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I replied:
"Will you detail one or more of the soldiers to act as an escort for me? I am afraid to go with only this girl."
To this he also a.s.sented, and said it was a wise precaution. He asked when I wished to come home.
"Day after to-morrow afternoon," I told him, and received a.s.surance that an escort would be in waiting for me at that time.
It now became necessary to make some important preparations for the trip.
A great deal was involved, and if my plans were successful, important events might accrue. A nice white petticoat was called into requisition, and, when I got done with it, it was literally lined with Northern newspapers. "The Cincinnati Enquirer," and "The New York Daily Times;"
"The Cincinnati Commercial Gazette," and "The Philadelphia Evening Ledger," under the manipulation of my fingers, took their places on the inner sides and rear of the skirt, and served as a very stylish "bustle,"
an article much in vogue in those days. This preparatory work having been accomplished, it required but a few moments to complete my toilet, and, under the auspices of a clear conscience and a mother's blessing, doubtless, I started on a perilous trip. The ever-faithful Telitha was by my side, and the military escort a few feet in advance.
After a walk of a mile and a half, I reached my destination for that day.
I found the old lady in question much better than I had expected. Nervous and sick himself, her husband had greatly exaggerated her afflictions. By degrees, and under protest, I communicated to these aged people my intention of carrying information to Hood's headquarters, that might be of use to our army. I knew that these good old people would not betray me, even though they might not approve my course, and I confided to them my every plan. Both were troubled about the possible result if I should be detected; but my plans were laid, and nothing could deter me from pursuing them.
The rising sun of another day saw Telitha and me starting on our way to run the gauntlet, so to speak, of Federal bayonets. These good old people had given me much valuable information regarding the way to Atlanta--information which enabled me to get there without conflict with either Confederate or Federal pickets. Knowing the topography of the country, I took a circuitous route to an old mill; Cobb's, I believe, and from there I sought the McDonough road. I didn't venture to keep that highway to the city, but I kept within sight of it, and under cover of breast-works and other obstructions, managed to evade videttes and pickets of both armies. After walking fourteen or fifteen miles, I entered Atlanta at the beautiful home of Mrs. L. P. Grant, at the southern boundary of the city. That estimable lady never lost an opportunity of doing good. The lessons of humanity and Christian grace impressed upon her youthful mind, and intensified by the life-long example of her devoted mother, Mrs. Ammi Williams, of Decatur, had called into action all that is enn.o.bling in woman. On this occasion, as upon every other offering an opportunity, she remembered to do good. She ordered an appetizing lunch, including a cup of sure enough coffee, which refreshed and strengthened me after my long walk. Her butler having become a familiar personage on the streets of Atlanta, she sent him as a guide to important places. We entered the city unchallenged, and moved about at will. The force of habit, probably, led me to Mrs. McArthur's and to Mrs. Craig's on Pryor street; and, by the way, these friends still own the same property, and occupy almost the same homes. The head of neither of these families was willing to accompany me to Confederate headquarters, and without a guide I started to hunt them for myself. What had seemed an easy task now seemed insurmountable. I knew not in what direction to go, and the few whom I asked seemed as ignorant as myself. Starting from Mrs. Craig's, I went towards the depot. I had not proceeded very far before I met Major John Y. Rankin. I could scarcely restrain tears of joy. He was a member of the very same command to which my brother belonged. From Major Rankin I learned that my brother, utterly prostrated, had been sent to a hospital, either in Augusta or Madison. He told me many other things of interest, which I cannot mention now, unless I was compiling a history instead of a series of personal reminiscences.
Preferring not to stand upon the street, I asked Major Rankin to return with me to Mrs. Craig's, which he did, and spent an hour in pleasant conversation. Mrs. Craig was a delightful conversationalist, and while she was entertaining the major with that fine art, I retired to a private apartment, and with the aid of a pair of scissors ripped off the papers from my underskirt and smoothed and folded them nicely, and after re-arranging my toilet, took them into the parlor as a trophy of skill in outwitting the Yankee. Telitha, too, had a trophy to which she had clung ever since we left home with the tenacity of an eel, and which doubtless she supposed to be an offering to "Ma.r.s.e Tom," and was evidently anxious that he should receive it. Having dismissed Mrs. Grant's butler as no longer necessary to my convenience, Major Rankin, myself and Telitha went direct to the headquarters of his command. The papers seemed to be most acceptable, but I noticed that the gleanings from conversation seemed far more so. The hopefulness and enthusiasm of our soldiers were inspiring.
