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Desiring to preserve for my children
some account of my War experience I
have decided to commit to paper an account
of my expedition down the penninsula in
the year 1864.
It was a very wild thing for a woman of my
mature years to engage in, and I have often
regretted it because it did not meet with the
approval of my husband then absent, as all
fine men were, in military duty. But in
view of the infinite pleasure it gave my Mother,
shut up as she had been for years in the
“enemy’s lines”?, deprived, as she had been,
of all intercourse except by stealth with her
children who were all in the Confederacy,
or ordered to “put out her light”? when it burned
a little too late in the solitude of her own
chamber, subjected to constant alarms and
fear that her house might be entered by
armed men to search for imaginary spies
or for hidden treasure. In view, I say, of
the pleasure my escapade gave her, my
[page 2]
noble, patriotic Mother, I can find
no place for regret.
At the risk of making my story “flat, stale
and unprofitable”? I will begin at the beginning
viz. with the evacuation of the Peninsula,
including, of course, the City of Williamsburg.
Genl. Magruder, whose constant marching
and counter-marching of the forces under
his command had often excited comment
sometimes disadvantageous to his military
skill, but which the result proved to be wisdom,
had held the large army of the Enemy at bay
with a few thousand men, magnifying the
numbers under him by the constant change
of position. To-day appearing near the
York river and in a few hours time, such
was the swiftness of their movements, at some
point on the James, making it appear
that the forces were just double those really
under his control.
[page 3]
Genl. Macgruder’s maneuving was never properly appreciated
until he was ordered to fall back, then it was seen how small the
body of men whose fortitude and endurance under hardship and
fatigue had enabled him to check for so long a time the advance of
Mc’Clellan up the Peninsula. Just here let me pay my tribute of a
tear to those men who having but one body seemed to possess two souls,
scantily clothed, and scantily fed, perpetually on the march. No
murmur escaped them. They were ever ready to do or to die. At last came
the order for them to fall back and fresh troops were sent to command the
Forts built by them while they marched into Richmond. Genl. McLaws
and Staff, of whom my dear brother was one, breakfasted that last morning at
my Mother’s. We the women they left behind them bade them adieu with
brave hearts, they to do and suffer, we passively to endure. The Battle
of Williamsburg was fought that day, May 5th 1862, about two miles
below the Town and just beyond Fort Macgruder. All day long we heard
the booming of cannon and the rattle of musketry, and yet we hardly
seemed to realize at the time how fiercely the battle was raging and how
important that our retreating army should gain time, and that before another
twenty-four hours should pass we ourselves and our dear old City would be at
the mercy of the Federal troops – but so it was. All day long the wounded
were coming in. They were ministered to by loving hands for all
Southern soldiers were our brothers. Once a Florida regiment was
sent back from above to the Battle field, as they passed a house in
the Town to which the wounded had been carried, a girl young & fair,
[page 4]
waved before them a blood-stained cloth, calling out “go
and avenge this blood”?. With a yell they passed on at a double
quick, and they did avenge it, but with terrible loss to themselves,
for their gallant Colonel while shouting his battle-cry in defense of
the women of Williamsburg was shot and fell dead from his horse. He
is buried in the Church yard of Bruton Parish – a rude stone marks the
spot, and once each year it is covered with flowers. I have often wondered
if Col. Ward had no family or friends in his own State to honour his
remains by removal to his native soil, where the flowers ever bloom, and
the birds ever sing.
