Concealing Confederate Clothing—Valuables Carried to Atlanta—Toby Taken Ill.
On the way to the post-office early one morning in the sultry month of July, 1864, to mail a number of letters which I deemed too important to be entrusted to other hands, I was accosted as follows by “Uncle Mack,” the good negro blacksmith, whose shop was situated immediately upon the route:
“Did you know, Miss Mary, that the Yankees have crossed the river, and are now this side of the Chattahoochee.”
“Why, no!” I said, and added with as much calmness as I could affect, “I do not know why I should be surprised—there is nothing to prevent them from coming into Decatur.”
With an imprecation more expressive than elegant, that evil should overtake them before getting here, he resumed hammering at the anvil, and I my walk to the post-office. Nor was Uncle Mack the only one who volunteered the information that “The Yankees are coming—they are this side the river.”
The time had come to devise means and methods of concealing the winter clothing and other accoutrements entrusted to my care by our dear soldiers. In order to save them, what should I do with them?—was a question which I found myself unable toanswer. An attempt to retain and defend them would be futile indeed. And I have no right to jeopardize my mother’s home by a rash effort to accomplish an impossibility. But what shall I do with these precious things, is the question. A happy thought struck me, and I pursued it only to find it delusive. The near approach of Sherman’s army developed the astounding fact that Dr. A. Holmes, of Decatur, a Baptist minister of some prominence, claimed to be a Union man, in full sympathy with any means that would soonest quell the rebellion. This I had not heard, and in my dilemma I went to him to impart my plans and ask advice. He was morose and reticent, and I hesitated; but, driven by desperation, I finally said: “Dr. Holmes, as a minister of the gospel, are you not safe? All civilized nations respect clerical robes, do they not?”
“I think so,” he said, and continued by saying, “I have other claims upon the Federal army which will secure me from molestation.”
A look of surprise and inquiry being my only answer, he said, “Amid the secession craze, I have never given up my allegiance to the United States.”
“Why, Dr. Holmes!” I said, in unfeigned surprise.
“I repeat most emphatically that I have remained unshaken in my allegiance to the United States. I have no respect for a little contemptible Southern Confederacy, whose flag will never be recognized on land or on sea.”
This was a sad revelation to me. On more than one occasion I had heard Dr. Holmes pray fervently for the success of the Southern cause, and to hearsuch changed utterances from him now, pained me exceedingly. Heartsore and discouraged, I turned from him, and was leaving without the usual ceremony, when he said:
“What can I do for you?”
“I came, sir, to ask a great favor of you, but after hearing you express yourself as you have, I deem it useless to make known my wishes. Good morning.”
This interview with Dr. Holmes was very brief; it did not consume as much time as it has done to tell it.
I did not walk in those days, but ran, and it required only a few moments to transfer the scene of action from Dr. Holmes’ to my mother’s residence. A hurried, whispered conversation acquainted her with the situation; and at my request, and upon a plausible pretense, she took Toby to the depot where she remained until I sent for her. My confidence in Toby had not in the least diminished, but, being a boy, I feared that he might have his price, or be intimidated by threats into the betrayal of our secret; hence the management as above related to get him off the place while I consummated a plan, which, if successful, would be a great achievement, but, if a failure, would be fraught with disaster. In those days “the depot” was a place of popular resort—it was the emporium of news; and either from the agent, or from the Confederate scouts that were ever and anon dashing through Decatur with cheerful messages and words of hope, the anxious mothers and sisters of the soldiers often wended their way there in hope of hearing something from their loved ones. Therefore no suspicion was aroused by this going to the depot.
Watching the receding form of my mother until she had passed out of the gate, and Toby had closed it after her, I then went to the rear door and motioned to Telitha, who chanced to be in the right place, to come into the house. After seeing that every outside door was thoroughly secure, I took her into the dining room where the boxes were which contained the winter clothing, blankets, etc., already mentioned as having been sent for storage by our soldier friends at Dalton, and told her in pantomime that the Yankees were coming, and if they saw these thing’s they would kill us and burn the house. She fully understood and repeated the pantomime illustrative of possible—yea, probable—coming events, with pathetic effect. I showed her that I wanted a hammer and chisel with which to take off the lids of the boxes, and she brought them. The lids removed, each article was carefully lifted from its repository and placed on chairs. This important step being taken towards the concealment of the goods, I raised the sash and opened the shutters of the window nearest the cellar, which was unlocked and open, and Telitha, climbing out the window, received the boxes as I handed them to her, and carried them into the cellar. Old and soiled as the boxes were, they were not in a condition to create suspicion of recent use, so from that source we had nothing to fear. Telitha again in the house, shutters closed, and sash down, preparation was resumed for the enactment of a feat dangerous and rash, the thought of which, even at this remote period, almost produces a tremor. The wardrobe mentioned in a former sketch as an incongruity in a dining room, was emptied of itscontents, and inch by inch placed as near the center of the room as possible; then a large table was placed beside it, and a chair upon that; and then with the help of another chair, which served as a step, I got upon the table and then upon the chair that was upon the table. As I went up, Telitha followed; standing upon the table she grasped the wardrobe with her strong hands and held it securely. I ascended from the chair to the top of it, stood up and steadied myself, and waited, immovable as a statue, until she got down and brought the chisel and hammer and placed them at my feet, and resumed her hold upon the wardrobe. I stooped and picked up the utensils with which I had to work, and straightened and steadied myself again. The chisel touched the plastered ceiling and the hammering began. Very slow work it was at first, as the licks had to be upward instead of downward, and the plastering was very thick. Finally the chisel went through and was withdrawn and moved to another place, and by repeated efforts I secured an aperture large enough to insert my fingers, and a few well-directed licks round and about so cracked and weakened the plastering that I was enabled to pull off some large pieces. A new difficulty presented itself. The laths were long, much longer than those of the present day, and I not only had to make a large opening in the ceiling, but to take off the plastering without breaking the laths. More than once the wardrobe had to be moved that I might pull off the plastering, and then with the greatest care prize off the laths. At length the feat was accomplished, and I laid the lids of the boxes, which had been reserved for thispurpose, across the joists, and made a floor upon which to lay the goods more than once specified in these sketches. When the last article had been laid on this improvised shelf, I gazed upon them in silent anguish and wept. Telitha caught the melancholy inspiration and also wept. Each lath was restored to its place and the perilous work was completed, and how I thanked the Lord for the steady nerve and level head that enabled me to do this service for those who were fighting the battles of my country.
