24 chapters
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24 chapters
PREFACE OR APOLOGY
PREFACE OR APOLOGY
When one writes a book, a preface is in order. Mine shall be by way of explanation. The only apology I have to offer for writing this little personal pronoun “I” story is the very simple one that it is true. It has been said that “we never talk so well as when talking of ourselves.” Be that as it may, in telling my own story, I can tell it only in the first person. It is a story that is very dear to me, probably much more so than it will ever be to any one else. In writing it I have lived it all
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INTRODUCTORY
INTRODUCTORY
1862-1899. The line between the dates represents a bridge as it were of thirty-seven planks, and each plank a year. It takes but a single stroke of the pen to make the little bridge of ink representing the years; but can I measure the smiles and tears, the joys and sorrows, that are crowded into each year? Can I retrace my steps, passing on the way the graves that have opened and closed on some of earth’s best and dearest treasures, and gather from the past a few memories that the corroding care
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THE JOURNEY
THE JOURNEY
IN September, 1862, my father, Dr. Coridon Morrow, offered his services to his country, and was appointed Assistant Surgeon of the 43d O. V. I. His first work was at the battle of Corinth, Miss., which occurred on the 4th and 5th of October. Soon after the battle, owing to bad water and change of climate, he was taken dangerously ill, and wrote my mother an almost illegible scrawl, begging her to come to him at once. We had broken up housekeeping at our home in the village of Bainbridge, Ohio, a
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CORONA COLLEGE HOSPITAL
CORONA COLLEGE HOSPITAL
IT stood in the midst of the historic battle-field and surrounding encampment. Prior to the war, it was known as The Corona Female College. It was a large, three-story structure of brick, with portico in front supported by massive pillars, and never was hospital more conveniently located with reference to battle-field. To me it was the Castle Beautiful, and even now, as I attempt to write of it, the memories of that time come thronging and surging through my brain, with such forceful rapidity, e
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IN CAMP
IN CAMP
OVER the roadway leading from hospital to camp, I have doubtless traveled many miles. The large space was thickly dotted with white tents, temporary homes of the brave defenders of our country. Here I became familiar with martial music. I returned with “taps” and arose with “revielle,” and to this day the sound of fife and drum stirs every drop of patriotic blood in my veins and takes me back to the days of camp life at Corinth. Here we met brave, grand Mother Bickerdyke, who was such a tower of
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TOUR OF BATTLEFIELD AND DINNER TO MR. CROOKS
TOUR OF BATTLEFIELD AND DINNER TO MR. CROOKS
ONE of our fellow townsmen, Mr. Nathan W. Crooks by name, now a resident of Washington C. H., Ohio, was in camp at Corinth at this time. Escorted by him, my mother and I made the tour of the battle-field. Mr. Crooks carried my little sister in his arms, and to this day, upon occasion, introduces her to friends as the little girl he carried all over the battle-field of Corinth, with the accent on the inth . We visited the R. R. cut where my father held his emergency hospital, with shot and shell
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OUR QUAKER FRIENDS. MY ILLNESS. SUPPER IN THE MESS ROOM
OUR QUAKER FRIENDS. MY ILLNESS. SUPPER IN THE MESS ROOM
JUST as my father recovered sufficiently to walk about a little, he was seized with a violent attack of inflammatory rheumatism, and lay helpless for several weeks. During this time we had four men nurses who assisted my mother in caring for him. They were ward-master Gilmore, Cole, the artilleryman before spoken of, Thomas Terrie, a Scotchman, and Thomas Enslow, from one of the New England States. The latter two were my devoted friends, and gave me little trinkets and keepsakes. The room adjoin
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SUNDAY IN CAMP
SUNDAY IN CAMP
THERE is of necessity in a large camp more or less stir and activity on the Sabbath day, even when no battle is on, but even here there seemed to be a difference between it and other days. There was a hush and stillness in the air that seemed to proclaim, “It is the holy Sabbath day.” Religious services were held by chaplains and pious soldiers. There were several lady nurses, and they occupied a tent near the college building. Their names were: Miss Adaline Williams, Miss Babcock, Mrs. Cunningh
