A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland Part 35

In a decided tone the general said, "I shall say no such thing. They make the best of soldiers; for, first, they are kind and docile; and, second, they are apt to learn. They learn military tactics very readily, and ought to have the same wages as any other soldier. All along this river I find one continued series of wrongs inflicted upon the negro."

We told him of the infamous order by Dr. Kelley, sanctioned by General Tuttle, and published under the specious guise of "Health Order," to drive the slaves back to their masters. He shook his head in disgust.

"Why does the head of this serpent rise up at almost every point? When it appeared in the department under my command I crushed it at once."

At the mouth of Red River three women came aboard, by permission of the gunboat officers stationed there. Their object was to hire men, whom they wanted to gather cane for working up into weaving reeds. One of them reported to Dr. Long that she had been watching a couple of ladies on our boat, and she believed them spies, for they seemed to have a great deal of writing to do. Dr. Long happened to know enough about the ladies reported as spies to allow sister Backus and myself to pa.s.s unmolested. But these ladies were themselves suspected of being spies.

We reached the city of Memphis May 10th. Sister Backus had been quite sick for three days, but was now a little better. We called at the Christian Commission Rooms, and got a market-basket full of reading matter for distribution.

The next day was quite cold and freezing. We stopped at Columbus a short time. Here we secured a paper giving an account of the terrible slaughter at Fredericksburg. Rumor had it that fifteen thousand were killed and wounded; that Lee was driven back thirty miles; Grant and Butler were said to be pushing on to Richmond, and were now within a short day's march of the rebel capital. General Hunter was quite sanguine in hope that Richmond would soon fall.

On May 13th we arrived at Cairo, and took leave of the friends whom our few days' acquaintance had made dear. We reached home on the 18th, amid the rejoicing of dear children and friends. It is no wonder the soldiers we met were delighted to see a Northern face, for it reminded them of their home a.s.sociations. Intercession unceasing went up for the three thousand soldier prisoners banished to the Gulf Islands. The mail had brought nothing from New Orleans. By this I was to understand that nothing could be done for them there. Congress was still in session, and I immediately wrote a full account of their wrongs to congressman Beaman, and urged the presentation of the case to the war department.

Without giving myself time to rest, I hastened to Detroit, to report our work and give an account of the unjust sentences of those prisoners at Ship Island and the Tortugas. While making my statements in Captain E. B. Ward's office, he took them down to forward them to B. F. Wade, chairman of the Committee on the Conduct of the War; but he said, "You must go to Washington and report these facts to the committee in person." I told him I had written the full details to my friend, F. C.

Beaman, member of Congress, and I thought he would do all that could be done. He answered, "I shall send these items to B. F. Wade, and our letters will make good entering wedges; but the living tongue will do more than the pen." I told him I was ready to go or do any thing I could for their release, but still hoped to hear from New Orleans. I would wait a week longer and rest. Then, if I had means, I would go. He said he would see to that, and I returned to my home.

Within a week I received a note from him, stating that he had just received a letter from B. F. Wade, requesting me to come at once and bring my extracts from the record I had examined on Ship Island. I was soon on my way to Detroit, and at nine o'clock, A. M., on the following day, I was in Captain Ward's office, ready to take the boat for Cleveland on my way to Washington. I waited but a few minutes when the captain came in with a letter, which he threw in my lap, saying, "There is a letter for you to read." The first sentence was, "The exhibition of these letters before Secretary Stanton has proved sufficient. Judge Attocha was dismissed immediately, and a committee is to be appointed to investigate and release those prisoners at once. There is therefore no necessity for Mrs. Haviland's presence on that score. General Tuttle is already relieved." On reading these glad words, I remarked that I never had been a shouting Methodist, but I felt more like shouting over these glad tidings than I ever had done in all my life. If I had not been spoiled for singing by being raised a Quaker, I would have sung the doxology.