But the debris must be removed. While the doors were yet closed and fastened, we pounded and broke the plastering into very small pieces and filled every vessel and basket in the house. I then went out and walked very leisurely over the yard and lot, and lingered over every lowly flower that sweetened the atmosphere by its fragrance, and when I was fully persuaded that no spy was lurking nigh I re-entered the house and locked the door. Picking up the largest vessel, and motioning Telitha to follow suit, I led the way through a back door to a huge old ash hopper, and emptied the pulverized plastering into it. In this way we soon had every trace of it removed from the floor. The dust that had settled upon everything was not so easily removed, but the frequent use of dusting brushes and flannel cloths disposed of the most of it.
I now wrote a note to my mother, inviting her to come home, and to bring Toby with her. We kept the doors of the dining room closed, as had been our wont for some time, and if Toby ever discovered the change, he never betrayed the knowledge of it byword or look. After a light breakfast, and the excitement of the day, I felt that we ought to have a good, luscious dinner, and, with the help at my command, went to work preparing it, and, as was my custom of late, I did not forget to provide for others who might come in. More than once during the day Confederate scouts had galloped in and spoken a few words of encouragement; and after taking a drink of water from the old oaken bucket, had galloped out again, so I hoped they would come back when the biscuit and tea-cakes were done, that I might fill their pockets.
After the last meal of the day had been eaten, I held another whispered consultation with my mother, and in pursuance of the course agreed upon I emptied several trunks, and with her help filled one with quilts and blankets, and other bedding; another with china and cut glass, well packed; and another with important papers, treasured relics, etc., and locked and strapped them ready for shipment next morning.
A night of unbroken rest and sleep prepared me for another day of surprises and toil, and before dawn I was up, dressed, waiting for daylight enough to justify me in the effort to see Mr. Ezekiel Mason, and beg him to hire me his team and driver to carry the trunks to the depot. After my ready compliance with his terms, he agreed to send them as soon as possible. The delay caused me to go on a freight train to Atlanta, but I congratulated myself upon that privilege, as the trunks and Toby went on the same train. There was unusual commotion and activityabout the depot in Atlanta, and a superficial observer would have been impressed with the business-like appearance of the little city at that important locality. Men, women, and children moved about as if they meant business. Trains came in rapidly, and received their complement of freight, either animate or inanimate, and screamed themselves hoarse and departed, giving place to others that went through with the same routine. Drays and every manner of vehicles blocked the streets, and endangered life, limb, and property of all who could not vie with them in push, vim, and dare-deviltry. In vain did I appeal to scores of draymen, white and black, to carry my trunks to the home of Mr. McArthur, on Pryor street—money was offered with liberality, but to no avail. Despairing of aid, I bade Toby follow me, and went to Mr. McArthur’s. He and his good wife were willing to receive the trunks and give them storage room, but could extend no aid in bringing them there. At length, as a last resort, it was decided that Toby should take their wheelbarrow and bring one trunk at a time. I returned with him to the depot and had the most valuable trunk placed upon the wheelbarrow, and, with my occasional aid, Toby got it to its destination. A second trip was made in like manner, and the third was not a failure, although I saw that Toby was very tired. Thanking my good friends for the favor they were extending, I hurried back to the depot, myself and Toby, to take the first train to Decatur. Imagine our consternation on learning that the Yankees had dashed in and torn up the Georgia Railroad track from Atlanta to Decatur, and were pursuing their destructivework towards Augusta. Neither for love nor money could a seat in any kind of vehicle going in that direction be obtained, nor were I and my attendant the only ones thus cut off from home; and I soon discovered that a spirit of independence pervaded the crowd. Many were the proud possessors of elegant spans of “little white ponies” which they did not deem too good to propel them homeward. Seeking to infuse a little more life and animation into Toby, I said:
“Well, my boy, what do you think of bringing out your little black ponies and running a race with my white ones to Decatur? Do you think you can beat in the race?”
“I don’t know’m,” he said, without his usual smile, when I essayed a little fun with him, and I evidently heard him sigh. But knowing there was no alternative, I started in a brisk walk towards Decatur, and said to him, “Come on, or I’ll get home before you do.” He rallied and kept very close to me, and we made pretty good time. The gloaming was upon us, the period of all others auspicious to thought, and to thought I abandoned myself. The strife between the sections of a once glorious country was a prolific theme, and I dwelt upon it in all of its ramifications, and failed to find cause for blame in my peculiar people; and my step became prouder, and my willingness to endure all things for their sakes and mine was more confirmed. In the midst of these inspiring reflections, Toby, who had somewhat lagged behind, came running up to me and said:
“Oh! Miss Mary, just look at the soldiers. And they are ours, too!”
To my dying day I shall never forget the scene to which he called my attention. In the weird stillness it appeared as if the Lord had raised up of the stones a mighty host to fight our battles. Not a sound was heard, nor a word spoken, as those in the van passed opposite me, on and on, and on, in the direction of Decatur, in what seemed to me an interminable line of soldiery. Toby and I kept the track of the destroyed railroad, and were somewhere between General Gartrell’s residence and Mr. Pitts’, the midway station between Atlanta and Decatur, when the first of these soldiers passed us, and we were at Kirkwood when that spectre-like band had fully gone. Once the moon revealed me so plainly that a cheer, somewhat repressed, but nevertheless hearty, resounded through the woods, and I asked:
“Whose command?”
“Wheeler’s Cavalry,” was the simultaneous response of many who heard my inquiry.
“Don’t you know me? I am the one you gave the best breakfast I ever ate, that morning we dashed into Decatur before sun-up.”
“And I’m the one too.”
“O, don’t mention it,” I said. “You are giving your lives for me, and the little I can do for you is nothing in comparison. May God be with you and shield you from harm until this cruel war is over.”
I missed Toby, and looking back, saw him sitting down. I hurried to him, saying, “What is it, my boy?”
“O, Miss Mary, I am so sick. I can’t go any further. You can go on home, and let me stay here—when I feel better I’ll go too.”
