Class -1 Book Copyright})^. COPYRIGHT DEPOSm LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. ? I ^ t86J-1862-J863-t864-J865, MARY A. H. GAY. THE THIRD EDITION. {ENLARGED.) ATLANTA, GA: CHARLES P. BYRD. 1897. oS. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the j^ear Ls97, By Mary A. H. Gay, [n the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. CONTENTS. PAGE. Introductory Remarks ' 9 Chapter I.— The Magnolia Cadets 17 Chapter II.— The War Record of DeKalb County 22 Chapter III.— Labors of Love— Musical— Decatur 8(5 Chapter IV. — Labors of Love — Knitting- and Sewing, and Writing Letters to '' Our Soldiers " '. 42 Chapter V.— The Third Maryland Artillery— Some Old Songs 48 Chapter VI.— A Daring and Unique Chase— The Capture and Re-capture of the Railroad Engine, "The General" 52 Chapter VII.— Coming Home from Camp Chase— The Faithful Servant's Gift— A Glimpse of Confederate Braves 58 Chapter VIII.— Some Social Features— Morgan's Men Rendezvous at Decatur— Waddell's Artillery— Visits from the Texans— Surgeon Haynie and His Song 72 Chapter IX.— Thomie's Second Home Coming— He Leaves for the Front— His Christian Labors in Camp— He Describes the Battle of New Hope Church— The Great Revival in Johnston 's Armj' 77 Chapter X.— A Visit to Dalton— The Fidelity of an Old- time Slave 94 Chapter XL— A Perilous Trust 104 Chapter XII.— A Scene in an Atlanta Confederate Hos- pital 108 Chapter XIII. — Concealing Confederate Clothing— Valu- ables Carried to Atlanta— Toby Taken 111 113 Chapter XIV.— The Advance Guard of the Yankee Army — I am Ordered Out — A Noble Federal 124 Chapter XV.— The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The Death of Toby 135 Chapter XVI.— Everett's Desertion 146 Chapter XVII.— A Visit to Confederate Lines— A Nar- row Escape— My Return— The Fall of Atlanta 156 Chapter XVIII.— The Ten Days' Armistice— Going Out with the Confederate Clothes— Scenes at Atlanta, and at Lovejoy's Station— The Visit to Granbury's Brigade— The Last Interview with Thomie 168 Chapter XIX. — The Hcturn Home — From Jonesboro via Augusta — Scenes and Incidents by the Way— The Lonely Journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur 193 Chapter XX. — On tlie Verge of Starvation — A Worn-out Army Horse is Found — Uncle Macl^ Makes a Wagon — I Make a Unique Trip — Starvation is Warded Off- Dangers and Scenes by the Way 207 Chapter XXI. — A Second Trip for Supplies — Gathering "Fodder" from a Cane-brake, as a Preliminary— The Lonely Journey — Changing Yankee's Name — I Meet the Federal Raiders 226 Chapter XXII.— News from the Absent Brother— He Marches into Tennessee with Hood— Extracts from His Letters written on the Way— Two Ears of Parched Corn— The Night Burial of a Soldier 248 Chapter XXIII. —An Incident of the War— Related to the Writer by Hon. Roger Q. Mills, of Texas 251 Chapter XXIV.— Picking up Minie Balls Around At- lanta — Exchanging Them for Bread 255 Chapter XXV. — The Decatur Women's Struggle for Bread — Sweet Singing in Hard Places — Pleasant Visi- tors — I Make a Trip to Alabama — The News of My Brother's Death 2G0 Chapter XXVI.— My Mother's Death — Rev. John S. Wilson Performs the Funeral Service 274 Chapter XXVII.— A Reminiscence 281 Chapter XXVIII.— How the Decatur Woman Kept Up the Sabbath School 289 Chapter XXIX.— Postal Affairs— The Postmaster, Hiram J. Williams — A Life that was a Reality, but Reads like a Romance 298 Chapter XXX.— The Tragic Death of Sallie Durham— A Sketch of the Durham Family 302 Chapter XXXL— The Death of Melville Clark 310 Chapter XXXII.— The Morton Family— Incidents Thrill- ing and Affecting 318 Chapter XXXIIL— Hon. Joseph E. Brown's Pikes and Guns 319 Chapter XXXIV.— The Pursuit and Capture of the Andrew's Raiders 325 Confederate Love Song 349 Conclusion 851 Appendix 854 INTRODUCTION. I am asked to write a few words of introduction to these reminiscences of a lady who, in the pleasant afternoon of a life devoted to deeds of mercy and char- ity, turns fondl}^ and sympathetically to the past. But there is nothing- to be said. What word of mine could add to the interest that inheres in this unpretentious record of a troubled and bloody period ? The chroni- cle speaks for itself, especially to those who remember something- of those wonderful days of war. It has the charm and the distinction of absolute verity, a quality for which we may look in vain in more elabor- ate and ambitious publications. Here indeed, is one of the sources from which history must g-et its sup- plies, and it is informed with a simplicity w^hich history can never hope to attain. We have here reproduced in these records, with a faithfulness that is amazing-, the spirit of those dark days that are no more. Tragedy shakes hands with what seems to be trivial, and the commonplaces of every-day life seem to move forward with the g'ray battalions that went forth to war. It is a g-entle, a faithful and a tender hand that guides the pen — a soul nerved to sacrifice that tells the tale. For the rest, let the records speak for them- selves. JoKL Chandlek Hakris. PREFACE. B}^ way of preface to "Life in Dixie During the War," I scarcely know what to say. I have long* felt that it was the duty of the South to bequeath to pos- terit}^ the traditions of that period ; for if we do it not ourselves they will be swallowed up in oblivion. Entertaining' this opinion, I have essayed the task of an individual effort, and hope that others may follow my example. No woman who has seen what I have seen, and felt what I have felt, would be apt to write with less asperity ; and yet, now that we have come back to the United States, and mean to stay in it, let the provoca- tion to depart be what it may, I would not put into practice an iota of the war-time feeling-. In thus expressing- myself, I am sure I represent every Chris- tian in my own beautiful Southland. There was one for whom these sketches would have had a special interest. An inspiring- motive for writing- them was that they would be read by my nephew, Thomas H. Stokes, of Atlanta, the only child of the brother so often mentioned. But, ere he had had more than a g-limpse of them, he was called away by an Inscrutable Providence, in his pure and beau- tiful young- manhood, as w^e trust to a Land of Peace more in keeping- with his noble, true, and tender heart, than earth with its sin and strife. "Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God." Mary A. H. Gay. Decatur, Georg-ia. MTRODUCTORY REMARKS. THK TOCSIN OF WAR. Th' tocsin of war has resounded from Mason and D*ixon's line to the Gulf of Mexico, from the snow- i^rested billows of the Atlantic to the tranquil waves of the Pacific. War ! War ! War ! is the battle cry of a people, ■ho, long- suffering and patient, but now, goaded to lesperation and thoroughly exasperated, are deter- mined, at all hazards, to protect the rights for which their forefathers fought, bled and died ; and which their own Thomas Jeiferson embodied in an instrument of writing which, for beauty of diction and wisdom of thought, will go sounding down the corridors of time, so long as time itself shall last — unequaled, unpara- lelled ; and which was adopted without a dissenting voice by the ablest convocation of men ever assembled in national councils as their declaration of human rights and liberties. Thus, under auspices favorable to the happy and speedy development of a new and glorious country, commenced the government of the freest and happiest people on earth, under the administration of George Washington — an administration which caught the eye of the world and called forth its admiration ; and which the most censorious never had the temerity to attack ; an administration which secured for the country the alluring title, " The land of the free and 10 JlSWm/j.,'^ inr'^ the home of the brave." Auii ime went abroad in stor}' and in song-, and every u. -n on earth soug-ht its blessing-s and advantages, ai. ii ,•:-' to be a mig-hty country-. Coeval with the settlement of this beauti' ^nti- nent bj the white man, there came, or rather, ; < ^re was brought, a race of people which needed the fos- tering- care as well as the strong- arm of slavery^ to kindle the latent spark of intellectual fire which hiad smoldered for centuries, in, as President Cleveland'' would say, " innocuous desuetude." This race of people came not as pioneers in th^ building- up of this g-reat nation, but as a menial racv\ sold into bondag-e by their own kith and kin, and not to be endowed with elective franchise nor representa- tion in its councils. It was held in bondag-e alike in Massachusetts and in South Carolina. Under the auspices of slavery, it became a powerful factor in the building- up of the staple industries of the country — the Southern portion of it directly, the Northern por- tion indirectly, and it received in return more than any other people in bondag-e has ever received — as a usual thing-, g-ood wholesome food, comfortable homes and raiment, and tender treatment in sickness. When they failed to receive these benefits, their masters were improvident and careless alike of the comfort of their own wives and children, and they, too, showed hard usag-e and neg-lect. This is not said by way of apolog-y for any treatment received at the hands of Southern slaveholders by this vassal race. I repeat that no people held in bondag-e ever received so many benefits. INTBODVGTION. 11 Slaven^ as all other institutions, had its evils, and those evils were far g-reater to the slaveholder than to the slaves. Climatic and other considerations ren- dered the system of slavery unprofitable in the North- ern States of this g-reat and g-rowing- republic, and the men at the helm of their respective g-overnments ag-i- tated the subject of emancipation. Having- given themselves time to bring- the g-reater number of their slaves South and sell them, they nom- inally freed the others by leg-islative enactment ; and by this g-reat and mag-nanimous action, there were so few left that to this day, as attested by Northern tourists, a "darkey," or a "colored person," is an ob- ject of curiosity and g-reat interest. The country, North and South, was too prosper- ous. The ag-itators could stand it no long-er. Discord and strife took the place of harmony and peace in the halls of cong-ress, and in the senate chamber of the United States. Men who could in no other way ac- quire prominence, became conspicuous as champions of an "oppressed and down-trodden race," and were swift to slander the white people of the South. Our slaves were taug-ht that murder, rapine, arson, and every species of wickedness known in the catalog-ue of crime which, in any way, could weaken, yea, destroy the South, was service most acceptable. The country was in the clutches of an org-anized mob, determined to precipitate it into the jaws of dis- solution. B}' way of confirming- this statement the following- resolutions are reproduced. These resolutions were adopted by a large and rep- resentative body of men at Worcester, Massachusetts, 12 IXTRODUCriON. soon after Fremont's defeat in 1856, and long before Governor Gist of South Carolina, and other Southern leaders, began to take measures for a peaceable sepa- ration, rather than to be forcibly' expelled : ^^ Resolved, That the meeting- of a state disunion convention, attended by men of various parties and affinities, gives occasion for a new statement of prin- ciples and a new platform of action. ' ' Resolved, That the conflict between this princi pie of liberty and this fact of slavery has been the whole history of the nation for fifty years, while the only re- sult of this conflict has thus far been to strengthen both parties, and prepare the way of a yet more des- perate struggle. ' ' Resolved, That in this emergency we can expect little or nothing from the South itself, because it, too, is sinking deeper into barbarism every year. Nor from a supreme court which is always ready to invent new securities for slaveholders. Nor from a president elected almost solely by Southern votes. Nor from a senate w^hich is permanently controlled by the slave power. Nor from a house of representatives which, in spite of our agitation, will be more proslavery than the present one, though the present one has at length granted all which slavery asked. Nor from political action as now conducted. For the Republican leaders and press freely admitted, in public and private, that the election of Fremont was, politically speaking, the last hope of freedom, and even could the North cast a united vote in 1860, the South has before it four years of annexation previous to that time. ''Resolved, That the fundamental difference be- INTBODUCTION. 13 tween mere political ag-itation and the action we pro- pose is this, it requires the acquiescence of the slave power, and the other only its opposite. ''''Resolved^ That the necessity for disunion is writ- ten in the whole existing- character and condition of the two sections of the country — in social org-aniza- tions, education, habits and laws — in the dang-ers of our white citizens of Kansas and of our colored ones in Boston, in the wounds of Charles Sumner and the laurels of his assailant — and no g"overnment on earth was ever strong- enough to hold tog-ether such oppos- ing^ forces. ^^ Resolved, That this movement does not seek merely disunion, but the more perfect union of the free States by the expulsion of the slave States from the confederation in which they have ever been an element of discord, dang-er and disg-race. ''Resolved^ That it is not probable that the ulti- mate severance of the union will be an action of de- liberation or discussion, but that a long- period of deliberation and discussion must precede it, and this we meet to beg-in. ''^Resolved, That henceforward, instead of regard- ing- it as an objection to any system of policy that will lead to the separation of the States, we will proclaim that to be the hig-hest of all recommendations and the g-rateful proof of statesmanship ; and we will support politically and otherwise, such men and measures as appear to tend most to this result. ''''Resolved, That by the repeated confession of Northern and Southern statesmen, the existence of the union is the chief g-uarantee of slavery, and theit 14 INTBODUCTION. the despots of the whole world and the slaves of the whole world have everything- to hope from its de- struction and the rise of a free Northern republic. ''''Resolved, That the sooner the separation takes place the more peaceable it will be; but that peace or war is a mere secondary consideration in view of our present perils. Slavery must be conquered ; peaceably if we can, forcibly if we must." To keep before the people of the United States, North and South, the hostility of the then controling- spirit of the North towards the South, the above resolutions cannot be repeated too often. Nor were they an isolated example of party fanaticism. The stock and staple of the entire republican press was slander of the Southern people; and like noxious weeds it well nig-h rooted out all that was elevating- to man, and ennobling- to woman. The pulpit became a rostrum from which bitter invective of the South flowed in Niagaran torrents ; and the beautiful fields of Poesy were made to yield an abundant crop of briar and bramble and deadly Upas. The burden of every song-, of every prayer, of every sermon, was the " poor down-trodden slave" of the South. What wonder that seed thus constantly and malig-nantly sown sprang- up and bore a crop of discontent which nothing short of "separation" from the enemy could appease. We, too, felt that under the existing circumstances peace or war was a mere secondary consideration in view of our perils in the union, and took measures to withdraw from a sectional union of States that had ceased to respect State sovereignty outside of its own borders. INTRODUCTION. 15 The insults and taunts and the encroachments of fifty years had welded the people of the South into a compact part}^ org-anization, animated for all substan- tial purposes by one sentiment and one g-lorious prin- ciple of patriotism, and never was there a movement in the annals of nations that had a more unanimous support. And when the tocsin of war resounded from one end of the country- to the other, and reverberated over hills and through valleys, the sons and sires in the beatiful Sunny South, from the hig-li born and cultured g-entleman in whose veins flowed the blue blood of the cavalier, to the humblest tiller of the soil and the shepherd on the mountain sides, buckled on the paraphernalia of warfare and reported for duty. To arms ! To arms ! was the patriotic appeal of a people who had no other redress ; and I repeat with emphasis that never a people responded with more chivalrous alacrity or more earnestness of purpose. I was too well versed in the politics of the countr}-, too familiar with the underground working's of the enemy, to hesitate. I, too, enlisted in the strug-gle, and in the glorious efforts to establish "home rule and domestic felicity," not literall}^ in the ranks of the soldier, but in the g-reat army of women who were willing- to toil and to suffer, and to die, if need be, for the cause of the South. I had but one brother, a darling- young half brother, Thomas J. Stokes, who had g-one to Texas to practice his chosen profession. With all the intensity of my ardent nature I loved this brother, and would have died that he might live ; and yet with all the perils involved, it was with a thrill of pride that I read his 16 INTROVUGTION. long- letter breathing-, pulsing-, with the patriotism illsutrated by our ancestry in the revolutionary strug-- .g-le for American Independence. And now this noble brother and myself, thoug-h widel}" separated, enlisted in aid of the same g-reat cause ; the perpetuity of con- stitutional rig-hts. He to serve on the battle-field, and I to care for the sick and wounded soldiers, or to labor in any capacity that would give greatest encourage- ment to our cause. Life in Dixie During the War* CHAPTER I. THE MAGNOLIA CADETvS. Notwithstanding- the restful sig-nification of "Ala- bama," the State bearing- that name had passed the ordinance of secession, and mingled her voice with those of other States which had previously taken steps in that direction. Then followed a call for a convention, having- in view the election of a President of a new Republic to take its place among- the nations of the earth, and to be known throughout the world as the Southern Confederacy. As an intensely interested spectator I was at that convention ; and will remember, to my djang day, that grand spectacle. Yea, that was a g-rand and solemn occasion — that of issuing- a mandate " Let there be another nation, and to all intents and purposes there was another nation." In the course of human events it requires centuries to evolve such moral courag-e and sublimity of thoug-ht and action ; and the proceeding's of that day will stand out in bold relief as the acme of patriotic greatness. Ah ! that scene at the capitol of the State of Ala- bama, when Jefferson Davis, the chosen leader of the 18 LIFE IN DIXIE Southern people, took the oath of office and pledg^ed und34ng- fidelity to the best interests of his own sunny land. On that momentous occasion not a word was uttered denunciatory of the States we were seeking- to leave in their fancied superiority, and the g-reat concourse of people there assembled was too familiar with the history of the times to require recapitulation of the causes of the alienation which led by rapid ascent to the summit of discontent, and determination to no long"er submit to the domination of an enemy. That scene being- enacted as a preliminary, a call was made for Alabama's quota of volunteers to defend the principles enunciated and the interests involved. The Mag-nolia Cadets, under the leadership of Cap- tain N. H. R.* Dawson, of Selma, were among^ the first to respond. I accompanied my cousins of Alabama to see this company of noble, handsome young- men mustered into the military service of their countr}^ It was a beautiful sig-ht ! Wealthy, cultured young- g-entlemen voluntarily turning- their backs upon the luxuries and endearments of affluent homes, and ac- cepting- in lieu the privations and hardships of war- fare ; thereby illustrating- to the world that the conflict of arms consequent upon the secession was not to be " a rich man's war and a poor man's fig-ht." I saw them as they stood in line to receive the ele- g-ant silken banner, bearing the stars and bars of a new nation, made and presented to them by Miss Ella Todd and her sister, Mrs. Dr. White, of Lexing-ton, Kentucky, who were introduced to the audience by Captain Dawson as the sisters of Mrs. Abraham DURING THE WAU. 10 Lincoln, the wife of the president of the United States. I was thus made aware that Mrs. Lincoln and heJ illustrious husband were Southerners. I have since been in the small, mud-chinked log" cabin in Eliza- bethtown, Kentucky, in which he was born, and in which his infancy and little boyhood were domiciled. Mrs. White had married an Alabamian, and as his wife became a citizen of his State. Her sister. Miss Todd, was visiting- her at the enactment of the scene described, and under like circumstances, also became a citizen of Alabama. She married the valiant g-entleman who introduced her to the public on that memorable occasion. I have soug-ht and obtained from Mrs. Mary Dawson Jordan, of Chattanooga, Tennessee, a daughter of Captain Jordan, a complete record of the names of the officers and members of this patriotic company of Alabama's noble sons — native and adopted — which I subjoin as an item of history that will be read with interest by all who revere the memory of the Lost Cause and its noble defenders. Muster Roll of the ''Magnolia Cadets.'' N. H. R. Dawson, Captain. (Enrolled for active service at Selma, Ala., on the 26th day of April, 1861. Mustered into service on the 7th day of May, 1861, at Lynchburg, Va.) Commanded by Col. Ben Alston of the Fourth Alabama Regiment of Volunteers. 1. N. H. R. Dawson, Captain. 1. Shortbridge, Jr., Geo. D., 1st Lieutenant. 2. McCraw, S. Newton, 2nd Lieutenant. 20 LIFE IN DIXIE 3. Wilson, John R. 3rd Lieutenant. 1. Waddell, Bd. R., 1st Sergeant. 2. Price, Alfred C, 2nd Sergeant. 3. Daniel, LucianA., 3rd Sergeant. 4. Goldsby, Boykin, 4tli Sergeant. 1. Bell, Bush W., 1st Corporal. 2. Garrett, Robert E., 2nd Corporal. 3. Brown, James G., 3rd Corporal. 4. Cohen, Lewis, 4th Corporal. 1. Melton, George F., Musician. 2. Marshall, Jacob, Musician. Privates. 1. Adkins, Agrippa 20. Densler, John K. 2. Adams, William S. 21. Donegay, James G. 3. Avery, William C. 22. Friday, Hilliard J. 4. Byrd, William G. 23. Friday, James L. 5. Beattie, Thomas K. 24. Friday, John C. 6. Briggs, Charles H. 25. Ford, Joseph H. 7. Bohannon, Robert B. 26. Grice, Henry F. 8. Baker, Eli W. 27. Haden, James G. 9. Bradley, Hugh C. 28. Harrill, Thornton R. 10. Cook, Thomas M. 29. Hannon, Wm. H., Sr. 11. Cook, James W. 30. Hannon, Wm. H., Jr. 12. Cook, Benson. 31. Hooks, William A. 13. Caughtry, Joseph R. 32. Hodge, William L. 14. Cole, George W. 33. Jones, William. 15. Cleveland, George W. 34. Jordan, James M. 16. Clevaland, Pulaski. 35. Jackson, Felix W. 17. Cunningham, Frank M. 36. King, William R. 18. Coursey, William W. 37. Kennedy, Arch. 19. Daniel, John R. 38. Kennedy, George D. DURING THE WAR. 21 39. Lamson, Frank R. 62. 40. Lane, William B. 63. 41. Lowry, Uriah. 64. 42. Lowry, William A. 65. 43. Littleton, Thomas B. 66. 44. Luske, John M. 67. 45. Lamar, John H. 68. 46. Mather, Thomas S. 69. 47. Martin, James B. 70. 48. May, SydM. 7L 49. May, William V. 72. 50. Melton, Thomas J. 73. 5L Miller, Stephen J. 74. 52. Mimms, Georg-e A. 75. 53. Moody, William R. 76. 54. Mosely, Andrew B. 77. 55. McNeal, Georg-e S. 78. 56. McKerning-, John W. 79. 57. Overton, John B. 80. 58. Overton, Thomas W. 81. 59. O'Neal, William. 82. 60. Paisley, Hug-h S. 83. 61. Pryor, John W. Copied from the original Muster Roll of the Magnolia Cadets, owned by Henry R. Dawson, son of N. H. R. Dawson Pryor, Robert O. Peeples, Frank W. Raiford, William C. Reinhardt, Georg-e L. Robbins, John L. Rucker, Lindsay. Rucker, Henry. Shiner, David H. Stokes, William C. Stone, John W. Stewett, Mayor D. Turner, Daniel M. Thomas, Lewis. Tarver, Ben J. Taylor, William E. Terry, Thomas B. Thompson, John S. Thompson, William E. Ursory, Edward G. Vaug-hn, Turner P. Wrenn, Theodore J. Whallon, Daniel. 22 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER 11. THK WAR KKCORD OF DEKAI.B COUNTY. DeKalb county, Georg-ia, of which Decatur is the county site, was among the first to enroll troops for Confederate service. The first volunteers from Deca- tur were James L. George, Hardy Randall, L. J. Winn and Beattie Wilson, who went with the Atlanta Greys the last of May, 1861. The first company from DeKalb county was that of Captain John W. Fowler. It was called the DeKalb Light Infantry, and was mustered into service in At- lanta, as part of the 7th Georgia Volunteers, and left for Virginia on the 1st of June, 1861. Those going from DeKalb county in this compan}^ were : First Lieutenant, John J. Powell ; Second Lieutenant, John M. Hawkins ; Third Lieutenant, James L. Wilson ; First Sergeant, M. L. Brown ; Second Sergeant, D. C. Morgan ; Third Sergeant, D. E. Jackson ; Fourth Sergeant, John W. Fowler, jr. ; Cor- porals— H. H. Norman, R. F. Davis, C. W. L. Powell ; Privates — W. W. Bradbury (afterwards captain), K. M. Chamberlain, W. W. Morgan, W. L. Herron, P. H. Pate, C. E. McCulloch, James W. McCulloch, L. C. Powell, H. G. Woodall, J. S. Woodall, A. W. Mashburn,.V. A. Wilson, W. J. Mason, J. V. Austin, W. M. Austin, John Eads, E. A. Davis, Dr. A. S. Ma- son, John W. Norman, E. L. Morton, Henry Gentry, DVBING THE WAR. 23 W. M. Cochran, J. B. Cochran, James Hunter (pro- moted captain), W. W. Brimm, William Carroll, C. W. McAllister, J. O. McAllister, and many others from the county, making- it a full company. The second company from DeKalb was the Steph- ens Rifles, captain, L. J. Glenn. They went into Cobb's Leg-ion about Aug-ust, 1861. Dr. Liddell, Frank Herron, Norman Adams, John McCulloch, John J. McKoy, and some others, went from Decatur in this company. The third company was the Murphey Guards, cap- tain, John Y. Flowers. They came from the upper part of the county, near Doraville. This company was named in memory of Hon. Charles Murphey, of DeKalb county, a prominent lawyer and member of Cong-ress, but then recently deceased. The company had been uniformed by the people of the county, a larg-e sharg-e being- contributed by Mr. and Mrs. Mil- ton A. Candler, and Mr. and Mrs. Ezekiel Mason. Mrs. Candler, whose maiden name was Kliza Mur- phey, the only child of Charles Murphey, g-ave the banner, upon which was inscribed, "The God of Jacob is with us." The Fourth Company was The Bartow Aveng-ers, Captain William Wrig-ht, from the lower part of the county about South River. The Fifth Company, Cap- tain Rankin, was from Stone Mountain. These three last mentioned companies went into the 38th Georg-ia Reg-iment, in September, 1861, and belong-ed to the Virg-inia Arm}^ The Sixth Compan}-, Captain E. L. Morton's, entered service the last of Aug-ust, 1861, in the 36th Georg-ia Reg-iment, and was with the 24 LIFE IN DIXIE. Western Army under Johnston. The Seventh Com- pany, the Fowler Guards, Captain Clay, went into the 42nd Georgia Reg-iment in the early part of 1B62, and was also in the Western Army. There were several companies, mostly composed of DeKalb County men, that were made up and went from the camp of instruction near Decatur. Moses L. Brown was Captain of one, and L. D. Belisle of another. Besides the companies already named, all of which went into the infantry, there were many soldiers from DeKalb that went into the Cavalry and Artillery service of the regular army. In the year 1863, when Georgia was threatened by Rosecrans coming into the State on its northern bor- der, special troops were raised for its defence. Major General Howell Cobb commanded the division ; General Henr}^ R. Jackson one of the brigades. In Jackson's Brigade, in the 10th Georgia Regiment State Guards (Col. John J. Glenn and Lieutenant-Col- onel J. N. Glenn), we find Company A of Cavalry troops. Of this company Milton A. Candler had com- mand. These troops served through 1863 and 1864. In April, 1863, Paul P. Winn, now a Presbyterian minister, then a mere youth, went into the army in the 45th Georgia Regiment, commanded by Col. Thomas J. Simmons. Other Decatur boys went into the service from other sections where the war found them located. Among these were Dr. James J. Winn, who enlisted at Clayton, Alabama, with the Barker Greys, and was in the battle of Bull Run. After a year or two he received a surgeon's commission, being the youngest surgeon in the army. DUBIKG THE WAB. 25 John C. Kirkpatrick, just eig'hteen, went into the service from Aug-usta with the Og-lethorpe Infantry. With him were his cousin, William Dabney (now a Presbyterian minister in Virginia), and his friend, Frank Stone. This was in 1862, and John remained in the service until the close of the war, havino;- been in severe battles (for he was in Cleburne's Division), including- that of Jonesboro. In this eng-ag-ement were other Decatur bo^^s in other commands. Mr. John B. Swanton, but seventeen years old, was in that battle, and says that by his side stood, when mortally wounded, Franklin Williams, the brother of Mr. Hiram J. Williams. Says Mr. Swanton: " He was so near me I could have touched him with my hand." Three sons of Mrs. Martha Morg-an, and cousins of DeWitt Morg-an, were all in the service, Henry, Dan- iel, and Joseph Morg-an. Jesse Chewning- and Samuel Mann were in the r)4th Georg-ia. Josiah J. Willard, the only son of Mr. Levi Wil- lard, while a sprig-htly, active youth, was near- sig-hted. He had a position in the commissary depart- ment at Camp Randolph, near Decatur, and went with it to Macon, July 11th, 1864, and remained there until the place surrendered after the fall of Richmond. He, also, is mentioned in other sketches. There were also several companies of old men and boys who went into the State service when the last call for troops was made b}^ the Confederate g-overn- ment. Before the DeKalb soldiers g-o to meet the fortunes of war, let us recall some incidents that preceded their departure. On the northern side of the court-house 26 LIFE IK DIXIE square there stood a larg-e building-, the residence of Mr. Ezekiel Mason. Here, day after day, a band of devoted women met to make the uniforms for the DeKalb Lig^ht Infantry. These uniforms had been cut by a tailor, but they were to be made by women's hands. Among- the leading and directing- spirits in this work were Mrs. Jonathan B. Wilson, Mrs. Jane Morg-an, Mrs. Ezekiel Mason, Mrs. Levi Willard, Miss Anna Davis, Mrs. James McCulloch, and Miss Lou Fowler. The most of this sewing- was done by hand. To the DeKalb Light Infantry, the day before its departure, a beautiful silken banner was given. The ladies of the village furnished the material. The ad- dress of presentation was made by Miss Mollie G. Brown. In September, of that same year, my sister was invited to present a banner to Captain William Wright's Company. Her modest little address was responded to in behalf of the companj- b}^ Rev. Mr. Mashburn, of the Methodist Church. In March, 1862, there was another banner presented from the piazza of "the Mason Corner"^ — this time to the Fowler Guards, by Miss Georgia Hoyle. This banner was made by the fair hands of Miss Anna K. Davis. By this time the spirit of independence of the outside world had begun to show itself in the Southern-made grey jeans of the soldiers, and in the homespun dress of Miss Hoyle. This banner, so skillfully made by Miss Anna Davis, had a circle of white stars upon a field of blue, and the usual bars of red and white — two broad red bars with a white one between. The banner of this pattern was known as the "stars and bars," and was DURING THE WATl. 27 the first kind used by the Confederate States. In May, 1863, the Confederate Cong-ress adopted a National Flag-, which had a crimson field with white stars in a blue-grounded diag-onal cross, the remainder of the flag- being- white. But, when falling- limp around the staff, and only the white showing, it could easily be mistaken for a flag of truce ; therefore in March, 1865, the final change was made by putting a red bar across the end of the flag. But what of the fate of these gallant young men, going forth so full of hope and courage, with tender and loving farewells lingering in their hearts? Soon, ah ! so soon, some of them fell upon the crimson fields of Virginia. James L. George ("Jim- mie," as his friends lovingly called him) was killed in the first battle of Manassas. "Billy" Morgan died soon after the battle, and was buried with military honors in a private cemetery near Manassas. Two years after, his brother, De Witt Morgan, worn out in the siege of Vicksburg, was buried on an island in Mobile Bay. At the second battle of Manassas, James W. McCulloch and James L. Davis were both killed. Later on W. J. Mason, William Car- roll, John M. Eads, H. H. Norman, Billy Wilson, and Norman Adams, were numbered among the slain. Among the wounded were Henry Gentry, Mose Brown, John McCulloch, W. W. Brimm, Dave Chand- ler, Riley Lawhorn, and Bill Herring. A volume could easily be written concerning the bravery and the sufferings of the DeKalb county troops ; but I must forbear. Concerning Warren Morton, of the 36th Georgia Reo-iment, who went 28 LIFE IN DIXIE into the service at the ag^e of fifteen, and suffered so severely, I will refer my readers to a sketch in the latter part of this book. Of William M. Durham, so young-, so g-allant, who enlisted in Company K., 42nd Georg-ia Reg"iment, much of interest will be found in another chapter. Among- the Decatur members of Cobb's Leg-ion was Mr. John J. McKoy, who went out in the Stephens Rifles when not more than nineteen years old. He was in the battle of Yorktown, Seven Pines, and in the Seven Da^^s Fig-ht around Richmond. Owing- to illness, and to business arising- from the attainment of his majorit^^ he came home in 1863, and, hiring- a substitute when the conscript law was passed, went to work at the Passport Of&ce in At- lanta. In this same year he was married to Miss Laura Williams of Decatur. Having- raised Company A., for the 64th Georg-ia Reg-iment, Mr. McKoy was with it when it was sent to Florida, and was in the battle of Olustee or Ocean Pond, in February 1864, where General Alfred H. Colquitt won the title of "The Hero of Olustee." Mr. McKoy remembers to have seen on that eventful day. Col. Georg-e W. Scott, then of Florida, but now of Decatur. At the battle of Olustee, Col. Scott was in command of a reg-iment of Cavalry. The banner of the reg-iment is now in possession of his daughter, Mrs. Thomas Cooper. The 64th Georg-ia was then sent to Virg-inia in General Wrig-ht's brig-ade. A few days after "The Mine Explosion," or undermining- of the Confederate works, an engag-ement occurred at Deep Bottom. Here, General Girardy, of Aug-usta, was killed, and DUIiING THE WAli. 29 se\^eral hundred of the Confederates were captured, among- the number being- Mr. McKoy. This was in July, 1864. He was sent to Fort Delaware, where he remained in prison until the close of the war. Here he spent a whole winter without a fire, and was sub- ject to all that Fort Delaware meant. To escape the horrors of that prison, many of the two thousand offi- cers there confined, took the oath not to fight ag-ainst the United States. But Mr. McKoy and thirty-four others remained in prision, firm and loyal, even after the surrender, believing- and hoping, up to July, 1865, that the war would be carried on west of the Missis- sippi river. The soldiers who went to Virginia knew from their own experience the scenes of Manassas, Malvern Hill, Fort Harrison, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg and the Wilderness. Yet some of them were left to be surrendered by Lee at Appomatox Court House. The companies which were in the Western Army were in the leading battles of that Division, and were equall}^ brave and abiding in theii devotion to the cause. For many of the foregoing facts concerning the troops from DeKalb, I am greatly indebted to Mr. Robert F. Davis, who went with DeKalb's first com- pany, and who, after braving the perils of the war, came off unscathed. He still lives near Decatur, and is an elder in the Presbyterian Church. I greatly regret my inability, even if I had the space, to give the names of all the soldiers who went from DeKalb, and to tell of their deeds of bravery and endurance. It has not been intentional that many are 30 LIFE IN DIXIE wholly omitted. It has been my privileg-e to see but one muster-roll of our county troops — that of Com- pany K, 38th Georg-ia Reg-iment, kindly furnished by Mr. F. L. Hudg-ins, of Clarkston, a brave soldier who was in command of the Company when Lee sur- rendered. This muster-roll shows that out of the 118 nam^s, forty-six were killed (or died), and seventeen were wounded ; that its first Captain, William Wrig-ht, resig-ned, and that three other Captains by promotion were all killed, /. e., Gustin E. Goodwin, Georg-e W. Stubbs and R. H. Fletcher. Indeed, in nearly every instance, promotion in this Company meant death up- on the battle field. And can we wonder that both the commissioned and the noncommissioned fell, when some of the principal battles in which they were en- g-ag-ed bore such names as Cold Harbor, Malvern Hill, Second Manassas, Sharpsburg-, Fredericksburg-, Chan- cellorsville, Winchester, Gettysburg-, The Wilderness, Spottsylvania Courthouse, Mechanicsville, Fisher's Hill, Cedar Creek, Louise Courthouse and High Bridg-e ? In memory of the dead, for the sake of the living- and for the descendants of all mentioned therein, I copy the muster-roll of this company : Com f any /l"., 38th Georo^ia Regiment: Captain William Wright— resig-ned July, 1862. 1st Lieutenant Julius J. Gober— Died July 26th, 1862. 2nd Lieutenant Gustin E. Goodwin — Promoted cap- tain ; killed August 28th, 1862. 3rd Lieutenant George W. Stubbs— Promoted captain; killed July 24th, 1864. DVIUNG THE WAR. 31 1st Serg-eant John S. Johnston — Killed June 27th, 1862. 2nd Serg-eant W. R. Henry — Promoted to 1st Lieuten- ant ; lost a leg- December 13tli, 1862. 3rd Serg-eant J. A. Maddox — Killed at Wilderness, May 5th, 1864. 4th Sergeant F. L. Hudg-ins — Promoted 1st Sergeant; wounded at Malvern Hill ; shot through the body at Gettysburg. 5th Sergeant E. H. C. Morris — Promoted 3rd Lieu- tenant ; killed at Second Manassas, August, 1862. 1st Corporal P. M. Gassaway — Killed at Second Ma- nassas, August, 1862. 2nd Corporal J. M. Walker — Died in camp. 3rd Corporal W. A. Ward — Died in camp. 4th Corporal James L. Anderson — Wounded at Ma- nassas and Spottsylvania court house. John H. Akers — Killed at Second Manassas, 1862. A. W. Allman— Killed at Cedar Creek, October 19th, 1864. John Adams — Died in camp. Knos Adams — Isaac W. Awtry — W. A. Awtry— H. V. Bayne — Disabled by gunshot wound. Still living. Allen Brown — Lewis Brown — Killis Brown — William M. Brooks— H. M, Burdett— 32 LIFE IN DIXIE J. S. Burdett— John S. Boyd- James E. Ball— Killed at Gett^^sburg", July, 1863. W. H. Brisendine — L. R. Bailey — Transferred to Cobb's Leg-ion. John K. J. Collier- James Collier— Died at Charlottesville, Va., 1862. Z. J. Cowan — J. J. Cowan — G. G. Cook- James E. Chandler— Killed at Sharpsburg-, Md., September 17th, 1862. W. B. Chandler— Died in camp, May 31st, 1863. John W. Chandler— Killed at Second Manassas, Au g-ust, 1862. W. A. Childress — A physician in Atlanta. J. H. Childers— J. M. Dowis — Killed at Coal Harbor, June, 27th, 1862. W. H. Ellis- John Eunis — R. H. Fletcher — Promoted Captain ; killed in 1865. A. M. Gentry— Died at Savannah in 1862. W. F. Goodwin — Promoted 3rd Lieutenant ; killed at Gettysburg in 1863. C. H. Goodwin— Killed at Coal Harbor. Joseph Grog-an — J. H. Grog-an — J. D. Grog-an — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, Sep- tember 17th, 1862. Gideon Grog-an — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, September 17th, 1862. DUBING THE WAR. 33 James H. Gasawa}'— Disabled b}' gunshot. William Gasawa}- — Disabled by g-unshot. John Gasawaj — Discharg-ed. W. L. Goss— P. L. Guess — Transferred to the 9th Georgia Artillery Battalion. H. h. Head— J. L. Henry— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1802. W. B. Heldebrand — Died recently. H. H. Hornbuckle— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. Joshua Hammond— Killed at Sharpsburg, September 17th, 1862. R. F. Jones— Killed at Coal Harbor. J. W. Jones — Disabled by g-unshot. C. S. Jones — Killed in Richmond. R. D. P. Jones — Disabled by gunshot. J. M. Jones — J. H. Jones — Disabled by g-unshot. James Jones — John F. Kelley — John H. Kelley— James Kelley — W. J. Little — Disabled by g-unshot. Georg-e Lee — Died in camp. A. J. Lee — Discharg-ed, Wiley Mang-hon — J. R.^ Mitchell— Killed December 13th, 1862, at Fred- ericksburg-. W. G. Mitchell— Disabled by g-unshot. K. J. Mitchell— 34 LIFE IN DIXIE W. R. Mag-uire — Disabled bj gunshot. W. A. Morg-an — B. S. McClaiti — Died in camp. John W. Nash— Killed December 13th, 1862, at Fred- ericksburg". David N. Fair— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. W. B. Owen— J. J. Pruett — Discharg-ed. John W. Phillips— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. John B. Thompson — Will Thompson — W. M. Richardson — Disabled at Second Manassas. J. S. Richardson— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. D. D. Richardson — Died at Hanover Junction, 1862. A. W. Stowers — W. A. Smith— J. M. Summey — Shot throug-h at Coal Harbor. S. J. Summey — Killed at Winchester, Va., June 13th, 1863. James Toney — Musician. C. W. Toney— Musician. M. J. Tweedle — Wounded at Winchester, Va., Sep- tember 19th, 1864. S. J. Thomas— R. L. Vaug-hn — Died at Savannah, Ga. J. S. Vaug-hn — Wounded eig-ht times at Coal Harbor. W. T. Vaug-hn — Had both hands blown off. J. C. Wig-g-ins — Promoted Second Lieutenant ; killed in June, 1864. ^ J. M. Wig-g-ins — DURING THE WAR. 35 R. W. Wig-g-ins — Killed at Petersburg-, Va., March 27tli, 1865. K. W. Wiggins — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, September 17th, 1862. G. W. Wiggins— M. O. Wiggins— Disabled at Cedar Creek, October 19th, 1864. G. W. Wade— Musician. E. D. Wade— F. M. Wade— B. L. Wilson^Killed at Marie's Heig-hts, May 4th, 1863. W. A. Wright— W. R. Wood- Amos Wheeler — Killed at Spottsjdvania, May 12th, 1864. J. H. Wilson— Killed at Gettysburg, July 1st, 1863. Jordan Wilson — Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. 3(i LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTKR III. LABOR'S OF LOVE. Musical — Decatur. To a woman who lives and moves and has her being- in the past, an invocation to time to "turn backward in its flight," would seem surperfluous. The scenes of other years being- ever present, it would also seem that time, as a loving- father, would linger fondly around her with panaceas for decay, mental and phys- ical ; that her heart would never g-row old, and her person never lose the attractions of youth ; but, in the economy of Him who doeth all thing-s well, such is not the decree reg-arding aug-ht that is mortal. And when the ravag-es incident to one's career have de- stroyed personal charm, and divested the mind of sparkling- gem, the soul yearns for the protection of childhood and the companionship of youth. Scenes of the past, though dyed with " the blood of martyrs," are ever passing- in kaleidoscopic beauty before the mind's eye, and tones too sweet for mortal ear are ever thrilling- the heart with strange, sweet, expectant pleasure. This train of reflection, only far more elab- orate, seizes for its guiding star, on this occasion, a scene which at the time of its enactment was indelibly impressed upon my mind, and left living, glowing tints, illuming my pathway through subsequent life ; a scene in which lovely girlhood, arrayed in pure DUEIXG THE WAR. 37 white robes, lent a helping- hand in the important work of suppljdng* our soldiers with comforts, all the more appreciated because of the source from which emanating-. With closed eyes, I see it now and listen to its enchanting- melody. To render it more realistic than could be done by any description of mine, I sub- join a copy of the " Prog-ramme," the orig-inal of which I have preserved : GRAND MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT ! RELIEF FUND FOR OUR SOLDIERS, THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1862, AT THE COURTHOUSE. By the ladies of Decatur, Georg-ia, assisted by Wil- liam H. Barnes, Colonel Thomas F. Lowe, Professor Hanlon, W. A. Haynes, R. O. Haynes, Dr. Geutebruck and Dr. Warmouth, of Atlanta. PROGRAMME. Part I. 1. Opening- Chorus — Company. 2. Piano Duet — "March from Norma" — Miss Geor- g-ia Hoyle and Miss Missouri Stokes. 3. Solo— "Roy Neil"— Mrs. Robert Alston. 4. Quartette — Atlanta Amateurs. 5. "Tell Me, Ye Wing-ed Winds "—Company. 6. " Our Way Across the Sea" — Miss G. Hoyle and Professor Hanlon. 38 LIFE IX DIXIE 7. March — Piano Duet — Miss Laura Williams and Miss Fredonia Hojle. 8. Solo — Professor Hanlon. 9. Comic Song- — W. H. Barnes. 10. Violin Solo — Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 11. Solo— Dr. Warmouth. 12. "When Nig-ht Comes O'er the Plain"— Miss M. Stokes and Professor Hanlon. 13. "The Mother's Farewell "—Mrs. Mag-gie Bene- dict. Part II. 1. Chorus — " Awa}' to the Prairie " — Company. 2. Piano Solo— Miss G. Hoyle. 3. Song- — Atlanta Amateurs. 4. Coquette Polka — Misses Hoyle and Stokes. 5. Chorus — ^"Let us Live with a Hope" — Compan3\ 6. "Mountain Bug-le " — Miss M. Stokes and Com- pany. 7. "Mazurka des Traineaux" — Piano Duet — Misses Hoyle and Stokes. 8. Shiloh Retreat— Violin— Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. Concluding- with the Battle Song- : "Cheer, Boys, Cheer"— W. H. Barnes. Tickets, 50c. Children and Servants, half price. Doors open 7:30 o'clock. Commence at 8:15 o'clock. Atlanta Intelligencer Power Print. DURING THE WAR. 30 LABORS OF LOVE. Musical — Atlanta. The citizens of Decatur were always invited to en- tertainments, social, literary, and musical, in Atlanta, that had in view the interest, pleasure or comfort of our soldiers ; therefore the invitation accompan34ng the following- programme received ready response : TWELFTH MUSICAL SOIREE —of the— ATLANTA AMATEURS, Monda}^ evening", June 24, 1861, For the Benefit of ATLANTA VOLUNTEERS, Captain Woddail, and the CONFEDERATE CONTINENTALS, Captain Seag"o, Who Are Going- to Defend Our Land. Let all attend and pay a parting- tribute to our brave soldiers. PROGRAMME. Part I. 1. We Come Ag-ain — (Orig-inal) — Company. 2. Dreams — (A Reverie) — Miss J. E. Whitney. 3. Violin Solo— (Hash)— Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 4. "Not for Gold or Precious Stones" — Miss R. J. Hale. 40 LIFE IN DIXIE 5. Yankee Doodle — According- to W. A. Hajnes. 6. Dixie Variations — Mrs. W. T. Farrar. 7. "Two Merry Alpine Maids" — Misses M." F. and J. E. Whitney. 8. "When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home" — Misses Sasseen and Judson. 9. " Root Hog- or Die "— W. H. Barnes. Instrumental Trio, "La Fille du Regiment "^ — Messrs. Schoen and Heindl. Vermicelli, (Variations) — W. H. Barnes and Openheimer. Part H. . 1. " Our Southern Land "— C. P. Haynes and Com- pany. 2. "Throug-h Meadows Green "—Miss M. F. Whitney.* 3. Solo— Thomas D. Wright. 4. "Home, Sweet Home "—Miss R. J. Hale. 5. Violin Exemplification — Col. Thomas F. Lowe. 6. " Happy Days of Yore " — Mrs. Hibler. 7. Quartette— (or ig-inal) — Misses Whitney, Mes- srs. Barnes and Haynes. 8. "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep" — Prof. Hanlon. Encore^Ballad. 9. "I Come, I Come" — Misses Sasseen, Westmore- land and Sims. The whole to conclude with the grand original. *This lady, Miss "Frank" Whitney, is now the wife of Mr. Charles W, Hubner, the well-known Atlanta poet. nVBlNG THE WAIi. 41 TABLEAU, (In Two Parts). The Women and Children of Dixie Rejoicing- Over the Success of the Confederate Banner. Scene 1. The Children of Dixie. Scene 2. The Women— The Soldiers— Our Flag-— Brilliant Illumination. Doors open at half past 7 o'clock. Curtain will rise at half past 8 o'clock. Tickets, Fifty Cents. Ushers will be on hand to seat audience. W. H. BARNES, Manag-er. t 42 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTKR IV. LABORS OF LOVE. Knitting and Sewing, and Writing Letters to " Our Soldiers." A patriotic co-operation between the citizens of Decatur and Atlanta soon sprang up, and in that, as in all things else, a social and friendl}^ inter- change of thought and feeling and deed existed ; and we were never so pleased as when aiding each other in the preparation of clothing and edibles for "our soldiers," or in some way con- tributing to their comfort. Many of us who had nev^er learned to sew became expert handlers of the needle, and vied with each other in producing well-made garments ; and I became a veritable knitting machine. Be- sides the discharge of many duties incident to the times and tending to useful results, I knitted a sock a da}^ long and large, and not coarse, many days in succession. At the midnight hour the weird click of knitting needles chasing each other round and round in the formation of these useful garments for the nether limbs of "our boys," was no unusual sound ; and tears and orisons blended with woof and warp and melancholy sighs. For at that dark hour, when other sounds were shut out, we dared to listen with bated breath to " the still, small voice" that whispered in no un- mistakab^^^nguage suggestions which w^ould >j||^] nUBING THE WAR. 43 have been rebuked in the glare of the noonday sun. No mother nor sister nor wife nor aunt of a Confederate soldier, need be told what were the depressing- suggestions of that " still, small voice" on divers occasions. When the knitting of a dozen pairs of socks was completed, they were washed, ironed and neatly folded by one of our faithful negro wo- men, and I then resumed the work of preparing them for their destination. Each pair formed a distinct package. Usually a pretty necktie, a pair of gloves, a handkerchief and letter, deposited in one of the socks, enlarged the package. When all was ready, a card bearing the name of the giver, and a request to "inquire within," was tacked on to each package. And then these twelve pack- ages were formed into a bundle, and addressed to an officer in command of some company chosen to be the recipient of the contents. I will give a glimpse of the interior of my letters to our boys. These letters were written for their spiritual edification, their mental im- provement and their amusement. " Never saw I the righteous forsaken." " Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark un fathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air." p. S. — " Apples are good but peaches are better: If you love me, you will write me a le^Mt'' — M. 44 LIFE IN DIXIE "Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. " If in the early morn of life, You give yourself to God, He'll stand by you 'mid earthly strife. And spare the chast'ning rod." — P. S. — "Roses are red and violets blue, Sugar is sweet and so are you." — M. " Love thy neighbor as thyself." " May every joy that earth can give Around thee brightly shine; Remote from sorrow may you live. And all of heaven be thine."— P. S.— Remember me when this you see. Though many miles apart we be. — M "Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law." " This above all — to thine own self be true, And it must follow as night the day. Thou canst not then be false to any one." P. S. — "Sure as the vine twines round the stump. You are my darling sugar lump." — M. • " The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us, therefore, cast off the works of darkness and let us put on the armour of light." " As for my life, it is but short. When I shall be no more ; To part with life I am content, As any heretofore. Therefore, good people, all take heed. This warning take by me— AcflM^ding to the lives you lead, arded you shall be." DUBING THE WAII. 45 P^ S.— " My pen is bad, my ink is pale, My love for you shall never fail."— M. "Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God." " The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's wall, As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er ; And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more. No more to chiefs and ladies bright The harp of Tara swells ; The chord alone that breaks at night Its tale of ruin tells. Thus Freedom, now so seldom wakes, The only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks To show that still she lives."— p. s.— " My love for you will ever flow. Like water down a cotton row."— M "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof ; the world and they that dwell therein. " For He hath founded it upon the seas, and estab- lished it upon the floods. "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in his holy place ? " He that hath clean hands and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor sworn de- ceitfully." " Know thyself, presume not God to scan. The proper study of mankind is man." 46 JAFE IX DIXIE P. S. — "Round as the ring- that has no end, Is my love for you, my own sweet friend." — M. "God is love." " Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth. Fooled by those rebel powers that there array. Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting- thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so larg-e cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end '?" P. S. — " If you love me as I love you, No knife can cut our love in two." — M. "But this I say, He that soweth sparing-lj shall reap also sparing-h^ ; and he which soweth bountifull}^ shall reap also bountifulh\ Every man according- as he purposeth in his heart, so let him g^ive, not g-rudg-- ing-lj, or of necessity ; for God loveth a cheerful g-iver." "Before Jehovah's awful throne Ye nations bow with sacred joy ; Know that the Lord is God alone ; He can create and He destroy." P. S. — " Above, below, in ocean, earth and skies, Nothing's so pretty as your blue eyes." — M. " I am come a lig^ht into the world, that whosoever believeth on Me should not abide in darkness." " And neither the angels in heaven above. Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee." P. S. — ''Remember me I Remember me I When this you see — Remember me !"— M. BUBIXG THE WAE. 47 " The Lord shall command the blessing- upon thee in the storehouses, and in all that thou settest thine hand unto." " Lives of great men all remind us, We can make our lives sublime, And departing-, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of Time." P. S. — " Remember well and bear in mind, A pretty girl's not hard to find ; But when you find one nice and Gay Hold on to her both night and day.— M. " He that covereth his sins shall not prosper ; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." "I'd give my life to know thy art. Sweet, simple, and divine ; I'd give this world to melt one heart. As thou hast melted mine." — Mary. P. S. — " As the earth trots round the sun. My love for you will ever run." — M. 48 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER V. THK THIRD MARYLAND ARTII.I.ERY. Some Old Songs. At some time in 1863, it was my privileg-e to meet a g-allant band of men whose faith in the justice of our cause was so strong- that they were constrained to turn their faces Southward and imperil their lives in its defence. These men represented the highest type of manhood in Ms^rjlund. Sickness entered their camp, and the good ladies of Decatur insisted upon providing- the comforts of home for the sick and wounded. Those to whom it was my privileg-e to minister belong-ed to the Third Maryland Artillery, under command of Captain John B. Rowan.* Among- them was one whose appreciation of kind- ness shown him ripened into an undying- friendship, Captain W. L. Ritter, a devoted Christian gentleman, and now an elder in Doctor LeFevre's Church, Balti- more. His fondness for that beautiful Southern song, by James R. Randall, entitled "Maryland, My Mary- land !" was truly pathetic. I subjoin the words to stir up the souls of our peo- ple by way of remembrance. *This brave officer was killed near Nashville, Tennessee, Dec. 16th, 1864. DURING THE WATt. 49 MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND. The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland, My Maryland! His touch is on thy temple door, Maryland, My Maryland. Aveng-e the patriotic gore, That flowed the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle-queen of yore, Maryland, My Maryland. Hark to a wand'ring- son's appeal, Maryland, My Maryland I My mother state, to thee I kneel, Maryland, My Maryland I For life and death, for woe and weal. Thy peerless chivalry reveal. And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland, My Maryland. Thou wilt not cower in the dust, Maryland, My Maryland! Thy beaming- sword shall never rust, Maryland, My Maryland. Remember Carroll's sacred trust, Remember Howard's warlike thrust. And all thy slumberers with the just, Maryland, My Maryland. Come, 'tis the red dawn of the day, Maryland, My Maryland! Come with thy panoplied array, . Maryland, My Maryland. With Ring-old's spirit for the fray. With Watson's blood at Monterey, With fearless Lowe and dashing- May : Maryland, My Maryland. Dear Mother! burst thy tyrant's chain, Maryland, My Maryland! Virgfinia should not call in vain, 50 LIFE IX DIXIE Maryland, My Maryland. She meets her sisters on the plain, "Sic Semper," 'tis the proud refrain That baffles minions back again, Maryland, My Maryland. Come! for thy shield is bright and strong, Maryland, My Maryland! Gomel for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Maryland, My Maryland. Come to thy own heroic throng, That stalks with liberty along, And give a new Key to thy song, Maryland, My Maryland. I see the blush upon thy cheek, Maryland, My Maryland I But thou wast ever bravely meek, Maryland, My Maryland. But, lo! the e surges forth a shriek, From hill to hill, from creek to creek, Potomac calls to Chesapeake, Maryland, My Maryland. Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll, Maryland, My Maryland! Thou wilt not crook to his control, ' Maryland, My Maryland. Better the fire upon thee roll. Better the shot, the blade, the bowl. Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland, My Maryland. I hear the distant thunder hum, Maryland, My Maryland! The Old Line bugle, fife and drum, Maryland, My Maryland. She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb — Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum; She breathes! She burns! She'll come, she'll come! Maryland, My Maryland. nUBIXG THE WAR. 51 An additional verse as sung- by Mrs. Jessie Clark, of Crisp's Co., Friday nig-ht, Sept. 12tli, 1862. HarkI tis the cannon's deaf ning- roar, Maryland, My Maryland! Old Stonewall's on thy hallow'd shore, Maryland, My Maryland. Methinks I hear the loud huzza Ring through the streets of Baltimore — Slaves no longer — free once more Maryland, My Maryland. There were other song-s sung- in those da^^s. Some of the most popular were "Bonnie Blue Flag-," "Dixie," "Bob Roebuck is my Soldier Boy," "Who will Care for Mother Now?" "Her Brig-ht Smile Haunts me Still," "Let me Kiss Him for his Mother," "All Quiet Along- the Potomac To-Nig-ht," "Rock me to Sleep, Mother," "When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home," "Just Before the Battle, Mother." In a collection of old music, now never played, there lie before me copies of these song-s. They were published in various Southern cities on paper not firm and smooth, but rather thin and coarse, but quite presentable. What memories these song's awake ! Where, oh where, are those who sang- them over thirty years ag-o ! Who of the sing-ers are now living- ? How many have gone to the Eternal Shore ? 52 LIFE IX DIXIE CHAPTER VI. A DARING AND UNIQUE CHASE- The Capture and Re-capture of the Railroad Eng-ine, "The "General." In the early spring- of 1862, there occurred an epi- sode of the war which, up to that date, was the most exciting- that had happened in our immediate section. The story has often been told ; but instead of relying- upon my memory, I will condense from the written statement of Mr. Anthony Murphy, of Atlanta, Geor- g-ia, who was one of the principal actors in the chase. Mr. Murphy beg-ins his narrative by saying: "On Saturday morning-, April 12th, 1862, about 4 o'clock, I went aboard a passeng-er train that started then for Chattanoog-a, Tennessee. My business that day was to examine an eng-ine that furnished power to cut wood and pump water for the locomotives at AUatoona, a station forty miles from Atlanta. As foreman of machine and motive power, it became my duty to g-o that morning-. This train was in charg-e of Kng-ineer Jeff Cain, and Conductor W. A. Fuller. It was known as a freig-ht and passeng-er train. The train arrived in Marietta, twenty miles from Atlanta, shortly after daylig-ht. I stepped from the coach and noticed a number of men g-etting- on the car forward of the one I rode in. They were dressed like citizens from the countrj^, and I supposed they were volunteers for the JJURING THE WAR. 53 army, going- to Big Shanty, now known as Kennesaw, a station about eighteen miles from Marietta, where troops were organized and forwarded to the Confed- erate army in Virginia and other points. At this sta- tion the train stopped for breakfast, and, as the en- gineer, conductor, myself and other passengers went to get our meals, no one was left in charge of the loco- motive. I had about finished, when I heard a noise as if steam were escaping. Looking through a win- dow I saw the cars move, saw the engineer and fire- man at the table, and said to them : 'Some one is moving your engine.' By this time I was at the front door, and saw that the train was divided and passing out of sight." Mr. Murphy, the conductor, and the engineer then held a brief consultation. He asked about the men who got on at Marietta (who afterwards proved to be a Federal raiding party, Andrews and his men), and remarked : " They were the men who took the engine and three cars." At the time he thought they were Confederate deserters, who would run the engine as far as it would have steam to run, and then abandon it. Mr. Murphy and his two comrades concluded that it* was their duty to proceed after them. A Mr. Ken- drick, connected with the railroad, coming up, they requested him to go on horseback to Marietta, the nearest telegraph station, and communicate with the superintendent at Atlanta, while they "put out on foot after a locomotive under steam." Knowing they would reach a squad of track-hands somewhere on the line they had some hope, and they did, in a few miles, meet a car and hands near Moon's Station, about two 54 LIFE IX DIXIE miles from Big- Shanty. The}^ pressed the car, and two hands to propel it, which propelling- was done b}^ poles pressed ag-ainst the ties or ground, and not by a crank. Soon thej reached a pile of cross-ties on the track, and found the teleg-raph wire cut. Clearing- off the ties, they pressed on until they reached Acworth Station, six miles from Big- Shant}^ There thej learned that the train they were pursuing- had stopped some distance from the depot, and having- been care- fully examined by its eng-ineer, had moved off at a rapid rate. This satisfied the pursuers that the capturers of the eng-ine "meant something- more than deserters would attempt ;" and then they " thoug-ht of enemies from the Federal arm3^" Says the narrator : " We moved on to Allatoona. At this place we re- ceived two old g-uns, one for Puller, and one for the writer. I really did not know how long- they had been' loaded, nor do I yet, for we never fired them. These were the only arms on our eng-ine during- our chase. Two citizens went along- from here, which made about seven men on our little pole-car. As we proceeded toward Ktowah, we moved rapidly, being- down g-rade, when suddenly we beheld an open place in the track. A piece of rail had been taken up by the raiders. Hav- ing- no brake, we could not hold our car in check, and plung-ed into this g"ap, turning- over with all hands except Fuller and myself, who jumped before the car left the track. The little car was put on ag-ain, and the poling man sent back to the next track-gang to have repairs made for following trains." Arriving at Ktowah, the pursuers found the engine "Yonah," used by the Cooper Iron Company, and DURING THE WAR. 55 pressed it into service. They got an open car, and stocked it with rails, spikes and tools, and moved on to Cartersville. Passing- on to Rogers' Station, they learned that the raiders had stopped there for wood and water, telling Mr. Rogers that they were under military orders, and that the engine crew proper were coming on behind. At Kingston the raiders had told that they were carrying ammunition to General Beauregard, on the line of the Memphis and Charles- ton Railroad, near Huntsville, Alabama. At this point the " Yonah" was sent back to Ktowah, and the supply car of the pursuers coupled to the engine "New York." But at Kingston the Rome Railroad connects with the Western & Atlantic road, and the Rome engine and train were in the way. Instead of clearing the track for the "New York," the crowd at the Kingston depot, having learned the news, took possession of the Rome engine and some cars attached, and pulled out for the chase, which compelled Mr. Murphy and his friends to abandon their outfit and run to get on the same train. A few miles were made, when they found a pile of cross-ties on the rails, and the telegraph wires cut. Clearing the track they moved on, when they encountered another gap. Here Messrs. Murphy and Fuller, believing that they would meet the engine " Texas " with a freight train, left the obstructed train and pressed on again on foot, advising the crowd to return, which they did. The pursuers met the " Texas" two miles from Adairsville, and, motioning the engineer to stop, they went aboard and turned him back. At Adairsville thev learned that Andrews had not been 56 LIFE IN DIXIE long g^one. Says the narrator : " About three miles from Calhoun we came in sig-ht for the first time of the captured engine, and three freight cars. They had stopped to remove another rail, and were in the act of trying to get it out when we came in sight. * * * As we reached them, they cut loose one car and started again. We coupled this car to our engine, and moved after them. * * * From Resaca to Tilton - the road was very crooked, and we had to move cautiously. The distance between us was short. * * * I feared ambushing by Andrews — reversing the en- gine and starting it back under an open throttle valve. * * * To prevent us closing in on them, the end of the box car was broken out, and from this they threw cross-ties on the track to check our speed and probably derail us. * * * I had a long bar fastened to the brake wheel of the tender to give power so that four men could use it to help check and stop the en- gine suddenly. I also stood by the reverse lever to aid the engineer to reverse his engine, which he had to do many times to avoid the cross-ties. "Passing through and beyond Tilton, we again came in sight. At this point the road has a straight stretch of over a mile. A short distance from Tilton and just as we rounded the curve, ' The General ' with the raiders was rounding another curve, leaving the straight line, giving us a fine view for some distance across the angle. * * * The fastest run was made at this point. * * * I imagine now, as I write this, I see the two great locomotives with their human freight speeding on, one trying to escape, the other endeavor- ing to overtake, and if such had happened none might nUBING THE WAR. 57 have been left to g-ive the particulars of that exciting- and daring- undertaking-. The chances of battle were certainly against us if Andrews had attempted fig-ht." Just beyond Dalton the pursuers found the tele- g-raph wire cut. On reaching- the "tunnel," they were satisfied that Andrews was short of wood, or the tunnel would not have been so clear of smoke. Pass- ing through the tunnel they kept on, and beyond Ringgold, about two miles, the captors left "The General" and made for the woods. The pursuers were in sight of them. Mr. Fuller and others started after the raiders. Mr. Murphy went on the engine to examine the cause of the stop. He found no wood in the furnace, but plenty of water in the boiler. Says Mr. Murphy: "I took charge of the engine, 'General,' had it placed on the side-track, and waited for the first train from Chattanooga to Atlanta. I reached Ringgold about dark. I went aboard, and reaching Dalton, the first telegraph station, I sent the first news of our chase and re-capture of the 'General' to Atlanta." 