CLINTON. - Our last adieux are said, and Linwood is left
behind, “it may be for years, and it may be forever.” My last hours were spent
lying on the sofa on the gallery, with Lydia at my feet, Helen Carter sitting
on the floor at my side, while all the rest were gathered around me as I played
for the last time “the centre of attraction.” I grew almost lachrymose
as I bid a last adieu to the bed where I have spent so many months, as they
carried me downstairs. Wonder if it will not miss me? It must have been at
least five before the cars returned. Mrs. Carter grew quite pathetic as they
approached, while poor little Lydia, with streaming eyes and choking sobs,
clung first to Miriam and then to me, as though we parted to meet only in
eternity. All except her mother started in a run for the big gate, while I was
carried to the buggy through the group of servants gathered to say good-bye,
when the General drove me off rapidly.
What a delightful sensation is motion, after five months’
inaction! The last time I was in a vehicle was the night General Beale's
ambulance brought me to Linwood a helpless bundle, last November. It seemed to
me yesterday that I could again feel the kind gentleman's arm supporting me,
and his wondering, sympathetic tone as he repeated every half-mile, “Really,
Miss Morgan, you are very patient and uncomplaining!” Good, kind
President Miller! As though all the trouble was not his, just then! But
stopping at the gate roused me from my short reverie, and I opened my eyes to
find myself stationary, and in full view of a train of cars loaded with
soldiers, literally covered with them; for they covered the roof, as well as
filled the interior, while half a dozen open cars held them, seated one above
the other in miniature pyramids, and even the engine was graced by their
presence. Abashed with finding myself confronted with so many people, my
sensation became decidedly alarming as a dozen rude voices cried, “Go on! we
won't stop!” and a chorus of the opposition cried, “Yes, we will!” “No!” “Yes!”
they cried in turn, and as the General stood me on the ground (I would have
walked if it had been my last attempt in life), I paused irresolute, not knowing
whether to advance or retreat before the storm. I must say they are the only
rude soldiers I have yet seen in Confederate uniforms. But as I walked slowly,
clinging to the General's arm, half from fear, and half from weakness, they
ceased the unnecessary dispute, and remained so quiet that I was more
frightened still, and actually forgot to say goodbye to Mrs. Carter and Mrs.
Worley as they stood by the road. How both the General and I escaped being hurt
as he raised me on the platform, every one is at a loss to account for. I
experienced only what may be called slight pain, in comparison to what I have
felt; but really fear that the exertion has disabled him for to-day. It
must have been very severe. Some officers led me to my seat, Lilly, Miriam, and
Anna got in, the General kissed us heartily, with damp eyes and kind wishes;
the cars gave a whistle, and I put my head out of the window to see Mrs. Carter
industriously applying white cambric to her face, which occupation she
relinquished to call out last good-byes; another whistle and a jerk, and we
were off, leaving her and Mrs. Worley, surrounded by children and servants,
using their handkerchiefs to wipe tears and wave farewell, while the General
waved his hat for good-bye. Then green hedges rapidly changing took their
place, and Linwood was out of sight before we had ceased saying and thinking,
God bless the kind hearts we had left behind. Can I ever forget the kindness we
have met among them?
To see green trees and wild flowers once more, after such an
illness, is a pleasure that only those long deprived of such beauties by a
similar misfortune can fully appreciate.
It was a relief to discover that what I had thought shocking
rudeness in the soldiers had not been reserved for me alone. For every time we
stopped, the same cry of “No waiting for slow people” was raised, varied by
constant expostulations with the engine for drinking ponds dry, and mild
suggestions as to taking the road the other side of the fence, which would no
doubt prove smoother than the track. These Arkansas troops have acquired a
reputation for roughness and ignorance which they seem to cultivate as
assiduously as most people would their virtues. But rudeness does not affect
their fighting qualities.
SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's
Diary, p. 347-50
