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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:56 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:56 -0700 |
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diff --git a/36969-h/36969-h.htm b/36969-h/36969-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c5c92a --- /dev/null +++ b/36969-h/36969-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13827 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Women of the Confederacy, by Rev. J. L. Underwood, a Project Gutenberg eBook</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media all { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + } + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + .chsub {font-size: .8em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + div.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em;} + div.poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + div.poem p.indent2 {padding-left:3.8em;} + div.poem p.indent4 {padding-left:4.6em;} + div.poem p.indent8 {padding-left:6.2em;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} + + .center, .center p {text-align: center;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .padtop {margin-top: 2em;} + .sig1 {display: block; padding-right: 8em; text-align: right;} + .sig2 {display: block; padding-right: 5em; text-align: right;} + .sig3 {display: block; padding-right: 1em; padding-top:.25em; text-align: right;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + div.poem {text-align: center; width: 20em; margin: auto;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em; clear: both;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Women of the Confederacy, by J. L. Underwood + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Women of the Confederacy + +Author: J. L. Underwood + +Release Date: August 4, 2011 [EBook #36969] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMEN OF THE CONFEDERACY *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' title='' width='456' height='394' /> +<br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<h1>THE WOMEN OF THE <br />CONFEDERACY</h1> +<p>In which is presented the heroism of the women of the Confederacy +with accounts of their trials during the War and the +period of Reconstruction, with their ultimate triumph over +adversity. Their motives and their achievements as told +by writers and orators now preserved in permanent form.</p> +<p class='larger padtop'>BY<br /> +REV. J. L. UNDERWOOD</p> +<p>Master of Arts, Mercer University, Captain and Chaplain +in the Confederate Army</p> +</div> +<p class='padtop smaller center'><span class='smcap'>New York and Washington</span><br /> +THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY<br /> +1906</p> +<p class='padtop center'>Copyright, 1906<br /> +By<br /> +J. L. UNDERWOOD</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' title='' width='393' height='514' /> +<br /> +</div> +<h2>DEDICATION</h2> +<p>To the memory of Mrs. <span class='smcap'>Elizabeth Thomas Curry</span>, +whose remains rest under the live oaks at Bainbridge, +Ga., who cheerfully gave every available member of her +family to the Confederate Cause, and with her own +hands made their gray jackets, and who gave to the +author her Christian patriot daughter, who has been the +companion, the joy and the crown of his long and happy +life, this volume is most affectionately dedicated.</p> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CONTENTS' id='CONTENTS'></a> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td /> + <td> </td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><i>Page</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Symposium of Tributes to Confederate Women</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_SYMPOSIUM_OF_TRIBUTES_TO_CONFEDERATE_WOM'>19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Varina Jefferson Davis</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_VARINA_JEFFERSON_DAVIS'>19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of President Jefferson Davis</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_PRESIDENT_JEFFERSON_DAVIS'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of a Wounded Soldier</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_A_WOUNDED_SOLDIER'>21</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of a Federal Private Soldier</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_A_FEDERAL_PRIVATE_SOLDIER'>21</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Joseph E. Johnston’s Tribute</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JOSEPH_E_JOHNSTONS_TRIBUTE'>22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Stonewall Jackson’s Female Soldiers</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#STONEWALL_JACKSONS_FEMALE_SOLDIERS'>23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Gen. J. B. Gordon’s Tribute</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GEN_J_B_GORDONS_TRIBUTE'>23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>General Forrest’s Tribute</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GENERAL_FORRESTS_TRIBUTE'>24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of Gen. M. C. Butler</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_M_C_BUTLER'>24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of Gen. Marcus J. Wright</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_MARCUS_J_WRIGHT'>26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of Dr. J. L. M. Curry</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_DR_J_L_M_CURRY'>26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Address of Col. W. R. Aylett Before Pickett Camp</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ADDRESS_OF_COL_W_R_AYLETT_BEFORE_PICKETT_CAMP'>28</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Gen. Bradley T. Johnson’s Speech at the Dedication of South’s Museum</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GEN_BRADLEY_T_JOHNSONS_SPEECH_AT_THE_DEDICATION_OF'>28</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Governor C. T. O’Ferrall’s Tribute</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GOVERNOR_C_T_OFERRALLS_TRIBUTE'>30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of Judge J. H. Reagan, of Texas, Postmaster-General of Confederate States</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_J_H_REAGAN_OF_TEXAS_POSTMASTERGEN'>32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>General Freemantle (of the British Army)</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GENERAL_FREEMANTLE_OF_THE_BRITISH_ARMY'>33</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sherman’s “Tough Set”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SHERMANS_TOUGH_SET'>33</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of General Buell</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_GENERAL_BUELL'>34</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tribute of Judge Alton B. Parker, of New York</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_ALTON_B_PARKER_OF_NEW_YORK'>34</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Heroic Men and Women (President Roosevelt)</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HEROIC_MEN_AND_WOMEN'>35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Women of the South</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WOMEN_OF_THE_SOUTH'>36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Eulogy on Confederate Women</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#EULOGY_ON_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN_BY_J_L_UNDERWOOD_DELIV'>41</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Their Work</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_THEIR_WORK'>70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Introduction to Woman’s Work</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INTRODUCTION_TO_WOMANS_WORK'>70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Southern Woman’s Song</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_SOUTHERN_WOMANS_SONG'>71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Ladies of Richmond</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_LADIES_OF_RICHMOND'>72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Hospital After Seven Pines</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_HOSPITAL_AFTER_SEVEN_PINES'>73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Burial of Latane</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BURIAL_OF_LATANE'>73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Making Clothes for the Soldiers</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MAKING_CLOTHES_FOR_THE_SOLDIERS'>74</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Ingenuity of Southern Women</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_INGENUITY_OF_SOUTHERN_WOMEN'>75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Lee and the Socks</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_LEE_AND_THE_SOCKS'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Fitting Out a Soldier</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FITTING_OUT_A_SOLDIER'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Thimble Brigade</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_THIMBLE_BRIGADE'>79</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Noble Women of Richmond</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#NOBLE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND'>80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>From Matoaca Gay’s Articles in the <i>Philadelphia Times</i></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FROM_MATOACA_GAYS_ARTICLES_IN_THE_PHILADELPHIA_TIM'>81</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Women of Richmond</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND'>82</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Two Georgia Heroines</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TWO_GEORGIA_HEROINES'>83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Seven Days’ Battle</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_SEVEN_DAYS_BATTLE'>83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Death of Mrs. Sarah K. Rowe, “The Soldiers’ Friend”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DEATH_OF_MRS_SARAH_K_ROWE_THE_SOLDIERS_FRIEND'>92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“You Wait”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#YOU_WAIT'>93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Annandale—Two Heroines of Mississippi</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ANNANDALETWO_HEROINES_OF_MISSISSIPPI'>95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Plantation Heroine</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_PLANTATION_HEROINE'>98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Lucy Ann Cox</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LUCY_ANN_COX'>100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“One of Them Lees”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ONE_OF_THEM_LEES'>101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Southern Women in the War Between the States</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SOUTHERN_WOMEN_IN_THE_WAR_BETWEEN_THE_STATES'>101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Mother of the Confederacy</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_MOTHER_OF_THE_CONFEDERACY'>104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“The Great Eastern”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_GREAT_EASTERN'>105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Cordial for the Brave</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CORDIAL_FOR_THE_BRAVE'>106</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Hospital Work and Women’s Delicacy</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HOSPITAL_WORK_AND_WOMENS_DELICACY'>107</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Wayside Home at Millen</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_WAYSIDE_HOME_AT_MILLEN'>108</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Noble Girl</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_NOBLE_GIRL'>110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Good Samaritan</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_GOOD_SAMARITAN'>110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Female Relatives Visit the Hospitals</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FEMALE_RELATIVES_VISIT_THE_HOSPITALS'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mania for Marriage</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MANIA_FOR_MARRIAGE'>116</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Government Clerkships</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GOVERNMENT_CLERKSHIPS'>117</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Schools in War Times</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SCHOOLS_IN_WAR_TIMES'>118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Humanity in the Hospitals</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HUMANITY_IN_THE_HOSPITALS'>118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Davis and the Federal Prisoner</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_DAVIS_AND_THE_FEDERAL_PRISONER'>119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Socks that Never Wore Out</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SOCKS_THAT_NEVER_WORE_OUT'>120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Burial of Aunt Matilda</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BURIAL_OF_AUNT_MATILDA'>120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“Illegant Pair of Hands”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ILLEGANT_PAIR_OF_HANDS'>121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Gun-boat “Richmond”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_GUNBOAT_RICHMOND'>122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Captain Sally Tompkins</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CAPTAIN_SALLY_TOMPKINS'>124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Angel of the Hospital</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_ANGEL_OF_THE_HOSPITAL'>125</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Their Trials</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_THEIR_TRIALS'>127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Old Maids</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#OLD_MAIDS'>127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Mother’s Letter</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_MOTHERS_LETTER'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Tom and his Young Master</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TOM_AND_HIS_YOUNG_MASTER'>130</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“I Knew You Would Come”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_KNEW_YOU_WOULD_COME'>131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Letters from the Poor at Home</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LETTERS_FROM_THE_POOR_AT_HOME'>132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Life in Richmond During the War</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LIFE_IN_RICHMOND_DURING_THE_WAR'>133</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Women of New Orleans</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS'>140</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“Incorrigible Little Devil”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INCORRIGIBLE_LITTLE_DEVIL'>141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Battle of the Handkerchiefs</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_HANDKERCHIEFS'>142</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Women of New Orleans and Vicksburg Prisoners</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS_AND_VICKSBURG_PRISONERS'>144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“It Don’t Trouble Me”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IT_DONT_TROUBLE_ME'>147</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Savage War in the Valley</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SAVAGE_WAR_IN_THE_VALLEY'>147</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Robert Turner, Woodstock, Va.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_ROBERT_TURNER_WOODSTOCK_VA'>148</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>High Price of Needles And Thread</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HIGH_PRICE_OF_NEEDLES_AND_THREAD'>149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Despair at Home—Heroism at the Front</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DESPAIR_AT_HOMEHEROISM_AT_THE_FRONT'>151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Old Drake’s Territory</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_OLD_DRAKES_TERRITORY'>152</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Refugee in Richmond</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_REFUGEE_IN_RICHMOND'>154</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Desolations of War</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DESOLATIONS_OF_WAR'>155</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Death of a Soldier</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DEATH_OF_A_SOLDIER'>156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Henrietta E. Lee’s Letter To General Hunter</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_HENRIETTA_E_LEES_LETTER_TO_GENERAL_HUNTER_ON_T'>159</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sherman’s Bummers</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SHERMANS_BUMMERS'>161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Reminiscences of the War Times—a Letter</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#REMINISCENCES_OF_THE_WAR_TIMESA_LETTER'>163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Aunt Myra and the Hoe-cake</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#AUNT_MYRA_AND_THE_HOECAKE'>164</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“The Corn Woman”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_CORN_WOMAN'>166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>General Atkins at Chapel Hill</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GENERAL_ATKINS_AT_CHAPEL_HILL'>167</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Two Specimen Cases of Desertion</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TWO_SPECIMEN_CASES_OF_DESERTION'>167</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sherman in South Carolina</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SHERMAN_IN_SOUTH_CAROLINA'>171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Old North State’s Trials</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#OLD_NORTH_STATES_TRIALS'>173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sherman in North Carolina</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SHERMAN_IN_NORTH_CAROLINA'>175</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Vance’s Trunk—General Palmer’s Gallantry</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_VANCES_TRUNKGENERAL_PALMERS_GALLANTRY'>177</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Eventful Third of April</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_EVENTFUL_THIRD_OF_APRIL'>178</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Federals Enter Richmond</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_FEDERALS_ENTER_RICHMOND'>181</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Somebody’s Darling</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SOMEBODYS_DARLING'>183</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Their Pluck</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_THEIR_PLUCK'>185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Female Recruiting Officers</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FEMALE_RECRUITING_OFFICERS'>185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Susan Roy Carter</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_SUSAN_ROY_CARTER'>186</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>J. L. M. Curry’s Women Constituents</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#J_L_M_CURRYS_WOMEN_CONSTITUENTS'>191</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Nora McCarthy</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#NORA_MCCARTHY'>192</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Women in the Battle of Gainesville, Florida</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WOMEN_IN_THE_BATTLE_OF_GAINESVILLE_FLA'>194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“She Would Send Ten More”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SHE_WOULD_SEND_TEN_MORE'>195</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Women at Vicksburg</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WOMEN_AT_VICKSBURG'>196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“Mother, Tell Him Not To Come”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MOTHER_TELL_HIM_NOT_TO_COME'>198</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Brave Woman in Decatur, Georgia</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BRAVE_WOMAN_IN_DECATUR_GA'>201</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Giving Warning To Mosby</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GIVING_WARNING_TO_MOSBY'>204</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“Ain’t You Ashamed of You’uns?”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#AINT_YOU_ASHAMED_OF_YOUUNS'>211</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>False Teeth</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FALSE_TEETH'>212</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Emma Sansom</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#EMMA_SANSOM'>213</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>President Roosevelt’s Mother and Grandmother</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#PRESIDENT_ROOSEVELTS_MOTHER_AND_GRANDMOTHER'>215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Little Girl at Chancellorsville</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_LITTLE_GIRL_AT_CHANCELLORSVILLE'>217</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Saved Her Hams</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SAVED_HER_HAMS'>217</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Heroism of a Widow</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HEROISM_OF_A_WIDOW'>218</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Winchester Women</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WINCHESTER_WOMEN'>219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sparta in Mississippi</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SPARTA_IN_MISSISSIPPI'>219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“Woman’s Devotion”—A Winchester Heroine</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WOMANS_DEVOTIONA_WINCHESTER_HEROINE'>220</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Spoken Like Cornelia</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SPOKEN_LIKE_CORNELIA'>222</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Specimen Mother</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_SPECIMEN_MOTHER'>223</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mrs. Rooney</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_ROONEY'>224</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Warning by a Brave Girl</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WARNING_BY_A_BRAVE_GIRL'>226</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Plucky Girl With a Pistol</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_PLUCKY_GIRL_WITH_A_PISTOL'>227</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Mosby’s Men And Two Noble Girls</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MOSBYS_MEN_AND_TWO_NOBLE_GIRLS'>228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Spartan Dame and her Young</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_SPARTAN_DAME_AND_HER_YOUNG'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Singing Under Fire</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SINGING_UNDER_FIRE'>231</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Woman’s Last Word</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_WOMANS_LAST_WORD'>232</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Two Mississippi Girls Hold Yankees at Pistol Point</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TWO_MISSISSIPPI_GIRLS_HOLD_YANKEES_AT_PISTOL_POINT'>233</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“War Women” of Petersburg</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WAR_WOMEN_OF_PETERSBURG'>234</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>John Allen’s Cow</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JOHN_ALLENS_COW'>235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Family That Had No Luck</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_FAMILY_THAT_HAD_NO_LUCK'>235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Brave Women at Resaca, Georgia</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BRAVE_WOMEN_AT_RESACA_GA'>237</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Woman’s Hair</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_WOMANS_HAIR'>238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Breach of Etiquette</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_BREACH_OF_ETIQUETTE'>240</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Lola Sanchez’s Ride</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LOLA_SANCHEZS_RIDE'>241</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Rebel Sock</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_REBEL_SOCK_A_TRUE_EPISODE_IN_SEWARDS_RAIDS_ON_'>244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Their Cause</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THEIR_CAUSE'>246</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Introductory Note to Their Cause</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INTRODUCTORY_NOTE_TO_THEIR_CAUSE'>246</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“When This Cruel War Is Over”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WHEN_THIS_CRUEL_WAR_IS_OVER'>246</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Northern Men Leaders of Disunion</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#NORTHERN_MEN_LEADERS_OF_DISUNION'>247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Union vs. A Union</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_UNION_VS_A_UNION'>248</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Northern States Secede From the Union</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_NORTHERN_STATES_SECEDE_FROM_THE_UNION'>253</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Frenzied Finance and the War of 1861</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FRENZIED_FINANCE_AND_THE_WAR_OF_1861'>255</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Right of Secession</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_RIGHT_OF_SECESSION'>260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Cause Not Lost</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_CAUSE_NOT_LOST'>262</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Slavery as the South Saw It</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SLAVERY_AS_THE_SOUTH_SAW_IT'>262</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Vindication of Southern Cause</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VINDICATION_OF_SOUTHERN_CAUSE'>263</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Northern View of Secession</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#NORTHERN_VIEW_OF_SECESSION'>266</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Major J. Scheibert on Confederate History</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MAJOR_J_SCHEIBERT_OF_THE_PRUSSIAN_ARMY_ON_CONFEDER'>268</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mater Rediviva</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_MATER_REDIVIVA'>271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Introductory Note</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INTRODUCTORY_NOTE'>271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Empty Sleeve</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_EMPTY_SLEEVE'>272</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Old Hoopskirt</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_OLD_HOOPSKIRT'>273</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Political Crimes of the Nineteenth Century</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_POLITICAL_CRIMES_OF_THE_NINETEENTH_CENTURY'>276</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Brave to the Last</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BRAVE_TO_THE_LAST'>280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Sallie Durham</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SALLIE_DURHAM'>281</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Negro and the Miracle</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_NEGRO_AND_THE_MIRACLE'>283</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Georgia Refugees</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#GEORGIA_REFUGEES'>284</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Negroes And New Freedom</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_NEGROES_AND_NEW_FREEDOM'>286</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Confederate Museum in the Capital of the Confederacy</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_CONFEDERATE_MUSEUM_IN_THE_CAPITAL_OF_THE_CONFE'>287</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Federal Decoration Day—Adoption from Our Memorial</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#FEDERAL_DECORATION_DAYADOPTION_FROM_OUR_MEMORIAL'>290</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Daughters and the United Daughters of the Confederacy</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_DAUGHTERS_AND_THE_UNITED_DAUGHTERS_OF_THE_CONF'>291</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A Daughter’s Plea</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_DAUGHTERS_PLEA'>293</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Home for Confederate Women</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HOME_FOR_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN'>297</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Jefferson Davis Monument</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JEFFERSON_DAVIS_MONUMENT'>297</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Reciprocal Slavery</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#RECIPROCAL_SLAVERY'>299</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Barbara Frietchie</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#BARBARA_FRIETCHIE'>302</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Social Equality Between the Races</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SOCIAL_EQUALITY_BETWEEN_THE_RACES'>304</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Dream of Race Superiority</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DREAM_OF_RACE_SUPERIORITY'>308</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>Roosevelt at Lee’s Monument</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ROOSEVELT_AT_LEES_MONUMENT'>311</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='PREFACE' id='PREFACE'></a> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +</div> +<p>It is remarkable that after a lapse of forty years the +people of this country, from the President down, are +manifesting a more lively interest than ever in the history +of the women of the Confederacy. Bodily affliction only +has prevented the author from rendering at an earlier +date the service to their memory and the cause of the +South which he feels that he has done in preparing this +volume. His friends, Dr. J. Wm. Jones, and the lamented +Dr. J. L. M. Curry, of Richmond, Va., made the +suggestion of this work several years ago. They both +rendered material assistance in the preparation of the lecture +which appears in this volume as the author’s tribute +in the Symposium, and to Doctor Jones the author is +greatly indebted for the practical brotherly assistance he +has continued to render.</p> +<p>Thanks are due to the Virginia State Librarian, Mr. +C. D. Kennedy, and his assistants, for kind attentions. +The author is under obligations to the lady members of +the Confederate Memorial Literary Society of Richmond, +especially to Mrs. Lizzie Carey Daniels, Corresponding +Secretary, and Mrs. Katherine C. Stiles, Vice-Regent of +the Georgia Department of the Confederate Museum. +In many ways great and valuable service was kindly +rendered by Miss Isabel Maury, the intelligent House +Regent of the Museum. To his old Commander, Gen. +S. D. Lee, now General Commander of Confederate +Veterans, he is under obligation for his practical help; +also to Gen. Marcus J. Wright. In making selections +from the works of others, great pains have been taken +to give proper credit for all matter quoted. The author’s +home has been for more than thirty years his delightful +Pearland Cottage, in the suburbs of Camilla, Ga. On +account of his afflictions he has moved his family to Blakeley, +Ga., while he himself may remain some time for +medical treatment here in Richmond. The book is sent +forth from an invalid’s room with a fervent prayer that +it may do good in all sections of our beloved country. +Much of the work has been done under severe pain and +great weakness, and special indulgence is asked for any +defects.</p> +<p class='sig3'><span class='smcap'>J. L. Underwood.</span></p> +<p class='sig1'>Kellam’s Hospital,<br /> + Richmond, Va.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='INTRODUCTION_BY_REV_DR_J_B_HAWTHORNE' id='INTRODUCTION_BY_REV_DR_J_B_HAWTHORNE'></a> +<h2>INTRODUCTION BY REV. DR. J. B. HAWTHORNE</h2> +</div> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Richmond, Va.</span>, <i>January 30th, 1906</i>.</p> +<p>Only within the last two years have I had the opportunity +to cultivate an intimate personal acquaintance with +Rev. J. L. Underwood, but as the greater part of +our lives have been spent in the States of Georgia and +Alabama, I have been quite familiar with his career +through a period which embraces a half century. Wherever +he is known he is highly esteemed for his intellectual +gifts and culture, his fluency and eloquence in speech, his +genial manner, his high moral and Christian ideals, and +his unflinching fealty to what he believes to be his country’s +welfare. No man who followed the Confederate +flag had a clearer understanding or a more profound appreciation +of what he was fighting for. No man watched +and studied more carefully the progress of the contest. +No man interpreted more accurately the spirit, purposes, +and conduct of the contending armies. When the struggle +closed no man foresaw with more distinctness what +was in the womb of the future for the defeated South. +His cultivated intellect, his high moral and Christian +character, his personal observations and experiences, his +residence and travels in Europe, his extensive acquaintance +and correspondence with public men, North and +South, and his present devotion to the interests of our +united country, render him pre-eminently qualified for +the task of delineating some features of the greatest war +of modern times.</p> +<p>I have been permitted to read the manuscript of Mr. +Underwood’s book, entitled, “The Women of the Confederacy.” +I do not hesitate to pronounce it a valuable +and enduring contribution to our country’s history. +There is not a page in it that is dull or commonplace. +No man who starts to read it will lay it aside until he has +reached the conclusion of it. The author’s definitions of +the relations of each sovereign State to the Federal Union +and of her rights under the Federal Constitution are exact. +His argument in support of the Constitutional right +of secession amounts to a demonstration. His interpretation +of the long series of political events which drove +the South into secession is clear, just and convincing. +His tributes to the patriotism and valor of the Southern +women are brilliant and thrilling without the semblance +of extravagance. His description of the vandalism of +Sherman’s army in its march through Georgia and South +Carolina cannot fail to kindle a flame of indignation in +the heart of any civilized man who reads it. His anecdotes, +both humorous and pathetic, are well chosen.</p> +<p>The section of this book which relates most directly to +“The Women of the Confederacy,” including Mr. Underwood’s +tribute in the Symposium to their memory, is +by far the most thrilling and meritorious part of it. Into +this the author has put his best material, his deepest +emotions, his finest sentiments, and his most eloquent +words. To the conduct of Southern women in that unprecedented +ordeal, history furnishes no parallel. +Through many generations to come it will be the favorite +theme of the poets and orators.</p> +<p>I need no prophetic gift to see that this book will be +immensely popular and extensively circulated. Its aged +and afflicted author has done a work in writing it which +deserves the gratitude and applause of his fellow countrymen.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>J. B. Hawthorne.</span></p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='INTRODUCTION_BY_REV_DR_J_WM_JONES' id='INTRODUCTION_BY_REV_DR_J_WM_JONES'></a> +<h2>INTRODUCTION BY REV. DR. J. WM. JONES</h2> +</div> +<p class='center'>J. WM. JONES,<br /> +<i>Secretary and Superintendent</i>,<br /> +<i>Confederate Memorial Association</i>,<br /> +109 N. 29th Street.</p> +<p class='sig3'><span class='smcap'>Richmond, Va.</span>,<br /> + <i>January 23, 1906</i>.</p> +<p>I have carefully examined the manuscript of Mr. J. L. +Underwood on “The Women of the Confederacy” and I +take great pleasure in saying that in my judgment it is a +book of very great interest and value, and if properly +published and pushed I have no doubt that it would have +a very wide sale.</p> +<p>Mr. Underwood has given a great deal of time to the +collecting of material for his book, and has had great +advantages in doing so in having had free access to the +libraries of Richmond, and his book abounds in touching +and thrilling incidents, which present as no other book +that has been published does the true story of our Confederate +women, their sufferings and privations; their +heroism and efficiency in promoting the Confederate +cause. I do not hesitate to say that it is worthy of publication, +and of wide circulation.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>J. Wm. Jones.</span></p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='AUTHORS_INTRODUCTION' id='AUTHORS_INTRODUCTION'></a> +<h2>AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION</h2> +</div> +<p>One of the last things the great Henry W. Grady said, +was: “If I die, I die serving the South, the land I love +so well. My father died fighting for it. I am proud +to die speaking for it.” The author of this volume +fought for the South and is now so afflicted that he can +no longer hope to speak for the South, but he will be +happy to die writing for it. Not half has yet been told of +the best part of the South, her women.</p> +<p>The Apostle John, on finishing his gospel story of +Christ, said: “And there are many other things which +Jesus did, the which if they could be written every one, I +suppose that even the world itself could not contain the +books that should be written.” While at work preparing +this volume, Mr. C. D. Kennedy, the courteous State +librarian of Virginia, said to the writer it would “take a +whole library to tell all about the Confederate women.” +As in the life of Christ, only a small part can be told; +and only a small part is necessary.</p> +<p>It is remarkable that the life of Christ was the most +tragic, thrilling, and beneficent life the world ever saw. +And yet it is all told in four booklets of simple incidents. +Those four little books have been worth more to the +world than all other books combined. Neither is there +any system in the gospel record. There was no system +in Christ’s life. It could not be told in a consecutive +biography nor in a scientific treatise. Science and system +all fail when it comes to telling of a life of such love and +labor and sorrow.</p> +<p>It is not sacrilegious to say the same thing when we +come to tell of the heroic lives, the courage, the trials, +the work of the Confederate women. We can only give +incidents, and these incidents tell all the rest.</p> +<p>Fortunately the author, while a patient in a Richmond +hospital, has been strong enough to search the libraries +of the city and gather material scattered among the Confederate +records already made. With them and his own +original sketches, it is hoped that a contribution of some +value has been made to a good cause. The story of the +Southern women is worth studying; and the author tells +in his eulogy his estimate of their great virtues. Then +he shows that his estimate is not from partiality or ignorance +by giving a symposium of tributes from others, +some from the North and some from Europe.</p> +<p>It may surprise some that so much attention is given +to holding up the righteousness of the cause in which +these women labored and suffered. Why not? The +great cause ennobled them, and they adorned the Confederate +cause. The truth must be told from both directions. +This is the ground idea of this humble volume.</p> +<p>It is hoped that it will fill a good place in our Southern +literature, suggesting further investigation on the same +line. It has been a work of love, a comfort to him in +the days of very fearful bodily affliction. He is conscious +of the feebleness of his work and much indulgence is +asked for.</p> +<p>The author deems his subject a consecrated theme. +And he rejoices that he could labor at his task amid the +consecrated memories of dear old Richmond, where he +has had the assistance and the smiles of encouragement +from the noble women who continue to keep guard over +Hollywood and Oakwood Cemeteries, the Soldiers’ +Home, and the Home for Confederate Women, and keep +vestal watch in the Confederate Museum.</p> +<p>Not a line is written in sectional prejudice or tainted +by a touch of hate. The author was a Confederate +soldier. He hates sham, injustice, falsehood, and hypocrisy +everywhere, but he loves his fellow men, and still +bears the old soldier’s respect and warm hand for the +true soldiers who fought on the other side. The barbarities +of bummers and brutal commanders must be repudiated +by us all that the honor of true soldiers like +McClellan, Rosecrans, Thomas, and Buell, on the one +side, and Lee, Jackson and Johnston on the other, may +stand forth in its true light.</p> +<p>When our broad-brained and big-hearted President +Roosevelt has just stepped down from the White House +to tell on Capitol Hill at Richmond and at the feet of +the monuments of Lee and Jackson, his great admiration +for the Confederate soldiers and the Confederate women, +it is time for us all to take a fresh look at their heroic +lives.</p> +<p class='sig3'><span class='smcap'>J. L. Underwood.</span></p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Kellam’s Hospital</span>,<br /> + <i>Richmond, Va., April 1st, 1906</i>.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_SYMPOSIUM_OF_TRIBUTES_TO_CONFEDERATE_WOM' id='CHAPTER_I_SYMPOSIUM_OF_TRIBUTES_TO_CONFEDERATE_WOM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I +<span class='chsub'> <br />SYMPOSIUM OF TRIBUTES TO CONFEDERATE WOMEN</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='MRS_VARINA_JEFFERSON_DAVIS' id='MRS_VARINA_JEFFERSON_DAVIS'></a> +<h3>MRS. VARINA JEFFERSON DAVIS</h3> +</div> +<p>From her invalid chair in New York the revered and +beloved wife of the great chieftain of the Confederacy +writes a personal letter to the author of this volume, from +which he takes the liberty of publishing the following +extract. There is something peculiarly touching in this +testimonial which will be prized and kept as a precious +heirloom throughout our Southern land:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='center'><span class='smcap'>Hotel Gerard</span>,<br /> +<i>123 West Forty-fourth Street, New York.</i><br /> +<i>October 25, 1905.</i></p> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear Mr. Underwood</span>:</p> +<p>* * * I do not know in all history a finer subject +than the heroism of our Southern women, God bless +them. I have never forgotten our dear Mrs. Robt. E. +Lee, sitting in her arm chair, where she was chained by +the most agonizing form of rheumatism, cutting with her +dear aching hands soldiers’ gloves from waste pieces of +their Confederate uniforms furnished to her from the +government shops. These she persuaded her girl visitors +to sew into gloves for the soldiers. Certainly these +scraps were of immense use to all those who could get +them, for I do not know how many children’s jackets +which kept the soldiers’ children warm, I had pieced out +of these scraps by a poor woman who sat in the basement +of the mansion and made them for them.</p> +<p>The ladies picked their old silk pieces into fragments, +and spun them into gloves, stockings, and scarfs for the +soldiers’ necks, etc.; cut up their house linen and scraped +it into lint; tore up their sheets and rolled them into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +bandages; and toasted sweet potato slices brown, and +made substitutes for coffee. They put two tablespoonfuls +of sorghum molasses into the water boiled for coffee instead +of sugar, and used none other for their little children +and families. They covered their old shoes with +old kid gloves or with pieces of silk and their little feet +looked charming and natty in them. In the country they +made their own candles, and one lady sent me three cakes +of sweet soap and a small jar of soft soap made from the +skin, bones and refuse bits of hams boiled for her family. +Another sent the most exquisite unbleached flax +thread, of the smoothest and finest quality, spun by herself. +I have never been able to get such thread again. I +am still quite feeble, so I must close with the hope that +your health will steadily improve and the assurance that +I am,</p> +<p class='sig1'>Yours sincerely,<br /></p> +<p class='sig2'><span class='smcap'>V. Jefferson Davis</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_PRESIDENT_JEFFERSON_DAVIS' id='TRIBUTE_OF_PRESIDENT_JEFFERSON_DAVIS'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF PRESIDENT JEFFERSON DAVIS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Dr. Craven’s Prison Life of Jefferson Davis.]</p> +<p>If asked for his sublimest ideal of what women should +be in time of war, he said he would point to the dear +women of his people as he had seen them during the recent +struggle. “The Spartan mother sent her boy, bidding +him return with honor, either carrying his shield or +on it. The women of the South sent forth their sons, +directing them to return with victory; to return with +wounds disabling them from further service, or never to +return at all. All they had was flung into the contest—beauty, +grace, passion, ornaments. The exquisite frivolities +so dear to the sex were cast aside; their songs, if +they had any heart to sing, were patriotic; their trinkets +were flung into the crucible; the carpets from their floors +were portioned out as blankets to the suffering soldiers +of their cause; women bred to every refinement of +luxury wore homespuns made by their own hands. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +When materials for army balloons were wanted the richest +silk dresses were sent in and there was only competition +to secure their acceptance. As nurses for the sick, +as encouragers and providers for the combatants, as +angels of charity and mercy, adopting as their own all +children made orphans in defence of their homes, as +patient and beautiful household deities, accepting every +sacrifice with unconcern, and lightening the burdens of +war by every art, blandishment, and labor proper to their +sphere, the dear women of his people deserved to take +rank with the highest heroines of the grandest days of +the greatest centuries.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_A_WOUNDED_SOLDIER' id='TRIBUTE_OF_A_WOUNDED_SOLDIER'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF A WOUNDED SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p>A beautiful Southern girl, on her daily mission of love +and mercy in one of our hospitals, asked a badly wounded +soldier boy what she could do for him. He replied: “I +am greatly obliged to you, but it is too late for you to do +anything for me. I am so badly wounded that I can’t +live long.”</p> +<p>“Will you not let me pray for you?” said the sweet +girl. “I hope that I am one of the Lord’s daughters, +and I would like to ask Him to help you.”</p> +<p>Looking intently into her beautiful face he replied: +“Yes, do pray at once, and ask the Lord to let me be his +son-in-law.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_A_FEDERAL_PRIVATE_SOLDIER' id='TRIBUTE_OF_A_FEDERAL_PRIVATE_SOLDIER'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF A FEDERAL PRIVATE SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p>There is no more popular living hero of the Federal +army of the war between the States than Corporal Tanner, +who is Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic. +He left both legs on a Southern battlefield and +is a universal favorite of the Confederate Veterans. The +following is an extract from his speech at the Wheeler +Memorial in Atlanta, Ga., in March, 1906:</p> +<p>“The Union forces would have achieved success, in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +my opinion, eighteen months sooner than they did if it +had not been for the women of the South. Why do I say +this? Because it is of world-wide knowledge that men +never carried cause forward to the dread arbitrament +of the battlefield, who were so intensely supported by the +prayers and by the efforts of the gentler sex, as were you +men of the South. Every mother’s son of you knew that +if you didn’t keep exact step to the music of Dixie and +the Bonny Blue Flag, if you did not tread the very front +line of battle when the contest was on, knew in short +that if you returned home in aught but soldierly honor, +that the very fires of hell would not scorch and consume +your unshriven souls as you would be scorched and consumed +by the scorn and contempt of your womanhood.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='JOSEPH_E_JOHNSTONS_TRIBUTE' id='JOSEPH_E_JOHNSTONS_TRIBUTE'></a> +<h3>JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON’S TRIBUTE</h3> +</div> +<p>As to the charge of want of loyalty or zeal in the war, +I assert, from as much opportunity for observation as +any individual had, that no people ever displayed so +much, under such circumstances, and with so little flagging, +for so long a time continuously. This was proved +by the long service of the troops without pay and under +exposure to such hardships, from the cause above mentioned, +as modern troops have rarely endured; by the +voluntary contributions of food and clothing sent to the +army from every district that furnished a regiment; by +the general and continued submission of the people to +the tyranny of the impressment system as practiced—such +a tyranny as, I believe, no other high-spirited people +ever endured—and by the sympathy and aid given in +every house to all professing to belong to the army, or +to be on the way to join it. And this spirit continued not +only after all hope of success had died but after the final +confession of defeat by their military commanders.</p> +<p>But, even if the men of the South had not been zealous +in the cause, the patriotism of their mothers and wives +and sisters would have inspired them with zeal or shamed +them into its imitation. The women of the South exhibited +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +that feeling wherever it could be exercised: in +the army, by distributing clothing with their own hands; +at the railroad stations and their own homes, by feeding +the marching soldiers; and, above all, in the hospitals, +where they rivaled the Sisters of Charity. I am happy +in the belief that their devoted patriotism and gentle +charity are to be richly rewarded.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='STONEWALL_JACKSONS_FEMALE_SOLDIERS' id='STONEWALL_JACKSONS_FEMALE_SOLDIERS'></a> +<h3>STONEWALL JACKSON’S FEMALE SOLDIERS</h3> +</div> +<p>In the southern part of Virginia the women had become +almost shoeless and sent a petition to General Jackson +to grant the detail of a shoemaker to make shoes for +them. Here is his reply, in a letter of November 14, +1862: “Be assured that I feel a deep and abiding interest +in our female soldiers. They are patriots in the truest +sense of the word, and I more and more admire them.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GEN_J_B_GORDONS_TRIBUTE' id='GEN_J_B_GORDONS_TRIBUTE'></a> +<h3>GEN. J. B. GORDON’S TRIBUTE</h3> +</div> +<p>Back of the armies, on the farms, in the towns and +cities, the fingers of Southern women were busy knitting +socks and sewing seams of coarse trousers and gray +jackets for the soldiers at the front.</p> +<p>From Mrs. Lee and her daughters to the humblest +country matrons and maidens, their busy needles were +stitching, stitching, stitching, day and night. The anxious +commander, General Lee, thanked them for their +efforts to bring greater comfort to the cold feet and +shivering limbs of his half-clad men. He wrote letters +expressing appreciation of the bags of socks and shirts +as they came in. He said he could almost hear, in the +stillness of the night, the needles click as they flew +through the meshes. Every click was a prayer, every +stitch a tear. His tributes were tender and constant to +these glorious women for their labor and sacrifice for +Southern independence.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +<a name='GENERAL_FORRESTS_TRIBUTE' id='GENERAL_FORRESTS_TRIBUTE'></a> +<h3>GENERAL FORREST’S TRIBUTE</h3> +</div> +<p>There is a story told of General Forrest which shows +his opinion of the pluck and devotion of the Southern +women. He was drawing up his men in line of battle +one day, and it was evident that a sharp encounter was +about to take place. Some ladies ran from a house which +happened to stand just in front of his line, and asked him +anxiously, “What shall we do, General, what shall we +do?” Strong in his faith that they only wished to help +in some way, he replied, “I really don’t see that you can +do much, except to stand on stumps, wave your bonnets +and shout, ‘Hurrah, boys.’”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_M_C_BUTLER' id='TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_M_C_BUTLER'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF GEN. M. C. BUTLER</h3> +</div> +<p>Who of those trying days does not recall the shifts +which the Southern people had to adopt to provide for +the sick and wounded: the utilization of barks and herbs +for the concoction of drugs, the preparation of appliances +for hospitals and field infirmaries? What surgeons in +any age or in any war excelled the Confederate surgeons +in skill, ingenuity or courage?</p> +<p>Who does not recall the sleepless and patient vigilance, +the heroic fortitude and untiring tenderness of the fair +Southern women in providing articles of comfort and +usefulness for their kindred in the field, preparing with +their dainty hands from their scanty supplies, food and +clothing for the Confederate soldiers; establishing homes +and hospitals for the sick and disabled, and ministering +to their wants with a gentle kindness that alleviated so +much suffering and pain? Do the annals of any country +or of any period furnish higher proofs of self-sacrificing +courage, self-abnegation, and more steadfast devotion +than was exercised by the Southern women during the +whole progress of our desperate struggle? If so, I have +failed to discover it.</p> +<p>The suffering of the men from privations and hunger, +from the wounds of battle and the sickness of camp, were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +mild inconveniences when compared with the anguish of +soul suffered by the women at home, and yet they bore +it all with surpassing heroism. No pen can ever do justice +to their imperishable renown. The shot and shell of +invading armies could not intimidate, nor could the rude +presence of a sometimes ruthless enemy deter their dauntless +souls. To my mind there has been nothing in history +or past experiences comparable to their fortitude, +courage, and devotion. Instances may be cited where the +women of a country battling for its rights and liberties +have sustained themselves under the hardest fate and +made great sacrifices for the cause they loved and the +men they honored and respected, but I challenge comparison +in any period of the world’s history with the sufferings, +anxieties, fidelities, and firmness of the fair, delicate +women of the South during the struggle for Southern +independence and since its disastrous determination. +Disappointed in the failure of a cause for which they had +suffered so much, baffled in the fondest hopes of an +earnest patriotism, impoverished by the iron hand of relentless +war, desolated in their hearts by the cruel fate of +unsuccessful battle, and bereft of the tenderest ties that +bound them to earth, mourning over the most dismal +prospect that ever converted the happiest, fairest land to +waste and desolation, consumed by anxiety and the darkest +forebodings for the future, they have never lowered +the exalted crest of true Southern womanhood, nor pandered +to a sentiment that would compromise with dishonor. +They have found time, amid the want and anxiety +of desolated homes, to keep fresh and green the graves of +their dead soldiers, when thrift and comfort might have +followed cringing and convenient oblivion of the past. +They had the courage to build monuments to their dead, +and work with that beautiful faith and silent energy +which makes kinship to angels, and lights up with the +fire from heaven the restless power of woman’s boundless +capabilities. When men have flagged and faltered, +dallied with dishonor and fallen, the women of the South +have rebuilt the altars of patriotism and relumed the +fires of devotion to country in the hearts of halting manhood. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +They have borne the burden of their own griefs +and vitalized the spirit and firmness of the men.</p> +<p>All honor, all hail, to woman’s matchless achievements, +and thanks, a thousand thanks, for the grand triumph +and priceless example of her devoted heroism. Appropriately +may she have exclaimed:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Here I and Sorrow sit.</p> +<p>This is my throne; let kings come bow to it.”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_MARCUS_J_WRIGHT' id='TRIBUTE_OF_GEN_MARCUS_J_WRIGHT'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF GEN. MARCUS J. WRIGHT</h3> +</div> +<p>I know that it were needless to say that the character +and conduct of the women of the South during our late +war stand out equally with those of any age or country, +and deserve to go down in history as affording an example +of fortitude, bravery, affection and patriotism that +it is impossible to surpass: and I am further proud to +say that the women of the Northern States exhibited in +that war a devotion and patriotism to their country and +its cause deserving of all praise.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_DR_J_L_M_CURRY' id='TRIBUTE_OF_DR_J_L_M_CURRY'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF DR. J. L. M. CURRY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Civil History of the Confederate States, pages 171-174.]</p> +<p>We hear and read much of delicately pampered +“females” in ancient Rome and modern Paris and Newport, +but in the time of which I speak in this Southland +of ours, womanhood was richly and heavily endowed +with duties and occupations and highest social functions, +as wife and mother and neighbor, and these responsibilities +and duties underlay our society in its structure and +permanence as solid foundations. Instead of superficial +adornments and supine inaction, the intellectual sympathies +and interests of these women were large, and they +undertook, with wise and just guidance, the management +of household and farms and servants, leaving the men +free for war and civil government. These noble and +resolute women were the mothers of the Gracchi, of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +men who built up the greatness of the Union and accomplished +the unexampled achievements of the Confederacy. +Knowing no position more exalted and paramount than +that of wife and mother, with the responsibilities which +attach to miniature empire, the training of children and +guidance of slaves, each one was as Caesar would have +had his companion, above reproach and above suspicion; +and whose purity was so prized that a violation of personal +dignity was resented and punished, by all worthy +to be sons and husbands and fathers of such women, with +the death of the violator. “Strength and dignity were +her clothing; she opened her mouth with wisdom, and +the law of kindness was on her tongue. She looked well +to the ways of her household, and she ate not the bread +of idleness. Her children rose up and called her blessed; +her husband also.”</p> +<p>When inequality was threatened and States were to +be degraded to counties, and the South became one great +battlefield, and every citizen was aiding in the terrible +conflict, the mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, with +extraordinary unanimity and fervor, rallied to the support +of their imperilled land. While the older women +from intelligent conviction were ready to sustain the +South, political events and the necessity of confronting +privations, trials, and sorrows developed girlhood into +the maturity and self-reliance of womanhood. Anxious +women with willing hands and loving hearts rushed +eagerly to every place which sickness or destitution or +the ravages of war invade, enduring sacrifices, displaying +unsurpassed fortitude and heroism. Churches were converted +into hospitals or places for making, collecting, and +shipping clothing and needed supplies. Innumerable private +homes adjacent to battlefields were filled with the +sick and wounded. It was not uncommon to see grandmother +and youthful maiden engaged in making socks, +hats, and other needed articles. Untrained, these women +entered the fields of labor with the spirit of Christ, rose +into queenly dignity, and enrolled themselves among the +immortals.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +<a name='ADDRESS_OF_COL_W_R_AYLETT_BEFORE_PICKETT_CAMP' id='ADDRESS_OF_COL_W_R_AYLETT_BEFORE_PICKETT_CAMP'></a> +<h3>ADDRESS OF COL. W. R. AYLETT BEFORE PICKETT CAMP</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 22, page 60.]</p> +<p>I claim for Camp Pickett the paternity of the first of +the public expressions, in the form of a Confederate +woman’s monument. On the 16th day of January, 1890, +in an address made by me, upon the presentation of General +Pickett’s portrait to this camp by Mrs. Jennings, as +my remarks, published in the Richmond <i>Dispatch</i> of the +17th of January, 1890, will show, I urged that steps be +taken to erect a monument to the women of the Southern +Confederacy, and you applauded the suggestion. But +this idea, and the execution of it, is something in which +none of us should claim exclusive glory and ownership. +The monument should be carried not alone upon the +shoulders of the infantry, artillery, cavalry, engineers +and sailors of the Confederacy, but should be urged forward +by the hearts and hands of the whole South. And +wherever a Northern man has a Southern wife (and a +good many Northern men of taste have them) let them +help, too, for God never gave him a nobler or richer +blessing. The place for such a monument, it seems to +me, should be by the side of the Confederate soldier on +Libby Hill. It is not well for a man to be alone, nor +woman either. To place her elsewhere would make a +perpetual stag of him, and a perpetual wall-flower of her. +Companions in glory and suffering, let them go down +the corridors of time side by side, the representatives of +a race of heroes.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GEN_BRADLEY_T_JOHNSONS_SPEECH_AT_THE_DEDICATION_OF' id='GEN_BRADLEY_T_JOHNSONS_SPEECH_AT_THE_DEDICATION_OF'></a> +<h3>GEN. BRADLEY T. JOHNSON’S SPEECH AT THE DEDICATION OF SOUTH’S MUSEUM</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'><i>What Our Women Stood</i></p> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 23, pages 368-370.]</p> +<p>Evil dies, good lives; and the time will come when all +the world will realize that the failure of the Confederacy +was a great misfortune to humanity, and will be the +source of unnumbered woes to liberty. Washington +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +might have failed; Kosciusko and Robert E. Lee did +fail; but I believe history will award a higher place to +them, unsuccessful, than to Suwarrow and to Grant, victorious. +This great and noble cause, the principles of +which I have attempted to formulate for you, was defended +with a genius and a chivalry of men and women +never equalled by any race. My heart melts now at the +memory of those days.</p> +<p>Just realize it: There is not a hearth and home in Virginia +that has not heard the sound of hostile cannon; +there is not a family which has not buried kin slain in +battle. Of all the examples of that heroic time; of all +figures that will live in the music of the poet or the +pictures of the painter, the one that stands in the foreground, +the one that will be glorified with the halo of the +heroine, is the woman—mother, sister, lover—who gave +her life and heart to the cause. And the woman and girl, +remote from cities and towns, back in the woods, away +from railways or telegraph.</p> +<p>Thomas Nelson Page has given us a picture of her in +his story of “Darby.” I thank him for “Darby Stanly.” +I knew the boy and loved him well, for I have seen him +and his cousins on the march, in camp, and on the battlefield, +lying in ranks, stark, with his face to the foe and +his musket grasped in his cold hands. I can recall what +talk there was at a “meetin’” about the “Black Republicans” +coming down here to interfere with us, and how +we “warn’t goin’ to ’low it,” and how the boys would +square their shoulders to see if the girls were looking at +’em, and how the girls would preen their new muslins +and calicoes, and see if the boys were “noticen’,” and how +by Tuesday news came that Captain Thornton was forming +his company at the court-house, and how the mother +packed up his little “duds” in her boy’s school satchel and +tied it on his back, and kissed him and bade him good-bye, +and watched him, as well as she could see, as he +went down the walk to the front gate, and as he turned +into the “big road,” and as he got to the corner, turned +round and took off his hat and swung it around his head, +and then disappeared out of her life forever. For, after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +Cold Harbor, his body could never be found nor his +grave identified, though a dozen saw him die. And then, +for days and for weeks and for months, alone, the mother +lived this lonely life, waiting for news. The war had +taken her only son, and she was a widow; but from that +day to this, no human being has ever heard a word of +repining from her lips. Those who suffer most complain +least.</p> +<p>Or, I recall that story of Bishop-General Polk, about +the woman in the mountains of Tennessee, with six sons. +Five of them were in the army, and when it was announced +to her that her eldest born had been killed in +battle, the mother simply said: “The Lord’s will be +done. Eddie (her baby) will be fourteen next spring, +and he can take Billy’s place.”</p> +<p>The hero of this great epoch is the son I have described, +as his mother and sister will be the heroines. +For years, day and night, winter and summer, without +pay, with no hope of promotion nor of winning a name +or making a mark, the Confederate boy-soldier trod the +straight and thorny path of duty. Half-clothed, whole-starved, +he tramps, night after night, his solitary post on +picket. No one can see him. Five minutes’ walk down +the road will put him beyond recall, and twenty minutes +further and he will be in the Yankee lines, where pay, +food, clothes, quiet, and safety all await him. Think of +the tens of thousands of boys subjected to this temptation, +and how few yielded! Think of how many dreamed +of such relief from danger and hardship! But, while I +glorify the chivalry, the fortitude, and the fidelity of the +private soldier, I do not intend to minimize the valor, the +endurance, or the gallantry of those who led him.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GOVERNOR_C_T_OFERRALLS_TRIBUTE' id='GOVERNOR_C_T_OFERRALLS_TRIBUTE'></a> +<h3>GOVERNOR C. T. O’FERRALL’S TRIBUTE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 23, pages 361-362.]</p> +<p>I think I can say boldly that the bloody strife of 1861 +to 1865 developed in the men of the South traits of +character as ennobling and as exalting as ever adorned +men since the day-dawn of creation. I think I can proclaim +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +confidently that, for courage and daring chivalry +and bravery, the world has never seen the superiors of +the Southern soldiers. I think I can assert defiantly that +the annals of time present no leaves more brilliant than +those upon which are recorded the deeds and achievements +of the followers of the Southern Cross. I think I +can proclaim triumphantly that, from the South’s beloved +President, and the peerless commander of her armies in +the field, down to the private in her ranks, there was a +display of patriotism perhaps unequalled (certainly never +surpassed) since this passion was implanted in the human +breast.</p> +<p>But as grand as the South was in her sons, she was +grander in her daughters; as sublime as she was in her +men, she was sublimer in her women.</p> +<p>History is replete with bright and beautiful examples +of woman’s devotion to home and birthland; of her fortitude, +trials, and sufferings in her country’s cause, and the +women of the Confederacy added many luminous pages +to what had already been most graphically written.</p> +<p>Yes, these Spartan wives and mothers, with husbands +or sons, or both, at the front, directed the farming operations, +supporting their families and supplying the armies; +they sewed, knitted, weaved, and spun; then in the hospitals +they were ministering angels, turning the heated +pillow, smoothing the wrinkled cot, cooling the parched +lips, stroking the burning brow, staunching the flowing +blood, binding up the gaping wounds, trimming the midnight +taper, and sitting in the stillness, only broken by +the groans of the sick and wounded, pointing the departing +spirit the way to God; closing the sightless eyes +and then following the bier to Hollywood or some +humble spot, and then dropping the purest tear.</p> +<p>They saw the flames licking the clouds, as their homes, +with their clinging memories, were reduced to ashes; +they heard of the carnage of battle, followed by the +mother’s deep moan, the wife’s low sob—for, alas! she +could not weep—the orphan’s wail, and the sister’s +lament. But amid flame, carnage, death, and lamentations, +though their land was reddening with blood, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +their beloved ones were falling like leaves in autumn, they +stood, like heroines, firm, steadfast, and constant.</p> +<p>Oh! women of the Confederacy, your fame is deathless; +you need not monument nor sculptured stone to +perpetuate it. Young maidens, gather at the feet of +some Confederate matron in some reminiscent hour, and +listen to her story of those days, now more than thirty +years past, and hear how God gave her courage, fortitude, +and strength to bear her privations, and bereavements, +and live.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_J_H_REAGAN_OF_TEXAS_POSTMASTERGEN' id='TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_J_H_REAGAN_OF_TEXAS_POSTMASTERGEN'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF JUDGE J. H. REAGAN, OF TEXAS, POSTMASTER-GENERAL OF CONFEDERATE STATES</h3> +</div> +<p>I never felt my inability to do justice to any subject so +keenly as I do when attempting to do justice to the character, +services, and devotion of the women of the Confederacy. +They gave to the armies their husbands, fathers, +sons, and brothers, with aching hearts, and bade +them good-bye with sobs and tears. But they believed +their sacrifice was due to their country and her cause. +They assumed the care of their homes and of the children +and aged. Many of them who had been reared in ease +and luxury had to engage in all the drudgery of the farm +and shop. Many of them worked in the fields to raise +means of feeding their families. Spinning-wheels and +looms were multiplied where none had been seen before, +to enable them to clothe their families and furnish clothing +for the loved ones in the army, to whom, with messages +of love and encouragement, they were, whenever +they could, sending something to wear or eat. And like +angels of mercy they visited and attended the hospitals, +with lint and bandages for the wounded, and medicine +for the sick, and such nourishment as they could for both, +and their holy prayers at all times went to the throne of +God for the safety of those dear to them and for the success +of the Confederate cause. There was a courage and +a moral heroism in their lives superior to that which +animated our brave men, for the men were stimulated by +the presence of their associates, the hope of applause, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +by the excitements of battle. While the noble women, in +the seclusion and quietude of their homes, were inspired +by a moral courage which could only come from God and +the love of country.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GENERAL_FREEMANTLE_OF_THE_BRITISH_ARMY' id='GENERAL_FREEMANTLE_OF_THE_BRITISH_ARMY'></a> +<h3>GENERAL FREEMANTLE (OF THE BRITISH ARMY)</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In “Three Months in Southern Lines.”]</p> +<p>It has often been remarked to me that when this war +is over the independence of the country will be due in a +great measure to the women: for they declare that had +the women been desponding they never could have gone +through with it. But, on the contrary, the women have +invariably set an example to the men of patience, devotion, +and determination. Naturally proud and with an +innate contempt for the Yankees, Southern women have +been rendered furious and desperate by the proceedings +of Butler, Milroy, and other such Federal officers. They +are all prepared to undergo any hardship and misfortunes +rather than submit to the rule of such people; and they +use every argument which women can employ to infuse +the same spirit into their male relatives.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SHERMANS_TOUGH_SET' id='SHERMANS_TOUGH_SET'></a> +<h3>SHERMAN’S “TOUGH SET”</h3> +</div> +<p>After Sherman took possession of Savannah he soon +issued orders, driving out of the city the wives of Confederate +officers and soldiers. While these women were +packing their trunks, he sent soldiers to watch them.</p> +<p>The ladies sent a remonstrance to the general, and here +is his reply:</p> +<p>“You women are the toughest set I ever knew. The +men would have given up long ago but for you. I believe +you would keep this war up for thirty years.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_GENERAL_BUELL' id='TRIBUTE_OF_GENERAL_BUELL'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF GENERAL BUELL</h3> +</div> +<p>The following are some of the words quoted from +General Buell, one of the most high-toned and gallant of +the Federal generals, and who saved the Federal army +from complete defeat at the battle of Shiloh. This appeared +in the <i>Century Magazine</i>, and afterward in the +third volume of “Battles and Leaders in the Civil War.” +After speaking of the confidence of the Southern soldier +in his commander, General Buell then speaks of another +influence which nerved the heart of the Confederate +soldier to valorous deeds:</p> +<p>“Nor must we give slight importance to the influence +of Southern women who, in agony of heart, girded the +sword upon their loved ones and bade them go. It was +expected that these various influences would give a confidence +to leadership that would tend to bold adventure +and leave its mark upon the contest.</p> +<p>“Yes; the Confederate soldier has gone down in all +histories as the most peerless, most gallant and matchless +hero the world ever produced.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_ALTON_B_PARKER_OF_NEW_YORK' id='TRIBUTE_OF_JUDGE_ALTON_B_PARKER_OF_NEW_YORK'></a> +<h3>TRIBUTE OF JUDGE ALTON B. PARKER, OF NEW YORK</h3> +</div> +<p>Nothing in all recorded history of mankind has been +more pathetic, more heroic, more deserving of admiration +and sympathy than the attitude of the Southern people +since 1865. As fate would have it, their defeat in war +was the smallest of their woes, because it would neither +threaten nor bring dishonor. But the new <i>post-bellum</i> +contest with military power, with theft and robbery, with +poverty and enforced domination of a race lately in +slavery, forced as it was without time for recovery, and +that, too, in their own homes, required a courage a little +less than superhuman.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +<a name='HEROIC_MEN_AND_WOMEN' id='HEROIC_MEN_AND_WOMEN'></a> +<h3>HEROIC MEN AND WOMEN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[President Roosevelt, in his speech at Richmond, October 18, 1905.]</p> +<p>Great though the meed of praise is which is due the +South for the soldierly valor of her sons displayed during +the four years of war, I think that even greater praise +is due her for what her people have accomplished during +the forty years of peace which followed. For forty years +the South has made not merely a courageous, but at +times a desperate struggle, as she has striven for moral +and material well-being. Her success has been extraordinary, +and all citizens of our common country should +feel joy and pride in it; for any great deed done, or any +fine qualities shown, by one group of Americans, of +necessity reflects credit upon all Americans. Only a +heroic people could have battled successfully against the +conditions with which the people of the South found +themselves face to face at the end of the civil war. There +had been utter destruction and disaster, and wholly new +business and social problems had to be faced with the +scantiest means. The economic and political fabric had +to be readjusted in the midst of dire want, of grinding +poverty. The future of the broken, war-swept South +seemed beyond hope, and if her sons and daughters had +been of weaker fiber there would have been in very truth +no hope. But the men and the sons of the men who had +faced with unfaltering front every alternation of good +and evil fortune from Manassas to Appomattox, and the +women, their wives and mothers, whose courage and endurance +had reached an even higher heroic level—these +men and these women set themselves undauntedly to the +great task before them. For twenty years the struggle +was hard and at times doubtful. Then the splendid +qualities of your manhood and womanhood told, as they +were bound to tell, and the wealth of your extraordinary +natural resources began to be shown. Now the teeming +riches of mine and field and factory attest the prosperity +of those who are all the stronger because of the trials and +struggles through which this prosperity has come. You +stand loyally to your traditions and memories; you also +stand loyal for our great common country of to-day and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +for our common flag, which symbolizes all that is brightest +and most hopeful for the future of mankind; you +face the new age in the spirit of the age. Alike in your +material and in your spiritual and intellectual development +you stand abreast of the foremost in the world’s +progress.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_WOMEN_OF_THE_SOUTH' id='THE_WOMEN_OF_THE_SOUTH'></a> +<h3>THE WOMEN OF THE SOUTH</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Joel Chandler Harris, in Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<p>Southern women have been heretofore referred to only +as the standards of fiction. There are three pieces of +fiction that have had a long and popular run in what may +be described in a large way as the North American mind. +One is that the stage representations of negro characters +are true to life; another is that the poor white trash of +the South are utterly worthless and thriftless; and the +other is that the white woman of the South lived in a +state of idleness during the days of slavery, swinging +and languishing in hammocks while bevies of pickaninnies +cooled the tropical air with long-handled fans made +of peacock tails.</p> +<p>Preposterous as they are, age has made these fictions +respectable, especially in the North. They strut about in +good company, and sometimes a sober historian goes so +far as to employ them for the purpose of bolstering up his +sectional theories, or, what is still worse, his prejudices.</p> +<p>I do not know that these fictions are important, or that +they are even interesting. If there was an explosion +every time truth was outrun by his notorious competitor, +the man who sleeps late of a morning would wake up +with a snort and imagine that the universe was the victim +of a fierce and prolonged bombardment.</p> +<h4><i>Wives of Planters</i></h4> +<p>The busiest women the world has ever seen were the +wives and daughters of the Southern planters during the +days of slavery. They were busy from morning until +night, and sometimes far into the night. They were +practically at the head of the commissary and sanitary +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +departments of the plantation. It was a part of their +duty to see that the negroes were properly fed, clothed, +and shod. They did not, it is true, go into the market +and purchase the supplies; that was a matter that could +be attended to by even a dull-witted man; but after the +supplies were bought it was the woman’s intelligent management +that caused them to be properly distributed.</p> +<p>I have never yet heard of a Southern woman who surrendered +the keys of her smoke-house and store-room to +an overseer. The distribution of the supplies, however, +was a comparatively small item. Take, for example, the +clothing provided for, say, one hundred negroes, male +and female, large and small. The cloth was bought in +bolts, though occasionally a considerable portion was +woven on the plantation on the old-fashioned hand-looms. +Whether bought or woven, the cloth had to be +cut out and made into garments. Who was to superintend +and see to all this if not a woman? Who was at the +head of the domestic establishment? There were seamstresses +to make up the clothes, but all the details and +preparations had to be looked after by the mistress, and +it oftentimes fell to her lot to go down on her knees on +the floor and cut out the garments for hours at a time.</p> +<h4><i>Sanitary Experts</i></h4> +<p>And then there was the health of the negroes—a very +important item where a twenty-year-old field hand was +worth $1,500 in gold. Who was to look after the sick +when, as frequently happened, the physician was miles +away? Who, indeed, if not the mistress? It was +natural, therefore—and not only natural, but absolutely +necessary—that a part of the store-room should be an +apothecary’s shop on a small scale, and that the Southern +woman should know what to prescribe in all the simpler +forms of disease. It is to be borne in mind that when +the negroes came in from their work the plantation became +a domestic establishment, and its demands were +such that it was necessary for a woman to be at the +head of it. On the energy, the industry and the apt management +of the mistress the success of the plantation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +depended to a great extent. It was not often these qualities +were lacking, either, for they were absolutely essential +to the success, the comfort, and the moral discipline +of the establishment.</p> +<h4><i>Queen of the Kitchen</i></h4> +<p>Then there was the kitchen. No Southern woman +could afford to turn that important department over to a +negro cook. Such a thing was not to be thought of. The +mistress of the plantation was also the mistress of the +kitchen. In order to teach their negroes the art of cooking, +the Southern women had to know how to cook +themselves, and they were compelled to gain their knowledge +by practical experience, for the kitchen is one of the +places where theories cannot be entertained. There are +negro women still living who got their training in the +plantation kitchen, under the eyes of their mistresses, +and their cooking is a spur to the appetite and a remedy +for indigestion. It is no wonder that a Georgia woman, +when she heard the negroes were really free, gave a sigh +of relief and exclaimed: “Thank heaven! I shall have +to work for them no more!”