58 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER VII. Coming Home from Camp Chase — The Faithful Servant's Gift — A Glimpse of Confederate Braves. "A letter from Marse Thomie,'' said our mail car- rier, Toby, as he g"ot in speaking- distance on his re- turn from the post office. "What makes jou think so ?'' I said, excitedly. "I know his hand-write, and this is it," selecting- a letter from a large packag-e and handing- it to me. The very first g-limpse of the superscription assured me of his confident assertion. The letter was addressed to our mother, and bore a United States postag-e stamp, and the beloved sig-na- ture of her only son, Thomas J. Stokes. A thrill of g-ratitude and joy filled our hearts too full for utter- ance, as we read : "My Dear Mother : I have learned that the sol- diers of the 10th Texas Infantry will be exchang-ed for the United States troops very soon, perhaps to- morrow; and then, what happiness will be mine ! I can scarcely wait its realization. A visit home, a mother's embrace and kiss, the heart-felt manifesta- tions of the love of two sisters, and the joy and g-lad expression of faithful servants. I may brings several friends with me, whom I know 3^ou will welcome, both for my sake and theirs— they are valiant defenders of the cause we love. Adieu, dear mother, and sisters, until I see you at home, 'home, sweet home.' " DURING THE WAB. 59 "Thomie is coming- home!" " Thomie Stokes is coming- home !" was the g-lad announcement of mother, sisters, and friends ; and the servants took up the intellig-ence, and told everybody that Marse Thomie was coming- home, and was going to bring- some soldiers with him. Another day dawned and love's labor commenced in earnest. Doors were opened, and rooms ventila- ted : bed-clothing- aired and sunned, and dusting- brushes and brooms in willing- hands removed every particle of that much dreaded material of which man in all his glory, or ig-nominy, was created. Furniture and picture frames were polished and artistically arranged. And we beheld the work of the first day, and it was good. When another day dawned we were up with the lark, and his matin notes found responsive melody in our hearts, the sweet refrain of which was, "Thomie is coming-" — the soldier son and brother. Lig-ht bread and rolls, rusks and pies, cakes, etc., etc., were baked, and sweetmeats pre- pared, and another day's work was ended and pronounced satisfactory. The third day, for a g-enerous bonus, "Uncle Mack's" services were secured, and a fine pig- was slaug-htered and prepared for the oven, and also a couple of young- hens, and many other luxuries too numerous to mention. When all was ready for the feast of thanks- g-iving- for the return of the loved one, the waiting- seemed interminable. There was pathos in every look, tone, and act of our mother — the ling-ering- 60 LIFE IN DIXIE look at the calendar, the frequent g-lance at the clock, told that the days were counted, yea, that the hours were numbered. At leng-th the weary waiting- ended, and the joyous meeting- came of mother and son, of sisters and brother, after a sep- aration of four years of health and sickness, of joy and anguish, of hope and fear. As we stood upon the platform of the Decatur depot, and saw him step from the train, which we had been told by teleg-ram would bring- him to us, our hearts were filled with consternation and pity, and tears unbidden coursed down our cheeks, as we looked upon the brave and g-allant brother, who had now given three years of his early manhood to a cause rendered dear by in- heritance and the hig-hest principles of patriotism, and, in doing so, had himself become a physical wreck. He was lean to emaciation, and in his pale face was not a suggestion of the ruddy color he had carried away. A constant coug-h, which he tried in vain to repress, betrayed the deep inroads which prison life had made upon his system ; and in this respect he represented his friends — in describing- his appearance, we leave nothing untold about theirs. In war-worn pants and faded grey coats, they presented a spectacle never to be forgotten. Joy and grief contended for the supremacy. We did not realize that even a brief period of good nursing- and feeding- would work a g-reat change in the physical being of men just out of the prison pens of the frig-id North, and wept to think BVBING THE WAR. 61 that disease, apparently so deeply rooted, could not be cured, and that they were restored to us but to die. Perceiving- our grief and divining- the cause, our Thomie took us, our mother first, into his arms and kissed us, and said in his old-time way, "I'll be all rig-ht soon." And Toby and Telitha, the house servants, came in for their share of kindly g-reeting-. Thomie then introduced us to Captain Lauderdale, Captain Formwalt, and Lieutenant McMurray, his Texas friends and comrades in arms. Our cordial, heart-felt welcome was appreciated b}- this trio of g-entlemen, and to this day we receive from them mes- sag-es of abiding- friendship. Captain Lauderdale was one of the most perfect g-entlemen I ever saw — tall, g-raceful, erect, and finely formed. His face, of Gre- cian mould, was faultless; and his hair, black as a raven's plumag-e, and interspersed with g-rey, would have adorned the head of a king-. His bearing- was dig-nified and yet affable, and so polished and eas}^ in manner as to invite most friendly intercourse. Captain Formwalt was also a fine specimen of man- hood — free and easy, g-ay and rollicking-. He seemed to think his mission on earth was to bring- cheerful- ness and g-lee into every household he entered. Lieutenant McMurray was unlike either of his friends. Apparentl}^ cold, apathetic and reserved, he repelled all advances tending- to cordial relations, until well acquainted, after which he was metamor- phosed into a kind and g-enial g-entleman. Thomie, dear Thomie, was a boy ag-ain, and while our g-uests were refreshing- themselves preparatory to 62 LIFE IX DIXIE dinner, he was going" all over the house, for every nook and corner was endeared by association. He opened the piano, and running" his lingers over the ke3^s with the grace and ease of his boyhood, he played accompaniments to his favorite songs, " Home Again," and "Way Down Upon the Suwanee River," trying to sing, but prevented by the irrepressible coughing. Then, with nervous hand, he essayed "When this Cruel War is Over." Turning away from the piano, he went to the librar}^ and handled with tender care the books he had read in boyhood. Shake- speare, Milton, B3-ron and Moore possessed no inter- est for him now ; and Blackstone and Chitty were equally ignored. The books his mother and sister read to him in his childhood were, as if by intuition, selected, and fondly conned and handled. His own name was written in them, and his tearful e3^es lin- gered long and lovinglj- upon these reminders of bo}^- hood's happ}^ hours. With a sigh he left the librar^^ and espying Tob}^, who kept where he could see as much as possible of " Marse Thomie," he called the bo3^ and held an encouraging little conversation with him. Dinner being ready, our mother led the way to the dining room. Our guests having taken the seats as- signed them, Thomie took his near his mother — his boyhood's seat at table. B}^ request, Captain Lau- derdale asked the blessing. And, oh, what a blessing he invoked upon the "dear ones, who, with loving hands, prepared this feast for the son and brother of the household, and for his friends in peace and com- rades in war." Pleasant conversation ensued, and all DUBING THE WAR. 63 enjoyed the repast. But the g-entlemen seemed to us to eat very little, and, in reply to our expression of disappointment, they explained the importance of lim- iting themselves for several days in this respect. As there was no trunk to send for, and no valise to carry, we rightly surmised that the clothing of these good men was limited to the apparel in which they were clad, and it was decided by my mother and my- self that I should go to Atlanta and get material for a suit of clothes for Thomie, and good warm under- clothing for them .all. Arrived at Atlanta, I was irresistibly led by that mystic power, which has often controlled for good results the acts of man, to go to Dr. Taylor's drug store. Here I found King, our faithful negro man, as busy as a bee, labeling and packing medicine for shipment. I approached him and said : "King, Thomie has come." "Marse Thomie ?" "Yes." "Thank God," he said, with fervor. When I was about leaving the store, he said : " Miss Mary, just wait a minute, please, and I will get something that I want you to take to Marse Thomie, and tell him I don't want him to be hurt with me for sending it to him. I just send it because I love him — me and him was boys together, j^ou know, and I always thought he ought to 'er took me with him to the war." "What is it. King?" " Just a little article I got in trade. Miss Mary," was all the satisfaction he vouchsafed. 64 lif:e in dixie When he handed it to me, knowing- b}^ the sense of touch that it was a packag-e of dry g*oods, I took it to Mrs. O'Connor's millinery establishment, and asked the privilege of opening it there. Imagine my aston- ishment and delig-ht, when I beheld a pattern of fine g-rey cassimere. I felt of it, and held it up between my eyes and the lig-ht. There was nothing shoddy about it. It was indeed a piece of fine cassimere, finer and better than anything- I could have procured in Atlanta at that time. The circumstance was sug*- g-estive of Elijah and the ravens, and I thanked God for the gift so opportune, and lost no time in return- ing to the drug store, and thanking King, the raven employed by the Lord to clothe one of His little ones. Nor did I lose any time in adding- to the packag-e other articles of necessity, flannel and the best Georg-ia- made homespun I could procure, and was then ready to take the return train to Decatur. Thomie was deepl}^ touched by the opportune g-ift, and said that King was a great boy, and that he must see him. After supper I clandestinely left the house, and ran around to Todd McAllister's and beg-ged him to take the job of making the suit. He agreed to cut the coat, vest and pantaloons by measure, and for that purpose went home with me, shears and tape measure in hand. Having finished this important part of the job, he told me he could not make the suit himself, but he thought if I would " talk right pretty to the old lady," she would do it. Next morning I lost no time in "talking prett}^" to the old lady, and, having- secured her promise to undertake the work, it was soon in her hands. With the help of faithful, efficient DURING THE WAR. 65 women, and I suspect of her husband, too, the job was executed surprisingly soon. In the meantime the making- of flannel g-arments, and homespun shirts with bosoms made of linen pillow-cases, was prog-ress- ing" with remarkable celerity. When all was finished, and Thomie was arrayed in his new suit, which set admirably well notwith- standing- the room allowed for increasing- dimensions, which we doubted not under g-ood treatment he would attain — King Solomon, in purple and line linen, was not looked upon with more admiration than was he by his loying mother and sisters. His cough had in a measure yielded to remedies, and his cheeks bore the tinge of better blood. Good Mr. Levi Willard, his wife and children, had already been to see Thomie and the strangers within our gates, and many others had sent kind messages and sub- stantial tokens of regard. And the young people of Decatur, 3"oung ladies and little boys, were planning to give him a surprise party. And among these lov- ing attentions was a visit from King, the faithful. The flowers bloomed prettier, the birds sang sweeter, because of their presence ; but time waits for no man, and we were admonished by low conversa- tions and suggestive looks that these men, officers in the army of the Confederacy, were planning their de- parture. Many amusing incidents, as well as those of a hor- rible character, were told of their prison life in Camp Chase. To illustrate the patriotism of Southern men. Colonel Deshler, as a prisoner of war, figured conspic- uously ; and many anecdotes, ludicrous and pathetic, 66 . LIFE IN DIXIE quaint and orig-inal, revealed the deep devotion of his love for the South. In one of these word-painting-s, he was represented as sitting- on his legs, darning- the seat of his pantaloons, when a feminine curiosity seeker came along. When she perceived his occupa- tion, she said with a leer that would have done credit to Lucifer : "You rebels find it pretty hard work to keep your gray duds in order, don't you?" Without looking at her, he whistled in musical cadence the contempt he felt for her and her ilk ; and the imprecations, he would not have expressed in words, were so distinct and well modulated as to leave no doubt as to their meaning. The time had come for the nature of the low-toned conversations referred to, to be revealed, and Thomie was chosen to make the revelation. Planning to have mother and sisters present, he discussed the duties of patriotism, and the odium men brought upon them- selves b}^ not discharging those duties. Making the matter personal, he referred to himself and friends, to the great pleasure and personal benefit derived from a week's sojourn at home ; of the love for us that would ever linger in their hearts ; of the pleasant memories that would nerve them in future conflicts ; and in conclusion told us that to-morrow they would leave us to join their command at TuUahoma, where the decimated regiment was to sta}^ until its numbers were sufficiently recruited for service. Instead of yielding to grief, we repressed every evidence of it, and spoke only words of encourage- ment to these noble men who had never shirked a nUBIKG THE WAli. 67 duty, or soug-ht bomb-poof positions in the arm}- of the Confederacy. After this interview, Thomie abandoned himself to cheerfulness, to almost boyish g-aiety. He kept very close to his mother. She had g-rown old so rapidly since the troubles beg-an, that she needed all the support that could be g"iven her in this ordeal. This he perceived without seeming- to do so, and left nothing- within his power undone for her encourag-ement. He even discussed with perfect equanimity the probability, yea, the more than proba- bility, of his g-etting- killed in battle ; for, said he, "he that taketh up the sword, by the sword shall he perish." And, he added, "strong-, irrepressible con- victions constrained me to enter the army in defense of mother, home, and country. My vote was cast for the secession of my state from the union of states which existed only in name, and I would not have ac- cepted any position tendered me which would have secured me from the dang-ers involved by that step. I was willing- to g-ive my life if need be, for the cause which should be dear to every Southern heart." Every one present responded to these noble senti- ments, for were we not soldiers, too, working- for the same noble cause, and aiding- and abetting- those who foug-ht its battles? Before retiring- to our rooms. Captain Lauderdale, as usual, led in prayer, fervent, deep and soul support- ing-, more for our mother and ourselves than for himself and his comrades in their perilous positions. And dear Thomie, whom I had never heard pray since his cradle invocation, " Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep," 68 LIFE IK DIXIE finished in words thrilling- and beautiful. The effect was electrical. Tears and sobs were no longer re- pressed, and all found relief from long- pent-up feel- ing's. O, the blessedness of tears ! Morning- came, clear as crystal, and cool and ex- hilarating-. The household were up at early dawn. A strong- decoction of coffee was prepared, and fresh cream toast and boiled eg-g-s, meat relishes being- served cold. Knapsacks — there were knapsacks now — were packed, and blankets rolled and buckled in straps, and our ebony Confederates, Toby and Telitha, stood read}^ to convey them to the depot. In order to meet the morning- train at seven o'clock we started, but the services of Toby and Telitha were not ac- cepted. The g-entlemen said it would never do for soldiers to start off to report for service with neg-roes carrying- their knapsacks and blankets. They had no muskets to shoulder, for of these they had been di- vested at Arkansas Post, months ag-o, when captured by the enemy. Lieutenant McMurray, who was in feeble health, announced himself unable to report for duty, and remained with us several weeks long-er. The parting at the depot did not betray the grief, almost without earthly hope, that was rankling in our hearts, and the "good-bye's" and "God bless you's" were uttered with a composure we little thought at our command. As the time of his departure had drawn near, Thomie had sought opportunities to tell me much of the young girl in Texas, who had healed the lacera- tions of his youthful heart, and won the admiration of DUBIJS^G THE WAIi. 69 his manliood, and whom he had made his wife. Upon her devotion he dwelt with peculiar pathos and grati- tude ; and he concluded these conversations with the request that under any and all circumstances I would be a sister to her. On one occasion we were stand- ing- near the piano, and, when we ceased to talk, Thomie opened it, and in tones that came from the heart, and that were tremulous with emotion, he sang-, "When this Cruel War is Over." Why sings the swan its sweetest notes, When life is near its close ? Since writing- the foreg-oing-, I have had access to a journal kept during- the war by my half sister, Mis- souri Stokes, in which are the following- entries of his- toric value : "On the 11th of January, 1868, Arkan- sas Post, the fort where Thomie was stationed, fell into the hands of Yankees. General Churchhill's whole command, numbering- about four thousand, were captured, a few being- killed aud wounded. We knew that Thomie, if alive, must be a prisoner, but could hear no tidings from him. Our suspense contin- ued until the latter part of March, when ma received a letter from our loved one, written at Camp Chase (military prison), Ohio, February 10th. This letter she forwarded to me, and I received it March 21st, with heart-felt emotions of gratitude to Him who had preserved his life. A few weeks afterwards another letter came, saying he expected to be exchanged in a few days, and then for several weeks we heard no more. From this journal I learn that the date of Thomie's arrival was May 16th, 1863. My sister wrote of him : 70 LIFE IN DIXIE " He seemed much changfed, althoug-h only four years and a half had elapsed since we parted. He looked older, thinner, and more careworn, and g'ray hairs are sprinkled among- his dark brown curls. His health had been poor in the army, and then, when he left Camp Chase, he, as well as the other prisoners, was stripped by the Yankees of nearlj^ all his warm cloth- ing. He left the prison in April, and was exchanged at City Point. How strange the dealings of Provi- dence. Truly was he led by a way he knew not. He went out to Texas by way of the West, and returned home from the East. God be thanked for preserving his life, when so many of his comrades have died. He is a miracle of mercy. After their capture, they were put on boats from which Yankee small-pox patients had been taken. Some died of small-pox, but Thomie has had varioloid and so escaped. He was crowded on a boat with twenty-two hundred, and scarcely had standing room. Many died on the passage up the river, one poor fellow with his head in Thomie's lap. May he never go through similar scenes again !" From this same journal I take the following, writ- ten after Missouri's return to the school she was teaching in Bartow county : "Sabbath morning, June 14th. Went to Carters- ville to church. Some time elapsed before preaching commenced. A soldier came in, sat down rather be- hind me, then, rising, approached me. // zuas Thomie. I soon found (for we did talk in church) that he had an order to join Kirby Smith, with a recommendation from Bragg that he be allowed to recruit for his regi- ment. Fortunately there was a vacant seat in the JJUEIXG THE WAE. 71 carriag"e, so he went out home with us. Monday 15th, Thomie left. I rode with him a little beyond the school-house, then took my books and basket, and with one kiss, and, on my part, a tearful g^ood-bye, we parted. As I walked slowly back, I felt so lonely. He had been with me just long- enoug^h for me to real- ize a brother's kind protection, and now he's torn away, and I'm ag-ain alone. I turned and looked. He was driving- slowly along — he turned a corner and was hidden from my view. Shall I see him no more ? Or shall we meet ag-ain ? God only knows. After a fit of weeping-, and one earnest prayer for him, I turned my step^ to my little school." And thus our brother went back to Texas, and g-ladly, too, for was not his Mary there ? Of Thomie's recall to join his command at Dalton ; of his arrival at home the next February, on his way to " the front ;" of his participation in the hard-foug-ht battles that contested the wa}^ to Atlanta ; and of his untimely death at the fatal battle of Franklin, Ten- nessee, I may speak hereafter. Even in the spring- and summer of 1863, the shad- ows began to deepen, and to hearts less sanguine than mine, affairs were assuming a gloomy aspect. I notice in this same journal from which I have quoted the foregoing extracts, the following : "Our fallen braves, how numerous ! Among our generals, Zollicoffer, Ben McCulloch, Albert Sidney Johnston, and the saintly, dauntless Stonewall Jack- son, are numbered with the dead ; while scarcely a household in our land does not mourn the loss of a brave husband and father, son or brother." 72 LIFE IN DIXIE CHApTKR VIII. SOME SOCIAL FEATURES. Morgan's Men Rendezvous near Decatur — Waddell's Artillery —Visits from the Texans— Surgeon Haynie and his Song. In the winter of 1864 there seems to have been a lull of hostilities between the armies at "the front." Morgan's .men were rendezvousing- near Decatur. Their brave and dashing chief had bee*^ captured, but had made his escape from the Ohio penitentiary, and was daily expected. Some artillery companies were camping- near, among them Waddell's. There was also a conscript camp within a mile or two ; so it is not to be wondered at that the young ladies of Decatur availed themselves in a quiet way of the social enjoy- ment the times afforded, and that there were little gatherings at private houses at which "Morgan's men" and the other soldiers were frequently repre- sented. Our brother was absent in Texas, where he had been assigned to dut}^ but my sister was at home, and man}' an hour's entertainment her music gave that winter to the soldiers and to the jonng people of De- catur. My mother's hospitality was proverbial, and much of our time these wintry months was spent in entertaining our soldier guests, and in ministering to the sick in the Atlanta hospitals, and in the camps and temporary hospitals about Decatur. DURING THE WAR. 73 So near were we now to " the front " (about a hun- dred miles distant), that several of my brother's Tex- as comrades obtained furloug-hs and came to see us. Among- these were Lieutenants Prenderg-ast and Jewell, Captain Leonard and Lieutenant Collins, Captain Bennett and Lieutenant Donathan. They usually had substantial boots made while here, by Smith, the Decatur boot and shoe maker, which cost less than those they could have boug-ht in Atlanta. We received some very pleasant calls from Morg-an's men and Waddell's Artillery. Among- the latter we have always remembered a young- man from Alabama, James Duncan Calhoun, of remarkable intellectual ability, refreshing- candor and refinement of manner. Ever since the war Mr. Calhoun has devoted himself to journalism. Among the former we recall Lieuten- ant Adams, Messrs. Gill, Dupries, Clinkinbeard, Steele, Miller, Fortune, Rowland, Baker, and Dr. Lewis. These gentlemen were courteous and intelli- g-ent, and evidently came of excellent Kentucky and Tennessee families. One evening- several of these g-entlemen had taken tea with us, and after supper the number of our g-uests was aug-mented by the com- ing of Dr. Ruth, of Kentucky, and Dr. H. B. Haynie, surgeon of the 14th Tennessee Cavalry. Dr. Ha3^nie was an elderly, gray-haired man, of fine presence, and with the courtly manners of the old school. On being- unanimously requested, he sang- us a song- entitled : "The Wailing-s at Fort Delaware," which he had composed when an inmate of that wretched prison. As one of the g-entlemen remarked, "there is more truth than poetry in it ;'' yet there are in it some indi- 74 LIFE IN DIXIE cations of poetic genius, and Dr. Haynie sang it with fine effect. "THE WAILINGS AT FORT DP:LAWARE." By B. H. Haynie, Surgeon 14th Tennessee Cavalry (Mor- gan's Division). Oh! here we are confined at Fort Delaware, With nothing to drink but a little lager beer, Infested by vermin as much as we can bear; Oh -Jeff, can't you help us to get away from here '? Chorus— And it's home, dearest home, the place 1 ought to be, Home, sweet home, way down in Tennessee, Where the ash and the oak and the bonny willow tree, Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. The Island itself will do well enough, But the flat-footed Dutch are filthy and rough, Oh I take us aAvay from the vandal clan, Down into Dixie among the gentlemen. Chorus — And its home, dearest home, etc. Spoiled beef and bad soup is our daily fare, And to complain is more than any dare ; They will buck us and gag us, and cast us in a cell. There to bear the anguish and torments of hell. Chorus— The den for our eating is anything but clean. And the filth upon the tables is plainly to be seen, And the smell of putrefaction rises on the air, " To fill out the bill " of our daily fare, Chorus— DURING THE WAR. 75 *" The sick are well treated," as Southern surgeons say, " And the losses by death are scarcely four per day ;" It's diarrhoea mixture for scurvy and small-pox, And every other disease of Pandora's box! Chorus— Oh! look at the graveyard on the Jersey shore, At the hundreds and the thousands who'll return no more: Oh ! could they come back to testify Against the lying devils, and live to see them die ! Chorus— *"Our kindness to prisoners you cannot deny. For we have the proof at hand upon which you can rely ; It's no Dutch falsehood, nor a Yankee trick. But from Southern surgeons who daily see the sick." Chorus— Our chaplain, whose heart was filled with heavenly joys. Asked leave to pray and preach to Southern boys ; "Oh, no !" says the General, "you are not the man, You are a Southern rebel, the vilest of your clan !" Chorus— Oh ! speak out, young soldier, and let your country hear. All about your treatment at Fort Delaware ; How they worked you in their wagons when weary and sad, With only half rations, when plenty they had. Chorus— The barracks were crowded to an overflow, Without a single comfort on the soldier to bestow ; Oh, there they stood shivering in hopeless despair, With insufficient diet or clothing to wear ! Chorus— 76 LIFE IX DIXIE The mother stood weeping in sorrows of woe, Mingling her tears with the waters that flow ; Her son was expiring at Fort Delaware, Which could have been avoided with prudence and care. Chorus — Oh ! take ofT my fetters and let me go free, To roam o'er the mountains of old Tennessee ; To bathe in her waters and breathe her balmy air, And look upon her daughters so lovely and fair. Chorus— Then, cheer up, my brave boys, your country will be free, Your battles will be fought by Generals Bragg and Lee ; And the Yankees will fly with trembling and fear, And we'll return to our wives and sweethearts so dear. Chorus— And it's home, dearest home, the place where I ought to be, Home, sweet home way down in Tennessee, Where the ash and the oak, and the bonny willow tree. Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. *The fifth and seventh verses are criticisms upon four Southern surgeons, who gave the Federal authorities a certificate that our prisoners were well treated, and our sick well cared for, and that the average loss by death was only four per day . DURING THE WAR 77 CHAPTER IX. thomik's second homk coming. He Leaves for "The Front"— His Christian Labors in Camp- He Describes the Battle of New Hope Church — The Great Revival in Johnston's Army. Early one morning" in the February of the winter just referred to (that of 1864), as my sister lay awake, she heard some one step upon the portico and knock. As Toby opened the door, she heard him exclaim : "Why howd'y, Marse Thomie !" Her first thoug-ht was, "now he is back just in time to be in the battle !" for a resumption of hostilities was daily looked for near Dalton. We were all g-reatly surprised at Thomie's arrival on this side of the Mississippi, as only a few days before we had received a letter from him, written, it is true, so long- as the November before, say- ing- he had been assig-ned to duty out in Texas by Gen- eral Henry McCulloch. But the consolidation of the reg-iments in Granbury's brig-ade having- been broken up, he had been ordered back to join his old command. He had left Marshall, Texas, the 28th of January, hav- ing- made the trip in one month, and having- walked four hundred miles of the way. Under the circum- stances, we were both g-lad and sorrowful at his re- turn. After a stay of three days, he left us for "the front." In the early morning- of February 29th, we went with him to the depot, the last time we four 78 LIFE IN DIXIE were ever tog^ether. Parting- from him was a bitter trial to our mother, who wept silently as we walked back to the desolate home, no long-er g-laddened by the sunny presence of the only son and brother. Per- haps nothing- will g-iv^e a more g-raphic impression of some phases of arm}- life at this time, nor a clearer insig-ht into our brother's character, than a few ex- tracts from his letters written at this period to his sister Missouri, and preserved by her to this day: "Dalton, Ga., March 15th, 1864.— * * * Our reg-iment takes its old org-anization as the 10th Texas, and Colonel Young- has been dispatched to Texas to g-ather all the balance, under an order from the war department. We are now in Dalton doing- provost duty (our reg-iment), which is a y^xj unpleasant duty. It is my business to examine all papers whenever the cars arrive, and it is very disag-reeable to have to arrest persons who haven't proper papers. The reg-u- lations about the town are very strict. No one under a brig-adier-g-eneral can pass without approval papers. My g-uard arrested General Johnston himself, day before yesterday. Not knowing- him they wouldn't take his word for it, but demanded his papers. The old General, very g-ood-humoredly showed them some orders he had issued himself, and, being- satisfied, they let him pass. He took it g-ood-humoredly, while little colonels and majors become very indignant and wrathy under such circumstances. Prom which we learn, first, the want of g-ood common sense, and, secondly, that a great man is an humble man, and does not look with contempt upon his inferiors in rank, whatsoever that rank may be. DURING THE WAR. 79 "There is a very interesting- meeting- in prog-ress here. I g-et to g-o every other nig-ht. I have seen sev- eral baptized since I have been here. There are in attendance every evening- from six to seven hundred soldiers. There are many who g-o to the anxious seat. Three made a profession of relig-ion nig-ht before last. I am g"oing- to-night. There seems to be a deep inter- esttaken, and God g-rant the g-ood work may g-o on until the whole army may be made to feel where they stand before their Maker. Write soon. Your affectionate brother, Tom Stokes." From another letter we take the following- : "Near Dalton, April 5th, 1864.— We have had for some weeks back very unsettled weather, which has rendered it very disag-reeable, thoug-h we haven't suf- fered ; we have an old tent which affords a g-ood deal of protection from the weather. It has also interfered some with our meeting's, thoug-h there is preaching- nearly every nig-ht that there is not rain. Brother Hug-hes came up and preached for us last Friday nig-ht and seemed to g-ive g-eneral satisfaction. He was plain and practical, which is the only kind of preaching- that does g-ood in the army. He promised to come back ag-ain. I like him very much. Another old brother, named Campbell, whom I heard when I was a boy, preached for us on Sabbath evening-. There was much feeling-, and at the close of the services he invited mourners to the anxious seat, and I shall never forg-et that blessed half-hour that followed; from every part of that grreat cong-reg-ation they came, many with streamings eyes; and, as they g-ave that old patriarch 80 LIFE IX DIXIE their hands, asked that God's people would pray for them. Yes, men who never shrank in battle from any responsibility, came forward weeping*. Such is the power of the Gospel of Christ when preached in its purity. Oh, that all ministers of Christ could, or would, realize the g-reat responsibilit}^ resting- upon them as His ambassadors. ' ' Sabbath night we had services again, and also last nig"ht, both well attended, and to-nig-ht, weather per- mitting, I will preach. God help me and give me g-race from on hig-h, that I may be enabled, as an hum- ble instrument in His hands, to speak the truth as it is in Jesus, for 'none but Jesus can do helpless sinners g"Ood.' I preached last Sabbath was two weeks ago to a larg-e and attentive congregation. There seemed to be much seriousness, and although much embar- rassed, yet I tried, under God, to feel that I was but in the discharge of my duty; and may I ever be found battling for my Savior. Yes, my sister, I had rather be an humble follower of Christ than to wear the crown of a monarch. Remember me at all times at a Throne of Grace, that my life may be spared to become a use- ful minister of Christ. "Since my return we have established a prayer- meeting in our company, or, rather, a kind of family service, every night after roll call. There is one other company which has pra3^er every night. Captain P. is very zealous. There are four in our company who pray in public — one sergeant, a private, Cap- tain F. and myself. We take it time about. We have cleared up a space, fixed a stand and seats, and have a regular preaching place. I have never seen DURING THE WAR. 81 such a spirit as there is now in the army. Relig-ion is the theme. Everywhere, you hear around the camp- fires at nig-ht the sweet songs of Zion. This spirit pervades the whole army. God is doing- a glorious work, and I believe it is but the beautiful prelude to peace. I feel confident that if the enemy should attempt to advance, that God will fig-ht our battles for us, and the boastful foe be scattered and severely rebuked. "I witnessed a scene the other evening, which did my heart good— the baptism of three men in the creek near the encampment. To see those hardy soldiers taking up their cross and following their Master in His ordinance, being- buried with Him in baptism, was indeed a beautiful sight. I really believe, Mis- souri, that there is more religion now in the army than among- the thousands of skulkers, exempts and speculators at home. There are but few now but who will talk freely with you upon the subject of their soul's salvation. What a chang-e, what a change! when one year ago card pla3-ing- and profane languag-e seemed to be the order of the day. Now, what is the cause of this change? Manifestly the working of God's spirit. He has chastened His people, and this manifestation of His love seems to be an earnest of the good things in store for us in not a far away future. 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' Let all the people at home now, in unison with the army, hum- bly bow, acknowledg-e the afflicting hand of the Almighty, ask Him to remove the curse upon His own terms, and soon we will hear, so far as our Nation is 82 LIFE IN DIXIE concerned, ' Glory to God in the hig-hest, on earth peace, g"ood will toward men ! ' " I received the articles ma sent by Brother Hug-hes, which were much relished on the top of the coarse fare of the army. ^h ^^ * Write me often. God bless you in your labors to do g-ood. Your affectionate brother, T. J. Stokes." From another of those time-stained, but precious letters, we cull the following-, under the heading* of : "In Camp, Near Dal ton, Ga., April 18, 1864.— * * * The g"Ood work still g"oes on here. Thirty-one men were baptized at the creek below our brigade yes- terda}^ and I have heard from several other brig-ades in which the proportion is equally larg-e (thoug-h the thirty-one were not all members of this brig-ade). Taking- the proportion in the whole army as heard from (and I have only heard from a part of one corps), there must have been baptized yesterday 150 persons —maybe 200. This revival spirit is not confined to a part only, but pervades the whole army. ^ ^ ^ * Brother Hug-hes was with us the other nig-ht, but left again the next morning-. The old man seemed to have much more influence in the army than young- men. I have preached twice since writing- to you, and the Spirit seemed to be with me. The second sermon was upon the crucifixion of Christ: text in the 53d chapter of Isaiah : ' He was wounded for our transg-ressions and bruised for our iniquities.' It was the first time in my life, that is, in public speaking-, that my feeling-s g-ot so much the mastery of me as to make me weep like a child. In the conclusion I asked all who felt an DURING THE WAB. 83 interest in the prayers of God's people to come to the anxious seat. Many presented themselves, and I could hear many among- them, with sobs and groans, imploring- God to have mercy upon them; and I think the Lord did have mercy upon them, for when we opened the door of the church six united with us. Every Sabbath you may see the multitude wending- their way to the creek to see the solemn ordinance typical of the death, burial and resurrection of our Savior. Strang-e to say that a larg-e number of those joining- the pedo-Baptist branches prefer being- im- mersed; thoug-h in the preaching you cannot tell to which denomination a man belongs. This is as it should be; Christ and Him crucified should be the theme. It is time enough, I think, after one is con- verted, to choose his church rule of faith. "If this state of things should continue for any considerable length of time, we will have in the Army of Tennessee an army of believers. Does the history of the world record anywhere the like ? Even Crom- well's time sinks into insignificance. A revival so vast in its proportions, and under all the difdculties attending camp life, the bad weather this spring, and innumerable difficulties, is certainly an earnest of bet- ter, brighter times not far in the future." To the believer in Jesus, we feel sure that these extracts concerning this remarkable work of grace, will prove of deep interest ; so we make no apologies for quoting in continuation the following from another of those letters of our soldier brother, to whom the conquests of the cross were the sweetest of all themes : 84 LIFE IN DIXIE. "Near'Dalton, April 28tli, 1864.— Mj Dear Sister: I should hav^e written sooner but have been very much eng-ag-ed, and when not eng-ag-ed have felt more like resting than writing, and, to add to this. Sister Mary very ag-reeably surprised me by coming- up on last Saturday. She left on Tuesday morning- for home. While she was at Dalton, I went down on each day and remained until evening-. I fear ma and sister are too much concerned about me, and therefore render themselves unhappy. Would that they could trust God calmly for the issue. And I fear, too, that they deny themselves of many comforts, that the}^ may fur- nish me with what I could do (as many have to do) without. ^ -^ -^ -^ :^ -^ ■:^ " The great unexampled revival is fast increasing- in interest. I have just returned from the creek, where I saw thirty-three buried with Christ in bap- tism, acknowledg-ing there before two thousand per- sons that they were not ashamed to follow Jesus in His ordinance. My soul was made happy in witness- ing the solemn scene. In that vast audience every- thing- was as quiet and respectful as in a villag-e chapel ; and, by the way, I have seen villag-e cong-re- g-ations who might come here and learn to behave. General Lowry baptized about thirteen of them who were from his brig-ade. He is a Christian, a soldier and a zealous preacher, and his influence is g-reat. It was truly a beautiful sight to see a general baptizing- his men. He preaches for our brigade next Sabbath. I preached for General Polk's brig-ade nig-ht before last, and we had a very interesting meeting-. They DURING THE WAB. 85 have just beg-un there, yet I had a congreg-ation of some 400. At the conclusion of the services, I invited those who desired an interest in our prayers to mani- fest their desire b}- coming to the altar. A g-oodly number presented themselves, and we prayed with them. I shall preach for them ag^ain very soon. The revival in our brig-ade has continued now for four weeks, nearly, and many have found peace with their Savior. If we could remain stationary a few weeks long-er, I believe the g^reater portion of the army would be converted. This is all the doing-s of the Lord, and is surely the earnest of the g-reat deliver- ance in store for us. It is the belief of many, that this is the 'beginning- of the end.' From all parts of the army the glad tidings comes that a great revival is in progress. I wish I had time to write to you at length. One instance of the power of His spirit : A lieutenant of our regiment, and heretofore very wild, became interested, and for nearly three weeks seemed groaning in agony. The other day he came around to see me, and, with a face beaming with love, told me he had found Christ, and that his only regret now was that he had not been a Christian all his life. It is growing dark. I must close. More anon. Affectionately, Your Brother." We take up the next letter in the order of time. It is numbered 25. The envelope is of brown wrapping paper, but neath^ made, and has a blue Confederate 10 cent postage stamp. It is addressed to my sister, who was then teaching at Corinth, Heard countj^ Georgia, It is dated : 86 LIFE IN DIXIE "Near Dal ton, May 5tli, 1864." After speaking- of having- to take charg-e early the next morning- of the brig-ade picket g-uard, Thomie goes on to say : " The sun's most down, but I think I can fill these little pag-es before dark. Captain P., coming- in at this time, tells me a dispatch has just been received to the effect that the Yankees are advancing- in the direction of Tunnel Hill, but they have made so many feints in that direction lately that we have become used to them, so don't become uneasy. " The g-reat revival is g"oing- on with widening- and deepening interest. Last Sabbath I saw eighty-three immersed at the creek below our brigade. Four were sprinkled at the stand before going down to the creek, and two down there, making an aggregate within this vicinity of eighty-nine, while the same proportion, I suppose, are turning to God in other parts of the army, making the grand aggregate of many hundreds. Yesterday I saw sixty-five more baptized, forty more who were to have been there failing to come because of an order to be ready to move at any moment. They belong to a more distant brigade. * * jf ^e do not move before Monda}^, Sabbath will be a day long to be remembered- — ' the water will,' indeed, 'be troubled.' Should we remain three weeks longer, the glad tidings may go forth that the Army of Tennessee is the army of the Lord. But He knoweth best what is for our good, and if He sees proper can so order His providence as to keep us here. His will be done." The next letter is addressed to me, but was sent to DURING THE WAR. 87 my sister at m}' request, and is dated "Allatoona Mountains, Near Nig-ht, May 22nd." He writes : "Oh, it g-rieved my very soul when coming- through the beautiful Oothcalog-a valley, to think of the sad fate which awaited it when the foul invader should occupy that 'vale of beauty.' We formed line of battle at the creek, at the old Kads place ; our brigade was to the left as you go up to Mr. Law's old place on the hill, where we stayed once when pa was sick. Right here, with a thousand dear recollections of by-gone days crowding my mind, in the valley of my boyhood, I felt as if I could hurl a host back. We fought them and whipped them, until, being flanked, we were com- pelled to fall back. We fought them again at Cass Station, driving them in our front, but, as before, and for the same reason, we were compelled to retreat. * * * * * * "As I am requested to hold prayer-meeting this evening at sunset, I must close." Thomie's next letter in this collection is addressed to his sister Missouri, who had returned home, and is headed, simply, "Army of Tennessee, May 31st." It is written in a round, legible, but somewhat delicate hand, and gives no evidence of nervousness or hurry. To those fond of war history, it will be of special in- terest : "Our brigade, in fact our division, is in a more quiet place now than since the commencement of this cam- paign. We were ordered from the battlefield on Sun- day morning to go and take position in supporting distance of the left wing of the arm}^ where we ar- rived about the middle of the forenoon, and remained 88 LIFE IN DIXIE there until yesterday evening*, when our division was ordered back in rear of the left centre, where we are now. Contrary to all expectations, we have remained here perfectly quiet, there being- no heavy demonstra- tion by the enemy on either wing-. We were very tired, and this rest has been a g-reat help to us; for being- a re- serve and flanking- division, we have had to trot from one end of the wing- of the army to the other, and support other troops. ^ ^ ;{: ^ ^ ;iJ "Well, perhaps 3'ou would like to hear something- from me of the battle of New Hope Church, on Friday evening-, 27th inst. We had been, since the da}^ be- fore, supporting- some other troops about the centre of the rig-ht wing-, when, I suppose about 2 o'clock, we were hurried off to the extreme rig-ht to meet a heavy force of the enemy tr34n^ to turn our rig-ht. A few min- utes later the whole army mig-ht now have been in the vicinity of Atlanta, but, as it was, we arrived in the nick of time, for before we were properly formed the enemy were firing- into us rapidly. We fronted to them, however, and, then commenced one of the hottest eng-ag-ements, so far, of this campaig-n. We had no support, and just one sing-le line ag-ainst a whole corps of the enem}^, and a lieutenant of the 19th Arkansas, wounded and captured by them, and subsequently re- taken by our brig-ade, stated that another corps of the enemy came up about sundown. The fig-hting- of our men, to those who admire warfare, was mag-nificent. You could see a pleasant smile playing- upon the countenances of many of the men, as they would cry out to the Yankees, ' Come on, we are demoralized !' DVBING THE WAR. 89 "One little incident rig-ht here, so characteristic of the man. Major Kennard (of whom I have told you often, lately promoted), was, as usual, encourag-ing- the men by his battle-cry of, 'Put your trust in God, men, for He is with us,' but concluding- to talk to the Yankees awhile, san^ out to them, ' Come on, we are demoral- ized,' when the Major was pretty severely wounded in the head, thoug-h not seriously; raising- himself up, he said: " 'Boys, I told them a lie, and I believe that is the reason I g-ot shot.' "The lig-h ting- was very close and desperate, and lasted until after dark. About 11 o'clock at night, three reg-iments of our brig-ade charg-ed the enemy, our reg-iment among- them. We went over ravines, rocks, almost precipices, running- the enemy entirely off the field. We captured many prisoners, and all of their dead and many of their wounded fell into our hands. This charg-e was a desperate and reckless thing-, and if the enemy had made any resistance they could have cut us all to pieces. I hurt my leg- slig-htly in falling- down a cliff of rocks, and when we started back to our orig-inal line of battle I thoug-ht I would g-o back alone and pick my way; so I bore off to the left, got lost, and completely bewildered between two armies. I copy from my journal: " 'Here I was, alone in the darkness of midnight, with the wounded, the dying, the dead. What an hour of horror! I hope never again to experience such. I am not superstitious, but the great excitement of seven hours of fierce conflict, ending with a bold, and I might say reckless, charge — for we knew not what 90 LIFE IN DIXIE was in our front — and then left entirely alone, causes a mental and physical depression that for one to fully appreciate he must be surrounded by the same circum- stances. My feeling's in battle were nothing- to com- pare to this hour. After g"oing first one way and then another, and not bettering my case, I heard some one slipping along in the bushes. I commanded him to halt, and inquired what regiment he belonged to, and was answered, ' 15th Wisconsin,' so I took Mr. Wis- consin in, and ordered him to march before me — a nice pickle for me then, had a prisoner and did not know where to go. Moved on, however, and finally heard some more men walking, hailed them, for I had become desperate, and was answered, ' Mississippians.' Oh, how glad I was! The moon at this time was just rising-, and, casting her pale silver}^ rays through the dense woods, made ever^^ tree and shrub look like a spectre. ^^ saw a tall, muscular Federal l^'ing dead and the moonlight shining in his face. His eyes were open and seemed to be riveted on me. I could not help but shudder. I soon found my regiment, and ' Richard was himself again.' "I. went out again to see if I could do anything for their wounded. Soon found one with his leg shot through, whom I told we would take care of. An- other, shot in the head, was cr^dng out continually; ' Oh, my God ! oh, my God ! !' I asked him if we could do anything for him, but he replied that it would be of no use. I told him God would have mercy upon him, but his mind seemed to be wandering. I could not have him taken care of that night, and, poor fel- low, there he lay all night. #?*^. DVBING THE WAB. 91 " The next morning- 1 had the privileg-e of walking over the whole ground, and such a scene ! Here lay the wounded, the dying, and the dead, hundreds upon hundreds, in every conceivable position ; some with contorted features, showing the agony of death, others as if quietly sleeping. I noticed some soft beardless faces which ill comported with the savage warfare in which they had been engaged. Hundreds of letters from mothers, sisters, and friends were found upon them, and ambrotypes, taken singly and in groups. Though they had been my enemies, my heart bled at the sickening scene. The wounded nearly all expressed themselves tired of the war. " For the numbers engaged upon our side, it is said to be the greatest slaughter of the enemy of any recent battle. Captain Hearne, the old adjutant of our reg- iment, was killed. Eight of our regiment were in. stantly killed; two mortally wounded, since dead. " I did not think of writing so much when I began, but it is the first opportunity of writing anything like a letter that I have had. Lieutenant McMurray is now in charge of the Texas hospital at Auburn, Ala- bama. >K * * * * * "Well, you are now Aunt Missouri. Oh, that I could see my boy ! Heaven has protected me thus far and I hope that God will consider me through this dreadful ordeal, and protect me for Christ's sake ; not that there is any merit that I can offer, but I do hope to live that I may be an humble instrument in the hands of my God to lead others to Him. I hold prayer in our company nearly every night when circumstances 92 LIFE IN DIXIE will permit, and the men don't g-o to sleep before we are quiet. Poor fellows, thej are ever willing- to join me, but often are so wearied I dislike to interrupt them. " My sister, let our trust be confidently in God. He can save or He can destroy. Let us pray Him for peace. He can g-ive it us ; not pray as if we were making- an experiment, but pray believing- God will answer our prayers, for we have much to pray for." My sister subsequently copied into her journal the following- extract, taken from his, and written soon after the Battle of New Hope Church : "May 31st, 1864.— Here we rest by a little mur- muring- brook, sing-ing- along- as if the whole world was at peace. I lay down last nig-ht and g-azed away up in the peaceful heavens. All was quiet and serene up there, and the stars seemed to vie with each other in brightness and were fulfilling- their allotted destiny. My comrades all asleep ; nothing- breaks the silence. I leave earth for a time, and soar upon *imag-ination's wing-s' far away from this war-accursed land to where brig-ht ang-els sing- their everlasting- song-s of peace and strike their harps along- the g-olden streets of the New Jerusalem, and the swelling- music bursts with sweet accord throug-hout vast Heaven's eternal space !" Ag-ain on Sabbath, June 5th, he writes: "No music of church bells is heard today summoning* God's people to worship where the gospel is wont to be heard. We are near a large log church called Gil gal. What a different scene is presented to-day from a Sab- bath four years ago when the aged minister of God read to a large and attentive congregation: "The DUBING THE WAR. 93 Lord is tti}^ shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in g-reen pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters." O, God, wilt thou not inter- pose Thy strong- arm to stop the bloody strife ? Wilt Thou not hear the prayers of Thy people who daily say, Lord, g^ive us peace? The Lord will answer, and soon white-robed peace will smile upon our unhappy countr}-. O God, hasten the day, for we are sorely vexed, and thine shall be all the g•lor3^''' Ere peace was to dawn upon his beloved country, his own soul was to find it throug-h the portals of death ; but ere that time, save a brief interval of en- forced rest, weary marching's and heart-breaking- scenes and sorrows were to intervene. Thomie's next letter is dated " In the Field, near Lost Mountain, June 14th," and the next "In the Ditches, June 22nd, 1864." The next, "Near Chatta- hoochee River, July f)th, 1864," tells of the retreat of the army from Kennesaw Mountain to Smyrna Church, and of his coming- off safely from another "small fig-ht" the day before, in which several of his comrades were killed. Owing- to nervous prostration, and other illness, Thomie was soon after sent to the hospital at Macon, transferred from there to Aug-usta, and from the latter point g-iven leave of absence to visit his sister, who had found refug-e with her cousin, Mrs. T. J. Hills- man, a daug-hter of Rev. Wm. II. Stokes of blessed memory. Here, with his father's kindred, cheered by beautiful hospitality and cousinly affection, our darling- brother enjoyed the last sweet rest and quiet earth was e'er to g-ive him before he slept beneath its sod. 94 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER X. A visit to Dalton — The fidelity of an old-time slave. "From Atlanta to Dalton, $7.75. From the 23d to the 26th of April, 1864, to Mrs. John Reynolds, for board, $20.00. From Dalton to Decatur, $8.00." The above statement of the expense attending* a round trip to Dalton, Georg-ia, is an excerpt from a book which contains a record of every item of my expenditures for the year 1864. This trip was taken for the purpose of carrying- provisions and articles of clothing- to my brother and his comrades in General Joseph E. Johnston's com- mand. In vain had our mother tried to send appetiz- ing- baskets of food to her son, whose soldier rations consisted of salty bacon and hard tack ; some disaster, real or imag-inary, always occurred to prevent them from reaching- their destination, and it was, therefore, determined at home that I should carry the next con- sig-nment. After several days' preparation, jug-s were filled with g-ood sorg-hum syrup, and baskets with bread, pies, cakes and other edibles at our command, and sacks of potatoes, onions and peppers were included. My fond and loving- mother and I, and our faithful aid-de-camps of African descent, conveyed them to the depot. In those da3^s the depot was a favorite resort DURING THE WAE. 95 with the ladies and chiklren of Decatur. There they always heard something- from the front — wherever that mig-ht be. The oblig-ing- ag-ent had a wa}^ all his own, of acquiring- information from the army in all its varied commands, and dealt it out g-alore to the encourag-ement or discourag-ement of his auditors, as his prejudices or partialities prompted. On this occa- sion many had g-one there, who, like myself, were g-oing- to take the train for Atlanta, and in the interim were eag-er to hear everything- of a hopeful character, even thoug-h reason urged that it was hoping- ag-ainst hope. I was the cynosure of all eyes, as I was g'oing- to " the front;" and every mother who had a darling- son in that branch of the arm}^ hoped that he would be the first to g-reet me on my arrival there, and g-ive me a messag-e for her. And I am sure, if the love consig-ned to me for transmission could have assumed tang-ible form and weig-ht, it would have been more than four- teen tons to the square inch. Helpful, willing- hands deposited with care m}- well-labeled jug-s, baskets, etc., and I deposited m3^self with equal care in an already well-filled coach on the Georg-ia Railroad. Arrived in Atlanta I surrepti- tiously stowed the jug-s in the car with me, and then asked the baggag-e-master to transfer the provisions to a Dalton freight train. Without seeming to do so, I watched his every movement until I saw the last article safely placed in the car, and then I went aboard myself. Surrounded by jugs and packages, I again became an object of interest, and soon found m3'self on familiar terms with all on board ; for were we not 96 LIFE IN DIXIE friends and kindred bound to each other b^^ the closest ties ? Every ag^e and condition of Southern life was represented in that long- train of living-, anxious freig-ht. Young- wives, with wee bit tots chape- roned b}' their mothers and sometimes by their g-rand- mothers, were g'oing- to see their husbands, for, per- haps, the last time on earth; and mothers, feeling- that another fond embrace of their sons would palliate the sting- of final separation. The poor man and the rich man, fathers alike of men fig-hting- the same bat- tles in defense of the g-randest principle that ever inspired mortal man to combat, on their wa}^ to see those men and leave their benedictions with them; and sisters, solitary and alone, g'oing to see their beloved brothers and assure them once more of the purest and most disinterested love that ever found lodg-ment in the human heart. Many and pleasant were the brief conversations between those dissimilar in manners, habits and conditions in life; the g-reat bond connecting them rendered every other considera- tion subordinate, and the rich and poor, the educated and ig-norant, met and ming-led in harmonious inter- course. Those were da^^s of slow travel in the South. The roads were literally blockaded with chartered cars, which contained the household g-oods of refug-ees who had fled from the wrath and vandalism of the enemy, and not unfrequently refug-ees themselves inhabited cars that seemed in fearful proximity to dang-er. Ample opportunity of observation on either side was furnished by this slow travel, and never did the fine, arable lands bordering- the Western & Atlantic road DTJRINQ THE WAB. 97 from the Chattahoochee river to Dalton g-ive g-reater promise of cereals, and trees in large variet}^ were lit- erally abloom with embryo fruit. Alas ! that such a land should be destined to fall into the hands of despoilers. At Dalton I went immediately to the agent at the depot, whom I found to be my old friend, John Rey- nolds, for the purpose of g-etting" information regard- ing- boarding- houses. He told me his wife was in that line and would accommodate me, and, to render the application more easy, he gave me a note of intro- duction to her. A beautiful, well-furnished room was g-iven me, and a luscious supper possessed exhilarating proper- ties. In the meantime, Mr. Reynolds had, at my request, notified my brother, whom he knew, of my presence in his house, and I awaited his coming anxiously; but I was disappointed. A soldier's time is not his own, even in seasons of tranquility, and he was on duty and could not come then, but he assured me on a small scrap of paper, torn from his note-book, that he would come as soon as he could get off "tomorrow morning." The waiting seemed ver}- long, and yet it had its ending. The night was succeeded by a typical April day, replete with sunshine and shower, and the hopes and fears of a people struggling for right over wrong. At length the cheery voice of him, who always had a pleasant word for every one, greeted me, and I hast- ened to meet him. That we might be quiet and undisturbed, I conducted him to my room, and a long and pleasant conversation ensued. I wish I had time 98 LIFE IN DIXIE and space to recapitulate the conversation; for its every word and intonation are preserved in the archives of memory, and will enter the g-rand eternities with me as free from discord as when first uttered. Our moth- er's failing- health g-ave him concern, but his firm reliance in Him who doeth all thing's well, quieted his sad foreboding's and led the way to pleasanter themes. He loved to dwell upon the quaint and innocent peculiarities of his young'er sister, and, as for his older one, it was very evident that he reg'arded her fully strong- enoug"h to "tote her own skillet," and "paddle her own canoe." A rap upon the door indicated that some one wished to see either one or the other of us. I responded, and was met by a neg'ro boy bearing- a huge waiter, evidently well-filled, and covered over with a snow-white cloth. The aroma from that waiter would have made a mummy smile. I had it put upon a table, and then I removed the cover, and saw with g'ratification the squab pie which I had ordered for dear Thomie, and a g'reater g-ratification awaited me, /. e.^ seeing- him eat it with a relish. Nor was the pie the only luxury in that waiter. Fresh butter and but- termilk, and a pone of g'ood corn bread, etc., etc., sup- plemented by baked apples and cream and sug-ar. "Come, dear Thomie, and let us eat tog-ether once more," was my invitation to that dinner, and radiant with thanks he took the seat I offered him. I did not have the Christian courag-e to ask him to invoke a bless- ing- upon this excellent food, but I saw that one was asked in silence, nevertheless, and I am sure that an invocation went up from my own heart none the less sincere. DURING THE WAR. 99 "Sister, I appreciate this compliment," he said. "I could do nothing- that would compliment you, Thomie," I answered, and added, "I hope jou will enjoy 3^our dinner as a love offering- from me." We ling-ered long- around that little table, and man}^ topics were touched upon during- that period. After dinner I asked Thomie to lie down and rest awhile. He thanked me, and said that the bed would tempt an anchorite to peaceful slumber, and he could not resist its wooing-s. A few minutes after he lay down he was sound asleep, He slept as a child — calm and peaceful. That a fly mig-ht not disturb him, I improvised a brush — m^- handkerchief and a tender twig- from a tree near b}- being- the component parts. As I sat by him and studied his manly young- face, and read its expression of g-ood will to all mankind, I wept to think that God had possibly required him as our sacrifice upon the altar of our countr3\ The slanting- rays of the Western sun fell full and radiant upon his placid face, and awakened him from this long- and quiet slumber. With a smile he arose and said : "This won't do for me." Hasty good-byes and a fervent "God bless 3^ou" were uttered, and another one of the few parting's that remained to be taken took place between the soldier and his sister. The ddij was brig-ht and exhilarating-, in the month of June, 1864. Gay laug-hing- Flora had tripped over woodland and lawn and scattered with prodig-al hands flowers of every hue and frag-rance, and the balmy 100 LIFE IN DIXIE atmosphere of early summer was redolent with their sweet perfume; and all nature, animate and inanimate, seemed imbued with the spirit of adoration towards the Giver of these perfect works. Althoug-h man}^ hearts had been saddened bj the mig-hty conflict being- wag"ed for the supremacy of Constitutional rig-hts, there were yet in Decatur a larg^e number to whom personal sorrow for personal bereavement had not come, and they were in sympathy with this beautiful scene, whose brilliant tints were but the reflection of divine g"lory, and whose faintest odor was distilled in the alchemy of heaven. I was contemplating- this scene in g-rateful admira- tion, and blended with m}^ thoughts came the memory of m}^ brother, who was in the foremost ranks of the contest. He, too, loved the beautiful and the g"ood, and "looked from nature up to nature's God." All unconsciously I found myself plucking- his favorite flowers, and arrang-ing- a choice boquet, a spirit offer- ing to him who might even then be hovering over me and preparing my mind for the sad denouement. With these reflections, I ascended the steps of my cottage home, and turned to take another look upon the en- chanting scene, when I saw, approaching, one of my mother's faithful servants, who was hired to Dr. Taylor, a well-known druggist of Atlanta. Kver ap- prehensive of evil tidings from " the front," and " the front" being the portion of the army that embraced my brother, I was almost paralyzed. I stood as if riv- eted to the floor, and awaited developments. King, for that was the name of the ebony-hued and faithful servant whose unexpected appearance had caused such DURING THE WAR. 101 a heart-flutter, came nearer and nearer. On his ap- proach I asked in husky voice, " Have you heard any- thing- from 3^our Marse Thomie, King- ?" " No, ma'am ; have you ?" The lig-ht of heaven seemed to dispel the dark clouds which had g-athered over and around my hori- zon, and I remembered my duty to one, who, thoug-h in a menial position, had doubtless come on some kind errand. "Come in. King-, and sit down and rest yourself," I said, pointing- to an easy chair on the portico. "I am not tired. Miss Mary, and would rather stand," he replied. And he did stand, with his hat in his hand ; and I thoug-ht for the first time in my life, probably, that he evinced a true manhood, worthy of Caucasian lin- eag-e ; not that there was a drop of Caucasian blood in his veins, for he was a perfect specimen of the Afri- can race and as black as Krebus. The suspense was becoming- painful, when it was broken by King- asking- : " Miss Mary, is Miss Polly at home ?" " Yes, King-, and I will tell her you are here." "Miss Polly," my mother and King-'s mistress, soon appeared and g-ave him a g-enuine welcome. King- now lost no time in making known the object of his visit, and thus announced it : "Miss Polly, don't you want to sell me ?" " No ; why do you ask ?" "Because, Miss Poll}^ Mr. Johnson wants to buy me, and he got me to come to see you and ask you if you would sell me." 102 LIFE IN DIXIE " Do you want me to sell you, King- ? Would you rather belong- to Mr. Johnson than me ?" "Now, Miss Polly, you come to the point, and I am g-oing to try to answer it. I love you, and you have always been a good mistuss to us all, and I don't think there is one of us that would rather belong to some one else ; but I tell you how it is, Miss Polly, and you musn't g-et mad with me for saying it ; when this war is over none of us are going to belong to 3^ou. We'll all be free, and I would a g-reat deal rather Mr. Johnson would lose me than 3^ou. He is always brag- ging" about what he will do ; hear him talk, you would think he was a bigger man than Mr. Lincoln is, and had more to back him ; but I think he's a mighty lit- tle man myself, and I want him to lose me. He says he'll give you his little old store on Peachtree street for me. It don't mean much, I know, but, much or little, it's going to be more than me after the war." And thus this unlettered man, who in the ordinary acceptation of the term had never known what it was to be free, argued with his mistress the importance of the exchange of property of which he himself was a part, for her benefit and that of her children. "Remember, Miss Poll}-," he said, "that when Marse Thomie comes out of the war, it will be mighty nice for him to have a store of his own to commence business in, and if I was in j^our place I would take it for me, for I tell you again. Miss Polly, when the war's over we'll all be free." But the good mistress, who had listened in silence to these arguments, was unmoved. She saw before her a man who had been born a slave in her family, DURING THE WAB. 103 and who had grown to man's estate under the foster- ing care of slavery, whose high sense of honor and g-ratitude constrained him to g-ive advice intelligently, which, if followed, would rescue her and her children from impending adversit}^ ; but she determined not to take it. She preferred rather to trust their future well-being- into the hands of Providence. Her beauti- ful faith found expression in this consoling passage of Scripture: " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." And this blessed assurance must have deter- mined her to pursue the course she did, else it would have been reckless and improvident. She told King that when our people became convinced that the trou- bles between the South and North had to be settled by the sword, that she, in common with all good citizens, staked her all upon the issues of the war, and that she would not now, like a coward, flee from them, or seek to avert them by selling a man, or men and women who had endeared themselves to her by ser- vice and fidelity. 