PREPARING TO MEET SHERMAN
After my aunt and cousins left we began to bury every treasure we had.
All the silver which had not been sent to Morven was packed in a wooden
chest, and Mr. William Evans, our nearest neighbor, came one day in his
wagon to take it as, it was supposed, to the station to send it away by
the railroad. Nelson went with him, and they drove by a winding route
into some very thick woods near, and Nelson dug a deep hole and the two
of them lowered it in with ropes, filled the grave, and marked the spot.
That was one weight off of our minds. We kept just enough for daily use.
I became an expert in burying. Three sheets were a necessity; one to put
the top earth on, with moss and leaves and everything to look natural,
then one to put the second colored earth near the surface, and one to
put every grain of the yellow clay below, one little pellet of which
would tell the tale that a hole had been dug.
Charley came home for a few days on his way to Virginia, the boys at
the Arsenal having been called out. He was just sixteen, and it was
pitiful to see him weighed down by his knapsack and all the heavy things
he had to march with, for he was very thin and gaunt. Mamma consulted
him as to what to do with the old Madeira, of which she still had a good
deal packed in barrels in the storeroom. He consulted Nelson, and they
agreed to pack it in the big piano box, which was still used as a grain
bin. So the piano box was cleared out and emptied, and brought into the
little front porch, which it nearly filled, as there had been a room cut
off from each end of the porch, which originally ran the length of the
house, and this left this porch with steps all the way along down to the
ground, only about five steps. Here they brought hay and we all helped
bring the bottles of wine up quietly from the storeroom, and Nelson, who
was an expert, packed them beautifully. It was done so quietly that the
servants in the yard knew nothing of it. We all went to bed at the usual
hour, but at twelve o’clock Charley and Nelson got up, having provided
ropes, spades, and everything necessary in one of the shed-rooms, which
Charley occupied, also two pieces of round oak as rollers. They dug a
hole big enough for the piano box, using sheets for the earth, as I
have described, and how those two accomplished it is a mystery, without
help, but they did put that huge box into that deep hole, covered it up,
removing the dirt which was too much, and levelled the surface, raked
the whole front road, and then brought the wagon and rolled it back and
forth over it, making it look natural; so that in the morning there was
no trace of anything unusual. Charley left the next day for Virginia,
and oh, how miserable we were! Poor mamma, he was her special darling,
named after her youngest brother, who gave his life for his friend so
long ago.
Mamma was kept very busy, sending supplies in different directions, and
having cloth spun and woven. She sent demijohns of whiskey to the
hospitals and some down to Mr. Belflowers for use on the plantation in
case of sickness (the darkies having a feeling that no woman can be
safely delivered of a child without a liberal supply of whiskey).
I cannot mark the passage of time exactly, but the report came that
Sherman was advancing, and there came awful rumors of what he was doing
and would do. We made long homespun bags, quite narrow, and with a
strong waistband, and a strong button, to be worn under the skirts. And
into these we put all our treasures. They said every photograph was
destroyed, after great indignities. I took all my photos of my dear ones
(such sights they look now, but then seemed beautiful). I put them one
by one in a basin of clear cold water and left them a few minutes, when
I found I could peal them off of the card; and then I pasted them into a
little book which I could carry in one of my pockets. The book was
Brother’s passport-book when he was travelling abroad, and I have it now
with all the pictures in it. Our kind and generous neighbor, Mrs. Wm.
Evans, was a very, very thin, tall woman, but when I ran over to see her
during these days of anxiety and she came out into the piazza to meet
me, I could not believe my eyes. She seemed to be an enormously stout
woman! I looked so startled that she said:
“My dear Bessie, they say these brutes take everything but what you have
on and burn it before your eyes. So I have bags of supplies, rice and
wheat flour and sugar and what little coffee we had, hung round my
waist, and then I have on all the clothes I can possibly stand, three
dresses for one item.” And then we both laughed until we nearly fell
from exhaustion. And when I ran home and told mamma we had another great
laugh, and oh, it was such a mercy to have a good hearty laugh in those
days of gloom and anxiety. We never quite got to Mrs. Evans’s condition,
but we each had treasures unknown to the others concealed about us.
Things in the Confederacy were going worse and worse. It was an agony to
read the papers. My sister, Mrs. Van der Horst, came home from
Wilmington, bringing her maid, Margaret. Her husband did not think it
safe for her to stay any longer there. It was a great comfort to have
her with us. The Yankees were reported nearer and nearer, but we never
saw any one to hear positively where they were. Then one evening, just
at dusk, two horsemen galloped up to the front door, tied their horses
and came in. They were Charleston Light Dragoons acting as scouts for
General Hampton--Julius Pringle and Tom Ferguson. They came to tell us
Hampton was protecting all our troops as they left the State. They were
the very last, and Mr. Pringle said to mamma:
“I knew you had wine and whiskey in the house and I came to beg you for
God’s sake to destroy it all. Do not let a drop be found in the house,
I implore you.”
Mamma said: “But, Julius, I have not sent all that whiskey to the
hospitals yet, and it is so greatly needed! I have two demijohns still.”
“Oh, Mrs. Allston, I implore you, do not hesitate. Have those demijohns
broken to pieces the first thing to-morrow morning.”
She promised. We gave them a good supper, of which they were in great
need. Nelson fed the horses. They took two hours’ sleep and then left in
the middle of the night. As they were going, there were shots heard on
the public road which ran back of our house about 400 yards. The two
dragoons jumped on their horses and galloped off from the front door
into the darkness of the night. It was an awful moment. They were gone,
our last friends and protectors, and the agony in Mr. Pringle’s face was
indescribable.
We found the next morning that the shots had been the forerunners only
of the license we had to expect. It was negroes shooting our hogs, which
were fat and tempting. Early the next morning mamma called Nelson and
Daddy Aleck and had them bring the wheelbarrow and put into it the
demijohns with the precious rye whiskey and roll them to a little
stream near by, and pour it into the water. We went along and it was a
melancholy procession, and Daddy Aleck secretly wept and openly
grumbled, as he felt he had risked his life for that whiskey. As it was
poured into the branch by Nelson, who also loved whiskey, Daddy Aleck
went lower down the stream and knelt down and drank as if he were a
four-footed beast. Then we went back and wondered how we could dispose
of the two dozen bottles of wine still in the storeroom. Papa had once
said it might prove the most salable thing we had after the war. I
undertook to conceal them, and, going up into the garret, I found the
flooring was not nailed down, and, lifting one board at a time, I laid
the bottles softly in, softly because they were placed on the ceiling
laths and it was an old house. But the ceiling held and the bottles were
disposed of.
After having done all he could to help mamma that day, Nelson came to
her and said: “Miss, I want you to give me some provision and let me go
for a while.”
She exclaimed: “Nelson, you cannot leave us when these Yankees are
coming! You must not leave us unprotected.”
He said: “Miss, I know too much. Ef dem Yankee was to put a pistol to my
head and say tell what you know or I’ll shoot you, I cudn’t trust
meself. I dunno what I mite do! Le’ me go, miss.” So mamma put up his
bag of provisions and he went.
The next day she decided it was best to send Daddy Aleck off, as he said
if she let him go he thought he could take the horses in the swamp and
save them. So he went, taking the horses and a bag of harness and all
the saddles. It was a brave, clever thing of the old man to carry out.
But we felt truly desolate when both he and Nelson were gone, and we
only had Phibby and Margaret, Della’s maid, and Nellie, Nelson’s wife,
and little Andrew, who was a kind of little dwarf, a very smart and
competent, well-trained dining-room servant, who looked about fourteen
but was said to be over twenty.