Our drive home was gloomy and we did not reach there until 7 o'clock. As we drew near we met several of the negroes on farm horses looking for us, and at the avenue gate our maid Fanny peering for us in the dark. Mother and the aunts were wretched about us, particularly as Uncle Pete had come up from the city full of bad news. Charleston is to be evacuated, as Sherman's movements have made that necessary. He was horrified when he heard that we had taken so long a drive, as he says the woods are full of stragglers and escaped galvanized Yankees. I do not know what is before us, or when you will hear from us again.
Otranto, February 20, 1865.
Charleston is being evacuated and our army is passing all the time, and we reconcile ourselves to being left in the enemy's lines by the hope that our army, strengthened by the coast troops, may defeat Sherman. This letter will go by the last of our troops. The army has been passing for five days and many of the men come up to the house, where we give them everything we can for them to eat. They are full of courage and their appearance gives us renewed hope. They hate to leave us behind.Henry spent last night here. He got leave of absence with difficulty, but will rejoin his regiment at Strawberry Ferry. He begged mother to retire into the interior; but we mean to stay. He left us this morning. The captain in command of the rear-guard at Goose Creek Bridge has just come to bid us good-by, and he took two letters, which he promised to carry into our lines—one to papa and the other to aunt, which we knew would be the last tidings they would get from us.
This may, or may not reach you, but it is a comfort to write. The worst has come, or I hope it has. After my last letter we awaited the approach of the enemy with indescribable feelings. We tried not to think, and I must say I was afraid of being frightened out of my wits and was too thankful when the Yankees came. I was too angry to be scared. We tried to keep up each other's spirits and were very busy hiding things. We took only Paul, Jack and Martha into our confidence and they helped us faithfully.
Tuesday passed in quiet. Mother, Annie and I took our usual walk in the afternoon and met one of the negroes, who told us that our men had not burned the bridge, and we determined that if this was the fact, we would do it ourselves; but as we approached we were glad to see it blazing in the distance. We felt then that we were really cut off from our ownpeople, but at the same time had satisfaction in knowing that if our army was pursued the enemy would here meet an obstacle.
At 5 o'clock Wednesday afternoon as we were again getting ready for a walk, a man was seen riding rapidly up the avenue. I called out, "The Yankees are here. I know them by their blue legs!" and you may be sure the family assembled quickly. In the mean while the man dashed past the house and rode quickly around it, evidently expecting some one to run out; finding no one, he returned to the front of the house, where we five ladies stood together on the piazza. By this time we saw many others coming up the avenue.
"Where is the man of the house?" demanded the man in an insolent tone.
Mamma replied, "He is not at home," and Aunt May added, "He is a gray-haired man."
He gave a leer and said, "But not too old to be in the Rebel army." This could not be denied, so we were silent. Then, with an expression of triumph he said, "You have never seen black troops, but you will soon have that pleasure; they are advancing now."
Mamma said, "I suppose they are not different from other negroes; we are accustomed to them and never have feared them."
This calm reply was evidently a disappointment, as he had hoped we would have been overcome with fear.
He turned off and said, "I must get some poultry for the General's supper," and went to the fowl-house, where about a dozen of his men joined him. In a few moments the cart, which just at the moment was coming up with a load of wood, was seized and filled with our fowls, turkeys, geese, etc., and driven off.
I happened to turn my eyes toward the western entrance from the main road and saw the negro soldiers rushing in.
To my latest day I will not forget their brutal appearance. They came up brandishing their guns with an air of wildness hard to describe, and in a short time were scattered over the plantation, committing every conceivable havoc. Their commander, Lieutenant J——, of New York, rode up to the house, accompanied by several white officers, and while we stood still and calmly upon the piazza he called out, "Where is the man of the house?"
Mother replied as before, when he said, "He is a Rebel," and turning to her said, "I am come to liberate your people," to which she quietly replied, "I hope you will be as kind to them as we have been." This visibly angered him and he exclaimed, "That is a strange reply to make to a Northern man, and an officer of a colored regiment." To which she replied, "We will not discuss the question."
