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    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences
    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences
    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences
    Ebook74 pages1 hour

    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences

    By Elizabeth Lyle Saxson

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    About this ebook

    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences is the captivating story of Elizabeth Saxson's experiences during the Civil War.Heraklion Press has included a linked table of contents.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCharles River Editors
    Release dateMar 22, 2018
    ISBN9781629215013
    A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences

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      Book preview

      A Southern Womans War Time Reminiscences - Elizabeth Lyle Saxson

      barnyard.

      II. BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER.

             WHEN my husband’s business demanded his of 1860, I remained with my children, in presence in the South, during the summer the family of a famous New York physician whose sentiments were of the most anti-slavery character. Two young men, students, were domiciled beneath his roof. While our opinions were stoutly maintained, we never quarreled, and it seemed to be the policy of the household to laugh and grow fat. Mrs. B., the doctor’s wife, was a model cook and housekeeper, and we spent our time in every part of the house, from garret to kitchen, as freely and happily as possible.

             On one occasion dinner was to be given on the anniversary of the college, and our newly graduated young M. D. (now a prominent physician in Syracuse, N. Y.) urged me to give him a sentiment for a toast, it being before the days when individuals were appointed and subjects arranged for the guests. After exacting from him a solemn pledge to give the toast as I worded it, I gave the following—seeing that The ladies always had to be lugged in on such occasions, although barred out personally: Here’s to the ladies, God bless them! Their ignorance furnishes us our carriages to ride in and fills our pockets with money. Long may it last.

             On the morning after this dinner, as I went into the dining room, I heard the young doctor, who had entered just before me, laughing as only he could laugh.

             What is it? I cried. No laughing here unless I share it.

             We were laughing over the success of your toast, that Mr.———gave, said Dr. B.

             And he gave it, did he? cried I. How was it received?

             Applauded it to the echo, was his answer.

              And why applauded, doctor? Pray tell me.

              Because every man of them knew it was true, was his unflattering answer.

              I will not try to give anything of the argument that followed this, but it closed with a statement about like this from the old doctor:

             We have the power, the honor, the money. Women have not—and we intend to hold our own.

              I recall my many tongue battles in favor of woman, and the shame of her repression, especially her need for physicians of her own sex, and I really think the hardest and meanest things I ever had to hear were spoken on this question.

              I rarely failed during the fall and winter of 1860 to attend the public meetings so frequently held. It was then I listened to so many eloquent divines pounding and slapping the Bible, and proving with learned discussion and many quotations that slavery was a God-ordained institution, and should for that reason be preserved.

             Southern in every vein and fiber of being though I was, I gloried in the unflinching courage shown by Wendell Phillips and Henry Ward Beecher on this subject, for I saw slavery in its bearing upon my sex. I saw that it teemed with injustice and shame to all womankind, and I hated it.

             In November of 1860 I went up to West Point to visit some of the college students; my husband having a young relative there from South Carolina.

             I found the school in a ferment of unrest and discontent. The boys of the two sections were at daggers’ points in discussions, and those I was interested in were wild to return

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