</p> +<p>These Southern women were the outgrowth of the +plantation system, the result of six or seven generations +of development. On that system they placed the impress +of their humanity and refinement; and the outcome of it +is to be seen in the condition of the negro race to-day. +In the sphere of their homes and in their social relations +they exercised a power and influence that has no parallel +in history. As they were themselves, so they trained +their daughters to be.</p> +<h4><i>In This Generation</i></h4> +<p>As the vine was, so must the fruit be. I have tried to +describe the mistress of the plantation for the reason that +her characteristics and tendencies have been transmitted +to the Southern women of this generation and to the +young girls who are growing into womanhood. It is +inevitable, however, that certain of these characteristics +should be modified or amplified according as the circumstances +of an environment altogether new may demand.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></div> +<p>I know of no more beautiful or romantic civilization +than that which blossomed under the plantation system, +and yet, in the natural order of things, it would have +inevitably run to caste distinctions. It had social ideals +that were impracticable, and it had literary ideals that +were foolish; nevertheless, after everything had been +said, caste distinctions under the plantation system would +have been less distasteful than those which are now in +process of organization in some parts of this country.</p> +<p>Whatever the development of Southern civilization +might have been under the old system it has come under +the domination of the new. That the new has been +strengthened and sweetened thereby I think will not be +denied by impartial observers who have no pet theories +to nurse. Women of to-day still possess the characteristics +that made their mothers and their grandmothers +beautiful and gracious; still possess the refinement that +built up a rare civilization amid unpromising surroundings; +still possess the energy and patience and gentleness +that wrought order and discipline on the plantations.</p> +<h4><i>An Inheritance of Graciousness</i></h4> +<p>Take, for example, the home life of the plantation. It +was larger, ampler, and more perfect than that which +exists in the republic to-day, not because it was more +leisurely and freer from care, but because the aims and +purposes of the various members of the family were more +concentrated. The hospitality that was a feature of it +was more unrestrained and simpler, because it bore no +relation whatever to the demands and suggestions of +what is now known in Sunday newspapers as “Society.”</p> +<p>The home life of the old plantation has had a marked +influence on the Southern women of to-day in their +struggles with adverse circumstances. They lack, for +one thing, the assurance of those who have inherited the +knack of making their way among strangers. The poetic +young Bostonian who has been writing recently of “The +Mannerless Sex” and “The Ruthless Sex” could never +have made the Southern woman a text for his articles, +and I trust that for generations yet to come they will retain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +the gentleness and the graciousness that belong to +them by right of inheritance.</p> +<h4><i>A Beneficent Influence</i></h4> +<p>Comparatively speaking, it has been but a few years +since the Southern woman has been compelled by circumstances +to seek a wider and more profitable field for her +talent, her energy, and her industry than the home and +fireside afford, and the experience of these few years has +demonstrated the fact that she is amply able to take care +of herself. In shaping and developing what is called the +new literary movement in the South, she has shown herself +to be a far more versatile worker than the men, more +artistic and more conscientious. She has made herself +in art, in science, and in schools; she has taken a place +in the ranks of the journalists; she has a place on the +stage and the platform; she is to be found in many of +the trades that are next door to the arts, in the professions +and in business; she is stenographing, typewriting, +clerking, dairying, gardening. She is to be found, in +short, wherever there is room for her, and her field is +always widening.</p> +<p>I think she will exercise a mellowing and restraining +influence on the ripping and snorting age just ahead of +us—the rattling and groaning age of electricity. What +part she may play in the woman’s rights movement of the +future it is difficult to say. Just now she has no aptitude +in that direction. She has been taught to believe that the +influences that are the result of a happy home-life are +more powerful and more important elements of politics +than the casting of a ballot; and in this belief she seems +to be with an overwhelming majority of American +women—the mothers and daughters who are the hope +and pride of the Republic.</p> +<p>Yet she is an earnest and untiring temperance worker. +Conservative in all other directions, she is inclined to be +somewhat radical in her crusade against rum. She is +inclined to fret and grieve a little over the fact that public +opinion failed to keep pace with her desires. The wheels +of legislation do not move fast enough for her, and she is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +inclined to wonder at it. In the innocence of her heart +she has never suspected that there is a demijohn in the +legislative committee-room.</p> +<p>There is no question and no movement of real importance +in which she is not interested. Her devotion and +self-sacrifice in the past have consecrated her to the +future, and her sufferings and privations have taught her +the blessings of charity in its largest and best interpretation.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='EULOGY_ON_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN_BY_J_L_UNDERWOOD_DELIV' id='EULOGY_ON_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN_BY_J_L_UNDERWOOD_DELIV'></a> +<h3>EULOGY ON CONFEDERATE WOMEN, BY J. L. UNDERWOOD, DELIVERED IN 1896</h3> +</div> +<blockquote> +<p>[The author offers as his tribute to the memory of the +Confederate Women the following lecture just as it +came from his brain and heart in 1896. It was delivered +mainly for the benefit of the Confederate Monument in +Cuthbert, Ga. A very serious lip cancer soon interrupted +all lecture work and finally landed him in Kellam’s Hospital +in Richmond, Va.]</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Ever since 1861 the women of the South have been +laying flowers on the graves of Confederate soldiers and +building monuments to their memory. The humblest of +surviving veterans begs the privilege of offering a wreath +of evergreen and immortelles to the memory of the Confederate +women. To the genuine woman, no bouquet is +acceptable, not even the kiss of affection is welcome, unless +hallowed by respect. Horatio Seymour, the great +governor of New York, said that the South, prior to +1861, produced “the best men and the best women the +world ever saw.” In the early part of the spring of 1861, +your speaker heard M. Laboulaye, one of the foremost +men of France in literature and public life, in a public +lecture at the Sorbourne in Paris, utter the following +memorable words: “I am told that in America a lady +can travel alone from Baltimore to New Orleans and will +all the way be protected and assisted. A country where +woman is respected as she is in the Southern States of +the American Republic,—a country where women so +richly deserve that respect,—others may say what they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +please about slavery in that sunny land, but that’s the +country for me.” This profound admiration, expressed +by the good and great of the world, while it fills the heart, +must surely temper the words of a Southern writer.</p> +<p>That man is not qualified to admire one woman who +sees no good in other women. Blind partiality is stupid +idolatry. The just historian of Southern women will +say nothing in disparagement of the warm-hearted fraus +of Germany, the tasteful, tidy, sparkling women of +France, our rosy cousins of old England, and especially +those bustling, bright little creatures up North, who make +things so lively everywhere. When Titian and Correggio +put woman on canvas she is their Italian woman; +Murillo paints her as the lustrous, dark-eyed beauty of +his own Spain. Meissonier’s women are French women, +and when Rubens paints an angel or unfallen Eve, she is +the fat chubby girl of Holland. But Raphael, in his +celebrated Madonna, the greatest of all paintings, forgets +all nationality, and his picture is just that of a woman. +Oh for something of this cosmopolitan spirit in our sacred +task. Nor must history degenerate into panegyric. +Weeds are near the flower-garden, and there are thorns +among the roses. Even among the brave Confederate +soldiers there were some shirkers and cowards. We had +our “hospital rats” and “butter-milk-rangers.” In the +battle there were some who suddenly got very thirsty +and ran away to get water. As one of these was rushing +from a hot fire to the rear one day, his colonel shouted +to him, “What are you running for? I wouldn’t be a +baby.” “I wish I was a baby, and a gal baby at that”—was +the reply. Another one in Gordon’s command, in +another battle, was making tracks to the rear as fast as +he could. General J. B. Gordon shouted, “Stop there, +Jim; what makes you run?” “Because I can’t fly,” was +his reply, as he leaped the fence. So our Confederate +women were not all paragons nor angels; not if you let +their poor husbands tell it. An old soldier in Atlanta has +sued for a divorce from his wife on the plea that during a +long life she has allowed him only four years of peace, +and that was when he was away in the war.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div> +<p>About the time of the surrender in 1865, a Federal brigade, +on its march to take possession of a Georgia city, +halted near a farm. As usual the soldiers went in to get +supplies of milk, chickens, etc., offering to pay for everything. +The old gentleman of the farm when he heard of +their approach had taken to the woods. His wife stood +her ground, and, seizing her first opportunity to let the +Yankees “know what she thought of them,” let out upon +their devoted heads a torrent of woman’s fury. Her +tongue fought the war over again. They became enraged +and literally “cleaned up” the farm, taking mules, +wagons, corn, chickens,—everything in sight. When +they had gone the old farmer came in and when he saw +“wide o’er the plain the wreck of ruin laid” he became +desperate. Finally, on the advice of his neighbors, he +went to the headquarters of the general in the city and +laid before him his pitiful complaint. That officer told +him he could not help him. “If you people give my soldiers +a civil treatment, I shall see that they respect your +property and pay for everything they get; but when they +are abused and insulted as they were at your house, I +can’t restrain them, nor shall I try.” “But, see here, +General, it is my mules and other property that they have +taken, and I have not abused your soldiers; it was my +wife.” “But, sir, you ought to make your wife hold her +tongue.” “Well, now, General, I have been trying that +forty years, and if you and your whole army can’t make +her hold her tongue, how in the world can you expect me +to do it?” The general saw the situation and kindly +ordered everything which had been taken to be given +back to the old farmer.</p> +<p>It has been said that the South has been busy making +history and others busy writing it. Our own people +must write it, and our children must study it. For more +than twenty-five years the life of the South was the +drama of the nineteenth century; and no drama is complete +without woman’s part in it. The war between the +Southern and Northern States was one of the bloodiest in +history. The Southern States claimed the right of secession +from the Union—a right which during the first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +seventy years of the Nation’s life was never questioned. +The Northern States claimed the right to coerce our +States back into what they called the Union—a right +never before thought of.</p> +<p>The die of war was cast, the Rubicon of coercion was +crossed, the gauntlet of blood was thrown down, when +the Northern States sent ships and soldiers to hold Fort +Sumter on South Carolina’s soil. Again and again +had the Southern States asked the Northern States for +the fish of peace; they were given the serpent of Seward’s +“irrepressible conflict.” They asked for the bread +of simple right; they were given the stone of invasion. +The reinforcement of Fort Sumter was a declaration of +war on the South.</p> +<p>Then, and not till then, did Beauregard’s cannon thunder +forth the protest for the rights of States, and the +tocsin rang out from the Potomac to the Rio Grande. +The ultimatum was cowardly submission to sectional dictation. +There is something better than peace; that is +liberty. There is something dearer than a people’s life; +that is a people’s manhood. The South wanted no war; +had prepared for no war; and had but few arms, no +navy, few factories and railroads. With a small population, +she was cut off by an effective blockade from the +rest of the world. The Northern States had the national +army, navy, treasury and flag, and all Europe from which +to draw soldiers and supplies.</p> +<p>The South, after mustering every able-bodied man, +could enroll, in all, but 600,000 soldiers, while she fought +2,600,000. Never was there a war continued for four +years at such fearful odds. And yet Richmond, the Confederate +capital, almost in sight of Washington, was only +captured when Sherman and Sheridan, the modern Atillas, +had flanked it with walls of fire, and pillaged the +country in its rear. Never has there been a war in which +the weaker so long and so effectually held the stronger at +bay or so often defeated them on the field of battle; never +a war in which the valor of the finally vanquished was so +respected by foes and so universally applauded by the +world. The mention of no battle, from Manassas to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +Appomattox, from Shiloh to Franklin, brings a blush to +the Confederate soldier. The world congratulates the +Federal soldier on his pension and the Confederate soldier +on his valor. The surrender of Lee’s 7,800 to +Grant’s 130,000 and the roll of 357,679 Federal soldiers +living to-day in the Grand Army of the Republic measure +the odds against us. The reduction of the Federal forces +to 1,500,000 during the war and the present pension roll +of 800,000 tell our work. Our poor South was never +vanquished. Her sad fate was simply to be worn out, +starved out, burned out, to die out.</p> +<p>Generously, but truthfully, did Professor Worseley, of +England, in his poem on Robert E. Lee, say of the ill-fated +Confederacy,</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Thy Troy is fallen, thy dear land</p> +<p class='indent2'>Is marred beneath the spoiler’s heel;</p> +<p>I cannot trust my trembling hand</p> +<p class='indent2'>To write the things I feel.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Ah, realm of tombs! but let her bear</p> +<p class='indent2'>This blazon to the end of times;</p> +<p>No nation rose so white and fair</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or fell so pure of crimes.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>After the surrender a poor Southern soldier was wending +his way down the lane over the “red old hills of +Georgia.” His old gray jacket that his wife had woven +and his mother made, was all tattered and torn; the old +greasy haversack and cedar canteen hung by his side. +From under his bullet-pierced hat there beamed eyes that +had seen many a battlefield. Said one of his neighbors: +“Hello, John; the Yankees whipped you, did they?” +“No, we just wore ourselves out whipping them.” +“Well, what are you going to do now, John?” “Why, +I’m going home, kiss Mary, and make a crop and get +ready to whip ’em again.”</p> +<p>That “Mary” is our theme to-day. Others have told +of Confederate soldiers on the battlefield. God help me +to tell of the soldier’s “other-self” behind the battlefield. +The brave Southern army was defending home. The arm +of the hero is nerved by his heart, and the heart of John +was Mary, and Mary was the soul of the South. In +peace woman was the queen of that Arcadia which God’s +blessings made our sunny land, and never has there been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +a war in which her enthusiasm was so intense and her +heroic cooperation so conspicuous. Her effectual and +practical work in the departments of the commissary, the +quartermaster and the surgeon, and her magic influence +at home and on the spirit of the army, were something +wonderful. The Federal General Atkins, of Sherman’s +army, said to a Carolina lady: “You women keep up +this war. We are fighting you. What right have you +to expect anything from us?”</p> +<p>And yet in all she was woman,—nothing but woman. +“And the Lord said it is not good for man to be alone; I +will make a help-meet for him.” In Paradise she was +the rib of man’s side; in Paradise lost she bears woman’s +heavy share of his labors and his fate. The history of +the South of 1861 will go down to the centuries with its +immortal lesson that woman’s power is greatest, her +work most beneficent and her career most splendid when +she moves in the orbit assigned her by Heaven as the +help-meet of man. It is the glory of Southern life and +society that with us woman is no “flaring Jezebel” but +our own modest Vashti.</p> +<p>Thank God the Confederate woman was no Lady +Macbeth, plotting treason for the advancement of her +husband; but the loyal daughter Cordelia, clinging to her +old father Lear in his wrongs; no fanatical Catherine de +Medici, thirsting for Huguenot blood, but the sweet Florence +Nightingale, hovering over the battlefield with,</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The balm that drops on wounds of woe,</p> +<p>From woman’s pitying eye,”</p> +</div></div> +<p>and making the dying bed of the patriot feel “soft as +downy pillows are.” She was no Herodias, calling for +the head of an enemy, but the humble Mary, breaking +the alabaster box to anoint the martyr of her cause; +weeping at His cross and watching at His grave. She +was no fierce Clytimnestra, but the loving Antigone leading +the blind old Oedipus, or digging the grave of her +brother Polynices; no Amazon Camilla, “<i>Agmen agens +equitum et florentes aere catervas</i>,” but the Roman Cornelia, +proud of her jewel Gracchi sons, and laying them +upon the altar of her country; no Helen, heartless in her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +beauty, but the gentle Creusa, following her husband to +be crushed in the ruins of her ill-fated Troy; no cruel +Juno, seeking revenge for wounded pride, but a pure +Vesta, keeping alive the fires of American patriotism; +no Charlotte Corday, plunging a dagger into the heart of +the tyrant Marat, but the calm Madame Roland, +under the guillotine of the Jacobins, raised to sever her +proud but all womanly head, and crying to her countrymen, +“Oh, Liberty, what crimes are committed in thy +name!” Who begrudges a moment for the record of her +patriotic services and unremitting toil? Who does not +see in her a glorious lesson?</p> +<p>Thank God! the clash of arms has long ago ceased. +The temple of Janus is closed. But the war of pens, the +contest of history, is upon us. For years Southern +women had been written down as soulless ciphers or +weakling wives, dragged by reckless husbands into an +unholy cause. Text books of so-called history, teeming +with such falsehoods, have been thrust even into Southern +schools. It is high time to protest. Before God we +tell them our mothers were not dupes, but women; they +and our men were not rebels, but patriots, obedient to +every law, loyal to every compact, State and National, of +their country; true, gloriously true, to every lesson +taught by Washington and Jefferson, and moved by +every impulse that has made this country great.</p> +<p>But there must be no gall in the inkstand of history. +No man can justly record the truth of the Confederate +war who has not risen above the passions and prejudices +incident to such terrible convulsions. No man with +malice to the North can write justly of the South. No +man can appreciate our great Jefferson Davis, who can +see nothing good in President Lincoln. No man can +describe the glory of Lee and Jackson, who shuts his eyes +to the soldiership of McClellan, the patriotism of Hancock, +the generosity of Grant, and the knighthood of +McPherson and Custer.</p> +<p>But don’t let us go too far in this direction. We might +fall into the other extreme of hypocritical “gush.” Let +us be careful; yea, honest. About the best we could do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +in war times is well shown in the preaching of a good old +Alabama country Baptist preacher in the darker days of +the war. He was a thorough Southerner and “brim full +of secesh,” as we used to say, and at the same time a devout +Christian. He was of the old-fashioned type and +talked a little through his nose. His text was the great +day when the good people will be gathered to Heaven +from the four corners of the world. Warming up to his +theme he said: “And oh, my brethren,—ah; in the day +of redemption the redeemed of the Lord will come flocking +from the four corners of the earth,—ah! They will +come from the East on the wings of the morning,—ah! +I hear them shouting Hallelujah, as they strike their +harps of gold—ah! And they’ll come from the West +shouting Hosanna in the highest,—ah! and you’ll see +them coming in crowds from the South,—ah; with +palms of victory in their hands, ah! And they’ll come +from the,—well, I reckon may be a few of them will +come from the North.” Oh that’s about the way men, +women and children down South felt for twenty years. +But, we’ve moved up on that. Christians grow in grace, +you know. The war is over. There are no enemies now. +We now believe a great many will come from the North. +Our old preacher would not now have a misgiving about +all four of the corners.</p> +<p>A few weeks after the surrender of Vicksburg, a large +number of sick paroled Confederate soldiers were sent +home on a Federal steamer by way of New Orleans and +Mobile. The speaker was among them. He had been +promoted to the chaplaincy of the Thirtieth Alabama +Regiment and soon found himself strong enough at least +to bury the dead as our poor fellows dropped away every +day. The Federal guard on the boat was under command +of Lieutenant Winslow, of Massachusetts, and a +nobler and bigger hearted soldier never wore a sword. +Between New Orleans and Mobile it was necessary to +bury our dead in the Gulf. Having no coffins the Federal +lieutenant and the Confederate chaplain would +lay the body, wrapped in the old blanket or quilt, on a +plank and then bind it with ropes and, fastening heavy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +irons to the feet, we would gently lower it and let it sink +down, down in the briny deep, the cleanest grave man +ever saw. The Northern lieutenant not only took off +his cap and bowed in reverence when the Confederate +chaplain prayed, but with his own hands assisted in +all the details of every burial. So let the North and the +South together bury the dead animosities of the past, take +the corpse of bitter falsehood, the prolific mother of +prejudice and hatred, bind it with the cords of patriotism +and sink it into the ocean of oblivion. But publish the +truth. The truth lives and ought to live. Truth never +does harm; but, with God and man, it is the peace angel +of reconciliation. Let the testimony be the truth, the +whole truth, and nothing but the truth and our people +will abide by it and every patriot will welcome the verdict.</p> +<p>Who were the women of 1861? My old Tennessee +father used to teach me that there is a great deal more in +the stock of people than there is in horses. Blood will +tell. These women were the direct descendants of those +bold, hardy Englishmen, who, under John Smith, Lord +Delaware, Lord Baltimore and General Oglethorpe made +settlements on the Southern shores and those who, from +time to time, were added to their colonies. They were +broad men, bringing broad ideas. They came, not +because they were driven out of England, but because +they wanted to come to America; who thought it no sin +to bring the best things of old England, and give them a +new and better growth in the new world; who first gave +the new world trial by jury and the election of governors +by popular vote. English cavaliers who knew how to be +gentlemen, even in the forest. This was the leading +blood. From time to time it was made stronger by a +considerable addition of Scotch and Scotch-Irish and an +occasional healthful cross with the very best people of +the North, more soulful and impulsive by some of the +blood of Ireland, and more vivacious by the French +Huguenot in the Carolinas and the Creole in Louisiana. +There thus grew up a new English race—English, but +not too English; English but American-English blood, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +of which old England is proud to-day. With little or no +immigration for many years from other people, this blood +under our balmy sun produced a race of its own—a +Southern people, as Klopstock says of the sweet strong +language of Germany, “Gesondert, ungemischt und nur +sich selber gleich.” Distinct, unmixed and only like +itself.</p> +<p>This was the blood that made America great, the blood +from which the South gave her Washington and so many +men like Henry, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe; that +out of seventy-two first years of this Republic furnished +the President for fifty-two years; the Chief Justice all +the time, and the leaders of Senates and of Cabinets; +the blood of Calhoun and Clay and Lowndes and Pinkney +and Benton and Crawford; Cobb and Berrien, Hall +and Jenkins, Toombs and Stevens; the blood that produced +our Washington, Sumter and Marion to achieve +our independence of Great Britain; Scott and Jackson to +fight the war of 1812, Clark and Jackson to conquer +from the Indians all the splendid country between the +mountains and the Mississippi, and Taylor and Scott to +win vast territories from Mexico.</p> +<p>This was the blood that so often showed how naturally +and gracefully a Southern woman could step from a +country home to adorn the White House at Washington; +the blood that made the South famous for its women, +stars at the capital and at Saratoga; favorites in London +and Paris; and queenly ladies in their homes, whether +that home was a log cabin in the forest or a mansion by +the sea. It was common for Northern and European +people to praise the taste of Southern women, especially +in matters of dress. They did have remarkable taste in +dressing, for they had a form to dress and a face to adorn +that dress. Neither war nor poverty could mar their +grace of form nor beauty of face.</p> +<p>It is said of the great Bishop Bascomb, of the Southern +Methodist Church, that, in the early years of his ministry, +he was so handsome and graceful in person, and so neat +in his dress, that a great many of his brethren were +prejudiced against him as being what they called “too +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +much of a dandy.” For a long time the young orator +was sent on mountain circuits to bring him down to the +level of plain old-fashioned Methodism. It was proposed +to one of his mountain members who was very bitter +about the preacher’s fine clothes that he give Bascomb a +suit of homespun. The offer was gladly accepted, and on +the day for Bascomb’s appearance in the plain clothes the +old brother was early on the church grounds to glory in +having made the city preacher look like other folks. +Imagine his chagrin when Bascomb walked up, looking +in homespun as he looked in broadcloth, an Apollo in +form and a Brummel in style. “Well I do declare!” said +the old man. “Go it, brother Bascomb; I give it up; +It ain’t your clothes that’s so pretty, it’s jist you.” So +our Southern women were just as charming in the shuck +hats and home-made cotton dresses of 1864, as in the +silks and satins of 1860.</p> +<p>But by their fruits ye shall know them. Walk with me +on the streets of Richmond and Charleston. Go with me +to any of our country churches throughout these Southern +States and I will show you, among the many poor +daughters of these women, that same classic face that +tells of the blood in their veins. Go with me back to the +Confederate army and you will see in such generals as the +Lees, Albert Sidney Johnston, Breckinridge, Toombs, +the Colquitts, Gordon, Evans, Gracie, Jeb. Stuart, Price, +Hampton, Tracy, Ramseur, Ashby and thousands of +private soldiers that face and form that tell of the +knightly blood in the veins of the mothers that bore them.</p> +<p>South Georgia is to be congratulated that in the Confederate +monument recently unveiled at Cuthbert, the +artist has at least given what is sadly lacking in other +Confederate monuments to private soldiers, the genuine +face of the Southern soldier, that face which is a just +compliment to the Confederate mother. The artists who +cast some other monuments in the South had seen too +little of Southern people, and had put on some of our +monuments the pug nose and bullet head of other people.</p> +<p>Our mothers and grandmothers lived mostly in the +country, and drank in a splendid vigor from the ozone of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +field, and forest, and mountain. They were trained +mostly at home by private teachers or in common schools +run on common sense principles, and in “the old-time religion,” +without “isms,” fanaticism, or cant. They were +taught the philosophy of life by fathers who thought and +manners by mothers who were the soul of inborn refinement. +They thought for themselves, and indulged no +craze for things new, and they aped no foreigners. +In conversation they didn’t end every sentence with the +interrogation point, but followed nature and let their +voices fall at periods. They never said “thanks,” but in +the good old English of Addison and Goldsmith, said “I +thank you.” They never spoke of a sweetheart as “my +fellow,” and would have scorned such a word as “mash.” +They never walked “arm clutch,” nor allowed Sunday +newspapers to make five-cent museums of their pictures. +Their entertainments were famous for elegance and +pleasure, but they had no euchre-clubs. Indeed, we +doubt if many of them ever heard of a woman’s club of +any kind. They were fond of “society,” but would have +had a profound contempt for that so-called “society” of +our day, in which the man is a prince who can lead the +german, spend money for bouquets and part his hair in +the middle. They didn’t wear bloomers, nor did many +of them ever dress decolette. They were clothed and in +their right mind. They never mounted platforms to +speak nor pulpits to preach, and yet their influence and +inspiration gave Southern pulpits and platforms a world-wide +fame. Their highest ambition was to be president +of home. They were Southern women everywhere, at +home and abroad, in church and on the streets, in parlor +and kitchen, when they rode, when they walked. Gentle, +but brave; modest, but independent. Seeking no recognition, +the true Southern woman found it already won by +her worth; courting no attention, at every turn it met +her, to do willing homage to her native grace and genuine +womanhood.</p> +<p>Now, to appreciate the enthusiasm of such women in +the Confederate war, you must remember that great +principles were at stake in that struggle, and that woman +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +grasps great principles as clearly as man, and with a zeal +known only to herself. See with what prompt intuition +and sober enthusiasm woman received the Christian religion. +Martha, of Bethany, uttered the great keynote of +the Christian creed long before an apostle penned a line. +The primitive evangelist Timothy, the favorite of the +great Apostle Paul, was trained by his grandmother +Lois and his mother Eunice; and the pulpit orator Apollos +studied at the feet of Priscilla. The great lamented +Dr. Thornwell, of South Carolina, who was justly called +the “John C. Calhoun of the Presbyterian Church” of the +United States, loved to tell it that he learned his theology +from his poor old country Baptist mother. In politics, as +in religion, our mothers may not have read much, and +they talked less, but they heard much and thought the +more. Before the war the reproach was often hurled at +Southern men that they talked politics. God’s true people +talked religion from Abel to the invention of the art +of printing. They had a religion to talk. Our fathers +did talk politics, for, thank God, they had politics worth +talking—not the picayune politics of the demagogue +office-seeker of our day; not the almighty dollar politics +of the bloated bond-holder and the trusts, the one-idea +craze of the silver mine-owner, nor the tariff greed of the +manufacturer; not the imported European communism +that would crush one class to build up another, not the +wild anarchy that would pull down everything above it +and blast everything around it.</p> +<p>The South was intensely American, and her people +loved American politics and talked American politics. +She entered into the Revolutionary war with all her soul. +Southern statesmanship lifted that struggle from a mere +rebellion to a war of nations by manly secession from +Great Britain in North Carolina’s declaration of independence +at Mecklenburg. The Philadelphia declaration +was drawn up by the South’s Jefferson and proposed by +Virginia. This was the great secession of 1776. To +the Revolutionary war the South sent one hundred out of +every two hundred and nine men of military age, while +the North sent one hundred out of every two hundred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +and twenty-seven. (We quote from the official report of +General Knox, Secretary of War.) Virginia sent +56,721 men. South Carolina sent 31,000 men, while +New York, with more than double her military population, +sent 29,830. New Hampshire, with double the +population of South Carolina, sent only 18,000. The little +Southern States sent more men in proportion to population +than even Massachusetts and Connecticut, who +did their part so well in that war.</p> +<p>It was Southern politics that proposed the great union +of the sovereign States in 1787. To that union the three +States of Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia have +added out of their own bosoms ten more great States. +These Southern States were the mothers of States, and +most naturally did they talk of States and State’s rights.</p> +<p>Southern politics, prevailing in the national councils +against the bitter protests of New England, carried +through the war of 1812; added Florida to the Union, +and, by the purchase of Louisiana, all the Trans-Mississippi +valley from the Gulf to Canada. It was Southern +politics against the furious opposition of New England +that annexed Texas, and, by the war with Mexico, +brought in the vast territory far away to the Pacific. +The South sent 45,000 volunteers to the Mexican war; +the whole North, with three times the population, sent +23,000. Thus the South was the mother of territories, +and was it not natural that she should talk of territories +and of her rights in the territories?</p> +<p>In political platforms, in legislative enactments, and +notably in the election of Mr. Lincoln in 1860, the more +populous North declared that the Southern States should +be shut out from all share in the territories bought with +common treasure and blood. Our women, a child, a +negro, could see the iniquity of the claim.</p> +<p>The action of the North in regard to national territory +was an edict, too, that the negroes, through no fault of +their own, should be shut up in one little corner of the +country.</p> +<p>Then when the South sought the only alternative left +her, that of peaceable secession, her right to go was justified +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +by the terms of the Constitution; by the distinct +understanding among the sovereign States when they entered +the Union, more directly insisted and put on record +by the three States of Virginia, New York, and Rhode +Island than any other State; by the secession convention +of New England in the war of 1812; by the Northern +secession convention in Ohio in 1859 and the reiterated +declarations of Henry Ward Beecher, and by Wendell +Phillips, and Horace Greeley, William Lloyd Garrison +and the other great leaders of Northern thought in +1860.</p> +<p>As to coercing the States back into the Union, President +Buchanan well said at the time there was “not a +shadow of authority” for it, and Governor Seymour, of +New York, truthfully said “coercion is revolution.”</p> +<p>Again, remember that wrongs pierce deeper into the +heart of woman than into the more callous soul of man. +For years vast multitudes of the people of the North had +kept up a furious war against the South in books and +newspapers; in pulpits and religious conventions; in political +platforms and State assemblies. Oh, it makes the +blood run cold to think of the relentless malignity of the +fanaticism of those days. No parlors nor churches too +sacred for bitter onslaught on Southern people; no epithets +too vile; no slanders too black; no curses too +deadly to be hurled at Southern men and women. But +war,—yes, blood-red war was really, and almost formally +declared by the Northern endorsement of Henry Ward +Beecher’s “Sharpe’s rifles” crusade against Southern +settlers in Kansas; and the war of 1861 was actually +begun by John Brown’s murderous raid at Harper’s +Ferry in Virginia in 1859. The North made him a hero +martyr. John Brown’s rifle shot in Virginia only +alarmed the angel of peace. The Northern applause of +John Brown drove her away from our unhappy land. By +his apotheosis the Northern people made his rifle shot at +Harper’s Ferry the skirmish firing of the impending war, +to be answered by our manly cannon at Charleston in +1861. Puritan intolerance scourged Roger Williams out +of Massachusetts for nonconformity in religion; and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +Puritanism scourged the South out of the Union in 1861 +for nonconformity in politics. The Southern woman’s +heart felt to the very core and resented as only woman +can resent, the sting of that merciless lash.</p> +<p>This is an age of monuments, and your speaker has +undertaken to erect one in book form to the memory of +Confederate women. When this thought comes to be +put in marble or brass, as it will some day soon, let that +monument rest on the broad granite foundation of truth. +Then as the artist begins to put in bas relief the symbols +of the virtues of the Southern women of 1861, and the +souvenirs of her heroic life, let the first scene be that of +a scroll, the Constitution of the United States, held in +the unsullied hands of the great Jefferson Davis, as he +marches out from the United States court, under whose +warrants he had been held for treason, again a free man. +Let that picture tell of the undying loyalty of our mother +and her people to the organic law of the land: that +Southern men wrote it and their sons have ever honored +and loved it: Tell it in Gath, publish it in the streets of +Aekelon, that those who crushed us were the men who +despised, hawked at and cursed the Constitution.</p> +<p>The South at Montgomery swore fresh allegiance to +the Constitution handed down by our American fathers, +and carried with her through all the wilderness march +the sacred old Ark of the Covenant. And when our Confederate +head, the peerless Jefferson Davis, our chosen +standard bearer of State sovereignty and home rule, was +brought to trial, bearing in himself the alleged sins of us +all, charged with being a rebel, that document showed +him to be a stainless patriot; and though the mob of +millions was shouting, “Crucify him, crucify him!” the +highest courts of the Federal Government declared by his +quiet and silent, but significant release, as Pilate did of +Jesus, “We find no fault in this man.” The Constitution +of the United States is a standing declaration of the sinlessness +of the Confederate cause.</p> +<p>Let the artist next put on the monument a picture of +an old negro woman, the old Southern “mammy,” with +the child of her mistress in her arms. Near by let old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +Uncle Jacob be leading the little white boy, while down in +the cornfield near by are seen Jacob’s sons and daughters +at work singing the cheerful songs which the poor negro +now has heart to sing no more. In the distance picture +the faithful Bob or Mingo coming from the battlefield, +bearing the dead body of his young master.</p> +<p>Let that picture tell to all generations the story of slavery. +We had slavery, but, thank God, it was Southern +slavery,—Christian slavery. Truth will explain the paradox, +if there was any paradox. It had its evils, and nobody +blushes because we had it, nor whines because it is +gone. But as for any sin of the South in it, let the first +stone of condemnation be thrown by that people who had +no fathers cruel to their children, no husbands harsh to +their wives, and no rich man unjust to the poor laborer.</p> +<p>The South never enslaved a single negro, never +brought one to America. Georgia was the first of the settlements +to forbid slavery, and Georgia and Virginia were +the foremost States in cutting off the slave trade. The +colony of Virginia petitioned twenty times against the +continuance of the slave trade. The negroes were enslaved +by their own savage chiefs in Africa. England +and the Northern people brought them to America and +sold them for gold. The Dutch brought twenty +to Virginia, but were forbidden to bring any more. When +found less profitable in the colder climate of the North, +the negroes were sold South to become valuable tillers of +the soil, and, after the invention of the cotton gin, to make +the country rich. The Northern people at a good profit +sold their slaves down South, put the money at interest, +suddenly got pious, and waged a fierce war on the people +who bought them. That’s history.</p> +<p>In 1861, on the first Sunday after the news of the fall +of Fort Sumter reached England, the author, in company +with a friend from Pennsylvania, who was an anti-slavery +man, attended services in Mr. Spurgeon’s chapel in London. +The great city was wrapped in the deepest gloom. +The war storm in America was expected to ruin manufactures +and trade throughout Great Britain. Mr. +Spurgeon and his people seemed bowed down with sorrow. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +On returning to our hotel my Northern friend remarked +that he knew I didn’t approve of Spurgeon’s +prayer about slavery. I said to him, “R——, just +there you are mistaken. Some of my people in Alabama +some time ago burned Spurgeon’s books because of some +of his abolition views, but when I go home and tell them +how this great Christian prayed to-day they will respect +his honesty and sincerity. We blame nobody for being +anti-slavery, but we do abominate fanatical abolitionism. +Spurgeon is no fanatic. Listen to this Englishman: ‘O +God, our people are in the ashes of woe. A dreadful war +beyond the ocean has cut off our commerce and closed our +factories, and thousands of our poor must sadly suffer. +The people of the American States are bone of our bone +and flesh of our flesh. O Lord, pity them, and pity us. +O God, they and we have sinned in enslaving our fellow +men. England put slavery on her colonies against the +protest of those Southern people, and England must suffer +Thy judgments for her part. Forgive the North, forgive +the South, and forgive England. O pity especially +the people of that section where the war will bear so +heavily and pity the poor everywhere.’</p> +<p>“Now, R——, that’s a Christian prayer that we respect; +and while Spurgeon goes back one hundred +and fifty and even two hundred years and tells the +truth about slavery, and for his English people, even +to-day, shoulders their responsibility in this matter, +how are thousands (thank God, but not all) of your +Northern preachers in your churches at the North +praying to-day? ‘We thank Thee, Lord, that this war +has come. Somebody will get hurt, but we people up +this way will come out all right because we are so innocent +and so righteous. O Lord, we thank Thee that +we are holy and not as other men are, especially these +wicked Southern people. We thank Thee for short memories; +that we have forgotten that we brought the negroes +from Africa, kept them as long as it paid us, and then +sold them to these Southerners; that we have forgotten +that when Virginia and Maryland wanted to put an end +to the slave trade, we out-voted them and kept the slave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +trade open until 1808. Lord, we could have seceded +from these savage Southern States long ago and got rid +of any connection with slavery, for we believed in secession +until just now. But, Lord, if we let the South go, +as Mr. Lincoln says, where will we get our revenues? +We thank Thee too that we have forgotten that those +Southerners can’t get rid of the negroes without kicking +them into the Gulf of Mexico. Lord, we thank Thee +that we can see nothing but our own righteousness. We +have tried to reform those wicked Southerners and make +them good like ourselves, but we couldn’t. Now, Lord, +we have brought on a war and we turn it over to Thee. +We’ll hire Dutchmen and Irishmen to help Thee do our +fighting, and we’ll stand off and enjoy the fun. Now, as +Thou art about to pour out the vials of Thy mighty +wrath upon the abominable Southern people, do, Lord, +just give ’em—fits.’ Now, R——, there’s the difference +between honest anti-slavery in England and the hypocrisy +of the crusade in America.”</p> +<p>The truth is that in Southern homes, the negro prospered +and multiplied as no other laboring class has ever +done. The South shared with him its bread, its medicines, +its homes and its churches. M. de La Tours, the +eminent French hygienist, truthfully said that “The +slaves of the South were the best fed and the best cared +for laborers that the world ever saw.” No chain-gang, no +penitentiary, for the negro, no lynchings, and no crimes +to be lynched for, when the negro was under the influence +of our mothers and grandmothers. God forgive the +fanatic who in later days put folly in his head and the +devil in his heart. Our mothers trusted him and he +trusted them. All through the war, while nearly all the +white men were away in the army, the negro slave was +the protector and the support of Southern families. Our +mothers would have died for the negroes, and negroes +would have died for them. In Wilson’s raid near Columbus, +Ga., his soldiers were about to destroy a patch of +cane belonging to a widow. The brave woman took her +gun and declared she would shoot the first man that +touched her property. In their rage they raised their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +rifles to shoot her down. Just then her old cook rushed +in between them, saying, “If you are going to kill ‘old +miss,’ you’ll have to kill me, too.”</p> +<p>When Sherman was plundering South Carolina, some +of his soldiers heard that a young lady had a very fine +gold watch concealed in her bosom. They demanded it, +and on her refusal they were about to seize her, when +Delia, her faithful servant, defied them. “Fore God, +buckra, if one of younner put your nasty hand on dis +chile of my ole missus you got to knock Delia down fust.”</p> +<p>The monument to the Southern woman will be a monument +to our faithful old Dinahs and Delias too. The old +ex-slaves will gather at its base and as the tears stream +down their dusky cheeks they will say, as they say now, +“Dat’s de best friend the poor nigger ever had,” and enlightened +negroes, like Booker Washington, will tell the +true story that out of slavery the North got money, the +South got ruin, and the negro got civilization, Christianity, +and contentment.</p> +<p>Let the next picture be an ear of corn, a spinning-wheel, +and a hand-loom. Ceres was the goddess of the Sunny +South, and the staff of our armies was the corn of our +own fields. The South, however prosperous, was not +made up of rich people. Not one man in ten owned a +slave; not one slave holder in ten was wealthy. The +small farms, many of them under the care of the soldier’s +wife and the faithful old negro foreman, and many more +tilled by the soldier’s boys under the eye of their mother, +yielded a very large share of the Confederate supplies. +While Minerva taught our men war she taught our +women household work, and quickly did she make Southern +beauties Arachnes at the loom and Penelopes with the +knitting needles. They knew how to adorn the parlor +and play the piano, but, when necessity came, like +Lemuel’s mother, they “sought wool and flax and +wrought diligently with their hands,” or even, like Rebecca, +they could go out into the field and draw water for +the cattle; or, like Ruth, hold the plow steady in the furrows, +or glean grain at harvest time. False histories +have pictured our mothers as doll babies. Let that monument +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +tell of the wonderful pluck, energy, and strength, +while it tells of the patriotism of the smartest and sweetest +and bravest and strongest doll babies the world ever +saw.</p> +<p>The artist must do his best when he puts on that monument +a little white hand—the well-shaped, classic hand +of the Southern woman. In that hand must be held the +little white handkerchief. What a part that handkerchief +played in the war! Old soldiers, as you rode off down +the lane, again and again you turned to take the farewell +look at home, sweet home, and there was that little white +handkerchief waving at the gate; or when your company +left the railroad station there, all around, were the good +women of the neighborhood, and as you looked far back +down the track these little white flags bade you woman’s +“good bye and God bless you.” You never forgot it. +Whether we marched past country homes or through the +streets of cities, woman’s heart-cheer greeted us in the +handkerchief from the window. Perhaps it was held in +the rheumatic hand of Mrs. General Lee as she looked out +from her knitting in her Richmond home, or, later +on we could see behind it the sad, mourning sleeve of +Stonewall Jackson’s widow. I tell you, my countrymen, +the bonny blue flag or the Southern Cross was the banner +of the soldier on the battlefield, but the little white handkerchief +was our sacred banner behind the battlefield. +The one, in the hands of the color sergeants, guided our +movements in the army; but the other, in woman’s hand, +inspired our movements everywhere.</p> +<p>Put here a knapsack, the rough, old, oil-cloth knapsack +of the Confederate soldier. Poor fellow! he had +but few clothes in it, but it contained something dearer +to him than clothes—letters from home. He kept them +all, the most of them written on the blank side of old wall +paper and inclosed in brown envelopes, which perhaps had +been turned so as to be twice used. When our poor boys +were killed, their letters were gathered by the chaplains, +litter bearers and burial details, to be sent to their homes. +I am not going to tell what sort of letters were found in +many knapsacks on our battlefields, but it is a fact, borne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +out by the testimony of these men, that never was +there found a letter from a Confederate soldier’s wife +to her husband whose words would make the most modest +blush, or in which she exerted any of her woman’s power +or used any of woman’s arts to decoy him from the army. +Here is a specimen of a letter from home in a Confederate +knapsack:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Mitchell County, Ga.</span>, <i>July 20, 1863</i>.</p> +<p>Mr. Jno. Iverson,<br /> + Company B, Fourth Regiment, Army of Virginia.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear John</span>:</p> +<p>This leaves us all getting along very well. Nobody +sick, and we finished laying by the corn. The cattle are +fat and the hogs doing finely. We sell some butter and +eggs every week. We have plenty to eat, and know that +it’s only you that’s having a hard time. But we are all +so proud that you are fighting for your country. Will +be so glad when you can get a furlough, but we know +that you must, and will stick to your post of duty. Willie +and Jennie send kisses to their brave papa. We never +forget to pray for you. If you get killed, darling, God +will take care of us and we’ll all meet in heaven.</p> +<p class='sig1'>Your,<br /> + <span class='smcap'>Mary</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That’s the way they wrote. Let that knapsack tell forever +of the fortitude, the purity, the loyalty and refinement +of the Southern woman.</p> +<p>Let the next picture be the humble hospital couch.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Up and down through the wards where the fever</p> +<p class='indent2'>Stalks, noisome, and gaunt, and impure;</p> +<p>You must go with your steadfast endeavor</p> +<p class='indent2'>To comfort, to counsel, to cure.</p> +<p>I grant you the task is superhuman,</p> +<p class='indent2'>But strength will be given to you</p> +<p>To do for those loved ones what woman</p> +<p class='indent2'>Alone in her pity can do.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Our women gave their carpets to make blankets, their +dresses to be made into shirts for the soldiers, and their +linen to furnish lint for their wounds, and then, clad in +homespun, they gave themselves. Nearly every town +and village in the South had its Soldiers’ Aid Society +and its hospital. Thousands and thousands of the poor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +fellows were taken to private houses, even away out in +the country, and tenderly cared for. There was scarcely +a woman near a battlefield or a railroad who did not +nurse a soldier. Nearly every woman in Richmond +served regularly on hospital committees. One of these, +a Mrs. Roland, was blind, and her sweet guitar and +sweeter song cheered many a poor hero. One of the +songs of these days was “Let me kiss him for his +Mother.” Here’s a story to show how woman’s petting, +which always spoils a boy and sometimes a husband, occasionally +found a hard case in a Confederate soldier. +Among the sick in Richmond was a brave young fellow, +who was a great favorite and the only son of a widowed +mother, who was far away beyond the Mississippi. One +morning the report got out that he was dying in the +hospital, and one of the prettiest and sweetest young +ladies in the city was so touched by the sad story that she +determined to go and kiss him for his mother. She hastened +to the ward where the poor youth was lying high +up on one of the upper tiers of bunks and quickly told her +mission to the nurses. “I don’t know him, but oh, its +so sad, and I have come to ‘kiss him for his mother’ +away out in Texas.” Now he wasn’t dying at all, but +was much better, and as he peeped at the sweet face, the +rascal, raising his head over the edge of the bunk, said, +“Never mind the old lady, miss, just go it on your own +hook.” Now that’s just the thanks these ununiformed +sisters of mercy sometimes got for their pains.</p> +<p>Put on this monument a pair of crutches. You never +see the bright star of womanhood until it shines in the +darkness of man’s misfortune. It is the furnace of man’s +suffering that brings out the pure gold of her love. +Here’s a specimen. On a cold winter day, when Lee’s +army was marching through one of the lower sections of +Virginia, some of the veterans were completely barefooted, +and the Sixth Georgia Regiment was passing. A +plain country woman was standing in the group by the +road side. “Lord, a mercy,” said she, “there’s a poor soldier +ain’t go no shoes,” and off came hers in a jiffy and +she ordered her negro woman standing by to give hers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +up, too. The good woman wore number threes, and +the soldier who got them was Jake Quarles, of Company +B, Dade County, Georgia, who wore number twelves.</p> +<p>Soon after the war I once expressed my sympathy to a +young lady friend who was about to marry a young one-armed +soldier. “I want no sympathy. I think it a great +privilege and honor to be the wife of a man who lost his +arm fighting for my country,” was her prompt reply. +That’s your Southern girl.</p> +<p>When John Redding, of Randolph County, Ga., was +brought home wounded from Chickamauga, it was found +necessary to amputate his leg. On the day fixed for the +dangerous operation, his many friends were gathered at +his father’s country home. Among them was Miss +Carrie McNeil, to whom he was engaged. After he had +passed safely through the ordeal she, of course, was allowed +to be the first to go in to see him. They were left +alone for a while. The next to go in was an aunt of +Miss Carrie’s, and as she shook hands with poor John +and was about to pass on, he said, “Ain’t you going to +kiss me, too?” Ah, what a tale that question told. The +gallant soldier had offered to release his betrothed from +her engagement, but she said, “No, no, John, I can’t give +you up, and I love you better than ever,” and a kiss had +sealed their holy love.</p> +<p>When Tom Phipps, of Randolph County, Ga., came +home on crutches he offered to release Miss Maggie +Pharham from her engagement. “No, Tom,” she said. +“We can make a living.” There are hundreds of these +noble, God-given Carrie McNeils and Maggie Pharhams +all over our war-wrecked South.</p> +<p>Let the next emblem be the oak riven by the +lightning, and the tender ivy entwining itself around +it. Let it tell of the sufferings of the refugee father +and the wreck of the old man in the track of such +vandals as Sherman, Hunter, Sheridan, Milroy and +Kilpatrick. Let it tell of the horrors of the years +of so-called peace that followed the war. Northern +soldiers killed our young men in war; politicians +killed our old men in peace. Sherman burned houses +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +from Atlanta to Bentonville. Thad Stevens in Congress +blighted every acre of ground from Baltimore to San +Antonio. The war of shot and shell lasted four years; +the war of blind, revengeful reconstruction legislation +lasted twenty years. War marshalled our enemies on +the battlefield; reconstruction made enemies of the men +who had held our plow handles and stood around our +tables. War put the South under the rule of soldiers; +reconstruction put us under the heel of the rapacious +carpet-bagger and negro plunderers. War crushed some +of our people. Vindictive legislation crushed all our +people. War made the South an Aceldama; reconstruction +made it a Gehenna. Grant held back the red right +hands of Stanton and Holt from the throats of Lee and +his paroled soldiers: alas, Lincoln was dead, and his +patriotic arm was not there to hold back Thad Stevens +and his revolutionary congress from our prostrate citizens.</p> +<p>Amid these horrors our young men could hope, but to +our old men was nothing left but despair. Robbed of +their property after peace was declared, without a dollar +of compensation, their lands made valueless or confiscated; +they themselves disfranchised and their slaves +made their political masters, too old to change and recuperate, +too old to hope even, but too manly to whine, +they stood as desolate and uncomplaining as that old +oak.</p> +<p>Do you see that tender vine binding up the shattered +tree and hiding its wounds? That is Southern woman +clinging closer and more tenderly to father and husband +when the storms beat upon him, comforting as only such +Christian women can comfort; smiling only as such +heroines can smile; with “toil-beat nerves, and care-worn +eye,” helping only as such women can help. In the +schoolroom and behind the counter, over the sewing machine +and the cooking stove, in garden and field, everywhere +showing the gems of Southern character washed +up from its depths by the ocean of Southern woe.</p> +<p>Let the last symbol on the monument be the clasped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +right hands of the Union. These Southern women of +1861 were the daughters of the great American Union. +Their fathers under the leadership of Jefferson, Madison +and Washington, had proposed the Union, devised the +Union, loved the Union, and, under Clay and Calhoun +and Benton, had preserved the Union. As an inducement +for union between the original States, without +which the Northern States would not come into it, Virginia, +the great mother of the Union, gave up all her +splendid territory north of the Ohio, embracing what is +now Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin, and Michigan, +and agreed that they should be made States without +slavery. She afterwards gave Kentucky. North Carolina +gave Tennessee, and Georgia gave Alabama and Mississippi. +Southern influence and Southern statesmanship +made the Union strong at home and respected abroad by +the war of 1812, which was gallantly fought by the +South and bitterly opposed by New England—opposed +to the very verge of secession from the Union in the +Hartford convention. The Southern States had shown +their devotion to the Union by yielding to the compromises +on the tariff, the bounty, and the territorial questions. +The South demanded no tariff tribute, no bounties +and no internal improvements as the price of her devotion +to the Union. She loved the Union for the Union’s +sake. All that she demanded was that in the territory, +while it was territory, belonging to the government, her +sons, with their families, white and black, should have +an equal share.</p> +<p>John C. Calhoun was not a disunionist. The nullification +ordinance of South Carolina, “the Hotspur of the +Union,” was not secession. It was the protest of a +sovereign State against unconstitutional Federal taxation +levied through the tariff on the consumer, not for +government revenue, but for the benefit of the manufacturer. +The nation heard the manly voice of the little +State, and Calhoun and Clay stood side by side in the +great compromise that followed. Calhoun and his +people loved the Union, but they wanted a union that was +a union. True religion is that which is laid down in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +Bible, not theory nor sentiment. True political union is +the union formed by the Sovereign States and expressed +in the Constitution. Constitutional union was the only +true union. Everything else was a mere sentiment or a +sham. History will yet hold that the secession of the +Southern States in 1861 was itself a union movement. +The Northern States had destroyed the old union. By +their numerous nullification acts in State assemblies they +had repudiated the legislative branch of the government; +by their defiance of the Supreme Court they had virtually +abolished the judiciary, the second branch; and in 1860, +by the sectional platform of the dominant party and the +election of a sectional president, they had denationalized +the executive branch of the government. Where was the +union? Gone, utterly gone. South Carolina only cut +herself off from the union-breakers and attached herself +to such States as clung to the Constitution and Union of +the fathers. Secession in 1861 meant the preservation +of the union of 1787. Coercion in 1861 was rebellion +against the Federal compact and death of the old Union. +The Star-Spangled Banner became the labarum of invasion, +and the Southern Cross the standard of all the +Union that was left.</p> +<p>The Union that our fathers and mothers loved lay +buried for twenty-five years. From March, 1861, to +March, 1885, any true Southern man in the national capital +found himself a stranger in a strange land, and was +looked upon as a political Pariah by those in power,—an +intruder even in the house of his fathers. Every government +office all over the land in the hands of the Northern +States. What a travesty of union! The North a dictator, +the South a satrapy. The Northern man, lord; +the Southern man, a vassal.</p> +<p>But, thank God, the resurrection came; the door-stone +of the tomb was rolled away by the national election of +Cleveland in 1884. “The Southern States are in the +Union, and they shall have their equal rights,” was the +slogan of the triumphant party. Then go to the capital +and you find the first national administration since +Buchanan—Bayard, the champion of the South, in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +first place in the Cabinet, and by his side the Confederate +leaders, Lamar and Garland. About the first act of the +administration was to appoint General Lawton, the quartermaster-general +of the Confederate army, to one of the +most conspicuous embassies in Europe, Curry to Spain +and other Confederates wherever there was a place for +them. The sons of our Southern mothers were no longer +under the ban. Peace, real peace, had come. The Union, +real union, was herself again.</p> +<p>Again in 1892 the electoral votes of the Northern +States alone were sufficient to make Grover Cleveland, the +great pacificator, twice the choice of the solid South, +again President of the United States. Once more there +is a national Cabinet, the South having half of it, with a +Confederate colonel in command of the navy, another +minister to France, another to Mexico, another to Guatemala—Southern +men at Madrid and Constantinople; +and when this country needs a man to represent her in +the crisis in Cuba to a Virginia Lee is given the conspicuous +honor.</p> +<p>The last unjust election law is repealed; the last taint +taken from the fair name of Confederate officers. The +North has extended the right hand of union. The South +has grasped it; and withered be the arm that would tear +those hands asunder.</p> +<h4><i>Image of the Southern Woman Surmounting the +Monument</i></h4> +<p>High above these hands, artist, place the crowning +statue of the Southern woman. Let it be the queenly +form of the proudest of the proud mothers of Southern +chivalry. Let her sweet, calm image face the north,—no +frown on her brow,—no scorn on her lip. Let her +happy, hopeful smile tell the world that Southern womanhood +felt most sadly the Union broken, and hails most +joyfully the Union restored.</p> +<p>My countrymen, we have a country! In the name of +God, our mothers, as they look down from heaven, beseech +you to preserve it.</p> +<p>The art of sculpture was finished in ancient Greece, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +the statue of Venus de Medici will never be surpassed. In +it the artist has put in marble the perfect form, face, +majesty and grace of woman. The ancients in their +sensual materialism adored beauty in form and feature +and many moderns worship at the same shrine. The German +poet Heine, when an invalid in Paris, had himself +carried every day in a roller chair to the Tuilleries, to +gaze upon the marble beauty of Venus de Milo. If in +our age, the artist ever attempts to sculpture the true +woman, the woman with soul, the Christian Psyche, with +heart as perfect as her face, with character more charming +than her form, the modern Praxitiles will take for his +model the Southern woman, from among your mothers +and grandmothers. They are your models in character +now. To you much is given; of you will much be required. +Study your mothers and may Heaven help you +to learn the God-given lesson.</p> +<p>Young men, the model man, Jesus Christ, the divine +Saviour of our world, asked for no carved stone, no +statue to his memory. He wanted no marble cathedral. +He demanded living monuments,—men and women to set +forth in holy lives the lessons of his example. From +childhood He honored his mother, nor did He forget her +on the cross.</p> +<p>With something of his exalted spirit your mothers, who +have gone before you, demand of you not a chiseled +monument, but they do beseech you to honor them in +manly life. Hold sacred the very blood they gave you. +Lay hold of their lofty principles; drink in their noble +spirit. Set forth their glorious patriotism, and you will +be a crown to them, a blessing to your country, and an +honor to your God.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_THEIR_WORK' id='CHAPTER_II_THEIR_WORK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II +<span class='chsub'> <br />THEIR WORK</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='INTRODUCTION_TO_WOMANS_WORK' id='INTRODUCTION_TO_WOMANS_WORK'></a> +<h3>INTRODUCTION TO WOMAN’S WORK</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Throughout the South the women went to work from +the first drum-beat. A great deal of it was done privately, +the left hand itself hardly knowing what the modest, +humble right hand was doing. In nearly every neighborhood +soldiers’ aid societies, or relief associations, were +organized and did systematic and efficient work throughout +the four years. Supplies of every kind were constantly +gathered and forwarded where most needed. The +old men and women did an immense amount of work.</p> +<p>In all the railroad towns, hospitals and wayside houses +were established for the benefit of the travelling soldier. +These were maintained and managed almost exclusively +by the women. They prepared as best they could such +articles as pickles and preserves and other delicacies for +the use of the hospitals. They sent testaments and other +good books and good preachers to the army, and being +nearly all women of practical piety, they helped greatly to +infuse that spirit of patriotism which gave such strength +to the Confederate army. The world has never known +an army in which there were so many earnest, practical +Christians like Jackson, Cobb, Lee, Polk, Price, and +Gordon among the commanding officers, where there +were so many ministers of the gospel of good standing +who were fighting soldiers, and so many men in ranks +who were God-fearing men. The world has never known +an army where so many officers and soldiers came from +homes where there were pious wives, mothers, and sisters. +The inspiration of the knightly hearts of the Confederacy +was home and the inspiration of a pious home was godly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +woman. The world will never know how effective were +the prayers and letters of the women at home in those +great religious revivals with which the Confederate army +was so often and so richly blessed. Thousands of men +who entered the army wicked men went home or to their +graves genuine Christians. The war ended; but the +good woman’s work never ends. Our Confederate +women began immediately to look after the soldiers’ +orphans and the soldiers’ graves. In all directions the +Confederate monuments have been erected mainly by +their efforts. Soldiers’ homes have been established and +in some few of the States homes provided for the Confederate +widows. It is safe to say that women collected +two-thirds of the money raised for all these objects. It +is their dead they are honoring. And they will continue +to break the alabaster box. Let them alone.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_SOUTHERN_WOMANS_SONG' id='THE_SOUTHERN_WOMANS_SONG'></a> +<h3>THE SOUTHERN WOMAN’S SONG</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Confederate Scrap Book.]</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Stitch, stitch, stitch.</p> +<p>Little needle, swiftly fly,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Brightly glitter as you go;</p> +<p>Every time that you pass by</p> +<p class='indent2'>Warms my heart with pity’s glow.</p> +<p>Dreams of comfort that will cheer,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Dreams of courage you will bring,</p> +<p>Through winter’s cold, the volunteer.</p> +<p class='indent2'>Smile on me like flowers in spring.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Stitch, stitch, stitch.</p> +<p>Swiftly, little needle, fly,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Through this flannel, soft and warm;</p> +<p>Though with cold the soldiers sigh,</p> +<p class='indent2'>This will sure keep out the storm.</p> +<p>Set the buttons close and tight,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Out to shut the winter’s damp;</p> +<p>There’ll be none to fix them right</p> +<p class='indent2'>In the soldier’s tented camp.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Stitch, stitch, stitch.</p> +<p>Ah! needle, do not linger;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Close the thread, make fine the knot;</p> +<p>There’ll be no dainty finger</p> +<p class='indent2'>To arrange a seam forgot.</p> +<p>Though small and tiny you may be,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Do all that you are able.</p> +<p>A mouse a lion once set free,</p> +<p class='indent2'>As says the pretty fable.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Stitch, stitch, stitch.</p> +<p>Swiftly, little needle, glide.</p> +<p class='indent2'>Thine’s a pleasant labor;</p> +<p>To clothe the soldier be thy pride,</p> +<p class='indent2'>While he wields the sabre.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>Ours are tireless hearts and hands;</p> +<p class='indent2'>To Southern wives and mothers,</p> +<p>All who join our warlike bands</p> +<p class='indent2'>Are our friends and brothers.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Stitch, stitch, stitch.</p> +<p>Little needle, swiftly fly;</p> +<p class='indent2'>From morning until eve,</p> +<p>As the moments pass thee by,</p> +<p class='indent2'>These substantial comforts weave.</p> +<p>Busy thoughts are at our hearts—</p> +<p class='indent2'>Thoughts of hopeful cheer,</p> +<p>As we toil, till day departs,</p> +<p class='indent2'>For the noble volunteer.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent8'>Quick, quick, quick.</p> +<p>Swiftly, little needle, go;</p> +<p class='indent2'>For our homes’ most pleasant fires</p> +<p>Let a loving greeting flow</p> +<p class='indent2'>To our brothers and our sires;</p> +<p>We have tears for those who fall,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Smiles for those who laugh at fears;</p> +<p>Hope and sympathy for all—</p> +<p class='indent2'>Every noble volunteer.</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_LADIES_OF_RICHMOND' id='THE_LADIES_OF_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>THE LADIES OF RICHMOND</h3> +</div> +<p>The editor of the Lynchburg <i>Republican</i>, writing to his +paper in June, 1862, says:</p> +<p>The ladies of Richmond, as of Lynchburg, and indeed +of the whole country, are making for themselves a fame +which will live in all future history, and brilliantly illuminate +the brightest pages of the Republic’s history.</p> +<p>Discarding all false ceremony and giving full vent to +those feelings and sentiments of devotion which make her +the noblest part of God’s creation and the fondest object +of man’s existence, the ladies of this city from all ranks +have gone into the hospitals and are hourly engaged in +ministering to the wants and relieving the sufferings of +their countrymen.</p> +<p>Mothers and sisters could not be more unremitting in +their attention to their own blood than these women are +to those whom they have never seen before, and may +never see again. They feed them, nurse them, and by +their presence and sympathy cheer and encourage them. +“Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless millions +mourn,” but woman’s sympathy would heal every wound +and make glad every heart.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +<a name='THE_HOSPITAL_AFTER_SEVEN_PINES' id='THE_HOSPITAL_AFTER_SEVEN_PINES'></a> +<h3>THE HOSPITAL AFTER SEVEN PINES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Richmond During the War, pages 135-136.]</p> +<p>On this evening, as a kind woman bent over the stalwart +figure of a noble Georgian, and washed from his +hair and beard the stiffened mud of the Chickahominy, +where he fell from a wound through the upper portion of +the right lung, and then gently bathed the bleeding gash +left by the Minie ball, as he groaned and feebly opened +his eyes, he grasped her hand, and in broken whispers, +faint from suffering, gasping for breath, “I could-bear-all-this-for-myself-alone-but +my-wife and my-six little-ones,” +(and then the large tears rolled down his weather-beaten +cheeks,) and overcome he could only add, “Oh, +God! oh, God!-how will-they endure it?” She bent her +head and wept in sympathy. The tall man’s frame was +shaking with agony. She placed to his fevered lips a +cooling draught, and whispered: “Think of yourself just +now; God may raise you up to them, and if not, He will +provide for and comfort them.” He feebly grasped her +hand once more, and a look of gratitude stole over his +manly face, and he whispered, “God bless you! God bless +you! God bless you! kind stranger!”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='BURIAL_OF_LATANE' id='BURIAL_OF_LATANE'></a> +<h3>BURIAL OF LATANE</h3> +</div> +<blockquote> +<p>[“The next squadron moved to the front under the lamented Captain +Latane, making a most brilliant and successful charge with drawn sabres upon +the enemy’s picked ground, and after a hotly-contested, hand-to-hand conflict +put him to flight, but not until the gallant captain had sealed his devotion to +his native soil with his blood.”—Official Report of the Pamunkey Expedition, +Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, C. S. A., 1862.]</p> +</blockquote> +<p class='center'>[From a private letter.]</p> +<p>Lieutenant Latane carried his brother’s dead body to +Mrs. Brockenbrough’s plantation an hour or two after his +death. On this sad and lonely errand he met a party of +Yankees, who followed him to Mrs. B.’s gate, and stopping +there, told him that as soon as he had placed his +brother’s body in friendly hands he must surrender himself +prisoner. * * * Mrs. B. sent for an Episcopal +clergyman to perform the funeral ceremonies, but the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +enemy would not permit him to pass. Then, with a few +other ladies, a fair-haired little girl, her apron filled with +white flowers, and a few faithful slaves, who stood +reverently near, a pious Virginia matron read the solemn +and beautiful burial service over the cold, still form of +one of the noblest gentlemen and most intrepid officers in +the Confederate army. She watched the sods heaped +upon the coffin-lid, then sinking on her knees, in sight and +hearing of the foe, she committed his soul’s welfare and +the stricken hearts he had left behind him to the mercy of +the “All-Father.”</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“And when Virginia, leaning on her spear,</p> +<p class='indent2'><i>Victrix et vidua</i>, the conflict done,</p> +<p>Shall raise her mailed hand to wipe the tear</p> +<p class='indent2'>That starts as she recalls each martyred son,</p> +<p>No prouder memory her breast shall sway,</p> +<p>Than thine, our early lost, lamented Latane!”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MAKING_CLOTHES_FOR_THE_SOLDIERS' id='MAKING_CLOTHES_FOR_THE_SOLDIERS'></a> +<h3>MAKING CLOTHES FOR THE SOLDIERS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Our Women in the War, pages 453-454.]</p> +<p>Money was almost as unavailable as material with us +for a time. “Uncle Sam’s” treasury was not accessible to +“rebels.” Our government was young, and Confederate +bonds and money yet in their infancy. We could do +nothing more than wait developments, and try to meet +emergencies as they trooped up before us. In the meantime, +children grew apace. Our village stores were +emptied and deserted. Our armies in the field became +grand realities. All resources were cut off. Our government +could poorly provide food and clothing and ammunition +for its armies. Then it was our mothers’ wit was +tested and did in no sort disappoint our expectations. +Spinning-wheels, looms and dye-pots were soon brought +into requisition. Wool of home production was especially +converted, by loving hands, into warm flannels and +heavy garments, with soft scarfs and snugly-fitted leggings, +to shield our dear boys from Virginia’s wintry +blasts and fast-falling snows. Later on, when the wants +and privations of the army grew more pressing, societies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +were formed to provide supplies for the general demand. +Southern homes withheld nothing that could add to the +soldiers’ comfort. Every available fragment of material +was converted into some kind of garment. After the +stores of blankets in each home had been given, carpets +were utilized in their stead and portioned out to the suffering +soldiers. Wool mattresses were ripped open, recarded, +and woven into coverings and clothing. Bits of +new woolen fabrics, left from former garments, were +ravelled, carded, mixed with cotton and spun and knitted +into socks. Old and worn garments were carried through +the same process. Even rabbits’ fur was mixed with +cotton and silk, and appeared again in the form of neat +and comfortable gloves. Begging committees went forth +(and be it truthfully said, the writer never knew of a +single one being turned away empty) to gather up the +offerings from mansion and hamlet, which were soon cut +up, packed, and forwarded with all possible speed to the +soldiers.</p> +<p>And who can tell what pleasure we took in filling boxes +with substantials and such dainties as we could secure for +the hospitals. Old men and little boys were occupied in +winding thread and holding brooches, and even knitting +on the socks when the mystery of “turning the heel” had +been passed. The little spinning-wheel, turned by a +treadle, became a fascination to the girls, and with its +busy hum was mingled oft times the merry strain of +patriotic songs.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Our wagon’s plenty big enough, the running gear is good,</p> +<p>’Tis stiffened with cotton round the sides and made of Southern wood;</p> +<p>Carolina is the driver, with Georgia by her side;</p> +<p>Virginia’ll hold the flag up and we’ll take a ride.”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_INGENUITY_OF_SOUTHERN_WOMEN' id='THE_INGENUITY_OF_SOUTHERN_WOMEN'></a> +<h3>THE INGENUITY OF SOUTHERN WOMEN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Our Women in the War, pages 454-455.]</p> +<p>During all that time, when every woman vied with the +other in working for the soldiers, there were needs at +home too urgent to be disregarded. These, too, had to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +met, and how was not long the question. For those very +women who had been reared in ease and affluence soon +learned practically that “necessity is the mother of invention,” +and the story of their ingenuity, if all told, +might surprise their Northern sisters, who always regarded +them as inefficient, pleasure-loving members of +society. Whatever may have been the fault of their institutions +and rearing, the war certainly brought out the +true woman, and no woman of any age or nation ever +entered, heart and soul, more enthusiastically into their +country’s contest than those who now mourn the “Lost +Cause.” While our armies were victorious in the field +hope lured us on. We bore our share of privations cheerfully +and gladly.</p> +<p>We replaced our worn dresses with homespuns, planning +and devising checks and plaids, and intermingling +colors with the skill of professional “designers.” The +samples we interchanged were homespuns of our last +weaving, not A. T. Stuart’s or John Wanamaker’s +sample envelopes, with their elaborate display of rich and +costly fabrics. Our mothers’ silk stockings, of ante-bellum +date, were ravelled with patience and transformed into +the prettiest of neat-fitting gloves. The writer remembers +never to have been more pleased than she was by the possession +of a trim pair of boots made of the tanned skins +of some half-dozen squirrels. They were so much softer +and finer than the ordinary heavy calf-skin affairs to be +bought at the village “shoe shop,” that no Northern +maiden was ever more pleased with her ten-dollar boots. +Our hats, made of palmetto and rye straw, were becoming +and pretty without lace, tips, or flowers. Our jackets +were made of the fathers’ old-fashioned cloaks, in vogue +some forty years agone—those of that style represented +in the pictures of Mr. Calhoun—doing splendid service by +supplying all the girls in the family at once. We even +made palmetto jewelry of exquisite designs, intermingled +with our hair, that we might keep even with the boys who +wore “palmetto cockades.” The flowers we wore were +nature’s own beautiful, fragrant blossoms, sometimes, +when in a patriotic mood, nestled, with symbolic cotton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +balls. For our calico dresses, if ever so fortunate as to +find one, we sometimes paid a hundred dollars, and for +the spool of cotton that made it from ten to twenty +dollars. The buttons we used were oftentimes cut from +a gourd into sizes required and covered with cloth, they +having the advantage of pasteboard because they were +rounded. On children’s clothes persimmon seed in their +natural state, with two holes drilled through them, were +found both neat and durable. In short, we fastened all +our garments after true Confederate style, without the aid +of Madame Demorest’s guide book or Worth’s Parisian +models, and suffered from none of Miss Flora McFlimsey’s +harassing dilemmas.