But alas! how little they knew of the situation, and how determined not to be enlightened. Even then they believed that they would hold Atlanta against Herculean odds, and scorned the idea of its surrender. At length the opening of Telitha's package devolved on me. s.h.i.+rts, socks and soap, towels, gloves, etc., formed a compact bundle that my mother had sent to our soldiers. Many cheery words were said, and good-byes uttered, and I left them to meet once more under very different circ.u.mstances.
I now turned my thoughts to our negroes, who were hired in different parts of the city. Rachel, the mother of King, hired herself and rented a room from Mr. John Silvey, who lived upon the same lot on Marietta street upon which he has since erected his present elegant residence. In order that I might have an interview with Rachel without disturbing Mr. Silvey's family, I went to the side gate and called her. She answered and came immediately. I asked her if she realized the great danger to which she was continually exposed. Even then "shot and sh.e.l.l" were falling in every direction, and the roaring of cannon was an unceasing sound. She replied that she knew the danger, and thought I was doing wrong to be in Atlanta when I had a home to be at. I insisted that she had the same home, and a good vacant house was ready to receive her. But she was impervious to every argument, and preferred to await the coming of Sherman in her present quarters. Seeing that I had no influence over her, I bade her good-bye and left. Telitha and I had not gone farther than the First Presbyterian church (not a square away) from the gate upon which I had leaned during this interview with Rachel, before a bombsh.e.l.l fell by that gate and burst into a thousand fragments, literally tearing the gate into pieces. Had I remained there one minute longer, my mortal being would have been torn to atoms. After this fearfully impressive adventure, unfortified by any "permit" I struck a bee line to Mrs. Grant's, having promised her that I would go back that way and stop awhile. An old negro man belonging to Mrs. Williams, who had "come out" on a previous occasion, was there, and wanted to return under my protection to his home within the enemy's lines. Very earnest a.s.surances from Mrs. Grant to that effect convinced me that I had nothing to fear from betrayal by him, and I consented that he should be a member of my company homeward bound. Two large packages were ready for the old man to take charge of, about which Mrs. Grant gave him directions, _sotto voce_. Putting one of them on the end of a walking cane he threw it over his right shoulder, and with his left hand picked up the other bundle. Telitha and I were unenc.u.mbered.
With a good deal of trepidation I took the advance position in the line of march, and walked briskly. We had not proceeded very far before we encountered our pickets. No argument was weighty enough to secure for me the privilege of pa.s.sing the lines without an official permit. Baffled in this effort, I approved the action of the pickets, and we turned and retraced our steps in the direction of Atlanta, until entirely out of sight of them, and then we turned southward and then eastward, verging a little northward. Constant vigilance enabled me to evade the Yankee pickets, and constant walking brought me safely to the home of my aged and afflicted friends, from which I had started early in the morning of that day. Not being tired, I could have gone home; but the policy of carrying out the original programme is too apparent to need explanation. These friends were conservative in every act and word, and, it may be, leaned a little out of the perpendicular towards that "flaunting lie," the United States flag; therefore they were favorites among the so-called defenders of the Union, and were kept supplied with many palatable articles of food that were entirely out of the reach of rebels who were avowed and "dyed in the wool."
A few minutes sufficed to furnish us with a fine pot of soup (and good bread was not lacking), of which we ate heartily. The old negro man was too anxious to get home to be willing to spend the night so near, just for the privilege of walking into Decatur under Yankee escort, and said he was "going home," and left me.
The next day my escort was promptly on hand, and in due time I was in Decatur, none the worse for having put into practice a favorite aphorism of the Yankees, that "all things are fair in war."
The old man had preceded me, and faithful to the behest of Mrs. Grant, had turned over a valuable package to my mother.
Not many mornings subsequent to the adventure just related, I discovered upon opening the door that the Yankee tents seemed to be vacant. Not a blue-coat was to be seen. What could it mean? Had they given up the contest and ignominiously fled? As if confirmatory of the gratifying suggestion, the booming of cannon in the direction of Atlanta was evidently decreasing. Then again I thought perhaps the wagon train had been sent out to forage upon the country, and as it would now have to go forty-five and fifty miles to get anything, it required an immense military escort to protect it from the das.h.i.+ng, sanguinary attacks of the "rebels." The latter thought was soon dismissed and the former embraced, and how consoling it was to me. Before the sun had attained its meridian height, a number of our scouts appeared on the abandoned grounds; and what joy their presence gave us! But they left us as suddenly as they came, and on reflection we could not think of a single encouraging word uttered by them during their stay. Suspense became intolerable. With occasional lulls, the roaring of cannon was a continuous blending of ominous sound.
