AN EXCITEMENT—SINKING OF THE CINCINNATI—SKY PARLOR HILL—MOVING PROSPECTS.
AN EXCITEMENT—SINKING OF THE CINCINNATI—SKY PARLOR HILL—MOVING PROSPECTS.
With the dawn came the old unrest and distrust, for the shells were again falling quite thickly around us; and I passed an hour or two in continual shrinkings and exclamations. At length our tormentors passed farther on, and I again felt relieved from anxiety.
At ten or twelve o’clock, we saw, in spite of the continual falling of the shells, gentlemen hurrying toward the river. Soon we heard the Confederate river batteries booming loudly, and then all was silent. What could it mean? I did not venture to look without; and so I sat waiting for some one to come to me. At last a friend appeared, who, in the most triumphant manner, told us that the Confederates had routed the Federal fleet. The gunboats had formed in line of battle, sailing down majestically, with theCincinnati—one of the finest boats in the river navy—leading the attack.
She came rapidly down around the point of the peninsula—the signal guns silent—when the battery, containing the Brooks gun, opened on her, as she came within range. The first shot cut down the flag; the second struck her side; and the third, the Brooks ball, with the steel wedge, cut into the iron plates near the water’s edge. She turned immediately, and steamed back up the river in a sinking condition. The remaining boats, also, changed their course and retired. The Cincinnati had scarcely turned the point, when she sank near the shore.
“Ah! yes!” said the Major, “had it not been for the fortunate sinking of the Cincinnati, you would have become conscious of a fearful warfare raging in the city. Had the boats gotten opposite and engaged our batteries, the firing would have been terrific.”
The Major also told us that many ladies had been so much interested in the expected engagement, that they had gone up on Sky Parlor Hill for a better view.
It has been said that the Federal guns havenever been sufficiently elevated to throw shell and shot so high as Sky Parlor Hill; yet, I should not like to risk my life for mere curiosity sake, when it was not possible to be of any service.
The Sky Parlor Hill is so called from its extreme height, being a portion of the bluff that stood where the principal commercial street now stands, the grading of the city having taken most of the elevation down. The hill now occupies about a square—the distance of two squares from the river—and is a prominent feature from all parts of the city. A rugged drive winds on one side up the steep ascent, and a long and dizzy flight of wooden steps ascend from the street on the opposite side.
It is surmounted by a little house that one could imagine surmounted “the bean stalk,” in the celebrated history of “Jack,” quaint and old, yet one that the earlier inhabitants would have called a “fine house.”
The view—and that is what the place is visited for—is good, both of the city and river, for some miles above. Crowds of people collect here on the occasion of any move being made in the direction of the river.
A large trunk was picked up after the sinking of the Cincinnati, belonging to a surgeon on board. It contained valuable surgical instruments that could not be procured in the Confederacy; a letter, also, written to the gentleman’s wife previous to the departure of the fleet from above, telling her that the letter would be mailed at Vicksburg, as there was no doubt whatever that the place would be taken when an attack was made from the river.
It was also said that Commodore Porter was aboard the Cincinnati. How the fact was ascertained, no one could tell.
Shortly after the sinking of the Cincinnati, I received a note from M——, saying that he was very much troubled in regard to our safety in the city—fearing that some time a mortar shell might fall on our cave, or that the constant jarring of the earth from the near explosion might cause it to seam and fall upon us. Therefore, he had decided to have a home made for me near the battle field, where he was stationed—one that would be entirely out of reach of the mortar shells. I was positively shocked at the idea—going to the battle field! where ball and shell fellwithout intermission. Was M—— in earnest? I could scarcely believe it.
A friend came soon after, and told me that I would find my home on the battle field far more pleasant and safe than the one in town—that we were protected from the fragments only in our cave—that on the battle field the missiles were of far less weight, and in falling far less dangerous.
We were to experience our last and nearest explosion of the never-to-be-forgotten mortar shells before we left. M—— had written to me to be ready on the following night. As the moon was not shining, the firing from the Federal batteries would cease at dark afterward we could go out without interruption. I was delighted at the prospect of a change in our mouldy lives, and looked forward to our ride—after dark though it was—with the utmost pleasure.
FALL OF A SHELL AT THE CORNER OF MY CAVE—MUSIC—CASUALTIES OF THE DAY.
FALL OF A SHELL AT THE CORNER OF MY CAVE—MUSIC—CASUALTIES OF THE DAY.
