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A Yankee Scholar in Coastal South Carolina
William Francis Allen's Civil War Journals
James Robert Hester, James Robert Hester
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eBook - ePub
A Yankee Scholar in Coastal South Carolina
William Francis Allen's Civil War Journals
James Robert Hester, James Robert Hester
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About This Book
New Englander William Allen (1830-1889) is mostly known today as the lead editor of the 1867 anthology Slave Songs of the United States, the earliest published collection of Negro spirituals, and as a distinguished history professor at the University of Wisconsin. During the Civil War, he served from late 1863 through mid-1864 as a member of the "Gideonite band" of businessmen, missionaries, and teachers who migrated to the South Carolina Sea Islands as part of the Port Royal Experiment. After the war, he served as assistant superintendent of schools in Charleston from April through July 1865. Allen kept journals during his assignments in South Carolina in which he recorded events and impressions of about several hundred people, especially ex-slaves, along with fellow Gideonites, Union soldiers and officials, and ex-Confederates.
In A Yankee Scholar in Coastal South Carolina, editor James Robert Hester has transcribed Allen's journals and fully annotated them to create a significant documentary source of information on Civil War South Carolina. Hester notes that Allen's journals are more than travelogues, as he often analyzed the people, events, and ideas he encountered. In addition to being a competent amateur musician, Allen was a Harvard-trained historian and philologist and brought his impressive skills to his writing. Later in his life he became an eminent professor of history at the University of Wisconsin.
Hester's introductory chapter summarizes Allen's life from his early childhood in Northborough, Massachusetts, through his education at Harvard, his duties as associate principal of the West Newton (Massachusetts) English and Classical School, and his engagement in the Port Royal Experiment. The introduction also surveys Allen's essays on the South published in the Christian Examiner during the Civil War and his articles written for The Nation at the war's end. Two chapters cover Allen's St. Helena and Charleston journals, respectively, and the book closes with a short epilogue. The work is generously annotated, containing almost 600 endnotes, which amplify Allen's narrative and complement Allen's vivid glimpses of coastal South Carolina during the Civil War.
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GeschichteSt. Helena Journal
William Allen, his wife, Mary, and her cousin Caty Noyes left New York for St. Helena Island, South Carolina, at 1:20 P.M. on November 4, 1863.
Steamer Arago,1 Nov. 5, 1863, 9¾ A.M.
Head wind, clouds and rising sea—some white caps. Storm threatening, but it doesn’t seem to grow worse rapidly. However, we are promised a hard blow off Hatteras tonight, which name has always had an ill boding sound to me, from some sailors’ jingle I remember hearing or reading years ago—
If the Bermudas you should pass
Keep good look-out for Hatteras.2
It was a perfectly beautiful day when we sailed yesterday at twenty minutes past one, and we went at good speed through the beautiful harbor, passing the Russian fleet which lay at anchor near the Battery.3 When we went through the Narrows we were at dinner, and on going on deck afterwards, we saw Sandy Hook stretching before us with the fine Nevisink Hills rising over it—the last high land on the coast to one going south,—behind us the noble form of Staten Island and the characterless expanse of Long Island, and to the east the open sea. Then we changed course, skirting along the Jersey coast as near as possible, and then standing south, so that in the evening the North Star was nearly astern. We have a very pleasant company. For some time after we came onboard we didn’t see any familiar faces, altho’ we made acquaintance thro’ father,4 of Mr. Davis,5 the chaplain of the 54th. Soon we saw Seymour Severance’s6 pleasant face, and shortly Mr. Philbrick’s;7 Mr. P. introduced us to Mr. Ruggles8 and Mr. Folsom,9 two of his superintendants, with the latter of whom we are to live, and gradually we made other acquaintances.
