AUNT SELINA’S CIVIL WAR STORY
The children thoroughly enjoyed their refreshments. Aunt Selina did not care for any, so she sat smiling as she watched them.
“As long as Flutey isn’t busy, wouldn’t it be nice to have her tell us a teeny-weeny bit of that war story?” ventured Dot Starr.
“Oh, yes! Please do! Flutey, do tell!” came from various directions.
“Why, that would be lovely, Aunt Selina, if you will,” added Mrs. Talmage.
Thus besieged, Aunt Selina decided to yield to the children.
“Let me see,” she began. “I must have been about eighteen when my dearest friend, Rebecca Crudup, invited me to spend Easter Holidays at her Southern home. We had been chums from the moment we met at Miss Wyland’s Seminary for Young Ladies, and the Christmas before the time I just mentioned, Rebecca had visited my home at Happy Hills. Mother liked Rebecca immensely, but she feared the fighting in the South might create trouble for me if I went with Becky. We reassured her, however, and an unwilling consent was written from home.
“A week before the vacation began, Becky received a letter asking her to start home as soon as she received the word, as important matters in the family had to be looked after.
“As this would give us an extra week’s holiday we hailed the letter with joy. The girls stood about enviously watching us pack our carpetbags and Rebecca’s trunk. I packed many of my things in her trunk to save the trouble of transporting two to Tennessee. We left the next morning ’midst shouts reminding us to be sure to be on hand when school re-opened.
“We enjoyed the journey during the first part of the way, but, as the train sped on, the country showed signs of the desolation wrought by war, and we sobered from our happy laughter to serious contemplation.
“The nearer to Nashville that we came, the deeper the evidence that war was an awful thing. We saw burned homes, devastated land and forlorn-looking families as we passed by.
“Rebecca’s father met us at the station in Nashville and welcomed me with a surprised manner. Turning to his daughter, he spoke in a serious tone.
“‘We will endeavor to give your friend an enjoyable visit, daughter, but it doesn’t seem promisin’. Evidently you did not receive our telegram?’
“‘Only this letter, father,’ replied Becky, showing him the last letter received by her.
“‘Hum! well, we will live up to our reputation, Miss Selina, and be the true Southern hosts.’
“As we came out of the station and walked toward the carriage-posts, Rebecca looked about for the family equipage.
“Mr. Crudup led us toward a great spring wagon which was drawn by two raw-boned farm horses. An old darky sat on the front seat.
“‘Why, father! Surely we are not going home in this!’ cried Rebecca with deep chagrin.
“‘Sorry, daughter, but it must be so,’ returned her father in a grieved voice. ‘You will find many changes here since the fightin’ began.’
“‘Selina, I’m awful sorry you have to ride this way, and I can’t understand why it is. Father seems to know,’ said Becky, in an apologetic tone.
“‘I don’t mind, Becky. Really and truly, I don’t. I love the country so, that I would just as soon ride a plow if we had to, to get to your home.’
“‘Well, I’m glad your little friend is so sensible, Rebecca,’ commended Mr. Crudup.
“We climbed into the back seat after the baggage had been stowed away, and the horses started off.
“‘Father, why didn’t you drive Jerry and Jim?’ asked Rebecca, wonderingly.
“‘Becky, your brothers, I trust, are astride them, showin’ the Yankees how to fight!’
“‘Daddy!’ cried Rebecca in dismay.
“Mr. Crudup looked dreadfully sorry, but said nothing.
“‘Daddy, have Newell and Ed left home?’
“‘Yes, child. And I’m mighty sorry to say that most of your friends and cousins are with them. Some will nevah return—but we are prayin’ constant, that our boys will win honahs for the South—and come home to enjoy them.’
“Becky and I sat as stiff as sticks as we realized what this meant.
“‘Still, I don’t see why some of our carriage horses couldn’t have come for us!’ insisted Rebecca.
“‘The horses have been used by some of the boys who had none, and the spring wagon has to come in often with supplies for the troops. This happened to be one of the days. So mothaw thought her girl would not mind, particularly as we believed you received the telegram,’ explained Mr. Crudup.
“I was almost sorry I had come, so unexpected did my appearance seem to be, but Becky cheered up when she saw me grow uncomfortable, and tried to amuse me by pointing out neighboring plantations.
“As we drove about a bend in the road, Rebecca’s beautiful old home could be seen situated upon a knoll that commanded a view of the surrounding country. We entered the grounds by a road that ran through a dense wood, and then ascended gradually until we reached the porte-cochère. The house itself, large, solid and in perfect condition, was a landmark from every point of view round-about.