That night the Battle was over and the old City opened her doors for the
last time to give shelter and comfort to Southern soldiers. My Mother’s house
was full. It was a difficult matter to supply the cravings of hunger for the
servants had already begun to show their sense of freedom and prepared
with reluctance any thing for those they had come to regard no longer as friends
but as their bitterest foes. And we, my Mother and I, had not then learned
to cook and to take the place of a refractory domestic. The 8th Virginia
Regiment under Col. Hunter had fought nobly on many a well
contested field. At the Battle of Williamsburg they were all day under-
fire. Among the leading Officers were four brothers, until that day they
had passed through every Battle untouched, the oldest of the four that day
as we told him received his baptism of blood in a slight scratch on the face, after
-wards they did not fare so well, one of them languished for months in
a Northern prison which was not a paradise, though one would suppose
from the clamor about Andersonville that the North would at least have
[page 5]
furnished her prisoners with a sufficiency of food. But to return
These gentlemen were our guests that night – one of them threw himself
exhausted on the Study floor under the piano I think, asking me to wake
him at a certain time, he was soaked with rain, the water literally running
out of his boots, the rain had been falling in torrents all day. He soon fell into a
sleep so heavy that I had great difficulty in arousing him, for before the ap
=pointed hour the Quarter Master of his regiment called to say the Army
was about to fall back, and by daylight all must be ready to march. Then
came the tug of war, and our heart-strings were nigh snapped. But
women are touch things and endurance “existance may be borne”?. By breakfast
time on the morning of the 6th of May 1862 we were alone. My Sister, a
Bride of a few months, had gone off the day before with her husband who was
a member of McLaws’ division. My husband’s Mother and sister had
also fled the day before the Battle. He remained with me until the last
moment leaving with the rear guard of the Army about sunrise. My
Mother, brave woman that she was, decided to remain and take care of her
children’s home and the wounded who had fallen to her share after the Battle.
I determined to stay with her, though my Husband was very reluctant that
I should do so.
As we sat at breakfast Table that morning with the blinds closely drawn,
two women and one little child, we presented rather a scared picture
notwithstanding, our boasted courage when we insisted on staying behind.
My Mamy in whom we had the greatest confidence came in saying
“Oh, Lord Mist[r]iss just look out of the window.”? This we did taking care
not to be seen for we were sure McClellan’s Army would so note responses.
[page 6]
At our front gate stood a sentinel place there by order of
McClellan to protect us in our homes though we did not understand
that at the time. I shall never forget his appearance or how I hated him.
How thankful I felt that my dear Father was at rest and slept the sleep
that even his hatred of the North and his loss of State Rights could not
break. Then I vowed that I would keep his home and above all his
Study, where he was wont to write on all the great themes that filled mens
minds, sacred from the intrusion of the foe. This resolve came near
costing me dear. But more of that anon. At the same moment that
we discried the sentinel we saw passing up the Main Street, rejoining
on the name of the Duke of Gloucester St. The cannon with richly
caparisoned horses, all the Munitions of war, the advance guard
of the Grand Army of the Peninsula. On they came in such strong
force and power that my heart sank in thinking of our little distant
band, foot-sore, ragged, dirty and hungry too, until I remember
=ed the brave spirits that animated their weary fames, the sacredness
of the cause for which they fought. The ashes of the lives and then I again
took heart. In a little time the beautiful Court House Green in front of my
Mother’s house was filled with their army wagons, horses and soldiers. The
Palace Green was appropriated by the Cavalry. the houses abandoned by their
owners were speedily converted into barracks, the Churches into Hospitals for
the wounded of our army. The Town was full. Anxious hearts beat that
day in women’s breasts. As the day advanced finding we were not molested
we decided to go out and look after our dear Soldier who had been wounded in
[page 7]
the Battle and had been carried to the Episcopal and Baptist
Churches previously used as Confederate Hospitals. a friend Mrs. Isabella Sully one of the
bravest and most patriotic women I ever knew called for me to ac
=company her. To reach the Episcopal Church we were obliged to cross the
Palace Green filled as I have said with Federal Cavalry. They took no notice
of us nor we of them. I shall never forget the scene of horror that met my eye
when I entered that Church. The wounded lying all around, and here and
there the dead. I advanced to the Chancel, within the railing lay several.
