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We were now swiftly nearing the end of our siege life: the rations had nearly all been given out. For the last few days I had been sick; still I tried to overcome the languid feeling of utter prostration. My little one had swung in her hammock, reduced in strength, with a low fever flushing in her face. M—— was all anxiety, I could plainly see. A soldier brought up, one morning, a little jaybird, as a plaything for the child. After playing with it for a short time, she turned wearily away. “Miss Mary,” said the servant, “she’s hungry; let me make her some soup from the bird.” At first I refused: the poor little plaything should not die; then, as I thought of the child, I half consented. With the utmost haste, Cinth disappeared; and the next time she appeared, it was with a cup of soup, and a little plate, on which lay the white meat of the poor little bird.
My Cave Life in Vicksburg--by A Lady
Mary Ann Loughborough penned this little account under the then-traditional pen name of a woman. Published in 1864,
My Cave Life in Vicksburg--by A Lady
Mary Ann Loughborough penned this little account under the then-traditional pen name of a woman. Published in 1864,
