Strange True Stories of Louisiana
Page 58
XIII.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE SIEGE.
_Vicksburg, May 1st, 1863._--Ever since we were deprived of our cave, Ihad been dreading that H. would suggest sending me to the country, wherehis relatives live. As he could not leave his position and go also withoutbeing conscripted, and as I felt certain an army would get between us, itwas no part of my plan to be obedient. A shell from one of the practicingmortars brought the point to an issue yesterday and settled it. Sitting atwork as usual, listening to the distant sound of bursting shells,apparently aimed at the court-house, there suddenly came a nearerexplosion; the house shook, and a tearing sound was followed by terrifiedscreams from the kitchen. I rushed thither, but met in the hall the cook'slittle girl America, bleeding from a wound in the forehead, and fairlydancing with fright and pain, while she uttered fearful yells. I stoppedto examine the wound, and her mother bounded in, her black face ashy fromterror. "Oh! Miss G., my child is killed and the kitchen tore up." SeeingAmerica was too lively to have been killed, I consoled Martha and hastenedto the kitchen. Evidently a shell had exploded just outside, sending threeor four pieces through. When order was restored I endeavored to impress onMartha's mind the uselessness of such excitement. Looking round at theclose of the lecture, there stood a group of Confederate soldierslaughing heartily at my sermon and the promising audience I had. Theychimed in with a parting chorus:
"Yes, it's no use hollerin', old lady."
"Oh! H.," I exclaimed, as he entered soon after, "America is wounded."
"That is no news; she has been wounded by traitors long ago."
"Oh, this is real, living, little, black America. I am not talking insymbols. Here are the pieces of shell, the first bolt of the comingsiege."
"Now you see," he replied, "that this house will be but paper tomortar-shells. You must go into the country."
The argument was long, but when a woman is obstinate and eloquent, shegenerally conquers. I came off victorious, and we finished preparationsfor the siege to-day. Hiring a man to assist, we descended to thewine-cellar, where the accumulated bottles told of festive hours longsince departed. To empty this cellar was the work of many hours. Then inthe safest corner a platform was laid for our bed, and in another portionone arranged for Martha. The dungeon, as I call it, is lighted only by atrap-door, and is very damp. The next question was of supplies. I hadnothing left but a sack of rice-flour, and no manner of cooking I hadheard or invented contrived to make it eatable. A column of recipes formaking delicious preparations of it had been going the rounds ofConfederate papers. I tried them all; they resulted only in brick-bats, orsticky paste. H. sallied out on a hunt for provisions, and when hereturned the disproportionate quantity of the different articles provokeda smile. There was a _hogshead_ of sugar, a barrel of sirup, ten pounds ofbacon and pease, four pounds of wheat-flour, and a small sack ofcorn-meal, a little vinegar, and actually some spice! The wheat-flour hepurchased for ten dollars as a special favor from the sole remainingbarrel for sale. We decided that must be kept for sickness. The sack ofmeal, he said, was a case of corruption, though a special providence tous. There is no more for sale at any price, but, said he, "a soldier whowas hauling some of the Government sacks to the hospital offered me thisfor five dollars, if I could keep a secret. When the meal is exhausted,perhaps we can keep alive on sugar. Here are some wax candles; hoard themlike gold." He handed me a parcel containing about two pounds of candles,and left me to arrange my treasures. It would be hard for me to picturethe memories those candles called up. The long years melted away, and I
"Trod again my childhood's track And felt its very gladness."
In those childish days, whenever came dreams of household splendor orfestal rooms or gay illuminations, the lights in my vision were always waxcandles burning with a soft radiance that enchanted every scene.... And,lo! here on this spring day of '63, with war raging through the land, Iwas in a fine house, and had my wax candles sure enough, but, alas! theywere neither cerulean blue nor rose-tinted, but dirty brown; and when Ilighted one, it spluttered and wasted like any vulgar, tallow thing, andlighted only a desolate scene in the vast handsome room. They were not sogood as the waxen rope we had made in Arkansas. So, with a long sigh forthe dreams of youth, I return to the stern present in this besieged town,my only consolation to remember the old axiom, "A city besieged is a citytaken,"--so if we live through it we shall be out of the Confederacy. H.is very tired of having to carry a pass around in his pocket and go everynow and then to have it renewed. We have been so very free in America,these restrictions are irksome.
_May 9th, 1863_.--This morning the door-bell rang a startling peal. Marthabeing busy; I answered it. An orderly in gray stood with an officialenvelope in his hand.
"Who lives here?"
"Mr. L."
Very imperiously--"Which Mr. L.?"
"Mr. H.L."
"Is he here?"
"No."
"Where can he be found?"
"At the office of Deputy----."
"I'm not going there. This is an order from General Pemberton for you tomove out of this house in two hours. He has selected it for headquarters.He will furnish you with wagons.".
"Will he furnish another house also?"
"Of course not."
"Has the owner been consulted?"
