A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland Part 27

"O no, some laughed, and one man said, 'Ah ha, you see now how sweet 'tis to tote the old block, don't you?'"

"Did he say that in his hearing?"

"O no, we's five rods off."

There were a number of houses burned down, May 28th, three miles beyond our lines. Mrs. Samantha Plumer inquired of Curlie, one of our boys of the home, if he would take us to that biggest house burning on the Moss plantation. No sooner was the suggestion made than Curlie got his ambulance ready for us, and we were soon in front of the smoldering mansion. The proprietor was raking over the debris for gold and silver or other imperishable treasure. Among the ashes; were hand-cuffs, chains, shackles, and other slave-irons. He was occupying one of his slave cabins, as the long row was vacated by seventy of his former slaves. He was said to be one of the wealthiest planters in Kentucky.

One year previous to the war, report said he lost seven valuable slaves, and one from each of three adjoining plantations escaped at the same time. After a consultation over their loss they placed the blame of their escape on a carpenter from Illinois, who had been a few weeks working at his trade in their midst. To be avenged on the poor carpenter, a band of men came upon him in the night, took him out of bed, gave him a coat of tar and feathers, and treated him to a ride on a rail-horse. Then they furnished him with soap and lard with which to disrobe himself, and charged him to leave the State within twelve hours, never to be seen there again, or a calamity far exceeding this would be his portion. All his a.s.sertions that he knew nothing whatever of their slaves were of no avail. He left the State as requested, but wrote back to the chief leader, Moss, that if an opportunity ever presented he would be avenged on those who had heaped upon him these abuses. Mr. Moss said he saw that same carpenter a few days previous to the house-burning, with three other men, in soldier's dress, but he did not believe he was a soldier, but only in borrowed clothes, as he did not think a Union soldier would do so mean a thing. An officer remarked, however, that he was a hard master and a firm secessionist, but was now very tame. On our way back Curlie informed us that he had taken us three miles beyond our lines, and we were very near being caught just opposite the line at the firing of the sundown gun. But with Curlie's earnest pleading the guards consented to allow us to cross the line.

In one cabin there were two quite intelligent mulatto women, better clad than any I had met in the camp, one of whom was the mother of three fine-looking children. I remarked to one of them that they had a better chance for life than others I had seen, and inquired how long they had been within our lines.

One of them answered, "Only ten days. Thar was thirty-three when we left our plantation seven miles below Memphis, 'bout three weeks ago, but some of our people stopped at Memphis when we came up the river."

As I was interested in her recital, she became more excited in giving details, and said:

"Mistess got mighty feared of black smoke, an' watched boats mighty close. One day as she was settin' on the sofa she say, Mill, I reckon thar's a gunboat comin'; see de black smoke, an if they do come, I reckon they won't fin' that trunk o' money, an' ches' of silver plate you put up in the lof t'other day.' Lookin' out for the boat, 'Yes that's a gunboat sure. Now, if the Yankees do stop, you all run and hide, won't you?' I looked too, but didn't answer till I see the big rope flung on the bank. An' mistess got wild-like. 'Yes, they are stoppin'. Mill an' Jule run, tell all the n.i.g.g.e.rs in the quarters to run to the woods an' hide; quick, for they kills n.i.g.g.e.rs. Mill, why don't you go? I said, 'I ain't feared the Yankees.' 'Jule, you run and tell all the n.i.g.g.e.rs to run to the woods, quick. Yes, here they are coming, right up to the house. Now, Mill, you won't go with them, will you?' As the men had started for the house I felt safe, and said, 'I'll go if I have a chance.' 'Jule, you won't go, will you?' 'I shall go if Mill goes.' She began to wring her hands and cry. 'Now, 'member I brought you up. You won't take your children away from me, will you, Mill?' 'Mistess, I shall take what childern I've got lef.' 'If they fine that trunk o' money or silver plate you'll say it's your'n, won't you?' 'Mistess, I can't lie over that; you bo't that silver plate when you sole my three children.' 'Now, Jule, you'll say it's yourn, won't you?' 'I can't lie over that either.' An' she was cryin' an' wringin'

