| From the Richmond Dispatch |
| |
| August 14, 1862 |
| |
| Augusta, August 8, 1862 |
| A ride "right through" from
Richmond to this place, during the past week, with the unavoidable
attendants of crowded cars, dust, heat, smoke and sparks, with nothing
but warm water to drink, is anything but comfortable, and yet it is
not by any means devoid of interest. Leaving Richmond at the most
villainous hour of 4.15 A. M. {on the Richmond
& Petersburg RR}, the passenger is in a comatose state
until he has passed the Appomattox, and been jolted over the rough
streets of Petersburg and put down at a hotel, where, whatever may be
his pleasant reminiscences of a good breakfast at the same place in
by-gone days, he will wake up to a painful conviction that the quality
of the fare has been reduced in the same proportion that the price for
the same has been raised. The limited accommodations of the Petersburg
and Weldon Road {the Petersburg RR} insures close packing of the passengers, and they
compose themselves together the best they can, with a sullen
disposition to put up with what cannot be helped, and a hope to get a
better seat when they change cars at Weldon. The morning papers and an
occasional look out pine barrens, stunted corn, and new water
stations, fill up the time until about 10.30, when the luckless town
of Weldon, from which four railroads and everything else except
tavern-keepers and their appendages run, is reached and the passengers
then dividing between the Raleigh & Gaston and the Wilmington
& Weldon roads, more room can be had and more comfortable quarters
obtained. We cannot leave Weldon without mentioning that since it has
been under martial law a very brisk trade has sprung up in eggs, and
although the price has risen to twenty-five cents apiece, yet so eager
are the purchasers to obtain them that, as soon as bought, they are
sucked dry without cooking. A suspicious friend, who was a witness of
some of these transactions, suggested that they were not filled with
the same nutritious substances which were in them when laid. |
| After leaving Weldon, you will be sure to
discover that a large proportion of the passengers are wounded and
sick soldiers "going home," and the wan cheek and hollow
cough of some but too plainly add, "to die." Many are too
feeble to walk, and stow themselves away the best they can, without
any disposition to complain; while others, who are stronger, seem to
make the best of everything, and talk and laugh as cheerfully as
though returning from a frolic, and only look sad when you get them to
talk, and, in describing some battle or skirmish, they tell how some
loved friend fell at their side, and how distressed his poor mother
will be to hear it. Some are wounded badly, just recovering enough to
get sick leave, and a mother, wife, or sister is with them to dress
their wounds as often as is needed. One poor fellow who was with us
had a large hole on his back and left shoulder, either from a sabre
stroke or fragment of a shell, and the suppuration for so large a
surface caused it to require frequent attention. His mother was with
him, and although her heart sickened at the sight of the ugly and
offensive wound, yet with a woman's nerve and a mother's love she
removed the old dressing and replaced it with clean linen, carefully
moistened and tenderly applied, with a skill which no surgeon can ever
expect to acquire. About forty miles below Weldon, the train stops at
a station to fill the water coolers in the cars. All who have traveled
the road before get out and take a deep draught at this well, which is
known as the coldest water on the road, and we may add, according to
our experience, the only cool water between Richmond and Augusta. Very
soon fruits make their appearance, and fine peaches, pears, and apples
are offered for sale. Towards nightfall, the cars stop at a
neat-looking, old-fashioned cottage, and a portly-looking gentleman,
who has attracted attention during the day by his genial humor and
social disposition — seeming to know everybody, and to have a
pleasant smile and a cheerful word for all, gets out of the cars, and
meeting his lively little children, who eagerly seize his hands, he
disappears under a bower of vines which covers the entrance to the
yard. Upon inquiry you are told the gentleman is Major Ashe, President
of the Wilmington & Weldon Road, and that his place is called by
the outre name of the "Devil's Ditch." A fellow-traveler,
who is versed in local historic lore, tells you that the name is
derived from a tradition, in which we learn that when the place was
settled, more than a hundred years ago, the owner was a hard task
master, and having given his negroes as a task the cutting of a very
long and deep ditch to drain this piece of land, they worked at it all
