Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War | Page 8

the surrounding plantations went to
work to get up a festival to equip the new company. As Annie and
myself are both brides recently from the city, requisition was made
upon us for engravings, costumes, music, garlands, and so forth.
Annie's heart was in the work; not so with me. Nevertheless, my pretty
things were captured, and shone with just as good a grace last evening
as if willingly lent. The ball was a merry one. One of the songs sung
was "Nellie Gray," in which the most distressing feature of slavery is
bewailed so pitifully. To sing this at a festival for raising money to
clothe soldiers fighting to perpetuate that very thing was strange.
March 20, 1862.--A man professing to act by General Hindman's
orders is going through the country impressing horses and mules. The
overseer of a certain estate came to inquire of H. if he had not a legal
right to protect the property from seizure. Mr. L. said yes, unless the
agent could show some better credentials than his bare word. This
answer soon spread about, and the overseer returned to report that it
excited great indignation, especially among the company of new
volunteers. H. was pronounced a traitor, and they declared that no one
so untrue to the Confederacy should live there. When H. related the
circumstance at dinner, his partner, Mr. R., became very angry, being
ignorant of H.'s real opinions. He jumped up in a rage and marched
away to the village thoroughfare. There he met a batch of the
volunteers, and said, "We know what you have said of us, and I have
come to tell you that you are liars, and you know where to find us."
Of course I expected a difficulty; but the evening passed, and we retired
undisturbed. Not long afterward a series of indescribable sounds broke

the stillness of the night, and the tramp of feet was heard outside the
house. Mr. R. called out, "It's a serenade, H. Get up and bring out all
the wine you have." Annie and I peeped through the parlor window,
and lo! it was the company of volunteers and a diabolical band
composed of bones and broken-winded brass instruments. They piped
and clattered and whined for some time, and then swarmed in, while we
ladies retreated and listened to the clink of glasses.
March 22.--H., Mr. R., and Mike have been very busy the last few days
getting the acre of kitchen-garden plowed and planted. The stay-law
has stopped all legal business, and they have welcomed this work. But
to-day a thunderbolt fell in our household. Mr. R. came in and
announced that he had agreed to join the company of volunteers.
Annie's Confederate principles would not permit her to make much
resistance, and she has been sewing and mending as fast as possible to
get his clothes ready, stopping now and then to wipe her eyes. Poor
Annie! She and Max have been married only a few months longer than
we have; but a noble sense of duty animates and sustains her.

VII
THE FIGHT FOR FOOD AND CLOTHING
April 1.--The last ten days have brought changes in the house. Max R.
left with the company to be mustered in, leaving with us his weeping
Annie. Hardly were her spirits somewhat composed when her brother
arrived from Natchez to take her home. This morning he, Annie, and
Reeney, the black handmaiden, posted off. Out of seven of us only H.,
myself, and Aunt Judy are left. The absence of Reeney will be not the
least noted. She was as precious an imp as any Topsy ever was. Her
tricks were endless and her innocence of them amazing. When sent out
to bring in eggs she would take them from nests where hens were
hatching, and embryo chickens would be served up at breakfast, while
Reeney stood by grinning to see them opened; but when accused she
was imperturbable. "Laws, Mis' L., I nebber done bin nigh dem hens.
Mis' Annie, you can go count dem dere eggs." That when counted they

were found minus the number she had brought had no effect on her
stolid denial. H. has plenty to do finishing the garden all by himself, but
the time rather drags for me.
April 13, 1862.--This morning I was sewing up a rent in H.'s garden
coat, when Aunt Judy rushed in.
"Laws! Mis' L., here's Mr. Max and Mis' Annie done come back!" A
buggy was coming up with Max, Annie, and Reeney.
"Well, is the war over?" I asked.
"Oh, I got sick!" replied our returned soldier, getting slowly out of the
buggy.
He was very thin and pale, and explained that he took a severe cold
almost at once, had a mild attack of pneumonia,