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_LEE_AND_THE_SOCKS' id='MRS_LEE_AND_THE_SOCKS'></a> +<h3>MRS. LEE AND THE SOCKS</h3> +</div> +<p>R. E. Lee, in his recollections of his father, General +Lee, says:</p> +<p>“His letters to my mother tell how much his men were +in need. My mother was an invalid from rheumatism, +and confined to a roller chair. To help the cause with +her own hands, as far as she could, she was constantly +occupied in knitting socks for the soldiers, and induced +all around her to do the same. She sent them directly to +my father and he always acknowledged them.”</p> +<p>It was well known in the army what great pleasure it +gave the General to distribute these socks.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='FITTING_OUT_A_SOLDIER' id='FITTING_OUT_A_SOLDIER'></a> +<h3>FITTING OUT A SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. Roger A. Pryor’s Reminiscences of Peace and War, pages 131-133.]</p> +<p>When I returned to my father’s home in Petersburg I +found my friends possessed with an intense spirit of +patriotism. The First, Second and Third Virginia were +already mustered into service; my husband was colonel +of the Third Virginia Infantry. The men were to be +equipped for service immediately. All of “the boys” were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +going—the three Manys, Will Johnson, Berry Stainback, +Ned Graham; all the young, dancing set, the young lawyers +and doctors—everybody, in short, except bank presidents, +druggists, a doctor or two (over age), and young +boys under sixteen. To be idle was torture. We women +resolved ourselves into a sewing society, resting not on +Sundays. Sewing-machines were put into the churches, +which became depots for flannel, muslin, strong linen, and +even uniform cloth. When the hour for meeting arrived, +the sewing class would be summoned by the ringing of +the church bell. My dear Agnes was visiting in Petersburg, +and was my faithful ally in all my work. We instituted +a monster sewing class, which we hugely enjoyed, +to meet daily at my home on Market street. My colonel +was to be fitted out as never was colonel before. He was +ordered to Norfolk with his regiment to protect the seaboard. +I was proud of his colonelship, and much exercised +because he had no shoulder-straps. I undertook to +embroider them myself. We had not then decided upon +the star for our colonels’ insignia, and I supposed he +would wear the eagle like all the colonels I had ever +known. We embroidered bullion fringe, cut it in lengths, +and made eagles, probably of some extinct species, for +the like were unknown in Audubon’s time, and have not +since been discovered. However, they were accepted, admired, +and, what is worse, worn.</p> +<p>The Confederate soldier was furnished at the beginning +of the war with a gun, pistol, canteen, tin cup, haversack, +and knapsack—no inconsiderable weight to be borne in a +march. The knapsack contained a fatigue jacket, one or +two blankets, an oil-cloth, several suits of underclothing, +several pairs of white gloves, collars, neckties, and handkerchiefs. +Each mess purchased a mess-chest containing +dishes, bowls, plates, knives, forks, spoons, cruets, spice-boxes, +glasses, etc. Each mess also owned a frying-pan, +oven, coffee-pot, and camp-kettle. The uniforms were of +the finest cadet cloth and gold lace. This outfit—although +not comparable to that of the Federal soldier, many of +whom had “Saratoga” trunks in the baggage train—was +considered sumptuous by the Confederate volunteer. As +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +if these were not enough, we taxed our ingenuity to add +sundry comforts, weighing little, by which we might give +a touch of refinement to the soldier’s knapsack.</p> +<p>There was absolutely nothing which a man might possibly +use that we did not make for them. We embroidered +cases for razors, for soap and sponge, and cute +morocco affairs for needles, thread, and courtplaster, with +a little pocket lined with a bank note. “How perfectly +ridiculous,” do you say? Nothing is ridiculous that helps +anxious women to bear their lot—cheats them with the +hope that they are doing good.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_THIMBLE_BRIGADE' id='THE_THIMBLE_BRIGADE'></a> +<h3>THE THIMBLE BRIGADE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Dickison and His Men, pages 161-162.]</p> +<p>With prayerful hearts, the devoted women of Marion +formed themselves into societies for united efforts in behalf +of our gallant defenders.</p> +<p>At Orange Lake, we formed a Soldiers’ Relief Association, +playfully called the “Thimble Brigade;” and, with +earnest faith in the blessing of God upon our work, we +began our mission of love. With grateful hearts we +labored to provide comforts for the brave soldiers, who +around their campfires were keeping watch for us. The +following notice will be read by our sisterhood with mingled +emotions of pleasure and sadness:</p> +<p>“In this number of the Ocala <i>Home Journal</i> will be +found the proceedings of a meeting of the ladies of the +neighborhood of Orange Lake, held for the purpose of +organizing a ‘Soldiers’ Friend’ Association. They have +not only succeeded in perfecting their organization, but +have already accomplished a great deal for the benefit of +the soldiers. They have made thirty pairs of pants for +the soldiers at Fernandina, the ladies furnishing the +material from their own private stores, besides knitting +socks and making other garments. The manner in which +they have commenced this patriotic work is, indeed, encouraging +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +to all who have the soldier’s welfare at heart, +and we know that they will labor as long as the necessities +of the soldier require it.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='NOBLE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND' id='NOBLE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>NOBLE WOMEN OF RICHMOND</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In A Rebel’s Recollections, pages 66-69.]</p> +<p>In Richmond, when the hospitals were filled with +wounded men brought in from the seven days’ fighting +with McClellan, and the surgeons found it impossible to +dress half the wounds, a band was formed, consisting of +nearly all the married women of the city, who took upon +themselves the duty of going to the hospitals and dressing +wounds from morning till night; and they persisted in +their painful duty until every man was cared for, saving +hundreds of lives, as the surgeons unanimously testified. +When nitre was found to be growing scarce, and the +supply of gunpowder was consequently about to give out, +women all over the land dug up the earth in their smokehouses +and tobacco barns, and with their own hands faithfully +extracted the desired salt, for use in the government +laboratories.</p> +<p>Many of them denied themselves not only delicacies, +but substantial food also, when, by enduring semi-starvation, +they could add to the stock of food at the command +of the subsistence officers. I myself knew more than one +houseful of women, who, from the moment that food +began to grow scarce, refused to eat meat or drink coffee, +living thenceforth only upon vegetables of a speedily perishable +sort, in order that they might leave the more for +the soldiers in the field. When a friend remonstrated +with one of them, on the ground that her health, already +frail, was breaking down utterly for want of proper diet, +she replied, in a quiet, determined way, “I know that very +well; but it is little that I can do, and I must do that little +at any cost. My health and life are worth less than those +of my brothers, and if they give theirs to the cause, why +should not I do the same? I would starve to death +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +cheerfully if I could feed one soldier more by doing so, +but the things I eat can’t be sent to camp. I think it a sin +to eat anything that can be used for rations.” And she +meant what she said, too, as a little mound in the church-yard +testifies.</p> +<p>Every Confederate remembers gratefully the reception +given him when he went into any house where these +women were. Whoever he might be, and whatever his +plight, if he wore the gray, he was received, not as a +beggar or tramp, not even as a stranger, but as a son of +the house, for whom it held nothing too good, and whose +comfort was the one care of all its inmates, even though +their own must be sacrificed in securing it. When the +hospitals were crowded, the people earnestly besought permission +to take the men to their houses and to care for +them there, and for many months almost every house +within a radius of a hundred miles of Richmond held one +or more wounded men as especially honored guests.</p> +<p>“God bless these Virginia women!” said a general officer +from one of the cotton States, one day; “they’re +worth a regiment apiece.” And he spoke the thought of +the army, except that their blessing covered the whole +country as well as Virginia.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='FROM_MATOACA_GAYS_ARTICLES_IN_THE_PHILADELPHIA_TIM' id='FROM_MATOACA_GAYS_ARTICLES_IN_THE_PHILADELPHIA_TIM'></a> +<h3>FROM MATOACA GAY’S ARTICLES IN THE <i>PHILADELPHIA TIMES</i></h3> +</div> +<p>In a diary kept at the time by an official in the War +Department I find this entry:</p> +<p><i>May 10, 1861.</i>—The ladies are sewing everywhere, and +are full of ardor. Love affairs are plentiful, but the ladies +are postponing all engagements till their lovers have +fought the Yankees. Their influence is very great. Day +after day they go in crowds to the fair grounds, where the +First South Carolina Volunteers are encamped, showering +upon them smiles and every delicacy which the city +can afford. They wine them and dine them, and they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +deserve it, for they are just from the taking of Sumter, +and have won historic distinction. I was presented to +several very distinguished looking young men, all of them +privates, and was told by their captain that many of them +were worth from a hundred thousand to half a million. +These are the men the <i>Tribune</i> thought would all of them +want to be captains; but that is only one of the hallucinations +under which the North is now laboring.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND' id='THE_WOMEN_OF_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>THE WOMEN OF RICHMOND</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By Phoebe Y. Pember, in Hospital Life.]</p> +<p>But of what importance was the fact that I was homeless, +houseless and moneyless, in Richmond, the heart of +Virginia? Who ever wanted for aught that kind hearts, +generous hands or noble hospitality could supply, that it +was not here offered without even the shadow of a patronage +that could have made it distasteful? What women +were ever so refined in feeling and so unaffected in manner; +so willing to share all that wealth gives, and so little +infected with the pride of purse which bestows that +power? It was difficult to hide one’s needs from them; +they found them out and ministered to them with their +quiet simplicity and the innate nobility which gave to +their generosity the coloring of a favor received, not +conferred.</p> +<p>Would that I could do more than thank the dear friends +who made my life for four years so happy and contented; +who never made me feel by word or act that my +self-imposed occupation was otherwise than one which +would ennoble any woman. If ever any aid was given +through my own exertions, or any labor rendered effective +by me for the good of the South—if any sick soldier ever +benefited by my happy face or pleasant smiles at his bedside, +or death was ever soothed by gentle words of hope +and tender care—such results were only owing to the +cheering encouragement I received from them.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +<a name='TWO_GEORGIA_HEROINES' id='TWO_GEORGIA_HEROINES'></a> +<h3>TWO GEORGIA HEROINES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mary L. Jewett, Corresponding Secretary Clement Evans Chapter, U. D. C.]</p> +<p>“To such women as these should a shaft of precious +stone be erected.”</p> +<p>’Twas thus an old soldier spoke of the wife of Judge +Alexander Herrington, of Dougherty County, Georgia, +many years ago, when the heroism of the Southern +women was mentioned. She was president of the ladies’ +relief association during the war, and as such had thirty +machines brought to her home and the neighbors gathered +together and made leggings and clothing for “our boys,” +as they were called. Many and many days did she work +with bleeding hands, caused by the constant use of the +shears, for with her own hands she did the cutting for the +others to stitch. This was a work that is far beyond the +understanding of the present day, for she had never +known a day’s toil, being the wife of a wealthy planter +and slave owner. Not only did she and Judge Herrington +give money, cattle, cotton, and slaves to be used in the +erecting of breastworks, but he being too old, and their +only son being a mere child, they bravely sent two of their +daughters to the field as army nurses, one of which served +through the entire war. After the war, with slaves and +money gone, her husband died, and it was then that she +and her children suffered through the days of reconstruction, +with never a murmur from her lips for the things +she had given up and lost.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_SEVEN_DAYS_BATTLE' id='THE_SEVEN_DAYS_BATTLE'></a> +<h3>THE SEVEN DAYS’ BATTLE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. R. A. Pryor’s Reminiscences.]</p> +<p>All the afternoon the dreadful guns shook the earth and +thrilled our souls with horror. I shut myself in my +darkened room. At twilight I had a note from Governor +Letcher, telling me a fierce battle was raging, and inviting +me to come to the governor’s mansion. From the roof +one might see the flash of musket and artillery.</p> +<p>No; I did not wish to see the infernal fires. I preferred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +to watch and wait alone in my room. And so the +night wore on and I waited and watched. Before the +dawn a hurried footstep brought a message from the +battlefield to my door:</p> +<p>“The general, madame, is safe and well. Colonel Scott +has been killed. The general has placed a guard around +his body, and he will be sent here early to-morrow. The +general bids me say he will not return. The fight will be +renewed, and will continue until the enemy is driven +away.”</p> +<p>My resolution was taken. My children were safe with +their grandmother. I would write. I would ask that +every particle of my household linen, except a change, +should be rolled into bandages, all my fine linen be sent +to me for compresses, and all forwarded as soon as possible. +I would enter the new hospital which had been improvised +in Kent & Paine’s warehouse, and would remain +there as a nurse as long as the armies were fighting +around Richmond.</p> +<p>But the courier was passing on his rounds with news to +others. Presently Fanny Poindexter, in tears, knocked +at my door.</p> +<p>“She is bearing it like a brave, Christian woman.”</p> +<p>“She? Who? Tell me quick.”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Scott. I had to tell her. She simply said, ‘I +shall see him once more.’ The general wrote to her from +the battlefield and told her how nobly her husband died, +leading his men in the thick of the fight, and how he had +helped to save the city.”</p> +<p>Alas! that the city should have needed saving. What +had Mrs. Scott and her children done? Why should they +suffer? Who was to blame for it all?</p> +<p>Kent & Paine’s warehouse was a large, airy building, +which had, I understood, been offered by the proprietors +for a hospital immediately after the battle of Seven Pines. +McClellan’s advance upon Richmond had heavily taxed +the capacity of the hospitals already established.</p> +<p>When I reached the warehouse, early on the morning +after the fight at Mechanicsville, I found cots on the +lower floor already occupied, and other cots in process of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +preparation. An aisle between the rows of narrow beds +stretched to the rear of the building. Broad stairs led to +a story above, where other cots were being laid.</p> +<p>The volunteer matron was a beautiful woman, Mrs. +Wilson. When I was presented to her as a candidate for +admission, her serene eyes rested doubtfully upon me for +a moment. She hesitated. Finally she said:</p> +<p>“The work is very exacting. There are so few of us +that our nurses must do anything and everything—make +beds, wait upon anybody, and often a half a dozen at a +time.”</p> +<p>“I will engage to do all that,” I declared, and she permitted +me to go to a desk at the farther end of the room +and enter my name.</p> +<p>As I passed by the rows of occupied cots, I saw a nurse +kneeling beside one of them, holding a pan for a surgeon. +The red stump of an amputated arm was held over it. +The next thing I knew I was myself lying on a cot, and a +spray of cold water was falling over my face. I had +fainted. Opening my eyes, I found the matron standing +beside me.</p> +<p>“You see it is as I thought. You are unfit for this +work. One of the nurses will conduct you home.”</p> +<p>The nurse’s assistance was declined, however. I had +given trouble enough for one day, and had only interrupted +those who were really worth something. A night’s +vigil had been poor preparation for hospital work. I resolved +I would conquer my culpable weakness. It was all +very well,—these heroics in which I indulged, these +paroxysms of patriotism, this adoration of the defenders +of my fireside. The defender in the field had naught to +hope from me in case he should be wounded in my defence.</p> +<p>I took myself well in hand. Why had I fainted? I +thought it was because of the sickening, dead odor in the +hospital, mingled with that of acids and disinfectants. Of +course, this would always be there—and worse, as +wounded men filled the rooms. I provided myself with +sal volatile and spirits of camphor,—we wore pockets in +our gowns in those days,—and thus armed I presented +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +myself again to Mrs. Wilson. She was as kind as she +was refined and intelligent. “I will give you a place near +the door,” she said, “and you must run out into the air +at the first hint of faintness. You will get over it, see if +you don’t.”</p> +<p>Ambulances began to come in and unload at the door. +I soon had occupation enough, and a few drops of camphor +on my handkerchief tided me over the worst. The +wounded men crowded in and sat patiently waiting their +turn. One fine little fellow of fifteen unrolled a handkerchief +from his wrist to show me his wound. “There’s a +bullet in there,” he said proudly. “I am going to have it +cut out, and then go right back to the fight. Isn’t it lucky +it’s my left hand?”</p> +<p>As the day wore on I became more and more absorbed +in my work. I had, too, the stimulus of a reproof from +Miss Deborah Couch, a brisk, efficient, middle-aged lady, +who asked no quarter and gave none. She was standing +beside me a moment, with a bright tin pan filled with +pure water, into which I foolishly dipped a finger to see +if it were warm, to learn if I would be expected to provide +warm water when I should be called upon to assist the +surgeon.</p> +<p>“This water, madame, was prepared for a raw wound,” +said Miss Deborah, sternly. “I must now make the surgeon +wait until I get more.”</p> +<p>Miss Deborah, in advance of her time, was a germ +theorist. My touch evidently was contaminating.</p> +<p>As she charged down the aisle, with a pan of water in +her hand, everybody made way. She had known of my +“fine-lady faintness,” as she termed it, and I could see +she despised me for it. She had volunteered, as all the +nurses had, and she meant business. She had no patience +with nonsense, and truly she was worth more than all the +rest of us.</p> +<p>“Where can I get a little ice?” I one day ventured of +Miss Deborah.</p> +<p>“Find it,” she rejoined, as she rapidly passed on; but +find it I never did. Ice was an unknown luxury until +brought to us later from private houses.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></div> +<p>But I found myself thoroughly reinstated—with surgeons, +matrons and Miss Deborah—when I appeared a +few days later, accompanied by a man bearing a basket of +clean, well-rolled bandages, with promise of more to +come. The Petersburg women had gone to work with a +will upon my table-cloths, sheets, and dimity counterpanes—and +even the chintz furniture covers. My springlike +green and white chintz bandages appeared on many +a manly arm and leg. My fine linen underwear and napkins +were cut, by the sewing circle at the Spotswood, according +to the surgeons’ directions, into two lengths two +inches wide, then folded two inches, doubling back and +forth in a smaller fold each time, until they formed +pointed wedges or compresses.</p> +<p>Such was the sudden and overwhelming demand for +such things that but for my own and similar donations +of household linen the wounded men would have suffered. +The war had come upon us suddenly. Many of +our ports were already closed and we had no stores laid +up for such an emergency.</p> +<p>The bloody battle of Gaines’ Mill soon followed. Then +Frazier’s farm, within the week, and at once the hospital +was filled to overflowing. Every night a courier brought +me tidings of my husband. When I saw him at the door +my heart would die within me. One morning John came +in for certain supplies. After being reassured as to his +master’s safety, I asked, “Did he have a comfortable +night, John?”</p> +<p>“He sholy did. Marse Roger sart’nly was comfortable +las’ night. He slep’ on de field ’twixt two daid horses.”</p> +<p>The women who worked in Kent & Paine’s hospital +never seemed to weary. After a while the wise matron +assigned us hours, and we went on duty with the regularity +of trained nurses. My hours were from 7 to 7 +during the day, with the promise of night service should +I be needed. Efficient, kindly colored women assisted us. +Their motherly manner soothed the prostrate soldier, +whom they always addressed as “son.”</p> +<p>Many fine young fellows lost their lives for want of +prompt attention. They never murmured. They would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +give way to those who seemed to be more seriously +wounded than themselves, and the latter would recover, +while from the slighter wounds gangrene would supervene +from delay. Very few men ever walked away from +that hospital. They died, or friends found quarters for +them in Richmond. None complained. Unless a poor +man grew delirious, he never groaned. There was an +atmosphere of gentle kindness; a suppression of emotion +for the sake of others.</p> +<p>Every morning the Richmond ladies brought for our +patients such luxuries as could be procured in that scarce +time. The city was in peril, and distant farmers feared +to bring in their fruits and vegetables. One day a patient-looking, +middle-aged man said to me, “What would I not +give for a bowl of chicken broth like my mother used to +give me when I was a sick boy?” I perceived one of the +angelic matrons of Richmond at a distance, stooping over +the cots, and found my way to her and said, “Dear Mrs. +Maben, have you a chicken? And could you send some +broth to No. 39?” She promised, and I returned with +her promise to the poor, wounded fellow. He shook his +head. “To-morrow will be too late,” he said.</p> +<p>I had forgotten the circumstance next day, but at noon +I happened to look toward cot No. 39, and there was +Mrs. Maben herself. She had brought the chicken broth +in a pretty china bowl, with napkin and silver spoon, and +was feeding my doubting Thomas, to his great satisfaction.</p> +<p>It was at this hospital, I have reason to believe, that the +little story originated, which was deemed good enough to +be claimed by other hospitals, of the young girl who approached +a sick man with a pan of water in her hand and +a towel over her arm.</p> +<p>“Mayn’t I wash your face?” said the girl, timidly.</p> +<p>“Well, lady, you may if you want to,” said the man, +wearily. “It has been washed fourteen times this morning. +It can stand another time, I reckon.”</p> +<p>I discovered that I had not succeeded, despite many efforts, +in winning Miss Deborah. I learned that she was +affronted because I had not shared my offerings of jelly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +and fruit with her, for her special patients. Whenever I +ventured to ask a loan from her, of a pan or a glass of +water, or the little things of which we never had enough, +she would reply, “I must keep them for the nurses who +understand reciprocity. Reciprocity is the rule some persons +never seem to comprehend.” When this was hammered +into my slow perception, I rose to the occasion. I +turned over the entire contents of a basket the landlord +of the Spotswood had given me to Miss Deborah, and she +made my path straight before me ever afterward.</p> +<p>At the end of a week the matron had promoted me. +Instead of carving the fat bacon, to be served with corn +bread, for the hospital dinner, or standing between two +rough men to keep away the flies, or fetching water, or +spreading sheets on cots, I was assigned to regular duty +with one patient.</p> +<p>The first of these proved to be a young Colonel Coppens, +of my husband’s brigade. I could comfort him very +little, for he was wounded past recovery. I spoke little +French, and could only try to keep him, as far as possible, +from annoyance. To my great relief, place was found for +him in a private family. There he soon died—the gallant +fellow I had admired on his horse a few months before.</p> +<p>Then I was placed beside the cot of Mr. (or Captain) +Boyd, of Mecklenburg, and was admonished by the +matron not to leave him alone. He was the most patient +sufferer in the world—gentle, courteous, always considerate, +never complaining.</p> +<p>“Are you in pain, Captain?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” he would say gently.</p> +<p>One day when I returned from my “rest,” I found the +matron sitting beside him.</p> +<p>She motioned me to take her place, and then added, +“No, no; I will not leave him.”</p> +<p>The captain’s eyes were closed, and he sighed wearily +at intervals. Presently he whispered slowly: “There +everlasting spring abides;” then sighed, and seemed to +sleep for a moment.</p> +<p>The matron felt his pulse and raised a warning hand. +The sick man’s whisper went on: “Bright fields beyond +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green;” and +in a moment more the Christian soldier had crossed the +river and lain down to rest under the trees.</p> +<p>Each of the battles of those seven days brought a harvest +of wounded to our hospital. I used to veil myself +closely as I walked to and from my hotel, that I might +shut out the dreadful sights in the streets—the squads of +prisoners, and worst of all, the open wagons in which the +dead were piled. Once I did see one of these dreadful +wagons. In it a stiff arm was raised, and shook as it was +driven down the street, as though the dead owner appealed +to Heaven for vengeance—a horrible sight, never +to be forgotten.</p> +<p>After one of the bloody battles—I know not if it was +Gaines’ Mill or Frazier’s Farm or Malvern Hill—A splendid +young officer, Colonel Brokenborough, was taken to +our hospital, shot almost to pieces. He was borne up the +stairs and placed in a cot—his broken limbs in supports +swinging from the ceiling. The wife of General Mahone +and I were permitted to assist in nursing him. A young +soldier from the camp was detailed to help us, and a +clergyman was in constant attendance, coming at night +that we might have rest. Our patient held a court in his +corner of the hospital. Such a dear, gallant, cheery fellow, +handsome, and with a grand air even as he lay prostrate. +Nobody ever heard him complain. He would welcome +us in the morning with the brightest smile. His +aid said, “He watches the head of the stairs and calls up +that look for your benefit.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” he said one day, “you can’t guess what’s going +to happen. Some ladies have been here and left all these +roses, and cologne, and such; and somebody has sent +champagne. We are going to have a party.”</p> +<p>Ah! but we knew he was very ill. We were bidden to +watch him every minute and not be deceived by his own +spirits. Mrs. Mahone spent her life hunting for ice. My +constant care was to keep his canteen—to which he clung +with affection—filled with fresh water from a spring not +far away, and I learned to give it to him so well that I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +allowed no one to lift his head for his drink during my +hours.</p> +<p>One day, when we were alone, I was fanning him, and +thought he was asleep. He said gravely, “Mrs. Pryor, +beyond that curtain they hung up yesterday, poor young +Mitchell is lying. They don’t know. But I heard when +they brought him in. As I lie here I listen to his breathing. +I haven’t heard it now for some time. Would you +mind seeing if he is all right?”</p> +<p>I passed behind the curtain. The young soldier was +dead. His wide-open eyes seemed to meet mine in mute +appeal. I had never seen or touched a dead man, but I +laid my hands upon his eyelids and closed them. I was +standing thus when his nurse, a young volunteer like +myself, came to me.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t do that,” she said. “I went for the doctor. +I’m so glad you could do it.”</p> +<p>When I returned Colonel Brokenborough asked no +questions and I knew that his keen senses had already instructed +him.</p> +<p>To be cheerful and uncomplaining was the unwritten +law of our hospital. No bad news was ever mentioned; +no foreboding or anxiety. Mrs. Mahone was one day +standing beside Colonel Brokenborough when a messenger +from the front suddenly announced that General +Mahone had received a flesh wound. Commanding herself +instantly, she exclaimed merrily: “Flesh wound. +Now you all know that is just impossible.”</p> +<p>The general had no flesh. He was thin and attenuated +as he was brave.</p> +<p>As Colonel Brokenborough grew weaker, I felt self-reproach +that no one had offered to write letters for him. +His friend the clergyman had said to me: “That poor +boy is engaged to a lovely young girl. I wonder what is +best? Would it grieve him to speak of her. You ladies +have so much tact; you might bear it in mind. An opportunity +might offer for you to discover how he feels +about it.”</p> +<p>The next time I was alone with him I ventured: “Now, +Colonel, one mustn’t forget absent friends, you know, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +even if fair ladies do bring perfumes and roses and what +not. I have some ink and paper here. Shall I write a +letter for you? Tell me what to say.”</p> +<p>He turned his head and with a half-amused smile of +perfect intelligence looked at me for a long time. Then +an upward look of infinite tenderness; but the message +was never sent—never needed from a true heart like this.</p> +<p>One night I was awakened from my sleep by a knock +at my door, and a summons to “come to Colonel Brokenborough.” +When I reached his bedside I found the surgeon, +the clergyman, and the colonel’s aid. The patient +was unconscious; the end was near. We sat in silence. +Once, when he stirred, I slipped my hand under his head, +and put his canteen once more to his lips. After a long +time his breathing simply ceased, with no evidence of +pain. We waited awhile, and then the young soldier who +had been detailed to nurse him rose, crossed the room, +and stooping over, kissed me on my forehead, and went +out to his duty in the ranks.</p> +<p>Two weeks later I was in my room, resting after a hard +day, when a haggard officer, covered with mud and dust, +entered. It was my husband. “My men are all dead,” he +said, with anguish, and, falling across the bed, he gave +vent to the passionate grief of his heart.</p> +<p>Thousands of Confederate soldiers were killed, thousands +wounded. Richmond was saved!</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='DEATH_OF_MRS_SARAH_K_ROWE_THE_SOLDIERS_FRIEND' id='DEATH_OF_MRS_SARAH_K_ROWE_THE_SOLDIERS_FRIEND'></a> +<h3>DEATH OF MRS. SARAH K. ROWE, “THE SOLDIERS’ FRIEND”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Orangeburg, S. C.</span>, <i>June 2, 1884</i>.</p> +<p>I feel warranted in informing you of the death of Mrs. +Sarah K. Rowe, which occurred yesterday, the 1st of +June, at her country home in this county. Mrs. Rowe was +known for four and a half years, ’61 to ’65, as “the +soldiers’ friend.” I detract nothing from great women +all over the South, Cornelias of heroic type, when I state +that Mrs. Rowe was pre-eminently the soldiers’ friend. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +If this should meet the eye of Hood’s Texans, of Polk’s +Tennesseeans, of Morgan’s Kentuckians, or of Pickett’s +Virginians, any of whom passed on the South Carolina +Railroad during the war, her face beaming with benevolence, +her arms loaded with food, will be remembered as +one of the sunny events of a dark time. From the first +note of war Mrs. Rowe gave all she had and could collect +by wonderful energy to the soldiers. She had her organized +squads. The gay, strong soldier to Virginia was fed +and cheered on; the mangled and sick were nursed and +cared for. She had a mother’s blessing for the brave; a +mother’s tears and sympathy for the dying and the dead. +Mrs. Rowe emphatically lived and spent herself for the +cause, and when it failed, like a noble woman she submitted, +with the remark, “It is all right.” The sight of a +bandaged head or limb under her soft touch was an everyday +picture. The echo of a thousand cheers as the troop +trains passed her was recurring every day. She bandaged +and waved God-speed as well. A few days ago Mrs. +Rowe showed by request a part of her great legacy—the +letters from the soldiers she had nursed to life again. +Truly her reward was rich. She passed away, of paralysis, +at a ripe old age. The soldiers and survivors buried +her. The Young and “Old Guard” lowered her remains +to mother earth. When Fame makes up its roll her +precious name should stand out—the soldiers’ friend.</p> +<p class='sig1'>Yours truly,<br /> + <span class='smcap'>John A. Hamilton</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='YOU_WAIT' id='YOU_WAIT'></a> +<h3>“YOU WAIT”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember, in Hospital Life.]</p> +<p>Pleasant episodes often occurred to vary disappointments +and lighten duties of hospital life.</p> +<p>“Kin you writ a letter?” drawled a whining voice from +a bed in one of the wards, a cold day in ’62.</p> +<p>The speaker was an up-country Georgian, one of the +kind called “Goobers” by the soldiers generally—lean, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +yellow, attenuated, with wispy strands of hair hanging +over his high, thin cheek-bones. He put out a hand to +detain me and the nails were like claws.</p> +<p>“Why do you not let the nurse cut your nails?”</p> +<p>“Because I aren’t got any spoon, and I use them instead.”</p> +<p>“Will you let me have your hair cut then? You can’t +get well with all that dirty hair hanging about your eyes +and ears.”</p> +<p>“No, I can’t git my hair cut, kase as how I promised my +mammy that I would let it grow till the war be over. Oh, +it’s unlucky to cut it.”</p> +<p>“Then I can’t write any letter for you. Do what I +wish you to do, and then I will oblige you.”</p> +<p>This was plain talking. The hair was cut (I left the +nails for another day), my portfolio brought, and sitting +by the side of his bed I waited for further orders. They +came with a formal introduction,—“for Mrs. Marthy +Brown.”</p> +<p>“My dear mammy:</p> +<p>“I hope this finds you well, as it leaves me well, and I +hope that I shall git a furlough Christmas, and come and +see you, and I hope you will keep well, and all the folks +be well by that time, as I hopes to be well myself. This +leaves me in good health, as I hope it will find you and—”</p> +<p>But here I paused as his mind seemed to be going round +in a circle, and asked him a few questions about his home, +his position during the last summer’s campaign, how he +got sick, and where his brigade was at that time. Thus +furnished with some material to work upon, the letter +proceeded rapidly. Four sides were conscientiously +filled, for no soldier would think a letter worth sending +home that showed any blank paper. Transcribing his +name, the number of his ward and proper address, so that +an answer might reach him—the composition was read to +him. Gradually his pale face brightened, a sitting posture +was assumed with difficulty (for, in spite of his determined +effort to write a letter “to be well,” he was far +from convalescence). As I folded and directed it, contributed +the expected five-cent stamp, and handed it to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +him, he gazed cautiously around to be sure there were no +listeners.</p> +<p>“Did you writ all that?” he asked, whispering, but with +great emphasis.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Did I say all that?”</p> +<p>“I think you did.”</p> +<p>A long pause of undoubted admiration—astonishment—ensued. +What was working in that poor mind? +Could it be that Psyche had stirred one of the delicate +plumes of her wing and touched that dormant soul?</p> +<p>“Are you married?” The harsh voice dropped very +low.</p> +<p>“I am not. At least, I am a widow.”</p> +<p>He rose still higher in bed. He pushed away desperately +the tangled hay on his brow. A faint color fluttered +over the hollow cheek, and stretching out a long +piece of bone with a talon attached, he gently touched my +arm and with constrained voice whispered mysteriously:</p> +<p>“You wait!”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='ANNANDALETWO_HEROINES_OF_MISSISSIPPI' id='ANNANDALETWO_HEROINES_OF_MISSISSIPPI'></a> +<h3>ANNANDALE—TWO HEROINES OF MISSISSIPPI</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By Anna B. A. Brown, in Memphis Commercial World.]</p> +<p>In these hurried days, when we spend the major portion +of our lives trying to keep up with the electric currents +that control the universe, it is good to be able to turn +aside for a while in the byways of the South and feel the +restfulness of old plantation life, whether it be a reality or +an echo from the past. A day spent in touch with old +Southern home life is a day full of restful peace and +happy memories.</p> +<p>In Madison County, Mississippi, one finds many bits of +ante-bellum life that the turbulent tide of commerce has +not yet swept away—big plantations, historic old mansions, +tumble-down slave quarters—that are the abiding +proofs of the prosperity and hospitality of a people who +lived and loved when knighthood was yet in flower, and +whose children live yet to preserve the old traditions. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +Many of the old plantations are still tilled by the descendants +of the original owners. Many have passed into +stranger’s hands. Some stand tenantless and lonely, with +ghostly visitants slipping at midnight down the great +stairways to tread a stately measure on the ball floor, a +silent assemblage of long-ago belles and beaux returned +from the cities of the dead or from the still trenches of +Seven Pines, Chickamauga, or Shiloh.</p> +<p>One of these silent homes is Annandale, a bit of historic +Mississippi architecture that stands near Canton, once +the home of Southern chivalry and romance, now empty, +save for the memories that cluster thickly within its walls. +Annandale is the property, and was until recently the +home of the Mississippi branch of the Johnstone family, +and preserves to memory the name of the county in Scotland +that cradled the ancestors who bore this illustrious +name. It is still known as their home, though Vicksburg +now claims the daughter of the house, and only in the +summers are the doors opened again for that lavish hospitality +for which the old place was noted. Two brothers +of the Johnstone family came over from Scotland in 1734, +having been sent by George III, on business of great import +to the colonies. One had the appointment of governor +to his majesty’s colony of North Carolina, the other +that of surveyor-general. The Johnstone family remained +loyal to their king as long as native pride would +permit, and then, true to the spirit that demanded the +Magna Charta at Runnymede centuries before, they went +to the American settlements in the fight for liberty. They +were prominent in the Revolution, and after the war took +part in the political work of building up the nation.</p> +<p>John T. Johnstone, a prominent member of this family, +moved from North Carolina to Mississippi in 1836 and +bought large tracts of land in Madison County. On the +plantation near Annandale he built a comfortable home—a +fine house for those days of pioneer effort. His neighbors +were the families of Hardeman, Hinton, Ricks, Winters +and Christmas, and there are still marvelous tales +told in that locality of the lavish manner of living, the +wonderful hospitality dispensed and the gay companies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +that assembled in the old home. A few years of this +charmed life Mr. Johnstone called his, and then he was +gathered to his illustrious fathers, and the burden of this +great estate fell on the shoulders of his young widow. +She stood the test of generalship, as other Southern +women of her day have done, and the affairs of the plantation, +the slave quarters and the household moved as +smoothly as clock work and success smiled on her. The +material side of her plantation’s progress did not overshadow +the religious side, and services for bond and free +were held daily in a gothic church on the estate, the +chapel of the cross which Mrs. Johnstone had erected in +memory of her husband. The daughter of the house was +carefully educated, and as she neared womanhood Mrs. +Johnstone had a new home built, the present Annandale, +and the same lavish hospitality was continued.</p> +<p>Then came the war. There was no husband, brother +or son to send to the front, but the women, true to the +patriotic sentiments of their house, gave of their best. +The big mansion was turned into a factory for supplying +Confederate needs. Mrs. Johnstone and her fair daughter, +Helen, became the head of a busy body of working +women, who gave of their time and talent for the South. +All day was heard the whir of spinning-wheels, the slipping +of the shuttles in the looms; all day busy fingers +carded, wove, spun and sewed, that the soldiers might be +made more comfortable. One company of soldiers was +equipped throughout the war solely at Miss Johnstone’s +expense, while she and her mother furnished clothing to +two hundred others. The setting of dainty stitches, the +manufacture of rolled and whipped ruffles, were laid aside +for the time. The rich carpets were torn from the floors +and made into blankets; the rare bronzes and brasses +were torn from their pedestals or their fastenings and +sent to the foundries to be made into cannon; silk dresses +were transformed into banners to lead the gray-clad men +to victory, and dainty linen and cambric garments and +rare household napery and linen were ruthlessly torn in +strips to bandage the wounds of the men in the hospitals. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +The granaries, smokehouses, and wine cellars gave up +their stores for the Confederacy, the wealth of these two +loyal women being laid gladly on their country’s altar. +Yet, through all this troublous season, hospitality and +merriment still reigned. The rebel lads adored the loyal +women; the Union soldiers tried more than once to burn +the house that sheltered such secessionists.</p> +<p>During the war the fair daughter of the house was married +to Rev. George Carroll Harris, of Nashville, and for +many years rector of Christ Church, and widely known +throughout the South.</p> +<p>In 1880 Mrs. Johnstone died, and historic Annandale +passed into her daughter’s hands, and is still owned by +her. A few years ago the son of Dr. and Mrs. Harris, +George Harris, married Miss Cecile Nugent, of Jackson, +Mississippi, and they live on his place in the Delta, and +with the marriage of the daughter Helen to the son of +the late Bishop Thompson the younger generation of +Annandale closed another chapter of romances for the +old home. But even though the windows are darkened +and no material form passes daily over the threshold, the +inner air is still palpitant with memories, and who knows +what gay revels the ghostly companies of the past may +not hold in the grand salon when midnight has come and +the human world is wrapped in slumber?</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_PLANTATION_HEROINE' id='A_PLANTATION_HEROINE'></a> +<h3>A PLANTATION HEROINE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Soldier Stories, pages 203-205.]</p> +<p>It was nearing the end. Every resource of the Southern +States had been taxed to the point of exhaustion. +The people had given up everything they had for “the +cause.” Under the law of a “tax in kind,” they had surrendered +all they could spare of food products of every +character. Under an untamable impulse of patriotism +they had surrendered much more than they could spare in +order to feed the army.</p> +<p>It was at such a time that I went to my home county on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +a little military business. I stopped for dinner at a house, +the lavish hospitality of which had been a byword in the +old days. I found before me at dinner the remnants of +a cold boiled ham, some mustard greens, which we Virginians +called “salad,” a pitcher of buttermilk, some corn +pones and—nothing else. I carved the ham, and offered +to serve it to the three women of the household. But they +all declined. They made their dinner on salad, buttermilk, +and corn bread, the latter eaten very sparingly, as I +observed. The ham went only to myself and to the three +convalescent wounded soldiers who were guests in the +house. Wounded men were at that time guests in every +house in Virginia.</p> +<p>I lay awake that night and thought over the circumstance. +The next morning I took occasion to have a talk +on the old familiar terms with the young woman of the +family, with whom I had been on a basis of friendship in +the old days that even permitted me to kiss her upon due +and proper occasion.</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you take some ham last night?” I asked +urgently.</p> +<p>“Oh, I didn’t want it,” she replied.</p> +<p>“Now, you know you are fibbing,” I said. “Tell me +the truth, won’t you?”</p> +<p>She blushed, and hesitated. Presently she broke down +and answered frankly: “Honestly, I did want the ham. +I have hungered for meat for months. But I mustn’t eat +it, and I won’t. You see the army needs all the food +there is, and more. We women can’t fight, though I +don’t see at all why they shouldn’t let us, and so we are +trying to feed the fighting men—and there aren’t any +others. We’ve made up our minds not to eat anything +that can be sent to the front as rations.”</p> +<p>“You are starving yourselves,” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Oh, no,” she said. “And if we were, what would it +matter? Haven’t Lee’s soldiers starved many a day? +But we aren’t starving. You see we had plenty of salad +and buttermilk last night. And we even ate some of the +corn bread. I must stop that, by the way, for corn meal +is a good ration for the soldiers.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +A month or so later this frail but heroic young girl was +laid away in the Grub Hill church-yard.</p> +<p>Don’t talk to me about the “heroism” that braves a fire +of hell under enthusiastic impulse. That young girl did a +higher self-sacrifice than any soldier who fought on either +side during the war ever dreamed of doing.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='LUCY_ANN_COX' id='LUCY_ANN_COX'></a> +<h3>LUCY ANN COX</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 22, pages 54-55. From the Richmond +<i>Star</i>, July 21, 1894.]</p> +<p>On the evening of October 15th an entertainment was +given in Fredericksburg, Virginia, to raise funds to erect +a monument to the memory of Mrs. Lucy Ann Cox, who, +at the commencement of the war, surrendered all the comfort +of her father’s home, and followed the fortunes of +her husband, who was a member of Company A, Thirteenth +Virginia Regiment, until the flag of the Southern +Confederacy was furled at Appomattox. No march was +too long or weather too inclement to deter this patriotic +woman from doing what she considered her duty. She +was with her company and regiment on their two forays +into Maryland, and her ministering hand carried comfort +to many a wounded and worn soldier. While Company +A was the object of her untiring solicitude, no Confederate +ever asked assistance from Mrs. Cox but it was cheerfully +rendered.</p> +<p>She marched as the infantry did, seldom taking advantage +of offered rides in ambulances and wagon trains. +When Mrs. Cox died, a few years ago, it was her latest +expressed wish that she be buried with military honors, +and, so far as it was possible, her wish was carried out. +Her funeral took place on a bright autumn Sunday, and +the entire town turned out to do honor to this noble +woman.</p> +<p>The camps that have undertaken the erection of this +monument do honor to themselves in thus commemorating +the virtues of the heroine, Lucy Ann Cox.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +<a name='ONE_OF_THEM_LEES' id='ONE_OF_THEM_LEES'></a> +<h3>“ONE OF THEM LEES”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember, in Hospital Life.]</p> +<p>There was little conversation carried on, no necessity +for introductions, and no names ever asked or given. +This indifference to personality was a peculiarity strongly +exhibited in hospitals; for after nursing a sick or +wounded patient for months, he has often left without +any curiosity as regarded my name, my whereabouts, or +indeed anything connected with me. A case in point was +related by a friend. When the daughter of our general +had devoted much time and care to a sick man in one of +the hospitals, he seemed to feel so little gratitude for the +attention paid him that her companion to rouse him told +him that Miss Lee was his nurse. “Lee, Lee?” he said. +“There are some Lees down in Mississippi who keeps a +tavern there. Is she one of them Lees?”</p> +<p>Almost of the same style, although a little worse, was +the remark of one sick, poor fellow who had been +wounded in the head and who, though sensible enough +ordinarily, would feel the effect of the sun on his brain +when exposed to its influence. After advising him to +wear a wet paper doubled into the crown of his hat, more +from a desire to show some interest in him than from any +belief in its efficacy, I paused at the door long enough to +hear him ask the ward-master, “who that was?”</p> +<p>“Why, that is the matron of the hospital; she gives you +all the food you eat, and attends to things.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “I always did think this government +was a confounded sell, and now I am sure of it, when +they put such a little fool to manage such a big hospital as +this.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SOUTHERN_WOMEN_IN_THE_WAR_BETWEEN_THE_STATES' id='SOUTHERN_WOMEN_IN_THE_WAR_BETWEEN_THE_STATES'></a> +<h3>SOUTHERN WOMEN IN THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 32, pages 146-150. T. C. DeLeon, in +New Orleans <i>Picayune</i>.]</p> +<p>The great German who wrote:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Honor to woman! to her it is given</p> +<p>To garden the earth with roses of heaven!”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></div> +<p>precisely described the Confederate conditions—a century +in advance. True, constant, brave and enduring, the men +were; but the women set even the bravest and most steadfast +example. Nor was this confined to any one section +of the country. The “girl with the calico dress” of the +lowland farms; the “merry mountain maid” of the hill +country, and the belles of society in the cities, all vied with +each other in efforts to serve the men who had gone to the +front to fight for home and for them. And there was no +section of the South where this desire to do all they might +and more was oftener in evidence than another. In every +camp of the early days of the great struggle the incoming +troops bore trophies of home love, and as the war progressed +to need, then to dire want, the sacrifices of those +women at home became almost a poem, and one most +pathetic. Dress—misconceived as the feminine fetich—was +forgotten in the effort to clothe the boys at the front; +the family larder—ill-stocked at the best—was depleted to +nothingness, to send to distant camps those delicacies—so +equally freighted with tenderness and dyspepsia—which +too often never reached their destination. And +later, the carpets were taken from the floors, the curtains +from the windows—alike in humble homes and in dwellings +of the rich—to be cut in blankets for the uncomplaining +fellows, sleeping on freezing mud.</p> +<p>So wide, so universal, was the rule of self-sacrifice, that +no one reference to it can do justice to the zeal and devotion +of “Our Girls.” And the best proof of both was in +the hospitals, where soon began to congregate the maimed +and torn forms of those just sent forth to glory and victory. +This was the trial that tested the grain and purity +of our womanhood, and left it without alloy of fear or +selfishness. And some of the women who wrought in +home and hospital—even in trench and on the firing line—for +the “boys,” had never before handled aught rougher +than embroidery, or seen aught more fearsome than its +needle-prick. Yes, these untried women, young and old, +stood fire like veteran regulars, indeed, even more bravely +in moral view, for they missed the stimulus of the +charge—the tonic in the thought of striking back.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></div> +<p>During the entire war—and through the entire South—it +was the hospital that illustrated the highest and best +traits of the tried and stricken people. Doubtless, there +was good work done by the women of the North, and +much of it. Happily, for the sanity of the nation, American +womanhood springs from one common stock. It is +ever true to its own, as a whole—and, for aught I shall +deny—individually. But behind that Chinese wall of +wood and steel blockade, then nursing was not an episode. +It was grave duty, grim labor; heartbreaking endurance—all +self-imposed, and lasting for years, yet shirked +and relinquished only for cause.</p> +<p>But the dainty little hands that tied the red bandages, +or “held the artery” unflinching; the nimble feet that +wearied not by fever cot, or operating table, the active +months of war, grew nimbler still on bridle, or in the +dances when “the boys” came home. This was sometimes +on “flying furlough,” or when an aid, or courier, +with dispatches, was told to wait. Then “the one girl” +was mounted on anything that could carry her; and the +party would ride far to the front, in full view of the +enemy, and often in point-blank range. Or, it was when +frozen ruts made roads impassable for invader and defender; +and the furlough was perhaps easier, and longer. +Then came those now historic dances, the starvation parties, +where rank told nothing, and where the only refreshment +came in that intoxicant—a woman’s voice and eyes.</p> +<p>Then came the “Dies Irae,” when the Southern Rachel +sat in the ashes of her desolation and her homespun was +sackcloth. And even she rose supreme. By her desolate +hearth, with her larder empty, and only her aching heart +full, she still forced a smile for the home-coming “boy” +through the repressed tears for the one left, somewhere in +the fight.</p> +<p>In Richmond, Atlanta, Charleston and elsewhere was +she bitter and unforgiving? If she drew her faded +skirt—ever a black one, in that case—from the passing +blue, was it “treason,” or human nature? Thinkers who +wore the blue have time and oft declared the latter. Was +she “unreconstructed?” Her wounds were great and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +wondrous sore. She was true, then, to her faith. That +she is to-day to the reunited land let the fathers of Spanish +war heroes tell. She needs no monument; it is +reared in the hearts of true men, North and South.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_MOTHER_OF_THE_CONFEDERACY' id='A_MOTHER_OF_THE_CONFEDERACY'></a> +<h3>A MOTHER OF THE CONFEDERACY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 22, pages 63-64. From the Memphis, +Tenn., <i>Appeal-Avalanche</i>, June 30, 1894.]</p> +<p>Just upon the eve of preparations by ex-Confederates to +celebrate the Fourth of July in a becoming manner and +spirit, the sad news is announced of the death of the venerable +Mrs. Law, known all over the South as one of the +mothers of the Confederacy. She was also truly a +mother in Israel, in the highest Christian sense. Her +life had been closely connected with that of many leading +actors in the late war, in which she herself bore an essential +part. She passed away, June 28th, at Idlewild, +one of the suburbs of Memphis, nearly 89 years of age.</p> +<p>She was born on the River Yadkin, in Wilson County, +North Carolina, August 27, 1805, and at the time of her +death was doubtless the oldest person in Shelby County. +Her mother’s maiden name was Charity King. Her +father, Chapman Gordon, served in the Revolutionary +War, under Generals Marion and Sumter. She came of a +long-lived race of people. Her mother lived to be 93 +years of age, and her brother, Rev. Hezekiah Herndon +Gordon, who was the father of General John B. Gordon +(now Senator from Georgia), lived to the age of 92 +years.</p> +<p>Sallie Chapman Gordon was married to Dr. John S. +Law, near Eatonton, Georgia, on the 28th day of June, +1825. A few years later she became a member of the +Presbyterian Church, in Forsyth, Georgia, and her name +was afterward transferred to the rolls of the Second Presbyterian +Church in Memphis, of which church she remained +a member as long as she lived.</p> +<p>She became an active worker in hospitals, and when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +nothing more could be done in Memphis she went through +the lines and rendered substantial aid and comfort to the +soldiers in the field. Her services, if fully recorded, +would make a book. She was so recognized that upon +one occasion General Joseph E. Johnston had 30,000 of +his bronzed and tattered soldiers to pass in review in her +honor at Dalton. Such a distinction was, perhaps, never +accorded to any other woman in the South—not even Mrs. +Jefferson Davis or the wives of great generals. Yet, so +earnest and sincere in her work was she that she commanded +the respect and reverence of men wherever she +was known. After the war she strove to comfort the vanquished +and encourage the down-hearted, and continued +in her way to do much good work.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_GREAT_EASTERN' id='THE_GREAT_EASTERN'></a> +<h3>“THE GREAT EASTERN”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Christ in Camp, pages 94-98; J. William Jones, D. D.]</p> +<p>Here is another sketch of a soldier’s friend who labored +in some of our largest hospitals.</p> +<p>“She is a character,” writes a soldier. “A Napoleon of +her department, with the firmness and courage of Andrew, +she possesses all the energy and independence of +Stonewall Jackson. The officials hate her; the soldiers +adore her. The former name her ‘The Great Eastern,’ +and steer wide of her track, the latter go to her in all their +wants and troubles, and know her by the name of ‘Miss +Sally.’ She joined the army in one of the regiments +from Alabama, about the time of the battle of Manassas, +and never shrunk from the stern privations of the soldier’s +life from the moment of leaving camp to follow her +wounded and sick Alabamians to the hospitals of Richmond. +Her services are not confined, however, to the +sick and wounded from Alabama. Every sick soldier has +now a claim on her sympathy. Why, but yesterday, my +system having succumbed to the prevailing malaria of the +hospital, she came to my room, though a stranger, with +my ward nurse, and in the kindest manner offered me her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +pillow of feathers, with case as tidy as the driven snow. +The very sight of it was soothing to an aching brow, and +I blessed her from heart and lips as well. I must not +omit to tell why ‘Miss Sally’ is so disliked by many of +the officials. Like all women of energy, she has eyes +whose penetration few things escape, and a sagacity fearful +or admirable, as the case may be, to all interested. If +any abuse is pending, or in progress in the hospital, she is +quickly on the track, and if not abated, off ‘The Great +Eastern’ sails to headquarters. A few days ago one of +the officials of the division sent a soldier to inform her +that she must vacate her room instantly. ‘Who sent you +with that message to me?’ she asked him, turning suddenly +around. ‘Dr. ——,’ the soldier answered. +‘Pish!’ she replied, and swept on in ineffable contempt to +the bedside, perhaps, of some sick soldier.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CORDIAL_FOR_THE_BRAVE' id='CORDIAL_FOR_THE_BRAVE'></a> +<h3>CORDIAL FOR THE BRAVE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston’s Recollections, pages 70-71.]</p> +<p>The ingenuity with which these good ladies discovered +or manufactured onerous duties for themselves was surprising, +and having discovered or imagined some new +duty they straightway proceeded to do it at any cost.</p> +<p>An excellent Richmond dame was talking with a soldier +friend, when he carelessly remarked that there was +nothing which so greatly helped to keep up a contented +and cheerful spirit among the men as the receipt of letters +from their woman friends. Catching at the suggestion +as a revelation of duty, she asked, “And cheerfulness +makes better soldiers of the men, does it not?” Receiving +yes for an answer, the frail little woman, already +over-burdened with cares of an unusual sort, sat down +and made out a list of all the men with whom she was +acquainted even in the smallest possible way, and from +that day until the end of the war she wrote one letter a +week to each, a task which, as her acquaintance was +large, taxed her time and strength very severely. Not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +content with this, she wrote on the subject in the newspapers, +earnestly urging a like course upon her sisters, +many of whom adopted the suggestion at once, much to +the delight of the soldiers, who little dreamed that the +kindly, cheerful, friendly letters which every mail +brought into camp were a part of woman’s self-appointed +work for the success of the common cause. From the +beginning to the end of the war it was the same.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='HOSPITAL_WORK_AND_WOMENS_DELICACY' id='HOSPITAL_WORK_AND_WOMENS_DELICACY'></a> +<h3>HOSPITAL WORK AND WOMEN’S DELICACY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember, in Hospital Life.]</p> +<p>There is one subject connected with hospitals on which +a few words should be said—the distasteful one that a +woman must lose a certain amount of delicacy and reticence +in filling any office in them. How can this be? +There is no unpleasant exposure under proper arrangements, +and if even there be, the circumstances which surround +a wounded man, far from friends and home, suffering +in a holy cause and dependent upon a woman for +help, care and sympathy, hallow and clear the atmosphere +in which she labors. That woman must indeed be hard +and gross who lets one material thought lessen her efficiency. +In the midst of suffering and death, hoping with +those almost beyond hope in this world; praying by the +bedside of the lonely and heart-stricken; closing the +eyes of boys hardly old enough to realize man’s sorrow, +much less suffer by man’s fierce hate, a woman must soar +beyond the conventional modesty considered correct +under different circumstances.</p> +<p>If the ordeal does not chasten and purify her nature, if +the contemplation of suffering and endurance does not +make her wiser and better, and if the daily fire through +which she passes does not draw from her nature the sweet +fragrance of benevolence, charity, and love,—then, indeed, +a hospital has been no fit place for her.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +<a name='A_WAYSIDE_HOME_AT_MILLEN' id='A_WAYSIDE_HOME_AT_MILLEN'></a> +<h3>A WAYSIDE HOME AT MILLEN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Electra Tyler Deloache, in Augusta <i>Chronicle</i>, October 29, 1905.]</p> +<p>Only a few of the present inhabitants of Millen know +that it was once famous as the location of a Confederate +Wayside Home, where, during the civil war, the soldiers +were fed and cared for. The home was built by public +subscription and proved a veritable boon to the soldiers, +as many veterans now living can testify.</p> +<p>The location of the town has been changed slightly +since the 60’s, for in those days the car sheds were several +hundred yards farther up the Macon track, and were +situated where the railroad crossing is now. The hotel +owned and run by Mr. Gray was first opposite the depot, +and the location is still marked by mock-orange trees and +shrubbery.</p> +<p>The Wayside Home was on the west side of the railroad +crossing and was opposite the house built in the railroad +Y by Major Wilkins and familiarly known here as +the Berrien House. The old well still marks the spot. +The home was weather-boarded with rough planks running +straight up and down. It had four large rooms to +the front, conveniently furnished with cots, etc., for the +accommodation of any soldiers who were sick or +wounded and unable to continue their journey. A nurse +was always on hand to attend to the wants of the sick. +Back of these rooms was a large dining hall and kitchen, +where the weary and hungry boys in gray could minister +to the wants of the inner man. And right royally they +performed this pleasant duty, for the table was always +bountifully supplied with good things, donated by the +patriotic women of Burke county, who gladly emptied +hearts and home upon the altar of country. This work +was entirely under the auspices of the women of Burke. +Mrs. Judge Jones, of Waynesboro, was the first president +of the home. She was succeeded by Mrs. Ransom +Lewis, who was second and last. She was quite an active +factor in the work, and it was largely due to her +efforts that the home attained the prominence that it did +among similar institutions.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span></div> +<p>Miss Annie Bailey, daughter of Captain Bailey, of Savannah, +was matron of the home. She was assisted in +the work by committees of three ladies, who, each in turn, +spent several days at the home. The regular servants +were kept and extra help called in when needed.</p> +<p>This home was to the weary and hungry Confederate +soldier as an oasis in the desert, for here he found rest +and plenty beneath its shelter. And the social feature +was not its least attraction, when a bevy of blooming +girls from our bonny Southland would visit the home, +and midst feast and jest spur the boys on to renewed +vigor in the cause of the South. They felt amidst such +inspirations it would be glorious to die but more glorious +to live for such a land of charming women. One of our +matrons with her sweet old face softened into a dreamy +smile by happy reminiscences of those days of toil, care, +and sorrow, where happy thoughts and pleasantries of +the past crowded in and made little rifts of sunshine +through the war clouds, remarked: “But with all the +gloom and suffering, we girls used to have such fun with +the soldiers at the home, and at such times we could even +forget that our loved South was in the throes of the most +terrible war in the history of any country!”</p> +<p>The home was operated for two years or more and +often whole regiments of soldiers came to it, and all that +could be accommodated were taken in and cared for.</p> +<p>It was destroyed by Sherman’s army on their march to +the sea. The car shed, depot, hotel and home all disappeared +before the torch of the destroyer and only the +memory, the well, and the trees remain to mark the historic +spot where the heroic efforts of our Burke county +women sustained the Wayside Home through long years +of the struggle.</p> +<p>Mrs. Amos Whitehead and others who have “crossed +the river” were prominently connected with this work; +in fact, every one lent a helping hand, for it was truly a +labor of love, and was our Southern women’s tribute to +patriotism and heroism.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +<a name='A_NOBLE_GIRL' id='A_NOBLE_GIRL'></a> +<h3>A NOBLE GIRL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From the <i>Floridian</i>, 1864.]</p> +<p>Upon the arrival of the troops at Madison sent to reinforce +our army in East Florida, the ladies attended at +the depot with provisions and refreshments for the defenders +of their home and country. Among the brave +war-worn soldiers who were rushing to the defence of +our State there was, in one of the Georgia regiments, a +soldier boy, whose bare feet were bleeding from the exposure +and fatigue of the march. One of the young +ladies present, moved by the impulse of her sex, took the +shoes from her own feet, made the suffering hero put +them on, and walked home herself barefooted. Wherever +Southern soldiers have suffered and bled for their country’s +freedom, let this incident be told for a memorial of +Lou Taylor, of Madison county.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_GOOD_SAMARITAN' id='THE_GOOD_SAMARITAN'></a> +<h3>THE GOOD SAMARITAN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Christ in Camp, pages 98-99; J. William Jones, D. D.]</p> +<p>At Richmond, Va., there was a little model hospital +known as the “Samaritan,” presided over by a lady who +gave it her undivided attention, and greatly endeared +herself to the soldiers who were fortunate enough to be +sent there. “Through my son, a young soldier of eighteen,” +writes a father, “I have become acquainted with +this lady superintendent, whose memory will live in many +hearts when our present struggle shall have ended. But +for her motherly care and skilful attention my son and +many others must have died. One case of her attention +deserves special notice. A young man, who had been +previously with her, was taken sick in camp near Richmond. +The surgeon being absent, he lay for two weeks +in his tent without medical aid. She sent several requests +to his captain to send him to her, but he would not +in the absence of the surgeon. She then hired a wagon +and went for him herself; the captain allowed her to take +him away, and he was soon convalescent. She says she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +feels that not their bodies only but their souls are committed +to her charge. Thus, as soon as they are comfortably +fixed in a good, clean bed, she inquires of every one if he +has chosen the good part; and through her instruction +and prayers several have been converted. Her house can +easily accommodate twenty, all in one room, which is +made comfortable in winter with carpet and stove, and +adorned with wreaths of evergreen and paper flowers, +and in summer well ventilated, and the windows and yard +filled with green-house plants. A library of religious +books is in the room, and pictures are hung on the walls.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='FEMALE_RELATIVES_VISIT_THE_HOSPITALS' id='FEMALE_RELATIVES_VISIT_THE_HOSPITALS'></a> +<h3>FEMALE RELATIVES VISIT THE HOSPITALS.</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember, in Hospital Life.]</p> +<p>There was no means of keeping the relations of patients +from coming to them. There had been rules made +to meet their invasion, but it was impossible to carry them +out, as in the instance of a wife wanting to remain with +her husband; and, besides, even the better class of people +looked upon the comfort and care of a hospital as a farce. +They resented the detention there of men who in many +instances could lie in bed and point to their homes within +sight, and argued that they would have better attention +and food if allowed to go to their families. That <i>maladie +du pays</i> called commonly nostalgia, the homesickness +which rings the heart and impoverishes the blood, killed +many a brave soldier, and the matron who day by day +had to stand helpless and powerless by the bed of the sufferer, +knowing that a week’s furlough would make his +heart sing with joy and save his wife from widowhood, +learned the most bitter lesson of endurance that could be +taught.</p> +<p>My hospital was now entirely composed of Virginians +and Marylanders, and the nearness to the homes of the +former entailed upon me an increase of care in the shape +of wives, sisters, cousins, aunts, and whole families, including +the historic baby at the breast. They came in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +troops, and, hard as it was to know how to dispose of +them, it was harder to send them away. Sometimes they +brought their provisions with them, but not often, and +even when they did there was no place for them to cook +their food. It must be remembered that everything was +reduced to the lowest minimum, even fuel. They could +not remain all day in the wards with men around them, +and if even they were so willing, the restraint on +wounded, restless patients who wanted to throw their +limbs about with freedom during the hot days was unbearable.</p> +<p>Generally their only idea of kindness was giving the +sick men what food they would take in any quantity and +of every quality, and in the furtherance of their views +they were pugnacious in the extreme. Whenever rules +circumscribed their plans they abused the government, +then the hospitals, and then myself. Many ludicrous incidents +happened daily, and I have often laughed heartily +at seeing the harassed ward-master heading away a pertinacious +female who, failing to get past him at the door, +would try the three others perseveringly. They seemed +to think it a pious and patriotic duty not to be afraid or +ashamed under any circumstances. One sultry day I +found a whole family, accompanied by two young lady +friends, seated around a sick man’s bed. As I passed +through six hours later, they held the same position.</p> +<p>“Had not you all better go home?” I said good-naturedly.</p> +<p>“We came to see my cousin,” answered one very +crossly. “He is wounded.”</p> +<p>“But you have been with him all morning and that is a +restraint upon the other men. Come again to-morrow.”</p> +<p>A consultation was held, but when it ceased no movement +was made, the older ones only lighting their pipes +and smoking in silence.</p> +<p>“Will you come back to-morrow and go now?”</p> +<p>“No! You come into the wards when you please, and +so will we.”</p> +<p>“But it is my duty to do so. Besides, I always ask +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +permission to enter, and never stay longer than fifteen +minutes at a time.”</p> +<p>Another unbroken silence, which was a trial to any +patience left, and finding no movement made, I handed +some clothing to the patient near.</p> +<p>“Here is a clean shirt and drawers for you, Mr. Wilson. +Put them on as soon as I get out of the ward.”</p> +<p>I had hardly reached my kitchen, when the whole procession, +pipes and all, passed me solemnly and angrily; +but, for many days, and even weeks, there was no ridding +the place of this large family connection. Their sins +were manifold. They overfed their relative who was +recovering from an attack of typhoid fever, and even +defiantly seized the food for the purpose from under my +very nose. They marched on me <i>en-masse</i> at 10 o’clock +at night, with a requisition from the boldest for sleeping +quarters. The steward was summoned, and said “he +didn’t keep a hotel,” so in a weak moment of pity for their +desolate state, I imprudently housed them in my laundry. +They entrenched themselves there for six days, making +predatory incursions into my kitchen during my temporary +absences, ignoring Miss G. completely. The object +of their solicitude recovered and was sent to the field, and +finding my writs of ejectment were treated with contemptuous +silence, I sought an explanation. The same spokeswoman +alluded to above met me half-way. She said a +battle was imminent she had heard, and she had determined +to remain, as her husband might be wounded. In +the ensuing press of business she was forgotten, and +strangely enough, her husband was brought in with a +bullet in his neck the following week. The back is surely +fitted to the burden, so I contented myself with retaking +my laundry and letting her shift for herself, while a whole +month slipped away. One morning my arrival was +greeted with a general burst of merriment from everybody +I met, white and black. Experience had made me +sage, and my first question was a true shot, right in the +center.</p> +<p>“Where is Mrs. Daniels?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></div> +<p>She had always been spokeswoman.</p> +<p>“In ward G. She has sent for you two or three times.”</p> +<p>“What is the matter now?”</p> +<p>“You must go and see.”</p> +<p>There was something going on either amusing or +amiss. I entered ward G, and walked up to Daniel’s bed. +One might have heard a pin drop.</p> +<p>I had supposed, up to this time, that I had been called +upon to bear and suffer every annoyance that humanity +and the state of the country could inflict, but here was +something most unexpectedly in addition; for lying composedly +on her husband’s cot (for he had relinquished it +for the occasion) lay Mrs. Daniels and her baby (just +two hours old).</p> +<p>The conversation that ensued is not worth repeating, +being more of the nature of a soliloquy. The poor wretch +had ventured into a bleak and comfortless portion of the +world, and its inhuman mother had not provided a rag +to cover it. No one could scold her at such a time, however +ardently they might desire to do so. But what was +to be done? I went in search of my chief surgeon, and +our conversation although didactic was hardly satisfactory +on the subject.</p> +<p>“Doctor, Mrs. Daniels has a baby. She is in ward G. +What shall I do with her?”</p> +<p>“A baby! Ah, indeed! You must get it some clothes.”</p> +<p>“What must I do with her?”</p> +<p>“Move her to an empty ward and give her some tea +and toast.”</p> +<p>This was offered, but Mrs. Daniels said she would +wait until dinner time and have some bacon and greens.</p> +<p>The baby was a sore annoyance. The ladies of Richmond +made up a wardrobe, each contributing some +article, and at the end of the month, Mrs. D., the child, +and a basket of clothing and provisions were sent to the +cars with a return ticket to her home in western Virginia.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></div> +<h4>Sadie Curry And “Clara Fisher”</h4> +<p class='center'>[I. L. U.]</p> +<p>In later years of the war a great many of the wounded +soldiers were brought from east and west to Augusta, +Ga. Immediately the people from the country on both +sides of the Savannah River came in and took hundreds +of the poor fellows to their homes and nursed them with +every possible kindness. Ten miles up the river, on the +Carolina side, was the happy little village of Curryton, +named for Mr. Joel Curry and his father, the venerable +Lewis Curry. Here, many a poor fellow from distant +States was taken in most cordially and every home was +a temporary hospital. Among those nursed at Mr. +Curry’s, whose house was always a home for the preacher, +the poor man, and the soldier, was Major Crowder, who +suffered long from a painful and fatal wound, and a +stripling boy soldier from Kentucky, Elijah Ballard, +whose hip wound made him a cripple for life.</p> +<p>Miss Sadie Curry nursed both, night and day, as she +did others, when necessary, like a sister. Her zeal never +flagged, and her strength never gave way. After young +Ballard, who was totally without education, became +strong enough, she taught him to read and write, and +when the war ended he went home prepared to be a book-keeper. +Others received like kindness.</p> +<p>But this noble girl had from the beginning of the war +made it her daily business to look after the families of the +poorer soldiers in the neighborhood. She mounted her +horse daily and made her round of angel visits. If she +found anybody sick she reported to the kind and patriotic +Dr. Hugh Shaw. If any of the families lacked meal or +other provisions, it was reported to her father, who would +send meal from his mill or bacon from his smoke-house.</p> +<p>In appreciation of her heroic work, her father and her +gallant brother-in-law, Major Robert Meriwether, who +was in the Virginia army, now living in Brazil, bought +a beautiful Tennessee riding horse and gave it to her. +She named it “Clara Fisher” and many poor hearts in +old Edgefield were made sad and many tears shed in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +fall of 1864, when Sadie Curry and “Clara Fisher” moved +to southwest Georgia.</p> +<p>Bless God, there were many Sadie Currys all over the +South, wherever there was a call and opportunity. Miss +Sadie married Dr. H. D. Hudson and later in life Rev. +Dr. Rogers, of Augusta, where she died a few years ago.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MANIA_FOR_MARRIAGE' id='MANIA_FOR_MARRIAGE'></a> +<h3>MANIA FOR MARRIAGE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Diary of a Refugee, pages 329-330.]</p> +<p>There seems to be a perfect mania on the subject of +matrimony. Some of the churches may be seen open and +lighted almost every night for bridals, and wherever I +turn, I hear of marriages in prospect.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“In peace Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;</p> +<p>In war he mounts the warrior’s steed,”</p> +</div></div> +<p>sings the “Last Minstrel” of the Scottish days of +romance; and I do not think that our modern warriors +are a whit behind them, either in love or war. My only +wonder is, that they find time for love-making amid the +storms of warfare. Just at this time, however, I suppose +our valiant knights and ladies fair are taking advantage +of the short respite, caused by alternate snows and sunshine +of our variable climate having made the roads impassable +to Grant’s artillery and baggage-wagons.</p> +<p>A soldier in our hospital called to me as I passed his +bed the other day, “I say, Mrs. ——, when do you +think my wound will be well enough for me to go to the +country?”</p> +<p>“Before very long, I hope.”</p> +<p>“But what does the doctor say, for I am mighty +anxious to go?”</p> +<p>I looked at his disabled limb and talked to him hopefully +of his being able to enjoy country air in a short +time.</p> +<p>“Well, try to get me up, for, you see, it ain’t the +country air I’m after, but I wants to get married, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +lady don’t know that I am wounded, and maybe she’ll +think I don’t want to come.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said I, “but you must show her your scars, and +if she is a girl worth having she will love you all the +better for having bled for your country, and you must +tell her that—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“‘It is always the heart that is bravest in war</p> +<p>That is fondest and truest in love.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>He looked perfectly delighted with the idea; and as I +passed him again he called out, “Lady, please stop a minute +and tell me the verse over again, for, you see, when +I do get there, if she is affronted, I wants to give her the +prettiest excuse I can, and I think that verse is beautiful.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GOVERNMENT_CLERKSHIPS' id='GOVERNMENT_CLERKSHIPS'></a> +<h3>GOVERNMENT CLERKSHIPS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond During the War, pages 174-175.]