“No, my boy, I’ll not leave you.” And sitting by him I told him to rest his head upon my lap, and maybe after awhile he would feel better, and then we would go on. In the course of a half hour he vomited copiously, and soon after he told me he felt better, and would try to go on. More than once his steps were unsteady and he looked dazed; but under my patient guidance and encouraging words he kept up and we pursued our lonely walk until we reached Decatur.
As soon as we entered the town, we perceived that we had overtaken Wheeler’s Cavalry. They were lying on the ground, asleep, all over the place; and in most instances their horses were lying by them, sleeping too. And I noticed that the soldiers, even though asleep, never released their hold upon the bridles. At home I found my mother almost frantic. She knew nothing of the causes detaining me, and supposed that some disaster had befallen me individually. A good supper, including a strong cup of tea prepared by her hands, awaited us, and I attested my appreciation of it by eating heartily. Toby drank a cup of tea only, and said he “was very tired and hurt all over.”
The advance guard of the Yankee army—I am ordered out—A noble Federal.
The day clear, bright and beautiful, in July, 1864, and though a midsummer’s sun cast its vertical rays upon the richly-carpeted earth, refreshing showers tempered the heat and preserved in freshness and beauty the vernal robes of May and kept the atmosphere pure and delightful. Blossoms of every hue and fragrance decked the landscape, and Ceres and Pomona had been as lavish with their grains and fruits as Flora had been with flowers.
And I, assisted by Toby and Telitha, had gathered from the best of these rich offerings, and prepared a feast for Wheeler’s Cavalry. By the way, strive against it as I would, I was more than once disturbed by the mental inquiry: “What has become of Wheeler’s Cavalry? I saw it enter Decatur last night, and now there is not a soldier to be seen. It is true a large number of scouts came in this morning, and spoke comforting words to my mother, and reconnoitered around town fearlessly, but what has become of them?” Hope whispered: “Some strategic movement that will culminate in the capture of the entire Yankee army, no doubt is engaging its attention.” Yielding to these delusive reflections, and the seductiveinfluence of earth, air and sky, I became quite exhilarated and hummed little snatches of the songs I used to sing in the happy days of childhood, before a hope had been disappointed or a shadow cast over my pathway.
These scenes and these songs were not in keeping with the impending disasters even then at our portals. Crapen draperies and funeral dirges would have been far more in keeping with the developments of the day.
Distant roar of cannon and sharp report of musketry spoke in language unmistakable the approach of the enemy, and the rapidity of that approach was becoming fearfully alarming. Decatur offered many advantages as headquarters to an invading, devastating foe, “and three hundred thousand men” under the guidance of a merciless foe ought to have entered it long before they did—and would have done so if their bravery had been commensurate with their vandalism.
“Yank! Yank!” exclaimed our deaf negro girl, Telitha, as she stroked her face as if stroking beard, and ran to get a blue garment to indicate the color of their apparel, and this was our first intimation of their appearance in Decatur. If all the evil spirits had been loosed from Hades, and Satan himself had been turned loose upon us, a more terrific, revolting scene could not have been enacted.
Advance guards, composed of every species of criminals ever incarcerated in the prisons of the Northern States of America, swooped down upon us, and every species of deviltry followed in their footsteps. My poor mother, frightened and trembling,and myself, having locked the doors of the house, took our stand with the servants in the yard, and witnessed the grandentreof the menagerie. One of the beasts got down upon his all-fours and pawed up the dust and bellowed like an infuriated bull. And another asked me if I did not expect to see them with hoofs and horns. I told him, “No, I had expected to see some gentlemen among them, and was sorry I should be disappointed.”
My entire exemption from fear on that occasion must have been our safeguard, as no personal violence was attempted. He who personated a bull must have been the king’s fool, and was acting in collusion with the house pillagers sent in advance of the main army to do their dirty work, and to reduce the people to destitution and dependence. While he thought he was entertaining us with his quadrupedal didos, a horde of thieves were rummaging the house, and everything of value they could get their hands upon they stole—locks and bolts having proved ineffectual barriers to this nefarious work. By this time the outside marauders had killed every chicken and other fowl upon the place, except one setting-hen. A fine cow, and two calves, and twelve hogs shared a similar fate.
Several hours had passed since the coming of the first installment of the G. A. R., and a few scattering officers were perambulating the streets, and an occasional cavalryman reconnoitering. Having surveyed the situation, and discovered that only women and children and a few faithful negroes occupied the town, the main army came in like an avalanche.Yea, if an avalanche and a simoon had blended their fury and expended it upon that defenceless locality, a greater change could scarcely have been wrought.
The morning’s sun had shone upon a scene of luxuriant beauty, and heightened its midsummer loveliness, but the same sun, only a few hours later, witnessed a complete transformation, and blight and desolation reigned supreme. My mother and myself, afraid to go in the house, still maintained our outdoor position, and our two faithful servants clung very close to us, notwithstanding repeated efforts to induce them to leave. Our group had received addition. Emmeline, a negro girl whom we had hired out in Decatur, had been discharged, and had now come home. She was not so faithful as her kith and kin, and was soon on familiar terms with the bummers. Toby complained of being very tired, and when we all came to think about it, we discovered that we, too, were tired, and without being asked took seats upon the capacious lap of mother earth. As we were not overly particular about the position we assumed, we must have presented quite an aboriginal appearance. But what mattered it—we were only rebels. Notwithstanding the insignia of the conqueror was displayed on every hand, we felt to a certain degree more protected by the presence of commissioned officers, and ventured to go into the house. I will not attempt a description of the change that had taken place since we had locked the door, and, for better protection, had taken our stand in the yard.
Garrard’s Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of several acres, for headquarters, and soon whatappeared to us to be an immense army train of wagons commenced rolling into it. In less than two hours our barn was demolished and converted into tents, which were occupied by privates and non-commissioned officers, and to the balusters of our portico and other portions of the house were tied a number of large ropes, which, the other ends being secured to trees and shrubbery, answered as a railing to which at short intervals apart a number of smaller ropes were tied, and to these were attached horses and mules, which were eating corn and oats out of troughs improvised for the occasion out of bureau, washstand, and wardrobe drawers.