I was sitting near the entrance, about five o’clock, thinking of the pleasant change—oh, bless me!—that to-morrow would bring, when the bombardment commenced more furiously than usual, the shells falling thickly around us, causing vast columns of earth to fly upward, mingled with smoke. As usual, I was uncertain whether to remain within or run out. As the rocking and trembling of the earth was very distinctly felt, and the explosions alarmingly near, I stood within the mouth of the cave ready to make my escape, should one chance to fall above our domicile. In my anxiety I was startled by the shouts of the servants and a most fearful jar and rocking of the earth, followed by a deafening explosion, such as I had never heard before. The cave filled instantly with powdersmoke and dust. I stood with a tingling, prickling sensation in my head, hands, and feet, and with a confused brain. Yet alive!—was the first glad thought that came to me;—child, servants, all here, and saved!—from some great danger, I felt. I stepped out, to find a group of persons before my cave, looking anxiously for me; and lying all around, freshly torn, rose bushes, arbor-vitæ trees, large clods of earth, splinters, pieces of plank, wood, &c. A mortar shell had struck the corner of the cave, fortunately so near the brow of the hill, that it had gone obliquely into the earth, exploding as it went, breaking large masses from the side of the hill—tearing away the fence, the shrubbery and flowers—sweeping all, like an avalanche, down near the entrance of my good refuge.
I stood dismayed, and surveyed the havoc that had been made around me, while our little family under it all had been mercifully preserved. Though many of the neighboring servants had been standing near at the time, not one had been injured in the slightest degree; yet, pieces of plank, fragments of earth, and splinters had fallen in all directions. A portion of earth from theroof of my cave had been dislodged and fallen. Saving this, it remained intact.
That evening some friends sat with me: one took up my guitar and played some pretty little airs for us; yet, the noise of the shells threw a discord among the harmonies. To me it seemed like the crushing and bitter spirit of hate near the light and grace of happiness. How could we sing and laugh amid our suffering fellow beings—amid the shriek of death itself?
This, only breaking the daily monotony of our lives!—this thrilling knowledge of sudden and horrible death occurring near us, told to-night and forgotten in to-morrow’s renewal!—this sad news of a Vicksburg day! A little negro child, playing in the yard, had found a shell; in rolling and turning it, had innocently pounded the fuse; the terrible explosion followed, showing, as the white cloud of smoke floated away, the mangled remains of a life that to the mother’s heart had possessed all of beauty and joy.
A young girl, becoming weary in the confinement of the cave, hastily ran to the house in the interval that elapsed between the slowly falling shells. On returning, an explosion sounded nearher—one wild scream, and she ran into her mother’s presence, sinking like a wounded dove, the life blood flowing over the light summer dress in crimson ripples from a death-wound in her side, caused by the shell fragment.
A fragment had also struck and broken the arm of a little boy playing near the mouth of his mother’s cave. This was one day’s account.
I told of my little girl’s great distress when the shells fell thickly near us—how she ran to me breathless, hiding her head in my dress without a word; then cautiously looking out, with her anxious face questioning, would say: “Oh! mamma, was it a mortar tell?” Poor children, that their little hearts should suffer and quail amid these daily horrors of war!
The next evening, about four o’clock, M——’s dear face appeared. He told us that he had heard of all the danger through which we had passed, and was extremely anxious to have us out of reach of the mortar shells, and near him; he also thought we would find our new home on the battle field far superior to this; he wished us to go out as soon as possible. As at this hour in the evening, for the last week, the Federal guns had been quietuntil almost sundown, he urged me to be ready in the shortest time possible; so I hastened our arrangements, and we soon were in the ambulance, driving with great speed toward the rifle pits.
O the beautiful sunlight and the fresh evening air! How glowing and delightful it all seemed after my incarceration under the earth! I turned to look again and again at the setting sun and the brilliant crimson glow that suffused the atmosphere. All seemed glad and radiant: the sky—the flowers and trees along our drive—the cool and fragrant breeze—all, save now and then the sullen boom of the mortar, as it slowly cast its death-dealing shell over the life we were leaving behind us.
Were it not for the poor souls still within, I could have clapped my hands in a glad, defiant jubilee as I heard the reports, for I thought I was leaving my greatest fear of our old enemy in the desolate cave of which I had taken my last contemptuous glance; yet, the fear returned forcibly to me afterward.
RIDE TO THE FORTIFICATIONS—NUMBER OF CAVES ALONG THE ROAD—APPEARANCE OF THE NEW HOME—CHANGE OF MISSILES.
RIDE TO THE FORTIFICATIONS—NUMBER OF CAVES ALONG THE ROAD—APPEARANCE OF THE NEW HOME—CHANGE OF MISSILES.