He turned and said something to Quash, our waiting-man, and in a short time we heard him and the other officers upstairs in our bed-rooms. Mammaand Aunt Anna followed quietly and found that he had summoned our two maids, Rachel and Fanny, and was exhorting them to disclose where everything of value was concealed, saying, "Don't lie; that woman (meaning mother) is very bad," and a great deal more in the same strain, trying to incite them against us. They spoke to these servants as "Madam," and of mother as "that woman."
The two girls were very frightened, but behaved remarkably well and assured them that no valuables were hidden, and only the ladies' clothes were in the rooms. However, they ransacked our wardrobes and bureau drawers, throwing our things out all over the floor, and when they came downstairs took all the cold meats out of the larder.
While mother and Aunt Anna were upstairs helplessly following Lieutenant J—— around and witnessing his shameless conduct in our bed-rooms, Aunt May, Annie and I remained downstairs. A quiet-looking officer was standing in the piazza.
Aunt May, who never can control her curiosity, said to him, "We heard some heavy firing in Charleston this morning. Has anything occurred there?" "Good Heavens, Madam," he replied, "have you been so long out of the Union that you have forgotten Washington's birthday?"
At this moment about twenty rough-looking men came charging up to the house, evidently intending to enter. I confess that, for the first time I was alarmed, and calling to the officer said, "ForHeaven's sake, protect us; don't let those men enter." He said, "I will do what I can," and placed himself in the doorway.
The men seeing him come forward as our protector, stopped in the piazza. By this time Lieutenant J—— and his party had returned from searching our bed-rooms, and calling to his men said, "Boys, take what you want." These acted like long-pent-up animals suddenly let loose. All our stock, horses and mules were driven off, our cattle, sheep and hogs were killed; the barns and smoke-house were broken open, and all their contents scattered, and all our vehicles of every kind, tools and implements were broken in pieces and thrown into the creek or burned.
It was awful to hear the screams of the cattle and hogs as they were chased and bayoneted, and the scatter and terror of the sheep was terrible to see. Even my pet calf, which you know papa gave me, and I took so much pleasure in raising by hand, was killed; and dear old Aaron, our house cat, was cruelly run through with a bayonet, right before my eyes, as he tried to escape under the house. Such brutal scenes I never had supposed I would ever have to witness.
While all this was going on mother said to Lieutenant J——, "If you take from us all means of subsistence we will starve." He turned, and with much satisfaction said, "You are being punished for what you have done;" and going out, mounted hishorse and rode off among the negroes, proclaiming to them their freedom and incessantly asking for "the man of the house." They could only say that he was absent, when he said, "He may not be here, but he has left a——rebel of a woman, who is as bad as a man, and the house ought to be burnt." The negroes were very much alarmed, and entreated us not to talk to the soldiers as they hated us so and said such awful things.
It was now quite dark and the excitement and confusion were truly awful. We all withdrew to the parlor, and closing the door sat in the dark, not knowing what the next moment might bring forth; but the faithful Quash brought in a candle and placed it on the table with his accustomed air.
He had scarcely brought it in when the front door was opened and in walked General Potter, followed by his aids. Not one of them had the decency to make the least salutation, or take any notice of the five ladies seated in the room. But the General immediately seated himself, while Lieutenant J——seized our candle, and opening mother's bed-room door called out, "General, this will be a comfortable room for you," to which remark the General assented. Lieutenant J——, then looking around said, "I take possession of this room for General Potter." After this the General made repeated attempts at conversation with us, but as we had that afternoon seen such wanton destruction of our property, and were constrained to see our enemiesoccupying the rooms in which it had been so often our pleasure to entertain our friends, you may imagine we were in no mood for conversation.
We all soon went upstairs, where Quash brought us some tea. As it was then near midnight we decided to go to bed, and mother said she would go down in the morning and request that a written protection be furnished us, as this had been suggested by the quiet-looking officer, our protector of the afternoon before. Therefore, as early as possible she did so, but General Potter received her very shortly, and only replied, "Your husband is in the Rebel army." She replied, "It was our desire that he should leave us, and I am glad he is not here, for if he had been I suppose he would have been shot."
He replied, "You talk like a fool when you say that," and turned off; when mother said, "If that is your opinion, I have the more need of protection."
As the General was about to go out to mount his horse at the door, Lieutenant B—— came to the rescue, saying, "General, with your permission, I can write a paper addressed to the officers and men of the United States army, saying that it is your desire that this house and its lady occupants be unmolested."
