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LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
AND SOME
EXPERIENCES AND SKETCHES
OF SOUTHERN LIFE

— -JiA?&£Au<r- C*AA^rtrii^e^^c*^ C?i*"7z^

LIFE IN THE
CONFEDERATE ARMY
BEING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER
IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
BY
ARTHUR P. FORD
AND SOME
EXPERIENCES AND SKETCHES
OF SOUTHERN LIFE
BY
MARION JOHNSTONE FORD
NEW YORK AND WASHINGTON
THE NEALE PUBIISHING COMPANY
1905

COPYRIGHT, 1905
BY ARTHUR P. FORD

CONTENTS.

Life in the Conpedbsatb Army  7
Kent — A War-time Negro  73
Rose Blankets  88
Some Letters Written During the Last Months of
the War  100
Tay  129

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
BEING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER
IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
The following account of my experiences as a pri
vate soldier in the Confederate Army during the great
war of i86i-'65 records only the ordinary career of
an ordinary Confederate soldier. It does not treat
of campaigns, army maneuvers, or plans of battles,
but only of the daily life of a common soldier, and of
such things as fell under his limited observation.
Early in April, 1861, immediately after the battle
of Fort Sumter, I joined the Palmetto Guards,
Capt. George B. Cuthbert, of the Seventeenth Regi
ment South Carolina Militia. Very soon after, the
company divided, and one half under Captain Cuth
bert left Charleston, and joined the Second South
Carolina Volunteers in Virginia. The other half, to
which I belonged, under Capt. George L. Buist, re
mained in Charleston. Early in the fall Captain
Buist's company was ordered to Coosawhatchie, and
given charge of four howitzers; and thenceforth for
three years, until December, 1864, it served as field
artillery. I did not go with my company, as at that
time I was a clerk in the Charleston post-office, and

8 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
really exempt from all service. On April 2, 1862,
however, then being about eighteen years of age, I
resigned my clerkship, and joining the company at
Coosawhatchie, with the rest of the men enlisted in
the Confederate service "for three years or the war."
About May ist the company was ordered to Bat
tery Island at the mouth of the Stono River, where
with another company, the "Gist Guards," Capt.
Chichester, we were put under the command of
Major C. K. Huger, and placed in charge of four
24-pounder smooth-bore guns in the battery com
manding the river, our own four howitzers being
parked in the rear. Cole's Island, next below, and at
the immediate entrance of the river, was garrisoned
by Lucas' battalion of Regulars, and the Twenty-
fourth Regiment South Carolina Volunteers, Col. C.
H. Stevens. An examination of a map of this local
ity will show that Cole's Island was the key to
Charleston ; and this question has given rise to con
siderable acrimonious discussion. But whatever the
merits of the case may have been, the facts are, that
under the strange fear of the Federal gunboats that
obtained on the South Carolina coast at that period,
it was believed that our positions on Cole's and Bat
tery Islands could not be held against an attack from
the gunboats, which then were off the mouth of the
river; and the islands were evacuated. On the 18th
the Federals sent a couple of small boats into the
mouth of the river to reconnoiter, but they were soon
driven back by our pickets. On the next day, and

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 9
day after, all the guns were removed from both
islands to Fort Pemberton, higher up the Stono
River — a very strong earth fort that had been built
in preparation for this move. A day or two after,
while our men were still on Battery Island, but Cole's
Island having been deserted, several Federal gun
boats entered the river, shelling the woods and empty
batteries as they advanced. On their approach we
set fire to the barracks and then withdrew across the
causeway to James Island. We had to make haste
across this causeway, because it was within easy
range of the enemy, who soon began to rake it with
shells. This was my first experience with shell fire, and I
soon learned that at long range, to men in the field,
if the shells did not explode it was more alarming
than dangerous. But being quite fresh I thought it
unbecoming to appear concerned, and although at
first, after crossing the causeway, I had stood wisely
behind a friendly oak tree for protection, after the
first shell or two I stepped aside and stood in the
open, foolishly thinking that this was more soldierly.
I had not yet learned that a soldier's common sense
should prompt him to make use of what protection
there may be at hand and to avoid exposing himself
unnecessarily. But only when duty calls, to throw
precaution aside and face whatever there is. While
we were standing on the James Island side of the
causeway a time-fuse shell fell near us, and one of
our men, a new recruit, ran up to it, and stood over

10 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
it with the exclamation, "How the thing does hiss !"
Happily the fuse failed and the shell did not explode.
When I saw the fortunate termination of the affair
I could not resist calling out, "Surely the Lord pro
tects drunken men and fools."
Our company fell back from here to a plantation
about a mile inland, where we made our camp. I
was a very enthusiastic, energetic youngster, and in
pitching our large Sibley tent worked with such
energy that I attracted the attention of one of our
men, Mr. H. Gourdin Young, who jokingly said,
"Ford, you are a splendid worker. If you were a
negro, I would buy you." He was very much my
senior. After remaining here for about two months, our
men doing some picket duty, we were transferred to
Fort Pemberton, a very strong earthwork of 16 guns,
on the Stono River, and garrisoned by Lucas' bat
talion of Regulars, in which my brother was a lieu
tenant. Here we remained for about three months.
, Frequently the Federal gunboats would ascend the
river, and there would be interchanges of shots be
tween them and the fort. On one of these occasions
an amusing incident occurred. Lieutenant Webb, of
our company, had just got a new negro man servant,
who was inexperienced in warfare. One afternoon,
as a few shells were being thrown at the fort from
the gunboats, he was very much scared, saying,
"Dem people trow dem t'ings about yere so careless,
dey won't mind until dey hu't somebody." Just then

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 11
a shell passed over the fort, and exploding in the
rear, a piece cut off a leg of Lieutenant Webb's
horse. "Dere now ; w'at I tell you !" exclaimed Sam.
"Dey done kill Mass Ben's horse."
During the early period of the war a great many
of the private soldiers in the Confederate Army had
their own negro servants in the field with them, who
waited on their masters, cleaned their horses, cooked
their meals, etc. Attached to our company there
were probably twenty-five such servants. This sys
tem continued during the first year or two of the war,
on the Carolina coast, but later on, as the service got
harder and rations became scarcer, these negro ser
vants were gradually sent back home, and the men
did their own work, cooking, etc. As a rule, these
negroes liked the life exceedingly. The work exact
ed of them was necessarily very light. They were
never under fire, unless they chose to go there of
their own accord, which some of them did, keeping
close to their masters. And they spent much of their
time foraging around the neghboring country. Al
though often on the picket lines, night as well as day,
with their masters, I never heard of an instance
where one of these army servants deserted to the
enemy. At this period of the war the Confederate Govern
ment allowed each soldier a certain sum yearly for
his uniform, and each company decided for itself
what its own uniform should be. In consequence,
"uniform" was really an inappropriate term to apply

12 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
to the dress of various organizations. At first our
company was uniformed in gray woolen frock coats,
and trousers of the same material, with blue caps;
next we had gray cotton coats and trousers with gray
cloth hats; then very dark brown coats with blue
trousers furnished by the government, and gray felt
hats ; and finally the gray round jacket, also furnish
ed by the government, which assumed to provide
also the hats, shoes, and underclothing. The shoes,
when we could get them, were heavy English
brogans, very hard on our feet, but durable. It was
in the summer of 1862 that we received our first al
lowance for uniforms, and our quartermaster applied
to a tailor in Charleston to furnish them, but there
was considerable delay in getting them, and the tailor
wrote that goods were then scarce on account of the
moonlight nights, but that in about a fortnight, when
the moon waned, they would be in greater supply,
and the uniforms could be furnished at $2 more per
man than the government allowed. So in due time
we each supplemented the government's allowance
and got new uniforms of very inferior, half cotton
gray stuff, which served us for the rest of the year.
Afterwards the government tried to furnish the men
gratuitously with the best it could, and we did the
best we could with what we got.
In July our command was removed to Charleston,
under orders to go to Virginia. These orders were
countermanded in a few days owing to aggressive
movements of the Federals on the South Carolina

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 13
coast. The remainder of the summer and the fall
were spent in Charleston encamped for most of the
time at the Washington race course, doing duty on
the lines of breastworks thrown up across the neck
just above Magnolia Cemetery. These breastworks
were built to keep any enemy out of the city, but the
nearest enemy on land at that period was on Folley
Island ; in Tennessee to the west ; and Virginia to the
North. And when Sherman did come within 50
miles of Charleston nearly three years later our
troops were too much occupied in getting away to
think of these breastworks. The battalion then con
sisted of three companies, each armed with four 8-
inch howitzers, and all under the command of Maj.
Charles Alston, Jr., Capt. Buist having been promo
ted to major, and assigned to duty near Savannah.
While encamped on the race course I witnessed
the military execution of a deserter. The man be
longed to one of the regiments doing duty about
Charleston, and had been taken in the act of trying
to desert to the enemy; tried by court martial and
condemned to death. On the day fixed for the exe
cution, some of the troops in Charleston were
marched up to the race course, and so formed as to
make three sides of a square. Immediately after fol
lowed a wagon, with the coffin, and seated on it, the
man with his hands tied, and under guard ; the whole
preceded by a band playing the dead march ; and fol
lowed by the detail of twelve men selected by lot to
shoot him. Half the rifles were loaded with balls

14 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
and half with blank cartridges, but none of the detail
knew how his own was loaded. As the procession
halted the coffin was placed on the ground and the
deserter had his hands untied, and knelt in front
of it facing the twelve men who were to do the shoot
ing, and were drawn up about thirty feet in front of
him. At the word of command "aim," the man,
seemingly in desperation, jerked open his shirt and
bared his breast to the bullets. Instantly at the com
mand "fire" the detail fired, and the man fell over
dead on his coffin. It was the most terrible sight I
ever saw, far more dreadful than anything I ever wit
nessed in battle, and it seemed a sad thing that a
really brave man should be so sacrificed ; but such is
one of the necessities of war, and it is necessary to
deter others from playing the role of traitor.
At this time the Federal gunboats were very an
noying in Stono River, coming as high up as possi
ble daily, and shelling our pickets, and it was deter
mined to make a diversion. Therefore, in January,
1863, our battery with Capt. Smith's and other troops
were sent over to John's Island, and ambushed at
Legare's point place to cooperate with two compa
nies of Lucas' battalion and some other troops on
James Island. The design was to capture the Isaac
P. Smith. This vessel was an iron screw steamer of
453 tons, and carried eight 8-inch navy guns, or six
ty-four pounders, and a 7-inch thirty-pounder Par-

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 15
rott gun. She was commanded at the time by Capt.
F. S. Conover ; and her crew consisted of 1 1 officers
and 105 men.
The affair was completely successful. The gun
boat in her daily ascent was taken by surprise, and
after a short fight at only 75 or 100 yards distance,
as she ran trying to escape, had her steam drum torn
by a shell, and had to surrender. She had twenty-
three men killed and wounded, while we lost one
man killed. My howitzer was at a sharp bend in the
river, and as the gunboat ran past, her stern was di
rectly about 100 yards in front of the gun I served.
It put one 8-inch schrapnel shell into her stern port,
and I learned afterwards that the shell knocked a
gun off its trunnions and killed or wounded eight
men. A prize crew was put on board immediately
and the vessel towed by a tug up the river, and later
on to the city. While the prisoners were being land
ed, the U. S. S. Commodore McDonough steamed
up the river and opened fire on us, but a few well-
directed shots from our batteries soon made her
desist and drop back down the river. At nightfall,
our command returned to Charleston.
Our 8-inch howitzers were soon after exchanged
for four twelve-pounder Napoleon guns, and the bat
tery ordered back to James Island. Here in March
we took part in a land affair near Grimball's place on
the Stono.
Our battery was encamped about a mile from the
river, and at daybreak one morning we were aroused

16 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
and hurried down the road toward Grimball's plan
tation. Just before we were about to emerge from
the woods into a field, the musketry firing going on
rapidly on our left front, and a few shells from the
gunboats falling into the woods, we were halted, and
told that just in front was a field reaching to the
river, and as soon as we passed out of the woods the
order "battery by right into line" would be given.
Well, we started at a rapid trot. I was driver of the
lead horses of gun No. 2, and as we passed out of
the woods, in obedience to the command I swung to
the right, gun No. 3 swung to my right, and No. 4 to
right of No. 3, while No. 1 kept straight on down
the road, and we all went forward now at a run into
battery. We galloped down to the edge of the marsh along
the river, and swinging into battery our guns opened
on the U. S. S. Pawnee out in the river, the other
two gunboats being farther down, and around a bend
of the river. We were engaged for about twenty
minutes, when the Pawnee dropped down the river,
and the musketry fire on our left gradually ceased.
It seems that the Federals had advanced on the
island with a force of about 2,000 men, supported by
three gunboats. They had been met, and after sharp
fighting, had been driven back by Col. Gaillard's
Twenty-fifth Regiment South Carolina Volunteers,
the Marion Artillery, — a light battery, — and a

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 17
Georgia regiment, while our battery engaged the
Pawnee. The Confederate loss was 27 men killed
and wounded, and the Federal, 45.
The artillery was under the command of Lieut.
Col. Delaware Kemper, who sat on his horse by our
battery during the scrimmage. After the affair was
over he remarked to our captain, "Captain Webb,
you have a splendid set of young fellows there, but
they need practice. They could not hit John's Island
if they had it for a target." As to our marksman
ship, he was mistaken, however, for we did put sev
eral shells into the Pawnee, and she had to go to Port
Royal for repairs.
In this affair, being a driver, my position while
the guns were in action was standing by my horses
about 100 feet in the rear of my gun ; and it was try
ing to have to stand there quietly, inactive, and take
the shells and few rifle balls that passed by. It would
have been much more agreeable to be actively en
gaged about the gun.
Only a few moments after we had got into action,
our little company dog, a half-breed fox-terrier,
"Boykee," who always stuck to the guns, and seemed
to enjoy the excitement, was struck in the neck by a
piece of shell, directly in front of where I was stand
ing, and ran screaming to the rear. This wound was
not a serious one, and he soon recovered from it.
He was afterwards ignominiously killed by a snake
in Florida.

18 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
In July, 1863, were developed the disastrous re
sults of the evacuation of Cole's Island in May the
year before. As soon as we left that island and Bat
tery Island the Federals occupied them, and used
them as bases for operations against Charleston.
From there they occupied Folley Island, a densely
wooded island where their operations could easily be
concealed. They advanced to the north end of this
island, to Light House Inlet, and under the conceal
ment of the shrubbery built formidable batteries,
which at daybreak one morning were unmasked, and
under a heavy fire from their guns, an infantry
assault in boats was made upon our small force on
the southern end of Morris' Island. After a severe
fight the Federals got a firm foothold upon this
island, which for the next two months or so was the
scene of some of the most sanguinary fighting of the
war. Immediately after this surprise by the Federals a
detachment of our company was placed in charge of
Battery Haskell, on James Island, directly opposite
Morris' Island. The celebrated siege of Battery
Wagner then began, and we used to watch the fight
ing at about three-quarters of a mile distance. The
terrible bombardment and assault of July 18 was one
of the sights of the war. At daylight the bombard
ment of the fort began, and continued without a
minute's cessation all day. Occasionally as many as
four shells were observed in the air at the same time.
The fort itself was enveloped in a dense black pall of

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 19
smoke from bursting shells, and at times was com
pletely hidden. As the afternoon wore on the bom
bardment increased in intensity, and it seemed as if
the very foundations of our part of the world were
being torn to pieces. The garrison was kept in the
bomb-proof, and not a shot was fired in reply. At
dusk the bombardment suddenly ceased, and almost
immediately the guns of the Confederates in Fort
Sumter, trained on the beach in front of Wagner,
opened. Almost simultaneously we saw a mass of
blue spring up apparently from the earth, and ad
vance on Wagner, and then the rattle of musketry.
As the dusk deepened into darkness the rapid flashes
of musketry looked at that distance like vast masses
of fireflies, over a morass. We saw that it was an
infantry assault, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight
it was. But the result was very disastrous to the
Federals, who were repulsed with a loss of upwards
of 2,000 men.
In August was begun the bombardment of Charles
ton, which was continued steadily for a year and a
half. On the night of the 21st, at 10.45 o'clock, Gen
eral Beauregard received an unsigned note, brought
to our pickets, purporting to be from General Gil-
more, demanding the evacuation and surrender of
Morris' Island and Fort Sumter under penalty of the
bombardment of the city within four hours after the
note had been sent by him. Two hours and three-
quarters after this note had reached General Beaure
gard's hands, at 1.30 o'clock on the morning of the

20 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
22d, the Federal battery in the marsh on the edge of
the creek separating Morris from James Island, open
ed fire, and threw a number of shells into the city. At
about 9 o'clock on the morning of the 22d, seven and
a quarter hours after the bombardment had begun,
General Gilmore sent a properly signed note making
the same demands. This note was immediately an
swered by General Beauregard with an emphatic re
fusal, and some severe remarks as to his firing upon
a city full of women and children before he had given
them reasonable time to escape. As may be imagin
ed, the terror of the women and children in Charles
ton that night was extreme when it was realized that
the city was being bombarded. The distance in a
direct line from the Swamp Angel Battery, as it was
called, to the city was about 5 miles, and it had not
been thought that any gun could shoot that far. At
first only percussion shells were used, but later on, in
1864, time- fuse shells were also used, and were much
more dangerous, as they nearly always exploded.
Battery Haskell, at which our company was station
ed, was nearly in line between the Swamp Angel and
the city, and constantly we watched the shells, city-
bound, passing over our heads high in the air. At
night, when fuse shells were used, they looked like
slow meteors.
Frequently, when the tide was high, some of the
Federal gunboats came into the inlet in front of Bat
tery Haskell, and about half a mile off, and threw
a number of shells into it. But no harm was done,

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 21
as we could easily see the shells coming, and dodged
them. We were very seldom allowed to reply. After
the shelling was over, and the gunboat had hauled
off, it was my habit to go about and pick up the
shells, generally about sixty-pounders, and store
them under my cot in my tent until I could find time
to unscrew the fuse plugs and pour out all of the
powder. As soon as I had gathered a wagon load I
would carry them to Charleston and sell them at the
arsenal. This was such a period of violence and
bloodshed that the fearful risk of explosion did not
concern me, and what I am equally surprised at now,
after the lapse of many years, is that my officers al
lowed such a thing to be done in the battery, or in
fact at all.
Here I witnessed an occurrence that, according to
the law of chances, would not happen once in a thou
sand times. In the battery was a dry well, about six
or eight feet deep, and one afternoon, while our
friend the gunboat was throwing the usual shells at
us, and we were dodging them, I remarked to a com
rade that "that old well would be a good place to get
into." The remark had scarcely been made before a
shell dropped into that well as accurately as possible.
It was simply one of those remarkable occurrences
that happen in real life, but which writers dare not
put in fiction.
The picket line on James Island in this vicinity,
together with Battery Haskell, was then under the
command of Maj. Edward Manigault, an officer of

