Detailed Minutiae of Soldier life in the Army of Northern Virginia, 1861-1865 Part 9

It seems that General Lee pursued the road which the survivors chose, and, starting later than they, overtook them, he being mounted and they on foot. At any rate, it was their good fortune to see him three times between Appomattox and Richmond. The incidents introducing General Lee are peculiarly interesting, and while the writer is in doubt as to the _day_ on which the next and last incident occurred, the reader may rest a.s.sured of the truthfulness of the narration.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GOOD MORNING, GENTLEMEN.]

About the time when men who have eaten a hearty breakfast become again hungry--as good fortune would have it happen--the travellers reached a house pleasantly situated, and a comfortable place withal. Approaching the house they were met by an exceedingly kind, energetic, and hospitable woman. She promptly asked, "You are not deserters?" "No,"

said the soldiers, "we have our paroles. We are from Richmond; we are homeward bound, and called to ask if you could spare us a dinner?"

"Spare you a dinner? certainly I can. My husband is a miller; his mill is right across the road there, down the hill, and I have been cooking all day for the poor starving men. Take a seat on the porch there and I will get you something to eat." By the time the travelers were seated, this admirable woman was in the kitchen at work. The "pat-a-pat, pat, pat, pat, pat-a-pat-a-pat" of the sifter, and the cracking and "fizzing"

of the fat bacon as it fried, saluted their hungry ears, and the delicious smell tickled their olfactory nerves most delightfully.

Sitting thus, entertained by delightful sounds, breathing the fragrant air, and wrapped in meditation,--or antic.i.p.ation rather,--the soldiers saw the dust rise in the air, and heard the sound of an approaching party.

Several hors.e.m.e.n rode up to the road-gate, threw their bridles over the posts or tied to the overhanging boughs, and dismounted. They were evidently officers, well dressed, fine looking men, and about to enter the gate. Almost at once the men on the porch recognized General Lee and his son. An ambulance had arrived at the gate also. Without delay the party entered and approached the house, General Lee preceding the others. Satisfied that it was the General's intention to enter the house, the two "brave survivors" instinctively and respectfully, venerating the approaching man, determined to give him and his companions the porch. As they were executing a rather rapid and undignified flank movement to gain the right and rear of the house, the voice of General Lee overhauled them, thus: "Where are you men going?"

"This lady has offered to give us a dinner, and we are waiting for it,"

replied the soldiers. "Well, you had better move on now--this gentleman will have quite a large party on him to-day," said the General. The soldiers touched their caps, said "Yes, sir," and retired, somewhat hurt, to a strong position on a hencoop in the rear of the house. The party then settled on the porch.

The General had, of course, no authority, and the surrender of the porch was purely respectful. Knowing this the soldiers were at first hurt, but a moment's reflection satisfied them that the General was right. He _had suspicions of plunder_, and these were increased by the movement of the men to the rear as he approached. He _misinterpreted their conduct_.

The lady of the house (_a reward for her name_!) hearing the dialogue in the yard, pushed her head through the crack of the kitchen door, and, as she tossed a lump of dough from hand to hand and gazed eagerly out, addressed the soldiers: "Ain't that old General Lee?" "Yes; General Lee and his son and other officers come to dine with you," they replied.

"Well," she said, "he ain't no better than the men that fought for him, and I don't reckon he is as hungry; so you just come in here. I am going to give you yours first, and then I'll get something for him!"

What a meal it was! Seated at the kitchen table, the large-hearted woman bustling about and talking away, the ravenous tramps attacked a pile of old Virginia hoe-cake and corn-dodger, a frying pan with an inch of gravy and slices of bacon, streak of lean and streak of fat, very numerous. To finish--as much rich b.u.t.termilk as the drinkers could contain. With many heartfelt thanks the survivors bid farewell to this immortal woman, and leaving the General and his party in quiet possession of the front porch, pursued their way.

Night found the survivors at the gate of a quite handsome, framed, country residence. The weather was threatening, and it was desirable to have shelter as well as rest. Entering, and knocking at the door, they were met by a servant girl. She was sent to her mistress with a request for permission to sleep on her premises. The servant returned, saying, "Mistis say she's a widder, and there ain't no gentleman in the house, and she can't let you come in." She was sent with a second message, which informed the lady that the visitors were from Richmond, members of a certain company from there, and would be content to sleep on the porch, in the stable, or in the barn. They would protect her property, etc., etc., etc.