The General only answered, "You may if you wish," when a paper to that effect was written, and its influence was certainly beneficial. We felt that we owed our safety largely to Lieutenant B——, who conducted himself in every way as a gentleman,and on leaving thanked mother courteously for his night's accommodation and politely bowed to all of us.
It was near midday before all of the officers had left the house, and we, much jaded, were able to have breakfast. The house was now kept strictly shut up, as the lawn was still studded with the tent flies of the regiment encamped there. If a door was opened for a moment, a soldier would walk in, and it was as much as mother could do to get him out again.
We kept almost entirely upstairs, taking all of our meals there, and in constant dread of making any noise. One man said to mother, "The General thinks that your husband is hidden; he does not believe that he is not here."
In this extremity a kind-looking Irish soldier came to our aid and promised that we should be protected if it "cost him his life," and that he would bring a friend with him, who would spend the night in the shed room, "to be handy, if needed." This kind friend, McManus, proved his Irish blood by bringing the most villainous specimen of a man we had yet seen, and whispering to mother that "sure he had no confidence in him at all."
We were much taken aback at McManus's friend's appearance, but relieved when the chaplain of the regiment came up and asked to be allowed to sleep in the house.
Our servants behaved admirably and themselves provided and served our meals with unfailing regularity, and managed to give us many little treats, which we suspected came from the United States commissariat. Mother hopes that she may be able to get us to the city in safety, for our position here is very unprotected and we wish to get possession of our house in the city before it falls into the hands of the Freedmen's Bureau.
I place this letter in the hands of ——, who promises to get it through the lines, and I trust it will reach you.
Charleston, March 14, 1865.
I hope my last safely reached you, and I know you feel anxious about us, so I will get —— to smuggle this through the lines. You will be relieved to know that we are once more in our house in Charleston.
By dint of mother's representations of our unprotected condition on the plantation to the officer in command, and her frequent reminders that by their confiscation of all our animals and destruction of our vehicles we had been deprived of all means of transporting ourselves to the city, she obtained transportation.
As soon as the Northeastern Railroad was put in running order, which was within a few days after Charleston was evacuated, the major informed usthat we might ride down in a box-car. He also gave us permission to carry in the car whatever household goods we could.
It was hard to choose from the accumulation of years what furniture to take with us, as we knew that all that was left would be stolen, our presence only having kept out the vagrant negroes and camp followers, who, we heard from the servants, complained very much that our house had not been gutted as had others in the neighborhood. We had a very short time for choosing, as we had notice only in the afternoon, that we must be off in the morning. Mother had a time among us, as each had something very untransportable, which, to quote dear Aunt Anna, "it would be sacrilege to leave."
I fought hard for all the books and the old sofa, which had been in the house since the Revolution, and was said to have been Washington's favorite seat when he visited the plantation in 1791; but I had to content myself with only the books that I could get into a trunk, and when our friendly Irish soldier, McManus, who volunteered to help us move the things, seized our valued sofa to hoist it into the car, it proved its antiquity by breaking in pieces. I could have cried over the loss, but mother said, "This is no time for sentiment; it has served from one Revolution to be wrecked in another."
The last night we spent at the plantation was truly forlorn. The servants warned us to expect an attack from some vagrant negroes, who had come from theup-country, and were roving about, as Maum Martha expressed it, "free till dey fool," robbing and destroying, unchecked by the authorities.
We asked the officer in command to give us a guard for the night, but he refused; so mother decided that we must spend the night together in the parlor. The men servants promised to watch outside, and both Fanny and Rachel begged to be allowed to stay with us in the house. You may imagine that it was a weary vigil, as none of us slept, and we put out the light, fearing lest it might guide some evil-doer.
Paul, Quash and Jack walked around the house by turns all night; and I am sure that it was owing to their faithful watchfulness that the dawn found us unmolested.
At an early hour Maum Martha brought in a nice breakfast, and with some pride told us that one of the officers had seen her preparing it and had expressed surprise; but she had told him that she was from an old Congo family herself, an' no upstart free nigger; for since Maussa's family came from France, and hers from Africa, they had been together for five generations. "An' so long as I's in de kitchen I knew what's proper to be sent in de house, even if I hab to scurry to get it."