“Mrs. Crudup and her two older daughters welcomed me to their home and made me feel more at ease. Rebecca, being the youngest member of the family, was petted and made much of, and I came in for my share of it for being her best friend.
“After our baggage was placed in our rooms, we were escorted upstairs and left to prepare for dinner, which was generally at noon, but had been delayed for Rebecca’s arrival.
“My, but that was a delicious dinner! I can almost taste the tender chicken with corn waffles, hot and crisp, this minute!
“Not a word had been said about the reason of calling Rebecca home a week earlier than usual. Toward evening, however, vehicles of all descriptions drove to the side yard and were left to the care of the negro servants. As the neighbors came to the house they went directly to a large room which had been closed and locked since our arrival, until now. Rebecca and I were invited to join the sewing meeting, but neither of us liked sewing, and we had planned to visit the horses before it grew too dark. However, I saw heaps of flannel garments, half-finished socks on knitting needles, warm caps, and clothes of all kinds being made up for the Confederate soldiers.
“Becky and I strolled down toward the stables, but it was too dark to inspect the thoroughbreds I had heard so much about, so we returned to the house.
“As we passed the great barn we saw men busily engaged in packing all kinds of produce and supplies in long hemp sacks to be carted to Nashville the following day. In the sewing room the ladies were still plying needles that flashed in and out as if speed would save a life.
“At eight o’clock a hot supper was served, and at nine the neighbors left for their homes.
“That night, after we retired to our rooms, Rebecca came into my room for a cozy chat. She looked very pretty as she sat on the corner of the bed hugging her knees up in her arms.
“‘Selina, it’s a shame you are dragged into such a vacation! I declare, had I known that all of the boys were away, nothing would have tempted me to bring you. Even the girls are too busy sewing for their sweethearts to bother with parties or sociables,’ pouted Rebecca.
“‘I came to visit you—not to see the boys or go to parties, and I want you to believe that I don’t mind a bit having you all to myself,’ I said.
“‘You’re a good little mouse to say that, but, all the same, I will trot you all over the country on our saddle horses. You will have plenty of fresh air, and that is what Miss Wyland said you needed for your paleness,’ replied Becky.
“Rebecca kissed me good-night, but I felt ill at ease in that Southern home for being one of the ‘detested Yankees.’ Never, by word or sign, was such a thought given out, but I felt that everyone would have been more at ease had I never come.
“Every other afternoon Mr. Crudup went to Nashville with a load of bags for the commissary department. One afternoon, about a week after our arrival, he came back from the city earlier than usual and we noticed a troubled look on his face.
“‘How now, father?’ asked sweet Mrs. Crudup.
“‘Reports in Nashville say that the fighting is turned toward this part of the country,’ he said.
“‘Someone has to bear the burden—perhaps the Lord has selected us to carry a share,’ returned Mrs. Crudup, reverently.
“‘The one thing that worries me is that our place is well known in this part of the country, and our fertile acres are known to produce the finest edibles. Then, too, the fact that we raise some of the best-bred horses in Tennessee may cause the Yanks to come down on us at any time and raid the stables. In that case, they will carry off everything—not even a plow-horse will be left.’
“‘Father, our boys have had all they could use for this conflict, and wouldn’t it be bettah to ship our horses to Nashville fo’ the army to use?’ asked Mrs. Crudup.
“‘I would rather see every head of cattle dead than in the hands of a Yankee!’ cried Sally Crudup, bitterly, for her sweetheart had been killed in a battle a few weeks previous.
“‘Sally, Sally! let no bittehness feed your sorrow!’ reproved the gentle mother, patting me upon the back as if in apology for her daughter’s breach of etiquette.
“Mr. and Mrs. Crudup walked away in private converse, and Becky and I started for the paddocks which I had not yet visited.
“‘Selina, I’m plannin’ a desperate deed!’ said Becky, in a whisper, as we passed down the shady lane that led to the stables and pastures.
“I looked at her in surprise, for her tone was shaky.
“‘I have not introduced you to Imp. Imp is the most valuable horse on the place and would bring a high price in Nashville. My only relief is that no one can ride him, manage, or harness him but Tim and me. When Imp was born Tim was there, and when Imp’s mother died soon after his birth, she turned her eyes on Tim and seemed to ask him to look after her baby. I got there just as she turned back her head and saw me. I took her head upon my lap and promised that I would adopt her boy, and I always felt that she knew what I said and died happier for it. From that minute, I took charge of Imp and fed him on a bottle until he could eat alone. Tim and I have had sole charge of his training, but he is surely an Imp when anyone else tries to come near him.’ Becky almost wept as she told me the story of the poor mother-mare.