I wrote an article for the Detroit _Tribune_ containing these facts, and stating the prospects of the immediate release of the three thousand prisoners on Ship Island and Dry Tortugas. I sent the paper to Captain J. Noyce, and very soon received a reply that my letter, with the _Tribune_, was the first intimation they had received of any thing being done in their behalf. He said, "I sent the letter and paper to the prisoners, and they eagerly read them in all their companies, until I doubt whether a whole sentence can be found together." A few weeks later I received another letter from Captain Noyce, in which he stated that the committee was investigating, and that but one person in seventy-five was found unworthy of being released at once; but that very soon all would be restored to their regiments.

CHAPTER XIII.

FREEDMEN'S AID COMMISSION.

Our Freedmen's Aid Commission was enlarged in June, 1864. Dr. George Duffield was made president; Drs. Hogarth and Chase, vice-presidents; David Preston, treasurer; and B. C. Durfee, secretary. The board of directors appointed me its agent, and allowed me a salary of forty dollars a month. This is the first remuneration I received for my labors; but seeing unfaithful officers dismissed, prisoners released, and the suffering and dying relieved, was a satisfaction far exceeding dollars and cents.

I received invitations to address congregations in large towns, where much was done in gathering supplies. At a Union thanksgiving meeting in Jackson, $97 was collected, and at a similar meeting at Gra.s.s Lake, the same day, $70; at Luce's Hall, Grand Rapids, $55; at Methodist Episcopal Church, Pontiac, $44; and at Leoni Wesleyan Methodist Conference, $68.65. Many other liberal donations were also received.

Auxiliaries were organized, and I prepared to return to the field of desolation, whither duty seemed to be loudly calling me. I concluded to suspend Raisin Inst.i.tute until the close of the war. I received propositions from a number of graduates of the Michigan University to take it in charge; but the care of preparing for another academic year was more than I could properly undertake, and do justice to the limitless field of mission work that was open before us.

In September I had a car-load of supplies ready, and $400 in money. Of this amount, $298 was placed in my hands by friends at Adrian, with the request of the donors that it should be retained in my own hands for disburs.e.m.e.nt on reaching the scene of suffering. At Chicago appeals were made to the Soldiers' Aid Society and Christian Commission for aid in the freedmen's department, and also to myself personally, on account of the great distress in Kansas after General Price's raid through Missouri, followed by Colonels Lane and Jennison, who drove thousands of poor whites and freedmen into that young State. I decided to hasten thither, with Mrs. Lee, of Hillsdale, as an a.s.sistant.

At Leavenworth we met J. R. Brown, half-brother of Captain John Brown, of Ossawatomie, who had charge of both white refugees and freedmen and a sort of soldiers' home, under General Curtis. He kindly offered me headquarters in his establishment, consisting of two large two-story frame buildings, with one hundred occupants each. I called on General Curtis, who telegraphed for my goods to be forwarded in preference to other army supplies, and gave me pa.s.ses through the State to Fort Scott. My object was to investigate all intermediate towns where refugees and freedmen were congregated. He also gave me liberty to use an order he had given J. R. Brown, to call upon quarter-masters for half, whole, or quarter rations, wherever suffering for food existed.

These investigations enabled me to judge of the amount of aid needed at each point.

As my supplies had not reached me, J. R. Brown filled two large trunks with sanitary supplies for the greatest sufferers. Thus supplied, I took the stage for Fort Scott. My first halt was at Quindaro, a small town built on rocky bluffs and in deep ravines. A few years previously it was designed by a few speculators to be an important landing on the Mississippi; and they built a few stone houses, a long wood store-house, and a number of small log-houses, which had been left untenanted, but were now filled with white refugees and freedmen, A large majority were women and children. The able-bodied men among the freedmen were in the Union army, but many of the men whose refugee families were here were in the Confederate army. General Price had made terrible havoc of all who were suspected of being favorable to the Union. Then followed Colonels Lane and Jennison, who made as great havoc of the remainder. Those who fled for their lives were crowded into every niche of available room.