One poor fellow the most splendid looking man I ever saw, lay in so
natural a position that I though he still lived but on bending over him I
found him one of the Immortals. By his side wept a comrade, truly
sacred tears that shame no man. In the Baptist Church the scene was
yet more heart rending. In the vestibble vestibule lay a negro. How he
came to be on the battle-field I never could ascertain, but he was not fighting,
notwithstanding he had been severely wounded in both feet and I was told
the Federal Surgeon has “sawed them off”?. Perhaps, it was the most merci
-ful way to do the work, but it filled me with a sickening horror which I
feel to this day. Such citizens as could do so asked the privilege of caring for
our wounded in their own homes. This was allowed. My Mother already
had four and could take no more. As the number lessened, dying as they
did almost daily the Baptist Church soon became the only Hospital.
The second day after the occupation of Williamsburg by the Northern Army
true to my vow of keeping sacred my Father’s home I eat at the window
of his Study watching. To my consternation and dismay I saw three
[page 8]
This is a second page 7.
With the dead and dying all around us a
sniviling, fawning fellow in a Federal uniform
[page 9]
came up, whining “This is a very dis
-tressing scene ladies.”? “Yes, it is”? was the
curt reply of my friend Mrs. S. “It gave me
great pain to decide to take up arms against
our people”? continued the whiner. “Our
people, what do you mean by that”? qu[e]ried
Mrs. S, “Oh! I am a Southern man.”? “You
are[”?], in tones that should have annihilated
him, “never let me hear you speak again
of our people – but you have only followed
the example of Cain who killed his
brother Abel.”?
He slunk away and we did not see
him again.
[there is a repeat of the negro in the Baptist Church The following appears to be the continuation from “and dismay I saw three”?]
[page 11]
Officers rapidly approaching the house. They came so fast that I had no
time for thought: but I met them at the front door, opening the door and holding
it in such a way that they could not enter without rushing over me and this they
seemed well inclined to do – they boldly said they had come to get something
to eat, and when I replied, that they could not get it, one of them turned to his
fellows swore a wicked oath adding “This woman ought to be arrested”?.
Another said “Let’s go and do it.”? I thought my hour had come but I did
not regret my firm stand. All day long I sat at the window watching.
All day long two crimson spots glowed in my cheeks – but they came not
again. the guard told me he had felt very sorry for me, “but they were
Officers Madam, and I could not stop them.”?
I obtained permission to remove some furniture left by my Mother-in-law
at her house. The house was occupied by the lowest of the rank and file who
seemed to try to provoke me by using the most violent oaths, abusing the
Confederates whom in every instance they called rebels. but I held my
peace though my blood boiled, I soon felt that it was no place for me to
be thus surrounded by a brutal and rude soldiery, though I feared no violence
I had a work to perform and I wished would not leave until it was accomplished.
I did not feel even then quite alone for in the servants houses in the yard
were many of the old family servants of my Husband’s, I felt that
they would protect me and I think now they would have done so. One of them
was helping me at the time to remove the furniture of his Mistress to a place of
safety. Bright, happy race. They loved us, and we trusted them.
[page 12]
Those by whom these tender relations were broken have done them
and us, a great wrong; in their ignorance peaceful and contented.
With the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge they have also eaten of the
apple of Discord. Discontented and idle, no longer worthy of trust, they
betray the hand that feeds them. Marion Harland has I think created
a very wrong impression in her late work. “A Chronicle of Old Virginia”?, by making
it appear that the people of the South were in constant threat of servile insurrection.
I am sure it was not the case in Virginia at that time, such a thought rarely
presented itself. Our maids slept in our chambers, or keeping rooms and
had every opportunity “to slay and to kill and divide the spoils.”? I used to
think my Mamy the perfection of a Mamy, so gentle and quiet in her manner,
such a lovely countenance, such a soft voice. Could she betray the child she
nursed, or forsake the Mistress who had always been good to her, her children
and her children’s children? Away with the thought. And yet the day
came when she left that Mistress without a servant, alone in the house which
had always given her shelter. Even her husband, who did not belong to us, and was
of disordered mind found there a home and every comfort. Yet they all went.
My Mother had said “Patty if you will only stay with me until this dreadful
War is over, and my children get back, I will gladly give you your freedom as
a reward for your fidelity.”? Who was to blame! The poor creature who had never
had a harsh word from Master or Mistress, who had always been loved, trusted
and venerated by the children of the family – or those who made her think it a
fine thing to be free, a fine thing to abandon the Mistress who had always been
her friend – A fine thing to be free snatch freedom and go North to _____ die? And
this she did after burying child after child in that harsh unaccustomed
clime. Who was to blame?
