Letters and diary of Laura M. Towne

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

St. Helena’s, August 26, 1862.

It is too bad that I have had lately so little time to write. But you may guess how hard it is by the sketch of a day that I will give you.

I get up about six and hurry down so as to have breakfast by seven for Captain Hooper to set out to the ferry for Beaufort. After that I generally have three or four patients, feed my birds, and am ready by nine for driving out to see my patients on five plantations — only one plantation or two a day, though. The roads are horrible and the horses ditto, so I have a weary time getting along, but it is enlivened by a little reading aloud, Ellen and I taking turns at driving and reading. We come hurrying home by two o’clock or a little before, using mental force enough to propel the whole concern — horse, carriage, and ourselves. We snatch a lunch and begin school. I have the middle class, Ellen the oldest and youngest. At four, school is out for the children. Ellen then takes the adults while I go doctoring down to the “nigger houses,” or street of cabins. As soon as I get home (generally with six or seven little negro girls and boys — or babies — tugging to my dress and saying, “my missus” — the little things that can scarcely speak each having chosen a favorite “missus”), I run up the flag and the men come for their guns. This is about six o’clock. They drill an hour or so, and then I take the guns again. They are kept in the room next to mine, under lock and key. Then I dress for dinner, and order it, or see to its coming upon the table in some presentable shape. Dinner takes till eight or half-past, or even, if Captain H. is detained, till half-past nine. I generally have several patients to attend to in the evening, and the rest of the time Ellen and I are kept busy folding papers for the medicines. We go upstairs so as to begin to undress at ten, and we are so sleepy that I often get sound asleep just as soon as my head touches the pillow. We both keep hearty and strong. The negroes say I am strong “too much.” . . .

By the vessel that has come I expect letters from all of you. It has been so long since I heard, that I am quite lonely. I dread any news from the army. General Saxton is talking of making his headquarters on this island, but alas, not here! He has to take his staff and stores with him, and we could not have them here very well. We have good, gentle, conscientious Mr. Soule here, and as he is General Superintendent of these two islands, that is something. I hope we shall not lose Mr. Hooper, who is the best fellow that ever lived. I have great discussions with him upon anti-slavery.

Nelly Winsor has not got back yet. We do very well — better than I expected — without her, but I shall be very glad to have her return. I am not at all sorry that I did not accept the superintendency of the place, for it would be too much care of a kind that I do not like — accounts, pay-rolls, rations to be measured exactly, complaints to hear and satisfy, authority to exert. I like my position as volunteer and would not willingly give it up.

The mosquitoes are so horrible that we cannot, generally, write at all in the evening. Even Ellen has given up writing then, entirely, except on such a night as this, when it is an easterly cold storm, and the pests are all blown away. We tried getting under the mosquito net and writing, but having twice set it on fire we are afraid to venture, and have positively abandoned all attempts to use a candle at night for reading or writing.

Wednesday.

I keep hoping for more time and now I think I shall take it. The “fever month” is over, and the fever proves all a scarecrow. Common chills and fever have now begun, but of a very easily managed kind. I have had good luck with my patients so far, and my fame is tremendous. One woman died, though, that might have been saved, I think.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 25, Monday.

Ellen, Mr. Soule and I drove over to see Miss Thompson at Thorpe’s, near the village. She was just teaching her school, which is pretty large. She was very pleasant. Every night she suffers terror for fear of an attack by the rebels, as that point is somewhat exposed.

Mr. Barnard was there and showed us his people and their quarters, seeming to feel keenly their deprivations. He is not just like himself, though, more quickly impatient, and I think he holds unsound opinions lately — quite different from his old ones. He thinks the guns granted to the plantations mischievous, and drilling the men wrong; and he is very much opposed to forming companies — says it will teach the men to be insubordinate. I was astonished, and asked whether he did not think it would civilize them, make them manly, and teach them order and systematic obedience. We disagreed in opinions, but we are good friends always.

Great talk of evacuation of these islands. General Saxton thinks of making Lands End[1] his headquarters. I think all this troubles Mr. Barnard.

[1] Lands End was nearly opposite Hilton Head, and a considerable distance from the Oaks.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 23.