Men in groups were playing cards on tables of every size and shape; and whisky and profanity held high carnival. Thus surrounded we could but be apprehensive of danger; and, to assure ourselves of as much safety as possible, we barricaded the doors and windows, and arranged to sit up all night, that is, my mother and myself.
Toby complained of being very tired, and “hurting all over,” as he expressed it. We assisted him in making the very best pallet that could be made of the material at our command, and he lay down completely prostrated. Telitha was wide awake, and whenever she could secure a listener chattered like a magpie in unintelligible language, accompanied by unmistakable gestures—gestures which an accomplished elocutionist might adopt with effect—and the burden of her heart was for Emmeline. Emmeline having repudiated our protection, had sought shelter, the Lord only knows where. Alas, poor girl!
As we sat on a lounge, every chair having been taken to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps entering the piazza, and in a moment, loud rapping, which meant business. Going to the window nearest the door, I removed the fastenings, raised the sash, and opened the blinds. Perceiving by the light of a brilliant moon that at least a half-dozen men in uniforms were on the piazza, I asked:
“Who is there?”
“Gentlemen,” was the laconic reply.
“If so, you will not persist in your effort to come into the house. There is only a widow and one of her daughters, and two faithful servants in it,” I said.
“We have orders from headquarters to interview Miss Gay. Is she the daughter of whom you speak?”
“She is, and I am she.”
“Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing you, without intervening barriers. Our orders are imperative,” said he who seemed to be the spokesman of the delegation.
“Then wait a moment,” I amiably responded. Going to my mother I repeated in substance the above colloquy, and asked her if she would go with me out of one of the back doors and around the house into the front yard. Although greatly agitated and trembling, she readily assented, and we noiselessly went out. In a few moments we announced our presence, and our visitors descended the steps and joined us. And those men, occupying a belligerent attitude towards ourselves and all that was dear to us, stood face to face and in silence contemplated each other. When the silence was broken the aforesaid officerintroduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of General Schofield’s staff. He also introduced the accompanying officers each by name and title. This ceremony over, Major Campbell said:
“Miss Gay, our mission is a painful one, and yet we will have to carry it out unless you satisfactorily explain acts reported to us.”
“What is the nature of those acts?”
“We have been told that it is your proudest boast that you are a rebel, and that you are ever on duty to aid and abet in every possible way the would-be destroyers of the United States government. If this be so, we cannot permit you to remain within our lines. Until Atlanta surrenders, Decatur will be our headquarters, and every consideration of interest to our cause requires that no one inimical to it should remain within our boundaries established by conquest.”
In reply to these charges, I said:
“Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so far as the charges you mention are concerned. If I were a man, I should be in the foremost ranks of those who are fighting for rights guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States. The Southern people have never broken that compact, nor infringed upon it in any way. They have never organized mobs to assassinate any portion of the people sharing the privileges granted by that compact. They have constructed no underground railroads to bring into our midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, and to carry off stolen property. They have never sought to array the subordinate element of the North indeadly hostility to the controlling element. No class of the women of the South have ever sought positions at the North which secured entrance into good households, and then betrayed the confidence reposed by corrupting the servants and alienating the relations between the master and the servant. No class of the women of the South have ever mounted the rostrum and proclaimed falsehoods against the women of the North—falsehoods which must have crimsoned with shame the very cheeks of Beelzebub.
“No class of the men of the South have ever tramped over the North with humbugs, extorting money either through sympathy or credulity, and engaged at the same time in the nefarious work of exciting the subordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine and murder. If the South is in rebellion, a well-organized mob at the North has brought it about. Long years of patient endurance accomplished nothing. The party founded on falsehood and hate strengthened and grew to enormous proportions. And, by the way, mark the cunning of that party. Finding that the Abolition party made slow progress and had to work in the dark, it changed its name and took in new issues, and by a systematic course of lying in its institutions of learning, from the lowly school-house to Yale College, and from its pulpits and rostrums, it inculcated lessons of hate towards the Southern people whom it would hurl into the crater of Vesuvius if endowed with the power. What was left us to do but to try to relieve that portion of the country which had permitted this sentiment of hate to predominate, of all connection with us, and of allresponsibility for the sins of which it proclaimed us guilty? This effort the South has made, and I have aided and abetted in every possible manner, and will continue to do so just as long as there is an armed man in the Southern ranks. If this be sufficient cause to expel me from my home, I await your orders. I have no favors to ask.”
Imagine my astonishment, admiration and gratitude, when that group of Federal officers, with unanimity said:
“I glory in your spunk, and am proud of you as my countrywoman; and so far from banishing you from your home, we will vote for your retention within our lines.”
Thus the truth prevailed; but a new phase of the conflict was inaugurated, as proved by subsequent developments.
Turning to my mother, Major Campbell said:
“Mother, how did our advance guards treat you?”
A quivering of the lips, and a tearful effort to speak, was all the response she could make. The aggravation of already extreme nervousness was doing its work.
“Would you like to see?” I said. He indicated rather than expressed an affirmative answer.
I went around and entered the house, and, opening the front door, invited him and his friends to come in. A hindrance to the exhibit I was anxious to make presented itself—we had neither candle nor lamp, and this I told to the officers. Calling to a man in the nearest camp, Major Campbell asked him to bring a light. This being done, I led the way into the frontroom, and there our distinguished guests were confronted by a huge pallet occupied by a sixteen-year-old negro boy. A thrill of amusement evidently passed through this group of western men, and electrical glances conveyed messages of distrust when I told them of my walk yesterday afternoon, accompanied by this boy, and his exhaustion before we got home, and his complaints of “hurting all over” before he lay down an hour ago.
A low consultation was held, and one of the officers left and soon returned with another who proved to be a physician. He aroused the boy, asked several questions, and examined his pulse and tongue.
“That will do,” said he, and turning to the others, he said:
“He is a very sick boy, and needs medical treatment at once. I will prescribe and go for the medicine, which I wish given according to directions.”
Having received a statement of the boy’s condition from a trusted source, we were evidently re-instated into the good opinion of Major Campbell and his friends. Telitha had retired from them to as great a distance as the boundaries of the room would permit, and every time she caught my eye she looked and acted what she could not express in words—utter aversion for the “Yank.”