104 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XI. A PERILOUS TRUST. "It is most time to go to the post-office, ain't it, Miss Mary ? We are going" to get a letter from Marse Tliomie this morning." "What makes you so certain of it, Toby ?" " I don't know'm, but I am ; and every time I feels this way, I gets one ; so I'll just take my two little black calves and trot off to the office and get it ;" and suiting the action to the word he struck a pretty brisk gait and was soon around the corner and out of sight. Then Decatur received but two mails per day — one from an easterly direction and the other from a west- erly direction. The northern, northwestern, south- ern and southwestern, all coming in on the morning's Georgia Railroad train. Therefore ever since Thomie's return to his command, the western mail was the one around which our hopes and fears daily clustered. General Joseph E. Johnston's army was, at the time of this incident, at Dalton, obstructing the advance of Sherman's " three hundred thousand men " on destruc- tion bent. And though there had been no regular line of battle formed for some time by the Confederate and Federal forces, there were frequent skirmishes, disastrous alike to both sides. Hence the daily alter- DURING THE WAIL 105 nation of hopes and fears in the hearts of those whose principal occupation was waiting- and watching- for "news from the front." The team of which Toby was the proud possessor did its work quickly, and in less time than it takes to tell it he appeared in sig-ht, returning- from the post- office — one hand clasping a packag-e of papers and let- ters, and the other, raised hig-h above his head, hold- ing- a letter. I could not wait, and ran to meet him. " I've g-ot a whole lot of letters, and every one of them is from Dalton, and this one is from Marse Thomie !" Toby had read the Dalton post-mark, and had made a correct statement. The well-known chirog-ra- phy of my brother had become so familiar to him that he never mistook it for another, and was unerring- in his declarations reg-arding- it. On this occasion Thomie's letter thus read : " My Dear Sister : — Those acquainted with army tactics know that General Johnston is on the eve of an important move, or chang-e of base ; and that it should be the effort of the men, officers and privates, to be prepared to make the chang-e, whatever it may be, with as little loss of army paraphernalia as possible. As the Confederate army has no repository secure from the approach of the enemy, several of our friends sug- g-est that you mig-ht be willing- to take care of any- thing- which we mig-ht send to you, that would be of future use to us — heavy overcoats, extra blankets, etc., etc. Consider well the proposition before you consent. Should they be found in your possession, by the enemy, then our home might be demolished, and 106 LIFE IN DIXIE you perhaps imprisoned, or killed upon the spot. Are you willing- to take the risk, trusting- to your ingenu- ity and bravery to meet the consequences ? Let me know as soon as possible, as war times admit of little delay. General Granbury, Colonel Bob Young-, and others may make known to you their wishes by per- sonal correspondence. Love to my mother and sister, and to yourself, brave heart. Affectionately, your brother T. J. Stokes." This letter was read aloud to m}' mother, and the faithful mail carrier was not excluded. She listened and weig-hed every word of its contents. For several moments a silence reig-ned, which was broken by her asking me what I was going to do in the matter. " What would jou. have me do?" I asked in reply. "What would they do, Mary, in very cold weather, if they should lose their winter clothing, overcoats and blankets, now that supplies are so difficult to obtain ? " This question, evasive as it was, convinced me that my mother's patriotism was fully adequate to the occasion, and, fraught with peril as it might be, she was willing to bear her part of the consequences of taking- care of the soldiers' clothes. The return mail bore the following letter addressed jointly to General Granbury, Colonel Robert Young, Captains Lauderdale and Formwalt, Lieutenant Stokes, and Major John Y. Rankin ; "My Dear Brother and Friends :■ — I thank you for the estimate you have placed upon my character and patriotism, as indicated by your request that I nUBlKG THE WAR. 107 should take care of your overcoats, blankets, etc., until you need them. If I were willing to enjoy the fruits of your valor and sacrifices without also being- willing- to share 3^our perils, I would be unworthy indeed. Yes, if I knew that for taking- care of those thing-s, I would subject m3'Self to real dang-er, I would essay the duty. Send them on. I will meet them in Atlanta, and see that they continue their journey to Decatur without delay. Your friend, M. A. H. G." Another mail brought intelligence of the shipment of the goods, and I lost no time in going to Atlanta and having them re-shipped to Decatur. There were nine large dry goods boxes, cind I went, immediately on their arrival, to Mr. E. Mason's and engaged his two-horse wagon and driver to carry them from the depot to our home. When they were brought, we had them placed in our company dining-room. This room, by a sort of tacit understanding, had become a store- room for the army before this important lot of goods came, and, as a dining-room, much incongruity of furniture existed, among which was a large, high wardrobe. The blinds were now closed and secured, the sash put down and fastened, the doors shut and locked, and this room given up to the occupancy of Confederate articles ; and thus it remained during the eventful period intervening between th'e departure of General Joseph E. Johnston's army from Dalton, and Sherman's infamous order to the people of Atlanta and vicinity to leave their homes, that they might be destroyed by his vandal hordes. 108 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XII. A SCENE IN AN ATLANTA CONFEDERATE HOSPITAL. " Well, my boy, our patients are all g^etting- along- nicel}^ in the Fair Ground hospital," was the comfort- ing" assurance I g-ave to Toby, who was my faithful co-worker in all that pertained to the comfort of our soldiers. "Suppose we go to the Empire hospital and see what we can do there." " Yes'm, I have always wanted to go there." Taking one of the baskets we had brought with us from Decatur, and which contained biscuits, rusk, broiled and fried chicken, ground coffee and blackberry wine, I handed it to him and we wended our way to the hospital. Things were not in as good shape there as at the Fair Ground hospital. I perceived this at a glance, and, upon asking and receiving permission from the superintendent, I soon tidied up things considerably. Toby brought pails of fresh water, and aided in bathing the faces, hands and arms of the convalescing soldiers, while I hunted up the soldier lads who ought to have been at home with their mothers, and bestowed the tender loving service that woman only can give to the sick and suffering. Entering one of the wards I perceived a youth, or one I took to be a 3^outh, from his slender fragile figure, and his beardless face, lean and swarthy in sickness, but beautiful in its fine texture and the DURING THE WAR. 109 marblelike whiteness of the brow. That he was of French extraction there could be no doubt. Quietly kneeling- by the side of his cot, I contemplated his face, his head, his iig-ure — I listened to his breathing", and watched the pulsations of his heart, and knew that his days, yea, his hours were numbered. Taking- his hand in mine, I perceived that the little vitality that remained was fast burning- up with fever. Putting- back the beautiful ring-s of raven hair that lay in disheveled clusters over his classic head, and partly concealed his white brow, I thoug-ht of his mother, and imprinted upon his forehead a kiss for her sake. The deep slumber induced by anodynes was broken by that touch, and a dazed awakening- ensued. " Mother," was his pathetic and only utter- ance. " What can I do for you, my dear child ?" There are looks and tones which are never forgot- ten, and never shall I forg-et the utter despair in the eyes, lustrous and beautiful enough to look upon the glory of heaven, and the anguish of the voice, musical enough to sing the songs of everlasting bliss, as he said in tremulous tone and broken sentences: " I want to see a Catholic priest. I have paid sev- eral men to go for me. They have gone off and never returned. I have no money with which to pay any one else." In silence I listened and wept. At length I said: " My dear young friend, can you not make confes- sion to 'our Father which art in Heaven,' and ask Him for Christ's sake to absolve you from all sins of which you may think yourself guilty ? He 110 LIFE IN DIXIE will do it without the intervention of a priest, if jou will only believe on Him and trust Him. Can jou not do this ?" The pencil of Raphael would fail to depict the an- g-uish of his face ; all hope left it, and, as he turned his despairing- look upon the wall, tear drops glisten- ed in his eyes and filled the sunken hollows beneath them. Ag-ain I took his passive hand in mine, and with the other hand upon his white forehead, I told him he should see a priest — that I myself would g-o for one, and just as soon as he could be found I would return with him. Before leaving-, however, I went to the ward where I had left Toby and the basket, and filling- a little g-lass with wine, I brought it to the sinking- youth. He could not be induced to taste it. In vain I plead with him, and told him that it would streng-then him for the interview with the priest. " I am g"oing- now, and will come back, too, as soon as I can," I said to the dying- youth, for to all intents and purposes he was dying- then. Seeing- the other patients watching- my every movement with pathetic interest, I was reminded to g'ive the rejected wine to the weakest looking one of them. Leaving Toby either to wait on, or amuse the soldiers of the ward first entered (where I found him playing the latter role, much to their delight), with hasty steps I went to the Catholic parsonage on Hunter street. In response to my ring the door was opened by an Irish woman from whom I learned that the priest was not in, and would not be until he came to luncheon at 12 o'clock M. It was then 11 o'clock, and I asked the privilege of waiting in the sitting DUBIXG THE WAR. Ill room until he came. This being- granted, I entered the room consecrated to celibacy, and perhaps to holy thoug-hts, judg-ing- from the pictures upon the walls and the other ornaments. These thing-s furnished food for reflection, and the waiting* would not have seemed so long- but for the thoug-ht of the poor suffer- ing one who had g-iven his young- life for our cause. Intuitiv^ely I knew the sound of clerical footsteps as they entered the hall, and hastening- to meet him I asked, " Is this Father O'Riley?" Receiving- an affirmative answer, I told him of the youth at the Empire hospital who refused to be comforted other than b}^ a Catholic priest, and of my promise to bring- one to him. Father O'Riley said he had been out since early morning-, visiting- the sick, and would be oblig-ed to refresh himself, both by food and repose, but that I could say to the young- man that he would be there by 3 o'clock. " O, sir, 3^ou don't realize the importance of haste. Please let me remain in your sitting- room until you have eaten your luncheon, and then I know you will g-o with me. I, too, have been out ever since early morning- eng-ag-ed in the same Christ-like labors as yourself, and I do not require either food or repose." My earnestness prevailed, and in a short while we were at our destination. At my request. Father O'Riley waited in the passage-way leading to the ward until I went in to prepare the young man for his coming. I found him in that restless condition, neither awake nor asleep, which often precedes the deep sleep that knows no waking. Wetting my hand- kerchief with cold water, I bathed his face and hands, 112 LIFE IJSr DIXIE and spoke g-ently to him, and, when he seemed sufS- cientl}^ aroused to understand me, I told him in cheer- ful tones that he could not g-uess who had come to see him. Catching- his look of inquiry, I told him it was Father O'Riley, and that I would bring- him in. Opening- the door, I motioned to Father O'Riley to follow me. The dying- youth and the Catholic priest needed no introduction by me. There was a mystic tie between them that I recog-nized as sacred, and I left them alone. Telling- Father O'Riley that I con- sig-ned my charg-e to him, and that I would come back to-morrow, I bade them g-ood-bye and left. The contents of the basket had been gratefully re- ceived and devoured by those who deserved the best in the land, because they were the land's defenders. To-morrow Toby and I, and the basket, were at the Empire hospital in due time, but the poor suffer- ing- youth was not there. The emancipated spirit had taken its fiig-ht to Heaven, and all that was mor- tal of that brave young soldier had been consigned by the ceremonies of the church he loved so well to the protecting care of mother earth. DURING THE WAIi. 11; CHAPTER XIII. Concealing- Confederate Clothing — Valuables Cari'ied to At- lanta—Toby Taken 111. 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 g"ood neg^ro 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 Chatta- hoochee." "Why, no !" I said, and added with as much calm- ness 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 eleg-ant, that evil should overtake them before g-etting- 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 accoutre- ments 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 to an- 114 LIFE IN DIXIE swer. An attempt to retain and defend them would be futile indeed. And I have no rig-ht to jeopardize my mother's home by a rash effort to accomplish an impossibilty. But what shall I do with these precious thing's, is the question. A happy thoug-ht struck me, and I pursued it only to find it delusive. The near ap- proach of Sherman's army developed the astounding fact that Dr. A. Holmes, of Decatur, a Baptist minis- ter 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 g"ospel, 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 alleg-iance to the United States." " Why, Dr. Holmes! " I said, in unfeig-ned surprise. "I repeat most emphatically that I have remained unshaken in my alleg-iance to the United States. I have no respect for a little contemptible Southern Confederacy, whose flag will never be recog-nized 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 hear nUBINQ THE WAli. 115 such chang*ed utterances from him now, pained me exceeding-ly. Heartsore and discourag-ed, I turned from him, and was leaving- without the usual cere- mony, when he said : "What can I do for you? " "I came, sir, to ask a g-reat 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 re- quired 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 m}^ 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 mi^ht have his price, or be intimida- ted by threats into the betrayal of our secret; hence the manag-ement as above related to g-et him off the place while I consummated a plan, which, if success- ful, would be a g-reat achievement, but, if a failure, would be fraug-ht with disaster. In those da3^s "the depot" was a place of popular resort— it was the emporium of news; and either from the ag-ent, or from the Confederate scouts that were ever and anon dash- ing- throug-h Decatur with cheerful messag-es and words of hope, the anxious mothers and sisters of the soldiers often wended their way there in hope of hearingf somethino- from their loved ones. Therefore no suspicion was aroused by this g*oing- to the depot. 116 LIFE IN DIXIE Watching the receding- form of mj 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 win- ter clothing, blankets, etc., already mentioned as hav- ing been sent for storage by our soldier friends at Dal- ton, and told her in pantomime that the Yankees were coming, and if they saw these things they would kill us and burn the house. She fully understood and re- peated the pantomime illustrative of possible — 3^ea, 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 sus- picion of recent use, so from that source we had noth- ing to fear. Telitha again in the house, shutters closed, and sash down, preparation was resumed for the en- actment 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 its DURING THE WAR. 117 contents, and inch b}- inch placed as near the center of the room as possible ; then a larg-e table was placed be- side it, and a chair upon that ; and then with the help of another chair, which served as a step, I g-ot upon the table and then upon the chair that was upon the table. As I went up, Telitha followed ; standing- upon the table she g-rasped the wardrobe with her strong- hands and held it securel}' . I ascended from the chair to the top of it, stood up and steadied myself, and waited, immovable as a statue, until she g-ot down and broug-ht 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 straig-htened and steadied myself ag-ain. The chisel touched the plastered ceiling- and the h^im- mering- beg-an. Very slow work it was at first, as the licks had to be upward instead of downward, and the plastering- was verj^ thick. Finally the chisel went throug-h and was withdrawn and moved to another place, and by repeated efforts I secured an aperture large enoug-h to insert my fing-ers, and a few well- directed licks round and about so cracked and weak- ened the plastering- that I was enabled to pull of some larg-e pieces. A new difficulty presented itself. The laths were long-, much long-er than those of the pres- ent 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 this pur- 118 LIFE IN DIXIE pose, across the joists, and made a floor upon which to lay the g-oods more than once specified in these sketches. When the last article had been laid on this improvised shelf, I g^azed upon them in silent anguish and wept. Telitha caug-ht the melancholy inspira- tion and also wept. Kach 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 fig-hting- 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 frag-rance, and when I was fully persuaded that no spy was lurking nigh I re-entered the house and locked the door. Picking up the larg-est vessel, and motioning Telitha to follow suit, I led the way throug-h a back door to a hug-e 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 every- thing- 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 chang-e, he never betrayed the knowledg-e of it by DURING THE WAB. 119 word or look. After a lig^ht breeikfast, and the excite- ment of the da}^ I felt that we oug"ht to have a g'ood, luscious dinner, and, with the help at my command, went to work preparing- it, and, as was my custom of late, I did not forg-et to provide for others who might' come in. More than once during- the day Confeder- ate scouts had g-alloped in and spoken a few words of encourag-ement ; and after taking- a drink of water from the old oaken bucket, had galloped out ag-ain, so I hoped the}^ would come back when the biscuit and tea-cakes were done, that I mig-ht 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 ag-reed 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. Kzekiel 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 activ- 120 LIFE IN DIXIE ity about 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 freig-ht, either animate or inanimate, and screamed themselves hoarse and departed, g-iving- place to others that went throug^h with the same routine. Drays and every manner of vehicles blocked the streets, and endang-ered 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. Despair- ing- of aid, I bade Toby follow me, and went to Mr. McArthur's. He and his g"ood wife were willing- to receive the trunks and give them storag-e room, but could extend no aid in bring-ing- them there. At leng-th, 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 valu- able trunk placed upon the wheelbarrow, and, with my occasional aid, Toby g-ot it to its destination. A second trip was made in like manner, and the third was not a failure, althoug-h I saw that Tob}- was very tired. Thanking- my g-ood friends for the favor they were extending-, I hurried back to the depot, myself and Toby, to take the first train to Decatur. Imag-ine our consternation on learning- that the Yankees had dashed in and torn up the Georg-ia Railroad track from At- lanta to Decatur, and were pursuing- their destructive nUBlNG THE WAE. 121 work towards Augusta. Neither for love nor money could a seat in any kind of vehicle g'oing- in that direc- tion be obtained, nor were I and my attendant tlie 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 eleg-ant spans of "little white ponies" which they did not deem too g-ood 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 bring-ing- out your little black ponies and running a race with my white ones to Decatur? Do you think 3'OU 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 alterna- tive, 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 peo- ple; and m}^ 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!" 122 LIFE IN DIXIE To my dying- da}' I shall never forg-et 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 mig-hty host to fig"ht 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 de- stroyed railroad, and were somewhere between Gen- eral 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 g-one. Once the moon revealed me so plainly that a cheer, some- what repressed, but nevertheless hearty, resounded through the woods, and I asked : "Whose command?" '•"Wheeler's Cavalr}-," was the simultaneous re- sponse of many who heard my inquiry. "Don't you know me ? I am the one 5^ou g"ave 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 g-iving- your lives for me, and the little I can do for 3^ou is nothing- in comparison. May God be with 3'ou 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, sa^dng, "What is it, my boy?" "O, Miss Mary, I am so sick. I can't g-o any fur- ther. You can g-o on home, and let me stay here — when I feel better I'll g-o too." DUBING THE WAR. 123 "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 g-o on. More than once his steps were unsteady and he looked dazed ; but under my patient g-uidance and encourag-ing- 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 g-round, asleep, all over the place ; and in most instances their horses were lying- by them, sleep- ing- 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 sup- posed that some disaster had befallen me individually. A g-ood supper, including- a strong- cup of tea prepared by her hands, awaited us, and I attested my apprecia- tion of it by eating heartily. Toby drank a cup of tea only, and said he "was very tired and hurt all over." 124 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XIV. The advance guard of the Yankee army — I am ordered out — A noble Federal. The day clear, brig-ht and beautiful, in July, 1864, and thoug-h 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 atmos- phere pure and delig-htful. Blossoms of every hue and frag-rance decked the landscape, and Ceres and Pomona had been as lavish with their g-rains and fruits as Flora had been with flowers. And I, assisted b}^ Toby and Telitha, had g-athered from the best of these rich offering's, and prepared a feast for Wheeler's Cavalry. B}^ the way, strive ag"ainst it as I would, I was more than once disturbed by the mental inquir^^ : "What has become of Wheel- er's Cavalry? I saw it enter Decatur last night, and now there is not a soldier to be seen. It is true a larg-e number of scouts came in this morning-, and spoke comforting- words to my mother, and reconnoi- tered around town fearlessly, but what has become of them?" Hope whispered: "Some strateg-ic move- ment that will culminate in the capture of the entire Yankee army, no doubt is eng-ag-ing- its attention." Yielding- to these delusive reflections, and the seduc- DURING THE WAR. 125 tive influence of earth, air and sky, I became quite exhilarated and hummed little snatches of the song's I used to sing- in the happy days of childhood, before a hope had been disappointed or a shadow cast over my pathwa}^ These scenes and these song-s 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 mus- ketry spoke in lang-uag-e unmistakable the approach of the enemy, and the rapidity of that approach was becoming- fearfully alarming-. Decatur offered many advantag-es as headquarters to an invading, devastat- ing- 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 van- dalism. "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 terrfic, 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 foot- steps. My poor mother, frightened and trembling. 126 LIFE IN DIXIE and myself, having" locked the doors of the house, took our stand with the servants in the yard, and witnessed the g"rand enlrc of the menag-erie. One of the beasts g-ot 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 w;ork, 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 ever3^thing- of value they could g-et their hands upon they stole — locks and bolts having- proved ineifectual barriers to this nefarious work. By this time the outside marauders had killed every chicken and other fowl upon the place, except one set- ting 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 oc- casional cavalryman reconnoitering-. Having sur- veyed the situation, and discovered that only women and children and a few faithful negroes occupied the town, the main armv came in like an avalanche. DURING THE WAJi. 127 Yea, if an avalanche and a simoon had blended their fury and expended it upon that defenceless locality, a greater chang-e could scarcely have been wroug-ht. The morning-'s sun had shone upon a scene of luxuriant beauty, and heig-htened its midsummer loveliness, but the same sun, only a few hours later, witnessed a complete transformation, and blight and desolation reig-ned supreme. My mother and myself, afraid to g"o in the house, still maintained our out- door position, and our two faithful servants clung- very close to us, notwithstanding- repeated efforts to induce them to leave. Our g-roup had received addi- tion. Kmmeline, a neg-ro girl whom we had hired out in Decatur, had been discharg-ed, and had now come home. She was not so faithful as her kith and kin, and was soon on familiar terms with the bum- mers. 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 aborig-inal appearance. But what mattered it — we were only rebels. Notwithstanding- the insignia of the con- queror was displayed on every hand, we felt to a certain degree more protected by the presence of com- missioned 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 what ap- 128 LIFE^ IN DIXIE peared to us to be an immense arm}- train of wag-ons commenced rolling- into it. In less than two hours our barn was demolished and converted into tents, which were occupied by privates and non-commis- sioned officers, and to the balusters of our portico and other portions of the house were tied a number of larg-e 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 troug-hs 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 hig-h carnival. Thus surrounded we could but be apprehensive of dang-er ; 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 "hurt- ing 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 elocution- ist might adopt with effect — and the burden of her heart was for Kmmeline. Kmmeline having repudi- ated our protection, had sought shelter, the Lord only knows where. Alas, poor girl ! DVRING THE WAB. 129 As we sat on a loung-e, 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 fastening-s, raised the sash, and opened the blinds. Perceiving- by the lig-ht of a brilliant moon that at least a half-dozen men in uni- forms 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 daug-hters, and two faithful servants in it," I said. "We have orders from headquarters to interview Miss Gay. Is she the daug-hter 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 dele- g-ation. "Then wait a moment," I amiably responded. Going- to my mother I repeated in substance the above colloquy, and asked her if she would g-o with me out of one of the back doors and around the house into the front yard. Althoug-h g-reatly ag-itated and trem- bling", 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 bellig-erent 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 officer 130 LIFE IX DIXIE introduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of General Schofield's staif. 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 g-overnment. If this be so, we cannot permit ^-ou 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 con- quest." In reply to these charg-es, I said : "Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so far as the charg-es you mention are concerned. If I were a man, I should be in the foremost ranks of those who are fig-hting- for rig-hts g-uaranteed by the Consti- tution of the United States. The Southern people have never broken that compact, nor infring-ed upon it in any way. They have never org-anized mobs to assassinate any portion of the people sharing- the priv- ileg-es g-ranted b}^ that compact. They have con- structed no underg-round railroads to bring- into our midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, and to carry off stolen property. They have never soug-ht to array the subordinate element of the North in DVBING THE WAB. 131 deadly hostility to the controlling- element. No class of the women of the South have ever sought positions at the North which secured entrance into g^ood house- holds, 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 humbug's, extorting* money either throug"h sympathy or credulity, and en- g-ag-ed at the same time in the nefarious work of excit- ing- the subordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine and murder. If the South is in rebellion, a well- organized mob at the North has broug-ht it about. Long years of patient endurance accomplished noth- ing-. The party founded on falsehood and hate streng-thened and g-rew to enormous proportions. And, by the way, mark the cunning- of that party. Finding- that the Abolition party made slow prog-ress and had to work in the dark, it chang-ed 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 Colleg-e, 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 all 132 LIFE IN DIXIE responsibility for the sins of which it proclaimed us g-uilty ? 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." Imag-ine my astonishment, admiration and g-rati- tude, when that g-roup of Federal officers, with unani- mit}^ said : "I g-lory in 3^our spunk, and am proud of 3^ou as my countrywoman ; and so far from banishing- you from your home, we will vote for j^our retention with- in our lines." Thus the truth prevailed ; but a new phase of the conflict was inaug-urated, as proved by subsequent developments. Turning- to my mother. Major Campbell said : "Mother, how did our advance g-uards treat you?" A quivering of the lips, and a tearful effort to speak, was all the response she could make. The ag-g-ravation of already extreme nervousness was doing- its work. "Would 3^ou 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 pre- sented 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 front DVRING THE WAR. 133 room, and there our disting-uished guests were con- fronted by a hug"e pallet occupied by a sixteen-year- old neg-ro boy. A thrill of amusement evidently passed throug-h this g-roup of western men, and elec- trical glances conveyed messages of distrust when I told them of my walk yesterday afternoon, accompa- nied 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 ques- tions, 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 treat- ment at once. I will prescribe and go for the med- icine, 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 two 134 LIFE IN DIXIE ag-o. Outrages and indig^nities too revolting- to men- tion 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 bnt the piano, and circumstances v^hich followed proved that that was regarded as a trophy and only waited re- moval. "Vandals ! Vandals !" Major Campbell sorrowfully exclaimed, and all his friends echoed the opinion, and said : " If the parties who did this work could be identi- fied, we would hang- them as high as Haman." But these parties were never identified. They were important adjuncts in the process of subjug-ation. After wishing- that the worst was over with us, these gentlemen, who had come in no friendly mood, bade us g-ood 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. J nUIUNG THE WAR. 135 CHAPTER XV. The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The Death of Toby. The excitement incident to the morning- and even- ing- of 3"esterday left my mother and myself in no frame of mind for repose, and we spent the nig-ht 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, thoug-h able to vSit 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 mig-ht have been could we have controlled him properly, but the excitement and ever-varying- scenes in the 3'ard, and as far as vision extended, were so new and strang-e 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 coug-h ensued. Having been without food since the preceding- morning-, our thoug-hts turned to the usual prepara- tion 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 seri- ous reflection, and the inquiry, " What are we to do ?" 136 LIFE IN DlilE found audible expression. The inexorable demands of hung-er could not be stifled, and we knew that the sick boj needed hot tea and the nourishment which food alone could g"ive, and jet we had nothing- for our- selves or for him — so complete had been the robbery of the " advance g-uards" of the Grand Army of the Republic that not a thin^, animate or inanimate, re- mained with which to appease our hung-er. "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 g-o 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 g-ood even in Naza- reth. A larg-e tray, evidently well-filled, and covered with a snow-white cloth, was brought in by an Irish- man, who handed a card to my mother containing these words : "To Mrs. Stokes and daug-hter. Miss Gay, with compliments of (Major) CampbeIvL. "Please accept this small testimonial of reg-ard and respectful sympathy." The latter part of the brief messag-e was the DURING THE WAll. 137 sesame that secured acceptance of this offering-, and my mother and myself jointly acknowledg-ed 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 mis- sion, 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%ny 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 mus- ketry, 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 parlor p7'o teni. — 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 ar- tillery 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 on 10 138 LIFE IN DIXIE hand. 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 excite- ment and said, " Don't be alarmed, it is only our men firing off their blank cartridges." The irony of fate was never more signally illus- trated 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. Dread- ing 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 rati to one of the parlor doors and knocked heavily and excitedly. An officer un- locked 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 pour- ing in from every direction, and the house was soon filled. Before Garrard's wagon train was three hun- dred yards awa}^ our 3^ard was full of our men — our own dear "Johnnie Rebs." Oothcaloga Valley boys, whom I had known from babyhood, kissed, in pass- DUBING THE WAB. 139 ing-, the hand that waved the handkerchief. An officer, ah, how g-rand he looked in g"ray 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." M}^ 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 flowed 140 LIFE IX DIXIE the blood of the Washing-tons, was there, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I restrained her from g-oin^ out into the arena of warfare. The traditions of her ancestors were so interwoven with her life, that, at an ag"e bordering- on four score ^^ears and ten, the}^ could not relax their hold upon her ; and she and I mig-ht have g-one 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 oc- casion. At first I could not realize what they were doing", and feared some strategic movement ; but the "rebel yell" and the flying- blue-coats broug-ht 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, ignom- iniously 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 victor3\ 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 ren- dered 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 the DUBING THE WAB. 141 story of the cross— of Jesus' dying- love, and he listened and believed. I said to him : " My boy, do you think you are g-oing- 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 g-o to heaven?" he anxiously asked. " Toby, my boy, there is one thing- I want to tell you ; can jou listen to me ?" "Yes'm." "I have not always been just to j^ou. I have often accused you of doing- thing-s that I afterwards found you did not do, and then I was not g-ood enough to ac- knowledg-e that I had done wrong-. And when you did wrong-, I was not forg-iving-enoug-h ; and more than once I have punished you for little sins, when I, with all the lig-ht before me, was committing- g-reater ones every day, and g-oing- unpunished, save by a g-uilty conscience. And now, my boy, I ask you to forg-ive me. Can you do it ?" "Oh, yes'm !" "Are you certain that you do ? Are you sure that there is no unforg-iving- 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 forg-ive you for your sins just as I have asked you to forg-ive me, and He will do it for the sake of Jesus, who died on the cross that sinners mig-ht be redeemed from their sins and live with Him in heaven." 142 LIFE IN DIXIE I can never forg-et the ineffable love, and faith, and gratitude, depicted in that poor boj's face, while I live; and as I held his soft black hand in mine, I thoug-ht of its willing- service to "our boys," and wept to think I could do no more for him, and that his young- life was g-oing- out before he knew the result of the cruel war that was wag-ed by the Abolitionists ! He noticed my g-rief, and beg-g-ed 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 g-o there and back," and I took a pitcher and ran to the spring- and filled and refilled it several times, that it mig-ht be perfectl}^ cool, and went back with it as quickly as possible. He drank a g-oblet full of this delicious water and said it was "so g-ood," and then added : "You drink some, too, Miss Mary, and g-ive Miss Polly some." I did so, and he was pleased. He coug-hed less and complained less than he had done since the chang-e for the worse, and I deluded myself into the hope that he mig-ht yet recover. In a short while he went to sleep, and his breathing- became very hard and his temperature indicated a hig-h deg-ree of fever. I urg-ed my mother to lie down, and assured her that if I thoug-ht she could do anything- for Toby at any time during- the nig-ht I would call her. DURING THE WAR. 143 I sat there alone by that dying- boy. Not a move- ment on his part betrayed pain. His breathing- was hard and at intervals spasmodic. With tender hands I chang-ed 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 g-ently and told her I thought the end was near with Toby, and hurried back to him. I thoug-ht him dead even then; but, after an interval, he breathed ag-ain and ag-ain, and all was over. The life had g-one back to the God who g-ave 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 mid- nig-ht, I ween, when death set the spirit of that youthful negro free. Not a kindred being nor a mem- ber 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 ser- vice 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?' " 144 LIFE IN DIXIE Before acting- on this suggestion I went into an- other room and waked Telitha and took her into the chamber of death. A dim and g-limmering- light pre- vented 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 piti- able, oh, so pitiable. I sank down upon the floor and waited for the par- oxysm 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 thoughout 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 orphan- age. 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-shaped DURING THE WAR. 145 coffin out of g-ood 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 g-rave 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 Tob}r's "nurses," and every consolation and blessing was besought for them. And thus our Toby received a Christian burial. 146 LIFE IN DIXIE. CHAPTER XVI. kverktt's desertion. During- the early spring- of that memorable year, 1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur that Judg-e Hook and famih% including- his accomplished daug-hter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, from Chattanoog-a, had arrived at the depot, and were dom- iciled, pro tcDi.^ in cars which had been switched off the main track of the famous old Georg-ia Railroad. This novel mode of living, even in war times, by people in their monetar}^ condition and social standing-, naturall}^ attracted much attention, and broug-ht us to a full realization of approaching- dang-er. That this family, accustomed to all the luxuries of an eleg-ant home, should live in such an abode, with its attend- ant privations, was convincing- proof that the home they had abandoned had become intolerable because of the proximity of the enemy ; and it was also fear- fully sug-g-estive that that ubiquitous enemy was ex- tending- his dominion and bringing- the fiery, bloody conflict into the very heart of the "rebellion." A rebellion, b}^ 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 mutin}- " (as that chief of South- ern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose superb ego- tism impressed him with the idea that his influence DURING THE WAR. 147 could chang-e the political trend of Great Britain towards the South, has seen proper to denominate it) in the camp of American councils brought about b}^ 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 Judg-e Hook's family was hailed with pleasure by all g-ood and loyal citizens, and was a lig-ament 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. Judg-e Hook was superintendent of the Government Iron Works, and literally broug-ht the foundr}^ as well as the operatives with him. Among- the latter was a man by the name of Kverett, who, with his family, consisting- of his wife and five children, occupied an old one-room house near a corner of our home lot. Althoug-h a heart}', hale, and rather g-ood-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 g-iven to her, for which she was extremely g-rateful. An acquaintance thus beg-un continued during- the spring- and early summer months, and there was not a da}' during- that period that my mother did not find it convenient to do something- for this family. Mrs. Everett was more than ordinarily intellig-ent for a person in her position, and the blush which mantled 148 LIFE IN DIXIE her pretty cheeks when she asked for anything be- trayed 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 Con- federate army. This circumstance endeared her very much to me ; and I made the support of his family vei}^ 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 weekl}^, 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 foundr\% and quietly, as if by magic, it and its DURING THE WAR. 149 appurtenants, under the judicious manag-ement of Judg-e Hook, g-ot on wheels and ran at the rate of thirty-five miles an hour until it reached Aug-usta — 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 chil- dren 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 Deca- tur, it obtained a recruit. In an incredibly short time, Everett was arrayed in the uniform of a Yankee pri- vate, 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 disap- peared, 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. 150 LIFE IN DIXIE The morning- after the hurried evacuation of Deca- tur by the Federal troops, I arose, as was my custom, as day was dawning-, and, as soon as I thoug-ht I could disting-uish 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, imag-ine 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 oc- curred 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 ?" DURING THE WAR. 151 " 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, thoug-h I despise you for the steps you have taken, I will g-rant 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 re- main 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 industri- ously 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 sleep- ing still, and Toby's breathing and general appear- ance 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 dining 152 LIFE IN DitlE room 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 throug-h the window blinds. Soon the loud tramping of horses' feet caused me to run ag-ain 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 demonstra- tion, however enthusiastic, could have been an exaggeration of my joy on ag-ain seeing- our men, our dear Confederate soldiers, and yet I thoug-ht of Ever- ett and trembled. " Have you seen any Bill}^ 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 yesterda3\" " How did they treat 3^ou while they were here ?" " You see the devastation of the place," I replied. "Personally we escaped violence; but I would like you to g-o 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 propert}^ 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 parting DURING THE WAB. 153 benediction. And then as if impelled by some strang-e inspiration thej galloped round to the well. I ran into the house and got several tumblers and fairl}^ 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, the}- 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 bever- age 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. Ever- ett's retreat, already mentioned. I sat down on the front doorsteps and drew from my pocket a news- 11 154 LIFE IN DIXiE paper, which chanced to be there, and commenced reading aloud. At length I saw that mj 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 tim- idly. 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 cau- tion 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 ver}^ difficult problem, and never solved with- out 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 down DURING THE WAB. 155 her 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 aban- doned 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. 156 LIFE IN DIXIE* CHAPTER XVII. A visit to Confederate lines — A narrow escape— My return — The fall of Atlanta. No news from "the front;" no tiding-s from the loved ones in gray ; no friendly spirit whispering- words of cheer or consolation. Shut up within a narrow space, and g-uarded by Federal bayonets ! not a ray of friendly lig-ht illuminated my environment. The constant roaring- of cannon and rattling- of musketry ; the thousand, yea, tens of thousands of shots blending- into one g-rand continuous whole, and reverberating- in avalanchan volume over the hills of Fulton, and the mountain heig-hts of old DeKalb — told in thunder tones of the fierce contest between Federal and Confederate forces being- wag-ed without intermission for the possession of Atlanta. The haughty, insolent boast of the enemy, now that Joe Johnston was removed from the command of the Army of the Tennessee, that they would make quick work of the rebellion, and of the complete sub- jug-ation of the South, had in no way a tendency to mitig-ate anxiety or to encourag-e hope. Thus sur- rounded, I soug-ht and obtained permission to read Federal newspapers. The United States mail broug-ht daily papers to the officers in command of the forces quartered in our yard ; and throug-h this medium I kept posted, from a Northern standpoint, concerning DUBING THE WAR. 157 the situation of both armies. While there was little in these dispatches gratifying; to me, there was much that I thoug-ht would be valuable to my people if I could only convey it to them ; and I racked my brain day and nig-ht, devising ways and means by which to accomplish this feat. But the ways and means de- cided upon were, upon reflection, invariably aban- doned as being impracticable. In this dilemma, a most opportune circumstance offered an immediate solution of the difficult problem. In the midst of a deep study of the relative positions of the two armies, and of the hopes and fears anima- ting both, a tall, lank, honest-faced Yankee came to the door of the portico and asked "if Miss Gay was in." I responded that I was she, and he handed me a letter addressed to myself. I hastily tore it open and read the contents. It was written by a reverend gen- tleman whose wife was a distant relative of my mother, and told that she was very ill. "Indeed," wrote he, "I have but little hope of ever seeing her any better, and I beg you to come to see her, and spend several days." I showed the letter to my mother, who was sitting near by, and, like myself, engaged in studying the sit- uation. She strenuously objected to my going, and advanced many good reasons for my not doing so ; but my reasons for going counteracted them all m my estimation, and I determined to go. Taking Telitha with me, I carried the letter to the Provost Marshal, and asked him to read it and grant me the privilege of going. After reading the letter, 158 LIFE IN DIXIE* he asked me how I obtained it, and received my state- ment. He then asked me if I could refer him to the party who broug-ht it to me. Leaving- the letter with him, I ran home and soon returned with the desired individual who had fortunately lingered in the yard in anticipation of usefulness. Convinced that the in- vitation was g-enuine, and for a humane purpose, this usually morose marshal g-ranted me "a permit" to visit those poor old sick people, for the husband was almost as feeble as his wife. I told the oblig-ing- mar- shal that there was another favor I should like to ask of him, if he would not think me too presumptuous. " Name it," he said. I replied : "Will you detail one or more of the soldiers to act as an escort for me ? I am afraid to g-o with onl}- this g-irl." To this he also assented, and said it was a wise precaution. He asked when I wished to come home. "Day after to-morrow afternoon," I told him, and received assurance that an escort would be in waiting- for me at that time. It now became necessary to make some important preparations for the trip. A g-reat deal was involved, and if my plans were successful, important events mig-ht accrue. A nice white petticoat was called into requisition, and, when I g-ot done with it, it was lit- erally lined with Northern newspapers. "The Cin- cinnati Enquirer," and "The New York Daily Times;" "The Cincinnati Commercial Gazette," and "The Philadelphia Evening- Ledg-er," under the manipulation of my fingers, took their places on the inner sides and rear of the skirt, and served as a very DURING THE WAB. 159 stylish " bustle," an article much in vog-ue in those days. This preparatory work having" been accomp- lished, it required but a few moments to complete my toilet, and, under the auspices of a clear conscience and a mother's blessing", doubtless, I started on a per- ilous trip. The ever-faithful Telitha was by my side, and the military escort a few feet in advance. After a walk of a mile and a half, I reached my destination for that day. I found the old lady in question much better than I had expected. Nervous and sick himself, her husband had g-reatly exag-- g-erated her afflictions. By deg-rees, and under pro- test, I communicated to these ag-ed people my inten- tion of carrying- information to Hood's headquarters, that mig-ht be of use to our army. I knew that these g-ood old people would not betray me, even thoug-h they mig-ht not approve my course, and I confided to them m}' every plan. Both were troubled about the possible result if I should be detected ; but my plans were laid, and nothing- could deter me from pursuing- them. The rising- sun of another day saw Telitha and me starting- on our way to run the gauntlet, so to speak, of Federal bayonets. These g-ood old people had g-iven me much valuable information reg-arding- the way to Atlanta — information which enabled me to g-et there without conflict with either Confederate or Federal pickets. Knowing- the topog-raphy of the country, I took a circuitous route to an old mill ; Cobb's, I believe, and from there I sought the Mc- Donough road. I didn't venture to keep that high- way to the city, but I kept within sight of it, and 160 LIFE IN DIXIE under cover of breast-works and other obstructions, managed to evade videttes and pickets of both armies. After walking- fourteen or fifteen miles, I entered Atlanta at the beautiful home of Mrs. L. P. Grant, at the southern boundary of the city. That estimable lady never lost an opportunity of doing- g-ood. The lessons of humanity and Christian g-race impressed upon her youthful mind, and intensified by the life- long- example of her devoted mother, Mrs. Ammi Wil- liams, of Decatur, had called into action all that is ennobling- in woman. On this occasion, as upon every other offering- an opportunity, she remembered to do g-ood. She ordered an appetizing- lunch, including- a cup of sure enoug-h coffee, which refreshed and strengthened me after m}^ long- walk. Her butler hav- ing- become a familiar personag-e on the streets of Atlanta, she sent him as a g-uide to important places. We entered the city unchalleng-ed, and moved about at will. The force of habit, probably, led me to Mrs. McArthur's and to Mrs. Craig-'s on Pryor street ; and, by the way, these friends still own the same property, and occupy almost the same homes. The head of neither of these families was willing- to accompany me to Confederate headquarters, and without a g-uide I started to hunt them for myself. What had seemed an easy task now seemed insurmountable. I knew not in what direction to g-o, and the few whom I asked seemed as ig-norant as myself. Starting- from Mrs. Craig-'s, I went towards the depot. I had not proceeded very far before I met Major John Y. Rankin. I could scarcely restrain tears of joy. He was a member of the very same command to which DURING THE WAR. 161 my brother belong-ed. From Major Rankin I learned that my brother, utterly prostrated, had been sent to a hospital, either in Aug-usta or Madison. He told me many other thing's of interest, which I cannot men- tion now, unless I was compiling" a history instead of a series of personal reminiscences. Preferring not to stand upon the street, I asked Major Rankin to return with me to Mrs. Craig-'s, which he did, and spent an hour in pleasant conversation. Mrs. Craig" was a delig^htful conversationalist, and while she was enter- taining- the major with that fine art, I retired to a pri- vate apartment, and with the aid of a pair of scissors ripped off the papers from my underskirt and smoothed and folded them nicely, and after re-arrang-ing- my toilet, took them into the parlor as a trophy of skill in outwitting the Yankee. Telitha, too, had a tro- phy to which she had clung" ever since we left home with the tenacity of an eel, and which doubtless she supposed to be an offering- to " Marse Tom," and was evidently anxious that he should receive it. Having" dismissed Mrs. Grant's butler as no long"er necessary to my convenience, Major Rankin, mj^self and Telitha went direct to the headquarters of his com- mand. The papers seemed to be most acceptable, but I noticed that the gleaning"s from conversation seemed far more so. The hopefulness and enthusiasm of our soldiers were inspiring-. But alas ! how little the}^ knew of the situation, and how determined not to be enlig"htened. Even then they believed that they would hold Atlanta against Herculean odds, and scorned the idea of its surrender. At length the open- ing" of Telitha's packag"e devolved on me. Shirts, 162 LIF^ IN DIXfE socks and soap, towels, gloves, etc., formed a compact bundle that mj mother had sent to our soldiers. Many cheery words were said, and g-ood-byes uttered, and I left them to meet once more under very different circumstances. I now turned m}^ thoughts to our negroes, who were hired in different parts of the city. Rachel, the mother of King, hired herself and rented a room from Mr. John Silvey, who lived upon the same lot on Marietta street upon which he has since erected his present elegant residence. In order that I might have an interview with Rachel without disturbing Mr. Sil- vey's family, I went to the side gate and called her. She answered and came immediately. I asked her if she realized the great danger to which she was con- tinually exposed. Kven then "shot and shell" were falling in every direction, and the roaring of cannon was an unceasing sound. She replied that she knew the danger, and thought I was doing wrong to be in Atlanta when I had a home to be at. I insisted that she had the same home, and a good vacant house was ready to receive her. But she was impervious to every argument, and preferred to await the coming of Sherman in her present quarters. Seeing that I had no influence over her, I bade her good-bye and left. Telitha and I had not gone farther than the First Presbyterian church (not a square away) from the gate upon which I had leaned during this interview with Rachel, before a bombshell fell by that gate and burst into a thousand fragments, literally tearing the gate into pieces. Had I remained there one minute longer, my mortal being would have been torn to DURING THE WAR. 168 atoms. After this fearfully impressive adventure, unfortified by any "permit" I struck a bee line to Mrs. Grant's, having- promised her that I would g-o back that way and stop awhile. An old negro man belong-ing- to Mrs. Williams, who had "come out" on a previous occasion, was there, and wanted to return under my protection to his home within the enemy's lines. Very earnest assurances from Mrs. Grant to that effect convinced me that I had nothing- to fear from betrayal by him, and I consented that he should be a member of my company homeward bound. Two large packages were ready for the old man to take charge of, about which Mrs. Grant gave him direc- tions, sotlo voce. Putting one of them on the end of a walking cane he threw it over his right shoulder, and with his left hand picked up the other bundle. Telitha and I were unencumbered. With a good deal of trepidation I took the advance position in the line of march, and walked briskly. We had not proceeded very far before we encountered our pickets. No argu- ment was weighty enough to secure for me the privi- lege of passing the lines without an official permit. Baffled in this eff^ort, I approved the action of the pickets, and we turned and retraced our steps in the direction of Atlanta, until entirely out of sight of them, and then we turned southward and then east- ward, verging a little northward. Constant vigilance enabled me to evade the Yankee pickets, and constant walking brought me safely to the home of my aged and afflicted friends, from which I had started early in the morning of that day. Not being tired, I could have gone home ; but the policy of carrying out the 164 LIFE IN DIXIE orig-inal programme is too apparent to need explana- tion. These friends were conservative in every act and word, and, it may be, leaned a little out of the perpendicular towards that " flaunting- lie," the United States flag- ; therefore they were favorites among- the so-called defenders of the Union, and were kept sup- plied with many palatable articles of food that were entirely out of the reach of rebels who were avowed and "dyed in the wool." A few minutes sufficed to furnish us with a fine pot of soup (and good bread was not lacking-), of which we ate heartily. The old neg-ro man was too anx- ious to g-et home to be willing- to spend the nig-ht so near, just for the privileg-e of walking- into Decatur under Yankee escort, and said he was " g-oing- home," and left me. The next day my escort was promptly on hand, and in due time I was in Decatur, none the worse for having- put into practice a favorite aphorism of the Yankees, that "all thing's are fair in war." The old man had preceded me, and faithful to the behest of Mrs. Grant, had turned over a valuable packag-e to my mother. Not many morning-s subsequent to the adventure just related, I discovered upon opening- the door that the Yankee tents seemed to be vacant. Not a blue- coat was to be seen. What could it mean ? Had they g-iven up the contest and ig-nominiously fled ? As if confirmatory of the g-ratifying- sug-g-estion, the boom- ing- of cannon in the direction of Atlanta was evidently decreasing-. Then ag-ain I thought perhaps the wagon train had been sent out to forage upon the country, BUBING THE WAB. 165 and as it would now have to go forty-five and fifty miles to g-et anything-, it required an immense military es- cort to protect it from the dashing-, sang-uinary attacks of the "rebels." The latter thoug-ht was soon dis- missed and the former embraced, and how consoling- it was to me. Before the sun had attained its merid- ian heig-ht, a number of our scouts appeared on the abandoned g-rounds; and what joy their presence g-ave us ! But they left us as suddenly as they came, and on reflection we could not think of a sing-le encourag-- ing- word uttered by them during- their stay. Suspense became intolerable. With occasional lulls, the roar- ing- of cannon was a continuous blending* of ominous sound. In the midst of this awful suspense, an apparition, g-lorious and brig-ht, appeared in our presence. It was my brother. He had left Madison a few days before, where he had been allowed to spend a part of his f ur- loug-h, instead of remaining at the Aug-usta hospital, and where he received the tender ministrations of his estimable cousin, Mrs. Tom Hillsman, and her pretty young- daug-hters, and the loving- care of his sister Missouri, who was also at this time an inmate of her cousin's household. How I wished he could have re- mained there until restored to health. One less pa- triotic and conscientious would have done so. His mother's joy at meeting- her beloved son, and under such circumstances, was pathetic indeed, and I shall never for g-et the effort she made to repress the tears and steady the voice as she soug-ht to nerve him for the arduous and perilous duties before him. Much of his conversation, thoug-h hurried, was reg-arding- his 166 LIFE JN Di:S^E Mary, in Texas, and the dear little boy dropped down from heaven, whom he had never seen. The shades of nig-ht came on, and darker g^rew until complete blackness enveloped the face of the earth, and still the low subdued tones of conversation between mother, son and daug-hter, ming-led with unabated interest. Hark ! Hark ! An e;xplosion ! An earthquake ? The an- g-ry bellowing- sound rises in deafening- g-randeur, and reverberates along- the far-off valleys and distant hill- tops. What is it ? This mig-hty thunder that never ceases ? The earth is ablaze — what can it be ? This illumination that reveals minutest objects ? With blanched face and tearful e^^e, the soldier said : "Atlanta has surrendered to the enemy. The mig-hty reports are occasioned by the blowing- up of the mag-azines and arsenals." Dumbfounded we stood, trying- to realize the crush- ing- fact. Woman's heart could bear no more in silence, and a wail over departed hopes ming-led with the ang-ry sounds without. Impelled by a stern resolve, and a spirit like to that of martyred saints, our brother said : '.'This is no place for me. I must g"o." And then he put an arm around each of us, and kissed us with a fervor of love that knew no bounds, and was quenching- itself in unfathomable hopeless tenderness. The quiet fortitude and patriotism of his mother g-ave way in that dread hour, and she cried aloud in ag-onizing- apprehension of never ag-ain clasp- ing- to her bosom her g-reatest earthly joy. No pen can describe the scene of that last parting- between DURING THE WAR. 167 mother and son, and in sheer impotency I drop the curtain. As he walked awaj from his sobbing- mother, throug-h the war-illuminated village, I never beheld mortal man so handsome, so heroically g-rand. His great tender heart, which I had seen heave and sway under less trying circumstances, seemed to have ossi- fied, and not an emotion was apparent. 168 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XVIII. THE TEN days' armistice. Going out with the Confederate clothes — Scenes at Atlanta and at Lovejoy's Station — The visit to Granbury's Brigade — The last interview with Thomie. After every morsel of food had been taken from the people, and every vestig-e of nutrition extracted from the earth, the following- order, in substance, was proclaimed throug-hout the land held by the rig-ht of conquest : " All who cannot support themselves without ap- plying- to the United States Commissary for assist- ance, must g-o outside of our lines, either north or south, within the period of time mentioned in this order, etc., etc." And b}^ this order, and by others even more oppres- sive and diabolical, the Nero of the nineteenth cen- tury, alias William Tecumseh Sherman, was put upon record as the born leader of the most ruthless, Godless band of men ever org-anized in the name of patriotism — a band which, but for a few noble spirits who, by the power of mind over matter, exerted a restraining- influence, would not have left a Southerner to tell the tale of fiendishness on its route to the sea. And now, like Bill Nye, after one of his sententious and doubtless truthful introductions to a Western DUBING THE WAB. 169 sketch, I feel easier in my mind, and will proceed with my reminiscences of that unholy period of this coun- try, and tell the truth about it, without favor or prejudice, if it kills me. After this pronunciamento had been issued, all was bustle and rapid movement in every household within the boundaries of usurpa- tion. Under the strong- arm of military power, delay was not permitted. Homes were to be abandoned, and household g-oods and household g"ods to be left for the enemy, or destroyed ; and liberty under our own vine and fig tree was to be a thing- of the past, and dependence upon strang-ers a thing- of the future. In preparation for this enforced chang-e, much that should have been done was left undone, but there was no time to correct mistakes — the armistice was only for ten days. What were we to do, my mother and myself, was a question which presented itself with startling- serious- ness, and had to be answered without delay. Our farm in Gordon county had already been devastated by the invading- army, and every improvement de- stroyed, and if we should lose our home in Decatur we would be poor indeed. But what were we to do ? If we left our home, we knew it would share the fate of all other " abandoned" property, and furnish material for a bonfire for Nero to fiddle by ; and if we remained, by g-race of better men than he, what assurance had we that by any means within our grasp we could ob- tain even a scanty subsistence, or be protected from personal abuse and insult by an alien army whose gen- tlemen were vastly in the minority. 12 170 LIFE IN DlXli We learned that our neig'libors and friends, Mrs. Ammi Williams and her estimable son, Mr. Frederick Williams, (an invalid from paralysis) — whose influence over General Schofield prevented my banishment from Decatur the very first nig-ht of its occupancy by the Federal army — and the venerable Mr. and Mrs. Buch- anan (the latter a Bostonian and educated in Emer- son's celebrated school for young- ladies), and other families as true to the South as the needle to the pole, were g"oing" to remain and take their chances within the enemy's lines, and we determined to do so too. The officers in command of the post, especially the provost marshal, interrog^ated us very closely reg^ard- ing- our plans and expectations during- the occupancy of the place by Federal forces. Having- satisfied them that our only remaining" servant would do washing- and ironing- at reasonable prices, and that we would do darning- and repairing-, we were g-iven a written permit to remain within the lines. I, however, had a work to do, a feat to perform, which for audacity and courag-e, has seldom been sur- passed, which would not admit of my sta3ang- at home until I had made a little trip to Dixie. Knowing- the value of his influence, I ag-ain went to Mr. Frederick Williams, and confiding- my plans to him, asked his assistance in g-etting- permission to g-o out and return during- the armistice. I never knew what argument he employed for the accomplishment of this object. I only know by inference. But I received a letter from General Schofield, adjutant- g-eneral, of which the subjoined is an exact transcript: DURING THE WAB. 171 "Dkcatuk, Ga., Sept. 1, 18r34. "Miss Gay — It was hard for me to reconcile my conscience to giving the enclosed recommendation to one whose sentiments I cannot approve, but if I have committed an error it has been on the side of mercy, and I hope I'll be forgiven. Hereafter I hope you will not think of Yankees as all being bad, and beyond the pale of redemption. "To-morrow I leave for my own home in the 'frozen North,' and when I return it will be to fight for my country, and against your friends, so that I suppose I shall not have the pleasure of again meet- ing y.ou. Very respectfully, J. W. Campbell." And that Major Campbell's gallant act may be fully appreciated, I will add the letter which secured for me the great favor which I had the temerity to ask. "Headquarters, Army of Ohio, Decatur, Ga., Sept. 14, 1864. "My Dear Colonel — I have the honor to intro- duce Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of this village, and I rec- ommend her case to your favorable consideration. I do not know exactly what orders are now in force, but if you think 3'ou can grant her desires without detri- ment to the public service, I am confident the indul- gence will not be abused. Very respectfull}- your obedient servant, J. W. Campbell. "To Colonel J. C. Parkhurst, Pro. Mar. Gen., Army of the Cumberland." 172 LIFE IN DIXIE Thus recommended by one hig-h in army ranks, Colonel Parkhurst granted me the privilege of going- to see mj' young sister, then in Augusta, and carrying* anything I might have saved from the ravages of the war, "unmolested." Fortified by these letters I went to the Provost Marshal in Decatur and told him I would be ready to g"0 to Atlanta to-morrow morning at 8 o'clock, and I wanted to carry some old bed- clothing- and other things to my sister, and would be g-rateful for an ambulance, or an army wagon all to myself, and an Irish driver. He promised that both should be at my service at the time indicated — not, however, without 'the sarcastic remark that "if the Yankees had been as bad as I had said they were, they would not have left anything for me to carry." I ran to m}^ mother and imparted to her the glad tidings of success, and in a whispered conversation we soon had definite plans arrang-ed for the consum- mation of the perilous duty before me. I went to the Federal camp and asked for some crocus sacks such as are used in the transportation of grain, and quite a number were given to me. I shook them thoroughly inside and out, and put them by. A ball of twine and some large needles had found their way into the house. The needles were threaded and placed in con- venient proximity to the sacks. Telitha watched every movement with interest and intuitively divined its import. The wardrobe was empty and my very first touch moved it at least one inch in the desired direction, and a helping hand from her soon placed it in favorable position. This much being accomplished, I took a seat by my mother on the front door-steps and JJURING THE WAE. 173 eng-ag"ed in a pleasant conversation with a group of ^^oung- Federal soldiers, who seemed much attached to us, and with whom I conversed with unreserved candor, and often expressed reg-ret that thej were in hostile array towards a people who had been g-oaded to desperation by infring^ement upon constitutional rig*hts by those who had pronounced the only lig-ament that bound the two sections of the country together, " a leag"ue with hell, and a covenant with the devil." This I proved to them by documents published at the North, and by many other thing-s of which they were ig-norant. While thuseng-ag-ed. Captain Woodbury approached and said : "I learn that 3-ou are g"oing- out into Dixie, Miss Gay." "Yes, for a few days," I replied. "I am prepared to furnish a more pleasant con- veyance to Atlanta than the one you have secured," said he, and continued, "I have a handsome new bug-g-y and a fine trotter, and it will take only a few minutes to reach there. Will you accept a seat with me?" If all the blood within me had overflowed its proper channels, and rushed to the surface, I could not have flushed more. I felt it in the commotion of mv hair, and in the nervous twitching- of m}^ feet. The indig-- nation and contempt that I felt for the man ! That one who was aiding* and abetting" in the devastation of my country and the spoliation of my home, should ask me to take a seat with him in a bug-g"}' which he doubtless had taken, without leave or license, from my countrjnnen, was presumptuous indeed, and de- 174 LIFE IN DIXIE served a severe rebuke. But " prudence being- the bet- ter j)art of valor," I repressed all that would have been offensive in word and act, and replied with suavit}', "Thank you. Captain Woodbury, for the honor you would have conferred upon me, but I can- not accept it." Receiving- no reply, I added : " Let me in candor make a statement to you, and I think you will approve the motive that prompts my decision. I have not soug-ht to conceal the fact that my only brother is in the Confederate army ; he is there from motives purelj^ patriotic, and not as a mer- cenary hireling-. He is fig-hting- for the rig-hts g-uar- anteed by the Constitution of the United States, a constitution so sacred that our people have never vio- lated it in any particular, and of which we have shown our hig-hest appreciation by adopting- it re?'