22 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
very exceptional ability. During this summer our
shortness of rations began, and continued rather to
intensify until the end. For one period of about two
months it consisted of only one small loaf of baker's
bread and a gill of sorghum syrup daily. For that
time we had not a particle of either fresh or salt meat.
If we had not been where we could obtain plenty of
fish, we would have suffered seriously. The quarter
master's department was as badly crippled as the
commissary's and most of us could get no new shoes,
and several of our men were actually barefooted in
consequence; but it being summer, and on a sandy
coast, there was not as much suffering as might have
been otherwise. Scurvy, fever, and other ailments
were very general and several deaths resulted. The
battery was on a strip of land separated from the
main land of James Island by a marsh and small
creek, over which was a causeway and bridge. This
causeway was watched from the Federal gunboats,
and every time even one man would go across it he
would be saluted with a shell or two. On one occa
sion I was ordered to drive several sick men to the
city in an ambulance, and as we struck the causeway
a gunboat sent the customary shells at us. The sick
men were nervous, and one of the men called out,
- "For God's sake, Ford, put down the curtains !"
Toward the fall of 1863, after the evacuation of
Morris Island by the Confederate troops, our com
pany was withdrawn, and returned to the old camp
ing ground at Heyward's place near Wappoo Cut.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 23
As it seemed that we would remain here all win
ter, as we really did, I obtained permission to build
a log cabin for myself and my mess. One day, as
I was building the chimney, I saw Maj. Edward
Manigault and his brother, Gen. Arthur Manigault,
who was spending the day with him, walking to
ward me to inspect the guns parked near by. As
they approached I jumped down off the scaffolding
and saluted them. They returned the salute, and
then the Major said: "We have been admiring
your chimney, Mr. Ford. It is as well built as if
a mason had done the work." The old man, when
ever on the few occasions he spoke to me, strange to
say, always addressed me, a private soldier, as
"Mr." Ford. I never could account for it, unless it
was that he knew all about me and my people.
He had been a West Pointer, but had resigned from
the U. S. Army a good many years before. Thus
he was a strict disciplinarian, and on that account
at that time not popular with the men ; but I always
liked him, and approved of his discipline. Later on,
as the service became more exacting, and really ac
tive, the men became devoted to him, as they realized
his ability as an officer.
On December 23 our company, then having four
24-pounder Parrott guns, started off for John's
Island, where an attempt was to be made to capture
a small body of Federals that were near Legareville,
and also to sink or capture a Federal gunboat that
was off that place. Our company was to have been

24 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
supported by a Virginia regiment. On Christmas
day at daylight we opened fire from our masked
battery upon the two gunboats, for there were two
on hand instead of one, but the infantry remained
in the background, and failed to attack the Federals
near Legareville as designed, and we had to bear the
whole brunt of the fight. It was a sharp affair, and
we soon had to get out of it as best we could, with
the loss of several men and a half dozen horses.
In this affair I had a very narrow escape, and
another man lost his life in my stead. I had been
lead driver on gun No. 2, and when we started on
this expedition I was transferred to cannoneer's
duty, and young Heyward Ancrum given my horses.
Well, in the fight a shell from the U. S. S. Marble-
head passed entirely through the bodies of both of
my horses, and took off Ancrum's leg at the knee.
He fell among the struggling, dying horses, but
was pulled out, and died soon after. He was cer
tainly killed in my place.
It was about this time that I saw that celebrated
torpedo submarine boat, the Hundley, the first sub
marine boat ever built. As I was standing on the
bank of the Stono River, I saw the boat passing
along the river, where her builder, H. L. Hundley,
had brought her for practice. I watched her as she
disappeared around a bend of the river, and little
thought of the fearful tragedy that was immediately
to ensue. She made an experimental dive, stuck

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 25
her nose in the mud, and drowned her entire crew.
Her career was such an eventful one that I record
what I recollect of it.
She was built in Mobile by Hundley, and brought
on to Charleston in 1863. She was of iron, about
20 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 5 feet deep — in fact,
not far from round, as I have seen it stated; and
equipped with two fins, by which she could be raised
or lowered in the water. The intention of her
builder was that she should dive under an enemy's
vessel, with a torpedo in tow, which would be
dragged against the vessel, and exploded while the
Hundley, or "Fish," as some called her, rose on the
other side. She was worked by a hand propeller,
and equipped with water tanks, which could be
filled or emptied at pleasure, and thus regulate her
sinking or rising. The first experiment with her was
made in Mobile Bay, and she went down all right
with her crew of seven men, but did not come up,
and every man died, asphyxiated, as no provision
had been made for storing a supply of air.
As soon as she was raised, she was brought to
Charleston, and a few days after her acceptance by
General Beauregard, Lieutenant Payne, of the Con
federate Navy, volunteered with a crew of six men
to man her and attack the Federal fleet off Charles
ton. While he had her at Fort Johnson, on James
Island, and was making preparations for the attack,
one night as she was lying at the wharf the swell
of a passing steamer filled her, and she went to the

26 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
bottom, carrying with her and drowning the six
men. Lieutenant Payne happened to be near an
open manhole at the moment, and thus he alone
escaped. Notwithstanding the evidently fatal char
acteristics of this boat, as soon as she was raised
another crew of six men volunteered under Payne
and took charge of her. But only a week afterwards
an exactly similar accident happened while she was
alongside the wharf at Fort Sumter, and only Payne
and two of his men escaped.
H. L. Hundley, her builder in Mobile, now be
lieved that the crews did not understand how to
manage the "Fish," and came on to Charleston to
see if he could not show how it should be done. A
Lieutenant Dixon, of Alabama, had made several
successful experiments with the boat in Mobile Bay,
and he also came on, and was put in charge, with
a volunteer crew, and made several successful dives
in the harbor. But one day, the day on which I
saw the boat, Hundley himself took it into Stono
River to practice her crew. She went down all right,
but did not come up, and when she was searched for,
found and raised to the surface, all of her crew
were dead, asphyxiated as others had been.
After the boat was brought up to Charleston,
several successful experiments were made with her,
until she attempted to dive under the Confederate
receiving ship Indian Chief, when she got entangled
with an anchor chain and went to the bottom, and

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 27
remained there until she was raised with every one
of her crew dead, as were their predecessors.
No sooner had she been raised than a number of
men begged to be allowed to give her another trial,
and Lieutenant Dixon was given permission to use
her in an attack on the U. S. S. Housatonic, a new
gunboat that lay off Beach Inlet on the bar, on the
condition that she should not be used as a submarine
vessel, but only on the surface with a spar torpedo.
On February 17, 1864, Lieutenant Dixon, with a
crew of six men, made their way with the boat
through the creeks behind Sullivan's Island to the
inlet. The night was not very dark, and the Housa
tonic easily could be perceived lying at anchor, un
mindful of danger. The "Fish" went direct for her
victim, and her torpedo striking the side tore a
tremendous hole in the Housatonic, which sank to
the bottom in about four minutes. But as the water
was not very deep her masts remained above water,
and all of the crew, except four or five saved them
selves by climbing and clinging to them. But the
"Fish" was not seen again. From some unknown
cause she again sank, and all her crew perished.
Several years after the war, when the government
was clearing the wrecks and obstructions out of
Charleston harbor, the divers visited the scene of this
attack, and on the sandy bottom of the sea found
the hulk of the Housatonic, and alongside of her
the shell of the "Fish." Within the latter were the
skeletons of her devoted crew.

28 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
This submarine torpedo boat must not be confused
with the surface ones, called "Davids," that were
first built and used at Charleston in the fall of 1863.
These "Davids" were cigar-shaped crafts about 30
feet long, and propelled by miniature steam engines ;
and they each carried a torpedo at the end of a spar in
the bow. There were several of them at Charleston
and points along the coast.
In March, 1864, I had the only violent illness I
had during my service, until at the end, a year later,
and being given a thirty-day furlough went up to
Sumter, where I had some near relatives. Here I
stayed a couple of weeks, and then went over to
Aiken, where my parents and sisters resided. Al
though the distance from Sumter to Aiken was only
about 135 miles, the railway trains took seventeen
hours to make the distance. It is hard to realize
now the delays and discomforts of travel in the
South in 1864. With worn-out tracks and road
beds, dilapidated engines and cars, it is remarkable
that the railway trains were able to run at all. On
this occasion, which was typical of travel then,
I left Sumter at 10 o'clock p. m., and just before
reaching Kingsville the engine ran off the track
from a worn-out rail. Two hours or more were
spent in prying it back. Then shortly after the train
stopped in a piece of woodland, and the fireman
and train hands took their axes and spent an hour
cutting wood and putting it on the tender. So it
was full daylight when we reached Kingsville.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 29
From there all went well until after passing Branch
viUe the engine broke one of its connecting rods,
and we had to wait until another engine could be
got from BranchviUe. Some miles farther up the
road the train again stopped, and the hands went
into the woods and cut wood for the engine. Fi
nally, at about four o'clock in the afternoon I arrived
at Aiken. Here I remained for a fortnight, and
then joined my command, which had just been or
dered to Florida.
Early in the spring the Federals made an advance
into Florida from Jacksonville, and a number of
troops were sent from South Carolina to oppose
them. Among them was our battery of artillery.
We reached the section of the State threatened the
day after the battle of Olustee, or Ocean Pond, and
were then ordered back to Madison, where we en
camped, and during our stay there of a couple of
weeks were most hospitably treated by the ladies of
the town.
This battle of Olustee was a very severe fight,
and a bloody one, in which the Federals under Gen
eral Seymour were routed by the Confederates under
Gen. Pat. Finnigan and Gen. A. H. Colquitt. In
this battle the Federal loss was about 1,900 men
and the Confederate about 1,000. The obstinacy of
the struggle may be appreciated when it is observed
that, out of the total of 11,000 men engaged, the
casualties amounted to 2,900, nearly 2f per cent.
As I have said, our battery reached the scene after

30 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
the battle, so we made no stay near Olustee, but
retired to Madison. The wounded were all cared
for at the wayside hospitals, and the dead white men
of both sides buried ; but the dead negroes were left
where they fell. There had been several regiments
of negroes in the Federal force, who as usual had
been put into the front lines, and thus received the
full effect of the Confederate fire. The field was
dotted everywhere with dead negroes, who with the
dead horses here and there soon created an intoler
able stench, perceptible for half a mile or more. The
-hogs which roamed at large over the country were
soon attracted to the spot and tore many of the
bodies to pieces, feeding upon them. This field of
death, enlivened by numbers of hogs grunting and
squealing over their hideous meal, was one of the
most repulsive sights I ever saw.
About the beginning of March our battery was
ordered to Baldwin, about 9 miles from Jackson
ville. Here we remained for nearly a month, and
strange to say had a very uncomfortable time as
far as food was concerned. The surrounding coun
try was barren, swampy, and very thinly settled,
so there was very little private foraging to be done
and we had to suffer from the very scant rations
served out by the commissary.
This department was in a very disorganized con
dition, probably because of the sudden massing of
troops at an unexpected point ; but the fact was that
our men seldom got enough of even the coarsest

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 31
food. Our battery horses were supplied with corn
and forage, and on several occasions after going
twenty-four hours without any food I made use of
some opportunity to steal the horses' corn, and
parched that for a meal. \
The bacon served out occasionally was of the
most emphatic character, and very animated, but
when fried and eaten with eyes shut, and nostrils )
closed, did no harm. Once in a while some of the '
men would go into the swamp and still-hunt wild
hogs, and we would get some fresh pork. This
hunting was against orders, and the officers tried
their best to stop it, and occasionally some man
would be caught at it and punished, but the men
were really too much in need of food to remain
quiet when game could be had. These hogs had
once had recognized owners, but since that section
of country had been deserted, had run wild, and
lived in the swamp. It was by no means easy to
shoot them, as they were very wary, and however
quiet the hunter might remain behind his brush blind
would often detect his presence by their sense of
smell, and could not be decoyed within range.
My company was soon ordered back to South
Carolina, and our route lay over the Albany and
Gulf Railroad, now the Atlantic Coast Line, from
Quitman to Savannah. This road, like all others
in the South, was in a terribly dilapidated condi
tion — rails and trestles decayed, and rolling-stock
worn out. The engine that drew our train, con-

32 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
taining only our battery, was unable to do the work,
and several times when we reached the easy grades
on that generally very level road, the men would be
compelled to get off and assist the engine by pushing
the train up the incline. When the train was got up
to the top of the grade it would go down the other
side by its own impetus, and on level stretches the
engine got along fairly well. We made the distance
of 170 miles in about sixteen hours, a little over ten
miles an hour — fairly good speed in the South in
1864. Our battery was stopped at Green Pond, on the
Savannah and Charleston Railroad, and we spent
the summer of 1864 doing picket duty at Combahee
Point, and along the Ashepoo River.
At Combahee Point we were stationed on Mr.
Andrew Burnett's plantation. The camp was located
on the edge of the abandoned rice field, while the
picket post was in front on some breastworks on
the river's edge. The old rice fields were more or
less overflowed, the banks having been broken for
two years or more, and in them were numerous alli
gators, some of considerable size. At night the
noises made by these amphibians, and the raccoons
in the adjacent marsh, would have been interesting
to a naturalist, but were annoying to us. But the
most serious disturbers of our peace were the mos
quitoes. These were of such size and venom and

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 33
in such numbers as to cause real suffering, and
necessitate the use of unusual schemes to protect
ourselves against their attacks.
Accounts of these mosquitoes must seem incredi
ble to any one who has never spent a midsummer's
night in the rice fields ; and very few white people
have done this since the war. During the day the
comparatively few that were about could be driven
pff by tobacco smoke and other means, but when
night fell, and the myriads came up from the fields
and marsh, then the situation became serious. When
we were on sentry duty, walking post, many of us
wore thick woolen gloves to protect our hands ; and
over our heads and necks frames made of thin hoops
covered with mosquito netting. And when we
wanted to retire to our small "A" tents, we had to
make smudge fires in them first, and then crawl in
on our hands and knees, and keep our faces near
the ground to breathe, until finally we got asleep.
And, moreover, we dared not let our faces or hands
touch the sides of the tent, for immediately the
mighty insects would thrust their probosces
through the canvas and get us. I feel dubious about
the advisability of recording such a statement, but as
I am stating only facts as I experienced them, this
must go on record.
In this rice field section our men suffered greatly
from fever, and there were several deaths. I was
the only man in the company of 70 who persisted

34 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
in taking three grains of quinine daily, and one
other of our men and I were the only two who did
not have a touch of fever.
While on duty here, early one morning four negro
men came to our picket bringing two Federal offi
cers, and turned them over to us. Upon inquiry it
seemed that these two officers, one of them a Captain
Strong of the Regular Army, and the other a Volun
teer lieutenant, had been captured in Virginia, and
were on their way to prison in Georgia, but had
escaped from the cars on the Savannah and Charles
ton Railroad, and had tried to make their way to
the Federal fleet, but were simply starved out, until
they had to appeal to the negroes for help, and they
promptly brought them in to us. I was detailed as
one of the men to guard and carry them to Green
Pond, about 15 miles off, and deliver them to the
authorities. On the way we stopped for a moment
at Mr. Benjamin Rhett's plantation, who, as soon
as he learned what was up came to the wagon and
with the consent of the sergeant in command, invited
the officers into his house. There, as soon as they
had made some ablutions, he carried them in to
breakfast, and entertained them for an hour ; at the
same time sending breakfast and genuine coffee out
to us. Captain Strong spoke to me very pleasantly,
and said that he was a graduate of West Point ; and
learning that I was from Charleston, inquired about
several people there whom I knew, among others of
Col. Sam. Ferguson, who he said had been a class-

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 35
mate of his at the Academy, and who I told him was
at that time with the army in the West. I recollect
that he was interested at hearing of him. He seemed
also quite struck with the youthfulness of our men,
and remarked on it.
Late in the fall our battery was removed to a
point on the Charleston and Savannah Railroad,
south of Green Pond, and put in charge of a battery
there, as the Federals had advanced up from Port
Royal, with the evident intention of attempting to
seize the railroad. It seems that this really was the
aim of the movement, conducted under the command
of Gen. Guy V. Henry. And this movement was
suggested by General Sherman, who, when he deter
mined upon his march through Georgia, stated to the
government at Washington that he expected to reach
Savannah about the end of December, and suggested
that the railway between Charleston and Savannah
be destroyed before he got there. The Federals
made several advances, but never could get nearer
than about half a mile of the railroad, and in their
efforts to do so were defeated and driven back in
two or three affairs, notably in a serious fight at
Tulafinny, in which the cadets of the South Carolina
Military Academy, mere boys, were engaged.
In these infantry affairs we had no part, as they
occurred at some distance from our position. Our
company' at the time was serving as heavy artiller
ists, and, as I have said, had charge of a battery
commanding the railroad. The Federals had, how-

36 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
ever, established a battery of field pieces about 700
yards in our front, and there were frequent artil
lery duels, but without serious injury, certainly to
our side. There was a short section of the railway
track in an open piece of country, of which the
enemy got the range, and every time a train passed
in the daytime they would open on it with their guns.
When the engineers approached this section they
put on all the speed attainable, which was not very
much at best, with the dilapidated engines they then
had, and there was considerable interesting excite
ment in being on a flat car and running the gauntlet
in this way. I do not think, however, that a train
was ever hit.
About December the field pieces were taken away
from our company and Capt. Porcher Smith's, and
both were turned into infantry, and armed with
old-fashioned Belgian rifles, probably the most anti
quated and worthless guns ever put into a modern
soldier's hands. But they were all our government
had. These rifles could not send a ball beyond 200
yards, and at much shorter range their aim was
entirely unreliable. This our men felt hard to stand,
as they knew that at this period the Federal soldiers
were being generally armed with breech-loading
Springfield rifles, weapons which thirty years later
were reckoned very formidable. We soon after were
ordered back to James Island, where with Captain
Smith's company we were again under the com
mand of Maj. Edward Manigault. We were at once

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 37
put on very arduous picket duty along the lines on
the southwestern part of the island. The weather
at this time I well recollect was unusually cold and
wet, and with an insufficiency of food and clothing,
our sufferings were severe. Men had got very
scarce then, and the same relay had to be kept on
picket week after week without relief, and the men
would often have to stand guard on the outposts
eight or ten hours on a stretch.
On one occasion while another man and I were
on sentry duty on the lines in the rifle-pits, at the
break of day we saw the two Federal sentries on the
other side of the intervening marsh desert their
posts, and unarmed walk quickly toward us. When
they got within about ten paces we halted them, and
called our officer. As soon as he came up we turned
them over to him. I always had a loathing for a
deserter, and said to the men, "If I had my way I
would have you given thirty-nine lashes each and
sent back under flag of truce to your command, so
you could be shot as you deserve." One of them
twiggled his fingers on his nose and replied, "Ah,
but you hav'n't got no say in the matter."
While on duty on these outpost lines, the Federals
frequently shelled us from their gunboats in Stono
River. We did not mind the Parrott shells, but the
shells from the Cohorn mortars on a mortar schoon
er were very trying. They would fall, apparently
from the sky, and there was no dodging them. But
fortunately none of them fell directly in the rifle-