In one open log-house I found twenty-three wretched inmates. Four of them were women, two of whom were sick from exposure in husking corn during cold, snowy weather. Eight of the children had the measles, and three of them died; two others seemed near death's door. Two women were hauling a small tree-top to their door to chop for night-wood. The feet of these poor women were exposed to the mud and snow, which was melting. O, what squalid wretchedness was here! Not a bed, chair, table, or whole dish in this gloomy abode! I inquired how they slept. I was shown a rag-carpet on the fence, which they obtained for washing for one of the neighbors. This was spread before a large fire-place, and all lay down upon that but two, who kept up the fire, and watched to keep those asleep from burning. They said the man who owned the adjoining wood-land kindly allowed them all the wood they needed that was on the ground. They borrowed an ax to chop it. I found the four women had husked corn on shares until two were sick with pneumonia; and the corn, boiled without salt, was all they had to eat during the five weeks they had been there. Now they were nearly out, and what to do they knew not, as they were forbidden to go into the field to husk more. I made out an order for rations, and measured their bare feet for shoes and stockings. I took one of the women to the post-office, where I had left my trunks, and gave her four army-blankets, six knit woolen socks, six pairs of drawers, four pairs of stockings, and two pairs of shoes, which were all I had to fit them. As I piled the above articles upon the shoulders and arms of the poor woman she wept for joy.

The postmaster said, "Is this your business here?"

On receiving an affirmative reply, he said, with tearful eye:

"To-morrow morning the ground will be frozen, and I will go with you where the most of these poor people are."

I procured lodging with a widow Johnson and her son, who was with Captain John Brown's party all through the border-ruffian troubles. My kind friend regretted my having made the mile and a half walk to the log-house in the field and back to the post-office before supper, as I had not taken refreshments since leaving Leavenworth, very early. But when I told her of the distress I found, she rejoiced with me at the partial relief I had given them.

After a good rest and an early breakfast, I went with the kind postmaster to visit the most wretched tenements of both white and colored, and found eighty-one to report for rations to the commander in Wyandotte. The postmaster and Mr. Johnson agreed to go with their team every week and distribute to the dest.i.tute; and if others were found equally needy they would report them to me on my return. After descending steep cliffs and climbing rugged rocks until past noon, we returned for dinner; but before it was finished the stage came along, and I took it for Wyandotte, where we arrived late in the evening. The weather for October was cold, and freezing quite hard.

When I informed Mrs. Halford, the landlady of the Garno House, of my errand, she was much pleased, and said that her duties forbade her to a.s.sist me, but she would do her part in giving me a welcome home while in their town. She introduced me to a family of benevolent ladies, who promised to aid me in my investigations, but did not think I would find the suffering in their city that I found in Quindaro. One of my new friends went with me to a neighborhood where there were new arrivals, and found many in a perishing condition with cold and hunger. From thence we went to old stables and sheds crowded with dest.i.tute human beings, both white and colored. The dear friend who volunteered to guide to these children of want wept herself sick as we listened to the stories of their flight from homes in Missouri and Arkansas. Here was a woman, named Melinda Dale, with six small children and a sick husband, who had to flee for their lives. A few pieces of old tent-cloth, picked up about an old camp, made their bed. Children were crying for bread, the mother was sick with grief, and the father had a high fever. A blanket was given them, with a few loaves of bread; and after the reading of Scripture and prayer we left for the relief of others.

Our next call was upon the wife and five small children of Lieutenant Miller, who was supposed to be in a rebel prison. The wife was in great distress, not knowing whether her husband was living or perishing by starvation. He was taken prisoner one year before and she and her children were in a starving condition. They occupied an old Sibley tent. These were also, with many others, reported for rations, and immediate relief was given. A few weeks previously rations were withheld, which caused great suffering with many. I gave rations to Barbara Stewart, with two sick children, whose husband was murdered by guerillas because he was known to be a Union man. I next called on Green F. Bethel, who left his Arkansas home with a large family, consisting of his wife, nine children, and aged mother. All except himself were taken down with the measles, soon after pa.s.sing through Fort Scott. His mother soon died, and was buried by the way-side. A day later his wife and infant child died, and were also buried by the way.