day and it was not half done. He swore that they should finish it
without stopping to sleep, under penalty of some punishment, and when
morning came the work was done. Surprised at the amount of work done,
he demanded to know how it was possible they could do so much more
work at night than during the day?--They replied that soon after dark
the devil made his appearance with a large number of his imps, and
putting the negroes aside, had the ditch done in a short while, and
from that time to this the ditch has been very properly called by the
name of the principal contractor. |
| With the conclusion of this legend we
arrived at Wilmington, and after a scuffle for baggage, and a curse at the apology for a
supper, we got on the ferry boat and crossed the river. Here you find
the cars of the Wilmington and Manchester road guarded by soldiers,
who insist on seeing your pass; after showing which a seat is selected
with a view to spending the night as well as you can, and, after the
cars start, the dim lights reveal to you the forms of your fellow
sufferers in all imaginable positions and postures, while the smoke
and cinders from the engine, and the
hosts of mosquitoes, render the night hideous, you yawn and stretch,
and rub your eyes in the morning, with a vague idea that you have been
buried alive, and were glad to find yourself above ground again. Soon
after sunrise the train stops at
Sumter
, and here is seen the beginning of a tribute to the patriotism of our
soldiers, which is as praiseworthy in those who perform it as it is
acceptable to the recipients. Hearing a sweet voice ask, "Are
there any sick or wounded soldiers in this car?" I looked out,
and found several ladies, (many of them quite young,) with servants,
bearing the finest fruits and melons, which they were pressing upon
all who wore the garb of a soldier, and asking, in the kindest manner,
if there were no others who needed their assistance. A similar scene
was witnessed at every station on the
South Carolina
road. At Orangeburg, where there is a female seminary, there was quite
a galaxy of beauty, and, besides those who had fruits and melons, were
others, who, without these, moved about from one car to another,
without a parasol to shield them from the burning sun, asking every
soldier if he did not wish to have his canteen filled with water, and
eagerly seizing and filling each one that was offered. At many places
those most conspicuous in these attentions wore the weeds of mourning,
and we thought their sympathies for the soldier were probably
strengthen by the tear that had been shed for a loved one, whose bones
now rested uncoffined on the fields of Manassas, Shiloh, or
Chickahominy. Some of the elderly ladies get in the cars at one
station and ride to the next, returning by another train. In this way
they have more time to look after the soldiers than they can have
during the short stoppage. One of these ladies sat by me a short
while, and eagerly inquired about the condition of the army in
Virginia; told me of the letter received from her son, and the
complaint for want of fruits and vegetables, and of the extortion of
the people of Richmond, who asked such high prices for everything.
When she was told that our own and the enemy's armies had entirely
destroyed a large portion of our State, from which we received
supplies of this sort, her ideas of the people of our city were
somewhat softened, and expressed deep regret that there were no
facilities for sending such articles from the superabundance of this
section to the poor fellows in the army. |
| About 4 P. M., we reached Augusta, and
henceforth and forever, when we hear people say it is hotter in
Richmond than it is in Georgia, we shall be prepared to contradict it.
The thermometer in a cool place was at 98½, people walked the streets
as if they were scared. Merchants were indisposed to get up to wait on
you, if you go in a store, and everything indicates a degree of
inactivity and indolence, that is truly oriental. The fare at the best
hotels is about the same as in
Richmond
, with the exception that here there is an abundance of melons,
cantaloupes, and peaches. Martial law has not been established here,
but the supply of liquors is limited, and for want of ice bar-rooms
are dull. All the hotels and boarding-houses are full to overflowing,
with refugees from
New Orleans, Savannah, and other places, either occupied or threatened by the enemy, and
consequently there is quite a display of beauty in the parlors and
piazzas, in the evenings, after the withdrawal of the sun's rays has
rendered existence supportable. The dry goods and grocery stores here
are well filled, and some of our Richmond
ladies would be delighted with the fine chance for shopping. But the
mail is about to close, good by. |
|