38 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
pits, but all exploded harmlessly in the field. All old
soldiers know that mortar shells take a very mean
advantage of a man.
One of the outposts on these lines which was
manned only at night was out in the marsh, and I
had it one night, and it was about the most disagree
able night I ever had on picket. I was placed on
the post at dark, with orders to keep in the marsh,
at the edge of the tide as it went down, and to
come in at the first daylight. I was all the time up
to my insteps in mud, by myself, with the rain fall
ing all night. I stood out in that marsh from dark
until daylight, in the drenching rain, for about ten
hours. Like most of the men, I had no oilskin, or
any protection against the weather, and of course
was thoroughly drenched early in the night, and the
steady rain all night kept me saturated. The best
I could do was to try to keep my ammunition and
gun-lock dry. It was certainly the worst night I ever
spent. On February 10, 1865, we had our first serious
infantry fight, as infantry. We were doing picket
duty at this time on the lines near Grimball's cause
way, with our right extending to Stono River. At
about daylight that morning the Federals began to
shell our lines from four gunboats and a mortar
schooner, whose masts we could see over the trees;
and soon after we could see a large force of their
infantry assembling on Legare's plantation on the
other side of the flat and marsh in front of our lines.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 39
Our entire force along this part of the lines con
sisted of 52 men of our company and 40 men of
the Second South Carolina Artillery and about 20
cavalry, together with 7 officers — all told, 119 men.
Just before the Federal infantry advanced, a section
of artillery took position at about 600 yards in front
of us, and shelled our line, but did no damage. The
Federal infantry engaged, as I learned a few months
afterwards from one of their officers, were the Fifty-
fourth and One Hundred and Forty-fourth New
York, white; and the Thirty-second, Thirty-third,
and Fifty-fifth U. S. negro troops, altogether about
1,500 men, and one section of artillery. We were
assaulted directly in front, but held our ground
until the enemy were within 30 feet of our line;
in fact, some of their men were actually into our
trenches, and having hand-to-hand fights with our
men. So close had they got that I had ceased firing,
and had just fixed my bayonet, and braced myself
for a hand-to-hand fight, when Major Manigault,
who was standing only a few paces to my right
in rear of the line, gave the order to retreat. To this
moment not a man had flinched, but at the order to
retreat we broke for the rear, a few of the men
reloading, turning, and firing back as they retreated.
We halted at a ditch about 300 yards in the rear,
where we found the battalion of cadets of the South
Carolina Military Academy, and a company of the
Second Regiment South Carolina Artillery, alto
gether about 185 men. We who had come out of

40 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
the affair, feeling strong with this support, were
anxious to return and try to drive back the Fed
erals, but weShad^no such orders. And probably
it was well we did not do so; for about 700 of the
enemy were white men, and, as I afterwards learned,
more than half of them Irish; and for about 267
men to tackle in open fight nearly three times their
number, of that class of men, was too serious an
mdertaking to be attempted. Of course as to the
•00 negroes the odds would not have been counted.
In this affair, of the 119 Confederates engaged,
we lost 2 officers, of whom one was the gallant
Major Manigault, severely wounded, and 37 men.
The Federals lost 88. Our loss, as is shown, was
about 33 per cent, of our force engaged, and this
large mortality shows the heavy fire to which we
were subjected. General Schimmelpfennig was in
general command of the affair, but the assault was
led by Colonel Bennett, who, mounted upon a sorrel
horse, was a mark for several shots from our
wretched rifles, but escaped unhurt.
The point where I was, just about the center of
our line, at the causeway, was assaulted by a regi
ment of negro troops ; and as they got near to us
I distinctly heard their officers cursing them. I
heard one officer say, "Keep in line there, you
damned scoundrels !" and another, "Go on, you
damned rascals, or I'll chop you down!" I saw
the line waver badly when it got to within fifty yards
of us, and on this occasion at least it did not look

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 41
to me as if the negroes had the spirit to "fight no-J
bly." I know it is a catch phrase elsewhere than
the cojored troops fought nobly, but I testify to what!
I saw and heard.
As to these negro troops, there was a sequel, 1
nearly a year later. When I was peaceably in my'
office in Charleston one of my family's former
slaves, "Taffy" by name, came in to see me. Iri
former times he had been a waiter "in the house,"*
and was about my own age; but in i860, in the
settlement of an estate, he with his parents, aunt,
and brother were sold to Mr. John Ashe, and put
on his plantation near Port Royal. Of course, when >i
the Federals overran that section they took in all f
these "contrabands," as they were called, and Taffy i
became a soldier, and was in one of the regiments/
that assaulted us. In reply to a question from me, i
he foolishly said he "liked it." I only replied, "Well, \
I'm sorry I didn't kill you as you deserved, that's .{-
all I have to say." He only grinned.
On February 17, James Island was evacuated by
the Confederates. Captain Matthews' s company,
formerly artillery but now infantry, was added to
our two, and the battalion known as Manigault's,
or the Eighteenth South Carolina Battalion. Major
Manigault being wounded, and a prisoner, Capt. B.
C. Webb, of Company A, was in command. Our
line of march was through St. Andrew's Parish,
across the bridge at Bee's Ferry, and along the old
State road past Otranto across Goose Creek bridge,

42 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
which was burned as soon as the last troops had
crossed. Our men had started on this march with
as much baggage as they thought they could carry,
but they soon threw aside their impedimenta, and
each settled down to his one blanket and such
clothes as he actually wore. This march across the
Carolinas was a very hard one. Our feet soon
became blistered and sore, and many of us had
no shoes, but trudged along in the cold and mud
barefooted as best we could. As I have already
said, this was a cold winter, and it seemed to us
that it rained and froze constantly. Not a particle
of shelter did we have day or night. We would
march all day, often in more or less rain, and at
nightfall halt, and bivouac in the bushes, with every
particle of food or clothing saturated. Within a
few minutes after a halt, even under a steady rain,
fires would be burning and quickly extend through
the bivouac. If a civilian should attempt to kindle
a fire with soaked wood under a steady rain, he
would find his patience sorely tried, but the soldiers
seemed to have no trouble.
After the fires were kindled we had to wait for
the arrival of the commissary wagons; and it was
not uncommon for a detail of men to be sent back
in the night to help push the wagons through the
mud; weary, footsore, hungry, in the dark, up to
the knees in mud, heaving on the wheels of a stalled
wagon! It was often late at night before the wag
ons were got up and rations could be obtained.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 43
The men, of course, had to take turns in the use
of the two or three frying-pans carried for each
company, and when worn down by marching from
early dawn until dark it was disheartening to have
to wait one's turn, which often did not come until
eleven o'clock at night. Frequently the men, rather
than wait for the frying-pan, would fry their scraps
of bacon on the coals, and make the cornmeal into
dough, which they would wrap around the ends
of their ramrods and toast in the fire. When the
rations were drawn they consisted of only seven
ounces of bacon and one pint of cornmeal to the
man per day; and on several occasions even these
could not be had, and the men went to sleep supper-
less, and with nothing to eat during the next day.
The commissary department of the corps seemed
to be unequal to the occasion, but this fact is not
surprising when the rapidity of the march and deso
lation of the country are considered. Nevertheless,
on several occasions the writer's command passed
forty hours without receiving any rations, and once
fifty hours, so that we were glad of an opportunity
to beg at any farm-house for an ear of corn with
which to alleviate our hunger.
All along the line of march large numbers of men
were constantly deserting. Nightly, under cover of
darkness, many would sneak from their bivouacs
and go off, not to the enemy, but to their homes.
But those of our men who remained were in good
spirits.

44 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
The most influential cause of desertions was the
news that reached the men of the great suffering
of their wives and children at home, caused by the
devastations of Sherman's army. Wherever this
army passed from Atlanta to Savannah, and from
Savannah through Columbia, Camden, and Cheraw,
into North Carolina, a tract of country 30 miles wide
was devastated. Farm-houses, barns, mills, etc.,
were all burned. Farm animals, poultry, etc, were
all ruthlessly killed, and the women and children
left to starve. This was most especially the case in
South Carolina, where Sherman burned every town
in his path — Walterboro, Barnwell, Midway, Bam
berg, Blackville, Williston, Orangeburg, Columbia,
Camden, and Cheraw. His cavalry leader, General
Kilpatrick, attempted to burn Aiken, but was quickly
beaten off by General Wheeler. When the men
learned of the suffering of their women at home,
many of them not unnaturally deserted, and went
to their aid.
This terrible strain on the integrity of the men
was the cause of a pitiable execution that took place
on the line of march one day. A sergeant in the
First Regiment Regulars, upon being reproved by
his lieutenant for justifying and advising the deser
tion of the men, in a fit of temper attempted to
shoot this officer. The line was immediately halted,
the man was carried before a drum-head court mar
tial, tried, and condemned to be shot on the spot.
He was led out, tied with his back against a tree,

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 45 s
and shot to death. It was an awful sight. I recol
lect that while awaiting death, the chaplain spoke
to him, and offered to pray with him. His only
reply was, "Preacher, I never listened to you in
Fort Sumter, and I won't listen to you now."
All of the Confederate troops in South Carolina
were under the command of Lieut-Gen. T. J. Har
dee, one of the ablest corps commanders in the
Confederate service. He was nicknamed by the
men, "Old Reliable." Our battalion, known also as
the Eighteenth, with Major Bonneau's Georgia bat
talion, the battalion of Citadel Cadets, and the
Second Regiment South Carolina Heavy Artillery
constituted Brig.-Gen. Stephen Elliott's brigade,
which, with Col. Alfred Rhett's brigade, constituted
Maj. -Gen. Taliaferro's division. About March I
we reached Cheraw, which we left two days after.
As we left the town Sherman's army pressed us
closely, and my recollection is that there was a sharp
cavalry skirmish at the bridge, which we burned as
soon as our troops had got across. I think Gen.
M. C. Butler was the last man to cross, and galloped
across it while it was actually in flames. At the
State line the Citadel Cadets left us, and returned
to South Carolina.
The route of the army lay through Fayetteville,
N. C, where we crossed the Cape Fear River about
a week later. After our men had crossed the bridge
I was detailed from my company as one of a number
to guard it, until all the wagons, etc., and the last

46 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
of the cavalry had got across and it was burned,
and when the bridge had been burned, one of the
cavalrymen let me ride a led horse until I caught
up with my command some distance in front. I
remember his telling me of a very remarkable scrim
mage that had just occurred on the other side in
Fayetteville. It seems that before all of our wagons
had got across the bridge, and our own cavalry had
come up, a troop of about 70 Federal cavalry rode
into the town to cut our wagons, etc., off from the
bridge. General Hampton, with two of his staff
officers and four couriers, in all only seven men,
instantly dashed themselves against the Federals,
and in a hand-to-hand fight killed eleven of them,
captured as many more, and ran the rest out of town,
and all without the loss of a single man. A very
remarkable affair. I also heard that Hampton
had caught a spy, who would be hanged when the
army halted. I never heard anything more about it,
as I had other things much more personal to engage
my attention, and presumed he was strung up ac
cording to military usage.
But it seems that the man was not hanged. Wells,
in "Hampton and His Cavalry in '64," gives the
particulars of this wonderful affair, and states that
the spy's name was David Day, and that he was
turned over to some junior reserves for safe keeping
and escaped. And there was an interesting sequel.
Thirty-one years after this fight, Hampton then
being United States Railway Commissioner, and in

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 47
Denver, Colorado, a stranger called upon him and
explained that he was the David Day, the spy cap
tured in the affair, dressed in Confederate uniform.
Hampton congratulated him and said he was "glad
the hanging did not come off." "So am I," replied
the other, laughing.
¦ At Fayetteville a few of the men of our company,
I among them, procured Enfield rifles in place of
the old Belgians we had, and also got ammunition
to suit. The Enfield was a muzzle loader, but
really one of the best guns of the day of its kind,-
and fairly accurate at 600 yards. About half of the
company, however, had only the worthless Belgians
to the end.
We were now so closely pursued by Sherman
that on March 16 General Hardee, having about
6,000 men, determined to make a stand near Averys-
boro, between the Cape Fear and Black Rivers,
where at daylight Taliaferro's division was attacked
full in front by the Fourteenth and Twentieth Corps
of the Federal Army, and Kilpatrick's cavalry, alto
gether about 20,000 men, General Sherman being
personally on the field. The fighting was stubborn,
at very close quarters, along the entire line. Twenty
men, of whom I was one, were detailed from Elliott's
brigade and attached to the left of Colonel Butler's
First Regular Infantry, of Rhett's brigade, and
there I served through the fight. We held our posi
tion in the open woods without protection for about
three hours, and repulsed repeated assaults, until

4 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
the left of the line, resting on a swamp along the
Black River, which had been thought to be impass
able, was turned by a heavy force of Federals, which
had made their way through the swamp. This force,
I afterwards learned, was Colonel Jones's regiment
of Indiana cavalry, fighting as infantry, and armed
with Spencer magazine carbines. Our whole force
then fell back about 400 yards to a line of breast
works manned by McLaws's skeleton division, and
which the Federals later in the day unsuccessfully
assaulted. The Confederate loss in this battle was
500, and the next day some of Kilpatrick's cavalry
men, who had just been captured, told me that the
Federal loss had been about 2,500. The Confeder
ate forces engaged in this fight were Rhett's and
Elliott's brigades, two artillery companies, and
McLaws's division; and it was not the intention of
General Hardee that Taliaferro's division should
make such a stubborn stand-up fight. It was the
intention that they should engage only as skirmish
ers, bring on the fight, and then fall back gradually
into the breastworks, where the real fighting was to
have been done. But Elliott's and Rhett's men had
previously done only garrison and artillery duty on
the coast, and this was their first experience in in
fantry fighting in the open, and they knew no better
than to stand up and fight it out. Sherman in his
report to the U. S. War Department of this affair
expressed his surprise at the tenacity with which
our men held their ground.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 49
It was on this occasion that Col. Alfred Rhett
was captured. It seems that a Captain Theo. F.
Northrop, of a regiment of New York cavalry, was
scouting with a few men at early dawn on the morn
ing of the battle, and just in front of our lines came
unexpectedly upon Generals Hampton and Talia
ferro, with a group of aids. He and his men
promptly made themselves invisible, and withdrew,
and a few moments after Colonel Rhett rode up
on them. He put his pistol in Colonel Rhett's face
and said, "You must come with me." Colonel Rhett
replied, "Who the hell are you ?" and drew his pistol
to fight. Instantly the men with Captaiii Northrop
put their carbines to Colonel Rhett's head, and he,
seeing how the case stood, gave up, and was carried
to General Slocum, who sent him to' General Sher
man's headquarters. Captain Northrop has stated
to me that Colonel Rhett told him that when first
accosted he thought he was dealing with one of
General Wheeler's men, and he would have shot
him for his insolence. And he was always satisfied
that if Colonel Rhett had realized at the very first
that they were the enemy he met, he would have
fought and tried to get away, although he would
have probably been killed in the attempt.
Captain Northrop took Colonel Rhett's sword
and pistol. The sword was lost some years ago in
a railway train, but he has the pistol still, with
Colonel Rhett's name engraved on it.

50 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
The fight took place in a piece of pine forest,
and there were many trees that afforded protection
to the men on both sides. The lines were very close
together, so close that I could at times clearly observe
the faces of the Federal soldiers opposite. At one
time I was protected by a good pine tree and felt
quite comfortable as the bullets thwacked against
the other side of it; but within a few feet, to my
left, was an old stump-hole full of dry leaves, and
the bullets striking in those leaves made a terrible
racket. I stood the racket as long as I could, but
finally could stand it no longer, and contrary to
common sense abandoned my friendly tree and
stepped a few paces to the right, away from that
noisy stump-hole. There I stood unprotected in
the open, but not many minutes before I was struck
full in the middle of my body and knocked down
to a sitting posture. My blanket was rolled in a
tight roll, not over three inches thick, and being of
course on my left shoulder, and across my body
downwards to the right, had saved my life. The
ball had passed through the roll, and striking a
button on my jacket had stopped, and as I dropped it
fell down, flattened out of all shape. I lay on the
ground for a few moments, paralyzed by the blow,
and I recollect hearing a comrade, who received a
bullet through the brain only a few moments after
wards, call out, "Ford's killed." I gathered myself
back into a sitting posture and replied, "No, I'm not.
I think I'm all right." But the pain was intense,

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 51
as every boy knows who in a boxing bout gets a lick
in "the short wind." In a few moments I was back
again on my feet, and resumed my place in line,
although suffering considerable pain and nausea.
For some time after I carried on my body a black
and blue spot the size of a dollar.
I recollect noticing the conspicuous coolness of
Maj. Thos. Huguenin, of the First Infantry. Dur
ing the hardest of the fighting he walked slowly
immediately behind the line in which I was, smoking
his pipe as calmly as if he had been at home.
Here an incident occurred that showed how,
under the most serious condition, with death and
imminent danger all around, a soldier's mind is
often diverted by the most trivial thing. It is a
strange phase of the mind which I have heard old
soldiers, who have seen much hard fighting, comment
upon. During the sharpest of the fighting, a hog
started from the swamp on my left and ran squeal
ing and terrified directly down the front of our line,
presenting quite a ludicrous spectacle, and I heard a
number of men, as he passed along the line, whoop
at him and call out, "Go it, piggy!" "Save your
bacon, piggy!" etc. But piggy had not got more
than a hundred feet past me when he turned a somer
sault, kicked a moment or two, and lay still. He
had evidently stopped a bullet.
An incident showing the same phase of mind
was told me by a member of the Fourteenth South
Carolina Volunteers, as occurring during the great

52 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
battle of Gettysburg. As Kershaw's brigade, on the
second day, was advancing to the assault of Little
Round Top, a company of the Fourteenth was
among those thrown forward as skirmishers, and
as they advanced across the field toward the Fed
erals, they came to a large patch of ripe black
berries. The men with one accord immediately
turned their attention to the ripe fruit which was
in great abundance on every side, and, stooping
down, kept picking, and eating berries, as they went
slowly forward, actually into action. And so much
was their attention distracted by the blackberries
that they were actually within 50 yards of the
enemy's advanced line before they realized their
position, when they rushed forward with a yell, and
got possession of a slightly elevated roadway, which
they held until the main line came up.
During the assault on the breastworks, Capt. S.
Porcher Smith, who was standing just behind me,
was shot through the face and fell. The litter-
bearers picked him up, and as they were carrying
him to the rear, one of them was shot and fell, and
Captain Smith rolled headlong out of the litter.
I well remember this incident.
We held our position until about midnight, when
we fell back to a place called Elevation. This
night's march was a very trying one. The road
was terribly cut up by the wagons and artillery,
and as the rains had been frequent it seemed as
if the clay mud was knee deep. We floundered

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 53
along for about six hours, and at daylight on the
17th halted and were given some rations. Most
of us had not had a morsel of food since the night
of the 15th. It happened in this way. On the night
of the 15th we cooked our cornmeal and bacon
and ate our supper, saving half for the next da}'.
At the early break of day on the 16th, as I was
warming my bacon and corn pone in a frying-pan
before eating some of it, the Federals attacked us,
and we had to fall into line instantly. So I had to
leave the frying-pan with all my food as it was on
the fire and go through that day's hardship, and
until the next day at Elevation, without any food
whatever. It had been General Hardee's intention
to give us two or three days' rest at Elevation, but
it having been ascertained that the Federal army
was pushing toward Goldsboro, Gen. Jos. E. Johns
ton, then only recently put in command of the
Confederate troops in North Carolina, ordered
General Hardee to hurry forward and intercept
Sherman near Bentonville. So about 3 o'clock on
the morning of the 19th we were aroused and
hurried on toward Bentonville, where we arrived a
little before three in the afternoon, having made
the 20 miles in rather less than 12 hours.
It was on the march this day that an amusing
incident occurred. I had not owned a pair of socks
since I left James Island a month before, and my
shoes were in such tattered condition that I could
keep uppers and soles together only by tying them

54 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
with several leather strings, but most of my toes
stuck out very conspicuously. I had read of the
importance that great generals attached to the good
condition of infantry soldiers' feet, and hence the
aphorism, "A marching man is no stronger than
his feet," and I determined to keep mine in good
condition if possible. I knew that frequent bathing
prevented blistering; therefore, every night before
going to sleep, and often on the march during the
day I would bathe my feet, so that they were never
blistered, and I kept well up with my company in
marching. On this day as we crossed a little stream,
according to my custom I stepped aside, and pulling
off my shoes soaked my feet in the running water.
General Hardee and his staff rode by at the moment.
He checked his horse and called sternly to me, "You
there, sir ! What are you doing straggling from
your command? I suppose you are one of those
men who behaved so badly at Averysboro." (A few
men had been guilty of misconduct there.) I sprang
to my feet, and saluting him said, "Excuse me,
General, but you are speaking to the wrong man,
sir. I have never misbehaved, and never straggled.
I am only bathing my feet to prevent them from
blistering. There is my company right ahead there,
sir, and I always keep up with it." My injured tone
and evident sincerity struck the old man, and he
saluted me with the words, "I beg your pardon, sir,"
and rode on. He was a courtly and knightly
soldier, and a great favorite with the men.

