SHELLS FROM THE REAR OF THE CITY--PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE--PANTOMIME--PEA
MEAL--HOSPITAL ACCIDENT.
It was about four o'clock, one Wednesday evening--the shelling during the
day had gone on about as usual--I was reading in safety, I imagined, when
the unmistakable whirring of Parrott shells told us that the battery we so
much feared had opened from the intrenchments. I ran to the entrance to
call the servants in; and immediately after they entered, a shell struck
the earth a few feet from the entrance, burying itself without exploding.
I ran to the little dressing room, and could hear them striking around us
on all sides. I crouched closely against the wall, for I did not know at
what moment one might strike within the cave. A man came in much
frightened, and asked to remain until the danger was over. The servants
stood in the little niche by the bed, and the man took refuge in the small
ell where I was stationed. He had been there but a short time, standing
in front of me, and near the wall, when a Parrott shell came whirling in
at the entrance, and fell in the centre of the cave before us all, lying
there smoking. Our eyes were fastened upon it, while we expected every
moment the terrific explosion would ensue. I pressed my child closer to my
heart, and drew nearer to the wall. Our fate seemed almost certain. The
poor man who had sought refuge within was most exposed of all. With a
sudden impulse, I seized a large double blanket that lay near, and gave it
to him for the purpose of shielding him from the fragments; and thus we
remained for a moment, with our eyes fixed in terror on the missile of
death, when George, the servant boy, rushed forward, seized the shell, and
threw it into the street, running swiftly in the opposite direction.
Fortunately, the fuse had become nearly extinguished, and the shell fell
harmless--remaining near the mouth of the cave, as a trophy of the
fearlessness of the servant and our remarkable escape. Very thankful was I
for our preservation, which was the theme of conversation for a day among
our cave neighbors. The incident of the blanket was also related; and all
laughed heartily at my wise supposition that the blanket could be any
protection from the heavy fragments of shells.
Nor was this all: I had occasion to go to the mouth of the cave one
evening to speak to George; and there, with an enlightened audience of
servants from the surrounding caves collected near him, George was going
through a grave pantomime of the whole affair. It seems that he expected
the refugee to act the part of preserver in our extremity, and throw out
the shell; but, as he was disappointed in the matter, he represented him
in the most ridiculous manner possible to the audience.
Pressing up closely to the wheel of a wagon near by, George extended his
eyes, holding out his hand as if with a shield, and shrinking with the
semblance of extreme terror, that amused his spectators vastly: then,
changing the whole character, he put on the bravest port imaginable,
pushing his hat, with an independent air, on the side of his head; and,
assuming a don't-carish look, he sauntered forward to a large piece of
shell that lay conveniently near, caught it with both hands, gave it a
careless swing and throw far different from the reality, turned on his
heels, walked back to the wagon, with the peculiar swinging step of a
proud negro; then, leaning his arm on the wheel, carelessly surveyed his
audience, with a look that plainly said, "What you think o' dat, niggars?"
The benefited group immediately began laughing and applauding, like a
well-trained bevy of _claqueurs_, in which they were soon joined by George
himself.
Soon after, I received a note from M----, imploring me to be careful and
remain within the cave constantly. I could see that he was restless and
troubled in regard to the new peril from the battle field.
And so the weary days went on--the long, weary days--when we could not
tell in what terrible form death might come to us before the sun went
down. Another fear that troubled M---- was, that our provisions might not
last us during the siege. He would frequently urge me to husband all that
I had, for troublesome times were probably in store for us; told me of the
soldiers in the intrenchments, who would have gladly eaten the bread that
was left from our meals, for they were suffering every privation, and that
our servants lived far better than these men who were defending the city.
Soon the pea meal became an article of food for us also, and a very
unpalatable article it proved. To make it of proper consistency, we were
obliged to mix some corn meal with it, which cooked so much faster than
the pea meal, that it burned before the bread was half done. The taste was
peculiar and disagreeable.
However, it soon proved unwholesome, for the soldiers were again allowed
to draw rations of the remaining corn meal, with the peas in the kernel to
be boiled with meat. We were, indeed, experiencing the rigors and
hardships of a siege, for we ate nothing now but meat and bread.
Still, we had nothing to complain of in comparison with the soldiers: many
of them were sick and wounded in a hospital in the most exposed parts of
the city, with shells falling and exploding all around them. One shell
went completely through a hospital in the centre of the city, without
exploding or injuring any one, save by the severe shock to the invalids: a
fragment afterward came through the side of the same house, severely
fracturing the hip of a soldier, who was lying already wounded; one or two
wounded men were, also, killed by fragments of shell while in the
hospital.