tiest fur,
and such a duck of a tail! Poor little animal couldn't have been larger
than my fist. Wonder if its spirit will meet with that of the little
bird which flew heavenward with all that pink ribbon and my letter from
Mr. Halsey?

Saturday, March 14th.
5 o'clock, P.M.

They are coming! The Yankees are coming at last! For four or five hours
the sound of their cannon has assailed our ears. There!--that one shook
my bed! Oh, they are coming! God grant us the victory! They are now
within four miles of us, on the big road to Baton Rouge. On the road
from town to Clinton, we have been fighting since daylight at
Readbridge, and have been repulsed. Fifteen gunboats have passed
Vicksburg, they say. It will be an awful fight. No matter! With God's
help we'll conquer yet! Again!--the report comes nearer. Oh, they _are_
coming! Coming to defeat, I pray God.

Only we seven women remain in the house. The General left this morning,
to our unspeakable relief. They would hang him, we fear, if they should
find him here. Mass' Gene has gone to his company; we are left alone
here to meet them. If they _will_ burn the house, they will have to
burn me in it. For I cannot walk, and I know they shall not carry me.
I'm resigned. If I _should_ burn, I have friends and brothers enough to
avenge me. Create _such_ a consternation! Better than being thrown from
a buggy--only I'd not survive to hear of it!

Letter from Lilly to-day has distressed me beyond measure. Starvation
which threatened them seems actually at their door. With more money
than they could use in ordinary times, they can find nothing to
purchase. Not a scrap of meat in the house for a week. No pork, no
potatoes, fresh meat obtained _once_ as a favor, and poultry and flour
articles unheard of. Besides that, Tiche crippled, and Margret very
ill, while Liddy has run off to the Yankees. Heaven only knows what
will become of them. The other day we were getting ready to go to them
(Thursday) when the General disapproved of my running such a risk,
saying he'd call it a d---- piece of nonsense, if I asked what he
thought; so we remained. They will certainly starve soon enough without
our help; and yet--I feel we should all be together still. That last
superfluous word is the refrain of Gibbes's song that is ringing in my
ears, and that I am chanting in a kind of ecstasy of exciteme