The road we were travelling was graded out through the hills; and on every side we could see, thickly strewn among the earthy cliffs, the never-to-be-lost sight of caves—large caves and little caves—some cut out substantially, roomy, and comfortable, with braces and props throughout—many only large enough for one man to take refuge in, standing;—again, at a low place in the earth was a seat for a passer-by in case of danger.
Driving on rapidly, we reached the suburbs of the city, where the road became shady and pleasant—still with caves at every large road excavation, reminding one very much of the numberless holes that swallows make in summer; for both the mortar and Parrott shells disputed this district; and a cave, front in whatever direction it might, was not secure from fragments. M——impatiently urged on the driver, fearing that when the firing recommenced we would still be on the road. Suddenly, a turn of the drive brought in sight two large forts on the hills above us; and passing down a ravine near one of these, the ambulance stopped. Here we saw two or three of the little shell and bomb proof-houses in the earth, covered with logs and turf. We were hastily taken out and started for our home, when I heard a cutting of the air—the most expressive term I can use for that peculiar sound—above my head; and the balls dropped thickly around me, bringing leaves and small twigs from the trees with them.
I felt a sudden rush to my heart; but the soldiers were camped near, and many stood cautiously watching the effect of the sudden fall of metal around me. I would not for the world have shown fear; so, braced by my pride, I walked with a firm and steady pace, notwithstanding the treacherous suggestions of my heart that beat a loud “Run, run.” M——, fearing every moment that I might fall by his side, hurried me anxiously along. Within a short distance was the adjutant’s office, where we took refuge until thefiring became less heavy. Here we found friends, and sat chatting some time.
The “office” was a square excavation made in the side of the hill, covered over with logs and earth, seemingly quite cool and comfortable. I had been confined for so long a time in a narrow space of earth, that daylight, green trees, and ample room became a new pleasure to me. At sundown there was a cessation in the rapid fall of balls and shells; and we again started for our home. I was taken up a little footpath that led from the ravine up under a careless, graceful arch of wild grape vines, whose swinging branchlets were drawn aside; and a low, long room, cut into the hillside and shaded by the growth of forest trees around, was presented to my view as our future home. What a pleasant place, after the close little cave in the city!—large enough for two rooms—the back and sides solid walls of earth, the sloping of the hill bringing down the wall to about four feet at the entrance, leaving the spaces above, between the wall and roof, for light; the side, looking out on the road through the ravine, was entirely open, yet shaded from view by the clustering vines over the pathway.
I took possession delightedly. A blanket, hung across the centre, made us two good-sized rooms: the front room, with a piece of carpet laid down to protect us from the dampness of the floor, and two or three chairs, formed our little parlor; and the back room, quiet and retired, the bedroom. Over the top of the earth, or our house, held up by huge forked props, were the trunks of small trees laid closely across together; over that, brush, limbs, and leaves, and covering all this the thickness of two or three feet of earth beaten down compactly, and thought perfectly safe from Minié balls and Parrott or shrapnell shells.
We had our tent fly drawn over the front, making a very pleasant veranda; for a narrow terrace had been made along the entrance, from which the hill sloped abruptly down to the road in the ravine opposite the dwelling; in the rear the hill rose steeply above us. All was quiet to-night, as it usually is, I was told, when the moon is not brightly shining.
The Federal commanders fear that the Confederates will strive to improve their defences by the moonlight, which is certainly done, firing or not, for the fortifications need constant strengthening,being frequently badly torn by the Parrott shells.
The next morning at four o’clock, I was awakened by a perfect tumult in the air: the explosion of shrapnell and the rattling of shrapnell balls around us reminded me that my dangers and cares were not yet over. How rapidly and thickly the shells and Minié balls fell—Parrott of various sizes—canister and solid shot, until I was almost deafened by the noise and explosions! I lay and thought of the poor soldiers down below in the ravine, with only their tents over their heads; and it seemed in this storm of missiles that all must be killed. How strange so few casualties occur during these projectile storms!
Our little home stood the test nobly. We were in the first line of hills back of the heights that were fortified; and, of course, we felt the full force of the very energetic firing that was constantly kept up; and being so near, many that passed over the first line of hills would fall directly around us.
MORNING—CHARGE OF GENERAL BURBRIDGE—HORRORS OF WAR—AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
MORNING—CHARGE OF GENERAL BURBRIDGE—HORRORS OF WAR—AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
How dewy and pleasant the morning! I stood looking out from the little terrace, breathing the fresh air, and learning the new surroundings, so far as my eye went, for it was not safe to venture out from the covering of the cave—the ravine fronting me, shady, dark, and cool—the sun just rising over the hilltop and lighting the upper limbs of the large trees. Up the ravine, the Headquarters, horses were tethered, lazily rising and shaking their coats after the night’s rest on the ground—shaking off their drowsiness to begin the breakfast of mulberry leaves. Amidst the constant falling of rifle balls, the birds sang as sweetly, and flew as gayly from tree to tree, as if there were peace and plenty in the land. Plenty there certainly was not in Vicksburg, as any one wouldhave said who had been invited to our little breakfast that morning: bacon side and bread were all; and I had become so accustomed to them, that I obeyed the calls to breakfast with reluctance; eating, most practically, to sustain life, without the slightest relish for the food I was compelled to masticate and swallow.