In the midst of this awful suspense, an apparition, glorious and bright, appeared in our presence. It was my brother. He had left Madison a few days before, where he had been allowed to spend a part of his furlough, instead of remaining at the Augusta hospital, and where he received the tender ministrations of his estimable cousin, Mrs. Tom Hillsman, and her pretty young daughters, and the loving care of his sister Missouri, who was also at this time an inmate of her cousin's household. How I wished he could have remained there until restored to health. One less patriotic and conscientious would have done so. His mother's joy at meeting her beloved son, and under such circ.u.mstances, was pathetic indeed, and I shall never forget the effort she made to repress the tears and steady the voice as she sought to nerve him for the arduous and perilous duties before him.
Much of his conversation, though hurried, was regarding his Mary, in Texas, and the dear little boy dropped down from heaven, whom he had never seen. The shades of night came on, and darker grew until complete blackness enveloped the face of the earth, and still the low subdued tones of conversation between mother, son and daughter, mingled with unabated interest. Hark! Hark! An explosion! An earthquake? The angry bellowing sound rises in deafening grandeur, and reverberates along the far-off valleys and distant hilltops. What is it? This mighty thunder that never ceases? The earth is ablaze--what can it be? This illumination that reveals minutest objects? With blanched face and tearful eye, the soldier said:
"Atlanta has surrendered to the enemy. The mighty reports are occasioned by the blowing up of the magazines and a.r.s.enals."
Dumbfounded we stood, trying to realize the crus.h.i.+ng fact. Woman's heart could bear no more in silence, and a wail over departed hopes mingled with the angry sounds without.
Impelled by a stern resolve, and a spirit like to that of martyred saints, our brother said:
"This is no place for me. I must go."
And then he put an arm around each of us, and kissed us with a fervor of love that knew no bounds, and was quenching itself in unfathomable hopeless tenderness. The quiet fort.i.tude and patriotism of his mother gave way in that dread hour, and she cried aloud in agonizing apprehension of never again clasping to her bosom her greatest earthly joy. No pen can describe the scene of that last parting between mother and son, and in sheer impotency I drop the curtain.
As he walked away from his sobbing mother, through the war-illuminated village, I never beheld mortal man so handsome, so heroically grand. His great tender heart, which I had seen heave and sway under less trying circ.u.mstances, seemed to have ossified, and not an emotion was apparent.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE TEN DAYS' ARMISTICE.
Going out with the Confederate clothes--Scenes at Atlanta and at Lovejoy's Station--The visit to Granbury's Brigade--The last interview with Thomie.
After every morsel of food had been taken from the people, and every vestige of nutrition extracted from the earth, the following order, in substance, was proclaimed throughout the land held by the right of conquest:
"All who cannot support themselves without applying to the United States Commissary for a.s.sistance, must go outside of our lines, either north or south, within the period of time mentioned in this order, etc., etc."
And by this order, and by others even more oppressive and diabolical, the Nero of the nineteenth century, alias William Tec.u.mseh Sherman, was put upon record as the born leader of the most ruthless, G.o.dless band of men ever organized in the name of patriotism--a band which, but for a few n.o.ble spirits who, by the power of mind over matter, exerted a restraining influence, would not have left a Southerner to tell the tale of fiendishness on its route to the sea.
And now, like Bill Nye, after one of his sententious and doubtless truthful introductions to a Western sketch, I feel easier in my mind, and will proceed with my reminiscences of that unholy period of this country, and tell the truth about it, without favor or prejudice, if it kills me.
After this p.r.o.nunciamento had been issued, all was bustle and rapid movement in every household within the boundaries of usurpation. Under the strong arm of military power, delay was not permitted. Homes were to be abandoned, and household goods and household G.o.ds to be left for the enemy, or destroyed; and liberty under our own vine and fig tree was to be a thing of the past, and dependence upon strangers a thing of the future.
In preparation for this enforced change, much that should have been done was left undone, but there was no time to correct mistakes--the armistice was only for ten days.
What were we to do, my mother and myself, was a question which presented itself with startling seriousness, and had to be answered without delay.
Our farm in Gordon county had already been devastated by the invading army, and every improvement destroyed, and if we should lose our home in Decatur we would be poor indeed. But what were we to do? If we left our home, we knew it would share the fate of all other "abandoned" property, and furnish material for a bonfire for Nero to fiddle by; and if we remained, by grace of better men than he, what a.s.surance had we that by any means within our grasp we could obtain even a scanty subsistence, or be protected from personal abuse and insult by an alien army whose gentlemen were vastly in the minority.