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 55
We reached Bentonville at about 3 o'clock p. m.,
only a short time after the battle had begun, and
as we marched hurriedly along the road in the direc
tion of the firing we passed a number of wounded
men coming to the rear; and then several oper
ating tables on both sides of the road, some with
wounded men stretched on them with the surgeons
at work, and all of them with several bloody ampu
tated legs and arms thrown alongside on the grass.
The sight was temporarily depressing, as it fore
shadowed what we had to expect. But we hurried
on, and our division halted for a few moments on
the ground from which the Federals had just been
repulsed, and there were quite a number of their
dead and wounded lying about. One of the Fed
eral wounded, a lieutenant, begged us for some
water, and I stepped from the line and gave him a
drink from my canteen. Others begged me likewise,
and in a few moments my canteen was empty. I
knew that this might result seriously to me, in case
I should need the water badly for myself, but I could
not refuse a wounded man's appeal even if he was
my enemy; and one of our men, a thrifty fellow,
who always managed to have things, produced a
little flask of whiskey, and gave a good drink to
a Federal who had his leg badly crushed. The blue-
coat raised his eyes to Heaven with, "Thank God,
Johnnie; it may come around that I may be able
to do you a kindness, and I'll never forget this
drink of liquor." We were not allowed to remain

56 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
long relieving the suffering, but soon were called to
"attention," and received orders to create it, by an
attack upon the enemy from our extreme right. At
this moment Maj. A. Burnett Rhett, of the artillery,
rode along the line and called out that news had been
received that France had recognized the Confeder
acy and would send warships to open our ports
immediately. The men cheered, few of us realizing
that the end was so near. We were blinded by our
patriotism. There was Lee with his 30,000 men
that moment surrounded by Grant with his 1 50,000.
Here was Johnston with his 14,000 trying to keep
at bay Sherman with his 70,000, with the knowledge
that Schofield was only two days off with 40,000
more. And this was about all there was to the
Confederacy ; and they talked of recognition ! Oh,
the pity of it !
As we stood in line ready to advance my next
comrade remarked, "Well, boys, one out of every
three of us will drop to-day. I wonder who it will
be?" This had been about our proportion in our
two previous infantry engagements, and it was not
far short of the same here, for out of the twenty-one
men the company carried into the fight five were
left on the field. At the word the line advanced
through a very thick black jack-oak woods full of
briars, and then double-quicked. We ran right over
the Federal picket line and captured or shot every
one of the pickets. One picket was in the act >r
eating his dinner, and as we ran upon him he

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 57
dropped his tin bucket, which, strange to say, had
rice and peas boiled together. Our lieutenant
grabbed it up, and carried it, with the spoon still
in the porridge, in his left hand in the charge. We
went through the bushes yelling and at a run until
we struck a worm rail fence on the edge of an old
field. I sprang up on the fence to get over, but
when on top could see no enemy, and so called out
to the men, a number of whom were likewise imme
diately on the fence. Just at this moment the
officers called to us to come back, as a mistake had
been made. Our division had not gone far enough
to our right. The line was again formed in the
thick bushes, and we went about two hundred yards
or so farther to the right, and during this movement
the lieutenant ate the captured porridge, and gave
me the empty tin bucket and spoon. I attached the
bucket to my waist belt, and kept it for about a
month, when in an amusing encounter with Gen.
Sam Cooper, of which I will tell farther on, it got
crushed. The spoon I have kept to the present time.
Our line was soon again halted just on the inside
edge of the dense woods, and concealed by the brush,
and I could see on the other side of the field, about
300 yards distant, twelve pieces of artillery glisten
ing in the sun, and behind them a dense mass of blue
infantry evidently expecting our attack, and ready
for us.
As we stood there for a few minutes and saw the
work cut out for us, one of our men, one of the few

58 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
who had been of age in i860, said in a plaintive
tone, "If the Lord will only see me safe through
this job, I'll register an oath never to vote for seces
sion again as long as I live."
At the word "forward" our brigade left the cover
of the woods at the double-quick, and the men
reopened with their yells.
As all veterans of the great war know, in a charge
the Confederates did not preserve their alignment,
as the Federals did. They usually went at a run,
every man more or less for himself. There was also
an inexplicable difference between the battle cries
of the Federal and Confederate soldiers. In the
assaults of the Federals the cries were regular, like
"Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah !" simply cheers, lack
ing stirring life. But the Confederate cries were
yells of an intensely nervous description ; every man
for himself yelling "Yai, Yai, Yi, Yai, Yi !" They
were simply fierce shrieks made from each man's
throat individually, and which cannot be described,
and cannot be reproduced except under the excite
ment of an assault in actual battle. I do not know
any reason for this marked difference unless it was
in the more pronounced individuality of the average
Confederate soldier.
As soon as our line charged out into the open
field the Federal artillery opened on us with grape
shot, and the infantry with their rifles. My eyes
were in a moment filled with sand dashed up by
the grape which struck around. I wiped them with

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 59
my hand, and keeping them closed as much as I
could, kept on at a run until I suddenly realized
that I was practically alone. When I looked back
I saw that the brigade, after getting about half way
across the field, had stopped and was in confusion.
In a moment it broke and went back in a clear
panic. It is needless to say I followed. Our line
was reformed in the woods, and I am glad to say of
my own company, and I think Captain Matthews's,
they both rallied at the word to a man. Every man
was in place except those who had fallen. This was
more than could be said for some of the other com
mands of the brigade, some of whose men never
rallied, but went straight on home from the field,
and were never heard of again.
Our line was again moved forward to the posi
tion from which we had first driven the Federal
pickets, and our company was sent to the edge of
the woods from which we had made the last charge,
and deployed as pickets, two men at each post.
It was now about dark, and, while the Federal
infantry had ceased firing, the wretched pieces of
artillery never let up on us and kept throwing grape
shot, and occasional shells into the woods where
they knew we were, making a terrible racket through
the tree-tops, tearing off branches, etc. At about
eight o'clock that night our lieutenant came running
along the line calling for "Ford." As soon as he
came to my post he told me that he had brought
another man to take my place and that I was re-

60 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
lieved, and at 12 o'clock must go directly to the rear
and get some rations that were expected, and cook
them for the company. I begged to be let off, but
it was no go. He said he knew I could cook, and
must go>. So I laid down where I was, with instruc
tions to my comrade to awake me at 12 o'clock, and
in an instant was sound asleep, oblivious to the
shells, etc., that the enemy kept meanly crashing
through the trees and brush, and worse still to the
groans and cries of the wounded that still lay in
the field in front where they had fallen. After dark
the occasional screams of some wounded horses
lying in our rear were particularly distressing.
Early in the afternoon Halsey's battery of flying
artillery, attached to Hampton's cavalry, had held
a gap in the line, until the arrival of our division,
and in advancing I saw probably a dozen horses
lying dead or wounded where the battery had been.
To this day I recall the piteous expressions of two
or three of these wounded horses, as they raised
their heads in their suffering and looked at us as
we passed between them. They were perfectly quiet,
but it was only after dark that in their loneliness
they uttered any sounds.
About midnight our picket line was withdrawn
and the whole division moved off in Egyptian dark
ness somewhere, I never did know exactly where,
or really care either, for at that moment I was
suffering from fever which afterwards developed
into a serious illness. At daylight in a cold rain

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 61
we halted somewhere in the woods on the edge of
another field, and threw up breastworks, as we
were threatened with an attack, which, however,
was not made. On the afternoon of the 21st we
were hurriedly ordered to hasten across to the ex
treme left of Johnston's army to support the troops
there who were severely pressed by the Federals.
I was now so sick that I was ordered to the rear,
but begged off, and a comrade offered to carry my
gun for me, so I kept up. When we reached the
place our line was formed with our company on
the extreme left resting on the edge of Mill Creek.
I was really so ill that I could not stand in line for
any length of time, and requested permission of my
lieutenant to lie down in ranks, so as to be in place
when the assault came. He ordered me to the rear,
but I succeeded in begging off again, and lay down
in line. I was asleep instantly. The next thing
I knew I was being dragged by the feet, and heard
some one say, "What are you going to do with
that dead man?" "Going to throw him in the
creek," was the reply. I opened my eyes and said,
"I am not dead, but only sick. What is the matter ?
Where are our men?" Looking around I saw that
it was early dawn, and the place was deserted except
by two of our cavalry videttes, one of whom said,
"If you have life enough left you had better ske
daddle, for the Yanks will be here in five minutes.

62 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
We are the last of the cavalry." I picked myself up,
and got across Mill Creek bridge just as the Fed
eral troops began to appear.
I believe I was the last infantryman to get across
it, and it was the only bridge across the creek.
As I went across I noticed a lot of Wheeler's cavalry
on the north bank of the creek, evidently to hold
the bridge, and I could see the Federals in the dis
tance, just on the top of the hill on the south side.
I suspected what was coming, and, as I had received
no invitation to an early morning entertainment,
kept on my way. The road on the north side of the
bridge inclined sharply to the left, so I was soon
out of the line of fire, but heard the scrimmage as
the Federals assaulted Wheeler's men and endeav
ored to capture the bridge. They were repulsed,
but not before three of their color-bearers had fallen
within fifty feet of the Confederate line.
It seemed that Johnston's army had retreated
during the night, and in the darkness my comrades
had overlooked me asleep on the ground. At about
noon I caught up with my command where it had
halted about two miles from the creek. In this
battle of Bentonville, Johnston with only 14,100
men, all told, fought Sherman with about 40,000 the
first day, and 70,000 the second. The Confederate
losses were 2,400 and the Federal 4,000.
I had become so ill now that I could hold out no
longer, and reported to the surgeon, and at eight
o'clock on the morning of the 23rd was driven in

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 63
an ambulance to a railway station and put with a
lot of sick and wounded men on a train for Greens-.
boro. I had had nothing to eat since about noon the
day before, and when we got to Raleigh I got off
and went to a near-by little cottage, where I saw
a woman at the door, and told her that I was really
very sick, and very hungry, and begged her for
something to eat. I had not a cent of money. She
told me pathetically that she had fed nearly all she
had to the soldiers, but had a potato pie, and if I
could eat that I would be welcome to it. I took it
gratefully and it was the nicest potato pie I ever saw,
before or since. We reached Greensboro at dark,
making about 90 miles run in ten hours, very good
for the speed of railway trains at that time. At
Greensboro the court-house was used as the hospi
tal, all the benches, desks, etc., being removed. We
had no mattresses nor bedding of any kind, and
about 200 of us were laid off in rows on the floor,
with only our own blankets that we brought with
us. After looking over the accommodations I se
lected the platform inside of the rail, where the
judge's desk used to be, for my place, and went out
into the street and begged an armful of hay from
a wagon, and with two bricks for a pillow made
my bed. Here I lay for about three weeks with
fever, and at times really very ill. Three times a
day the ladies of the town came and brought us
food, and were devoted in their attentions. I got to
be very weak, and on April 14th I told the surgeon

64 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
that I was certainly getting worse, and believed I
would die if I stayed where I was. His cold reply
was, "I believe you will." I then asked to be allowed
to go home. He said, "You will die before you have
been out of the hospital twenty-four hours," to
which I replied, "It is all the same with me. I would
as lieve die in the bushes as here. Only let me make
the attempt." Thereupon he gave me my furlough,
and at daylight the next morning I put my blanket
around me and walked right out into a drizzly rain.
The railroad was torn up between Greensboro and
Salisbury, so I walked along the track, and the
next day reached High Point, and at that place met
one of my comrades, who< was in the hospital there.
He smuggled me in and gave me a night's lodging
under his blanket, and shared his scanty supper with
me. The next day I struck out again, and after
three or four more days walking reached Salisbury,
about thirty miles farther, where I again found
another comrade in the hospital at that place. With
the exception of the night I had spent at High Point,
it was my habit, when night overtook me, to step
aside into the bushes and sleep until morning. What
food I got was only what I begged at the farm
houses on the way.
At the Yadkin River I found that the bridge had
not been burned. It seems that the Federal General
Stoneman had been raiding that section of country
and had attempted to burn this bridge, but had been
driven off by. a Confederate force under General

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 65
Pettus, and some cavalry. Just as I approached it,
President Jefferson Davis, with quite a party, came
riding by. He was sitting gracefully erect on his
horse, and courteously returned our salutes. This
was the one occasion on which I saw the President.
We were quite a large number of men along the
roadside, and one of the President's party, a cap
tain, rode up to my group and asked if we were
willing to go on across the Mississippi and continue
the war there? Many of us, I among them, volun
teered to go, but we heard nothing more of it. It
seems that this really was Mr. Davis's plan, and he
was so much set on it, that as late as April 25 he
suggested to General Johnston that instead of sur
rendering to General Sherman, he should disband
his infantry, with instructions to them to ren
dezvous at some appointed place across the Missis
sippi, and to bring off his cavalry and all his horses
and light pieces of artillery. As is well known,
General Johnston fully realized the absolute hope
lessness of the struggle and deliberately disobeyed
his instructions, and surrendered to General Sher
man the next day. When one looks back upon the
condition of things then as they must have been
known to the highest Confederate authorities, it
seems almost incredible that such an impracticable
idea as continuing the war across the Mississippi
could have been entertained for a moment.
At Salisbury a comrade, who had been also for
three years my messmate and chum, joined me, and
we traveled from there as far as Chester, S. C,

66 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
where our ways parted. Strange to say, it seemed
to me that I began to improve from the moment
I left the hospital. I had a strong fever on me, but
was bent on getting home. At Salisbury an amus
ing event occurred. This was about April 19. Lee's
army had been surrendered ten days before, and
the first lot of his men, probably 300 or so, now
came along, and learning that there was a Confed
erate storehouse here with supplies of food and
clothing, determined to help themselves. I joined
the crowd to get my share. The warehouse was
guarded by about a dozen boys of the home guard,
who protested violently; but they were just swept
one side, and the door was broken open, and every
man helped himself to what he wanted or needed.
I got a handful of Confederate money, a pair of
shoes, some flour and bacon, a pair of socks, and
a small roll of jeans. This roll of cloth I carried
clear home across my shoulders, and when I reached
Aiken, in May, exchanged it with the baker for one
hundred bread tickets, which provided our family
with bread for the rest of the summer.
The railway for a short distance from Salisbury
was intact, and here we discovered an engine and
two box-cars waiting for President Davis and the
Confederate Cabinet. The crowd of soldiers deter
mined to seize this train, and we told the engineer
that he must either carry us as far as he could, and
then come back for the President, or we would put
him off and take the train ourselves. He yielded to
force, and carried us about 20 miles. We then got

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 67
off, and he went back. This led to an amusing
experience a couple of days later. There was another
section of torn-up track, and then another place
where another engine and one box-car were in wait
ing again for the President and Cabinet. The crowd
had dwindled down very much now, so compara
tively only a few of us were on hand. These, I
among them, at once clambered up on top of the car,
and sat there. Presently I saw Gen. Sam Cooper
approaching with a squad of about a dozen boys,
home guards as they were called. He halted them
within a dozen paces of the car, and then gave the
orders, "ready, aim," and we had a dozen old mus
kets pointed at us. Then shaking his finger at us
he said, "You scoundrels, you are the men who stole
that train day before yesterday. If you do not drop
off that car I'll blow you to hell." We dropped. In
jumping down, my tin bucket, captured at Benton
ville, was crushed against the side of the car. The
spoon was in my haversack, and I have it still —
1904. I thought to myself, however, "Old cock,
I'll get even with you. I have a scheme you don't
know about." Going off a few steps I said to my
chum, "Just let's wait here until the Cabinet arrives.
I bet that we two at least will get back on that car."
We lounged around for an hour or two, and pres
ently the wagons appeared with the Cabinet. I knew
that Mrs. Geo. A. Trenholm, the wife of the Con
federate Secretary of the Treasury, was along, and
being a Charlestonian, who knew my family, I felt
sure that when I made myself known she would

68 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
help me. True enough, as soon as I made myself
known to her she spoke to General Cooper, and four
of us were given permission to ride on top of the
car, one at each corner, with our legs dangling over,
for the top of the car in the middle was smashed in.
Mrs. Trenholm also kindly gave me a half loaf of
bread and the half of a chicken.
We jolted along in this way over the good section
of the road, until we came to the next break, when
we got off, and after tendering our thanks plodded
along on foot again.
Gen. Sam'l S. Cooper was Adjutant-General of
the Confederate Army, and the senior in rank of
Gen. Robert E. Lee, and was a Pennsylvanian. He
ranked Lee in the Confederate service; and in the
Federal Army before the war he also ranked the
great Confederate commander, he having been
Adjutant-General of the United States Army.
At Chester I parted with my companions, as our
routes diverged. I walked from that town to New
berry, where I met one of my comrades, whose fam
ily lived there. He took me to his house, and I
stayed there two days. Upon my departure he saw
that my haversack was well filled with provisions.
The railway was intact from Newberry to* Abbe
ville, so I got a lift that far.
While making my way through the country I was
always treated with much hospitality by all the
people along my route. There was only one excep
tion. This was in Chester County, when one day,
with my haversack empty, and hunger calling impa-

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 69
tiently, I stopped at a farm-house and asked for
some food, offering to pay for it. The respectable-
looking man whom I addressed asked me what kind
of money I had. I said, "Only Confederate money."
He replied, "I won't take anything except gold or
silver and have no food to give away," and shut
the door in my face. I inquired of some negroes,
as I walked off, and was told he was a very well-
to-do man, and a preacher !
In striking contrast was the treatment by a poor
farmer's wife the same day. I stopped at a small
farm-house by the roadside, and in response to my
call a woman opened the house door, and looking
out cautiously asked who I was. I replied, "I am a
Confederate soldier trying to get home. I am sick,
and want something to eat." She called out, "You
got smallpox?" "No," I said. Again she asked,
"You got the measles?" "No, I've got only fever,
and only want to rest ; and if you have anything to
spare, something to eat." She then told me to come
into the house, and showing me into the back porch,
spread a comfort on the floor with a pillow, and said,
"My husband got back from the army just yester
day, and went to town this morning. I am sorry,
but there's not a scrap of meat in the house, only
some veal which he killed this morning. Now you
just lie down and take a rest while I cook you some
veal, and corn bread." I laid down, and was soon
asleep. After a while the good woman aroused me,
and led the way to the table, where she had prepared
some veal chops and corn bread for me, which I ate

70 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
with relish. She refused to receive any pay, as she
said she "could not receive pay from a soldier."
So giving her my warm thanks I resumed my route
toward Newberry.
At Abbeville I went into a drug store and invested
$30 in a toothbrush.
I had chosen this route to avoid the section devas
tated by Sherman. From Abbeville my route lay
through Washington and Augusta, Ga., to Aiken,
where my family were, and which I reached early
in May. When passing through Augusta I went to
the quartermaster's department and drew my pay,
amounting to $156. This was the first pay I had
received for a year, and of course it was absolutely
worthless, but upon my arrival at Aiken I found a
man who accepted $50 of it for a bottle of very
crude corn whiskey. The remainder of this pay is
still in my desk.
On April 26, 1865, General Johnston's army was
surrendered to General Sherman near Durham Sta
tion, N. C, thus putting an end to the war within
the limits of their respective commands. At that
time General Johnston had 26,000 men on his roll,
as many of the remnants of the Army of the Tennes
see and others from Wilmington had joined his
command. Of these, 2,000 had no arms of any kind.
General Sherman had 110,000 men effective. John
ston's army had consumed their last rations when
it was surrendered, and General Sherman, when
informed of its condition, ordered 250,000 rations
immediately distributed, or about ten days' rations

LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 71
to each Confederate soldier. General Johnston in
his "Narrative" says that if this had not been done
great suffering would have ensued.
The great war was at an end, and the following
figures show the fearful odds we fought against.
During the four years the United States put about
3,000,000 men in the field, of whom 720,000 were
foreigners. They lost in killed, in battle, and from
disease, 366,000, or about 12 per cent.
The Confederate States had only about 625,000
men, all told, from first to last. Of these there were
killed in battle, and died from disease, 349,000, or
about 56 per cent.
At the close the United States had 1,050,000
men in active service, and the Confederate States
139,000. We were fighting odds of over 7 to 1.
The day after my arrival at home the first Federal
troops arrived from Charleston to garrison the town
of Aiken. They were a company of negroes, com
manded by a German captain, who spoke very broken
English. I soon learned that it was a part of the
force that had assaulted us on James Island and
from the officers I heard their side of the affair.
This was the beginning of that era of reconstruction
which, for eleven years, was a course of negro domi
nation, corruption, robbery, and outrages; and
which steadily increased in intensity until in 1876
it was overthrown by the general uprising of the
white people. But this is another subject.