Yet, all received their trials with cheerfulness. The gentlemen, who breakfasted with us that morning, laughed and made merry over the rations, and told me of the mule meat that was soon to be served up to us.
They were speaking of a charge that had been made, most gallantly, by General Burbridge and the Federal troops of his command, on the Confederate intrenchments: they had rushed over the breastworks and into the rifle pits, driving out the Southern soldiers. The whole Confederate camp near the spot arose in a furious excitement, officers and men alike throwing hand grenades down upon the intruders, until they were forced to retire, after holding the place some little time. I was told that General Burbridge had, laughingly, remarked to a Confederate officer, during the truce, that, staying in the intrenchments inthe hot sun, and having hand grenades thrown at him in profusion, was as warm a work as he wished to undertake in one day.
After the Federal troops left the intrenchments, a hole was found in the loose earth of the breastworks that caused much amusement among the Confederate soldiers—a large hole where one of the Federals had literally burrowed his way out from the pits. “I reckon he’s some kin to a mole,” sagely commented one of the soldiers.
A flag of truce had been sent by the Federal commander, asking leave to bury the killed and remove the wounded that had been left on the field, in one of the charges that had been made on the Confederate lines.
The request had been refused by General Pemberton. Afterward the effluvia from the dead bodies became so intolerable, that he was obliged in his turn to ask a truce, and request the Federal officers to bury their dead. I was distressed to hear of a young Federal lieutenant who had been severely wounded and left on the field by his comrades. He had lived in this condition from Saturday until Monday, lying in the burning sun without water or food; and the men on both sidescould witness the agony of the life thus prolonged, without the power to assist him in any way. I was glad, indeed, when I heard the poor man had expired on Monday morning. Another soldier left on the field, badly wounded in the leg, had begged most piteously for water; and lying near the Confederate intrenchments, his cries were all directed to the Confederate soldiers. The firing was heaviest where he lay; and it would have been at the risk of a life to have gone to him; yet, a Confederate soldier asked and obtained leave to carry water to him, and stood and fanned him in the midst of the firing, while he eagerly drank from the heroic soldier’s canteen.
The officer who related this little incident had not yet obtained the name of the noble man. Truly, “the bravest are the tenderest; the loving are the daring.” How generous—how truly brave the man who would thus dare death! who would, at the risk of life, perform a truly Christian deed! Oh! were all men but true followers of the Prince of Peace, how short would be this warfare! Did only individual Christians strive to do their duty in every respect, this great suffering would not be upon us. There are enough in the world whoworship Him who died that all might be happy—enough to stand before the heads of the Christian nation and plead in His name that there be mercy for these dying and bleeding thousands—that these brothers, sons, and husbands may not lie torn, swollen, and writhing in the hot sun, with burning eyes and parched tongues, far, far from those who are powerless to succor them in this fearful time; and, with these pleadings, would ascend prayers to Him who rewards the peace-makers as the children of God—prayers from many an aching, tear-seared heart; and the fierce bitterness, strife, and hatred that move men so, would pale before this blessing. Should they fail, and the wrong go on, then they have done their duty; and they will find mercy, not where the error of man’s judgment withholds it, but before Him to whom the least of these are of incalculable value.
One morning George made an important discovery—a newly made stump of sassafras, very near the cave, with large roots extending in every direction, affording us an inexhaustible vein of tea for future use. We had been drinking water with our meals previous to this disclosure; coffeeand tea had long since been among the things that were, in the army. We, however, were more fortunate than many of the officers, having access to an excellent cistern near us; while many of our friends used muddy water, or river water, which, being conveyed so great a distance, became extremely warm and disagreeable.
AN ACCEPTABLE PRESENT—HUNGER—HALF RATIONS—IN THE RIFLE PITS.
AN ACCEPTABLE PRESENT—HUNGER—HALF RATIONS—IN THE RIFLE PITS.
A servant brought me one day a present from an officer, that was acceptable indeed: two large, yellow, ripe, June apples, sealed in a large envelope. They were as much of a variety to me as pineapples would have been.