Quash, Fanny, and Rachel came with us to the city, but Maum Martha and Paul were left behind in their home.
With difficulty we got in to the dirty box-car, and Aunt May had quilted into her skirts many papers for safe-keeping and around her shoulders had her valuable cashmere shawl sewed under a black one, all of which weighted her down so that she fell, and frightened us much by her inability to rise.
We picked her up and were thankful that she was not hurt, and had been kept from getting up only by her entourage.
At the station in Charleston we first heard of the burning of Columbia and while we were waiting for a carriage the officer in command of the guard kept dinning into our ears that General Hampton had burned that city, which assertion mother firmly contradicted, persistently saying that General Sherman had done it.
We were much afraid that we would find our house taken by the Freedmen's Bureau, or by some officers for a residence, but happily neither was the case. But we found that nearly all the furniture had been stolen, and were thankful to have the few pieces that we had brought from the plantation.
As it was on Saturday that we came down all of our things had to be left in the station until Monday, and then when Quash went for them he found that the military gentry (?) had taken from among them whatever they wanted.
All the furniture that we found in the house was an old table and a very large book-case, and my only bed thus far has been a mosquito net spread on the floor.
On Sunday afternoon mother and Aunt May went to see Cousin M., who is very ill, and while Annie and I remained with Aunt Anna, who was resting on her mattress on the floor, Rachel came rushing up stairs, saying, "Oh, mam, some officers say they want this house and have come to take it; they are coming up into the dining-room now."
I at once said, "We must go down and meet them," and calling to Annie to put the few spoons that were out at once in her pocket, we each gave Aunt Anna an arm and went down, followed by Rachel.
I must say I felt much agitated at the thought of what we might encounter, and dreaded for our old aunt, who seemed much unnerved.
As we entered the dining-room by one door a naval officer came in by the other, advancing with a calm air of possession.
I was just going to speak when Aunt Anna astounded us by saying, in the kindest tones, "Why, Edmund! how is your mother?"
We thought her bereft of reason, but the effect upon the officer was instantaneously overwhelming. He staggered and exclaimed, "Good God! Miss J—, is it you? You shall not be molested," and turning quickly, left the house without giving her a chance to say another word.
It seems that Aunt Anna had instantly recognized him as the son of an old and dear friend in NewYork, and upon the return of mother and Aunt May the unlooked-for occurrence was fully discussed.
Aunt was much commended for recognizing him and we hope that her recognition will stand us in good stead, as we know that Lieutenant Henry is a gentleman, and on account of the warm friendship that has existed for so many years between our old aunts and the elder members of his family he will probably use any influence he may have with the authorities in our favor.
The next day another naval officer called at the house and asked to see mother, whom he told that he had had the pleasure, previous to the war, of serving with those of our family who were then in the navy, and although he had been blockading Charleston for many months he had promised our cousin, Lieutenant——, who remained in the United States Navy, that if he ever got into Charleston he would look us up, and gladly do what he could to help us.
Mother felt that in our present defenseless condition she should not refuse any offers of aid, and thanked him. He then produced a copy of a morning paper, which contained a general order that any citizen who desired protection must put a United States flag on his house, and that no outrages would be punished that were committed on premises that did not contain such flags.
After reading this order he drew from his pocket a small flag, which, he said, with our permission, he would tack to the piazza.
Mother politely declined his offer, but our aunts made such a point of the advisability of accepting it that she was induced to yield. He then asked me to hold the little staff while he tacked it to the post; but I could not touch it, and called to his assistance a little negro girl, as more appropriate, who stood staring in at the gate, and she held it for him.
Annie looked on quietly and said nothing, but at night, after we were gone to bed, said, "I cannot stand it. I cannot breathe with that flag there." She only expressed my own feelings, so we quietly went down in the dark, and pulling it down, secreted it.
We determined to keep our own counsel, as we had heard only the day before of the arrest and imprisonment of a lady for pulling down a similar flag, and had no desire to be martyrs, only we did not want it there. The next morning, while we held our peace, we were much amused at the excitement of our aunts over the disappearance of the flag, and their insisting that they knew it had been stolen, for they had seen "a man going down the street with one just like it."
The house now remains as heretofore, undecorated.