We now resumed our inspection of the interior of the house. The contents of every drawer were on the floor, every article of value having been abstracted. Crockery scattered all over the room, suggested to the eye that it had been used to pelt the ghosts of the witches burned in Massachusetts a century or twoago. Outrages and indignities too revolting to mention met the eye at every turn. And the state of affairs in the parlor baffled description. Not an article had escaped the destroyer’s touch but the piano, and circumstances which followed proved that that was regarded as a trophy and only waited removal.
“Vandals! Vandals!” Major Campbell sorrowfully exclaimed, and all his friends echoed the opinion, and said:
“If the parties who did this work could be identified, we would hang them as high as Haman.”
But these parties were never identified. They were important adjuncts in the process of subjugation.
After wishing that the worst was over with us, these gentlemen, who had come in no friendly mood, bade us good night and took their leave. Thus the Lord of Hosts, in his infinite mercy, furnished a just tribunal to pass judgment upon my acts as a Southern woman, and that judgment, influenced by facts and surroundings, was just and the verdict humane.
The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864—The Death of Toby.
The excitement incident to the morning and evening of yesterday left my mother and myself in no frame of mind for repose, and we spent the night in suspense and painful apprehension of trouble yet to come greater and more dreadful than that through which we had passed. The medicine left for Toby by the physician summoned last night was faithfully administered according to direction, and the morning found him better, though able to sit up only for a short while at a time. Measles had developed, and we felt hopeful that it would prove to be a very slight attack; and such it might have been could we have controlled him properly, but the excitement and ever-varying scenes in the yard, and as far as vision extended, were so new and strange to him that, when unobserved, he spent much of his time at a window commanding the best view of the scene, and, thus exposed to a current of air, the disease ceased to appear on the surface and a troublesome cough ensued.
Having been without food since the preceding morning, our thoughts turned to the usual preparation for breakfast, but alas, those preparations had to be dispensed of, as we had nothing to prepare. This state of affairs furnished food for at least serious reflection, and the inquiry, “What are we to do?”found audible expression. The inexorable demands of hunger could not be stifled, and we knew that the sick boy needed hot tea and the nourishment which food alone could give, and yet we had nothing for ourselves or for him—so complete had been the robbery of the “advance guards” of the Grand Army of the Republic that not a thing, animate or inanimate, remained with which to appease our hunger. “What are we to do?” was iterated and reiterated, and no solution of the question presented itself. Even then appetizing odors from the camp-fires were diffusing themselves upon the air and entering our house, but aliens were preparing the food and we had no part in it. We debated this question, and finally resolved not to expose ourselves to the jeers and insults of the enemy by an act of ours that would seem to ask for food; but that we would go to our Southern citizens in the war-stricken and almost deserted town, and, if they were not completely robbed, ask them to share their supplies with us until we could procure aid from outside of the lines so arbitrarily drawn.
In this dilemma an unexpected relief came to us, and convinced us that there was good even in Nazareth. A large tray, evidently well-filled, and covered with a snow-white cloth, was brought in by an Irishman, who handed a card to my mother containing these words:
“To Mrs. Stokes and daughter, Miss Gay, with compliments of
(Major)Campbell.
“Please accept this small testimonial of regard and respectful sympathy.”
The latter part of the brief message was thesesame that secured acceptance of this offering, and my mother and myself jointly acknowledged it with sincere thanks, and again we thought of Elijah and the ravens. The contents of the tray—coffee, sugar, and tea, sliced ham and a variety of canned relishes, butter, potatoes, and oatmeal and bread, were removed and the tray returned. That tray on its humane mission, having found its way into our house, more than once opportunely reappeared. We enjoyed the repast thus furnished, although briny tears were mingled with it.
The day passed without any immediate adventure. Great activity prevailed in army ranks. The coming and going of cavalry; the clatter of sabre and spur; the constant booming of cannon and report of musketry, all convinced us that the surrender of Atlanta by the Confederates was quite a matter of time. A few thousand men, however brave and gallant, could not cope successfully with “three hundred thousand” who ignored every usage of civilized warfare, and fought only for conquest.
I cannot say how long this state of affairs lasted before Wheeler’s Cavalry, supported by Confederate infantry, stole a march upon the Yankees and put them to flight. Garrard and his staff officers were in our parlor—their parlorpro tem.—holding a council; the teamsters and army followers were lounging about promiscuously, cursing and swearing and playing cards, and seeming not to notice the approaching artillery until their attention was called to it, and then they contended that it was their men firing off blank cartridges. I intuitively felt that a conflict was onhand. Ma and I held whispered conversations and went from one window to another, and finally rushed into the yard. Men in the camps observed our excitement and said, “Don’t be alarmed, it is only our men firing off their blank cartridges.”
The irony of fate was never more signally illustrated than on this occasion. I would have laid down my life, yea, a thousand breathing, pulsing lives of my own, to have witnessed the overthrow of the Yankee army, and yet, I may have been the means of saving a large portion of it on that occasion. Dreading for my mother’s sake and for the sake of the deaf girl and the sick boy, an attack upon the forces which covered our grounds, I ran to one of the parlor doors and knocked heavily and excitedly. An officer unlocked the door and opening it said:
“What is it?”
“Our men must be nearly here,” I replied.
“Impossible,” he said, and yet, with a bound he was in the yard, followed in quick succession by each member of the conclave.
A signal, long, loud, and shrill, awakened the drowsy, and scattered to the four winds of heaven cards, books and papers; and, in a few minutes, horses and mules were hitched to wagons, and the mules, wagons and men were fairly flying from the approach of the Confederates. Women and children came pouring in from every direction, and the house was soon filled. Before Garrard’s wagon train was three hundred yards away, our yard was full of our men—our own dear “Johnnie Rebs.” Oothcaloga Valley boys, whom I had known from babyhood, kissed, inpassing, the hand that waved the handkerchief. An officer, ah, how grand he looked in gray uniform, came dashing up and said:
“Go in your cellar and lie down; the Federals are forming a line of battle, and we, too, will form one that will reach across the grounds, and your house will be between the two lines. Go at once.”
