As she and her husband left the room, Aunt Nellie said,"Poor girl! she can't forget her children. She's cried for them day and night." Never till then had I felt the full force of Whittier's burning lines: "A แ By storied hill and hallowed grot, -- "What, ho! our countrymen in chains! And bartered, as the brute, for gold!" The night of the 28th of January was a fearful one in Savannah. The inhabitants experienced all the terror of a bombardment combined with the horror of a great conflagration. A fire broke out a little before midnight in a long row of wooden buildings at the west end of the city. The wind was fresh from the northwest, and the night exceedingly cold. My rooms were in the Pulaski House. I was awakened by a sudden explosion, which jarred the house, and heard the cry that the arsenal was on fire. There was another explosion, then a volley of shells, and large fragments came whirring through the air, striking the walls, or falling with a heavy plunge into the street. "There are three thousand shells in the building," said a soldier running past, fleeing as if for his life. "There are fifty tons of powder, which will go off presently," said another, in breathless haste. Fifty tons of powder! Savan nah would be racked to its foundations! There would be a general crumbling of walls. Men, women, and children were running,-crying, and in fear of being crushed beneath the ruins of falling buildings. It was the Rebel arsenal. I could not believe that the Rebels would store fifty tons of powder in the city, and waited for the general explosion. It did not come. Gradually I worked my way, under the shelter of buildings, towards the fire. The fireengines were deserted, and the fire was having its own way, licking up the buildings, one after another, remorselessly. It was a gorgeous sight, the flames leaping high in air, thrown up in columns by the thirteen-inch shells, filling the air with burning timbers, cinders, and myriads of sparks. The streets were filled with fugitives. The hospitals were being cleared of sick and wounded, the houses of furniture. It was grand, but terrible. General Grover at once took measures to arrest the progress of the flames, by tearing down buildings, and bringing up several regiments, which, with the citizens and negroes, succeeded in mastering the destroying element. In the morning there was a wilderness of chimneys, and the streets were strewn with furniture. It was amusing to see with what good humor and nonchalance the colored people and the soldiers regarded the conflagration. Two negro women passed me, carrying great bundles on their heads. "I's clean burned out," said one. "So is I"; and they both laughed as if it was very funny. "Let 'em burn: who cares?" said one soldier. "They have fought us, and now let 'em suffer." "We have got to do guard duty, and it is a little more comfortable to be quartered in a house than to sleep in a sheltertent, so let us save the place," said another; and the two went to work with a will to subdue the flames. General Sherman's Special Field Order No. 15, dated January 16, 1865, permitted the freedmen to take possession of the abandoned lands. A meeting called by General Saxton, who had been appointed Inspector-was held in the Second African Baptist Church, a large building, which was crowded to its utmost capacity by the colored people. It was the first meeting ever held in Savannah having in view the exclusive interests of the colored people. The organist was playing a voluntary when I entered the church. He was a free colored man, a native of Charleston, having a bullet-shaped head, bright, sparkling eyes, and a pleasant voice. He had lived in Savannah nine years, and was a music-teacher,—giving instruction on the violin, piano-forte, and organ, also vocal music, to persons of his own race. He was in the habit of putting in clandestinely some of the rudiments of the English language, although it was against the peace and dignity of the State. He dared to open a school, and taught in secret in the evening; but a policeman discovered that he was an incendiary, and he was compelled to hide till the matter was forgotten. When the voluntary was completed, the choir sung Rev. Mr. Smith's American hymn, Their country! meaningless. "My country, 't is of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing." Their liberty! The words were no longer By request of General Saxton, they also sang Bishop Heber's Missionary hymn, "From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Roll down their golden sand, From many a palmy plain, Their land from error's chain." General Saxton addressed them. "I have come to tell you what the President of the United States has done for you," said he. "God bless Massa Linkum!" was the response of a thousand voices. "You are all free." "Glory to God! Hallelujah! Amen!" they shouted in tumultuous chorus. |