Captain Mayo, our naval friend, has just come to inform mother that orders have been issued by the commanding general that we all must go up King street tomorrow morning, and take the oath of allegiance to the United States. She positively refused, but Captain Mayo says that in case ofnoncompliance we will all have to leave the city at once. I am at a loss to imagine what grounds the authorities have for fear of us, as helpless a party of five ladies as can be found, the eldest being 81, and the youngest 16; but we must decide to-day, and unless you see us, if we are actually turned out, I will write you of the result in another letter.
Charleston, March 17, 1865.
Day before yesterday Captain Mayo returned and informed us that the orders had been modified, so that if we desired, only the oath of neutrality would be required.
We had never before heard of such an oath being required of helpless women, but we were willing to compromise under the circumstances. So as there was not the smallest chance of our ever being of any service again to the Confederate cause, we announced our willingness to declare ourselves neutral if the United States Government thought it important.
Aunt Anna said her 81 years rendered her utterly unable to walk as far as the provost marshal's office and asked if the commandant thought her neutrality of importance would he send an officer to the house to administer the oath? This was done.
Aunt May, having in view the new regulation, which prohibited the delivery of letters through the post-office to any one who had not taken the oath ofallegiance, and having her daughter in New York, from whom she was anxious to hear, said tremblingly that she would take the oath of allegiance.
Captain Mayo's manner to her immediately changed, and became very cordial, as he said he would go and notify the provost marshal and come back for us, whom he had already offered to accompany.
We retired to our room to make ourselves presentable for the streets, as we had not been out of the house since we came down from the plantation; and Annie and I changed our homespun dresses for our black and put on, with lurking feelings of satisfaction, our bonnets, for which we had paid the milliner, only a few months before, $150 each. We felt that our enemies would be impressed with the fact that we were quite within the circle of the fashionable world, and really when we appeared Captain Mayo seemed quite struck; but we did not then imagine the reason.
He courteously offered his arm to Aunt May, who took it with a deep sigh, and we, leaving Aunt Anna to Rachel's care, followed them to the provost marshal's office, where we had reason to be glad of Captain Mayo's escort, as the sidewalk in front of the office and the doorway were thronged with idle negroes, who would have made themselves very offensive if they had not seen us escorted by a United States officer.
As we entered, Captain Mayo said to us in a low tone, "The oath will be administered to you ladies by a member of one of the best families of Boston," to which Annie replied, "Don't you think that he might be better employed?"
Of this the captain took no notice as he led the party to the middle of a room, where we stood the attraction of many curious eyes. The officer at the table came forward and asked which of the ladies desired to take the oath of allegiance, whereupon Aunt May, looking very conscious, moved forward and tremblingly held up her hand, but she was so agitated that she could scarcely murmur her assent and sign her name to the iron-clad oath.
When she had finished Captain Mayo congratulated her upon her renewed loyalty, but much to his chagrin she replied, "I only did it so that I could get my letters from the post-office; but I had not idea that the oath contained such dreadful sentiments; please let me scratch out my name and take the oath of neutrality instead."
At this the provost marshal remarked, "Madam, do you not realize the sanctity of an oath, or do you desire to take all the oaths?"
Mother and Annie calmly took oaths of neutrality, and when my turn came and I stepped forward to swear neutrality to the United States, it appeared to be the crowning farce of the day. The officerspresent seemed to be impressed with the absurdity of the thing and could not control their countenances, and smiled as I stood before them.
As we sadly walked away we passed several Northern women and observed that they all wore bonnets not much larger than our hands, while our bonnets that we had thought so much of, with their lofty fronts, could be compared to nothing more truly than the tower of Pisa. We could not resist the idea that the oddity of our appearance must have led them to imagine that we had just come out of the ark.
Upon our arrival at home Annie and I at once set about cutting down our bonnets and drawing in and changing the shape of our skirts, but mother was very unsympathetic and said she could not imagine why we wished to look like Yankee women.
Annie and I witnessed a sickening sight yesterday when we were out on the street for a few moments. A handsome large dog was being chased by some negro soldiers, one of whom dashed out its brains with the butt of a rifle almost on to our skirts. We were dreadfully agitated, and upon mentioning the matter to Captain Mayo, he informed us that all dogs must have licenses or be killed. I was much distressed at the danger of losing my pet Cora, but Captain Mayo offered to obtain a license free for her if I would accept it, and as we did not have $1.50 to pay for it, we accepted his kind offer, so Cora is now protected.
