BY FLAG OF TRUCE
_Milicent tells how she got from Baltimore to Dixie._
The War Department of the United States issued a notice that on such
a date a flag-of-truce boat would go from Washington to Richmond, and
that all persons wishing to go must obtain passes and come to that city
by a certain date.
I had not heard from my sister, Mrs. Grey, for some time. We were very
anxious about her, and I determined to seize this opportunity to get to
her.
I was fortunate in making one of a party of three ladies, one of whom
was Mrs. Montmorency, the widow of an English officer, and the other
Mrs. Dangerfield, of Alexandria, Virginia. On our arrival at Washington
late at night, we found all the hotels crowded and were told that it
would be impossible to get a room anywhere. Fortunately for us, Mrs.
Dangerfield was acquainted with the proprietor of one of the hotels
where we inquired, and here, after much difficulty, we secured two
small rooms. As he left us the old lady said triumphantly:
“Now, see what’s in a name! If my name hadn’t been Dangerfield none of
us could have gotten a place to sleep in to-night.”
The next morning we started for the flag-of-truce boat. Immediately
upon our arrival our baggage was weighed and all over two hundred
pounds refused transportation. The confusion was indescribable. As soon
as the steamer cleared the wharf every stateroom was locked, and the
five hundred passengers on board, with the exception of the children,
were subjected to a rigid examination--their persons, their clothing,
their trunks were all thoroughly searched. We were marched down two by
two between guards, and passed into the lower cabin, where four women
removed and searched our clothing; our shoes, stockings, and even our
hair were subjected to rigid inspection.
Mrs. Dangerfield being the oldest lady on board was by courtesy
exempted. As for myself, I fell into the hands of a pleasant woman,
who looked ashamed of the office she had to perform. She passed her
hand lightly over and within my dress, and over my hair; touched my
pockets and satchels, which I willingly showed her, and dismissed
me with a smile and the kind remark, “Oh, I know you have nothing
contraband,” while around me stood ladies shivering in one garment.
I had tea and sugar, both contraband articles, in a large satchel
upstairs in the care of the provost marshal. I out-Yankeed the Yankees
this trip. As soon as I had heard that we were to be searched and have
our things taken from us, I had walked up to the provost marshal,
told him I had tea and coffee--a small quantity of each--and asked to
be allowed to use them. In the gruffest manner he bade me bring them
immediately to him. My dejected looks must have inspired him with some
pity, for when I went off and brought back my satchel and handed it to
him, he turned and said in the kindest manner:
“Now I have saved them for you. After the search is over come to me
and I will return them to you.”
I thanked him and hurried off to impart the good news to my friend Mrs.
Dangerfield. I found her in a most animated discussion with an officer
who had just pronounced her camphor-bottle contraband. The old lady was
asserting loudly her inability to stand the trip or to live without her
camphor-bottle. After much argument and persuasion she was allowed to
retain it.
The scenes on deck at this time were too painful to dwell upon.
Mothers who had periled everything and spent their last dollar in
buying shoes for their children had to see them rudely taken away.
Materials for clothing, and pins, needles, buttons, thread, and all the
little articles so needful at home and so difficult to obtain in the
Confederacy at that time were pronounced contraband. Men went about
with their arms filled with plunder taken from defenseless women who
stood wringing their hands and pleading, crying, arguing, quarreling.
By this time we were far down the Potomac. Weak, hungry, and seasick,
we were glad when dinner-time drew near. The official notice had
stated that food would be provided, which we, of course, had construed
into three meals a day of good steamboat fare. The bell rang out
loudly at last, and we all rushed to the cabin, where to our utter
consternation we saw nothing whatever to eat, no set table, and nothing
that looked like eating. Coming up the steps was a dirty boathand with
a still dirtier bucket and a string of tin cups. He deposited these on
a table and then called upon the ladies to help themselves to atrocious
coffee, without milk, sugar, or spoons. Down he went again, and came up
laden with tin plates piled one on the other, and containing what he
called a sandwich. This sandwich was a chunk--not a slice--of bread,
spread with dreadful mustard, a piece of coarse ham and another chunk
of bread. Each person was generously allowed one of the tin plates and
one sandwich. The very thought of swallowing such food was revolting,
and more particularly so because we were tantalized with odors of
beefsteak and chicken and other appetizing delicacies prepared for the
officers’ table.
How thankful I was to the provost for confiscating my tea and coffee
and sugar and crackers and ginger-cakes! Each of our party had
something to add. Down upon the lower deck we had seen an immense pile
of loaves of bread, and near them a large stove. We coaxed the sailor
in charge to get us a clean loaf from the center of the pile and to put
our tea on his stove to draw. In a few moments we disappeared to enjoy
in our stateroom the luxury of a cup of tea! How others fared I do not
know. We were the only people, I think, who had saved any tea. Almost
every one had brought a few crackers, or cakes of some kind which
they had managed to keep, and these they must have lived on with the
abominable coffee.
When we reached the boat that morning only one stateroom was vacant,
and this we contrived to secure. It was crowded comfort for three
persons, but we were thankful. When night came our less fortunate
fellow travelers were scattered in every direction on the floor, their
only accommodations filthy camp mattresses without sheets, pillows, or
covering of any kind except their own cloaks and shawls.
We traveled slowly and cautiously, fearing that in the night our flag
might not be distinctly seen and we might be fired upon. The provost
and his officers were in most things polite and kind. The men got up
a little play between decks for the amusement of the ladies; but our
party was too ultra-Southern even to look on.
We remained off Fortress Monroe all night, only starting at daylight
for the James River. The trip up the James was accomplished in safety
and without incident of special interest, if we except a very sudden
and desperate love affair between a Southern girl and a Federal officer
and the amusement which it afforded us.
As our boat neared the wharf at City Point, on all sides were heard
cries of:
“Here we are in Dixie!”
As soon as we were landed a rush was made for the cars, and after
everybody was seated the provost marshal came through bidding us
good-by, shaking hands with many and kissing the pretty young girls.
He had been very kind, and, as far as lay in his power, had done so
much for the comfort of all and for the pleasure of the young people
that most of us felt as if we were parting from a friend. Indeed,
some were so enthusiastic that before we reached City Point they went
among the passengers begging subscriptions to a fund for purchasing
the provost a handsome diamond ring as a testimonial. Many, however,
refused indignantly, declaring that they did not feel called upon to
reward the provost for confiscating every article possible, and for
giving us for seven consecutive meals spoiled bacon, mustard, and
undrinkable coffee.
In Petersburg little or no preparation had been made for us, although
the hotel proprietors knew the truce boat was expected that afternoon
at City Point. We were scarcely able to secure an ordinary supper, and
had to sleep, eight or ten in a room, on mattresses laid on the floor,
and which, though clean and comfortable enough, were without covering.
The next day we parted to go in different directions.