On another occasion, a gentleman sent me four large slices of ham, having been fortunate enough to procure a small piece himself. Now and then gentlemen in calling would bring to my little girl and myself some little article that it was impossible to procure; and only those who have undergone like privations can understand how truly grateful we felt for these little kindnesses. One day a friend brought us some fruit that had been presented to him. While we were conversing,my little hunger-besieged two-year-old daughter quietly secured it, and, sitting on the floor, ate with avidity. When she had finished nearly all of it, she turned around, with a bright and well-satisfied face, to me, saying, “Mamma, it’s so dood!”—the first intimation that I had that my portion had disappeared. Dear child; I trembled for her in the greater trials I believed in store for us. Fruits and vegetables were not to be procured at any price. Every one felt the foreboding of a more serious trouble, the great fear of starvation that stared all in the face causing those who possessed any article in the shape of edibles to retain it for that period to which all looked forward with anxiety—when we would come to actual want.
Already the men in the rifle pits were on half rations—flour or meal enough to furnish bread equivalent in quantity to two biscuits in two days: many of them ate it all at once, and the next day fasted, preferring, as they said, to have one good meal.
So they sat cramped up all day in the pits—their rations cooked in the valley and brought to them—scarcely daring to change their positionsand stand erect, for the Federal sharpshooters were watching for the heads; and to rise above the breastworks was almost certain death. Frequently, a Parrott shell would penetrate the intrenchments, and, exploding, cause frightful wounds, and death most frequently. “Ah!” said M——, one day, “it is to the noble men in the rifle pits that Vicksburg will owe aught of honor she may gain in this siege. I revere them, as I see them undergoing every privation with courage and patience, anxious only for the high reputation of the city.”
They amused themselves, while lying in the pits, by cutting out little trinkets from the wood of the parapet and the Minié balls that fell around them. Major Fry, from Texas, excelled in skill and ready invention, I think: he sent me one day an arm chair that he had cut from a Minié ball—the most minute affair of the kind I ever saw, yet perfectly symmetrical. At another time, he sent me a diminutive plough made from the parapet wood, with traces of lead, and a lead point made from a Minié ball.
I had often remarked how cheerfully the soldiers bore the hardships of the siege. I saw them oftenpassing with their little sacks containing scanty rations, whistling and chatting pleasantly, as around them thickly flew the balls and shells.
Poor men, yet so badly used, and undergoing so many privations!
A RAINY MORNING—A WATERSPOUT—DISMAL EXPERIENCE—BRIGHTER PROSPECTS—AN UNFORTUNATE SLEEPER.
A RAINY MORNING—A WATERSPOUT—DISMAL EXPERIENCE—BRIGHTER PROSPECTS—AN UNFORTUNATE SLEEPER.
The clouds had been darkening around us all day, and at night we had the prospect of a storm. M—— sent George out with a spade to slope the earth about the roof of our home, and widen the water ditch around it; yet, it was not until the next morning that the rain began falling. By daylight I heard M—— giving orders rapidly about packing the earth firmly, deepening the ditch, and watching the rear of the cave.
I opened my eyes to see without the darkness and gloom of a rainy day—to feel the dampness of the mist upon my face, and to behold M—— standing at the entrance, with the movable articles near him piled out of reach of the driving rain, giving orders to George in regard to our doubly besieged fortress. I lay and listened tothe dropping and plashing with a dreamy pleasure at first; but hearing M—— start out to see if all were right, I sprang up, thinking I might assist in keeping out the water. It was a very fortunate move; for I had scarcely begun dressing, when the earth gave away at the head of my bed, and a perfect spout of muddy water burst through the embankment and fell in the centre of the resting place I had so lately left. To run and call M—— to stop the water in the back part of the cave, and, in the greatest haste, to assist Cinth in removing every article that was at all dry, and let the water have free course through, was the work of an instant; yet, in the short time that the water had flowed through the cave, we presented a miserably deluged appearance: trunks were piled on trunks—lines hanging from log to log in the roof, filled with the dripping carpet, blankets, sheets, and miscellaneous articles, dripping with a dreary patter on the floor—chairs turned up together, and packed out of the way—our home-like arrangements all in disorder. And now that the water had been turned that flowed through the cave, I and the servant sat, disconsolately, with our skirts drawn around, and our feet onlittle blocks of wood to keep them out of the mud, with rueful faces, regarding the sweeping of the water and plashing of rain without.