Yesterday mother received notice that a war tax had been levied upon all real estate, and that it must be paid within thirty days. Our tax amounts to $180, and for our lives we cannot conceive where the money is coming from to pay it, as we have only one gold dollar among us, but little provisions, and only two of our cows that were smart enough to escape into the woods when the others of the herd were slaughtered at the plantation by General Potter's troops.
Mother was greatly troubled about the necessity of raising the money, and seeing an advertisement in the paper that old china and handsome pieces of glass would be bought by a Bostonian for relics, sent an answer to the address and this morning took from the trunk some of our best pieces we had saved and set them upon our only table in readiness for the purchaser.
While we were at dinner two very unattractive citizens of Boston presented themselves, who after looking at the articles, declined to purchase and instead offered themselves as boarders, saying that they had come to Charleston to open a grocery house and would be willing to pay their board in provisions. Of course this arrangement was promptly declined, but we were very much disheartened that our first effort to raise the money for the tax had proved such a failure.
I give you a copy of the oath of neutrality I had to take; it is such a farce.
"Headquarters Northern District Department South."Provost Marshal's Office, No. 35 King Street,"Charleston, S. C, March 15, 1865."I do hereby certify on honor that on the 15th day of March, 1865, at Charleston, S. C, the oath of neutrality to the United States of America was duly taken, subscribed and made matter of record of by Miss Marion Porcher."Thomas L. Appleton,Captain Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers,Provost Marshal, N. D. D. S"
"Headquarters Northern District Department South."Provost Marshal's Office, No. 35 King Street,
"Charleston, S. C, March 15, 1865.
"I do hereby certify on honor that on the 15th day of March, 1865, at Charleston, S. C, the oath of neutrality to the United States of America was duly taken, subscribed and made matter of record of by Miss Marion Porcher.
"Thomas L. Appleton,
Captain Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers,Provost Marshal, N. D. D. S"
One day some time ago, while turning over the contents of an old trunk, which had been mine since childhood, had followed me in innumerable moves, and contained the odds and ends full of associations as life goes on, I came to a pair of half-moon earrings; they were very large, and of old gold. "Oh!" I exclaimed, as I looked at them, "these bring Tay back to the life."
My little girls, who had been looking on, eager-eyed, for mamma's old trunk had always possessed a mysterious charm for Floy, and Grace, enhanced since some years previous, when, after I had given up the idea of having new cloaks for them for the winter, I chanced to see an advertisement for Confederate bonds, and succeeded in finding enough of these in my old trunk to supply the needed cloaks, and also other things.
"Who was Tay?" they both exclaimed. I felt a sense of self-reproach at the question; and I am sure to Tay herself the idea that one of her "chillun's chillun" could have reached the mature age of ten years and never had heard of her existence would haveseemed incredible. It was not from any lack of kindly recollection of the old woman that I had not told the children of her; but my life had been a busy one, with many invalid times, when the reverses of life pressed heavily, and I shrank from speaking voluntarily of my childhood days, which had been so different from theirs; and besides the children of the South to-day, whose mothers were half-grown girls at the time of emancipation, belong to a new order of things, and are out of sympathy with their parents on many subjects. They do not understand their elders' feelings toward the negroes. They regard them with very impartial eyes, and see them as they are to-day. And as the succession of careless, ignorant cooks and housemaids come and go they cannot understand the kind allowances made for their faults by those who remember the tender nursing of the dear old maumas. But to return to Tay.
"Who was Tay?" I repeated. "Why, one of the best of women; and it is high time you should hear about her, and love her memory. So if you will get your knitting and sit very quite I will tell you her story.