</p> +<p>From the Treasury Department, the employment of +female clerks extended to various offices in the War Department, +the Post Office Department, and indeed every +branch of business connected with the government. They +were all found efficient and useful. By this means many +young men could be sent into the ranks, and by testimony +of the chiefs of bureaus, the work left for the women was +better done; for they were more conscientious in their +duties than the more self-satisfied, but not better qualified, +male attaches of the government offices. The experiment +of placing women in government clerkships proved eminently +successful, and grew to be extremely popular under +the Confederate government.</p> +<p>Many a young girl remembers with gratitude the +kindly encouragement of our Adjutant-General Cooper, +our chief of ordnance, Colonel Gorgas, or the first auditor +of the Confederate treasury, Judge Bolling Baker, or +Postmaster-General Reagan, and various other officials, +of whom their necessities drove them to seek employment. +The most high-born ladies of the land filled these places +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +as well as the humble poor; but none could obtain employment +under the government who could not furnish testimonials +of intelligence and superior moral worth.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SCHOOLS_IN_WAR_TIMES' id='SCHOOLS_IN_WAR_TIMES'></a> +<h3>SCHOOLS IN WAR TIMES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond During the War, pages 188-189.]</p> +<p>As the war went on a marked change was made in the +educational interests of the South. For a certain number +of pupils, the teachers of schools were exempt from +military duty. To their credit be it recorded that few, +comparatively, availed themselves of this exception, and +the care of instructing the youth devolved, with other +added responsibilities, upon the women of the country. +Only the boys under conscript age were found in the +schools; all older were made necessary in the field or in +some department of government service, unless physical +inability prevented them from falling under the requirements +of the law. Many of our colleges for males +suspended operation, and at the most important period +in the course of their education our youths were instructed +in the sterner lessons of military service.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='HUMANITY_IN_THE_HOSPITALS' id='HUMANITY_IN_THE_HOSPITALS'></a> +<h3>HUMANITY IN THE HOSPITALS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Richmond <i>Enquirer</i>, June 6, 1862.]</p> +<p>In our visits to the various hospitals, we cannot but +remark, admire, and commend the kindly harmony and +sweet-tempered familiarity which mark the intercourse +of the ladies who have devoted themselves to the care of +the sick and the wounded. There is a unity in the actions +and solicitude of all which only a unity of motive could +induce. The amiable and unpretending sister of mercy, +the earnest bright-eyed Jewish girl and the womanly, +gentle, and energetic Protestant, mingle their labors with +a freedom and geniality which would teach the most prejudiced +zealot a lesson that would never be forgotten. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +The necessity of charity, once demonstrated, teaches us +that we are one kindred, after all, and whatever differences +may exist in the peculiar tenets of the many, all +hearts are alike open to the same impulses, and the couch +of suffering at once commands their sympathy and reminds +them of an identity of hope and a common fate.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_DAVIS_AND_THE_FEDERAL_PRISONER' id='MRS_DAVIS_AND_THE_FEDERAL_PRISONER'></a> +<h3>MRS. DAVIS AND THE FEDERAL PRISONER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Augusta, Ga., <i>Constitutionalist</i>.]</p> +<p>A clerical friend of ours in passing through one of +our streets a few days since, to perform a ministerial +duty—attending to the sick and wounded in the hospitals—encountered +a stranger, who accosted him thus: +“My friend, can you tell me if Mrs. Jeff Davis is in the +city of Augusta?”</p> +<p>“No, sir,” replied our friend. “She is not.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir,” replied the stranger, “you may be surprised +at my asking such a question, and more particularly +so when I inform you that I am a discharged +United States soldier. But (and here he evinced great +feeling), sir, that lady has performed acts of kindness +to me which I can never forget. When serving in the +valley of Virginia, battling for the Union, I received a +severe and dangerous wound. At the same time I was +taken prisoner and conveyed to Richmond, where I received +such kindness and attention from Mrs. Davis that +I can never forget her; and, now that I am discharged +from the army and at work in this city, and understanding +that the lady was here, I wish to call upon her, renew +my expressions of gratitude to her, and offer to +share with her, should she unfortunately need it, the last +cent I have in the world.”</p> +<p>Can it be truly charged on a nation that it was wantonly, +criminally cruel, when a generous foe bears testimony +to the mercy, kindness, and lowly service of the highest +lady of the land?</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +<a name='SOCKS_THAT_NEVER_WORE_OUT' id='SOCKS_THAT_NEVER_WORE_OUT'></a> +<h3>SOCKS THAT NEVER WORE OUT</h3> +</div> +<p>General Gordon tells of a simple-hearted country Confederate +woman who gave a striking idea of the straits +to which our people were reduced later in the war. She +explained that her son’s only pair of socks did not wear +out, because, said she: “When the feet of the socks get +full of holes, I just knit new feet to the tops, and when +the tops wear out I just knit new tops to the feet.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='BURIAL_OF_AUNT_MATILDA' id='BURIAL_OF_AUNT_MATILDA'></a> +<h3>BURIAL OF AUNT MATILDA</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. R. A. Pryor’s Reminiscences.]</p> +<p>This precise type of a Virginia plantation will never +appear again, I imagine. I wish I could describe a plantation +wedding as I saw it that summer. But a funeral +of one of the old servants was peculiarly interesting to +me. “Aunt Matilda” had been much loved and, when +she found herself dying, she had requested that the mistress +and little children should attend her funeral.</p> +<p>“I ain’ been much to church,” she urged. “I couldn’t +leave my babies. I ain’ had dat shoutin’ an’ hollerin’ +religion, but I gwine to heaven jes’ de same”—a fact of +which nobody who knew Aunt Matilda could have the +smallest doubt.</p> +<p>We had a long, warm walk behind hundreds of negroes, +following the rude coffin in slow procession through the +woods, singing antiphonally as they went, one of those +strange, weird hymns not to be caught by any Anglo-Saxon +voice.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful and touching scene, and at the grave +I longed for an artist (we had no kodaks then) to perpetuate +the picture. The level rays of the sun were filtered +through the green leaves of the forest, and fell +gently on the dusky pathetic faces, and on the simple +coffin surrounded by orphan children and relatives, very +dignified and quiet in their grief.</p> +<p>The spiritual patriarch of the plantation presided. Old +Uncle Abel said:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></div> +<p>“I ain’ gwine keep you all long. ’Tain’ no use. We +can’t do nothin’ for Sis’ Tildy. All is done fer her, an’ +she done preach her own fune’al sermon. Her name was +on dis church book here, but dat warn’ nothin’; no doubt +’twas on de Lamb book, too.</p> +<p>“Now, whiles dey fillin’ up her grave, I’d like you all +to sing a hymn Sis’ Tildy uster love, but you all know I +bline in one eye, an’ I dunno as any o’ you all ken do it”—and +the first thing I knew, the old man had passed his +well-worn book to me, and there I stood at the foot of +the grave, “lining out”:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“‘Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep,</p> +<p>From which none ever wake to weep.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Words of immortal comfort to the great throng of negro +mourners who caught it up line after line, on an air of +their own, full of tears and tenderness,—a strange, weird +tune no white person’s voice could ever follow.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='ILLEGANT_PAIR_OF_HANDS' id='ILLEGANT_PAIR_OF_HANDS'></a> +<h3>“ILLEGANT PAIR OF HANDS”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember.]</p> +<p>A large number of the surgeons were absent, and the +few left would not be able to attend to all the wounds at +that late hour of the night. I proposed in reply that the +convalescent men should be placed on the floor on blankets +or bed-sacks filled with straw, and the wounded take +their place, and, purposely construing his silence into +consent, gave the necessary orders, eagerly offering my +services to dress simple wounds, and extolling the +strength of my nerves. He let me have my way (may +his ways be of pleasantness and his paths of peace), and +so, giving Miss G. orders to make an unlimited supply +of coffee, tea, and stimulants, armed with lint, bandages, +castile soap, and a basin of warm water, I made my first +essay in the surgical line. I had been spectator often +enough to be skilful. The first object that needed my +care was an Irishman. He was seated upon a bed with +his hands crossed, wounded in both arms by the same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +bullet. The blood was soon washed away, wet lint applied, +and no bones being broken, the bandages easily arranged.</p> +<p>“I hope that I have not hurt you much,” I said with +some trepidation. “These are the first wounds that I +have ever dressed.”</p> +<p>“Sure, they be the most illegant pair of hands that ever +touched me, and the lightest,” he gallantly answered. +“And I am all right now.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_GUNBOAT_RICHMOND' id='THE_GUNBOAT_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>THE GUN-BOAT “RICHMOND”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Scharf’s Confederate Navy.]</p> +<p>The “Ladies’ Defence Association” was then formed +at Richmond, with Mrs. Maria G. Clopton, president; +Mrs. General Henningsen, vice-president; Mrs. R. H. +Maury, treasurer, and Mrs. John Adams Smith, secretary. +At its meeting, on April 9th, an address, prepared +by Captain J. S. Maury, was read by Rev. Dr. Doggett. +In this address it was eloquently stated that the first efforts +of the association would be “directed to the building +and putting afloat in the waters of the James River +a steam man-of-war, clad in shot-proof armor; her +panoply to be after the manner of that gallant ship, the +noble <i>Virginia</i>.” Committees were appointed to solicit +subscriptions, and so much encouragement was received +that the managers of the association called upon President +Davis for sanction of its purpose, which he gladly +gave, and it was announced that the keel of the vessel +would be laid in a few days; that Commander Farrand +would be in charge of the work, and that he would be +assisted by Ship-builder Graves.</p> +<p>Words can but inadequately represent the energy with +which the women of Virginia undertook this work, or +the sacrifices which they made to complete it. That their +jewels and their household plate, heirlooms, in many instances, +that had been handed down from generation to +generation and were the embodiments of ancestral rank +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +and tradition, were freely given up, is known. “Virginia,” +said they in their appeal, “when she sent her sons +into this war, gave up her jewels to it. Let not her +daughters hold back. Mothers, wives, sisters! what are +your ornaments of silver and gold in decoration, when by +dedicating them to a cause like this, you may in times +like these strengthen the hand or nerve the arm, or give +comfort to the heart that beats and strikes in your defence! +Send them to us.”</p> +<p>The organization, moreover, did not confine itself to +urging upon the women of the State that this was particularly +their contribution to the maintenance of the +Confederacy. “Iron railings,” the address continued, +“old and new, scrap-iron about the house, broken ploughshares +about the farm, and iron in any shape, though +given in quantities ever so small, will be thankfully received +if delivered at the Tredegar Works, where it may +be put into the furnace, reduced, and wrought into shape +or turned into shot and shell.” A friendly invasion of +the tobacco factories was made by a committee of ladies, +consisting of Mrs. Brooke Gwathney, Mrs. B. Smith, and +Mrs. George T. Brooker, and the owners cheerfully broke +up much of their machinery that was available for the +specified purpose. Mrs. R. H. Maury, treasurer of the +association, took charge of the contributions in money, +plate, and jewelry; the materials and tools were sent to +Commodore Farrand, and an agent, S. D. Hicks, was +appointed to receive the contributions of grain, country +produce, etc., that were sent in by Virginia farmers to be +converted into cash. By the end of April the construction +had reached an advanced stage; President Davis and +Secretary Mallory had congratulated the Ladies’ Association +upon the assured success of its self-allotted task, +and by the sale of articles donated to a public bazaar or +fair, almost a sufficient sum to complete the ship was secured.</p> +<p>The <i>Richmond</i> was completed in July, 1862, and although +detailed descriptions are lacking all mention made +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +of her is unanimous that she was an excellent ship of her +type. Captain Parker says that “she was a fine vessel, +built on the plan of the <i>Virginia</i>.”</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Note.—Mrs. General Henningsen received from New Orleans +boxes containing articles to be sold for contribution to building the +Richmond. Among the articles were two beautiful vases, which +were bought by a gentleman of Richmond and are now in the possession +of his family. The Richmond was destroyed on the evacuation +of the Capital City.—J. L. U.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CAPTAIN_SALLY_TOMPKINS' id='CAPTAIN_SALLY_TOMPKINS'></a> +<h3>CAPTAIN SALLY TOMPKINS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Southern women have cared little for public honors +nor have they courted masculine titles. But a recent number +of the Richmond <i>Times-Dispatch</i> recalls the pleasant +bit of history that in the case of Miss Sallie Tompkins a +remarkable honor was deservedly conferred upon a +worthy Virginia girl by the Confederate authorities.</p> +<p>While yet a very young woman Miss Tompkins used +her ample means to establish in Richmond a private hospital +for Confederate soldiers. She not only provided +for its support at her own expense, but devoted her time +to the work of nursing the patients.</p> +<p>The wounded were brought into the city by the hundreds +and there was hardly a private house without its +quota of sick and wounded. Quite a number of private +hospitals were established but, unlike Miss Tompkins’s +splendid institution, charges were made by some of them +for services rendered. In course of time abuses grew +with the system, and General Lee ordered that they all be +closed—all except the hospital of Miss Tompkins. This +was recognized as too helpful to the Confederate cause +to be abolished.</p> +<p>In order to preserve it it had to be brought under government +control, and to do this General Lee ordered a +commission as captain in the Confederate army to be issued +to Miss Sallie Tompkins. Though a government +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +hospital from that time on, Captain Tompkins conducted +it as before, paying its expenses out of her private purse.</p> +<p>The veterans are proud of her record, and a movement +is now on foot among them to place Captain Tompkins in +a position of independence as long as she lives.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_ANGEL_OF_THE_HOSPITAL' id='THE_ANGEL_OF_THE_HOSPITAL'></a> +<h3>THE ANGEL OF THE HOSPITAL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From the Gray Jacket, pages 143-146.]</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>’Twas nightfall in the hospital. The day,</p> +<p>As though its eyes were dimmed with bloody rain</p> +<p>From the red clouds of war, had quenched its light,</p> +<p>And in its stead some pale, sepulchral lamps</p> +<p>Shed their dim lustre in the halls of pain,</p> +<p>And flitted mystic shadows o’er the walls.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>No more the cry of “Charge! On, soldiers, on!”</p> +<p>Stirred the thick billows of the sulphurous air;</p> +<p>But the deep moan of human agony,</p> +<p>From the pale lips quivering as they strove in vain</p> +<p>To smother mortal pain, appalled the ear,</p> +<p>And made the life-blood curdle in the heart.</p> +<p>Nor flag, nor bayonet, nor plume, nor lance,</p> +<p>Nor burnished gun, nor clarion call, nor drum,</p> +<p>Displayed the pomp of battle; but instead</p> +<p>The tourniquet, the scalpel, and the draught,</p> +<p>The bandage, and the splint were strewn around—</p> +<p>Dumb symbols, telling more than tongues could speak</p> +<p>The awful shadows of the fiend of war.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Look! Look! What gentle form with cautious step</p> +<p>Passes from couch to couch as silently</p> +<p>As yon faint shadows flickering on the walls,</p> +<p>And, bending o’er the gasping sufferer’s head,</p> +<p>Cools his flushed forehead with the icy bath,</p> +<p>From her own tender hand, or pours the cup</p> +<p>Whose cordial powers can quench the inward flame</p> +<p>That burns his heart to ashes, or with voice</p> +<p>As tender as a mother’s to her babe,</p> +<p>Pours pious consolation in his ear.</p> +<p>She came to one long used in war’s rude scenes—</p> +<p>A soldier from his youth, grown gray in arms,</p> +<p>Now pierced with mortal wounds. Untutored, rough,</p> +<p>Though brave and true, uncared for by the world.</p> +<p>His life had passed without a friendly word,</p> +<p>Which timely spoken to his willing ear,</p> +<p>Had wakened God-like hopes, and filled his heart</p> +<p>With the unfading bloom of sacred truth.</p> +<p>Beside his couch she stood, and read the page</p> +<p>Of heavenly wisdom and the law of love,</p> +<p>And bade him follow the triumphant chief</p> +<p>Who bears the unconquered banner of the cross.</p> +<p>The veteran heard with tears and grateful smile,</p> +<p>Like a long-frozen fount whose ice is touched</p> +<p>By the restless sun, and melts away,</p> +<p>And, fixing his last gaze on her and heaven,</p> +<p>Went to the Judge in penitential prayer.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></p> +<p>She passed to one, in manhood’s blooming prime,</p> +<p>Lately the glory of the martial field,</p> +<p>But now, sore-scathed by the fierce shock of arms,</p> +<p>Like a tall pine shattered by the lightning’s stroke,</p> +<p>Prostrate he lay, and felt the pangs of death,</p> +<p>And saw its thickening damps obscure the light</p> +<p>Which make our world so beautiful. Yet those</p> +<p>He heeded not. His anxious thoughts had flown</p> +<p>O’er rivers and illimitable woods,</p> +<p>To his fair cottage in the Western wilds,</p> +<p>Where his young bride and prattling little ones—</p> +<p>Poor hapless little ones, chafed by the wolf of war—</p> +<p>Watched for the coming of the absent one</p> +<p>In utter desolation’s bitterness.</p> +<p>O, agonizing thought! which smote his heart</p> +<p>With sharper anguish than the sabre’s point.</p> +<p>The angel came with sympathetic voice,</p> +<p>And whispered in his ear: “Our God will be</p> +<p>A husband to the widow, and embrace</p> +<p>The orphan tenderly within his arms;</p> +<p>For human sorrow never cries in vain</p> +<p>To His compassionate ear.” The dying man</p> +<p>Drank in her words with rapture; cheering hope</p> +<p>Shone like a rainbow in his tearful eyes,</p> +<p>And arched his cloud of sorrow, while he gave</p> +<p>The dearest earthly treasures of his heart,</p> +<p>In resignation to the care of God.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>A fair man-boy of fifteen summers tossed</p> +<p>His wasted limbs upon a cheerless couch.</p> +<p>Ah! how unlike the downy bed prepared</p> +<p>By his fond mother’s love, whose tireless hands</p> +<p>No comforts for her only offspring spared</p> +<p>From earliest childhood, when the sweet babe slept,</p> +<p>Soft—nestling in her bosom all the night,</p> +<p>Like a half-blown lily sleeping on the heart</p> +<p>Of swelling summer wave, till that sad day</p> +<p>He left the untold treasure of her love</p> +<p>To seek the rude companionship of war.</p> +<p>The fiery fever struck his swelling brain</p> +<p>With raving madness, and the big veins throbbed</p> +<p>A death-knell on his temples, and his breath</p> +<p>Was hot and quick, as is the panting deer’s,</p> +<p>Stretched by the Indian’s arrow on the plain.</p> +<p>“Mother! Oh, mother!” oft his faltering tongue</p> +<p>Shrieked to the cold, bare wall, which echoed back</p> +<p>His wailing in the mocking of despair.</p> +<p>Oh! angel nurse, what sorrow wrung thy heart</p> +<p>For the young sufferer’s grief! She knelt beside</p> +<p>The dying lad, and smoothed his tangled locks</p> +<p>Back from his aching brow, and wept and prayed</p> +<p>With all a woman’s tenderness and love,</p> +<p>That the good Shepherd would receive this lamb,</p> +<p>Far wandering from the dear maternal fold,</p> +<p>And shelter him in His all-circling arms,</p> +<p>In the green valleys of Immortal rest.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And so the angel passed from scene to scene</p> +<p>Of human suffering, like that blessed One,</p> +<p>Himself the man of sorrows and of grief,</p> +<p>Who came to earth to teach the law of love,</p> +<p>And pour sweet balm upon the mourner’s heart,</p> +<p>And raise the fallen and restore the lost.</p> +<p>Bright vision of my dreams! thy light shall shine</p> +<p>Through all the darkness of this weary world—</p> +<p>Its selfishness, its coolness, and its sin,</p> +<p>Pure as the holy evening star of love,</p> +<p>The brightest planet in the host of heaven.</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_THEIR_TRIALS' id='CHAPTER_III_THEIR_TRIALS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III +<span class='chsub'> <br />THEIR TRIALS</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='OLD_MAIDS' id='OLD_MAIDS'></a> +<h3>OLD MAIDS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>This would be a dark world without old maids—God +bless them! No one can measure their usefulness. +Many a one of them has never married because she has +never found a man good enough for her. The saddest +mourners the world ever saw were some of our Southern +girls whose hearts and hopes were buried in a soldier’s +grave in Virginia or the Far West. For four years the +daughters of the South waited for their lovers, and alas! +many waited in a life widowhood of unutterable sorrow. +After the seven days’ battles in front of Richmond a +horseman rode up to the door of one of the houses on +—— street in Richmond and cried out to an anxious +mother: “Your son is safe, but Captain —— is killed.” +On the opposite side of the street a fair young girl was +sitting. She was the betrothed of the ill-fated captain, +and heard the crushing announcement. That’s the way +war made so many Southern girls widows without coming +to the marriage altar.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“It matters little now, Lorena;</p> +<p class='indent2'>The past is the eternal past.</p> +<p>Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Life’s tide is ebbing out so fast</p> +<p>But, there’s a future—oh, thank God—</p> +<p class='indent2'>Of life this is so small a part;</p> +<p>’Tis dust to dust beneath the sod,</p> +<p class='indent2'>But there—up there,—’tis heart to heart.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The writer is so partial to the old maids of the Confederacy +that he is afraid of a charge of extravagance +were he to say anything more. But the author of this +book is not the only one to admire and love them. Hear +what another old Confederate soldier says in the following +letter in the Atlanta <i>Journal</i>:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Sugar Valley, Ga.</span></p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear Miss Thomas:</span></p> +<p>Will you permit an old Confederate soldier, who has +nearly reached his three-score and ten, to occupy a seat +while he says a few words?</p> +<p>The old maids of to-day were young girls in my youthful +days. They were once young and happy and looked +forward with bright hopes to the future, while the +flowers opened as pretty, the birds sung as sweetly, and +the sun shone as brightly as it does to the young girls of +to-day. They had sweethearts; they loved and were +loved in return; they had pleasant dreams of the coming +future to be passed in their own happy homes surrounded +by husband and children. But, alas! the dark +war clouds lowered above the horizon and all their +bright dreams of the future were overcast with gloom. +They loved with a pure and unselfish devotion, but they +loved their country best. The young men of the sixties +were the first to respond to their country’s call and +marched away to the front, to undergo the hardships and +dangers of a soldier’s life.</p> +<p>Now, can you imagine the pangs that rent the maiden’s +breast as she bid farewell, maybe for the last time this +side of eternity, to the one who was dearer than her own +heart’s blood, as she watched his manly form clothed in +his uniform of gray disappear in the distance? She tried +to be brave when she bade him go and fight the battles +of his country. She remained at home and prayed to an +all-wise and merciful God to spare him amidst the storm +of iron and lead, but her heart seemed rent in twain and +all of her bright hopes for the future seemed turned to +ashes. The weary days and months passed in dread suspense.</p> +<p>Now and then a letter from the front revived her +drooping spirits, as her soldier boy told of his many +escapes amid the charging columns and roar of battle. +After many months or maybe years she received the sad +tidings that her gallant soldier was no more; his gallant +spirit had flashed out with the guns, and his manly +form, wrapped in a soldier’s blanket, had been consigned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +to an unmarked grave far away from home and loved +ones. The last rays of hope fled, and she resigned herself +to her sad and lonely fate. They were true to their +country in its sore distress, true to their heroes wearing +the gray, and true to their God who doeth all things +well. Could any one lead a more consecrated life? +Now, let us, instead of deriding, cast the veil of charity +over their desolate lives.</p> +<p>The once smooth cheek is furrowed with the wrinkles +of time, the glossy braids have whitened with the snows +of winter, the once graceful form is bending under the +weight of years, while the bright eyes have grown dim +watching, not for the soldier in gray, but for the summons +that calls her to meet him on that bright and beautiful +shore, there to be with loved ones who have gone +before, and receive the reward of “Well done, thou good +and faithful servant.” Soon the last one of those +patriotic women of the sixties will have passed over the +river, and their like may never be seen again, but their +love of home and country will be handed down to generations +yet unknown.</p> +<p>With best wishes for the household,</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>W. H. Andrews</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_MOTHERS_LETTER' id='A_MOTHERS_LETTER'></a> +<h3>A MOTHER’S LETTER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From a dying soldier boy.]</p> +<p>The Alabama papers in 1863 published the following +letter from Private John Moseley, a youth who gave up +his life at Gettysburg:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='center'><span class='smcap'>Battlefield, Gettysburg, Pa.</span>,<br /> +<i>July 4, 1863</i>.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear Mother</span>:</p> +<p>I am here, prisoner of war and mortally wounded. I +can live but a few hours more at furthest. I was shot +fifty yards from the enemy’s line. They have been exceedingly +kind to me. I have no doubt as to the final +result of this battle, and I hope I may live long enough to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +hear the shouts of victory before I die. I am very weak. +Do not mourn my loss. I had hoped to have been spared, +but a righteous God has ordered it otherwise, and I feel +prepared to trust my case in His hands. Farewell to you +all. Pray that God may receive my soul.</p> +<p class='sig1'>Your unfortunate son,</p> +<p class='sig2'><span class='smcap'>John</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TOM_AND_HIS_YOUNG_MASTER' id='TOM_AND_HIS_YOUNG_MASTER'></a> +<h3>TOM AND HIS YOUNG MASTER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond During the War, pages 178-179.]</p> +<p>A young soldier from Georgia brought with him to +the war in Virginia a young man who had been brought +up with him on his father’s plantation. On leaving his +home with his regiment, the mother of the young soldier +said to his negro slave: “Now, Tom, I commit your +master Jemmy into your keeping. Don’t let him suffer +for anything with which you can supply him. If he is +sick, nurse him well, my boy; and if he dies, bring his +body home to me; if wounded, take care of him; and +oh! if he is killed in battle, don’t let him be buried on the +field, but secure his body for me, and bring him home to +be buried!” The negro faithfully promised his mistress +that all her wishes should be attended to, and came on +to the seat of war charged with the grave responsibility +placed upon him.</p> +<p>In one of the battles around Richmond the negro saw +his young master when he entered the fight, and saw him +when he fell, but no more of him. The battle became +fierce, the dust and smoke so dense that the company to +which he was attached, wholly enveloped in the cloud, +was hidden from the sight of the negro, and it was not +until the battle was over that Tom could seek for his +young master. He found him in a heap of slain. Removing +the mangled remains, torn frightfully by a piece +of shell, he conveyed them to an empty house, where he +laid them out in the most decent order he could, and +securing the few valuables found on his person, he sought +a conveyance to carry the body to Richmond. Ambulances +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +were in too great requisition for those whose lives +were not extinct to permit the body of a dead man to be +conveyed in one of them. He pleaded most piteously for +a place to bring in the body of his young master. It was +useless, and he was repulsed; but finding some one to +guard the dead, he hastened into the city and hired a cart +and driver to go out with him to bring in the body to +Richmond.</p> +<p>When he arrived again at the place where he had left +it, he was urged to let it be buried on the field, and was +told that he would not be allowed to take it from Richmond, +and therefore it were better to be buried there. “I +can’t do it. I promised my mistress (his mother) to bring +his body home to her if he got killed, and I’ll go home +with it or I’ll die by it; I can’t leave my master Jemmy +here.” The boy was allowed to have the body and +brought it to Richmond, where he was furnished with a +coffin, and the circumstances being made known, the +faithful slave, in the care of a wounded officer who went +South, was permitted to carry the remains of his master +to his distant home in Georgia. The heart of the mother +was comforted in the possession of the precious body of +her child, and in giving it a burial in the church-yard near +his own loved home.</p> +<p>Fee or reward for this noble act of fidelity would have +been an insult to the better feelings of this poor slave; +but when he delivered up the watch and other things +taken from the person of his young master, the mistress +returned him the watch, and said: “Take this watch, +Tom, and keep it for the sake of my boy; ’tis but a poor +reward for such services as you have rendered him and +his mother.” The poor woman, quite overcome, could +only add: “God bless you, boy!”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='I_KNEW_YOU_WOULD_COME' id='I_KNEW_YOU_WOULD_COME'></a> +<h3>“I KNEW YOU WOULD COME”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 22, pages 58-59.]</p> +<p>Col. W. R. Aylett tells the following tender story:</p> +<p>Once during the war, when the lines of the enemy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +separated me from my home, I was an inmate of my +brother’s Richmond home while suffering from a wound. +As soon as I could walk about a little, my first steps were +directed to Seabrook’s Hospital to see some of my dear +comrades who were worse wounded than I. While sitting +by the cot of a friend, who was soon to “pass over +the river and rest under the shade of the trees,” I witnessed +a scene that I can hardly ever think of without +quickened pulse and moist eye.</p> +<p>A beautiful boy, too young to fight and die, and a +member of an Alabama regiment, was dying from a +terrible wound a few feet off. His mother had been telegraphed +for at his request. In the wild delirium of his +dying moments he had been steadily calling for her, “Oh, +mother, come; do come quickly!” Then, under the influence +of opiates given to smooth his entrance into +eternal rest, he dozed and slumbered. The thunders of +the great guns along the lines of the immortal Lee roused +him up. Just then his dying eyes rested upon one of the +lovely matrons of Richmond advancing toward him. +His reeling brain and distempered imagination mistook +her for his mother. Raising himself up, with a wild, +delirious cry of joy, which rang throughout the hospital, +he cried: “Oh, mother! I knew you would come! I +knew you would come! I can die easy now;” and she, +humoring his illusion, let him fall upon her bosom, and +he died happy in her arms, her tears flowing for him as +if he had been her own son.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='LETTERS_FROM_THE_POOR_AT_HOME' id='LETTERS_FROM_THE_POOR_AT_HOME'></a> +<h3>LETTERS FROM THE POOR AT HOME</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember.]</p> +<p>A thousand evidences of the loving care and energetic +labor of the patient ones at home, telling an affecting +story that knocked hard at the gates of the heart, were the +portals ever so firmly closed; and with all these came +letters written by poor, ignorant ones who often had no +knowledge of how such communications should be addressed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +These letters, making inquiries concerning +patients from anxious relatives at home, directed oftener +to my office than my home, came in numbers, and were +queer mixtures of ignorance, bad grammar, worse spelling, +and simple feeling. However absurd the style, the +love that filled them chastened and purified them. Many +are stored away, and though irresistibly ludicrous, are +too sacred to print for public amusement. In them could +be detected the prejudices of the different sections. One +old lady in upper Georgia wrote a pathetic appeal for a +furlough for her son. She called me “My dear sir,” +while still retaining my feminine address, and though expressing +the strongest desire for her son’s restoration to +health, entreated in moving accents that if his life could +not be spared, that he should not be buried in “Ole Virginny +dirt”—rather a derogatory term to apply to the +sacred soil that gave birth to the Presidents,—the soil of +the Old Dominion.</p> +<p>Almost all of these letters told the same sad tale of +destitution of food and clothing; even shoes of the +roughest kind being either too expensive for the mass or +unattainable by the expenditure of any sum, in many +parts of the country. For the first two years of the war, +privations were lightly dwelt upon and courageously +borne, but when want and suffering pressed heavily, as +times grew more stringent, there was a natural longing +for the stronger heart and frame to bear part of the burden. +Desertion is a crime that meets generally with as +much contempt as cowardice, and yet how hard for the +husband or father to remain inactive in winter quarters, +knowing that his wife and little ones were literally starving +at home—not even at home, for few homes were left.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='LIFE_IN_RICHMOND_DURING_THE_WAR' id='LIFE_IN_RICHMOND_DURING_THE_WAR'></a> +<h3>LIFE IN RICHMOND DURING THE WAR</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Southern Historical Papers, Volume 19. From the <i>Cosmopolitan</i>, December, +1891; by Edward M. Alfriend.]</p> +<p>For many months after the beginning of the war between +the States, Richmond was an extremely gay, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +bright, and happy city. Except that its streets were filled +with handsomely attired officers and that troops constantly +passed through it, there was nothing to indicate +the horrors or sorrows of war, or the fearful deprivations +that subsequently befell it. As the war progressed its +miseries tightened their bloody grasp upon the city, +happiness was nearly destroyed, and the hearts of the +people were made to bleed. During the time of McClellan’s +investment of Richmond, and the seven days’ fighting +between Lee’s army and his own, every cannon +that was fired could be heard in every home in Richmond, +and as every home had its son or sons at the front of +Lee’s army, it can be easily understood how great was +the anguish of every mother’s heart in the Confederate +capital. These mothers had cheerfully given their sons +to the Southern cause, illustrating, as they sent them to +battle, the heroism of the Spartan mother, who, when +she gave the shield to her son, told him to return with it +or on it.</p> +<h4><i>Happy Phases</i></h4> +<p>And yet, during the entire war, Richmond had happy +phases to its social life. Entertainments were given +freely and very liberally the first year of the war, and at +them wine and suppers were graciously furnished, but as +the war progressed all this was of necessity given up, and +we had instead what were called “starvation parties.”</p> +<p>The young ladies of the city, accompanied by their +male escorts (generally Confederate officers on leave) +would assemble at a fashionable residence that before the +war had been the abode of wealth, and have music and +plenty of dancing, but not a morsel of food or a drop of +drink was seen. And this form of entertainment became +the popular and universal one in Richmond. Of course, +no food or wine was served, simply because the host +could not get it, or could not afford it. And at these +starvation parties the young people of Richmond and the +young army officers assembled and danced as brightly +and as happily as though a supper worthy of Lucullus +awaited them.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></div> +<p>The ladies were simply dressed, many of them without +jewelry, because the women of the South had given their +jewelry to the Confederate cause. Often on the occasion +of these starvation parties, some young Southern girl +would appear in an old gown belonging to her mother or +grandmother, or possibly a still more remote ancestor, +and the effect of the antique garment was very peculiar; +but no matter what was worn, no matter how peculiarly +any one might be attired, no matter how bad the music, +no matter how limited the host’s or hostess’s ability to +entertain, everybody laughed, danced, and was happy, +although the reports of the cannon often boomed in their +ears, and all deprivations, all deficiencies, were looked on +as a sacrifice to the Southern cause.</p> +<h4><i>The Dress of a Grandmother</i></h4> +<p>I remember going to a starvation party during the war +with a Miss M., a sister of Annie Rive’s mother. She +wore a dress belonging to her great-grandmother or +grandmother, and she looked regally handsome in it. +She was a young lady of rare beauty, and as thoroughbred +in every feature of her face or pose and line of her +body as a reindeer, and with this old dress on she looked +as though the portrait of some ancestor had stepped out +of its frame.</p> +<p>Such spectacles were very common at our starvation +parties. On one occasion I attended a starvation party +at the residence of Mr. John Enders, an old and honored +citizen of Richmond, and, of course, there was no supper. +Among those present was Willie Allan, the second +son of the gentleman, Mr. John Allan, who adopted +Edgar Allan Poe, and gave him his middle name. About +1 o’clock in the morning he came to one other gentleman +and myself, and asked us to go to his home just across +the street, saying he thought he could give us some supper. +Of course, we eagerly accepted his invitation and +accompanied him to his house. He brought out a half +dozen mutton chops and some bread, and we had what +was to us a royal supper. I spent the night at the Allan +home and slept in the same room with Willie Allan. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +next morning there was a tap on the door, and I heard +the mother’s gentle voice calling: “Willie, Willie.” He +answered, “Yes, mother; what is it?” And she replied: +“Did you eat the mutton chops last night?” He +answered, “Yes,” when she said, “Well, then, we haven’t +any breakfast.”</p> +<h4><i>Frightful Contrasts</i></h4> +<p>The condition of the Allan household was that of all +Richmond. Sometimes the contrasts that occurred in +these social gayeties in Richmond were frightful, ghastly. +A brilliant, handsome, happy, joyous young officer, full +of hope and promise, would dance with a lovely girl and +return to his command. A few days would elapse, another +“starvation” would occur, the officer would be +missed, he would be asked for, and the reply come, +“Killed in battle;” and frequently the same girls with +whom he danced a few nights before would attend his +funeral from one of the churches of Richmond. Can life +have any more terrible antithesis than this?</p> +<p>A Georgia lady was once remonstrating with General +Sherman against the conduct of some of his men, when +she said: “General, this is barbarity,” and General Sherman, +who was famous for his pregnant epigrams, replied: +“Madame, war is barbarity.” And so it is.</p> +<p>On one occasion, when I was attending a starvation +party in Richmond, the dancing was at its height and +everybody was bright and happy, when the hostess, who +was a widow, was suddenly called out of the room. A +hush fell on everything, the dancing stopped, and every +one became sad, all having a premonition in those +troublous times that something fearful had happened. +We were soon told that her son had been killed late that +evening, in a skirmish in front of Richmond, a few miles +from his home.</p> +<p>Wounded and sick men and officers were constantly +brought into the homes of the people of Richmond to be +taken care of, and every home had in it a sick or wounded +Confederate soldier. From the association thus brought +about many a love affair occurred and many a marriage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +resulted. I know of several wives and mothers in the +South who lost their hearts and won their soldier husbands +in this way, so this phase of life during the war +near Richmond was prolific of romance.</p> +<h4><i>General Lee Kissed the Girls</i></h4> +<p>General Robert E. Lee would often leave the front, +come into Richmond and attend these starvation +parties, and on such occasions he was not only the +cynosure of all eyes, but the young ladies all crowded +around him, and he kissed every one of them. This was +esteemed his privilege and he seemed to enjoy the exercise +of it. On such occasions he was thoroughly urbane, +but always the dignified, patrician soldier in his bearing.</p> +<p>Private theatricals were also a form of amusement +during the war. I saw several of them. The finest I +witnessed, however, was a performance of Sheridan’s +comedy, of Alabama, played by Mrs. Malaprop. Her +rendition of the part was one of the best I ever saw, +rivalling that of any professional. The audience was +very brilliant, the President of the Confederacy, Mrs. +Davis, Judah P. Benjamin, and others of equal distinction +being present.</p> +<p>Mrs. Davis is a woman of great intellectual powers and +a social queen, and at these entertainments she was very +charming. Mr. Davis was always simple, unpretentious, +and thoroughly cordial in his manner. To those who +saw him on these occasions it was impossible to associate +his gentle, pleasing manner with the stern decision with +which he was then directing his side of the greatest war +of modern times. The world has greatly misunderstood +Mr. Davis, and in no way more than in personal traits of +his character. My brother, the late Frank H. Alfriend, +was Mr. Davis’s biographer, and through personal intercourse +with Mr. Davis I knew him well. In all his social, +domestic, and family relations, he was the gentlest, the +noblest, the tenderest of men. As a father and husband +he was almost peerless, for his domestic life was the +highest conceivable.</p> +<p>Mr. Davis, at the executive mansion, held weekly receptions, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +to which the public were admitted. These continued +until nearly the end of the war. The occasions +were not especially marked, but Mr. and Mrs. Davis +were always delightful hosts.</p> +<h4><i>John Wise and His Big Clothes</i></h4> +<p>The spectacle presented at the social gatherings, particularly +the starvation parties, was picturesque in the +extreme. The ladies often took down the damask and +other curtains and made dresses of them. My friend, +Hon. John S. Wise, formerly of Virginia, now of New +York, tells the following story of himself: He was +serving in front of Richmond and was invited to come +into the city to attend a starvation party. Having no +coat of his own fit to wear, he borrowed one from a +brother officer nearly twice his height. The sleeves of +his coat covered his hands entirely, the skirt came below +his knees several inches, and the buttons in the back were +down on his legs. So attired, Captain Wise went to the +party. His first partner in the dance was a young lady +of Richmond belonging to one of its best families. She +was attired in the dress of her great-grandmother, and a +part of this dress was a stomacher very suggestive in its +proportions. Captain Wise relates with exquisite humor +that in the midst of the dance he found himself in front +of a mirror, and that the sight presented by himself and +his partner was so ridiculous that he burst out laughing; +and his partner turned and looked at him angrily, left +his side and never spoke to him again.</p> +<h4><i>Contrasts That Were Pretty</i></h4> +<p>The varied and sometimes handsome uniforms of the +Confederate officers commingling with each other and +contrasting with the simple, pretty, sometimes antiquated +dresses of the ladies, made pictures that were beautiful +in their contrasts of color and of tone. An artist would +have found these scenes infinite opportunity for his pencil +or brush.</p> +<p>I am sure that this phase of social life in Richmond +during the war is without parallel in the world’s history. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +The army officers, of course, had only their uniforms, +and the women wore whatever they could get to wear. +In the last year of the war, particularly the last few +months, the pinch of deprivation, especially as to food, +became frightful. There were many families in Richmond +that were in well-nigh a starving condition. I +know of some that lived for days on pea soup and bread. +Confederate money was almost valueless. Its purchasing +power had so depreciated that it used to be said it +took a basketful to go to market. Of course, the people +had very few greenbacks, and very little gold or silver. +The city was invested by two armies, Grant’s and Lee’s, +and its railroad communications constantly destroyed +by the Union cavalry. Supplies of food were very +scarce and enormously costly; a barrel of flour cost +several hundred dollars in Confederate money, and just +before the fall of the Confederacy I paid $500 for a pair +of heavy boots. The suffering of this period was dreadful, +and when Richmond capitulated many of its people +were in an almost starving condition. Indeed, there was +little food outside, and the Southern troops were but +little better off.</p> +<h4><i>Loyalty of the Slaves</i></h4> +<p>But in April, 1865, the Confederacy ceased to exist; +it passed into history, and Richmond was occupied by +the Northern army. Many of its people were without +food and without money—I mean money of the United +States. It was at this period that the colored people of +Richmond, slaves up to the time the war ended, but now +no longer bondsmen, showed their loyalty and love for +their former masters and mistresses. They, of course, +had access to the commissary of the United States, and +many, very many, of these former negro slaves went to +the United States commissary, obtained food seemingly +for themselves, and took it in basketfuls to their former +owners, who were without food or money. I do not +recall any record in the world’s history nobler than this—indeed, +equal to it.</p> +<p>These are memories of a dead past, and thank God! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +we now live under the old flag and in a happy, reunited +country, which the South loves with a patriotic devotion +unsurpassed by the North itself.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS' id='THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS'></a> +<h3>THE WOMEN OF NEW ORLEANS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>While the patriotic women of New Orleans saw very +little of war’s ravages, yet they endured three years of +war’s hardships. The Crescent City fell into the hands +of the Federals in 1862, Commodore Farragut commanding +the navy, and General B. F. Butler the land forces. +The latter was made military governor. Farragut +carried on war against combatants, and as an officer is +to this day respected and honored by the Southern people. +Butler carried on war on civilians and against defenceless +women. The history of these women cannot be told +without telling of their odious military tyrant.</p> +<p>President Davis in his proclamation said:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The helpless women have been torn from their homes and subjected +to solitary confinement, some in fortresses and prisons, and +one, especially, on an island of barren sand under a tropical sun, +have been fed with loathsome rations that had been condemned as +unfit for soldiers, and have been exposed to the vilest insults.</p> +<p>Egress from the city has been refused to those whose fortitude +could withstand the test, even to lone and aged women and to helpless +children; and after being ejected from their homes and robbed +of their property, they have been left to starve in the streets or subsist +on charity.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But this does not tell half the story. The civilized +world stood aghast when General Butler issued his infamous +“Order No. 28,” which reads as follows:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>As the officers and soldiers of the United States have been subjected +to insults from the women (calling themselves ladies) of +New Orleans in return for the most scrupulous noninterference and +courtesy on our part, it is ordered that hereafter when any female +shall by word, gesture, or movement insult or show contempt for +any officer or soldier of the United States, she shall be regarded and +held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation.</p> +<p>By Command of Major General Butler.</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div> +<p>Human language cannot describe the cowardice, the +meanness, the brutality of such an order. All Europe denounced +him, President Davis outlawed him, some of his +own Northern newspapers would not at first believe that +he had issued such an order.</p> +<p>From that time on the name of “Butler, the Beast,” +was fastened to him. In this day we pity women who +are in danger of falling into the clutches of the black +brute. These women of 1862 were under the heels of a +white brute. Every American patriot will hang his head +in shame for all time that President Lincoln kept Butler +in high military office to the end of the war, and the +government never did repudiate his infamous official outrage. +Be it recorded to the everlasting honor of the +Federal army that none of the soldiers of “The Beast” +availed themselves of the license conferred by his order.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='INCORRIGIBLE_LITTLE_DEVIL' id='INCORRIGIBLE_LITTLE_DEVIL'></a> +<h3>“INCORRIGIBLE LITTLE DEVIL”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston’s Recollections, pages 65-66.]</p> +<p>In New Orleans, soon after the war, I saw in a drawing-room, +one day, an elaborately framed letter, of +which, the curtains being drawn, I could read only the +signature, which to my astonishment was that of General +Butler.</p> +<p>“What is that?” I asked of the young gentlewoman I +was visiting.</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s my diploma, my certificate of good behavior +from General Butler;” and taking it down from +the wall, she permitted me to read it, telling me at the +same time its history. It seems that the young lady had +been very active in aiding captured Confederates to +escape from New Orleans, and for this and other similar +offenses she was arrested several times. A gentleman +who knew General Butler personally had interested himself +in behalf of her and some friends, and upon making +an appeal for their discharge received this personal note +from the commanding general, in which he declared his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +willingness to discharge all the others. “But that black-eyed +Miss B.,” he wrote, “seems to me an incorrigible +little devil, whom even prison fare won’t tame.” The +young lady had framed the note, and she cherishes it yet, +doubtless.</p> +<p>Later on Butler was given a command in the East and +General Banks put in control at New Orleans. He was +clean and soldierly, but more stern and overbearing in +some respects than Butler. Dr. Stone, the most prominent +citizen of New Orleans, said to the writer in 1863: +“We could manage Butler better than we can Banks. +We could scare Butler, but we can’t move Banks.” Our +poor women, patient and prudent through it all, were out +of the fire, but they were in the frying-pan.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_HANDKERCHIEFS' id='THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_HANDKERCHIEFS'></a> +<h3>THE BATTLE OF THE HANDKERCHIEFS</h3> +</div> +<p>We are indebted to the Honorable W. H. Seymour for +the following very interesting story:</p> +<p>There was a great stir and intense excitement one time +during General Banks’s administration. A number of the +“rebels” were to leave for the “Confederacy.” Their +friends, amounting to some 20,000 persons, women and +children principally, wended their way down to the levee +to see them off and to take their last farewell. Such a +quantity of women frightened the Federal officials: they +were greatly exasperated at their waving of handkerchiefs, +their loud calling to their friends, and their going +on to vessels in the vicinity.</p> +<p>Orders were given to “stand back,” but no heed was +given; the bayonets were pointed at the ladies, but they +were not scared. A lady ran across to get a nearer view. +An officer seized her by the arm, but she escaped, leaving +a scarf in his possession. At last the military received +orders to do its duty.</p> +<p>The affair was called the Pocket Handkerchief War +and has been put in verse, as follows:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<h4><i>The Greatest Victory of the War—La Battaille des +Mouchoirs.</i></h4> +<p class='center'>[By Capt. James Dinkins, in New Orleans <i>Picayune</i>; Southern Historical +Papers, Volume 31.]</p> +<p class='center'>[Fought Friday, February 20, 1863, at the head of Gravier Street.]</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>Of all the battles modern or old,</p> +<p>By poet sung or historian told;</p> +<p>Of all the routs that ever was seen</p> +<p>From the days of Saladin to Marshall Turenne,</p> +<p>Or all the victories later yet won,</p> +<p>From Waterloo’s field to that of Bull Run;</p> +<p>All, all, must hide their fading light,</p> +<p>In the radiant glow of the handkerchief fight;</p> +<p>And a paean of joy must thrill the land,</p> +<p>When they hear of the deeds of Banks’s band.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>’Twas on a levee, where the tide of “Father Mississippi” flows,</p> +<p>Our gallant lads, their country’s pride,</p> +<p>Won this great victory o’er her foes,</p> +<p>Four hundred rebels were to leave</p> +<p>That morning for Secessia’s shades,</p> +<p>When down there came (you’d scarce believe)</p> +<p>A troop of children, wives, and maids,</p> +<p>To wave their farewells, to bid God-speed,</p> +<p>To shed for them the parting tear,</p> +<p>To waft their kisses as the meed of praise to soldiers’ hearts most dear.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>They came in hundreds; thousands lined</p> +<p class='indent2'>The streets, the roofs, the shipping, too;</p> +<p>Their ribbons dancing in the wind,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Their bright eyes flashing love’s adieu.</p> +<p>’Twas then to danger we awoke,</p> +<p class='indent2'>But nobly faced the unarmed throng,</p> +<p>And beat them back with hearty stroke,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Till reinforcements came along.</p> +<p>We waited long; our aching sight</p> +<p class='indent2'>Was strained in eager, anxious gaze,</p> +<p>At last we saw the bayonets bright</p> +<p class='indent2'>Flash in the sunlight’s welcome blaze.</p> +<p>The cannon’s dull and heavy roll,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Fell greeting on our gladdened ear,</p> +<p>Then fired each eye, then glowed each soul,</p> +<p class='indent2'>For well we knew the strife was near.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Charge!” rang the cry, and on we dashed</p> +<p class='indent2'>Upon our female foes,</p> +<p>As seas in stormy fury lashed,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whene’er the tempest blows.</p> +<p>Like chaff their parasols went down,</p> +<p class='indent2'>As our gallants rushed;</p> +<p>And many a bonnet, robe, and gown</p> +<p class='indent2'>Was torn to shreds or crushed;</p> +<p>Though well we plied the bayonet,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Still some our efforts braved,</p> +<p>Defiant both of blow and threat,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Their handkerchiefs still waved.</p> +<p>Thick grew the fight, loud rolled the din,</p> +<p class='indent2'>When “charge!” rang out again</p> +<p>And then the cannon thundered in,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And scoured o’er the plain.</p> +<p>Down, ’neath the unpitying iron heels of horses children sank,</p> +<p class='indent2'>While through the crowd the cannon</p> +<p>Wheels mowed roads on either flank,</p> +<p class='indent2'>One startled shriek, one hollow groan,</p> +<p>One headlong rush, and then</p> +<p class='indent2'>“Huzza!” the field was all our own,</p> +<p>For we were Banks’s men.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p> +<p>That night, released from all our toils,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Our dangers passed and gone,</p> +<p>We gladly gathered up the spoils</p> +<p class='indent2'>Our chivalry had won!</p> +<p>Five hundred ’kerchiefs we had snatched</p> +<p class='indent2'>From rebel ladies’ hands,</p> +<p>Ten parasols, two shoes (not matched),</p> +<p class='indent2'>Some ribbons, belts, and bands,</p> +<p>And other things that I forgot;</p> +<p class='indent2'>But then you’ll find them all</p> +<p>As trophies in that hallowed spot—</p> +<p class='indent2'>The cradle—Faneuil Hall!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And long on Massachusetts’ shore</p> +<p class='indent2'>And on Green Mountain’s side,</p> +<p>Or where Long Island’s breakers roar,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And by the Hudson’s tide,</p> +<p>In times to come, when lamps are lit,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And fires brightly blaze,</p> +<p>While round the knees of heroes sit</p> +<p class='indent2'>The young of happier days,</p> +<p>Who listen to their storied deeds,</p> +<p class='indent2'>To them sublimely grand,</p> +<p>Then glory shall award its meed</p> +<p class='indent2'>Of praise to Banks’s band,</p> +<p>And Fame proclaim that they alone</p> +<p class='indent2'>(In Triumph’s loudest note)</p> +<p>May wear henceforth, for valor shown,</p> +<p class='indent2'>A woman’s petticoat.</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS_AND_VICKSBURG_PRISONERS' id='THE_WOMEN_OF_NEW_ORLEANS_AND_VICKSBURG_PRISONERS'></a> +<h3>THE WOMEN OF NEW ORLEANS AND VICKSBURG PRISONERS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>General Pemberton’s army at Vicksburg surrendered +on the 4th of July, 1863. According to the liberal terms, +the thirty thousand Confederates were paroled and +allowed to march to their homes across the country. It +was about a month before the sick and wounded could +be removed. They were sent on Federal transports down +the Mississippi River by the way of New Orleans and +thence across the Gulf of Mexico by Fort Morgan to +Mobile.</p> +<p>The first boatload consisted of the sick in the hospital, +which was under the charge of Dr. Richard Whitfield, of +Alabama. I went to Vicksburg as sergeant major of the +Twentieth Alabama Regiment, but, at the request of the +Thirtieth Alabama, had been commissioned captain and +appointed chaplain of that command a few months before +the surrender. On the very evening of the surrender +I was taken very sick and for some days lay at the point +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +of death. Under the kind nursing of friends in Vicksburg, +and by the good medicines provided by the noble +Chaplain Porter, of Illinois, of the Federal army, I began +to rally in time to be moved to Dr. Whitfield’s hospital +and be put aboard the first boat for home. By the time +we reached New Orleans I had nearly recovered my +usual strength. At New Orleans we were transferred to +a gulf steamer, which lay at the wharf for nearly two +days. Soon after our arrival it looked as if the whole +population of the Crescent City had crowded down to +look at us and they stood there all day to comfort us with +their smiles during our stay.</p> +<p>General Banks allowed Dr. Stone and five other physicians +to come on our steamer and look after the sick, to +furnish coffins for the dead and remove them for burial. +No other citizens could pass the sentinels or a rope guard +extending about thirty yards from the boat. A detail of +Federal soldiers kept all our private Confederates on the +boat. There were only three or four Confederate officers +and we were allowed full liberty to go to the guard line +and talk to the citizens. Very soon the people began to +bring such supplies and refreshments as General Banks +would allow, and they literally loaded the steamer with +all sorts of good things, from hams and pickles down to +fans, pipes, and tobacco. Every soldier had enough for +his wants and as much as he could take home. Dr. +Stone told me that General Banks would not allow his +people to do half of what they were anxious to do. He +said the people wanted to keep us a while and clothe us +in new outfits.</p> +<p>I must just here put on record one of the most touching +instances of soldierly generosity and kindness that +ever occurred in war. Lieutenant Winslow, of Massachusetts, +was in command of the Federal guard on our +steamer, and Captain —— in charge of the guard on +the wharf. These two gallant young Federal officers, +although in full dress uniform, worked like beavers all +day under a hot sun, in assisting me to get the refreshments +and provisions from the hands of the ladies or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +servants at the guard line and take them to the boat, there +to be handed to our men. The good women thought, of +course, we had wounded men among us, but there was +not one. An amazing quantity of lint and bandages was +sent aboard. In the linen furnished for this purpose +were whole garments of the finest fibre of female underwear, +most of it all bright and new. Many a rusty +Vicksburg soldier that night decked himself in a fine +nightrobe with amazingly short sleeves, and many a +soldier’s wife accepted for her own use the dainty peace-offering +when we reached home. None of these good +people, men nor women, were allowed to cheer us. All +that they could do was to give us sympathy by their presence +and their smiles. I saw the police or the soldiers +arrest man after man for some disloyal utterance.</p> +<p>The day we left the throng of beautiful women seemed +to extend up and down the levee as far as the eye could +reach. As the boat pushed off for Mobile our poor fellows +crowded the deck and the excitement on shore grew +intense. Neither side could cheer and the tension was +painful. Finally the awfully trying stillness was broken +by the waving of a little white handkerchief, in a fair +woman’s hand.</p> +<p>In a moment thousands of others were to be seen, +silently telling us “Good-bye and God bless you.” In a +few moments we could see excitement in every face, and +presently a little tender woman’s voice screamed out +“Hurrah! hurrah!” and then a thousand sweet throats +took up the shout. That “Hurrah” from Southern +women and those handkerchiefs waved under the point +of hostile bayonets told with pathos of a world of patriotism +in the breasts of those noble women. We old Confederates +were overcome. One grim old North Carolinian, +standing by my side, with Federal guards all +around us, and the tears streaming down his sun-hardened +cheeks, cried out at the top of his voice: “Men, +they may kill me, but I tell you I am willing to die a +hundred times for such women as them.” We all felt so, +and the living veterans feel that way yet.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +<a name='IT_DONT_TROUBLE_ME' id='IT_DONT_TROUBLE_ME'></a> +<h3>“IT DON’T TROUBLE ME”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember.]</p> +<p>There was but little sensibility exhibited by soldiers for +the fate of their comrades in field or hospital. The results +of war are here to-day and gone to-morrow. I +stood still, spell-bound by that youthful death-bed, when +my painful revery was broken upon by a drawling voice +from a neighboring bed, which had been calling me such +peculiar names and titles that I had been oblivious to +whom they were addressed.</p> +<p>“Look here. I say, Aunty!—Mammy!—You!” Then +in despair, “Missus Mauma! Kin you gim me sich a +thing as a b’iled sweet pur-r-rta-a-a-tu-ur? I b’long to +the Twenty-secun’ Nor’ Ka-a-a-li-i-na Regiment.” I +told the nurse to remove his bed from proximity to his +dead neighbor, that in the low state of his health from +fever the sight might affect his nerves, but he treated the +suggestion with contempt.</p> +<p>“Don’t make no sort of difference to me; they dies all +around me in the field and it don’t trouble me.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SAVAGE_WAR_IN_THE_VALLEY' id='SAVAGE_WAR_IN_THE_VALLEY'></a> +<h3>SAVAGE WAR IN THE VALLEY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In the Rise and Fall of Confederate Government, Volume 2, pages 700-709.]</p> +<p>On June 19, 1864, Major-General Hunter began his +retreat from before Lynchburg down the Shenandoah +Valley. Lieutenant-General Early, who followed in pursuit, +thus describes the destruction he witnessed along the +route:</p> +<p>“Houses had been burned, and helpless women and +children left without shelter. The country had been +stripped of provisions, and many families left without a +morsel to eat. Furniture and bedding had been cut to +pieces, and old men and women and children robbed of +all the clothing they had, except that on their backs. +Ladies’ trunks had been rifled, and their dresses torn to +pieces in mere wantonness. Even the negro girls had lost +their little finery. At Lexington he had burned the Military +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +Institute with all its contents, including its library +and scientific apparatus. Washington College had been +plundered, and the statue of Washington stolen. The +residence of ex-Governor Letcher at that place had been +burned by orders, and but a few minutes given Mrs. +Letcher and her family to leave the house. In the +county a most excellent Christian gentleman, a Mr. +Creigh, had been hung, because, on a former occasion, he +had killed a straggling and marauding Federal soldier +while in the act of insulting and outraging the ladies of +his family.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_ROBERT_TURNER_WOODSTOCK_VA' id='MRS_ROBERT_TURNER_WOODSTOCK_VA'></a> +<h3>MRS. ROBERT TURNER, WOODSTOCK, VA.</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The patriotic husband was in Lee’s army and had left +his wife at home with two little girls and an infant in +her arms. The home had fallen within the lines of the +Federals and the officers had stationed a guard in the +house for her protection. One night a marauding party +of bummers, who were fleeing from a party of soldiers +seeking to arrest them, came to her house and demanded +that she should go and show them the road they wanted +to take. The soldier guarding her said they were asking +too much and refused to let her go. They shot him down +so near her that his blood fell on her dress. She went +with her little children in the dark night and showed +them the road they asked for, and the poor woman +hastened back to her home, only to hear the ruffians coming +again. They overtook her in the yard and came with +such rough threats that she thought they were going to +kill her, and to save her oldest little girl, she tried to +conceal her by throwing her into some thick shrubbery. +Unfortunately the fall and the excitement inflicted an injury +which followed the child all her life. The marauders +followed the poor mother into the house and threatened +to kill her. But as one of them held a pistol in her +face the pursuing party rushed in and an officer knocked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +the pistol up and shot the ruffian, who proved to be the +one who had killed the guard of the home.</p> +<p>Some one wrote to Mr. Turner of the situation of his +family. General Lee saw the letter and sent Turner +home to remove his little family to a place of safety. +This he did, and promptly returned to his post in the +army, where he served faithfully to the end of the war +and then became a staunch citizen.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='HIGH_PRICE_OF_NEEDLES_AND_THREAD' id='HIGH_PRICE_OF_NEEDLES_AND_THREAD'></a> +<h3>HIGH PRICE OF NEEDLES AND THREAD</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By Walter, a Soldier’s Son; from Mrs. Fannie A. Beer’s Memoirs, pages +293-295.]</p> +<p>My father was once a private soldier in the Confederate +army, and he often tells me interesting stories of the +war. One morning, just as he was going down town, +mother sent me to ask him to change a dollar. He could +not do it, but he said,</p> +<p>“Ask your mother how much change she wants?”</p> +<p>She only wanted a dime to buy a paper of needles and +some silk to mend my jacket. So I went back and asked +for ten cents. Instead of taking it out of his vest pocket, +father opened his pocket-book and said,</p> +<p>“Did you say you wanted ten dollars or ten cents, my +boy?”</p> +<p>“Why, father,” said I, “who ever heard of paying ten +dollars for needles and thread?”</p> +<p>“I have,” said he. “I once heard of a paper of needles, +and a skein of silk, worth more than ten dollars.”</p> +<p>His eyes twinkled and looked so pleasant that I knew +there was a story on hand, so I told mother and sis’ Loo, +who promised to find out all about it. After supper that +night mother coaxed father to tell us the story.</p> +<p>We liked it so well that I got mother to write it down +for the <i>Bivouac</i>.</p> +<p>After the battle of Chickamauga, one of “our mess” +found a needle case which had belonged to some poor +fellow, probably among the killed. He did not place +much value upon the contents, although there was a paper +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +of No. 8 needles, several buttons, and a skein or two of +thread, cut at each end and neatly braided so that each +thread could be smoothly drawn out. He put the whole +thing in his breast-pocket, and thought no more about it. +But one day while out foraging for himself and his mess, +he found himself near a house where money could have +procured a meal of fried chicken, corn-pone, and buttermilk, +besides a small supply to carry back to camp. But +Confederate soldiers’ purses were generally as empty as +their stomachs, and in this instance the lady of the house +did not offer to give away her nice dinner. While the +poor fellow was inhaling the enticing odor, and feeling +desperately hungry, a girl rode up to the gate on horseback, +and bawled out to another girl inside the house,</p> +<p>“Oh, Cindy, I rid over to see if you couldn’t lend me a +needle. I broke the last one I had to-day, and pap says +thar ain’t nary ’nother to be bought in the country hereabouts!”</p> +<p>Cindy declared she was in the same fix, and couldn’t +finish her new homespun dress for that reason.</p> +<p>The soldier just then had an idea. He retired to a +little distance, pulled out his case, sticking two needles +on the front of his jacket, then went back and offered one +of them, with his best bow, to the girl on the horse. +Right away the lady of the house offered to trade for the +one remaining. The result was a plentiful dinner for +himself; and in consideration of a thread or two of silk, +a full haversack and canteen. After this our mess was +well supplied, and our forager began to look sleek and +fat. The secret of his success did not leak out till long +afterward, when he astonished the boys by declaring he +“had been ‘living like a fighting-cock’ on a paper of +needles and two skeins of silk.”</p> +<p>“And,” added father, “if he had paid for all the meals +he got in Confederate money, the amount would have +been far more than ten dollars.”</p> +<p>I know other boys and girls will think this a queer +story, but I hope they will like it as well as mother and +Loo and I did.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +<a name='DESPAIR_AT_HOMEHEROISM_AT_THE_FRONT' id='DESPAIR_AT_HOMEHEROISM_AT_THE_FRONT'></a> +<h3>DESPAIR AT HOME—HEROISM AT THE FRONT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Major Robert Stiles, in Four Years Under Marse Robert, pages 349-350.]</p> +<p>There is one feature of our Confederate struggle, to +which I have already made two or three indirect allusions, +as to which there has been such a strange popular +misapprehension that I feel as if there rested upon the +men who thoroughly understand the situation a solemn +obligation to bring out strongly and clearly the sound and +true view of the matter. I refer to an impression, quite +common, that the desertions from the Confederate +armies, especially in the latter part of the war, indicated +a general lack of devotion to the cause on the part of the +men in the ranks.</p> +<p>On the contrary, it is my deliberate conviction that +Southern soldiers who remained faithful under the unspeakable +pressure of letters and messages revealing suffering, +starvation, and despair at home displayed more +than human heroism. The men who felt this strain most +were the husbands of young wives and fathers of young +children, whom they had supported by their labor, manual +or mental. As the lines of communication in the Confederacy +were more and more broken and destroyed, and +the ability, both of county and public authorities and of +neighbors, to aid them became less and less, the situation +of such families became more and more desperate, and +their appeals more and more piteous to their only earthly +helpers who were far away, filling their places in “the +thin gray line.” Meanwhile the enemy sent into our +camps, often by our own pickets, circulars offering our +men indefinite parole, with free transportation to their +homes.</p> +<p>I am not condemning the Federal Government or military +authorities for making these offers or putting out +these circulars; but if there was ever such a thing as a +conflict of duties, that conflict was presented to the private +soldiers of the Confederate army who belonged to +the class just mentioned, and who received, perhaps simultaneously, +one of these home letters and one of these +Federal circulars; and if ever the strain of such a conflict +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +was great enough to unsettle a man’s reason and to +break a man’s heart strings these men were subjected to +that strain.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_OLD_DRAKES_TERRITORY' id='THE_OLD_DRAKES_TERRITORY'></a> +<h3>THE OLD DRAKE’S TERRITORY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>When Sherman’s army was making its celebrated +“march to the sea,” it cut a swath of fire and desolation +from Atlanta to Savannah and on through the Carolinas. +What food was not seized for the army was consumed by +fire. Mills and barns and hundreds of dwellings were +consigned to the flames. Most of the people fled from +the approach of the Federals and especially were the old +men, who might be thought by negroes and bummers to +have money concealed on their persons or premises, +afraid to fall into their hands. Somewhere not far +from Milledgeville, a well-to-do farmer lay hid in the +woods where he saw the Federals enter his premises and +carry off everything of any use or value. Not a strip of +bedding, not an ear of corn, a hough of a cow nor the +tail of a pig did they leave him. Before the Yankee brigade +got entirely out of sight the old farmer came into +his desolate home. One glance at the wreck and away +he went in pursuit of the Federals. “Oh, General, General, +stop your command,” was the cry. On they +marched without hearing him. On he rushed and cried +as he ran, “Oh, General, oh, General, stop your command.” +Finally when he was nearly out of breath the +cry was heard and the brigade halted.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, man?” said the soldiers, as he +passed on by them, his face all flushed with excitement.</p> +<p>“Where’s the General?”</p> +<p>“Yonder he is, sitting on that black horse.”</p> +<p>Everybody stood still to hear the breathless message.</p> +<p>“Oh, General!”</p> +<p>“Well, what’s the trouble, sir?”</p> +<p>“General, your men have been yonder to my house and +literally ruined me. They have taken everything I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +on God’s earth; they have left me nothing but one old +drake, and he says he is very lonesome, and he wishes +you would come back and get him.”</p> +<p>This was too much for the soldiers. Up went a shout +of laughter and a yell all up and down the lines. The +general was completely unhorsed by the desperate drollery +of the old farmer, and rolled on the ground. Calling +the man to him, he heard more of his story and finally +had a list made of all the property which had been taken +from him and had it all sent back to him, and the old +rebel and the old drake felt better.</p> +<p>I saw much of that old drake’s territory. It was the +only drake or fowl of any kind I ever heard of being left +by Sherman’s bummers. I was with a cavalry company +on Sherman’s flanks or front all the way to Savannah. +Miles and miles of smoke from burning houses, barns, +and mills could be seen every day and the red line shone +by night. He did not burn all the dwellings, but for +months and years there stood the lone chimneys of hundreds +of once happy homes. These chimneys were +called “Sherman’s sentinels.” As he said, “War is hell.” +It is hell when conducted on the devil’s plan instead of the +principles of civilized warfare. For all time to come the +march of Sherman and the burning of the Shenandoah +Valley by Sheridan will cause the American patriot, +North and South, to hang his head in shame.</p> +<p>The women and children in the burned district were, in +many localities, reduced almost to starvation. There is +a lady living now near Blakely, Ga., who, as a little girl +fourteen years old, walked fifteen miles to bring a half +bushel of meal for her mother’s family. Some of the +old men were murdered. The body of old Mr. Brewer, +of Effingham county, father of Judge Harlan Brewer +of Waycross, was never seen by his family after he was +made prisoner. The charred remains of a man were +found in a burned mill not far away. Sherman was the +right man in the right place. He had lived in the South +as a teacher and knew her people; and knew that in fair +and honorable warfare the South never could be subdued. +He knew, too, the devotion of Southern men to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +home and family, and he knew that the quickest way to +thin the lines of Lee and Johnston was to fire the homes +and beggar the families of the Confederate soldiers. As +soon as I saw the lines of his fire I said confidentially to +my captain, “Our men in Virginia can’t stand this. +Sherman has whipped us with fire. He drives the +women and children out of Atlanta and then burns the +country ahead of them. Our cause is lost.” And it was.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“But the whole world was against us;</p> +<p class='indent2'>We fought our fight alone;</p> +<p>To the Conquerors Want and Famine,</p> +<p class='indent2'>We laid our standard down.”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_REFUGEE_IN_RICHMOND' id='THE_REFUGEE_IN_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>THE REFUGEE IN RICHMOND</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By A Lady of Virginia, in Diary of a Refugee, pages 252-254.]</p> +<p>Prices of provisions have risen enormously—bacon, $8 +per pound, butter, $15, etc. Our old friends from the +lower part of Essex, Mr. ——’s parishioners for many +years, sent over a wagon filled most generously with all +manner of necessary things for our larder. We have no +right to complain, for Providence is certainly supplying +our wants. The clerks’ salaries, too, have been raised to +$250 per month, which sounds very large; but when we +remember that flour is $300 per barrel, it sinks into insignificance.</p> +<p>28th.—Our hearts ache for the poor. A few days +ago, as E. was walking out, she met a wretchedly dressed +woman, of miserable appearance, who said she was seeking +the Young Men’s Christian Association, where she +hoped to get assistance and work to do. E. carried her to +the door, but it was closed, and the poor woman’s wants +were pressing. She then brought her home, supplied her +with food, and told her to return to see me the following +afternoon. She came, and with an honest countenance +and manner told me her history. Her name was Brown; +her husband had been a workman in Fredericksburg; he +joined the army, and was killed at the second battle of +Manassas. Many of her acquaintances in Fredericksburg +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +fled last winter during the bombardment; she became +alarmed, and with her three little children fled, +too. She had tried to get work in Richmond; sometimes +she succeeded, but could not supply her wants. A kind +woman had lent her a room and a part of a garden, but +it was outside of the corporation; and although it saved +house-rent, it debarred her from the relief of the associations +formed for supplying the city poor with meal, +wood, etc. She had evidently been in a situation little +short of starvation. I asked her if she could get bread +enough for her children by her work? She said she +could sometimes, and when she could not, she “got turnip-tops +from her piece of a garden, which were now putting +up smartly, and she boiled them, with a little salt, +and fed them on that.”</p> +<p>“But do they satisfy their hunger?” said I.</p> +<p>“Well, it is something to go upon for awhile, but it +does not stick by us like as bread does, and then we gets +hungry again, and I am afraid to let the children eat +them to go to sleep; and sometimes the woman in the +next room will bring the children her leavings, but she +is monstrous poor.”