My mother ran and got Toby’s shoes and put them on for him, and told him to get up and come with her, and as he went out of the house, tottering, I threw a blanket over him, and he and Telitha went with ma to our near neighbor, Mrs. Williams, her cellar being considered safer than ours. I remained in our house for the twofold purpose of taking care of it, if possible, and of protecting, to the best of my ability, the precious women and children who had fled to us for protection. Without thought of myself I got them all into the room that I thought would be safest, and urged them to lie down upon the floor and not to move during the battle. Shot and shell flew in every direction, and the shingles on the roof were following suit, and the leaves, and the limbs, and the bark of the trees were descending in showers so heavy as almost to obscure the view of the contending forces. The roaring of cannon and the sound of musketry blended in harmony so full and so grand, and the scene was so absorbing, that I thought not of personal danger, and more than once found myself outside of the portals ready to rush into the conflict—for was not I a soldier, enlisted for the war? Nor was I the only restless, intrepid person in the house on that occasion. An old lady, in whose veins flowedthe blood of the Washingtons, was there, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I restrained her from going out into the arena of warfare. The traditions of her ancestors were so interwoven with her life, that, at an age bordering on four score years and ten, they could not relax their hold upon her; and she and I might have gone in opposite directions had we fled to the ranks of the contending armies.
Mine was, no doubt, the only feminine eye that witnessed the complete rout of the Federals on that occasion. At first I could not realize what they were doing, and feared some strategic movement; but the “rebel yell” and the flying blue-coats brought me to a full realization of the situation, and I too joined in the loud acclaim of victory. And the women and children, until now panic-stricken and silent as death, joined in the rejoicing. All the discouragement of the past few weeks fled from me, and hope revived, and I was happy, oh, so happy! I had seen a splendidly equipped army, Schofield’s division, I think, ignominiously flee from a little band of lean, lank, hungry, poorly-clad Confederate soldiers, and I doubted not an over-ruling Providence would lead us to final victory.
When the smoke of the battle cleared away, my mother and her ebony charge returned home. Toby quickly sought his pallet, and burning fever soon rendered him delirious the greater part of the time. In one of his lucid intervals, he asked me to read the Bible to him, and he told me what he wanted me to read about, and said:
“Miss Missouri used to read it to me, and I thought it was so pretty.” And I read to him thestory of the cross—of Jesus’ dying love, and he listened and believed. I said to him:
“My boy, do you think you are going to die?”
“Yes’m, I think I am.”
I bowed my head close to him and wept, oh, how bitterly.
“Miss Mary, don’t you think I’ll go to heaven?” he anxiously asked.
“Toby, my boy, there is one thing I want to tell you; can you listen to me?”
“Yes’m.”
“I have not always been just to you. I have often accused you of doing things that I afterwards found you did not do, and then I was not good enough to acknowledge that I had done wrong. And when you did wrong, I was not forgiving enough; and more than once I have punished you for little sins, when I, with all the light before me, was committing greater ones every day, and going unpunished, save by a guilty conscience. And now, my boy, I ask you to forgive me. Can you do it?”
“Oh, yes’m!”
“Are you certain that you do? Are you sure that there is no unforgiving spirit in you towards your poor Miss Mary, who is sorry for all she has ever done that was wrong towards you.”
“Oh, yes’m!”
“Then, my boy, ask the Lord to forgive you for your sins just as I have asked you to forgive me, and He will do it for the sake of Jesus, who died on the cross that sinners might be redeemed from their sins and live with Him in heaven.”
I can never forget the ineffable love, and faith, and gratitude, depicted in that poor boy’s face, while I live; and as I held his soft black hand in mine, I thought of its willing service to “our boys,” and wept to think I could do no more for him, and that his young life was going out before he knew the result of the cruel war that was waged by the Abolitionists! He noticed my grief, and begged me not to feel so badly, and added that he was willing to die.
I arose from my position by his bed and asked him if there was anything in the world I could do for him. In reply he said:
“I would like to have a drink of water from the Floyd spring.”
“You shall have it, my boy, just as soon as I can go there and back,” and I took a pitcher and ran to the spring and filled and refilled it several times, that it might be perfectly cool, and went back with it as quickly as possible. He drank a goblet full of this delicious water and said it, was “so good,” and then added:
“You drink some, too, Miss Mary, and give Miss Polly some.”
I did so, and he was pleased. He coughed less and complained less than he had done since the change for the worse, and I deluded myself into the hope that he might yet recover. In a short while he went to sleep, and his breathing became very hard and his temperature indicated a high degree of fever. I urged my mother to lie down, and assured her that if I thought she could do anything for Toby at any time during the night I would call her.
I sat there alone by that dying boy. Not a movement on his part betrayed pain. His breathing was hard and at intervals spasmodic. With tender hands I changed the position of his head, and for a little while he seemed to breathe easier. But it was only for a little while, and then it was evident that soon he would cease to breathe at all. I went to my mother and waked her gently and told her I thought the end was near with Toby, and hurried back to him. I thought him dead even then; but, after an interval, he breathed again and again, and all was over. The life had gone back to the God who gave it, and I doubt not but that it will live with Him forever. The pathos of the scene can never be understood by those who have not witnessed one similar to it in all its details, and I will not attempt to describe it. No timepiece marked the hour, but it was about midnight, I ween, when death set the spirit of that youthful negro free. Not a kindred being nor a member of his own race was near to lay loving hand upon him, or prepare his little body for burial. We stood and gazed upon him as he lay in death in that desolated house, and thought of his fidelity and loving interest in our cause and its defenders, and of his faithful service in our efforts to save something from vandal hands; and the fountain of tears was broken up and we wept with a peculiar grief over that lifeless form.
My mother was the first to become calm, and she came very near me and said, as if afraid to trust her voice:
“Wouldn’t it be well to ask Eliza Williams and others to come and ‘lay him out?’”
Before acting on this suggestion I went into another room and waked Telitha and took her into the chamber of death. A dim and glimmering light prevented her from taking in the full import of the scene at first; but I took her near the couch, and, pointing to him, I said:
“Dead!—Dead!”
She repeated interrogatively, and, when she fully realized that such was the case, her cries were pitiable, oh, so pitiable.