SOME EXPERIENCES AND SKETCHES
OF SOUTHERN LIFE

BY MARION JOHNSTONE FORD

KENT—A WAR-TIME NEGRO
"An African Morgan — a citizen whose name we
shall not mention, although many readers know and
will recognize the case — was surprised some days
ago by the entrance of a good servant, who was
supposed to be, if living at all, in Yankee hands at
Knoxville. This servant went cheerfully, of course,
or he would not have been sent, to wait on Young
Massa,' who is under Brigadier-General Jenkins, in
Longstreet's corps.
"In the retreat from Knoxville, he was accidentally
wounded, and necessarily left behind.
"When taken to Knoxville, he was questioned by
General Foster, well known for his connection as
engineer with Fort Sumter, which has done more
than he desired or expected for the defense of
Charleston. "Being asked his master's name, the man replied,
when General Foster condescendingly said: 'Oh,
yes ; I knew him when I was at Sumter. You know
that you are now free and have no master.' We

^y\(fis««^ JrlvytAlrr^, Opr cy/4yy^~x

KENT — A WAR-TIME NEGRO 73
need not report the further conversation, or the con
duct of the servant. Suffice it to say he did not —
like some of our gossiping friends in uniform — talk
to everybody about his intention, but at the first
promising opportunity he took French leave of
Yankee friends and freedom in Knoxville, and not
knowing then where to find or reach his 'Young
Master,' he struck, according to his best information,
for the 'Old Master' and the 'home place.'
"He was compelled to walk over one hundred and
fifty miles, and in great part over the route travelled
lately by General Morgan, and succeeded in reaching
a railroad, which gave him a lift toward this city.
"We would have more such cases if opportunities
could be found."
— Charleston, S. C, Courier, January 19, 1863.
This Kent was not of blood royal, as his name
might indicate; he came of a dusky African brood,
but his loyalty and faithfulness would have_done
credit to any race. How he got his name I do not
know, but it was a relief to the ear after those his
mother had chosen for his brothers — "Cully" and
"Hackless." Whether the latter was intended for
Hercules, neither Martha, their mother, nor any one
else knew.
Kent was the flower of his flock as regarded his
appearance, being tall and slender, with shiny black
skin and unusually high features for a negro. He
seemed to justify his mother's boast that she was

74 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"no low-blooded negro, but was of a good family in
Africa." And she really had some foundation for
this unusual pride among her race, for our grand
mother, who died at a great age many years ago, was
fond of telling among the incidents of her childhood,
that once when a shipload of Africans was brought
to her native city for sale, her husband went to pur
chase some for his plantation, and among several he
brought back "Katura," Martha's ancestress. After
the usual process of shutting them up until they could
be induced to wear clothes, she, with the others, was
sent up to the plantation. When they arrived there
and began to mingle with the other negroes, one of
those that had been bought some time before, at the
sight of "Katura," rushed forward and prostrated
herself at her feet with every mark of affection and
respect. She could speak English and explained to
the astonished onlookers that this was a princess in
her country, who had been sold by her uncle to
the slave-traders. It seemed a barbaric romance.
Katura, however, took kindly to civilization, and
soon settled herself in her new position with no
undue repining. In time she was comforted by a
partner, and brought into the world numerous
progeny, who were noted for their integrity and
fidelity unto the fifth generation, which brings us to
that of Kent.
When the great war broke out, and all the men and
youths were joining the army, our hearts were heavy,
and we felt full of sad forebodings at Otranto, our

KENT  A WAR-TIME NEGRO 75
country home, where parting and sorrow had never
come. We were a large band of girls, with one
young brother, the idol of our hearts, and the apple
of our parents' eyes. Like everybody in those days,
we were very patriotic, but when it dawned upon us
that Harry must shoulder his rifle and go to Virginia
we felt that love of country cost us dear. Harry
completed his sixteenth year the April after the
secession of South Carolina, and as there was no
doubt that his college days were over, as he would
not study, we were not surprised when the day after
his birthday, he galloped up the avenue, dashed into
the room where we were sitting, upsetting a chair,
and exclaimed :
"How soon can you get me ready, girls ? I joined
the Hampton Legion this morning, and we are off to
Virginia, — Hurrah !"
"Hush, Harry !" exclaimed our eldest sister ; "pick
up that chair; don't you see mother is faint?"
"No, it is past," murmured our mother, trying to
smile, as we all turned to her. "God bless and keep
you, my boy. I expected you to enlist; you could
not do otherwise, and now," stifling a sigh, "I must
think of your outfit, and you must take a servant too.
I wonder which will be best."
"A private with a servant seems an anomaly,"
laughingly said Harry. "But I believe several of the
boys have men, and anything to ease your mind,
mother dear."

76 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Our minds must learn to do without ease, as well
as our bodies, I fear, in the days that lie before us,"
she answered, stroking his curly head as he knelt by
her chair; "but we must act, and not think now."
The days that followed were busy ones. The
difficulty was not what was needed, but what could
be carried. It was an exciting novelty to pack a
knapsack, and its small capacity was a constant check
to our zeal. Harry's constant reminder, "I will
have to march with that on my back, nobody knows
how far," brought a pang to our hearts. It was
decided that he should take a "body-servant" — the
old-fashioned Southern rendering of the French term
"valet." After much deliberation and, I fear, heart
burning among the servants, for in this, as in other
instances, the post of danger was also that of honor,
Kent was selected, much to his own and his mother's
gratification. The day appointed for the company to which
Harry belonged to join the Legion in Virginia came
all too soon. He shouldered his knapsack, and tore
himself from us, followed by his colored attendant,
with whom we all shook hands and whom we urged
to "take care of Mas' Harry."
"Yes, Missus," he responded, looking preter-
naturally solemn.
Of course Harry left a great gap behind him, but
we tried to excel each other in efforts at cheerfulness,
and bright prognostications as to his future career as
a soldier. We succeeded only tolerably in these

KENT — A WAR-TIME NEGRO 77
laudable efforts, when Martha waddled in — she was
our cook, and a decided character in her way. I
believe, next to our mother, she thought herself of
first importance among the feminine part of the
household. She gave a keen glance at our mother,
whom she idolized.
"Well, Missus," she said, dropping a little curtsy,
"I come to see how you gettin' on. You all looks
pretty blue, but I 'clare to gracious there's no
'casion to fret. Nuttin' gwine to hu't Mas' Harry J
w'en Kent gone to tak' care ov him. Missus, you
dunno how smart dat boy is ; an' I jus' tell him, 'Mas'/
Harry tinks he's a man and a soger, but you know'
he ain't nuttin' but a baby, an' a ma-baby at dat.'
An' I jus' tell him he need not to come home if he
let anyt'ing hu't Mas' Harry. So don't you fret,
Missus." "But how could Kent prevent Harry's being
wounded or hurt, Martha ?" I asked.
"Now, Miss Sallie, don't you go for to talk non
sense," responded the old woman. "An' your ma
always says w'ere dere is a will dere is a way. Well,
dat's what I tells Kent, an' I tells Affy, de gal he's
courtin', it's no use for she to fret, fur 'less Kent
brings Mas' Harry back safe, dere won't be no
weddin' fur him."
"Oh," I said, "he is courting, is he? That is why
he looked so serious when he left."
"It looks so, Missy. He tell me to look sharp at
her, an' see if she notice anybody while he is gone.

78 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
An' I will — an' let her know, too, if she do," she
muttered as she left the room.
Harry saw much active service, was in many
battles, and fortunately escaped with only one
wound. He told us in his letters of Kent's faithful
following, and attendance on long marches, and after
a battle) he always found him looking anxiously
for him, with something to eat as nice as he could get.
Indeed, he was a wonderful provider, but Harry was
by no means sure that Kent could have made good
his claim to many of the eatables he set before him,
for his conscience was an elastic one as to the
rights of property in food. So long as he got what
he wanted for Harry, he stopped neither to buy, beg
nor borrow, but helped himself. His kindness of
heart, ready wit, and readiness to lend a helping hand
to any one in need made him a general favorite in
the company, where he was noted for the care he
took of his young master.
The years of the war sped on, and brought
privations and sorrows which each year seemed to
intensify. Our home was no longer the bright place
it used to be, for we had lost many friends, and self-
denial was the order of the day. We were very busy,
too, and that helped to keep us cheerful.
There were new accomplishments to acquire. We
learned, and taught our maids, to card and spin the
home-grown wool, and when that did not suffice for
the extraordinary demand we had supernumerary
wool mattresses ripped up; the ticking was consid-

KENT  A WAR-TIME NEGRO 79
ered to make handsome frocks for the servants, and
the wool when dyed and woven made excellent
homespun suits for ourselves, that were not to be
despised for durability and warmth. There was
quite a rivalry as to who could make the prettiest
dyes for our dresses, but after a time black was most
worn. Then we had our old light kid gloves to ink
over carefully, so that we might not go barehanded
to church. We thought those gloves a great success
when we first dyed them, but when we came to wear
them, the ink never seemed to dry, and would soak
through, and dye our hands most uncomfortably.
Our greatest achievement after all, I think, was the
piles of socks we knitted by the lightwood blaze at
night. Our old-fashioned butler always placed a
candle — a tallow one, or still worse, a home-made
myrtle wax one — upon the table, but we considered
it an extravagance to light it unless there was some
thing urgent to read. I am surprised now that we
did not mind the heat of the blaze more in summer,
but I do not remember our thinking of it. There
was one great spasm of patriotism when every
worsted curtain in the house was cut into soldiers'
shirts. Some of these were of brilliant colors and
patterns, and I cannot but think might have served
as targets for bullets. We even undressed the piano
and converted its cover into a blanket for a soldier.
We were chagrined afterwards to hear from some
of our friends who had done the same thing, that
the latest advice from the field was that the soldiers

80 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
found the garments, so improvised, very unsatis
factory, and begged the ladies not to sacrifice their
belongings so recklessly.
There were no plum puddings or mince pies in
those days, according to the accepted recipes, but we
made Confederate fruit cake with dried peaches and
apples instead of raisins and currants, with sorghum
for sugar ; and potato pones and puddings were very
frequent, and both dishes had the merit of a little
going a long way, especially after the supply of
ginger gave out.
We never had any use for the potato, peas, ground
nut, or any sort of mock coffee, but we drank orange
leaf, or sage tea in preference to any other home
made beverage. We managed to keep a little store
of genuine tea for medicine, and when our mother
pronounced any of us ill enough to need a little
coddling, what a treat it was ! The invalid never
would consent to partake, unless it was a family tea
party. What enjoyment those occasions gave!
In the latter part of '63 we were distressed to hear
from Harry that he was ill in the hospital in
Tennessee. He wrote : "I think we are falling back.
Kent is ill with pneumonia, and the worst of it is
that if we fall back I have no means of transportation
for him ; it will be hard to have to leave him."
Dire was the distress that letter brought us. We
waited anxiously for further news. Harry brought

KENT — A WAR-TIME NEGRO 81
it himself. He had been ill, and was sent home on
furlough. He looked worn, and very unlike the
bright boy who had left us.
"What of Kent?" we asked.
"I had to leave him," he said. "I could not help
it. We were falling back rapidly. Many were left
in the hospitals, and are now prisoners. It was only
through my captain being such a friend of father's,
and stirring himself to get me a place in an ambu
lance, that I was not left. I dragged myself to see
the good fellow, although I could scarcely walk. He
was very sick, and distressed to part with me. I
told him the enemy would be in town that night, and
he would be free. He said, 'Mas' Harry, that is i
nothing to me; if you don't see me home, you
will know I am dead. Tell Missus, and Ma, and
Affy so.' "
Martha was given the message, but our conscien
tious mother added : "But, Martha, if you do not see
him you need not be sure he is not living; but you
must not count too much on seeing him, for if he
gets well he will doubtless be tempted to stay, and
try a new experience."
The old woman twirled the corners of her apron,
as she said sadly: "Missus, it is five generations
since my fam'ly come from Africa, and Mausser's
from France; we's been togedder since dat time, an'
been fait'ful togedder; for once w'en times was hard
wid Mausser, he mout hab sold us, but he didn't.
He kep' us all togedder, an' you tink Kent such a

82 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
fool as not to know dat, an' be happy 'mong
strangers? He got to work w'erebber he is, an'
nobody gwine to consider him like you all. No,
ma'am, if he alive I'm lookin' for him, w'atever it
seems like to you, ma'am." And she bobbed her
curtsy and walked off, leaving her mistress feeling
quite small.
Harry remained with us for some weeks. It was
pleasant to see his enjoyment of home fare, even in
its pruned condition. Everything seemed luxurious
after the camp life; but he did not linger after he
was well enough to return to the army. There still
was no news of Kent. Harry refused to take
another servant in his place, although urged to do
so. "No," he said, "I could not find any one to fill
Kent's place; and it is a demoralizing life. I do
not know if even he could stand the restraints of
civilization again."
Several months passed after Harry's departure,
and we had given up any idea we might have had
of hearing any more of Kent. Martha mourned
him as dead, and induced her preacher to preach his
funeral, she and Affy attending as chief mourners.
Affy in a black cotton dress of Martha's which
swallowed her up, and Martha with her very black
face muffled in a square of black alpaca, from which,
as she peered out, her teeth and eyeballs looked
dazzlingly white.
One freezing night in December, as we were trying
to summon resolution to leave the warm chimney

KENT — A WAR-TIME NEGRO 83
corner and go to bed, we were startled by a rap at
the door. Everything was startling in those days.
Our father opened it, and the light fell on a tall
figure clad in a United States uniform, surmounted
by Kent's smiling countenance.
"Why, where do you come from?" we exclaimed.
"Well, I tole Mas' Harry if de Lord spare my life
I'd come home, an' here I is, sir, and Missus, an'
mighty proud," he added, as my mother extended
her hand to him, and said :
"You are a faithful fellow. Your mother knew
you better than I did."
We soon dismissed our returned wanderer to his
rest. Martha's and Affy's delight may be imagined,
and the speed with which they doffed their mourning
was marvelous. The next morning we were anxious
to have Kent's adventures, which he was pleased to
narrate. His comfortable attire looked very spick
and span beside the faded garments of those around,
and his excellent shoes were a source of undisguised
envy to his fellow-servants.
"Well, Miss Sallie," he said, when I remarked on
his appearance, "I thought I'd better get myself the
best I could while I was w'ere dey was plenty, as I
could give ole Maussa one nigger less to clothe. You
see, ma'am, w'en Mas' Harry an' our people lef,' I felt
pretty bad. That night, sure 'nuf, as Mas' Harry tole
me, the Yankees came booming into town, an' it
wasn't long befo' all our mens, who was in the hospit
able, was took prisoners ; but they seemed very kind to

84 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
them. Wile they was sick they give them everything.
It was a cur'ous t'ing, w'en General Foster come
through w'ere I was, he noticed me, and asked me
w'at I was doin' there, an' I tole him how I had been
wid my young Maussa, an' w'en I tole him w'ere I
come from an' Mas' Harry's name, 'Oh,' say he, 'I
know his father well. I was stationed at Fort
Moultrie befo' de war, an' I have eaten many a good
dinner at the old Colonel's.' I tole him, 'Yes, sir,
Maussa had the bes' of everything, an' my ma was
a splendid cook.' So then he say: 'If you come
from them you knows your business, an' w'en you
are well, I will take you into my service. You is
free now, you know.' So they kep' me in the
hospitable, an' give me nice things to make me well,
an' w'en the hospitable discharged me, de General
took me an' was rale kind. I had good greenback
wages and plenty of everything, an' not much to do,
an' rale coffee, as much as I wanted, too ; but some
how I couldn't diskiver to be settled. I had been in
de Soudern army so long, w'en they talked of beatin'
it, it made me oneasy, an' w'en I studied on Mas'
Harry back in de army wid nobody — for I know he
wouldn't take nobody in my place — an' wid not
'nuf of even corn bread an' bacon, widout me to
perwide," he added, with a grin, "I jest kep' studyin',
but I never said nuttin', an' every day dey tole me
how lucky I was to be free. I jes' made up my
mind, an' I got the General to let me draw all de clo's
I could, an' a overcoat an' shoes an' blankets on my

KENT  A WAR-TIME NEGRO 85
wages, an' den I ask him for a month's wages in
advance, an' he seem a little surprised, but he was
very kind, an' he give it to me ; so w'en I got every
thing I could, one night I waited on the General fust
rate, w'en he was goin' to bed, an' fixed everything
very nice, an' he said I was a rale good servant an' a
treasure of a boy; but I jest took my things an'
watched my chance, an' jest slipped off in the dark,
an' dodged about until I got out of their lines an'
into our'n. I had to walk a hundred miles befo' I
got to our regiment. An', Mis', they jest gave me
three cheers w'en I tole them how I come back; an'
I took de liberty to bring a bottle of whiskey, an' I
treated Mas' Harry's ole mess. Dey tole me he had
jine another regiment. I had to walk a good piece
more to de cyars ; but one of our officers give me a
letter to the conductors on de cyars, so I jest come
through without payin' a cent. An' mighty glad I is
to git home," he added, drawing a long sigh of
relief. "But did you not feel bad at robbing the kind offi
cer who employed you ?" I asked.
"Well, Missy," he answered, "seems like Mas'
Harry has the bes' right to me, an' he was robbin'
Mas' Harry ob me." And, turning to our mother,
he said : "Please, ma'am, I would like a week at home
to marry Affy, an' den can't I find Mas' Harry?"
It is needless to add that Kent's wedding was as
festive as it could be made. It was a holiday on the
plantation, and dancing was kept up to the sound of

86 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
the rhythmic stick beating, from morning until
night. The bride was proud, happy and dusky in
white muslin ; the groom a marvel in his attire, and
with all the airs of a traveled man.
After the surrender Kent followed his young
master home, and he and Affy settled on a pretty
part of the plantation, declaring that they would live
"faithful togedder" for the remainder of their lives.