</p> +<p>When I gave her meat for her children, taken from the +bounty of our Essex friends, tears of gratitude ran down +her cheeks; she said they “had not seen meat for so +long.” Poor thing, I promised her that her case should +be known, and that she should not suffer so again. A +soldier’s widow shall not suffer from hunger in Richmond. +It must not be, and will not be when her case is +known.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='DESOLATIONS_OF_WAR' id='DESOLATIONS_OF_WAR'></a> +<h3>DESOLATIONS OF WAR</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Diary of a Refugee, page 283-284.]</p> +<p>When the war is over, where shall we find our old +churches, where her noble homesteads, scenes of domestic +comfort and generous hospitality? Either laid low by +the firebrand, or desecrated and desolated. In the march +of the army, or in the rapid evolutions of raiding parties, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +woe betide the houses which are found deserted. In +many cases the men of the family having gone to the +war, the women and children dare not stay; then the +lawless are allowed to plunder. They seem to take the +greatest delight in breaking up the most elegant or the +most humble furniture, as the case may be; cut the portraits +from the frames, split pianos in pieces, ruin libraries +in any way that suits their fancy; break doors from +their hinges, and locks from the doors; cut the windows +from the frames, and leave no pane of glass unbroken; +carry off house-linen and carpets; the contents of the +store-rooms and pantries, sugar, flour, vinegar, molasses, +pickles, preserves, which cannot be eaten or carried off, +are poured together in one general mass. The horses are +of course taken from the stables; cattle and stock of all +kinds driven off or shot in the woods and fields. Generally, +indeed, I believe always, when the whole army is +moving, inhabited houses are protected. To raiders such +as Hunter and Co. is reserved the credit of committing +such outrages in the presence of ladies—of taking their +watches from their belts, their rings from their fingers, +and their ear-rings from their ears; of searching their +bureaus and wardrobes, and filling pockets and haversacks +in their presence. Is it not, then, wonderful that +soldiers whose families have suffered such things could +be restrained when in a hostile country? It seems to me +to show a marvellous degree of forbearance in the officers +themselves and of discipline in the troops.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='DEATH_OF_A_SOLDIER' id='DEATH_OF_A_SOLDIER'></a> +<h3>DEATH OF A SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Diary of a Refugee, pages 311-313.]</p> +<p>An officer from the far South was brought in mortally +wounded. He had lost both legs in a fight below +Petersburg. The poor fellow suffered excessively; +could not be still a moment; and was evidently near his +end. His brother, who was with him, exhibited the bitterest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +grief, watching and waiting on him with silent +tenderness and flowing tears. Mr. —— was glad to +find that he was not unprepared to die. He had been a +professor of religion some years, and told him that he +was suffering too much to think on that or any other +subject, but he constantly tried to look to God for mercy. +Mr. —— then recognized him, for the first time, as a +patient who had been in the hospital last spring, and +whose admirable character had then much impressed him. +He was a gallant and brave officer, yet so kind and gentle +to those under his control that his men were deeply attached +to him, and the soldier who nursed him showed +his love by his anxious care of his beloved captain. +After saying to him a few words about Christ and his +free salvation, offering up a fervent prayer in which he +seemed to join, and watching the sad scene for a short +time, Mr. —— left him for the night. The surgeons +apprehended that he would die before morning, and so it +turned out; at the chaplain’s early call there was nothing +in his room but the chilling signal of the empty “hospital +bunk.” He was buried that day, and we trust will be +found among the redeemed in the day of the Lord.</p> +<p>This, it was thought, would be the last of this good +man; but in the dead of night came hurriedly a single +carriage to the gate of the hospital. A lone woman, tall, +straight, and dressed in deep mourning, got out quickly, +and moved rapidly up the steps into the large hall, where, +meeting the guard, she asked anxiously, “Where’s Captain +T.?”</p> +<p>Taken by surprise, the man answered hesitatingly, +“Captain T. is dead, madam, and was buried to-day.”</p> +<p>This terrible announcement was as a thunderbolt at +the very feet of the poor lady, who fell to the floor as +one dead. Starting up, oh, how she made that immense +building ring with her bitter lamentations. Worn down +with apprehension and weary with traveling over a thousand +miles by day and night, without stopping for a +moment’s rest, and wild with grief, she could hear no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +voice of sympathy—she regarded not the presence of one +or many; she told the story of her married life as if she +were alone—how her husband was the best man that ever +lived; how everybody loved him; how kind he was to +all; how devoted to herself; how he loved his children, +took care of, and did everything for them; how, from +her earliest years almost, she had loved him as herself; +how tender he was of her, watching over her in sickness, +never seeming to weary of it, never to be unwilling to +make any sacrifice for her comfort and happiness; how +that, when the telegraph brought the dreadful news that +he was dangerously wounded, she never waited an instant +nor stopped a moment by the way, day nor night, and +now—“I drove as fast as the horses could come from the +depot to this place, and he is dead and buried. I never +shall see his face again. What shall I do? But where +is he buried?”</p> +<p>They told her where.</p> +<p>“I must go there; he must be taken up; I must see +him.”</p> +<p>“But, madam, you can’t see him; he has been buried +some hours.”</p> +<p>“But I must see him; I can’t live without seeing him; +I must hire some one to go and take him up; can’t you +get some one to take him up? I’ll pay him well; just +get some men to take him up. I must take him home; +he must go home with me. The last thing I said to his +children was that they must be good children, and I +would bring their father home, and they are waiting for +him now. He must go, I can’t go without him; I can’t +meet his children without him;” and so, with her woman’s +heart, she could not be turned aside—nothing could alter +her purpose.</p> +<p>The next day she had his body taken up and embalmed. +She watched by it until everything was ready, and then +carried him back to his own house and children, only to +seek a grave for the dead father close by those he loved, +among kindred and friends in the fair sunny land he died +to defend.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +<a name='MRS_HENRIETTA_E_LEES_LETTER_TO_GENERAL_HUNTER_ON_T' id='MRS_HENRIETTA_E_LEES_LETTER_TO_GENERAL_HUNTER_ON_T'></a> +<h3>MRS. HENRIETTA E. LEE’S LETTER TO GENERAL HUNTER ON THE BURNING OF HER HOUSE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 8, pages 215-216.]</p> +<p>The following burning protest against a cruel wrong +deserves to be put on record, as a part of the history of +General David Hunter’s inglorious campaign in the Valley +of Virginia, and we cheerfully comply with the request +of a distinguished friend to publish it. The burning +of this house and those of Col. A. R. Boteler and +Andrew Hunter, esq., in the lower valley, and of Governor +Letcher’s and the Virginia Military Institute at +Lexington give him a place in the annals of infamy only +equaled by the contempt felt for his military achievements:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Jefferson County</span>, <i>July 20, 1864</i>.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>General Hunter</span>:</p> +<p>Yesterday your underling, Captain Martindale, of the +First New York Cavalry, executed your infamous order +and burned my house. You have had the satisfaction ere +this of receiving from him the information that your +orders were fulfilled to the letter; the dwelling and every +out-building, seven in number, with their contents, being +burned. I, therefore, a helpless woman whom you have +cruelly wronged, address you, a Major-General of the +United States army, and demand why this was done? +What was my offence? My husband was absent, an +exile. He had never been a politician or in any way engaged +in the struggle now going on, his age preventing. +This fact your chief of staff, David Strother, could have +told you. The house was built by my father, a Revolutionary +soldier, who served the whole seven years for +your independence. There was I born; there the sacred +dead repose. It was my house and my home, and there +has your niece (Miss Griffith), who has tarried among +us all this horrid war up to the present time, met with all +kindness and hospitality at my hands. Was it for this +that you turned me, my young daughter, and little son +out upon the world without a shelter? Or was it because +my husband is the grandson of the Revolutionary patriot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +and “rebel,” Richard Henry Lee, and the near kinsman +of the noblest of Christian warriors, the greatest of generals, +Robert E. Lee? Heaven’s blessing be upon his +head forever. You and your Government have failed to +conquer, subdue, or match him; and disappointment, +rage, and malice find vent on the helpless and inoffensive.</p> +<p>Hyena-like, you have torn my heart to pieces! for all +hallowed memories clustered around that homestead, and +demon-like, you have done it without even the pretext of +revenge, for I never saw or harmed you. Your office is +not to lead, like a brave man and soldier, your men to +fight in the ranks of war, but your work has been to separate +yourself from all danger, and with your incendiary +band steal unaware upon helpless women and children, to +insult and destroy. Two fair homes did you yesterday +ruthlessly lay in ashes, giving not a moment’s warning to +the startled inmates of your wicked purpose; turning +mothers and children out of doors, you are execrated by +your own men for the cruel work you give them to do.</p> +<p>In the case of Colonel A. R. Boteler, both father and +mother were far away. Any heart but that of Captain +Martindale (and yours) would have been touched by that +little circle, comprising a widowed daughter just risen +from her bed of illness, her three fatherless babies—the +oldest not five years old—and her heroic sister. I repeat, +any man would have been touched at that sight but +Captain Martindale. One might as well hope to find +mercy and feeling in the heart of a wolf bent on his prey +of young lambs, as to search for such qualities in his +bosom. You have chosen well your agent for such +deeds, and doubtless will promote him.</p> +<p>A colonel of the Federal army has stated that you deprived +forty of your officers of their commands because +they refused to carry on your malignant mischief. All +honor to their names for this, at least! They are men; +they have human hearts and blush for such a commander!</p> +<p>I ask who that does not wish infamy and disgrace attached +to him forever would serve under you? Your +name will stand on history’s page as the Hunter of weak +women, and innocent children, the Hunter to destroy defenceless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +villages and refined and beautiful homes—to +torture afresh the agonized hearts of widows; the Hunter +of Africa’s poor sons and daughters, to lure them on +to ruin and death of soul and body; the Hunter with the +relentless heart of a wild beast, the face of a fiend and the +form of a man. Oh, Earth, behold the monster! Can +I say, “God forgive you?” No prayer can be offered +for you. Were it possible for human lips to raise your +name heavenward, angels would thrust the foul thing +back again, and demons claim their own. The curses of +thousands, the scorns of the manly and upright, and the +hatred of the true and honorable, will follow you and +yours through all time, and brand your name infamy! +infamy!</p> +<p>Again, I demand why you have burned my home? +Answer as you must answer before the Searcher of all +hearts, why have you added this cruel, wicked deed to +your many crimes?</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SHERMANS_BUMMERS' id='SHERMANS_BUMMERS'></a> +<h3>SHERMAN’S BUMMERS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[E. J. Hale, Jr.]</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Fayetteville, N. C.</span>, <i>July 31st, 1865</i>.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear General</span>:</p> +<p>It would be impossible to give you an adequate idea of +the destruction of property in this good old town. It +may not be an average instance, but it is one, the force +of whose truth we feel only too fully. My father’s property, +before the war, was easily convertible into about +$85,000 to $100,000 in specie. He has not now a particle +of property which will bring him a dollar of income. +His office, with everything in it, was burned by Sherman’s +order. Slocum, who executed the order, with a +number of other generals, sat on the veranda of a hotel +opposite watching the progress of the flames, while they +hobnobbed over wines stolen from our cellar. A fine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +brick building adjacent, also belonging to my father, was +burned at the same time. The cotton factory, of which +he was a large shareholder, was burned, while his bank, +railroad, and other stocks are worse than worthless, for +the bank stock, at least, may bring him in debt, as the +stockholders are responsible. In fact, he has nothing +left, besides the ruins of his town buildings and a few +town lots which promise to be of little value hereafter, +in this desolated town, and are of no value at present, +save his residence, which (with brother’s house) Sherman +made a great parade of saving from a mob (composed of +corps and division commanders, a nephew of Henry +Ward Beecher, and so on down,) by sending to each +house an officer of his staff, after my brother’s had been +pillaged and my father’s to some extent. By some accidental +good fortune, however, my mother secured a +guard before the “bummers” had made much progress in +the house, and to this circumstance we are indebted for +our daily food, several months’ supply of which my father +had hid the night before he left, in the upper rooms of +the house, and the greater part of which was saved.</p> +<p>You have, doubtless, heard of Sherman’s “bummers.” +The Yankees would have you believe that they were only +the straggling pillagers usually found with all armies. +Several letters written by officers of Sherman’s army, intercepted +near this town, give this the lie. In some of +these letters were descriptions of the whole burning process, +and from them it appears that it was a regularly organized +system, under the authority of General Sherman +himself; that one-fifth of the proceeds fell to General +Sherman, another fifth to the other general officers, +another fifth to the line officers, and the remaining two-fifths +to the enlisted men. There were pure silver bummers, +plated-ware bummers, jewelry bummers, women’s +clothing bummers, provision bummers, and, in fine, a +bummer or bummers for every kind of stealable thing. +No bummer of one specialty interfering with the stealables +of another. A pretty picture of a conquering army, +indeed, but true.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +<a name='REMINISCENCES_OF_THE_WAR_TIMESA_LETTER' id='REMINISCENCES_OF_THE_WAR_TIMESA_LETTER'></a> +<h3>REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR TIMES—A LETTER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[B. Winston, in Confederate Scrap-Book.]</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Signal Hill</span>, <i>February 27th</i>.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear</span> ——:</p> +<p>Your very kind letter received. +I delayed perhaps too long replying. I have hunted up a +few little things. We are so unfortunate as to have +nearly all our war relics burnt in an outhouse, so I have +little left unless I took what I remember. We were left +so bare of everything at that time. Our only pokers and +tongs were pokers and ramrods; old canteens came into +domestic service; we made our shoes of parts of old canvas +tents, and blackened them with elderberry juice (the +only ink we could command was elderberry juice); we +plaited our hats of straw (I have a straw-splinter now, +for which I gave $13; it did good service); the inside +corn-shuck made dainty bonnets; sycamore balls, saturated +with grease, made excellent tapers, though nothing +superseded the time-honored lightwood knots.</p> +<p>The Confederate army was camped around us for +months together. We often had brilliant assemblages +of officers. On one occasion, when all went merry as a +marriage-bell, and uniformed officers and lovely girls +wound in and out in the dance, a sudden stillness fell—few +words, sudden departures. The enemy were in full +force, trying to effect a crossing at a strategic point. We +were left at daybreak in the Federal camp, a sharp engagement +around us—the beginning of the seven days’ +fight around Richmond. It was a bright, warm day in +May. An unusual stillness brooded over everything. A +few officers came and went, looking grave and important. +In a short time, from a dense body of pines near us, +curled the blue smoke, and volley after volley of musketry +succeeded in sharp succession, the sharp, shrill scream of +flying shells falling in the soft green of the growing +wheat. Not long, and each opposing army emerged +from ambush and stood in the battle’s awful array. Our +own forces (mostly North Carolinians) fell back into a +railroad cut. The tide of battle swept past us, but the +day was lost to us. At evening they brought our dead +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +and wounded and made a hospital of our house. Then +came the amputating surgeon to finish what the bullet +had failed to do. Arms and legs lay in a promiscuous +heap on our back piazza.</p> +<p>On another occasion I saw a sudden surprise in front +of our house. A regiment of soldiers, under General +Rosser’s command, were camped around us. It was +high, blazing noon. The soldiers, suspecting nothing, +were in undress, lying down under every available +shadow, when a sudden volley and shout made every man +spring to his feet. The enemy were all around them, +and panic was amongst our men; they were running, but +as they rose a little knoll every man turned, formed, and +fired. I saw some poor fellows fall.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='AUNT_MYRA_AND_THE_HOECAKE' id='AUNT_MYRA_AND_THE_HOECAKE'></a> +<h3>AUNT MYRA AND THE HOE-CAKE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Our Women in the War, pages 419-420.]</p> +<p>Another instance was that of an old lady. Small and +fragile-looking, with soft and gentle manners, it seemed +as if a whiff of wind might have blown her away, and she +was not one who was likely to tempt the torrent of a +ruffian’s wrath. But how often can we judge of appearances, +for in that tiny body was a spirit as strong and +fearless as the bravest in the land. The war had been +a bitter reality to her. One son had been brought home +shattered by a shell, and for long months she had seen him +in the agony which no human tongue can describe; while +another, in the freshness of his young manhood, had been +numbered with the slain. She was a widow, and having +the care of two orphan grandchildren upon her, was experiencing +the same difficulty in obtaining food that we +were. One morning she had made repeated efforts to +get something cooked, but failed as often as she tried, for +just as soon as it was ready to be eaten in walked a Federal +soldier and marched off with it, expostulations or entreaties +availing naught. Finally, after some difficulty, a +little corn meal was found which was mixed with a hoe-cake +and set in the oven to bake. Determined not to lose +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +this, Aunt Myra, the lady in question, took her seat before +the fire and vowed she would not leave the spot until the +bread was safe in her own hands. Scarcely had she done +so when, as usual, a soldier made his appearance, and, +seeing the contents of the oven, took his seat on the opposite +side and coolly waited its baking. I have since +thought what a picture for a painter that would make—upon +one side the old lady with the proud, high-born face +of a true Southern gentlewoman, but, alas! stamped with +the seal of care and sorrow; and upon the other, the man, +strong in his assumed power, both intent upon that one +point of interest, a baking hoe-cake. When it had +reached the desired shade of browning, Aunt Myra +leaned forward to take possession, but ere she could do so +that other hand was before her and she saw it taken from +her. Rising to her feet and drawing her small figure to +its fullest height, the old lady’s pent up feelings burst +forth, and she gave expression to the indignation which +“this last act caused to overflow.”</p> +<p>“You thieving scoundrel!” she cried in her gathering +wrath. “You would take the very last crust from the +orphans’ mouths and doom them to starvation before +your very eyes.”</p> +<p>Then, before the astonished man could recover himself, +with a quick movement she had snatched the bread +back again. Scarcely had she got possession, however, +when a revulsion of feeling took place, and, breaking it in +two, tossed them at him in the scorn which filled her soul +as she said: “But if your heart is hard enough to take it, +then you may have it.”</p> +<p>She threw them with such force that one of the hot +pieces struck him in the face, the other immediately following. +Strange to say, he did not resent her treatment +of him; but it was too much for Aunt Myra’s excited +feelings when he picked up the bread, and commenced +munching upon it in the most unconcerned manner possible. +Again snatching it from him, she flung it far out +of the window, where it lay rolling in dirt, crying as she +did so: “Indeed, you shan’t eat it; if I can’t have it, then +you shan’t.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +<a name='THE_CORN_WOMAN' id='THE_CORN_WOMAN'></a> +<h3>“THE CORN WOMAN”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Our Women in the War, page 276.]</p> +<p>“The corn woman” was a feature of the times. The +men in the counties north of us were mostly farmers, +owning small farms which they worked with the assistance +of the family. Few owned slaves, and they planted +garden crops chiefly. The men were now in the army, +and good soldiers many of them made. During the last +two years, for various reasons, many of the wives of +these soldiers failed in making a crop, and were sent with +papers from the probate judges to the counties south to +get corn. No doubt these were really needy, and they +were supplied abundantly, and then, thinking it an easy +way to make a living, others not needing help came. +They neglected to plant crops, as it was far more easy to +beg all the corn they wanted than to work it. Women +whose husbands were at home, who never had been in +the army, young girls and old women came in droves—all +railroad cars and steamboats were filled with “corn +women.”</p> +<p>They came twenty and thirty together, got off at the +stations and landings for miles, visiting every plantation +and never failing to get their sacks filled and sent to the +depot or river for them. Some had bedticks; one came +to me with a sack over two yards long and one yard wide +that would have held ten bushels of corn, and she had +several like it. They soon became perfect nuisances. +When you objected to giving they abused you; they no +longer brought papers; when we had no corn to spare we +gave them money, which they said they would rather +have. It would save the trouble of toting corn, and they +could buy it at home for the money. I once gave them +twenty-five dollars, all I had in the house at the time. +“Well, this won’t go to buy much corn, but as far as it +do go we’s obliged to you,” were the thanks. I saw a +party of them on a steamboat counting their money. +They had hundreds of dollars and a quantity of corn. +The boats and railroads took them free. I was afterward +told by a railroad official that their husbands and fathers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +met them at the depot and either sold the corn or took it +to the stills and made it into whiskey. They hated the +army and all in it and despised the negro, who returned +the compliment with interest. The very sight of a corn +woman made them and the overseers angry. They regarded +them as they did the army worm.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GENERAL_ATKINS_AT_CHAPEL_HILL' id='GENERAL_ATKINS_AT_CHAPEL_HILL'></a> +<h3>GENERAL ATKINS AT CHAPEL HILL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Last Ninety Days of the War, page 33.]</p> +<p>While the command of General Atkins remained in +Chapel Hill—a period of nearly three weeks—the same +work, with perhaps some mitigation, was going on in +the country round us, and around the city of Raleigh, +which had marked the progress of the Federal armies all +through the South. Planters having large families of +white and black were left without food, forage, cattle, or +change of clothing. Being in camp so long, bedding became +an object with the marauders; and many wealthy +families were stripped of what the industry of years had +accumulated in that line. Much of what was so wantonly +taken was as wantonly destroyed and squandered +among the prostitutes and negroes who haunted the +camps. As to Raleigh, though within the corporate limits, +no plundering of the houses was allowed; yet in the +suburbs and the country the policy of permitting it to its +widest extent was followed.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TWO_SPECIMEN_CASES_OF_DESERTION' id='TWO_SPECIMEN_CASES_OF_DESERTION'></a> +<h3>TWO SPECIMEN CASES OF DESERTION</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Heroes in the Furnace; Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<p>We by no means excuse or palliate desertion to the +enemy, which is universally recognized as one of the +basest crimes known to military law; but most of the desertions +from the Confederate army occurred during +the latter part of the war, and many of them were +brought about by the most heartrending letters from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +home, telling of suffering, and even starving families, and +we cannot class these cases with those who deserted to +join the enemy, or to get rid of the hardships and dangers +of the army. Some most touching cases came +under our observation, but we give only the following incidents +as illustrating many other cases.</p> +<p>A distinguished major-general in the Western army +has given us this incident. A humble man but very gallant +soldier from one of the Gulf States, had enlisted on +the assurance of a wealthy planter that he would see his +young wife and child should not lack for support.</p> +<p>The brave fellow had served his country faithfully, +until one day he received a letter from his wife, saying +that the rich neighbor who had promised to keep her from +want now utterly refused to give or to sell her anything +to eat, unless she would submit to the basest proposals +which he was persistently making her, and that unless he +could come home she saw nothing but starvation before +her and his child. The poor fellow at once applied for a +furlough, and was refused. He then went to the gallant +soldier who is my informant and stated the case in full, +and told him that he must and would go home if he was +shot for it the day he returned. The general told him +while he could not give him a permit, he did not blame +him for his determination.</p> +<p>The next day he was reported “absent without leave,” +and was hurrying to his home. He moved his wife and +child to a place of safety and made provision for their +support. Then returning to the neighborhood of his +home, he caught the miscreant who had tried to pollute +the hearthstone of one who was risking his life for him, +dragged him into the woods, tied him to a tree, and administered +to him a flogging that he did not soon forget. +The brave fellow then hurried back to his regiment, +joined his comrades just as they were going into battle, +and behaved with such conspicuous gallantry as to make +all forget that he had ever, even for a short time, been a +“deserter.”</p> +<p>The other incident which we shall give was related by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +General C. A. Battle, in a speech at Tuscumbia, Ala., and +is as follows:</p> +<p>During the winter of 1862-3 it was my fortune to be +president of one of the courts-martial of the Army of +Northern Virginia. One bleak December morning, while +the snow covered the ground and the winds howled +around our camp, I left my bivouac fire to attend the +session of the court. Winding for miles along uncertain +paths, I at length arrived at the court-ground at Round +Oak church. Day after day it had been our duty to try +the gallant soldiers of that army charged with violations +of military law; but never had I on any previous occasion +been greeted by such anxious spectators as on that +morning awaited the opening of the court. Case after +case was disposed of, and at length the case of “The Confederate +States vs. Edward Cooper” was called; charge, +desertion. A low murmur rose spontaneously from the +battle-scarred spectators as a young artilleryman rose +from the prisoner’s bench, and, in response to the question, +“Guilty or not guilty?” answered, “Not guilty.”</p> +<p>The judge advocate was proceeding to open the prosecution, +when the court, observing that the prisoner was +unattended by counsel, interposed and inquired of the +accused, “Who is your counsel?”</p> +<p>He replied, “I have no counsel.”</p> +<p>Supposing that it was his purpose to represent himself +before the court, the judge-advocate was instructed to +proceed. Every charge and specification against the +prisoner was sustained.</p> +<p>The prisoner was then told to introduce his witnesses.</p> +<p>He replied, “I have no witnesses.”</p> +<p>Astonished at the calmness with which he seemed to be +submitting to what he regarded as inevitable fate, I said +to him, “Have you no defence? Is it possible that you +abandoned your comrades and deserted your colors in the +presence of the enemy without any reason?”</p> +<p>He replied, “There was a reason, but it will not avail +me before a military court.”</p> +<p>I said, “Perhaps you are mistaken; you are charged +with the highest crime known to military law, and it is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +your duty to make known the causes that influenced your +actions.”</p> +<p>For the first time his manly form trembled and his +blue eyes swam in tears. Approaching the president of +the court, he presented a letter, saying, as he did so, +“There, colonel, is what did it.” I opened the letter, +and in a moment my eyes filled with tears.</p> +<p>It was passed from one to another of the court until all +had seen it, and those stern warriors who had passed with +Stonewall Jackson through a hundred battles wept like +little children. Soon as I sufficiently recovered my self-possession, +I read the letter as the prisoner’s defence. It +was in these words:</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear Edward</span>: I have always been proud of you, and since +your connection with the Confederate army I have been prouder of +you than ever before. I would not have you do anything wrong for +the world; but before God, Edward, unless you come home we must +die! Last night I was aroused by little Eddie’s crying. I called +and said, “What’s the matter, Eddie?” and he said, “Oh, mamma, +I’m so hungry!” And Lucy, Edward, your darling Lucy, she never +complains, but she is growing thinner and thinner every day. And +before God, Edward, unless you come home we must die.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Your Mary.</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Turning to the prisoner, I asked, “What did you do +when you received this letter?”</p> +<p>He replied, “I made application for a furlough, and it +was rejected; again I made application, and it was rejected; +and that night, as I wandered backward and +forward in the camp, thinking of my home, with the mild +eyes of Lucy looking up to me, and the burning words of +Mary sinking in my brain, I was no longer the Confederate +soldier, but I was the father of Lucy and the husband +of Mary, and I would have passed those lines if +every gun in the battery had fired upon me. I went to +my home. Mary ran out to meet me, her angel arms embraced +me, and she whispered, ‘O, Edward, I am so happy! +I am so glad you got your furlough!’ She must +have felt me shudder, for she turned pale as death, and, +catching her breath at every word, she said, ‘Have you +come without your furlough? O, Edward, Edward, go +back! go back! Let me and my children go down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +together to the grave, but O, for heaven’s sake, save the +honor of our name! And here I am, gentlemen, not +brought here by military power, but in obedience to the +command of Mary, to abide the sentence of your court.”</p> +<p>Every officer of that court-martial felt the force of the +prisoner’s words. Before them stood, in beatific vision, +the eloquent pleader for the husband’s and father’s +wrongs; but they had been trained by their great leader, +Robert E. Lee, to tread the path of duty though the lightning’s +flash scorched the ground beneath their feet, and +each in his turn pronounced the verdict: “Guilty.” +Fortunately for humanity, fortunately for the Confederacy, +the proceedings of the court were reviewed by the +commanding-general, and upon the record was written:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Headquarters Army of Northern Virginia.</span></p> +<p>The finding of the court is approved. The prisoner is pardoned, +and will report to his company.</p> +<p class='sig2'><span class='smcap'>R. E. Lee</span>, <i>General</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During a subsequent battle, when shot and shell were +falling “like torrents from the mountain cloud,” my attention +was directed to the fact that one of our batteries +was being silenced by the concentrated fire of the enemy. +When I reached the battery every gun but one had been +dismantled, and by it stood a solitary soldier, with the +blood streaming from his side. As he recognized me, +he elevated his voice above the roar of battle, and said, +“General, I have one shell left. Tell me, have I saved the +honor of Mary and Lucy?” I raised my hat. Once +more a Confederate shell went crashing through the +ranks of the enemy, and the hero sank by his gun to rise +no more.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SHERMAN_IN_SOUTH_CAROLINA' id='SHERMAN_IN_SOUTH_CAROLINA'></a> +<h3>SHERMAN IN SOUTH CAROLINA</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Cornelia B. Spencer, in Last Days of the War, pages 29-31.]</p> +<p>A letter dated Charleston, September 14, 1865, written +by Rev. Dr. John Bachman, then pastor of the Lutheran +Church in that city, presents many facts respecting the +devastation and robberies by the enemy in South Carolina. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +So much as relates to the march of Sherman’s army +through parts of the State is here presented:</p> +<p>“When Sherman’s army came sweeping through Carolina, +leaving a broad track of desolation for hundreds of +miles, whose steps were accompanied with fire, and sword, +and blood, reminding us of the tender mercies of the +Duke of Alva, I happened to be at Cash’s Depot, 6 miles +from Cheraw. The owner was a widow, Mrs. Ellerbe, +71 years of age. Her son, Colonel Cash, was absent. I +witnessed the barbarities inflicted on the aged, the widow, +and young and delicate females. Officers, high in command, +were engaged tearing from the ladies their +watches, their ear and wedding rings, the daguerreotypes +of those they loved and cherished. A lady of delicacy +and refinement, a personal friend, was compelled to strip +before them, that they might find concealed watches and +other valuables under her dress. A system of torture +was practiced toward a weak, unarmed, and defenceless +people which, as far as I know and believe, was universal +throughout the whole course of that invading army. +Before they arrived at a plantation, they inquired the +names of the most faithful and trustworthy family servants; +these were immediately seized, pistols were presented +at their heads; with the most terrific curses, they +were threatened to be shot if they did not assist them in +finding buried treasures. If this did not succeed, they +were tied up and cruelly beaten. Several poor creatures +died under the infliction. The last resort was that of +hanging, and the officers and men of the triumphant army +of General Sherman were engaged in erecting gallows and +hanging up these faithful and devoted servants. They +were strung up until life was nearly extinct, when they +were let down, suffered to rest awhile, then threatened +and hung up again. It is not surprising that some should +have been left hanging so long that they were taken down +dead. Coolly and deliberately these hardened men proceeded +on their way, as if they had perpetrated no crime, +and as if the God of heaven would not pursue them with +his vengeance. But it was not alone the poor blacks (to +whom they professed to come as liberators) that were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +thus subjected to torture and death. Gentlemen of high +character, pure and honorable and gray-headed, unconnected +with the military, were dragged from their fields +or beds, and subjected to this process of threats, beating, +and hanging. Along the whole track of Sherman’s army +traces remain of the cruelty and inhumanity practiced on +the aged and the defenceless. Some of those who were +hung up died under the rope, while their cruel murderers +have not only been left unreproached and unhung, but +have been hailed as heroes and patriots.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='OLD_NORTH_STATES_TRIALS' id='OLD_NORTH_STATES_TRIALS'></a> +<h3>OLD NORTH STATE’S TRIALS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Cornelia P. Spencer, in Last Ninety Days of the War, pages 95-97.]</p> +<p>By January, 1865, there was very little room for +“belief” of any sort in the ultimate success of the Confederacy. +All the necessaries of life were scarce, and +were held at fabulous and still increasing prices. The +great freshet of January 10th, which washed low grounds, +carried off fences, bridges, mills, and tore up railroads all +through the central part of the State, at once doubled the +price of corn and flour. Two destructive fires in the +same months, which consumed great quantities of government +stores at Charlotte and at Salisbury, added materially +to the general gloom and depression. The very elements +seemed to have enlisted against us. And soon, with +no great surplus of food from the wants of her home population, +North Carolina found herself called upon to furnish +supplies for two armies. Early in January an urgent +and most pressing appeal was made for Lee’s army; and +the people, most of whom knew not where they would get +bread for their children in three months’ time, responded +nobly, as they had always done to any call for “the soldiers.” +Few were the hearts in any part of the land that +did not thrill at the thought that those who were fighting +for us were in want of food. From a humble cabin on +the hill-side, where the old brown spinning-wheel and the +rude loom were the only breastworks against starvation, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +up through all grades of life, there were none who did +not feel a deep and tender, almost heartbreaking solicitude +for our noble soldiers. For them the last barrel of +flour was divided, the last luxury in homes that had once +abounded cheerfully surrendered. Every available resource +was taxed, every expedient of domestic economy +was put into practice—as, indeed, had been done all +along; but our people went to work even yet with fresh +zeal. I speak now of central North Carolina, where +many families of the highest respectability and refinement +lived for months on corn-bread, sorghum, and peas; +where meat was seldom seen on the table, tea and coffee +never, where dried apples and peaches were a luxury; +where children went barefoot through winter, and ladies +made their own shoes, and wove their own homespuns; +where the carpets were cut up into blankets, and window-curtains +and sheets were torn up for hospital uses; +where the soldiers’ socks were knit day and night, while +for home service clothes were twice turned, and patches +were patched again; and all this continually, and with an +energy and a cheerfulness that may well be called heroic.</p> +<p>There were localities in the State where a few rich +planters boasted of having “never felt the war;” there +were ladies whose wardrobes encouraged the blockade-runners, +and whose tables were still heaped with all the +luxuries they had ever known. There were such doubtless +in every State in the Confederacy. I speak not now +of these, but of the great body of our citizens—the middle +class as to fortune, generally the highest as to cultivation +and intelligence—these were the people who denied +themselves and their little ones, that they might be able +to send relief to the gallant men who lay in the trenches +before Petersburg, and were even then living on crackers +and parched corn.</p> +<p>The fall of Fort Fisher and the occupation of Wilmington, +the failure of the peace commission, and the unchecked +advance of Sherman’s army northward from +Savannah, were the all-absorbing topics of discussion +with our people during the first months of the year 1865. +The tide of war was rolling in upon us. Hitherto our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +privations, heavily as they had borne upon domestic comfort, +had been light in comparison with those of the people +in the States actually invaded by the Federal armies; +but now we were to be qualified to judge, by our own experience, +how far their trials and losses had exceeded +ours. What the fate of our pleasant towns and villages +and of our isolated farm-houses would be we could easily +read by the light of the blazing roof-trees that lit up the +path of the advancing army. General Sherman’s principles +were well known, for they had been carefully laid +down by him in his letter to the Mayor of Atlanta, September, +1864, and had been thoroughly put in practice +by him in his further progress since. To shorten the war +by increasing its severity: this was his plan—simple, and +no doubt to a certain extent effective.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SHERMAN_IN_NORTH_CAROLINA' id='SHERMAN_IN_NORTH_CAROLINA'></a> +<h3>SHERMAN IN NORTH CAROLINA</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Cornelia P. Spencer, in Last Ninety Days of the War, pages 214-215.]</p> +<p>General Sherman’s reputation had preceded him, and +the horror and dismay with which his approach was anticipated +in the country were fully warranted. The town +itself was in a measure defended, so to speak, by General +Schofield’s preoccupation; but in the vicinity and for +twenty miles around the country was most thoroughly +plundered and stripped of food, forage, and private property +of every description. One of the first of General +Sherman’s own acts, after his arrival, was of peculiar +hardship. One of the oldest and most venerable citizens +of the place, with a family of sixteen or eighteen children +and grandchildren, most of them females, was ordered, +on a notice of a few hours, to vacate his house, which of +course was done. The gentleman was nearly 80 years +old, and in very feeble health. The outhouses, fences, +grounds, etc., were destroyed, and the property greatly +damaged during its occupation by the general. Not a +farm-house in the country but was visited and wantonly +robbed. Many were burned, and very many, together +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +with outhouses, were pulled down and hauled into camps +for use. Generally not a live animal, not a morsel of +food of any description was left, and in many instances +not a bed or sheet or change of clothing for man, woman, +or child. It was most heartrending to see daily crowds +of country people, from three score and ten years down +to the unconscious infant carried in its mother’s arms, +coming into the town to beg food and shelter, to ask +alms from those who had despoiled them. Many of these +families lived for days on parched corn, on peas boiled +in water without salt, or scraps picked up about the +camps. The number of carriages, buggies, and wagons +brought in is almost incredible. They kept for their +own use what they wished, and burned or broke up the +rest. General Logan and staff took possession of seven +rooms in the house of John C. Slocumb, esq., the gentleman +of whose statements I avail myself. Every assurance +of protection was given to the family by the quartermaster; +but many indignities were offered to the inmates, +while the house was effectually stripped as any other of +silver plate, watches, wearing apparel, and money. +Trunks and bureaus were broken open and the contents +abstracted. Not a plank or rail or post or paling was +left anywhere upon the grounds, while fruit trees, vines, +and shrubbery were wantonly destroyed. These officers +remained nearly three weeks, occupying the family beds, +and when they left the bed-clothes also departed.</p> +<p>It is very evident that General Sherman entered North +Carolina with the confident expectation of receiving a +welcome from its Union-loving citizens. In Major +Nichol’s “Story of the Great March,” he remarks, on +crossing the line which divides South from North +Carolina:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The conduct of the soldiers is perceptibly changed. I have seen +no evidence of plundering; the men keep their ranks closely; and +more remarkable yet, not a single column of the fire or smoke, +which a few days ago marked the positions of the heads of columns, +can be seen upon the horizon. Our men seem to understand that +they are entering a State which has suffered for its Union sentiment, +and whose inhabitants would gladly embrace the old flag again if +they can have the opportunity, which we mean to give them.</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></div> +<p>But the town meeting and war resolutions of the +people of Fayetteville, the fight in her streets, and Governor +Vance’s proclamation, soon undeceived them, and +their amiable dispositions were speedily corrected and +abandoned.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_VANCES_TRUNKGENERAL_PALMERS_GALLANTRY' id='MRS_VANCES_TRUNKGENERAL_PALMERS_GALLANTRY'></a> +<h3>MRS. VANCE’S TRUNK—GENERAL PALMER’S GALLANTRY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Cornelia B. Spenser, in Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<p>On the road from Statesville a part of the command +was dispatched in the direction of Lincolnton, under General +Palmer. Of this officer the same general account is +given as of General Stoneman, that he exhibited a +courtesy and forbearance which reflected honor on his +uniform, and have given him a just claim to the respect +and gratitude of our western people. The following +pleasant story is a sample of his way of carrying on war +with ladies: Mrs. Vance, the wife of the governor, had +taken refuge, from Raleigh, in Statesville with her children. +On the approach of General Stoneman’s army, +she sent off to Lincolnton, for safety, a large trunk filled +with valuable clothing, silver, etc., and among other +things two thousand dollars in gold, which had been +entrusted to her care by one of the banks. This trunk +was captured on the road by Palmer’s men, who of +course rejoiced exceedingly over this finding of spoil, +more especially as belonging to the rebel General Vance. +Its contents were speedily appropriated and scattered. +But the circumstances coming to General Palmer’s +knowledge, within an hour’s time he had every article +and every cent collected and replaced in the trunk, which +he then immediately sent back under guard to Mrs. +Vance with his compliments. General Palmer was aiming +for Charlotte when he was met by couriers announcing +news of the armistice.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +<a name='THE_EVENTFUL_THIRD_OF_APRIL' id='THE_EVENTFUL_THIRD_OF_APRIL'></a> +<h3>THE EVENTFUL THIRD OF APRIL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Correspondent of New York <i>Herald</i>, Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<p>It was known about this time to the people of Richmond +that the negro troops in the Union army had requested +General Grant to give them the honor of being the first +to enter the fallen capital. The fact gave rise to a fear +that they would unite with the worst class of resident +negroes and burn and sack the city. When, therefore, +the black smoke and lurid flames arose on that eventful +3d of April, caused by the Confederates themselves, the +terror-stricken inhabitants at first thought their fears +were to be realized, but were soon relieved when they saw +the manful fight made by many of the negroes and Union +troops to suppress the flames. At no time did they fear +their own servants; indeed, I was afterwards assured +that the many negroes who filled the streets and welcomed +the Union troops would have resisted any attack +upon the households of their old masters.</p> +<p>The behavior of many of the old family servants was +very marked in the care and great solicitude shown by +them for their masters during this trying period. As an +amusing instance of this, I will tell you this incident:</p> +<p>An old lady had a very bright, good-looking maid servant, +to whom some of the Union officers had shown considerable +attention by taking her out driving. The girl +came in one morning and asked her old mistress if she +would not take a drive with her in the hack which stood +at the door, with her sable escort in waiting. Doubtless +this was done not in a spirit of irony, but really in feeling +for her old mistress.</p> +<p>In another family, on the day the troops entered the +city, when all the males had fled, leaving several young +ladies with their mother alone, “Old Mammy,” the faithful +nurse, was posted at the front door with the baby in +her arms, while the trembling females locked themselves +in an upper room. When the hurrahing, wild Union +troops passed along, many straggled into the house and +asked where the white ladies were.</p> +<p>“Old Mammy” replied: “Dis is de only white lady; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +all de rest ar’ culled ladies,” and she laughed and tossed +up the baby, which seemed to please the soldiers, who +chucked the baby and passed on.</p> +<h4><i>Spartan Richmond Ladies</i></h4> +<p>The ladies of Richmond who bore such an active part +on that terrible 3d of April, many of whom with blackened +faces mounted the tops of their roofs, and with their +faithful servants swept off the flying firebrands as they +were wafted over the city, or bore in their arms the sick +to places of safety, or sent words of comfort to their husbands +and their sons who were battling against the +flames—these were the true women of the South, who +had never given up the hope of final victory until Lee +laid down his sword at Appomattox. They were calm +even in defeat; and though strong men lost their reason +and shed tears in maniacal grief over the destruction of +their beautiful city, yet her noble women still stood unflinching, +facing all dangers with heroism that has never +been equalled since the days of Sparta.</p> +<p>Sauntering along the street, making a few purchases +preparatory to leaving the doomed city, I was suddenly +accosted by a friend, who with trembling voice and terrified +countenance exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Sir, I have just heard that the Petersburg and Weldon +railroad will be cut by the Yankees in a few days. +My daughter, who is in North Carolina, will be made +a prisoner. I will give all I have to get her home.”</p> +<p>I saw the intense anguish of the father, and learning +that he could not get a pass to go through Petersburg, I +said, “Mr. T——, if you will pay my expenses, I will +have your daughter here in two days.”</p> +<p>He overwhelmed me with thanks, crammed my pockets +full of Confederate notes, filled my haversack with +rations for several days, and I left next morning for +Petersburg. The train not being allowed to enter the +city, we had to make a mile or more in a conveyance of +some kind at an exorbitant price. Learning that the +Weldon train ran only at night for fear of the Yankee +batteries, which were alarmingly near, I had time to inspect +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +the city. I found here a marked contrast to Richmond. +As I passed along its streets, viewing the marks +of shot and shell on every side, hearing now and then the +heavy, sullen boom of the enemy’s guns, seeing on every +hand the presence of war, I noticed its business men had, +nevertheless, a calm, determined look. Its streets were +filled with women and children, who seemed to know no +fear, though at any moment a shrieking shell might dash +among them, but each eye would turn in loving confidence +to the Confederate flag which floated over the headquarters +of General Lee, feeling that they were secure as long +as he was there.</p> +<p>That night, when all was quiet and darkness reigned, +with not a light to be seen, our train quietly slipped out +of the city, like a blockade-runner passing the batteries. +The passengers viewed in silence the flashing of the guns +as they were trying to locate the train. It was a moment +of intense excitement, but on we crept, until at last the +captain came along with a lantern and said, “All right!” +and we breathed more freely; but from the proximity of +the batteries, I surmised that it would not be “all right” +many days hence.</p> +<p>Hastening on my journey, I found the young lady, +and telling her she must face the Yankee batteries if she +would see her home, I found her even enthusiastic at the +idea, and we hastily left, though under protest of her +friends.</p> +<p>Returning by the same route—which, indeed, was the +only one now left—we approached to within five miles of +Petersburg and waited for darkness. The lights were +again extinguished, the passengers warned to tuck their +heads low, which in many cases was done by lying flat +on the floor, and then we began the ordeal, moving very +slowly, sometimes halting, at every moment fearing a +shell from the belching batteries, which had heard the +creaking of the train and were “feeling” for our position. +The glare and the boom of the guns, the dead silence +broken only by a sob from some terrified heart, all filled +up a few moments of time never to be forgotten.</p> +<p>But we entered the city safely just as the moon was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +rising, and the next morning I handed my friend his +daughter. A few days after the batteries closed the gap +on the Weldon road, cutting off Petersburg and Richmond +from the South, and compelling General Lee to +prepare for retreat.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_FEDERALS_ENTER_RICHMOND' id='THE_FEDERALS_ENTER_RICHMOND'></a> +<h3>THE FEDERALS ENTER RICHMOND</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember.]</p> +<p>Before the day was over the public buildings were occupied +by the enemy, and the minds of the citizens relieved +from all fear of molestation. The hospitals were +attended to, the ladies being still allowed to nurse and +care for their own wounded; but rations could not be +drawn yet, the obstructions in the James River preventing +the transports from coming up to the city. In a few days +they arrived, and food was issued to those in need. It +had been a matter of pride among the Southerners to +boast that they had never seen a greenback, so the entrance +of the Federal army had thus found them entirely +unprepared with gold and silver currency. People who +had boxes of Confederate money and were wealthy the +day previously looked around in vain for wherewithal to +buy a loaf of bread. Strange exchanges were made on +the street of tea and coffee, flour, and bacon. Those who +were fortunate in having a stock of household necessaries +were generous in the extreme to their less wealthy neighbors, +but the destitution was terrible. The sanitary commission +shops were opened, and commissioners appointed +by the Federals to visit among the people and distribute +orders to draw rations, but to effect this, after receiving +tickets, required so many appeals to different officials, +that decent people gave up the effort. Besides, the musty +cornmeal and strong codfish were not appreciated by fastidious +stomachs; few gently nurtured could relish such +unfamiliar food.</p> +<p>But there was no assimilation between the invaders and +invaded. In the daily newspapers a notice had appeared +that the military bands would play in the beautiful capitol +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +grounds every afternoon, but when the appointed hour +arrived, except the Federal officers, musicians and +soldiers, not a white face was to be seen. The negroes +crowded every bench and path. The next week another +notice was issued that the colored population would not +be admitted; and then the absence of everything and anything +feminine was appalling. The entertainers went +alone to their own entertainment. The third week still +another notice appeared: “Colored nurses were to be +admitted with their white charges,” and lo, each fortunate +white baby received the cherished care of a dozen +finely dressed black ladies, the only drawback being that +in two or three days the music ceased altogether, the +entertainers feeling at last the ingratitude of the subjugated +people.</p> +<p>Despite their courtesy of manner—for, however despotic +the acts, the Federal authorities maintained a respectful +manner—the newcomers made no advance +toward fraternity. They spoke openly and warmly of +their sympathy with the sufferings of the South, but +committed and advocated acts that the hearers could not +recognize as “military necessities.” Bravely-dressed +Federal officers met their former old classmates from +colleges and military institutions and inquired after the +relatives to whose houses they had ever been welcome in +days of yore, expressing a desire to “call and see them;” +while the vacant chairs, rendered vacant by Federal bullets, +stood by the hearth of the widow and bereaved +mother. They could not be made to understand that +their presence was painful. There were but few men in +the city at this time; but the women of the South still +fought their battles for them: fought it resentfully, +calmly, but silently. Clad in their mourning garments, +overcome, but hardly subdued, they sat within their desolate +homes, or if compelled to leave that shelter went on +their errands to church or hospital with veiled faces and +swift steps. By no sign or act did the possessors of their +fair city know that they were even conscious of their +presence. If they looked in their faces they saw them +not; they might have supposed themselves a phantom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +army. There was no stepping aside with affectation to +avoid the contact of dress; no feigned humility in giving +the inside of the walk; they simply totally ignored their +presence.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SOMEBODYS_DARLING' id='SOMEBODYS_DARLING'></a> +<h3>SOMEBODY’S DARLING</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond During the War, pages 152-154.]</p> +<p>Our best and brightest young men were passing away. +Many of them, the most of them, were utter strangers to +us; but the wounded soldier ever found a warm place in +our hearts, and they were strangers no more. A Southern +lady has written some beautiful lines, suggested by +the death of a youthful soldier in one of our hospitals. +So deeply touching is the sentiment, and such the exquisite +pathos of the poetry, that we shall insert them in +our memorial to those sad times. When all sentiment +was well nigh crushed out, which courts the visit of the +nurse, these lines sent a thrill of ecstasy to our hearts, +and comfort and sweetness to the bereaved in many far-off +homes of the South. Of “Somebody’s Darling,” she +writes:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>Into a ward of the whitewashed halls</p> +<p class='indent2'>Where the dead and dying lay;</p> +<p>Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Somebody’s darling was borne one day.</p> +<p>Somebody’s darling so young and so brave,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Wearing yet on his sweet, pale face,</p> +<p>Soon to be laid in the dust of the grave,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The lingering light of his boyhood’s grace.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Matted and damp are the curls of gold,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;</p> +<p>Pale are the lips of delicate mould,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Somebody’s darling is dying now!</p> +<p>Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Brush the wandering waves of gold;</p> +<p>Cross his hands on his bosom now—</p> +<p class='indent2'>Somebody’s darling is still and cold.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Kiss him once, for somebody’s sake,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Murmur a prayer, soft and low.</p> +<p>One bright curl from its fair mates take,</p> +<p class='indent2'>They were somebody’s pride, you know.</p> +<p>Somebody’s hand hath rested there,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Was it a mother’s, soft and white;</p> +<p>Or have the lips of a sister fair</p> +<p class='indent2'>Been baptized in their waves of light?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p> +<p>God knows best! He has somebody’s love,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Somebody’s heart enshrined him there;</p> +<p>Somebody wafted his name above,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Night and morn, on the wings of prayer.</p> +<p>Somebody wept when he marched away,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Looking so handsome, brave and grand!</p> +<p>Somebody’s kiss on his forehead lay,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Somebody clung to his parting hand.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Somebody’s waiting, and watching for him,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Yearning to hold him again to her heart,</p> +<p>And there he lies—with his blue eyes dim,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And his smiling, child-like lips apart!</p> +<p>Tenderly bury the fair young dead,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Pausing to drop o’er his grave a tear;</p> +<p>Carve on the wooden slab at his head,</p> +<p class='indent2'>“‘Somebody’s darling’ is lying here!”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_THEIR_PLUCK' id='CHAPTER_IV_THEIR_PLUCK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV +<span class='chsub'> <br />THEIR PLUCK</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='FEMALE_RECRUITING_OFFICERS' id='FEMALE_RECRUITING_OFFICERS'></a> +<h3>FEMALE RECRUITING OFFICERS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The young women and girls brightly and cordially +cheered every Confederate volunteer. Nothing was too +good for him, and smiles of sisterly esteem and love met +him at every turn. There was a sort of intoxication in +the welcome and applause that everywhere greeted the +young volunteer. To many it was full pay for the sacrifice. +Many an expectant bride sadly but resolutely postponed +marriage, and sent her affianced lover to the +army.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Wouldst thou have me love thee, dearest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>With a woman’s proudest heart,</p> +<p>Which shall ever hold thee nearest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Shrined in its inmost part?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Listen then! My country’s calling</p> +<p class='indent2'>On her sons to meet the foe!</p> +<p>Leave these groves of rose and myrtle;</p> +<p>Like young Koerner, scorn the turtle</p> +<p class='indent2'>When the eagle screams above.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>But there were many young men who did not want +to hear Koerner’s war eagle scream. They wanted a +battle, but they wanted to “smell it afar off.” They believed +in the righteousness of the war more strongly than +anybody. Yes, many of them were the first to don the +blue cockade of the “minute men;” that is, the militia +organized with the avowed object of fighting on a +moment’s warning. They were ever so ready to be +soldiers at home for a “minute,” but held back when it +came to volunteering for six months, a year, or three +years. Then the young women would turn loose their +little tongues, and their jeers and sarcasm would drive +the skulker clear out of their society, and eventually in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +self-defense he would have to “jine the cavalry,” or infantry +one, to get away from the darts of woman’s +tongue. A hornet could not sting like that little tongue.</p> +<p>One of these girls was a lone sister, with many brothers, +in a very wealthy family, which we will call the DeLanceys, +in one of the richest counties of Alabama. A +cavalry company had been organized and drilled for the +war, but not a DeLancey’s name was on the roll. The +company was to leave the home camp for the front. The +whole county gathered to cheer them and bid them good-bye. +Presents and honors were showered upon the +young patriots. The sister mentioned above owned a +very fine favorite horse, named “Starlight,” which she +presented to the company in a touching little speech, +which brought tears to many eyes, and which wound up +with the following apostrophe, “Farewell, Starlight! +I may never see you again; but, thank God, you are the +bravest of the DeLanceys.”</p> +<p>All through the war cowards were between two fires, +that of the Federals at the front and that of the women +in the rear.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_SUSAN_ROY_CARTER' id='MRS_SUSAN_ROY_CARTER'></a> +<h3>MRS. SUSAN ROY CARTER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Thomas Nelson Page.]</p> +<p>Old Mathews and Gloucester, Virginia, as they are +affectionately termed by those who knew them in the old +times, were filled with colonial families and were the +home of a peculiarly refined and aristocratic society. +Miss Roy was the daughter of William H. Roy, esq., +of “Green Plains,” Mathews county, and of Anne Seddon, +a sister of Hon. James A. Seddon, Secretary of War +of the Confederate States. She was a noted beauty and +belle, even in a society that was known throughout Virginia +for its charming and beautiful women. Her loveliness, +radiant girlhood, and early womanhood is still +talked of among the survivors of that time. Old men, +who have seen the whole order of society in which they +spent their youths pass from the scene, still refresh +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +themselves with the memory of her brilliant beauty and +of her gracious charms. She was the centre and idol of +that circle.</p> +<p>In 1855, on November 7th, she gave her hand +and heart to Dr. Thomas H. Carter, esq., of Shirley, +and from that time to the day of her death their life was +one of the ideal unions which justify the saying that +“marriages are made in heaven.” “It has always been +a honeymoon with us,” he used to say. The young +couple almost immediately settled at “Pampatike,” on the +Pamunkey, an old colonial estate. Here Mrs. Carter +lived for thirty-four years, occupied in the duties of mistress +of a great plantation, dispensing that gracious hospitality +which made it noted even in Old Virginia; shedding +the light of a beautiful life on all about her, and exemplifying +in herself the character to which the South +points with pride and affection as a refutation of every +adverse criticism.</p> +<p>Such a plantation was a world in itself, and the life +upon it was such as to entail on the master and mistress +labors and responsibilities such as are not often produced +under any other conditions. In addition to the demands +of hospitality, which were exacting and constant, the +conduct of such a large establishment, with the care of +over one hundred and fifty servants, whose eyes were +ever turned to their mistress, called forth the exercise of +the highest powers from those who felt themselves +answerable to the Great Master of All for the full performance +of their duty. No one ever performed this +duty with more divine devotion than did this young mistress. +She was at once the friend and the servant of +every soul on the place. Mrs. Carter was a fine illustration +of the rare quality of the character formed by such +conditions. In sickness and in health she watched over, +looked after, and cared for all within her province.</p> +<p>It is the boast of the South, and one founded on truth, +that when during the war the men were withdrawn from +the plantations to do their duty on the field, the women +rose to the full measure of every demand, filling often, +under new conditions that would have tried the utmost +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +powers of the men themselves, a place to which only men +had been supposed equal.</p> +<p>When, on the outbreak of war, her husband was +among the first who took the field as a captain of artillery, +Mrs. Carter took charge of the plantation and +during all the stress of that trying period she conducted +it with an ability that would have done honor to a man +of the greatest experience. The Pampatike plantation, +lying not far from West Point, the scene of so many +operations during the war, was within the “debatable +land” that lay between the lines and was alternately swept +by both armies. The position was peculiarly delicate, +and often called for the exercise of rare tact and courage +on the part of the mistress. It was known to the enemy +that her husband was a gallant and rising officer and a +near relative of General Lee, and the plantation was a +marked one.</p> +<p>On one occasion a small party of mounted Federal +troops on a foraging expedition visited the place and +were engaged in looting, when a party of Confederate +cavalry suddenly appeared on the scene, and a brisk little +skirmish took place in the garden and yard. The Federals +were caught by surprise, and getting the worst of +it, broke and retreated across the lawn, with the enemy +close to their heels in hot chase. A Union trooper was +shot from his horse and fell just in front of the house, +but rising, tried to run on. Mrs. Carter, seeing his +danger, rushed out, calling to him to come to her and +she would protect him. Turning, he staggered to her, +but though she sheltered him, his wound was mortal, and +he died at her feet. The surprise and defeat of this party +having been reported at West Point, a stronger force was +sent up to wreak vengeance on the place. But on learning +of Mrs. Carter’s act in rushing out amid the flying +bullets to save this man at the risk of her life, the officer +in command posted a guard, and orders were given that +the place should be henceforth respected.</p> +<p>The hospital service on the Confederate side during the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +war, as wretched as it was, without medicines or surgical +appliances, would have been far more dreadful but for the +devotion with which the Southern women consecrated +themselves to it. Every woman was a nurse if she were +within reach of wounds and sickness. Every house was +a hospital if it was needed; and to their honor be it said +that the principle enunciated by Dr. Dunant, and finally +established in the creation of the Red Cross Society, +found its exemplification here some time before the +Geneva Congress. To them a wounded man of whatever +side was sacred, and to his service they consecrated themselves. +Unhappily, devotion, even as divine as theirs, +could not make up for all.</p> +<p>At the battle of Seven Pines—“Fair Oaks”—Captain +Carter’s battery rendered such efficient service that the +commanding general declared he would rather have commanded +that battery that day than to have been President +of the Confederate States. But the fame of the battery +was won at the expense of about sixty per cent of its +officers and men killed and wounded. The Carter plantation +was within sound of the guns, and Mrs. Carter +immediately constituted herself the nurse of the wounded +men of her husband’s battery. And from this time she +was regarded by them as their guardian angel—an affection +that was extended to her by all of the men of her +husband’s command, as he rose from rank to rank, until +he became a colonel and acting chief of artillery in the +last Valley campaign.</p> +<p>When the war closed nothing remained except the +lands and a few buildings, but the energy of the master +and mistress began from the first to build up the plantation +again. The servants were free; the working force +was broken up and scattered, yet large numbers of them, +including all who were old and infirm, remained on the +place and had to be cared for and fed. To this master +and mistress alike applied all their abilities, with the result +that defeat was turned into success and the place +became known as one of the estates that had survived the +destruction of war.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></div> +<p>Having a family of young children, the best tutors +were secured, and owing largely to the knowledge of the +good influence to which the boys would be subjected under +Mrs. Carter’s roof, many applied to send their boys +to them, and “Pampatike School” soon became known +far beyond the limits of Virginia. Among those who +have testified to the influence upon them of their life at +Pampatike are men now nearing the top of every profession +in many States.</p> +<p>It was at this period that the writer came to know her. +And he can never forget the impression made on him by +her—an impression that time and fuller knowledge of her +only served to deepen. Of commanding and gracious +presence, with a face of rare beauty and loveliness, and +manners, whose charm can never be described, she +might have been noble Brunhilda, softened and made +sweet by the chastening influence of Christianity and unselfish +love. No one that ever saw her could forget her. +It was, indeed, the beautifying influences of a simple +piety and devoted love that guided her life, which +stamped their impress on that noble face. In every relation +of life she was perfect. And the influence of such +a life can never cease. Many besides her children rise +up and call her blessed.</p> +<p>In closing this incomplete sketch of one whose life +illustrated all that was best in life, and admits of justice +in no sketch whatsoever, the writer feels that he cannot +do better than to use the words of him who knew and +loved her best:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Every day an anthem of love and praise swells up from all over +the land to do her honor. Old boys of Pampatike schooling, new +boys of the University, girls and old people, recall her delight to +make them happy and to give them pleasure. It was her greatest +happiness to make others happy; for she was absolutely the most +unselfish and generous being on earth. Her generosity was not +always of abundance, for abundance was not always hers; but a +generosity out of everything that she had.</p> +<p>Her beautiful life has passed away, and is now only a memory, +but a memory fraught and fragrant with all that is sweetest and +loveliest and purest and best in noblest womanhood. Who that ever +saw her can forget her noble and beautiful face, resplendent with +all that was exalted and high-souled, gracious, and kindest to +others—the Master’s index to the heart within!</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +<a name='J_L_M_CURRYS_WOMEN_CONSTITUENTS' id='J_L_M_CURRYS_WOMEN_CONSTITUENTS'></a> +<h3>J. L. M. CURRY’S WOMEN CONSTITUENTS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Hon. J. L. M. Curry had ever since the war with +Mexico been the idol of his district in Alabama, which +kept him steadily in the United States Congress and sent +him to the Confederate House of Representatives. +Toward the latter part of the war in the Congressional +campaign Mr. Curry found an opponent in Mayor +Cruickshank, of Talladega. The latter skilfully played +upon the hardships and hopelessness of the war and in +some of the upper mountain counties considerable opposition +to Mr. Curry was developed. At a gathering of +the mountaineers, largely composed of women, Mr. +Curry was appealing with his usual favor to his people +to continue their efforts to secure the independence of +the Confederacy and not to listen to any suggestion of +submission to the Northern States. About the time his +eloquence reached its highest point, up rose an old woman +and hurled at him what struck him like a thunderbolt:</p> +<p>“I think it time for you to hush all your war talk. +You go yonder to Richmond and sit up there in Congress +and have a good time while our poor boys are being all +killed; and if you are going to do anything it’s time for +you to stop this war.”</p> +<p>In a moment up sprang another mountain woman. +“Go on, Mr. Curry,” said she. “Go on, you are right. +We can never consent to give up our Southern cause. +Don’t listen to what this other woman says. I have +sent five sons to the army. Three of them have fallen on +the battlefield. The other two are at their post in the +Virginia army and they will all stand by Lee to the last. +This woman here hasn’t but two sons and they had to +be conscripted. One of them has deserted and it takes +all of Lewis’s Cavalry to keep the other one in ranks. +Go on, Mr. Curry. We are with you.” And Curry +went on, more edified by this last woman’s speech, said he +afterward, than any speech he ever heard in his life.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +<a name='NORA_MCCARTHY' id='NORA_MCCARTHY'></a> +<h3>NORA MCCARTHY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In The Gray Jacket, pages 26-29.]</p> +<p>Norah McCarthy won by her courage the name of the +“Jennie Deans” of the West. She lived in the interior +of Missouri—a little, pretty, black-eyed girl, with a soul +as huge as a mountain, and a form as frail as a fairy’s, +and the courage and pluck of a buccaneer into the bargain. +Her father was an old man—a secessionist. She +had but a single brother, just growing from boyhood to +youthhood, but sickly and lame. The family had lived +in Kansas during the troubles of ’57, when Norah was a +mere girl of fourteen or thereabouts. But even then her +beauty, wit and devil-may-care spirit were known far +and wide; and many were the stories told along the +border of her sayings and doings. Among other charges +laid at her door it is said that she broke all the hearts of +the young bloods far and wide, and tradition goes even +so far as to assert that, like Bob Acres, she killed a man +once a week, keeping a private church-yard for the purpose +of decently burying her dead. Be this as it may, +she was then, and is now, a dashing, fine-looking, lively +girl, and a prettier heroine than will be found in a novel, +as will be seen if the good-natured reader has a mind to +follow us to the close of this sketch.</p> +<p>Not long after the Federals came into her neighborhood, +and after they had forced her father to take the +oath, which he did partly because he was a very old man, +unable to take the field, and hoped thereby to save the +security of his household, and partly because he could +not help himself; not long after these two important +events in the history of our heroine, a body of men +marched up one evening, while she was on a visit to a +neighbor’s, and arrested her sickly, weak brother, bearing +him off to Leavenworth City, where he was lodged in the +military guard-house.</p> +<p>It was nearly night before Norah reached home. When +she did so, and discovered the outrage which had been +perpetrated, and the grief of her old father, her rage +knew no bounds. Although the mists were falling and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +the night was closing in, dark and dreary, she ordered +her horse to be resaddled, put on a thick surtout, belted a +sash round her waist, and sticking a pair of ivory-handled +pistols in her bosom, started off after the soldiers. The +post was many miles distant. But that she did not regard. +Over hill, through marsh, under cover of the +darkness, she galloped on to the headquarters of the +enemy. At last the call of a sentry brought her to stand, +with a hoarse “Who goes there?”</p> +<p>“No matter,” she replied. “I wish to see Colonel +Prince, your commanding officer, and instantly, too.”</p> +<p>Somewhat awed by the presence of a young female on +horseback at that late hour, and perhaps struck by her +imperious tone of command, the Yankee guard, without +hesitation, conducted her to the fortifications, and thence +to the quarters of the colonel commanding, with whom +she was left alone.</p> +<p>“Well, madam,” said the Federal officer, with bland +politeness, “to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”</p> +<p>“Is this Colonel Prince?” replied the brave girl, +quietly.</p> +<p>“It is, and you are—”</p> +<p>“No matter. I have come here to inquire whether +you have a lad by the name of McCarthy a prisoner?”</p> +<p>“There is such a prisoner.”</p> +<p>“May I ask why he is a prisoner?”</p> +<p>“Certainly! For being suspected of treasonable connection +with the enemy.”</p> +<p>“Treasonable connection with the enemy! Why the +boy is sick and lame. He is, besides, my brother; and +I have come to ask his immediate release.”</p> +<p>The officer opened his eyes; was sorry he could not +comply with the request of so winning a supplicant; and +must “really beg her to desist and leave the fortress.”</p> +<p>“I demand his release,” cried she, in reply.</p> +<p>“That you cannot have. The boy is a rebel and a +traitor, and unless you retire, madam, I shall be forced +to arrest you on a similar suspicion.”</p> +<p>“Suspicion! I am a rebel and a traitor, too, if you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +wish; young McCarthy is my brother, and I don’t leave +this tent until he goes with me. Order his instant release +or,”—here she drew one of the aforesaid ivory +handles out of her bosom and levelled the muzzle of it +directly at him—“I will put an ounce of lead in your +brain before you can call a single sentry to your relief.”</p> +<p>A picture that!</p> +<p>There stood the heroic girl; eyes flashing fire, cheek +glowing with earnest will, lips firmly set with resolution, +and hand outstretched with a loaded pistol ready to send +the contents through the now thoroughly frightened, +startled, aghast soldier, who cowered, like blank paper +before flames, under her burning stare.</p> +<p>“Quick!” she repeated, “order his release, or you die.”</p> +<p>It was too much. Prince could not stand it. He bade +her lower her infernal weapon, for God’s sake, and the +boy should be forthwith liberated.</p> +<p>“Give the order first,” she replied, unmoved.</p> +<p>And the order was given; the lad was brought out; +and drawing his arm in hers, the gallant sister marched +out of the place, with one hand grasping one of his, and +the other holding her trusty ivory handle. She mounted +her horse, bade him get up behind, and rode off, reaching +home without accident before midnight.</p> +<p>Now that is a fact stranger than fiction, which shows +what sort of metal is in our women of the much abused +and traduced nineteenth century.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WOMEN_IN_THE_BATTLE_OF_GAINESVILLE_FLA' id='WOMEN_IN_THE_BATTLE_OF_GAINESVILLE_FLA'></a> +<h3>WOMEN IN THE BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE, FLA.</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Dickinson and His Men, pages 99-100.]</p> +<p>As Captain Dickinson and our brave defenders +charged the enemy through the streets, many of the +ladies could be seen, whose inspiring tones and grateful +plaudits cheered these noble heroes on to deeds of greater +daring. While charging the enemy, near the residence +of Judge Dawkins, Mrs. Dawkins and her lovely sister, +Miss Lydia Taylor, passed from their garden into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +street, and in the excitement of the moment, actuated by +the heroic spirit that ever animated our noble women, +united their voices in repeating the captain’s word of +command. “Charge, charge!” was heard with the +musical rhythm of a benediction from their grateful +hearts.