The water, having overflowed the sides of the ditch, making a new channel, and pouring down at the entrance, had completely washed away our little terrace, leaving a huge and yawning gulf immediately in front of us. I was thus contemplating, sorrowfully, the ruins of our little home, when M—— came down, bringing cheer to us again in the expression of his bright, strong, and calm face; the water was flowing in little streams from his hat down to his coat, flowing over his coat, making little pools on the floor as he stood. He declared that the storm was nearly over, and that we would have some breakfast in spite of it. Taking his hat from his head and shaking the water from it, and from his hair, he bade George take his spade and cut a fireplace near the entrance, bring up his camp kettles, which were full of water, kindle a large fire, and have the breakfast on. He congratulated me upon the perfect safety of our residence, that the water was running around it in regular Venetian style, and that for the present we were perfectly waterproof.
Indeed, our home was in a precarious situation on a rainy day, for we were planted in the bed of the torrent of water that drained from the hill above; yet, M—— assured me that now we had nothing to fear, for with George he had packed the earth perfectly firm and secure. He laughed heartily at my narrow escape; for I declared that I should never have felt in a pleasant humor again if that rush of muddy water had fallen on me.
Soon the fire blazed cheerfully up, and George commenced the preparation of our simple breakfast—M—— going out to attend to some reports. I had always looked forward to the prospect of rain with pleasure, as procuring us some respite from the incessant noise of explosions, and from the whistling and falling of balls. The fury of the storm had scarcely abated, when the tumult and din of the Federal batteries and musketry recommenced; and far from the rain extinguishing the fuse of the shell, there seemed to be an unusually large number falling this morning. I began to feel thoroughly thawed and revived when George set the breakfast on the table and M—— came in; so we sat down quite gayly, in spite of the continued falling of the rain.
The pleasant fire was doing its work, and the earth was rapidly hardening around us.
M—— told me of a colonel of one of the regiments stationed at the foot of one of the fortified hills, who unfortunately slept too long, and the turbulent rush of the waters down the hill broke through all barriers, enveloping him completely in mud, water, sand, and sediment. He sprang from the ground in a towering rage, and could scarcely be persuaded that he was not the victim of a practical joke. So soundly had he slept, that he was entirely oblivious of the storm, and could scarcely believe his rude awakening the work of the elements. M—— told me also, with a grave face, of the poor soldiers he had seen in the rifle pits that morning, standing in water—some with little pieces of carpet drawn around them; others with nothing but their thin clothes, which were saturated; and there they would lie through the day, with only the meal of yesterday to sustain them.
WEARY—THE COURIERS FROM GENERAL JOHNSTON—DANGEROUS PASTURAGE—MULE MEAT—LOCAL SONGS—MISSED BY A MINIÉ BALL.
WEARY—THE COURIERS FROM GENERAL JOHNSTON—DANGEROUS PASTURAGE—MULE MEAT—LOCAL SONGS—MISSED BY A MINIÉ BALL.
I am told by my friends, who call, that I am looking worn and pale, and frequently asked if I am not weary of this cave life. I parry the question as well as possible, for I do not like to admit it for M——’s sake; yet, Iamtired and weary—ah! so weary! I never was made to exist under ground; and when I am obliged to, what wonder that I vegetate, like other unfortunate plants—grow wan, spindling, and white! Yet, I must reason with myself: I had chosen this life of suffering with one I love; and what suffering, after all, have I experienced?—privations in the way of good and wholesome food, not half what the poor people around us are experiencing.
A fear of those that can kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do! I willnot be unnerved—I have no right to complain. Wherever He hath placed me, there will I be found in His strength; and hereafter I will be brave and steadfast.
To reason with myself in this time of danger was one of the chief employments of my cave life. Time passes on, and all say the siege cannot last much longer; and still we are here—and still the deafening noise of shells—and the variety of missiles that are thrown fall, scattering death in all directions.
About this time, the town was aroused by the arrival of a courier from General Johnston, who brought private despatches to General Pemberton, the nature of which did not transpire; yet, from the very silence of General Pemberton, the officers augured the worst.
The courier brought many letters to the inhabitants from friends without. His manner of entering the city was singular: Taking a skiff in the Yazoo, he proceeded to its confluence with the Mississippi, where he tied the little boat, entered the woods, and awaited the night. At dark he took off his clothing, placed his despatches securely within them, bound the package firmly toa plank, and, going into the river, he sustained his head above the water by holding to the plank, and, in this manner, floated in the darkness through the fleet, and on two miles down the river to Vicksburg, where his arrival was hailed as an event of great importance, in the still life of the city.
The hill opposite our cave might be called “death’s point” from the number of animals that had been killed in eating the grass on the sides and summit. In all directions I can see the turf turned up, from the shells that have gone ploughing into the earth. Horses or mules that are tempted to mount the hill by the promise of grass that grows profusely there, invariably come limping down wounded, to die at the base, or are brought down dead from the summit.