This brought the lady of the house to the door. She said, "If you are members of the ---- ----, you must know my nephew; he was in that company." Of course they knew him. "Old chum," "Comrade," "Particular friend," "Splendid fellow," "Hope he was well when you heard from him.

Glad to meet you, madam!" These and similar hearty expressions brought the longed for "Come in, gentlemen; you are welcome. I will see that supper is prepared for you at once." (Invitation accepted.)

The old haversacks were deposited in a corner under the steps, and their owners conducted down-stairs to a s.p.a.cious dining-room, quite prettily furnished. A large table occupied the centre of the room, and at one side there was a handsome display of silver in a gla.s.s-front case. A good big fire lighted the room. The lady sat quietly working at some woman's work, and from time to time questioning, in a _rather suspicious_ manner, her guests. Their correct answers satisfied her, and their respectful manner rea.s.sured her, so that by the time supper was brought in she was chatting and laughing with her "defenders."

The supper came in steaming hot. It was abundant, well prepared, and served elegantly. Splendid coffee, hot biscuit, luscious b.u.t.ter, fried ham, eggs, fresh milk! The writer could not expect to be believed if he should tell the quant.i.ty eaten at that meal. The good lady of the house enjoyed the sight. She relished every mouthful, and no doubt realized then and there the blessing which is conferred on hospitality, and the truth of that saying of old: "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

The wayfarers were finally shown to a neat little chamber. The bed was soft and glistening white. Too white and clean to be soiled by the occupancy of two Confederate soldiers who had not had a change of underclothing for many weeks. They looked at it, felt of it, spread their old blankets on the neat carpet, and slept there till near the break of day.

While it was yet dark the travelers, unwilling to lose time waiting for breakfast, crept out of the house, leaving their thanks for their kind hostess, and pressed rapidly on to Manikin Town, on the James River and Kanawha Ca.n.a.l, half a day's march from Richmond, where they arrived while it was yet early morning. The green sward between the ca.n.a.l and river was inviting, and the survivors laid there awhile to rest and determine whether or not they would push on to the city. They decided to do so as soon as they could find a breakfast to fit them for the day's march.

A short walk placed them at the yard gate of a house prominent by reason of its size and finish. Everything indicated comfort, plenty, and freedom from the ravages of war. The proprietor, a well-fed, hearty man, of not more than forty-two or three, who, as a soldier could tell at a glance, had never seen a day's service, stood behind the tall gate, and, without a motion towards opening it, replied to the cheery "Good morning, sir," of the soldiers with a sullen "morn; what do you want here?" "We are from Richmond, sir, members of the --------. We are on our way home from Appomattox, where the army was surrendered, and called to ask if you could spare us something to eat before we start on the day's march." "Oh, yes! _I_ know about the surrender, _I_ do. Some scoundrels were here last night and stole my best mare, d--- 'em! No, I don't want any more of such cattle here," replied the patriot. (A _large_ reward for _his_ name.) The foragers, having worked for a meal before and being less sensitive than "penniless gentlemen" sometimes are, replied, "_We_ are not horse-thieves or beggars. If you do not feel that it would be a pleasure and a privilege to feed us, _don't do it_.

We don't propose to press the matter."

At last he said, "Come in, then; I'll see what I can do." The seekers after food accepted the ungracious invitation, followed the dog through his yard and into his house, and took seats at his table. At a signal from the master a servant went out. The host followed, and, it is supposed, instructed her. The host returned, and was soon followed by the servant bearing two plates, which were placed before the survivors.

Alas! that they should "survive" to see that the plates contained the heads, tails, fins, and vertebrae of the fish, fresh from the river, which the family of this hero and sufferer from the evils of war had devoured at their early, and, no doubt, cozy breakfast.

Survivor No. 1 looked at Survivor No. 2, Survivor No. 2 looked at Survivor No. 1, and simultaneously they rose to their feet, glanced at the "host," and strode to and out of the door. The "host" followed, amazed. "What's the matter, gentlemen? You did not eat." The "poor soldiers" replied: "No, we didn't eat; we are not dogs. Permit us to say we are satisfied it would be an injustice to the canine race to call _you_ one. You deserve to lose another mare. You are meaner than any epithets at our command."