The Grand Army of the Peninsula went on to Richmond leaving
a guard to hold and protect the Town and torment the inhabitants. This
last they accomplished very effectually. As the number of
[page 13]
wounded lessened dying daily the Baptist Church soon
became the only Hospital. Here they were in charge of a Federal Surgeon.
What shall I say of him? I did not go there often to witness suffering that
I could not alleviate; but the friend of whom I have spoken went every day. From
her I have heard of flagrant wrong. On one occasion she had just left the bed
-side of a poor fellow seemingly doing well, a scream arrested her, in that
moment of time a dose of poison had been administered by the drunken surgeon
and the Confederate in his charge was dead. Another time an effort was made
to blow up this Hospital filled with wounded and Southern women. In a
closet I believe in the lower part of the Church, there was part of a keg of powder
fortunately damp from bloody and wet cloths thrown upon it. On the occasion
referred to a private soldier had laid a train of powder to this key which he
fired, rapidly the work? of death ran along the line, when partially stopped
by blood and water on the floor. Mrs. S. boldly placed her foot upon it
extinguishing the fire before it could span the few inches separating it from the keg
while the dastardly wretch took to his heels. Of course, this was the work of an
individual still it is doubtful whether he would even have suffered arrest
had he been detected, for a lady at home alone with her little children
had been most roughly treated by a soldier, who forced his way into her house
placed a pistol at her head and threatened to shoot her unless she liberated
a little negro girl she had shut up in a closet for some misdemeanor. This
conduct was reported at Headquarters, and the lady was told if she could
identify the ruffian he should be punished. This she could not do for a long
time, but one day she found him on guard at the Hospital, he was instantly
reported but no action was taken in the case. Either the Officers feared the men
or were in strong sympathy with them in their evil deeds. These scenes I did
not witness , myself <?> by those who were well informed and
truthful. Speaking of tormenting the citizens, our next door neighbour left
her home for a short time: Walking along the street she saw a piano borne
by soldiers, that she thought very like her own, she soon found this to be true the case
[page 14]
and rushing after the robbers, for they were nothing else, implored
them to restore her piano which was an unusually fine instrument.
She never saw it again, perhaps, it went to swell the gifts of “Uncle
Burnside”? who has been so kind as to give each of his nieces a piano
from the South.”? So I have heard that one of his nieces said. But this
I know a handsome private Library was carried off in a Government
ambulance by a woman from the North said to be the wife of one of the Officers.
A very old lady and her daughter had some very fine old wines, their
wine cellar was entered and all the wine captured, doubtless as contrabands
of war. These things were done in the greentree?, worse was done in the dry.
The longer the Federals held the place the harder became the rule. The
College of William and Mary was burned to the ground, private residences
destroyed, but I had left Williamsburg before these things occurred and
was not there to see the act. I only witnessed the result. The home of my Mother
-in-law which was one of the old Palace buildings, and the corresponding
house owned by Mrs. Semple, a daughter of Ex-President Tyler, were built
of brick imported from England, and were the last relics of Colonial grandeur
and dear to all the people. These buildings were ruthlessly destroyed and the bricks
carried off. The Provost-Marshal, one Morrison, had pledged
his word to a brother officer who was friendly to the people, this this thing
should not be done. In two hours tine the soldiers were engaged in the
work demolition. A large stone wall that surmounted one of the
pillars of the Palace gate, was saved through the instrumentality of a
faithful negro. We still own it. It was all that was left at the close of the
War of a happy and comfortable house.
The fair girl who waved the bloody handkerchief to the Florida Regiment
was once accosted by a Yankee Soldier. “Miss, I believe your hatred of Yankees is
so great that you would not wish to see us in Heaven.”? “Oh, yes I would, for then you
would be so changed I should not know you to be be Yankees,”? was her quick reply.
