As the moon has changed, Julia [the cook] has gone to making soap
again. She is a strong believer in the moon, and never undertakes to
boil her soap on the wane of the moon. "It won't thicken,
mist'ess--see if it does!" She says, too, we must commence gardening
this moon. I have felt a strong desire to-day that my captured boys
might come back. Oh, how thankful I should feel to see them once more
safe at home!

* * * * *

APRIL 29, 1865.

Boys plowing in old house field. We are needing rain. Everything looks
pleasant, but the state of our country is very gloomy. General Lee has
surrendered to the victorious Grant. Well, if it will only hasten the
conclusion of this war, I am satisfied. There has been something very
strange in the whole affair to me, and I can attribute it to nothing
but the hand of Providence working out some problem that has not yet
been revealed to us poor, erring mortals. At the beginning of the
struggle the minds of men, their wills, their self-control, seemed to
be all taken from them in a passionate antagonism to the coming-in
President, Abraham Lincoln.

Our leaders, to whom the people looked for wisdom, led us into this,
perhaps the greatest error of the age. "We will not have this man to
rule over us!" was their cry. For years it has been stirring in the
hearts of Southern politicians that the North was enriched and built
up by Southern labor and wealth. Men's pockets were always appealed to
and appealed to so constantly that an antagonism was excited which it
has been impossible to allay. They did not believe that the North
would fight. Said Robert Toombes: "I will drink every drop of blood
they will shed." Oh, blinded men! Rivers deep and strong have been
shed, and where are we now?--a ruined, subjugated people! What will be
our future? is the question which now rests heavily upon the hearts of
all.

This has been a month never to be forgotten. Two armies have
surrendered. The President of the United States has been assassinated,
Richmond evacuated, and Davis, President of the Confederacy, put to
grief, to flight. The old flag has been raised again upon Sumter and
an armistice accepted.

* * * * *

[May is full of stories of Confederate soldiers bitterly returning to
their homes, and of apprehension of the Yankee troops encamped in the
neighborhood.]