Part 7

Charleston is being evacuated and our army is passing all the time, and we reconcile ourselves to being left in the enemy's lines by the hope that our army, strengthened by the coast troops, may defeat Sherman. This letter will go by the last of our troops. The army has been passing for five days and many of the men come up to the house, where we give them everything we can for them to eat. They are full of courage and their appearance gives us renewed hope. They hate to leave us behind. Henry spent last night here. He got leave of absence with difficulty, but will rejoin his regiment at Strawberry Ferry. He begged mother to retire into the interior; but we mean to stay. He left us this morning. The captain in command of the rear-guard at Goose Creek Bridge has just come to bid us good-by, and he took two letters, which he promised to carry into our lines--one to papa and the other to aunt, which we knew would be the last tidings they would get from us.

This may, or may not reach you, but it is a comfort to write. The worst has come, or I hope it has. After my last letter we awaited the approach of the enemy with indescribable feelings. We tried not to think, and I must say I was afraid of being frightened out of my wits and was too thankful when the Yankees came. I was too angry to be scared. We tried to keep up each other's spirits and were very busy hiding things. We took only Paul, Jack and Martha into our confidence and they helped us faithfully.

Tuesday passed in quiet. Mother, Annie and I took our usual walk in the afternoon and met one of the negroes, who told us that our men had not burned the bridge, and we determined that if this was the fact, we would do it ourselves; but as we approached we were glad to see it blazing in the distance. We felt then that we were really cut off from our own 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.

He turned off and said, "I must get some poultry for the General's supper," and went to the fowl-house, where about a dozen of his men joined him. In a few moments the cart, which just at the moment was coming up with a load of wood, was seized and filled with our fowls, turkeys, geese, etc., and driven off.

I happened to turn my eyes toward the western entrance from the main road and saw the negro soldiers rushing in.

To my latest day I will not forget their brutal appearance. They came up brandishing their guns with an air of wildness hard to describe, and in a short time were scattered over the plantation, committing every conceivable havoc. Their commander, Lieutenant J----, of New York, rode up to the house, accompanied by several white officers, and while we stood still and calmly upon the piazza he called out, "Where is the man of the house?"

Mother replied as before, when he said, "He is a Rebel," and turning to her said, "I am come to liberate your people," to which she quietly replied, "I hope you will be as kind to them as we have been." This visibly angered him and he exclaimed, "That is a strange reply to make to a Northern man, and an officer of a colored regiment." To which she replied, "We will not discuss the question."

He turned and said something to Quash, our waiting-man, and in a short time we heard him and the other officers upstairs in our bed-rooms. Mamma and Aunt Anna followed quietly and found that he had summoned our two maids, Rachel and Fanny, and was exhorting them to disclose where everything of value was concealed, saying, "Don't lie; that woman (meaning mother) is very bad," and a great deal more in the same strain, trying to incite them against us. They spoke to these servants as "Madam," and of mother as "that woman."

The two girls were very frightened, but behaved remarkably well and assured them that no valuables were hidden, and only the ladies' clothes were in the rooms. However, they ransacked our wardrobes and bureau drawers, throwing our things out all over the floor, and when they came downstairs took all the cold meats out of the larder.

While mother and Aunt Anna were upstairs helplessly following Lieutenant J---- around and witnessing his shameless conduct in our bed-rooms, Aunt May, Annie and I remained downstairs. A quiet-looking officer was standing in the piazza.

Aunt May, who never can control her curiosity, said to him, "We heard some heavy firing in Charleston this morning. Has anything occurred there?" "Good Heavens, Madam," he replied, "have you been so long out of the Union that you have forgotten Washington's birthday?"

At this moment about twenty rough-looking men came charging up to the house, evidently intending to enter. I confess that, for the first time I was alarmed, and calling to the officer said, "For 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 protector, stopped in the piazza. By this time Lieutenant J---- and his party had returned from searching our bed-rooms, and calling to his men said, "Boys, take what you want." These acted like long-pent-up animals suddenly let loose. All our stock, horses and mules were driven off, our cattle, sheep and hogs were killed; the barns and smoke-house were broken open, and all their contents scattered, and all our vehicles of every kind, tools and implements were broken in pieces and thrown into the creek or burned.

It was awful to hear the screams of the cattle and hogs as they were chased and bayoneted, and the scatter and terror of the sheep was terrible to see. Even my pet calf, which you know papa gave me, and I took so much pleasure in raising by hand, was killed; and dear old Aaron, our house cat, was cruelly run through with a bayonet, right before my eyes, as he tried to escape under the house. Such brutal scenes I never had supposed I would ever have to witness.