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THE TISHOMINGO HOTEL. MY SCHOOL AND OTHER INCIDENTS
THE TISHOMINGO HOTEL. MY SCHOOL AND OTHER INCIDENTS
THE scene changes. We were now ordered to turn. We “moved” in an ambulance, my father being taken on a cot, and were given quarters in the Tishomingo Hotel. The old Tishomingo House! Can I ever forget it? The historic, dilapidated old hotel through which a cannon ball passed during the progress of battle. We were given a large, cheerless room in the second story; the floor was bare, the four large windows were each guiltless of blind or curtain. Our bed consisted of two cots placed together, wit
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JACKSON
JACKSON
SOME of the happiest days of my childhood were spent in Jackson, magnolia-clad, holly-decked Jackson. I remember the journey very well. We went in a box car, my father on his cot. We had nothing for seats but some boxes. There were armed soldiers on our train. We passed little squads of soldiers at intervals along the roadside, some of whom with stacked arms were engaged in cooking by their campfires. Sometimes the train would stop a few minutes, and some of the “boys” would come up and talk to
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THE MEASLES
THE MEASLES
WHILE in the Manassas House we had many pleasures and some sorrow. In room No. 19 “Little Rosebud” and I had measles, which nearly cost us our lives. We took it of one of the colored chambermaids, who died before we got well. We could see the negro quarters from the back window of our room, and my mother propped me up in bed with pillows, one Sunday afternoon, that I might see poor Ann placed in a common road wagon and hauled away for burial. Little Rosebud’s life was despaired of several times,
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THE STOLEN PRESERVES
THE STOLEN PRESERVES
ABOUT the time of our recovery, the housekeeper, “Irish Mary,” took the measles and was quite sick for some days. She had been in the habit of giving out the linen and towels for the bedrooms and always carried the key to the linen closet, a large wardrobe which stood in one end of the hall. During her illness each lady boarder looked after the supplies for her own room, and would obtain the key when anything was needed. One day a doctor’s wife, an intimate friend of ours, came to our room in gr
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THE THREATENED BATTLE
THE THREATENED BATTLE
IN my visits to the City Hotel and other places it was my delight to scale the “breast works” that barred the way, built of huge bales of cotton belonging to northern speculators. Cotton, which had long reigned king in the South, was now “Uncle Sam’s” servant and was made to do his bidding. Vast quantities were stored away in warehouses and depots, awaiting shipment, when one night the cry went around, “The rebels are coming, the rebels are coming.” The cotton was seized by the military authorit
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CHRISTMAS IN JACKSON
CHRISTMAS IN JACKSON
FOR a time we “fared sumptuously every day,” but there came a time when, owing to burned bridges and blockades, communication was entirely cut off with Cairo, Ill., which was our base of supplies, and the fare became very scant. For several days we had no coffee, but in some manner the landlord managed to secure 50 pounds, for which he paid $50.00. On Christmas Day, 1862, our breakfast consisted of tea, bread, and pickled pigs’ feet; dinner the same with the addition of dried apple pie. In the a
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THE DINING ROOM
THE DINING ROOM
IN the large dining room of the hotel were eight tables, and there was a black waiter for each table. We ate at what was known as the Colonel’s table, and Tom was our waiter. He was as black as the “ace of spades,” but the very pink of politeness. I became so familiar with his “formula” or bill of fare, that I can repeat it now. In times of plenty it was, “Roast beef, roast pork, co’n beef, or meat pie.” Also, “beef-steak or po’k-steak.” If one chose the former, Tom would ask, “Well done or rare
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INMATES AND INCIDENTS
INMATES AND INCIDENTS
THERE were many Northern people at the hotel, and among them we formed pleasant friendships and acquaintances, and visited around from room to room. Those whom I most distinctly remember were Dr. De Forest, wife, and little daughter, of Troy, Ohio; Mr. James Leighton and wife, of Vermont; Captain Ford and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Munn, Mrs. Captain Birch, Mrs. Webb, and “Camp” Dick Robinson, of Kentucky. There were a number of cotton speculators here. Several Jews by the name of Levi from Cincinnati,
