My Furlough.
Though my health up to this time had withstood the bad effects of exposure and exertion, the strain had become too great, and the constantly recurring agitation which had beenexcited each day on receiving the returned prisoners, had broken me down completely. A visit to the surgeon-general with a request for a month’s leave of absence, met with a ready acquiescence. The old gentleman was very urbane, even making one or two grim jokes, and handed me not only permission to leave, but the necessary transportation. Very necessary in this case, as traveling expenses were enormously high, and the government had seized for the whole month of October the railroads for military use, putting a complete stop to private travel.
It had been like tearing body and soul apart, when necessity compelled me to leave my hospital, from which I had never been separated but one day in nearly four years; and when all arrangements for departure had been completed, Miss G. urged, entreated and commanded to keep a sharp look-out upon the whiskey, and be alike impenetrable to feints, stratagems and entreaties, my heart began to sink. A visit to the wards did not tend to strengthen my wavering resolves. The first invalid to whom I communicated the news of myintended departure burst into a passion of tears, and improved my frame of mind by requesting me to kill him at once, for he would certainly die if left. Standing by his bedside, unsettled and irresolute, all the details of my daily life rose before me. The early and comforting visit to the sick after their feverish, restless night; when even if there were no good to be effected, they would feel the kindness, and every man’s head would be thrust out of the bed-clothes as by one impulse, and jealousy evinced when a longer pause by one bedside than another would arouse the feeling. Often has the ward-master recalled me when at, the distance of a quarter of a mile from his ward, at the request of a patient, and when going back to find out what was wanted, a hearty convalescent would explain that I had passed through and omitted to speak to him.
Off.
Farewells were exchanged at last, and the 6th October, 1864, found me at the Fredericksburg station,en routefor Georgia. A search at the last moment before stepping into the cars, discovered that my keys, together with my watch, had been left at the hospital, while,as an equivalent, there remained at the bottom of my basket half a salt mackerel (a rare luxury in the Confederacy), begged for a sick man who fancied it, a day before, and forgotten in the hurry of packing. I was compelled to defer my start until the 7th.
There are some schoolday recollections hanging around the softening by Hannibal of a rugged journey by the plentiful application of vinegar; but what acid could soften the rigors of that trip to Georgia? They can hardly be recounted in any degree of limited space. With the aid of two gentlemen, and indeed every disengaged man on the road, a safe termination was effected after many days, and a delicious holiday passed in idleness andConfederateluxury, free from the wear and tear of constantly excited feelings. Then came the stern reflection that I had no right to exceed the furlough of thirty days accorded by Dr. Moore. A search was immediately made for an escort, which having failed, general advice was unanimously given to “go alone,” on the grounds that women had become entirely independent at this time, and “no man knowing the object of yourjourney could fail to give you all the assistance you would need.”
A Hard Road to Travel.
Fired with this Quixotic sentiment, an early start was made. Finding almost immediately that I had not received checks for my trunks, I ventured, while the afflatus lasted, to touch a man who sat in front of me on the arm, and request him to call the conductor. “I am sorry to say that I am not acquainted with him,” was the answer; and down I went to zero, never rising again till my journey was accomplished.
Perhaps the details of my trials may give my readers some idea of the state of the country at that time. At West Point, which took an hour and a half’s travel to reach from Legrange, we had to sleep all night, there being no connection for twelve hours. There were no bed-rooms, and no candles to be had, and the female travelers sat in the little bar of the tavern (the leading hotel being closed) brightened by a pine knot, with their feet on the sanded floor, and ate what they had provided themselves with from their baskets.
Services not Required.
Another two hours’ travel on to Opelika the next day, and another detention for half-a-dozenhours. At Columbus, a rumor that the cars had been seized for government transportation made me anxious concerning the nature of my ticket, which I found to my dismay was not suited to meet the emergency through some inadvertence; so long before starting-time I was waiting at the depot seated on my trunk, half amused and half mortified at the resemblance thus offered to an emigrant Irish servant woman. The place was crowded with invalided soldiers, for the government was moving the hospitals to the lower part of the State, and idle spectators seeing my evident alarm offered all kinds of irrational advice. A suggestion was sensibly made by some one that by seeking one of the most helpless of the wounded and requesting him to allow me to pass as his nurse my object might be effected; but every man to whom I opened my proposals seemed alarmed at and opposed to this idea. Towards the last the confusion became distracting—everybody calling for the conductor, who possessing no power, the cars being under military control, first denied his identity and then hid himself.