While all this was going on mother said to Lieutenant J----, "If you take from us all means of subsistence we will starve." He turned, and with much satisfaction said, "You are being punished for what you have done;" and going out, mounted his 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 had the decency to make the least salutation, or take any notice of the five ladies seated in the room. But the General immediately seated himself, while Lieutenant J----seized our candle, and opening mother's bed-room door called out, "General, this will be a comfortable room for you," to which remark the General assented. Lieutenant J----, then looking around said, "I take possession of this room for General Potter." After this the General made repeated attempts at conversation with us, but as we had that afternoon seen such wanton destruction of our property, and were constrained to see our enemies 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, and on leaving thanked mother courteously for his night's accommodation and politely bowed to all of us.

It was near midday before all of the officers had left the house, and we, much jaded, were able to have breakfast. The house was now kept strictly shut up, as the lawn was still studded with the tent flies of the regiment encamped there. If a door was opened for a moment, a soldier would walk in, and it was as much as mother could do to get him out again.

We kept almost entirely upstairs, taking all of our meals there, and in constant dread of making any noise. One man said to mother, "The General thinks that your husband is hidden; he does not believe that he is not here."

In this extremity a kind-looking Irish soldier came to our aid and promised that we should be protected if it "cost him his life," and that he would bring a friend with him, who would spend the night in the shed room, "to be handy, if needed." This kind friend, McManus, proved his Irish blood by bringing the most villainous specimen of a man we had yet seen, and whispering to mother that "sure he had no confidence in him at all."

We were much taken aback at McManus's friend's appearance, but relieved when the chaplain of the regiment came up and asked to be allowed to sleep in the house.

Our servants behaved admirably and themselves provided and served our meals with unfailing regularity, and managed to give us many little treats, which we suspected came from the United States commissariat. Mother hopes that she may be able to get us to the city in safety, for our position here is very unprotected and we wish to get possession of our house in the city before it falls into the hands of the Freedmen's Bureau.

I place this letter in the hands of ----, who promises to get it through the lines, and I trust it will reach you.

* * * * *

CHARLESTON, March 14, 1865.

I hope my last safely reached you, and I know you feel anxious about us, so I will get ---- to smuggle this through the lines. You will be relieved to know that we are once more in our house in Charleston.

By dint of mother's representations of our unprotected condition on the plantation to the officer in command, and her frequent reminders that by their confiscation of all our animals and destruction of our vehicles we had been deprived of all means of transporting ourselves to the city, she obtained transportation.

As soon as the Northeastern Railroad was put in running order, which was within a few days after Charleston was evacuated, the major informed us 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, complained very much that our house had not been gutted as had others in the neighborhood. We had a very short time for choosing, as we had notice only in the afternoon, that we must be off in the morning. Mother had a time among us, as each had something very untransportable, which, to quote dear Aunt Anna, "it would be sacrilege to leave."

I fought hard for all the books and the old sofa, which had been in the house since the Revolution, and was said to have been Washington's favorite seat when he visited the plantation in 1791; but I had to content myself with only the books that I could get into a trunk, and when our friendly Irish soldier, McManus, who volunteered to help us move the things, seized our valued sofa to hoist it into the car, it proved its antiquity by breaking in pieces. I could have cried over the loss, but mother said, "This is no time for sentiment; it has served from one Revolution to be wrecked in another."

The last night we spent at the plantation was truly forlorn. The servants warned us to expect an attack from some vagrant negroes, who had come from the up-country, and were roving about, as Maum Martha expressed it, "free till dey fool," robbing and destroying, unchecked by the authorities.

We asked the officer in command to give us a guard for the night, but he refused; so mother decided that we must spend the night together in the parlor. The men servants promised to watch outside, and both Fanny and Rachel begged to be allowed to stay with us in the house. You may imagine that it was a weary vigil, as none of us slept, and we put out the light, fearing lest it might guide some evil-doer.

Paul, Quash and Jack walked around the house by turns all night; and I am sure that it was owing to their faithful watchfulness that the dawn found us unmolested.

At an early hour Maum Martha brought in a nice breakfast, and with some pride told us that one of the officers had seen her preparing it and had expressed surprise; but she had told him that she was from an old Congo family herself, an' no upstart free nigger; for since Maussa's family came from France, and hers from Africa, they had been together for five generations. "An' so long as I's in de kitchen I knew what's proper to be sent in de house, even if I hab to scurry to get it."

Quash, Fanny, and Rachel came with us to the city, but Maum Martha and Paul were left behind in their home.

With difficulty we got in to the dirty box-car, and Aunt May had quilted into her skirts many papers for safe-keeping and around her shoulders had her valuable cashmere shawl sewed under a black one, all of which weighted her down so that she fell, and frightened us much by her inability to rise.

We picked her up and were thankful that she was not hurt, and had been kept from getting up only by her entourage.

At the station in Charleston we first heard of the burning of Columbia and while we were waiting for a carriage the officer in command of the guard kept dinning into our ears that General Hampton had burned that city, which assertion mother firmly contradicted, persistently saying that General Sherman had done it.