- haiim^ as the guiding- star of the Southern Confed- eracy. You are in an army claiming* to be fig-hting- for the Union, and 3'et the g-overnment that sent j^ou out on this g-lorious mission ig-nores every principle of fraternal relation between the North and the South, and would subvert every fundamental principle of self-g-overnment and establish upon the wreck a cen- tralized despotism. Could I, while you and I are so antagonistic, accept your offer and retain j^our g-ood opinion ? I think not, and I prefer to g-o in the con- veyance alread}' stipulated." Silence, without the slightest manifestation of an- ger, assured me that my argument against taking a buggy drive with him to Atlanta had not been lost on Captain Woodbury, of Ohio, a member of Gar- rard's Cavalry. nUBINO THE WAR. 175 After this episode we bade our callers " g"ood-even- ing-," went into the house and busied ourselves with the important work before us — a work which prob- ably would not attract attention because of the dark- ness that would surround the scene of its execution. The table and chair had been placed, as once before, by the wardrobe already mentioned, and a little respite was employed in viewing- the situation. The door connecting- our room and this dining--room was g-enerally kept shut. At leng-th nig-ht came on with its friendly, helpful darkness. The shutters of the windows had been closed for weeks, and secured by nails, and the house had been too often searched and plundered to be suspected of containing- valuables. Therefore, we felt that if no unusual sound attracted notice we would accomplish our object unsuspected. But I was anxious and nervous in view of what was before me, and wanted the perilous work over with. So when the darkness of nig-ht fully enshrouded the earth, with no other lig-ht than that which found its way from the camp-fires of the enemy through the latticed shutters, I stepped into the chair and thence upon the table, and Telitha followed and drew the chair up after her. Then with her strong- duskj^ hands she seized the wardrobe as if it had been a to}^ in her hands. I steadied the chair by the wardrobe and stepped into it, and another step landed me on top of the wardrobe. My fing-ers penetrated the crev- ice between the slats which I wanted to pull off, and to a slight effort they yielded. Lest the noise oc- casioned by dropping- them mig-ht attract notice, I stooped and laid each piece down as I drew it off the 176 LIFE IN DIXIE joist. When the aperture thus made was sufficient, I beg-an to draw from their hiding- place the precious Confederate overcoats and other winter apparel con- fided to m}^ keeping- (as already related), bj soldiers of General Joseph K. Johnston's army, when they were at Dalton. One by one each piece was taken out and dropped down upon the floor. But by a lamentable oversig-ht we afterwards found that one article had been left — a woolen scarf for the neck, knitted for my brother by his loving- young- wife in Texas. Carefully I descended, and, with the aid of the girl, placed the chair, the table, and the dear old wardrobe (which deserves to be immortalized in song- and story), in less suspicious positions, and then pro- ceeded to pack in the sacks, already mentioned, the precious articles. The thoug-ht occurred to me thai; my mother would like to have a hand in this labor of love, and I opened the door between us. I shall ncA^er forg-et her appearance as she stood as if riveted to the spot, near a window, watching- the moving- fig-ures without. I approached her and in a cheerful whisper told her that I was now putting- the thing-s in the sacks, and I knew she would like to have an interest in the job. She tried to respond, but she was too nervous to do so. Slowly but surely she was yielding- to the pressure upon nerve and brain. As each sack was filled, a threaded needle securely closed the mouth. In a short while a number of these sacks stood in a g-roup, as erect as if on parade, and I verily believe that if the host of profane, godless braggarts (with but few exceptions) who surrounded the house DURING THE WAR. 177 could have seen them at that time and known their contents, they would have evacuated Decatur in mor- tal fear of the g-hosts of " Johnnie Rebs." This important work having- been accomplished without discovery or even a shadow of suspicion, I felt vastly relieved, and thanked the Lord with all my heart for the health, streng-th, and ing-enuity which had enabled me to consummate it. My mother and I lay down upon the same bed, and were soon blessed with the invig-orating- influence of "tired nature's sweet restorer." The song- of the lark had ceased to be heard in this war-stricken locality ; chanticleer had long- since fur- nished a savory meal for camp foUowefs, and the time-pieces had either been spoiled or stolen ; but there was a silent, unerring- chronometer within that never deviated, and needed no alarm attachment to arouse me from slumber, and the dawn found me up and preparing- for the duties and perhaps the dang-ers of the day. Telitha had become quite an attraction to a bevy of men who occupied soldiers' quarters, and wore sol- diers' uniforms, and drew pay for doing- so, from Uncle Sam's coffers ; and as she had been trained to ideas of virtue and morality she often came in frown- ing- and much ruffled in temper by their deportment towards her. Being almost entirely deaf and dumb, her limited vocabulary was inadequate to supply epi- thets expressive of the rig-hteous indig-nation and con- tempt which she evidently felt— she could only say, " Devil Yank, devil,'' and these words she used with telling- effect both to the amusement and chagrin of 178 LIFE IN DIXIE the Yankees. This state of affairs convinced me that for her protection she would have to be kept within doors, and I therefore assumed the task of drawing- the water, and a few other jobs indispensable even in life's rudest state. On this occasion, when I went to the well for a bucket of water, before preparing- our frug-al breakfast, I was asked by early marauders why I did not let " that young- colored lady draw the water." I candidly answered them, and 'told them I was g-oing- to ask the officers of the encampment to protect her while I was g-one, and I also would ask them to report any misdemeanor toward her, that they mig-ht witness, at headquarters. After a g-ood nig-ht's rest my mother's nerves seemed all rig-ht ag-ain, and by 7 o'clock we had fin- ished our breakfast, which consisted of bread and but- ter and coffee — the latter luxurious beverag-e being- furnished by one whose heart was in touch with hu- manit3\ That the aperture in the ceiling- of the dining- room mig-ht not be discovered until I g-ot the contraband g-oods out of the house, I had broug-ht the sacks containing- them into the adjoining- room, and it was therefore the work of a very few minutes to convey them to the wag-on, when that vehicle, drawn by a span of fine horses, under the g-uidance of the Irish driver, drove up to the frontdoor. "Put those sacks into the wagon," I said, pointing- to them. When the last one of them was stored away safely in that mov- ing- repository, one of those feeling-s of relief and se- curity came over me that had more than once g-iven me courag-e to brave successfully impending- dang-er — and I donned m}^ hat, and bade m}^ mother and the DUBINQ THE WAB. 179 faithful g-irl an almost cheerful "Good-bye," and took my seat by the driver, en 7'oute for Dixie. Would I g-et there ? Ah ! that was the question that had blanched my mother's cheek when I said "Good-bye." But hope, etc., " eternal in the human breast, " whis- pered "yes," and thus encourag-ed, I spoke g-rateful words to the Irish driver, and asked him many questions about the land of the shamrock and sunny blue skies. He was evidentl}^ flattered by my favorable knowledg-e of the Emerald Isle, and would have done anything- within his power for me. God bless the Irish for- ever I asked him to drive under my direction to the res- idence of my estimable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Posey Maddox, the parents of the accomplished and erudite Charles K. Maddox, of Atlanta. To my g^reat joy I saw wag-ons in the yard, already laden with their household g-oods, to be carried to the depot and turned over to the Federal authorities, who assumed the transportation of them to Jonesboro and the safe de- livery of them to the Confederate authorities, who in turn assumed the transportation and delivery of them to the nearest Confederate station. Mr. Maddox had secured the use of an entire freig-ht car, and g"ladly consented to take me and m}^ bag-g^ag-e in with theirs. Mrs. Maddox was particularly g-lad to have me g-o with them, and to her I confided the character of ni}^ bag-- gag-e, and received in return many words of sympathy and approbation. Those who have studied mythical lore, and dwelt in imagination upon the attributes of mythical characters, especiall}^ those of an evil nature, can perhaps form some idea of the confusion and disquiet 180 LIFE IN DIXIE of an entire city yielding- its possession to an alien army, which now, that success had been achieved by brute force, was bent upon the utter impoverishment of the people, and their extreme humiliation. Curses and imprecations too vile to repeat, and boisterous laug-hter, and vulg-ar jests resounded through the streets of Atlanta. Federal wag-ons followed in the tracks of Confederate wag"ons, and after a few lig-ht articles were placed in the latter for Southern desti- nation, the former unblushing-ly moved up to receive pianos and other expensive furniture which found its way into every section of the North. And this hig-h- way robbery was permitted by William Tecumseh Sherman, the Grand Mog-ul of the Army of the Repub- lic. Truly had the city of Atlanta been turned into a veritable pandemonium. At leng-th our time came to move in the worse than death-like processions g'oing- southward, and in a short while we were at Jonesboro, our destination, so far as Federal aid extended. As soon as I stepped from the car I wended my way to the Confederate officer of the day, whom I recog^nized by his reg-alia, and told him of my success in concealing- and bring-ing- out of Federal lines the winter clothing- of our soldiers. He listened with polite attention and said it was a wonderfully interesting- story, but altog-ether improb- able. " Go with me and I will prove to you the truthful- ness of it," I eag-erly said. As it was a bleak equinoctial day, and drizzling- rain, Mr. and Mrs. Maddox had not yet left their car (b}^ way of parenthesis, I would sa}^ that the favors DURING THE WAR. 181 shown to these excellent people was in consideration of Mr. Maddox being- a very prudent minister of the gospel), and, when we reached it, I asked Mr. Maddox to roll one of my sacks to the door. He did so, and I then asked the officer to examine its contents. A blade of a pen-knife severed the twine with which the edges of the mouth had been sewed together, and the loved familiar gray and brass buttons, and other articles, verified the truth of my statement. He looked amazed, and exhausted his vocabulary of flattering encomiums upon me, and, what was more desirable and to the point, he asked what he could do in the matter, and assured me that there was nothing within the range of his jurisdiction that he would not do. I told him that the object of my coming to him was to ask that he send me and my precious charge to General Gran- bury's headquarters, as, among other overcoats, I had one of his in charge, as well as many other things belonging to his staff officers. He told me the finest span of Confederate horses and the best ambulance on the ground should be at my service as soon as possible. During the interim, I opened wide my eyes and took in the situation in all its horrible details. The entire Southern population of Atlanta, with but an occasional exception, and that of many miles in its vicinit}^, were dumped out upon the cold ground without shelter and without any of the comforts of home, and an autumnal mist or drizzle slowly but surely saturating every article of clothing upon them; and pulmonary diseases in all stages admonishing them of the danger of such exposure. Aged grandmothers tottering upon the verge of the grave, and tender 182 LIFE IN DIXIE maidens in the first bloom of 3^oung- womanhood, and little babes not three days old in the arms of sick mothers, driven from their homes, were all out upon the cold charity of the world. Apropos, I will relate an incident that came under ** my observation during- my brief stay at this station : When one of the long- trains from Atlanta rolled in with its living- freig-ht and stopped at the terminus, a .. queenly g"irl, tall and lithe in fig-ure and willowy in motion, emerged from one of the cars, and stood, the embodiment of feminine grace, for a moment upon the platform. In less time than it takes to chronicle the impression, her Grecian beaut}^ classic expression and nobility of manner, had daguerreotyped themselves upon the tablets of my memory never to be effaced by mortal alchemy. The pretty plain debeige dress, trimmed with Confederate buttons and corresponding ribbon, all conspired to make her appear, even to a casual observer, just what she was — a typical Southern girl who gloried in that honor. She stood only a moment, and then, as if moved by some divine inspir- ation, she stepped from the car, and falling upon her knees, bent forward and kissed the ground. This silent demonstration of affection for the land of Dixie touched a vibrating chord, and a score or more of beautiful girlish voices blended in sweetest harmony while they told in song their love for Dixie. I listened spellbound, and was not the onl}' one thus enchanted. A United States officer listened and was touched to tears. Approaching me, he asked if I would do him the favor to tell him the name of the young lady who kissed the ground. DURING THE WAR. 183 "I do not think she would approve of my telling- you her name, and I decline to do so," I said in reply. Not in the least daunted by this rebuff he responded : "I shall learn it ; and if she has not already become the wife or the affianced of another, I shall offer her the devotion of my life." The Confederate officer of the day, God forever bless him ! came for me. The army wag-on was ready and standing- by Mr. Posey Maddox's car, waiting- to receive its precious freig-ht, and a few minutes sufficed to transfer it from car to wagon, and, after waiting- to see the last sack securely placed in the wag-on, I, too, got in and took my seat by the driver. A long cold drive was before us, but I was so robust I had no fear of the result. The driver was a veritable young Jehu, and we got over the ground rapidly ; but, owing to a mistake in following directions, it was a long time before we reached our destination, the course of which must have been due west from Jonesboro, and through a dense forest. And oh, the beauty of that forest ! It will remain a living, vivid memory, as long as life endures. Its rich and heav}^ foliage had been but lightly tinged by the frosts of autumn, and it was rendered more beautiful by the constant dripping of rain drops from every leaf and blossom. As the even- ing came on, dense, impenetrable clouds canopied the earth, and shut out every ray of sunlight, and almost every ray of hope. At length night came on, dark and weird, and silent, and we were still in the woods, without compass or star. Just as my brave heart was about to succumb to 184 LIFE IN DlXm despair, a vision of delig-lit burst upon me — a beacon lig-ht, yea, hundreds of beacon lig-bts, appeared before me, and filled mj soul with joy. The camp-fires of General Cleburne's brave men beckoned us onward, and g-ave us friendly greeting-. Every revolution of the wag-on wheels broug-ht us perceptibl}^ nearer the haven of rest. Sabbath-like quiet reig-ned throughout the encampment. No boisterous sounds nor profane imprecations broke the stillness. But there was a sound that reached my ear, filling my soul with joy unspeakable. A human voice it was. I had heard it before in the slight wail of infancy ; in the merry prattle of childhood; in the melodious songs of youth; in the tender, well-modulated tones of manhood ; and now — there was no mistaking it — in the solemn, earn- est invocation to the Lord of Hosts for the salvation of the world, for the millenial dawn, and that "peace on earth, and good will to men," which would never again be broken by the clarion of war, or earth's rude alarms. No sweeter voice ever entered the courts of Heaven. My obliging young driver stopped the horses at a favorable distance, and I heard the greater part of that grand prayer, and wept for joy. When it was finished, we moved on, and were hailed by a sentinel who demanded the countersign, I believe it is called. The driver satisfied him, and calling to a soldier, I asked him if he knew Lieutenant Stokes. "Like a book," he answered. "Please tell him his sister Mary is here," I said. In a moment I was clasped in his arms with the holy pressure of a brother's love. His first thought on seeing me was that some calamity DURING THE WAH. 185 must have occurred, and he said, "Sister, is Ma or Missouri dead?" "No, Thomie, but Toby is." His brave head bowed low and he wept — sobbed audibly. I told him of Toby's loving- mention of him, and of the boy's hope of Heaven. After his natural paroxysm of g-rief had subsided, he looked up, and with an ineffable smile, said : "Sister, I know you have a secret to tell — what is it?" "It is this ; I have saved all those precious thing's that were sent to me from Dalton, and I have brought them to deliver to their rig-htful owners. Help me to do so as quickly as possible, that I may g-o back to Jonesboro to-night." Had a bombshell exploded at his feet, the effect could not have been more electrical. He bounded to General Granbury's tent with the ag-ility of a deer ; he told the news to him and the others assembled there ; and he came back, and they all came with him ; and had I been a magician, I could not have been an object of greater interest. General Granbury protested ag-ainst my return to Jonesboro through the darkness of the nig-ht, and offered his tent for my occupancy, saying" he would g-o in with some of the other of&cers. Colonel Robert Young, a friend of years' standing-, was also earnest in his efforts to keep me from carrying- out my purpose to g-o back, and I g-ave it up. I knew that I was with friends, and permitted myself to be lifted out of the wag-on and conducted to the General's tent. I took a seat upon a camp stool which was placed for me about the 13 186 LIFE IN Di:SJE center of the tent. The General and his staff officers sat around, and my dear brother was very near me. Thus arrang"ed, a conversation was commenced which continued with slight interruptions into the "wee sma' hours " of the nig-ht. Colonel Young- seemed to have something upon his mind which rendered him indifferent to societ}^ or some duty to perform which required his attention outside the tent. At length, however, he came to the door and asked my brother to come out awhile. In a short time both of them came in together, and Colonel Young, after asking us to excuse the interruption of the conversation, remarked that there was something outside that he would like for us to see. My brother took me by the hand and led me out in front of the tent, and all the officers stood in a group around. Imagine my surprise when I perceived a long line of soldiers before us, and an officer on horseback galloping from one end of the line to the other. I ventured to ask my brother if they were going to have a moonlight drill without the moon? He smiled, and a faint pressure of the hand indicated that there was something on the tapis that would please me, but I must wait until it was revealed to others as well. In much less time than it has taken to record this episode a signal was given, and one of the grandest cheers ever heard by mortal man resounded through the midnight darkness and the dense forest, and was echoed over hill and dale. Another signal and another cheer, and yet another of each, and I broke down completely and cried heartily. What had I done that my name should thus be honored DURING THE WAE. 187 bj men enduring- all the hardships of warfare and fighting- for mj principles ; and yet to me it was the most acceptable compliment ever paid to living- woman. I often fancy I hear those voices now blending- in one g-rand harmonious shout of praise to the g-reat God of Heaven and earth, who has doubtless g-iven rest to many of those wear}^ ones. Once more in General Granbury's tent, at the earnest solicitation of all present, I continued the rehearsal of all the Federal army news that I had g-leaned from close perusal of the United States news- papers and from careless and unsuspicious talkers. General Granbury was evidently startled when I told him that I had heard Federal officers say "Hood was working- to their hand precisely in g-oing- back to Tennessee, as Thomas was there with an army that was invincible, and would whip him so bad that there would not be a Johnnie Reb left to tell the tale ; " and they criticised severely the " g-eneralship " of g-iving- an invading- army unobstructed route to the g-oal of their ambition, which, in this case, was South Caro- lina. I was asked by one of my auditors to give my impression of the situation, and I did so. As I described the mag-nitude of the Federal army, and its vindictive spirit as I had seen it, and its implacable feeling- towards the South, I saw a shade of sadness pass over the noble faces of all present. "Have you lost hope of the ultimate success of our cause ?" was a question I was compelled to answer, because anxiously asked. I, however, imitated a Yankee by asking- a question in reply, as to what our resources were, and 188 LIFE IN DimE if they were deemed adequate to cope with a foe which had the world to draw from, both for men and means? "But have you lost hope?" was the question I was called upon to answer without equivo- cation. Silence and tears which would well up were inter- preted to mean what my tongue refused to speak. My brother perceiving- this, put his hand on mine as it lay motionless upon my lap, and said, "Cheer up, sister mine ; if you could have seen ' Old Pat's' men on drill this afternoon, you would think we are some ourselves." Colonel Young" continued to seem very much en- g-aged outside, and, since the demonstration in my honor, had given us only an occasional glimpse of himself. At length he came to the door and said, "Lieutenant, I should like to speak to you." My brother responded to the call, and soon returned and said : " As there is a hard day's march before us for to-morrow, we must let the General get a little sleep, and this brave sister of mine must need it, too. Come, let me conduct you to your room." Good-byes were spoken that night which, in the providence of God, were destined never to be repeated, and Thomie and Colonel Young led the way to a bran new tent, never used before, and opened the door that I might enter. Thomie said, " M3' room is next to yours, sister. Pleasant dreams, and refreshing slum- bers,'' and he kissed me good night. "Good night, dear brother." "Good night, dear friend," said I, as he and Colonel Young left the tent. By the dim light nUBINO THE ^VAIl 189 I surveyed the " room " and its furnishing-s, and wept to think that dear Confederate soldiers had deprived themselves of comforts that I might be comfortable. A handsome buffalo robe lay on the ground ; and a coat nicely folded for a pillow, and a gray blanket for a cover, invited me to repose. A small, pan of water for morning- ablution, and a towel, and a mir- ror about the size of a silver dollar, and a comb and brush, furnished every needed convenience. I re- moved the skirt of my dress that it might not be wrinkled in the morning, and my mantle for the same cause, and lay down and slept, oh, how sweetly, under the protecting care of those noble men, until awakened by the sweet familiar voice of my brother, saying, " Get up, sister, or you will not be ready for the roll- call," was his never-to-be-forgotten morning saluta- tion. "As a short horse is soon curried," it required only a few moments to make myself presentable, and just as I was about announcing myself in that con- dition, Thomie again appeared at the door with a plate containing my breakfast in one hand, and a tin cup containing a decoction, which he called coffee, in the other. "Here is your breakfast, sis- ter ;" and he added, "the ambulance is waiting to carry you to Lovejoy's station. Lieutenant Jewell and myself have been detailed to accompany you there." The army wagons were already falling in line one after another and moving onward in a northwesterl}^ direction ; and what remained of the infantry and cavalry of that once magnificent army, which so often 190 LIFE IN DIXIE had achieved victorj- under General Joseph E. John- ston, had made their last grand bivouac on Georgia soil, and were moving onward in the line of march to Tennessee, under the command of Hood. Thej were leaving many a gallant comrade who had bitten the dust and drenched the soil of Georgia with their life- blood, and although they must have feared that the flag they loved so well was now leading them to de- feat, yet not one of those true hearts would have deserted it for the wealth of India. As they marched in a different direction from that I was going to take, and the demand for rapid movement was imperative, I could not follow them long with my eye, but the memory of the little I saw will ever be fresh, and, like an inspiration yet to me, their bayonets glittered in a perfect halo of glor}^ for the mists and clouds of the preceding day had passed away during the night, and a blue sky and bright sun gladdened the earth. The two young lieutenants took seats opposite to me in the ambulance. Thus arranged, I caught ever}^ movement and look of that dear brother from whom I was so soon to part. He never looked more hand- some, or appeared to greater advantage. I was his guest, and he entertained me with a " feast of reason and a flow of soul." At my request he sang some of the songs of " auld lang syne," but he preferred to talk of our mother and our sister. He recalled inci- dents of his childhood, and laughed heartily over some of them. He spoke of his Mary in Texas and his love for her, and he took from his vest pocket the DUBINQ THE WAR. 191 impression of the foot and hand of his only child, a dear little boy whom he had never seen, and kissed them, then folded them carefully and put them back in his pocket and said : " I must hurry back to Texas." But back of all this g-lee and apparent hopefulness I saw, in characters unmistakable, that he was almost bereft of hope, and sustained only b}^ Christian resig- nation. We knew, by the immense crowd of people stand- ing* and sitting" around on improvised seats, that we were approaching the station. The two soldiers got out of the ambulance with the elasticity of youth and health, and Thomie assisted me out. I stood for a moment, as if uncertain where to go, and Lieutenant Jewell grasped my hand and said : Good-bye, dear Miss Mary !" and stepped back into the wagon and resumed his seat. Seeing a large, square old house, which appeared to be full of people, Thomie and I advanced toward it a few steps. Suddenly, as if admonished that a soldier's duties should have precedence over every- thing else, he took me in his arms and kissed me fervently once, twice, thrice. I understood for whom they were intended — that trio of kisses. Not a word did he speak, and when he turned his back on me I saw him brush off the silent tears, and more than one step was uneven before his nerves became steady and he ready to report for dut3^ I felt intuitively that I should never look upon his face again, and I watched him with riveted eyes until I could no longer see him. 192 LIFE IN DIXIE and then I gazed upon the vehicle containing- him un- til it, too, disappeared forever from my sig-ht. Then, and not till then, I g-ave way to pent-up sorrow, and cried as one without hope — unreservedly. DURING THE WAIi. 193 chap'i;er XIX. THK RETURN HOMK. From Jonesboro via Augusta — Scenes and Incidents by the way. — The lonely journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur. Dazed by a full realization that my brother and every male relative and friend were in the octopus arms of war, cruel and relentless, I stood riveted to the spot where my brother had parted from me, until a g-entle hand touched my shoulder, and a pleasant voice gave me friendly g-reeting*. Turning- 1 saw Mrs. Anderson, sister of the brave and gallant Robert Alston, whose trag-ic fate is known to every reader in this country. "I am glad to see you. I have just seen your brother Robert," I said. " Where ? Where ? Do tell me that I may go to him !" cried his devoted sister, laughing and weeping alternately. Having ascertained that the long train of exiles would not leave the station for several hours, I offered to conduct the tender-hearted woman to the camp-fire of her brother. The route took me over the same ground which only a few moments ago I had traveled with my own dear brother ; and along which I had seen so vividly a lean, gaunt, phantom hand pointing 194 LIFE IN DIXIE at his retreating- from. Even the horses' tracks and the ruts made by the wheels could be plainly traced by their freshness and the yet quivering- sands ; and as I g-azed upon them, I fancied they were connecting- links between me and him which were binding- our souls tog-ether, and which I^would never g-row weary in following-. These reflections were often disturbed by questions about "my dear brother Robert," and by alternate sobs and laug-hter. The distance seemed much g-reater, now that I was walking- it, but at leng-th we attained our destination, the headquarters of a few of General John Morg-an's g-allant defenders of Southern homes and firesides. It would require the descriptive power of a Sims or a Paul Hayne to g-ive an adequate idea of the meeting- on this occasion of this demonstrative brother and sister. I will not undertake to do so. He, too, was ready to move in that disastrous campaig-n, which lost to us the creme de la crane of the Army of the Tennessee, and which aided, as if planned by the most astute Federal tacti- cian, Sherman, in his "march to the sea." During- the interview between Colonel Alston and his sister, it developed to him that his pretty home had been abandoned to the tender mercies of the ene- my by the family in whose care he had left it, and that the Yankees had shipped his wife's eleg-ant Eu- ropean piano, mirrors and furniture, as well as his library, cut g-lass and Dresden china to the North; and, besides, in the very malig-nity of envy and sec- tional hate, had mutilated and desecrated his house in a shameful manner. His imprecations were fear- ful; and his vows to g-et even with the accursed Yan- DURING THE WAB. 195 kees were even more so. The lamb of a few moments ag-o was transformed into a lion, roaring- and fierce. He accompanied his sister and myself on our return to the station; and never will I forg-et that walk. The station reached, the scene of separation of brother and sister was ag-ain enacted, and he, too, went to battle-fields, sang-uinary and relentless, she to peace- ful retreats undisturbed b^^ cannon's roar. Here, as at Jonesboro, the face of the earth was literally covered with rude tents and side-tracked cars, which were occupied by exiles from home — defenseless women and children, and an occasional old man totter- ing on the verg-e of the g-rave, awaiting- their turn to be transported by over-taxed railroads farther into the constantly diminishing land of their love. During- the afternoon I boarded an already well-filled south- bound train, and moved about among its occapants as if at home. For were we not one people, the mothers, wives and sisters of Confederates ? The diversity of mind, disposition and temper of this long- train of rep- resentative women and children of Atlanta, and many miles contig-uous, who were carrying- minds and hearts brimful of memories never to be obliterated, but rather to harden into asphalt preservation, was illus- trated in various wa3^s. Some laughed and talked and jested, and infused the light and warmth of their own sunny natures into others less hopeful ; some were morose and churlish, and saw no hope in the future and were impatient with those who did see the silver lining- beyond the dark cloud suspended over us; and some ver}^ plainly indicated that if our cause failed, they would lose all faith in a prayer-answering- 196 LIFE IN DIXIE • God; and others saw wisdom and g-oodness in all His ways and dispensations, and were willing- to submit to any chastisement if it only broug-ht them nearer to the Mercy Seat. After man}^ delays and adventures, not of sufficient importance to relate, I reached Griswoldville. Here I was received with open arms b}^ that g-ood old father and mother in Israel, Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson and his wife, and his excellent famih^ whom I found residing- in an old freig-ht car. But they were living- in a palace compared to many of their neig-hbors and friends, who had scarcely a shelter to protect them from the inclemency of the weather. Every moment of time with these o-ood people was spent in answering- questions and receiving- blessing-s. Not long- after this pleasant meeting-, Stoneman's raiders came into Griswoldville, and the household effects of Dr. Wilson's family were consumed by devouring- torches. All their winter clothing-, the doctor's library and his manuscript sermons, were burned to ashes. These sermons were the result of the study and experience of forty j^ears. But this g-rand old soldier of the cross, although on the verg-e of threescore years and ten, faltered not ; for his eye was fixed on the g-oal of his heavenly inheritance. Wherever he went, he still preached, and died a few years afterwards at his post in Atlanta, having- missed but two preaching- appoint- ments in all his ministry, one of these on the Sabbath before he died. By a circuitous route, which I can now scarcely recall, in the course of time I reached Aug-usta, the beautiful. I wended my way throug-h the crowded DURING THE WAB. 197 thoroughfares to the residence of friends on Green street, where my sister had sojourned for several weeks, far from the distracting confusion of warfare. After all these long and varied years, I never see that Klysian street without feeling as if I would like to kneel and kiss the ground whereon she found surcease of hostile tread and rancorous foe. I could scarcely approach the house, in exterior beautiful in all that makes a home attractive. I feared that within sorrowful tidings might await me. No word of the absent sister had come through the enemy's lines since they were first established, and now I dreaded to hear. More than once I stood still and tried to nerve myself for the worst tidings that could be communicated. And then I ascended the stone steps and rang the door-bell. When the butler came, I hurriedly asked if Miss Stokes was in. As if apprehending my state of feelings, he answered with a broad African grin : "She is, ma'am." The pressure of a mountain was removed from my heart, and with a lighter step than I had taken for some time I entered that friendly portal, a welcome guest. A moment sufficed for him to carry the joyous tidings of my presence to my sister, and, as if by magic, she was with me. O, the joy and the sadness of our meeting ! To say that each of us was glad beyond our ability to express it, would be a tame statement ; and yet neither of us was happy. There was too much sadness connected with ourselves and our country to admit of happiness ; yet the report of our mother's fortitude and usually good health, and the hopeful spirit of our brother, and his numerous 198 LIFE IN DIXIE • messag-es of love and playful pliraseolog-y, cheered my sister so much that she rallied and did all she could to render my brief stay with her as pleasant as possible. And there was a charm in her sweet voice and pleasant words that were soothing- to me, and did much to assuag-e my own g-rief. Nor were our g-ood friends wanting- in efforts of like character. They, too, had drank deep of Marah's bitter waters. Two noble boys, yet in their teens, had been laid upon the sacri- ficial altar, an oblation to their country. And a fair young- g-irl had g-one down into the tomb, as much a sacrifice to Southern rig-hts as if slain on the battle- field. One other g-irl and her war-stricken parents survived, and they were devoting- their lives to the encourag-ement of those similarly bereaved. Althoug-h I knew it would pain her g-reatly, I thought it would be wrong- to leave without telling- my sister about Toby's death, and, therefore, I told her. Like our brother, she wept, but not as one with- out hope. She had been his spiritual instructor, and thoroug-hly taught him the g-reat and yet easy plan of salvation; and I have never doubted that he caug-ht on to it, and was supported by the arm of Jesus, as he "passed through the dark valley and the shadow of death. ^' The time for leaving this peaceful retreat came, and was inexorable ; nor would I have stayed if I could. There was a widowed mother, whose head was whitened, not so much by the frost of winters as by sorrow and care, grief and bereavement, awaiting my coming — oh, so anxiously ! Waiting to hear from the soldier son, who, even for her sake, and that of nUBING THE WAB. 199 his gentle young- wife and baby boy in Texas, would listen to no plan of escape from the' dangers involved by his first presidential vote. Waiting to hear from the fair young daughter, whom she preferred to ban- ish from home rather than have her exposed to the rude chances of war. That she might not be kept in painful suspense, I determined not to linger on the way. I, therefore, took the morning train on the good old reliable Georgia Railroad for Social Circle. The parting from my sister pained me exceedingly ; but I knew she had put her trust in the Lord, and He would take care of her. It may be asked why I did not have the same faith regarding the preservation of my brother. He, too, was a Christian. "He that taketh the sword shall perish by the sword," is a divine assertion, and it was constantly repeating itself in my ears ; yea, I had heard him repeat it with emphasis. The trip from Augusta to Social Circle was replete with melancholy interest, and differed very materially from the trip from Atlanta to Jonesboro. Here those who had the courage to do so were returning to their homes, and were on the q/ii vivc for every item of news obtainable from within the enemy's lines ; but nothing satisfactory encouraged their hope of better treatment. One marked difference appeared in the character of those who were venturing homeward. There was scarcely any 3^oung persons — not a single young lady. The good old mother railroad was very deliberate in her movements, and gave her patrons time to get acquainted and chat a little on the way, and this we did without restraint. 200 LIFE IN DIXIE. We discussed the situation, and narrated our diver- sified experiences, and this interchang-e of thought and feeling- broug-ht us very near tog-ether, and made us wondrous kind to one another. At one of the sta- tions at which the train stopped, and had to wait a long- while, I saw several of the young- soldiers from Decatur. Among- them was Ryland Holmes, and, I think, Mose Brown. About a dozen ladies were going- within the enemy's lines and would there separate for their re- spective homes. We agreed to hire a wagon team and driver at Social Circle, that we might take it "turn about " in riding to Stone Mountain. As I was the only one going beyond that point, I determined to take my chance from there for getting to Decatur, and go on foot if need be. Our plan was successful, as, after much effort, we obtained an old rickety wagon, which had doubtless done good service in its day, and a yoke of mis-mated oxen, and a negro dri- ver. For this equipage we paid an enormous sum, and, thinking we ought to have the full benefit of it, we all got into the wagon to take a ride. Compassion for the oxen, however, caused first one and then another to descend to the ground, and march in the direction of home, sometimes two abreast and some- times in single file. Night overtook us at a house only a short distance from the Circle, and in a body we appealed for shelter beneath its roof. The man of the family was at home, under what circumstances I have never heard, and to him we appealed, and from him we received an ungracious "permit" to stay in his house. Seeing no inviting prospects for rest and DUBING THE WAR. 201 repose, I established myself in a corner and took out of mj reticule some nice German wool that had been given to me by my friends in Augusta, and cast on the stitches for a throat-warmer, or, in the parlance of that day, "a comforter." Mine host watched the pro- cess with much interest. When the pattern developed, he admired it, and expressed a wish to have one like it. Glad of the privilege to liquidate my indebted- ness for the prospective night's shelter, I told him if he would furnish the material I would knit him one just like it. The material seemed to be in waiting, and was brought forward, soft, pretty lambs' wool thread, and I put it in my already well-filled hand satchel to await future manipulation. The accommodation in the way of bedding was inadequate, and more than one of our party passed a sleepless night ; but what mattered it ? Were we not Confederate soldiers, or very near akin to them ? As the first sunbeams were darting about among the tree tops, I donned my bonnet and bade adieu to our entertainers, and started on my journey homeward, walking. Being in the very vigor of womanhood, and in perfect health, I never experienced the sensa- tion of fatigue, and I verily believe I could have walked to my desolated home sooner than the most of the resources within our means could have carried me ; and I was impatient under the restraint and hindrance of slow teams. Hence my start in ad- vance of the other ladies. And I wanted to be alone. The pent-up tears were constantly oozing out of my eyes and trickling down m}^ face, and I wanted to open the flood-gates and let them flow unrestrainedly. 14 202 LIFE IN DIXIE • I wanted to cry aloud like a baby. I plunged into the woods, for the seldom traveled road was scarcely a barrier to perfect solitude. I walked rapidly, and closed my eyes to all the attractions of nature lest they divert my mind, and appease my hung-ry heart. I wanted to cry, and was even then doing- so, before I g-ot ready for it. At length I came to a rivulet of crystal water, as pure as the dew drops of Arcadia. I sat down beside it and ming-led the ang-uished tears of my very soul with its sparkling-, ever-chang-ing-, nec- tarian waters. I bathed my hot face and hands in the pellucid stream, and still the lachrymal fountain flowed on. I thoug-ht of my lonely mother, sur- rounded by those who were seeking the subversion of all that her heart held dear, and I cried. I thought of my brother — of his toilsome marches and weary limbs, and of his consecrated life — and I cried. I thought of the fair young sister, still hopeful in early woman- hood, and I refused to be comforted, and wept bitterly. In this disconsolate frame of mind, I was ready to give up all hope and yield to direful despair. At this fearful crisis a still, small voice whispered, "Peace, be still!" The glamour of love invested sky and earth with supernal glory. The fountain of tears ceased to flow, and I looked around upon the handi- work of the Great Supreme Being in whose creation I was but an atom, and wondered that He should have been mindful of me — that He should have given sur- cease of agony to my sorrowing soul. All nature changed as if by magic, and the witchery of the scene was indescribable. The pretty wildwood flowers, as I bent my admiring gaze upon them, seemed to say in DUBING 'THE WAB. 203 beatiful silent languag^e, "Look aloft." The birds, as they trilled their morning- roundelay, said in mu- sical numbers, "Look aloft; " and the merrj- rivulet at my feet affected seriousness, and whispered, "Look aloft." Thus admonished, "in that moment of dark- ness, with scarce hope in my heart," I looked aloft — looked aloft. By and by the ladies came in sight, some walking- and others riding- in the wagon ; and I pitied most those who were in the wagon. As soon as they were within speaking distance, one of the ladies said : "You should have stayed for breakfast. It was quite appetizing." Reminded of what I had lost, I was led to compare it with what I had gained, and I would not have exchanged loss and gain for anything in the world. I had to admit, however, that there was a vacuum that needed replenishing; but I was inured to hunger, and, save a passing thought, I banished all desire for food, and thought only of the loved ones, so near and yet so far, and in spite of m^'self the foun- tain of tears was again running over. The long tramp to Stone Mountain was very lonely. Not a living thing overtook or passed us, and we soon crossed over the line and entered a war- stricken section of country where stood chimneys onl3% where lately were pretty homes and prosperity, now departed. Ah, those chimneys standing amid smold- ering rviins! No wonder they w^ere called "Sherman's sentinels," as they seemed to be keeping guard over those scenes of desolation. The very birds of the air and beasts of the field had fled to other sections. By constant and unflagging locomotion we reached Stone 204 LIFE IN DIXIE • Mountain sometime during- the nig-ht. We went to the hotel and asked shelter and protection, and re- ceived both, but not where to lay our heads, as those who had preceded us had filled every available place. I had friends in the villag-e, but I had no assurance that they had remained at home and weathered the cyclone of war. Therefore, early in the morning-, hung-ry and footsore, I started all alone walking to Decatur. The solitude was terrific, and the feeling- of awe was so intense that I was startled by the break- ing- of a twig-, or the g-ruesome sound of my own footsteps. Constantly reminded by ruined homes, I realized that I was indeed within the arbitrary lines of a cruel, merciless foe, and but for my lonely mother, anxiously awaiting m}^ return, I should have turned and run for dear life until again within the boundaries of Dixie. I must have walkea very rapidly, for, before I was aware of it, I found myself approaching- Judge Bryce's once beautiful but now dilapidated home. He and his g-ood wife gave me affectionate greeting- and some- thing- to inflate a certain vacuum which had become painfully clamorous. And they also g-ave me that which was even more acceptable — a large yam potato and a piece of sausage to take to my mother. I begged Judg-e Bryce to g-o with me at least part of the way to Decatur, but lie was afraid to leave his wife. His experience with the Yankees had not been an exceptional case. They had robbed him of every- thing- of value, silver, gold, etc., and what they could not carry away they had destroyed, and he denied most emphatically that there was a sing-le gentleman DURING THE WAB. 205 in the Federal army. In vain did I tell him that we owed the preservation of our lives to the protection extended us bj the few gentlemen who were in it. After a brief rest, I resumed my way homeward, and oh, with what heart-sickening- forebodings I ap- proached that sacred though desolate abode ! Anon the little town appeared in the distance, and upon its very limits I met several of Colonel Garrard's calvary officers. Among them a diversity of temper was dis- played. Some of them appeared very glad to see me, and, to anxious inquires regarding my mother, they replied that they had taken good care of her in my ab- sence, and that I ought to have rewarded them for having done so by bringing "my pretty young sister" home with me. Although I did not entertain one iota of respect for the Federal army as a whole, I knew there were a few in its ranks who were incapable of the miserable conduct of the majority, and my heart went out in very tender gratitude to them, especially those who had sought to lessen the anguish of my mother. These men threw the reins into the hands of out-riders, and got off their horses and walked with me to the door of my home. Their headquarters were still in the yard and had been ever since first estab- lished there, with the exception of a very few days. My return was truly a memorable occasion. Manifes- tations assured me that the highest as well as the lowest in that command was glad to see me, and in their hearts welcomed me home. To good Mr. Fred Williams I was indebted, in a large measure, for kindly feeling and uniform respect from that portion of the Federal army with which I came in contact. 206 LIFE IN DIXIE • My mother had seen me coming- and had retreated into as secluded a place as she could find, to compose herself for the meeting", but the effort was in vain. She trembled like an aspen leaf, her lips quivered and her tongue could not articulate the words she would have spoken. Alas ! the tension was more than she could bear. I dwelt upon the fact that Thomie and Missouri were well and had sent her a world of love. I tried to infuse hope and cheerfulness into everything- I told her, but she could not see it, and her poor over-taxed heart could bear up no long-er, and she cried as Rachel weeping- for her children, long- and piteousl3\ No purer tears were ever borne b}^ heaven- commissioned Peri into the presence of a compassion- ate Savior, than those shed by that patriotic thoug-h sorrowinsf mother. DURING THE WAR. 207 CHAPTER XX. ON THE VKRGK OF STARVATION. A worn-out army horse is found— Uncle Mack makes a wagon— I make a unique trip— Starvation is warded off— Dangers and scenes by the way. " What is it, Ma ? Has anything- happened ?" " No, only Mag-g-ie Benedict has been here crying- as if her heart would break, and saying- that her chil- dren are beg-g-ing- for bread, and she has none to g-ive them. Give me a little of the meal or hominy that you have, that we may not starve until we can g-et something- else to eat, and then take the remainder to her that she may cook it as quickly as possible for her suffering- children." We had spent the preceding- day in picking out g-rains of corn from cracks and crevices in bureau drawers, and other improvised troug-hs for Federal horses, as well as g-athering- up what was scattered upon the g-round. In this way by dilig-ent and perse- vering- work, about a half bushel was obtained from the now deserted camping- ground of Garrard's cavalry, and this corn was thoroug-hly washed and dried, and carried by me and Telitha to a poor little mill (which had escaped conflag-ration, because too humble to at- tract attention), and g-round into coarse meal. Return- ing- from this mill, and carrying-, myself, a portion of the meal, I saw in the distance my mother coming- to 208 LIFE IN DIXIE meet me. Apprehensive of evil, I ran to meet her and asked : " What is it, Ma ? Has anything happened ?" With flushed face and tear-toned voice she replied as already stated. My heart was touched and a division was soon made. Before starting on this er- rand, I thought of the probable delay that inexperi- ence and perhaps the want of cooking utensils and fuel might occasion, and suggested that it would hasten the relief to the children to cook some bread and mush and carry it to them already for use. A boiling pot, left on the camping-ground, was soon on the fire ready to receive the well-prepared batter, which was to be converted into nutritious mush or porridge. Nor was the bread forgotten. While the mush was cooking the hoe-cakes were baking in good old plantation style. These were arranged one upon another, and tied up in a snow-white cloth ; and a tin bucket, also a trophy from the company, was filled with hot mush. I took the bread, and Telitha the bucket, and walked rapidly to Doctor Holmes' resi- dence, where Maggie Benedict, whose husband was away in the Confederate army, had rooms for herself and her children. The Rev. Doctor and his wife had refugeed, leaving this young mother and her childreu alone and unprotected. The scene which I witnessed will never be oblit- erated from my memory. On the doorsteps sat the young mother, beautiful in desolation, with a baby in her arms, and on either side of her a little one, pite- ously crying for something to eat. " Oh, mama, I want something to eat, so bad." " Oh, mama, I am BUBIKG THE WAE. 209 so hungry— g-ive me something to eat." Thus the children were begging for what the mother had not to give. She could only give them soothing words. But relief was at hand. Have you ever enjoyed the satis- faction of appeasing the hunger of children who had been without food until on the verge of starvation ? If not, one of the keenest enjoyments of life has been denied you. O, the thankfulness of such a privilege ! And oh, the joy, melancholy though it be, of hearing blessings invoked upon you and yours by the mother of those children ! While this needful food was being eaten with a zest known only to the hungry, I was taking in the situ- * ation, and devising in my own mind means by which to render more enduring relief. The meal we had on hand would soon be exhausted, and, though more might be procured in the same way, it would be haz- ardous to depend upon that way only. "God helps those who help themselves," is a good old reliable proverb that cannot be too deeply impressed upon the mind of every child. To leave this young mother in a state of absolute helplessness, and her innocent lit- tle ones dependent upon the precarious support which might be gleaned from a devastated country, would be cruel indeed ; but how to obviate this state of affairs was a serious question. The railroad having been torn up in every direc- tion communicating with Decatur, there seemed to be but one alternative— to walk— and that was not prac- ticable with several small children. " Maggie, this state of affairs cannot be kept up ; have you no friend to whom you can go ?" 210 LIFE IN DIXIE "Yes," she replied. "Mr. Benedict has a sister near Madison, who has wanted me and the children to g"o and stay with her ever since he has been in the army, but I was too independent to do it." " Absurd! Well, the time has come that you must go. Get the children ready, and I will call for you soon," and without any positive or defined plan of procedure, I took leave of Mag-gie and her children. I was working by faith, and the Lord directed my foot- steps. On my way home I hunted up " Uncle Mack," a faithful old negro man, who preferred freedom in the midst of privation with his own white people, to following the Federal army around on "Uncle Sam's" pay-roll, and got from him a promise that he would construct a wagon out of odds and ends left upon the streets of Decatur. The next thing to be done was to provide a horse, and not being amagician, nor possessed of Aladdin's lamp, this under- taking must have seemed chimerical to those who had not known how often and how singularly these scarcely formulated plans had developed into success. This day had been one of constant and active service, and was only one of the many that furnished from sixteen to eighteen working hours. No wonder, then, that exhausted nature succumbed to sleep that knew no waking until the dawn of another day. Next morning, before the sun rose, accompanied by the Morton girls, I was on my way to " the cane- brakes." I had seen many horses, whose places had been taken by others captured from farmers, aban- doned and sent out to the cane-brake to recuperate or to die, the latter being the more probable. Without DURING THE WAR. 211 any definite knowledg-e of the locality, but guided by an over-ruling- providence, I went direct to the cane- brake, and there soon made a selection of a horse, which, from the assortment at hand, could not have been improved upon. By a dextrous throw of a lasso, constructed and managed by the young friends already mentioned, he was soon captured and on his way to Decatur to enter "rebel" service. His most con- spicious feature was a pair of as fine eyes as ever illuminated a horse's head, large, brown and lus- trous. There were other conspicuous things about him, too ; for instance, branded upon each of his sides were the tell-tale letters, " U. S.," and on his back was an immense sore which also told tales. By twelve o'clock, noon. Uncle Mack appeared upon the scene, pulling something which he had improvised which baffled description, and which, for the sake of the faithful service I obtained from it, I will not attempt to describe, though it might provoke the risibilities of the readers. Suffice it to say that as it carried living freight in safety over many a bridge, in honor of this I will call it a wagon. Uncle Mack soon had the horse secured to this vehicle by ropes and pieces of crocus sack, for harness was as scarce a commodity as wagons and horses. I surveyed the equipage from center to circumference, with emotions pathetic and amusing. It was awfully suggestive. And as I viewed it in all its grotesqueness my imagination pictured a collapse, and my return home from no very distant point upon my all-fours, with one of the fours drag- ging after me in a dilapidated condition. I distinctly heard the derisive gibberish and laughter of old Mo- 212 LIFIJ IN DIXIE mus, and thoug-ht I should explode in the effort to keep from joining- in his mirthfulness. As I turned mj head to take a slj g-lance at my mother, our eyes met, and all restraint was removed. With both of us laug-hter and sobs contended for the master}^, and merriment and tears literally blended. Thus equipped, and with a benediction from my mother, expressed more by looks and acts than by words, I g-athered the ropes and started like Bayard Taylor to take "Views Afoot," and at the same time accomplish an errand of mercy which would lead me, as I led the horse, over a portion of country that in dreariness and utter desolation baffles description — enoug^h to know that Sherman's forag-ing- trains had been over it. Leading- the horse, which was already christened "Yankee," to Dr. Holmes' door, I called Mag-g-ie to come on with her children. "I can't bring- my thing-s out. Miss Mary. Some- body must come to carry them and put them in the wagon." "I can," I said, and suiting- the action to the word, ran into the house where, to my amazement, three larg-e trunks confronted me. What was to be done ? If they could be g-ot into the wag-on, what g-uarantee was there that poor Yankee could haul them in that tumblesome vehicle ? However, I went for Uncle Mack to put the trunks in the wag-on, and in front of them, in close proximity to the horse's heels, was placed a chair in which Mag-g-ie seated herself and took her baby in her lap, the other children nestling- on rug's at her feet. Poor Yankee seemed to feel the importance of his DURING THE WAB. 213 mission, and jog-g-ed along- at a pretty fair speed, and I, who walked by his side and held the ropes, found myself more than once oblig^ed to strike a trot in order to maintain control of him. Paradoxical as it ma}^ seem, I enjoyed this new phase in my service to the Confederacy — none but a patriot could render it, and the whole thing seemed invested with the glamour of romance, the sequel of which would be redemption from all connection with a people who could thus afflict another people of equal rights. While Maggie hummed a sweet little lullaby to her children, I con- templated the devastation and ruin on every side. Not a vestige of anything remained to mark the sites of the pretty homes which had dotted this fair coun- try before the destroyer came, except, perhaps, a standing chimney now and then. And all this struck me as the willing sacrifice of a peerless people for a great principle, and looking through the dark vista I saw light ahead — I saw white-robed peace proclaiming that the end of carnage had come. Even then, as I jogged along at a snail's pace (for be it known Yankee was not uniform in his gait, and as his mistress had relaxed the tension of the ropes, he had relaxed the speed of his steps) up a pretty little hill from whose summit I had often gazed with rapturous admiration upon the beautiful mountain of granite near by, I had so completely materialized the Queen of Peace that I saw her on the mountain's crest, scattering with lav^- ish hand blessings and treasures as a recompense for the destruction so wantonly inflicted. Thus my hope- ful temperament furnished consolation to me, even under darkest circumstances. 