</p> +<p>The enemy, halting, made a stand a few yards below the +entrance to their residence, firing up the street almost +a hailstorm of Minie balls from their Spencer rifles. Apparently +indifferent to their danger, these heroic ladies +stood unmoved, cheering on our gallant soldiers, among +whom were many near and dear to them. Captain Dickinson +earnestly entreated them to return to the house, as +they were in imminent danger of being killed.</p> +<p>Many ladies brought buckets of water for the heated, +famished soldiers who had no time to give even to this +needed refreshment. Through all the desperate fight +not a citizen was hurt. The sweet incense of prayer +arose from hundreds of agonized hearts to the mercy-seat, +in behalf of husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers who +were in the battle.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SHE_WOULD_SEND_TEN_MORE' id='SHE_WOULD_SEND_TEN_MORE'></a> +<h3>“SHE WOULD SEND TEN MORE”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Judge John H. Reagan’s address in 1897.]</p> +<p>To illustrate the character and devotion of the women +of the Confederacy, I will repeat a statement made to me +during the war by Governor Letcher, of Virginia. He +had visited his home in the Shenandoah Valley, and on +his return to the State capitol called at the house of an +old friend who had a large family. He found no one +but the good old mother at home, and inquired about the +balance of the family. She told him that her husband, +her husband’s father and her ten sons were all in the +army. And on his suggestion that she must feel lonesome, +having had a large family with her and now to be +left alone, her answer was that it was very hard, but if +she had ten more sons they should all go to the army. +Can ancient or modern history show a nobler or more +unselfish and patriotic devotion to any cause?</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +<a name='WOMEN_AT_VICKSBURG' id='WOMEN_AT_VICKSBURG'></a> +<h3>WOMEN AT VICKSBURG</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>On first thought it would be expected that women +would be greatly excited when under fire and amid other +scenes of actual war. But almost invariably they exhibited +during our war a calm fearlessness that was +amazing. My girl wife and her war companion, Mrs. +Lieutenant Lockett, of Marion, Ala., a daughter of Alabama’s +noble war governor, A. B. Moore, spent several +months of the spring of 1863 at Vicksburg and its vicinity, +to be near their husbands. They were boarding +in the city the night when Porter’s fleet ran down the +river by the batteries. The cannonading was terrific. I +was with my regiment, the Thirtieth Alabama, some few +miles away. Next morning, as soon as regimental duties +would allow, I hastened to the city. To my astonishment +I found that neither “the girls” nor the ladies of +the city had been at all alarmed. They seemed to look +upon it as a sort of enjoyable episode.</p> +<p>In May we were at Warrenton, 10 miles below the +city, where the two ladies were quartered with old Mr. +Withington and his good wife, in one of the most independent +and comfortable plantation homes in the land. +When our brigade, under command of the brave but ill-fated +Gen. Ed. Tracy, was ordered to Grand Gulf, I +was left under orders to take the ladies to Vicksburg and +send them home out of danger. But before we could +get away from Mr. Withington’s news came that a battle +was raging at Bayou Pierre. I told the ladies that I +could not stay away from my command while it was engaged +in battle and that they would just have to do the +best they could where they were. Their cheeks never +blanched; nor was a protest uttered. After the battle I +hurried back and got them to Vicksburg, hoping to have +them beyond Jackson before Grant’s flanking army could +reach it. The idea of having them shut up in Vicksburg +during a siege was a horror to me. What was my chagrin +when, on reaching the railroad station, I was informed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +by the officials that not another train would be +allowed to go out. There were numbers of officers’ +wives and other women all round the depot, eager to go. +They bore their bitter disappointment even cheerfully. +Their courage and cheerfulness soon took another happy +turn when under orders I passed around to whisper to +them, “Be ready to jump quickly and quietly on a train +which has been provided to carry off soldiers’ wives in a +few minutes.”</p> +<p>Away they went and reached their homes safely, +though we at Vicksburg never learned this until after the +surrender. The siege lasted forty-seven days. Day and +night, not only the entrenchments but the entire city was +exposed to artillery and rifle fire day and night. Many +a man was killed far away from the front lines. Many +a private house was torn by shells from Grant’s rifle +cannon or Porter’s mortar fleet. While the shot and +shell did not fall incessantly at any one point there was +no place they did not reach. I knew several poor fellows +to receive fresh wounds while lying on their cots in the +hospitals.</p> +<p>Porter did not spare the city hospital, although carrying +the yellow flag. In it I had an old college friend, +Capt. Ben Craig, of Alabama, sick with fever, whose wife +and venerable father had remained to nurse him. Just +before one of my visits a thirteen-inch shell came down +through the roof, leaving an ugly hole in the floor within +six inches of poor Craig’s bed. His brave little wife, +(formerly Miss Eliza Tucker, of Milledgeville, Ga.) +never flinched.</p> +<p>A great many families of the city had dug caves in +the soft clay of the Vicksburg hills and could hide in +them in perfect safety. Many did not avail themselves +of this refuge, but bravely remained in their houses and +took chances. Even the cave dwellers had to come out +to cook their food. Nobly did these good women render +whatever attention they could to our sick and wounded. +They were as brave and as calm as the soldiers.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +<a name='MOTHER_TELL_HIM_NOT_TO_COME' id='MOTHER_TELL_HIM_NOT_TO_COME'></a> +<h3>“MOTHER, TELL HIM NOT TO COME”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Major Robert Stiles, in Four Years Under Marse Robert, pages 322-326.]</p> +<p>I sat in the porch, where were also sitting an old +couple, evidently the joint head of the establishment, and +a young woman dressed in black, apparently their daughter, +and, as I soon learned, a soldier’s widow. My coat +was badly torn, and the young woman kindly offering to +mend it I thanked her and, taking it off, handed it to her. +While we were chatting, and groups of men sitting on +the steps and lying about the yard, the door of the house +opened and another young woman appeared. She was +almost beautiful, was plainly but neatly dressed, and had +her hat on. She had evidently been weeping and her +face was deadly pale. Turning to the old woman, as she +came out, she said, cutting her words off short, +“Mother, tell him if he passes here he is no husband of +mine,” and turned again to leave the porch. I rose, and +placing myself directly in front of her, extended my arm +to prevent her escape. She drew back with surprise and +indignation. The men were alert on the instant, and +battle was joined.</p> +<p>“What do you mean, sir?” she cried.</p> +<p>“I mean, madam,” I replied, “that you are sending +your husband word to desert, and that I cannot permit +you to do this in the presence of my men.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! and who asked your permission, sir? +And pray, sir, is he your husband or mine?”</p> +<p>“He is your husband, madam, but these are my soldiers. +They and I belong to the same army with your +husband, and I cannot suffer you, or any one, unchallenged, +to send such a demoralizing message in their +hearing.”</p> +<p>“Army! do you call this mob of retreating cowards an +army? Soldiers! if you are soldiers, why don’t you +stand and fight the savage wolves that are coming upon +us defenceless women and children?”</p> +<p>“We don’t stand and fight, madam, because we are +soldiers, and have to obey orders, but if the enemy should +appear on that hill this moment I think you would find +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +that these men are soldiers, and willing to die in defense +of women and children.”</p> +<p>“Quite a fine speech, sir, but rather cheap to utter, +since you very well know the Yankees are not here, and +won’t be, till you’ve had time to get your precious carcasses +out of the way. Besides, sir, this thing is over, +and has been for some time. The government has now +actually run off, bag and baggage,—the Lord knows +where,—and there is no longer any government or any +country for my husband to owe allegiance to. He does +owe allegiance to me and to his starving children, and if +he doesn’t observe this allegiance now, when I need him, +he need not attempt it hereafter when he wants me.”</p> +<p>The woman was quick as a flash and cold as steel. +She was getting the better of me. She saw it, and, worst +of all, the men saw and felt it, too, and had gathered thick +and pressed up close all round the porch. There must +have been a hundred or more of them, all eagerly listening, +and evidently strongly to the woman’s side. This +would never do. I tried every avenue of approach to +that woman’s heart. It was congealed by suffering, or +else it was encased in adamant. She had parried every +thrust, repelled every advance, and was now standing defiant, +with her arms folded across her breast, rather +courting further attack. I was desperate, and with the +nonchalance of pure desperation—no stroke of genius—I +asked the soldier-question:</p> +<p>“What command does your husband belong to?”</p> +<p>She started a little, and there was a trace of color in +her face as she replied, with a slight tone of pride in her +voice: “He belongs to the Stonewall Brigade, sir.”</p> +<p>I felt, rather than thought it—but, had I really found +her heart? We would see.</p> +<p>“When did he join it?”</p> +<p>A little deeper flush, a little stronger emphasis of +pride.</p> +<p>“He joined in the spring of ’61, sir.”</p> +<p>Yes, I was sure of it now. Her eyes had gazed +straight into mine; her head inclined and her eyelids +drooped a little now, and there was something in her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +face that was not pain and was not fight. So I let myself +out a little, and turning to the men, said:</p> +<p>“Men, if her husband joined the Stonewall Brigade in +’61, and has been in the army ever since, I reckon he’s a +good soldier.”</p> +<p>I turned to look at her. It was all over. Her wifehood +had conquered. She had not been addressed this +time, yet she answered instantly, with head raised high, +face blushing, eyes flashing: “General Lee hasn’t a better +in his army!” As she uttered these words she put +her hand in her bosom, and drawing out a folded paper, +extended it toward me, saying: “If you doubt it, look at +that.”</p> +<p>Before her hand reached mine she drew it back, seeming +to have changed her mind, but I caught her wrist, +and without much resistance possessed myself of the +paper. It had been much thumbed and was much worn. +It was hardly legible, but I made it out. Again I turned +to the men.</p> +<p>“Take off your hats, boys, I want you to hear this with +uncovered heads”—and then I read an endorsement on +an application for furlough, in which General Lee himself +had signed a recommendation of this woman’s husband +for a furlough of special length on account of extraordinary +gallantry in battle.</p> +<p>During the reading of this paper the woman was transfigured, +glorified. No Madonna of old master was ever +more sweetly radiant with all that appeals to what is +best and holiest in man. Her bosom rose and fell with +deep, quiet sighs; her eyes rained gentle, happy tears.</p> +<p>The men felt it all—all. They were all gazing upon +her, but the dross was clean, purified out of them. There +was not, upon any one of their faces, an expression that +would have brought a blush to the cheek of the purest +womanhood on earth. I turned once more to the soldier’s +wife.</p> +<p>“This little paper is your most precious treasure, isn’t +it?”</p> +<p>“It is.”</p> +<p>“And the love of him whose manly courage and devotion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +won this tribute is the best blessing God ever gave +you, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It is.”</p> +<p>“And yet, for the brief ecstasy of one kiss, you would +disgrace this hero-husband of yours, stain all his noble +reputation, and turn this priceless paper to bitterness; +for the rear-guard would hunt him from his own cottage, +in half an hour, a deserter and a coward.”</p> +<p>Not a sound could be heard save her hurried breathing. +The rest of us held our breath. Suddenly, with a gasp +of recovered consciousness, she snatched the paper from +my hand, put it back hurriedly in her bosom, and turning +once more to her mother, said: “Mother, tell him +not to come.”</p> +<p>I stepped aside at once. She left the porch, glided +down the path to the gate, crossed the road, surmounted +the fence with easy grace, climbed the hill, and as she +disappeared in the weedy pathway I caught up my hat +and said:</p> +<p>“Now, men, give her three cheers.”</p> +<p>Such cheers. Oh, God, shall I ever again hear a cheer +which bears a man’s whole soul in it? For the first time +I felt reasonably sure of my battalion. It would follow +anywhere.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='BRAVE_WOMAN_IN_DECATUR_GA' id='BRAVE_WOMAN_IN_DECATUR_GA'></a> +<h3>BRAVE WOMAN IN DECATUR, GA.</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Miss Mary A. H. Gay, in Life in Dixie, pages 127-132.]</p> +<p>Garrad’s Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of several +acres, for headquarters, and soon what appeared to us to +be an immense army train of wagons commenced rolling +into it. In less than two hours our barn was demolished +and converted into tents, which were occupied by privates +and noncommissioned officers, and to the balusters of our +portico and other portions of the house were tied a number +of large ropes, which, the other ends being secured to +the trees and shrubbery, answered as a railing to which at +short intervals apart a number of smaller ropes were tied, +and to these were attached horses and mules, which were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +eating corn and oats out of troughs improvised for the +occasion out of bureau, washstand, and wardrobe drawers. +Men in groups were playing cards on tables of +every size and shape, and whisky and profanity held high +carnival. Thus surrounded, we could but be apprehensive +of danger; and, to assure ourselves of as much +safety as possible, we barricaded the doors and windows, +and arranged to sit up all night; that is, my mother and +myself.</p> +<p>As we sat on a lounge, every chair having been taken +to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps entering +the piazza, and in a moment, loud rapping, which meant +business. Going to the window nearest the door, I removed +the fastenings, raised the sash, and opened the +blinds. Perceiving by the light of a brilliant moon that +at least a half dozen men in uniforms were on the piazza, +I asked: “Who is there?”</p> +<p>“Gentlemen,” was the laconic reply.</p> +<p>“If so, you will not persist in your effort to come into +the house. There is only a widow and one of her daughters, +and two faithful servants in it,” said I.</p> +<p>“We have orders from headquarters to interview Miss +Gay. Is she the daughter of whom you speak?”</p> +<p>“She is, and I am she.”</p> +<p>“Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing you, without intervening +barriers. Our orders are imperative,” said he +who seemed to be the spokesman of the delegation.</p> +<p>“Then wait a moment,” I amiably responded. Going +to my mother, I repeated in substance the above colloquy, +and asked her if she would go with me out of one of the +back doors and around the house into the front yard. +Although greatly agitated and trembling, she readily assented, +and we noiselessly went out. In a few moments +we announced our presence, and our visitors descended +the steps and joined us. And these men, occupying a +belligerent attitude toward ourselves and all that was +dear to us, stood face to face with us and in silence we +contemplated each other. When the silence was broken, +the aforesaid officer introduced himself as Major Campbell, +a member of General Schofield’s staff. He also introduced +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +the accompanying officers each by name and +title. This ceremony over, Major Campbell said:</p> +<p>“Miss Gay, our mission is a painful one, and yet we +will carry it out unless you satisfactorily explain acts reported +to us.”</p> +<p>“What is the nature of those acts?”</p> +<p>“We have been told that it is your proudest boast that +you are a rebel, and that you are ever on duty to aid and +abet in every possible way the wouldbe destroyers of the +United States government. If this be so, we can not permit +you to remain within our lines. Until Atlanta surrenders, +Decatur will be our headquarters, and every consideration +of interest to our cause requires that no one +inimical to it should remain within our boundaries established +by conquest.”</p> +<p>In reply to these charges, I said:</p> +<p>“Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so far as +the charges you mentioned are concerned. If I were a +man, I should be in the foremost ranks of those who are +fighting for rights guaranteed by the Constitution of the +United States. The Southern people have never broken +that compact, nor infringed upon it in any way. They +have never organized mobs to assassinate any portion of +people sharing the privileges granted by that compact. +They have constructed no underground railroads to bring +into our midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, +and to carry off stolen property. They have never +sought to array the subordinate element of the North in +deadly hostility to the controlling element. No class of +the women of the South have ever sought positions at +the North which secured entrance into good households, +and then betrayed the confidence reposed by corrupting +the servants and alienating the relations between the +master and the servant. No class of women in the South +have ever mounted the rostrum and proclaimed falsehoods +against the women of the North—falsehoods +which must have crimsoned with shame the very cheeks +of Beelzebub. No class of the men of the South have +ever tramped over the North with humbugs, extorting +money either through sympathy or credulity, and engaged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +at the same time in the nefarious work of exciting +the subordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine, and +murder. If the South is in rebellion, a well-organized +mob at the North has brought it about. Long years of +patient endurance accomplished nothing. The party +founded on falsehood and hate strengthened and grew to +enormous proportions. And, by the way, mark the +cunning of that party. Finding that the Abolition party +made slow progress and had to work in the dark, it +changed its name and took in new issues, and by a systematic +course of lying in its institutions of learning, from +the lowly school-house to Yale College, and from its pulpits +and rostrums, it inculcated lessons of hate toward the +Southern people, whom it would hurl into the crater of +Vesuvius if endowed with the power. What was left us +to do but to try to relieve that portion of the country +which had permitted this sentiment of hate to predominate +of all connection with us, and of all responsibility for +the sins of which it proclaimed us guilty? This effort the +South has made, and I have aided and abetted in every +possible manner, and will continue to do so as long as +there is an armed man in the Southern ranks. If this is +sufficient cause to expel me from my home, I await your +orders. I have no favors to ask.”</p> +<p>Imagine my astonishment, admiration, and gratitude +when that group of Federal officers with unanimity said:</p> +<p>“I glory in your spunk, and am proud of you as my +countrywoman; and so far from banishing you from +your home, we will vote for your retention within our +lines.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GIVING_WARNING_TO_MOSBY' id='GIVING_WARNING_TO_MOSBY'></a> +<h3>GIVING WARNING TO MOSBY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From original manuscript, now in the Confederate Museum.]</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear Friend</span>: * * * Soon after the Yankees +went into winter quarters in Warrenton, I was requested +by a soldier friend to avail myself of every opportunity +to obtain and transmit information that might be of service +to our scouts and guerrillas, and this of course I was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +most willing to do. Our house was at that time within +the lines in the day time, and beyond them at night. I +walked up to Warrenton one bright but very cold morning, +(the 22d of December) and as soon as I arrived was +informed by a lady friend, who was also on the lookout, +that she had just seen a negro, who looked like a newcomer, +escorted by several officers to the provost marshal’s +office. I immediately concluded that he was bearer +of some tidings, most probably from “Mosby’s Confederacy,” +and that I must know what it might be, but how +could I accomplish it? A sentinel was placed always +before the office. I had my purse with me. I fell into +conversation with him. I offered him so much to let me +pass into the basement of the house on pretense of wishing +to transact some business with the negroes who occupied +it. He accepted it, and I went—not into the room +which the negroes occupied, but into the one adjoining +it—a place very damp and dark, where I could hear, but +not be seen, and suiting my purpose admirably, as it +was immediately under the office. I listened; heard the +negro questioned and heard him answer that he could +and would guide a force to Mosby’s headquarters, to the +houses where he knew many of his men boarded, to the +place where the command had stored a quantity of corn. +About the corn they seemed to care little, but oh! to catch +Mosby,—they waxed warm at the thought—they talked +long and loudly (all for my convenience, no doubt) and +the result of the consultation was a plan to go “riding on +a raid” with the “reliable contraband” acting as guide—to +go that very night if certain reinforcements arrived in +time, or should they fail to do so, the next night. I had +heard enough. I came out of my cell, walked through +town to a picket post, with the remaining contents of my +purse bribed the faithful soldier of the Union to let me +pass, then walked two miles to a neighbor’s where I +thought I could get a horse, which was most gladly +furnished me when my errand was made known. +By this time it was late in the afternoon; it +had been turning colder all day, and was now +intensely cold with a blustering wind, the sky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +covered with moving masses of black clouds. My +friends wrapped me up as best they could. I mounted +and rode three miles to a neighbor’s house, where I took +a little boy up behind me for escort. My object now was +to ride in what seemed the right direction until I met +some Southern soldier to whom I could impart the information +I gathered, and commission him to convey it +to those whom it most nearly concerned. I rode on for +miles—the country becoming entirely new to me—the +cold increasing—the darkness deepening—the wind rising +higher and higher. Mosby’s men were always hanging +about the outposts of the enemy. Why was it that I +could not meet one of them? Did they think the night +too terrible to be out? Oh! how I ached with cold, and +when I thoughtlessly said as much, my gallant little +escort, who was not less so, I am sure, begged that he +might be allowed to take off his overcoat and put it +around me. Suddenly, just before me, I saw a large +fire—the temptation was too great—I forgot that its +light might reveal me to those whom the darkness hid, +drew the reins—old Kitty Grey stood still, and I stretched +out my hands toward the genial warmth. I then discovered +that I was near the “View Tree” to reach which, +though only four miles from Warrenton, I had traveled +eight or ten. The fire, thought I to myself, was built by +some Southern scouts, but they left it as I came on lest +it should endanger them. The thought aroused me. I +started on, but had scarcely done so when the moon came +out, and almost immediately Walter called my attention +to a body of men on my right, in the form of a V, each +with his carbine levelled, and moving slowly toward me: +I expected them to fire any moment, but I neither quickened +nor slackened my pace. The moon went under a +cloud and I passed into the sheltering darkness, wondering +much why they did not fire. My curiosity on that +point was afterwards satisfied. On I rode. It was not +long before I saw a single horseman with his raised +weapon just in front of me.</p> +<p>“Halt,” he said.</p> +<p>Boldness alone I believed could save me. The cold +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +wind made my voice hoarse; stern purpose made it +strong. I tell you I was astonished at the manliness of +its tone, as lifting my arm I said, “Surrender or I’ll blow +your brains out.”</p> +<p>I only knew that a moment afterwards I heard his +horse’s retreating hoofs clattering on the stony road. +Now surely, thought I, I am safe; surely the last picket +is passed, and my spirits rose. Soon after this, deceived +by the darkness and my ignorance of the mountain ways, +I lost my direction and took a wrong road; but believing +myself right and at last out of danger, I moved on as fast +as I could over the rough, frozen ground, when on reaching +the top of the hill, what was my amazement and horror +on finding that instead of proceeding I was retracing +my steps, though by a different route. I saw distinctly, +perhaps three miles off, the lights of the town of Warrenton. +And this was all that I had accomplished after +riding at least twelve miles. What should I do? Was +I to fail altogether of my mission? To keep going +toward Warrenton would inevitably lead me to the +Yankees. If I turned and lost my way entirely, what +would become of me on such a night? Just then there +came into my mind those sweet quaint lines which I did +not know that I could repeat:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“God shall charge his angel legions</p> +<p class='indent2'>Watch and ward o’er thee to keep,</p> +<p>Tho’ thou walk thro’ hostile regions,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Tho’ in desert wilds thou sleep.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>They were to me then an inspiration—a harbinger of +safety and success. It would have been still further inspiration, +could I have seen how just at the time, dear old +Mrs. ——, who had helped to wrap me up when I +started, and had encouraged me by her sympathy and interest, +was watching for my return, keeping up a big +fire—warming some of her own clothes for me; and +when at last she laid down, it was with her lamp still +burning, a pillow arranged for me close by her kind heart, +and with a prayer for me on her lips, that she slept. God +bless her!</p> +<p>Turning my back to the lights once more, I rode on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +I had only gone a few hundred yards when I saw just +before me a horse and his dismounted rider. The man +stepped out, laid his hand on my bridle and said: “Stop, +lady, you can go no further; but where are you going?”</p> +<p>I answered in the very tone of candor: “I was trying +to go to the neighborhood of Salem to see a sick friend. +It was later than I thought when I set off. My poor old +borrowed horse traveled very slowly; night overtook +me suddenly and I determined to make my way back to +my home near Warrenton, but have lost my way.”</p> +<p>He then said: “It is my painful duty to take you to the +reserves, where you will be detained all night and taken +to headquarters in the morning.”</p> +<p>I replied: “You can shoot me on the spot, but I will not +spend this night unprotected among your soldiers. I cannot +consent that you should perform your duty.”</p> +<p>“Nor am I willing to perform it!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>After a few moments’ hesitation, which seemed to me +a century, he pointed out to me a light at some distance +and said, “Go to that house; no one will be so cruel as +to turn you away on such a night.”</p> +<p>I turned into what I thought the right path, but presently +he called out to me in a tone of earnest entreaty: +“Not that way, for God’s sake; that leads to the reserves.”</p> +<p>He then came to me, and leading my horse into the +right path said: “Good-by, I shall be three hours on +picket to think of a freezing lady.”</p> +<p>Keeping the light in my eye, I soon reached the house, +which was not far off, and although the inmates evidently +looked upon me with suspicion, they agreed to let me stay +all night and let me feed my horse. I gave them an assumed +name, asked to go to bed immediately, had a hot +brick put to my feet and plenty of cover; but I was too +thoroughly cold to be warmed easily, so I lay and shivered +and wept the live-long night.</p> +<p>Next morning six Yankees, just off post, rode up to the +house. At first I feared the kind picket had proved as +treacherous as the rest, had informed on me, and that +they had come to arrest me. I hurried down to meet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +them and was not a little relieved to find that they only +wanted to buy milk and eggs. There was a captain +among them.</p> +<p>“We had an alarm last night,” said he to me.</p> +<p>“Ah! how was it?”</p> +<p>“Why, the rebels wanted to attack our soldiers and they +thought to fool us by sending one man on ahead as if he +were alone, thinking we would all fire on him and not be +ready for the rest when they came up; but we were too +sharp for them, did not fire at all and the rascals were +afraid to try it.”</p> +<p>Ah! what mistakes we sometimes make! I learned +from them by a little judicious questioning that no raiding +party had passed up during the night, and hoped that +I might still be in time.</p> +<p>After they left I found that the mistress of the house +was a true Southern woman. I told her my real name +and my errand; she went with me to a house in the mountains, +where were some of Mosby’s men. We also met +several on the way. I entreated them to give due notice +and then joyfully turned my face homewards. Gentle, +faithful, old Kitty Grey stood me in good stead upon +more than one occasion, but the Yankees have since stolen +her, too. I soon returned her to her owners and had +nothing to do but get through the lines to our house. +This I accomplished without difficulty, and when I got in +sight of the camp, just about sundown, I saw every preparation +making for a raid—the raid which was to catch +Mosby and his men. I had the satisfaction to learn in +a few days that it met with very poor success. Not a +few soldiers have since told me that the warning saved +them from capture. Several were in bed when they received +it. One had not left his boarding-house twenty +minutes when it was surrounded by the enemy. They +preferred one night in the mountains of Virginia to a +winter in a Yankee dungeon. Am I not more than repaid +by their thanks?</p> +<p>A few days after this, during Christmas, some friends +in the neighborhood came through the lines to spend the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +day and night with us. To show you how difficult it was +to overcome a Yankee sentinel’s stern sense of duty, I +must tell you that one of the young ladies of the party +bribed the incumbent of the post on this occasion to let +them all pass for the small consideration of two ginger-cakes +and one turn-over pie.</p> +<p>Between 11 and 12 that night, as we girls were undressing +and chatting around the fire, we heard a gentle +tapping on the window below, and immediately mother +came up and whispering as softly and mysteriously as if +she feared the walls, which they so closely watched, or +the winds, that whistled so keenly around the corners of +the house, and also their ears might repeat her words to +the pickets, informed me that Colonel Mosby and a few +of his men were in the yard and wished to see me. I put +on the first dress I came to and crept down noiselessly, +lest I should arouse our spy of a guard. The colonel +wanted to know the exact position of the pickets and +videttes. I told him as well as I could, and in order to +give him a more correct idea, I offered to go with any of +them whom he might select to a certain hill, where I could +point out their positions more definitely. Capt. Wm. R. +Smith begged leave to go with me. He led his horse and +we walked along, talking in a low tone. There was a +full moon, but she wore a veil of fleecy clouds.</p> +<p>When we had gone about two hundred yards, very unexpectedly +there rode out from behind a tree a Yankee +picket.</p> +<p>“Halt,” he cried.</p> +<p>It was but the work of an instant for Captain Smith to +spring on his horse, and with an effort of his strong arm, +“Light to the croup the fair lady he swung.” The next +instant a bullet seemed to graze our ears; in quick succession +six bullets came, but they soon fell far behind us. +We heard the whole line take up the alarm. As we flew +along, Captain Smith said, very calmly, “A little romance +for you.” We soon reached our reserve and after some +further conversation, bade one another goodnight—they +going forth to meet other adventures and I to my friends, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +who having heard the firing, were awaiting my return +somewhat anxiously. When I took off the dress I had +worn, I discovered a very jagged rent, evidently made by +the spur of a cavalier. Brave, brave Captain Smith! +soon he gave his young life to our cause.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='AINT_YOU_ASHAMED_OF_YOUUNS' id='AINT_YOU_ASHAMED_OF_YOUUNS'></a> +<h3>“AIN’T YOU ASHAMED OF YOU’UNS?”</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Phoebe Y. Pember.]</p> +<p>Directly in front of me sat an old Georgia up-country +woman, placidly regarding the box cars full of men on +the parallel rails, waiting, like ourselves, to start. She +knitted and gazed, and at last inquired “who was them +ar’ soldiers, and whar’ was they a-going to?” The information +that they were Yankee prisoners startled her +considerably. The knitting ceased abruptly (all the old +women in the Southern States knitted socks for the soldiers +while traveling), and the cracker bonnet of dark +brown homespun was thrown back violently, for her +whole nervous system seemed to have received a galvanic +shock. Then she caught her breath with a long gasp, +lifted on high her thin, trembling hand, accompanied by +the trembling voice, and made a speech:</p> +<p>“Ain’t you ashamed of you’uns,” she piped. “A-coming +down here a-spiling our country, and a-robbing our +hen-roosts? What did we ever do to you’uns that you +should come a-killing our brothers and sons? Ain’t you +ashamed of you’uns? What for do you want us to live +with you’uns, you poor white trash? I ain’t got a single +nigger that would be so mean as to force himself where +he warn’t wanted, and what do we-uns want with you? +Ain’t you—” but there came a roar of laughter from both +cars, and, shaking with excitement, the old lady pulled +down her spectacles, which in the excitement she had +pushed up on her forehead, and tried in vain to resume +her labors with uncertain fingers.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +<a name='FALSE_TEETH' id='FALSE_TEETH'></a> +<h3>FALSE TEETH</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond During the War, pages 165-166.]</p> +<p>In connection with the battle of the Cross Keys, we +are just here reminded of an amusing stratagem of a +rebel lady to conceal her age and charms from the enemy, +who held possession of her house. She says: “Mr. K., +you know, was compelled to evacuate his premises when +the Federals took possession, and succeeding in making +good their escape, left me here, with my three children, +to encounter the consequences of their intrusion upon +my premises. Not wishing to appear quite as youthful +as I really am, and desiring to destroy, if possible, any +remains of my former beauty, I took from my mouth a +set of false teeth, (which I was compelled to have put in +before I was 20 years old,) tied a handkerchief around +my head, donned my most sloven apparel, and in every +way made myself as hideous as possible. The disguise +was perfect. I was sullen, morose, sententious. You +could not have believed I could so long have kept up a +manner so disagreeable; but it had the desired effect. +The Yankees called me ‘old woman.’ They took little +thought I was not 30 years of age. They took my house +for a hospital for their sick and wounded, and allowed +me only the use of a single room, and required of me +many acts of assistance in nursing their men, which under +any circumstances my own heart-promptings would have +made a pleasure to me. But I did not feel disposed to +be compelled to prepare food for those who had driven +from me my husband, and afterwards robbed me of all +my food and bed-furniture, with the exception of what +they allowed me to have in my room. But they were not +insulting in their language to the ‘old woman,’ and I +endured all the inconveniences and unhappiness of my +situation with as much fortitude as I could bring into +operation, feeling that my dear husband, at least, was +safe from harm. After they left,” she continued, “I was +forced to go into the woods, near by, and with my two +little boys pick up fagots to cook the scanty food left to +me.” This is the story of one of the most luxuriously +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +reared women of Virginia, and is scarcely the faintest +shadow of what many endured under similar circumstances.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='EMMA_SANSOM' id='EMMA_SANSOM'></a> +<h3>EMMA SANSOM</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Gen. T. Jordan and J. P. Pryor, in Campaigns of General Forrest, pages +267-270.]</p> +<p>The Federal column under Colonel Streight was again +overtaken by 10 A. M., on the 2d; and the Confederate +general selected fifty of the best mounted men, with +whom his escort charged swiftly upon its rear in the face +of a hot fire. For ten miles now, to Black Creek, an +affluent of the Coosa, a sharp, running conflict occurred. +The Federals, however, effected the passage of the stream +without hindrance, by a bridge, which, being old and +very dry, was in flames and impassable as the Confederates +approached; besides which it was commanded by +Streight’s artillery, planted on the opposite bank. Black +Creek is deep and rapid, and its passage in the immediate +presence of the Federal force was an impossibility before +which even Forrest was forced to pause and ponder. +But while reflecting upon the predicament, he was approached +by a group of women, one of whom, a tall, +comely girl of about 18 years of age, stepped forward +and inquired, “Whose command?”</p> +<p>The answer was, “The advance of General Forrest’s +cavalry.”</p> +<p>She then requested that General Forrest should be +pointed out, which being done, advancing, she addressed +him nearly in these words:</p> +<p>“You are General Forrest, I am told. I know of an +old ford to which I could guide you, if I had a horse. +The Yankees have taken all of ours.”</p> +<p>Her mother, stepping up, exclaimed:</p> +<p>“No, Emma; people would talk about you.”</p> +<p>“I am not afraid to trust myself with as brave a man +as General Forrest, and don’t care for people’s talk,” was +the prompt rejoinder of this Southern girl, her face +illuminated with emotion.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></div> +<p>The general then remarked, as he rode beside a log +nearby: “Well, Miss ——, jump up behind me.”</p> +<p>Quickly or without an instant of hesitation, she sprang +from the log behind the redoubtable cavalry leader, and +sat ready to guide him—under as noble an inspiration of +unalloyed, courageous patriotism as that which has rendered +the Maid of Zaragossa famous for all time. +Calling for a courier to follow, guided by Miss Sansom, +Forrest rode rapidly, leaping over fallen timber, to a +point about half a mile above the bridge, where, at the +foot of a ravine, she said there was a practicable ford. +There, dismounting, they walked to the river-bank, opposite +to which, on the other side, were found posted a +Federal detachment, who opened upon both immediately +with some forty small arms, the balls of which whistled +close by, and tore up the ground in their front as they +approached. Inquiring naively what caused the noise, +and being answered that it was the sound of bullets, the +intrepid girl stepped in front of her companion, saying, +“General, stand behind me; they will not dare shoot me.” +Gently putting her aside, Forrest observed he could not +possibly suffer her to do so, or to make a breastwork of +herself, and gave her his arm so as to screen her as much +as possible. By this time they had reached the ravine. +Placing her behind the shelter afforded by the roots of a +fallen tree, he asked Miss Sansom to remain there until +he could reconnoitre the ford, and proceeded at once to +descend the ravine on his hands and knees. After having +gone some fifty yards in this manner, looking back, to +his surprise and regret, she was immediately at his back; +and in reply to his remark that he had told her to remain +under shelter, replied: “Yes, General, but I was fearful +that you might be wounded; and it is my purpose to be +near you.”</p> +<p>The ford-mouth reached and examined, they then returned +as they came, through the ravine, to the crown of +the bank, under fire, when she took his arm as before—an +open mark for the Federal sharpshooters, whose fire +for some instants was even heavier than at first; and +several of their balls actually passed through her skirts, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +exciting the observation, “They have only wounded my +crinoline.” At the same time, withdrawing her arm, the +dauntless girl, turning round, faced the enemy, and waved +her sun-bonnet defiantly and repeatedly in the air. We +are pleased to be able to record that, at this, the hostile +fire was stopped; the Federals took off their own caps, +and, waving them, gave three hearty cheers of approbation. +Remounting, Forrest and Miss Sansom returned +to the command, who received her with unfeigned enthusiasm.</p> +<p>The artillery was sent forward, and with a few shells, +well thrown, quickly drove away the Federal guard at +the ford, which Major McLemore was directed to seize +with his regiment. The stream was boggy, with high, +declivitous banks on both sides, and it was necessary to +take the ammunition from the caissons by hand, and to +force the animals down the steep slopes, and to take the +ford, but, nevertheless, the passage was successfully effected +in less than two hours. Meantime, the Confederate +general delivered his fair, daring young guide back +safely into the hands of her mother, took a knightly farewell, +inspired by the romantic coloring of the occurrence, +and dashed after his command to resume the chase, as +soon as the passage of the creek was effected.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='PRESIDENT_ROOSEVELTS_MOTHER_AND_GRANDMOTHER' id='PRESIDENT_ROOSEVELTS_MOTHER_AND_GRANDMOTHER'></a> +<h3>PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT’S MOTHER AND GRANDMOTHER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The story has often been told of Mrs. Roosevelt, formerly +Miss Bulloch, of Georgia, and mother of President +Roosevelt, that early in the war between the States, when +a regiment of Federal soldiers was marching past her +residence in New York, she displayed a Confederate flag +at her window and refused to take it down when ordered +to do so.</p> +<p>In October, 1905, a similar story was told by the +Philadelphia correspondent of the Richmond <i>Times-Dispatch</i> +that Mrs. Bulloch, the grandmother of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +President, at some period of the war did the same thing +in that city. The author of this volume was about to +insert both incidents when a moment’s reflection caused +him to hesitate. He remembered that both the ladies +mentioned were typical Southern women, of one of the +best and most knightly families. The stories lack +<i>vraisemblance</i>. Whatever may have been their sympathies +during the war between the States, such a needless +display as that indicated in the stories does not sound +like the Bullochs of Georgia. Southern women were not +given to showing their patriotism by waving flags. It +is rather too cheap. Southern women of the best type, +while members of Northern families or guests of Northern +friends, during the war, would not volunteer to +flaunt before the public a family division of political +sentiment under such sad circumstances. In addition to +this, the author has too much regard for the sanctity of +home, be it ever so humble or so highly exalted, to enter +its portals for a striking story without knocking for admission. +Under the circumstances he felt it due to consult +our magnanimous President himself as to the +authenticity of either or both incidents. President +Roosevelt kindly forwarded the following reply:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='center'>“<span class='smcap'>The White House</span>,<br /> +<span class='smcap'>Washington, D. C.</span>, <i>Nov. 20, 1905</i>.<br /> +Personal.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear Sir</span>: It is always a pleasure to hear from +an old Confederate soldier, and I thank you for your +letter and for the kind way in which you speak of me; +but that incident about my mother never took place. +This is the first time I ever heard the story about my +grandmother and I am sure it is equally without basis. +My grandmother was very infirm during the war and I +do not believe she ever lived at Philadelphia. She was +with us in New York.</p> +<p class='sig1'>Sincerely yours, + <span class='smcap'>Theodore Roosevelt.</span></p> +<p class='sig2'><span class='smcap'>Rev. J. L. Underwood</span>, + <i>Kellam’s Hospital, Richmond, Va.</i>”</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></div> +<p>Elsewhere in this volume it is shown that John G. +Whittier’s famous story of Barbara Freitchie and the +Federal flag is a myth, pure and simple. This letter of +the President consigns the two stories above mentioned to +a similar fate. The Southern people will thank him for +it. They desire nothing but simple truth about their +honored President and his family.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_LITTLE_GIRL_AT_CHANCELLORSVILLE' id='THE_LITTLE_GIRL_AT_CHANCELLORSVILLE'></a> +<h3>THE LITTLE GIRL AT CHANCELLORSVILLE</h3> +</div> +<p>General Fitz Hugh Lee loved to tell of the little girl in +the house where Stonewall Jackson breathed his last, +who said to her mother that she “wished that God would +let her die instead of the general, for then only her +mother would cry; but if Jackson died all the people of +the country would cry.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SAVED_HER_HAMS' id='SAVED_HER_HAMS'></a> +<h3>SAVED HER HAMS</h3> +</div> +<p>In Mississippi a farmer’s wife heard that a regiment +of Federal cavalry was coming. She had a smoke-house +full of fine hams and shoulder meat. Immediately she +went to work, and when the soldiers came they found +the meat lying all about the yard with a knife hole stuck +deep into each piece. The Yankees rushed in and began +to pick it up.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with this meat, madam? How +came these holes in it?”</p> +<p>“Now, look here,” said she, “you know the Confederate +cavalry has just been here, and if you all get poisoned +by that meat you must not blame me.”</p> +<p>They left the meat.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +<a name='HEROISM_OF_A_WIDOW' id='HEROISM_OF_A_WIDOW'></a> +<h3>HEROISM OF A WIDOW</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. Allie McPeek, in Southern Historical Papers, Volume 23, page 328; from +the Atlanta (Ga.) <i>Constitution</i>, November 9, 1905.]</p> +<p>It was on the first and second days of September, 1864, +General Hardee of the Southern forces was sent to Jonesboro +from Atlanta with 22,000 men to head off a formidable +flank movement of the enemy, which had for its +purpose to cut off Southern communication and thereby +compel the evacuation of the city of Atlanta. The flank +movement consisted of 40,000 men, and was commanded +chiefly by Major-General John M. Schofield, together +with General Sedgwick, who was also a corps commander, +and consisted of the best fighters of the Federal +army.</p> +<p>As the two armies confronted each other two miles to +the north and northwest of Jonesboro, it so happened +that the little house and farm of a poor old widow was +just between the two lines of battle when the conflict +opened, and, having nowhere to go, she was necessarily +caught between the fire of the two commanding lines of +battle, which was at comparatively close range and doing +fierce and deadly work. The house and home of this old +lady was soon converted into a Federal hospital, and +with the varying fortunes she was alternately within the +lines of each contending army, when not between them +on disputed ground.</p> +<p>During the whole of this eventful day this good and +brave woman, exposed as she was to the incessant showers +of shot and shell from both sides, moved fearlessly +about among the wounded and dying of both sides alike, +and without making the slightest distinction. Finally +night closed the scene with General Schofield’s army +corps in possession of the ground, and when the morning +dawned it found this grand old lady still at her post +of duty, knowing, too, as she did, the fortunes, or rather +misfortunes, of war had stripped her of the last vestige +of property she had except her little tract of land which +had been laid waste. Now it was that General John M. +Schofield, having known her suffering and destitute condition, +sent her, under escort and arms, a large wagon-load +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +of provisions and supplies, and caused his adjutant-general +to write her a long and touching letter of thanks, +and wound up the letter with a special request that she +keep it until the war was over and present it to the United +States government, and they would repay all her losses.</p> +<p>She kept the letter, and soon after the Southern Claims +Commission was established she brought it to the writer, +who presented her claim in due form, and she was +awarded about $600—all she claimed, but not being all +she lost. The letter is now on file with other proofs of +the exact truth of this statement with the files of the +Southern Claims Commission at Washington. Her +name was Allie McPeek, and she died several years ago.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WINCHESTER_WOMEN' id='WINCHESTER_WOMEN'></a> +<h3>WINCHESTER WOMEN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Fremantle’s Three Months in Southern Lines.]</p> +<p>Winchester used to be a most agreeable town, and its +society extremely pleasant. Many of its houses are now +destroyed or converted into hospitals, the outlook miserable +and dilapidated. Its female inhabitants (for the +able-bodied males are all absent in the army) are +familiar with the bloody realities of war. As many as +5,000 wounded have been accommodated here at one +time. All the ladies are accustomed to the bursting of +shells and the sight of fighting, and all are turned into +hospital nurses or cooks.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SPARTA_IN_MISSISSIPPI' id='SPARTA_IN_MISSISSIPPI'></a> +<h3>SPARTA IN MISSISSIPPI</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Gen. J. B. Gordon.]</p> +<p>The heroines of Sparta who gave their hair for bow-strings +have been immortalized by the muse of history; +but what tongue can speak or pen indite a tribute worthy +of the Mississippi woman who with her own hands applied +the torch to more than half a million dollars’ worth +of cotton, reducing herself to poverty rather than have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +that cotton employed against her people. The day will +come, and I believe it is rapidly approaching, when in all +will be seen evidences of appreciation of these inspiring +incidents; when all lips will unite in expressing gratitude +to God that they belong to such a race of men and +women.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WOMANS_DEVOTIONA_WINCHESTER_HEROINE' id='WOMANS_DEVOTIONA_WINCHESTER_HEROINE'></a> +<h3>“WOMAN’S DEVOTION”—A WINCHESTER HEROINE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Gen. D. H. Maury, in Southern Historical Papers.]</p> +<p>The history of Winchester is replete with romantic +and glorious memories of the late war. One of the most +interesting of these has been perpetuated by the glowing +pencil of Oregon Wilson, himself a native of this valley, +and the fine picture he has made of the incident portrayed +by him has drawn tears from many who loved their +Southern country and the devoted women who elated +and sanctified by their heroic sacrifices the cause which, +borne down for a time, now rises again to honor all who +sustained it.</p> +<p>That truth, which is stranger than fiction, is stronger, +too. The simple historic facts which gave Wilson the +theme of his great picture gains nothing from the romantic +glamour his beautiful art has thrown about the actors +in the story.</p> +<p>In 1864, General Ramseur, commanding a Confederate +force near Winchester, was suddenly attacked by a +Federal force under General Averell, and after a sharp +encounter was forced back through the town. The +battlefield was near the residence of Mr. Rutherford, +about two miles distant, and the wounded were gathered +in his house and yard. The Confederate surgeons left +in charge of these wounded men appealed to the women +of Winchester (the men had all gone off to the war) to +come out and aid in dressing the wounds and nursing the +wounded. As was always the way of these Winchester +women, they promptly responded to this appeal, and on +the —— day of July more than twenty ladies went out +to Mr. Rutherford’s to minister to their suffering countrymen. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +There were more than sixty severely wounded +men who had been collected from the battlefield and were +lying in the house and garden of Mr. Rutherford. The +weather was warm, and those out of doors were as comfortable +and as quiet as those within. Amongst them +was a beardless boy named Randolph Ridgely; he was +severely hurt; his thigh was broken by a bullet, and his +sufferings were very great; his nervous system was +shocked and unstrung, and he could find no rest. The +kind surgeon in charge of him had many others to care +for; he felt that quiet sleep was all important for his +young patient, and he placed him under charge of a +young girl who had accompanied these ladies from Winchester; +told her his life depended on his having quiet +sleep that night; showed her how best to support his +head, and promised to return and see after his condition +as soon and as often as his duties to the other wounded +would permit.</p> +<p>All through that anxious night the brave girl sat, sustaining +the head of the wounded youth and carefully +guarding him against everything that could disturb his +rest or break the slumber into which he gently sank, and +which was to save his life. She only knew and felt that +a brave Confederate life depended on her care. She had +never seen him before, nor has she ever seen him since. +And when at dawn the surgeon came to her, he found her +still watching and faithful, just as he had left her at +dark—as only a true woman, as we love to believe our +Virginia women, can be. The soldier had slept soundly. +He awoke only once during the night, when tired nature +forced his nurse to change her posture; and when after +the morning came she was relieved of her charge, and +she fell ill of the exhaustion and exposure of that night. +Her consolation during the weary weeks she lay suffering +was that she had saved a brave soldier for her +country.</p> +<p>In the succeeding year, Captain Hancock, of the +Louisiana Infantry, was brought to Winchester, wounded +and a prisoner. He lay many weeks in the hospital, and +when nearly recovered of his wounds, was notified that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +he would be sent to Fort Delaware. As the time drew +near for his consignment to this hopeless prison, he confided +to Miss Lenie Russell, the same young girl who +had saved young Ridgely’s life, that he was engaged to +be married to a lady of lower Virginia, and was resolved +to attempt to make his escape. She cordially entered +into his plans, and aided in their successful accomplishment. +The citizens of Winchester were permitted sometimes +to send articles of food and comfort to the sick +and wounded Confederates, and Miss Russell availed herself +of this to procure the escape of the gallant captain. +She caused him to don the badge of a hospital attendant, +take a market basket on his arm and accompany her to a +house, whence he might, with least danger of detection +and arrest, effect his return to his own lines. Captain +Hancock made good use of his opportunity and safely rejoined +his comrades; survived the war; married his +sweetheart, and to this day omits no occasion for showing +his respect and gratitude for the generous woman to +whose courage and address he owes his freedom and his +happiness.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SPOKEN_LIKE_CORNELIA' id='SPOKEN_LIKE_CORNELIA'></a> +<h3>SPOKEN LIKE CORNELIA</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From The Gray Jacket, page 529.]</p> +<p>A young lady of Louisiana, whose father’s plantation +had been brought within the enemy’s lines in their operations +against Vicksburg, was frequently constrained by +the necessities of her situation to hold conversation with +the Federal officers. On one of these occasions, a +Yankee official inquired how she managed to preserve +her equanimity and cheerfulness and so many trials and +privations, and such severe reverses of fortune. “Our +army,” said he, “has deprived your father of two hundred +negroes, and literally desolated two magnificent +plantations.”</p> +<p>She said to the officer—a leader of that army, which +had, for months, hovered around Vicksburg, powerless +to take it with all their vast appliances of war, and mortified +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +by their repeated failures: “I am not insensible to +the comforts and elegances which fortune can secure, +and of which your barbarian hordes have deprived me; +but a true Southern woman will not weep over them, +while her country remains. If you wish to crush me, +take Vicksburg.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_SPECIMEN_MOTHER' id='A_SPECIMEN_MOTHER'></a> +<h3>A SPECIMEN MOTHER</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. Fannie A. Beers’ Memories, pages 208-209.]</p> +<p>At the commencement of the war there lived in +Sharon, Miss., Mr. and Mrs. O’Leary, surrounded +by a family of five stalwart sons. Mrs. Catherine +O’Leary was a fond and loving mother, but also an unfaltering +patriot, and her heart was fired with love for +the cause of Southern liberty. Therefore when her brave +sons, one after another, went forth to battle for the right, +she bade them God-speed. “Be true to your God and +your country,” said this noble woman, “and never disgrace +your mother by flinching from duty.”</p> +<p>Her youngest and, perhaps, dearest, was at that time +only 14. For a while she felt that his place was by her +side; but in 1863, when he was barely 17, she no longer +tried to restrain him. Her trembling hands, having +arrayed the last beloved boy for the sacrifice, rested in +blessings on his head ere he went forth. Repressing the +agony which swelled her heart, she calmly bade him, +also, “Do your duty. If you must die, let it be with +your face to the foe.” And so went forth James A. +O’Leary, at the tender age of 17, full of ardor and hope. +He was at once assigned to courier duty under General +Loring. On the 28th of July, 1864, at the battle of +Atlanta, he was shot through the hip, the bullet remaining +in the wound, causing intense suffering, until 1870, +when it was extracted, and the wound healed for the first +time. Notwithstanding this wound, he insisted upon +returning to his command, which, in the mean time, had +joined Wood’s regiment of cavalry. This was in 1865, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +and, so wounded, he served three months, surrendering +with General Wirt Adams at Gainesville. A short but +very glorious record. Mrs. O’Leary still lives in Sharon. +The old fire is unquenched.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MRS_ROONEY' id='MRS_ROONEY'></a> +<h3>MRS. ROONEY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. Fannie A. Beers’ Memories, pages 217-220.]</p> +<p>There is one bright, shining record of a patriotic and +tireless woman which remains undimmed when placed +beside that of the most devoted Confederate women. I +refer to Mrs. Rose Rooney, of Company K, Fifteenth +Louisiana Regiment, who left New Orleans in June, +1861, and never deserted the “b’ys” for a day until the +surrender.</p> +<p>She was no hanger-on about camp, but in everything +but actual fighting was as useful as any of the boys she +loved with all her big, warm, Irish heart, and served +with the undaunted bravery which led her to risk the +dangers of every battlefield where the regiment was engaged, +unheeding havoc made by the solid shot, so that +she might give timely succor to the wounded or comfort +the dying. When in camp she looked after the comfort +of the regiment, both sick and well, and many a one +escaped being sent to the hospital because Rose attended +to him so well. She managed to keep on hand a stock +of real coffee, paying at times $35 per pound for it. The +surrender almost broke her heart. Her defiant ways +caused her to be taken prisoner. I will give in her own +words an account of what followed:</p> +<p>“Sure, the Yankees took me prisoner along with the +rest. The next day, when they were changing the camps +to fix up for the wounded, I asked them what they would +do with me. They tould me to ‘go to the devil.’ I tould +them, ‘I’ve been long in his company; I’d choose something +better.’ I then asked them where any Confederates +lived. They tould me about three miles through the +woods. On my way I met some Yankees. They asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +me, ‘What have you in that bag?’ I said, ‘Some rags of +my own.’ I had a lot of rags on the top, but six new +dresses at the bottom; and sure, I got off with them all. +Then they asked me if I had any money. I said no; +but in my stocking I had two hundred dollars in Confederate +money. One of the Yankees, a poor devil of a +private soldier, handed me three twenty-five cents of +Yankee money. I said to him, ‘Sure, you must be an +Irishman.’ ‘Yes,’ said he. I then went on till I got to +the house. Mrs. Crump and her sister were in the yard, +and about twenty negro women—no men. I had not a +bite for two days, nor any water, so I began to cry from +weakness. Mrs. Crump said, ‘Don’t cry; you are among +friends.’ She then gave me plenty to eat,—hot hoecakes +and buttermilk. I stayed there fifteen days, superintending +the cooking for the sick and wounded men. One +half of the house was full of Confederates and the other +of Yankees. They then brought us to Burkesville, where +all the Yankees were gathered together. There was an +ould doctor there, and he began to curse me, and to talk +about all we had done to their prisoners. I tould him, +‘And what have you to say to what you done to our +poor fellows?’ He tould me to shut up, and sure I did. +They asked me fifty questions after, and I never opened +me mouth. The next day was the day when all the Confederate +flags came to Petersburg. I had some papers +in my pocket that would have done harrum to some +people, so I chewed them all up and ate them; but I +wouldn’t take the oath, and I never did take it. The +flags were brought in on dirt-carts and as they passed +the Federal camps them Yankees would unfurl them and +shake them about to show them. My journey from +Burkesville to Petersburg was from 11 in the morning +till 11 at night, and I sitting on my bundle all the way. +The Yankee soldiers in the car were cursing me, and +calling me a damn rebel, and more ugly talk. I said, +‘Mabbe some of you has got a mother or wife; if so, +you’ll show some respect for me.’ Then they were quiet. +I had to walk three miles to Captain Buckner’s headquarters. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +The family were in the house near the battle-ground, +but the door was shut, and I didn’t know who +was inside, and I couldn’t see any light. I sat down +on the porch, and thought I would have to stay there all +night. After a while I saw a light coming from under +the door, and so I knocked; when the door was opened +and they saw who it was, they were all delighted to see +me because they were afraid I was dead. I wanted to go +to Richmond, but would not go on a Yankee transportation. +When the brigade came down, I cried me heart +out because I was not let go on with them. I stayed +three months with Mrs. Cloyd, and then Major Rawle +sent me forty dollars and fifty more if I needed it, and +that brought me home to New Orleans.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Rooney is still cared for and cherished by the +veterans of Louisiana. At the Soldiers’ Home she holds +the position of matron, and her little room is a shrine +never neglected by visitors to “Camp Nichols.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WARNING_BY_A_BRAVE_GIRL' id='WARNING_BY_A_BRAVE_GIRL'></a> +<h3>WARNING BY A BRAVE GIRL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Our Women in the War, pages 63-64.]</p> +<p>I know of a girl who rode through the storm of a +winter’s night, many miles, to give information to our +soldiers when Sherman was on his way to Atlanta. +The country far and wide was filled with soldiers, and +skirmishing was of constant occurrence. By her efforts +many lives were saved, and as she returned homeward +the shot and shell were falling thick and fast around her. +Later, a desperate encounter took place in her father’s +yard between contending armies, and her courage was +wonderful in assisting the wounded and baffling inquiries +from the Yankee officers, who made headquarters in her +home. She still managed to give important information, +and defied detection. This girl is of an ancient family, +and soldier blood is in her veins. Her grandfather was +a general in the United States army before her mother +was grown.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +<a name='A_PLUCKY_GIRL_WITH_A_PISTOL' id='A_PLUCKY_GIRL_WITH_A_PISTOL'></a> +<h3>A PLUCKY GIRL WITH A PISTOL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Our Women in the War, pages 37-39.]</p> +<p>Charleston was under an iron heel, the heel of despair. +Every house had its shutters closed and darkened; all +the rooms overlooking the streets were abandoned; the +women endeavored to give a deserted and dreary aspect +to every mansion, and lived as retiringly as possible in +the back portions of their dwellings, hoping that the +Northern soldiery in the city would suppose such houses +to be deserted and therefore would not search them.</p> +<p>But this did not save Mr. Cunningham’s house. By +a strange coincidence it was again a company of black +Michigan troops, with a negro in command, that burst +open the locked gate, tore up the flower garden, and +finally streamed up the back piazza steps, armed with +muskets and glittering bayonets that shone in the noonday +sun, their faces blacker than ink, their eyes red with +drink and malice. The three girls saw them from the +dining-room and shivered, but not one moment was lost. +Cecil pushed the other two into the room, saying, “Stay +here, I will go close this door and meet them,” and advancing +quickly she reached the entrance to the piazza +just as the captain set his foot on the last step, and +would have entered, but that her slight person filled up +the narrow space.</p> +<p>“What do you want here?” she asked. “Why do you +and your troops rush into my house?”</p> +<p>“We want quarters here, and quarters we will have. +Move aside and let us in.”</p> +<p>“I shall not; we don’t take boarders, and I have not +invited you as guests. Go away at once, or I will report +you to the general in command.”</p> +<p>“D——n you, move aside, or I will throw you down.”</p> +<p>“Keep your hands off if you are wise,” said Cecil, +instantly placing one of her own in her pocket, and never +removing her steady eyes from his face.</p> +<p>“By God! I believe you have got a pistol; let’s search +her person for arms.”</p> +<p>“I have a pistol and shall shoot the first person that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +touches me, even if you all strike and kill me afterwards. +Leave this yard, and do it at once. By 3 o’clock I will +give you an answer if you come here for quarters then; +now go!”</p> +<p>“You little rebel devil! We will be back, and we will +stay next time, be sure; and will take that same pistol +from you, too.”</p> +<p>With an extra volley of fearful curses they departed +and the girls rushed to Cecil, who, after the excitement +was over and nerve no longer needed, turned white and +faint. Then they all sat down and cried, feeling like +desolate orphans.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MOSBYS_MEN_AND_TWO_NOBLE_GIRLS' id='MOSBYS_MEN_AND_TWO_NOBLE_GIRLS'></a> +<h3>MOSBY’S MEN AND TWO NOBLE GIRLS</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Wearing of the Gray, pages 545-547.]</p> +<p>The force at Morgan’s Lane was too great to meet +front to front, and the ground so unfavorable for receiving +their assault, that Mountjoy gave the order for his +men to save themselves, and they abandoned the prisoners +and horses, put spurs to their animals, and retreated +at full gallop past the mill, across a little stream, +and up the long hill upon which was situated the mansion +above referred to. Behind them the one hundred Federal +cavalrymen came on at full gallop, calling upon them +to halt, and firing volleys into them as they retreated.</p> +<p>We beg now to introduce upon the scene the female +<i>dramatis personae</i> of the incident—two young ladies who +had hastened out to the fence as soon as the firing began, +and now witnessed the whole. As they reached the +fence, the fifteen men of Captain Mountjoy appeared, +mounting the steep road like lightning, closely pursued +by the Federal cavalry, whose dense masses completely +filled the narrow road. The scene at the moment was +sufficient to try the nerves of the young ladies. The +clash of hoofs, the crack of carbines, the loud cries of +“halt! halt!! halt!!!”—this tramping, shouting, banging, +to say nothing of the quick hiss of bullets filling the +air, rendered the “place and time” more stirring than +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +agreeable to one consulting the dictates of a prudent +regard to his or her safety.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the young ladies did not stir. They had +half mounted the board fence, and in this elevated position +were exposed to a close and dangerous fire; more +than one bullet burying itself in the wood close to their +persons. But they did not move—and this for a reason +more creditable than mere curiosity to witness the engagement, +which may, however, have counted for something. +This attracted them, but they were engaged in +“doing good,” too. It was of the last importance that +the men should know where they could cross the river.</p> +<p>“Where is the nearest ford?” they shouted.</p> +<p>“In the woods there,” was the reply of one of the +young ladies, pointing with her hand, and not moving.</p> +<p>“How can we reach it?”</p> +<p>“Through the gate,” and waving her hand, the speaker +directed the rest, amid a storm of bullets burying themselves +in the fence close beside her.</p> +<p>The men went at full gallop towards the ford. Last +of all came Mountjoy—but Mountjoy, furious, foaming +almost at the mouth, on fire with indignation, and uttering +oaths so frightful that they terrified the young ladies +much more than the balls or the Federal cavalry darting +up the hill.</p> +<p>The partisan had scarcely disappeared in the woods, +when the enemy rushed up, and demanded which way +the Confederates had taken.</p> +<p>“I will not tell you,” was the reply of the youngest +girl. The trooper drew a pistol, and cocking it, levelled +it at her head.</p> +<p>“Which way?” he thundered.</p> +<p>The young lady shrunk from the muzzle, and said: +“How do I know?”</p> +<p>“Move on!” resounded from the lips of the officer in +command, and the column rushed by, nearly trampling +upon the ladies, who ran into the house.</p> +<p>Here a new incident greeted them, and one sufficiently +tragic. Before the door, sitting on his horse, was a +trooper, clad in blue—and at sight of him the ladies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +shrunk back. A second glance showed them that he was +bleeding to death from a mortal wound. The bullet had +entered his side, traversed the body, issued from the opposite +side, inflicting a wound which rendered death +almost certain.</p> +<p>“Take me from my horse!” murmured the wounded +man, stretching out his arms and tottering.</p> +<p>The young girls ran to him.</p> +<p>“Who are you—one of the Yankees?” they exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Oh, no!” was the faint reply. “I am one of Mountjoy’s +men. Tell him, when you see him, that I said, +‘Captain, this is the first time I have gone out with you, +and the last!’”</p> +<p>As they assisted him from the saddle, he murmured: +“My name is William Armistead Braxton. I have a wife +and three little children living in Hanover—you must let +them know—”</p> +<p>The poor fellow fainted; and the young ladies were +compelled to carry him in their arms into the house, +where he was laid upon a couch, writhing in agony.</p> +<p>They had then time to look at him, and saw before +them a young man of gallant countenance, elegant +figure—in every outline of his person betraying the gentleman +born and bred. They afterwards discovered that +he had just joined Mosby, and that, as he had stated, this +was his first scout. Poor fellow! it was also his last.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_SPARTAN_DAME_AND_HER_YOUNG' id='A_SPARTAN_DAME_AND_HER_YOUNG'></a> +<h3>A SPARTAN DAME AND HER YOUNG</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From The Gray Jacket, page 488.]</p> +<p>“We were once,” says General D. H. Hill, “witness +to a remarkable piece of coolness in Virginia. A six-gun +battery was shelling the woods furiously near which +stood a humble hut. As we rode by, the shells were +fortunately too high to strike the dwelling, but this might +occur any moment by lowering the angle or shortening +the fire. The husband was away, probably far off in the +army, but the good housewife was busy at the wash-tub, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +regardless of all the roar and crash of shells and falling +timber. Our surprise at her coolness was lost in greater +amazement at observing three children, the oldest not +more than 10, on top of a fence, watching with great +interest the flight of the shells. Our curiosity was so +much excited by the extraordinary spectacle that we +could not refrain from stopping and asking the children +if they were not afraid. ‘Oh, no,’ replied they, ‘the +Yankees ain’t shooting at us, they are shooting at the +soldiers.’”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SINGING_UNDER_FIRE' id='SINGING_UNDER_FIRE'></a> +<h3>SINGING UNDER FIRE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[A Rebel’s Recollections, pages 72-73.]</p> +<p>They [the women of Petersburg] carried their efforts +to cheer and help the troops into every act of their lives. +When they could, they visited camp. Along the lines of +march they came out with water or coffee or tea—the +best they had, whatever it might be; with flowers, or +garlands of green when their flowers were gone. A +bevy of girls stood under a sharp fire from the enemy’s +lines at Petersburg one day, while they sang Bayard +Taylor’s “Song of the Camp,” responding to an encore +with the stanza:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Ah! soldiers, to your honored rest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Your truth and valor bearing;</p> +<p>The bravest are the tenderest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The loving are the daring!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Indeed, the coolness of women under fire was always +a matter of surprise to me. A young girl, not more +than 16 years of age, acted as guide to a scouting party +during the early years of the war, and when we urged +her to go back after the enemy had opened a vigorous +fire upon us, she declined, on the plea that she believed +we were “going to charge those fellows,” and she +“wanted to see the fun.” At Petersburg women did +their shopping and went about their duties under a most +uncomfortable bombardment, without evincing the slightest +fear or showing any nervousness whatever.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +<a name='A_WOMANS_LAST_WORD' id='A_WOMANS_LAST_WORD'></a> +<h3>A WOMAN’S LAST WORD</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston, in Southern Soldier Stories, pages 225-227.]</p> +<p>The city of Richmond was in flames. We were beginning +that last terrible retreat which ended the war. +Fire had been set to the arsenal as a military possession, +which must on no account fall into the enemy’s hands. +As the flames spread, because of a turn of the wind, +other buildings caught. The whole business part of the +city was on fire. To make things worse, some idiot had +ordered that all the liquor in the city should be poured +into the gutters. The rivers of alcohol had been ignited +from the burning buildings. It was a time and scene +of unutterable terror.</p> +<p>As we marched up the fire-lined street, with the flames +scorching the very hair off our horses, George Goodsmith—the +best cannoneer that ever wielded a rammer—came +up to the headquarters squad, and said: “Captain, +my wife’s in Richmond. We’ve been married less than a +year. She is soon to become a mother. I beg permission +to bid her good-bye. I’ll join the battery later.”</p> +<p>The permission was granted readily, and George Goodsmith +put spurs to his horse. He had just been made a +sergeant, and was therefore mounted. It was in the gray +of the morning that he hurriedly met his wife. With +caresses of the tenderest kind, he bade her farewell. +Realizing for a moment the utter hopelessness of our +making another stand on the Roanoke, or any other line, +he said in the bitterness of his soul: “Why shouldn’t I +stay here and take care of you?”</p> +<p>The woman straightened herself and replied: “I +would rather be the widow of a brave man than the wife +of a coward.”</p> +<p>That was their parting, for the time was very short. +Mayo’s bridge across the James River was already in +flames when Goodsmith perilously galloped across it.</p> +<p>Three or four days later—for I never could keep tab +on time at that period of the war—we went into the +battle at Farmville. Goodsmith was in his place in command +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +of the piece. Just before fire opened he beckoned +to me, and I rode up to hear what he had to say.</p> +<p>“I’m going to be killed, I think,” he said. “If I am, +I want my wife to know that she is the widow of a—brave +man. I want her to know that I did my duty to +the last. And—and if you live long enough and this +thing don’t kill Mary—I want you to tell the little one +about his father.”</p> +<p>Goodsmith’s premonition of his death was one of many +that were fulfilled during the war. A moment later a +fearful struggle began. At the first fire George Goodsmith’s +wife became the “widow of a brave man.” His +body was heavy with lead.</p> +<p>His son, then unborn, is now a successful broker in a +great city. There is nothing particularly knightly or +heroic about him, for this is not a knightly or heroic age. +But he takes very tender care of his mother—that +“widow of a brave man.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='TWO_MISSISSIPPI_GIRLS_HOLD_YANKEES_AT_PISTOL_POINT' id='TWO_MISSISSIPPI_GIRLS_HOLD_YANKEES_AT_PISTOL_POINT'></a> +<h3>TWO MISSISSIPPI GIRLS HOLD YANKEES AT PISTOL POINT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Richmond Enquirer, July 22, 1862, page 3.]</p> +<p>A Memphis correspondent of the <i>Appeal</i>, in referring +to the bad treatment of citizens by the Federal soldiers, +related the following:</p> +<p>The most unmanly and brutal act that I know of is +their treatment of two Misses Coe. Levin Coe, their +brother, was at home, discharged from the army. They +surrounded the house before the family knew they were +on the place. Fortunately young Coe had gone fishing, +and two of his sisters escaped to the garden and ran to +warn him not to come home. The Yankees saw the +way they went, and followed them, but the sisters outran +them and gave their brother the information of their +coming. They came up with the ladies at a house in +the vicinity of the creek, and attempted to arrest them, +but they were both armed and dared the six big, strapping +Yankees to lay their hands on them. One would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +say to another, “She’s got a pistol; take it away from +her.” And she, a weak woman, stood at bay and told +them to touch her at their peril. And the craven wretches +dared not do it. At last, to get them from the neighborhood +of their brother, they agreed to go to headquarters +with them. It was then noon, and these girls had run +two miles, and then these scoundrels marched them off +on foot four miles to town. At every step they tried to +get their pistols from them, threatening them with instant +death if they did not give them up. Three times they +placed their pistols at the girls’ hearts with them cocked +and their fingers on the trigger, telling them they would +kill them. Each time the girls replied, “Shoot; I can +shoot as quick as you can.” And they never did give +them up until their brother-in-law came up with them and +told them to do so, and he gave himself up in their place. +Levin Coe escaped.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WAR_WOMEN_OF_PETERSBURG' id='WAR_WOMEN_OF_PETERSBURG'></a> +<h3>“WAR WOMEN” OF PETERSBURG</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Southern Soldier Stories, pages 72-73.]</p> +<p>During all those weary months the good women of +Petersburg went about their household affairs with fifteen-inch +shells dropping occasionally into their boudoirs +or uncomfortably near to their kitchen ranges. Yet they +paid no attention to any danger that threatened themselves. +Their deeds of mercy will never be adequately +recorded until the angels report. But this much I want +to say of them—they were “war women” of the most +daring and devoted type. When there was need of their +ministrations on the line, they were sure to be promptly +there; and once, as I have recorded elsewhere in print, a +bevy of them came out to the lines only to encourage us, +and, under a fearful fire, sang Bayard Taylor’s “Song of +the Camp,” giving as an encore the lines:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Ah! soldiers, to your honored rest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Your truth and valor bearing;</p> +<p>The bravest are the tenderest,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The loving are the daring.”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></div> +<p>With inspiration such as these women gave us, it was +no wonder that, as I heard General Sherman say soon +after the war: “It took us four years, with all our enormous +superiority in resources, to overcome the stubborn +resistance of those men.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='JOHN_ALLENS_COW' id='JOHN_ALLENS_COW'></a> +<h3>JOHN ALLEN’S COW</h3> +</div> +<p>While General Milroy was in possession of Winchester +he was extremely harsh and vindictive towards the +people. A great many of them were reduced to the +borders of starvation. Miss Allen, a 15-year-old Southern +girl, was a member of a family almost absolutely +dependent on a good cow’s milk for sustenance. In a +short time the cow’s food was exhausted and the prospect +looked dark indeed. There was a good pasturage just +outside the town, beyond the guard lines of the Federal +troops. The brave girl volunteered to lead the cow out +and attend her while grazing. A permit to pass the lines +from General Milroy was necessary. She went to the +general and laid her case before him and asked for a +permit. He flatly refused her request and rudely insulted +the poor girl.