I sank down upon the floor and waited for the paroxysm of grief to subside, and then went to her and made her understand that I was going out and that she must stay with her mistress until I returned. An hour later, under the manipulation of good “Eliza Williams”—known throughout Decatur as Mrs. Ammi Williams’ faithful servant—and one or two others whom she brought with her, Toby was robed in a nice white suit of clothes prepared for the occasion by the faithful hands of his “Miss Polly,” whom he had loved well and who had cared for him in his orphanage.
We had had intimation that the Federals would again occupy Decatur, and as soon as day dawned I went to see Mr. Robert Jones, Sen., and got him to make a coffin for Toby, and I then asked “Uncle Mack,” and “Henry”—now known as Decatur’s Henry Oliver—to dig the grave. Indeed, these two men agreed to attend to the matter of his burial. After consultation with my mother, it was agreed that that should take place as soon as all things were in readiness. Mr. Jones made a pretty, well-shapedcoffin out of good heart pine, and the two faithful negro men already mentioned prepared with care the grave. When all was in readiness, the dead boy was placed in the coffin and borne to the grave by very gentle hands.
Next to the pall-bearers my mother and myself and Telitha fell in line, and then followed the few negroes yet remaining in the town, and that funeral cortege was complete.
At the grave an unexpected and most welcome stranger appeared. “Uncle Mack” told me he was a minister, and would perform the funeral service—and grandly did he do it. The very soul of prayer seemed embodied in this negro preacher’s invocation; nor did he forget Toby’s “nurses,” and every consolation and blessing was besought for them. And thus our Toby received a Christian burial.
EVERETT’S DESERTION.
During the early spring of that memorable year, 1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur that Judge Hook and family, including his accomplished daughter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, from Chattanooga, had arrived at the depot, and were domiciled,pro tem., in cars which had been switched off the main track of the famous old Georgia Railroad. This novel mode of living, even in war times, by people in their monetary condition and social standing, naturally attracted much attention, and brought us to a full realization of approaching danger. That this family, accustomed to all the luxuries of an elegant home, should live in such an abode, with its attendant privations, was convincing proof that the home they had abandoned had become intolerable because of the proximity of the enemy; and it was also fearfully suggestive that that ubiquitous enemy was extending his dominion and bringing the fiery, bloody conflict into the very heart of the “rebellion.”
A rebellion, by way of parenthesis, which impartial historians will put on record as the grandest uprising of a long suffering people that was ever known in the annals of nations; “a mutiny” (as that chief of Southern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose superb egotism impressed him with the idea that his influencecould change the political trend of Great Britain towards the South, has seen proper to denominate it) in the camp of American councils brought about by unceasing abuse of the Southern States by political tricksters, whose only hope of survival lay in the hatred for the South thus engendered.
The coming of Judge Hook’s family was hailed with pleasure by all good and loyal citizens, and was a ligament connecting more closely states suffering in a common cause; and we all called upon them and soon numbered them with our intimate friends. Mrs. Whitesides and Miss Hook were effective workers in all that benefited our soldiers or their families.
Judge Hook was superintendent of the Government Iron Works, and literally brought the foundry as well as the operatives with him. Among the latter was a man by the name of Everett, who, with his family, consisting of his wife and five children, occupied an old one-room house near a corner of our home lot. Although a hearty, hale, and rather good-looking man, Everett was very poor, and the first time I ever saw his wife she came to borrow “a little flour.” As my mother never turned away from a borrower, Mrs. Everett’s vessel was filled to overflowing, and, besides, a pitcher of buttermilk and a plate of butter was given to her, for which she was extremely grateful.
An acquaintance thus begun continued during the spring and early summer months, and there was not a day during that period that my mother did not find it convenient to do something for this family. Mrs. Everett was more than ordinarily intelligent for a person in her position, and the blush which mantledher pretty cheeks when she asked for anything betrayed her sensibility; and her children were pretty and sweet-mannered. I never saw Everett, only as I met him going and coming from his work, and on those occasions he showed the greatest respect for me by taking off his hat as he approached me, and holding it in his hand until he had fully passed. He seemed to be a steady worker, and if he ever lost a day I never heard of it; and Mrs. Everett was industrious, but much of the time unemployed for lack of material with which to work, and she often begged for something to do. She was anxious to work for our soldiers, and told me that all of her male relatives were in the Confederate army. This circumstance endeared her very much to me; and I made the support of his family very much easier to Everett than it would have been had he lived in a non-appreciative neighborhood. And when the village girls met at our house to practice for concerts for the benefit of our soldiers, which they did almost weekly, I never forgot that Mrs. Everett’s brothers were in our army fighting valiantly, no doubt, for our cause, and I always asked her to come and bring her children to my room and listen with me to the sweet music and patriotic songs.
As time sped, many opportunities for witnessing Mrs. Everett’s devotion to her native land presented themselves; and her service to its defenders, though humble and unobtrusive, was valuable. Her children, too, always spoke lovingly of our soldiers, and were never more happy than when doing something for them. At length the time came for another move of the foundry, and quietly, as if by magic, it and itsappurtenants, under the judicious management of Judge Hook, got on wheels and ran at the rate of thirty-five miles an hour until it reached Augusta—another haven of rest invested with heavenly beauty. After the departure of this important adjunct to this portion of the Confederacy, it was discovered that Everett and his family remained in Decatur. And a remarkable change came over them. Instead of the free-spoken, unsophisticated woman that she had always appeared to be, Mrs. Everett became reserved and taciturn, and seldom left the enclosure by which her humble dwelling was surrounded. And the children ceased to cheer us by their merry prattle and daily trip for a pitcher of buttermilk, which, under the changed and unexplained circumstances, my mother sent to them.
On the never-to-be-forgotten 19th of July, 1864, when a portion of Sherman’s army dashed into Decatur, it obtained a recruit. In an incredibly short time, Everett was arrayed in the uniform of a Yankee private, and was hustling around with the Yankees as if “to the manner born.”
On the 22d of July, when the Confederates ran the Yankees out of the little village they had so pompously occupied for a few days, Everett disappeared, and so did his family from the little house on the corner. I supposed they had left Decatur, until I went out in town to see if I could hear anything from the victors—their losses, etc.—when by chance I discovered that they had taken shelter in the old post-office building on the northeast corner of the court-house square.