214 LIFE IN DIXIE • Ma^g-ie and the children became restive in their pent-up limits, and the latter clamored for something to eat, but there was nothing" to g"ive them. Nig-ht was upon us, and we had come only about eight miles, and not an animate thing had we seen since we left Decatur, not even a bird, and the silence was unbroken save by the sound of the horse's feet as he trod upon the rocks, and the soft, sweet humming of the young mother to her dear little ones. Step by step we seemed to descend into the caverns of darkness, and my brave heart began to falter. The children, awe- struck, had ceased their appeal for bread, and nestled closer to their mother, and that they might all the more feel her protecting presence, she kept up a con- stant crooning sound, pathetic and sad. Step by step we penetrated the darkness of night^a night without a moon, starless and murky. The unerring instinct of an animal was all we had to guide us in the beaten road, which had ceased to be visible to human ken. A faint glimmer of light, at apparently no very great distance, gave hope that our day's journey was almost ended. Yankee also caught the inspiration and walked a little faster. Though the time seemed long, the cabin, for such it proved to be, was finally reached, and I dropped the ropes, and, guided by the glimmer of light through the cracks, went to the door and knocked, at the same time announcing my name. The door was quickly opened. Imagine my surprise when recognized and cordially welcomed by a sweet friend, whose most humble plantation cabin was a pretty residence in comparison with the one she now occupied. Maggie, too, as the daughter of a well- DVRING THE WAB. 215 known physician, received cordial welcome for herself and children. And thus a kind Providence provided a safe lodging place for the night. Nature again asserted itself, and the children asked for something to eat. The good lady of the house kissed them, and told them that supper would soon be ready. The larger one of her little sons drew from a bed of ashes, which had been covered by glow- ing coals, some large yam potatoes which he took to a table and peeled. He then went outside the cabin and drew from a keg an earthen-ware pitcher full of sparkling persimmon beer, which he dispensed to us in cups, and then handed around the potatoes. And how much this repast was enjoyed! Good sweet yams thoroughly cooked, and the zestful persimmon beer ! And I thought of the lonely mother at a deso- lated home, whose only supper had been made of coarse meal, ground from corn which her own hands had helped to pick from crevices and cracks m impro- vised troughs, where Garrard's cavalry had fed their horses. After awhile the sweet womanly spirit that presided over this little group, got a quilt and a shawl or two, and made a pallet for the children. The boys put more wood upon the fire, and some in the jambs of the fireplace, to be used during the night; and then they went behind us and lay down upon the floor, with seed cotton for pillows, and the roof for cover- ing. Our kind hostess placed additional wraps over the shoulders of Maggie and myself, and we three sat up in our chairs and slept until the dawn. Accustomed to looking after outdoor interests, I went to see how Yankee was coming on, and found 216 LIFE IN DIXIE him none the worse for the preceding- day's toil. Everything- indicated that he had fared as sumptu- ously as we had — a partly-eaten pumpkin, corn, whole ears yet in the trough, and fodder near by, plainly showed the g-enerosity of the noble little family that took us in and gave us the best they had. After break- fast we bade adieu to the good mother and her chil- dren, and went on our way, if not rejoicing-, at least feeling better for having seen and been with such g-ood people. There was a strong" tie between us all. The husband and father was oif in the army, like our loved ones. The generous feeding- g-iven to our steed had so braced him up that he beg-an to walk faster, and was keenly appreciative of every kind word ; and I and he formed a friendship for each other that con- tinued to his dying- day. The road was very roug-h and hilly, and more than once he showed signs of fatigue ; but a word of encouragement seemed to re- new his strength, and he walked bravely on. Maggie would perhaps have lightened his load by walking now and then, but the jolting- of the wagon kept the trunks in perpetual motion, and the lives of the chil- dren would thereby have been jeopardized. Nothing of special interest transpired this second day of our journey. The same fiend of destruction had laid his ruthless hand upon everything within his reach. The woods had been robbed of their beauty and the fields of their products ; not even a bird was left to sing a requiem over the scene of desolation, or an animal to suggest where once had been a habita- tion. Once, crouching near a standing chimney, there was a solitary dog who kept at bay every at- JJUBING THE WAR. 217 tempt to approach — no kind word would conciliate or put him off his guard. Poor, lonely sentinel ! Did he remember that around the once cheerful hearth- stone he had been admitted to a place with the family group ? Was he awaiting- his master's return ? Ah, who can know the emotions, or the dim reasonings of that faithful brute ? Night again came on and I discovered that we were approaching the hospitable mansion of Mr. Montgomery, an excellent, courtly country gentleman, who was at home under circumstances not now remembered. He and his interesting family gladly welcomed me and my little charge, and entertained us most hospitably. The raiders had been here and helped themselves bountifully, but they had spared the house for another time, and that other time came soon, and nothing was left on the site of this beauti- ful home but ubiquitous chimneys. An early start the next day enabled Yankee to carry Maggie and her children and the trunks to Social Circle in time to take the noon train for Mad- ison. So far as Maggie and her children were con- cerned, I now felt that I had done all that I could, and that I must hasten back to my lonely mother at Deca- tur ; but Maggie's tearful entreaties not to be left among strangers prevailed with me, and I got aboard the train with her, and never left her until T had placed her and her children in the care of good Mr. Thrasher at Madison, to be conveyed by him to the home of Mrs. Reeves, her husband's sister. In Madison, I too had dear friends and relatives, with whom I spent the night, and the morning-'s train 15 218 LIFE IIS DIXIE bore me back to Social Circle, then the terminus of the Georg-ia Railroad — the war fiend having- destroyed every rail between there and Atlanta. Arriving- there, imag-ine my surprise and indig-nation when I learned that Mr. R , whom I had paid in advance to care for Yankee while I was g-one to Madison, had sent him out to his sorg-hum mill and put him to g-rinding- cane; and it was with much difficulty and delay that I g-ot him in time to start on my homeward journey that afternoon. Instead of his being rested, he was liter- ally broken dov/n, and m}^ pity for him constrained me to walk every step of the way back to Decatur. While waiting- for the horse, I purchased such articles of food as I could find. For instance, a sack of flour, for which I paid a hundred dollars, a bushel of potatoes, several g-allons of sorg-hum, a few pounds of butter, and a few pounds of meat. Even this was a heavy load for the poor jaded horse. Starting so late I could only get to the hospitable home of Mr. Crew, distant only about three miles from "The Circle." Before leaving Mr. Crew's the next morning, I learned that an immense Yankee raid had come out from Atlanta, and had burned the bridge which I had crossed only two days ago. This information caused me to. take another route to Decatur, and my heart lost much of its hope, and my step its alacrity. Yet the Ivord sustained me in the discharge of duty. I never wavered when there was a principle to be guarded or a duty to be performed. Those were praying days with me, and now I fervently invoked God's aid and protection in my perilous undertaking, and I believed that He would grant aid and protection. DURING TILE WAR. 219 That I might give much needed encouragement to Yankee, I walked by his side with m}^ hand upon his shoulder much of the time, an act of endearment which he greatly appreciated, and proved that he did so by the expression of his large brown eyes. One of my idiosyncrasies through life has been that of count- ing everything, and as I journeyed homeward, I found myself counting my steps from one to a thousand and one. As there is luck in odd numbers, says Rory O'Moore, I always ended with the traditional odd number, and by telling Yankee how much nearer home we were. And I told him many things, among them, sotio voce, that I did not believe he was a Yan- kee, but a captured rebel. If a tuft of grass appeared on the road side, he was permitted to crop it; or if a muscadine vine with its tempting grapes was discov- ered, he cropped the leaves off the low shrubbery, while I gathered the grapes for my mother at home with nothing to eat save the one article of diet, of which I have told before. A minute description of this portion of the war- stricken country would fill a volume; but only the leading incidents and events of the journey are admis- sible in a reminiscence of war times. In the early part of the day, during this solitary drive, I came to a cot- tage by the wayside that was a perfect gem— an oasis, an everything that could thrill the heart by its loveliness. Flowers of every hue beautified the grounds and sweetened the air, and peace and plenty seemed to hold undisputed sway. The Fiend of Destruction had not yet reached this little Eden. Two gentlemen were in the yard conversing. I 230 LIFE IN DIXIE perceived at a g-lance that they were of the clerical order, and would fain have spoken to them ; but not wishing- to disturb them, or attract attention to m3'self , I was passing- by as unobtrusively as possible, when I was espied and recog-nized by one of them, who proved to be that saintly man. Rev. Walter Branham. He introduced me to his friend. Professor Shaw of Oxford. Their sympathy for me was plainly expressed, and they g"ave me much needed instruction reg-arding- the route, and sug-g-ested that I would about g-et to Rev. Henry Clark's to put up for the nig-ht. With a hearty shake of the hand, and "God bless you, noble woman," I pursued my lonely way and they went theirs. No other adventure enlivened the day, and poor patient Yankee did the best he. could, and so did I. It was obvious that he had done about all he could. Grinding- sorghum under a hard taskmaster, with an empty stomach, had told on him, and he could no long-er quicken his pace at the sound of a friendly voice. At leng-th we came in sight of " Uncle Henry Clark's " place. I stood amazed, bewildered. I felt as if I would sink to the ground, 3^ea, through it. I was riveted to the spot on which I stood. I could not move. At length I cried — cried like a woman in despair. Poor Yankee must have cried too (for water ran out of his eyes), and in some measure I was quieted, for misery loves company, and I began to take in the situation more calml}^ Elegant rosewood and mahog- any furniture, broken into a thousand fragments, covered the face of the ground as far as I could see ; and china and glass looked as if it had been sown. And the house, wha,t of that ? Alas ! it too had been DURING THE WAR. 221 scattered to the four winds of heav^en in the form of smoke and ashes. Not even a chimney stood to mark its site. Near by stood a rowr of neg^ro cabins, intact, showing- that while the conflag-ration was g"oing- on they had been sedulously g-uarded. And these cabins were occupied by the slaves of the plantation. Men, women and children stalked about in restless uncer- tainty, and in surly indifference. They had been led to believe that the country would be apportioned to them, but they had sense enoug^h to know that such a mig"hty revolution involved trouble and delay, and they were supinely waiting- developments. Neither man, woman nor child approached me. There was mutual distrust and mutual avoidance. It took less time to take in the situation than it has to describe it. The sun was almost down, and as he turned his larg-e red face upon me, I fancied he fain would have stopped in his course to see me out of this dilemma. What was I to do ? The next nearest place that I could remember that would perhaps g-ive protection for the nig-ht was Mr. Fowler's, and this was my only hope. With one hand upon Yankee's shoulder, and the ropes in the other, I moved on, and not until my expiring- breath will I forg-et the plead- ing- look which that poor dumb animal turned upon me when I started. Utterly hopeless, and in my hands, he wondered how I could thus exact more of him. I wondered myself. But what was I to do but to move on? And with continuous supplication for the Lord to have mercy upon me, I moved on. More than once the poor horse turned that look, beseeching- and pathetic, upon me. It frightened me, I did not 222 LIFE IN DIXIE understand it, and still moved on. At last the hope of making himself understood forsook him, and he deliberately laid himself down in the road. I knelt by his side and told him the true state of affairs, and implored him not to desert me in this terrible crisis. I told him how cruel it would be to do so, and used many arg-uments of like character ; but they availed nothing-. He did not move, and his large, lustrous brown eyes seemed to sa}^ for him : "I have done all I can, and can do no more." And the sun could bear it no longer, and hid his crimson face behind a great black cloud. What could I do but rise from m}' imploring atti- tude and face my perilous situation? "Lord have mercy upon me," was my oft-repeated invocation. The first thing which greeted my vision when I rose to my feet was a very distant but evidently an advanc- ing object. I watched it with bated breath, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing a man on muleback. I ran to meet him, saying: " O, sir, I know the good Lord has sent you here." And then I recounted my trouble, and received most cordial sympathy from one who had been a Confederate soldier, but who was now at home in consequence of wounds that incapacitated him for further service. When he heard all, he said : "I would take you home with me, but I have to cross a swimming creek before getting there, and I am afraid to undertake to carry you. Wait here until I see these negroes. They are a good set, and what- ever they promise, the}^ will, I think, carry out faith- fully." The time seemed interminable before he came BVBING THE WAE. 223 back, and tiig-ht, black nig-ht, had set in ; and yet a quiet resig-nation sustained me. When my benefactor returned, two negro men came with him, one of whom broug-ht a lantern, brig-ht and cheery. "I have arrang-ed for you to be cared for here," said he. "Several of the old house servants of Mrs. Clark know you, and they will prove themselves worthy of the trust we repose in them." I accepted the arrangement made by this g-ood man, and en- trusted myself to the care of the neg-roes for the night. This I did with g-reat trepidation, but as soon as I entered the cabin an assurance of safety filled my mind with peace, and reconciled me to my surround- ing's. The "mammy" that presided o.ver it met me with a cordial welcome, and assured me that no trouble would befall me under her roof. An easy chair was placed for me in one corner in comfortable proximity to a larg-e plantation fire. In a few minutes the men came in bring-ing- my flour, potatoes, syrup, bacon, etc. This sig-ht g-ave me real satisfaction, as I thoug-ht of my poor patient mother at home, and hoped that in some way I should yet be able to convey to her this much needed freig-ht. I soon espied a table on which was piled many books and mag-azines ; "Uncle Henry Clark's" theological books were well represented. I proposed reading- to the women, if they would like to hear me, and soon had their undivided attention, as well as that of several of the men, who sat on the doorsteps. In this way several hours passed, and then "mammy" said, "You must be g:etting- sleepy." "Oh, no," I replied, "I frequently sit up all night reading." But this did not satisfy her; she had 224 LIFE IN DIXIE devised in her own mind something more hospitable for her g-uest, and she wanted to see it carried out. Calling- into requisition the assistance of the men, she had two larg-e cedar chests placed side by side, and out of these chests were taken nice clean quilts, and snow-white counterpanes, and sheets, and pillows — Mrs. Clark's beautiful bed-clothing- — and upon those chests was made a pallet upon a which a queen might have reposed with comfort. It was so tempting- in its cleanliness that I consented to lie down. The sole occupants of that room that nig-ht were myself and my hostess — the aforesaid black "mammy." Rest, not sleep, came to my relief. The tramping- of feet, and now and- then the muffled sound of human voices, kept me in a listening- attitude, and it must be con- fessed in a state of painful apprehension. Thus the night passed. With the dawn of day I was up and ready to meet the day's requirements. "Mammy's" first greeting- was, "What's your hurry?" " I am accustomed to early rising. May I open the door ?" The first thing- I saw was Yankee, and he was standing- eating- ; but he was evidently too weak to attempt the task of g-et- ting- that cumbersome vehicle and its freig-ht to Deca- tur. So I arrang-ed with one of the men to put a steer to the wag-on and carry them home. This he was to do for the sum of one hundred dollars. After an ap- petizing- breakfast, I started homeward, leading- Yankee in the rear of this turnout. Be it remembered, I did not leave without making- ample compensation for my nig-ht's entertainment. No event of particular interest occurred on the way DURING THE WAB. 225 to Decatur. Yankee walked surprising-l}^ well, emd the little steer acquitted himself nobly. In due time Decatur appeared in sig-lit, and then there ensued a scene which for pathos defies description. Matron and maiden, mother and child, each with a tin can, picked up off the enemy's camping--g-round, ran after me and beg-g-ed for just a little something- to eat — ^just enoug"h to keep them from starving-. Not an appli- cant was refused, and by the time the poor, rickety, cumbersome wag-on reached its destination, its con- tents had been g-reatly diminished. But there was yet enoug-h left to last for some time the patient, lov- ing mother, the faithful Telitha, and myself. A summary of the trip developed these facts : To the faithfulness of Uncle Mack was due the holding- tog-ether of the most g-rotesque vehicle ever dig-nified by the name of wag-on ; over all that road it remained intact, and returned as g-ood as when it started. And but for the sorg-hum g-rinding-, poor Yankee would have acted his part unfaltering•l3^ As for myself, I labored under the hallucination that I was a Confed- erate soldier, and deemed no task too g-reat for me to essay, if it but served either directly or indirectly those who were fig-hting- my battles. 226 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXI. A SKCOND TRIP FOR SUPPLIE:S. Gathering "fodder" frora a cane-brake as a preliminary — The lonely journey — Changing- Yankee's name— I meet the Fed- eral raiders. At an early hour in the morning- of a brig"ht autum- nal day, that memorable year 1864— the saddest of them all — Yankee was roped (not bridled, mark you), and crocus sacks, four for him, one for Telitha, and one for myself, thrown over his back, and we three, boon companions in diversified industries, scampered off to a neig-hboring cane-brake — a favorite resort in those days, but now, alas for human g-ratitude ! never visited for the sake of " auld lang- S3^ne." Perfect health — thanks to the parents who trans- mitted no constitutional taint to my veins — unusual strength, and elasticity of motion, soon carried me there, and having- secured Yankee to a clump of canes luxuriant with tender twig-s and leaves, sweetened by the cool dew of the season, Telitha and I entered upon the work of cutting- twig-s and pulling- fodder. There being- no drainag-e in those times, I often stepped upon little hillocks, covered with g-rass or aquatic veg-etation, that yielded to my weig-ht, and I sunk into the mud and water ankle deep, at least, and Telitha was g"oing- throug-h with similar experiences. I often laug-hed at her g-rimaces and other expressions of disg-ust in the sloug-h of despond, and rejoiced with her when she displa^^ed the trophies of success, consist- DURING THE WAB. 227 itig- of nice brittle twigs, g-enerousl}^ clad in tender leaves and full growth ; Yankee, too, was unmindful of small difficulties, and did his " level " best in pro- viding- for a rainy day by filling- his capacious paunch brimf'ul of the g-ood thing-s so bountifully supplied by Providence in the marshes of old DeKalb. By the time the aforesaid half dozen sacks were filled, the en- larg:ement of that org-an of his anatomy suggested that he proposed carrying home about as much inside of him as might be imposed upon his back— of this sagacity he seemed conscious and very proud, and when the sacks of cane were put over his back, pan- nier fashion, he pursued the path homeward with prouder air and nobler mien than that which marked his course to the cane-brake. When we three were fully equipped for starting back to the deserted village, Yankee, as already de- scribed, and I with a sack of cane thrown over my right shoulder, and reaching nearly to my heels, and Telitha, in apparel and equipment an exact duplicate of myself, I was so overcome by the ludicrous features of the scene that for the time I lost sight of the pa- thetic and yielded to inordinate laughter. As mem- ory, electrical and veracious, recapitulated the facts and circumstances leading to this state of affairs, I realized that there was but one alternative— to laugh or to cry— but the revolutionary blood cours- ing through my veins decided in favor of the former, and I laughed until I could no longer stand erect, even though braced by an inflexible bag of cane, and I ignominiously toppled over. As I lay upon the ground I laughed, not merrily, but grimly, as I fancy 228 LIFE IN DIXIE a hj^etia would laug-h. The mor^ I soug-ht the sym- pathy of Telitha in this hilarious ebullition, the more uncontrollable it became. Her utter want of apprecia- tion of the fun, and a vag-ue idea that she was in some way implicated, embarrassed her, and, judg-ing- from her facial expression, ever varying* and often pathetic, wounded her also. In vain did I point to our docile equine, whose tethering- line she held. His enlarg-ed proportions and g-rotesque accoutrements failed to touch a sing-le risible chord, or convey to her utilitarian mind aug^ht that was amusing*, and she doubtless wondered what could have so affected me. In due time we reached Decatur. After passing- the Hoyle place, the residence being- then deserted, Telitha indicated by sig-ns too intellig-ible to be mis- understood that she would g-o home with her sack of stock provender, leadings the horse, and then come back for mine, and I could g-o by a different route and not be known as a participant in the raid upon the cane-brake ; but I was too proud of my fidelity to the Southern Confederacy to conceal any evidences of it that the necessities of the times called into action, and I walked throug-h the stricken villag-e with my sack of cane in my arms instead of upon my back ; and would have walked as proudl}^ to the sacrificial altar, myself the offering-, if by so doing- I could have retrieved the fortunes of my people and established for them a g-overnment among- the nations of earth. The lowing- of our cow reached me as I entered the court-house square, and I hastened my g-ait and soon displayed before her, in her stall in the cellar, a tempting repast. And my mother, who possessed the DURING THE WAB. 229 faculty of making- something- g-ood out of that which was ordinary, displayed one equally tempting- to me and Telitha^milk and mush, supplemented by coffee made of parched okra seed. "Tired nature's sweet restorer" faithfully per- formed its recuperative service that nig-ht. When I opened my eyes upon the g-lorious lig-ht of another day, I was so free from the usual attendants upon f atig-ue that I involuntarily felt for my body — it seemed to have passed away during- the nig-ht, and left no trace of former existence. I found it, thoug-h, per- fectly intact, and ready to obey the behests of my will and serve me throug-h the requirements of another day. And my mother seemed to be in her usual health and willing- for me to do anything I thoug-ht I oug-ht to do. She could not close her eyes to the fact that our store of supplies was nearly exhausted, and that there was only one way to replenish it ; and she had the wisdom and the Christian g-race to acquiesce to the inevitable without a discourag-ing- word. Telitha, upon whose benig-hted mind the ridiculous phases of the previous day's adventures had dawned sometime in the interim, laug-hed as soon as she saw me, and in well-acted pantomime made me fully aware that she enjoyed at this late hour the ludicrous scene that had so amused me. And Yankee evidently smiled when he saw me, and g-reeted me with a joyous little whicker that spoke volumes. A g-ood breakfast for women and beast having- been disposed of, I wended my way in quest of Uncle Mack. He alone understood the complicated 230 LIFE IN DIXIE process of harnessing- Yankee in ropes to the prim- itive vehicle manufactured by his own ingenious hands, and to him I always went when this important task had to be performed. On this occasion, as upon others, it was soon executed. When all was ready and the unbidden tears dashed away, as if out of place, I seized the ropes and started ? Where ? Ah, that was the question. There was only one place that oifered hope of remuneration for the perilous un- dertaking-, and forty miles had to be traversed before reaching it. Forty miles through a devastated coun- try. Forty miles amid untold dangers. But in all the walks of life it has been demonstrated that pluck and energ-y, and a firm reliance upon Providence, are necessary to surmount difficulties, and of all these essentials I had a goodly share, and never doubted but that I would be taken care of, and my wants and those of others supplied. " God helps those who help themselves," is an adage which deserves to be em- blazoned upon every tree, and imprinted upon every heart. That vain presumption that folds the hands, and prays for benefits and objects desired, without putting forth any effort to obtain them, ought to be rebuked by all g-ood men and women as a machination of Satan. These and similar reflections nerved me for the task before me, and I started in earnest. When I g-ot to the " blacksmith shop," I looked back and saw my mother standing just where I left her, following me with her eyes. I looked back no more lest I dissolve in tears. As I passed the few abodes that were ten- anted, my mission "out" was apprehended, and I nUBING THE WAE. 231 was besought in tearful tones to bring- back with me all I could, by those who told me that they and their children were upon the verge of starvation. I took all the sacks which were handed to me and rolled them tog-ether, and by the aid of a string- secured them to the cart, and amidst blessing-s and g-ood wishes pursued my devious way ; for, be it remem- bered, many obstructions, such as breast-works and thorny hedg-e-wood, presented formidable barriers to rapid travel for a considerable distance from Decatur. While leisurely walking- beside Yankee, I was struck with the agility of his motion and his improved figure since we traveled over these grounds a few weeks before. He had taken on a degree of symmetry that I never supposed attainable by the poor, emaci- ated animal which I captured in the cane-brake. His hair had become soft and silky, and in the sunlight displayed artistic shades of coloring from light to deepest brown ; and his long, black tail, which hung limp and perpendicular, now affected a curve which even Hogarth might have admired, and his luxuriant and glossy mane waved prettily as a maiden's tresses. And his face, perfect in everylineament, and devoid of any indication of acerbit}^, lighted by large, liquid, brown eyes, would have been a fit model — a thing of beauty — for the pencil of Rosa Bonheur. Rubbing my hand over his silky coat and enlarged muscles, I decided to enjoy the benefit of his increased strength and gently ordered a halt. Stepping from the ground to the hub of the wheel, another step landed me into the cart, vehicle, wagon or landau, which ever you see 233 LIF:E in DIXIE proper to denominate it ; I do not propose to confine myself to any one of these terms. Yankee understood the movement, and doubtless felt complimented. As soon as I took my seat in the chair — a concomitant part of the equipag-e — he started off at a brisk g-ait, which, without a word of command, he kept up until we came to the base of a long- hill, and then he slackened his speed and leisurely walked to the summit. I enjo3^ed g^oing- over g-round without muscular effort of my own, and determined to remain in the cart until he showed some sign of fatig-ue. I had only to hold the ropes and speak an encourag*ing- word, and we traveled on right merrily. Ah, no! That was a misnomer. Callous indeed would have been the heart who could have g^one merrilj^ over that devastated and impoverished land. Sherman, with his destructive host, had been there, and nothing- re- mained within the conquered boundary upon which "Sheridan's Crow" could have subsisted. Nothing- was left but standing- chimneys, and an occasional house, to which one would have supposed a battering- ram had been applied. I looked up and down, and in ever}^ direction, and saw nothing- but destruction, and the g-aunt and malig-nant fig-ure of General Starvation striding- over our beautiful countr}^, as if he possessed it. I shook my head defiantly at him and went on, musing- upon these thing's. I never questioned the wisdom or goodness of God in permitting them, but I pondered upon them, and have never yet reached their unfathomable depths. At the end of the first day's journey, I found my- self twenty miles, or more, froir; the starting point, DURING THE WAR. 233 and tenderly cared for by a good family, consisting-, in these war times, only of a mother and several precious little children, who were too glad to have company to consider my appeal for a night's entertainment in- trusive. This desolate mother and children thought they had seen all the horror of warfare illustrated\y the premeditated cruelty of the Yankee raiders, and could not conceive how it could have been worse. But when I got through with my recital of injuries, they were willing that theirs should remain untold.' A delicious supper, like manna from Heaven, was en- joyed with a zest unknown to those who have never been hungry. The light of another day found us all up in that hospitable household, and an appetizing breakfast fortified me for another day's labor in any field in which I might be called to perform it. The little boys, who had taken Yankee out of the rope harness the evening before, remembered its intricacies and had no difficulty in getting him back into that complicated gear. When all was ready, and grateful good-byes had been uttered, I again mounted "the hub," and got into the vehicle. After I had taken my seat, the good lady handed me a package, which proved to be a nice lunch for my dinner. She also had a sack of potatoes and pumpkins stored away in the landau; and being a merciful woman, she thought of the horse, and gave some home-cured hay for his noon- day meal. All day I followed in the track of Sherman's min- ions, and found the destruction greater than when I had passed in this direction before. Coming to a hill, 16 234 LIFE IN DIXIE the long- ascent of which would be fatig-uing- to Yan- kee, I ordered a halt and g*ot out of the wag-on. Taking- position by his side, we climbed the hill to- g-ether, and then we went down it tog-ether, and con- tinued to journey side by side, I oblivious to every- thing- but the destruction, either complete or partial, on ever}^ side. At leng-th we came to a lovely wee bit stream of water, exulting* in its consciousness that no enem}' could arrest it in its course to the sea, or mar its beauty as it rippled onward. We halted, and I loosened the ropes so that Yankee mig-ht partake of the flowing- water before eating- his noonday meal. And I am sure epicure never enjo3'ed luncheon at Del- monico's with more zest than I did the frug-al meal prepared for me by the friendly hands of that dear Confederate woman. Much as I enjoyed it, I finished my dinner sometime before Yankee did his, and em- ployed the interim in laving- my hands and face in the pure water, and contemplating- myself in the perfect mirror formed by its surface. Not as Narcissus did I enjoy this pastime, but as one startled by the revela- tion. Traces of care, sorrow, apprehension for the future, were indelibly imprinted upon forehead and cheek, and most of all upon that most tell-tale of all features, the mouth. I wept at the chang-e, and by way of diversion turned from the unsatisfactory con- templation of myself to that of Yankee. This horse, instinct with intellig-ence, appreciated every act of kindness, and often expressed his g-ratitude in ways so human-like as to startle and almost affrig-ht me. I am sure I have seen his face lig-hted by a smile, and radiant with g-ratitude. And no human being- ever DURING THE WAB. 235 expressed more forcibly by word or act his sorrow at being- unable to do all that was desired of him in emerg-ency, than did this dumb brute when he g-ave me that long, earnest, pathetic look (mentioned in a former sketch ) when, from sheer exhaustion, he lay down near the heap of ashes where once stood the beautiful residence of my friend of honored memory. Rev. Henry Clark. The more I contrasted the treatment which I, in common with my country women and my country, had received at the hands of the Yankees ( the then expo- nents of the sentiment of the United States towards the Southern people), and the gentle, friendly de- meanor of the animal upon whom I had unthoughtedly bestowed a name constantly suggestive of an enemy, the more dissatisfied I became with it, and I deter- mined then and there to change it. Suiting the ac- tion to the decision, I gathered the ropes and led the noble steed to the brink of that beautiful little brook- let, and paused for a name. What should it be ? "Democrat?" I believed him to be a democrat, true and tried, and yet I did not much like the name. Had not the Northern democrats allowed themselves to be allured into abolition ranks, and made to do the fight- ing, while the abolitionists, under another name, devastated the country and enriched themselves by the booty. " Copperhead ?" I did not like that much. It had a metallic ring that grated harshly upon my nerves, and I was not then aware of their great service to the South in restraining and keeping subordinate to humanity, as far as in them I-y^ the hatred and evil passions of the abolitionists. ' ' Johnny P.^b ?" Ah, 236 LIFE IN DIXIE • I had touched the ke3'note at last, and it awakened a responsive chord that vibrated throug-hout m}^ very being-. I had a secret belief, more than once ex- pressed in words, that mj noble equine was a captured rebel "held in durance vile" until bereft of health and streng-th, then abandoned to die upon the com- mons. "Johnny Reb !" I no long-er hesitated. The name was electrical, and the chord with which it came in contact was charg^ed to its utmost capacity. With the placid waters of that ever-flowing- stream, in the name of the Southern Confederac}^ I christened one of the best friends I ever had "Johnny Reb," a name ever dear to me. This ceremony having- been performed to my satis- faction and to his, too — ^jud^ing- b}^ the complacent g-lances, and, as I fancied, by the sug-g-estion of an approving- smile which he bestowed upon me — I mounted the hub, stepped into the cart, seated m}- self, and with ropes in hand continued my way to " The Circle," and arrived there before night. Not being- tired, I immediatel}' struck out among* the vendors of home-made products — edibles, wearing- apparel, etc. — for the purpose of purchasing- a wag-on load to carry to Decatur, not for the ig-noble purpose of speculation, but to bestow, without money and with- out price, upon those who, like m}- mother and my- self, preferred hung-er and privation rather than g-ive up our last earthly home to the destroying- fiend that stalked over our land and protected Federal bayonets. Before the shades of nig-ht c?.me on I had accom- plished my object As a matter of history I will BUBING THE WAE. 237 enumerate some of the articles purchased, and annex the prices paid for them in Confederate money : One bushel of meal $10 00 Four bushels of corn 40 00 Fifteen pounds of flour 7 50 Four pounds dried apples 5 00 One and half pounds of butter 6 00 A bushel of sweet potatoes 6 00 Three gallons of syrup 15 00 Shoeing- the horse 25 00 For spending- the nig-ht at Mrs. Born's, self and horse 10 00 Not knowing- the capabilities of "Johnny Reb," I feared to add one hundred and thirty-six pounds avoirdupois w^eig-ht to a cart already loaded to repletion, and the next morning- on starting- took my old familiar place by his side. To my slig-htest touch or word of encourag-ement, he g-ave me an appreciative look and obeyed to the letter my wishes with reg-ard to his g-aits — slow or fast in adaptation to mine. In due time we ag-ain rested on the banks of the beauti- ful little stream hallowed by the memory of repudia- ting- a name, rendered by the vandalism of its leg-iti- mate owners too obnoxious to be borne by a noble horse, and by the bestowing- upon him of another more in keeping- with his respect for ladies and other fine traits of character which he possessed. Neither he nor I had lunch with which to regale ourselves ; and whilst he moved about at will cropping little tufts of wild growth' and tender leaves, which in- stinct taught him were good for his species, I aban- doned myself to my favorite pursuit — the contempla- 238 LIFE IN DIXIE tion of nature. Like Aurora Leig-li, I " found books among- the hills and vales, and running- brooks," and heid communion with their varied forms and invisi- ble influences. To me they ever spoke of the incom- prehensible wisdom and g-oodness of God. My heart, from my earliest recollection, always went out in ad- oration to Him who could make alike the g-rand old Titans of the forest and the humblest blade of grass ; and now I beheld them under circumstances peculiarly calculated to evoke admiration. Change had come to everything- else. The loft}^ trees stood in silent ^rnndeur, undisturbed b}' the enem3^'s step or the harsh clarion of war^as if defiant of danger — and gave shelter and repose to the humblest of God's creatures who soug-ht their protecting* arms. Beguiled by the loveliness of the woodland scener}', I often found myself stopping- to daguerreotype it upon the tablets of my memory, and to feast my senses upon the aromatic perfume of wildwood autumn flowers. "Strong words of counseling" I found in them and in "the vocal pines and waters," and out of these books I learned the " ignorance of men." " And how God laughs in Heaven when any man Says, ' Here I'm learned ; this I understand ; In that I am never caught at fault, or in doubt. ' -' A word of friendly g-reeting- and renewed thanks to mine hostess of two nights before, and her dear little children, detained me only a very short and unbe- g-rudg-ed space of time ; and during- that time I did not forget to refer to the potatoes and the pumpkin so kindl}^ given to me by them on my down trip, and DURING THE WAB. 239 which I could have left in their care until my return, had I thoug-ht of it. Nig-ht ag-ain came on, and this time found me pick- ing- my way as best I could over the rocks shadowed by Stone Mountain. On I plodded throug-h the darkness, g-uided rather by the unerring- step of Johnny Reb than any knowledg-e I had of the way. At leng-th the poor faithful animal and myself were rewarded for perseverance by seeing- g-limmering- lig-hts of the moun- tain villag-e. We struck a bee line for the nearest one, and were soon directed to "a boarding- house." I was too glad to g-et into it then, to descant upon its demerits now. I assured the landlady that I needed no supper myself, and would pay her what she would charg-e for both if she would see that the horse was well fed. I think she did so. My valuable freig-ht could not remain in the cart all nig-ht, and there was no one to bring- it in. In vain did she assure me that I would find it all rig-ht if I left it there. I g-ot into the cart and lifted the sacks and other thing-s out of it my- self, and, by the help of the aforesaid person, g-ot everything- into the house. I fain would have lain down by these treasvres, for they had increased in value beyond computation since leaving- Social Cir- cle, and would have done so but for repeated assur- ance of their safety. An early start next morning- g-ave me the privileg-e of g-oing- over the ground familiar to my youth in the loveliest part of the day, and when the sun looked at me over the mountain's crest, I felt as if I was in the presence of a veritable king-, and wanted to take m}^ bonnet off and make obeisance to him. His beneficent 240 LIFE IN DIXIE rays fell alike upon the just and the unjust, and lighted the pathwa}^ of the destroyer as brightly as that of the benefactor. Amid destruction, wanton and complete, and over which angels might weep, I stepped the distance off between Stone Mountain and Judge Bryce's ; not a living thing upon the face of the earth, or a sound of any kind greeting me — the deso- lation of war reigned supreme. I again stopped at Judge Bryce's, and implored his protection to Decatur, but, as on the former occasion, he was afraid to leave his wife to the tender mercy (?) of the enemy. He told me he feared I would not reach home with my cart of edibles, as "Yankee raiders had been coming out from Atlanta every day lately," and that the set that was now coming was more vindictive than an}^ that had preceded it. Good, dear Mrs. Br3xe, trusting in the Lord for future supplies, took a little from her scanty store of provisions and added it to mine for her friend, my mother. With many forebodings of evil, I took up the line of march to Decatur. I looked almost with regret upon my pretty horse. Had he remained the poor ugly animal that was lassoed in the cane-brake, I would have had but little fear of losing him, but under my fostering care, having become pretty, plump and sprightly, I had but little hope of keeping him. Being absorbed by these mournful reflections and not having the ever-watchful Telitha with me to announce dan- ger from afar, I was brought to a full realization of its proximity by what appeared to be almost an army of hluc-coats^ dashing up on spirited horses, and for the purpose of humiliating me, hurrahing "for Jeffer- DVBING THE WAB. 241 son Davis and the Southern Confederac3\" As a flag- of truce, I frantically waved my bonnet, which act was misapprehended and taken as a signal of approval of their "hurrah for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy," which was resounding- without inter- mission. Seeing- several very quiet, dig-nified looking- g-entle- men, who, althoug-h apart from the others, seemed to be exercising- a restraining- influence, I approached them and told them how I had g-one out from Decatur unprotected and all alone to g-et provisions to keep starvation from among- our defenseless women and children, and that I had to g-o all the way to Social Circle before I could g-et anything-, and that I had walked back in order to save the horse as much as possible. These men, however, althoug-h seeming-ly interested, questioned and cross-questioned me until I had but little hope of their protection. One of them said, "I see you have one of our horses. How did you come by him?" And then the story of how I came by him was recapitulated without exag-g-eration or diminution. This narrative elicited renewed hur- rahs for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy. A few minutes private conversation between these g-entlemen ensued, and all of them approached me, and the spokesman said, "Two of us will escort you to Decatur, and see that no harm befalls you." It seemed, then, that no g-reater boon could have been offered under the canopy of Heaven, and I am sure no woman could have experienced more g-ratitude or been more profuse in its expression. 242 LIFE IN DIXIE The sight of m}^ nervous, gTa3^-haired mother, and her prett}^ mother wa^^s, touched another tender chord in the hearts of these gentlemen, and if constraint ex- isted it was dispelled, and they became genial and very like friends before they left. They even promised to send us some oats for noble Johnny Reb, who dis- played the greatest equanimity all through these try- ing scenes. DURING THE WAB. 243 CHAPTER XXII. NKWS FROM THK ABSENT BKOTH^R. He marches into Tennessee with Hood — Extracts from his letters written on the way — Two ears of parched corn — The night burial of a soldier. After the majorit}' of these sketches were written, I was permitted by m}^ sister to take a few extracts from the cherished letters of our brother, which she numbered and carefully laid away as her most pre- cious treasure. To these we are indebted for all that we know of his history during- those trying- days and weeks of which I have just been writing-. Where was he, and how did he fare ? Few and far between were the letters now, in these dark days of the war. The soldiers themselves had but little opportunity to write, and the mail facilities were poor. But I feel sure that to the survivors of the "Lost Cause," these meag-re scraps concerning- that brave but disastrous march into Tennessee will be read with melancholy interest: " On the Line of Alabama and Georg-ia, Near Alpine, Ga., 8 o'clock at nig-ht, Oct. 17, 1874. "My Dear Sister— As there is a probability of the mail courier leaving- here eary in the morning-, I hastil}^ scratch you a few lines that you may know that under the blessing-s of a kind Providence I am 3^et alive, and, thoug-h somewhat wearied, enjoying- g-ood health. Yours of 28th of September has been re- ceived, but under circumstances of hard marches, etc.. 244 LIFE IN DIXIE • there has been but one opportunity of writing- to you since leaving- Palmetto, and then had just finished one to Texas, and was fixing- to write to you, when the order came to 'fall in.' "Well, leaving camps near Palmetto on the 29th of September, we crossed the Chattahoochee below, marched up to Powder Spring-s, threatened Marietta, and at the same time threw Stewart's corps around above Big- Shanty to cut the railroad, which was torn up for about thirteen miles, French's Division attack- ing Allatoona, where he sustained some loss, having- works to charge. Kctor's Texas Brigade, and some Missourians, carried their part of the works, but A 's Brigade failed to do their part, hence the advantage gained was lost. By this time the enemy were concentrating at Marietta, and General Hood's object being accomplished, he then marched rapidly towards Rome, flanking the place, and making a heavy demonstration as if he intended crossing the river and attacking the place. The enemy then commenced a concentration at Kingston and Rome. We then moved around Rome and marched rapidly up the Oostanaula, and, on the evening of the 11th inst., sent a division of infantry with some cavalry across the river, and captured Calhoun with some stores. Moved on the next morning by a forced march, flanking Resaca, and striking the railroad immediately above, tearing it up to Tilton where there were about three hundred Yankees in a block-house. A surrender was demanded. A reply was returned: 'If you want us come and take us.' Our artillery was soon in position and a few shots soon made them show the 'white rag-.' We tore DUBING THE WAB. 245 Up the road that nig-ht, and the next morning- by nine o'clock, to Tunnel Hill, burning- every cross-tie and twisting- the bars. Dalton surrendered without a fig-ht, with a full g-arrison of neg-roes and some white Yankees. The block-house above, at a bridg-e, refused to surrender, and we had to bring- the artillery into requisition ag-ain, which made them succumb. They all seemed to be taken by surprise and were hard to convince that it was a cavalry raid. They evacuated Tunnel Hill. Thus after five months of fig-hting- and running-, the Army of Tennessee re-occupied Dalton. Sherman has been taken by surprise. He never dreamed of such a move. General Hood's plans all being- carried out, so far as the State road was con- cerned, we marched across the mountains to LaFay- ette, in the vicinity of which we camped last night, and have marched twenty-three miles to-day. To- morrow we cross the Lookout Mountain, and will, I suppose, make directly for the Tennessee river, thoug-h of this I'm not certain. Hood has shown himself a g-eneral in strategy, and has secured the confidence of the troops. Wherever we go, may God's blessing- attend us. Pray for me. In haste. Your affectionate brother, Tom Stokes. "P. S.— Cherokee Co., Ala., Oct. 18, 1864. "The courier not leaving- this morning, I have a little more time left. We did not travel so far to-day as I heard we would, having- come only ten miles, and have stopped to rest the balance of the evening. I find you dislike to have your communications cut off, so I see you are below Madison. Would to Heaven 246 LIFE JN DIXIE • that, in one sense of the word my communication was cut off forever ; yea, that every channel leading me in contact with l/ie zcof/d, in any other character than as a minister of 'the meek and lowly Savior,' was to me forever blocked up. I am tired of con- fusion and disorder — tired of living- a life of contin- ual excitement * * *^ You spoke of passing through a dark cloud. ' There is nothing true but Heaven,' and it is to that rest for the weary, alone, to which we are to look for perfect enjoyment. We are to walk by faith, and though the clouds of trouble thicken, yet we should know that if we do our duty we shall see and feel the genial sun- shine of a happier time. Yes, my sister, though we knew our lives should be lengthened one hundred years, and everj^ day should be full of trouble ; yet if we have a hope of Heaven, that hope should buoy up the soul to be cheerful, even under earth's saddest calamities. "I think we will cross the Tennessee river and make for Tennessee, where it seems to be understood that we will have large accessions to our army, both there and from Kentucky * * *." The next letter is enclosed in an envelope which came through no postoffice, as it was furnished by m}^ sister, and upon it she wrote : "This letter was sent to me on the 27th of November, by some one who picked it up upon the street in Madison. The post- office had been rifled by the Federals who (under com- mand of Slocum) passed through Madison, Novem- ber 18th and 19th. Though found without an en- DURING THE WAR. 247 velope, and much stained, it has reached me, because sig-ned with his full neime." This letter is dated " Near Decatur, Ala., October 28th, 1864." We g-ive a few items : "We invested this place yesterday, and there has been some skirmishing- and artillery firing- until an hour ag-o, when it seems to have measurably ceased. We are in line of battle southwest of Decatur, about one and a quarter miles. I went out reconnoitering- this morning- and saw the enemy's position. They have a larg-e fort immediately in the town, with the ' stars and stripes ' waving- above. I hear occasional distant artillery firing- which I suppose is Forrest, near Huntsville. * * * We were several days cross- ing- Sand Mountain. Have had delig-htful weather until a day or two ago it rained, making- the roads very muddy, in consequence of which we have been on small rations, the supply trains failing- to g-et up. We had only half rations yesterday, and have had none to-day (now nearly three o'clock), but will g-et some to-night. We try to be cheerful. * * * No letter from Texas yet. No one of our company has had any intelligence from Johnson county since last May. I can't see what's the matter. I have been absent nearly one year and have received but one letter." (Of course the dear loved ones in Texas wrote to their soldier braves on this side the Mississippi river ; but such are the misfortunes of war that these missives were long delaj^ed in their passage). " Saturday, October 29th.— The condition of affairs this morning at sunrise remains, so far as I know, unchanged. * * * Yesterday evening we drew two 248 LIFE IN DIXIE ears of corn for a day's ration ; so parched corn was all we had yesterday ; but we will get plenty to-day." And now we come to the last of the letters ever received. It is probable it was among- the last he ever wrote. It is dated "Tuscumbia, Ala., Nov. 10, 1864. — . . We arrived at this place the 31st of October, and have been here since, thoug-h what we are waiting- for I can't tell. The pontoons are across the river, and one corps on the other side at Florence. We have had orders to be ready to move several times, but were countermanded. We were to have moved to-day, and even our wag-ons started off, but for some cause or other we have not g-one. The river is rising- very rapidly, which may endang-er the pontoons. "November 12th. — I thoug-ht to send this off yes- terday morning-, but, on account of the rain a few days ag-o, the mail carrier was delayed until last nig-ht, which broug-ht your dear letter of date October 31st. It was handed me on ni}^ return from the graveyard, where I had been to perform the funeral ceremony of a member of the 6th Texas, who was killed yesterday morning- by the fall of a tree. He had been in every battle in which this brigade was ever engaged; an interesting young man, only nineteen years of age. "The scene at the graveyard was a solemn one, being some time in the night before we arrived. The cold, pale moon shone down upon us, and the deep stillness which pervaded the whole scene, with the DVlilNd THE WAH. 2J9 roiig-h, uncouth, thoug-h tender-hearted soldiers with uncovered heads, forming- a larg-e circle around the g-rave, made it, indeed, a scene solemnly impressive. The print of m}- Bible being- small, I could not read, but recited from memory a few passag-es of Scripture suitable to the occasion, the one upon which I dwelt chiefly being- a declaration of Paul to the Corinthians, ' For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ.' I then spoke of the certainty of that chang-e from life to death ; that with the soldier, even, death is not confined to the battlefield ; spoke of our comrade, who but in the morning- bade as fair for long- life as any of us, but within the space of a few short hours was lying- in the cold embrace of death ; of another of our brig-ade who was instantly killed a short time since by a stroke of lig-htning- ; closed with an exhortation to all to live nearer to God, and be prepared at all times to meet their God in peace. Oh, how sad ! Far away from his home to be buried in a land of strang-ers. How the hearts of his father, mother and sisters must bleed when they receive the sad tiding-s. "I expect we will leave here for Middle Tennessee next Monday, as the river will be falling- by that time. There is much talk of this brig-ade being- sent home after this campaign. Major Rankin has been exchang-ed, and is with us. I g-ave Lieutenant Collins' overcoat to his company to take care of for him. "Am so g-lad to hear from ma and sister. We g-et no letters from Texas; but are continually sending- some over, as all the disabled of the last campaign are be- 250 LIFE IN DIXIE • ing" retired and sent across. Poor Uncle JamesI His Joseph is g"one. . . . Write to me often. Affectionately, Your Brother." Ah, could the history of these brave men be written, what a record it would be of endurance, of daring-, of heroism, of sacrifice! And the heart-breaking- pathos of the last chapters of their experience, ere thefurling- of the fiag^ they followed! Pat Cleburne and his fallen braves — "On fame's eternal camping g-roimd, Their silent tents are spread, And glory mai'ks with solemn round The bivouac of the dead." DUIUNO THE WAH. 251 CHAPTER XXIII. AN INCIDENT OF THE WAK. Related to the writer by Hon. Roger Q. Mills, of Texas. The nig-ht was black as Erebus. Not a scintil- lant of lig-lit from moon or star penetrated the dense forest, and no e3^e save that of God discerned the dan- ger of the situation. Hill and dale, mountain and precipice, creek and surg-ing- stream, presented bar- riers that none but men inured to hardship, and un- known to fear, would have attempted to surmount. Obedient to the command of the superior officer, the remnant of that mag^nificent and intrepid army, once g"uided bj the unerring- wisdom of Joseph E. Johnston, plodded their way uncomplaining^ly over these tr3nng- difficulties. The Lord must have been amazed at their temerit}-, and shook the very earth in rebuke, and ever and anon by the lig-htning-'s flash revealed g-limpses of the peril to which they were ex- posed; and 3'et in unbroken lines they g^roped their way, not knowing- whither. At leng-th bewildered, and made aware of impending- dang-er, the g-eneral in command ordered a halt. The martial tread ceased, and all was still as death. In the midst of this still- ness a voice, sweet as that of a woman, was heard re- peating- that g-rand old h3'mn, which has given com- fort to many weary ones treading the wine press : 252 LIFE IN DIXIE. '' How tirm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word I What more can He say than to you He hath said, You who unto Jesus for refuge have fled. " In every condition, in sickness, in health, In poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth. At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea, As thy days may demand shall thy strength ever be. " Fear not, I am with thee, O I be not dismayed, I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid ; I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand. Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand. " When through the deep waters I call thee to go. The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow ; For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless. And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. " When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie. My grace all sufficient shall be thy supply ; The flame shall not hurt thee ; I only design Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine. " E'en down to old age, all My people shall prove My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love : And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne. " The soul that on .lesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I will not desert to his foes ; That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I'll never, no never, no never, forsake." General Mills said that during- the rendition of this beautiful hymn, not even the breaking- of a twig-, or the changing of a footstep broke the silence of the midnight tranquillity. The rain drops ceased to DURING THE WAR. 253 fall ; the electricity darted harmless^ throug-h the tree tops ; and the muttering- of the thunder lulled. After a most impressive silence of several minutes, the same voice, which had rendered the hymn so effectually, repeated from memory an appropriate passag-e of Scripture and proceeded to expatiate upon it. He had not uttered a dozen words before another flash of lig-htning- revealed the upturned heads and listening- attitudes of the men composing- that weird cong-reg-ation, and each one of them knew as if by instinct that he was g'oing- to hear some- thing- that would help him on his journey to the Land of Beulah. Strong- in the faith, he carried many of the truths and promises of the Holy Word within his mind, and now, as many times before, he opened them by the mag-ic key of memory and unfolded to view their unsearchable riches. He beg-ged his fel- low-men and comrades in arms to accept them with- out money and without price— to accept them that they mig-ht wear king-ly robes and royal diadems, and be with Jesus in His Father's reg-al mansions throug'h- out the grand eternities. And as he told the old, old story of divine love, it assumed a contemporaneous interest and seemed a living- present reality. Every man who heard it felt the living- force and energ-izing- influence of the theme. And thus by earnest, agg-ressive appeals, he exerted a wonder- ful power for good over the minds of his hearers ; and those men, even now with phantom hands pointing gaunt fingers at them, by their deep inter- est testified to the warm suffusing purpose which made itself felt in every word that he uttered, as he 254 LIFE IN DIXIE told of the Fatherhood of God and the ever-present sympathy- of a benig-nant and infinite parent, who delig-hted not in the death of sinners, but rather that all should come to Him and have eternal life. Gen- eral Mills added that, as the fine resonant voice of the speaker penetrated the dense forest and found its way to his hearers in distinct enunciation of well- chosen words, the deep-toned thunder emphasized the impressive points, and made it a scene which for g-randeur and sublimity has never been surpassed, while the vivid flashes of lighning- revealed again and ag-ain the earnest face and solemn mien of my brother. Lieutenant Thomas J. Stokes, of the Tenth Texas Infantry of Cleburne's Division. DVBING THE WAR. 255 CHAPTER XXIV. Picking- up minie balls around Atlanta — Exchanging- them for bread. After ming'ling- renewed vows of alleg"iance to our cause, and expressions of a willing- submission to the consequences of defeat — privations and evil dire, if need be — with my morning- orison ; yet I could not be oblivious to the fact that I was hung-ry, very hung-ry. And there was another, whose footsteps were becom- ing- more and more feeble day by da}^, and whose voice, when heard at all, was full of the pathos of despair, who needed nourishment that could not be obtained, and consolation, which it seemed a mockery to offer. In vain did I look round for relief. There was nothing left in the countrj^ to eat. Yea, a crow flying over it would have failed to discover a morsel with which to appease its hung-er; for a Sheridan by an- other name had been there with his minions of destruction, and had ruthlessly destroyed every vestig-e of food and every means of support. Every larder was empty, and those with thousands and tens of thous- ands of dollars, were as poor as the poorest, and as hungry too. Packing- trunks, in every house to which refugees had returned, contained larg-e amounts of Confederate money. We had invested all we pos- sessed except our home, and land and neg-roes, in Con- federate bonds, and these were now inefficient for pur- 256 LIFE IN DIXIE chasing- purposes. Gold and silver had we none. A more favored few had a little of those desirable me- diums of purchase, and sent a great distance for sup- plies ; but they offered no relief to those who had stayed at home and borne the brunt of battle, and saved their property from the destroyers' torch. What was I to do ? Sit down and wait for the in- evitable starvation ? No ; I was not made of such stuff. I had heard that there had been a provision store opened in Atlanta for the purpose of bartering- provisions for munitions of war — anything- that could be utilized in warfare. Minie balls were particu- larly desirable. I therefore took Telitha by the apron, and had a little talk with her, and when I was throug-h she understood that something- was up that would bring- relief to certain org-ans that had become quite troublesome in their demands, and she was anxious to take part in the performance, whatever that mig-ht be. I went also to my mother, and im- parted to her my plans of operation, and she took that pathetic little backward step peculiar to herself on occasions which tried her soul, and with quivering- lip she assented in approving-, thoug-h almost inaudi- ble words. With a basket in either hand, and accompanied by Telitha, who carried one that would hold about a peck, and two old dull case-knives, I started to the battle-fields around Atlanta to pick up the former missiles of death to exchang-e for food to keep us from starving-. It was a cold day. The wind was very sharp, and over the ground, denuded of forest trees and nURlNG THE WAR. 257 undergrowth, the wind was blowing- a miniature g-ale. Our wraps were inadequate, and how chilled we became in that rude November blast! Mark j^ou, it was the 30th of November, 1864. But the colder we were, the faster we walked, and in an incredibly short time we were upon the battle-field searching- for lead. I made it a point to keep verj^ near the road in the direction of Atlanta, and soon found myself on the very spot where the Confederate mag-azine stood, the blowing up of which, by Confederate orders, shook the very earth, and was distinctly heard thirty-five or forty miles distant. An exclamation of g-lad sur- prise from Telitha carried me to her. She had found a bonanza, and was rapidly filling- her basket with that which was more valuable to us than g-old. In a marshy place, encrusted with ice, innumerable bullets, minie balls, and pieces of lead seemed to have been left by the irony of fate to supply sustenance to hun- g-ry ones, and employment to the poor, as all the win- ter those without money to send to more favored and distant points found sure returns from this lead mine. It was so cold ! our feet were almost frozen, and our hands had commenced to bleed, and handling- cold, rough lead cramped them so badly that I feared we would have to desist from our work before filling the baskets. Lead ! Blood ! Tears ! O how suggestive ! Lead, blood and tears, mingled and commingled. In vain did I try to dash the tears away. They would assert them- selves and fall upon lead stained with blood. "God of mercy, if this be Thy holy will, give me fortitude to 258 LIFJ^ IN DIXIE • bear it uncomplaining-ly," was the heart-felt invoca- tion that went up to the throne of g-race from over lead, blood and tears, that fearful day. For relief, tears did not suffice. I wanted to cry aloud ; nature would not be satisfied with less, and I cried like a baby, long- and loud. Telitha caug-ht the spirit of grief, and cried too. This ebullition of feelings on her part broug-ht me to a realization of my duty to her, as well as to my poor patient mother to whom the day must seem very long-, and I tried to stifle my sobs and lamentations. I wondered if she had the forebod- ing-s of coming bereavement that were lacerating my own heart. I did not doubt but that she had, and I cried in sympathy for her. At length our baskets were filled, and we took up our line of march to the desolated city. There were' no labyrinths to tread, no streets to follow, and an occasional question secured information that enabled us to find the " commissar}-" without delay. Telitha was very ambitious that I should appear a lady, and wanted me to deposit my load of lead behind some place of concealment, while we went on to deliver hers, and then let her g-o back for mine. But I was too much a Confederate soldier for that, and walked bravely in with my heavy, precious load. A courteous gentleman in a faded grey uniform, evidently discharged because of wounds received in battle, approached and asked what he could do for me. "I have heard that you g-ive provisions for lead," I replied, "and I have brought some to ex- change." What seemed an interminable silence en- DURING THE WAlt 359 sued, and I felt without seeing- that I was undergoing- a sympathetic scrutiny, and that I was recognized as a lady " to the manor born." "What would you like in exchange," he asked. ' 'If you have sugar, and coffee, and meal , a little of each if you please," I timidly said. "I left nothing to eat at home." The baskets of lead were removed to the rear and weighed, and in due time returned to me filled to the brim with sugar, coffee, flour, meal, lard, and the nicest meat I had seen in a long time. "O, sir, "I said, " I did not expect so much." " You have not yet received what is due you," this good man replied, and handed me a certificate which he assured me would secure as much more on pre- sentation. Joy had gone out of my life, and I felt no thrill of that kind ; but I can never describe the satisfaction I experienced as I lifted two of those baskets, and saw Telitha grasp the other one, and turned my face homeward. LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXV. The Decatur women's struggle for bread — Sweet singing in hard places — Pleasant visitors — I make a trip to Alabama — The news of my brother's death. The tug- of war was upon us from the mountains to the sea-board, and ing-enious was the woman who devised means to keep the wolf, hung^ry and ravenous, from the door. The depreciation of our currency, and its constant diminution in value, had rendered it an unreliable purchasing- commodit}^ and we had noth- ing* to g-ive in exchang-e for food. I, therefore, felt that I had literally rubbed ag-ainst Aladdin's lamp when I saw much needed food, good and palatable, g-iven in exchang-e for minie balls, and for any kind of metal convertible into destructive missiles, and I was anxious that others should share the benefit accruing- from the lead mines mentioned in a former sketch. In pursuance of this humane desire, I pro- claimed its discovery and results from house to house; for, mark 3^ou, we had no "Daily Courier," nor mes- seng-er boy to convey the g-lad tiding-s to the half- famished women and children in and around Decatur. And if my words could have been chang-ed into dia- monds by the magic wand of a fairy, not one of those starving- people would have accepted the chang-e of diamonds for bread. It required only a short time to raise a larg-e com- pany of women, g-irls and little boys, who were ready DURING THE WAR. 261 to do service for themselves and their country b}- dig-- ging- lead with case-knives from mines providentially furnished them. And was it not serving- the cause of the Confederacy ? I thought so ; and never walked with more independent step than when acting as gen- eralissimo of that band of devoted, patriotic women, eii route to the "lead mines" around Atlanta. Telitha, too, evidently felt that she was an important adjunct in the mining enterprise, and a conspicuous personage in the scenes being enacted, and emphasized her opinion by strong and suggestive gesticulation. On this occasion she pla3^full3^ wrenched from m^^ hand the small vessel with which I had supplied m3'Self and which I carried on the former trip, and substituted a larger one, while for herself she got at least a half- bushel measure. All who remember the month of December, 1864, know that it abounded in clouds and rain and sleet, and was intensely cold in the Confederate States of America; and in the latitude embracing Atlanta, such severit}^ of weather had never been known to the oldest inhabitant. But what mattered it? Each one in that little band of women was connected b}^ a bright link to the illustrious armies that were enduring greater privation and hardship than those to which she was exposed, and counted it a willing oblation upon his country's altar, and why should she not prove faithful to the end, and suffer the pangs of hunger and privation too ? The work of picking up minie balls began as soon as we reached the battle-field, and, consequently, we carried several pounds some distance unnecessarily. 262 LIFE IN DIXIE The "mine" proper, I doubt not, could have filled several v^ag-ons. As " a little fun now and then is relished bj the wisest men," I found a grim smile as- serting" itself at the quaint and read}- wit of those es- timable g"irls, the Misses Morton, whose Christian names I have forgotten and who, alas ! have long since joined the silent majority. One of them as- sumed the character of a Confederate soldier and the other that of a Federal, and the conversation carried on between them, as they "exchanged. coffee and to- bacco," was rich, rare and racy. The exchange having been effected, the signal of combat was given. "Look out, Billy Yank !" "Look out, Johnnie Reb !" were simultaneous warnings from opposing forces, and minie balls whizzed through the air, much to the mer- riment of the little boys who wished themselves men, that they might be with their fathers, whizzing minie balls from musket mouths. The sham battle over, the work of digging lead was resumed, and in an amazingly short time our vessels were filled to overflowing. I watched Telitha with interest. She was eager to fill her basket, and more than once she said, "Me full !" and added a lit- tle gutteral laugh that alwa3's indicated pleasure. Her attempt to raise the basket from the ground, and her utter failure to do so surprised her amazingl}^ and her disappointment was pathetic. With great reluctance she saw her treasure reduced to her ca- pacit}^ of handling. Each member of the party expe- rienced similar disappointment on attempting to raise her burden, and we left more exhumed lead and other valuables than we carried away. DURING THE WAR. 263 We took up our line of march, and as there were no obstructions in the way (for, be it remembered, Sher- man had been there, and with torch and explosive re- moved all obstructions save the standing: chimneys and carcasses of horses and cattle shot by his order to prevent the possibility of use to the rebels), we struck a bee-line to the commissary. As the first to take ad- vantage of this industry, I took the lead, and the vig-or of 3'Oung- womanhood, and " a heart for every fate," g-ave elasticity to my steps, and I soon outdis- tanced even the g-irls. In due time we reached the commissary, and in a short while a most satisfactory exchang-e was made, thanks to one whose g-reat heart beat in unison with ours, and in lieu of the heavy burden which we laid down, we picked Up food for the nourishment of our tired bodies and those of our loved ones at home. Oh, how light, comparatively, it seemed ! I verily believe if it had weig-hed the same number of pounds, it would have seemed lig-hter, and the chang-e would have seemed restful. "Good-bye, noble ladies and sisters in a righteous cause," was the parting salutation of our no less noble benefactor. With our respective packages of food we again turned our faces homeward, solemn as a funeral march, for, strive against them as we would, we all had forebodings of ill, and the swaying of our bodies and our footsteps kept time with the pulsations^ of our sad hearts. I fancied as I approached standing chimneys and other evidences of destroyed homes, that the spirit of Sherman, in the guise of an evil spirit, was laughing over the destruction his diabolism had wrought. In the midst of these reflections a 264 LIFE IN DIXIE song-, which for sweetness and tranquilizing- melody I have seldom heard equalled and never, surpassed, broke the stillness of the scene and added to the mel- ancholy interest of the occasion. ^ It was the well known ballad, then familiar to every -child in the Con- federacy, "When this Cruel War is Over," and sung- by those g-ifted sisters mentioned as a part of the lead dig-ging- company. The pure, sweet soprano voice of one of the girls put to flig-ht the spirit of Sherman, and when it was joined by the flute-like alto of the others, every evil spirit within and without was exorcised, , and the spirit of submission took its place. And 3-et as the words rang- out and found an echo in m}- own heart, I had to walk very straight, and turn my head neither to the right nor to the left, lest I betra^^ the copious tears trickling- down my cheeks. At length pent-up feeling-s burst the fetters, and an audible sob removed restraint, and we cried as women burdened with great sorrow. Precious tears! Nature's kind alleviator in time of trouble. "The day was cold and dark and dreary, And it rained and the winds were never weary," and yet I was nerved for its duties and toil by the consciousness of having met, uncomplainingly, the work which the preservation of my own principles made me willing to endure. Several days subse- quent to this trip to Atlanta, the Morton girls came running in and told me that we had some delightful friends at the "vSwanton place," who requested to see us. My mother was too much exhausted by anxiety and waiting for that which never came, tq go, but DURING THE WAB. 265 approved my doing- so. I, therefore, donned my sun- bonnet and went ; and whom should I meet but Mrs. Trenholm and her sweet young- daug-hters, Kssie and Lila ? I was delig-hted to see them, and invited them to g-o home with me. Ma received them in a spirit of cordial hospitality, and they were invited to remain at her house. Without hesitation, Mrs. Trenholm accepted the proffered kindness, and returned to her wayside rendezvous only to send her trunks, bedding- and other household 'g-oods. And truly the coming- of that saintly woman and those lovely g-irls was a rare benediction, especially at that time. Day by day ma looked in vain for tiding-s from "the front" — wherever that mig-ht be — and day by day her health and streng-th was perceptibl}^ weakened by disap- pointment. Mrs. Trenholm's sympathy with her in her suspense reg-arding- the operations of Hood's army, and the fate of her beloved son, was both touching- and consoling-. Seeing- that my mother and myself were hoping- almost ag-ainst hope, she endeav- ored to bring- us to a realization of that fact, and a complete submission to the will of God, even thoug-h that will deprived us of our loved one. All of her Christian arg-uments and consolations had been pon- dered over and over by mother and daughter, but they never seemed so sweet and potent as when com- ing- in the chaste and simple languag-e of a precious saintly woman. With the tact peculiar to the refined of ever}^ clime and locality, Mrs. Trenholm assumed manag-e- ment of the culinary department, and her dinner- pot hung- upon our crane several weeks, and 18 266 LIFE IN DIXIE daih^ sent forth appetizing- odors of bacon and peas. How we enjoj^ed those peas and that bacon, and the soup seasoned with the onl}^ condiments at our com- mand — salt and red pepper — and the good hoe cakes ! Mrs. Trenholm had a large sack of cow peas, and a sack of dried fruit, and other articles of food which she had provided for herself and her family before she left Southwest Georgia en 7'oute to her home in Marietta, which she left in obedience to the order of William Tecumseh Sherman, and which she learned, before reaching Decatur, had shared the fate of nearly all other homes which had to be thus aban- doned. Although magnanimously proffered, we were averse to sharing Mrs. Trenholm's well-prepared and ofttimes tempting cuisine, unless our proportion of food equaled hers ; and fearing even the appearance of scanty supplies, I set about to gather up "the miners," so that we might appoint a day to again go lead digging, if that which we left in as man}- little heaps as there were members of the company had been, in the interim, gathered up by others. On former occasions I had led my company to vic- tory over that malignant general left by Sherman to complete his work, and styled b}^ him "General Star- vation," and they were willing to go wherever I led. Now, I had two recruits of whom I was very proud. Telitha, too, had gathered from observation that the sweet young Trenholm girls were going with us, and she set about to provide very small baskets for their use, which, with gestures amusing and appropriate, she made us understand were large enough to contain all the lead that girls so pretty and so ladylike ought nUBlNG THE WAR. 267 to carry. To their credit, however, they repudiated that idea, and carried larg-er vessels. By appoint- ment the "lead dig"g"ers " were to meet at the tan- yard, those arriving- first to wait until the entire number came. "Man proposes and God disposes." Just as my last g-lov^e was drawn on, Telitha, ever on the alert, said "Morton, Morton," and I looked and saw the girls coming-. "We needn't g-o — the commis- sary has folded its tents, and silently stolen away," was the voluntary announcement. Imagine my con- sternation and disappointment — the last hope of supply cut off ! Ma saw the effect upon me, and said in a more hopeful voice than was her wont, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." And good Mrs. Trenholm said her sack of peas was like the cruse of oil that never seemed to diminish in quantity, however much was taken out of it. An examination, too, of Our own resources was quite gratifjnng; but I knew I ought to be "providing for a rainy day." I pass now over an interval which brings me to the latter part of January, 1865. My sister returned home from Madison and spent several weeks with us, but had accepted an offer to teach at Grantville, on the LaGrange and West Point Railroad.