Friend to the “Faymales.”
Help came at the last moment in the form ofa red-faced, half-tipsy Irish porter who had been cheering me on with winks of encouragement at my frantic efforts for some time. “Lit me put yer trunks on,” he said, and “thin go to Col. Frankland at the rare of the cars—sure he’s the man to help the faymales.”
My forlorn hope, Col. Frankland, was standing on the platform at the extreme rear of the cars, surrounded by a semi-circle below, about twenty-five feet deep, all pressing on to get to seats already too full. He was gesticulating and shouting like a madman. The lame, the halt, and the blind stood around. Crutches, splints, and huge sticks represented a small wood. Green blinds over eyes, raw faces peeled from erysipelas, and still showing variegated hues of iodine, gave picturesqueness to the scene. Had he borne Cæsar and his fortunes he could not have been more interested. For two hours he had been stemming this living tide.
A Bold Attempt.
I had met and fraternized with a lady and gentleman, old acquaintances, encountered at the depot, who appeared as anxious to get Northward as myself; so telling her not to move until I had either achieved my object orfailed, and if I made her a sign to join me, I took my position at the fag end of the crowd below the colonel, and undeterred by distance and uproar I essayed a faint call for notice. The sound died away in my throat, but my Irish friend (I am sure he took me for one of his cousins from the “ould counthrie”), was by my side in an instant and repeated the call. A hundred voices took up the refrain, “A lady wants to speak to the colonel,” and universal curiosity regarding theprivatenature of my business being exhibited by a profound silence I raised my voice as Mause Headrigg said, “like a pelican in the wilderness:”
“Col. Frankland, I must get forward on this train to-night. Government business requires me to be in Richmond by the 1st November.”
“Can’t do it, Madam. Would like to oblige you, but can’t go against my orders. The cars are for the use of sick and wounded soldiers alone.”
None but the fair deserve the brave.
“But Col. Frankland, hundreds of invalids are waiting for their breakfast, dinner and supper in Richmond. I am the matron of —— hospital.”
“Can’t help it, Madam! If you men there don’t keep away from this platform and leave a passage way, I’ll put the front rank under arrest!”
“Oh! Col. Frankland, cannot I stand on the platform, if I am not allowed to use the cars?”
“No, Madam, it would be dangerous. Sorry to refuse.”
“Let me go in the freight train.”
“There is no freight train.”
“Well, the box cars? I take very little room.”
“They are crowded, Madam, crowded. Keep off, men, keep off there!”
The steam blew and whistled fearfully and the bell clanged an uproar of sound. A passing car came rushing by and my courage was oozing fast. “Try him agin!” said my Irish friend, who unable to get near me, shouted his secret.
Importance of Hair-Pins.
“Oh! Col. Frankland, excuse my pertinacity, but whatcanI do? Let me go on in the mail car! I will not even open my eyes to look at the outside of the letters.”
“Against the law. Cannot be done. How can I infringe upon my orders? Will no one keep those confounded men off?”
“I will, Col. Frankland, if you will let me get up by your side. I will keep every single man away. Now men, keep off, I beg of you, for I must get to Richmond, and moreover, I wear very long hair-pins.”
“Thank you, Madam, thank you. Now men, you hear what this lady says, and I know she will be as good as her word.” A hundred hands helped me up. I looked for my friend the red-nosed Irishman, but he was gone. Another moment and my friend stood by my side, assisted by the Irishman, who tipped me a comprehensive wink which set my mind at rest as regarded the safety of my trunk.
“This is not fair,” said the Colonel. “You promised that no one should get on.”
“Oh, no, I promised that not asingle manshould do so. This is a woman. Will you let her husband join her? He is not asingleman, for he has a wife and nine children!”
The result may be imagined. Our party, very much relieved, were soon inside, where wefound four comfortable seats reserved for Gen. Beauregard and staff, which were unoccupied from those gentlemen being detained at Macon.