ROSE BLANKETS
In the busy rush of to-day it is sometimes a relax
ation to pause for a moment and let memory carry
us back, far back, to the peaceful, uneventful days
before the Civil War. Life seemed to go slower then.
We had no cables to tell us, and often harrow us,
each morning with the events all over the world of
the preceding day. And (inestimable boon)
our only ideas of war were time-mellowed
Revolutionary anecdotes. There was in these
days no more beautiful place in all the luxuri
ant low country contiguous to Charleston than
Hickory Hill. The plantation consisted of rice fields
which bordered Goose Creek on both sides. The
massive brick dwelling, built in Colonial days by the
pioneer of the family which still dwelt there, stood
beyond the rice fields in view of the creek ; venerable
moss-crowned live-oaks stood sentinels around. The
approach was through an avenue of similar trees,
whose branches formed a beautiful arch over the
luxuriant sward beneath. These trees were the
admiration and pride of the countryside.

88 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
Years had only added beauty to the rugged old
house, for ivy and climbing rose vines had dressed
its walls and framed many of its windows. In the
springtime it was a veritable bower. At the time of
which I write it was a "maidens' bower." From my
earliest recollections three unmarried sisters, Miss
Martha, Miss Joanna and Miss Mary, composed the
family. My parents lived on an adjoining planta
tion, and although our dwelling houses were some
distance apart, there was a short cut along the rice
field banks, and a happy child was I when any pretext
afforded an excuse for a visit to the ladies. Their
individuality had a great charm even to my childish
mind. When I first remember them they must have
all been past their sixtieth birthdays, and were
counted ladies of the old school. Miss Martha was
the eldest. She took life very seriously, was very
tall and thin, was the housekeeper and head, besides
being considered "the clever woman of the family."
She could be very tragic on the smallest provocation.
Her drop of good Scotch blood made her hold her
head very high, and also made her a rigid Presby
terian. When she was not hemming a pocket hand
kerchief she usually had one of Scott's novels in her
hands. Miss Joanna, the second sister, who was as
genial as her sister was severe, used to say she "did
not know what Martha would have done if Scott
had never written; he had really diversified her life
by his novels."

ROSE BLANKETS »y
Miss Joanna had the cheeriest old face imaginable,
bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, with high cheek bones,
her gray hair waved becomingly, and she always
wore a lavender ribbon in her cap. She was the
social one of the sisters ; that is, she performed the
social duties. Miss Mary, the youngest, was at
sixty the spoiled darling, having been considered
the best looking, and delicate in her youth. All the
airs of a beauty, and the privileges of an invalid still
clung to her. Indeed, her very white skin and black
eyes were very impressive. Her sisters always gave
her the tenderest consideration and never failed to
be affected by her gentle melancholy and pathetic
sighs. They were all much given to charity, but
Miss Mary was more lavish than wise. Whole
families of beggars, not only preyed upon her, but
tyrannized. There was a tradition that Miss Mary
had been rescued in her youth from a runaway
carriage by a lover who was anxious to marry her ;
she had inclined to him, but had been deterred by
the fear of parting from Miss Joanna, who usually
directed her affairs, and sometimes made up her
mind for her.
The sisters were accounted quite wealthy. They
owned a handsome residence in the neighboring city
of Charleston, where they betook themselves when
fear of country fever drove them from their beloved
country home. The yearly exodus was a great trial
to Miss Martha, who was supposed to manage the
plantation. The neighbors said the negro foreman,

90 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
Boston, managed the place and the ladies also.
They would never employ a white overseer, as they
said "a hireling could not make allowance for the
negroes as they did." Indeed, their negroes were
a terrible care to them; they had large retinues of
house servants, both in the city and country, both
having a sinecure during their absence.
Miss Martha frequently complained that she was
"hard worked in finding something for the servants
to do." The young ones grew up so rapidly, and to
put certain families to field work was not to be
contemplated. That the ladies did not suffer more from their
reckless management was providential. They had
the affection of all their servants, but the women
were lazy and the men great inebriates. Their idol,
and coachman, Billy, was a terrible case. Their
lives were often in peril when he was on the box.
After some hair-breadth escape Billy would be
summoned before the trio and Miss Martha would
say tragically, "Billy, you will be the death of us."
"Fore de Laud, Missis, I wouldn't hurt a hair of yore
heads," would be his rejoinder. That he did not
was not his fault, but his good fortune, for on one
occasion, having been sent to meet Miss Martha and
Miss Mary at one of the wharves, he was so far gone
that he drove carriage and pair over them, knocking
them down as they approached to get into the
carriage. Miraculously they escaped with only
bruises. Their black silk dresses were kept as

ROSE BLANKETS 91
curiosities, as the iron shod hoofs of the horses had
left their impress in several places. On another
occasion, having met them at the theater with the
carriage, he drove them several miles up the road
toward their country home at n o'clock at night
before they could induce him to turn. These
episodes, combined with the very apparent fact that
their friends had ceased to borrow their carriage,
which they enjoyed lending as much as using, sealed
Billy's fate. To soften his downfall, they told him
he could give Cuffie, his successor on the box, some
"hints on driving," and they would be glad to fill his
molasses jug when it was empty, and if he must
drink, to take molasses and water. He could employ
himself by sweeping the yard. Billy never said
what he drank, but died shortly after of delirium
tremens. Joe and Romeo, the butler and his assistant, were
quite as harassing. Romeo's besetting sin was
indolence. He had been known to shed tears at the
prospect of one of the little tea parties in which the
old ladies delighted. On these occasions their guests
were their contemporaries, "the girls," oif whom
there were a great many in maiden state in the quiet
old city. The handsome rooms were always lit by
candles in tall silver candlesticks. Miss Martha
would never consent to the introduction of gas,
which the more progressive Miss Joanna advocated.

92 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"No," decided Miss Martha, "candles are much
more lady-like." What would she have thought of
electric lights ?
On these occasions Joe handed a waiter with tea,
Romeo followed with delicate cakes, and then bread
and butter, while a boy followed in the rear with a
tray "to catch the cups" as they were emptied. Ice
cream followed at "last bell ring," ten in summer
and nine in winter, when the party broke up.
Any more substantial refreshment would have been
deemed "very unrefined" by the whole assembly.
There was a rumor that on one of these occasions
both Joe and Romeo had been very unsteady as they
handed their waiters. Dire was their mistresses'
mortification. Miss Martha always seemed to feel
responsible when her servants misbehaved. She
would exclaim, "A single woman has great need of
strength of mind." Miss Mary's unfailing rejoinder
would be, "Thank God, you have it, sister." One
evening Joe brought especial obloquy upon himself.
He must have shared Billy's molasses jug, for he
had not drawn the tea as directed.
Miss Martha, in consideration for some of "the
girls" who were growing feeble, always accompanied
Joe on his rounds. As he paused before a guest she
would hold a lump suspended in the sugar tongs as
she would say, "Green tea and black; dear, which
will you have ?" On this occasion Joe took advan
tage of her deafness to mumble, "Both made in de

ROSE BLANKETS 93
same pot." The guests were quite diverted, but did
not enlighten Miss Martha as to Joe's confession,
and their progress continued until they reached Miss
Mary. When she overheard Joe's assertion, she
looked at him with mild indignation, but only said,
"Sister, you had better sit down. I will explain
later my asking you to> do so." Miss Mary's sug
gestion of any course of action to Miss Martha
seemed to call for explanation.
The next morning, when she told of the duet she
had interrupted, Joe was summoned. Miss Martha
told him he had brought disgrace upon them and
would further bring their gray hairs in sorrow to
the grave. He of course expressed great penitence,
and was vociferous in promises of amendment. His
mistresses tried to feel faith. Miss Mary, however,
had to take a great deal of orange-leaf tea before her
nerves recovered the shock. Kindly Miss Joanna
said privately, she had known nothing of what was
occurring, but she was glad the girls had something
to amuse them; she had thought them very merry,
and though Joe had failed in his demeanor he had
shown a wonderful regard for truth. Had the
ladies and many of their generation lived to see
emancipation they would have parted with many
"an old man of the sea."
One April morning I set out *o take a bunch of
May roses over the rice field banks to Hickory Hill.
These roses were especial favorites with the sisters,
and I was pleased to have the earliest blossoms to

94 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
carry. Miss Joanna kept a rose jar. Miss Martha
was famous for the rose water she distilled. I only
expected to see Miss Martha, for I knew Miss Mary
had been drooping, and Miss Joanna had taken her
to visit a friend, who, although long past her youth,
had recently married a Northern gentleman, with
whom she lived on her beautiful plantation near the
city. Miss Joanna and her sister had left only the day
before, so I was surprised to see the carriage at the
door and Cilia, the maid, removing their shawls and
trappings. "Why, Cilia!" I exclaimed, "are the
ladies back already?" "Yes, missy," she replied,
grinning and dropping a curtsy, "Miss Joanna an'
Miss May, an' Miss Burton had a kine uv upsettin',
an' so we come home." Wondering what was amiss,
I hastened in. I paused as I entered the sitting-
room, for I saw the ladies were much perturbed
(small excitements were very usual with them, but
their demeanor betokened something serious) ; Miss
Martha sat very erect, with her most judicial aspect,
the needle with which she was sewing suspended.
"Come in, child," she said as she saw me; "if my
sisters make fools of themselves you may as well
know it as the rest of the world."
Miss Mary and Miss Joanna sat with their bonnets
on. Miss Mary with the air of a culprit, Miss
Joanna decidedly ruffled, and her cheeks redder than
usual. She said : "Don't jump too quickly to con
clusions, sister; it does seem queer for us to return

ROSE BLANKETS 95
so hastily, but when I tell you about it quietly, you
will, I am sure, see that we were not entirely to
blame. You know Caroline's husband is rather
abrupt in his manner."
"He has no Southern suavity," interrupted Miss
Mary. "The evening we got there I was feeling rather
dull, and he really made me nervous by shouting in
my ear several times, 'Cheer up, Miss Mary.' I
jumped every time."
"He no doubt meant it kindly," said Miss Joanna,
"but I dare say it prepared you for what followed."
"We had a pleasant evening on the whole, although
I thought Mr. Burton did express his Northern views
of slavery a little more than was called for, especially
as he did not seem to object to Caroline's owning a
great many. She was in high feather and seemed
delighted to see us. At bed-time she accompanied
us to our room, where there was a bright fire, and
Cilia awaiting us. After Caroline left us Cilia
begged leave to go to a dance at the negro quarter ;
she said it was in her honor, and she seemed in haste
to be gone. So I promised to do what Mary would
need and sent her off. After I was undressed I was
standing by the fire brushing my hair. I saw Mary
fumbling about the bed and asked her if she was
ready for me to tuck her in. Instead of answering,
she came, as I thought, mysteriously up to me and
whispered, 'Negro.'

96 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Of course I thought there, was a man under the
bed. I remembered our watches, Mary's diamond
pin, and how far we were from Caroline and Mr.
Burton; for we were in the company wing. I
screamed for help as loud as I could ; the more noise
I made the more distressed Mary seemed. Caroline
and Mr. Burton came running, in most indescribable
costumes," the old lady continued, with a look of
amused restrospection. "There stood Mary in her
bed-gown and curl-papers; I in my wrapper, and
Mary staring at me as if she thought me crazy.
" 'What is the matter ?' they both exclaimed.
" 'Oh,' I said, 'Mary says there is a negro under
the bed.'
"We'll soon have the rascal out," said Mr. Burton,
poking under the bed with a big stick.
" 'Oh,' said Mary, T never said anything of the
kind, Joanna. I meant,' she said, turning as red as
a beet, 'that there were not rose blankets on the bed,
but blankets without the rose embroidered on them,
and I call those negro blankets. Joanna made such
a noise I could not explain what I meant,' and she
burst into tears. Mr. Burton bounced out of the
room, muttering something. Caroline was very
angry. She said that if she had had any idea that
we girls could behave in such a way she would never
have invited us to visit her. She had wished to give
her husband an agreeable impression of Southern
ladies, but she did not like to think what his impres
sion must be ; and as to rose blankets, we never could

ROSE BLANKETS 97
understand when things were out of date. Those
were beautiful new blankets, bought in New York
when refurnishing their guest-room. And in fact
she was so angry," concluded Miss Joanna, "that I
do not like to remember all she said."
"But I must tell you, sister," put in Miss Mary,
"she said she knew I was always a fool, but she had
thought Joanna had a little sense, and I agree with
her, Joanna, that you ought not to have made such a
noise. I never felt worse in my life than when you
began to scream. And I never .slept a wink all
night, as you know. Now, Sister Martha, which do
you think the most to blame ?"
"I cannot say," said Miss Martha, "but I know I
will never go to visit any friend with either of you.
I don't wonder Caroline was angry, and what an
impression you have made on her husband."
"Oh," said Miss Joanna,"we know he was furious.
We had a most unpleasant time at breakfast the next
morning. I tried to make a joke of the whole
episode, but failed. They were too angry; so as
Mary was feeling so shaken, and had taken all her
orange-leaf water with no benefit to her nerves, I
thought we had better come home; and I am
delighted to be here ; and too thankful neither of you
are married," she continued, with a return of her
genial smile. "For I nearly exhausted myself trying
to mollify Mr. Burton."

98 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Yes," said Miss Mary, "with no success. I do
not envy Caroline her new acquisition, and I am sure
rose blankets are the best."
Such were the agitations and events of these
tranquil lives. Their days glided by in peace and
kindly ministrations. They were fortunate in
following each other in quick succession to the old
Scotch churchyard where their fathers slept in the
"City by the Sea."

SOME LETTERS WRITTEN DURING THE
LAST MONTHS OF THE WAR
Otranto, November 20, 1864.
I have not written to you for some time, as we
have been moving about a good deal, and have
had some interesting and funny experiences. Last
summer we were tired of refugeeing, and decided to
go back to Charleston, and lived in a house on Mary
street, as we thought well out of shell range; our
own residence on South Bay being in the grass, and
glass-strewed district. Our family consists only of
my mother, sister and myself, our mankind being in
service, as you know, except father, who is in the
home guard. My mother spent most of her time1
visiting the hospitals and devising comforts for the
soldiers; my sister and I knit socks, and rejoiced
when some of our soldier relatives could snatch a
breathing-space from arduous duties at Sumter or on
the islands to visit us and partake of the best we
could bestow on them.

100 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
The sound of the shells with their sharp, rasping,
hissing sound before they exploded was familiar, the
interest being to venture into range sometimes and
discover the last place hit. There was a method in
Gilmore's management of his "Swamp Angel." We
always noticed the shells came quicker at church time
on Sunday, and at ten to eleven at night. To add
to our troubles, yellow fever broke out this year, the
only time during the war. It was not a violent
epidemic, but there were some deaths. We thought
we were immune, but in September my sister took it.
One evening early in September my sister was
better and a friend of mine (whose house we faced
in their rear) begged me to come to tea. I went
over at dusk, and with her and another guest were
enjoying a cup of real tea and a bit of toast —
quite a feast, when there was a tremendous
explosion apparently just at hand. We all sat quiet,
tea cups in hand. The negro boy rushed in, rolling
his eyes, with the announcement that the opposite
house in Aiken's row was struck, and they were
moving out. The lady and her daughter were both
ill with fever, and both died shortly in consequence
of the fright and removal.
In quick succession several houses in Aiken's row
were struck. As I look back now it seems strange
to me that we all sat quietly in the drawing-room
waiting our turn to be hit. The man servant
returning at intervals to report that another of the
houses was hit. I welcomed my father, when at

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 101
nine, he came for me. Nothing ever overcame his
sense of humor. He brought a large cotton umbrella,
which, he said, he had brought to please my mother,
as a shell might spare its hideousness. When I got
home I found my mother and sister anxiously await
ing me. I had a little cot in a corner of my sister's
room, and my mother, being anxious, lay on the bed
by her. I went to bed and was soon asleep, the
shelling apparently having ceased, but they had only
paused to try a new gun. The first shells always
going farthest, I was awakened by the horrible
familiar hiss and plaster and glass falling over me.
The shell cut the corner of the house and passed so
near me that the glasses of the window near by my
bed were broken, and the plastering above fell on
me. The monster buried itself in our yard, making
a horrible deep pit, but not exploding. A few more
inches and I would have been buried with it. It
shows how accustomed we were to shocks that I
do not remember feeling any terror, but remarked
quietly in the dark to my mother, "I think we are
hit." To my astonishment she broke forth in
ejaculations of thanksgiving. The noise and crash
had been so great she thought the side of the room
with me in it had been taken away. That was the
longest range shell that fell in Charleston. In a few
days we went to the up-country to be with friends,
and then last week came down to Otranto, where we
are now.

102 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
Otranto, January 15, 1865.
I have not written for some time, but we all are
really so troubled and depressed that, as mother says,
we have to be physically active to keep from thinking,
so little writing have I done this winter. I suppose
you know father has gone with his company of
reserves to Summerville. They are all men of over
sixty, but we hear that Summerville is pleased to
have them. Aunts Anna and May became so tired
of refugee life in Camden that they decided to join
mother, Annie, and me on the plantation. With
father and our brother away we are very lonely, but
Aunt Anna's eighty odd years make us anxious to
make her comfortable. She is better off with us,
for the terrible scarcity of provisions has not touched
us here. We have enough of home provisions, but
mother gives every morsel she can spare to the
hospitals and soldiers' wayside homes in Charleston.
The aunts say that despite the enormous board they
had to pay in Camden they had only fresh pork and
biscuits, not even milk, as so many of the cattle have
been impressed for the army.
Christmas was certainly a very gloomy day. The
news that Sherman was in Savannah struck us cold.
Our three cousins got leave of absence and came up
for a few hours. Mother had a turkey and we did
our best, but I think they feel very grave over the
state of things. We are in terror lest Charleston
will have to be abandoned. Hal begged mother to
return to the up-country, but she says she went away

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 103
three times and will not leave again. She manages
the plantation, you know. The negroes are very I
good, but there is a spirit of restlessness perceptible.
Hal was shocked when he heard that we never locked J
up the house at night.
All the white men are in the army and some
women are nervous, but we do not feel so. This
intensely cold winter makes us wretched about our
poor bare-footed soldiers. Mother can knit a pair
of socks a day. Maum Martha spins the wool. I
can do only one sock a day. We are fortunate to
have so much lightwood. It is the only source of
light we have, but we can manage our knitting and
Annie even reads sometimes, but the paper is so bad
that it is hard to read the printing on it.
Otranto, February i, 1865.
I fear you are really having a dreadful time. The
high price of provisions is certainly dreadful on
people with fixed incomes.
We had quite an adventure last Wednesday.
Father luckily came over from SummervJTle to
dinner. It was a bitterly cold day. We were just
sitting down to the luxury of calf's head soup, for
father wished some veal to carry back to camp, when
Quash came in with a rattled and rather bothered
air, and said there was a Yankee soldier outside who
wanted to give himself up. We all were thunder
struck, and followed father, who gave vent to great
displeasure.