- I had a precious aunt, my mother's sister, Mrs. Annie Wat- son, whom I loved dearly, and of whom I had not heard a word since the interruption of the mail com- munication by the siege of Atlanta, and my mother's frequent mention of her determined me to go and see if this beloved aunt was living, and, if so, in what condition. I knew she was one of the favored ones 268 LIFE IN DIXIE • of earth, viewed from a worldl}^ standpoint, but I knew not what changes had come over her or her worldly possessions. Rumor conveyed startling- ac- counts of the atrocious deeds of Wilson's raiders, and I knew that they were operating in that rich cotton belt of Alabama which embraced my aunt's planta- tion and beautiful home. I could scarcely hope that that home and its valuable appointments had escaped the cupidity of an organized band of robbers protected by the United States Government. When I think of m^^ mother's fond affection for her children, and her tender solicitude for their welfare, I am constrained to think that she thought I was en- dowed with a sort of charmed existence not subject to the perils which beset the pathway of ordinary mortals, and hence her ready acquiescence to my proposition to undertake a journey of many miles, under circumstances of imminent danger, inspired with confidence amounting to certainty that I would be preserved bj- an All-wise Providence for future use- fulness. I had very little preparation to make for the contemplated trip. A pretty, small-checked dress, which had done service through many a changing scene, and was good for as many more, and a hat — well, I beg to be excused from describing it — and gloves upon which I had expended skill in darning until it was difficult to perceive where the darning ceased and the glove began, completed my toilet, and I bade to all appearance a cheerful good-bye to my mother and kind friends, and went by private convey- ance to Fairburn. There I took the train for Cowles' Stiition, Alabama. DURING THE WAR. 269 Nothing- of particular interest transpired on the wa}'. M}^ countr}^ was prostrate and bleeding- from nian}^ lacerations, and my tears flowed so freely that by the time I reached my railroad destination I had a very sick headache. That "there is a providence that shapes our ends" was ag-ain illustrated. Some of my aunt's neighbors, who knew me at least by name, were at the station, and kindly offered to carry me to her residence, a distance of ten miles. I found my aunt in feeble health, and all alone save her usual dusky attendant. Her only child, Mrs. Mary E. Sea- man, had g-one to Tuskeeg-ee to see her little daugh- ter, who was there going to school in care of a friend and relative. Col. Smith Graham. My closest scru- tiny failed to detect any change in my aunt's mode of living. The same retinue of servants came into the house to see and shake hands with mistress' niece, and after many questions about "our white folks in Georgia," retired from my presence with the same courtesy that had marked their demeanor towards me in ante-bellum da^^s. My aunt manifested her joy at seeing me in manj- ways, and wept and smiled alternately, as I related m}' adventures with the Yankees. "And my sister, what was their treatment of her?" M}' evasive an- swer, "It could have been worse," heightened her de- sire to learn particulars, and I told them to her. She was grateful for all leniency shown by them, and affected to tears by unkindness. As the day waned, and the middle of the afternoon came on, my aunt proposed walking "to meet Mary." I supported her fragile form, and guided her footsteps in the best 270 . LIFE IK DIXIE • part of the road. How like her beloved sister in Georg-ia she seemed! Accustomed to this little diver- sion, for she alwa3^s went to meet Mary, she had reckoned accurately reg'arding- the time of her daugh- ter's coming-, and we had not g-one far when we saw the carriag-e descending- a declivity in the distance. Nelson, the coachman, had also recog-nized "Mistress and Miss Mary," and announced his discovery to my cousin. Increased speed in the gait of the horses soon brought us together^ and she opened the door and stepped to the ground. After kissing her dear mother, she encircled me in her arms, and kissed me time and again, and then assisted me into the car- riage, and she and her mother followed. I greeted the coachman in a cordial manner, because of past service and present fidelity to " mistress and my white folks " generally. With ni}^ rapidit}- in conversation, I could scarcely keep up with m}' cousin's questions. Happy woman! She had never seen any " Blue-coats," or, in the par- lance of the times, "Yankees," and she enjo^^ed my description of them, especiall}^ when in answer to the question, " Do they look like our men ?" I attempted to define the difference. It was amusing to me to hear her describe the preparations she made for the com- ing- of Wilson and his raiders. After reaching home, she left her mother and my- self only a few minutes. I scarcely perceived her ab- sence, and yet when she returned the disparity in our dress was not so apparent. The elegant traveling suit had been exchanged for her plainest home attire, and every article of jewelry had disappeared. The brief DURING THE WAR. 271 period spent with these dear relatives was spent in mutual efforts to entertain and amuse each other. Mj aunt's conversation was like sweet music in which minor chords abounded. Her love for her sister, and apprehension of evil, g-ave a pathetic turn to every conversation she attempted, and it was evident to me that she had given up all hope of my brother's safety, and her resignation under similar circum- stances was a g-reat support to me. Much as I enjoyed this luxurious home, and its re- iined appointments, there was a controlling motive — a nearer tie — that made me willing to again take up the hardships and perils of warfare, and battle for life with that relentless enemy left by Sherman to complete his cruel work, the aforesaid General Star- vation. After many farewell words were spoken, I left my aunt, accompanied by her daughter, who went with me to the station for the purpose of seeing me on the train bound for Fairburn, then the terminus of the rail- road. It was past noon when the train left the sta- tion, and in those days of slow railroad locomotion, it was all the afternoon reaching West Point. I learned before reaching there that I would have to remain over until the next morning, and, therefore, as soon as i stepped from the cars, started to hunt a place at which to spend the night. Wending my way, solitary and alone, through the twilight, I saw Mr. John Pate, the depot agent at Decatur, coming to- wards me. "Oh, Mr. Pate, have you heard anything from ma in the last week T 272 LIFE IN DIXIE • "Yes; it went very hard with her, but she was some better this morning-." I did not have to ask another question. I knew it all, and was dumb with g-rief. The thoug-ht that I would never see my darling- brother ag-ain paralyzed me. I saw him in the mirror of m}^ soul, in all the periods of his existence. The beautiful little baby boy, looking- at me the first time out of his heavenly blue eyes, and his second look, as if not satisfied with the first, followed by the sug-g-estion of a smile. Ah, that smile ! It had never failed me throug-h successive years and varying- scenes. The boyhood and youth — hone*st, truthful and g-enerous to a fault — and the no- ble, genial boyhood, had all developed within my recollection, and I loved him with an intensity border- ing- on idolatry. These scenes and many others ?"ushed throug-h my mind with kaleidoscopic rapidity and made me so dizzy that I had no knowledg-e of how I reached the "hotel." My heart cried and re- fused to be comforted. From the consolation of re- lig-ion and patriotism it recoiled and cried all the more. A g-reat tie of nature had been sundered, and the heart, bruised and crushed and bleeding-, pulsated still with vitality that would have flickered out but for the hope of g-iving- comfort to the poor bereaved mother and sister in our g-reat sorrow. Good ladies bathed my throbbing- temples and kissed my cheeks and spoke comforting- words, for they were all drink- ing- the bitter waters of Marali, and knew how to reach the heart and speak of the balm of Gilead. "Killed on the battle-field, thirty steps from the breastworks at Franklin, Tennessee, November 30th, DUBINO THE WAB. 273 1864," was the definite information reg-arding- ni}^ brother's death, left for me by Mr. Pate. Interminable as the darkness of nig-ht appeared, it at length gave way to the lig-ht of day, and I was ready with its dawn to take the train. But, oh, the weig-ht of this g-rief that was crushing- me ! Had the serpents which attacked Laocoon, and crushed him to death by their dreadful streng-th, reached out and embraced me in their complicated folds, I could not hav^e writhed in g-reater ag^ony. I did not believe it was God's will that my brother should die, and I could not say to that Holy Being-, " Thj^ will be done." In some way I felt a complicity in his death — a sort of personal responsibilit3^ When my brother wrote to me from his adopted home in Texas that, having- voted for secession, he believed it to be his duty to face the dang-er involved by that step, and fig-ht for the principles of self-g-overnment vouchsafed by the Constitution of the United States, I said noth- ing- in reply to discourag-e him, but rather I indicated that if I were eligible I should enter the the contest. These, and such as these were the harrowing refiec ions which accused me of personal responsibility for the demon of war entering- our household and carry- ing off the hope and prop of a widowed mother. I found my poor stricken mother almost prostrate. The tidings of her son's tragic death did the work apprehended by all who knew her nervous tempera- ment. Outwardly calm and resigned, 3^et almost paralj^zed by the blow, she was being tenderly cared for by our saintly neighbor, Mrs. Ammi Williams and her family, who will always be held in grateful re- membrance by her daughters. 274 LIFJE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXVI. MY mother's death. Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson performs the funeral service In S3^mpath3^ with a disappointed people who had staked all and lost all in the vain effort to defend the inherited rig-hts of freemen, and had not 3^et rallied from the depression occasioned by defeat, the spring- of 1866 had withheld her charms, and, instead of donning- a mantle of green, decorated with pansies, violets and primroses, hyacinths, bluebells and daffo- dils, verbenas, phlox and geraniums, and bloom of Adne and briar in endless variety, the first day of April found her wounded, bleeding- bosom wrapped in the habiliments of sorrow and despondenc3^ A few brave old apple trees, as if to encourage the more timid, had budded and blossomed and sent forth sweet fragrance as of yore, and a few daring- sprigs of grass suggested spring-time and sunny skies. Loneliness, oppressive and melancholy, and a spirit of unrest, prompted me to go to the depot in quest of something that never came, and my sister had stepped over to our neighbor, Mrs. Williams'. Our mother loved the spring-time. It had always been her favorite season of the year. Fifty-nine ver- nal suns had brought inspiration and hope to her sensitive, tender heart, and given impulse to a check- ered life ; but now no day-star of hope shed its efful- ofence for her. As I mentioned in a former sketch, her DURING THE WAR. 275 only son had fallen mortally wounded upon the san- g^uinary battle-field of Franklin, and she had never recovered from the shock. After a few months of patient endurance, an at- tack of paralysis had occurred, and during" many da3^s life and death contended for the victory. But the skill of g-ood physicians, among- them Dr. Joseph P. Lo- g"an, and faithful, efficient nursing-, aided in g-iving- her a comfortable state of health lasting- throug-h sev- eral months. But the fiat had g-one forth, and now after a pathetic survey of earth, ming-led with thank- fulness even then to the God of the spring--time, she succumbed to the inevitable. Returning- from the depot, I espied in the distance the approaching- fig-ure of Telitha. As she came up to me she was the ver^^ picture of despair. With one hand clasped to her head, she fell on the ground and la}' as if dead for a moment. My worst apprehen- sions were more than realized. I found my mother speechless, and never more heard her voice — never more heard any sound emanating- from her lips except labored, heavy breathing. It was all so sudden and strang-e and sad, I cannot describe it. Neig-hbors and friends came in b}' the score, and did all they could to mitig-ate our g-reat sorrow. "Johnnie" Hardeman stayed until all was over, and mother never received from loving- son kinder care or more unremitting- at- tention. Paul Winn also remained and manifested deep sympathy, and so did other neig-hbors. Oh, the sorrow, the poig-nant sorrow, to see a mother in the embrace of death, and to have no power over the monster ! About thirty hours of unconsciousness, 276 LIFE IN DIXIE • and without a strug-g-le, "life's fitful dream was over," about 9 o'clock p. m., April 1st, 1866. The silent hush that ensued w^as sacred, and scarcely broken by the sobs of those most deeply afflicted. Loving- hands fashioned a shroud, and a beautiful casket was obtained from Atlanta. When all was done, and our mother arrayed for the tomb, she looked like the bride of Heaven. I g-azed long- and earnestly upon her face and fig'ure, and went away and came back, and g-azed again admiring-ly. For every lineament was formed into a mold that compelled admiration. During- the two days that she lay there, I often ling-ered by her side ; and I recalled the many scenes, ofttimes perilous and sad, and ofttimes joyous and g"ay, throug-h which we had g-one tog-ether. Althoug-h a wee bit g-irl, scarcely turned in mj^ fifth year at the time of my mother's second marriag-e, I remembered her as a bride. I remembered our jour- ney by gig and wag-on to Cassville, then, paradoxical as it may sound now, situated in the heart of a wilderness of beauty and savag-er}^ The war-whoop of an uncivilized race of Indians, justly ang-ry and resentful, reverberated though the impenetrable for- est that belted the little settlement of white people that had the hardihood and bravery to make their homes among them. I remembered how she soon be- came a favorite, and was beloved by every one in that sparsely-settled locality, and won even the hearts of the Indians, by kindness towards them. She taught them how to make frocks and shirts, and JJURING THE WAR. 277 clothes for their children, for the Cherokees were an ambitious people, and aspired to assimilation with the white race; and, to please them, she learned to bead moccasins, and other articles, ornamental and useful, just as they did. She also learned their alapha- bet, and became able to instruct them in their own lang-uag-e. I remembered how she had alwa3's worked for the poor; not so much in societies (where the g-ood that is accomplished in one way is often more than coun- terbalanced by the harm that is done in others), as in the quiet of her home, and in the humble habitations of God's poor. I remembered, with a melancholy thrill, how she had worked for our soldiers, and had not withheld g-ood deeds from an invading- alien army. Reverently I took in mine her little, symmet- rical hand as it lay peacefully over the heart that had ever beat in unison with all that was g-ood. It was weather-beaten, and I could feel the roug-h places on the palm through the pretty white silk g-love in which it was encased. Cold and stark in death, it g-ave no responsive pressure to my own. I thoug-ht of its -past service to me in which it never tired. It had trained my own from the rudimentary "straig-ht lines" and "pot hooks," throug-h all the intricacies of skilled penmanship, and from the picturesque letters on a sampler to the complete stitches of advanced em- broidery. The little motionless hand that I now held in my own had picked corn from cracks and crevices in bureau drawers, which served as troug-hs for Gar- rard's ceivalry horses, to make bread with which to 278 LIFE IN DIXIE • appease her hung-er and mine. I g-azed upon the pallid face and finely-chiseled features. The nose never seemed so perfect, or the brow so fair, or the snow- white hair so beautiful. The daintiest of mull caps heightened the effect of the perfect combination of feature, placidity- and intellectual expression. I fancied I had never seen her look so beautiful, and felt that it was meet that we should la}^ her away in a tomb where she could rest undisturbed until the resurrection morn, not doubting- that the verdict of a great and good God would assign her a place among His chosen ones. Soothing to our bruised hearts was the sweet singing of those who watched at night beside her lifeless form. With gratitude we remember them still : Laura and Mary Williams, Emma and John Kirkpatrick, Josiah Willard and John McKoy. One of the hj^mns thej- sang was "Jerusalem, My Happy Home." ^ The hour for the funeral service came. Friends and neighbors and fellow-citizens had been assem- bling for several hours, and now the house was full, and the yard was thronged. Where did this con- course of people come from — old men, war-stricken veterans, and a few 3'oung men who had survived the bloody conflict that had decimated the youth of the South, and boys and women and girls I All alike came to pay respect to the deceased friend, and to show sympathy- for the bereaved and lonely sisters. That sainted man and friend of ours. Rev. John S. Wilson, took his stand near the casket, and we sat nUlilNG THE WAR. 270 near him, and those who loved us best g-ot very. near to us. Ah, well do I remember them ! I could call each b}^ name now, and the order in which they came. An impressive silence ensued, broken b}^ the man of God uttering in hopeful intonation and animated manner, " She is not dead, but sleepeth," and a sermon followed upon the resurrection of God's people, never surpassed in interest and pathos. All felt the power of his theme, and the eloquence of his words. He also spoke of the humble modesty of his friend, who had counted herself least in the congregation of the right- eous, and dispensed favors to others in an unobtrusive manner, and who practically illustrated the divine command : " Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you." This beautiful funeral tribute was succeeded b}- the hymn — "Rock of ages, cleft for me," which was sung with an unction which none but Christians can feel. The last earthly look, solemn and earnest, was taken of our long-suffering, patient, loving mother, and everybody in the house followed our example and gazed reverentl}^ upon the pretty face, cold in death. And then the pall-bearers, "Johnnie" Kirk- patrick, "Johnnie" Hardeman, Virgil Wilson and Mr. G. W. Houston, bore her to the grave. With uncovered head and grey locks fluttering in the vernal breeze, Dr. Wilson repeated the beautiful burial service of the Presbyterian Church. I can never describe the utter desolation of feeling I ex- perienced as I stood clasped in the arms of my sis- 280 LIFE IN DIXIE ter, and heard the first spadeful of earth fall over the remains of our loved one. But we had heard above all the glorious words, "This mortal shall put on immortality," and "O, death, where is th}' sting- ? O, g-rave, where is thy victory ? " WRING THE WAU. 281 CHAPTER XXVII. A KEMINISCENCE. "Sister, you are not paying- any attention what- ever to my reading-, and you are losing the most beau- tiful thoug-hts in this delightful book." "Yes, and I am sorry to do so; but I think I see one of Rachel's children— Madaline or Frances." My sister closed her book, and, looking in the direction indicated, ag-reed with me that the neg-ro woman, clothed in the habiliments of widowhood, who was coming- up the avenue with a little boy by her side and one in her arms, was one of Rachel's chil- dren; and, although she was scarcely in her teens when she went away, she was a mother now, and traces of care were visible in every lineament of her face. I recog-nized her, however, as Rachel's 3^oung- est daughter, Frances, and went to meet her. "Is that you, Frances? " I asked. "Yes, Miss Mary, this is me; your same nigger Frances, and these are my children." "I am glad to see you and 3-our children;" and I ex- tended my hand in genuine cordiality to her who had once been a slave in my mother's family, and I bade her welcome to her old home. Frances was too de- monstrative to be satisfied with simply hand-clasping, and putting her boy on the ground, she threw her arms 19 282 LIFE IN DIXIE • around me and literall}^ overwhelmed me with kisses. My hands, neck and face were covered with them, and she picked me up and carried me in her arms to the house, her children following- in amazed astonishment. She now turned her attention to them, and, after deliberately shaking- the wrinkles out of their clothes, she as deliberately introduced them to me. The older of the two she introduced as "King- by name," and the young-er as " Lewis b}' name." "You see. Miss Mary, I named my children King- emd Lewis 'cause my white folks named my brothers King- and Lewis. The ceremony of introducing- her sons to /icr old zvhitc folks being- performed to her satisfaction, she ag-ain turned her attention to me, and ag-ain literally overwhelmed me with caresses. Entering- the house, I asked Frances and her chil- dren to come in too. "Miss Mary, whar's Miss Polly ?" "Have you not heard, Frances, that ma is dead ?" "Seem to me I has heard somethin' about it, but some how I didn't believe it. And m}^ poor Miss Polly is dead ! Well, she ain't dead, but she's g-one to heaven." And Frances became quite hysterical in demonstra- tions of g-rief. "And Marse Thomie, what about him. Miss Mary?" "He was killed by the enemy at Franklin, Tenn., the 30th of Novenber, 1864." "Miss Mary, did them old Yankees kill him?" "Yes, he was killed in battle," WRING THE WAR. 283 And a^aiti, whether sincere or affected, Frances became hysterical in demonstrations of g-rief. "Miss Mar}^ whar's Miss Missouri? Is she dead too?" " No ; that was she who was sitting- in the portico with me as you were coming- up the avenue. She always has to g-o off and compose herself before meeting- any of you — ma was that way, too — I suppose you remind her of happier days, and the contrast is so sad that she is overcome by g-rief and has to g-et relief in tears. "Yes'm, I have to cry, too, and it does me a mon- stous heap of g-ood. I know it's mig-hty childish, but I jest can't help it. Jest to think all my white folks is done dead but Miss Mary and Miss Missouri !" "Our brother left a dear little boy in Texas, and I am g"oing- after him next winter. He and his mother are g"oing to live with us, and then we will not be so lonely." " That's so. Miss Mary." Frances and her children having partaken of a bountiful supper, she resumed, with renewed vigor, her erratic conversation, which consisted, chiefly, of innumerable questions, interspersed with much mira- culous information regarding herself since she left her white folks and became a wife, a mother, and a widow. "Miss Mary, whar's my children going to sleep to- night?" "With your help I will provide a comfortable place for them, and, also, for you." 284 LIFE IN VIXIE • And taking- a lantern and leading- the way to the kitchen, I entered and pointed to a lig-ht bedstead, and told her to carry a portion of it at a time to my room, and we would put it up in there. " Same old room, jest like it was when me and my mammy used to sleep in it. "Well, thing's do look mig-hty nateral if it has been a long- time since I seed it. "And Miss Mary is ag-oing- to let me and my chil- dren sleep in her room. Well !" The bedstead having- been placed in position, a mat- tress and bed clothing- were furnished. And soon the little neg-ro children were soundly sleeping- under the protecting- roof of their mother's former young- mis- tresses. "Whar's your teakettle. Miss Mary?" Having- been told where to find it, Frances took it to the well and filled it with water, and, by adding- a little more fuel to the fire, soon had it boiling-. "Whar's your bath-tub. Miss Mary?" That, too, was soon produced and supplied with hot water, reduced to proper temperature. Memo- ries of the past left no doubt in my mind as to the use to which the water was to be applied, and I de- termined to gratify every fancy that would g-ive pleasure to our former handmaid, and, therefore, I made no resistance when g-arters were unbuckled, shoes and stocking-s removed, and feet tenderly lifted into the tub. She knew just how long to keep them there, and how to manipulate them so as to give the most satisfaction and enjojniient ; and how to dry them — a very important process. And then the shoes BUBING THE WAR. 285 and stocking-s were ag"ain put on, and g-iving- me an affectionate pat on the head she told me to sit still until she told me to move. " Now, whar's your comb and brush ?" The force of habit must have impelled her to ask this question, as, without awaiting- an answer, she went to the bureau and g^ot the articles about which she had asked, and in a few moments she had m}^ long, luxuriant black hair uncoiled and flowing- over my shoulders. She was delig-hted ; she combed and braided it, and unbraided and combed it ag-ain and again, and finally, as if reluctant to do so, arranged it for the night. "Now, whar's your gown ?" "You will find it hanging in the wardrobe." Having undressed me, Frances insisted upon put- ting the gown on me, and then wanted to scarry and put me in bed ; this se^-vice, however, I declined with thanks. All these gentle manipulations had a sopo- rific effect upon me, and I fain would have slept, but no such pleasure was in store for me. Prances had an axe to grind, and I had to turn the grindstone, or incur her displeasure. Mark her proposition : " Miss Mary, I come to give you my children.'' "Your what ?*' " My children, these smart little boys. I'll go with you to the court-house in the morn in' and 3^ou can have the j)apers drawn up and I'll sign 'em, and these little niggers will belong to you 'til they's of age to do for theyselves ; and all I'll ever ask you to do for me for 'em is to raise them like mv Miss Poll}^ raised me." 286 LIFE IN DIXIE " That you should be willing- to give your children awa}^ Frances, surprises me exceedingly. If you are without a home, and would like to come here and live, I will do all I can for you and your children. The kitchen is not occupied, only as a lumber or bag*- gage room, and you can have that without paying rent ; and you can take care of the cow and have all you can make off of her milk and butter, except just enough for the table use of two ; and you can have a garden without paying rent, and many other favors — indeed, I will favor you in every possible way." "Well, I tell you how it is. Miss Mary. You see, mammy wants to open up a laundry, and she wants me to help her. She's done 'gaged several womens to help her, and she wants me to go in with her sorter as a partner, you see. And I wants to get my chil- dren a good home, for you knows if I had to take care of 'em I couldn't do much in a laundr3\" "And you want me to take care of them? " " Yes'm; just like you used to take care of your own little niggers before freedom, and after I sign the papers they'll belong to j^ou, don'/ you know.'' "I am sorry to disappoint you, Prances, but I can- not accept your offer. If slavery were restored and every negro on the American continent were offered to me, I should spurn the offer, and prefer poverty rather than assume the cares and perplexities of the ownersh-ip of a people who have shown .very little gratitude for what has been done for them." Without seeming to notice the last sentence, Frances exclaimed: DURING THE WAR. 287 "Well, it's mig-hty strang-e. White folks used to love little nig-g-ers, and now they won't have them as a gracious g-ift." Under the cover of nig-ht she had made her proposi- tion and received her disappointment, after which she lay down by her children and was soon sleeping- at the rate of 2:40 per hour, if computed by the snor- ing- she kept up. In due time morning-, cheerful, sun- lig-hted morning-, came, and with it many benig-n in- fluences and g-ood resolutions for the day. Frances asked where everything was, and having- ascertained, went to work and soon had a nice, appe- tizing- breakfast for us, as well as for herself and children. After that important meal had been en- joyed, she inquired about the trains on the Georg-ia Railroad, and asked what time she could g-o into At- lanta. I told her she could g-o at nine o'clock, but I preferred that she should stay until twelve o'clock, m. "Miss Mary, what was in that trunk I saw in the kitchen last nig-ht ?" "I scarcely know; odds and ends put there for safe- keeping-, I suppose. "May I have the trunk and the odds and ends in it ? They can't be much, or they wouldn't be put off there." "We will g-o and see." Ag-ain I took the kitchen key, and the trunk key as well, and having- unlocked both receptacles, I told Frances to turn the contents of the trunks out ubon the floor. When she saw them I noticed her disappointment, and I told her to remain there until I called her. I went in the house 288 LIFE IN DIXIE and g-ot a pair of sheets, a pair of blankets, a quilt, several dresses and underclothing, and many things that she could make useful for her children, and put them together, and then called her and told her to take them and put them in the trunk. "Look here, Miss Marj, jou ain't going to give me all them things, is you ?" "Yes," put them in the trunk and lock it." A large sack of apples, a gift also, was soon gath- ered and a bo}' engaged to carr}^ it and the trunk over to the depot in a v^heelbarrow. Prompth^ at half-past eleven o'clock the trunk and apples, and Frances and her little boys, were on the way to the depot, en route to Atlanta, their future home, and even a synopsis of the subsequent achievements of that woman and her unlettered mother would be sug- gestive of Munchausen. DURING THE WAR. 289 CHAPTER XXVIII. HOW THE DKCATUR WOMEN KEPT UP THE SABBATH .vSCHOOL. A Brief Sketch of the Old Churches and the Union Sunday School — The Resumption of Church Services. Before the war there were in Decatur but two churches, the Methodist and the Presb3^terian ; al- thoug-h Baptist and Episcopal services were occasion- ally held. The churches first mentioned ^ad been org-anized about 1825. The Presb3^terians first wor- shipped in a log- church, and afterwards in a frame building-, but in 1846 had erected a substantial brick church. In this building- was also taug-ht the Decatur Union Sabbath School, org-anized in 1831, and for twentj^-five years preceding- the summer of 1864 it had been superintended by that g-odly man, Mr. Levi Willard. The Federals had now come in. The church had been rifled of all its contents, including- the pews. The faithful Sunday School superintendent with his lovely family soon after went away. Being- nearer to our house, I remember more about the dismantling- and refurnishing- of the Presbyterian church than of the Methodist. So far as can be ascertained, the last sermon at the Presbyterian church had been preached by Rev. James C. Patterson, who was then living- at Griffin, but was the stated supply of the pulpit here 290 LIFE IN DIXIE • at that time. He will be remembered as a most g^odlj man, and as a sweet sing-er of sacred song-s. The Sabbath before the entrance of the Federals, no service was held in the dear old church. The last prayer service had been held on Wednesday afternoon, led by Mr. Levi Willard, who was an efficient elder. In July, 1864, but few families remained in Decatur; but there was still a goodl}^ number of children and young- people whose training- must not be neg"lected. On the southwest corner of the Courthouse stood, and still stands, a long-, narrow, two-story house. The lower story was occupied as a residence — the upper story, for many years preceding- and succeeding- these times, was the quarters of the Masonic Lodge. In the ante-room of this lodg-e. Miss Lizzie Mortin taug-ht a day school. The first story of the building- was now occupied by the family of Mr. John M. Hawkins. Mr. Hawkins had enlisted in the army early in the war, but for some reason had returned home and been elected clerk of the court, which position he held until forced to leave before the advancing- foe. Mrs. Hawkins, whose maiden name was Valeria A. Perkins, the eldest daug-hter of Reuben Perkins of Franklin county, g-ladly opened her house on Sun- day morning-s that the children mig-ht be taug-ht in the Sacred Scriptures. And thus a Sunday School was beg-un, and Mrs. Hawkins was made the superin- tendent. Among- the org-anizers and teachers may be mentioned Miss Cynthia Brown, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, Mrs. Kddleman, Miss Lizzie Morton, and Miss Lizzie McCrar3^ Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan, Mrs. Ammi DURING THE WAR. 391 Williams, and Mr. Fred Williams acted as a sort of advisory board. Rev. Dr. Holmes and Rev. P. F. Hughes, two elderly Baptist ministers, sometimes came ; and Mr. R. J. Cooper, a godly layman, came a few times. The names of some of these Sabbath school pupils can yet be re-called : — Charley, Guss and Lizzie Haw- kins ; their Cousins John, Sam, Ellen and Lizzie Hawkins, the children of Mr. Sam Hawkins, who is still living in Summerville, Georgia ; the children of Mr. R. J. Cooper, and of Mrs. Eddleman, Mrs. Chivers, and of Mr. Ed Morton. There were others whose names I cannot recall. The number of pupils increased to forty, and the school, having out-grown its quarters, was moved to the Court House ; but when the Federals chose to occupy the Court House, the Sunday school was moved back to Mrs. Hawkins's home. The Bible was the text book ; for there were no Sunday-school papers or song books. Imagine the scene, if you can. Says one of the participants, who was then a young girl : "We were a peculiarly dressed lot. I had a stand-by suit, the skirt made of a blanket shawl; with this I wore one of my brother's white shirts and a red flannel jacket. I had grown so fast that I was taller than my mother, and there was literally nothing large enough in our house or circle of friends to make me a whole suit. One of the ladies wore a gray plaid silk, a pair of brown jeans shoes, and a woven straw bonnet. She had nothing else to wear. Many of the children were rigged out in clothes made from thrown-away uni- 292 LIFE IN DIXIE forms, picked up, washed, and cut down by the mothers." Mrs. Hawkins is still living- near Decatur. She remembers that on several occasions the soldiers came in while the school was in session, much to the demor- alizing of g-ood order and comfort of mind. On one occasion the raiders piled barrels one on top of another, near the house, and set them afire, frig-hten- ing- the children very much. When the war was over, the refug"ees beg^an to return. Among- the first were the families of Mr. J. W. Kirkpatrick, Mr. Ezekiel Mason, Captain Milton A. Candler, Dr. W. W. Durham, Dr. P. P. Hoyle, Mrs. Jane Morg-an, Mrs. Cynthia Stone, Mr. James Winn, Mr. Benjamin Swanton, Mr. Jonathan Wilson, and Mr. J. N. Pate. But, alas ! our faithful old Sun- day-school superintendent and his family returned not, but remained in Spring-field, Ohio, with the ex- ception of Mr. Josiah J. Willard, who afterwards mar- ried Miss Jessie Candler, a sister of Captain Candler. These returning- refug-ees were devoted to the Sunday-school. Mr. John C. Kirkpatrick, just from the war, and scarce twenty-one, undertook the task of re-seating- the Presbyterian church. He went out to a saw-mill and had puncheons sawed and carried to Mr. Kirkpatrick's cabinet shop, where they were fash- ioned into temporary seats. These were placed in the church, and it was once more opened for the exercises of the union Sunday-school, and also for divine wor- ship. Who conducted those exercises, I can find no one who now remembers. My mother had been stricken in July, 1865, with paralysis, which confined DVlilNG THE WAR. 293 her to her bed for many weeks. It was not to be sup- posed that her djiug-hters could leave her ; so that neither one of them can recollect these sessions of the resumed Sabbath-school. There lies before me " the Sunday-school reg-ister and minute-book of 1866," kindly furnished for inspec- tion by Mr. Hiram J. Williams, who had from early youth been constantly identified with the Sunday- school and church. The Superintendent was Mr. Ben T. Hunter ; the librarian, Mr. John C. Kirkpatrick ; the treasurer, Mr. John J. McKo3^ Mr. Kirkpatrick removed to Atlanta in the Aug-ust of that j^ear, and Mr. Josiah Willard was elected to fill his place, but resigned in December to g-o on to Ohio, from whence he soon returned, and died a few 3^ears ago in Atlanta. But I must not forget that I am not writing- a his- tory of the Sabbath-school, yet I cannot leave the theme without mentioning- the fact that all the faith- ful ones who had taug-ht in the stormy days of war still came in time of peace,, and many others whose hearts had not grown cold by their enforced absence. Let me mention the teachers : Mr. J. W. Kirkpatrick, Dr. P. F. Hoyle, Rev. A. T. Holmes, Mr. W. W. Brimm, Captain Milton A. Candler, Mr. G. A. Rams- peck*, Dr. John L. Hardman, Mr. H. H. Puckett, Mr. W. A. Moore (afterwards a Superintendent), Miss C3mthia Brown, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, Mrs. Eddleman, Mrs. Catharine Winn, Mrs. Jane Morg-an, Miss Lizzie Swanton, Mrs. E. A. Mason, Mrs. Valeria A. Haw- kins, Mrs. J. J. McKoy and Miss Lee Moore. Miss *Thi8 gentleman, who married sweet Maggie Morgan, (the sister of Dewitt and Billy), haa now been Sunday school treasurer for twenty-seven years. 294 LIFE IN DIXIE M. H. Stokes had been appointed one of the teachers, but her mother's feeble health, and the g-reat shock consequent upon her death, prevented this teacher from attending- that 3'ear with anj regularity. Among- the names of "visitors" we notice those of Mr. Bryce, Rev. P. F. Hug-hes, Mr. Cooper, and Mr. L. J. Winn. The re-opening- of the Sabbath school at the old church was doubtless a great blessing- to many. To one 3^oung- man the joining- of that school, and the acceptance of a teacher's place, meant the first public step to a profession of faith in Christ. Captain Mil- ton A. Candler was the child of pious parents, but so far as he knew, was at this time an unconverted man. He reluctantly and with g-reat diffidence accepted a teacher's place. Said he quite recently : "I attribute my subsequent union with the church to the study of the Bible which I made while teaching- a class of little boys. Sabbath after Sabbath, in the old church with its puncheon seats. I taug-ht mj^ pupils, a class of little bovs, to read from 'the blue-back speller,' and, when that lesson was over, read to them from the Bible, explaining- it to them as best I could in all humility." In a few years he made a public profes- sion of his faith in Christ, and was elected to the Superintendency of the Sabbath-school, (which office he still holds), and has labored for its interests with a love and an unfiag-g-ing- zeal rarely ever equalled. How sweet were the voices of man} of the teachers and pupils! John C. Kirkpatrick sang- a fine tenor; and clear and soft and true were the tones of Josiah Willard, sweet as the lovely character of this sainted nUEING THE WAR. 295 one. All who knew Rev. J. D. Burkhead remember his singing-, and he often led the music. A little later came Mrs. Mary Jane Wood with her magnifi- cent voice, and the grand bass of Joseph Morgan, the son of one of the pioneer teachers, Mrs. Martha Mor- gan. From this Sunda3^-school, and from its ex-Con- federate soldiers, there went into the ministry W. W. Brimm, Paul P. Winn and Sam K. Winn. Promoted to the Glory Land long ago was Mrs. Jane Morgan; and, more recently, Mrs. Catherine Winn. In the summer of 1866, a Sabbath-school was or- ganized at the Methodist church, which, while a step in the right direction, was the sundering, in one sense, of ties that were very dear. I cannot ascertain when the first sermon was preached in the church after the war, but think it must have been in August, as there is this entry in the journal of my sister. Miss Stokes, already quoted from in a former part of this volume: "Sunday, August 27th, 1865. — Dr. Holmes preached in the Presbyterian church, which has been re-opened for divine service, being furnished with puncheon seats without backs. There are a few benches with backs. Next Sabbath, Dr Wihnn will frrhrrinintrr the commun- ion of the Lord's supper." This was done at the time appointed — the first communion held in the church after the war. (The Dr. Wilson referred to was the vener- able Rev. John S. Wilson, D. D., who had organized the church forty years before.) So far as is known, the only part of the former church furnishings that ever re-appeared was the me- lodeon (or " seraphine "), which Rosella Stone, a ne- 296 LIFE IN DIXIE gro woman, liad preserved. She must have done this for the sake of Miss Marian Stone, who had formerly played it in' church, and who, if I remember arig-ht, played it ag-ain after the resumption of church ser- vices. In the winter of 1865 and 1866, there was preach- ing- for a short while by the Rev. Theodore Smith. Then followed Rev. J. D. Burkhead, and under his preaching-, in the earl}^ spring-, there occurred a pro- tracted meeting-, at which many persons were added to the church. Gladly would I recall, if I could, the preachers who supplied the Methodist church at that time, but my memory fails me as to the exact details. I believe, however, that the Rev. William Henry Clarke, re- ferred to in a preceding- sketch, was the first Method- ist minister who preached there after the war ; and that Rev. Mr. Morg-an and Rev. William A. Dodg-e were the first ministers in charg-e appointed by Con- ference. In ante-bellum times, on many of the larg-e planta- tions, special services were held for the neg-roes — some planters paying- a reg-ular salary for this purpose. In pious families, members of the household often taug-ht the slaves, especially the house servants, the Bible and Catechism. So far as I can recollect, certain seats were assig-ned to them in all churches at all services, besides the special services usually held for them on Sabbath afternoons. After the war, the neg-roes of Decatur and sur- rounding- country were organized into a Sabbath- school at the Presbyterian Church, They came in DURING THE WAR. 297 larg-e numbers, and were faithfully taug-ht by the people of Decatur. To the kind courtesy of Mr. Georg-e A. Ramspeck I am indebted for the loan of the Minute-book of this school, which seems to have been organized in 1867. The pastor was the Superin- tendent. The Vice-Superintendent was Mr. Samuel K. Winn, the Treasurer, Mr. Georg-e A. Ramspeck, and the Librarian, Mr. Moses S. Brown. But after several months the negroes went off to themselves, and eventually founded the African Methodist Episco- pal Church. They have also a Baptist Church. In these undertaking-s they were assisted by the people of the villag-e. 20 298 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXIX. POSTAL AFFAIRS. The Postmaster, Hiram J. Williams— A life that was a reality, but reads like a romance. The north side of the court-house square at Deca- tur is intersected by a public road leading- to North Decatur, Silver Lake, the Chattahoochee River, and points beyond. On the eastern corner of this inter- section stands the well-known Bradbury House. The house itself is an unsightly object, being- almost un- tenable throug-h ag-e and neg-lect, but occupying- a most desirable location. From its site lovely views of the surrounding- country may be obtained, as the eye sweeps the circle of the horizon which is bounded on the north by distant hills, and on the northwest by the blue peaks of the Kennesaw. In the west is a near-by plateau, crowned with oaks and pines, beauti- ful in the morning- when covered with a filmy mantle of faint purple mist — gorg-eous at evening-, when over- hung- by sunset clouds. In 1860 the lower part of the Bradbury House was occupied as a store and postoffice, the proprietor and postmaster being- Mr. William Bradbury. His assist- ant was Hiram J. Williams, then a lad of fourteen years. When Mr. Bradbury- enlisted in the DeKalb Lig-ht Infantry in 1861, Hiram became in reality the postmaster. At that early ag-e he manifested the same traits which have characterized him to this day DURING THE WAE. 299 — unwearied attention to the business before him, un- varying- courtesy, beautiful modesty, calm unbroken serenity of manner, and an unswerving- honesty. During- the four years of the war, the mail received and sent out from Decatur was enormous in its quantity, and all the while it was handled by this youth; for when, in 1862, Mr. Bradbury resig-ned and Mr. John N. Pate was appointed postmaster in his place, Hiram Williams was retained in the office, Mr. Pate simply bringing- over the mail from the depot. So g-reat was the quantity of mail matter that some- times Hiram had to call to his assistance his young- friend, John Bowie. During- those war years, there were but few post- offices in DeKalb County, and the people for miles around had their mail sent to Decatur. The soldiers, unless writing- to young- ladies, rarely ever paid post- ag-e on their letters, but left it to be done by their home folks. This unpaid postag-e had to be collected and kept account of. Often a poor wife or mother, after trudging- weary miles to the postoffice, would receive a letter from husband or son and, unwilling- to return without answering- it, would request Hiram to answer it for her, which he always did. With every package of letters sent out, a way-bill had to go, showing- the number of letters, how many were pre- paid, how many unpaid, etc, etc. Imagine the work this entailed ! Imagine the great responsibility ! Imagine the youth who bore this labor and responsi- bility for four years ! Smeill of stature, quiet in man- ner, but with an undaunted spirit looking- out from his steady but softly bright brown eyes. How brave 300 LIFE IN DIXIE • he must have been, and how his good widowed mother and onl}^ sister must have doted on him. In July, 1864, when the booming- of the Federal g-uns is heard from the banks of the Chattahoochee, the postoffice is closed and for several month there- after letters, if sent for at all, are sent by hand. Our brave little postmaster now hies him away to Aug"usta, and there acts as mailing* clerk for " The Constitutionalist," and, after the surrender, for " The Evening- Transcript." In 1866 he returns to Decatur and eng-ag-es in mercantile business with Willard and McKoy, but soon after opens a store of his own. Early in 1867, Mr. Williams, now arrived at the ag-e of twenty-one, is appointed postmaster at Decatur by Samuel W. Randall, postmaster g"eneral of the United States Government. In 1869 Mr. Williams was elected clerk of the Superior Court of DeKalb County, still retaining" the office of postmaster, but having- an assistant in each position. In 1871, he was re-elected clerk of the court, and ag-ain in 1873. All this time he continued to be post- master, and was re-commissioned by Postmaster General Jewell in 1875, holding- the office up to 1880. Mr. Williams continued to be Clerk of the Superior Court until 1884, when Mr. Robert Russell, a Confed- erate veteran, was elected. Mr. Williams then re- turned for a while to mercantile pursuits. But while pursuing- the even tenor of his way, was called to a responsible position in Atlanta (which he still holds) with the G. W. Scott Manufacturing- Company, now known as the Southern Fertilizer Company. From 1870 to 1886, Mr. Williams was a special DVBING THE WAE. 301 correspondent of "The Atlanta Constitution," thus preserving- the history of Decatur and of DeKalb county during- that period. So much for a business career of remarkable suc- cess. But is this all ? What of the hig-her and nobler life ? This has not been neg-lected. In 1866 Mr. Wil- liams united with the Decatur Presbyterian church. In 1868 he was appointed Librarian of the Sabbath school, an office he still holds. In 1894 he was elected to the office of Deacon, and also appointed church Treasurer. When the Ag-nes Scott Institute, for g-irls, was founded in 1891, he was made Secretary and Treasurer. Mr. Williams has been twice married— in his early manhood, to Miss Jennie Hug-hes, who lived but a short while. His present wife was Miss Belle Stew- ard, who has been a true help-meet. They have a lovely and hospitable home on Sycamore street, where her sweet face, ever beaming: with cheerfulness and loving- kindness and sympathy for all, must be to him as a g-uiding- star to lead and bless him with its lig-ht, as he returns at evening- from the city and its business cares and toils, to the rest and peace of home. If any one should say that this is not strictly a war sketch, I would reply, "no, but who could resist following- up at least the salient points of such a life —a life that exemplifies the main elements of success." Dear young- readers, have you not seen what they are: —perseverance, fidelity to trusts reposed, punctuality, courtesy, honesty and conscientiousness— in other words, adherence to rig-ht principles and to Christian duty. 302 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXX. THE TRAGIC DEATH OF SAI.LIE DURHAM. The closing days of the war. — A sketch of the Durham family —The death of Sallie. On the 9th of April, 1865, at Appomattox Court House, Lee had surrendered his army of twent3^-five thousand men to Grant with his four-fold forces. One after another of the Confederate Generals had been forced to yield to superior numbers, and b}^ the last of May the war was over. "The North had at the beg-inning of the strife a population of twenty-two millions ; the South had ten millions, four millions of whom were slaves. The North had enlisted during- the war two million six hundred thousand troops — the South a little more than six hundred thousand. Now the North had a million men to send home — the South but one hun- dred and fifty thousand." Jefferson Davis had been captured, and imprisoned in Fortress Monroe. Our worn and rag-g-ed soldiers had returned to a devastated country. Our entire people were to beg-in life over ag-ain in the midst of poverty, uncertainty, and under the watchful eye of the conqueror. The war was over, but militar}^ rule was not. It was in these transition days, between the fall of "the Lost Cause" and the more stirring- events of nUBlNG THE WAR. 303 "Reconstruction," that there occurred in our little village a most appalling" trag^edy. To understand it fully, mj readers should know something- of the young- lady's family. Let us pause here and take a backward g-lance. About a hundred years ago Lindsey Durham, a Georg-ia boy of Eng-lish descent, g-raduated from a Philadelphia Medical Colleg-e and located in Clarke county, in his native State. Drug-s were expensive, as they could not be obtained nearer than Savannah, Charleston or New York. Being- surrounded by frontiersmen and Indians, he could but notice the efficacy of the native barks and roots used b}^ them as medicines. He was thus led to adopt to a larg-e ex- tent the theories of the Botanic School. He beg-an to cultivate his own medicinal plants, and to prosecute with much zeal his botanical studies and researches. He even went to Europe and procured seeds and plants of medicinal value, until finally his g-arden of medici- nal herbs and plants contained thirteen acres. So g-reat was his fame that patients beg-an to come to him from adjoining- States, and he had to build cot- tag-es on his plantation in order to entertain them. His marvellous success broug-ht to him ample compen- sation. He became a millionaire, and lived in all the old-time splendor. Once, by a loan of money, he res- cued the Athens bank from utter failure. Dr. Lindsey Durham left several sons, all of whom were physicians. The eldest of these, and the most eminent, was Dr. William W. Durham, who was born on his father's plantation in Clarke county, in 1823. After a coUeg-iate course at Mercer University, he 304 LIF£J IN DIXIE • graduated from the Jefferson Medical College of Phil- adelphia, taking- hig-h honors, spending five years in the hospital there, and perfecting himself in surgery. This talented g-entleman married Miss Sarah Lowe, of Clarke county, and, four years after her death, he married Mrs. Georgia A. Allen, whose maiden name was Wood, and who was a native of Franklin, Geor- g-ia. With the children of his first marriage and their fair young step-mother. Dr. Durham came to Decatur in 1859. Well do I remember the children; two hand- some sons, John and William — two prett}^ brown-e^^ed girls, Sarah and Catherine. It is needless to say that a large practice awaited the skillful ph^^sician, whose eclectic methods were then comparatively new. William, the eldest son, went into the Confederate service at the age of sixteen, remaining- the entire four years, suffering severely at the sie^e of Vicksburg-, fighting valiantly at the Battle of Atlanta, and coming- out of the war the shadow of his former self, with nothing- but an old army mule and one silver dollar. Sarah Durham, called Sallie b}- her family and friends, was a lovely girl of seventeen. She was tall and graceful ; bright, and full of enthusiasm ; kind, loving and generous. She had just returned from her g-randmother's plantation, for her father had not sooner dared to have his daughters return, such was the insolence of the straggling Federals. On the morning of September 1st, 1865, this dear girl arose early and noiselessly with a scheme in her kind heart. The former servants were all g-one ; her mother was not well, and she would surprise the household DURING THE WAIt. 305 by preparing- for them a nice breakfast. In fanc^^ we see her, as she treads lig-htl^^, and chats softl}^ with her tin}' half-sister Jennie, and with a little neg-ro g-irl who in some way had remained with the family. The Durham residence, which was on Sycamore street, then stood just eastward of where Col. G. W. Scott now lives. The rear of the house faced the site where the depot had been before it was burned by the Federals, the distance being* about 350 yards. Hearing- an incoming train, Sallie went to the dining.room win- dow to look at the cars, as she had learned in some way that they contained Federal troops. While standing- at the window resting- against the sash, she was struck by a bullet fired from the train. (It was afterwards learned that the cars were filled with neg-ro troops on their way to Savannah, who were firing- off their guns in a random, reckless manner.) The ball entered the left breast of this dear young- girl, rang-ing- obliquely downward, coming out just below the waist, and lodg-- ing- in the door of a safe, or cupboard, which stood on the opposite side of the room. (This old safe, with the mark of the ball, is still in the villag-e.) The wounded g-irl fell, striking her head against the dining- table, but arose, and walking- up a long- hall she threw open the door of her father's room, calling to him in a voice of distress. Spring-ing- from bed, he said : ''What is it, my child?" "Oh, father," she exclaimed, "the Yankees have killed me ! " Laying- her upon a small bed in the room, her father cut away from her chest her homespun dress 306 LIFE IX DIXIE and made a hasty examination of the wound. Her horror-stricken mother remembers to this day that awful scene in all its details. But we will draw a veil over the g-rief of the smitten family, as they stood half paralyzed at this sudden calamity, and looked upon the loved one whom they were helpless to save. Mrs. Durham recalls the fact that the first person who came in was Rev. Dr. Holmes, and that throug-hout this great trial he and his family were very sympa- thetic and helpful. Every physician in the villag-e and city, and her father's three brothers were summoned, but nothing- could be done except to alleviate her sufferings. She could lie only on her rig-ht side, with her left arm in a sling suspended from the ceiling-. Kvery attention was g-iven by relatives and friends. Her grandmother Durham came and brought with her the old family trained nurse. Sallie's schoolmates and friends were untiring in their attentions. Some names that have appeared in previous sketches, will now appear again, for they watched with anxious, loving- hearts b}' the couch where the young- sufferer lay. Tenderly let us mention their names, as we tread softly in memor3''s sacred halls. Among- the constant attendants at her bedside were Mrs. Martha Morgan, Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Morton, Miss Laura Williams (Mrs. J. J. McKoy), Ivizzie and Anna Morton, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, Dr. Jim Brown and John Hardeman. During the week that her life slowly ebbed away, there was another who ever lingered near her, a sleepless and tireless watch- er, a young man of a well-known famil}^ to whom this sweet young- girl was engaged to be married. DVRING THE WAB. 307 Writes Mrs. P. W. Corr, of Hampton, Florida, (formerly Miss Lizzie Morton): " Never can I forg-et the dreary- nig-ht when Willie Durham, Kitty Durham and Warren Morton left Decatur with Sallie's body, which was to be buried in the old family cemetery in Clarke county. Mrs. Durham, who was in delicate health, was utterly prostrated and the doctor could not leave her." So Dr. Charles Durham managed the funeral arrang-ements, chartering- the car, and Sallie was buried from the old church her g-randfather Lowe had built on his own plantation in Clarke county, and laid to rest in the Durham cemeter}^ near by. Sallie was shot on Friday at 7 : 30 a. m., and died the following- Friday at 3:30 a. m. While she had suffered untold ag-on}^ she was conscious to the last. Throughout her illness she manifested a thoughtful consideration for the comfort of others. Especially did she show tender solicitude for her step-mother, insisting that she should not fatigue herself. While anxious to live, she said she was not afraid to die. In her closing hours she told her friends, that she saw her own mother, her grandfather Durham, and her uncle Henry Durham (who had died in the Confeder- ate service), all of whom she expected to meet in the bright beyond. General Stephenson was in command of the Fed- eral Post at Atlanta. He was notified of this trag- edy, and sent an officer to investigate. This officer refused to take anybody's word that Sallie had been shot by a United States soldier from the train ; but, dressed in full uniform, with spur and sabre rattling upon the bare floor, he advanced to the bed where the 308 LIFE IN DIXIE dying- g-irl lay, and threw back the covering- " to see if she had really been shot." This intrusion almost threw her into a spasm. This officer and the others at Atlanta promised to do all in their power to bring- the g-uilty party to justice, but nothing- ever came of the promise, so far as we know. As a sing-ular coincidence, as well as an illustra- tion of the lovely character of Sallie, I will relate a brief incident g-iven by the g-ifted pen already quoted from : " One of the most vivid pictures of the past in my memor}' is that of Sallie Durham emptying- her pail of blackberries into the hands of Federal pris- oners on a train that had just stopped for a moment at Decatur, in 1863. We had all been g-athering- ber- ries at Moss's Hill, and stopped on our way home for the train to pass." Dr. W. W. Durham lived for nearly twenty 3^ears after Sallie's death. During- the war he had enlisted as a soldier, but was commissioned by Dr. Georg-e S. Blackie, a Medical Director in the Western Division of the Confederate Army, to the position of Inspector of Medicines for the Fifth Depot. This position was g-iven him because of his remarkable botanical knowledg-e and power of identifying- medicines. After the war he was prominent in the reorg-anization of the Georg-ia Medical Eclectic Colleg-e, but refused to take a professorship on account of an almost overwhelming- practice. He was a quiet, earnest, thoug-htful man ; and hig-hly sympathetic and benevolent in his disposi- tion. His widow, Mrs. Georg-ia A. Durham, and their daug-hter, Mrs. Jennie Findley, still reside in Decatur. nUBING THE WAR. 309 Dr. W. M. Durham is a successful physician in Atlanta. He holds a professorship in the Georg-ia Eclectic Medical Colleg-e, and edits the Georg-ia Eclec- tic Medical Journal. Kitty is Mrs. W. P. Smith, of Maxey's ; and John L. Durham is a physician with a large practice, and a larg^e family, living* at Wood- ville, Georgia. The Durham residence still stands in Decatur, though not upon the same spot. For years a great stain of blood remained upon the floor, as a grim and silent reminder of this most awful tragedy which so closely followed the horrible and cruel war. 310 LIFE IN DIXIE CHAPTER XXXI. THE DEATH OF MELVILLE CLARK. The lamented death of Miss Durham was not the only one in our community to be traced to the results of the war. The period of reconstruction, forcing- upon the Southern states the obnoxious Fourteenth Amend- ment, so humiliating- and so unjust, especially at that time, had intensified the prejudices of the neg-roes ag-ainst the white people — prejudices already sufficiently aroused b}' previous abolition teaching's and the results of the war. Several times in this little volume mention has been made of Rev. William Henr}^ Clarke, the staunch patriot and well known Methodist preacher. At this period he had become a resident of Decatur. His son, Melville Clarke, a noble, promising- boy, while at- tempting- to rescue a small white child from the abuse of an overg-rown negro 3'outh, received wounds from which he died. Memory recalls many other instances of like character, perpetrated at this period, the most disg-raceful in the annals of American history. The subjoined resolutions, passed b}^ the Methodist Sabbath school of which Melville was a beloved scholar, attest the many g-ood traits of his character, and the affection accorded him in the community : " The committee appointed to draft resolutions on nUEING THE WAR. 311 the death of Melville Clarke, one of our scholars, beg- leave to submit the following-: "In the wise dispensation of Him that doeth all thing-s well, we are called to pay the last tribute to departed worth. Melville Clark is no more. The va- cant seat sa3^s he is no more. The hushed voice sa^^s he is no more. Yes, the impressive, solemn silence of this moment whispers that another lig-ht which shone brig-htly the brief space allotted it here has flickered out. The body which encased the spirit of the noble Christian boy has been laid away in the silence of the g-rave, and his spirit, as we trust, escorted by a con- voy of ang-els, has g-one to that bright and better world above. ''Therefore, Resolved, That as we g-ather around the new-made g-rave and drop a sympathetic tear (which speaks more eloquently than any words mortal lips can utter), we deeply feel the loss of one so full of promise and usefulness — that noble spirit just burst- ing- into manhood, with a mind that would grasp in a moment things that men have passed through life and never comprehended— and a heart lit up with the love of God, and drawn out by the tenderest cords of affec- tion to do little acts of kindness. Language fails us to give utterance to the anguish we feel at sustaining so great a loss. But he has gone. No more shall we hang upon the eloquence of his gentle, kind words, or see that face which was so often lit up with an ex- pressive sweetness that we could but recognize as the reflex of the lamb-like Christian spirit that reigned within. He has gone, and as we turn from the sad, solemn scene in that faith which ' hopeth all things, 312 LIFE IN DIXIE believeth all thing-s, endureth all things,' we can but exclaim : ' The Lord gave — the Lord hath taken awaj — blessed be the name of the Lord !' ^'Resolved, That in the death of one of our mem- bers, so young, we recognize an admonition that the young, as well as the old, are swiftly passing awa}^ and that we should pause and reflect seriously upon this important subject. '^Resolved, That as a school, our warmest s^^mpathy and condolence be tendered to the family of our dear deceased friend in this, their great bereavement, and that a copy of these resolutions be furnished them." Dr. Avery, ] John N. Path, | ^^ ... Captain Randali,, Committee J. R. Hampton, J August 30th, 1868. DURING THE WAR. 313 CHAPTER XXXII. THE MORTON FAMILY. Incidents thrilling and affecting. In several previous sketches references have been made to the Misses Morton. Not only they, but the whole family, bore an interesting- and heroic part in the scenes of the war. Mr. Edward L. Morton hoisted the first Confederate flag- that ever floated on the breeze in DeKalb county. This he did as soon as he heard that Georg-ia had passed the ordinance of secession. A few miles from Decatur there was a larg-e mill known as Williams's Mill, situated on Peachtree Creek. At the terminus of the bridg-e that spanned the creek, near the little hamlet, there g-rew a tall, g-raceful Lombardy poplar tree. The flag- had been made by Mrs. Morton, Mrs. James Hunter, and other ladies who lived in the neig-hborhood, cind was hoisted by Mr. Morton from the top of the lofty pop- lar. When the Federals came in they cut down the tree, but another has g-rown from its roots. Mr. Morton enlisted with the first company that went from DeKalb, but returned and org-anized one of his own— Company F, 36th Georg-ia. From this command he was sent home on account of lung- trouble, and placed on special duty. When Hood fell back to Atlanta, Captain Morton joined White's Scouts, a picked band of men. He was also at one time Morg-an's g-uide. 21 314 LIFE IN DIXIE After Mr. J. W. Kirkpatrick refug-eed, his home on Atlanta street was occupied bj Captain Morton's fam- ily. Here some stirring- incidents occurred. Says one of his daug-hters: " Pa tried to avoid coming- within the Yankee lines, but did several times g-et caug-ht at home, owing- to his extreme weakness. Finally, after the 23d Army Corps wa.s sent back to Tennessee, a raiding- party of Federals went out toward Stone Mountain, were fired on a few miles from Decatur, and several killed. They were furious when they g-ot to our house (on their return). Here they found one of ' White's Men ' (Pa) ill in bed. They held a court-martial and sentenced him to be hang-ed as soon as they finished eating- dinner. Meanwhile they left a g-uard in his bed-room. Ma asked the guard to sit in the parlor and leave them alone the short time he had to live. The g-uard was a kind- hearted man, the house surrounded, the whole detach- ment eating and feeding their horses on all sides, and Pa was very feeble; so the guard sat in the parlor." Captain Morton then disguised himself, armed him- self, and, passing out a side door, went unchallenged through the crowd of soldiers, by Woodall's tan-yard and out into the woods. Continues his daughter : "But when the guard thought he had better see the prisoner, it was discovered that he was gone. They talked of burning the house and made many other threats. For along time we did not know whether he had escaped or died in the woods. * * * ]S[o man that served in the Confederate army more truly laid down his life for the cause than did my father. He never recovered from the lung trouble brought on and DURING THE WAR. 315 aggravated by the exposure and hardships he endured between '61 and '65." Warren Morton went into the army at the tender age of fifteen, as a private in his father's company. He was in the siege of Vicksburg — was paroled, and re-entered the army in Cumming's Brigade — and was shot at Kennesaw, near Marietta, while acting as Sergeant-Major on Hood's retreat. The ball struck the bone of the outer angle of the left eye, cutting away the temple plate, and came out just over the ear, cutting off the upper half of the ear. The torn nerves and arteries have always caused him pain. The bullet, while it did not touch his eye-ball, para- lyzed the optic nerve on that side. The hardships endured when a growing boy, the long marches in Kentucky, the starvation rations in Vicksburg, and the horrible wound, ruined his constitution. Yet he has been an energetic man, and is living now on a farm near Newnan. The young ladies — girls they all were at the time of which I write — were Lizzie, Anna, Kelly, Fannie and Eddie. On the day that Wheeler's Cavalry routed the Fed- eral wagon train at Decatur, Lieutenant Farrar of the 63d Ohio Regiment was killed on a meadow neeir Mrs. Swanton's residence, just opposite Mrs. Morton's. There was also another Federal, a mere lad, who was mortally wounded. In some way I discovered the d3ang boy, and, after carrying him some water, I left him to the care of the nearer neighbors. Mrs. James Hunter, Mrs. Morton and her daughters cared for him as best they could, and sat by him until he died. 316 LIFE IN DIXIE Miss Lizzie Morton cut from his head a lock of hair and wrote some verses, which Mrs. Swanton kindly sent to his people in Dayton, Ohio. In some way this became known to the Federal of&cers, and future developments showed that this tender act was much appreciated by them. On the morning- of the 22nd of July, 1864, Mrs. Morton sat on the front steps watching for an officer to whom she might appeal for protection. "Very early General McPherson and his staff rode by. Mrs. Mor- ton ran out and called. General McPherson alighted from his horse, heard her story, bare-headed, with his hat in