Another Attempt.
At that city, where we were compelled to pass the night, the same state of things existed, and with depressed spirits I drove to the cars to see if any arrangement could be effected by which I could pursue my journey. The road would not be opened to the traveling public for a month, so an effort had to be made. An appeal to the authorities resulted as I expected, in defeat, so I again tried my manœuver of trying to interest subordinates.
Failing, however, and baffled at every turn, while sitting again upon my trunk, the mail agent, standing in the doorway of his car, caught my eye. Improving the opportunity, I commenced a conversation, ending in an insinuating appeal to be taken into the mail box. Success and installation in his little square domicil followed, and my friend, passing out without any explanation, locked the door on the outside. There were no windows and no light whatever; the hour six in the evening.
Frightened at Last.
Seated in loneliness and darkness till the townclock struck eight, every fear that could arise in the brain of a silly woman assailed me. Did the train I was in go to Augusta, and if not, would I be left where I was all night? Was the man who locked me up the mail agent? If he came back and robbed and murdered me, would any one ever miss me? Having had nothing to eat but a couple of biscuits in twenty-four hours, and my brain being, in consequence, proportionately light, imagination seized the reins from common sense, which fled in the presence of utter darkness and loneliness.
At last the key turned in the lock, and the light of a lantern dispelled some of my terrors. The cars started and the agent commenced sorting his letters, first bolting us in securely. A couple of hours passed and my mind was gradually losing its tone of unpleasant doubt as to the wisdom of my proceedings, when my busy companion knocked off work and essayed to play the agreeable. He was communicative in the extreme, giving me his biography, which proved him to be a Connecticut man, and very much dissatisfied with the Confederacy, particularlywith the state of the money market. So long as he kept to his personal recollections all was right, but he soon claimed a return of confidence, and grew hourly more patronizing and conversational. His tone and manner, the loneliness of the position, and the impossibility of any fortunate interruption occurring becoming unbearable at last, there is no knowing what I might have ventured to do, in the way of breaking out, if the cars had not fortunately run off the track.
All’s well that ends well.
On we bumped, happily on level ground, for two minutes or more; the engineer entirely unconscious of the fact and no way of communicating with him, as the soldiers were lying over the rope on the top of the cars, so that pulling was in vain. At last a pause, and then a crowd, and then a familiar name was called, most welcome to my ears. I repeated it aloud until the owner was by my side, and the rest of the night was spent in asking questions and receiving information. At daylight he left me to rejoin his command, while we continued on to Augusta.
As usual, when we arrived there no vehicle of any kind met us at the depot, but being theonly woman in the cars, the mail driver offered me a seat upon the mail-bags, and as it was raining I accepted, and in this august style reached the hotel by breakfast time. All military suspension ceased here, but there was detention for two hours, and this was enlivened by an amusing episode at the depot.
Up-country Georgia Eloquence.
Directly in front of me sat an old Georgia up-country woman, placidly regarding the box cars full of men on the parallel rails, waiting like ourselves to start. She knitted and gazed, and at last inquired “who was them ar soldiers, and whar was they a-going to?” The information that they were Yankee prisoners startled her considerably. The knitting ceased abruptly (all the old women in the Southern States knitted socks for the soldiers while traveling), and the Cracker bonnet of dark brown homespun was thrown back violently, for her whole nervous system seemed to have received a galvanic shock. Then she caught her breath with a long gasp, lifted on high her thin, trembling hand, accompanied by the trembling voice, and made them a speech:
“Ain’t you ashamed of you-uns,” shepiped, “a-coming down here a-spiling our country, and a-robbing our hen-roosts? What did we ever do to you-uns that you should come a-killing our brothers and sons? Ain’t you ashamed of you-uns? What for do you want us to live with you-uns, you poor white trash? I ain’t got a single nigger that would be so mean as to force himself where he warn’t wanted, and what do we-uns want with you? Ain’t you——” but here came a roar of laughter from both cars, and shaking with excitement the old lady pulled down her spectacles, which in the excitement she had pushed up on her forehead, and tried in vain to resume her labors with uncertain fingers.
General Desolation.
