Second Letter from the Kisatchie Forest

Days spent living in Louisiana '1864'

Dearest Aunt Beth,

 

It seems like it’s been a month since my last letter to you, but in all reality it was just a few days ago that I gave preacher those last scribblings. So much has happened here in our parish. It seems like weeks since we’ve lived without the firing of cannons. At first, we sat bolt upright in bed at night. I guess we’ve become accustomed to the noise like so many other things.

 

 

When I wrote you last the armies were very near and we feared greatly for our physical well-being. We’ve heard monstrous tales of Bank’s march through Natchitoches. We should all say a quiet prayer for God’s wonderful mercies. Thus far we are spared.

 

 

Friday last, we woke early and started our day like any other. Wagons kept bringing in the sick and wounded from both sides. Our settlement became a refuge for both armies. The children kept asking to do their lessons. Fancy that! And I, ran forward and back all morning between the kitchen and the outdoor fire boiling water, cooking grits. I cannot say how many times I filled the table with food. Those men ate like they had seen nothing for weeks. They ate all the leftover raisin pie from the day before and I rushed to stir up some peach dumplings so they might have something a little sweet.

 

It seemed they much preferred bread and butter to any other thing we offered. I suppose if I had marched for miles in the mud I might not want anything too heavy, either. I poured tumbler after tumbler full of water. They drank the spring water as if it were the most refreshing beverage of their lives.

 

 

Misses Bruce and Myers ministered to the wounded. I heated pot after pot of water for their nursing needs. Sarah sat with one of the patients. We hated so to leave him alone. One fat young man asked if I had something for him to drink and I answered smartly, “not for those that don’t water their own horses.” And he knew what I meant—going off to leave Mrs. Simpson to tend to his mounts. He muttered something unfit for ladies ears but I suspect he got a good raking from his sergeant.

 

 

Mama was down at her place on the trail with the wash kettle full of hominy. When the union troops marched through they had no time to stop. Our boys were right on their heels. The commanding officer whispered a request to mama and off they went. One boy traded Anna out of her hard boiled egg. Rachel berated him for taking the baby’s food. He gave the child some coffee beans. Rachel fussed again, but Anna was delighted with the beans. She told the soldier she was going to give them to her mama to boil some coffee.

 

 

Our boys did stop, but not for long. They only took time to fill their canteens and eat a bite. They formed a line and marched past the table we had drug outdoors. They could only take what they could get as they filed by. We ladled hominy and chicken stew into dirty hands and hats and cups and plates, it would break your heart to see their poor condition.

 

 

We had no more than finished, when mama ordered all the tin pots of food into the wagon. We were to take them to the Yankees on the trail. We followed the wagon tracks until we found them. We had to walk way into the woods as Mr. Tucker didn’t want to take the wagons and mule back where they were. So off we marched with a boiler half full of chicken stew, and tin pots full of grits, hominy and leek soup. And we were welcomed. So much that we scraped the bottom of the tins for every morsel of nourishment we could give. The commander was visibly moved by our presence and offered his heartfelt praise to God for our kindness.

 

 

They’ve moved on for now. We are trying to settle down to life the way it was before the men came. The wounded are improving daily. The young soldiers should be on their way back to their companies soon. Our men have started planting some spring crops. We’re hoping for rain.

 

Give my best to Ann and Uncle John. Write soon.

 

 

All my love,

Emily

Reviews

[...]

. spectacularly written ... as a history major, i'm in awe ... you've done a brilliant job, dearest emily ... and the poetry in your words ... the compassion you highlight ... the humanity you validate ... are all made of gold ... this is stunning work ... i so wish the education system all over the world adopted creative means such as this ... it would make the world an infinitely more enlightened one ...

[Leslie Philibert]

What is really good about this is the way it is exactly, exactly the right style of the period,this is a very carefully written piece of prose, full of details only a native would know,a really genuine piece of writing. Great,

[Phibby Venable]

this is a beautiful write, Emily, i love the way you brought it
all to life

[The Analog Kid]

Nice how you told the story in a letter. Also, heart-warming how the food was given to opposition soldiers:)

[Dezaraye]

Again, Emily, brilliant. I love it!

[Gaiamethod]

I loved these! You wrote them so well. I love the way you describe the food they ate, it made it so real.
I was glad too that they held no judgement about who was right and who was wrong. Everyone was fed. That's the way it should be.
I hope you write more of these............

[Blue Sky]

This will take a while to forget, not that anyone can forget
the kindness that continuously poured from these people
to aid the wounded and the soldiers, I thought it was so
well followed in the words of Emily, you did a smashing good job
with yet this chapter, great piece to compliment your first!!

[Antony]

You are just a fantastic writer Emily, I am really amazed how I could feel this story and picture every scene so clearly, you did your homework on this one, let me know when you continue it, I enjoy stories about the Civil War and the south. Thank you for posting this.
Tony

[Tim]

After reading the first one I had to read the second one. Your writing is very good and i love the way you have captured the time period. It also has a good message to it. That being that they were willing to help out soldiers from both sides to ease their needs and suffering.

[The Tao of Bri]

Again, you do this so well! I think in today's age the art of letter writing is dead..with all the sounds bytes and emails...You draw this out so deftly...and make the everyday chores such as water gathering into a spiritual event...I love these. I hope you do more!