hand, wrote an order and dispatched it, and then mounting, rode away to his death." That order was to station a guard at the house, and it was never disregarded as long as the Federal line was near. This the family have always attributed to their caring for the dead, and to the kind order of General McPherson. On the night of the 21st, Mrs. Morton had been badly frightened by some Federal soldiers coming to her house with the accusation that her young daughter "had given information that had led to the capture of their wagon train." Threats of burning the residence were made by the Federals on several occasions. The family feel persuaded that Bill Pitt- man, a faithful negro, a sawyer who had lived many 3'ears at Williams's Mill, prevented these threats from being put into execution. Soon after the close of the war Captain Morton and his family went to Mississippi. Here he died, and one after another four of the girls, Anna, Kelly, DURING THE WAB. 317 Fanny, and Eddie. Most touching-ly Lizzie (Mrs. P. W. Corr) writes : " When my sister and I were little g-irls in Decatur, we were very fond of private literary entertainments. Anna's favorite declamation (which always brought down the house) was : ' They grew in beauty side by side Around one parent knee ; Their graves are scattered far and wide O'er mountain, plain, and sea.' "Anna sleeps alone near an old church in Scott county, Mississippi ; Kelly, alone at Pickens ; Pa, Fanny and Eddie side by side at Shiloh, in Holmes county." Anna married Mr. Kearney ; Kelly, Mr. W. S. Cole. Mrs. Morton is still living- in the home of her daughter Lizzie, who married Rev. P. W. Corr, of Hampton, Florida. Mrs. Corr is very happily mar- ried, being fond and proud of her husband, and her children filling her heart with comfort and pleasure. To crown her earthly blessings, her mother has been spared to her in all life's changing scenes. Here in her happy Florida home we leave our erst- while lassie of the war times — now an earnest wife and mother, busy ever with home duties, and also a true helpmeet to her husband in his ministerial and edito- rial labors. This sketch, with its incidents, both heroic and pathetic, cannot be more appropriately concluded than by the touching words of Mrs. Corr in a recent letter : "What you say of the 'empty places' is full of sug- gestiveness. I think I never could have borne my losses and still have moved about among the ' empty 318 • LIFE IN DIXIE places.' But going- always among* strang-ers after every loss, being- removed at once from the scene of death and not passing- that way ag-ain, my sisters live in memory as part of the past, always merry, happy g-irls, never to g-row heart-weary, never to fade. We, wandering- among- strang-ers in strang-e and unfamiliar scenes, have kept the memor}^ of our old Decatur home and friends intact. There are no empty places there for us. " It seems sweet to me to think that in that home to which we are all traveling-, we shall find that those dear ones who have preceded us have carried with them that same brig-ht and precious picture, which, however, is not there a picture of memory, but a real- ity of which the earthly circle was only a shadow or prophecy ; and the only empty places there are those which shall be filled when we g-et home. Something- there is in the friendships, even, of other days, that has never died — something that will live again — a root planted here that there blossoms and fruits eter- nally. How much more true is this — it must be so — of those who were heart of our hearts, our own loved ones. I doubt not that for one sad longing thought of 'brother, mother, nephew,' all that you have loved and lost, they have had many sweet and loving thoughts of you, and joyful anticipations of 3^our com- ing home 'Some Sweet Day.'" BVBIISO THE WAli. 319 CHAPTER XXXIII. HON. JOSEPH K. BKOWN'S PIKKS AND GUNS. (This chapter, and the succeeding- one, were not placed in the chronological order of events, because they would have broken the continuity of personal experiences). After an appeal to physical force, as the only means of redressing- our wrong's, was fully determined upon, we made many important discoveries, chief of which was that we were not prepared for war. This fact had often been impressively and earnestly set forth by our g-reatest statesmen, Alexander Hamilton Stephens and Benjamin Harvey Hill, who, thoug-h reared in different schools of politics, were fully ag-reed upon this point, and who urg-ed, with all the eloquence of patriotism and profound understanding- of existing facts, the importance of delaying- the act of seceding- from the United States until we were bet- ter prepared for the mig-hty consequences— either ben- eficial or disastrous. In no way was the wisdom of this advice made more apparent than by our utter want of the appliances of warfare on land and on sea. The ordinance of secession having- been enacted, Georg-ia found itself confronted by the scarcity of guns and other munitions of warfare. Hon. Joseph E. Brown, our war Governor, finding- it impossible to secure even shot-g-uns to equip .the many regiments 320 LIFE IN DIXIE eag-er for the fraj, conceived the idea of arming- them with pikes ; and, undaunted by the Herculean under- taking-, put a larg-e force of the best blacksmiths at the W. & A. R. R. shops to making- these primitive weapons. To whose fertile brain belongs the honor of evolving the plan or diagram by which they were to be made, has never been revealed to the writer. The blade of the pike was to be about 16 inches long and 2 inches wide, with a spur of about 3 inches on either side, all of which was to be ground to a sharp edge. The shank was to be about 12 inches long, and arranged to rivet in a staff 6 feet long. In the memorable year, 1861, J. C. Peck owned a planing mill and general wood-working shop on Deca- tur street, Atlanta, Ga., on the grounds now occupied by the Southern (old Richmond and Danville) R. R. freight depot. There being no machinery at the railroad shops suitable for turning the handles nor grinding the pikes, Mr. Peck contracted to grind and supply with handles the entire number — he thinks ten thousand. Before he finished this work, Governor Brown called a meeting of the mechanics of Atlanta for the purpose of ascertaining if some arrangement could be made for the manufacture of guns for the army. This meeting was adjourned two or three times, and no one seemed willing to undertake the job. At the last meeting a letter was received from the Ord- nance Department of the Confederate States, containing- a "drawing" of a short heavy rifle to be supplied with a Tripod rest, and an urgent request that the Governor would encourage the making of twenty-five guns after this pattern, as soon as possible. A liberal DURING THE WAB. 321 premium for the sample was offered b}^ the Confede- rate Ordnance Department. The barrels were to be thirty inches long- with one inch bore, and rifled with three g-rooves, so as to make one complete revolution in the thirt}^ inches. As no one else would undertake this complicated job, Mr. Peck asked for the "draw- ing*," and announced his willing-ness to do so. He discovered that it would require iron % by 4>^ or 5 inches to make the barrels, and for this purpose he procured enoug^h Swede iron at a hardware store on Whitehall street to make thirty barrels. He also discovered that the common Smith bellows would not yield a blast sufficient to secure welding- heat on so larg-e a piece, and it was sug-g-ested that it could be done at W. & A. R. R. shops; he therefore secured an order from Governor Brown authorizing- this import- ant work to be done there under his instruction. An old German smith, whom Mr. Peck found at the shops, rendered him valuable aid in the accomplishment of this portion of the work. As rapidly as the welding- was done he had them carried to his shop, and a wood- turner, Mr. W. L. Smith, bored them on a wood turn- ing- lath. This was a difficult job, as the boring- bits caug-ht in the irreg-ular hole and broke ; finally he de- vised a sort of rose bit which steadied itself, and he had no further trouble. After successfully accom- plishing- this portion of the work, Mr. Peck found him- self confronted by another difficulty. He had no way of turning- iron, but his indomitable will shrank not from the task, and he threw out a search-lig-ht which enabled him to discern a Savag-e, who had been superintendent of Pitts & Cook's g-in factory, and he 322 LIFE IN DIXIE eng-ag-ed him to turn it. Mr. Peck then employed an ingenious blacksmith, who did to his satisfaction all the smith work he wanted. He made his own taps and dies for fitting- the breech pieces, putting in the nipples, etc., and forced the hammers, trig-gers, ram- rods, etc. The brass mounting's were cast hj Gullatte Brothers, who at that time were running a brass foundr3^ The locks were purchased b}^ Mr. Peck in Macon, but, as already intimated, had to be supplied with new hammers and triggers. As the plan called for the barrels to be rifled with three g-rooves, and to make one complete rev^olution in the leng-th of the barrel, there was none in the employ of Mr. Peck who had any idea how it was to be done. Much perplexed he went to Mr. Charles Heinz, the gunsmith on Whitehall street, who explained the process of rifling- done by hand. On this idea Mr. Peck constructed a machine which he attached to a Daniels planer. This was a wood machine, with a bed which traA^eled backward and forward, similar to the bed of an iron planer— in such a manner that the backward and for- ward motion of the bed g-ave, also, a rotary motion to the cutters. By this process each barrel was rifled precisely alike. Mr. Peck had thirty barrels forg-ed, but some of them were defective and would not bore through without breaking-, and some were burnt in testing. Only twenty-five of them were finished. He had an abundance of walnut lumber and did not have to contend with any obstacle in making the stocks, but some in clamping them to the barrels. The plan also showed the usual screw in the extension of the breech pin, and two bands similar to those on the old style DURING THE WAR. 823 musket. Mr. Peck forg-ed iron bands, but with his best effort at finishing them they appeared clumsy. Opportunely he chanced to see a wag-on on Pryor street containing a lot of hardware and other things, among which was a large brass kettle. Thinking he could make bands out of this vessel, he purchased it and cut it up into those indispensable parts of his fam- ous job, but another obstacle to success presented itself to his patient vision. He could find no one to braze the joints. By reference to his "Mechanic's Compan- ion" he learned the art, and brazed the bands in a skill- ful style. This being, done, he gave his finishing touches to the rifles. The balls were like minie-balls, one inch in diame- ter, and two and one-fourth inches long, and weighed four ounces. Mr. Peck made only one set of bullet moulds, which run two bullets at the same time, and he thinks he made only six of the tripod rests. They were — every lock, stock and barrel — tested by several persons expert in the handling of muskets, rifles, shot- guns, etc., among whom was Mr. Charles Heinz, still living in Atlanta, and who will vouch for the accuracy of this important item of Confederate his- tory, and the utility of the shot emanating from these wonderful guns. To put it mildly, the effect was almost equal to that of a six-pounder. And the recoil ! Well ! Wonderful to relate ! They must have had infused into their mechanism supernatural or national prescience, and peering through the dim vista of the future saw the beacon light of a re-united country, and disdained partiality in the Fratricidal Contest, for 324 LIFE IN DIXIE every time one of them was shot at a "Yankee," it kicked a " Rebel " down. P.S. — Mr. Peck has the orig-inal "drawing-" sent on from the Ordnance Department at Richmond, and also the receipt for the payment for the barrels. He also has a letter from the Chief of Ordnance at Wash- ing-ton, D. C, informing- him that the identical g-uns described in the above sketch had been found in his department, and that two of them would be exhibited in the Government Building- of the Piedmont Exposi- tion, Atlanta, Georg^ia, in 1895. DUBING THE WAR. 325 CHAPTER XXXIV. THE PURSUIT AND CAPTURE OF THE ANDREWS RAIDERS. Captain William A. Fuller and his comrades of the pursuit. — The race of the engines, "The General " and "The Texas." In the early part of 1862 the army of the Cumber- land and also that of the Tennessee had g-rown to g-igantic proportions. The history of that memorable era establishes the fact that in the month of February of that year the army of the Cumberland, commanded by General Buell, had captured Fort Donaldson and several other strong- strateg-ic points on the Tennessee and Mississippi Rivers. Numerically the Federal Army was so much stronger than the Confederate that large detachments could easily be made for incur- sions into the interior and unprotected sections of middle and West Tennessee, while the main army steadily advanced down the Mississippi Valley. By the first of April, General Mitchell had occupied Shel- byville and other cities, including Nashville ; and the larger towns and railroad stations in the neighbor- hood South and East of Nashville had been occupied by the Federals. Recognizing the importance of saving to the Con- federate cause everything necessary to sustain life both of man and beast, all that could be brought out of Kentucky and Tennessee had been sent South — to 326 LIFE IN DIXIE Atlanta and other important points — so that those States were literally stripped of all surplus food. The army of the Tennessee, under the command of General Albert Sidney Johnston, soug-ht to meet General Buell and dispute his further advance. Corinth, Mississippi, was selected by General Johnston as a point beyond which the army of the Cumberland should not g-o. This position commanded the Mem- phis and Charleston Railroad, as well as others run- ning- south of that point. By the fifth of April Gen- eral Buell's army had massed at Pittsburg Landing-, and along a line reaching south and parallel to that of General Johnston. Relatively the armies stood about five to eig-ht, the Confederate of course being- the smaller. They met in battle on the 6th day of April at Shiloh, so-called by the Federals, but South- ern historians call it the battle of Corinth. The fight was a long- and disastrous one — disastrous to both armies — but the Federals, having an unbounded sup- ply of everything needed in war, and being- immedi- ately strengthened by larg-e reinforcements which lit- erally poured in, were enabled to rapidl}- recuperate. The Confederates lost heavily in killed and wounded, and suffered irreparably by the death of General Albert Sidney Johnston. The loss of this noble man was deeply felt and regretted by the entire South. The week following this horrible carnage was mainly taken up by both armies in bur^dng the dead, caring- for the wounded, fortifying, receiving reinforcements and maneuvering for advantag-eous positions. General Mitchell, as already stated, had occupied Shelbyville, and had a considerable force. Some DURING THE WAR. 327 cavalry had penetrated as far south-east as Chatta- nooga, and had several times dropped a few shell into that town. After the death of General Johnston the Confederate Army at Corinth was put under the command of General Beaureg"ard. There were small detachments of Confederate troops distributed along- the Memphis and Charleston Railroad to Stephenson, and from there to Chattanooga ; also from Chattanooga to Bristol, on the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad, and on the Virginia and Tennessee. These were to guard the railroad bridges, depots, and government stores, etc. General Ledbetter was stationed at Chat- tanooga with about three thousand men. There was a tolerably strong guard at London bridge, where the East Tennessee railroad crosses the Tennessee river ; and General E. Kirby Smith occupied Knoxville, with a sufficient force to protect that important point as against General Morgan in his immediate front with a strong force. East Tennessee was very nearly evenly divided between Federals and Confederate sympathizers. Neither side was safe from betrayal. Those who were true to the Southern cause dis- tinguished themselves as officials and soldiers, and those who were recreant to it were a source of great annoy- ance and disaster ; and this applies to Kentucky and West Virginia as well. During the month of April, 1862, Brownlow, and those of his opinion, were arrested, and imprisoned in Knoxville. The strict rules of the passport sj^stem had not yet been adopted by southern army commanders, and it was no difficult matter for friend or foe to pass the lines. 328 LIFE IN DIXIE Thus matters stood at that time. The reader, therefore, may be prepared to appreciate one of the most exciting-, thrilling- and interesting- stories of the Civil Contest. The Western and Atlantic Railroad (often called the State Road) at the time discussed in the preceding- pag-es, was the only line of communication between the southern centre of the Confederate States and the Army of Tennessee. It was worthy of notice that this road was not paralleled by any of the roads now in existence. The Memphis and Charleston Railroad came into the Nashville and Chattanoog-a at Steven- son as now, and the latter road reached from Nashville to Chattanoog-a. The Kast Tennessee and Georg-ia Road also came into Chattanoog-a then as now, and also into Dalton. These three railroad lines were "the feeders" for the Western and Atlantic Railroad at Chattanoog-a and Dalton. At the south or Atlanta end of that line we had the old Macon & Western (now the Georg-ia Central), the Atlanta and West Point, and the Georg-ia Railroad, as feeders for the Western and Atlantic, which reached from Atlanta via Dalton to Chattanoog-a. As has been stated, the Army of Tennessee, under General Beauregard at Corinth, the army under General K. Kirby Smith at Knoxville, the army under General Ledbetter at Chat- tanoog-a, and all detailed men on dut}^ along- the whole front of the Confederates from Corinth to Bristol, depended upon this sing-le line (the old reliable Wes- tern and Atlantic Railroad) for army supplies. There was no other road in the whole distance of eig-ht hun- dred miles, reaching from Mobile, Alabama, to Rich- DURING THE WAR. 329 mond, Virg-inia, that ran north and south. These facts were well known to northern commanders, and it has always seemed strange that the road should have been so unprotected. The many bridges on the Western and Atlantic were guarded at the time under consid- eration, April 1862, by a single watchman at. each bridge, and he was employed by the railroad authori- ties. The bridges were of the Howe Tress pat- tern, weatherboarded with common wooden boards, and covered .with shingles. They were exceedingly inflammable and could easily have been set on fire. One of the rules for the running of the trains was that "if any two trains failed to make the meeting point they would be considered irregular trains, and the conductor of each train should be required to send a flagman ahead, and thus proceed until the two flag- men met." This cumbersome rule frequently occa- sioned great disorder, and sometimes many trains of all grades were massed together at one station. Railroad men will understand this condition of affairs. These things were known and understood not only by the Confederates, but by the Federals through their spies. J. J. Andrews especially understood them, as the sequel will prove. It is beyond the scope of this article to discuss the plans adopted by Captain J. J. Andrews and his twenty-two auxiliaries, to descend into the heart of the South ; suffice it to say, their plans were success- ful, and they passed the Confederate lines and entered the pretty town of Marietta, twenty miles north of Atlanta, unmolested and unsuspected. The solving of the mystery will appear at the proper time, For 330 LIFE IN DIXIE. present purposes it is enough to state that they not only entered the town mentioned, but boarded the north-bound train on the morning- of April 12th, 1862. The well-known and intrepid Captain William A. Fuller was the conductor in charg*e of that train — the now celebrated "General" was his eng-ine — and Jeff Cain his eng-ineer. There was nothing- suspicious in the environments of the occasion. In those days it was not unusual, even in a country town, for a large number of men to board a train, and they were com- ing in from all over the country to join the Confeder- ate army. There was a Camp of Instruction at Big Shanty,- seven miles north of Marietta, and this fact, as well as many others more important, was known to An- drews, who from the beginning of the war had been " a commercial traveller," " in full sympathy with the South," and had ridden over this line many times. The conductor, therefore, took up the tickets as usual, some to one point and some to another, but the most of them to Big Shanty. The raiders were dressed in various st3'les and appeared like a good class of coun- trymen. They claimed to be "refugees from beyond the Lincoln lines." Big Shanty was a mere station, having only one or two business houses, and noted by the traveling public as having a most excellent "eating-house" for the accommodation of the passenger trains. When Cap- tain Fuller's train arrived at Big Shant}^ the passen- gers and train hands went into the hotel for breakfast. The absence from the table of the large crowd that got on the train at Marietta was noticed by the con- DURING THE WAR. 331 ductor, and just as he took his seat, which commanded a view of his train, the g-ong- on the old " General " rang-. It should be stated here that the train was as follows : "The general," three freight cars, one sec- ond and two first-class coaches, a baggage car and express car. Andrews had detached the entire pas- senger train, put his surplus men into the three freight cars, and on " The General " he had with him- self his own engineer and fireman. The very moment the gong rang Captain Fuller sprang from the table, and with a swift run reached the main track and pursued the flying train, which was now fast disappearing around a curve in the road. As he ran out of the hotel Captain Fuller called to his engineer, Jeff Cain : "Some one who has no right to do so has taken our train !" Cain and Mr. Anthony Murphy joined in the race, but were soon distanced by the fleet-footed Fuller. The limestone soil between the tracks was wet and clung to his feet so that fast running was very fatiguing to Captain Fuller, but he ran with a determination that overcame all obsta- cles. Moon's Station, a little more than two miles from Big Shanty, was reached hj him in an incredi- bly short time. Here he found that the Andrews raiders had stopped and had taken all of the tools from the railroad section hands. They had climbed the telegraph poles, cut the wire, and carried a hundred feet of it along with them to prevent the repair of the line in time to thwart their plans. The track hands were amazed at their conduct, and hurriedly told Cap- tain Fuller what had been done. Up to this time he had been in doubt as to the true character of the 332 LIFE IN DIXIE raiders. He had thought that possibly some of the Confederates at Camp McDonald, ( the Camp of Instruction at Big- Shanty), tired of strict discipline and confinement, might have taken the train in order to enable them to pass the environment of their camp. But from this moment there was no room for doubt. As quickly as possible Captain Fuller and two track hands placed upon the rails an old timber car used for hauling crossties, iron, and other heavy material. This was an unwieldy and cumbersome medium of locomotion, but it rendered good service, nevertheless. Captain Puller knew that every moment of time was most valuable, as the raiders were speeding along up the road and his chances for overtaking and captur- ing them were very doubtful. While putting on the hand-car he debated with himself these questions : " Should he proceed immediately in the pursuit, or would it be best to push back and get his engineer ?" He decided to push back for Cain, and when he had gone nearly a mile he met Cain and Mr. Anthony Murphy. They were taken on the hand-car and the pursuit of the raiders, now far ahead, was begun again. Captain Fuller says that if he had not gone back, as above stated, he would have captured the raiders at Kingston, as more than twent}^ minutes were lost, and he was quite that close to them at Kingston. He says, however, he is now glad he did not do so, as the run from that point furnished the most thrilling event of his life, Murph}^ Cain, the two track hands, and Fuller, pushed and ran, and ran and pushed, alternately, and each and every man on the old hand-car did his full DUBING THE WAB. 333 duty. Soon after passing- Moon's Station, where Captain Fuller g-ot the hand-car, the pursuers came upon a pile of cross-ties, but they were soon removed from the track and the race resumed. The intellig-ent reader will not for a moment sup- pose that Captain Fuller and his comrades entertained any hope of overtaking- the raiders on foot, or even by the hand-car. Captain Fuller's thoug-hts ran ahead of his surrounding-s, and he disclosed his plans to his comrades in these words : "If we can g-et to Etowah b}^ 9:40, we will catch the old Yonah. This we can do by ver}^ hard work, unless hindered by obstruc- tions." This sugg-estion doubled the energ-y of every man, and the}^ abandoned themselves to the task be- fore them. It is difficult to write, with deliberation, a story so full of push and haste. This run of twenty miles with an old clumsy hand-car, under so many difficulties, is replete with interest. At leng-th, after Captain Fuller and his comrades were thoroug-hly ex- hausted, standing- on the turn-table at Etowah more than a mile away, "the old Yonah " was espied. A 3^ell and cry of g-reat joy went up from these g-allant men ; but, alas, their vision had extended beyond their immediate dang-er ! The raiders had removed an outside rail in a short curve, and unexpectedly the whole part}^ was thrown into a ditch full of water. This, however, was a small matter to men of resolute will and iron nerve. The car was soon carried across the break in the track and put upon the run ag-ain. One of the track hands was left to watch this break, to prevent dang-er to following- trains — the other was left with the hand-car at Etowah. Although the old 334 LIFE IN DIXIE Yonah was standing- on the turn-table at Etowah, her tender was on another track. Willing- and eag-er hands soon had the eng-ine and tender coupled to- g-ether, and the Yonah was "pressed into service." An empty coal car was taken on, and a few Confed- erate soldiers, who were at the station waiting- for a south-bound train, volunteered to join in the chase. The eng-ineer of the Yonah, Mr. Marion Hilly, and his own hands, ran the Yonah from Etowah to King-- ston, and Captain Fuller gives them g-reat credit for their loyalty and faithful service. A more dangerous run was never made. The track was in a bad condition, and the line quite crooked; and the pursuers could not tell at what moment they might be thrown into a ditch by a removal of rails, or obstructions placed upon the track; but they were abso- lutely blind to all personal danger or considerations. The Yonah had only two drivers and they were six feet, and she had a very short strike. She was built for fast running with a small passenger train on an easy grade. Under all the difficulties by which he was sur- rounded. Hilly ran the Yonah from Etowah to Kings- ton, thirteen miles in fourteen minutes, and came to a full stop at Cartersvile, and also at Kingston. Several crossties had been put upon the track, but the pursuers said " the}^ were literally blown away as the Yonah split the wind." At Kingston, Captain Fuller learned that he was onl}^ twenty minutes behind the raiders. • At this point, Andrews had represented himself as a Confederate of- ficer. He told the railroad agent that he "passed Fuller's train at Atlanta, and that the cars which he DURING THE WAR. 335 had contained fixed ammunition for General Beaure- g-ard at Corinth." He carried a red flag- on "The Gen- eral," and said that "Fuller's train was behind with the reg-ular passeng-er train." This plausible storj^ induced the agent to g-ive him his keys to unlock the switch at the north end of the King-ston railroad yard. Several heavy freight trains were at King-ston, bound southward. Those furthest behind reached a mile or so north of the switch on the main line. Owing- to Andrews's "fixed ammunition" stor}^, the ag-ent, being* a patriotic man, ordered all trains to pull by, so as to let Andrews out at the north end of the yard. This was done as quickly as possible, thoug-h it was difficult to make the railroad men un- derstand why the great haste, and why Andrews should be let pass at so much trouble when Fuller's train would soon be along-, and both could be passed at the same time. But Andrews's business was so urg-ent, and so vitally important, as a renewal of the fight be- tween Beauregard and Buell was expected at any hour, the freightmen were induced to pull by and let him out. This delay gave Captain Fuller an inestimable advan- tage, and but for the delay at Moon's Station, Andrews and his raiders would have been captured at Kings- ton. When Fuller arrived at Kingston on the Yonah, he was stopped by a flagman more than a mile south of the depot, on account of the trains that had pulled by to let Andrews out. He saw at once that he would have to abandon the Yonah, as he could not get her by without much delay. So taking to his feet again, he ran around those freight trains to the depot and 336 LIFE IN DIXIE held a short conversation with the ag-ent from whom he learned the particulars of Andrews's movements and representations, etc. He then ran to the north prong" of the Rome railroad " Y," where that road in- tersected with the Western and Atlantic mainline. There he found "The Alfred Shorter," the Rome railroad engine, fired up and read}^ to move. He hurriedly told Wjley Harbin the eng-ineer of "The Alfred Shorter," about the raiders, and he and his fireman, noble fellows, at once put themselves and their eng-ine at his service. The pursuers were gone in thirty seconds. Captain Fuller says that Jeff Cain got into the train, but that Mr. Murphy w^ho was in another part of the car yard, considering some other plan, came near being left ; but Fuller saw him and held Harbin up until he ran up and got on. Captain Fuller rode on the cowcatcher of the " Shorter," that he might remove crossties and other obstructions that would probably be put on the track. Further down the road, when Andrews was running more at leisure, he loaded the three box cars with ties and other timber, and when he feared pursuit he punched out the rear end of his hindermost car and dropped obstructions in the way of his pursuers. The Alfred Shorter had drivers only four feet — 6 — , and could make only ordinary time ; but Captain Fuller did not consider that of any great disadvantage, as she ran as fast as it was safe to do on account of the many obstruction dropped by raiders upon that part of the road. Six miles north of Kingston, Captain Fuller found it necessary to abandon the "Shorter," because at BVBING THE WAE. 337 that point several rails of the track had been taken up and carried away b}^ the raiders. Knowing- the schedule as he did, and seeing- he could not get by in less time than thirty minutes, Captain Fuller decided that the best thing- to be done was to g-o to Adairs- ville, four miles north, where he hoped to find a south-bound train, "tied up " because of the delay of his train. Possibly he mig-ht meet this train before reaching- Adairsville. Leaving- the "Shorter," he called upon all who wished to join in one more effort to follow him, and started in a run on foot for another four miles. There were none to follow— all preferred to remain in the Rome passenger coach. (It is not amiss here to state that, at King-ston, Fuller took on one coach belonging- to the Rome Railroad, and that some thirty or forty persons had volunteered and boarded the Rome car ; but, when invited to join in a four-mile foot race, they preferred to remain in the coach. ) When Fuller had run about two miles he looked back and saw Murphy just rounding- a curve about three hundred yards behind. When he had run about a mile further, to his great delight he met the expected south-bound freig-ht train. Fuller g-ave the sig-nal, and, having- a g-un in his hand, was recog-- nized by the conductor, who stopped as quickly as pos- sible. Fortunately Peter I. Brachen was the eng-ineer of the freig-ht, and had " The Texas," a Danforth & Cook, 5 feet 10 driver, as his eng-ine. Captain Fuller knew that Brachen was a cool, level-headed man, cind one of the best runners that ever pulled a throttle. As soon as the train stopped, Fuller mounted and was 338 LIFE IN DIXIE about to back it, when, seeing- Murphy coming-, he held Brachen a few seconds until his comrade got on " The Texas." Then the long- train was pushed back to Adairsville, where Fuller chang-ed the switch, un- coupled the train from the engine, and pushed in upon the side track. In the further pursuit of the raiders. Captain Fuller never changed his engine or his crew again. From hence " The Texas " is after " The General " —both are new, both 5 feet 10 driver, with the same stroke— " The General " a Rogers, "The Texas" a Danforth & Cook. But "The General" was for- ward, while " The Texas " had to back. Captain Fuller rode on the back end of the tender, which was in front, and swung from corner to corner, so that he could see round the curves and signal to Brachen. His onl}^ chance to hold on was by two hooks, one at each corner of the tender, such as were formerly used to secure "spark catchers." Many times he bounced two feet high when the tender ran over obstructions not seen in time to stop the engine. The ten miles from Adairsville to Calhoun was made in twelve minutes, including the time consumed in re- moving- obstructions. (Here it may be in order to state that when Andrews had met Brachen at Adairs- ville, on his south-bound trip before being- met by Fuller, that he told him to hurry to King-ston, as Fuller would wait there for him. This Brachen was doing-, when Captain Fuller met him a mile south of Adairsville. But if Fuller had not met and stopped him, he would not have gone on to King-ston, but would have plung-ed into the break in the railroad DURING THE WAB. 339 where the raiders had taken up the rails at the point where the " Shorter" was abandoned. This was one of Andrews' best moves. He hoped to occasion a dis- astrous wreck, and block the road. ) As Captain Fuller with "The Texas" and her crew fig-ure exclusivel}^ in the remainder of this won- derful chase, he thinks it eminentl}^ due them that the names of those actually eng-ag-ed on the engine should be given. Federal reports of the affair have put under the command of Fuller a reg"iment or more of armed soldiers. Some illustrations show long trains of cars packed to overflowing with armed men. From the time he stopped Brachen, a mile south of Adairsville, to the point where Andrews abandoned "The General," three miles north of Ringgold, he had with him only Peter J. Brachen as engineer, Henry Haney, fireman of the engine (who, at the sug- g-estion of Brachen, stood at the brakes of the tender, and had for additional leverag^e a piece of timber run through the spokes of the brake-wheel), Flem Cox, an engineer on the road, who happened to be along-, and fired the "Texas," and Alonzo Martin, train hand of the freight train left at Adairsville, who passed wood to Cox. Thus it is seen that Captain Fuller, Peter J. Brachen, Flem Cox, and Alonzo Martin were the mem- bers of the pursuing- party in toto, during- the last fifty-five miles of the chase. As has been stated, Mr. Anthony Murphy, of Atlanta, rode on "The Texas" with Brachen from Adairsville to the point at which the Andrews raiders were caug-ht, and there is no doubt he would have 340 LIFE IN DIXIE aided in their capture at the forfeit of his life had he been called upon to do so. . As the pursuers ran past Calhoun, an enthusiastic old g-entleman, Mr. Richard Peters, himself a North- ern man, and who died an honored citizen of Atlanta, offered a reward of a liundred dollars each for all the raiders captured. Had this promise been fulfilled Captain Fuller would have received $2,300, which no doubt he would have divided with his comrades in the pursuit. At Calhoun Captain Fuller met the south-bound "day passeng-er train," dela^^ed b}^ his unexpected movements. He had his eng-ine run slowly b}" the depot, and exchang-ed a few words with the excited crowd of people, who were amazed at the sudden ap- pearance and disappearance of the runaway train which had passed there a few moments before. Here he also saw Ed Henderson, the teleg'raph operator at Dalton. Discovering- that the line was down below Dalton, Henderson had g-one down on the passeng-er train to try to repair the break in the wire. Seeing- him, Fuller reached out his hand as he was running- by and took the operator into the tender, and as they ran at the rate of a mile a minute he wrote the follow- ing- dispatch : " To General Ledbetter^ Chattanoga : My train was captured this morning- at Big- Shantj-, evidentl}^ by Federal soldiers in disguise. They are making- rapidly for Chattanooga, and will no doubt burn the Chickamauga bridges in their rear, if I should fail to capture them. Please see that they do not pass Chattanooga. Signed, W. A. Fui.i.KR." DURING THE WAR. 341 He handed this dispatch to the operator, and in- structed him to put it through at all hazards when he should arrive at Dalton. Just at that moment the pursuers came in sight of the raiders for the first time. They had halted two miles north of Calhoun and were removing a rail from the track. As the pursuers hove in sight, the raiders detached their third car and left it before Captain Fuller could reach them. Coupling this abandoned car to " The Texas," Captain Fuller got on top of it and began the race again. The rails had only been loosened and the intrepid conductor took the chances of running over them. From this point the raiders ran at a fearful rate, and the pursuers followed after them as fast as "The Texas" could go. One mile and a half further up, the raiders de- tached another car in the front of the pursuers. This was witnessed by Fuller, who was standing on the rear end of the car he had coupled to when the raiders were first seen. He gave Brachen the si&^^'^l' and he advanced slowly to the abandoned car and coupled it to the first one obtained in this wa}- . Then getting on top of the newly captured one he was off again in the race with scarcely the loss of a moment's time. Just in front of the raiders, and not more than a mile away, was an important railroad bridge over the Oostemaula river at Resaca. The pursuers had greatly feared that the raiders would gain time to burn this bridge, after passing over it. But they were pressed so hotly and so closely that they passed over the bridge as rapidly as the "General" could carry 342 LIFE IN DIXIE them. The pursuers were, therefore, greatly rejoiced on their arrival at Resaca to see that the bridge was standing, and that it had not been set on fire. The two cars picked up as described were switched off at Resaca, and the pursuers again had " The Texas" un- trammeled. The race from Resaca to Dalton has seldom been paralelled. It is impossible to describe it. At Dalton the telegraph operator was dropped, with instructions to put the dispatch to General Led- better through to the exclusion of all other matter. All was excitement at this point. The unusual spectacle of a wild engine flj^ing through the town with only one car attached was bewildering indeed ; and when Captain Fuller arrived and ran through, slacking his speed just enough to put the operator off the train, the excitement became intense. The operator was besieged on every side for an explana- tion, but he knew nothing save that contained in the dispatch. Two miles north of Dalton, Andrews stopped. Some of his men climbed telegraph poles and cut the wire, while others were engaged in an effort to take up the track behind them. The operator at Dalton had sent the dispatch through to Ledbetter at Chattanooga ; but just as he had finished and was holding his finger on the key, waiting for the usual " O. K," click went the key, and all was dead. He did not know until the next day that Captain Fuller's dispatch had reached its destination. Had the raiders been thirty seconds earlier in cutting the wire, the dispatch would not have gone through. As it was Ledbetter received it, and not being able to hear any- DURING THE WAB. 343 thing- further by telegraph or otherwise he had a reg-i- ment placed in ambush (some of the soldiers on either side of the track), and had a considerable part of the track taken up. This was about a mile from Chatta- noog"a, so that by the intervention of the teleg*ram Fuller had Andrews both front and rear. Andrews was run away from the point where the wires were cut before any material damag-e was done to the track. The rails had been partially removed, but not so much as to prevent the safe passage over them of " The Texas " and her crew. Now the last long- race beg-ins. The pursued and the pursuers are in sig-ht of one another. In every straig-ht line of the road, Andrews was in plain view. This tended to increase the interest and excitement, if, indeed, the thrilling- scenes and incidents of the seconds as they flitted by could have been heig-htened. I say seconds, because minutes in this case would be too large to use for a unit of time. The experience, practice, and knowledge of machinery possessed by the engineers was brought into full play. "The Texas " was kept at a rate of one hundred and sixty- five pounds of steam, with the valve wide open. Brachen would appear a little pale sometimes, but he was encouraged by Fuller standing the full length of the tender before him, and watching around the curves. At every straight line in the road Andrews was sighted, and a yell went up from the throats of the pursuers, but they did not lose their wits. Their aim was forward, onward, at all hazards. They were now convinced that Andrews had exhausted his supply of obstructive material, and were not so uneas}^ on 344 LIFE IN DIXIE that account. But as prudence is the better part of valor, and as they had so few men on board, they dared not approach too close, lest their, little band should be fired upon ; or what appeared to be a g-reater dang-er, Andrews might suddenly stop and g"ive fig-ht. Captain Fuller had only five person on "The Texas" besides himself, and all accounts heard by them at points below had placed Andrews's party as hig-h as twenty or twenty- five. Fuller knew that the fire-arms he had g"ath- ered up early in the race, such as " squirrel g-uns," and most of them unloaded, would have but little showing in a hand-to-hand contest; so these thing-s had to be considered as they sped along- so swiftly. Another dang-er was to be feared — Andrews mig-ht stop, aban- don " The General," let her drive back, and thus force a collision with the pursuers. In approaching- the tunnel, seven miles north of Dalton, our brave conductor slackened speed until he could see dimly throug-h the smoke of " The General," which had only passed out of the further end by a few seconds, and was in sig-ht beyond. For the next seven miles from Tunnel Hill to Ring-g-old, nothing- occurred except a race between eng-ines such as has never been excelled. When Ring-g-old was reached, both eng-ines literally flew throug-h the town, the "Texas" only about one-fourth of a mile behind. When the pursuers were passing- throug-h the north end of the town. Captain Fuller noticed a company of militia drilling-. Their horses were hitched to the small shade trees near the muster g-rounds, and this fact fastened itself upon his mind.. In a few minutes the pursuers swung- around the DUBING THE WAR. 345 second short curve north of Ring-g-old, just in time to see Andrews slack his speed, and himself and his men jump off the "General" to seek concealment in the dense woods. The foliagfe of the trees and under- growth was about half g-rown, and it would have been an easy matter to hide in the forest. When the raiders were first seen north of Ring-g-old, it was obvious that the heroic old "General" was almost exhausted. Her smoke was nearly white, and ran up at an ang-le of 45 de- g-rees, while before that it lay flat, and appeared to the eyes of the pursuers as if fresh from the stack. When Andrews abandoned the "General," his eng-ineer threw the lever back and g-ave the eng-ine all the steam it had, but in his haste the brake was left on, so the eng-ine was unable to drive back and collide with the "Texas," as Andrews had hoped it would. The pursuers ran up to the " General" to which was attached one box car — the one historians and states- men have so often said was fired and left to burn in a bridg-e below Ring-g-old. This car had been fired, but was easily exting-uished. It had never been uncoupled from the "General" since Fuller left Atlanta with it that morning-. Brachen hastily coupled the "Texas" to this car and the "General." Captain Fuller re- minded Brachen of the militia company they had seen drilling- at Ring-g-old a few minutes before, and en- courag-ed him to go back there as soon as possible and tell of the capture of the "General," and to beseech the soldiers to mount their horses and come to his aid, as he, Flem Cox, and Alonzo Martin were already chasing- through the woods after Andrews and his 23 346 LIFE IN DIXIE men. Mr. Murphy and Henry Haney went back to Ring-crold with Brachen after the militia. It was probably three minutes after the "General " was overtaken before Captain Fuller and his two com- rades were ready to take to the woods, as they assisted in getting- the car and two engines started back to Ring-g-old. The raiders, therefore, had the advantage and were deep in the forest before the woodland chase began. Besides, the reader will see at once that the raiders were fresh— that they had done no really hard work, except the fireman and engineer. They had not already run on foot more than twenty miles, as Fuller had done. After the pursuing party had gone about two miles through the woods, they came to a fifty-acre wheat field just in time to see the raiders cross the fence at the further side. It had been rain- ing nearly all day, and the ground was wet. It was limestone soil, and almost as sticky as tar. The boots of the pursuers would clog up, and the mud on them would sometimes weigh doubtless two or three pounds. Another source of annoyance was the growing wheat, which was half leg high and very difficult to tread. Captain Fuller has said that it appeared to be up-hill every way that he ran. Finally the woods beyond were reached, and, by accident, Captain Fuller and his two comrades got separated. In the afternoon four of the raiders were captured. About 8 p. m. Captain Fuller became com- pletely exhausted. Some old farmers put him on a mule and carried him back to Ringgold, distant seven miles direct route, but by the one he was carried BUBING THE WAB. three times that distance. He lay down on the mul back, and a man on either side held him on. Soon after they arrived at Ring-g-old the down nig-ht passeng-er train came, and Captain Fuller was put on board and carried to Atlanta. At Tunnel Hill, seven miles south, a train of soldiers passed them on the way to the scene of interest. The An- drews Raiders had already been captured, and the "General" was safe on the side track at Ring-g-old, eig-ht hours before. And this train of soldiers just spoken of is "the second pursuing- train" that Pit- teng-er so often speaks of in his "Capturing- a Lo- comotive," and "Daring- and Suffering-." We have followed Captain Puller and his wise and intrepid men, in the pursuit of spies no less wise and intrepid, from the first step in an act which, under the usag-es of war in all countries, meant death to them if captured ; and over that lamentable scene we drop the curtain. We have the testimony of reliable men that they were humanely treated while in prison. After a trial, conducted on the highest principles of military law and honor, eight of these spies were condemned and executed. The following list gives the names of the Andrews raiders, all of whom were captured in the manner described : J. J. Andrews, John Scott, Wilson Brown, Perry G. Shadrack, Marion Ross, George D. Wilson, W. H. Campbell, Samuel Slavens, These were tried and executed. LIFE IN DIXIE Robinson, wd. Mason, Wm. Knig-ht, Robert Bruffum, William Pitteng-er, M. J. Hawkins, I. Parroth, W. Bensing-er, A. Wilson, W. Reddie, D. A. Dorsej, I. R. Porter, M. Wood, W. W. Brown. The last named fourteen were never tried. DVRING THE WAB. 349 CONFEDERATE LOVE SONG. Over the mountains of Winter, And the cold, cold plains of snow, Down in the valleys of Summer, Calling my love I go. And strong- in my woe and passion, I climb up the^hills of Spring, To listen if I hear his voice . In songs he used to sing. I wait in the fields of Autumn, And gather a feast of fruit. And call my love to the banquet; His lips are cold and mute. I say to the wild bird flying: " My darling sang sweet as you; Fly o'er the earth in search of him. And to the skies of blue." I say to the wild- wood flowers: " My love was a friend to you; Send one of your fragrant spirits To the cool Isles of Dew," ' Gold-girt by a belt of moonbeams, And seek on their gleaming shore A breath of the vanished sweetness For me his red lips bore." I stand at the gates of Morning, When the radiant angel, Light, Draws back the great bolt of darkness, And by the gates of Night, When the hands of bright stars tremble While clasping their lanterns bright; And I hope to see him passing. And touch his garments white. 350 LIFE IN DIXIE O, love I if you hear me calling, Flee not from the wailing- cry; Come from the g-rottoes of Silence And hear me, or I die I Stand out on the hills of Echo; The sensitive, pulsing air Will thrill at your softest whisper- Speak to me, love, from there ! O, love, if I hear you calling. Though far on the heavenly side. My voice will float on the billow '. " Come to your spirit bride." —Mary A. H. Gay. BUBING THE WAB. 351 TO THE READER. Who has kindly perused these sketches, I would say, as they have already attained leng-th and breadth not anticipated from the beg-inning-, I will withhold the sequels to many of them for, perhaps, another volume of reminiscences. Were I possessed of the Sam Weller g-enius and versatility, and the happy faculty of making- the reader wish I had written more, I would throw open the doors of the store-house of my war memories, a structure as capacious as the "Southern Confederacy" and canopied by the firmament, and invite the public to enter and share with me the treasures hidden there. The coruscations of wit and the profound displays.^of wisdom by many who donned Confederate g-rey and went forth in manhood's prime to battle for the prin- ciples of their country, would employ the minds and feast the intellect of the most erudite. There are living-, g-lowing- pictures hanging- upon the walls which delineate the mysteries of humanity in all its varied forms, and, by example, demonstrate that we often spurn with holy horror that which is belter far than that which we embrace with all the fervor of af- fection. I would resurrect the loftest patriotism from the most humble g-raves in the Southern land, and prove by heroic deeds and noble acts that valor on 352 LIFE IN DIXIE the battle-field was as often illustrated bj the humble soldier whose name has not been preserved in "storied urn," as by the g-allant son of chivalrous ancestors who commanded the applause of an admiring- multitude. I would place by the side of those greatest of chieftains, Robert K. Lee, and our impreg^nable "Stonewall" Jackson and Albert Sidney Johnston, many of our sol- diers "unknown to fame," in faded grey jackets and war-worn pants, and challenge the world for the dif- ference. I would dwell with loving interest upon the innumerable sad, sweet faces of the mighty throng of bereaved mothers, sisters and aunts, out of whose lives all light had gone, and who, though hopeless, uttered no words of complaint against our cause or its leader, but toiled on with unswerving faith and souls that borrowed the lustre of heaven. All these sad things in my gallerj^ I would clothe in living form and glow- ing color. And, saddest of all, I would live over with them that melancholy period when the very few, comparatively, that were left of the noble defenders of our principles, came back, not with buoyant step and victor crown, but with blighted hopes and despondent mien to desolated homes and decimated families. Un- der the new regime I would tell of despair and suicide, of hope, energy and success ; I would tell how I have lived in this gallery — its silent occupants my compan- ions and friends, my inspiration to useful deeds. There is not a day that I do not arouse by muffled tread the slumbering echoes of this past, and look upon the cherished souvenirs of the patriotic friends now roaming the beautiful gardens of Paradise, or sleeping the mystic waiting of the resurrection. I DUBING THE WAB. 353 ponder upon their lives, their ambitions, their disap- pointments, and it requires no effort of the imag-ina- tion to animate those dead forms and invest them with living" attributes. And daily, in imag"ination I weave for them a laurel crown that shall g-row g^reener and g-reener as the cycles of Time speed on to Eternity. 354 LIFE IN DIXIE APPENDIX. The author has selected the article, " Gleaning-s from General Sherman's Despatches," as an appendix for these sketches, not because of a desire to keep up the issues of the war between the States (for she would gladly bury them so deep thej could never be resur- rected until the great Judge of all issues calls them up to receive sentence by his unerring judgment), but rather, because of the persistent insistence of North- ern Republicans to make it appear to the world that the Southern people are a semi-barbarous people, solely responsible for the war and altogether unwor- thy fraternal consideration in the compact called the Union. The article mentioned, " Gleanings from General Sherman's Despatches," is to be found, word for word, in The Southern Magazine, May, 1873, Vol. XII. Baltimore : TurnbuU Brothers. GLEANINGS PROM GENERAL SHERMAN'S DESPATCHES. Those thick, loosely-bound octavos printed on soft and rather dingy paper, which Congress publishes and distributes under the name of Public Documents, are not generally considered very entertaining read- ing. But there are exceptions ; and one of these is the report of the joint committee of Congress on the con- DURING THE WAB. 355 duct of the war. Indeed, compared with such mild pastorals as "Some Accounts of the Cheese Manufac- ture in Central New York," or " Remarks on the Cul- tivation of Alfalfa in Western Tennessee," it is quite luridly sensational, and in parts reminds us of those striking- reports of the Duke of Alva to his royal mas- ter, which have been disinterred in the dusty archives of Simancas. As a study of congressional nature, military nature, and human nature generally, in its least attractive aspects, these eight stout volumes are richly worth perusal. Here the reader is allowed to peep behind the scenes of that portentous drama ; here he may see the threads of the intrigues that cen- tered in Washington ; may hear a petty newspaper correspondent demonstrating, with an animation that we can scarcely ascribe to fervid patriotism, the incapacity, the ignorance and even the doubtful "loy- alty " of the commander-in-chief ; may see private malignity and vindictiveness putting on grand Ro- man airs, and whispering debaters draping themselves in the toga of Brutus. However, it is not with these aspects of the reports that we at present have to do, but with the despatches of General Sherman on his march through Georgia and South Carolina. A great deal of fiction and some verse,* we believe, have been written about this fa- mous march or grand foray ; but here we have the plain matter-of-fact statement of things as they were, and they form a luminous illustration of the advance * One of these poems, " Marching Through Georgia," we learn by the evidence, was a favorite canticle of Murray, the kidnapper and butcher of Captain Polynesius. 356 LIFE W DIXIE of civilization in the nineteenth century as exempli- fied in the conduct of invasions, showing- how modern philanthropy and humanitarianism, while acknowledg-- ing- that for the present war is a necessary evil, still strive to mitigate its horrors and spare all avoidable suffering- to non-combatants. For this purpose we have thought it worth while to reproduce a few of the most striking extracts illustrating the man, his spirit, and his work. A kind of keynote is sounded in the dispatches to General Stoneman, of May 14, which, after ordering him to "press down the valley strong," ends with the words, "Pick up whatever provisions and plunder you can." On June 3, the question of torpedoes is discussed, and General Stedman receives the following instruc- tions : "If torpedoes are found in the possession of an enemy to our rear, you may cause them to be put on the ground and tested by wagon loads of prisoners, or, if need be, by citizens implicated in their use. In like manner, if a torpedo is suspected on any part of the railroad, order the point to be tested by a carload of prisoners or citizens implicated, drawn by a long rope." " Implicated," we suppose here meant "resid- ing or captured in the neighborhood." On July 7, we have an interesting dispatch to General Garrard on the subject of the destruction of the factories at Roswell. " Their utter destruction is right, and meets m}^ entire approval ; and to make the matter complete, you will arrest the owners and em- plo3^ees and send them under guard charged with treason, to Marietta, and I will see as to any man in DURING THE WAB. 357 America hoisting- the French flag- and then devoting- his labor and capital to supplying- armies in open hos- tility to our g-overnment, and claiming- the benefit of his neutral flag-. Should you, under the impulse of ang-er, natural at contemplating- such perfidy, hang; the wretch, I approve the act beforehand •••• I re- peat my orders that you arrest all people, male and female, connected with those factories, no matter what the clamor, and let them foot it, under g:uard, to Marietta, whence I will send them by cars to the North. Destroy and make the same disposition of all mills, save small flouring- mills, manifestly for local use ; but all saw mills and factories dispose of effect- ually ; and useful laborers, excused by reason of their skill as manufacturers, from conscription, are as much prisoners as if armed." On the same day he further enlarg-es on this subject in a despatch to General Hal- leck : "General Garrard reports to me that he is in pos- session of Roswell, where were several very valuable cotton and wool factoiues in full operation, also paper mills, all of which, by my order, he destroyed by fire. They had been for years eng-aged exclusively at work for the Confederate g-overnment ; and the owner of the woolen factory displayed the French flag-, but, as he failed to show the United States flag- also. General Garrard burned it also. The main cotton factory was valued at a million of United States dollars. The cloth on hand is reserved for the use of the United States hospitals ; and I have ordered General Garrard to arrest for treason all owners and employees, foreign and native, and send them to Marietta, whence I will 358 LIFE IN DIXIE send them North. Being- exempt from conscription, thej are as much g-overned by the rules of war as if in the ranks. The women can find employment in Indi- ana. This whole reg-ion was devoted to manufactories, but I 'will destro}' everyone of them." There are two points specially worth notice in this despatch. The first, that since these men and women, by reason of sex, or otherwise, are exempt from conscription, they are, therefore, as much subject to the rules of war as if in the ranks. Why not do less violence to log^ic and state frankly that factory hands were in demand in Indiana ? The next point is that the Roswell fac- tories, whether French property or not, were destroyed because they were making- cloth for the Confederate g-overnment, followed presently by the declaration that every manufactory in that reg-ion shall be destroyed, evidently without reference to its products or their destination. How much franker it would have been to have added to this last sentence, "and thus g-et rid of so many competitors to the factories of the North." The South must ,learn that while she may bear the burden of protective tariffs, she must not presume to share their benefits. Another despatch to General Halleck, of July 9, ag-ain refers to these factories. After referring- to the Eng-lish and French ownership, comes this remark : "I take it a neutral is no better than one of our citizens, and we would not respect the property- of one of our own citizens en- g-ag-ed in supplying- a hostile army." This is the kind of log-ic proverbially used b}^ the masters of leg-ions. A despatch to General Halleck, of July 13, g-ives General Sherman's opinion of two g-reat and philan- DURING THE WAR. 359 thropic institutions. Speeiking- of " fellows hang-ing- about" the army, he says: "The Sanitar}^ and Christian Commission are enoug-h to eradicate all traces of Christianity from our minds." July 14, to General J. K. Smith, at Allatoona : " If you entertain a bare suspicion ag-ainst any family, send it North. Any loafer or suspicious person seen at any time should be imprisoned and sent off. If guer- rillas trouble the road or wires they should be shot without mercy." September 8, to General Webster after the capture of Atlanta : " Don't let an}- citizens come to Atla,nta ; not one. I won't allow trade or manufactures of any kind, but you will remove all the present population, and make Atlanta a pure military town." To Gen- eral Halleck he writes : "I am not willing- to have Atlanta encumbered by the families of our enemies." Of this wholesale depopulation. General Hood com- plained, by flag- of truce, as cruel and contrary to the usages of civilized nations and customs of war, re- ceiving- this courteous and gentlemanly reply (Sep- tember 12) : " Ijthink I understand the laws of civil- ized nations and the 'customs of war ;' but, if at a loss at any time, I know where to seek for informa- tion to refresh m^^ memory." General Hood made the correspondence, or part of it, public, on which fact. General Sherman remarks to General Halleck : "Of course, he is welcome, for the more he arouses the in- dignation of the Southern masses, the bigger will be the pill of bitterness they will have to swallow." About the middle of September, General Sherman, being still in Atlanta, endeavored to open private 360 LIFE IN DIXIE communication with Governor Brown and Vice-Presi- dent Stephens, whom he knew to be at variance with the administration at Richmond on certain points of public policy. Mr. Stephens refused to reply to a ver- bal messag-e, but wrote to Mr. King-, the intermedi- ary, that if the g-eneral would sa}^ that there was any prospect of their ag-reeing- upon " terms to be submit- ted to the action of their respective governments," he would, as requested, visit him at Atlanta. The motives urged by Mr. King were General Sherman's extreme desire for peace, and to hit upon " some plan of terminating this fratricidal war without the fur- ther effusion of blood." But in General Sherman's despatch of September 14, to Mr. Lincoln, referring to these attempted negotiations, the humanitarian point of view is scarcely so prominent. He says : "It would be a magnificent stroke of policy if I could, without surrendering a foot of ground or principle, arouse the latent enmity to Davis.'' On October 20, he writes to General Thomas from Summerville, giving an idea of his plan of opera- tions : "Out of the forces now here and at Atlanta, I propose to organize an efficient army of 60,000 to 65,000 men, with which I propose to destroy Macon, Augusta, and it may be, Savannah and Charleston. By this I propose to demonstrate the vulnerability of the South, and make its inhabitants feel that war and individual ruin are synonymous terms." Despatch of October 22, to General Grant " I am now perfecting arrangements to put into Tennessee a force able to hold the line of the Tennessee, while I break up the railroad in front of Dalton, including DURING THE WAB. 361 the city of Atlanta, and push into Georgia and break up all its railroads and depots, capture its horses and neg-roes, make desolation everywhere ; destroy the factories at Macon, Milledg-eville and Augusta, and bring up with 60,000 men on the seashore about Sa- vannah and Charleston." To General Thomas, from Kingston, November 2 : "Last night we burned Rome, and in two more days will burn Atlanta " (which he was then occupying). Decembers-. "Blair can burn the bridges and culverts and burn enough barns to mark the progress of his head of columns." December 18, to General Grant, from near Savan- nah : "With Savannah in our possession, at some future time, if not now, we can punish South Caro- lina as she deserves, and as thousands of people in Georgia hope we will do. I do sincerely believe that the whole United States, north and south, would re- joice to have this army turned loose on South Caro- lina, to devastate that State in the manner we have done in Georgia." A little before this he announces to Secretary Stanton that he knows what the people of the South are fighting for. What do our readers suppose ? To ravage the North with sword and fire, and crush them under their heel ? Surely it must be some such delu- sion that inspires this ferocity of hatred, unmitigated by even a word of compassion. He may speak for himself: "Jefferson Davis has succeeded perfectly in inspiring his people with the truth that liberty and government are worth fighting for." This was their unpardonable crime. 24 362 LIFE IN DIXIE December 22, to General Grant : "If jou can hold Lee, I could go on and smash South Carolina all to pieces." On the 18th General Halleck writes: "Should you capture Charleston, I hope that by some accident the place may be destroyed ; and if a little salt should be sown upon its site, it may prevent the growth of future crops of nullification and secession." To this General Sherman replies, December 24: "This war differs from European wars in this particular — we are not only fighting hostile armies, but hostile people ; and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the hard hand of war, as well as their organized armies. I will bear in mind your hint as to Charleston, and don't think sail will be necessary. When I move, the Fifteenth corps will be on the right of the right wing, and their position will naturally throw them into Charleston first ; and, if you have studied the history of that corps, you will have remarked that they gen- erally do their work up pretty well. The truth is, the whole arm}^ is burning with insatiable desire to wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost tremble for her fate, but she deserves all that seems in store for her. "I look upon Columbia as quite as bad as Charles- ton, and I doubt if we shall spare the public buildings there as we did at Milledgeville." And now we look with interest for the despatches that would settle the vexed question as to whether Sherman or his officers, acting under his orders, burned Columbia on the I7th of February. Unfortu- nately, a paternal government, not thinking it good DUBING THE WAB. 363 that the truth should be known, has suppressed all the despatches between the 16tli and the 21st, and every other allusion to the transaction. On the 23d, he writes to General Kilpatrick: "Let the whole people know the war is now ag^ainst them, because their armies flee before us and do not defend their country or frontier as they should. It is pretty- nonsense for Wheeler and Beaureg-ard and such vain heroes to talk of our warring- ag-ainst women and chil- dren and prevent us reaching- their homes." If, therefore, an army defending- their countr}^ can prevent invaders from reaching- their homes and fam- ilies, the latter have a rig-ht to that protection ; but if the invaders can break throug-h and reach these homes, these are justified in destroying women and children. Certainly this is a g-reat advance on the doctrine and practice of the dark ag-es. Another extraordinary moral consequence flows from this insufficiency of defence: "If the enemy fails to defend his countr}', we may rig-htfully appropriate what we want." Here, now, is a nice question of martial law or casuistry, solved with the simplicity of an ancient Roman. In other words, when in the enemy's coun- try, the army shall be strictly careful not to seize, cap- ture or appropriate to military or private uses, any property — that it cannot g-et. "They (the Southern people) have lost all title to propert}^, and can lose nothing- not already forfeited." What, nothing- ? Not merely the houses we had built, the lands we had tilled, the churches we wor- shipped in — had we forfeited the rig-ht to drink of the streams, to behold the sun, to breathe the free air of 364 LIFE IN DIXIE heaven ? What unheard of, what inconceivable crime had we committed that thus closed every g-ate of mercy and compassion ag^ainst us, and provoked an utterance which has but one parallel — the death warrant signed by Philip II. ag"ainst all Netherlanders ? General Sherman has himself told us what it was : We had dared to act on the "truth that liberty and g-overn- ment are worth fig-hting- for." On March 15, he writes to General Gillmore, advising- him to draw forces from Charleston and Savannah (both then in Federal hands) to destroy a railroad, etc. "As to the g-arrisons of those places I don't feel disposed to be over-g-enerous, and should not hesitate to burn Savannah, Charleston and Wil- ming-ton, or either of them, if the garrisons were needed." Such are some of the results of our g-leaning-s in this field. Is it any wonder that after reading- them we fervently echo General Sherman's devout aspira- tion : " I do wish the fine race of men that people the United States should rule and determine the future destiny of America." nUBlNG THE WAB. 365 SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. (Reprinted by Permission of the Illustrator Company. From the April, 1896, Number of " The Illustrator." Copyrighted. All Rights Reserved.) It is a proud thing- for Americans to fsel that there is little to bring- the blush of shame to their cheeks in the contemplation of their country's history. It is a glorious thing for our young manhood to know that the annals of their race tell of the earnest and upward progress of a people, Christian from the first, toward an ever higher civilization. It is well to reflect that when the ruthless hand of war has turned American citizenship from the paths of peace it could do little more than array strong man against sturdy foeman in an honest battle for principle, and that outrage and pillage in our broad domain have been the almost undisputed heritage of the Aborigines. Enduring with patient fortitude the raids of savage foes upon our early frontiers, meeting the armed invasion of foreign hosts with a resistance vigorous but manly, pressing our own victorious arms to the very citadel of our Mexican neighbors without spolia- tion or rapine, it is sad to realize that it remained for an internecine conflict, where brother stood ag-ainst brother, for an invasion by an army void of pretext of reprisal or revenge, to write upon American war- fare the stigma of vandalism, rapacit}^ and theft. 