her han's, an' weavin' to an' fro as she set thar. 'Yes, here they come, an' they'll rob me of every thing. Now, 'member I brought you up.' Here come in four sojers with swords hangin' to their sides, an'

never looked at mistess, but said to me, 'Auntie, you want to go with us?' 'Yes, sir,' I said, an' they look to Jule an' say, 'You want to go?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Well, you can all go; an' hurry, for we shall stay but a little while.' An' Jule jus' flew to the quarters, an' they all tied up beds an' every thing, an' tote 'em down, to the gunboats in a hurry. An' two sojers went up-stairs an' wa'n't gone but a few minutes, an' don't you think here they come, with that tin trunk o' money an'

ches' of silver plate, an' broke 'em open an' tuck out a big platter an' water-pitcher an' a few other pieces an' say, 'See here, Tom, haven't we foun' a prize of solid silver for gov'ment,' an' he put it all back. An' another open the trunk,' O, see here, Jim; see what a mine of money we foun' for General Veach,' as he tuck up a han'ful of gole an' silver money an' sif it through his fingers, droppin' in the trunk, sayin', 'Ain't we got a pile o' money for gov'ment.' An' he han'

it over to a sojer to tote to the gunboat. An' two ov 'em went down cellar an' come back with stone jars of b.u.t.ter, an' pezerves, an'

opened 'em. 'Tom, see here, what a lot of goodies we got; won't we live well?' An' he cover'd 'em up agin an' toted 'em to the gunboat. Then they broke open the meal-room, an' rolled out barrels of meal and flour, saved for secesh sojers, an' rolled 'em down to the gunboat.

An', last of all, they went to the smoke house, an' broke it open an'

got a lot of bacon. 'Now, auntie, you all ready,' they say? 'Yes, sir,'

I tell 'em. 'Here's a roll of linsey for our cloze, shall we take it?'

'Certainly, an' any thing else you'r a mine to.' As we started for the door mistess followed us cryin' an' wringin' her han's. 'Now, Mill an'

Jule, I know you'll suffer when you leave me.' One o' the sojers turn to her and said, 'They won't suffer again as they have done with you.'

An' this was the firs' words she spoke after they come in, an' the firs' they said to her. An' we all got on the boat in a hurry; an' when we's fairly out in the middle' of the river, we all give three times three cheers for the gunboat boys, and three times three cheers for big Yankee sojers, an' three times three cheers for gov'ment; an' I tell you every one of us, big and little, cheered loud and long and strong, an' made the old river just ring ag'in."

She became so excited she acted the part of her mistress admirably in the half-bent, whining, crying, and wringing of hands, as she followed them to the door.

"How did you feel about that silver plate that was bought with the price of your three children? Didn't you think you ought to have it?"

"O'no, I couldn't touch it. It was part o' my poor dear childern; but I didn't want mistess to keep it. I was glad to see it go to gov'ment."

The tears coursed down her care-worn cheeks as she related the sale of her three older children.

"I fell upon my knees afore master an' mistess, an' begged 'em not to sell my poor childern down the river, whar I could never see or hear from 'em any more. But master say it's none o' my business, an' I should stop my noise, or he'd have me punished. An' mistess say she won't have all this cryin' round her. 'Your childern belongs to us, an'

you know it; an' it's not for you to make all this fuss over it, either.' I said, 'Mistess, wouldn't you grieve over your childern, if somebody take 'em from you?' 'You hush your sauce, or I'll have you punished. That's another thing; my childern's white.' An' then they had me punished."