“‘Imp understands everything one says to him, but he can’t talk; however, his eyes tell you what he wishes to say! Now, if any stranger should raid the stables and spy Imp, they would certainly try to steal him first, for he is the finest thoroughbred that ever stepped over Tennessee soil! But, he will bite, and kick, and bolt with anyone who dares to trifle with him. Then do you know what will happen? They’ll either put a bullet through his heart, or hitch him to an army ambulance, which will break his heart just the same.’
“Rebecca walked along in silence after that, until we reached a stile that divided the house lands from the pastures.
“‘Selina, there’s only one thing to do—take him away and hide him until this war is over. From what I gather from the servants about the place, this plantation is in a straight line for Nashville, the point the Yankees are making for. So, the sooner Imp is hidden the better!’
“‘Becky,’ asked I, in alarm, ‘will these slaves desert or sell you out to the Yankees?’
“‘Mercy, no, Selina! They are like children to us. It may be that one or two would like the novelty of going North, but they would soon be squelched if it was found out. Why, father and mother treat their old slaves like their family—asking advice of Tim, or Martha the housekeeper, as the case might be. As for our old mammy—and the cook—gracious, Selina! I’d die for either one of them, and so would any one of us, and they know it. They’d stick to us even if we lost this war—which we won’t!’ cried Rebecca.
“I felt somewhat piqued, but said nothing, for I was a guest of Rebecca’s. She sensed that she had said something difficult to forget, and hugged me laughingly.
“‘You wouldn’t give a fig for a friend that could hope anything but success for her country, would you?’ she asked.
“I made no reply, and she continued in a low voice.
“‘Selina, I’m going to take you into a secret that no one but Tim and father knows about. Father hasn’t an idea that I know about it, and Tim won’t tell him that I know. I found it myself years ago, and I always go there when I want to be all alone. I have driven Imp right through and he knows the cave and has no fear of the water, now.’
“I listened in surprise to the words but knew nothing of what she meant.
“After we had walked about a mile down the lane, Becky turned off across the field. We came to a lovely little patch of woods where I could hear the roar of a rushing stream. Rebecca led me by crooked paths until we came to the brink of this torrent where it tumbled over a ledge of rock about twenty feet high, and made a most beautiful waterfall. The current was so swift above the falls that the water shot over making an arch as it fell. The steep banks at either side were mossy and tall ferns almost covered them.
“Rebecca led me straight to the falls. I hesitated as I saw her take a step toward the back-rock under the falls and suddenly disappear in the spray, calling upon me to follow.
“I was sure she knew what she was doing, so I too went headlong into the spray to find myself behind the arched falls on a huge flat rock which lay before a deep crevice opening straight into the cliff. Not a drop of water penetrated here, but the spray made a thick curtain between the cave and the outer world.
“Rebecca led me by the hand along a tunnel, and, after we had gone about twenty feet, it opened into a high-vaulted cavern. Soon Rebecca found the lantern and lighted it. I looked about in surprise; the place was quite comfortably furnished with a chair, a rough table and a mattress with bedding upon it.
“‘I made Tim carry these things over here from the store-room and made him swear never to tell father. Tim is almost seventy years old and he believes in an oath as firmly as he does in Heaven. As far as I know, Tim and Daddy are the only ones beside myself who know of this cave. The reason I am bringing you here—a Yankee, too—is because I feel in my bones that you will have to help me in some danger or need. Here is where Imp is going to be hidden and I shall have to see if I can get him to make friends with you, for you may have to claim him some day and take him North with you.’
“‘Oh, Becky, don’t talk like this! You frighten me! I wish you were all at Happy Hills with me where you would be safe.’
“‘Do you think that one of us would seek another safer home while we are needed here?’ asked Rebecca, sternly.
“I made no reply and Rebecca carried the lantern ahead, bidding me follow her out. We reached the extreme end of the cave, when Rebecca handed me the lantern to hold down close to some lichen. I did so and found that the mass of roots and moss that hung there swayed slowly back and forth in a current of air. This, then, was the cause of the cave being so well ventilated. Becky stooped, pushed aside the mossy curtain and crawled into a small tunnel, taking the lantern from me after she had entered.