104 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY .
At the door stood a miserable looking creature,
shivering in a tattered blue uniform. He was tall,
thin, and white as a ghost, and his feet looked
particularly white. I never saw a more abject
object. Father tried to be very severe, but you
know how kind-hearted he is, and while he was
scolding the man I overheard Quash say aside to
him, "Nebber min' what he say, Maussa doan' mean
it. He is one ob de kindest mens in de wurl."
It seems that the man was a prisoner who had
escaped from the cars on his way to prison some
three months ago and was trying to make his way
to the coast, hoping to get through our lines. He
had been living among the negroes, sleeping in their
houses by day and traveling by night; but the
wretched existence had worn him out and he came
to give himself up. He was an Englishman who
was impressed on his arrival in New York and he
begged father to ask the authorities to let him take
the oath of allegiance and fight for us; but father
said there had been enough of that and such galvan
ized Yankees had done more harm than good.
This poor wretch is the first enemy we have
seen, and we could not help feeling sorry for him,
although, as father says, no doubt he has been
demoralizing the negroes. He gave him a good
dinner and turned him over to Daddy Paul to take
care of until the next day, when father took him to
Charleston and delivered him to the authorities.
Mother found him an old jacket and pair of shoes

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 105
and socks, which she gave him. Surely she had
never expected to give a pair of her socks to one of
the enemy.
Maum Martha thinks our kindness misplaced andf
told us he talked very different to them from the'
way he talked to us, but she told us this only
after he had left, although it would have made no
difference. We may have "heaped coals of fire," etc.
Otranto, February 15, 1865.
I have not heard from you for some time, but I
know in these dark days you think of us. There is
no doubt we live in dreadful times. We may soon
be in the enemy's country, or rather our troops may
have to retire from the coast.
Yesterday Annie and I determined to drive over
to Summerville and dine with aunt, as she and
Cousin Sue have begged us to do so. Mother did
not want us to go. She feels the perilous times and
all the sorrows she has had make her very anxious.
But at last she consented to our going, much to Aunt
May's disappointment, who thinks we should sit
down and say, "Good Lord, deliver us," all the time.
We had a pleasant drive over, as you know it is
only nine miles. Daddy Moses drove us and mother
insisted that Cully should go as an outrider. He
rode Lamb, and went ahead. It showed that mother
was nervous, but Annie and I were amused, as we
did not know what he was expected to do. We
found aunt and Cousin Sue delighted to see us and

106 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
we enjoyed our day. We left at 5 o'clock, as we
could not get off earlier. Father dined with us and
tried to start us earlier. Aunt is delighted to have
him in Summerville as she says she "never felt so
safe, because she knows he will fight."
Our drive home was gloomy and we did not
reach there until 7 o'clock. As we drew near we ¦
met several of the negroes on farm horses looking
for us, and at the avenue gate our maid Fanny peer
ing for us in the dark. Mother and the aunts were
wretched about us, particularly as Uncle Pete had
come up from the city full of bad news. Charleston
is to be evacuated, as Sherman's movements have
made that necessary. He was horrified when he
heard that we had taken so long a drive, as he says
the woods are full of stragglers and escaped galvan
ized Yankees. I do not know what is before us, or
when you will hear from us again.
Otranto, February 20, 1865.
Charleston is being evacuated and our army is
passing all the time, and we reconcile ourselves to
being left in the enemy's lines by the hope that our
army, strengthened by the coast troops, may defeat
Sherman. This letter will go by the last of our
troops. The army has been passing for five days
and many of the men come up to the house, where
we give them everything we can for them to eat.
They are full of courage and their appearance gives
us renewed hope. They hate to leave us behind.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 107
Henry spent last night here. He got leave of
absence with difficulty, but will lejoin his regiment
at Strawberry Ferry. He begged mother to retire
into the interior; but we mean to stay. He left us
this morning. The captain in command of the rear
guard at Goose Creek Bridge has just come to bid
us good-by, and he took two letters, which he
promised to carry into our lines — one to papa and
the other to aunt, which we knew would be the last
tidings they would get from us.
This may, or may not reach you, but it is a com
fort to write. The worst has come, or I hope it has.
After my last letter we awaited the approach of the
enemy with indescribable feelings. We tried not to
think, and I must say I was afraid of being fright
ened out of my wits and was too thankful when the
Yankees came. I was too angry to be scarced. We
tried to keep up each other's spirits and were very
busy hiding things. We took only Paul, Jack and
Martha into our confidence and they helped us
faithfully. Tuesday passed in quiet. Mother, Annie and I
took our usual walk in the afternoon and met one of
the negroes, who told us that our men had not burned
the bridge, and we determined that if this was the
fact, we would do it ourselves ; but as we approached
we were glad to see it blazing in the distance. We
felt then that we were really cut off from our own

108 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
people, but at the same time had satisfaction in
knowing that if our army was pursued the enemy
would here meet an obstacle.
At 5 o'clock Wednesday afternoon as we were
again getting ready for a walk, a man was seen
riding rapidly up the avenue. I called out, "The
Yankees are here. I know them by their blue legs !"
and you may be sure the family assembled quickly.
In the mean while the man dashed past the house and
rode quickly around it, evidently expecting some one
to run out ; finding no one, he returned to the front
of the house, where we five ladies stood together on
the piazza. By this time we saw many others
coming up the avenue.
"Where is the man of the house?" demanded the
man in an insolent tone.
Mamma replied, "He is not at home," and Aunt
May added, "He is a gray-haired man."
He gave a leer and said, "But not too old to be in
the Rebel army." This could not be denied, so we
were silent. Then, with an expression of triumph
he said, "You have never seen black troops, but you
will soon have that pleasure; they are advancing
now." Mamma said, "I suppose they are not different
from other negroes ; we are accustomed to them and
never have feared them."
This calm reply was evidently a disappointment,
as he had hoped we would have been overcome with
fear.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 109
He turned off and said, "I must get some poultry
for the General's supper," and went to the fowl-
house, where about a dozen of his men joined him.
In a few moments the cart, which just at the moment
was coming up with a load of wood, was seized and
filled with our fowls, turkeys, geese, etc., and driven
off. I happened to turn my eyes toward the western
entrance from the main road and saw the negro
soldiers rushing in.
To my latest day I will not forget their brutal
appearance. They came up brandishing their guns
with an air of wildness hard to describe, and in a
short time were scattered over the plantation, com
mitting every conceivable havoc. Their commander,
Lieutenant J  , of New York, rode up to the
house, accompanied by several white officers, and
while we stood still and calmly upon the piazza he
called out, "Where is the man of the house?"
Mother replied as before, when he said, "He is a
Rebel," and turning to her said, "I am come to
liberate your people," to which she quietly replied,
"I hope you will be as kind to them as we have been."
This visibly angered him and he exclaimed, "That
is a strange reply to make to a Northern man, and
an officer of a colored regiment." To which she
replied, "We will not discuss the question."
He turned and said something to Quash, our
waiting-man, and in a short time we heard him and
the other officers upstairs in our bed-rooms. Mamma

110 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
and Aunt Anna followed quietly and found that he
had summoned our two maids, Rachel and Fanny,
and was exhorting them to disclose where every
thing of value was concealed, saying, "Don't lie;
that woman (meaning mother) is very bad," and a
great deal more in the same strain, trying to incite
them against us. They spoke to these servants as
"Madam," and of mother as "that woman."
The two girls were very frightened, but behaved
remarkably well and assured them that no valuables
were hidden, and only the ladies' clothes were in the
rooms. However, they ransacked our wardrobes
and bureau drawers, throwing our things out all
over the floor, and when they came downstairs took
all the cold meats out of the larder.
While mother and Aunt Anna were upstairs help
lessly following Lieutenant J  around and wit
nessing his shameless conduct in our bed-rooms,
Aunt May, Annie and I remained downstairs. A
quiet-looking officer was standing in the piazza.
Aunt May, who never can control her curiosity,
said to him, "We heard some heavy firing in
Charleston this morning. Has anything occurred
there?" "Good Heavens, Madam," he replied,
"have you been so long out of the Union that you
have forgotten Washington's birthday ?"
At this moment about twenty rough-looking men
came charging up to the house, evidently intending
to enter. I confess that, for the first time I was
alarmed, and calling to the officer said, "For

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 111
Heaven's sake, protect us ; don't let those men enter."
He said, "I will do what I can," and placed himself
in the doorway.
The men seeing him come forward as our pro
tector, stopped in the piazza. By this time Lieu
tenant J  and his party had returned from
searching our bed-rooms, and calling to his men said,
"Boys, take what you want." These acted like long-
pent-up animals suddenly let loose. All our stock,
horses and mules were driven off, our cattle, sheep
and hogs were killed; the barns and smoke-house
were broken open, and all their contents scattered,
and all our vehicles of every kind, tools and imple
ments were broken in pieces and thrown into the
creek or burned.
It was awful to hear the screams of the cattle and
hogs as they were chased and bayoneted, and the
scatter and terror of the sheep was terrible to see.
Even my pet calf, which you know papa gave me,
and I took so much pleasure in raising by hand, was
killed ; and dear old Aaron, our house cat, was cruelly
run through with a bayonet, right before my eyes,
as he tried to escape under the house. Such brutal
scenes I never had supposed I would ever have to
witness. While all this was going on mother said to Lieu
tenant J  , "If you take from us all means of
subsistence we will starve." He turned, and with
much satisfaction said, "You are being punished for
what you have done;" and going out, mounted his

112 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
horse and rode off among the negroes, proclaiming
to them their freedom and incessantly asking for
"the man of the house." They could only say that
he was absent, when he said, "He may not be here,
but he has left a  rebel of a woman, who is as
bad as a man, and the house ought to be burnt."
The negroes were very much alarmed, and entreated
us not to talk to the soldiers as they hated us so and
said such awful things.
It was now quite dark and the excitement and
confusion were truly awful. We all withdrew to
the parlor, and closing the door sat in the dark, not
knowing what the next moment might bring forth ;
but the faithful Quash brought in a candle and placed
it on the table with his accustomed air.
He had scarcely brought it in when the front door
was opened and in walked General Potter, followed
by his aids. Not one of them bad the decency to
make the least salutation, or take any notice of the
five ladies seated in the room. But the General im
mediately seated himself, while Lieutenant J 
seized our candle, and opening mother's bed-room
door called out, "General, this will be a comfortable
room for you," to which remark the General
assented. Lieutenant J  , then looking around
said, "I take possession of this room for General
Potter." After this the General made repeated
attempts at conversation with us, but as we had
that afternoon seen such wanton destruction of our
property, and were constrained to see our enemies

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 113 i
occupying the rooms in which it had been so often
our pleasure to entertain our friends, you may
imagine we were in no mood for conversation.
We all soon went upstairs, where Quash brought
us some tea. As it was then near midnight we
decided to go to bed, and mother said she would go
down in the morning and request that a written
protection be furnished us, as this had been suggested
by the quiet-looking officer, our protector of the
afternoon before. Therefore, as early as possible she
did so, but General Potter received her very shortly,
and only replied, "Your husband is in the Rebel
army." She replied, "It was our desire that he
should leave us, and I am glad he is not here, for if
he had been I suppose he would have been shot."
He replied, "You talk like a fool when you say
that," and turned off ; when mother said, "If that is
your opinion, I have the more need of protection."
As the General was about to go out to mount his
horse at the door, Lieutenant B  came to the
rescue, saying, "General, with your permission, I can
write a paper addressed to the officers and men of
the United States army, saying that it is your
desire that this house and its lady occupants be
unmolested." The General only answered, "You may if you
wish," when a paper to that effect was written, and
its influence was certainly beneficial. We felt that
we owed our safety largely to Lieutenant B  ,
who conducted himself in every way as a gentleman,

114 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
and on leaving thanked mother courteously for his
night's accommodation and politely bowed to all of
us. It was near midday before all of the officers had
left the house, and we, much jaded, were able to have
breakfast. The house was now kept strictly shut
up, as the lawn was still studded with the tent flies
of the regiment encamped there. If a door was
opened for a moment, a soldier would walk in, and
it was as much as mother could do to get him out
again. We kept almost entirely upstairs, taking all of our
meals there, and in constant dread of making any
noise. One man said to mother, "The General
thinks that your husband is hidden; he does not
believe that he is not here."
In this extremity a kind-looking Irish soldier
came to our aid and promised that we should be
protected if it "cost him his life,'' and that he would
bring a friend with him, who would spend the night
in the shed room, "to be handy, if needed." This
kind friend, McManus, proved his Irish blood by
bringing the most villainous specimen of a man we
had yet seen, and whispering to mother that "sure
he had no confidence in him at all."
We were much taken aback at McManus's friend's
appearance, but relieved when the chaplain of the
regiment came up and asked to be allowed to sleep
in the house.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 115
Our servants behaved admirably and themselves
provided and served our meals with unfailing -regu
larity, and managed to give us many little treats,
which we suspected came from the United States
commissariat. Mother hopes that she may be able
to get us to the city in safety, for our position here
is very unprotected and we wish to get possession of
our house in the city before it falls into the hands of
the Freedmen's Bureau.
I place this letter in the hands of  , who
promises to get it through the lines, and I trust it
will reach you. Charleston, March 14, 1865.
I hope my last safely reached you, and I know
you feel anxious about us, so I will get  to smug
gle this through the lines. You will be relieved to
know that we are once more in our house in Charles
ton. By dint of mother's representations of our unpro
tected condition on the plantation to the officer in
command, and her frequent reminders that by their
confiscation of all our animals and destruction of
our vehicles we had been deprived of all means of
transporting ourselves to the city, she obtained trans
portation. As soon as the Northeastern Railroad was put in
running order, which was within a few days after
Charleston was evacuated, the major informed us

116 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
that we might ride down in a box-car. He also
gave us permission to carry in the car whatever
household goods we could.
It was hard to choose from the accumulation of
years what furniture to take with us, as we knew
that all that was left would be stolen, our presence
only having kept out the vagrant negroes and camp
followers, who, we heard from the servants, com
plained very much that our house had not been
gutted as had others in the neighborhood. We had
a very short time for choosing, as we had notice
only in the afternoon, that we must be off in the
morning. Mother had a time among us, as each
had something very untransportable, which, to quote
dear Aunt Anna, "it would be sacrilege to leave."
I fought hard for all the books and the old sofa,
which had been in the house since the Revolution,
and was said to have been Washington's favorite
seat when he visited the plantation in 1791; but I
had to content myself with only the books that I
could get into a trunk, and when our friendly Irish
soldier, McManus, who volunteered to help us move
the things, seized our valued sofa to hoist it into
the car, it proved its antiquity by breaking in pieces.
I could have cried over the loss, but mother said,
"This is no time for sentiment; it has served from
one Revolution to be wrecked in another."
The last night we spent at the plantation was truly
(forlorn. The servants warned us to expect an attack
'from some vagrant negroes, who had come from the

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 117
up-country, and were roving about, as Maum Mar
tha expressed it, "free till dey fool," robbing and
destroying, unchecked by the authorities.
We asked the officer in command to give us a
guard for the night, but he refused; so mother de
cided that we must spend the night together in the
parlor. The men servants promised to watch out
side, and both Fanny and Rachel begged to be al
lowed to stay with us in the house. You may imag
ine that it was a weary vigil, as none of us slept,
and we put out the light, fearing lest it might guide
some evil-doer.
Paul, Quash and Jack walked around the house
by turns all night ; and I am sure that it was owing
to their faithful watchfulness that the dawn found
us unmolested.
At an early hour Maum Martha brought in a nice
breakfast, and with some pride told us that one of
the officers had seen her preparing it and had ex
pressed surprise ; but she had told him that she was
from an old Congo family herself, an' no upstart
free nigger; for since Maussa's family came from
France, and hers from Africa, they had been to
gether for five generations. "An' so long as I's in
de kitchen I knew what's proper to be sent in de
house, even if I hab to scurry to get it."
Quash, Fanny, and Rachel came with us to the
city, but Maum Martha and Paul were left behind
in their home.