Her husband was sent, with many others, to what they called the "big plantation," in the interior. She said her master was a "big man" in the secesh army. I found they called all officers big men. After she finished her story I told her I saw the seven she said went to Memphis, a few days before they left, and how Aunt Peggy begged me so hard to tell the big man that they all wanted to come. And to impress me with the idea that the mistress could do without slaves, she told me about the trunk of money and chest of silver plate; but I had no more idea of its being confiscated than had Aunt Peggy in her appeal.

My attention from this episode was arrested by another scene of a different character, but truly revolting--a young mother of only fourteen years, with a very sick infant, pale and emaciated herself; the grandmother of a very light complexion, and the great-grandmother a mulatto. All these four generations were the children of their old master, whose hair was white with age. He was the father of the great-grandmother, and of each generation to the fourth, and master, all in one. As revolting as this fact was, I was compelled to believe it, as his former slaves told me of his licentious character from his early youth to eighty years! He was never married, and was the owner of a large plantation, and his many slaves sought the first opportunity to make their escape. The condition of these women was truly appalling, and the history of their base and degraded master and father too revolting for the public eye or ear! I turned away with utter disgust at their recitals. The child soon died, and I thought it seemed a pity that its demented mother could not have gone with it; but I did what I could to relieve their wants.

The hospitals at this post were tolerably well cared for, except one regimental hospital, where were a number of sick and emaciated soldiers, who had no pillows but their haversacks, and no covering but their overcoats, and they piteously begged for milk. I went to their surgeon, and inquired whether boiled milk would not be allowed for those men who were so low with camp diarrhea, and whether I could not bring them quilts and pillows. "Madam, you can bring them milk, or any thing you've named; but I tell you, if you undertake to listen to all these soldiers' teasing, you'll have your hands full. As like as not, any way, they'll trade whatever you give them for whisky the first chance they have." I could not sleep until I secured the aid of two soldiers to go with me to carry milk, pillows, and quilts for those sick men. Their tears of grat.i.tude, as I handed each his bottle of milk, and placed a pillow under their heads, and a quilt for those who had only an overcoat for a covering, paid me well. I returned to the Soldiers' Home quite relieved, but wearied and sick, with a severe cough, that had followed me for more than a month. I found it necessary to hasten home to rest.

I left this field of suffering and constant excitement May 30th, for dear home and anxious children and friends. A few days' rest restored health and strength, but we were not relieved from excitement. Our princ.i.p.al, E A. Haight, enlisted soon after closing the Spring term of our school. Preparation for another school-year was before me, beside the necessity of calling on friends in various places for supplies. I was informed by officers that I could now secure pa.s.ses and transportation for an a.s.sistant as readily as for myself alone. My school vacation was fully occupied in preparing for the following academic year, and in looking for a congenial companion to share with me in this work,--one who was willing to sacrifice all upon our country's altar.

CHAPTER XI.

SANITARY WORK.

We found a necessity for organized work, and formed a Freedmen's Relief a.s.sociation, in Detroit, with Captain E. B. Ward, president; Rev.

William Webb, vice-president; Benjamin C. Durfee, secretary; and Francis Raymond, treasurer. These did what they could in gathering supplies in that city for me to take South the coming Autumn. Brother Aldrich was engaged to act as princ.i.p.al of Raisin Inst.i.tute, and this gave me leisure to hold meetings in towns and county school-houses for soliciting help for my Southern work. During vacation our two halls were made ready for opening the Academic Year, as usual, on the first Wednesday in September, 1863-4. The school, though smaller than before the war, opened with fair prospects, and I felt at liberty to leave.

The inst.i.tution, being in competent hands, I obtained as a companion in labor one of the most devoted of Christian woman, my dear sister, Let.i.tia Backus, of Pittsford, Michigan. With a car-load of supplies we left our homes for fields of greatest suffering, where least help was found. Well furnished with doc.u.ments from our governor, Austin P.

