Memories | Page 6

Fannie A. Beers
privates. As soon as my name was known, some one who evidently appreciated the situation rushed off in hot haste to notify and relieve the soldier most interested. Meantime a dozen hands clasped mine in kindly greeting. To whom they belonged I could not tell, for the dense shade shut out the moonlight, and seen by the light of the camp-fires, disguised as each one was in the rough garb of a soldier, my quondam city friends wore quite unrecognizable.
I will leave to the imagination of the reader the happy meeting between long-parted ones and the many caresses showered upon our child.
I had expected nothing better than to spend the night in the ambulance or under a tent, and would have taken great pride in "camping out," but the chivalrous officers in command would not hear of such a plan. Their quarters (two rooms in a little log house) were instantly vacated, and I had scarcely descended from the vehicle when a negro man appeared, to bring a message. "De Major's compliments, mistis, and de room am ready." I could not have been bidden to a luxurious apartment with more ceremony.
The next morning the shrill sound of the fife and the drum beating the "reveille" aroused us, and we were up with the sun.
The scene was entrancing; to me particularly so, for the white tents gleaming among the trees reminded me that I was among Southern soldiers. As they strode to and fro with martial air, fully armed and equipped to answer roll-call, or bent over the camp-fires preparing breakfast, it seemed to me that no such splendid soldiers were ever before seen. Several invitations to breakfast were received; that of the officers' mess, having been first, was accepted.
Major ---- came in person to escort his guests to a lovely spot near the cabin, where, under a large shady oak, upon a table of rough boards covered with a nice white cloth, a delicious meal was set, consisting of broiled chickens, omelet, fragrant coffee, buttermilk, corn bread, and batter-cakes. A likely young negro boy attended at table, industriously flourishing a green branch to keep away the flies, and seemingly delighted to show off his company manners.
After breakfast I sat long upon the little gallery of the log cabin entertaining soldier visitors and enjoying the situation with all my heart. I soon discovered, however, an air of sadness and restraint which was unaccountable until my husband told me of the death of the gallant Dreux, the first martyr of the war. Ah! then I knew. Struggle as they might, their brave hearts were wrung with anguish, for their gallant leader had succumbed to the only conqueror he ever knew. The impassioned oratory that had never failed to fire the hearts of men was hushed forever. The ardent patriotism ever prompting to deeds of daring was now only a memory. The brilliant intellect and administrative ability so early recognized, so highly valued, were lost to the Confederacy.
I no longer wondered that manly brows were clouded, or that the eyes of soldiers moistened, as, even amidst pleasant conversation, a sudden remembrance of their loss overcame them. For them the memory of that death-scene was fresh. The echo of his last brave words had not yet died away: "_Steady, boys_, steady," as if he would have said, "Let not my fate appall; still do your duty."
Before the sun was high the ambulance reappeared to convey our party as far as Williamsburg, where young Little was to remain until he could hear from his father; I and my boy were to go on to Richmond. My husband was granted a furlough of two days that he might escort his family as far as Williamsburg. As may be imagined, the ride was most delightful. Although often oppressed by thoughts of the parting hour so rapidly approaching, we were at times charmed into forgetfulness, and keen enjoyment of the beautiful scenery and the incidents of the journey. I now, for the first time, began to use from my little store of gold and silver, and it proved the "open sesame" to much enjoyment. Watermelons and other fruit, roasting ears, buttermilk, etc., were purchased without stint, also a chicken. At noon the little party camped in a grove by the roadside, where my soldier-husband proudly showed off his new attainments in the way of cooking. The dinner was pronounced "just splendid" by the appreciative guests. Our boy having gorged himself, fell asleep upon the grass; the negro driver was sent off to buy a few dainties to send back to friends in camp, and the two so lately reunited--so soon to part--enjoyed for the first time an uninterrupted talk relating to the adventures that each had met with since our parting in New Orleans. I unfolded my plans
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 128
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.