</p> +<p>“I can’t do anything for you rebels and I will not let +you pass. The rebellion has got to be crushed,” said he.</p> +<p>“Well,” answered the girl, “if you think you can crush +the rebellion by starving John Allen’s old cow, just crush +away.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_FAMILY_THAT_HAD_NO_LUCK' id='THE_FAMILY_THAT_HAD_NO_LUCK'></a> +<h3>THE FAMILY THAT HAD NO LUCK</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston, in Southern Soldier Stories, pages 23-24.]</p> +<p>At the battle of Fredericksburg, as we tumbled into +the sunken road, an old man came in bearing an Enfield +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +rifle and wearing an old pot hat of the date of 1857 or +thereabouts. With a gentle courtesy that was unusual +in war, he apologized to the two men between whom he +placed himself, saying: “I hope I don’t crowd you, but +I must find a place somewhere from which I can shoot.”</p> +<p>At that moment one of the great assaults occurred. +The old man used his gun like an expert. He wasted no +bullet. He took aim every time and fired only when he +knew his aim to be effective. Yet he fired rapidly.</p> +<p>Tom Booker, who stood next to him, said as the advancing +column was swept away: “You must have shot +birds on the wing in your time.”</p> +<p>The old man answered: “I did up to twenty years +ago; but then I sort o’ lost my sight, you know, and my +interest in shootin’.”</p> +<p>“Well, you’ve got ’em both back again,” called out +Billy Goodwin, from down the line.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man. “You see I had to. It’s +this way: I had six boys and six gells. When the war +broke out I thought the six boys could do my family’s +share o’ the fightin’. Well, they did their best, but they +didn’t have no luck. One of ’em was killed at Manassas, +two others in a cavalry raid, and the other three fell in +different actions—’long the road, as you might say. We +ain’t seemed to a had no luck. But it’s just come to this, +that if the family is to be represented, the old man must +git up his shootin’ agin, or else one o’ the gells would +have to take a hand. So here I am.”</p> +<p>Just then the third advance was made. A tremendous +column of heroic fellows was hurled upon us, only to be +swept away as its predecessors had been. Two or three +minutes did the work, but at the end of that time the +old man fell backward, and Tom Booker caught him in +his arms.</p> +<p>“You’re shot,” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes. The family don’t seem to have no luck. If +one of my gells comes to you, you’ll give her a fair chance +to shoot straight, won’t you, boys?”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +<a name='BRAVE_WOMEN_AT_RESACA_GA' id='BRAVE_WOMEN_AT_RESACA_GA'></a> +<h3>BRAVE WOMEN AT RESACA, GA.</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>In a letter to Mrs. E. J. Simmons, of Calhoun, Ga., +dated June 7, 1896, Rev. Jno. C. Portis, of Union, Miss., +formerly of the Eighteenth Mississippi Regiment, and +now a Congregational Methodist minister, writes:</p> +<p>“My good right arm lies about a mile south of Resaca, +Ga., just north of a church at the root of a large oak or +chestnut tree. It was put in a board box and buried by +a comrade. Hence you see I feel an interest in the wild +hills of Resaca. I was a private in Company B, Eighth +Mississippi Volunteer Inf., and was wounded in right +shoulder and throat about dark in a charge on the enemy’s +works, May 14, 1864, on the side of a hill just west +of the village on the north side of the river. I was carried +back to the bluff below the bridge, where about three or +four hundred poor fellows were lying torn, bleeding, and +some dying. After a time I crossed the bridge, and, faint +and sick, I was trying to make my way to Cheatham’s +Division Hospital, which was in the church. A man +came into the road with an ox wagon loaded in part with +beds which appeared to be very white. Some one called +him Motes and asked him about his family (Motes’s family), +and he said they had gone on to Calhoun. Mr. +Motes insisted that I should ride, and said his wife would +not care if all her beds were dyed with rebel blood. He +carried me to the old church. I would like to know what +became of Mr. Motes; I could not see his face. The +night was dark. Sunday morning, May 15, about eight +o’clock, my right arm was amputated at the shoulder +joint. Thirty-two years have passed since then, and +strange it may seem that a boy soldier, that few thought +could live, is writing this reminiscence of those two days +of carnage. Never shall I forget the morning of that +fateful 14th of May, when at early dawn the signal guns +told us in tones of thunder that both armies were ready +for the work of death. Bright rose the sun, tipping +mountain peak with blooming rays of silver and bathing +valley and woodland in a flood of golden light, a scene +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +never to be witnessed again by hundreds of the boys who +wore the blue and the gray. In the streets of Resaca that +day I saw enacted a deed of heroism which challenged the +admiration of all who witnessed it. A wagon occupied +by several ladies was passing along north of the river and +just west of the railroad, when a Yankee battery opened +fire on it and, until it had passed over the bridge, poured +a storm of shells around it. A young woman stood erect +in the wagon waving her hat, which was dressed with +red or had a red ribbon or plume on it, seemingly to defy +the cowards who would make war on defenceless women. +I felt then, as I do to-day, for that woman a man could +freely die. Many a rebel boy felt as I did that day. I +was taken from the church to a bush-arbor on the west +side of the railroad, where I expected to die. A middle-aged +woman dressed in black came with nourishment and +(God forever bless her) fed me, and during that awful +day ministered to the wants of the wounded and dying. +If I remember correctly she came often to me with food +and drink. Who she was I may never know, but she was +a noble woman.”</p> +<p>The fearlessness of the Southern women under cannon +and rifle fire mentioned in the above incident was exhibited +time and again during the war. The women +seemed to have their souls and bodies keyed up for any +and all emergencies. There may be something of an explanation +in the fact that they belonged to a race of +marksmen and expected bullets and cannon balls to hit +what they were aimed to hit, and as they didn’t think +anybody was trying to kill them, they apprehended no +danger.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_WOMANS_HAIR' id='A_WOMANS_HAIR'></a> +<h3>A WOMAN’S HAIR</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Southern Soldier Stories, pages 82-84.]</p> +<p>About 10 o’clock in the morning the sharpshooters +began. Our captain instantly divided us into two squads, +and without military formalities said: “Now, boys, ride +to the right and left and corner ’em.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></div> +<p>That was the only command we received, but we +obeyed it with a will. The two sharpshooting citizens +who were there that morning escaped on good horses, but +we captured the pickets.</p> +<p>Among them was a woman—a Juno in appearance, +with a wealth of raven black hair twisted carelessly into +a loose knot under the jockey cap she wore. She was +mounted on a superb chestnut mare, and she knew how +to ride. She might easily have escaped, and at one time +seemed to do so, but at the critical moment she seemed to +lose her head and so fell into our hands.</p> +<p>When we brought her to Charlie Irving she was all +smiles and graciousness, and Charlie was all blushes.</p> +<p>“You’d hang me to a tree, if I were a man, I suppose,” +she said. “And serve me right, too. As I’m only a +woman, you’d better send me to General Stuart, instead.”</p> +<p>This seemed so obviously the right way out of it +Charlie ordered Ham Seay and me to escort her to +Stuart’s headquarters, which were under a tree some +miles in the rear.</p> +<p>When we got there Stuart seemed to recognize the +young woman. Or perhaps it was only his habitual and +constitutional gallantry that made him come forward +with every manifestation of welcome, and himself help +her off her horse, taking her by the waist for that purpose.</p> +<p>Ham Seay and I, being mere privates, were ordered to +another tree. But we could not help seeing that cordial +relations were quickly established between our commander +and this young woman. We saw her presently +take down her magnificent black hair and remove from it +some papers. They were not “curl papers,” or that sort +of stuffing which women call “rats.” Stuart was a very +gallant man, and he received the papers with much +fervor. He spread them out carefully on the ground, and +seemed to be reading what was written or drawn upon +them. Then he talked long and earnestly with the young +woman and seemed to be coming to some definite sort of +understanding with her. Then she dined with him on +some fried salt pork and some hopelessly indigestible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +fried paste. Then he mounted her on her mare again and +summoned Ham Seay and me.</p> +<p>“Escort this young lady back to Captain Irving,” he +said. “Tell him to send her to the Federal lines under +flag of truce, with the message that she was inadvertently +captured in a picket charge, and that as General Stuart +does not make war on women and children, he begs to +return her to her home and friends.”</p> +<p>We did all this.</p> +<p>The next day, Stuart with a strong force advanced to +Mason’s and Munson’s mills. From there we could +clearly see a certain house in Washington. It had many +windows, and each had a dark Holland shade. When we +stood guard we were ordered to observe minutely and +report accurately the slidings up and down of those +Holland shades. We never knew what three shades up, +two half up, and five down might signify. But we had +to report it, nevertheless, and Stuart seemed from that +time to have an almost preternatural advance perception +of the enemy’s movements. That young woman certainly +had a superb shock of hair.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='A_BREACH_OF_ETIQUETTE' id='A_BREACH_OF_ETIQUETTE'></a> +<h3>A BREACH OF ETIQUETTE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston, in Southern Soldier Stories, pages 121-123.]</p> +<p>Finally we went near to Martinsburg, and came upon +a farm-house. The farm gave no appearance of being +a large one, or one more than ordinarily prosperous, yet +we saw through the open door a dozen or fifteen “farm +hands” eating dinner, all of them in their shirt-sleeves. +Stuart rode up, with a few of us at his back, to make +inquiries, and we dismounted. Just then a slip of a +girl,—not over 14, I should say—accompanied by a thickset +young bull-dog, with an abnormal development of +teeth, ran up to meet us.</p> +<p>She distinctly and unmistakably “sicked” that dog +upon us. But as the beast assailed us, the young girl +ran after him and restrained his ardor by throwing her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +arms around his neck. As she did so, she kept repeating +in a low but very insistent tone to us: “Make ’em put +their coats on! Make ’em put their coats on! Make +’em put their coats on!”</p> +<p>Stuart was a peculiarly ready person. He said not +one word to the young girl as she led her dog away, but +with a word or two he directed a dozen or so of us to +follow him with cocked carbines into the dining-room. +There he said to the “farm hands:” “Don’t you know +that a gentleman never dines without his coat? Aren’t +you ashamed of yourselves? And ladies present, too! +Get up and put on your coats, every man jack of you, or +I’ll riddle you with bullets in five seconds.”</p> +<p>They sprang first of all into the hallway, where they +had left their arms; but either the bull-dog or the 14-year-old +girl had taken care of that. The arms were +gone. Then seeing the carbines levelled, they made a +hasty search of the hiding-places in which they had bestowed +their coats. A minute later they appeared as +fully uniformed but helplessly unarmed Pennsylvania +volunteers.</p> +<p>They were prisoners of war at once, without even an +opportunity to finish that good dinner. As we left the +house the young girl came up to Stuart and said: “Don’t +say anything about it, but the dog wouldn’t have bit you. +He knows which side we’re on in this war.”</p> +<p>As we rode away this young girl—she of the bull-dog—cried +out: “To think the wretches made us give +’em dinner; and in their shirt-sleeves, too.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='LOLA_SANCHEZS_RIDE' id='LOLA_SANCHEZS_RIDE'></a> +<h3>LOLA SANCHEZ’S RIDE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Women in The War.]</p> +<p>During the war for Southern independence there lived +just opposite Palatka, on the east bank of the St. Johns +River, Florida, a Cuban gentleman, Mauritia Sanchez by +name, who early in life had left the West Indies to seek +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +a home in the State of Florida. Many years had passed +since then and Mr. Sanchez was at the time of the following +incident an old man, infirm and in wretched health. +The family consisted of an invalid wife, one son, who +was in the service of the Confederacy, and three daughters, +Panchita, Lola, and Eugenia.</p> +<p>Suspicion had long fastened upon Mr. Sanchez as a +spy for the Confederates, and at the time of this incident, +the old man had been torn from his home and family and +was a prisoner in the old Spanish Fort San Marcos (now +Fort Marion), at St. Augustine. The girls occupied the +old home with their mother and were entirely unprotected. +Many times at night their house was surrounded +by white and negro soldiers expecting to surprise them +and find Confederates about the place, for the Yankees +knew some one was giving information, but thought it +was Mr. Sanchez. The Southern soldiers were higher +up the St. Johns, on the west side. It was usual for the +Yankee officers to visit frequently at the Sanchez home, +and the girls, for policy, (and information) were cordial +in their reception of them, and thereby gained some protection +from the thieving soldiery.</p> +<p>One warm summer’s night three Yankee officers came +to the Sanchez home to spend the evening. After a short +time the three sisters left the officers and went to the dining +room to prepare supper. The soldiers, thinking +themselves safe, entered into the discussion of a plan to +surprise the Confederates on Sunday morning by sending +the gunboats up the river, and also by planning that a +foraging party should go out from St. Augustine.</p> +<p>On hearing this Lola Sanchez stopped her work and +listened. After hearing of the road the foraging party +would take and gaining all necessary information, she +told Panchita to entertain them until she returned. +Stealing softly from the house, she sped to the horse lot, +and throwing a saddle on her horse rode for life to the +ferry, a mile distant; there the ferryman took her horse, +and gave her a boat. She rowed herself across the St. +Johns, met one Confederate picket, who knew her and +gave her his horse. Out into the night through the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +woods she rode like the wind to Camp Davis, a mile and +a half away. Reaching the camp, she asked for Captain +Dickinson, (afterwards General Dickinson) and told him +the Yankees were coming up the river Sunday morning +and that the troop from St. Augustine would go out foraging +in a southerly direction. Then leaving the camp, +Lola Sanchez rode for her life indeed. She knew she +must not be missed from home. Giving the picket his +horse, she recrossed the ferry, then mounting her waiting +animal she struck out for home. Dismounting some +distance from the house, she turned her horse loose, and +reached home in time for supper and pleasantly entertained +her guests until a late hour.</p> +<p>That night Captain Dickinson marched his men to +intercept the Yankees. He crossed from the west to the +east side and surprised them on Sunday. A severe fight +ensued. The Yankee General Chatfield was killed and +Colonel Nobles wounded and captured. On that same +Sunday morning the Yankee gunboats went up the St. +Johns to surprise the Confederates. They were very +much surprised in turn. The Confederates were ready +for them, disabled a gunboat and captured a transport; +also many prisoners were taken by the Confederates.</p> +<p>The foraging party lost all their wagons, and everything +they had stolen, and again many prisoners were +taken, and Captain Dickinson sent for the three sisters to +be at the ferry (the one Lola Sanchez crossed) to see +the prisoners and wagons that had been taken.</p> +<p>Time and again this daughter of the Confederacy aided +and abetted the Southern cause. Some time after a pontoon +was captured, and renamed “The Three Sisters” in +compliment to these brave young women. The pontoon +was coming from Picolata to Orange Mills. Mr. Sanchez +still languished in Fort San Marco, however, and +Panchita grieved continuously over her father’s unjust +incarceration. The old man was truly innocent, his +daughters were the informers, but he did not know this. +Panchita determined to obtain his release if possible. +After some time spent in applying, she got a pass to go +through the Yankee lines, and boarding one of their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +transports, this young woman went alone to St. Augustine, +and gained her father’s freedom, taking him with +her back to the old homestead.</p> +<p>There is the “Emily Geiger Ride,” and “Lill Servosse’s +Ride,” but none more daring than that of Lola Sanchez, +the young Floridian of the Southern Confederacy. The +U. D. C. should look to it that one chapter at least should +be Lola Sanchez Chapter.</p> +<p>Lola Sanchez married Emanuel Lopez, a Confederate +soldier of the St. Augustine Blues; Eugenia married +Albert Rogers, another soldier of the St. Augustine +Blues; Panchita is the widow of the late John R. Miot, +of Columbia, S. C. Lola Sanchez died about seven years +ago. May the memory of this Southern woman never +fade.</p> +<p>These facts were recently related to me by Mrs. Eugenia +Rogers, of St. Augustine.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Elizabeth W. Mullings.</span></p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_REBEL_SOCK_A_TRUE_EPISODE_IN_SEWARDS_RAIDS_ON_' id='THE_REBEL_SOCK_A_TRUE_EPISODE_IN_SEWARDS_RAIDS_ON_'></a> +<h3>THE REBEL SOCK +<span class='chsub'> <br />A TRUE EPISODE IN SEWARD’S RAIDS ON THE OLD LADIES OF MARYLAND</span></h3> +</div> +<p class='center'><span class='smcap'>By Tenella.</span></p> +<p class='center'>[The Gray Jacket, pages 510-513.]</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>In all the pride and pomp of war</p> +<p class='indent2'>The Lincolnite was dressed;</p> +<p>High beat his patriotic heart</p> +<p class='indent2'>Beneath his armoured vest.</p> +<p>His maiden sword hung by his side,</p> +<p class='indent2'>His pistols both were right,</p> +<p class='indent2'>His coat was buttoned tight.</p> +<p>His shining spurs were on his heels;</p> +<p>A firm resolve sat on his brow,</p> +<p class='indent2'>For he to danger went.</p> +<p>By Seward’s self that day he was</p> +<p class='indent2'>On secret service sent.</p> +<p>“Mount and away!” he sternly cried</p> +<p class='indent2'>Unto the gallant band.</p> +<p>Who all equipped from head to heel</p> +<p class='indent2'>Awaited his command.</p> +<p>“But halt, my boys—before we go</p> +<p class='indent2'>These solemn words I’ll say,</p> +<p>Lincoln expects that every man</p> +<p class='indent2'>His duty’ll do to-day!”</p> +<p>“We will! we will!” the soldiers cried,</p> +<p class='indent2'>“The President shall see</p> +<p>That we will only run away</p> +<p class='indent2'>From Jackson or from Lee!”</p> +<p>And now they’re off, just four score men,</p> +<p class='indent2'>A picked and chosen troop.</p> +<p>And like a hawk upon a dove</p> +<p class='indent2'>On Maryland they swoop.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>From right to left, from house to house,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The little army rides.</p> +<p>In every lady’s wardrobe look</p> +<p class='indent2'>To see that there she hides;</p> +<p>They peep in closets, trunks, and drawers,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Examine every box;</p> +<p>Not rebel soldiers now they seek,</p> +<p class='indent2'>But rebel soldiers’ socks!</p> +<p>But all in vain—too keen for them</p> +<p class='indent2'>Were those dear ladies there,</p> +<p>And not a sock or flannel shirt</p> +<p class='indent2'>Was taken anywhere.</p> +<p>The day wore on to afternoon,</p> +<p class='indent2'>That warm and drowsy hour,</p> +<p>When Nature’s self doth seem to feel</p> +<p class='indent2'>A touch of Morpheus’ power.</p> +<p>A farm-house door stood open wide,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The men were all away,</p> +<p>The ladies sleeping in their rooms,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The children at their play;</p> +<p>The house dog lay upon the steps,</p> +<p class='indent2'>But never raised his head,</p> +<p>Though cracking on the gravel walk</p> +<p class='indent2'>He heard a stranger’s tread.</p> +<p>Old grandma, in her rocking chair,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Sat knitting in the hall,</p> +<p>When suddenly upon her work</p> +<p class='indent2'>A shadow seemed to fall.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes and there she saw</p> +<p class='indent2'>Our Fed’ral hero stand.</p> +<p>His little cap was on his head;</p> +<p class='indent2'>His sword was in his hand;</p> +<p>While circling round and round the house</p> +<p class='indent2'>His gallant soldiers ride</p> +<p>To guard the open kitchen door</p> +<p class='indent2'>And chicken coop beside.</p> +<p>Slowly the dear old lady rose</p> +<p class='indent2'>And tottering forward came,</p> +<p>And peering dimly through her “specks,”</p> +<p class='indent2'>Said, “Honey, what’s your name?”</p> +<p>Then as she raised her withered hand</p> +<p class='indent2'>To pat his sturdy arm—</p> +<p>“There’s no one here but grandmamma,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And she won’t do you harm;</p> +<p>Come, take a seat and don’t be scared;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Put up your sword, my child,</p> +<p>I would not hurt you for the world,”</p> +<p class='indent2'>She gently said and smiled.</p> +<p>“Madam, my duty must be done,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And I am firm as rock!”</p> +<p>Then pointing to her work he said,</p> +<p class='indent2'>“Is that a rebel sock!”</p> +<p>“Yes, honey, I am getting old,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And for hard work ain’t fit,</p> +<p>But for Confederate soldiers still</p> +<p class='indent2'>I, thank the Lord, can knit.”</p> +<p>“Madam, your work is contraband,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And Congress confiscates</p> +<p>This rebel sock, which I now seize,</p> +<p class='indent2'>To the United States.”</p> +<p>“Yes, honey, don’t be scared, for I</p> +<p class='indent2'>Will give it up to you.”</p> +<p>Then slowly from the half knit sock</p> +<p class='indent2'>The dame her needles drew,</p> +<p>Broke off her thread, wound up her ball</p> +<p class='indent2'>And stuck her needles in.</p> +<p>“Here, take it, child, and I to-night</p> +<p class='indent2'>Another will begin!”</p> +<p>The soldier next his loyal heart</p> +<p class='indent2'>The dear-bought trophy laid,</p> +<p>And that was all that Seward got</p> +<p class='indent2'>By this “old woman’s raid.”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THEIR_CAUSE' id='CHAPTER_V_THEIR_CAUSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V +<span class='chsub'> <br />THEIR CAUSE</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='INTRODUCTORY_NOTE_TO_THEIR_CAUSE' id='INTRODUCTORY_NOTE_TO_THEIR_CAUSE'></a> +<h3>INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO “THEIR CAUSE”</h3> +</div> +<p>In no sense does the author offer the suggestions in +this section as an apology for the course of Southern +women or men in the war between the States. They are +presented simply as a part of history, showing the political +principles which guided and moved the South in the +momentous struggle. They explain the lofty zeal and +heroic fortitude of the Confederate women. They cannot +be attributed to partisanship or sectional bias on the +part of the author, for sufficient quotations are herewith +presented from well-known Northern, English, and Continental +public men to show that if there is an extreme +Southern view it is held by other people as well as by our +own.</p> +<p>Right or wrong, each Southern man in the field and +each woman at home, toiled in that war with a <i>mens sibi +conscia recti</i>. It was a movement of the people. In the +ranks of the army were found hundreds of college graduates +and men carrying muskets whose property was valued +at a hundred thousand dollars, and at home the rich +and the poor women toiled with equal zeal for the cause +so dear to their hearts.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='WHEN_THIS_CRUEL_WAR_IS_OVER' id='WHEN_THIS_CRUEL_WAR_IS_OVER'></a> +<h3>“WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER”</h3> +</div> +<p>Mrs. W. W. Gordon, of Savannah, the wife of the +brave ex-Confederate officer who was commissioned +brigadier general by President McKinley, and served +with distinguished gallantry in the Spanish War, had +kindred in the Federal army, which under Sherman captured +Savannah. As the troops were entering the city +she stood with her children watching them as they +marched under the windows of her Southern home. Just +then the splendid brass band at the head of one of the divisions +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +began to play the old familiar air, “When this +cruel war is over.” Just as soon as the notes struck the +ear of her little daughter this enthusiastic young Confederate +exclaimed, “Mamma, just listen to the Yankees. +They are playing, ‘When this cruel war is over,’ and +they are just doing it themselves.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='NORTHERN_MEN_LEADERS_OF_DISUNION' id='NORTHERN_MEN_LEADERS_OF_DISUNION'></a> +<h3>NORTHERN MEN LEADERS OF DISUNION</h3> +</div> +<p>In 1860 it was plain to the world that the people of the +North were determined to spurn the compact of union +with the Southern States and to deny to those States all +right to control their own affairs. Here are the sentiments +of the Northern leaders:</p> +<p>“There is a higher law than the Constitution which +regulates our authority over the domain. Slavery must +be abolished, and we must do it.”—<i>Wm. H. Seward.</i></p> +<p>“The time is fast approaching when the cry will become +too overpowering to resist. Rather than tolerate national +slavery as it now exists, let the Union be dissolved +at once, and then the sin of slavery will rest where it +belongs.”—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p> +<p>“The Union is a lie. The American Union is an imposture—a +covenant with death and an agreement with +hell. We are for its overthrow! Up with the flag of +disunion, that we may have a free and glorious republic +of our own.”—<i>Wm. Lloyd Garrison.</i></p> +<p>“I look forward to the day when there shall be a servile +insurrection in the South; when the black man, +armed with British bayonets, and led on by British officers, +shall assert his freedom and wage a war of extermination +against his master. And, though we may not +mock at their calamity nor laugh when their fear cometh, +yet we will hail it as the dawn of a political millennium.”—<i>Joshua +Giddings.</i></p> +<p>“In the alternative being presented of the continuance +of slavery or a dissolution of the Union, we are for a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +dissolution, and we care not how quick it comes.”—<i>Rufus +P. Spaulding.</i></p> +<p>“The fugitive-slave act is filled with horror; we are +bound to disobey this act.”—<i>Charles Sumner.</i></p> +<p>“The <i>Advertiser</i> has no hesitation in saying that it +does not hold to the faithful observance of the fugitive-slave +law of 1850.”—<i>Portland Advertiser.</i></p> +<p>“I have no doubt but the free and slave States ought +to be separated. * * * The Union is not worth +supporting in connection with the South.”—<i>Horace +Greeley.</i></p> +<p>“The times demand and we must have an anti-slavery +Constitution, an anti-slavery Bible, and an anti-slavery +God.”—<i>Anson P. Burlingame.</i></p> +<p>“There is merit in the Republican party. It is this: +It is the first sectional party ever organized in this country. +* * * It is not national; it is sectional. It is +the North arrayed against the South. * * * The +first crack in the iceberg is visible; you will yet hear it +go with a crack through the center.”—<i>Wendell Phillips.</i></p> +<p>“The cure prescribed for slavery by Redpath is the only +infallible remedy, and men must foment insurrection +among the slaves in order to cure the evils. It can never +be done by concessions and compromises. It is a great +evil, and must be extinguished by still greater ones. It +is positive and imperious in its approaches, and must be +overcome with equally positive forces. You must commit +an assault to arrest a burglar, and slavery is not arrested +without a violation of law and the cry of fire.”—<i>Independent +Democrat</i>, leading Republican paper in New +Hampshire.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_UNION_VS_A_UNION' id='THE_UNION_VS_A_UNION'></a> +<h3>THE UNION VS. A UNION</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Early in the war a son of the Emerald Isle, but not +himself green, was taken prisoner not far from Manassas +Junction. In a word, Pat was taking a quiet nap in the +shade; and was aroused from his slumber by a Confederate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +scouting party. He wore no special uniform of +either army, but looked more like a spy than an alligator +and on this was arrested.</p> +<p>“Who are you?” “What is your name?” and “Where +are you from?” were the first questions put to him by +the armed party.</p> +<p>Pat rubbed his eyes, scratched his head, and answered: +“Be me faith, gintlemen, them is ugly questions to +answer, anyhow; and before I answer any of them, I +be after axing yo, by yer lave, the same thing.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the leader, “we are out of Scott’s army +and belong to Washington.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Pat. “I knowed ye was a gintleman, +for I am that same. Long life to General Scott.”</p> +<p>“Ah ha!” replied the scout. “Now you rascal, you +are our prisoner,” and seized him by the shoulder.</p> +<p>“How is that,” inquired Pat, “are we not friends?”</p> +<p>“No,” was the answer; “we belong to General Beauregard’s +army.”</p> +<p>“Then ye tould me a lie, me boys, and thinking it +might be so, I told you another. An’ now tell me the +truth, an’ I’ll tell you the truth too.”</p> +<p>“Well, we belong to the State of South Carolina.”</p> +<p>“So do I,” promptly responded Pat, “and to all the +other States uv the country, too, and there I am thinking, +I hate the whole uv ye. Do ye think I would come all +the way from Ireland to belong to one State when I have +a right to belong to the whole of ’em?”</p> +<p>This logic was rather a stumper; but they took him +up, as before said, and carried him for further examination.</p> +<p>This Irishman’s unionism is a fair sample of what +sometimes passes in this country as broad patriotism. +“We don’t believe in so much State and State’s right. +We want a nation and we want it spelt with a big N.” +This is the merest twaddle. From the very nature of +the formation of our government there can be no organized +Nation. Alexander Hamilton wrote, “The State +governments are essentially necessary to the form and +spirit of the general system. * * * They can never +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +lose their powers till the whole of America are robbed +of their liberties.” It is a Union of States and can be +made nothing else. Bancroft, the great historian, says: +“But for Staterights the Union would perish from the +paralysis of its limbs. The States, as they gave life to +the Union, are necessary to the continuance of that life.”</p> +<p>Madison wrote as follows: “The assent and ratification +of the people, not as individuals composing the entire nation, +but as composing the distinct and independent +States to which they belong, are the sources of the Constitution. +It is therefore not a National but a Federal compact.”</p> +<p>The Irishman could only belong to the “whole of ’em” +by belonging to one of them. No man can love all the +other States without loving his own State. A Swiss +loves Schwyz or Unterwalden or some other canton +before he loves the Confederation of Cantons. The loyal +Scotchmen love Scotland before they love the British Empire. +The Union man loves the Union through his immediate +part of Union. Daniel Webster loved the +Union, but his speeches show how he loved Massachusetts +first. Calhoun loved the Union, but he loved it as +a Federal Union with his beloved Carolina. Many of +the best people of the North loved their several States +and in loyalty to them took sides against the South.</p> +<p>The Southern people, Whigs and Democrats, were devoted +to the Union of the fathers as long as it was a +reality. But as soon as they realized that it had become +only a confederation of the Northern majority States, +with the protecting features of the old Constitution directly +discarded, the love for their own States led them +heart and soul into the Confederate cause. Our Irishman +might be satisfied with A Union, but nothing but +THE Union of the fathers could satisfy Southern men. +They loved the definite Union of 1789; they fought the +indefinite Union of 1861. The former was a union on +a Constitution without a flag; the latter was a mere sentimental +union under a flag without a Constitution. The +Constitution had been thrown away.</p> +<p>The writer’s father, a plain old farmer-merchant of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +Alabama, was a fair specimen of the staunchest Southern +Union man. A Whig all his life, he almost adored +Henry Clay and idolized the Union. The great old Union +paper, the <i>National Intelligencer</i>, of Washington City, +was his political Bible, and he made it follow his son all +through school and college. Like all other Whigs, he +believed in the right of secession, but did not think +the time had come for such a step. He opposed +with all his might the secession of Alabama. But when +it was an accomplished fact, he wrote sadly to his son, +who was then a student in a foreign land:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Alabama has seceded. She has the right to do so, but I didn’t +want her to exercise it. I belong to my State, and I secede with +her. And I know the other States have no right to coerce her. +My son, your old father is like a Tennessee hog, he can be tolled, +but he can’t be driven.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Savoyard tells us truly that no State embraced secession +with more reluctance than North Carolina, and yet +no State supported the Southern cause with more heroism +or fortitude. When the news flashed over the wires that +President Lincoln had issued a call for volunteers to +coerce the sovereign Southern States, Zebulon B. Vance +was addressing an immense audience, pleading for the +Union and opposing the Confederacy. His hand was +raised aloft in appealing gesture when the fatal tidings +came, and in relating the incident to a New England +audience a quarter of a century later, he said:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>When my hand came down from that impassioned gesticulation +it fell slowly and sadly by the side of a secessionist. I immediately, +with altered voice and manner, called upon the assembled multitude +to volunteer, not to fight against but for South Carolina. If war +must come, I preferred to be with my own people. If we had to +shed blood I preferred to shed Northern rather than Southern +blood.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>North Carolina took her favorite son at his word, +turned secessionist with him, and volunteered for the +conflict.</p> +<p>Robert E. Lee felt in Virginia just like Zeb Vance felt +in North Carolina. The women of the South were the +women of Lee and Vance and Alex. Stephens and Judah +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +P. Benjamin, Charles J. Jenkins and Ben Hill. They +loved the Union, but when it was gone, they, with their +States, opposed what, to them, was only a Union of invading, +coercing States.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“We were not the first to break the peace</p> +<p class='indent2'>That blessed our happy land;</p> +<p>We loved the quiet calm and ease,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Too well to raise a hand,</p> +<p>Till fierce oppression stronger grew,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And bitter were your sneers.</p> +<p>Then to our land we must be true,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or show a coward’s fears!</p> +<p>We loved our banner while it waved</p> +<p class='indent2'>An emblem of our Union.</p> +<p>The fiercest dangers we had braved</p> +<p class='indent2'>To guard that sweet communion.</p> +<p>But when it proved that ‘stripes’ alone</p> +<p class='indent2'>Were for our Sunny South,</p> +<p>And all the ‘stars’ in triumph shone</p> +<p class='indent2'>Above the chilly North,</p> +<p>Then, not till then, our voices rose</p> +<p class='indent2'>In one tumultuous wave:</p> +<p>‘We will the tyranny oppose,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or find a bloody grave.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>It was Southern devotion to the Union which led so +many men of Kentucky and Tennessee into the Federal +army. It was the same traditional love for the Union +of the fathers that held back Virginia and the other +border States from secession too long. It led them to +make the mistake of the crisis. The writer, like nearly +all the Southern men of his ultra Unionism, at the time +thought South Carolina made the mistake of too much +haste in her secession. He does not think so now. He +has not thought so since calmly and thoroughly studying +the history of those times.</p> +<p>The new party in the North was in a triumphant majority +and was determined to deprive the minority States +of the South of their share in the government. Delay +on the part of Southern border States did no good. It +did harm. It misled the Northern people as to the true +feeling in Virginia and the other border States. Had +they all seceded on the same day with South Carolina +there would have been no war.</p> +<p>Now that the Northern people, through the broad, +patriotic administrations of Cleveland, McKinley and +Roosevelt, have restored the Union, and Florida is again +a coequal State with New York, and Texans once more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +fellow-citizens with Pennsylvanians, what section shows +more loyalty to the Union and the common country than +the South?</p> +<p>Our patriot mothers and grandmothers of 1860 loved +the Union. Those who yet survive, and their children, +love the Union in 1905. No State is under the ban now. +The captured battle flags of Confederate States have been +restored to the States by a Republican Congress. The +Federal government volunteers to take care of Confederate +soldiers’ graves. President, and Congress and Army +and Navy follow General Wheeler’s coffin to an honored +grave. A Republican President publicly avows his attachment +to Confederate veterans and shows his faith by +his appointments. Thank God, our Union to-day is +again <i>the</i> Union of equal States.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_NORTHERN_STATES_SECEDE_FROM_THE_UNION' id='THE_NORTHERN_STATES_SECEDE_FROM_THE_UNION'></a> +<h3>THE NORTHERN STATES SECEDE FROM THE UNION</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The denial of the equal rights of the Southern States in +the public territorial domain, and the nullification by the +Northern States of the acts of Congress and the decisions +of the Supreme Court on territorial questions, and the +formation and triumph of a party pledged to hostility to +the South, were not the only considerations that convinced +the Southern States that their only honorable +course lay in secession. The compact of the written Constitution +was the only Union that had existed. A breach +or repudiation of that compact was a breach of the Union. +It was secession without its name.</p> +<p>In 1850, after a violent sectional agitation, which +shook the country, over the admission of California as a +free State, a compromise measure, proposed by Mr. Clay +and advocated by Webster and Calhoun, was adopted by +Congress. It was known as the “omnibus bill.” It provided, +among other things, that California should be a +free State; that the slave trade should be abolished in +the District of Columbia, and that slaves escaping from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +their owners, from one State into another, could be arrested +anywhere and returned to their owners. Article +four, section two of the Federal Constitution makes this +provision in the plainest of terms. It was similar to the +New England Fugitive Slave law of 1643 enacted by +Massachusetts, Connecticut, Plymouth and New Haven. +Mr. Webster in his great speech in Faneuil Hall in Boston, +in defense of his vote for the “omnibus bill,” read +the words of the Constitution and showed that the fugitive +slave section of the omnibus bill was almost a literal +reiteration of the constitutional provision.</p> +<p>The majority of the Northern States repudiated this +feature of the act of Congress and declared that it should +not be enforced. Here was the boldest nullification, the +most direct breaking up of the old Union. Here was the +arch rebellion of the century. The question was not +what should be done with the fugitive slaves, but whether +the Northern States would do what, in the Constitution, +they had agreed to do. The South waited for +the Northern States to revoke such a flagrant disregard +of their rights under the Constitution and such a bold repudiation +of the original terms of Union. Patriotic little +Rhode Island did rescind her action in the matter, but +she was alone. Most of the other States had become desperate +in their hostility to the South and, when the South, +seeing all hope of justice, all vestige of the old Union, all +prospect of peace, hopelessly gone, resorted to quiet, +peaceable withdrawal from these domineering States, +the resolution was formed and carried out by the party +in power, to subjugate the Southern States to the will of +the majority States, and keep them in what was called the +Union against their will.</p> +<p>The South in seceding made no threat, and contemplated +no attempt to invade a Northern State in pursuit +of slaves, but simply sought to sever all connection with +the States and people who were so determined to ignore +her rights, and who nullified their own plighted terms of +union. She did not secede in the interest of slavery nor +for the purpose of war. The Southern States seceded +to take care of the fragments of a broken Union. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +Slavery, it is true, was the occasion of the rupture. +Peaceable secession on the one hand and coercion on the +other was the issue of the war. Emancipation was +adopted as a war measure two years later by the Northern +administration and finally consummated in 1865 as a +punitive measure to further crush the conquered South. +Such was the public opinion at the time of the fall of Fort +Sumter that not a regiment could have been raised at the +North to invade Virginia if it had been distinctly called +out for the purpose of setting the negroes free. Fanatics +by the thousands made a demigod of the murderous John +Brown, but it was not fanatics who were in control at +Washington. It was the politicians, not working from +humanitarian sentiment, true or false, but impelled by a +determination to cripple the South and break up her controlling +influence in national politics,—a preeminence +which had existed from the first days of the government. +The politicians shrewdly employed the anti-slavery excitement +to gain power for themselves and especially to +aggravate the South into secession, and then, smothering +every whisper of war for the freedom of the negroes, they +raised the rallying cry of “Save the Union” and marshalled +the Northern hosts for subjugation. President +Davis justly said to a self-constituted umpire visiting him +in Richmond, “We are not fighting for slavery; we are +fighting for independence. The war will go on unless +you acknowledge our right to self-government.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='FRENZIED_FINANCE_AND_THE_WAR_OF_1861' id='FRENZIED_FINANCE_AND_THE_WAR_OF_1861'></a> +<h3>FRENZIED FINANCE AND THE WAR OF 1861</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Was the war between the States in 1861 a war in +behalf of slavery on the one side and freedom on the +other? Not at all. After all the noisy and fanatical agitation +on the subject, only a small minority of the Northern +people had expressed any desire to have the negroes +of the South emancipated at that time, and no State nor +people of the South had said that slavery should be perpetual. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +All the parties which in 1860 cast any electoral +votes distinctly disavowed any intention to interfere with +slavery where it existed. This was the declaration even +of the Republican party which was triumphant and was +now in power. Mr. Lincoln, the President-elect, repeatedly +declared that slavery was not to be disturbed in the +States, although he said the country could not remain +“half slave and half free.” Here, then, the North and +the South were thoroughly agreed that slavery within +the States should continue undisturbed. As to emancipation, +both sections of the country and all parties except +the ultra-Abolitionists were pro-slavery. The Abolitionists +admitted that under the Federal Constitution +there could be no power in the national government to +free the slaves. They cursed and burned the Constitution +as “a compact with the devil and a league with hell,” +and defiantly repudiated all laws which carried out its +provisions. Under the plea of what they called “higher +law,” they defied law. They were really anarchists. +The Free Soil party, which had assumed the name of +Republican for party purposes, secretly encouraged the +Abolitionists in their mad crusade and welcomed their +votes, but persistently disavowed their aims. All rational +men knew that the time had not come to turn loose +millions of half-civilized Africans in this country; while +many, North and South, deplored the existence of slavery +and would not advocate it in the abstract, yet they believed +that emancipation was not best for the negro and +would be accompanied by tremendous peril to the white +people. The truth is that the Abolitionists of the North +kept up such a blatant and fanatical agitation against the +South that it was out of the question, in the excitement of +the times, for conservative men, North or South, to think +or speak of such an alternative as the immediate freedom +of the negroes.</p> +<p>The Republican party, now the dominant party, and its +leader, Mr. Lincoln, stood against the immediate freedom +of the slaves. But this party had come into power +on two ground principles which made its triumph a direct +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +attack on the rights and interests of the Southern +States in the Territories.</p> +<p>It gloried in its free-soil doctrine, which was a declaration +that the Southern States should no longer enjoy +their share in the Territories of the government. It never +mounted the steed of abolitionism until 1862 when the +emancipation of the slaves was adopted as a war measure, +and was so declared by Mr. Lincoln himself. In defiance +of the decisions of the Supreme Court, the triumphant +party held that Congress should not allow the Southern +people the right to take their slave property, although +distinctly recognized as property by the Constitution, into +the Territories. The Northern legislatures deliberately +defied the Supreme Court and its people denounced it +and reiterated their free soil demand. Of course this +was a direct insult to the South and a public outlawry of +the South that no self-respecting people ought to submit +to. The Territories were common property to all the +States. The South held that while they were Territories +the Southern people had as much right to enter and enjoy +them as the people of the North, but the South was +always willing that the people of the Territory, +in organizing a State government, should decide +for themselves as a State whether it should be +admitted as a slave or free State. The new +party declared that under no circumstances should +another slave State be admitted. The territorial demands +of the new party had been endorsed by the +formal acts of a majority of Northern States in their +legislatures. The catch-word of the new party was “no +more extension of slavery.” The South had never +brought a slave into the country, and never did propose +to add another slave to it, but its rights in the common +property of the Union it could not surrender to the dictation +of the more numerous and populous Northern States.</p> +<p>Then what? Declare war? No. Simply fall back +on the right of original sovereignty, on their several Constitutional +rights, as the people of New England, when +they were in the minority, had threatened to do, and +withdraw from the Union with States who declared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +so distinctly a purpose not to abide by the terms of +Union. Then came secession, the only peaceable remedy. +In it the South made no claim on territorial or other +property. In fact, it was a voluntary surrender of everything +not on its own soil to the remaining States. It was +old Abraham’s alternative to Lot. “Let there be no +strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my +herdsmen and thy herdsmen, for we be brethren. Is not +the whole land before thee? Separate thyself, I pray +thee, from me; If thou wilt take the left hand, then I will +go to the right; or if thou depart to the right hand, then +I will go to the left.” Then why should there be war? +Indeed, why?</p> +<p>So natural and just was the step of secession that the +more enlightened and conscientious Abolitionists conceded +the right of South Carolina to withdraw from the +Union. Horace Greeley, the powerful editor of the +great Abolition organ, the New York <i>Tribune</i>, boldly +protested against any interference with her departure. +Wendell Phillips, the great lawyer and Abolition orator +of Boston, said in a public speech: “Deck her brow with +flowers, pave her way with gold, and let her go.” But +Greeley and Phillips were not the politicians nor the party +in control of the country. We have shown how the +Free Soil aim of the triumphant party led the Northern +States to adopt such a course as really to drive the Southern +States into secession. What was the main spring of +the Free Soil crusade? This brings us to tell in one +word what brought on the war. What was the ground +issue which held the Northern States so desperately on +their crusade against the South? It was the “tariff.” +New England ideas dominated the thought of the North +and Northwest, and it was always a ruling New England +idea to get all money possible from the government. +New England never lost sight of business, and especially +her own business interests. It was only by Virginia’s +surrender of her vast territories that New England could +be brought into the Union and it took subsidies, appropriations +for internal improvement, and fishing and tariff +bounties to keep her in it.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></div> +<p>Very soon she set up a persistent demand for high duties +on imports to assist in building up her increasing +manufactures. The moderate protective tariffs of the +twenties, the tariff of Henry Clay, did not satisfy her. +Her cry up to the final passage of the trust-breeding +Dingley tariff bill of our day has been that of the horse +leech, “Give! give!” The Southern States were agricultural +and the prevailing doctrine as to tariff duties was +a “tariff for revenue only.” The old Southern Whigs, +like Clay, only favored a moderate protective tariff as a +compromise sop to New England in behalf of her infant +industries. But New England was not satisfied with the +tariff of the twenties. A little taste of incidental protection +had only increased her greed. In the thirties she +demanded more. The tariff of 1832 was enacted and +proved such a heavy tax on the consumers for the benefit +of the manufacturers that South Carolina took the bold +stand of nullification against it. By the combined efforts +of Clay and Calhoun a compromise was effected and the +tariff modified and the country saved. In 1846 the moderate +Walker tariff, the “free-trade tariff,” was adopted +and under it the people of all classes and all sections enjoyed +more general prosperity up to 1861 than the country +has ever before or since seen.</p> +<p>But New England “frenzied finance” was at work. +The taste for public pap had grown by what it fed on. +The “almighty dollar” idea in politics was sweeping the +North. The <i>auri sacra fames</i> had formed a league with +a fanatical sectional party. The seed sowing was over; +the harvest of financial politics had come. New England +must have a higher tariff and votes from agricultural +States meant more anti-tariff votes and the tariff advocates +decreed that there should be no slave States carved +out of the Territories. To secure this the Southern +people with their property must be excluded from the +occupancy of the Territorial soil. Frenzied finance +triumphed, and in the election of Mr. Lincoln the North +declared the national territory forbidden ground to the +South. Free soil exclusion from their property was +openly flaunted in the face of the slave States.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></div> +<p>What could the Southern States do under such an insulting +ultimatum from the triumphant North? What +did they do? Why, they simply fell back on their original +right of State sovereignty and, as the North had already +broken the Union, peaceably seceded from it.</p> +<p>Then why not, as Greeley and Phillips and thousands +of Northern patriots urged, why not let these States go? +Frenzied Finance replied in the words of Mr. Lincoln, +“If we let the South go, where will we get our revenues?” +There it is. They were needed to furnish their cotton +and their trade to support the North. It was the frenzied +Pharoah of finance that refused to let tribute-paying, +brick-making Israel go. Hence the war of subjugation.</p> +<p>It is a grotesque and sad bit of history that while +patriots like Crittenden, of Kentucky, Bayard, of Delaware, +Black, of Pennsylvania and Seymour, of New +York, were anxiously trying to avert war and save the old +Union, while the whole world was watching with bated +breath the storm gathering around Fort Sumter, the +party of frenzied finance, now in control of Congress, +defiantly discarded all propositions of peace compromise +and concentrated all its mighty energies on the passage +of its darling Morrill Tariff Bill. The Morrill tariff +bill was enacted April 2, 1861. Fort Sumter fell April +14, 1861. There is the record of cold-blood-money worship. +It was not Nero “fiddling while Rome was burning” +but it was the legislators of the great American +Republic fiddling on a scheme for the financial gain of +private business while the glorious Union that we loved +and our fathers loved was falling to pieces! The laborer’s +groans, the widow’s sobs, the roar of cannon and the +crash of States could not drown the mad New England +cry for private subsidy from the public treasury.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_RIGHT_OF_SECESSION' id='THE_RIGHT_OF_SECESSION'></a> +<h3>THE RIGHT OF SECESSION</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 31, pages 87-88.]</p> +<p>It may not be amiss, however, to call attention to the +fact that the North already admits that the people of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +South were honest in their contentions, and that they at +least thought they were right. Furthermore, it is even +conceded that the South was not without great support +for its contentions from legal, moral and historical points +of view. For instance, Professor Goldwin, of Canada, +an Englishman, a distinguished historian, resident of +and sympathizing with the North during the civil war, +recently said:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Few who have looked into the history can doubt that the Union +originally was, and was generally taken by the parties to it to be, a +compact; dissoluble, perhaps most of them would have said, at +pleasure, dissoluble certainly on breach of the articles of Union.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>To the same effect, but in even stronger terms, are the +words of Mr. Henry Cabot Lodge, now a Senator from +Massachusetts, who said in one of his historic works:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>When the Constitution was adopted by the votes of States at +Philadelphia, and accepted by the votes of States in popular conventions, +it is safe to say that there was not a man in the country +from Washington and Hamilton on the one side to George Clinton +and George Mason on the other, who regarded the new system as +anything but an experiment entered upon by the States and from +which each and every State had the right peaceably to withdraw, a +right which was very likely to be exercised.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As far back as 1887, General Thomas C. Ewing, of +Ohio, said in a speech in New York:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The North craves a living and lasting peace with the South; it +also asks no humiliating conditions; it recognizes the fact that the +proximate cause of the war was the constitutional question of the +right of secession—a question which, until it was settled by the war, +had neither a right side nor a wrong side to it. Our forefathers in +framing the Constitution purposely left the question unsettled; to +have settled it distinctly in the Constitution would have been to +prevent the formation of the Union of the thirteen States. They, +therefore, committed that question to the future, and the war came +on and settled it forever. And, right here, let me say that the South +has accepted that settlement in good faith, and will forever abide +by it as loyally as the North, although we will never admit that our +people were wrong in making the contest.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This question was calmly and logically discussed by +Mr. Charles Francis Adams in a late speech delivered in +Charleston, S. C., when he said:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>When the Federal Constitution was framed and adopted, “an indestructible +union of imperishable States,” what was the law of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +treason, to what or to whom in case of final issue did the average +citizen own allegiance? Was it to the Union or to his State? As a +practical question, seeing things as they were then—sweeping aside +all incontrovertible legal arguments and metaphysical disquisitions—I +do not think the answer admits of doubt. If put in 1788, or indeed +at any time anterior to 1825, the immediate reply of nine men out of +ten in the Northern States, and ninety-nine out of a hundred in the +Southern States, would have been that, as between the Union and +the State, ultimate allegiance was due to the State.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_CAUSE_NOT_LOST' id='THE_CAUSE_NOT_LOST'></a> +<h3>THE CAUSE NOT LOST</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Memorial Day, pages 30-31.]</p> +<p>A few weeks ago Dr. E. Benjamin Andrews, president +of Brown University, a leading institution of learning in +a New England State, in a lecture delivered in the city +of New Orleans upon the life and character of the General +of the Confederate armies, uttered this language:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>People are prone to allude to all Lee fought for as the “Lost +Cause.” Yet, like Oliver Cromwell, Lee has accomplished what he +fought for, and more than could have been accomplished had he +been victorious. At the close of the war we find the Supreme Court +of the United States deciding the status of individual States, and +the result is found to be that while the Union is declared to be indestructible, +each State is regarded as an indestructible unit of that +nation. Who would dare to wipe out to-day a State’s individuality? +And do we not find to-day, instead of centralized power in Congress +adjudicating things pertaining to the States, the States themselves +settling these matters?</p> +<p>Inasmuch as the war brought out these utterances with regard +to the States of the Union upon matters then in question, who can +say that Lee fought in vain?</p> +</blockquote> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SLAVERY_AS_THE_SOUTH_SAW_IT' id='SLAVERY_AS_THE_SOUTH_SAW_IT'></a> +<h3>SLAVERY AS THE SOUTH SAW IT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Vice-President Alexander H. Stephens, in War Between the States, page 539.]</p> +<p>The matter of slavery, so called, which was the proximate +cause of these irregular movements on both sides, +and which ended in the general collision of war, was of +infinitely less importance to the seceding States than the +recognition of the great principles of constitutional liberty. +There was with us no such thing as slavery in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +true and proper sense of that word. No people ever +lived more devoted to the principles of liberty, secured +by free democratic institutions, than were the people of +the South. None had ever given stronger proofs of this +than they had done. What was called slavery amongst +us was but a legal subordination of the African to the +Caucasian race. This relation was so regulated by law +as to promote, according to the intent and design of the +system, the best interests of both races, the black as well +as the white, the inferior as well as the superior. Both +had rights secured and both had duties imposed. It was +a system of reciprocal service and mutual bonds. But +even the two thousand million dollars invested in the +relations thus established between private capital and the +labor of this class of population under system, was but +the dust in the balance compared with the vital attributes +of the rights of independence and sovereignty on the +part of the several States.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='VINDICATION_OF_SOUTHERN_CAUSE' id='VINDICATION_OF_SOUTHERN_CAUSE'></a> +<h3>VINDICATION OF SOUTHERN CAUSE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, pages 332-336.]</p> +<p>Mr. Percy Greg, the justly famous English historian, +says: “If the Colonies were entitled to judge their own +cause, much more were the Southern States. Their +rights—not implied, assumed, or traditional, like those +of the Colonies, but expressly defined and solemnly +guaranteed by law—had been flagrantly violated; the +compact which alone bound them, had beyond question +been systematically broken for more than forty years +by the States which appealed to it.”</p> +<p>After showing the perfect regularity and legality of +the secession movement, he then says: “It was in defence +of this that the people of the South sprang to arms +‘to defend their homes and families, their property and +their rights, the honor and independence of their States +to the last, against five fold numbers and resources a hundred +fold greater than theirs.’”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></div> +<p>He says of the cause of the North: “The cause seems +to me as bad as it well could be—the determination of a +mere numerical majority to enforce a bond, which they +themselves had flagrantly violated, to impose their own +mere arbitrary will, their idea of national greatness, upon +a distinct, independent, determined, and almost unanimous +people.”</p> +<p>And then he says as Lord Russell did: “The North +fought for empire which was not and never had been +hers; the South for an independence she had won by +the sword, and had enjoyed in law and fact ever since +the recognition of the thirteen sovereign and independent +States, if not since the foundation of Virginia. Slavery +was but the occasion of the rupture, in no sense the object +of the war.”</p> +<p>Let me add a statement which will be confirmed by +every veteran before me—no man ever saw a Virginia +soldier who was fighting for slavery.</p> +<p>This letter then speaks of the conduct of the Northern +people as “unjust, aggressive, contemptuous of law and +right,” and as presenting a striking contrast to the +“boundless devotion, uncalculating sacrifice, magnificent +heroism, and unrivalled endurance of the Southern +people.”</p> +<p>But I must pass on to what a distinguished Northern +writer has to say of the people of the South, and their +cause, twenty-one years after the close of the war. The +writer is Benjamin J. Williams, Esq., of Lowell, Mass., +and the occasion which brought forth this paper (addressed +to the Lowell <i>Sun</i>) was the demonstration to President +Davis when he went to assist in the dedication of +a Confederate monument at Montgomery, Ala. He says +of Mr. Davis:</p> +<p>“Everywhere he receives from the people the most +overwhelming manifestations of heartfelt affection, devotion, +and reverence, exceeding even any of which +he was the recipient in the time of its power; such manifestations +as no existing ruler in the world can obtain +from his people, and such as probably were never given +before to a public man, old, out of office, with no favors +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +to dispense, and disfranchised. Such homage is significant; +it is startling. It is given, as Mr. Davis himself +has recognized, not to him alone, but to the cause whose +chief representative he is, and it is useless to attempt to +deny, disguise, or evade the conclusion that there must +be something great and noble and true in him and in the +cause to evoke this homage.”</p> +<p>Mr. Davis, in his speech on the occasion referred to, +alluded to the fact that the monument then being erected +was to commemorate the deeds of those “who gave their +lives a free-will offering in defence of the rights of their +sires, won in the war of the Revolution, the State sovereignty, +freedom and independence which were left to us +as an inheritance to their posterity forever.”</p> +<p>Mr. Williams says of this definition: “These masterful +words, ‘the rights of their sires, won in the war of the +Revolution, the State sovereignty, freedom and independence +which were left to us an inheritance to their posterity +forever,’ are the whole case, and they are not only +a statement but a complete justification of the Confederate +cause to all who are acquainted with the origin and character +of the American Union.”</p> +<p>He then proceeds to tell how the Constitution was +adopted and the government formed by the individual +States, each acting for itself, separately and independently +of the others, and then says:</p> +<p>“It appears, then, from this view of the origin and +character of the American Union, that when the Southern +States, deeming the constitutional compact broken, and +their own safety and happiness in imminent danger in the +Union, withdrew therefrom and organized their new Confederacy, +they but asserted, in the language of Mr. Davis, +the rights of their sires, won in the war of the Revolution, +the State sovereignty, freedom, and independence, which +were left to us as an inheritance to their posterity forever,’ +and it was in defence of this high and sacred cause that +the Confederate soldiers sacrificed their lives. There was +no need of war. The action of the Southern States was +legal and constitutional, and history will attest that it +was reluctantly taken in the extremity.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></div> +<p>He now goes on to show how Mr. Lincoln precipitated +the war, and describes the unequal struggle in which the +South was engaged in these words: “After a glorious +four years’ struggle against such odds as have been depicted, +during which independence was often almost secured, +where successive levies of armies, amounting in all +to nearly three millions of men, had been hurled against +her, the South, shut off from all the world, wasted, rent, +and desolate, bruised and bleeding, was at last overpowered +by main strength; out-fought, never; for from +first to last, she everywhere out-fought the foe. The Confederacy +fell, but she fell not until she had achieved immortal +fame. Few great established nations in all time +have ever exhibited capacity and direction in government +equal to hers, sustained as she was by the iron will and +fixed persistence of the extraordinary man who was her +chief; and few have ever won such a series of brilliant +victories as that which illuminates forever the annals of +her splendid armies, while the fortitude and patience of +her people, and particularly of her noble women, under +almost incredible trials and sufferings, have never been +surpassed in the history of the world.”</p> +<p>And then he adds: “Such exalted character and +achievement are not all in vain. Though the Confederacy +fell, as an actual physical power, she lives, illustrated +by them, eternally in her just cause—the cause of +constitutional liberty.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='NORTHERN_VIEW_OF_SECESSION' id='NORTHERN_VIEW_OF_SECESSION'></a> +<h3>NORTHERN VIEW OF SECESSION</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Charles L. C. Minor’s Real Lincoln.]</p> +<p>W. H. Russell, the famous correspondent of the <i>London +Times</i>, in his diary (page 13) quotes Bancroft, the +historian, afterwards Minister to England, for the opinion, +in 1860, that the United States had no authority to +coerce the people of the South; and Russell reports the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +same opinion prevailing in March, 1861, in New York +and in Washington.</p> +<p>The life of Charles Francis Adams, Lincoln’s Minister +to England, says that up to the very day of the firing on +the flag the attitude of the Northern States, even in case +of hostilities, was open to grave question, while that of +the border States did not admit of a doubt; that Mr. +Seward, the member of the President’s Cabinet, repudiated +not only the right but the wish even to use armed +force in subjugating the Southern States.</p> +<p>Morse’s Lincoln (Volume I, page 131) makes the following +remarkable statement: “Greeley and Seward and +Wendell Phillips, representative men, were little better +than secessionists. The statement sounds ridiculous, yet +the proof against each one comes from his own mouth. +The <i>Tribune</i> had retracted none of these disunion sentiments +of which examples have been given.”</p> +<p>Even so late as April 10, 1861, Seward wrote officially +to Charles Francis Adams, Minister to England:</p> +<p>“Only an imperial and despotic government could subjugate +thoroughly disaffected and insurrectionary members +of the State.”</p> +<p>On April 9th, the rumor of a fight at Sumter being +spread abroad, Wendell Phillips said:</p> +<p>“Here are a series of States girding the gulf who think +that their peculiar institutions require that they should +have a separate government; they have a right to decide +the question without appealing to you and to me. * * * +Standing with the principles of ’76 behind us, who +can deny them that right?”</p> +<p>Woodrow Wilson’s Division and Reunion says (page +214) that President Buchanan agreed with the Attorney +General (Hon. Jere Black, of Pennsylvania) that there +was no constitutional means for coercing a State (as his +last message shows beyond a doubt) and adds that such +for the time seemed to be the general opinion of the country.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MAJOR_J_SCHEIBERT_OF_THE_PRUSSIAN_ARMY_ON_CONFEDER' id='MAJOR_J_SCHEIBERT_OF_THE_PRUSSIAN_ARMY_ON_CONFEDER'></a> +<h3>MAJOR J. SCHEIBERT (OF THE PRUSSIAN ARMY) ON CONFEDERATE HISTORY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Southern Historical Papers, Volume 18, pages 425-428.]</p> +<h4><i>Tariff</i></h4> +<p>Besides the differences of race and religion, nature +itself, through the varied geographical position of the +States, had created relations of varied character that not +only must conflict ensue, but the least law affecting the +whole Union often aroused diametrically and sharply +opposed interests; the consequences of which were to +embitter sectional opinions to an intolerable degree.</p> +<p>When the North demanded tariff protection for their +industries as against European competition, the Southern +States insisted upon free trade, so as not to be compelled +to buy costly products of the North. The New England +States strove for concentration of power in the national +government; the Southerners believed that the independence +of the individual States must be maintained, and +when the Southerners demanded protection for their +labor, which was performed by imported negroes, the +North answered with evasion of the laws, while, in direct +opposition to these laws, it denied to the master the right +to his escaped negroes. From any point of view, there +existed, and exist to-day, interests almost irreconcilably +opposed, which make it difficult for the most earnest +student of American affairs to find a clew in such a +tangled labyrinth. The difficulty in the present undertaking +is to make good the fact that the so-called Confederates, +who have been by almost all the German +writers represented as “Rebels,” stood firm upon a +ground of right of law.</p> +<p>If the central government at Washington was the sovereign +power, then the (Southern) States were in the +wrong, and their citizens were simply rebels. If, on +the other hand, the individual States were separate and +sovereign political bodies, then their secession, independent +of consideration of expediency or selfishness, was a +politically justifiable withdrawal from a previous limited +alliance; and in this case it was the duty of citizens of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +the States to go with their States. As a proper consequence +of these different views, the Federals considered +as a traitor every citizen who opposed the central government, +however his individual State may have determined; +while the Confederates, after the declaration of war on +the part of the Union, looked on the Federalists indeed +as enemies, but considered as traitors only those citizens +who, in opposition to the vote of their States, yet adhered +to the Union. * * * * Instead of inquiring into +emotion and sympathies, the question is an historical one +as to the origin of the Union; that is, to seek in the +founding of the United States in what relation,—at that +time, the States stood to the central government, the mode +of their covenant, and how the relation of the several +States to the common union was developed. The colonies, +therefore, united not because the citizens in general +were oppressed by the British Government, but because +one colony felt, whether rightly or not, that it was oppressed +and insulted as an independent political body. +In the first movement of independence was exhibited +clearly the consciousness that the colonies felt themselves +separate political bodies. Even at that time the assembly +of delegates designated itself “as a congress of twelve +independent political bodies,” and in the Union each of +the colonies issued its separate declaration. When the +delegates of the thirteen colonies met in their first Congress +the first permanent Union was founded; which was +ratified by each colony as a separate body, as one by one +they entered the Union.</p> +<h4><i>Slavery</i></h4> +<p>With the question as to the origin of the war, the +enemies of the South have mingled another—the slavery +question—which strictly does not belong to it. This +slavery question was inscribed on the banners of the war +when it was seen that thereby could be enlisted on the +side of the North the sympathies of the old world, and of +a great part of their own inhabitants, especially of the +German immigrants. This question could never legally +be the cause of the war, for the Constitution expressly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +says that the question of slavery should be regulated by +the State legislatures. * * * * At the time of the +founding of the Union, eleven of the thirteen States were +slave-holding, and it is a remarkable fact that it then +occurred to no writer nor humanitarian in America or +Europe even to think that this ownership (of slaves) was +a wrong or a crime. It is enough to say that the institution +was accepted not only as a matter of course, but +that it was also especially protected, the farming interest +being granted an increased suffrage in proportion to the +number of negroes on their plantations. * * * * * +Even in the last days, before the outbreak of war, when +the press and demagogues raised the slavery question in +order to inflame the masses, the statesman (of the North) +carefully avoided such a blunder, since the slavery question +was not the ground of the war, and could not be proclaimed +as such.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_MATER_REDIVIVA' id='CHAPTER_VI_MATER_REDIVIVA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI +<span class='chsub'> <br />MATER REDIVIVA</span></h2> +</div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='INTRODUCTORY_NOTE' id='INTRODUCTORY_NOTE'></a> +<h3>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>For twenty years after the close of the war most of +the Southern States, through the bayonet-enforced +amendments to the Constitution and the carpet-bag negro +governments established under them, were kept under +military rule. The men met the awful responsibility and +their hideous trials with an amazing courage and sought +to counteract, in every possible way, the work of Congress +at Washington and the work of the Union Leagues and +other secret societies among the negroes at home, and to +build up the South in spite of the demoralization of labor. +The Ku Klux Klan, a secret vigilance committee, did +much good in terrifying the carpet-bag deposits and +breaking up the secret armed midnight meetings of the +negroes. Rowdy imitators of the Ku Klux afterwards +in many instances did much harm.</p> +<p>But the women kept on at work. They have never +faltered, and never shown any weariness. Thousands +left penniless who were once wealthy, took up whatever +work came to hand. The writer knew the daughter-in-law +of a wealthy Congressman and the daughter of a +governor of two States to plow her own garden with a +mule. He saw all over the country the members of the +oldest and wealthiest families of the Atlantic coast teaching +school, even far in the west. Not a murmur escaped +their lips. They cheered each other as they strengthened +the nerves of the men.</p> +<p>But they kept up their work for the Confederate +soldiers, and keep it up to this day. Soldiers’ graves were +everywhere looked after. Memorial associations were +organized all over the South. The two great societies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +of Richmond, the Hollywood and the Oakwood, each +looking after thousands of graves, the names of whose +occupants are unknown, are doing the most sublime work +the world ever saw. The Southern women soon extended +their efforts to building Confederate monuments all +over the South, providing soldiers’ homes in the various +States and securing what pensions the Southern States +could afford. As long as they live they work for the +cause they loved; when they die their spirit lives on in +their worthy daughters.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_EMPTY_SLEEVE' id='THE_EMPTY_SLEEVE'></a> +<h3>THE EMPTY SLEEVE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By Dr. G. W. Bagby.]</p> +<p class='center'>[In Living Writers of the South, pages 28-29.]</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>Tom, old fellow, I grieve to see</p> +<p class='indent2'>That sleeve hanging loose at your side.</p> +<p>The arm you lost was worth to me</p> +<p class='indent2'>Every Yankee that ever died.</p> +<p>But you don’t mind it at all.</p> +<p class='indent2'>You swear you’ve a beautiful stump,</p> +<p>And laugh at the damnable ball.</p> +<p class='indent2'>Tom, I knew you were always a trump!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>A good right arm, a nervy hand,</p> +<p class='indent2'>A wrist as strong as a sapling oak,</p> +<p>Buried deep in the Malvern sand—</p> +<p class='indent2'>To laugh at that is a sorry joke.</p> +<p>Never again your iron grip</p> +<p class='indent2'>Shall I feel in my shrinking palm.</p> +<p>Tom, Tom, I see your trembling lip.</p> +<p class='indent2'>How on earth can I be calm?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Well! the arm is gone, it is true;</p> +<p class='indent2'>But the one nearest the heart</p> +<p>Is left, and that’s as good as two.</p> +<p class='indent2'>Tom, old fellow, what makes you start?</p> +<p>Why, man, she thinks that empty sleeve</p> +<p class='indent2'>A badge of honor; so do I</p> +<p>And all of us,—I do believe</p> +<p class='indent2'>The fellow is going to cry.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“She deserves a perfect man,” you say.</p> +<p class='indent2'>You, “not worth her in your prime.”</p> +<p>Tom, the arm that has turned to clay</p> +<p class='indent2'>Your whole body has made sublime;</p> +<p>For you have placed in the Malvern earth</p> +<p class='indent2'>The proof and the pledge of a noble life,</p> +<p>And the rest, henceforward of higher worth,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Will be dearer than all to your wife.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I see the people in the street</p> +<p class='indent2'>Look at your sleeve with kindling eyes;</p> +<p>And know you, Tom, there’s nought so sweet,</p> +<p class='indent2'>As homage shown in mute surmise.</p> +<p>Bravely your arm in battle strove,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Freely for freedom’s sake you gave it;</p> +<p>It has perished, but a nation’s love</p> +<p class='indent2'>In proud remembrance will save it.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></p> +<p>As I look through the coming years,</p> +<p class='indent2'>I see a one-armed married man;</p> +<p>A little woman, with smiles and tears,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Is helping as hard as she can</p> +<p>To put on his coat, and pin his sleeve,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Tie his cravat, and cut his food,</p> +<p>And I say, as these fancies I weave,</p> +<p class='indent2'>“That is Tom, and the woman he wooed.”</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>The years roll on, and then I see</p> +<p class='indent2'>A wedding picture, bright and fair;</p> +<p>I look closer, and it’s plain to me</p> +<p class='indent2'>That is Tom, with the silver hair.</p> +<p>He gives away the lovely bride,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And the guests linger, loth to leave</p> +<p>The house of him in whom they pride,—</p> +<p class='indent2'>Brave Tom, old Tom, with the empty sleeve.</p> +</div></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_OLD_HOOPSKIRT' id='THE_OLD_HOOPSKIRT'></a> +<h3>THE OLD HOOPSKIRT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The only ante-bellum property which Sherman and +Thad Stevens left the Confederate woman was her old +hoopskirt. They could neither confiscate nor burn, nor +set this free. Like slavery, it was so closely connected +with her life that it cannot be ignored in her history.</p> +<p>The Southern woman always kept well up with the +latest fashions in dress. In the fifties the modistes of +Paris, whose word, however absurd, was law to the +women of the civilized world, sent out the famous hoopskirt. +It was not an article of dress, but a mere contrivance +for sustaining and exhibiting the clothes that +were worn over it. It was made of a succession of small +but strong steel wires bent into circles and fastened to +each other by cross bars of tape. The lower hoop was +usually from four to eight feet in diameter, according +to taste, and the top one but little larger than the woman’s +waist, from which the whole net-work was hung. It held +whatever clothes were put over it in the shape of a church +bell or a horizontal section of a balloon.