"Her name was Kitty, but we children always called her Tay. When your grandmother was married Tay was given to her as her maid; and a most accomplished one she was, besides being a skilled seamstress, and clear starcher. A younger woman had taken her place as maid when I first remember her, and she was the upper servant, always carryingthe keys, and taking charge of the household, when your grandmother was ill or absent. She was at least six feet tall; her waist claimed nearly half her length, or looked as if it did. She was quite light-colored, with large black eyes that looked as if a millstone would be no obstacle to her vision. I assure you her appearance was calculated to inspire awe in our breasts. Her great height was of itself impressive, and made more so by her costume. She usually wore a black frock with a very tight body, and full skirt; and an enormous bustle, such as was not worn in those days; a white hankerchief over her shoulders, pinned across her bosom; a white apron; and to cap the climax a very stiffly starched white turban (all the worn muslin dresses of the family went to keep up the supply). She always tied her turbans on a block to shape them, and stuffed a newspaper in the top to keep the shape; and when she finally put one on her head the effect was tremendous. Her pride in gold earrings was great. She always wore them, and kept them as shiny as could be. With the basket of keys on her arm, she would look like a person not to be trifled with, nor did we ever so venture. Her devotion to us all was very great—'Miss, Maussa, an' de chillun' bounded her horizon. Her idea was to economize; 'for Maussa,' she would say, 'is so freehanded, an' six chillun is a houseful.'"
"To us children she showed her regard by great sternness of demeanor, but compensated by thebeautiful tucking she did on our dresses—the only sewing she ever did. And your grandmother had no respite until she supplied the material Tay thought necessary. Your grandmother was so sure of her trustworthiness that she never interfered with her management. We never thought of remonstrating, although she mortified us sometimes by her treatment of our friends. She had no patience with too many visitors, and always presided at our tea, serving us with our cups of milk, and bread and treacle. We had some little friends who were very apt to run in just at the tea hour. Once, when they came steadily for a week, we saw clouds gathering on Tay's brow, and were not surprised when, one evening after she had helped us all, she turned to our friends and said: 'To-morrow, take yo' supper befo' you come. Maussa cyan't affo'd to support two families.' This broke up our tea parties.
"Tay had a husband as remarkable in his way as she was in hers. He was taller than she, slim, and very black; and was a very prosperous negro. He belonged to two maiden ladies, and lived a very independent life, free from care. He was a cooper by trade, and in his own shop plied his calling on his own account, only every quarter bringing his owners his set wages. And whenever illness or trouble of any kind overtook him, to his owners he came for care or protection. He finally concluded to buy his freedom, and asked your grandfather to become his guardian, as required by the law, if he couldaccomplish his purpose. He also asked him to be so kind as to ask his owners what they would take for him. Your grandfather saw the ladies, who fixed as moderate a price as they could; and when he told Daddy Sam the result of his negotiations, instead of being gratified, he was angry, and said: 'My mistresses has no idea how valuable I is. I t'ought dey would ask 'bout $300 mo'. Dey can't affo'd to part wid me fer less, an' I means to pay it.' The ladies were not obdurate, and no doubt had an increased idea of Daddy Sam's value.
"This worthy pair had no children; and Daddy Sam died not long before the war, leaving Tay quite a little sum of money. He had offered to buy her freedom for her, but she did not desire it. I remember that when he died she took off her turban when she went to church, and donned a gigantic crape veil. One day she came home very angry. She had met some sportsmen going hunting, who had begged her to go along with them as a ramrod, as they had lost theirs!
"When the war began she was very unhappy. There is no doubt that at that period there was a feeling of expectation and disaffection among the negroes; but Tay was of a thoroughly loyal nature, and had no sympathy with the negro character, and understood it entirely; and their meaner traits were revolting to her.
"One day in the early part of 1861, she came as usual after breakfast to consult your grandmotherabout the marketing that had been sent home. She had such a funny way of describing the pieces; she always involuntarily touched the part of her frame she was supposed to be designating, of mutton, or lamb. I was a light-hearted child then, and many a hearty laugh have I had at Tay's expense, as she would touch her leg, or shoulder, or even her head if a calf's head were in question. But to return to this day. She must have heard some talk among the negroes, for after she had got through her business, she lingered and said to her mistress, 'O Miss, I've had an awful dream,' Your grandmother spoke kindly to her, and asked her what it was. The faithful creature sat on the floor, and looking up into our faces she said:
"I dreamed we was all in confusion an' dere was a big crowd, an' Maussa was sick, an' you all looked very sad, an' you all was dressed common; but dere was heaps of niggers 'round, but dey was all a-runnin' 'round, an' a-kickin' up a noise; an' deir arms in deir kimbos, an' not one a-workin'; and you all called for some water, an' not one went to git it, but I ran for it, an' I said, 'O Miss, you has been a good frien' to me, an' sometimes a bottom rail is more use dan a same quality one; an' so long as Kitty is here dere will always be somethin' between you an' the groun.' And she burst into tears and left the room.