"He has not; that is of no consequence; it has been taken. Take thisorder."
"I shall not take it, and I shall not move, as there is no place to moveto but the street."
"Then I'll take it to Mr. L."
"Very well, do so."
As soon as Mr. Impertine walked off I locked, bolted, and barred everydoor and window. In ten minutes H. came home.
"Hold the fort till I've seen the owner and the general," he said, as Ilocked him out.
Then Dr. B.'s remark in New Orleans about the effect of Dr. C.'s finepresence on the Confederate officials there came to my mind. They areinfluenced in that way, I thought; I look rather shabby now, I will dress.I made an elaborate toilet, put on the best and most becoming dress I had,the richest lace, the handsomest ornaments, taking care that all should beappropriate to a morning visit; dressed my hair in the stateliest braids,and took a seat in the parlor ready for the fray. H. came to the windowand said:
"Landlord says, 'Keep them out. Wouldn't let them have his house at anyprice.' He is just riding off to the country and can't help us now. NowI'm going to see Major C, who sent the order."
Next came an officer, banged at the door till tired, and walked away. Thenthe orderly came again and beat the door--same result. Next, four officerswith bundles and lunch-baskets, followed by a wagon-load of furniture.They went round the house, tried every door, peeped in the windows,pounded and rapped, while I watched them through the blind-slats.Presently the fattest one, a real Falstaffian man, came back to the frontdoor and rung a thundering peal. I saw the chance for fun and for puttingon their own grandiloquent style. Stealing on tiptoe to the door, I turnedthe key and bolt noiselessly, and suddenly threw wide back the door, andappeared behind it. He had been leaning on it, and nearly pitched forwardwith an "Oh! what's this?" Then seeing me as he straightened up, "Ah,madam!" almost stuttering from surprise and anger, "are you aware I hadthe right to break down this door if you hadn't opened it?"
"That would make no difference to me. I'm not the owner. You or thelandlord would pay the bill for the repairs."
"Why didn't you open the door?"
"Have I not done so as soon as you rung? A lady does not open the door tomen who beat on it. Gentlemen usually ring; I thought it might bestragglers pounding."
"Well," growing much blander, "we are going to send you some wagons tomove; you must get ready."
"With pleasure, if you have selected a house for me. This is too large; itdoes not suit me."
"No, I didn't find a house for you."
"You surely don't expect _me_ to run about in the dust and shelling tolook for it, and Mr. L. is too busy."
"Well, madam, then we must share t
he house. We will take the lower floor."
"I prefer to keep the lower floor myself; you surely don't expect _me_ togo up and down stairs when you are so light and more able to do it."
He walked through the hall, trying the doors. "What room is that?"--"Theparlor." "And this?"--"My bedroom." "And this?"--"The dining-room."
"Well, madam, we'll find you a house and then come and take this."
"Thank you, colonel. I shall be ready when you find the house. Goodmorning, sir."
I heard him say as he ran down the steps, "We must go back, captain; yousee I didn't know they were this kind of people."
Of course the orderly had lied in the beginning to scare me, for GeneralPemberton is too far away from Vicksburg to send such an order. He islooking about for General Grant. We are told he has gone out to meetJohnston; and together they expect to annihilate Grant's army and freeVicksburg forever. There is now a general hospital opposite this house anda small-pox hospital next door. War, famine, pestilence, and fire surroundus. Every day the band plays in front of the small-pox hospital. I wonderif it is to keep up their spirits? One would suppose quiet would be morecheering.
_May 17th, 1863_.--Hardly was our scanty breakfast over this morning whena hurried ring drew us both to the door. Mr. J., one of H.'s assistants,stood there in high excitement.
"Well, Mr. L., they are upon us; the Yankees will be here by thisevening."
"What do you mean?"
"That Pemberton has been whipped at Baker's Creek and Big Black, and hisarmy are running back here as fast as they can come and the Yanks afterthem, in such numbers nothing can stop them. Hasn't Pemberton acted like afool?"
"He may not be the only one to blame," replied H.
"They're coming along the Big B. road, and my folks went down there to besafe, you know; now they're right in it. I hear you can't see the armiesfor the dust; never was anything else known like it. But I must go and tryto bring my folks back here."
What struck us both was the absence of that concern to be expected, and asort of relief or suppressed pleasure. After twelve some worn-out-lookingmen sat down under the window.
"What is the news?" I inquired.
"Retreat, retreat!" they said, in broken English--they were LouisianaAcadians.
About 3 o'clock the rush began. I shall never forget that woful sight of abeaten, demoralized army that came rushing back,--humanity in the lastthroes of endurance. Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, footsore, bloody, the menlimped along unarmed, but followed by siege-guns, ambulances,gun-carriages, and wagons in aimless confusion. At twilight two or threebands on the court-house hill and other points began playing Dixie, BonnieBlue Flag, and so on, and drums began to beat all about; I suppose theywere rallying the scattered army.