A certain number of mules are killed each day by the commissaries, and are issued to the men, all of whom prefer the fresh meat, though it be of mule, to the bacon and salt rations that they have eaten for so long a time without change. There have already been some cases of scurvy: the soldiers have a horror of the disease; therefore, I suppose, the mule meat is all the morewelcome. Indeed, I petitioned M—— to have some served on our table. He said: “No; wait a little longer.” He did not like to see me eating mule until I was obliged to; that he trusted Providence would send us some change shortly.
That very afternoon I was looking out on the opposite hill, where the shells were falling frequently. I noticed a very large, fine cow slowly grazing on the side, and ascending higher and higher as she moved.
It was a matter of wonder with me where she came from, for beef cattle of all kinds had disappeared from Vicksburg. The cow was in fine condition; and I thought: Poor creature, you are not prudent in eating such dangerous grass. A short time before tea, M—— came up laughing, and said: “Providence has indeed sent you fresh meat, so that you will not have to depend upon mule. A fine cow has been killed by a shell on the opposite hill. The General has taken the meat, and a large share has been sent to you.”
I regretted the fate of the animal that I had so lately seen vigorous with life; yet now, “since fate was so unkind,” I gladly received my portion, thinking of the old saw, “it’s an ill wind,”&c. George and some of the boys in the camp cut the meat in strips; and I was able to send some soup meat to the courier that rode continually among the shower of balls, and to a poor humped-back soldier, whose strength was giving way from the privation he had undergone: the remainder was rubbed with saltpetre, strung on canes laid across frames, with a slow fire underneath; and the heat of the sun and the fire combined jerked it nicely for future use.
I laughed heartily at the appearance of the cave a day or two after the process. The logs of the roof were hung with festoons of jerked meat, that swung gracefully and constantly above us; and walking around under it, I felt, quite like an Indian, I suppose, after a successful chase, that starvation for a while was far in the background.
It was astonishing how the young officers kept up their spirits, frequently singing quartets and glees amid the pattering of Minié balls; and I often heard gay peals of laughter from headquarters, as the officers that had spent the day, and perhaps the night, previous in the rifle pits, would collect to make out reports. This evening a gentleman visited us, and, among other songs,sang words to the air of the “Mocking Bird,” which I will write:
“’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,Of Vicksburg, of Vicksburg—’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,When the Parrott shells were whistling through the airListen to the Parrott shells—Listen to the Parrott shells:The Parrott shells are whistling through the air.“Oh! well will we remember—Remember—rememberTough mule meat, JunesansNovember,And the Minié balls that whistled through the air.Listen to the Minié balls—Listen to the Minié balls:The Minié balls are singing in the air.”
Songs of every description are composed in honor of narrow escapes, unlucky incidents, brave deeds, &c.; songs—humorous, pathetic, and tragic—are sung in every manner of voice. Sometimes hoarse, with surprising loudness and depth; again, with richly modulated tones and much soft volume and melody—all sing, according to differently accustomed tastes.
I heard, one night, a soldier down the ravine singing one of the weird, melodious hymns that negroes often sing; and, amid the firing and crashing of projectiles, it floated up to me in soft,musical undertones that were fascinating in the extreme: the wailing of the earthly unrest—the longing for the glorious home that the warm imagery pictures to be glorious in golden lights and silvery radiance—of song and brilliant happiness! The voice was full and triumphant. Then the rapid change, in low and mournful cadence, to the earth, the clay, the mire—to dearth, to suffering, to sin! “I wonder, Lord, will I ever get to heaven—to the New Jerusalem?” came with the ending of every verse. I bowed my face in my hands. Yes! heaven was so far off! Yet—“he that cometh to me, I will in nowise cast out”—our grasp is firm, but our eyes are blind. Some day, after the earthly longings are stilled, we will know the exceeding glory.
Though singing songs of every description, yet how often we are made to feel that any moment the summons may come!
I was sewing, one day, near one side of the cave, where the bank slopes and lights up the room like a window. Near this opening I was sitting, when I suddenly remembered some little article I wished in another part of the room. Crossing to procure it, I was returning, when aMinié ball came whizzing through the opening, passed my chair, and fell beyond it. Had I been still sitting, I should have stopped it. Conceive how speedily I took the chair into another part of the room, and sat in it!
A WOUNDED HORSE—SHRAPNELL SHELLS—CHARGE ON THE INTRENCHMENTS—FEARFUL FIRING.
A WOUNDED HORSE—SHRAPNELL SHELLS—CHARGE ON THE INTRENCHMENTS—FEARFUL FIRING.