Not long after the last three children died, and were also buried by the road-side. He said, "O, what sorrow was mine! One-half of my family are gone! The light of my household seemed vanishing! Were it not for the help of my Lord I should have fainted under this sweeping affliction. My wife and mother were Christians many years. We were members of the c.u.mberland Presbyterian Church." We found the poor man in a hard chill. It came on every third day, and was followed with high fever. The two intervening days he was able to use his team in little jobs of hauling, and thus he kept his children and team alive. I inquired why he did not make his condition known to the citizens of that town. He said no one knew any thing about him, and there were so many making pretensions to loyalty who were not loyal, that none would know but he was of that cla.s.s. "My wife's brother," he said, "came with his family when we did, and he also lost his wife on the way, following the Union soldiers. Our lives were threatened, and the rope was placed around my neck once, but by the entreaties of my wife and children the rebels concluded to let me go a day or two longer; then if I would not join with them in supporting the Confederate government, I was to be hung or shot. The same threat was made to my brother-in-law, and we hid in the woods three weeks, before we left in the night for the lines of the Union soldiers. We started with two wagons, and had nine horses and three cows. But they gave out one after another, and we had to leave them all on the way, except the youngest and best team, which I have yet. I have a good farm, and so has my brother-in-law; but if we are ever permitted to return to our homes, it is doubtful whether we shall find a building left."

He wept freely, as well as his children. The oldest daughter, Amy, of seventeen, leaned her head upon my shoulder, and wept aloud. She said, "We could all bear this furnace of affliction much better if our dear mother had been spared us."

With prayer we left this house of mourning, with a request for the afflicted brother to call at head-quarters for the rations I should report for the six in his family. Said he, on taking the parting hand, "One favor I ask of you, my dear sister; and that is, your continued prayers that the Lord may open a way for us where there now seems to be no way."

My friend who served as guide said, "My head aches with weeping, in witnessing these heart-rending scenes. I must decline going with you farther this afternoon. I shall be obliged to take my bed. I do not see how you live, as you meet similar scenes so frequently."

These visits made us quite late for dinner, but my kind hostess kept it waiting for me. With interest, she sat by my side to listen to a report of my morning calls. She was surprised to learn of so much suffering near them. After dinner I resumed my work. On my way I met a woman shivering in an ague chill, thinly clad, and weeping. I inquired for the cause of her grief. She said she had been hunting for washing or something to do, to purchase bread for her three little children, for they had had nothing to eat for a whole day. I told her I would call on her before night. I found a number in as great distress as in my morning calls. One man, who lost his wife, leaving him with six small children, had found work six miles away; but he returned at night to care for his little ones. The oldest child, ten years of age, was left during the day in charge of the five younger ones. For the sake of furnishing bread for his children, he walked the twelve miles back and forth daily. I found the woman whom I had met on the street in a high fever, with an infant of eight months in her arms, and two of her children crying for bread. I took them a few loaves, and gave her an order for rations. The husband had been pressed into service when they had been but two weeks from home, and was not allowed to see his wife and children to say good bye. She had heard nothing from him since. In the corner lay a crippled discharged colored soldier, who was also suffering for food. I stepped into a grocery and purchased sugar and crackers for the sick and for the children.

My next call was on another woman with six children.

Her husband had been in the army a long time, and she had not heard from him. She feared he was suffering in a rebel prison. Near this cabin was Agnes Everett, with five children between the ages of fifteen months and twelve years. Her two youngest children were in a starving condition--the baby, she said, had been too sick to allow her to do much in procuring food. Her boy of twelve years was her only dependence in getting little jobs of wood-sawing or doing ch.o.r.es for cold victuals, or a pint of meal which she made into porridge. The little emaciated baby was fed with the porridge. Its face was wrinkled like an old person's of ninety years. Its eyes were sunken and gla.s.sy; its hands looked more like birds' claws than like human hands. "Don't, Clarkie; poor little Fannie is so sick she must have this," said the mother to the little fellow who watched the mother when her attention was occupied for a chance to s.n.a.t.c.h a floating lump. As I looked upon these famishing children I could not refrain from weeping. Her husband and grown son were in the army. She had been looking for money from them for a number of months, but had heard nothing from them. I gave them two loaves of bread for their supper, and directed them to meet me at the post-office the next day at ten o'clock A. M., and I would give her an order for six half rations until she received help from her husband. This closed my day's work. On my return to the Garno House, Mrs. Halford informed me that the lady who went with me in the morning was sick, for she had hardly ceased weeping over those pitiful families we visited in the morning.