The man fairly trembled. His face was pale with rage, but he dared not reply as he would. Recovering himself, and seeing an "odorous" name in the future, he attempted apology and reparation for the insult, and complete reconciliation. "Oh, come in, come in! I'll have something cooked for you. Sorry the mistake occurred. All right, all right, boys; come in," pulling and patting the "boys." But the boys wouldn't "go in." On the contrary, they stayed out persistently, and, before they left that gate, heaped on its owner all the contempt, disdain, and scorn which they could express; flung at him all the derisive epithets which four years in the army places at a man's disposal; pooh poohed at his hypocritical regrets; and shaking off the dust of that place from their feet, pushed on to the city, the smoke of which rose to heaven.

At eleven A.M. of the same day, two footsore, despondent, and penniless men stood facing the ruins of the home of a comrade who had sent a message to his mother. "Tell mother I am coming." The ruins yet smoked. A relative of the lady whose home was in ashes, and whose son said "I am coming," stood by the survivors. "Well, then," he said, "it must be true that General Lee has surrendered." The solemnity of the remark, coupled with the certainty in the minds of the survivors, was almost amusing. The relative pointed out the temporary residence of the mother, and thither the survivors wended their way.

A knock at the door startled the mother, and, with agony in her eyes, she appeared at the open door, exclaiming, "My poor boys!"--"Are safe, and coming home," said the survivors. "Thank G.o.d!" said the mother, and the tears flowed down her cheeks.

A rapid walk through ruined and smoking streets, some narrow escapes from negro soldiers on police duty, the satisfaction of seeing two of the "boys in blue" hung up by their thumbs for pillaging, a few handshakings, and the survivors found their way to the house of a relative where they did eat bread with thanks.

A friend informed the survivors that farm hands were needed all around the city. They made a note of the name of one farmer. Sat.u.r.day night the old blankets were spread on the parlor floor. Sunday morning, the 16th of April, they bid farewell to the household, and started for the farmer's house.

As they were about to start away, the head of the family took from his pocket a handful of odd silver pieces, and extending it to his guests, told them it was all he had, but they were _welcome to half of it_!

Remembering that he had a wife and three or four children to feed, the soldiers smiled through _their_ tears at his, bade him keep it all, and "weep for himself rather than for them." So saying, they departed, and at sundown were at the farmer's house, fourteen miles away. Monday morning, the 17th, they "beat their swords" (muskets, in this case) into plow-shares, and did the first day's work of the _sixty_ which the simple farmer secured at a cost to himself of about _half rations_ for two men. Behold the grat.i.tude of a people!

CHAPTER X.

SOLDIERS TRANSFORMED.

Sunday night, April 16th, the two survivors sat down to a cozy supper at the farmer's house. Plentiful it was, and, to hungry travelers, sweet and satisfying. The presence of the farmer's wife and children, two lady refugees, and an old gentleman, who was also a refugee, added greatly to the novelty and pleasure of the meal.

After supper the soldiers were plied with questions till they were almost overcome by fatigue and about to fall asleep in their chairs.

At last the farmer, with many apologies, led them kindly to the best room in the house, the parlor, where they spread their blankets on the carpeted floor and were soon sound asleep.

In the morning the breakfast was enough to craze a Confederate soldier.

b.u.t.termilk-biscuit, fresh b.u.t.ter, eggs, milk, fried bacon, coffee! After the breakfast, business.

The farmer proposed to feed and lodge the soldiers, and pay them eleven dollars monthly, for such manual labor as they could perform on his farm. The soldiers, having in remembrance the supper and breakfast, accepted the terms. The new "hands" were now led to the garden, where the farmer had half an acre plowed up, and each was furnished with an old, dull hoe, with crooked, knotty handles. The farmer then, with blushes and stammering, explained that he desired to have each particular clod chopped up fine with the hoe. The soldiers--town men--thought this an almost superhuman task and a great waste of time, but, so that the work procured food, they cared not what the work might be, and at it they went with a will. All that morning, until the dinner hour, those two hoes rose and fell as regularly as the pendulum of a clock swings from side to side, and almost as fast.

The negro men and women in the neighborhood, now in the full enjoyment of newly-conferred liberty, and consequently having no thought of doing any work, congregated about the garden, leaned on the fence, gazed sleepily at the toiling soldiers, chuckled now and then, and occasionally explained their presence by remarking to each other, "Come here to see dem dar white folks wuckin."

