I heard a while ago, the doctor of the Ram, who brought back
the buggy, say the Arkansas's crew were about leaving; so remembering poor Mr.
Read had lost everything, mother, suggesting he might need money, gave me
twenty dollars to put in his hands, as some slight help towards reaching his
destination. Besides, coming from Jimmy's mother, he could not have been hurt.
But when I got down, he was far up the lane, walking too fast for me to overtake
him; then I tried to catch Mr. Stephenson, to give it to him for me, but
failed. Presently, we saw I am afraid to say how many wagons loaded with them,
coming from the sugar-house; so Phillie, Lilly, and I snatched up some five
bottles of gin, between us, and ran out to give it to them. A rough old sailor
received mine with a flood of thanks, and the others gave theirs to those behind.
An officer rode up saying, “Ladies, there is no help for it! The Yankee cavalry
are after us, and we must fight them in the corn. Take care of yourselves!” We
shouted “Yes!” told them to bring in the wounded and we would nurse them. Then
the men cried, “God bless you,” and we cried, “Hurrah for the Arkansas's crew,”
and “Fight for us!” Altogether it was a most affecting scene. Phillie, seeing
how poorly armed they were, suggested a gun, which I flew after and delivered
to a rough old tar. When I got out, the cart then passing held Mr. Talbot, who
smiled benignly and waved his hat like the rest. He looked still better in his black
coat, but the carts reminded me of what the guillotine days must have been in
France. He shouted “Good-bye,” we shouted “Come to us, if you are wounded”; he smiled
and bowed, and I cried, “Use that sword!” — whereupon he sprang to his
feet and grasped the hilt as though about to commence. Then came other
officers; Mr. Scales, Mr. Barblaud, etc., who smiled recognition, stopped the
wagon as Phillie handed up a plate of bread and meat, and talked gayly as they
divided it, until the Captain rode up. “On, gentlemen! not a moment to lose!”
Then the cart started off, the empty plate was flung overboard, and they rode
off waving hats and crying, “God bless you, ladies!” in answer to our repeated
offers of taking care of them if they were hurt. And they have gone to meet the
Yankees, and I hope they won't, for they have worked enough to-day, and
from my heart I pray God prosper those brave men!
SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's
Diary, p. 155-7
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