“I followed close behind, upon hands and knees, through an opening the size of a bushel basket. Finally, we reached a wider opening where we could stand upon our feet again. We crept through this queer tunnel for a long time and then I felt that we were ascending gradually and that the air was growing purer. In a few moments more, we emerged from another narrow crevice hidden under the gnarled roots of a live-oak. Moss, lichen and fern covered this opening so completely that no one would have dreamed there was an entrance there to a secret cave.
“We were in a grassy dell hemmed in by a thin ribbon of woods which ended in a grove of tall pines upon a knoll.
“Rebecca extinguished the light and led me toward this grove. She selected an old veteran pine and climbed up into its wide branches until a comfortable notch was reached. I did likewise. As we sat there admiring the wonderful view of distant mountains, Rebecca clutched my arm, and pointed with one hand toward the low range of mountains about fifty miles away.
“I looked and saw a heavy cloud of smoke hanging low over the crests. At intervals we heard the echo of a ‘boom.’
“‘Oh, Selina, there’s no time to lose, now! The fighting is so near that we can hear the cannon over the mountain!’
“‘What shall we do?’ I cried helplessly.
“‘Do!’ almost screamed Rebecca, as she tore her clothes on the pine boughs in her rapid descent. ‘Why, I’ll run Imp down to the cave, while you race to the house and tell Timothy the news. Order him to bring oats, bedding, blankets, and whatever Imp might need for a long siege. Tell him you know the secret and will help me take care of Imp. Then, on to the house, warning the negroes as you go, and tell the folks at the house. If they ask how we know, answer that we were on the ridge and saw it. Don’t tell them that we were in the pine tree!’
“Calling these hurried directions as she went, Becky ran back through the glade until we reached the woods near the lane. She pointed toward the house, which could be seen in the distant haze, then ran for the shed where Imp was kept.
“I did as I was ordered, wondering all the way why I was placed in such an undesirable position—a Northerner plotting, as it were, against my own people. I cared little about the war at that time, for I knew nothing of war or its toll.
“However, I reached the outer buildings where the slaves lived and my news acted like an electric current upon the inmates. Immediately they ran in different directions, seemingly bent upon doing a part of a work that had been carefully planned and arranged. I found out later, that such was the case. The older slaves, who were trusted implicitly, set to work burying (as I supposed) whatever fruit, vegetables, smoked meats, and other edibles they could find—in fact, everything stored in cellars or store-rooms.
“I was curious to see how they could prevent the articles from coming in contact with the soil, and found that a chain of bricked cellars had been built a short time before, and the bushes and weeds carefully replaced on the dirt that covered the roofs. A door, opening into the first of the chain of cellars, was made in a steep bank of earth. It was merely a large hole in the ground covered with a flat stone that turned upon a pivot. About this spot the soil and grass had been very cleverly arranged to conceal any sign of what lay beneath.
“By afternoon not a piece of extra linen, bedding, or silver could be found about the house. The jewelry, valuable bits of art and pictures, heirlooms and a valuable library, had disappeared as if by magic. I knew it had all been placed in some safe place and felt relieved at the knowledge.
“I wandered about feeling lonesome for Rebecca and wishing I might assist Tim who seemed busy in some undertaking. I watched him tie down a canvas covering over a loaded cart and caught his glance, which seemed to beckon me. I walked over to the mule’s side and patted its head while Tim spoke.
“‘Miss Becky, she say you’se come wif me. I’se got’ter take dis load down to der paddock!’ Tim looked about as he spoke and winked at me knowingly.
“I walked beside him as he drove the mule along the lane. The cart seemed laden and the mule walked slowly, but we reached the wall that divided the gardens from the farm, and then Tim made the beast go as fast as possible, all the while looking covertly about for a run-away negro or a Yankee scout.
“I suspected where we were going, and, sure enough! As we reached the woods by the lane, Rebecca called softly, ‘No further, Tim!’ and came out with several huge market baskets.
“Tim tied the mule to a tree by the roadside and removed the canvas covering. There was everything one would need for light housekeeping for several weeks. Besides the food and clothing, there were bandages, medicine, bedding, lanterns, an oil-stove, dishes, and numerous other necessities. These were piled in the baskets and carried to the cave where they were placed in crannies for some future emergency.
“‘Imp, I want you to be introduced to my best friend,’ said Rebecca, after we had brought in our first basket.
“I heard a whinny and looked about in the gloom.
“Rebecca went over to a corner near the spot whence fresh air entered the cavern, and held the lantern up for me to see her pet.