366 LIFE IN DIXIE The movement from Atlanta to Savannah, which fig-ured in history as "The March to the Sea," was, from the standpoint of the tactician, no great achieve- ment ; it involved no more than the passag-e of an invincible army across some three hundred miles of country, where it could g-ather supplies upon its wa}^ to effect a junction with its naval allies at a practically defenceless city. It was peculiarl}^ lacking- in the daring- which is customarily ascribed to it, for it was made, practically, without resistance and along- a route where no considerable force of the enemy could have been encountered. It was not a venture in the dark with a conclusion to be determined by circum- stances ; for the authorities at Washing-ton were fully advised of its author's purpose, and Gen. Sherman was assured that he would meet a formidable fleet at Savannah before he undertook it. It was no more nor less than the yielding-, by this most typical bar- barian conqueror of the Nineteenth century, to the spirit of pillag-e and excess which disting-uished his prototypes in the da3^s of the Goths and Vandals, when the homes and firesides of their enemies were at their mercy. It was a campaig-n remarkable only for the revival of military methods abandoned since Attila the Hun. It was, nevertheless, as carefully planned as it was ruthlessly executed. It was no sudden impulse which laid the torch to ever}^ roof-tree, upon the invading- army's path. It was no spirit of retaliation for vigorous but inefl'ective resistance which g-oaded these conquerors to excess, for out of 62,204 men who beg-an the march but 103 lost their lives before they reached Savannah. It was simply DIJBING THE WAR. 307 the grasping- of the amplest opportunity by a man who g"lories in looting- and destruction, and to whom human misery was a subject for jest. At the outset let us understand that General Sherman, throug-h all that portion of his career which beg-an with the destruction of Atlanta, was acting- upon a plan and a theory devised and adopted weeks before ; that his own actions and that of his army were in no sense impulsive, but in every way con- trolled by premeditation, and that our authority for such a conclusion lies in the repeated statements of the General himself. With the brutal frankness which was one of his characteristics, he w^rote on September 4th, 1864, in a letter to General Halleck, which he reproduces in his autobiography: "If the people raise a howl ag-ainst my barbarit}^ and cruelty, I will answer that war is war and not popularity-seeking-." "I knew, of course," he sa3^s, "that such a measure would be strong-ly criticized, but made up m}^ mind to do it with the absolute certainty of its justness, and that time would sanction its wisdom. I knew that the people of the South would read in this measure two important conclusions ; one that we were in earnest, and the other that if they were sincere in their common and popular clamor 'to die in the last ditch,' the opportunit}^ would soon come." The cold-blooded candor of this statement leaves little doubt of the temperature of the well-spring-s which fed that org-an of General Sherman correspond- ing- to the heart of an ordinary man ; but if evidence were wanting- of his absolute unconcern for the suffer- 368 LIFE IN DIXIE ing-s of others when his own plans mig-ht be inter- fered with to the slig-htest degree, it might be found in his answer to General Hood's proposition for an exchange of prisoners. "Some of these prisoners," he says, " had already escaped and got in, and had de- scribed the pitiable condition of the remainder." He had at that time about two thousand Confederate prisoners available for exchange. "These I offered to exchange for Stoneman, Buell, and such of my own army as would make up the equivalent ; but I would not exchange for his prisoners generally, because I knew these would have to be sent to their own regi- ments away from my army, whereas all we could give him could at once be put to duty in his immediate army." No possible suffering which his unfortunate companions in arms could be forced to bear by reason of the Confederates' lack of supplies with which to feed and clothe them, could induce him to exchange for men who would not strengthen his own immedi- ate army ! Geneseric, the Vandal, is said to have been " cruel to blood thirstiness, cunning, unscrupulous and grasp- ing ; but he possessed great militar}^ talents and his manner of life was austere." Let the impartial reader of history say how nearly the barbarian who marched to the sea in the nineteenth centurj^, approached to his prototype of the fifth century. One is not sur- prised, therefore, to find this man writing to General Hood on September 7th, 1864, that he "deemed it to the interest of the United States that the citizens now residing in Atlanta should remove." In the midst of a region desolated by war, their DURING THE WAli. 869 fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, in the arni}^ hun- dreds of miles awaj, it was "deemed to be in the interest of the United States" that the helpless women and children of Atlanta should be driven from their homes to find such shelter as God gives the ravens and the beasts of the wood. It was a course that wrung- from General Hood these forceful words of reply : "Permit me to say that the unprecedented meas- ure you propose transcends, in studied and ing-enious cruelty, all acts ever before broug-ht to my attention in the dark history of war. In the name of God and humanity I protest, believing- that you will find 3^ou are expelling- from their homes and firesides the wives and children of a brave people." To this burning- arraig-nment General Sherman could find no better answer than arg-ument concerning- the rig-ht of States to secede. But it was followed on September 11th by an appeal from the mayor and councilmen of Atlanta which would have touched a heart of stone. It was humble, it was earnest, it was pitiful. It provoked these words in reply : "I have your letter of the 11th in the nature of a petition to revoke my orders remov- ing- all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it carefull}^, and g-ive full credit to your statements of distress that will be occasioned, and yet shall not revoke my orders, because they were not desig-ned to meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for the future strug-g-les in which millions of g-ood people outside of Atlanta have an interest." The same unalterable resolution must have domi- nated Geneseric, the Vandal, when he prepared for his 370 LIFE I^' DIXIE fourteen days sacking- of Rome. The vandal of the fifth century had at least the pretext of reprisal for his actions ; the vandal of the nineteenth centur}^ could find no better plea for his barbarity than that it mig-ht wring- the hearts of absent men until they would sacrifice principle and honor for the relief of their loved ones. President Davis says: "Since Alva's atrocious cruelties to the non-combatant population of the low countries in the sixteenth century, the history of war records no instance of such barbarous cruelt}^ as this order desig-ned to perpetrate. It involved the imme- diate expulsion from their homes and only means of subsistence of thousands of unoffending- women and children, whose husbands and fathers were either in the armj^, in Northern prisons, or had died in battle." At the time appointed the women and children were expelled from their houses, and, before they were passed within our lines, complaint was g-enerall}^ made that the Federal officers and men who were sent to g-uard them had robbed them of the few articles of value the}^ had been permitted to take from their homes. The cowardly dishonest}^ of the men ap- pointed to carry out this order, was in perfect har- mony with the temper and the spirit of the order. It was on the 12th da}^ of November, 1864, that "The March to the Sea" began. Hood's army had been followed to Tennessee, and Sherman's forces had destroyed the railroad during- their return trip to At- lanta. They were now ready to abandon the ruins of the Gate City for fresher and more lucrative fields of havoc. It is fair to General Sherman to say that his DVBING THE WAB. 371 plans and intentions had been fully communicated to the authorities at Washing-ton, and that they met with the thoroug-h approbation of General Halleck, then Chief of Staff. General Halleck will be remembered as the hero who won immortal fame before Corinth. With an immensely superior force he so thoroughly entrencned himself before that cit}^ that he not onl}^ held his po- sition during- General Beauregard's occupancy of the town, but retained it for several days after the Confed- erate evacuation. He retired from active service after this, his only piece of campaigning", to act in an ad- visory capacity at Washington, and it was he who wrote these encouraging words to Sherman at Atlanta : "The course which you have pursued in removing- rebel families from Atlanta, and in the exchange of prisoners, is fully approved by the War Department. . . .... Let the dislo3^al families thus stripped g-o to their husbands, fathers, and natural protectors in the rebel ranks I would destro}^ every mill and factor}^ within reach, which I did not want for my own use I have endeav- ored to impress these views upon our commanders for the last two years. I'on are almost the only one zvho has properly applied them.'' These words of encour- ag'ement fell upon willing ears. No one knew better than Sherman how to read the sentiments between those lines ; he understood the motives which moved their doughty author as thoroughh^ as when later the same hand g-athered courage to advise him in plain unvarnished words to wipe the city of Charles- ton off the face of the earth, and sow her site with 372 LIFE IN DIXIE salt. The valiant Chief of Staff, who urged on cam- paig-ns from a point sufficiently to the rear, had found at last a man who would carry ont his instructions, and the war upon women and children was about to begin. General Halleck was not the sole confidant of Gen- eral Sherman's plan. Less than a month before the memorable march was undertaken, he telegraphed to General Grant: "I propose that we break up the railroad from Chattanooga forward, and that we strike out for Milledgeville, Millen and Savannah. Until we can repopulate Georgia, it is useless for us to occupy it, but the utter destruction of its roads, houses and people will cripple their military resources. I can make this march, and make Georgia howl !" Sir Walter Raleigh conceived and attempted to ex- ecute the plan of exterminating the Irish race, and colonizing their lands from England. The Sultan of Turkey is about to carry out a similar policy with his Armenians. The difference between these other exterminators and Sherman, is that they expected to be met at the doors of the hom-s they intended to destroy by men capable of offering resistance, while the American General knew he would have to do with women and children alone. He evidently met with some expostulation from General Grant, for he afterwards telegraphed him that he would "infinitely prefer to make a wreck of the road and the country from Chattanooga and At- lanta, including the latter city, send back all wounded and unserviceable men, and with the effective army move through Georgia, smashing things to the sea." DURING THE WAR. 373 Receiving* no answer to this latter dispatch, he did not hesitate to execute the campaign as he had planned it, and in his own lang-uage proceeded to "make the interior of Georgia feel the weight of war." Sherman and his staff rode out of the Gate City at 7 o'clock in the morning of the 16th. "Behind us," he sa3's, " lay Atlanta, smouldering and in ruins, the black smoke rising high in the air and hanging like a pall over the ruined cit3\ Some band, b}^ accident, struck up the anthem of ' John Brown's soul goes marching on '. The men caught up the strain, and never before or since have I heard the chorus of ' Glory, glory, hallelujah !' done with more spirit or in better harmony of time and place." To the credit of the slandered soul of that other marauder, let us say, that John Brown's lawless warfare was upon men alone, and that booty formed no part of his incentive. Knowing that no effective resistance was to be ex- pected, Sherman so scattered his columns that the sixty-mile " swath" which it was his purpose to de- vastate, was covered by them with ease. In order that the work might be thoroughly and effectively done, a sufficient number of men were detailed for that branch of militar}^ service peculiar to Sherman's army, and known as " bummers." " These interesting individuals always," says the General, " arose before day and preceded the army on its march." " Although this foraging was attended with great danger and hard work, there seemed to be a charm about it that attracted the soldiers, and it was a privilege to be detailed on such a party." "No doubt," he adds with that same blunt frankness, 374 LIFE IN DIXIE "many acts of pillag-e, robbery and violence were committed by these parties of foragers usuall}^ called 'bummers'; for I have since heard of jewelry taken from women, and the plunder of articles that never reached the commissary." But these playful fellows, in spite of such indiscretions, were never more to the General than an exhibition of that charming- humor invariably apparent in him in the presence of human suffering-. We may gather an idea of them from the follow- ing description given by a correspondent of the New York Herald, who accompanied the army: "Any man who has seen the object that the name applies to will acknowledge that it was admirably selected. Fancy a ragged man, bleached by the smoke of many a pine-knot fire, mounted on a scraggy mule without a saddle, with a gun, a knap-sack, a butcher-knife and a plug hat, stealing his way through the pine forests far out in the flanks of a column, keen on the scent of rebels, or bacon, or silver spoons, or coin, or anything valuable, and you have him in j^our mind. Think how you would admire him if you were a lone woman, with a famih^ of small children, far from help, when he blandly inquired where you kept your valuables ! Think how you would smile when he pried open your chests with his bayonet, or knocked to pieces your tables, pianos and chairs, tore 3'Our bed clothing into three-inch strips and scattered them about the yard. The ' bummers ' say it takes too much time to use ke3's. Color is no protection from the rough raiders. They go through a negro cabin in search of diamonds and gold watches with just as DURING 'THE WAR, 375 much freedom ^md vivacity as they ' loot ' the dwell- ing- of a wealthy planter. They appear to be pos- sessed of a spirit of 'pure cussedness.' One inci- dent, illustrative of many, will suffice. A bummer stepped into a house and inquired for sorg-hum. The lady of the house presented a jug-, which he said was too heavy, so he merely filled his canteen. Then tak- ing- a huge wad of tobacco from his mouth he thrust it into the jug-. The lady inquired, in wonder, why he spoiled that which he did not want. ' Oh, some feller'll come along- and taste that sorg-hum and think you've poisoned him, then he'll burn 3^our d d old house.' There are hundreds of these mounted men with the column, and they g-o everywhere. Some of them are loaded down with silverware, g-old coin, a.nd other valuables. I hazard nothing- in saying- three fifths (in value) of the personal property of the coun- try we have passed throug-h was taken by Sherman's army." In an address delivered before the Association of the Maryland Line, Senator Zeb Vance, of North Carolina, has laid the vig-orous touch of his character- istic Kng-lish upon the void until it stands out in barbarous bold relief, so far beyond the pencil of the present writer that he best serves his readers by quoting-: "With reference to his famous and in- famous march, I wish to say that I hope I am too much of a man to complain of the natural and in- evitable hardships, or even cruelties of war ; but of the manner in which this army treated the peaceful and defenseless inhabitants in the reach of his col- umns, all civilization should complain. 376 LIFE IN DIXIE "There are always stragglers and desperadoes following in the wake of an army, who do some dam- age to and inflict some outrages upon helpless citi- zens, in spite of all efforts of commanding officers to restrain and punish ; but when a General organizes a corps of thieves and plunderers as a part of his invad- ing army, and licenses beforehand their outrages, he and all who * countenance, aid or abet, invite the execration of mankind. This peculiar arm of mili- tary service, it is charged and believed, was instituted by General Sherman in his invasion of the Southern States. Certain it is that the operations of his ' Bummer Corps ' were as regular and as unrebuked, if not as much commended for efficiency, as any other division of his army, and their, atrocities are often justified or excused, on the ground that ' such is war.' "In his own official report of his operations in Georgia, he says : ' We consumed the corn and fodder in the region of country thirty miles either side of a line from Atlanta to Savannah, also the sweet potatoes, hogs, sheep and poultry, and carried off more than ten thousand horses and mules. I esti- mate the damage done to Georgia at one-hundred million dollars, at least twenty million of which inured to our benefit, and the remainder was simply waste and destruction !'•••• The 'remainder' deli- cately alluded to, that is say damage done the unresisting inhabitants to over and above the seizing of necessary army supplies, consisted in private houses burned, stock shot down and left to rot, bed clothes, money, watches, spoons, plate and ladies' jewelry nUBlNG THE WAR. 377 stolen, etc., etc. A lane of desolation sixty miles wide throug-h the heart of three great states, marked by more burning-s and destructions than ever followed in the wake of the widest cyclone that ever laid forest low ! And all done, not to support an invading- army, but for ' pure waste and destruction'; to punish the crime of rebellion, not in the persons of those who had broug-ht these about, but of peaceful non-combat- ants, the tillers of the soil, the women and the children, the ag-ed and feeble, and the poor slaves ! A silver spoon was evidence of disloyalty, a ring- on a lady's finger was a sure proof of sympathy with rebel- lion, whilst a g-old watch was prima facie evidence of the most damnable g-uilt on the part of the wearer. These obnoxious earmarks of treason must be seized and confiscated for private use- — for ' such is war !' If these failed, and they sometimes did, torture of the inhabitants was freely employed to force disclosure. Sometimes with noble rag-e at their disappointment, the victims were left dead, as a warning- to all others who should dare hide a jewel or a family trinket from the cupidity of a soldier of the Union. No doubt the stern necessity for such thing-s caused g-reat pain to those who inflicted, but the Union must be restored, and how could that be done whilst a felonious g-old watch or a treasonable spoon was suffered to remain in the land, g-iving- aid and comfort to rebellion ? For 'such is war.' Are such thing-s war indeed ? Let us see. Kig"hty-four years before that time, there was a war, in that same country ; it was a rebellion, too, and an English nobleman led the troops of Great Britain through that same region, over much of the same 25 378 LIFE IN DIXIE route, in his efforts to subdue that rebellion. The people throug-h whose land he marched were bitterly hostile, they shot his foraging- parties, his sentinels and strag-g-lers, they fired upon him from every wood. "He and his troops had every motive to hate and punish those rebellious and hostile people. It so hap- pens that the orig-inal order-book of Lord Cornwallis is in possession of the North Carolina Historical So- ciety. I have seen and read it. Let us make a few extracts and see what he considered war, and what he thoug"ht to be the duty of a civilized soldier towards non-combatants and the helpless: " 'Camp Nkar Beatty's Ford, January 28, 1781. " 'Lord Cornwallis has so often expressed the zeal and good will of the army that he has not the slight- est doubt that the officers and soldiers will most cheerfully' submit to the ill conveniences that must naturally attend war, so remote from water carriage and the magazines of the army. The suppl}- of rum for a time will be absolutely impossible, and that of meal very uncertain. It is needless to point out to the officers the necessit}' of preserving the strictest disci- pline, and of preventing the oppressed people from suffering violence by the hands from whom they are taught to look for protection.' " Now, General Sherman was fighting, as he said, for the sole purpose of restoring the Union, and for making the people of the rebellious States look to the United States alone for protection ; does any act or order of his anywhere indicate a similar desire of DURING THE WAR. 379 protecting- the people from suffering- at the hands of those whose duty it was to protect them ? Again : *"Headquarteks, Lanslkr'vS Plantation, February 2, 1781. " ' Lord Cornwallis is hig-hly displeased that sev- eral houses have been set on fire to-day during- the march — a disg-race to the army — and he will punish with the utmost severity any person or persons who shall be found guilty of committing- so disgraceful an outrag-e. His lordship requests the commanding- offi- cers of the corps will endeavor to find the persons who set fire to the houses to-day.' "Now think of the march of Sherman's army which could be discovered a g-reat way off by the smoke of homesteads by day and the lurid g-lare of flames by nig-ht, from Atlanta to Savannah, from Columbia to Fayetteville, and suppose that such an order as this had been issued by its commanding- officers and rig-idly executed, would not the mortality have been quite equal to that of a g-reat battle ? "Arriving- in Fayetteville on the 10th of January, 1865, he not only burned the arsenal, one of the finest in the United States, which perhaps he mig-ht prop- erl}- have done, but also burned five private dwelling- houses near by ; he burned the principal printing- offices, that of the old ' Fayetteville Observer ;' he burned the old Bank of North Carolina, eleven larg-e warehouses, five cotton mills and quite a number of private dwellings in other parts of the town, whilst in the suburbs almost a clean sweep was made ; in one locality nine houses were burned. Universally houses 380 LIFE IN DIXIE were g-utted before they were burned, and after every- thing- portable was secured the furniture was ruth- lessly destroyed, pianos on which perhaps rebel tunes had been played — ' Dixie' or 'M}^ Maryland' — disloyal bureaus, traitorous tables and chairs were cut to pieces with axes, and frequently, after all this damage, fire was applied and all consumed. Carriag-es and vehicles of all kinds were wantonly destroyed or burned ; instances could be given of old men who had the shoes taken from their feet, the hats from their heads and clothes from their persons ; and their wives and chil- dren subjected to like treatment. In one instance, as the marauders left they shot down a dozen cattle be- longing- to an old man, and then left their carcasses lying in the yard. Think of that, and then remember the grievance of the Pennsylvania Dutch farmers who came in all seriousness to complain to General Long-- street in the Gettysburg- campaign, of the outrag-e which some of his ferocious rebels had committed upon them by ^ milking their cozvs.^ On one occasion, at Fayetteville, four gentlemen were hung- up by the neck until nearly dead to force them to disclose where their valuables were hidden, and one of them was shot to death. Ag-ain : " 'Headquarters Dobbins House, February 17, 1781. " 'Lord Cornwallis is very sorr}^ to be obliged to call the attention of the officers of the army to the repeated orders against plundering, and he assures the officers that if their duty to their King and country, and their feelings for humanit}^ are not sufficient to force their nUEING THE WAB. 381 obedience to them, he must, however reluctantly, make use of such powers as the military laws have placed in his hands It is expected that Captains will exert themselves to keep g-ood order and to prevent plundering-. Any officer w/io looks on zvith indifference and does not do his utmost to fi'cvent shame- Jiil maraudings will he considered in a more criminal light than the -persons who commit these scandalous crimes, which must bring- disgrace and ruin on his Majesty's service. All forag-ing- parties will g-ive re- ceipts for supplies taken by them.' "Now, taking- it for granted that Lord Cornwallis, a distinguished soldier and a gentleman, is an authority on the rights of war, could there be found any where a more damnatory comment upon the practices of Gen- eral Sherman and his army ? Again : " 'Hkadquarteks, Freklands, February 28, 1781. " 'Memorandum : — A watch found by the regiment of Bose. The owner may have it from the adjutant of the regiment upon proving property.' Another : " 'Smith's Plantation, March 1, 1781. " 'Brigade Orders. A woman having been robbed of a watch, a black silk handkerchief, a gallon of peach brandy and a shirt, and as, by the description, by a soldier of the guards, the camp and every man's kit is to be immediately searched for the same b}^ the officers of the Brigade.' "Are there any poets in the audience, or other persons in whom the imaginative faculty has been largely cultivated ? If so, let me beg him to do me 382 LIFE IN DIXIE the favor of conceiving-, if he can, and make manifest to me, the idea of a notice of a lost watch being- g-iven, in g-eneral orders, bj William Tecumseh Sherman, and the offer to return it on proof of property by the rebel owner ! Let him imag-ine, if he can, the search- ing- of every man's kit in the 3.rmj for a stolen watch, a shirt, a black silk handkerchief and a g-allon of peach brandy! Sherman says 'such is war.' I venture to sa^^ that up to the period when that ' g-reat march ' taug-ht us the contrar}^, no humane g-eneral or civilized people in Christendom believed //lal ' S7(c/i was war.' Has civilization g-one backward since Lord Cornwallis' day ? Have arson and vulg-ar theft been ennobled into heroic virtues? If so, when and by whom ? Has the art of discovering- a poor man's hidden treasure b}^ fraud or torture been elevated into the strateg-y which wins a campaig-n ? If so, when and by whom ? "No, it will not do to slur over these thing-s by a vag-ue reference to the inevitable cruelties of war. The time is fast coming- when the conduct of that campaig-n will be looked upon in the lig-ht of real humanity, and investig-ated in the real historic spirit which evolves truth ; and all the partisan song-s which have been sung-, or orations which subservient orators have spoken about that g-reat march to the sea; and all the caricatures of Southern leaders which the bit- terness of a diseased sectional sentiment has inspired; and all the g-lamour of a g-reat success, shall not avail to restrain the inexorable, the illuminating- pen of history. Truth, like charity, never faileth. Whether there be prophecies, the^^ shall fail, whether there be DUBINQ THE WAIi. 383 tong"ues they shall cease; whether there be knowledg-e, it shall vanish away ; but when the truth, which is perfect, has come, then that which is in part shall be done away. "Now let us contrast General Sherman with his greatest foe; likewise the greatest, the most humane general of modern times, and see whether he regarded the pitiless destruction of the substance of women and children and inoffensive inhabitants a legitimate war: " ' Headquartkks Army of Northkrn Va., June 27, 1863. " 'General Order No. 73. The commanding gen- eral has observed with marked satisfaction the con- duct of troops on this march. There have, however, been instances of forgetfulness on the part of some that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation of this arni}^, and that the duties exacted of us by civ- ilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of an enemy than in our own. The com- manding general considers that no greater disgrace could befall the army and through it our whole people, than the perpetration of barbarous outrages upon the unarmed and defenceless, and the wanton destruction of private property, that have marked the course of the enem}- in our countr3\ ... It will be remem- bered that we make war-onl}^ upon armed men. R. K. Lee, General.' "The humanity and Christian spirit of this order was such as to challenge the admiration of foreign nations. The 'London Times' commented upon it, and its American correspondent said : 'The greatest 384 LIFE IN DIXIE. surprise has been expressed to me bj officers from the Austrian, Prussian and English armies, each of which has representatives here, that volunteer troops, pro- voked by nearly twenty-seven months of unparalleled ruthlessness and wantonness, of which their country has been the scene, should be under such control, and willing- to act in harmony with the long--suffering- and forbearance of President Davis and General Lee.' "To show how this order was executed, the same writer tells a story of how he witnessed with his own eyes General Lee and a surgeon of his command repairing the damage to a farmer's fence. Colonel McClure, of Philadelphia, a Union soldier himself, bears witness to the good conduct of Lee's ragged rebels in that famous campaign. He tells of hundreds of them coming to him and asking for a little bread and coffee, and others who were wet and shivering asking permission to enter a house, in which they saw a bright fire, to warm themselves until their coffee should be ready. Hundreds of similar instances could be given, substantiated by the testimony of men on both sides, to show the splendid humanity of that great invasion. Blessed be the good God, who, if in His wisdom denied us success, yet gave to us and our children the rich inheritance of this great example. "Major General Halleck, the commander-in-chief, under the President, of the armies of the Union, on the 18th of December, 1864, dispatched as follows to Sherman, then in Savannah : ' Should you capture Charleston, I hope that by some accident the place ma}^ be destroyed ; and if a little salt should be sown upon its site it may prevent the growth of future DURING THE WAR. 385 crops of nullification and secession.' On December 27tli, 1864, Sherman made the following- answer : ' I will bear in mind your hint as to Charleston, and don't think "salt" will be necessary. When I move, the 15th corps will be on the rig-ht of the right wing-, and their position will bring- them naturally into Charleston first, and if you have watched the history of the corps j^ou will have remarked that thej^ g-en- erally do their work up pretty well. The truth is, the whole army is burning* with insatiable desire to wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost tremble at her fate ; but feel that she deserves all that seems to be in store for her. . . I look upon Co- lumbia as quite as bad as Charleston.' Therefore Columbia was burned to ashes. And thoug-h he knew what was in store for South Carolina, so horrible that he even trembled, he took no steps to avert it, for he felt that she deserved it all. Did she, indeed ? What crime had she committed that placed her outside the protection of the law of civilized nations ? What un- just, or barbarous, or brutal conduct had she been guilty of to bring her within the exceptions laid down by the writers on the laws of war as authorizing- ex- traordinary severity of punishment ? They are not even imputed to her. South Carolina's crime, and the crime of all the seceding- States, was that of a con- struction of the constitution of the United States differing- from that of General Sherman and the 15th corps — which 'always did up its work pretty well.' Happily the Divine Goodness has made the powers of recuperation superior to those of destruction ; and though their overthrow was so complete that ' salt ' 386 LIFE IN DIXIE was not needed as the type of utter desolation, Ma- rietta and Atlanta are thriving* and prosperous cities." Governor Vance does not wish to confine himself, in quoting-, to Southern testimony. There are plenty of honest and truthful soldiers in the Federal army, who served in its ranks, to tell all we want and more. This is what one of them saj^s, writing- to the "De- troit Free Press" of that campaig-n : "One of the most devilish acts of Sherman's campaig-n was the destruction of Marietta. The Military Institute and such mills and factories as mig-ht be a benefit to Hood could expect the torch, but Sherman was not content with that ; the torch was applied to everything-, even the shanties occupied b}^ the neg-roes. No advance warning- was g-iven. The first alarm was followed by the crackling- of flames. Soldiers rode from house to house, entered without ceremon^^ and kindled fires in g-arrets and closets, and stood by to see that they were not extinguished." Ag-ain he says : " Had one been able to climb to such a heig-ht at Atlanta as to enable him to see for forty miles around, the da}^ Sherman marched out, he would have been appalled at the de- struction. Hundreds of houses had been burned ; every rod of fence destro3^ed ; nearly every fruit tree cut down, and the face of the country so chang-ed that one born in that section could scarcely recog-nize it. The vindictiveness of war would have trampled the very earth out of sight, had such a thing- been possible." One cold and drizzly night in the midst of this marching General Sherman found shelter and warmth beneath the roof of a comfortable plantation home. DURING THE WAB. 387 " In looking- around the room," he says, " I saw a small box, like a candle box, marked ' Howell Cobb,' and, on inquiring* of a neg'ro, found we were at the plantation of General Howell Cobb, of Georgia, one of the leading- rebels of the South, then a General in the Southern army, and who had been Secretar^^ of the Treasur}^ in Mr. Buchanan's time. Of course we confiscated his propert3% and found it rich in corn, beans, peanuts, and sorg-hum molasses. Extensive fields were all around the house. I sent word back to General Davis to explain whose plantation it was, and to instruct him to spare nothing-. That nig-ht huge bonfires consumed the fence-rails, kept our sol- diers warm, and the teamsters and men, as well as slaves, carried off an immense quantity of corn and provisions of all sorts." Do the records of civilized warfare furnish a par- allel to this petty and mercenary wreaking of spite upon the helpless home of a gallant foeman ? The General furnished us with proof of how worthj^ of their selection his staff -officers proved during that memorable raid. While camped that night on Cobb's plantation, Lieutenant Snelling, who was a Georgian commanding his escort, received permission to visit his uncle, who lived some six miles awa3^ "The next morning," sa3^s the General, "he de- scribed to me his visit. The uncle was not cordial by any means to find his nephew in the ranks of the host that was desolating the land, and Snelling came back, having exchanged his tired horse for a fresher one out of his uncle's stables, explaining that surely some of the 'bummers' would have got the horse had he not." 388 LIFE IN DIXIE It was the eternal fitness of things that the staff- officers of this prince of free-booters should be rene- gades capable of stealing- from their nearest kin. The unfailing jocosity of this merry marauder breaks out in his recital of a negro's account of the de- struction of Sandersville : "First, there came along some cavalrymen, and they burned the depot; then came along some infantrymen, and they tore up the track and burned it, and, just before they left, they sot fire to the well !" The well, he explains, was a boxed affair into which some of the debris was piled, and the customary torch was applied, making the negro's statement literally true. This was one of the inci- dents to leaving the pretty town of Sandersville a smoking mass of ruins. But why enumerate further details of an unresisted movement which cost Sherman one hundred and three lives, and the State of Georgia one hundred million dollars, twenty millions of which he frankly states he carried off, and eighty millions of which he destro3^ed ? It began in shame at Atlanta — it passed with a gath- ering burden of infamy to Savannah. Starvation, terror, outrage hung upon its flanks and rear. Its days were darkened by the smoking incense from unparalleled sacrifices upon the altar of wantonness; its nights were lurid with flames licking the last poor shelter from above the heads of subjugated wives and children. Its history is the strongest human argument for an orthodox hell. DURING THE WAB. 389 TESTIMONIALS. State of Gkorgia, Executive Office, Atlanta, September 1st, I894. "Ivife in Dixie During- the War," by Miss Mary A. H. Gay, presents a striking- picture of home life among- our people during- that dark period of our history. While such presentation is hardly looked for in more elaborate history of those times, Miss Gay's conception was a wise one, and the record she has given will preserve a most desirable part of the history of our section. Her book deserves to be widely circulated. W. J. NORTHEN, Governor. "LIFK IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR." This handsome volume from the pen of Miss Mary A. H. Gay, whose many acts of self-denial entitle her to the name of philanthropist, will meet with a hearty welcome from her wide circle of friends. But a casual g-lance at the volume leads us to conclude that outside of this circle, even with the reader who will look into it as a key to the history of the "times that tried men's souls," it will be a book of more than passing- 390 LIFE IN DIXIE interest. The author writes with the feeling-s of a partisan, but time has mellowed her recollections of these stormy times, and even the reader whose sympa- thies were with the other side will agree with Joel Chandler Harris in his introduction to the book. In its mechanical g-et-up, the book is a g"em. — Atlanta Constitution^ December 18, 1892. "LIFE IN DIXIE." Miss Marj^ A. H. Gay has published a volume entitled "Life in Dixie During- the War," which should be in every Southern home. It is one of the truest pictures of the life of our people during the war that has yet been drawn. In fact, it could not be better, for it shows things just as they were. The struggles and sufferings of the Southern people during that awful period exhibited a heroism that has seldom been matched in the world's history. Miss Gay was among them. She looked on their trials with sympa- thetic eyes and suffered with them. Fortunately she is gifted with the power of describing what she saw, and her book will be a classic of war literature. Its every page is interesting. The story of Dixie during the war reads like romance to the generation that has arisen since, but it should have for generations an interest as deep as that with which it is read by those who lived and acted amid the scenes it records. It shows how grand w^as the courage and virtue, how sublime the faith and endurance of the men and women of the South throughout that terrible ordeal. It is a book that will live, and one that will give to DURING THE WAR. 391 the world a true representation of the conduct of a noble people in affliction. Miss Gay has made numer- ous contributions to our literature which mark her as a woman of rare capacity and exquisite feelings, but she has done no work that is worthier of gratitude and praise than that embodied in "Life in Dixie."— T/ie Atlanta JoimiaU January 17, 1893. "LIFE IN DIXIE." Miss Mary Gay's recent book, "Life in Dixie Dur- ing- the War," is rapidly winning favor with the pub- lict Some of our most distinguished writers speak of it in very high terms as a notable contribution to our history. The Rev. Dr. J. William Jones says of it : '"Life in Dixie During the War' is a charming story of home-life during those dark days when our no- ble women displayed a patient endurance, and active zeal, a self-denying work in the hospitals, a genuine patriotism, a true heroism which equalled the record of their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in the army. "But Decatur, near Atlanta, was the scene of stir- ring events during Sherman's campaign against the doomed city, and Miss Gay's facile pen vividly por- trays historic events of deepest interest, '"Visits from the soldier boy to the old home, letters from the camp, visits to the camps and hospitals, the ^moke and changing scenes of battle in the enemy's lines, refugeeing, and many other events of those stir- ring days, are told with the vividness of an eye-witness and the pen of an accomplished writer. 392 LIFE IN DIXIE "It is, in a word, a vivid and true picture of ' Life in Dixie During- the War,' and should find a place not only in our Southern homes, but in the homes of all who desire to see a true account of the life of our no- ble women during- those trying- days. "Rev. John William Jones.'" The Constitution, May 2nd, 1893. The "Confederate Love Song-," by Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of Decatur, was written during- the late war. It is a charming- bit of verse, and forms one of a g-alaxy of beautiful song-s from the same true pen. In 1880, Miss Gay published a volume of verses which received the unusual compliment of public demand for no less than eleven editions. The author's life is one of the most beautiful; it is, therefore, quite natural that her poetry should partake of the simple truth and sincerity of that life, consecrated as it is, and ever has been, to the noblest work. — Atlanta Constitution. Miss Gay's Book, "Life in Dixie During- the War." — Editor ^^Sttniiy South :^'' Permit me to say a few words throug-h the columns of your widely read and popular paper about Miss Mary A. H. Gay's " Life in Dixie During- the War," the second and enlarg-ed edition of which book has just been issued from the press. The fact that a second and enlarg-ed edition has. been called for is proof that the merits of this g-enuine Southern story has been appreciated by our people. Not only has the author in her book perpetuated DURING THE WAR. 393 interesting- and liistoriceillj valuable material of merely local character, but, to the careful reader, she also presents matter that goes to the deep moral, social and political roots of the cause of the people of the South, that g-rew and flowered into the crimson rose of war, which the South plucked and wore upon her heart during- four of the most trag-ic yet g-lorious years recorded in history. But the chief charms of the book are its simple, earnest, homel}^ style, its depth of womanl}^ and loyal feeling-, and the glimpses we g-et of the homes and hearts of our people during- these years of patient suffer- ing- and "crucifixion of the soul;" and along- with the passion and the pain, we are presented with pictures of our people's frequently laug-hable "make- shifts " to supply man}^ of the common necessaries of life and household appliances of which the stress and savage devastation deprived nearly every Southern family. Above all we are impressed by the more than Spartan heroism, the tender love, the unwavering- loyalty, the devoted, self-sacrificing- spirit of our noble Southern womanhood, of which this book speaks so eloquently in its naive simplicity, and of which traits of character, the modest author herself is a living and universally beloved example. The book deserves a place in the hearts and homes of our people. Surely the patriotic motives that inspired its author to write it is the only passport it needs to public favor and patronage. Chari^es W. Hubner, ''Sumiy South,'' Atlanta, Ga., November 3, 1894, 26 394 LIFE IN DIXIE A WAR STORY. Even in these piping- times of peace (peace as far as our own borders are concerned, at any rate) — there is a relish in a war story. And when the scene is laid rig-ht here in Georgia, in Decatur, in Atlanta; when familiar names come up in the course of the narrative, and familiar events are pictured by an honest eye- witness ; when all throug-h the little volume you feel the truthfulness of the writer, and know that the inci- dents she narrates happened just so ; when, too, you see the writer herself — see her to be an old lady now, who reall}' was a heroine in her 3^oung days ; and then read the simple, personal narrative — now stirring-, as the battle-g-uns sound — now touching-, as some dear one falls ; with all this combination of interest, a war story claims and holds the attention. Such is the little book, called "Life in Dixie," written by Miss Mary Ga}^ and telling of those stir- ring times in and about Atlanta, back yonder in the sixties. There are some vivid pictures in that modest little volume, as well as some interesting facts. Miss Gay was in the thick of the strife, and tells what she saw in those dark daj^s. Among the well-known characters, associated with the recorded events, we find Mrs. h. P. Grant, Mr. and Mrs. Posey Maddox, Dr. J. P. Logan and many others. A most interesting fact disclosed in those pages is the surprising one that two sisters of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln married Alabama officers in the Confederate DURING THE WAB. 395 army ; there is recorded the public presentation, by those two ladies, of an elegant silk banner made for a gallant young- company in Georgia's daug-hter-State. Thus consi:)icuous were those women in the Southern Confederacy, while their sister and her dearest inter- ests lay on the other side. Another matter of history which will be interest- ing- to the present generation of readers, however much we may have read of the mammoth prices for the necessaries of life in those hard days, is the fol- lowing list of articles, with the cost thereof in Confed- erate money, bought by Miss Gay, after a ride of forty miles to obtain them : One bushel of meal, $10.00 ; four bushels of corn, $40.00; fifteen pounds of flour, $7.50; four pounds of dried apples, $5.00 ; one and a half pounds of butter, $6.00; a bushel of sweet potatoes, $6.00; three gallons of syrup, $15.00; for shoeing the horse, $25.00 ; for a night's lodging for self and horse, at Mrs. Born's, $10.00. Then, the vehicle in which the trip for these sup- plies was made ! It was contriv^ed by "Uncle Mack," a dusky hero of those times. "It was a something he had impro- vised which baffled description," writes Miss Ga3^ "and which, for the sake of the faithful service I obtained from it, I will not attempt to describe. Suf- fice it to sa}^ that it carried living freight over many a bridge ; and in honor of this, I will call it a wagon." The horse, which the author herself captured to draw this remarkable vehicle, was equally remarka- ble, and his subsequent history is one of the most 396 LIFE IN DIXIE interesting- bits of narrative in the book. I wish I could ^ive it all in Miss Ga^^'s own words, but my space does not admit of that. But there is not a child in your household who would not be interested in the account of how the poor starved horse was lassoed and secured — how he was fed and streng-thened, and cared for, and finally har- nessed up with ropes and pieces of crocus sacks ; how the letters, "U. S." were found branded on each of his sides, causing- his mistress to name him "Yankee"; how she g-rew to love him so that she deemed that name ill-fitting-, and decided to re-christen him "Johnnie Reb.," which she did one day with effective ceremo- nial by a brook-side; how he rendered invaluable ser- vice to his mistress many and many a time, and was a treasured member of the little family that passed such stormy times in the war-stricken villag-e of Decatur; all this is worth reading-, told, as it is, with a g-entle humor, and a strict truthfulness which is the chief charm of that historic picture. For it is historic. And it were well for the rising- generation to read its vivid portrayals of that period. And thoug-h Miss Ga}' was evidently an ardent se- cessionist, and is now, I fancy, one of the altog-ether unreconstructed few, her book contains records of more than one kindness received at the hands of officers of the United States army — kindness proffered, too, in the face of her fearless avowal of opinion. Some parts of the book (I will add, if the g-entle au- thor will allow me) seem somewhat too bitter towards our brethren of the North. But this criticism is from the standpoint of one who knew not the horrors of that DURING THE WAB. 397 dreadful war. If I had seen the desohition and de- struction which followed it in the wake of Sherman's army, as Miss Gay saw it and suffered by it (throug-h mother and brother and friends, as well as throug-h personal privation), — if I had thus suffered, doubtless I, too, would be unable to look impartially upon these Federal leaders and their actuating- motives — unable to see that, thoug-h Sherman was a most unmerciful conqueror, he was not altog-ether a fiend. But there is only a touch of this severe judgement in Miss Gay's little book. The g-reater portion of it is simply historic — a faithful chronicling- of events ex- perienced by the writer herself, who was a veritable heroine in those days of horrors. Miss Gay is to be congratulated upon the fact that "Life in Dixie" is entering upon its second edition. Let me sug-g-est that you g-et it for your children, 3'ou parents. The rising- g-eneration should learn of the stirring- events which happened rig-ht here in Atlanta thirty years ag-o. The story will hold their attention and interest throug-hout — the soldier-brother who fell in the strife, the faithful black Toby sketched so tenderly, the per- ilous trip of Miss Gay herself, as she carried the blankets and overcoats throug-h the enemy's ranks to the boys in g-ray — all this will vastly entertain those young- folks, at the same time it teaches them of the Battle of Atlanta, and the concurrent events.— Emel Jay, in The Atlanta Journal, November 24th, 1894. "EmelJay" is Miss Mary L. Jackson, danghtor of llie late iion. James Jackson, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Georgia. 398 LIFE IN DIXIE " Life in Dixie During- the War " is the title of a volume just perused which transcends in interest, truth and beauty all the historical tomes and g-ar- landed fiction to which that epoch has g-iven birth. It embraces the personal experiences and observations of a woman, g-ifted far bej-ond the ordinary, who came in contact with the sadness, the bloodshed and the misery of the unhapp}^ strug-g-le. A loved brother laid down his life on the bloodiest battle-field, friends parted and vanished from her, and wealth was swal- lowed in the maw of destruction. She tells her story — for story it is — with an exquis- ite g-race, and with a woman's tenderness and sympathy for the people she loved and the cause she adored. Her lang-uag"e is loft}^ upon occasion, her memories perhaps too keen, her g^entleness possibl}^ too exclusive to her own, but her work is done with a fidelity and consistency beyond comparison. The scene is Deca- tur, Ga., but threads, visible or invisible, reach to every hamlet and entwine every heart in the evanished Confederacy. The heroism of men, the daring- of boys, the endurance of women, alike are painted with a skill that requires no color. Those who wish to embalm their recollections of home-life during- the war, and those who desire to know what it was, should read this book. It is one of the records of the past that should be in every librar3\ It is beautifull}^ printed, neatly cloth-bound, and contains 300 pag-es. — T/ic Tampa Daily Times^ January 17, 1895. DVRING THE WAR. 399 FROM THE OTHER SIDE. A UNION soldier's TRIBUTE TO A SOUTHERN woman's book. EvANSTON, III., December 30th, 1895. Mary A. H. Gay: Dear Madam: Allow me to thank you for g-iving- to the world inside home life in the South during- the war. All histories of the war that have been written have been confined to battles and movements of armies, which are so likened to the histories of other wars that when you have read one you may say that you have read them all. But yours g-ives a local and romantic description of real life, and I feel like con- g-ratulating you and calling- the scenes in which you played so important a part the heyday of your exist- ence. I take it you were the daughter, pampered and cuddled child, of rich and influential people, and had it not been for the war you would have been raised with much pomp, arrogance and importance of family, which, in the very nature of your surrounding's, would have destroyed all the finer and nobler traits which want and misery have developed into a g-rand, noble, self-sacrificing and heroic woman. And although 3^ou portray the scenes freig-hted with misery, want and desolation, yet they were halcyon days to one like you, romantic, energetic, patriotic and self-sacrificing-, and now, as 3^ou are passing down the shady lane of life, you live in the memories of the past, the part you played in the heroic strug-g-le, and the noble woman- hood developed ; and the assurance that you did well 400 LIF:E in DIXIE your part in the g"reat trag^edy strews roses and g-arlands along- the path of your declining- years. "I follow you throug-h all these stirring- scenes ; I sit beside you in your hours of g-loom and blig-hted hopes ; I follow you beside the ox-cart that drew its freig-ht of human misery ; I walk with you into the woody retreats and sit beside you upon the banks of the limpid stream and mix my tears with yours ; I tramp with you over the scenes of desolation ; I sorrow with you over the death of Toby ; I mourn with you over the sudden death of noble Thomie ; I sit beside the death-bed of your sainted mother and min- g-le my tears- with yours ; I g"ladly accompany you on your weary tramp with your much-loved 'Yankee' or Johnnie Reb ; I g-ather with you the leaden missiles of death to buy food for starving- friends and fellow- sufferers ; I pass with you throug-h all the scenes that are freig-hted with hope, love, despair and expecta- tion ; I am your friend and sympathizer in all your misfortunes, and yet I am one of those ' accursed ' Yankee soldiers who have been the bane of your life. "The strang-e blending- of pathos and diplomacy on pag-es 91 and 92 may be said to be amusing-ly ex- pressive. Chapter 13 is intensely interesting-, dra- matic and romantic ; still I see no reason that I should speak of these isolated passag-es, for the whole book is equally interesting-, and would foreshadow for it a larg-e sale in the North if properly handled. As to the mechanical construction of the book, I am much pleased with your lang-uag-e, as it is free from Carlyl- ism and ostentatious Kng-lish, •which mars so much of the writing's of many of our modern authors. I hold BUBING THE WAR 401 that when a book is overloaded with this disirustine- use of the dictionary it is what Goklsmith terms 'dis- play of book learned skill.' The book was kindly sent me by a lady friend in Atlanta, Mrs. Delbridg-e, and I hope when I visit Atlanta ag-ain I may have the pleasure of meeting- the. authoress that nature has endowed with such wonder- ful power of description." Most respectfully, Charles Aikin. Published in T/ic Atlanta Constitution Januar}^ 5th, 1896. "LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR, is the title of one of the best series of sketches that has been written about the ' late unpleasantness.' It contains the record of one woman's experience during- the five years of warfare between the North and the South. The author. Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of Deca- tur, Georg-ia, one of the most graceful writers in the South, has handled the subject in a masterful manner. 'Truth is strang-er than fiction,' and the work abounds in truth. The volume oug-ht to be on sale at every news-stand in the South. The book has been de- scribed as containing- ' a living- picture of those trying- times — not to stir up bitter feelings and hatred, but a history, and such history as cannot be obtained in any other form.' Miss Gay was in the thick of the strife, ' and in a modest way shows herself a heroine worthy of any romance.' Her pen describes scenes that bring tears for the pain and suffering, and laughter at the 402 LIFE IN DIXIE ' makeshifts ' resorted to by those noble people in the hour of actual need. ' Some parts of the narrative may be jud^-ed as rather bitter towards the enemy by those who know not the horrors of that war. But let such critics put themselves in the wake of Sherman's arm}^ and suffer as the writer, and they will feel more charitable towards her who, in recalling- those expe- riences, finds it hard to love all her enemies. There is only a touch of this old-time bitterness, however ; most of the book is simply historic, and Miss Gay does not hesitate to record many kindnesses received at the hands of Federal officers.' Such a valuable contribution to the history of the war should be prized. It is a vivid chronicle, and the rising- g-eneration should learn of those stirring- events. They will read with unflag-^ing- interest to the end of the narrative. We wish for it a wide circulation." — The Arkansas Gazette, March 10th, 1896. LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. BY MARY A. H. GAY, DECATUR, GA. We endorse most heartily the praise bestowed on this modest volume by the g-eneral press. Within the same scope we do not believe a truer or more sympa- thetic picture of the ghastly war time has ever been written. It is not fiction, but a faithful presentation of one woman's experience during the five years that bounded the war between the States. The writer was in the very thick of the strife, and while with admirable modesty she has endeavored to DURING THE WAR. 403 keep herself out of her book, it is clear that she was one of the heroic and indefatig-able women who brought into scenes of suffering- the ministr}' of tenderness. The recital of events as they were, brings humor into the book, whose tenor in the main, how- ever, is necessarily sad. By those to whom the war is simply a tale that is told, there are parts of the book in which the writer will be accused of undue bitterness. However, no such critics, we think, will be found among- the people to whom the war was a reality. Miss Ga}^ records, without hesitation, many kindnesses received at the hands of the Federal officers. Texas soldiers of Granbury's brigade, Cleburne's division, and Hood's corps, figure conspicuously and by name in the book. Miss Gay visited Hood's headquarters twice while the brig-ade was encamped in Georgia, the last time just before they left Georgia for the fatal march into Tennessee. The night- scene she describes near Jonesboro, where they were encamped, is most graphic and pathetic. Miss Gay is the woman w^ho collected the money to have the soldiers who fell at Franklin, Tennessee, reburied, when she heard that the owners of the battlefield said their graves should be ploughed over. She collected $7,000, and her name is engraved on the silver plate on the entrance gate at the McGavock cemetery, which she so largely helped to build. — 77/f Richmond Times, Feb. 16, 1896. 404 LIFE IN DIXIE LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. The following- deserved complimentary notice of the book, "Life in Dixie During- the War," written b}^ Miss Mar}^ A. H. Gay, of Georgia, we clip from the New York Times : "Joel Chandler Harris' brief in- troduction to Miss Gay's reminiscences of the civil war tells of the authenticity of this simple story, and how a book of this character is of that kind from whence 'history will get its supplies.' The dark days are described with absolute fidelity, and this is a qualitj^ we may look for in vain ' in more elaborate and am- bitious publications.' Think of the strangeness of things, the breaks in families, when the author tells how, at the presentation of a flag, the banner was made for a company of Confederate soldiers by Miss Ella Todd and Mrs. White, of Lexington, Kentucky, the sisters of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, the wife of the great President. It was in and around Decatur, Georgia, where the author now lives, that, in the storm and heat of the war, heroicall}^ and unflinchingly the women of the South did their duty in helping those in the field. You will find no incidents of the war which do not show the colored man in the South at his best. Miss Gay describes their devotion and what true friends they were. The author tells how more than once she was near starvation. It happened that the house in which she lived became the headquarters of a troop of United States Cavalry. Ver}^ possiblj^ bureau drawers became convenient feed troughs for horses. After the cavalry had left there was not a morsel to DVRING THE WAB. 405 eat. The famished children, white and black, were cr3nng- for food. The day was spent b}^ the women picking- up g-rains of corn from the cracks and crev- ices in bureau drawers, and other improvised troug-hs for Federal horses. In this way, by dilig-ent and per- severing- work, about a half bushel of corn was obtained. The corn, having- been thoroug-hly washed and dried, was taken to a small mill and coarsely g-round, and served to g-ive the hung-ry ones their bread. The utter destitution of the people after the fall of Atlanta is shown in this way: Lead was in demand, and on the battlefields around Atlanta it could be picked up, pellet by pellet. Delicately nur- tured women dug- up the spent minie balls from the frozen clods and exchang-ed them for bread. — The Mechanicsburg^, Pa., Free Press, February, 20, 1896. LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. BY MARY A. H. GAY, DECATUK, GA. Of the numerous stories which have had as their basis the war between the States, there are few truer pictures, in our opinion, than that presented by a Southern woman in this volume, with a telling- preface by Joel Chandler Harris. The writer's home was in Decatur, but the stories include the history of the entire section, and g-ive much very interesting- infor- mation relative to life in Atlanta, particularly during- the war era. Miss Gay was in the very heart of the strife, and she describes with the vig-orous pen of one to whom the matter is a vital reality. — 7 he Southern Churchman, Richmond, Va., March 12, 1896. t 406 LIFE JJV DIXIE LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. The volume written and published by Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of Georgia, entittled "Life in Dixie Dur- the War," is one of the few books in the flood tide of literature on the great civil conflict that many will read with interest, because it is a woman's story of actual life in Dixie from the beginning- to the close of the great conflict. We have volumes in abundance which tell of the great battles of the war, of the achievement of heroes and the sacrifices which at- tended the victories, but the story of the home life of Southern people during the war must ever be of ab- sorbing interest to every American. They are our people, our countrymen, sharing the common inheri- tance of heroism in eiU the conflicts of the Republic, and that part of the historj^ of the war of the rebellion that is least understood is the extraordinary sufl'erings and sacrifices of the Southern women, who heroicalh^ aided their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in the unequal contest. Miss Gay gives a plain unvar- nished stor}^ of life in Georgia during the war, and of the many sad sacrifices to which the families of South- ern people were subjected. One of the noticeable features of this storj^ commencing with the expression of confident hope for the success of the Confederac}^ and ending in the starless midnight of gloom that at- tended the surrender of Lee and his legions, is given in the description of a presentation of a silken banner to the Magnolia Cadets when the war began. The banner was prepared and finished by Mrs. Dr. White, of Lexington, Kentuck}^, and her sister Miss Todd, nUBING THE WAR. 407 sisters of Mrs. President Lincoln, and they were pre- sented to the enthusiastic audience by Captain Dawson, who subsequently married Miss Todd. Miss Gay's volume is full of interesting- incidents, showing- the heroism and sublime faith and endurance of the women of the South during- the terrible ordeal. Like all Southern women, she was intensely devoted to the Southern Cause, and often exposed herself to great peril to serve the Confederacy. More than once she took her life into her hand to aid the hopeless cause in which the Southern armies had eng-ag-ed. It was principally by her efforts that money was raised to entomb the Confederates that fell at the bloody bat- tle of Franklin, Tennessee. Her name is engraved on a silver plate that is mounted on the entrance g-ate of the cemetery, and there are few who will not become readers of her book. It is in every way interesting- to people both North and South, and should have a very wide circulation.— From T/ie Times, Philadelphia, Pa., May 27, 1896. LIFE IN DIXIK DURING THE WAR. Many stories of the late war have been written, some from the stand point of the "Blue," and some from the "Grey," but we doubt w^hether a truer picture of real war times in the South has ever been depicted than the one found in this modest little volume. There is no fiction in it, but it is the record of one woman's experiences during- the war. Her home was in Decatur, Georg-ia, but her narra- tive includes the history of all that portion of 408 LIFE IN DIXIE country. Very few persons who did not live in that section know or remember to what extent those people suffered. And we would commend them to this book — a living picture of those trying- times — not to stir up bitter feelings and hatred, but because it is history, and such history as cannot be obtained in any other form. Miss Gay was in the thick of the strife, and in a modest way she shows herself a heroine worthy of any romance. Her pen describes scenes that bring tears for the pain and suffering, and laughter at the "make- shifts " resorted to by these noble people in the hour of actual needs. Some parts of the narrative may be regarded as rather bitter towards the enemy by those who know not the horrors of that war. But let such critics put themselves in the wake of Sherman's army, and suffer as the writer did, and we think they will feel more charitably towards her, who, in recalling those experiences, find it hard to love all her enemies. There is only a touch of this old time bitterness, how- ever ; most of the book is simply historic, and Miss Ga}' does not hesitate to record many kindnesses received at the hands of the Federal officers. Such a valuable contribution to the history of the war should be prized. It is a vivid chronicle and the rising generation should learn of those stirring events. The}^ will read with unflagging interest to the end of the narrative. We wish for it a wide circulation. — '' The Christian Observer^" Louisville, Kentucky, May 8th, 1896. Commendatory noticesTiave also appeared in "The BUBING THE WAR. 409 Hampton (Florida) Advocate,'' ''The Decatur Record,'' "The DeKalb Qo\xx\\.y Nezv Em;' " The Wes- lejan Christian Advocate^'' etc. The following- letter was written to Mr. C. D. Mitchell, Secretary' and Treasurer of Chattanooga Plow Company, Chattanooga, Tennessee : Cincinnati, Ohio, November 30, 1896. My Dear Mitchei^l — I have read Miss Gay's book on "Ivife in Dixie During- the War," and thank you very much for g-iving- me the opportunity to read it. I fancy you will think I am a g-ood deal of a "calf," but I couldn't help choking- up a g-ood many times as I read of the terrible experience of the poor women and children and helpless ag-ed people when misfor- tune placed them in the path of the armies during- that bloody period, and we who were at the front knew but little of the misery in the wake of the armies. I was g-lad to see that Miss Ga}^ speaks kindly of our command, and that we afforded protection to her family without leaving- any harm to them in any way. To-day is the anniversary of the death of her brother, killed in front of our works at Franklin. When I read of his death the whole bloody scene was revived, and how useless and fool-hardy that charg-e of Cleburne's over the open cotton fields at Franklin upon our works. The dead were almost countless, and one long- g-rave was dug- for all. I well remember this immense trench where the Confederates were laid side by side. I commanded the 1st Batallion that day at the battle of Franklin, and we had a very warm time of it. We retreated on Nashville the followinir 410 LIFE IN DIXIE . day, and I was cut off from the Regiment for a while, but we finally made a big- detour and regained our lines. After the battle of Nashville we occupied the Franklin battlefield, and I went carefull}- over the whole field. Hood's charge upon our Franklin works, if successful, would have been a moderate victory onh% but unsuccessful, it was a most terrible loss to him. At 57 you and I look at things rather different than we did in our youth of 22, and while scars of war may be healed, they are nevertheless not forgot- ten. With kind regards. Yours very truly, T. F. Allen, I think General Garrard would like to read this book, if he has not already done so, and if you approve I will send it up to him and return it to 3^ou later. At this season of the vear he has time to read. T. F. A.