At the time appointed I met a number at the post-office, among whom was Agnes Everett, to receive orders for half, quarter, or whole rations, and gave out a few articles of clothing. As I gave Agnes the order for rations, I charged her strictly to give the two younger children no strong food for a few days, but only a little at a time and often, especially the youngest, as it would live but a few hours if she allowed it to eat all it craved. A number of gentlemen listened to my charge, and as the little group left the office one of them inquired where I was from. With my reply I gave them my papers from the governor and members of Congress of Michigan. After reading they introduced themselves,--Dr. Wood, Dr. Speck, Lawyer James, and others. Dr. Speck informed me of a family whose youngest child actually starved to death three days before. He was called when it was dying, but too late to save it. He said, "There were two other families who would have died soon if the citizens had not rendered the aid needed; and there would have been another death by starvation before we should have known it, here in our midst, but it took you to come from Michigan to find it out." Lawyer James said there was a family on the hill opposite the ferry he would like to see visited, but there were so many crowding in here of late that it seemed as if they had done all they possibly could. They were rejoiced to learn of the liberty granted, by General Curtis to issue orders for rations. Said Dr. Wood, "The freedmen are seeking for work, no matter what kind, but the white refugees are the most do-nothing set I ever saw." While I acknowledged his position true in most cases, yet there were n.o.ble exceptions and I mentioned the Bethel family and stated their condition. One gentleman said he would look after that family. In confirmation of his remarks I told of a family of poor whites in Quindaro who were asked to a.s.sist a neighbor in sickness. As there were the mother and two grown daughters, it was supposed one of them could be secured a few days with the promise of provisions or money; but the mother contemptuously tossed her head to one side and drawled out the reply, "I reckon we hain't come down so low yet as to work" I told them they must come up high enough to work before I could do any thing for them, and left them to sit in their own filth and rags.

My order from General Curtis was to report none for rations who could obtain work for wages. I pa.s.sed on to other scenes of sorrow too numerous to narrate here.

One hundred and four rations I ordered in Wyandotte. This timely relief given, I crossed the river, and in Kansas City, Missouri, met brother Copeland and wife, who were efficient agents and teachers in that field. I secured a pa.s.s to Lawrence, where, late in the evening, I was directed to a family that had suffered much in the Union cause. This was the important stamping ground of Captain John Brown. This city had pa.s.sed through two terrible raids during the war. It is here that Quantrell rushed upon the unsuspecting citizens with a host of Confederate soldiers about daylight, and murdered men at their own doors, and when they could not call them out they rushed into their houses and made terrible havoc of human life. There was a woman here who was a spy. She had been in the city a few weeks taking horse-back rides two hours each morning, ostensibly for her health, but probably to report the most favorable time for attack. She was never seen after the raid. I attended the Methodist Episcopal Church, where seventy wounded, dying, and dead soldiers and citizens were brought in after that raid. The stains of blood were still left on the floor and some of the seats.

The house where I was kindly invited to make my home was entered, and the owner, brother Hockins, was demanded. His wife told them she saw him run up the hill a few moments before, which was true; but on seeing the Confederate soldiers entering the town he hastened back to his house and ran down to the cellar. A squad of them entered and placed the bayonet at his wife, and threatened her life if she did not tell the whereabouts of her husband; but she persisted in pointing up the hill. They went down the cellar, but returned without finding him, and set the house on fire. Then they ran up the hill after him. She succeeded in putting out the fire, and went into the cellar and called her husband. He answered from between the earth and the floor. This was his hiding-place until the Union soldiers rescued the city from further trouble. A strong Union force was now kept at this point.

