THE WEDDING
I left school on my birthday, May 29, 1863, and returned to my home in
Charleston. There great activity and excitement reigned, for my sister
was to be married June 24 and I was to be first bridesmaid. The wedding
was very beautiful. To begin with, Della was lovely beyond words, an
ideal picture of a bride, and the groom, Arnoldus Van der Horst, was a
handsome and martial figure in his uniform, that of a major of the
Confederate army. They were married by the assistant rector of St.
Michael’s Church, the Reverend Mr. Elliot, in our beautiful oval
drawing-room or ballroom. It had a very high ceiling and was papered in
white with small sprigs of golden flowers scattered over it. There were
four large windows on the south, opening on the iron balcony which ran
round on the outside. And, on the opposite side of the room, two windows
exactly like those opening on the balcony, running from the tall ceiling
to the floor, but the panes of these were mirrors. It made you think you
were looking into another crowded room. There was a high mantelpiece of
white wood carved with exquisite figures of women dancing and holding
aloft garlands of flowers, Adam’s most beautiful designs; the cornice
around the ceiling was also beautiful; the furniture was rosewood,
covered with blue velvet with little pink rosebuds, and the carpet was
velvet with bouquets of pink roses tied with blue ribbons. The first
groomsman, Lewis Van der Horst, brother of the groom, was also in
uniform, that of a private in the Charleston Light Dragoons, C. S. A. He
was killed the following spring in Virginia, fighting gallantly.
I have a foolish little journal I wrote at this time, so foolish and
lacking in all interest, that I do not use it, but think perhaps this
little excerpt may be pardoned:
“Charleston, June 27th, 1863.
“Della is married!!
“It all seems like a dream; all the excitement is over, and now for the
first time I can think over it calmly. Wednesday at nine the wedding
took place. It was a very beautiful ceremony. She was perfectly lovely.
Her costume was a full plain dress of Brussel’s net, a beautiful
material, over a splendid white silk, with a beautiful real lace veil
falling almost to the ground; a wreathe of white hyacinths and bouquet
of the same.
[Illustration: ADÈLE ALLSTON AT SIXTEEN.
Afterward Mrs. Arnoldus Van der Horst.]
Such was her costume, but her appearance I cannot describe!”
This diary is a help as to dates, and it records that on July 10, at
daybreak, the shelling of Charleston began, and records also the hasty
packing up of the household gods and family impedimenta, and their
removal from the city; also our arrival at the station at Society Hill,
Darlington County, that night at twelve. There had been no time to send
orders for Daddy Aleck and the carriage to meet us, but the wonderfully
kind neighbors whom we were to find there gave their evidences of
generous friendship that night; for John Williams happened to be there
and offered his carriage and so did Doctor Smith, so that we got to
Crowley Hill with little delay. This was to be our place of refuge
during the war, while the plantations on the coast were regarded as
unsafe.
Before we left the city there comes to my mind a very vivid picture of a
visit paid by another member of the Charleston Light Dragoons, also a
private. He was at home on a short furlough and called to pay his
respects to my mother, and she sent for me to see him also. It was in
the same beautiful oval drawing-room. Mamma was seated on the little
sofa in front of one of the mirror windows, and when I entered the room,
on a chair facing her and talking with great animation sat Poinsett
Pringle, whom I had never seen before, the almost twin brother of my
future husband. Introductions were made, and I sat down and listened and
looked, and looked and listened. Efforts were made both by himself and
by mamma to draw me into the conversation, but in vain. When he had gone
mamma said to me:
“Well, Bessie, if this is the way you are going to behave, you certainly
will not be a success in society! You sat there with your mouth wide
open, gazing at the young man! What was the matter?”
I said solemnly: “Mamma, he was so beautiful that I was paralyzed! I
never saw any one so beautiful in my life.”
And it was true. He was angelically beautiful; light-brown hair parted
in the middle, with a curl in it, short as it was; wonderful blue eyes
that looked like windows to a beautiful soul, fair, smooth skin, perfect
teeth, and a dimple in his smooth chin--add to this very beautiful hands
and the sweetest voice, and no one will wonder that my breath had been
taken away by the sight of him. He was the darling and pride of his
whole family. His mother had him educated for the diplomatic service.
He was a most accomplished musician, playing beautifully on the piano,
and had a charming voice. I never saw him again. All this charm and
beauty of mind and body was snuffed out by a bullet the following May. I
think it was the battle of Haws Shop in Virginia, which the Confederates
lost, and had to give up the field. Poinsett was going out unhurt when
he saw his friend Bee lying wounded. Poinsett picked him up and carried
him some distance toward the rear, when a bullet struck, killing them
both. If I could paint, how I would love to perpetuate that beautiful
face and figure.
It was a terrible undertaking to pack all that big, heavy furniture and
get it away under stress. We found afterward that we had left many
things of great value. At this moment I remember especially two blue
china Chinese vases, urn-shaped, which stood two feet high and were very
heavy. It seemed impossible to get boxes and material to pack them and
they were left. Daddy Moses remained alone to take charge of the house
and garden.