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FEEDING THE “BOYS” FROM HOME
FEEDING THE “BOYS” FROM HOME
ONE dark, dreary morning, when the rain was pouring down in torrents, a lot of soldiers took refuge in the lower hall of the Manassas House. I soon learned that there were four “boys” from home among them, that they had been out all night, were cold, wet, and hungry, and to my mind, hunger was the worst of all. To me, in those days, a soldier was greater than a king, and is yet for that matter, and I felt that something must be done. I went to my mother, that never-failing refuge in all my child
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A DAY AT THE CITY HOTEL
A DAY AT THE CITY HOTEL
OUR friends the De Forests, after boarding for a time at the Manassas, removed their quarters to the City Hotel. They had taken under their protecting wing a little yellow girl by the name of “Mandy.” She was sent one day to invite my mother and another lady to spend the day at the City Hotel. Mandy and I had traveled the road many times, and we put our heads together and determined to take them by way of the long line of cotton defences, instead of the open street, as we could just as well have
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VAGRANT MEMORIES
VAGRANT MEMORIES
I OFTEN think of how recklessly I wandered around alone at Jackson. I became familiar with its streets, and if the years have not made too many changes in its appearance, were I there today, I could go right to the Manassas House and Hospital No. 1. No. 2 I did not become so familiar with, as I was there but once. There was a little white house in the cut some distance up the Memphis & Charleston railroad, where lived a family by the name of Clark. I went there many times to play with th
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CORINTH WAR EAGLE
CORINTH WAR EAGLE
THERE was published in Corinth a paper called The Corinth War Eagle . Its editor and publisher was a patriotic young man from the North, whose name was Elbridge Dwight Fenn. I remember him distinctly, although I did not see him while at Corinth, but later on at Jackson, where he was largely in evidence. His name and handsome physique would have fitted him to figure as the hero in a two-volume novel. I saw him frequently at the City Hotel. He was full of life and spirits. I saw him one day dancin
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THE SUTLERS
THE SUTLERS
THE Sutler was an institution of the army. It is useless to describe him. Every old soldier knows him. There were two of “him” here, Patrick and Keene by name, who kept a store in a small room adjoining the hotel; in fact, it was built against it and a step from the veranda led into the store. How clear and familiar it all is to me today, the counter on one side of the room, the little stove and bench on the other. I made many visits to the little store and was always kindly received by its gent
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DAN
DAN
WHILE at the Tishomingo in Corinth we acquired a boy 17 years old, black and raw-boned. His name was Dan Weaver. I do not know how we got him, but having once gotten him we had him. Having learned that where we were he was always sure of something to eat, he was determined to stay with us. We took him to Jackson and he became a part of us. He made himself useful about the hotel, and assisted my mother in taking care of the baby. He would sit with her in his arms and sing by the hour, and sometim
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CLOSING INCIDENTS AND HOMEWARD BOUND
CLOSING INCIDENTS AND HOMEWARD BOUND
FAREWELL to Jackson, sunny Jackson—that is it was sunny when the sun shone, but as dark and dreary as can be imagined when it rained—the very name is dear to me yet, and the memories that cluster around it are dearer still. When I review my four months’ experience in the Sunny South I feel that the memory of it is something to be proud of. I saw no fighting, but there were skirmishes all around us, and many prisoners were brought in. Some of the saddest sights I saw were prisoners being marched
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CONCLUSION
CONCLUSION
YEARS after these events, when white-winged peace hovered o’er all the land, while conning my geography lesson at school, and trying to fix in my mind that the city of Constantinople is situated on the Sea of Marmora, that night of hunger came back to me vividly, and the stern-wheel steamer Marmora, with her lights reflected in the broad bosom of the Ohio, loomed up before me with a reality never to be forgotten. The dear mother who made that long, and in those days perilous, journey, with the c
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