Blair, and two members of Congress, we secured pa.s.ses to Chicago and return, then to Cairo and return, and from thence to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Waiting a few days at Cairo, for our supplies to reach us, we visited the hospitals and camps. Here we met a company of men who were called "Jay-hawkers." They were all tall, large men. One of these carried the treasure-bag, but I do not think he was a Judas to the government. A pillow-case was nearly half full of gold and silver watches, diamonds, and gold jewelry, which they said was confiscated for the government. They said wealth gave the rebellion strength, no matter in what it consisted.

After the arrival of our supplies we took a steamer down the Mississippi, and stopped a short time at Columbus. A little before landing I discovered an Irish woman had in her possession a six-quart tin pail of whisky, and a gallon jug that she seemed very careful to keep out of sight under the sofa; I took a seat by her side, and knew I could not be mistaken as to the contents of her pail and jug, and as I understood it was a forbidden article, I penciled on the margin of my official paper to the inspector to look well to the whisky the woman at my side had in her possession. As he came to inquire for my baggage to inspect, I told him where he would find it, and he would see by my papers what were their probable contents. Taking a look at the lady by my side, as he handed back my papers he remarked, "I think I'll not take the trouble to inspect your baggage, as I see you are all right."

As we were going ash.o.r.e, my red-shawled companion carefully gathered her pail and jug under her shawl at each side of her, and hurried to bury herself in the crowd. The inspector followed closely, and as he took hold of the pail to see what she had hanging on her arm, in her effort to get away from him it fell on the cabin carpet. As the cover came off we had quite a shower of whisky about our feet. At this the jug was seized by the inspector, amid shouts of "Good, good," and the laughter of the crowd, with muttering and swearing by the Irish woman.

She hastened out of the crowd, leaving her pail and jug behind her.

At the Soldiers' Home we found Samantha Plummer and her excellent a.s.sistant. The following three days we spent in visiting hospitals.

Hospital No. 2 was miserably cared for. The matron was a Southern woman, who had lost her husband in the Confederate army, but she professed to be a Union woman, and said her husband would never have gone on that side but for compulsion. Our officers seemed to pity her and her two daughters, and gave them a home in the hospital. The mother held the position of nurse, but not one of the three was a suitable person to be there. The sick and wounded soldiers did not look as if their beds or apparel had been changed in two weeks. The floor was filthy, and the scent was sufficient to sicken well people. From the appearance of the wash-boiler, running over with dried apples that were being boiled without care, I judged every thing to be done after the same style. I inquired of one of the convalescents in the yard when their supper hour was, and proposed to return to see how the brethren fared. Sister Backus was rather fearful I might make matters worse, as they might suspect we had an object in revisiting the hospital so soon; but we were on hand to see the burned and sour biscuits dealt out to those sick and wounded soldiers, with the half-stewed apples, and a choice given between rancid b.u.t.ter and a poor quality of black mola.s.ses. I hoped to see something better when the pail with a spout appeared, out of which was turned a substance half way between pudding and porridge, I asked if it was farina. "It's corn meal mush," and mush it was, running all through whatever was on the plate. I pa.s.sed from one plate to another, tasting the biscuits and cutting pieces of apple to see if I could find one without an uncooked center, but with little success.

In going around I came to half a dozen of the boys trying to while the time away with a pack of cards. Having an armful of Testaments, I proposed to make an exchange. This was readily agreed to, as each of them had left his home with one, but had lost it in battle or storm. I gave them advice to commit at least one verse from their Testaments daily while in the army, and each promised to do so.

All this time of investigating their supper and making this bargain, sister Backus was busily engaging the attention of the matron. I left that hospital with a heavy heart, and spent a sleepless night. I told sister Backus I must remain there until that hospital was renovated. I wanted to go into it and "make things fly," right and left, if there was no other way. In the morning I found the medical director, and asked if he had visited Hospital No. 2 recently. He said he had not, but thought the surgeon having charge of that hospital a very clever sort of a man.