"Your grandmother said, 'She has had no dream. She wished to show us what is in her heart.'
"Ah, children, those were dreadful days, and when in December Port Royal fell, flight, confusion, and distress were the order of the day on the coast. By all this there was many a young life cut short, as truly as though a bullet had stilled it; and it was not only the men who laid down their lives, many a gentle girl was also a victim. Your grandmother sent my two sisters and me to relatives in the interior of the State. She remained in Charleston to look after our affairs, intending to go to a hospital as a nurse, if needed. We had been in the up-country but a few days when your Aunt Lucy, as lovely a young girl as the sun ever shone on, was seized with fever. Her illness was fatal, and she died before her mother could reach her.
"When we left your grandmother she had been obliged to go to our country place on Goose Creek, where she had remained alone—the colored driver and other negroes being the only people on the plantation. Tay had always lived in the city of Charleston, even when we were all on the plantation; and she always had the care of the city house. When the direful news of your Aunt Lucy's illness reached Charleston, Tay hastened up to the plantation to your grandmother, saying:
"'I wants you to let me come an' live here, for anybody c'n do what I does in town; but der is a lot of talk 'bout de whole low country will be took by de Yankees. An' de negroes will have to go inside, up country, an' make bread while deir masters isfightin'. Now, Miss, let me stay up here, an' keep an eye, an' if dere is anythin' I c'n do to keep things straight, I'm here; an' if we has to leave, I will go wid dem, an' keep dem all steady.'
"Your grandmother consented with, 'God bless you, Tay,' and at once left to go to your ill aunt. Tay remained on the plantation the whole winter and spring. Your grandmother could not return; but never had there been as much poultry and eggs produced, lambs saved, or butter made as was done under Tay's management. And the quantity of vegetables raised proved invaluable in those war times. And all was owing to the faithfulness of this devoted creature who remained to encourage the other negroes.
"When the summer of 1862 came your grandmother wrote her that she must leave the plantation, as she was unacclimated to that malarial country; but she begged to stay a little longer, as she knew she was of service, and was quite well. Then came the news that she was sick. She had sent to tell her young master, who was a naval officer on duty in Charleston harbor. He at once went to see her, and rebuked her for having remained so long in that unhealthy climate. He got her to promise to leave the next day. Finding that she had not arrived in the city, he obtained leave of absence and again went after her, but found her evidently near her end.
"'Ah! Massa Paul,' she said, 'I got up three times to go, as I promised you I would, an' de buggy was at de door, an' Martha here to go wid me, but Ifainted; an' as it was de three times I know it is de Lord's will, I'll never leave dis bed. I hope He will say. 'Kitty, you done what you could, an' been a faithful servant.' I never did want to be nothin' but a servant. Dere's plenty of dem in de Bible your Ma gave me; and if I c'n just jine dem I'm happy. An' now here's what I want you' Ma to have. It's Sam's little savin's. I always kep' dem by me; an' when I seen these war times, an' such curious-lookin' money buy so little, I'm glad I got it. I kep' it for a pinch; an' fixed it so nobody would suspicion it. But I thank de Lord you come to take it befor' I go.' And with great effort she brought from under her pillow a curious-looking, homespun undergarment, into which was literally quilted coins of gold and silver; a little fortune in Confederate money, besides various old trinkets and watches which Sam had invested in.
"'My earrin's is dere,' she said. 'I never wore dem since Miss Lucy died; dey looks too bright. Now give this to you' Ma with Kitty's duty. I wish she could ha' closed my eyes. I know she would ha' done it. But she an' de young ladies will be sorry, I know, when I'm gone.'
"And then with the flash of her usual animation she turned her eyes on her attendant, Martha, and said: Martha have my three trunks of clo'es; she must give them to Miss'. Dey will keep her house servants decent for a time; an' yo' Ma does hate a sloven, Martha knows. I will walk at her if she takes anythin' out befo' Miss comes. Lord help me!'
"A faithful soul gone home."