There is a large number of officers on board, mostly fine looking gentlemanly men. The highest in rank is Gen. Terry, one of Gillmore’s best division commanders—a tall straight slender man, with a very engaging face, and a goatee beard.10 As senior officer, he assumed command of the troops on board—there are a large number of soldiers forward, some two dozen of them deserters. In the evening some twenty of these came aft to make some complaint to the general—which they did in rather an improper manner. He left them for a moment—I don’t know why—and then came back and ordered them forward. They obeyed reluctantly and slowly, and one of them was so noisy and profane that the general seized him and threw him down upon a bench, ordering him to sit there while he sent the others forward. But presently the fellow started and undertook to run off, the general and two or three others after him, who brought him back and he was marched off under guard to confinement. It was quite an exciting interruption of my quiet walk on deck with Mr. P., who was giving me a good deal of information about affairs at Port Royal.
We have our regular seats at table, assigned by the purser. Mary, Katy11 and I sit next each other, and at our left, at another table, Mr. P. and another gentleman of our acquaintance. Opposite us are three very pleasant gentlemen with whom we are beginning to get acquainted. Mr. Martindale12 is a stout farmer like man from Cleveland, who introduced himself to me, thinking that he recognized my face. He is going south on some civil service and looks like a very competent person. Next to him sits Capt. Robinson13 of the 9th Maine, a middle aged man of a somewhat severe countenance, and taciturn habits, but I made him talk this morning, and found him very agreeable. Then Lieutenant Benjamin, of the [1]57th New York, a very pleasant seeming young fellow, large and well built, modest and quiet.14 At our right are some Germans, very noisy and impolite. We have also just made the acquaintance of Mrs. Peck and her two daughters. Her husband, Dr. P., who is also on board, was one of the pioneers in this educational movement, a Baptist clergyman, established, I believe, at Beaufort. They seem pleasant people.15
Nov. 5 and 6, 7½ P.M.
Creeping creaking along at about seven knots an hour, against the wind. We could go faster, but have a schooner in tow loaded with cattle, and the captain says if we went faster we should pull them under water. The wind is rising, and it will probably blow pretty hard in the morning. Molly [Allen’s nickname for Mary] has been pretty sick all day, has not been at any meals, but has eaten a few crackers. Katy was sick too, but is better to-night. Almost all our party have been more or less uncomfortable—I least, as I have not felt the least qualm until now as I sit here writing with a very slight sensation of discomfort. I have employed the day in walking on deck, writing and reading “Idées Napoléoniennes,”16 also read the second part of the New Gospel of Peace17 aloud to Mary, thus beguiling her sickness a little.
Nov. 6, 8¾ P.M.
It rained this morning with considerable wind and sea, but cleared up about noon, when the sea-sick ones began to make their appearance upon deck one by one. It has been a lovely afternoon, so warm that I put on a thinner coat. We passed Hatteras Light, I believe, this evening, so our voyage is more than half done, and we are now making eight knots. I have been reading Romola18 to-day and like it much—better I think than Adam Bede.19 Still, as an historical novel, it lacks a little in distinctness—it has so complicated historical events and such a large number of characters.
There is a good deal of snobbishness and exclusiveness among some of the officers, who seem to conceive that their shoulder straps set them up above other men. Mr. Davis, the colored chaplain of the 57th,20 has to sleep on a sofa in the companion way and eat with the servants. I think it is an affront to the commonwealth, and if the captain21 were a different sort of man I had a notion of asking him why it is so. But he is the biggest of snobs, very polite to ladies and to the high officers on board, but high and mighty towards the rest of the passengers. I never sailed with a captain before who didn’t take pride in making his ship equally comfortable to all. Part of the distance on the part of some of the officers arises no doubt from the feeling that civilians have no business on board, and are in the way. There is some ground for this, because it is true that some officers were crowded out by the number of civilians, among others Capt. Saxton,22 brother of the general. But it all depends upon the military authorities themselves. If they choose to arrange matters so loosely that important officers can be kept out, they have nobody to blame but themselves. And besides, the real abuse is that persons who have no right to them get passes. There is room enough for officers and for bona fide teachers, but there is a lot of officer’s wives, who are not wanted, but who get appointments as teachers, without any intention of teaching, that they may join their husbands. But the officials in New York refused to let me take on board that box I packed in Keene [N.H.], and I had to leave it to come by express. This was a mere piece of malice because I was a civilian. I saw on board several boxes with officers’ names on them, which were quite as little personal baggage as mine. That it was mere piggishness is clear from this, and from the fact that the box would have come on by express in this very steamer, if I had delivered it in season.