[page 15]
A little girl tripping along the street was spoken to as “Wall? Lizzy”?
“Gecesh you mean”? said the laughing little one as she sped on her way.
These anecdotes show that the warlike spirit was confined to no age or sex.
The wounded Confederates in my Mother’s
charge all got well and went their way rejoicing. Col. Williams of Virginia
Regiment, a gallant officer and charming gentleman, though never recovering
the use of his hand returned to the Army and fell at Gettysburg. A young fellow
from Lynchburg Va was badly wounded in the arm and it was feared that
amputation would be necessary, but as he was in friendly hands and not in
Hospital that calamity was avoided. A third wounded in the wrist attributed? the
preservation of his hand to my Mother’s care. He handsomely says that next to his
own Mother she was the < ? > finest, I know nothing, but we turned them all
out safe and doing well, & in due time they were exchanged. Those of the wounded
who died in private homes were buried in the new Cemetary near the Town.
On such occasions every woman and child who could do so followed the remains
to the grave. While burying “poor little Davis as we called him, (I forget where
he was from) a young boy who had lost one leg and been wounded in both the other, we
heard the booming of cannon which seemed to so near that we thought
relief at hand. But proved to be the Battle of Malvern Hill, and relief came
note not. All this time we had prayer-meetings from house to house. A
good Presbyterian Divine, who although a small man had the pluck and
spirit of a giant. He would kneel boldly at a front window, invoke the Helping
of Heaven in our lives & cause, and pray that the Northern Army might be Driven
far from us. Whether the Yankee soldiers who were constantly passing to and fro
ever heard him I know not. They did not molest us. Perhaps they thought
us fighting with harmless weapons. Those of the wounded who died in
Hospital were buried uncoffined and unsung, but not unwept. A deep
pit was dug in the open Commons under the Hospital window large enough to
contain several bodies, then when two or three were dead, wrapped in their
[page 16]
coarse blankets, on which a woman would sometimes place a flower,
they were carelessly interred. After the war was over these sad remains
were placed in hallowed ground. But no Monument marks the
spot. This mound, together with seven more in the Episcopal Church yard
are under the charge of the ladies who yearly see them decorated with flowers
and are training up the children to ever remember the graves of the Southern Soldier.
The last of July I secured a pass to go to the Gloucester County; we had not
been able during all this time to get authentic information with regard
to our Army, or our loved ones. I hoped to gather some tidings in Gloucester,
failing in doing so I decided to go to Richmond in private conveyance.
There as we drove through the streets with our tired horses looking as if they
had come from afar we were greeted with shouts from the Libby prison,
the inmates evidently thinking we had left our homes in ashes, and were
heralds of victory to their arms. After remaining in the Confederacy for a
short time I was advised by some leading gentlemen not to return to Williams
-burg. A raid having taken place soon after my departure I might be
considered a spy and suffer accordingly, notwithstanding my sex.
Thus it was I left my Mother, and I did not see my home again until the
War was over. I remained in Richmond and was there when my beloved
young brother received his death wound at the second battle Fredericks
-burg, December 13th 1862. He was serving on Genl. McLaws staff and
was bearing a message at the time he was struck in the knee. He regarded the
wound as trifling and insisted that others should receive the Surgeon’s care
before himself. It was found to be a very serious wound, and he was sent back
to Richmond. His life for many long weeks hung on a thread, careful nursing,
tender administrations of friends and the best surgical skill saved his life
at that time, but his knee was bent and stiff, without the aid of a crutch he
never walked again, his naturally fine constitution was undermined
and in ten years he died as effectually killed by the ball on the Battle-field
of Fredericksburg as if he had fallen on the spot.
[page 17]
Time passed on, My Husband was ordered South and I left
Richmond. “Each new day a gash was added to our Country’s wounds”?
Still our men fought manly on, hardships and toils were multiplied,
Provisions and Medicines were scarce. Chloroform, the great alleviator
of suffering could be used but sparingly, backs were substituted for Quinine
blackberry leaves, and such like for tea, dried sweet potatoes for Coffee.
