The first unabridged publication of the memoirs of Cornelia Jones Pond, a privileged child of a slaveholding family in Georgia, follws her life from her birth into the antebellum world of 1834, through the apocalyptic Civil War, and beyond. UP.

Fictionalized autobiographical account of the habits and manners of Southerners, set primarily in South Carolina.

Reprint of the original, first published in 1838.

Spanning her entire life, the fully annotated selections in this volume include well known recollections of the great Victorian novelist plus a large assortment not found in her biographies. Altogether they provide a fresh, vivid, and sometimes startling portrait of a controversial genius.

Recollections? Y'all want to talk about recollections? Why, I'm full to bustin' with recollections. I can recollect on the time my Great-Granddaddy was sold into slavery, bless his soul. Or the time my brother like to died in the Mighty Mississippi River. And child, the very day Martin Luther King died, I had three of my kinfolk right there, practically in throwin' distance of the Lorraine Motel. That's a powerful recollection there 'cause they saw it all The stories I could tell...and I do tell too 'cause everybody knows I can't hold water. No secret is safe with me. I mean, I try and try to keep stuff to myself but words just kinda fall out of my mouth sometimes... And another thing, I have a mind like a steel trap That, along with my loose lips are a pretty lethal combination. 'Least that's what people say about me. But I don't get mad as long as they say it to my face. To my credit, I did manage to go on a gossiping fast for a couple months. But, y'all, my head got so full I thought I was gonna have to get a CAT scan. Anyway, after I broke my fast I vowed to do better. Instead of talking so much, I started writing down my recollections. Mostly stuff about my monstrously big, happy family. Pretty soon, I had a whole volume of recollections to share. So, I decided to do what I do...tell it Right neighborly, don't you think? I'm gonna tell it all 'cause y'all know I can't hold water. And, if people don't like it, they can just lump it 'cause they shouldn't have told me in the first place. After all, they didn't just meet me yesterday

A collection of memories and philosophies from a true "Southern Lady," whose life has been filled with countless and almost unbelievable ups and downs. Share Bonnie's experiences and learn from them.

Provides first-person accounts in which Southern women describetheir experiences during the Civil War, discussing how the conflict, which claimed their men, forced them into the unfamiliar roles of farmers, workers barterers, spies, and even soldiers.

MY DEAR CHILDREN: - Being at leisure now, after many years of pleasant work in helping your Father to raise a large family of boys and girls, I sit down in this dear old room, with the faces of those I love smiling down upon me from the picture frames on the wall, and the perfume of sweet flowers coming through the lattice door, to recall some recollections of old times in Dixie. First stands out in bold relief the delightful plantation life at Woodlawn. This phase of society is a thing of the past, and I grieve that you will never know the tender tie that existed between mistress and servant. To the credit of the colored people be it said that during the Civil War, when on plantation after plantation the mansions were occupied only by wives and daughters, not a disloyal act or word ever occurred. One of the first things I remember was when a little girl of four, seated on a pillow in front of my father, a pale dark man, riding through the corn fields, watching the cotton and corn unfold, and grow beneath our warm Southern sun. Most of the plantations had names according to the owner. Our plantation, named Woodlawn, consisted of four thousand acres, and was beautifully situated between a river and creek. Our man Tony would row us for hours, winding up and down this beautiful stream and around an island covered with dense foliage, and on which there was plenty of