“I stood making friendly advances to the beauty and, to Becky’s amazement, he never moved an inch, but wrinkled his nose for sugar.
“‘Witch! that is what you are!’ laughed Becky, as Imp poked his nose under my arm. ‘I have never known him to do such a thing.’
“Imp stood listening to his mistress as if he thoroughly understood the situation.
“I turned to tell Rebecca what a beauty he was, and he deliberately poked his nose out against my face.
“After all the supplies were stacked away, Rebecca slipped the halter over Imp’s head and led him to a ring cemented in the solid rock.
“‘Now, Imp, you will have to be good and not whinny or make a sound. I know what is good for you, and you must do just as I tell you, or a bad Yankee soldier will catch you and then you will see!’ warned Rebecca, shaking her finger at him.
“The horse stood looking at her as if striving to understand what that strange word ‘Yankee’ meant; then he threw up his head and shook it defiantly.
“We said good-by to Imp and returned to the cart where Tim waited. We sent Tim to the barns with the mule and we went back to the house.
“That was such a busy day that everyone felt weary and glad when the sun showed its slanting rays over the trees. It must have been about four o’clock when sounds of approaching cavalry reached the house. It was the company Newell and his brother had formed a few months before. They had been driven over the mountainside and decided to spend the night in hiding at home.
“The sewing room was filled with neighbors whose boys were members of the company, so you can imagine the joy of seeing them again.
“The boys were covered with mire halfway to the waist, and their horses looked as if they must drop where they stood. Many of the soldiers were hatless, powder smirched, and, oh, so tired!
“Rebecca took me to her room and locked the door.
“‘Selina, did you see that tall dark officer—the one that kept smiling at us? Well, he is my best friend, and I want you to fall in love with him. He knows all about you and I showed him your picture a long time ago, so he knows you quite well, you see.’
“I laughed merrily at Becky’s match-making.
“‘Oh,’ she sighed, as her thought rushed to something else. ‘Wasn’t it just like Providence that we got Imp and all of those supplies hidden away in time?’
“‘Yes, but it is not necessary with the rebels in command of the place,’ I said, using the term ‘rebel’ quite unconsciously, for the first time.
“Rebecca noticed it, too, but said nothing at the time.
“‘Well, I showed you just how to get in and out of that cave in case you are the only one who can take care of Imp. One never knows what may happen, but you, being my guest, are safe with our friends, and, being a Yankee, will be taken care of in case the enemy take the place. But, remember, if Imp is to be taken from me, I would rather you had him than anyone on earth—and you must assert your ownership if necessary to take him home with you.’
“That was a great reunion, that dinner! Besides all of the young soldiers, their families were there, listening to their account of the struggle.
“The happy families had finished dinner and were about to have coffee when a colored boy raced up the steps of the piazza. His face was gray with fear as he gasped, ‘De Yanks am comin’—oh, dey am comin’ pell mell foh dis house! oh, Lud, Lud!’
“‘Tell all the folks, Jeremiah, quick!’ shouted Becky, as she sprang forward to warn her friends.
“‘The horses—quick, Tim! The horses—rush them to the house!’ yelled Newell, as he grabbed his gun and threw on his cap.
“‘Mother, good-by,’ cried Ed, as he caught a kiss from her lips, and Newell hurriedly did the same.
“The next minute all was confusion as the soldier boys jumped into the saddle, while still buckling on knapsacks and ammunition belts.
“Five minutes after Jeremiah had given the alarm, the boys were lost in a cloud of dust galloping on the way to Nashville. But not soon enough!”
Here, Aunt Selina leaned back in her chair and looked away over the lawns as if she saw again the scurrying horses racing for dear life in one direction, while from the opposite direction she saw another picture she had not yet mentioned.
“If you are wearied, Aunt Selina, we will postpone the story for another day,” suggested Mrs. Talmage.
“Oh, no! please don’t!” begged the excited children.
“Oh, Flutey, I simply couldn’t wait until to-morrow to find out what happened,” cried Ruth, beseechingly.
Aunt Selina smiled at the children, and Uncle Ben added: “They are right! I don’t want to wait either!”
“Really! is it as good as that?”
“Good! I should say it is! It’s a big ‘seller’ if it was only in a book!” returned Uncle Ben.
“Well, then, after the magazine is done with it suppose we sell it to a publisher for the benefit of the children,” ventured Aunt Selina, eagerly.
“Fine idea! We will try it!” said Uncle Ben.
Aunt Selina moved her chair to keep the rays of the setting sun from her eyes, and then continued with her story.