118 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
With difficulty we got in to the dirty box-car, and
Aunt May had quilted into her skirts many papers
for safe-keeping and around her shoulders had her
valuable cashmere shawl sewed under a black one,
all of which weighted her down so that she fell, and
frightened us much by her inability to rise.
We picked her up and were thankful that she
was not hurt, and had been kept from getting up
only by her entourage.
At the station in Charleston we first heard of
the burning of Columbia and while we were waiting
for a carriage the officer in command of the guard
kept dinning into our ears that General Hampton had
burned that city, which assertion mother firmly con
tradicted, persistently saying that General Sherman
had done it.
We were much afraid that we would find our
house taken by the Freedmen's Bureau, or by some
"officers for a residence, but happily neither was the
case. But we found that nearly all the furniture
had been stolen, and were thankful to have the few
pieces that we had brought from the plantation.
As it was on Saturday that we came down all of
our things had to be left in the station until Monday,
and then when Quash went for them he found that
the military gentry ( ?) had taken from among them
whatever they wanted.
All the furniture that we found in the house was
an old table and a very large book-case, and my
only bed thus far has been a mosquito net spread on
the floor.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 119
t On Sunday afternoon mother and Aunt May went
to see Cousin M., who is very ill, and while Annie
and I remained with Aunt Anna, who was resting
on her mattress on the floor, Rachel came rushing
up stairs, saying, "Oh, mam, some officers say they
want this house and have come to take it; they
are coming up into the dining-room now."
I at once said, "We must go down and meet
them," and calling to Annie to put the few spoons
that were out at once in her pocket, we each gave
Aunt Anna an arm and went down, followed by
Rachel. I must say I felt much agitated at the thought of
what we might encounter, and dreaded for our old
aunt, who seemed much unnerved.
As we entered the dining-room by one door a
naval officer came in by the other, advancing with a
calm air of possession.
I was just going to speak when Aunt Anna as
tounded us by saying, in the kindest tones, "Why,
Edmund! how is your mother?"
We thought her bereft of reason, but the effect
upon the officer was instantaneously overwhelming.
He staggered and exclaimed, "Good God ! Miss J—,
is it you? You shall not be molested," and turning
quickly, left the house without giving her a chance
to say another word.
It seems that Aunt Anna had instantly recognized
him as the son of an old and dear friend in New

120 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
York, and upon the return of mother and Aunt May
the unlooked-for occurrence was fully discussed.
Aunt was much commended for recognizing him
and we hope that her recognition will stand us in
good stead, as we know that Lieutenant Henry is a
gentleman, and on account of the warm friendship
that has existed for so many years between our old
aunts and the elder members of his family he will
probably use any influence he may have with the
authorities in our favor.
The next day another naval officer called at the
house and asked to see mother, whom he told that
he had had the pleasure, previous to the war, of
serving with those of our family who were then
in the navy, and although he had been blockading
Charleston for many months he had promised our
cousin, Lieutenant  , who remained in the
United States Navy, that if he ever got into Charles
ton he would look us up, and gladly do what he
could to help us.
Mother felt that in our present defenseless condi
tion she should not refuse any offers of aid, and
thanked him. He then produced a copy of a morn
ing paper, which contained a general order that any
citizen who desired protection must put a United
States flag on his house, and that no outrages would
be punished that were committed on premises that
did not contain such flags.
After reading this order he drew from his pocket
a small flag, which, he said, with our permission, he
would tack to the piazza.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 121
Mother politely declined his offer, but our aunts
made such a point of the advisability of accepting
it that she was induced to yield. He then asked me
to hold the little staff while he tacked it to the post ;
but I could not touch it, and called to his assistance
a little negro girl, as more appropriate, who stood
staring in at the gate, and she held it for him.
Annie looked on quietly and said nothing, but at
night, after we were gone to bed, said, " I cannot
stand it. I cannot breathe with that flag there."
She only expressed my own feelings, so we quietly
went down in the dark, and pulling it down, secreted
it. We determined to keep our own counsel, as we had
heard only the day before of the arrest and imprison
ment of a lady for pulling down a similar flag, and
had no desire to be martyrs, only we did not want it
there. The next morning, while we held our peace,
we were much amused at the excitement of our aunts
over the disappearance of the flag, and their insist
ing that they knew it had been stolen, for they had
seen "a man going down the street with one just like
it." The house now remains as heretofore, undecorated.
Captain Mayo, our naval friend, has just come to
inform mother that orders have been issued by the
commanding general that we all must go up King
street tomorrow morning, and take the oath of
allegiance to the United States. She positively
refused, but Captain Mayo says that in case of non-

122 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
compliance we will all have to leave the city at once.
I am at a loss to imagine what grounds the authori
ties have for fear of us, as helpless a party of five
ladies as can be found, the eldest being 81, and the
youngest 16; but we must decide today, and unless
you see us, if we are actually turned out, I will write
you of the result in another letter.
Charleston, March 17, 1865.
Day before yesterday Captain Mayo returned and
informed us that the orders had been modified, so
that if we desired, only the oath of neutrality would
be required.
We had never before heard of such an oath being
required of helpless women, but we were willing to
compromise under the circumstances. So as there
was not the smallest chance of our ever being of any
service again to the Confederate cause, we announced
our willingness to declare ourselves neutral if the
United States Government thought it important.
Aunt Anna said her 81 years rendered her utterly
unable to walk as far as the provost marshal's office
and asked if the commandant thought her neutrality
of importance would he send an officer to the house
to administer the oath ? This was done.
Aunt May, having in view the new regulation,
which prohibited the delivery of letters through the
post-office to any one who had not taken the oath of

some war-time letters 123
allegiance, and having her daughter in New York,
from whom she was anxious to hear, said tremblingly
that she would take the oath of allegiance.
Captain Mayo's manner to her immediately
changed, and became very cordial, as he said he
would go and notify the provost marshal and come
back for us, whom he had already offered to
accompany. We retired to our room to make ourselves present
able for the streets, as we had not been out of the
house since we came down from the plantation ; and
Annie and I changed our homespun dresses for our
black and put on, with lurking feelings of satisfac
tion, our bonnets, for which we had paid the milliner,
only a few months before, $150 each. We felt that
our enemies would be impressed with the fact that
we were quite within the circle of the fashionable
world, and really when we appeared Captain Mayo
seemed quite struck ; but we did not then imagine the
reason. He courteously offered his arm to Aunt May, who
took it with a deep sigh, and we, leaving Aunt Anna
to Rachel's care, followed them to the provost
marshal's office, where we had reason to be glad of
Captain Mayo's escort, as the sidewalk in front of
the office and the doorway were thronged with idle
negroes, who would have made themselves very
offensive if they had not seen us escorted by a United
States officer.

124 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
As we entered, Captain Mayo said to us in a low
tone, "The oath will be administered to you ladies
by a member of one of the best families of Boston,"
to which Annie replied, "Don't you think that he
might be better employed ?"
Of this the captain took no notice as he led the
party to the middle of a room, where we stood the
attraction of many curious eyes. The officer at the
table came forward and asked which of the ladies
desired to take the oath of allegiance, whereupon
Aunt May, looking very conscious, moved forward
and tremblingly held up her hand, but she was so
agitated that she could scarcely murmur her assent
and sign her name to the iron-clad oath.
When she had finished Captain Mayo congratu
lated her upon her renewed loyalty, but much to his
chagrin she replied, "I only did it so that I could get
my letters from the post-office ; but I had not idea that
the oath contained such dreadful sentiments; please
let me scratch out my name and take the oath of
neutrality instead."
At this the provost marshal remarked, "Madam,
do you not realize the sanctity of an oath, or do you
desire to take all the oaths ?"
Mother and Annie calmly took oaths of neutrality,
and when my turn came and I stepped forward to
swear neutrality to the United States, it appeared to
be the crowning farce of the day. The officers

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 125
present seemed to be impressed with the absurdity of
the thing and could not control their countenances,
and smiled as I stood before them.
As we sadly walked away we passed several
Northern women and observed that they all wore
bonnets not much larger than our hands, while our
bonnets that we had thought so much of, with their
lofty fronts, could be compared to nothing more
truly than the tower of Pisa. We could not resist
the idea that the oddity of our appearance must have
led them to imagine that we had just come out of
the ark.
Upon our arrival at home Annie and I at once set
about cutting down our bonnets and drawing in and
changing the shape of our skirts, but mother was
very unsympathetic and said she could not imagine
why we wished to look like Yankee women.
Annie and I witnessed a sickening sight yesterday
when we were out on the street for a few moments.
A handsome large dog was being chased by some
negro soldiers, one' of whom dashed out its brains
with the butt of a rifle almost on to our skirts. We
were dreadfully agitated, and upon mentioning the
matter to Captain Mayo, he informed us that all dogs
must have licenses or be killed. I was much dis
tressed at the danger of losing my pet Cora, but
Captain Mayo offered to obtain a license free for
her if I would accept it, and as we did not have $1.50
to pay for it, we accepted his kind offer, so Cora is
now protected.

126 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
Yesterday mother received notice that a war tax
had been levied upon all real estate, and that it must
be paid within thirty days. Our tax amounts to
$180, and for our lives we cannot conceive where
the money is coming from to pay it, as we have only
one gold dollar among us, but little provisions, and
only two of our cows that were smart enough to
escape into the woods when the others of the
herd were slaughtered at the plantation by General
Potter's troops.
Mother was greatly troubled about the necessity
of raising the money, and seeing an advertisement in
the paper that old china and handsome pieces of glass
would be bought by a Bostonian for relics, sent an
answer to the address and this morning took from
the trunk some of our best pieces we had saved and
set them upon our only table in readiness for the
purchaser. While we were at dinner two very unattractive
citizens of Boston presented themselves, who after
looking at the articles, declined to purchase and
instead offered themselves as boarders, saying that
they had come to Charleston to open a grocery house
and would be willing to pay their board in provisions.
Of course this arrangement was promptly declined,
but we were very much disheartened that our first
effort to raise the money for the tax had proved such
a failure. I give you a copy of the oath of neutrality I had
to take ; it is such a farce.

SOME WAR-TIME LETTERS 127
"Headquarters Northern District Department South.
"Provost Marshal's Office, No. 35 King Street,
"Charleston, S. C, March 15, 1865.
"I do hereby certify on honor that on the 15th day
of March, 1865, at Charleston, S. C, the oath of
neutrality to the United States of America was duly
taken, subscribed and made matter of record of by
Miss Marion Porcher.
"Thomas L. Appleton,
Captain Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers,
Provost Marshal, N. D. D. S."

TAY— A STORY OF A MAUMA
One day some time ago, while turning over the
contents of an old trunk, which had been mine since
childhood, had followed me in innumerable moves,
and contained the odds and ends full of associations
as life goes on, I came to a pair of half-moon ear
rings ; they were very large, and of old gold. "Oh !"
I exclaimed, as I looked at them, "these bring Tay
back to the life."
My little girls, who had been looking on, eager-
eyed, for mamma's old trunk had always possessed
a mysterious charm for Floy, and Grace, enhanced
since some years previous, when, after I had given
up the idea of having new cloaks for them for the
winter, I chanced to see an advertisement for Con
federate bonds, and succeeded in finding enough of
these in my old trunk to supply the needed cloaks,
and also other things.
"Who was Tay?" they both exclaimed. I felt a
sense of self-reproach at the question ; and I am sure
to Tay herself the idea that one of her "chillun's chil-
lun" could have reached the mature age of ten years
and never had heard of her existence would have

TAY 129
seemed incredible. It was not from any lack of
kindly recollection of the old woman that I had not
told the children of her; but my life had been a busy
one, with many invalid times, when the reverses of
life pressed heavily, and I shrank from speaking vol
untarily of my childhood days, which had been so
different from theirs ; and besides the children of the
South today, whose mothers were half-grown girls
at the time of emancipation, belong to a new order
of things, and are out of sympathy with their parents
on many subjects. They do not understand their
elders' feelings toward the negroes. They regard
them with very impartial eyes, and see them as they
are today. And as the succession of careless, ignor
ant cooks and housemaids come and go they cannot
understand the kind allowances made for their faults
by those who remember the tender nursing of the
dear old maumas. But to return to Tay.
"Who was Tay?" I repeated. "Why, one of the
best of women ; and it is high time you should hear
about her, and love her memory. So if you will get
your knitting and sit very quite I will tell you her
story. "Her name was Kitty, but we children always
called her Tay. When your grandmother was mar
ried Tay was given to her as her maid ; and a most
accomplished one she was, besides being a skilled
seamstress, and clear starcher. A younger woman
had taken her place as maid when I first remember
her, and she was the upper servant, always carrying

13C LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
the keys, and taking charge of the household, when
your grandmother was ill or absent. She was at
least six feet tall; her waist claimed nearly half
her length, or looked as if it did. She was quite
light-colored, with large black eyes that looked as
if a millstone would be no obstacle to her vision. I
assure you her appearance was calculated to inspire
awe in our breasts. Her great height was of itself
impressive, and made more so by her costume. She
usually wore a black frock with a very tight body,
and full skirt; and an enormous bustle, such as was
not worn in those days; a white hankerchief over
her shoulders, pinned across her bosom; a white
apron; and to cap the climax a very stiffly starched
white turban (all the worn muslin dresses of the fam
ily went to keep up the supply). She always tied
her turbans on a block to shape them, and stuffed a
newspaper in the top to keep the shape; and when
she finally put one on her head the effect was tre
mendous. Her pride in gold earrings was great.
She always wore them, and kept them as shiny as
could be. With the basket of keys on her arm, she
would look like a person not to be trifled with, nor
did we ever so venture. Her devotion to us all was
very great — 'Miss, Maussa, an' de chillun' bounded
her horizon. Her idea was to economize; 'for
Maussa,' she would say, 'is so freehanded, an' six
chillun is a houseful' "
"To us children she showed her regard by great
sternness of demeanor, but compensated by the beau-

TAY 131
tiful tucking she did on our dresses — the only sew
ing she ever did. And your grandmother had no
respite until she supplied the material Tay thought
necessary. Your grandmother was so sure of her
trustworthiness that she never interfered with her
management. We never thought of remonstrating,
although she mortified us sometimes by her treat
ment of our friends. She had no patience with too
many visitors, (and always presided at our tea, serv
ing us with our cups of milk, and bread and treacle.
We had some little friends who were very apt to run
in just at the tea hour. Once, when they came
steadily for a week, we saw clouds gathering on
Tay's brow, and were not surprised when, one even
ing after she had helped us all, she turned to our
friends and said : 'To-morrow, take yo' supper befo'
you come. Maussa cyan't affo'd to support two fami
lies.' This broke up our tea parties.
"Tay had a husband as remarkable in his way as
she was in hers. He was taller than she, slim, and
very black; and was a very prosperous negro. He
belonged to two maiden ladies, and lived a very inde
pendent life, free from care. He was a cooper by
trade, and in his own shop plied his calling on his
own account, only every quarter bringing his owners
his set wages. And whenever illness or trouble of
any kind overtook him, to his owners he came for
care or protection. He finally concluded to buy his
freedom, and asked your grandfather to become his
guardian, as required by the law, if he could accom-

132 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
plish his purpose. He also asked him to be so kind
as to ask his owners what they would take for him.
Your grandfather saw the ladies, who fixed as mod
erate a price as they could ; and when he told Daddy
Sam the result of his negotiations, instead of being
gratified, he was angry, and said : 'My mistresses has
no idea how valuable I is. I t'ought dey would ask
'bout $300 mo'. Dey can't affo'd to part wid me fer
less, an' I means to pay it.' The ladies were not
obdurate, and no doubt had an increased idea of
Daddy Sam's value.
"This worthy pair had no children; and Daddy
Sam died not long before the war, leaving Tay quite
a little sum of money. He had offered to buy her
freedom for her, but she did not desire it. I remem
ber that when he died she took off her turban when
she went to church, and donned a gigantic crape veil.
One day she came home very angry. She had met
some sportsmen going hunting, who had begged her
to go along with them as a ramrod, as they had lost
theirs !
"When the war began she was very unhappy.
There is no doubt that at that period there was a
feeling of expectation and disaffection among the
negroes ; but Tay was of a thoroughly loyal nature,
and had no sympathy with the negro character, and
understood it entirely; and their meaner traits were
revolting to her.
"One day in the early part of 1861, she came as
usual after breakfast to consult your grandmother

TAY 133
about the marketing that had been sent home. She
had such a funny way of describing the pieces; she
always involuntarily touched the part of her frame
she was supposed to be designating, of mutton, or
lamb. I was a light-hearted child then, and many a
hearty laugh have I had at Tay's expense, as she
would touch her leg, or shoulder, or even her head
if a calf's head were in question. But to. return to
this day. She must have heard some talk among the
negroes, for after she had got through her business,
she lingered and said to her mistress, 'O Miss, I've
had an awful dream.' Your grandmother spoke
kindly to her, and asked her what it was. The faith
ful creature sat on the floor, and looking up into our
faces she said :
"I dreamed we was all in confusion an' dere
was a big crowd, an' Maussa was sick, an' you all
looked very sad, an' you all was dressed common;
but dere was heaps of niggers 'round, but dey was
all a-runnin' 'round, an' a-kickin' up a noise; an' deir
arms in deir kimbos, an' not one a-workin' ; and you
all called for some water, an' not one went to git it,
but I ran for it, an' I said, 'O Miss, you has been a
good frien' to me, an' sometimes a bottom rail is
more use dan a same quality one; an' so long as
Kitty is here dere will always be somethin' between
you an' the groun.' And she burst into tears and left
the room.
"Your grandmother said, 'She has had no dream.
She wished to show us what is in her heart.'

134 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Ah, children, those were dreadful days, and
when in December Port Royal fell, flight, confusion,
and distress were the order of the day on the coast.
By all this there was many a young life cut short, as
truly as though a bullet had stilled it ; and it was not
only the men who laid down their lives, many a gen
tle girl was also a victim. Your grandmother sent
my two sisters and me to relatives in the interior of
the State. She remained in Charleston to look after
our affairs, intending to go to a hospital as a nurse,
if needed. We had been in the up-country but a few
days when your Aunt Lucy, as lovely a young girl
as the sun ever shone on, was seized with fever. Her
illness was fatal, and she died before her mother
could reach her.
"When we left your grandmother she had been
obliged to go to our country place on Goose Creek,
where she had remained alone — the colored driver
and other negroes being the only people on the plan
tation. Tay had always lived in the city of Charles
ton, even when we were all on the plantation; and
she always had the care of the city house. When the
direful news of your Aunt Lucy's illness reached
Charleston, Tay hastened up to the plantation to
your grandmother, saying :
" T wants you to let me come an' live here, for
anybody c'n do what I does in town; but der is a
lot of talk 'bout de whole low country will be took by
de Yankees. An' de negroes will have to go inside,
up country, an' make bread while deir masters is

TAY 135
fightin'. Now, Miss, let me stay up here, an' keep an
eye, an' if dere is anythin' I c'n do to keep things
straight, I'm here; an' if we has to leave, I will go
wid dem, an' keep dem all steady.'
"Your grandmother consented with, 'God bless
you, Tay,' and at once left to go to your ill aunt.
Tay remained on the plantation the whole winter
and spring. Your grandmother could not return;
but never had there been as much poultry and eggs
produced, lambs saved, or butter made as was done
under Tay's management. And the quantity of veg
etables 'raised proved invaluable in those war times.
And all was owing to the faithfulness of this devot
ed creature who remained to encourage the other
negroes. "When the summer of 1862 came your grand
mother wrote her that she must leave the plantation,
as she was unacclimated to that malarial country ; but
she begged to stay a little longer, as she knew she
was of service, and was quite well. Then came the
news that she was sick. She had sent to tell her
young master, who was a naval officer on duty in
Charleston harbor. He at once went to see her, and
rebuked her for having remained so long in that un
healthy climate. He got her to promise to leave the
next day. Finding that she had not arrived in the
city, he obtained leave of absence and again went
after her, but found her evidently near her end.
" 'Ah ! Massa Paul,' she said, T got up three times
to go, as I promised you I would, an' de buggy was
at de door, an' Martha here to go wid me, but I

136 LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
fainted ; an' as it was de three times I know it is de
Lord's will, I'll never leave dis bed. I hope He will
say. 'Kitty, you done what you could, an' been a
faithful servant.' I never did want to be nothin' but
a servant. Dere's plenty of dem in de Bible your
Ma gave me; and if I c'n just jine dem I'm happy.
An' now here's what I want you' Ma to have. It's
Sam's little savin's. I always kep' dem by me; an'
when I seen these war times, an' such curious-lookin'
money buy so little, I'm glad I got it. I kep' it for a
pinch ; an' fixed it so nobody would suspicion it. But
I thank de Lord you come to take it befor' I go.'
And with great effort she brought from under her
pillow a curious-looking, homespun undergarment,
into which was literally quilted coins of gold and
silver; a little fortune in Confederate money, be
sides various old trinkets and watches which Sam
had invested in.
" 'My earrin's is dere,' she said. T never wore
dem since Miss Lucy died; dey looks too bright.
Now give this to you' Ma with Kitty's duty. I wish
she could ha' closed my eyes. I know she would ha'
done it. But she an' de young ladies will be sorry,
I know, when I'm gone.'
"And then with the flash of her usual animation
she turned her eyes on her attendant, Martha, and
said : Martha have my three trunks of clo'es ;she must
give them to Miss'. Dey will keep her house servants
decent for a time; an' yo' Ma does hate a sloven,
Martha knows. I will walk at her if she takes any-
thin' out befo' Miss comes. Lord help me !'
"A faithful soul gone home."

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