One evening I noticed one of the horses tied in the ravine, acting very strangely—writhing and struggling as if in pain. One of the soldiers went to him and found that he was very badly wounded in the flank by a Minié ball. The poor creature’s agony was dreadful: he would reach his head up as far as possible into the tree to which he was tied, and cling with his mouth, while his neck and body quivered with the pain. Every motion, instead of being violent, as most horses would have been when wounded, had a stately grace of eloquent suffering that is indescribable. How I wanted to go to him and pat and soothe him! The halter was taken off, and he was turned free. Going to a tree, he leaned his body against it, and moaned, with half closed eyes, shivering frequentlythroughout his huge body, as if the pain were too great to bear.
Then, turning his head entirely around, he would gaze at the group of soldiers that stood pityingly near, as if he was looking for human sympathy. The master refused to have him shot, hoping he would recover; but it must have been evident that this day was the last of his strong, proud life: the noble black was doomed. After the gentle faithfulness of his service, it was cruel to prolong his suffering: after the simple meals of mulberry leaves, with scarcely sustenance enough to maintain life, why should this pain and agony be permitted to rack his already weakened body? These truths were set aside, and the master looked with pity; yet, it seemed, a selfish pity.
Becoming restless with the pain, the poor brute staggered blindly on. And now my eyes fill with tears; for he has fallen, with a weary moan, between the banks of the little rivulet in the ravine, his head thrown on the sod, and the bright, intelligent eye turned still upon the men who have been his comrades in many a battle, standing still near him.
Poor fellow!—those low and frequent moansand trembling limbs tell them that death has stricken you already—that you are far beyond human sympathy. In the midst of all the falling shells, cannot one reach him, giving him peace and death? I see an axe handed to one of the bystanders, and turn suddenly away from the scene. The quick, soft stroke! I know it must be over. Again I look, and the glossy, black body is being taken out from our sight, to be replaced by new sufferings, and to be forgotten in new incidents.
There is one missile, were I a soldier, that would totally put me to rout—and that is a shrapnell shell. Only those who have heard several coming at a time, exploding near, and scattering hundreds of small balls around them, can tell how fearful the noise they make—a wild scream—a clattering and whizzing sound that never fails in striking terror to my heart! It seemed sometimes that as many as fifty balls fell immediately around our door. I could have sent out at any time, near the entrance of our cave, and had a bucketful of balls from shrapnell and the Minié rifle, picked up in the shortest possible time.
One old, gray-headed, cheerful-hearted soldier,whom I had talked with often, was passing through the ravine for water, immediately opposite our cave. A Minié ball struck him in the lower part of the leg; he coolly stooped down, tied his handkerchief around it, and passed on. So constantly fell projectiles of all descriptions, that I became almost indifferent to them. Only the hideous noise of numerous shrapnell could startle me now. Generally at four o’clock in the morning the shrapnell were thrown more furiously than at any other time through the day. At about seven, the Minié balls began falling, accompanied by Parrott, canister, solid shot, and shrapnell shells; and through every minute in the day this constant play of artillery and musketry was kept up from the Federal lines. General Pemberton had ordered the Confederate batteries to remain silent, unless particular orders were given to fire, or an assault was made on the works.
One afternoon I remember so vividly! One of the surgeons of the staff was chatting with M——, when I heard a rushing and peculiar sound, as if some one were rapidly cutting through the air, near and around me, with a sword.
Both the doctor and M—— sprang to their feet, as the sound grew more confused, seeming as if the sudden rush of a volume of water was pouring down the hill. I saw M—— turn to the doctor and say: “They’re coming!” I dared not ask any questions; yet, I at first supposed the intrenchments were taken. M——, without a word, drew on another coat and threw the linen one he had worn to me, with a laugh. I suppose I must have looked rather wild; for I could not tell or imagine the meaning of the confusing and singular noise around us. Taking his sword, M—— started immediately. I feared every moment that he would fall, for the balls fell like hail. I turned to the doctor, questioning: “Are they coming over the hill?” He laughed, and said:
“Oh! no; they are only making a charge on the intrenchments; and the rushing in the air you hear is the numerous small balls flying over us.”
The strange, bewildering sound lasted for some time. The doctor soon took his leave, saying that the wounded would be brought in for him to attend. I sat for half an hour hearing the constant rushing and surging around me, and the quick dropping of balls; the ground trembled from thefrequent discharge of the Confederate cannon. What was likely to be the result, I could not tell; for the ravine below, lately so full of animation, seemed to be totally deserted, save now and then the rapid gallop of a courier through the shower of balls along the road. Soon there came a gradual cessation, quieting more and more down to the old interval of a minute between the discharges; soon M—— came home, reporting one or two wounded and one killed. It seems miraculous to me that, amid such a shower of balls, so few persons should be injured.