Sorgum the only “sweetening,”? and yet we lived through all these vile decoc
=tions. My Mother-in-law, who was old and feeble, stood the privations
better than I did in my youth and strength, [perhaps her unselfish spirit
had something to do with it]. Had the War lasted another year I feel convinced
that I should have become a confirmed dyspeptic. The village in which we
refugied was beyond the probable range of either army. The people were very
good to us, they seemed to think that the next best thing to taking care of the
Soldiers, was to look after their refugeing families, as far as they could prevent
it we did not suffer. One farmer I remember sent us five large farm bags of
Meal, flour, potatoes and blackeyed peas, saying as the son, husband
and brother was in the Army it was proper that his loved ones should be provided
for by those who still enjoyed the comforts of home. Notwithstanding all the help
we received our privations were great but borne cheerfully for we knew the
Army was suffering more we could do. We had money, dear Confederate
notes, but there were many things we could not buy. The morning tea was
drawn over for the evening draught; and on both occasions taken without
sugar. Butter we never saw but as the gift of a neighbour. Happy the
refugee who had a good supply of light-wood for the evening fire,
without it darkness would have reigned supreme. On one occasion a
Richmond friend sent us a box of things that had run the blockade, there
were dress goods and other valuable articles, but nothing that gave us half
the pleasure that a fixture for giving light afforded. It turned out a failure
[page 18]
but it was delightful to contemplate while we had a hope that
it would burn. A Confederate candle was once given me, how
kind and thoughtful I thought the donor. Ten or more yards of candle
-wick covered with bees wax fancifully arranged around a stick on a
stand, formed the Confederate candle. A priceless pleasure while it lasted,
but like most pleasures it was ephemeral. Here we learned to braid
wheat, straw and form it into hats ornamented with flowers made of the same
material, fans made of feathers from the wing of the goose and many other
things. I once saw two girls dressed in plaid home-spun made up by themselves.
Their hats trimmed with bolls of Southern cotton. How pretty and fresh and
useful they looked. The amount of ingenuity that the War developed was quite
wonderful, also to above all we learned to do without if that can be said
to have been learned which has been so soon forgotten. These days of
simplicity are in strong contrast with the luxury of present times.
“Ah: luxury, then curs’d of Heaven’s decree
How ill exchanged are things like these for thee”?
Again I went to Richmond, and thus concieved the
idea of visiting my Mother still shut up in the enemy’s lines in the
City of Williamsburg. How this was to be accomplished became a problem
which was solved by my hearing that a wagon from the neighbourhood of
Williamsburg had come up freighted with provisions, that it would start
on its way back the next afternoon at 6 o’clock and that I could go in it.
This was enough, I asked no questions about the driver or anything else
that I ought to have considered. I was quite satisfied to learn that there
would be a woman along and to know that I was going. My passport
secured I found myself seated about nightfall in a long covered wagon
with a negro driver and no white man in the party. This had never
occurred to me. Though the time had been, and not far distant when
I should have felt no fear of a negro. But I had two loaded pistols &
[page 19]
and was so anxious to see my poor Mother, I had no time to think
how unsafe and improper my position before we were off. In less than
half an hour I would have given all I possessed to have been safely back in
Richmond. We met two covered carts going into the City. I begged the drivers to
carry one back, this they would willingly have done but that they were carrying
living animals to market and there was no room for me, had there been I
would have returned with them. This was my last chance. All night we
travelled on. I could see nothing but I knew we would still be in the Confederacy
until we reached the Chickahominy river and I kept up a brave spirit. The
white woman was civil, the driver did not presume to speak to me though
he talked quite familiarily to my companion. At last we reached the outskirts
of our Army on the banks of the Chickahominy, which it was necessary for us
to ford. Before taking the final plunge there was a moments pause and our
wagon was instantly surrounded by our soldiers clamorous for food, in a
rude and boisterous manner they insisted on searching the wagon. Not
knowing in the darkness that there was anyone hid away under its cover they boldly
thrust in their hands. I found the time had come for me to expostulate. I said a
few words and I never saw so instantaneous a change: Their manner at once
became respectful, they no longer thought of searching the wagon and when I ex
-pressed some fear of fording the river, I was assured no danger should
befall me while they could come to the rescue. Never in my life have I had
such a compliment to my womanhood. These chivalrous fellows recognized
a lady by the power of her voice alone. When I crossed that river I gathered up
my strength, felt for my pistols and did not sleep. I have never doubted a
Special Providence, and I have certainly been protected in many wonderful
ways, but in none more trying than my Peninsula Campaign. The next
night we had reached respectable but poor quarters. I slept in a clean bed
with the stars like angels eye shining on me through the roof. I was quite
touched by the solicitude of the woman [my travelling companion], for my comfort,
nor did she leave me until the third day when she placed me under the roof
of a Baptist Minister and in the care of his Wife. This lady was very Southern
[page 20]
and fearless in her expressions of patriotism. Aid and
comfort she constantly extended to every Confederate who came
within her reach. These things could not be overlooked or tolerated
by the Yankee soldiers at Williamsburg, therefore, towards the close of the
War a party of raiders set fire to her house and burned it to the ground
not allowing her to save so much as a bed. It was a fine old brick mansion.