The morning after the hurried evacuation of Decatur by the Federal troops, I arose, as was my custom, as day was dawning, and, as soon as I thought I could distinguish objects, I opened the front door and stepped out on the portico. As I stood looking upon the ruin and devastation of my war-stricken home, imagine my surprise and consternation when I saw a white handkerchief held by an invisible hand above a scuppernong grape arbor. My first impulse was to seek security within closed doors, but the thought occurred to me that some one might be in distress and needed aid. I therefore determined to investigate the case. In pursuance of this object I went down the steps, and advanced several yards in the direction of the waving signal, and asked:
“Who is there?”
“Come a little nearer, please,” was the distinct answer.
“I am near enough to hear you; what can I do for you?” I said, and did go a little nearer.
“Miss Mary, don’t be afraid of me; I would die for you and such as you, but I cannot die for a lost cause”—and through an opening in the foliage of the vines, which were more on the ground than on the scaffolding, a head protruded—handsome brown eyes and dark whiskers included—Everett’s head, in all the naturalness of innocence.
I thought of his wife and of his children, and of his wife’s brother in the Confederate army, and again asked with deliberation:
“What can I do for you?”
“Bless me or curse me,” was the startling answer, and he continued:
“Your kindness to my wife and children has nerved me to come to you and ask that you will aid me in seeing them, especially her. Will you do it?”
“Yes, though I despise you for the steps you have taken, I will grant your request. Don’t be afraid that I will betray you.”
“Where shall I go?” he asked, with a perceptible tremor in his voice.
“While I am out here seeming to prop up these shrubs, make your way to the kitchen and enter its front door, and don’t close it after you, but let it remain wide open. But be still until I tell you to start.”
As if going for something, I walked hastily around the house and kitchen, and entering the latter brought out an old hoe, and seemed to use it quite industriously in banking up earth around fallen shrubbery. Watching an opportunity—for in those war times all things, animate and inanimate, seemed to have ears—I said:
“When I go into the house, you must go into the kitchen, and be certain to let the doors remain open.”
I never knew how Everett made his journey, whether upright as a man, or upon all-fours like a beast.
From sheer exhaustion my poor mother was sleeping still, and Toby’s breathing and general appearance as he lay upon his pallet, plainly indicated the presence of deep seated disease. I looked around for Telitha, and not seeing her, went into the diningroom where I found her sitting by a window. By unmistakable signs she made me understand that she had witnessed the entire proceeding connected with Everett through the window blinds.
Soon the loud tramping of horses’ feet caused me to run again to the front door, and I beheld a number of our scouts approaching. I went to meet them and shook hands with every one of them. No demonstration, however enthusiastic, could have been an exaggeration of my joy on again seeing our men, our dear Confederate soldiers, and yet I thought of Everett and trembled.
“Have you seen any Billy Yanks this morning?” was asked by several of them; and I replied:
“No, I have not seen any since our men ran them out of Decatur yesterday.”
“How did they treat you while they were here?”
“You see the devastation of the place,” I replied. “Personally we escaped violence; but I would like you to go into the house and see the condition of affairs there.”
Said they:
“It would not be new to us. We have seen the most wanton destruction of property and household goods wherever they have gone.”
“Do wait and let me have a pot of coffee made for you. The Yankees gave our negro girl quite a good deal of it, and not using it herself, she gave it to my mother, and I want you to enjoy some of it,” I said. They replied.
“Soldiers can’t wait for luxuries.”
“Good-bye and God bless you,” was their partingbenediction. And then as if impelled by some strange inspiration they galloped round to the well. I ran into the house and got several tumblers and fairly flew out there with them, as there was no gourd at the well. The kitchen was in close proximity, and the door stood invitingly open. What if a bare suspicion should prompt these brave men to enter? Alas! All would be up with the poor miscreant who had thrown himself upon my mercy, and who was even then lurking there under my direction. But, thank the good Lord, they did not enter, and after again invoking God’s blessings upon me, they galloped off in a southerly direction; and never did retreating sounds give more relief.
I went into the house. My mother, thoroughly exhausted, and perhaps discouraged, chose to remain in bed, and as she lay gazing intently upon the wall above her, I doubt if she saw it, so intense was her meditation. As Telitha by this time had a fire made in the dining room, I prepared a pot of good strong coffee, and after partaking of the exhilarating beverage myself, and seeing that each of the household was supplied, I took the remainder with necessary adjuncts to Everett. Never will I forget his appearance as we stood face to face—he a miserable deserter from the cause I loved, and the recipient of favors I scorned myself for bestowing. I told him I would go at once for his wife, and that after seeing her he must make his way into the enemy’s lines as soon as possible.
A few minutes sufficed to carry me to Mrs. Everett’s retreat, already mentioned. I sat down on the front doorsteps and drew from my pocket anewspaper, which chanced to be there, and commenced reading aloud. At length I saw that my presence had attracted the notice of the children, and I called them. One by one they came to me, and I shook hands with them and asked them about their mother. Hearing my voice and inquiries, she spoke to me most pleasantly. I asked her to come out and take a seat by me on the steps. She did so, blushingly and timidly. I wrote on the margin of the paper, “Send the children away,” and handed it to her. She did so. Assured that they were not in hearing distance, I held the paper before me, and, as if reading, I told her the story of my early interview with her husband; of his earnest desire to see her; of my consent, on her account, to plan a meeting with her; of his secretion in our kitchen; and the necessity of the greatest caution in our movements. I told her that after walking around a little, and exchanging experiences with the brave ladies of the village, she would see me, by keeping watch, going home, and then she could take a little basket in her hand, as if going for something, and come on to our house. She implicitly followed my directions. My mother received her as if nothing of an unpleasant nature had transpired; and, although it is a very difficult problem, and never solved without the aid of necromancy, I undertook to deduct something from nothing, and so far succeeded that I had several small packages to lay in her basket as she started. Knowing that she knew the way to the kitchen, I gave her a wish that all would end well, and bade her good-bye, never, doubtless, to meet her again on earth. The tears flowed plenteously downher cheeks, and her tongue refused to speak, but the pressure of her hand attested gratitude, and affection, and farewell. I got a glimpse of her as she went out of the alley gate; but I never knew when he abandoned his hiding place. I heard that about dusk a Federal army wagon, under protection of a company of troops, came and took her and her little children out of Decatur.