Captain Hooper had to go to-night to arrest Archie for killing cows. This Archie, or Archibelle, as the people call him, is Susannah’s eldest son. He was married to Madeline, of “Sarah Perry’s,” by Mr. Pierce, the night I arrived at the Oaks. He has not treated his wife well. He volunteered in Hunter’s regiment and deserted several times, but was forgiven. Hunter did not even punish desertion severely, for two reasons. He had promised the people pay for their services as soldiers and he could not keep his promise, and he thought the men did not yet understand the stringency of military law and should be excused till more used to it.

Archie went by the name of Baltimore Chaplin and was so able and intelligent that he was made sergeant. He was Dr. Daniel Pope’s body-servant or peculiar boy, and had rendered him a service that made the people at the Oaks hate him.

After the flight of the rebels at the taking of Hilton Head, which the negroes always call the “Gun shoot at Bay Point,” ” Ma’ Dan,” or Master Daniel, returned several times to take away clothing, corn, and poultry,—indeed, all the provisions he could carry, and to burn Eustis’ bridge, — an intention frustrated, after it was actually fired, by the energy of our people and those on the Eustis place. He also threatened to burn the cotton in the cotton-house. He came, too, to take away slaves. He wanted two especially — Rina, who was washer and ironer for the family, and the child’s nurse called Bella. Rina always ran and hid in time. She was a “fair partridge for run,” people say. Bella, too, escaped till one time Archie, having discovered her retreat, hid in the path while Dr. Pope went up to the door of her house. She was surprised and ran from the back door. She would have escaped Dr. Pope, but she ran directly into Archie’s arms, and he called out, “Now, we’ve got you!” He was very young — a mere boy — and doing his master’s work according to his orders, but the people will not forget his treachery.

Archie seems entering now upon a desperate course. He is fitted for such a life by his former hardships and experiences. After Dr. Pope took him away the last time, he was once very severe, and Archie ran away to get back to his mother. He was captured and whipped — kept, too, in the stocks a cruel time. So he resolved to escape, and finally reached his mother’s home, worn out with hunger and fatigue, having waded in the swamps — or “bogged,” as they call it — for miles, and having been days and nights in the woods, with almost nothing to eat. He seems now to be chief of a gang of men who kill cows on the plantations and sell the beef to the soldiers at Hilton Head — a profitable trade, but a dangerous one. Captain Hooper saw him, told him he was arrested, and ordered him to report to Mr. Williams in the morning. He thinks Archie will do it.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 15, Friday.

Heavy firing heard before sunrise. Two gunboats stationed at the mouth of our creek. Am preparing my Philadelphia money for safety and I shall have the guns loaded.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 13, Wednesday.

Dr. Wakefield and Mr. Breed went to General Hunter complaining that the negro regiment was quartered in their garden. General Hunter, who has always suspected the superintendents of preventing enlistment and frowning upon negro soldiers, became so exasperated by their complaints that he threatened to send them home in irons if they oppose the negro regiment any more. General Saxton is very angry at their taking it upon themselves to go to General Hunter. They are under General Saxton’s authority and it was extreme disrespect to go to General Hunter to obtain his interference in General Saxton’s department.

I run up the flag every evening for our men to assemble and drill.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] 9th.

. . . Ellen and I took the little children into the creek to bathe, having dressed them in some of the “theatricals” that came down here. There was more fun and mud than cleanliness.

Hunter’s negro regiment disbanded! Hunter almost broke his heart pleading for pay for them, and now that he sees he cannot obtain it, he disbands “for a time,” he says, and sends the men to “gather crop.”

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 6, Wednesday.

. . . They say the iron “Ram” from Charleston is going to make a descent upon us.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] August 4.

Bad news to-night. Halleck is made General-in-Chief of the Army. There has been a meeting in New York of conservative men who sent a petition to Lincoln for emancipation.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] July 31. 1862.

Mr. Soule came to live here as General Superintendent. He has recently had his arm broken and is not yet able to cut up his food at dinner, so I did it for him, to Ellen’s most amusing annoyance.

Pay-day for the negroes. Nelly and Mr. Hooper paid them at the rate of $2 per acre. Most of the women had earned $5 — the men, on an average, not so much.