It was decided by this lady and myself that I should
get yet nearer to Williamsburg. I therefore established myself with a
family living on the Mill Hill about a mile from the Town. Once there
I sent in to acquaint the Provost-Marshal with my vicinity and
requested permission to visit my Mother. This was refused and I was
denied the privilege of entering my own town, but I was told my
Mother and any friends might meet me at “The Lines.”? The Lines.
What are they! The College of William and Mary heads the Main
street of the Town, at this point the street branches leaving the College
in the embrace of two roads, one that on the right leading to Richmond,
that on the left more directly to James river. I came in by the last.
Across these roads just above the College a thick wire was thrown
and a Sentinel posted to prevent passage to and fro. Here on a certain
day in every week the country people were allowed to come and traffic
with the people of the Town, they availed themselves of the opportunity to
smuggle in and out letters and some of the stratagems resorted to to
elude the vigilance of the Yankee were both amusing and ingenious.
I have since thought that the Federals made it useful to themselves in
getting information from people disaffected to our cause, and I regret to say
there were a few such in the Country. To these Lines I went at and soon
saw my Mother, lovely young Sister and a host of friends approaching from
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the old City. Imagine their sensations in hearing once more news
direct from the Confederacy, in feeling even for a few moments
the uplifting of the heavy chains that galled them. We really
felt the Yankees to be very kind in giving us this much pleasure,
not at the time considering that they were usurpers and assumed an
at authority which might alone had given them. My Sister with a
dexterity truly marvelous transferred to my keeping silver forks &c that
I had left behind me. We met repeatedly at these Lines and each time
some valuable article found its way to me. We could not help thinking the
solitary sentinel did not watch us very closely, having some spark of
human feeling lingering in his breast. Once my Mother gave me a whole
box of candles I nearly betrayed it in my delight. Had I died in those days
I believe my last words would have been light, more light. At these
Lines there was a long row of roofless houses, the clouds of Heaven flitting
over looked in, and dreary desolation sat at the vacant windows. In
one of these cheerless places we determined to keep our Christmas in the year
1864. The snow was falling fast, but we put up our umbrellas, kindled
a fire, sat on such logs as we could find, eat our cake and drank toasts
to our Confederate heroes in the hearing of the Sentinel whose forbearance
we rewarded by giving him a glass of our wine, and then it was that he
expressed his sympathy for us in a manly frank manner that touched us.
Prisoners and Lunatics are grateful for very small favors. Here I heard
of the destruction of property in the Town, of the strict, oppressive rule,
and the thousand annoyances which were inflicted on the helpless
females of the place. I remained a week on the Mill Hill seeing my
Mother and sister as often as it was deemed prudent for me to do so, or
as I could get permission to do so. On one occasion the ladies with whom I
was staying and I started for a visit to the Baptist preacher though it
was a walk of several miles. He had made himself obnoxious to the
