By Louise Wigfall Wright
IN accumulating the unhappy and satisfied thoughts of the years of which I write, i'm actuated by way of causes - one, that i'm unsleeping that the times are passing, and that if performed in any respect, the chronicle had top be written ere the attention that has noticeable these items grows dim and the reminiscence defective; and the opposite, that i might fain dwell within the innovations of the kids who shall come after me, and feature their hearts, as they learn this checklist, beat in unison with mine. hence we could be associated jointly in those memories.
I bear in mind, in the summertime of 1858, sitting at the huge piazza in entrance of our domestic in Marshall, Texas, staring at the good comet that hung within the heavens. i will be able to see now the crêpe myrtle timber with their rose-colored blossoms, flanking the stairs; think back the nice and cozy, languorous air of the summer season evening, heavy with the smell of white jasmine, and honeysuckle; and listen to back the voices, lengthy stilled, as we talked jointly of the comet and its portent. As a toddler, I felt the impression of the time: nice occasions have been forming; the "irrepressible conflict," which culminated within the lousy fight of the sixties, was once simply turning into, to the brain of thinkers, a apprehensive likelihood; and after we checked out the blazing comet in that reasonable summer season sky, a sense of awe and secret enveloped us. evening after evening we watched it, and singular to assert, it's the basically certain effect left on my brain of the summer season of '58.
within the autumn my father was once elected the kingdom Senate and we made arrangements for our trip to Austin. there have been no railroads around the kingdom in these days, and the masses of miles needed to be traversed via inner most conveyance, or by way of level coach.
We made up our minds to make the day trip in our outdated- shaped relations carriage, drawn through a couple of stout horses and pushed by way of our negro coachman, Henry. My brother got here with us on horseback. We made the adventure in effortless levels - our bags, in fact, being despatched on via trainer. we'd force approximately thirty miles an afternoon - by no means extra; preventing in the course of the day for an hour or so, while the horses will be completely rested and fed, and we'd have our luncheon.
At evening, we continually stopped at a handy farmhouse, the site of which have been formerly realized, and whose vendors have been accustomed, in a rustic the place there have been no motels, to obtain occasional travelers.
What a pleasant trip it was once! the gorgeous, point, prairie roads, challenging, white and tender, over which we rolled, with little attempt at the horses' half - stretching in the back of and earlier than us that extensive expanse of prairie, now, in November, coated with tall, waving, yellow grass; yet in June wonderful with the beautiful blue plants of the buffalo clover - preventing, at times, to water the horses from the natural, limpid springs; the heavens blue as a sapphire and the sunlight shining!
i don't take into account any wet days within the ten within which we have been at the highway. The noon meal, taken by way of the banks of a few transparent, attractive flow, used to be a dinner party certainly - a regular picnic of the main spell binding kind.
I remember in simple terms adventures incidentally. One used to be our environment the prairie on fireplace through thoughtlessly throwing a lighted fit within the dry grass, which would have resulted very heavily had we no longer been close to a flow, and had now not the wind been blowing in the direction of it, and within the wrong way from that during which we have been going. because it occurred, it used to be a fascinating and novel sight, considered at a secure distance. And it led to a lot merriment, as we recalled our first fearful efforts to place out the prairie fireplace through futile little journeyings to and from the flow with cups of water.
Our different experience was once fording the Brazos River, a wide, swift-running, shallow move, so limpid that the stones at the backside have been in actual fact visible.
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Additional resources for A Southern Girl in '61 The War-Time Memories of a Confederate Senator's Daughter [1905.]
A Southern Girl in '61 The War-Time Memories of a Confederate Senator's Daughter [1905.] by Louise Wigfall Wright