We were much afraid that we would find our house taken by the Freedmen's Bureau, or by some officers for a residence, but happily neither was the case. But we found that nearly all the furniture had been stolen, and were thankful to have the few pieces that we had brought from the plantation.

As it was on Saturday that we came down all of our things had to be left in the station until Monday, and then when Quash went for them he found that the military gentry (?) had taken from among them whatever they wanted.

All the furniture that we found in the house was an old table and a very large book-case, and my only bed thus far has been a mosquito net spread on the floor.

On Sunday afternoon mother and Aunt May went to see Cousin M., who is very ill, and while Annie and I remained with Aunt Anna, who was resting on her mattress on the floor, Rachel came rushing up stairs, saying, "Oh, mam, some officers say they want this house and have come to take it; they are coming up into the dining-room now."

I at once said, "We must go down and meet them," and calling to Annie to put the few spoons that were out at once in her pocket, we each gave Aunt Anna an arm and went down, followed by Rachel.

I must say I felt much agitated at the thought of what we might encounter, and dreaded for our old aunt, who seemed much unnerved.

As we entered the dining-room by one door a naval officer came in by the other, advancing with a calm air of possession.

I was just going to speak when Aunt Anna astounded us by saying, in the kindest tones, "Why, Edmund! how is your mother?"

We thought her bereft of reason, but the effect upon the officer was instantaneously overwhelming. He staggered and exclaimed, "Good God! Miss J--, is it you? You shall not be molested," and turning quickly, left the house without giving her a chance to say another word.

It seems that Aunt Anna had instantly recognized him as the son of an old and dear friend in New 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 Charleston he would look us up, and gladly do what he could to help us.

Mother felt that in our present defenseless condition she should not refuse any offers of aid, and thanked him. He then produced a copy of a morning paper, which contained a general order that any citizen who desired protection must put a United States flag on his house, and that no outrages would be punished that were committed on premises that did not contain such flags.

After reading this order he drew from his pocket a small flag, which, he said, with our permission, he would tack to the piazza.

Mother politely declined his offer, but our aunts made such a point of the advisability of accepting it that she was induced to yield. He then asked me to hold the little staff while he tacked it to the post; but I could not touch it, and called to his assistance a little negro girl, as more appropriate, who stood staring in at the gate, and she held it for him.

Annie looked on quietly and said nothing, but at night, after we were gone to bed, said, "I cannot stand it. I cannot breathe with that flag there." She only expressed my own feelings, so we quietly went down in the dark, and pulling it down, secreted it.

We determined to keep our own counsel, as we had heard only the day before of the arrest and imprisonment of a lady for pulling down a similar flag, and had no desire to be martyrs, only we did not want it there. The next morning, while we held our peace, we were much amused at the excitement of our aunts over the disappearance of the flag, and their insisting that they knew it had been stolen, for they had seen "a man going down the street with one just like it."

The house now remains as heretofore, undecorated.

Captain Mayo, our naval friend, has just come to inform mother that orders have been issued by the commanding general that we all must go up King street tomorrow morning, and take the oath of allegiance to the United States. She positively refused, but Captain Mayo says that in case of noncompliance we will all have to leave the city at once. I am at a loss to imagine what grounds the authorities have for fear of us, as helpless a party of five ladies as can be found, the eldest being 81, and the youngest 16; but we must decide to-day, and unless you see us, if we are actually turned out, I will write you of the result in another letter.

* * * * *

CHARLESTON, March 17, 1865.

Day before yesterday Captain Mayo returned and informed us that the orders had been modified, so that if we desired, only the oath of neutrality would be required.

We had never before heard of such an oath being required of helpless women, but we were willing to compromise under the circumstances. So as there was not the smallest chance of our ever being of any service again to the Confederate cause, we announced our willingness to declare ourselves neutral if the United States Government thought it important.

Aunt Anna said her 81 years rendered her utterly unable to walk as far as the provost marshal's office and asked if the commandant thought her neutrality of importance would he send an officer to the house to administer the oath? This was done.

Aunt May, having in view the new regulation, which prohibited the delivery of letters through the post-office to any one who had not taken the oath of 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 presentable for the streets, as we had not been out of the house since we came down from the plantation; and Annie and I changed our homespun dresses for our black and put on, with lurking feelings of satisfaction, our bonnets, for which we had paid the milliner, only a few months before, $150 each. We felt that our enemies would be impressed with the fact that we were quite within the circle of the fashionable world, and really when we appeared Captain Mayo seemed quite struck; but we did not then imagine the reason.

He courteously offered his arm to Aunt May, who took it with a deep sigh, and we, leaving Aunt Anna to Rachel's care, followed them to the provost marshal's office, where we had reason to be glad of Captain Mayo's escort, as the sidewalk in front of the office and the doorway were thronged with idle negroes, who would have made themselves very offensive if they had not seen us escorted by a United States officer.