Sunday, Nov. 8, 10½ A.M.
We have just passed Charleston harbor, stopping twice to receive dispatches and land passengers. We stopped outside the bar, and boats came off from the Wabash23 and other vessels. We saw Charleston quite distinctly, and Fort Sumter standing defiantly in the middle of the harbor. The top is all knocked to pieces, and there was still going on a slow bombardment from Battery Gregg.24 We would see a column of smoke arising from Gregg; then casting our eyes to Sumter we would shortly see a puff of white smoke denoting the bursting of a shell, or a dark spot on the side wall where the ball struck and knocked up a cloud of dust and debris. Gradually this would disappear, and by that time we would hear the report. Morris Island we saw very distinctly, white with tents, and its shore lined with vessels. We could make out the ironsides and several monitors. Then Folly Island, with less tents, but with a high tower to serve as an observing station. We are now making good headway, and there are to be services soon.
Yesterday was a delightful day, passed as usual in reading, walking and talking. I talked a little with Lt. Col. Strong,25 of the 1st S.C. (Higginson’s),26 a middle aged man who seems to be genuine, earnest and brave. Before breakfast we were passed by the famous Peterhof,27 now bought and put in commission by Uncle Sam. Then there were the other variations of a sea voyage—porpoises, heaving the log,28 and an attempt at a dance,—not very satisfactory, because there were only three ladies and a fat colonel had to take the place of the fourth.
Hilton Head, Nov. 8, 8 P.M.
We reached here about 5½ this afternoon—just about one hundred hours from New York—and here we are lying at the foot of the pier in the bright starlight, with the water all around reflecting the lights of the numerous vessels that lie at anchor on both sides the harbor. It is very beautiful. A steamboat is to carry us up to Beaufort in the morning, and so we have another night on the steamer. The day has passed about as usual except for the holding of services at 11, and the excitement of approaching land. Mr. Strout,29 chaplain of the 9th Me., conducted services; but Dr. Peck made the address, and Mr. Martindale and Mr. Davis made prayers. We had a circuitous route to enter the harbor, as the channel runs far to the south, and we had to pass quite by before we turned to come in. The harbor is quite broad (Port Royal Entrance) and runs straight back under the name of Broad River so far that we can see no land beyond it. Hilton Head is, you know, the southern side of the Entrance, and Bay Point the northern. The first landing made by our troops was, I suppose by accident, at Hilton Head, so this has continued to be ever since the chief army-station, head quarters of the department of the South, altho’ less healthy, less pleasant, and a less secure harbor than Bay Point, which is occupied by the vessels of the navy department. There is quite a settlement at Hilton Head, and the forest of masts on both sides give the bay the appearance of a great emporium. It seems to me it must be so in future, for it has the best harbor between Norfolk and Pensacola.
Seymour Severance stood by our side as we came up to the pier (1/4 mile long) pointing out the various buildings on shore, and the town had a decidedly oriental look with its broad-topped pines, tents and low buildings (only two in the place having two stories) So our voyage is ended—very pleasant to me, but very unpleasant to Molly, who has been very sick nearly all the time. We had to find our chief enjoyment by ourselves, for the passengers were not very social. Those I have mentioned, and one or two others, were very affable and met us half way; but most were very distant, and ill-disposed to make acquaintance, so I soon gave up the attempt and made myself comfortable with books and the few persons I knew.
