There appeared, shortly after, as though there was some motive attached to the visit at the major’s quarters. The fires of resentment were still smouldering in their hearts; the Washington tragedy was not sufficient to extinguish it. For it is well known in Charleston that but a few evenings after the occurrence at the major’s quarters, Colonel Gurney’s became the object of a more bold and impudent intrusion.
It was related by an interested party, as well as published in one of the journals of the city, on the next day, that while Colonel Gurney was seated in conversation with his lady, about eleven P.M., a party of five men, dressed in the naval uniform of United States officers, entered the apartment. The spokesman of the party entered abruptly, and, on inquiring for the colonel, was answered by him, who in turn demanded of the intruders their errand.
“We have come with a message for you to report to the admiral, in person, at Hilton Head,” said one.
“Report to the admiral, in person, at Hilton Head!” exclaimed the astonished colonel. “What means all this? Why these officers? I am then to consider myself under arrest, I suppose.”
“You are, sir,” was the reply.
“You will allow me time to prepare a valise,” said the colonel. His lady here interposed, expressing a desire to accompany him; he refused; she persisted, and with true womanly instinct called an orderly to go for Judge Cooley. The leader of the party then stated that they had similar orders to attend, but would return for him to go with the others, and immediately left, thus finding themselves outflanked by a woman, they were never seen or heard from again.
At the publication of this, the major’s being at the same time everywhere the subject of grave comment, an intense excitement was created through the colored community especially. This was as the breeze upon the surface of our sea, so recently disturbed and still unsettled; the swells could be observed with threatening approaches to the shore.
Fortunately these were stayed. So pressing were the inquirers, in crowds, as it were, at the quarters of the major, seeking advice for action, that positive orders were given by him decidedly against any overt act by the freedmen.
If these suspicious visits were carried further, the military headquarters in the city were peculiarly situated to meet such emergencies. While they were separately commanded and under different influences, they were at the same time equidistant from each other and admirably adapted to meet any emergency.
For instance, the city was divided into two military districts, running north and south, with Calhoun Street centrally, at right angles; Colonel Gurney, commanding the 127th New York Volunteers, at corner of Meeting and George Streets, west side; Colonel Beecher, commanding the 35th United States Colored Troops, corner of Charlotte and Meeting Streets, east side; Major Delany, commanding new recruits, at corner of St. Philip and Calhoun Streets; Colonel Hutchins, being on Calhoun, nearly midway between St. Philip and Meeting Streets, and Brevet Major General John P. Hatch, commanding the district, with quarters at the end of King Street.