From here to Richmond there occurred the usual detentions and trials of railroad travel under the existing circumstances. The windows of the cars were broken out in many places. Sometimes no fire for want of stoves, and the nights damp and chilly. All in utter darkness, for the lamps were gone, and could they have been replaced, there would have been no oil.
A Woman has an Opinion.
We crawled along, stopping every houralmost, to tinker up some part of the car or the road, getting out at times when the conductor announced that the travelers must walk “a spell or two,” meaning from one to five miles. Crowds of women were getting in and out all the way, the male passengers grumbling aloud that “women had better stay at home, they had no business to be running around in such times.” This was said so often that it became very unpleasant, till the tables were turned early one morning at Gainsborough, when a large-sized female made her way along the center of the car, looking from right to left in the vain search for a seat. None being vacant, she stopped short, and addressed the astonished male passengers with more vigor than elegance: “What for pity sake do you men mean by running all around the country for, instead of staying in the field, as you ought to do? You keep filling up the cars so that a woman can’t attend to her business. Your place should be opposite the enemy.” This diversion on our behalf was received silently, but many seats were soon vacated by their occupants on the plea of “taking a little smoke.”
Beaten at Last.
At last, the 1st of November found me weary, hungry, cold and exhausted by travel at the Richmond depot, four hours after schedule time; with that most terrible scourge, a bad, nervous headache racking me all over. The crowd around was immense, so that by the time it opened and dispersed sufficiently to let me make my way through, every vehicle had left, if there had ever been any there before. As usual, my telegram had not been received, so there was no one to meet me, and pain rendering me indifferent to appearances I quietly spread my shawl upon a bench and myself upon it. For how long I cannot say, but I was roused by a voice asking what I wanted, and what was the matter? “Any kind of a vehicle to take me home,” was the answer. After a few moments’ delay my new friend returned with the information that there was only a market cart, which if I was willing to ride in, was for hire. If it had been a hearse it would have been hailed with welcome. My two trunks were put on, and I was deposited on them. The hour, eleven at night.
One of our Future Presidents.
I looked first at the horse. He had ashadowy gray skin stretched over his prominent bones, and in the dim, misty light, seemed a mere phantom. The driver next came under observation. A little dried-up, gray black, old darkey, with a brown rag tied around his head, but like all his species he was kindly disposed and respectful. Directions were given him to drive to a friend’s house. He said that his horse was too tired, but if I were willing, he had another “at his place,” where he would drive me and change.
Quite willing, or rather too weary to assert any authority, so on we rumbled and rattled almost twice the distance I was first bound, changed one skeleton for another, and started again for my friend’s house. At last the blessed haven was reached, but the sight of a new face to my summons at the door made my heart sink. She had “moved yesterday.”
“Drive to Miss G.’s house,” was my next direction, intending to throw myself upon her hospitality and charity for the night, for we were out of the way of all hotels.
The same result on application. Had all Richmond moved? The fresh air, and thenecessity for exertion in this novel position had routed my headache, and now gave me courage to make a proposition I hadn’t dared to make before.
Compromises.
“Could not you drive me to the hospital on the hill?” was my demand made in most ingratiating tones.
The old man untied the rag from off his head, and smoothed it on his knee by way of ironing out the creases and assisting reflection; replaced it, taking up the reins again before he answered, for we were now at a stand-still at the Broad street hill.
“Missis,” said he solemnly, “de way it is long, and de bridges dey is rotten; but ef you is not afeared to dribe ober dem by you-self, and let me git out, and pay me ten dollars, de ole hoss might be consarned to go up dis yere hill.”
The bargain was struck, and the hospital reached after midnight. The key of my apartments sent for, when the duplicate hair that at last broke the camel’s back was laid upon mine.
“Miss G. had taken it with her.”
“Bring a carpenter,” I cried desperately;“and tell him to get a sledge-hammer and knock down, or in, anything that will let me get into the place. Imusthave rest.”
The door was broken open; a fire was kindled; a delicious piece of cold hard corn-bread found and devoured, and when the warm covering of the first bed I had slept in for ten days was drawn around me, all the troubles of a hard world melted away, and the only real happiness on earth, entire exemption from mental and bodily pain, took possession of me.