Our special party is a very pleasant one. Mr. Philbrick is short, with sandy hair, and full sandy beard, a full forehead and good eyes; he is one of those who is full of ready information and practical good sense on all subjects. Ruggles is tall and well-built, very handsome, with full brown beard, and manly, weighty face; no great talker, but genial, companionable and self-reliant. Folsom is very tall and slender, with hair as light as mine, and boyish sunburnt face; full of fun and with a good deal of ready wit. He looks very young, but Mr. P. says he has a great deal of tact and practical sagacity. Dyer,30 Ruggles’ companion, is about my height, slender, light-complexioned, with whiskers and a somewhat reserved look, altho’ I find him sociable enough. Socially he seems the least valuable of the company, but he has a good tenor voice, and will be quite an acquisition in that way. I should think he had a good deal in him, but it isn’t so easily got at as in the others. Then there is Winsor,31 Mr. P’s clerk, a handsome young fellow, whom I have not talked with at all. Capt. Hooper,32 Gen. Saxton’s aid, has just been in, and we had a few words with him. The steamer was signaled to Beaufort, and he and some others came down in a steamboat to get the mail, and Folsom and Ruggles have gone back with him. Capt. H. is practically the head of the Freedmen’s department, and a very competent and efficient person, from all accounts. He is very much beloved and admired. He is of middle height, with beard about his mouth, of dignified bearing, and one of those faces that is habitually without a smile, altho’ his smile is a very pleasant one. He brought news to a Mrs. Murray33 of Newport that her sister at “the Oaks”34 is at the point of death; and she and her mother also went to Beaufort with him.
Coffin’s Point,35 Nov. 10, 1 P.M.
We had an early breakfast yesterday morning, and then Mr. P. and I went on shore to get our passes to Beaufort. At about ten a small steamboat was ready for use to us, and we steamed up the Beaufort River, which branches from Broad River directly opposite Hilton Head, having Parris Island on our left and Bay Point (Phillips Island) and St. Helena Island on our right. There was a large number of ships lying in this fine harbor, among them two monitors. We went very near one of them, a queer flat raft with the “cheese box,” smoke pipe, railing, pilot house and several human beings rising from about the level of the water. Of the other, the smoke pipe was quite riddled with balls. Here at Land’s End (the end of St. Helena) is the proper place for a great city and here are already foundries, dock-yards etc. going up. It was a pleasant sail up the river, novel to us, but with little variety; and we talked on the quarter desk with Mr. P., Mr. Hammond,36 the superintendent of Parris Island, and others. Soon we came to Port Royal Island on the left, and Cat, Cane and Ladies’ on the right. Beaufort is a charming looking place from the water, and indeed is quite pleasant in itself. The houses are large and airy, and it is well shaded.
Capt. Hooper met us at the pier and took us to his office, while Mr. P. saw to getting the baggage to the ferry. We mailed several letters here—one I mailed for home with two sheets of my journal, for fear I might miss the mail if I waited. You will probably receive this by the same mail. Our baggage went across in a flat boat, while we were rowed by four lusty negroes, with a white coxswain. The ferry, as well as the steamboat from Hilton Head, are government affairs, and charge no fare. [See Port Royal Map and Key for Allen’s route from Beaufort: to the “R.’s” (No. 4), past the John Fripp (No. 8) and Thomas B. Fripp (No. 9) Places, past Pine Grove (No. 13), and ending at Coffin Point (No. 12).]
We were now on Ladies’ Island (Beaufort is on Port Royal Island), and walked up the road a few rods to a negro’s quarters, where we sat on some logs until fate should get us further along. Mr. Philbrick borrowed a horse and rode on to Ruggles’; Winsor went on with Ruggles’ team, which had come for his luggage, and took some of our lighter pieces, while Molly, Katy and I sat down and waited. It was now about 12½. There was a hedge of prickly pears on the other side of the road,—a cactus with fierce thorny leaves, and I picked one of its handsome purple pears, in so doing, getting my fingers full of minute thorns or prickles, which it took some time to get out; one of them broke out and my finger is quite sore now with it. Then I opened the concern, taking good care not to touch it with my fingers, and dug out a little of the rich red pulp, but found it not worth eating, altho’ in hot summer weather it may be refreshing. We hadn’t pr...