</p> +<p>Like all new fashions, some carried this one to grotesque +extremes. One of the bon-ton set of Columbia, +S. C., in 1858 was the remarkably beautiful and charming +Mrs. ——, the wife of one of the professors in +South Carolina College. It is a fact that, on average +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +sidewalks in that beautiful city, wherever she was met by +gentlemen they had to step into the street and give the +whole pavement to her tremendous skirt. Most of our +Southern beauties were more merciful.</p> +<p>When the hoopskirt first came, it looked as if Paris +had sent out the greatest of all the absurdities. The men +laughed, the boys jeered, and the newspapers poured out +invectives against the monster. The country preachers +anathematized it and urged its excommunication from +the church. But the hoopskirt came to stay. <i>Veni, vidi, +vici.</i> It whipped the fight, and when the war between +the States came on it was in control of the Southern female +wardrobe. It enlisted for “three years or the war.” +It clung to our mothers like Ruth to Naomi. “Entreat +me not to leave thee, or to return from following after +thee; for whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou +lodgest I will lodge.” It proved a godsend on account +of the Federal blockade of the ports. Articles of clothing +soon became scarce, and when the silks had all gone into +flags and the gingham into shirts for the soldiers, with a +dainty homespun skirt stretched over the hoopskirt, our +mothers looked like they were dressed whether they were +or not.</p> +<p>It was a good umbrella as far as it went and it was +a special convenience to the refugee women who had to +camp in the woods. At night a short pole was set in the +ground with a short horizontal cross piece tacked across +its top. Over this was stretched the hoopskirt and over +it a sheet, and, behold a beautiful, cozy Sibley tent for +two or three children to sleep under. It was our mother’s +faithful friend and companion to the end of the war. +Like the old soldier’s sword it came out very much battered +and worn by long service. Like the old soldier +himself, it had been wounded and broken and mended and +spliced until it was hardly its former self. In their +fatigue outfit our mothers laid aside the hoopskirt and +tucked up what was left. But on dress parade, in meeting, +company, and attending church it was her constant +friend and companion. The South embalms in its memories +the deeds of its men and the toil of its women. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +Father’s old sword and John’s gray jacket are sacred +heirlooms. So are the old spinning wheel and hand loom,</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“And e’en the old hoopskirt which hung on the wall,</p> +<p class='indent4'>The old hoopskirt</p> +<p class='indent4'>The steel-ribbed shirt,</p> +<p>The old hoopskirt which hung on the wall.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>One thing in the management of the hoopskirt the men +never could understand. How in the world could all +those steel wires be bundled and controlled when a woman +rode horseback or had to be packed in a buggy or carriage?</p> +<p>It was always a like wonder how the women could +dance so nimbly and gracefully with long trains and +never get tripped or tangled in them. Our women managed +the trains and the hoopskirts just as tactfully and +thoroughly and gracefully as they did their hard-headed +husbands and silly sweethearts. How they did it nobody +can tell, but they did it.</p> +<p>About the very last days of the war one of these old +hoopskirts played a conspicuous part in a tragedy in the +suburbs of Camilla, then a very small village, the county +seat of Mitchell County, Ga. A farmer by the name of +Taylor lived near the Hoggard Swamp. He had a friend +living in the town by the name of O’Brien. Both of them +often visited a very thrifty widow by the name of Woolley. +On her disappearance Taylor had put out the report +that she had moved back to South Carolina, but the truth +was he had murdered her for her money and buried her +body under some peach trees near the swamp. No suspicion +was aroused until Taylor returned from a trip to +Albany without O’Brien, who had gone off with him, and +a report came down from Albany that O’Brien’s dead body +had been found near there in the woods. Then suspicion +put in its work. Murder was in the air, but nowhere else +as yet. People held their breath. Some women late one +afternoon happened to pass the peach trees mentioned and +noticed the suspicious looking fresh soil under them. As +soon as they reached home they reported the circumstance +and a party was soon made up to go that night and make +an examination. The women guided them to the spot. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +They were afraid to make a bright fire and they used +only a dim light by burning corn cobs. Their blood ran +cold when in a very few moments they were satisfied that +they were digging into the poor woman’s grave. Suddenly +on the quick removal of a shovel or two more of +dirt, up flew a woman’s dress and white underclothing +pretty high in the air. Then there was a stampede for +life. Terror seized the men’s very bones. After a while +they mustered courage enough to return and find that the +woman was dead and her hoopskirt had been weighted +down by the soil and as soon as this was sufficiently removed, +it flew up with all its fearful elasticity. There +was life in it even in the grave. Taylor was tried, convicted, +and hung.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_POLITICAL_CRIMES_OF_THE_NINETEENTH_CENTURY' id='THE_POLITICAL_CRIMES_OF_THE_NINETEENTH_CENTURY'></a> +<h3>THE POLITICAL CRIMES OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[By J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The first of the great crimes of the last century was +the great rebellion of the Northern States against the +Federal constitutional Union, “the best government the +world ever saw.” Nine of these States in solemn legislative +action, in the fifties, utterly repudiated their contract +in the Federal Constitution. They nullified the acts +of Congress and repudiated and defied the decisions of +the Supreme Court.</p> +<p>This rebellion at the North broke up “the glorious +Union of our fathers,” and drove the South, like poor +Hagar, into the wilderness to look out for herself, without +a charge from any quarter that a Southern State had +committed one single act in violation of Federal law or +in hostility to the Constitution. Then came the second +great crime, the crime so vigorously denounced at the +time by William Lloyd Garrison, the most consistent and +the most heroic of the Northern Abolitionists, Horace +Greeley and Wendell Phillips, the crime of coercion of the +weaker by the stronger States, the military invasion of +the South under the prostituted flag of the Union, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +the final subjugation of her people by fire and sword. +<i>O tempora! O mores!</i></p> +<p>The acts of congress for years after the Southern army +had honorably laid down its arms and gone home to plow +and plant the fields make the blackest pages in the history +of modern times. The writer dreads to put in print his +estimate of such a political monster as Thad Stevens, the +misanthropic genius of reconstruction, the Robespierre of +America. Robespierre’s guillotine cut off the heads of +its victims. Thad Stevens’s guillotine cut off all hopes +from Southern hearts. He avowed it his purpose to exterminate +the Southern white people, to confiscate their +property into the hands of the negroes, and with these +negroes to keep the country forever under the dominion +of his party. According to him and his followers to this +day this party of (so-called) high moral ideas must +be kept in power no matter what crimes are committed in +securing the ascendency. This is political Jesuitism run +mad.</p> +<p>The saddest, strangest part of the history is that it was +twenty years before the Northern people came to their +reason and put a check on this ruinous fratricidal policy. +If the writer shall go to his grave with a holy horror of +the bald malignity, the reckless folly, the cowardly spite, +the sweeping curse of the reconstruction measures of +Thad. Stevens and his Congress, he will find himself in +good company. He once heard the great and good Dr. +John A. Broadus, of the Southern Baptist Theological +Seminary, say, “I can easily forgive and forget the war. +It was war, and all the wrongs done in it died away with +the cannon’s roar. But I find it so hard to forgive the +excuseless wrongs done to the Southern people since the +war.”</p> +<p>Dr. Broadus was a Southern man, but Rev. Dr. H. M. +Field, the fair-minded and patriotic author of “Bright +Skies and Dark Shadows,” is not a Southern man. Hear +what he says in his book:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>In South Carolina and the Gulf States negro government had +a clean sweep, and if we are to believe the records of the times, it +was a period of corruption such as had never been known in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +history of the country. The blacks having nothing to lose, were +ready to vote to impose any tax, or to issue any bonds of town, +country or State provided they had a share in the booty; and this +negro government manipulated by the carpet baggers, ran riot over +the South. It was chaos come again. The former masters were +governed by their servants, while the latter were governed by a set +of adventurers and plunderers. The history of these days is one +which we cannot recall without indignation and shame. After a +time the moral sense of the North was so shocked by their performances +that a Republican administration had to withdraw its proconsuls, +when things resumed their former condition and the management +of affairs came back into the old hands.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>These national crimes which so woefully afflicted the +people of the South after peace was made were:</p> +<p>1. The refusal to carry out Mr. Lincoln’s cherished +plan of reconstruction by immediate readmission of seceding +States after an orderly and legal abolition of +slavery.</p> +<p>2. The sudden emancipation of millions of African +slaves. Gradual emancipation would have been so much +better for their interests and for the welfare of the country.</p> +<p>3. The conferring of civil rights so early upon the +freedmen. If they had not been made citizens they could +have been colonized in due time and provided for, as the +Indians have been, with land and homes.</p> +<p>4. Enfranchisement of these grossly ignorant Africans.</p> +<p>5. Disfranchisement of the best people of the South.</p> +<p>6. Arming the blacks and disarming the white people.</p> +<p>7. The un-American crime of uniting church and state +and the employment of a religious society to carry out +directly the schemes of a political faction. Jesus Christ +never authorized any such work. He never gave the +least authorization of any church machinery through +which such a union could be effected. God wants the +good lives of men, and not compact and imposing church +organizations. They can be so easily perverted to unholy +purposes and made so effective in destroying human +liberty and crushing human rights. The union of church +and state was the curse of the middle ages and the blight +of modern Europe.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></div> +<p>It was an ominous day for America and a woeful day +for the South, when, upon the enfranchisement of the +negroes, the politicians in power and the fanatical Northern +Methodist Episcopal Church organized and transplanted +in the South the African Methodist Episcopal +Church and employed it directly in manipulating the votes +of the ignorant negroes. The great iron wheel controlling +the whole machine was put into the hands of a political +boss committee in Washington. Just within this +was the wheel turned by an absolute bishop in each State. +The most malignant of all the Southern negro politicians, +Bishop H. M. Turner, had the control of the Georgia +wheel and turns it to this day. Then came the smaller +wheels, turned by the presiding elder in each Congressional +district, enclosing the little wheels in the hands of +the preachers and circuit riders and stewards. The ignorant +negroes were wound tightly by the ropes into +a solid mass, and voted like slaves by the officers of the +new imported Northern church and the strikers of the +Union League. It was enough to make a patriot despair +of the country and a Christian to despair of religion +to witness these scenes. It made the white people of +the South get together in self-defence. It inevitably set +race against race in politics. This slimy trail of this +union of church and state has done sad work for the +South and dangerous work for the whole country. The +church iron wheel organized a solid mass of ignorant +negro voters on one side of the Southern ballot box. +This necessitated a “solid South” of white voters on the +other side.</p> +<p>8. Demoralizing the negroes for generations by making +them believe themselves to be special wards of the +nation and holding out to them the delusive promise of +“forty acres and a mule” as a pension for slavery and a +reward for party loyalty.</p> +<p>9. Taking away by act of Congress, without a dollar +of compensation, the slave property of orphans, widows +and Union men, the property recognized by the Constitution +of the government.</p> +<p>10. By force of bayonets keeping in the Southern high +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +places of power the carpet-bag adventurer from the North +and the irresponsible, unprincipled scalawag who had for +the sake of office turned his back upon his native South.</p> +<p>11. Unlawful confiscation of Southern lands, much of +it belonging to orphans and widows.</p> +<p>12. Enormous and unjust tax on cotton, at that time +the only marketable product of the Southern farms.</p> +<p>These were the woes which the “Reconstruction” measures +of the Federal Congress made for our Southern people, +a burden mountain-high, Ossa on Pelion, Pelion upon +Ossa. But grimly, patiently, bravely did our men bear +up under it. Political crimes always hurt the women +more than the men. Our women stood by and cheered +and comforted and helped as only such women can help +through all the toil, the gloom and wrongs of those dark +days. God bless their memories!</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='BRAVE_TO_THE_LAST' id='BRAVE_TO_THE_LAST'></a> +<h3>BRAVE TO THE LAST</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Eggleston’s Recollections, pages 73-76.]</p> +<p>But if the cheerfulness of the women during the war +was remarkable, what shall we say of the way in which +they met its final failure and the poverty that came with +it? The end of the war completed the ruin which its +progress had wrought. Women who had always lived +in luxury, and whose labors and sufferings during the +war were lightened by the consciousness that in suffering +and laboring they were doing their part toward the accomplishment +of the end upon which all hearts were set, +were now compelled to face not temporary but permanent +poverty, and to endure, without a motive or a sustaining +purpose, still sorer privations than they had known in +the past. The country was exhausted, and nobody could +foresee any future but one of abject wretchedness. +Everybody was poor except the speculators who had fattened +upon the necessities of the women and children, and +so poverty was essential to anything like good repute. +The return of the soldiers made some sort of social festivity +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +necessary, and “starvation parties” were given, at +which it was understood that the givers were wholly unable +to set out refreshments of any kind. In the matter +of dress, too, the general poverty was recognized, and +every one went clad in whatever he or she happened to +have. The want of means became a jest, and nobody +mourned over it; while all were laboring to repair their +wasted fortunes as they best could. And all this was due +solely to the unconquerable cheerfulness of the Southern +women. The men came home moody, worn out, discouraged, +and but for the influence of woman’s cheerfulness +the Southern States might have fallen into a lethargy +from which they could not have recovered for generations. +Such prosperity as they have since achieved is +largely due to the courage and spirit of their noble +women.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SALLIE_DURHAM' id='SALLIE_DURHAM'></a> +<h3>SALLIE DURHAM</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[From Life In Dixie, pages 304-308, by Mary A. H. Gay.]</p> +<p>Dr. Durham came to Decatur, Ga., in 1859. Well do +I remember the children—two handsome sons, John and +William—two pretty brown-eyed girls, Sarah and Catherine.</p> +<p>The Durham residence, which was on Sycamore +Street, then stood just eastward of where Colonel G. W. +Scott now lives. The rear of the house faced the site +where the depot had been before it was burned by the +Federals, the distance being about 350 yards. Hearing +an incoming train, Sallie went to the dining-room window +to look at the cars, as she had learned in some way +that they contained Federal troops. While standing at +the window, resting against the sash, she was struck by a +bullet fired from the train. It was afterwards learned +that the cars were filled with negro troops on their way +to Savannah, who were firing off their guns in a random, +reckless manner. The ball entered the left breast of this +dear young girl, ranging obliquely downward, coming +out just below the waist, and lodging in the door of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +safe, or cupboard, which stood on the opposite side of +the room. This old safe, with the mark of the ball, is +still in the village. The wounded girl fell, striking her +head against the dining table, but arose, and, walking up +a long hall, she threw open the door of her father’s room, +calling to him in a voice of distress.</p> +<p>Springing from the bed, he said: “What is it, my +child?”</p> +<p>“Oh, father,” she exclaimed, “the Yankees have +killed me!”</p> +<p>Every physician in the village and city and her father’s +three brothers were summoned, but nothing could be done +except to alleviate her sufferings. She could only lie on +her right side, with her left arm in a sling suspended from +the ceiling. Every attention was given by relatives and +friends. Her grandmother Durham came and brought +with her the old family nurse. Sallie’s schoolmates and +friends were untiring in their attentions.</p> +<p>During the week that her life slowly ebbed away, there +was another who ever lingered near her, a sleepless and +tireless watcher, a young man of a well known family, to +whom this sweet young girl was engaged to be married. +Sallie was shot on Friday at 7.30 A. M., and died +the following Friday at 3.30 A. M. General Stephenson +was in command of the Federal post at Atlanta. He was +notified of this tragedy, and sent an officer to investigate. +This officer refused to take anybody’s word that Sallie +had been shot by a United States soldier from the train; +but, dressed in full uniform, with spur and sabre rattling +upon the bare floor, he advanced to the bed where the +dying girl lay, and threw back the covering “to see if she +had really been shot.” This intrusion almost threw her +into a spasm. This officer and the other at Atlanta promised +to do all in their power to bring the guilty party to +justice, but nothing ever came of the promise, so far as +we know.</p> +<p>As a singular coincidence, as well as an illustration of +the lovely character of Sallie, I will relate a brief incident +given by the gifted pen already quoted: “One of the +most vivid pictures in my memory is that of Sallie Durham +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +emptying her pail of blackberries into the hands of +Federal prisoners on a train that had just stopped for a +moment at Decatur, in 1863. We had been gathering +berries at Moss’s Hill, and stopped on our way home for +the train to pass.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_NEGRO_AND_THE_MIRACLE' id='THE_NEGRO_AND_THE_MIRACLE'></a> +<h3>THE NEGRO AND THE MIRACLE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Grady’s New South, pages 97-118.]</p> +<p>What of the negro? This of him. I want no better +friend than the black boy who was raised by my side, and +who is now trudging patiently, with downcast eyes and +shambling figure, through his lowly way in life. I want +no sweeter music than the crooning of my old “mammy,” +now dead and gone to rest, as I heard it when she held +me in her loving arms and bending her old black face +above me stole the cares from my brain, and led me smiling +into sleep. I want no truer soul than that which +moved the trusty slave, who for four years, while my +father fought with the armies that barred his freedom, +slept every night at my mother’s chamber door, holding +her and her children as safe as if her husband stood +guard, and ready to lay down his humble life for her +household. History has no parallel to the faith kept by +the negro in the South during the war. Of five hundred +negroes to a single white man, and yet through these +dusky throngs the women and children walked in safety, +and the unprotected homes rested in peace. Unmarshalled, +the black battalions moved patiently to the fields +in the morning to feed the armies their idleness would +have starved, and at night gathered anxiously at the big +house to “hear the news from marster,” though conscious +that his victory made their chains enduring. Everywhere +humble and kindly; the body-guard of the helpless; the +observant friend; the silent sentry in his lowly cabin; +the shrewd counsellor; and when the dead came home, a +mourner at the open grave. A thousand torches would +have disbanded every Southern army, but not one was +lighted. When the master, going to a war in which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +slavery was involved, said to his slave, “I leave my home +and loved ones in your charge,” the tenderness between +man and master stood disclosed. And when the slave +held that charge sacred through storm and temptation he +gave new meaning to faith and loyalty. I rejoice that +when freedom came to him after years of waiting, it was +all the sweeter, because the black hands from which the +shackles fell were stainless of a single crime against the +helpless ones confided to his care.</p> +<p>This friendliness, the most important factor of the +problem, the saving factor now as always, the North has +never, and it appears will never, take account of. It explains +that otherwise inexplicable thing—the fidelity and +loyalty of the negro during the war to the women and +children left in his care. Had “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” portrayed +the habit rather than the exception of slavery, the +return of the Confederate armies could not have stayed +the horrors of arson and murder their departure would +have invited. Instead of that, witness the miracle of the +slave in loyalty closing the fetters about his own limbs, +maintaining the families of those who fought against his +freedom, and at night on the far-off battlefield searching +among the carnage for his young master, that he might +lift the dying head to his humble breast and with rough +hands wipe the blood away and bend his tender ear to +catch the last words for the old ones at home, wrestling +meanwhile in agony and love, that in vicarious sacrifice +he would have laid down his life in his master’s stead. +This friendliness, thank God, survived the lapse of years, +the interruption of factions and the violence of campaigns +in which the bayonet fortified and the drum-beat inspired. +Though unsuspected in slavery, it explains the miracle of +1864; though not yet confessed, it must explain the +miracle of 1888.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='GEORGIA_REFUGEES' id='GEORGIA_REFUGEES'></a> +<h3>GEORGIA REFUGEES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Mrs. W. H. Felton, in Georgia Land and People, pages 404-405.]</p> +<p>From the time that Oglethorpe planted his colony upon +Yamacraw Bluff, Georgia has never passed through such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +an ordeal as the present. Nine-tenths of her sons were +practically disfranchised because they had served the +Southern Confederacy, and all the conditions of life were +new; their servants were no longer subject to their control, +and most of their property was scattered to the four +winds of heaven. It tested the blood that had come down +to them from Cavalier and Huguenot, from Scotch and +Irish ancestry. The private life of many Georgians for +the first few years after the war beggars description; but +the women rose to the occasion.</p> +<p>The surrender found a gentle, shrinking Georgia +woman on the Florida line, nearly four hundred miles +from her luxurious home, from which she had fled in +haste as Sherman “marched to the sea.” The husband +was with General Lee in Virginia. The last tidings came +from Petersburg—before Appomattox—and his fate was +uncertain. Hiring a dusky driver, with his old army +mule and wagon, she loaded the latter with the remnant +of goods and chattels that were left to her, and, placing +her four children on top, this brave woman trudged the +entire distance on foot, cheering, guiding, and protecting +the driver and her little ones in the tedious journey. +Under an August sun through sand and dust she plodded +along, footsore and anxious, until she reached the dismantled +home and restored her little stock of earthly +goods under their former shelter. When her soldier husband +had walked from Virginia to Georgia, he found, +besides his noble wife and precious children, the nucleus +of a new start in life, glorified by woman’s courage and +fidelity under a most trying ordeal. For a twelve-month +the exigencies of their situation deprived her of a decent +pair of shoes; still she toiled in the kitchen, the garden, +and, perhaps, the open fields, without a repining word or +complaining murmur. The same material is found in a +steel rail as in the watch spring, and the only difference +between the soldier and his wife was physical strength.</p> +<p>This was no exceptional case. The hardships of +Georgia women were extreme and long-continued.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_NEGROES_AND_NEW_FREEDOM' id='THE_NEGROES_AND_NEW_FREEDOM'></a> +<h3>THE NEGROES AND NEW FREEDOM</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[In Last Ninety Days of the War, pages 186-187.]</p> +<p>The negroes, however, behaved much better, on the +whole, than Northern letter-writers represent them to +have done. Indeed, I do not know a race more +studiously misrepresented than they have been and are at +this present time. They behaved well during the war; +if they had not, it could not have lasted eighteen months. +They showed a fidelity and a steadiness which speaks +not only well for themselves but well for their training +and the system under which they lived. And when their +liberators arrived, there was no indecent excitement on +receiving the gift of liberty, nor displays of impertinence +to their masters. In one or two instances they gave +“missus” to understand that they desired present payment +for their services in gold and silver, but, in general, the +tide of domestic life flowed on externally as smoothly as +ever. In fact, though of course few at the North will +believe me, I am sure that they felt for their masters, and +secretly sympathized with their ruin. They knew that +they were absolutely penniless and conquered; and +though they were glad to be free, yet they did not turn +round, as New England letter-writers have represented, +to exult over their owners, nor exhibit the least trace of +New England malignity. So the bread was baked in +those latter days, the clothes were washed and ironed, and +the baby was nursed as zealously as ever, though both +parties understood at once that the service was voluntary. +The Federal soldiers sat a good deal in the kitchens; but +the division being chiefly composed of Northwestern men, +who had little love for the negro, (indeed I heard some +d——n him as the cause of the war, and say that they +would much rather put a bullet through an Abolitionist +than through a Confederate soldier,) there was probably +very little incendiary talk and instructions going on. In +all of which, compared with other localities we were much +favored.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +<a name='THE_CONFEDERATE_MUSEUM_IN_THE_CAPITAL_OF_THE_CONFE' id='THE_CONFEDERATE_MUSEUM_IN_THE_CAPITAL_OF_THE_CONFE'></a> +<h3>THE CONFEDERATE MUSEUM IN THE CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY</h3> +</div> +<p>This house, built for a gentleman’s private residence, +was thus occupied until 1862, when Mr. Lewis Crenshaw, +the owner, sold it to the city of Richmond for the use of +the Confederate government. The city, having furnished +it, offered it to Mr. Davis, but he refused to accept +the gift. The Confederate government then rented +it for the “Executive Mansion” of the Confederate States. +President Davis lived here with his family, using the +house both in a private and official capacity. The present +“Mississippi” room was his study, where he often held +important conferences with his great leaders. In this +house, amid the cares of state, joy and sorrow visited +him; “Winnie,” the cherished daughter, was born here, +and here “little Joe” died from the effects of a fall from +the back porch. It remained Mr. Davis’s home until +the evacuation of the city of Richmond. He left with the +government officials on the night of April 2, 1865. On +the morning of April 3, 1865, General Godfrey Witzel, +in command of the Federal troops, upon entering the city, +made this house his headquarters. It was thus occupied +by the United States Government during the five years +Virginia was under military rule, and called “District No. +1.”</p> +<p>In the present “Georgia” room, a day or two after the +evacuation, Mr. Lincoln was received. He was in the +city only a few hours. When at last the military was removed +and the house vacated, the city at once took possession, +using it as a public school for more than twenty +years. In order to make it more comfortable for school +purposes, a few unimportant alterations were made. It +was the first public school in the city. War had left its +impress on the building, and the constant tread of little +feet did almost as much damage. It was with great distress +that our people (particularly the women), saw the +“White House of the Confederacy” put to such uses, +and rapidly falling into decay. To save it from destruction, +a mass-meeting was called to take steps for its restoration. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +A society was formed, called the “Confederate +Memorial Literary Society,” whose aim was the preservation +of the mansion. Their first act was to petition +the city to place it in their hands, to be used as a memorial +to President Davis and a museum of those never-to-be-forgotten +days, ’61-’65. It was amazing to see the wide-spread +enthusiasm aroused by the plan. With as little +delay as possible the city, acting through alderman and +council, made the deed of conveyance, which was ratified +by the then Mayor of Richmond, the Hon. J. Taylor +Ellyson.</p> +<p>The dilapidation of the entire property was extreme, +but to its restoration and preservation the society had +pledged itself. They had no money—the city had +already given its part—what could be done? To raise +the needed funds it was decided to hold a “memorial bazaar” +in Richmond for the joint benefit of the museum +and the monument to the private soldier and sailor.</p> +<p>All through the South the plan of the museum and the +bazaar was heartily endorsed; so that donations of every +kind poured in. Each State of the Confederacy was represented +by a booth, with the name, shield, and flag of +her State. The whole sum realized was $31,400. Half +of this was given to complete the monument to the private +soldiers and sailors now standing on Libby Hill, and the +other half went to the museum.</p> +<p>The partition walls were already of brick, and the +whole house had been strongly and well built, but the +entire building was now made fireproof, and every other +possible precaution taken for its safety. In every particular +the old house in its entirety was preserved, the +wood work (replaced by iron) being used for souvenirs. +The repairs were so extensive that the building was not +ready for occupancy until late in 1895.</p> +<p>On February 22, 1896, the dedication service was held, +and the museum formally thrown open to the public.</p> +<p>But the house was entirely empty. Rapidly the +memorials were gathered from each loyal State and +placed in their several rooms. From start to finish the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +whole work has been free-will offering to the beloved +cause.</p> +<p>The treasury had been nearly exhausted by the restoration +of the building. The current expenses were met +only by the strictest economy, and largely carried on by +faith. In the past nine years much has been accomplished. +The institution is free from debt; and the museum +is now widely known. But much lies ahead in the +ideal the patriotic women have set before them and the +work grows larger, more important and far reaching as +it is approached. Such is the interest felt in the museum +that during the past year they have had 7,459 visitors, of +whom 3,717 were from the North. It is by these door-fees +that the expenses are met.</p> +<p>It would be quite impossible to enumerate all the articles +of interest to be found here. The memorials gathered +are not only interesting in themselves, but invaluable +for the truth and lessons which they teach. Historians +in search of information can here obtain original data in +regard to the “War between the States.” The United +States Government has already made use of these records +for its new Navy Register. Each confederate State is +hereby represented by a room, set apart in special honor +of her sons and their deeds. A regent in that State has it +in charge, and is responsible for its contents and appearance. +A vice-regent (as far as possible a native of that +State, but residing in Richmond) gives her personal supervision +to the room and its needs. The labor is incessant, +and would be impossible, but for the fact that it +is impelled by a sense of sacred love and duty.</p> +<p>Of the women of the Confederacy, of our brave and +uncomplaining soldiers, of their great leaders, as well as +of our illustrious chief, it well may be said:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Would you see their monument?</p> +<p class='indent2'>Look around.”</p> +</div></div> +<h4><i>The Mary DeRenne Collection</i></h4> +<p>The late Dr. Everard DeRenne bequeathed to the +Georgia room “The Mary DeRenne (of Georgia) collection.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +Mrs. Mary DeRenne, of Savannah, Ga., was his +mother, an enthusiastic Georgian, and patriotic Confederate. +Soon after the close of the war between the States, +finding that an officer of the Northern army was making +a collection of Southern relics, she felt that there were +few in the South who had the means to do the same, but +that it ought to be done. She determined at once to +begin, and while life lasted she spared neither effort nor +expense in gathering relics, books, papers, and all that +added to their value. Mrs. DeRenne soon found that +persons were glad to put together what made history, +when isolated relics or papers told so little. The result +tells an absorbing story.</p> +<p>Miss C. N. Usina, of Savannah, Georgia, presented in +1903 a liberal addition to this library.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='FEDERAL_DECORATION_DAYADOPTION_FROM_OUR_MEMORIAL' id='FEDERAL_DECORATION_DAYADOPTION_FROM_OUR_MEMORIAL'></a> +<h3>FEDERAL DECORATION DAY—ADOPTION FROM OUR MEMORIAL</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[Taken from Confederate Dead in Hollywood Cemetery, page 7.]</p> +<p class='center'><span class='smcaplc'>MRS. JOHN A. LOGAN WITNESSED OBSERVANCE IN RICHMOND AND MADE THE SUGGESTION.</span></p> +<p>The New York <i>Herald</i> contains the following contribution +from Mrs. John A. Logan, in which she says that +the “Decoration Day” in the North was an adoption from +the South’s “Memorial Day.”</p> +<p><i>To the editor of the Herald</i>:</p> +<p>In the spring of 1868, General Logan and I were invited +to visit the battle-grounds of the South with a party +of friends. As certain important matters kept him from +joining the party, however, I went alone, and the trip +proved a most interesting and impressive one. The +South had been desolated by the war. Everywhere signs +of privation and devastation were constantly presenting +themselves to us. The graves of the soldiers, however, +seemed as far as possible the objects of the greatest care +and attention.</p> +<p>One graveyard that struck me as being especially pathetic +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +was in Richmond. The graves were new, and just +before our visit there had been a “Memorial Day” observance, +and upon each grave had been placed a small +Confederate flag and wreaths of beautiful flowers. The +scene seemed most impressive to me, and when I returned +to Washington I spoke of it to the General and said I +wished there could be concerted action of this kind all +over the North for the decoration of the graves of our +own soldiers. The General thought it a capital idea, and +with enthusiasm set out to secure its adoption.</p> +<p>At that time he was commander-in-chief of the Grand +Army. The next day he sent for Adjutant-General +Chipman, and they conferred as to the best means of beginning +a general observance. On the 5th day of May in +that year the historic order was put out. General Logan +often spoke of the issuing of this order as the proudest act +of his life.</p> +<p>It was marvelous how popular the idea became. The +papers all over the land copied the order, and the observance +was a general one. The memorial ceremonies that +took place at Arlington that year were perfectly inspiring +to all the old soldiers. Generals Grant, Sherman, and +Sheridan and many of those who have since passed away +attended the first solemn observance of that day.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. John A. Logan.</span></p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='THE_DAUGHTERS_AND_THE_UNITED_DAUGHTERS_OF_THE_CONF' id='THE_DAUGHTERS_AND_THE_UNITED_DAUGHTERS_OF_THE_CONF'></a> +<h3>THE DAUGHTERS AND THE UNITED DAUGHTERS OF THE CONFEDERACY</h3> +</div> +<p>The following valuable bit of history is taken from the +Macon (Ga.) <i>Telegraph’s</i> account of the meeting of +the United Daughters of the Confederacy in Macon, October, +1905.</p> +<p>“In the presentation to Mrs. L. H. Raines of a gold pin, +a testimonial from the United Daughters of Georgia, a +very pretty climax to the morning’s session was reached. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +The speech with which Miss Mildred Rutherford presented +the pin in behalf of the Daughters will be memorable +to every one present, for it was touched with emotion +and instruction as a bit of history. Miss Rutherford explained +that when the war between the States ended, the +Ladies’ Aid Societies resolved themselves into associations +whose work it was to care for the graves of the +fallen heroes and to collect the bodies from far-off fields.</p> +<p>“There was a woman in Nashville, who had ever been +foremost in Confederate work—a Mrs. M. C. Goodlet, +who in 1892 was president of the auxiliary to the Cheatham +Bivouac. She had just aided in building the soldiers’ +home near Nashville and felt that there was a work +not included in the work of the auxiliaries as then constituted. +So she resolved to form an organization to be +called the ‘Daughters of the Confederacy.’ The purpose +of this organization was to be the care of aged veterans +and the wives and children of veterans, the building +of monuments, the collection and preservation of records.</p> +<p>“Mrs. L. H. Raines was one of the first to write for information +to Mrs. Goodlet, and on reply she took the +matter before the Savannah auxiliary. This auxiliary, +while not willing to lose its individuality in the new organization, +quickly formed within its own ranks a chapter +of the Daughters of the Confederacy. So the charter +chapter of Georgia came into existence.”</p> +<p>Miss Rutherford then related how the chapters grew +in number until it occurred to Mrs. Raines that strength +would come through union. She wrote to Mrs. Goodlet +suggesting a “United Daughters of the Confederacy,” +and Mrs. Goodlet agreed with the idea, so that a constitution +and by-laws were formulated and a convention of the +various chapters called at Nashville in 1894, “Mother” +Goodlet presiding. The convention of the United +Daughters at San Francisco formally recognized Mrs. +Goodlet as founder of the Daughters of the Confederacy +and Mrs. Raines as founder of the United Daughters.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +<a name='A_DAUGHTERS_PLEA' id='A_DAUGHTERS_PLEA'></a> +<h3>A DAUGHTER’S PLEA</h3> +</div> +<p>The following is an extract from the Macon (Ga.) +<i>Telegraph’s</i> report of the proceedings of the United +Daughters of the Confederacy in Macon on the 26th of +October, 1905:</p> +<p>Mrs. Plaine had not then learned that Virginia opened +last year a large and comfortable home for Confederate +women on Grace street in the city of Richmond. It is +a noble monument to our mothers and grandmothers and +a needed asylum for some of the very lonely. Mrs. +Plaine among other things said:</p> +<p>“We have corrected many falsehoods disseminated +throughout the South in Northern histories and readers, +substituting impartial and truthful Southern books; and +we have children’s chapters as auxiliaries to the United +Daughters of the Confederacy that they may learn even +more of the imperishable grandeur of the men and women +of the old South. But, my dear friends, have we not +failed in one paramount duty? Should we not in all +these years have made some organized effort for the succor +and support of the aged women of the Confederacy +whose noble deeds we have been busily recording? +Texas is the only State which has made any decided move +in this direction. The United Daughters of the Confederacy +of that State have purchased a lot in Austin and +have several thousand dollars towards building a home to +be known as ‘Heroines’ Home.’ They propose to have for +these precious old ladies pleasant and comfortable housing, +good food cheerfully served, efficient attendants, +nurses and physicians, books, and all the little pastimes +with which cherished mothers should be provided to keep +them satisfied and happy as the depressing shadows grow +longer.</p> +<p>“When we of Atlanta were working so hard to have +the State accept and maintain the soldiers’ home which +had been built by public subscription eight years before +and was fast going to decay, the only opposition we had +was from those who thought there were too few soldiers +left to need such a home. But what has been the result +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +of opening it to them? Why, hundreds of old, infirm +and needy veterans have found there a comfortable place +in which to pass the remnant of their lives, and we feel +more than repaid for our small share in opening it for +their use.</p> +<p>“Now, in the effort to establish a home for the aged +women of the Confederacy, the same objection will be +raised of ‘so few to occupy it.’</p> +<p>“Where are the women who represented the six hundred +thousand valiant soldiers who constituted the grandest +army the world has yet known?</p> +<p>“Where are those who with unflinching courage sent +forth husbands, sons, fathers, brothers and lovers to +swell that immortal host which marched and suffered beneath +the ‘Stars and Bars?’ Where the little girls who +carded and spun and knitted to help their mothers clothe +the naked soldiers? Where the young girls who stood +by the wayside to feed the hungry and quench the thirst +of the men on their long and weary marches? Where +the women who with tireless energy ministered night and +day to the sick and wounded and spoke words of hope to +the dying? Where those who stood at the threshold of +desolate homes to welcome with smiles and loving caresses +their uncrowned heroes, and who by their courage +and patient endurance, amidst want and poverty, saved +from despair and even suicide the men by whose heroic +efforts a new and greater South has arisen from the ashes +of the old?</p> +<p>“Hundreds of these women, my dear friends, some of +them once queens in the old Southern society of which +we still boast, and who would even now grace the court +of the proudest monarch on earth, are still with us, but +many of them in poverty and obscurity, suffering in +silence rather than acknowledge their changed condition.</p> +<p>“I know personally of four cultured, refined women, +born and bred in luxury, who gave some of the best years +of their lives to help the Southern cause, and who for +the love of it still work with their feeble hands to make +the money with which to pay their dues as members of +the United Daughters of the Confederacy.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></div> +<p>“I know of another, reared by aristocratic, wealthy +parents in this city, who drove with her patriotic mother +almost daily to take in their private carriage the sick and +wounded from the trains to the hospitals, and who on one +occasion retired behind one of the brick pillars of your +depot and tore off her undergarments to furnish bandages +for bleeding arteries. She is now quite advanced in +years, nearly all her relatives dead, and she is in very +straitened circumstances. But she is proud and brave +still, and makes no moan.</p> +<p>“A few years ago it was announced in an Atlanta paper +that a lady from Sharpsburg, Md., was visiting a friend +in Atlanta. A gentleman in Griffin, after seeing the notice, +took the next train to Atlanta and called to see the +lady without giving his name. As she entered the parlor +he stared at her for a moment and then grasped both +her hands in his and tears sprang to his eyes as he said +with great emotion, ‘Yes, yes, this is Miss Julia, only +grown older—the same sweet face that looked so compassionately +into mine, and the same person who with +her beautiful sister Alice and her mother, worthy to have +been the mother of Napoleon, nursed me into life as you +did so many poor fellows after that awful battle. I have +come to take you home with me. My wife and children +love you and all your family; your names are honored +household words with us.’ Everything in the fine old +mansion of that family was literally soaked in the blood +of Southern soldiers. To these two young girls, Julia +and Alice, scores of Southern families owe the recovery +of the bodies of their dead upon the memorable and +bloody field of Antietam or Sharpsburg. Most of the +people around there were Northern sympathizers, and +took pleasure in desecrating Confederate graves, and +these young ladies, with the assistance of a gentleman, +who posed as a Yankee, made, secretly, diagrams of the +burial places of our dead, marking distances from trees, +fences and other objects, and sometimes burying pieces +of iron or other indestructible articles near by, that they +might be able, if need be, to recover the bodies, and thus +many were restored to their friends. So much was this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +family hated by the Yankee element in the surrounding +country it became unsafe for them to keep a light in the +house after night, for fear of being fired into. I have +myself seen since the war the bullets which lodged in the +inside walls of the rooms. Just at the close of the war +these brave girls, in order to send the body of a noble +Confederate captain to his wife, then living in Macon, +drove with it in a wagon seventeen miles at night, crossing +the broad Potomac in a ferryboat, their only companion +a boy of twelve, and delivered the casket to the +express agent at Leesburg, Va. Both of these Southern +heroines are still living. Poverty long since overtook +them; the dear old home has passed into strange hands, +and they are left almost alone—one a widow, the other +never married.</p> +<p>“Think you that such as these are not deserving the +help of those of us who have been more fortunate? In the +language of Mrs. Vincent, of Texas, a native Georgian, +‘because they have stifled their cries, and in silent self-reliance +labored all these years for subsistence, are we +Daughters to close our ears to their appeals, now that the +patient hands and the feeble footsteps hesitate in the oncoming +darkness?’</p> +<p>“The time will come—is already here—when marble +shafts will arise to commemorate the deeds of the Spartan +women of the South, but a better and more enduring +monument would be a home for such of them as are still +alive and in need, and for the benefit of the female descendants +of the men and women of the Confederacy who +may yet become old and homeless, and are eligible to the +United Daughters of the Confederacy.</p> +<p>“Memorial Hall in course of erection by the Daughters +of the American Revolution, commemorative of the deeds +of our Revolutionary ancestry, is a worthy and patriotic +enterprise, but a home for the aged heroines of the Confederacy +would serve not alone as a memorial of our dead +heroes and heroines, but what is still better, it would be +a blessing to worthy, suffering humanity.”</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +<a name='HOME_FOR_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN' id='HOME_FOR_CONFEDERATE_WOMEN'></a> +<h3>HOME FOR CONFEDERATE WOMEN</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>These women of the South not only work for the men, +but when the men undertake to work for them, they take +up the work and do it for themselves. In March, 1897, +the Ladies’ Auxiliary of the George E. Pickett Camp, +Confederate Veterans, began a movement to establish a +home for the wives, sisters, and daughters of dead and +disabled Confederate soldiers. Of this Auxiliary Society +Mrs. R. N. Northern was president, Miss Alice V. +Loehr, secretary. A call was made to the people of the +State and a Confederate festival, in charge of a committee +of which Mrs. Mary A. Burgess was chairman, was +held in the Regimental Armory in Richmond from the +19th to 29th of May for the purpose of raising funds. +The movement was most heartily endorsed by the veterans, +by Governor C. T. O’Ferrall, and the people generally, +and was continued to complete success. A very +desirable building was secured on Grace street and the +home dedicated and opened in 1904 and is now occupied +by a number of grateful inmates. In all the historic memorials +about noble old Richmond there is no monument +more touching than this practical offering to the women +of the Confederacy. A similar home has already been +provided in Texas and the R. A. Smith Camp of Veterans +at Macon, Ga., which recently laid the corner-stone of a +monument to the Confederate Women, has already begun +a movement for the establishment of a home in that city +and the United Daughters of the Confederacy are at +work for its accomplishment.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='JEFFERSON_DAVIS_MONUMENT' id='JEFFERSON_DAVIS_MONUMENT'></a> +<h3>JEFFERSON DAVIS MONUMENT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>The project to erect an appropriate monument to the +great Chieftain of the Confederacy was undertaken by +the veterans years ago. They raised about $20,000. +The Daughters of the Confederacy, just as they always +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +do, then took hold of the matter and they have increased +the fund to $70,000. The Georgia United Daughters of +the Confederacy, who have built a Winnie Davis dormitory +at the Georgia Normal School, have been very active +in the work for the Davis Monument at Richmond, and +Georgia has the credit of leading all the States in the +amount contributed. The city of Richmond has donated +a very eligible lot at the crossing of Franklin and Cedar +streets, near the splendid R. E. Lee monument. It is +fitting that the monuments to the leading civil and military +heroes of the great cause shall be so near each other. +Very near to these will be monuments each to Gen. J. E. +B. Stuart, and to Gen. Fitz Hugh Lee. These monuments +will all stand in the Lee district, the new and coming +choice residence section of the glorious city.</p> +<p>It is expected that the splendid monument to Mr. Davis +will be unveiled at the Confederate reunion in 1907. +Work has already begun and the foundations are being +laid. Dirt was formally broken on the 7th of November, +1905, by Mrs. Thomas McCullough, of Staunton, president +of the Davis Monument Association. Hon. J. Taylor +Ellyson, lieutenant-governor elect, a noble veteran, +and others, also took part in the historic ceremonies. The +picks and shovels will be preserved in the Confederate +Museum. The monument will be unique in its design +and will worthily tell future generations of the great man +and the great cause. The writer confesses to a great +pleasure, while preparing this volume, of almost daily +visits to see the foundation work of this monument going +on. He spent five years of his life in Mississippi in the +old days, and he knows Mr. Davis before our war to have +been a gentleman, a patriot, and a Christian, and the kindest +of masters to his slaves. He was a Chevalier Bayard, +a knight <i>sans peur et sans reproche</i>, and yet, under the +responsibility laid on him by the Confederate States, he +became the mark for all the abuse and slander that could +be heaped on the Confederate cause by the fanatics among +our foes. His grave in Hollywood Cemetery and the +Confederate Memorial Museum building, which was Mr. +Davis’s home during the sad war, have been precious +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +though mournful Meccas to the author during many +months of hospital suffering in Richmond, and, by +courtesy of the Ladies’ Memorial Literary Society, a large +part of the actual work on this memorial volume was +done in the very rooms occupied by our great leader. +May God bless our noble women for the monument which +promises to be worthy of its mission.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='RECIPROCAL_SLAVERY' id='RECIPROCAL_SLAVERY'></a> +<h3>RECIPROCAL SLAVERY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Humanity and kindness were the rule which marked +the treatment of the slaves in the South. For this the +Southern people have claimed no credit. A man deserves +no credit for taking care of a $50 cow. Much more will +his very self interest treat well a $250 horse. How much +more to his interest to feed, house, clothe and nurse a +$1,500 negro. As in all things human, there were evils +connected even with Southern slavery, and Southern +patriots rejoice that it is all gone. But history will only +render simple justice to the men and women of the South +when it records that any real cruel treatment of the negro +was very rare.</p> +<p>The writer’s life has nearly all been spent in the negro +belts of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia and South Carolina, +and he knew of but three cases where slave owners +were charged with habitual cruel treatment of the slaves. +One of these, in the Alabama canebrake, gave his slaves +the best of medical attention, but they were evidently not +supplied with the clothing they ought to have. The other +two, one man and one woman, had the reputation of giving +way to a cruel temper when chastising their slaves. +All of them stood branded with public odium.</p> +<p>The truth is that in Southern slavery there was a sort +of mutuality. The owner belonged to the negro as truly +as the negro belonged to the white man. In many respects +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +the master rendered service to the slave. The State +laws, to say nothing of humanity and religion, made it +so, but you say “it was a very pleasant sort of slavery +for the master.” Yes, and a very pleasant sort of slavery +for the negro. They were the jolliest set of working +people the world ever saw. The chains of the negro +were not the only shackles removed by the great revolution. +When the time came the slave owners felt that a +great burden had been rolled from their own shoulders.</p> +<p>As far as the writer knows, the universal feeling of the +slave owners was expressed in the language of a good +old couple who had worked hard and finally become the +owners of a hundred slaves. Said the old man, “I +didn’t enslave the negroes, and I didn’t set them free, +and I am glad the whole of the great responsibility has +been lifted from my shoulders.” His wife, sitting by, +said, “I feel like a new woman. I am now set free from +a great burden.”</p> +<p>The truth is, while negro slavery was the most convenient +property ever owned in America, it made heavy +and constant exactions of care, attention, and worry on +the part of the owner. The ignorant, childish Africans +needed a master more than any master needed them. +There lived near the author’s home in Sumter county, +Ala., a Mr. Jere Brown. He was of a fine family and a +graduate of South Carolina College. He was a splendid +type of the intelligent, polished, Christian gentleman of +the old school. He owned at least a thousand negro +slaves and kept them all near him. While he had overseers +and foremen to direct the farm labor, he devoted +all his time to attendance upon his slaves. He was their +physician and their nurse and very rarely ever left the +boundaries of his own land. His slaves all loved him, +and it was long said of him that he wore himself out +looking after the negroes. They belonged to him and +he to them. This identity of interest, the closeness of +relationship, the mutual, kind feeling between owners and +slaves was never realized by the fanatics and party politicians +of the North until since the emancipation. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +eyes of the world have been opened to the fact that nearly +all of the substantial help for the negro’s school, his +church and for himself and his family when in distress, +has been rendered by the old slave owners and their children. +This practical help has been rendered all over the +South.</p> +<p>Alas! this mutual interest is growing weaker very fast. +The slave owners and their children, the true friends to +the negro, will soon be all dead. How much sympathy +the negro is to get from the next generation is for the +negro himself to say. He has used his ballot in such a +way as to cut himself off from his neighbors, employers +and life-long friends; and to bring down the contempt +of the world. For years he used it as a bludgeon to beat +the life out of what had been sovereign States and free +people. Later on he has made it a toy to be sold for a +drink of whiskey or thrown into the gutter. The whole +American people know this negro ballot to be a travesty +on liberty. His natural civil rights are secure in the +North and in the South. But his own folly has raised +the question of the continuance of the privilege of voting. +Anglo Saxons will continue to rule America. They are +not a people who will long put up with child’s play and +stupidity in politics. They mean business. And if the +negro expects to use the ballot, he must catch the step of +a freeman. He must vote for the interest of his State +and his section and through a prosperous united State, +work for the well being of the whole Union. In this +Christian land he has met with unbounded sympathy in +his helplessness. That sympathy is being at times sorely +tried. It is waning, sadly waning. If he expects the +privilege of an American, he must act like an American. +It saddens the Confederate veterans of 1861 to see how +far white and black have drifted apart within the last +twenty years. The “friendliness” of which Henry Grady +wrote in 1888 will not, it is feared, last to 1908. God +grant they may get closer together in all that makes for +the good of both races.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +<a name='BARBARA_FRIETCHIE' id='BARBARA_FRIETCHIE'></a> +<h3>BARBARA FRIETCHIE</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>Here is a part of the story of the Maryland woman and +the Federal flag in the famous poem of John G. Whittier:</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Bravest of all in Fredericktown</p> +<p>She took up the flag the men hauled down;</p> +<p>In her attic window the staff she set</p> +<p>To show that one heart was loyal yet.</p> +<p>Up the street came the rebel tread,</p> +<p>Stonewall Jackson riding ahead:</p> +<p>Under his slouch hat left and right</p> +<p>He glanced; the old flag met his sight.</p> +<p>‘Halt!’ the dust-brown ranks stood fast,</p> +<p>‘Fire!’ Out blazed the rifle blast,</p> +<p>It shivered the window pane and sash,</p> +<p>It rent the banner with seam and gash.</p> +<p>Quick as it fell from the broken staff,</p> +<p>Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>This is poetry, but it is not history. It is not truth. +It does not sound like it. Nobody but men like Whittier, +blinded by New England prejudice and steeped in ignorance +of Southern people, would for a moment have +thought Stonewall Jackson capable of giving an order +to fire on a woman. None of the story sounds at all like +“Stonewall Jackson’s way.” To their credit the later editions +of Whittier’s poems cast a grave doubt on the truth +of the story, and now Mr. John McLean, an old next-door +neighbor to the genuine Barbara Frietchie, has given +to Mr. Smith Clayton, of the Atlanta <i>Journal</i>, the true +story showing Whittier’s tale to be nothing but a myth. +Mr. Clayton says:</p> +<p>“Coming up to Washington from Richmond the other +day I brushed up an acquaintance with a very pleasant, +intelligent and, by the way, handsome gentleman, Mr. +John McLean, a conductor on the Richmond, Fredericksburg +and Washington Railroad. In the course of conversation +he mentioned Frederick, Md. I laughed and +said:</p> +<p>“Did you ever meet Barbara Frietchie?”</p> +<p>“Why, my dear sir,” he replied, “she lived just across +the street from my father’s home.”</p> +<p>“You don’t say so?”</p> +<p>“It’s a fact; and let me tell you, that poem is a ‘fake,’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +pure and simple. I was a child during the war, but I’ll +give you the truth about Barbara Frietchie as I got it +from the lips of my father and mother.”</p> +<p>And then he told me this interesting story:</p> +<p>“Ever been to Frederick?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Well, just where the turnpike enters the town my +father and mother lived in the old homestead. Directly +across the way lived Mr. Frietchie. He was a tailor, and +a good, clever man and honest citizen. His house had +two stories. On the ground, or street floor, was his shop. +The family lived up stairs. There was a balcony to the +upper story of the house facing the street. It was from +that balcony that the flag was waved, but Barbara +Frietchie had no more to do with it than you. General +Stonewall Jackson, returning from Monocacy, passed +through Frederick at the head of his army. He entered +the town by the turnpike and marched between the house +of Mr. Frietchie and the home of my parents. There was +a United States flag in the tailor’s house. His eldest +daughter, Mary Quantrell, thinking that the Union army +was coming, mistaking Jackson’s men for the Federals, +seized this flag, ran out upon the balcony and waved it. +Observing her, General Stonewall Jackson, who was riding +at the head of his troops, took off his hat, and ordered +his men to uncover their heads. They did so, and General +Jackson said that he gave the order to uncover because +he wanted his men to show proper appreciation of +a woman who had the loyalty and patriotism to stand up +for her side. Those are the facts. My parents were +there. They told me. I tell you. There was no sticking +any flag staff in any window. No order by General +Jackson to ‘Halt’ and ‘Fire;’ no seizing of the flag and +waving it after it had been shot from the staff; no begging +General Jackson to shoot anybody’s grey head but +to ‘spare the flag of his country’—all of this is described +in the poem—but none of it happened. Very funny about +Barbara Frietchie being four score and ten.”</p> +<p>“Who was Barbara Frietchie?”</p> +<p>“Why she was the young daughter of Mr. Frietchie—the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +young sister of Mary Quantrell, who waved the flag—that’s +all.”</p> +<p>Mr. McLean told me that he had three brothers in the +Federal army. His brother was doorkeeper of the Maryland +assembly, and his uncle a member during the stormy +sessions held at Frederick, when that body hotly discussed, +for many days, the question as to whether Maryland +should secede.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='SOCIAL_EQUALITY_BETWEEN_THE_RACES' id='SOCIAL_EQUALITY_BETWEEN_THE_RACES'></a> +<h3>SOCIAL EQUALITY BETWEEN THE RACES</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>When the men of the writer’s generation see or read +of the growing sensitiveness in all parts of the country, +at the North and South, as to negro social equality, there +rush up memories from the days of slavery that make the +present jealousy to some extent ridiculous. As to religious +equality, the slaves joined the churches of their +own choice. In the cities there were some churches composed +entirely of negro slaves and nearly all had white +preachers. The country has had few if any preachers +more eloquent and accomplished than Dr. Giradeau, who +in late years was professor in the Presbyterian Theological +Seminary at Columbia, S. C. He spent all of his +ministry up to the breaking out of the war as pastor of +one of these negro churches in Charleston.</p> +<p>In the country towns and villages seats were provided +for the negroes to attend the 11 o’clock and night services +of the whites. They shared in the ordinances and communed +from the same plate and cup in perfect Christian +equality with the whites. In the afternoon the house was +turned over to their exclusive use and the white pastor +was required to preach to them and worthy preachers +from among themselves were always encouraged. It always +appeared to the writer, all through his boyhood +days, that the white preachers preached better sermons to +the negroes than they did to the whites. The negro was +thus blessed with the most thorough and efficient evangelist +work ever done for the benighted. The negroes +trained under it have been the salt of the earth to their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +race in their churches since the war. In those days in +the South the white evangelist Phillip rode in the wagon +with the Ethiopian and taught him, and both were blessed. +When the lamented good old deacon Alex. Smith, of +Thomasville, Ga., was ordained a deacon, one of the ordaining +elders was his negro slave. At Bainbridge, Ga., +Rev. Jesse Davis officiated as a member of the Presbytery +ordaining to the ministry his slave, Ben. Munson. What +a calamity that this close brotherly association in religious +matters should have been so rudely broken in many +directions by the politics of the wild reconstruction which +was forced on the South.</p> +<p>At home some features of the life amounted to more +than social equality. There was “mammy,” for instance, +the good old negro nurse, housekeeper, hospital matron, +superintending cook, boss of the whole family, and what +not. She was father’s friend to counsel and cheer him, +and she was mother’s staff and companion. To us children +she was just everything. Those strong old arms +supported us in babyhood and dandled us and fondled +us in childhood. Her old bosom was a city of refuge +from even the pursuing father and mother. How quietly +peach-tree switches dropped from parental hands when +Mammy begged for us. Mammy’s cabin was the white +children’s paradise. Well does the writer remember that +when his mother had to take a trip for her health away +from home, he and a sister a little older than himself were +left in the home of a neighboring kindred to be cared for. +Kinsfolk did very well till night approached, then our +poor little hearts sighed for home and we ran away to +Mammy Cynthia and remained in her cabin and slept in +her arms in her nice clean bed until mother’s return. The +most cruel work done by the reconstruction politics was +to enforce the orders of the carpet-baggers and scalawags +in compelling these “mammies” to forsake their +old “missus” and old homes. Many of them never could +be tempted or forced to leave the old home.</p> +<p>Then there was “Daddy Jacob,” the nabob of the farm. +Like “mammy” he was given just enough work to keep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +up appearances and keep him in practice. But it was +usually special work, like presiding at the gin or hauling +with the two-ox wagon. Many a meal has the little +white boy eaten from old daddy’s dinner bucket or from +the blue-edged plates in his cabin.</p> +<p>Then there was “Mandy,” the young girl given by the +parents to her young white mistress near her age. Mandy +caught Miss Mary’s manners, fell heir to her dresses and +bonnets, waited on the table, joined the children in their +sports, and felt that she was about as good as anybody. +And she was, until the devil came along with the bayonets +and brought the monster curse to the negro, the “Yankee +school marm.” These women were deluded, blind guides +of the blind Africans. Reconstruction work has left the +negro women, especially the young ones, the most giddy, +most idle and aimless and the least virtuous of any set +of women in any civilized country. The white Yankee +school teachers sent down South by the thousands, forty +years ago, sowed the seed of false notions of life and +duty and opportunity, and the country is now afflicted +with the harvest.</p> +<p>“Jere” was the negro boy companion of young “Mars +Henry.” He and Mars Henry played marbles together, +fished or swam the millpond, searched the woods for +chinquapins or hickory nuts. They rode on the same +lever at the old gin and leaped into the lint room together +to pack back the loose cotton, and then mounted the mules +and rode them to the barn. But the ’possum hunt was +the glory of Henry and Jere’s united life. After supper, +in which Henry had swapped biscuit from the table for +Jere’s pork and roasted potatoes or sweet ash cake, they +would put a few potatoes in their pockets, gather an axe, +whistle up old “Tige,” the dog, and were soon away in +the woods. When the game was captured, and a failure +was a rare thing, with the nocturnal Nimrods, a small +short hickory pole was split and the tail of the ’possum +inserted in the crack and soon each boy had a ’possum +pole on his shoulder. But a boy gets sleepy quickly. +Worn out with their ramble they would rake up a pile +of leaves on the south side of a big log, kindle a fire near +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +their feet and put the potatoes to roasting. “Tige” knew +what it all meant and he enjoyed the camping too. He +would lie next to the ’possums so that he could keep an +eye on them. (The writer’s Tige had but one eye.) A +’possum is the meekest of all animals, when you get his +tail in a vice and a dog in three feet of him. Jere would +lie next to Tige, close enough to get some of his warmth, +and Mars Henry would lie close to Jere. With their feet +to the fire they got a few hours of the sweetest sleep the +world ever gave. It was Mars Henry’s active, rollicking, +rough and tumble open-air life with Jere that gave +such vigor, in camp and on the march, to the Confederate +soldier.</p> +<p>The only man who has understood the negro, knew +his wishes and his failings, knew how to be kind to him +when a slave, and a safe counsellor now that he is free, +is the man who, when a boy, played with Jere and slept +by his side in the midnight campfire. It is mammy’s people, +and daddy Jacob’s and Mandy’s and Jere’s people, +that understand the negro and have always been his best +friends. Had the country abided by Grant and Sherman +and Lincoln and Johnson as to the status of the restored +Union and left the rights of the emancipated slaves in the +hands of their old owners and their interests to be regulated +by the Mars Henrys of the South how much better +it would have been for the poor negro and infinitely +better for the white people. Southern people know best +how far the negro may go and where it is best for him +to stop. Now when the fearful problems which have +been brought about by vindictive politics, personal demoralization +and fanatical race prejudices, for which the +people of the South are not responsible, the whole country +is beginning to realize that if these problems are to be +solved in the negro’s favor he himself is to do the solving. +“Mars Henry” and “Jere” would once have died +for each other. But “Mars Henry” can’t help “Jere” +much now. Reconstruction politics led “Jere” too far +away from “Mars Henry” and kept him too long. In a +very few years there will be no “Mars Henry,” no “Jere.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +“Mars Henry’s” children know how to take care of themselves. +May God teach poor “Jere’s” children to work +out their own good.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='DREAM_OF_RACE_SUPERIORITY' id='DREAM_OF_RACE_SUPERIORITY'></a> +<h3>DREAM OF RACE SUPERIORITY</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>In a previous article the author has given an account +of what was nearer social equality between the white and +black races than will ever again be seen in the South or +anywhere else. But the deluded negro has been led to +look for something higher than social equality. The +most awfully destructive work done by the Northern attempt +to reconstruct Southern society has been seen in +the complete demoralization of the generation of the +negroes succeeding the playmates of the young Southerners +of 1861-1865. They were thrown directly under +Northern teachers profoundly ignorant of the negro race, +their condition, and their danger; but teachers supremely +bent on injury, as far as possible, to the white people +of the South. From them and the literature which they +circulated, and his own folly, the young negroes became +imbued with the idea, not of social equality with the white +people, but of social superiority to them. They themselves +were heralded in the highest places as the “wards +of the nation;” the white people were branded as its +enemies; they were the lions and the heroes of the revolution, +the white people were its victims. They were the +acknowledged pets of the triumphant Northern people, +while the whites were their doomed enemies. They were +to have offices, endowments, and bounties from the government. +This government gave them a Freedmen’s +Bank and a Freedmen’s Bureau and they saw no bank +nor bureau for white people. They saw the white people +to whom nothing was promised with no prospect but that +of poverty and degradation. The North gave them colleges +and the South taxed itself to give them schools. +They were lauded in Congress, on the hustings, in the +Northern pulpits, and in the party newspapers, as the innocent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +Uncle Tom-like, angelic people who were to redeem +the South and glorify America, while the white people, +only living by Northern sufferance, were branded as +traitors and rebels and enemies of the government. To +insure the triumph of the negro and the degradation of +Southern whites Congress kept the ominous Force Bills +before the public. Who can wonder that the heads of +these poor ignorant people were turned and their moral +natures poisoned?</p> +<p>Then, with all this, came the awful lawlessness under +which this young generation grew up. There was no +longer “old massa and old missus” to see that they were +controlled. Their parents gave way to delusive dreams +and devoted their energies to “going to town” by day +“going to meetin’” by night. Home life in the family +was, and is to this day, almost a thing unknown. There +was no parental control whatever. When undertaken +much of it was so childish or so brutal as to do more +harm than good. Some of these boys went to school +enough to learn to read a little and sign their names, and +right there the most of them graduated. A large portion +cannot read now. They seldom went to church, except +just enough to be baptized and to join in a special revival +shout of</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“We are all going to heaven,</p> +<p class='indent4'>Hallelujah!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>At other times when they did go they stood out on the +church grounds and smoked cigarettes. The negro +preachers, in nine cases out of ten, knew nothing and +could teach nothing. The aim of most of them seemed +to be to have a happy Sunday religion and enjoy the +honor of religious office and prominence. What a +passion this has been with the free negro. Then the +inevitable collection of the preacher, and all would scatter +without a thought of a religion to make good their lives +through the remaining six days of the week. Mrs. +Stowe’s Topsy said she did not know anything about herself +except, “I specs I growed.” Those young reconstruction +negroes just “growed.” They “growed” without +law at their so-called homes; they “growed” ignorant of, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +or defiant of the laws of the State, and they “growed” +without any aim except self-indulgence in ease and pleasure.</p> +<p>Then there before their eyes rose the Paradise tree of +the forbidden fruit—the white women beyond their reach. +There was in every State the law against intermarriage +of the white and black races which stood and will stand +in Median and Persian unchangeableness. Then came, +wherever these young negroes were scattered, at the +North as well as the South, the mighty resolve of passion, +pride, and revenge—“these white women are ours, we are +better than they are, they shall not be monopolized by +white men.”</p> +<p>The record is awful and the blackest page of American +history. This is the saddest chapter the author has ever +written. He has been all his long life known and recognized +by the negroes as one of their best friends. There +is nothing but sorrow in his heart over the wide-spread +demoralization of the negro race. He and all other true +Southern men rejoice over the great progress of the few. +He deplores the enslavement and degradation of the many +by whiskey, idleness, and lust. The strong, young African +tiger has been found lurking, not in American +jungles, but in American homes, highways, barns and +fields. His arch crime woman cannot hear named. And +to mention it to Southern men is to make their blood +boil in their veins and their brains to reel.</p> +<p>The heroism of Southern women cannot be told without +this dark page. The trials of the war were nothing +compared to the ordeal through which Southern women +have just passed. In the wreck of the South brought on +by Northern ballots and bayonets, the culminating damage +is the demoralization of the generation of negroes +now recently grown. In the face of the worse than +Gorgan horrors our women have borne themselves with +a courage, a patience, and fortitude that are sublime. But +let friends of the negro and friends of our women hope. +Thank God, the crime is on the decrease. White men +somehow will protect such women as God has given our +sunny land. The tiger is on the retreat, and thousands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +of the negro race are awakening to the fact that there +must speedily be another emancipation, a redemption of +their sons and daughters from their new slavery. The +negro has had race emancipation; he needs family +emancipation and personal emancipation from the +chains of sense and appetite. Good negroes are working +and praying for it. The negroes must break their own +chains this time. But let patriotic and Christian white +men help them everywhere.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='ROOSEVELT_AT_LEES_MONUMENT' id='ROOSEVELT_AT_LEES_MONUMENT'></a> +<h3>ROOSEVELT AT LEE’S MONUMENT</h3> +</div> +<p class='center'>“<i>Come Closer, Comrades!</i>”</p> +<p class='center'>[J. L. Underwood.]</p> +<p>When the victorious Federal army marched home, at +the close of the war between the States, the famous +Brooklyn preacher, Henry Ward Beecher, said that in +twenty-five years any man in America would be ashamed +to admit that he was ever a Confederate soldier. And +yet in twenty-five years half of the Cabinet at Washington +was composed of Confederate soldiers. In little more +than twenty-five years the country sees William McKinley, +the Republican President of the United States, himself +a veteran of the Federal army, down among the Confederate +veterans in Georgia, wearing the Confederate +badge, and otherwise fraternizing as a soldier with those +who wore the gray, and in his official capacity calling +upon Congress to care for the graves of the dead Confederate +soldiers just as the Government provides for the +dead who wore the blue. And the whole country, North +and South, applauded the noble McKinley.</p> +<p>Here is President Roosevelt, forty years after the war, +making the same recommendations and Congress actually +restoring the captured battle flags to the several Southern +States. It is a pity Beecher didn’t live to be in Richmond, +Va., on the 18th of October, 1905, and see President +Roosevelt by special appointment meet the Confederate +Veterans at the foot of the monument of General Robert +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +E. Lee. When he began his talk he said, “Come closer, +comrades.” The President of the United States calling +those old “rebels” of Beecher his comrades and all the +way on his long Southern tour, having at his own request +a voluntary escort at every point composed of the +veterans from both armies!</p> +<p>Shade of Beecher! Come back to Washington and see +President and Cabinet and Congress and Army and Navy +gather in tears around the coffin and do the grand honors +at the grave of the Confederate General Wheeler!</p> +<p>The truth is the true comrades from both sides have +been coming “closer” to each other ever since the bloodshed +at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, whenever the politicians +would let them. The old “vets” understand each +other whether other people do or not. We are “comrades” +indeed. Now, comrades of the North, let an old “Confederate +vet” who has gloried in the privilege of frequently +grasping your hands for forty years, say a parting +word to you. Your country is our country. Your +heroes are our heroes. We claim the honor of having +such patriotic countrymen as Lincoln, such heroes as +Thomas, Meade and Hancock, and McClellan and Grant, +and McPherson and Farragut. If there were such men +as Butler and Milroy and Hunter, they were our countrymen, +too, and if they did things worthy of condemnation, +let Southerners condemn them with a feeling of sorrow +over the failings of erring countrymen—just as Northern +men should look truthfully at the lives of Southern leaders +and condemn, when it is just, but condemn in sorrow +our erring countrymen.</p> +<p>But, comrades, “come closer.” Read the humble +tribute of this book to the memory of Southern women +of 1861-1865. They were your countrywomen. Their +virtues are the glory of all America. We have tried to +help you and the world to know them better. We have +all come forth from the ashes now. We are rejoicing in +a prosperous South and a prosperous North. Our +women nobly did their part in the war and nobly have +they helped to rebuild the South, not only for our children, +but for your sons and your daughters. Our sunny +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +South belongs to the whole country. Our noble women +and their children love their whole country. They have +shown themselves true to principle and true to duty. +“Come closer, comrades,” and study these Southern +women. If you find anything wrong in their spirit or +conduct, hold it up to just retribution. If they have set +a glorious example of courage, of sacrifice and of patriotism, +help your children and our children to “come closer” +in following their example.</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.22k4 --> +<!-- timestamp: 2011-08-03 16:07:20 -0500 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Women of the Confederacy, by J. L. 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