I found fewer suffering for want of rations at this town than in other places I had visited, and took the stage for Fort Scott. We were advised to keep out of sight any appearance of watches or any sort of jewelry, as guerrillas were sometimes lurking in the woods and attacked the stages. We came in sight of Indians on horses who darted into the woods, fearing we were guerrillas, who had stolen or robbed them of their ponies. One man shouted, "We are all for the Union." This was on Price's track, where they lost their horses, and did not dare come in sight.

Late at night we reached Fort Scott. My first call was on Colonel Blair, commander of the post, who, with his wife, kindly offered me a home with them while I remained at that point. They introduced me to Dr. Sloc.u.m, who gave a sketch of the terrible dest.i.tution of the forty thousand refugees and freedmen, who pa.s.sed through this great thoroughfare. Many of them had stopped here. He took me to a number of the dest.i.tute families, and gave directions to others, and left me to my work. Here was a great number of the poor whites, called "Clay-eaters," who complained about government dealing rations to colored people. I heard one of them, say that "if n.i.g.g.e.rs would stay where they belonged, with their masters, they would have more white-bread and beef." I told them, I had learned that many of their husbands were fighting against the government while the husbands of many of the colored women were fighting to sustain it, and I should favor those who were on the side of the government. I asked them why they did not themselves remain in their old homes? "We came 'case our men was conscripted," they said. One woman and her daughter of eighteen had each a filthy, ragged bed quilt over her shoulders, and their faces were so swarthy that their eyes and teeth presented as great a contrast as those whose natural skin was of darker hue. As the little boy of four years had no shoes, and I had a pair left that would fit him, I told the mother to wash his feet and try them. "Sal, bring me that cup thar," said the woman. Their drinking cup with water was brought. "Han'

me that rag thar," and she wet her hand and wet the feet, and was wiping off the mud, when I told her they were not washed; to look at the mud on the bottom of his feet and between his toes. "O, yez'm," she drawled out, and wet one end of the rag in the cup, and made a second effort. When the shoes were put on, he could not walk without holding to his mother or sister. They were probably the first he had ever had.

Most of the day was spent in visiting this cla.s.s of persons--the most ignorant, listless, and degraded of any people I had ever met. On giving a description of the ignorance and filth, of the poor whites I called on, Colonel Blair inquired "What would you do with them?"

"I would keep body and soul together till Spring opens," I answered, "and then load up your great army wagons, and take them out upon the rich prairies and dump them out, giving them the homely adage, 'Root, pig, or die.'"

The greatest difficulty in managing this cla.s.s was to get them to do any thing. Not so with colored people; they would do any thing they could find to do.

I found in this camp of two thousand, a colored woman of an earnest Christian principle. Colonel Blair gave her an excellent character. He said that I might place implicit confidence in any statement she would make. Her history was a novel one. She ran away from a cruel master to the Indians, and married an old Indian, and had four children. She said her husband came in great excitement and asked her if she wanted to run away to the Yankees? She said no, because she thought they were another tribe of Indians. He ran out, and soon came back, and said, "If you run, go quick. I am old; they can't rob me of many days, but they sha'n't have the children to punish." He threw them on a horse and ran off into the woods. She supposed her old master had found her out, and ran another way. Then she heard that her husband was dead, But the Lord hid her from the cruel master, though he broke up her family.

After spending three days in this place, including Sunday, I took the Monday morning stage for Leavenworth. In sending packages to all these places, to reliable friends with whom I had made acquaintance, I requested that no clothing be given to healthy men and women who refused to do work when they could get it.

In one of the hospitals at Leavenworth were two Confederates, one of whom had recently become a Christian. He said when he went into this army he knew not for what they were fighting, but when he learned the real cause, he was for the Union, and should do all he could for it.

During the month of December, we relieved four hundred and forty-four families. There were thirty children in both buildings under my care.

By request of J. R. Brown, the Freedmen's Aid Commission of Michigan consented to allow me to take charge of white refugees in connection with the freedmen. General Curtis detailed a sergeant for my a.s.sistant.

Another important helper was a n.o.ble young woman, Amanda A. Way, who opened a school for children of inmates of the two buildings. I found it difficult to bring into school the white children, and only by a requisition could I accomplish it, or induce the mothers to wash the hands and faces, and comb the hair of their children, to fit them for school.