There were onions growing in that garden, which the soldiers were glad to pull up and eat. It was angel's food to men who had fed for months on salt bacon and corn bread without one mouthful of any green thing.

When dinner time came the "hands" were, to say the least, very decidedly hungry.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SEE DEM WHITE FOLKS WUCKIN]

b.u.t.termilk-biscuit figured prominently again, and the soldiers found great difficulty in exercising any deliberation in the eating of them.

It really seemed to them that, were it reasonable behavior, they could devour every morsel provided for the entire family. But when they had devoured about two thirds of all there was to eat, and the host said, "Have another biscuit?" they replied, "No, thank you, _plenty_--greatest plenty!" all the while as hungry as when they sat down. It was only a question of _who_ was to be hungry--the soldiers or the children. There was not enough for all. After dinner the survivors went again to the garden and chopped those clods of earth until the merry voice of the farmer called them to supper.

At supper there was a profusion of flowers which, the kind lady of the house explained, were there to cheer the soldiers. She had noticed they were sad, and hoped that this little attention would cheer them. But the thing the soldiers most needed to enliven them was more to eat. They were not feeling romantic at all.

After the supper the whole family adjourned to the parlor and were entertained with some good old-fas.h.i.+oned piano playing and homespun duets and solos. The veterans added their mite to the entertainment in the shape of a tolerably fair tenor and an intolerable ba.s.s. Singing in the open air, with a male chorus, is not the best preparation for a parlor mixed quartette.

When the war ceased the negroes on the farm had left their quarters and gone out in search of a glorious something which they had heard described as "liberty," freedom, "manhood," and the like. Consequently the "quarters" suggested themselves to the farmer as a good place for the new field hands to occupy for sleeping apartments. They were carried to an out-building and shown their room, ten by fifteen feet, unplastered, greasy, and dusty. The odor of the "man and brother" did cling there still. A bench, a stool, an old rickety bedstead, and a bed of straw, completed the fitting out of the room. Save for the shelter of the roof, anywhere in the fields would have been far preferable. The first night disclosed the presence of fleas in abundance, and other things worse.

While it was yet dark the farmer, still somewhat embarra.s.sed by the possession of the new style of laborer, began to call, "Time to get up bo--gentlemen!" "Hallo there!" bang, bang, bang! After a while the new hands appeared outside, and as they looked around noticed that the sun was looking larger and redder than they remembered it and too low down.

The morning air was chilling, and gra.s.s, bushes, everything, dripping with dew.

The farmer led the way to the stable yard, and pointing to a very lively, restless, muscular young bull with handsome horns and glaring eyes, said he was to be yoked and hitched to the cart. If he had asked them to bridle and saddle an untamed African lion they would not have been more unwilling or less competent. So the farmer, telling them the animal was very gentle and harmless, proceeded to yoke and hitch him, hoping, he said, that having once seen the operation, his new hands would know how. The yoke was a sort of collar, and when the hitching was done the bull stood in the shafts of the cart just as a horse would.

Instead of a bridle and reins a heavy iron chain with links an inch and a half long was pa.s.sed around the base of the animal's horns. The driver held the end of the chain and managed the animal by giving it tremendous jerks, which never failed to thrill the bull with agony, if one might judge from the expression of his countenance and the eagerness with which he rammed his horns into pine-trees, or anything near, whenever he felt the shock. The soldiers constantly marveled that his horns did not drop off. But they were not familiar with country life, and especially ignorant of the art of driving an ox-cart.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Bull Team]

After breakfast the younger of the two survivors was told to take the cart, drawn by the animal already described, and go down into the woods after a load of cord-wood for the kitchen fire. The trip _to_ the woods was comparatively easy. The wood was soon loaded on the cart, and the journey home commenced. After going a few yards the animal concluded to stop. His driver, finding that coaxing would not induce him to start, slacked the chain, gave it a quick, strong jerk, and started him. He went off at a fearful rate, with his nose on the ground and his tail flying like a banner in the air. In a moment he managed to hang a sapling which halted him, but summoning all his strength for a great effort, he bent himself to the yoke, the sapling slowly bent forward, and the axle mounted it. In another moment the sapling had righted itself, but the cart was turned over completely, and the wood on the ground. There were a great many mosquitoes, gnats, and flies in those woods, and they were biting furiously. Possibly that may account for the exasperated condition of the driver and his use of strong expressions there.