We learned that our neighbors and friends, Mrs. Ammi Williams and her estimable son, Mr. Frederick Williams, (an invalid from paralysis)--whose influence over General Schofield prevented my banishment from Decatur the very first night of its occupancy by the Federal army--and the venerable Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan (the latter a Bostonian and educated in Emerson's celebrated school for young ladies), and other families as true to the South as the needle to the pole, were going to remain and take their chances within the enemy's lines, and we determined to do so too.
The officers in command of the post, especially the provost marshal, interrogated us very closely regarding our plans and expectations during the occupancy of the place by Federal forces. Having satisfied them that our only remaining servant would do was.h.i.+ng and ironing at reasonable prices, and that we would do darning and repairing, we were given a written permit to remain within the lines.
I, however, had a work to do, a feat to perform, which for audacity and courage, has seldom been surpa.s.sed, which would not admit of my staying at home until I had made a little trip to Dixie.
Knowing the value of his influence, I again went to Mr. Frederick Williams, and confiding my plans to him, asked his a.s.sistance in getting permission to go out and return during the armistice. I never knew what argument he employed for the accomplishment of this object. I only know by inference. But I received a letter from General Schofield, adjutant-general, of which the subjoined is an exact transcript:
"DECATUR, GA., Sept. 1, 1864.
"MISS GAY--It was hard for me to reconcile my conscience to giving the enclosed recommendation to one whose sentiments I cannot approve, but if I have committed an error it has been on the side of mercy, and I hope I'll be forgiven. Hereafter I hope you will not think of Yankees as all being bad, and beyond the pale of redemption.
"To-morrow I leave for my own home in the 'frozen North,' and when I return it will be to fight for my country, and against your friends, so that I suppose I shall not have the pleasure of again meeting you.
Very respectfully, J. W. CAMPBELL."
And that Major Campbell's gallant act may be fully appreciated, I will add the letter which secured for me the great favor which I had the temerity to ask.
"HEADQUARTERS, ARMY OF OHIO, DECATUR, GA., Sept. 14, 1864.
"MY DEAR COLONEL--I have the honor to introduce Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of this village, and I recommend her case to your favorable consideration. I do not know exactly what orders are now in force, but if you think you can grant her desires without detriment to the public service, I am confident the indulgence will not be abused.
Very respectfully your obedient servant, J. W. CAMPBELL.
"To Colonel J. C. Parkhurst, Pro. Mar. Gen., Army of the c.u.mberland."
Thus recommended by one high in army ranks, Colonel Parkhurst granted me the privilege of going to see my young sister, then in Augusta, and carrying anything I might have saved from the ravages of the war, "unmolested." Fortified by these letters I went to the Provost Marshal in Decatur and told him I would be ready to go to Atlanta to-morrow morning at 8 o'clock, and I wanted to carry some old bed-clothing and other things to my sister, and would be grateful for an ambulance, or an army wagon all to myself, and an Irish driver. He promised that both should be at my service at the time indicated--not, however, without the sarcastic remark that "if the Yankees had been as bad as I had said they were, they would not have left anything for me to carry."
I ran to my mother and imparted to her the glad tidings of success, and in a whispered conversation we soon had definite plans arranged for the consummation of the perilous duty before me. I went to the Federal camp and asked for some crocus sacks such as are used in the transportation of grain, and quite a number were given to me. I shook them thoroughly inside and out, and put them by. A ball of twine and some large needles had found their way into the house. The needles were threaded and placed in convenient proximity to the sacks. Telitha watched every movement with interest and intuitively divined its import. The wardrobe was empty and my very first touch moved it at least one inch in the desired direction, and a helping hand from her soon placed it in favorable position. This much being accomplished, I took a seat by my mother on the front door-steps and engaged in a pleasant conversation with a group of young Federal soldiers, who seemed much attached to us, and with whom I conversed with unreserved candor, and often expressed regret that they were in hostile array towards a people who had been goaded to desperation by infringement upon const.i.tutional rights by those who had p.r.o.nounced the only ligament that bound the two sections of the country together, "a league with h.e.l.l, and a covenant with the devil." This I proved to them by doc.u.ments published at the North, and by many other things of which they were ignorant.
While thus engaged, Captain Woodbury approached and said: "I learn that you are going out into Dixie, Miss Gay."