"I think there is not a single officer in that establishment," said I, "that is at all suitable to be there. Perhaps that surgeon is too clever. I tell you he is defective, or he would not allow such a hospital as that under his charge. But I find I am ahead of myself. You may take me to be some nervous mother, but I only claim to be a representative of common-sense women. Here are papers from the governor of my State, and from two members of Congress."

After reading them he said, "I will take up that hospital within two weeks, I think."

"Two weeks!" I exclaimed; "many of those soldiers will die before that time. I can not leave them for two weeks."

"Then I will tell you what I will do; I will bring the sickest ones here to this hospital, and put the rest on a boat and take them to Mound City, to the United States Hospital, and take up No. 2 within three days."

"That will do," I said; "I am satisfied with Mound City Hospital, and with this one. If you will do this I will go on to-day with our supplies for Vicksburg, Mississippi."

"Mrs. Haviland, it shall be done within three days," he replied, and I left him with a lighter heart.

We went on our way with a number of officers and soldiers on board. As we were on the boat over Sunday, I asked permission of the captain to talk to the soldiers. He gave me leave, saying it was a very unsuitable place for ladies on the rear deck, over cattle, sheep, and hogs, but they would prepare a place as soon as possible. While preparation was being made, a young man who had been studying for the ministry of the c.u.mberland Presbyterian Church, proposed to the captain to address the soldiers. As he was a minister the captain came and informed me that he had granted his request. I told him I supposed we could attend.

"Certainly, certainly, if you like, only as I told you, it is an unpleasant place for ladies." Unpleasant as it was, we listened to a long sermon, and remained a few minutes longer to give the boys a mother's advice, as they were leaving their Northern homes, not to allow themselves to become demoralized by the many dangers and hards.h.i.+ps they would have to endure.

About 8 o'clock the boat stopped a little below Napoleon, Arkansas, to wood. As it was very dark, our torches were lighted, and we saw a light advancing so fast on the bank that I thought it must be borne on horseback. "No, it's too low," said a woman standing near me. But it went out as soon as it came to the landing, and our light was immediately extinguished, the cable was drawn back, the men leaped aboard, and the boat was wheeled so suddenly into the stream that there was great danger of bursting the boiler. We heard many inquiries as to what was the matter. But the fact ran quickly over the boat that there were guerrillas after us. The running lantern we saw was carried by an old white man, who overheard the talk of more than forty men, who were secreted in a clump of trees and bushes near the landing. They had planned to capture the first steamer that stopped to wood at that place, to take all on the boat as prisoners, strip it of everything on board, and let it float down the river. The old man told the men not to let it be known, if we were captured, that he had informed them of this, as it would cost him his life. Such a scene of excitement I never witnessed; men, as well as women, turned pale, and their voices trembled. Yet many of them flew to their card tables, expecting every moment to be shot into, and trembling with fear so as hardly to be able to hold their cards. The captain said if pouring tar into the furnace would send us beyond a bayou near by before they could overtake us, he thought we should escape. After pa.s.sing that point our colonel came to me and asked after my companion. I told him as she was not well she had retired very early, and I thought she had better not know any thing of this excitement until morning, If we should escape; if not, it was time for her to become excited when we were taken.

"How do you feel in such an hour as this?" he asked.

"The G.o.d of Daniel lives at this hour," I answered, "and in him I trust."

"I see, you take it coolly," he replied, and looked surprised. I told him I pitied those card-players, for it was a hard play for them, while standing face to face with danger. "You see it is an effort," he replied, "to keep danger out of mind as much as possible."

"But see their pale faces and trembling hands. O, what a poor subst.i.tute they have for substantial trust in an Almighty Power! You see that gentleman and his wife sitting on the other side of the cabin.

They are calm and perfectly composed; they, too, have their pocket Bible in hand. They are trusting children of the Most High, no doubt."

He thoughtfully looked over that crowded cabin a moment, and walked away.

Very few retired before 12 o'clock, and those men and women were all that time making an effort to quiet their nerves at their card-table.