 | Chapter Second Papers of Philena Carkin |  |
2. Chapter Second
I wonder if I shall ever forget the absorbing
interest with which I looked from the car window
as I traveled down the Orange & Alexandria R. R.
the morning of March 2d 1866. The names of the
different stations as they were hurled at us by the
shrill quick voice of the conductor — Brandy
Manassas — Rappahannock — Orange — Culpepper
Rapidan etc had each its little separate history
that meant so much to me or some one that I knew.
One year of peace had not effaced the outward
scars of war. Remnants of old uniforms, old
canteens, and the bleaching bones of horses were
scattered all about, while here and there stockades
and other defensive works still remained. "The
Yankees have made a terrible piece of work of
this country" said a lady who occupied a seat
by my side a portion of the way.
At Gordonsville the cars stopped half an
hour for refreshments or some other cause, and
it was curious to see the crowd of colored men,
women, and children who seemed to spring
aloft a tray of eatables. They flocked about the
car windows vieing with each other in their efforts
to secure the attention of the passengers. "Have a
snack!" "Have a snack!" "Nice fresh snack!"
came from many pairs of lips at once, while
as many pairs of eyes threw beseeching glances upon
the faces of the passengers inside. I succumbed to
the combined entreaty of lips and eyes, and
invested in a piece of some fried chicken, daintily
couched upon a piece of bread, although I
had brought a well filled lunch basket with me, the
contents of which were not as yet exhausted.
The chicken proved quite palatable, but its
accessory, the bread, belonged to that unfortunate
class of objects whose appearance is not such as
to create a desire for a more intimate acquaintance
so, as the train moved on I cast it forth, heedless
as to whether it fell "upon the waters" or
otherwise. If it did pray Heaven it may
not "return" even "after many days."
One source of constant anxiety to me
was that at so many places where we stopped, there would
sign of life would be a man standing upon an
uncovered platform, a saddled-horse tied to a post, and
two or three barrels and boxes doing duty for civilization
I thought if Charlottesville should be like that what was
I to do with my two trunks and no conveyance to take
me anywhere. However as the train approached my
destination there grew to be a more decidedly inhabited
look about the country, and finally we steamed into
Charlottesville, amid the shouts of hack drivers and
porters. In something of a spirit of mischief I addressed
myself to several white ladies asking where I could
find Miss Anna Gardner, she being the teacher who had
preceded me by several months, and with whom I
was to be associated. Each one whom I addressed
drew back with a cold stare and the reply "No, I don't
know her." so I gained nothing by my questions but
the curious, and not over friendly regard of the crowd
assembled at the station. I was about to pursue my
inquiries among the colored people where I knew
I should get the information I required when I
met another lady to whom I put my question. She,
more courteous than the others pointed out an
where I wished to go, and even spoke to the driver for
me. I learned her name afterwards, but regret to
say I have forgotten it, but I have not forgotten her
exceptional politeness
Upon arriving at my destination I was
deposited upon the broad piazza of an immense
brick building the exterior of which struck me as
being inan advanced state of dilapidation A wide
hall, the door of which stood open passed through the
centre terminating in a door at the rear, with
a corridor running from midway to the left.
At the right of the hall the whole lower floor formed
one large room. At the left were four square rooms.
I do not suppose I studied out this fact immediately
upon entering, but having pointed out the features
of the hall, enter into this further bit of information
The only person in sight was a blue-coated soldier
pacing the hall with a gun upon his shoulder. I was
about to go forward and address him, when an
officer stepped out of a door at the left. I explained
my business to him, and he kindly sent a message
to Miss Gardner, who was in school at that hour, to
me to dine with his family who were quartered there.
This officer was Major Head — a man with many
good qualities and one great failing — an occasional
over indulgence in strong drink. While awaiting
dinner Miss Gardner came in. Although this
was our first meeting it seemed as if we were old
acquaintances, as we were both Massachusetts
women, and met upon what then seemed
the soil of the enemy, and amid such formidable
surroundings. And so began a friendship
which lasted as long as she lived.
After dinner Major Head and Miss Gardner
held a council, and a room was given me
on the second floor which had been occupied
by a young man — Mr. Woodman — a teacher
from Newburyport Mass. He had occupied the
room but a short time and then gone to board
in a family near by named Musgrove. Mr. Musgrove
was also a teacher.
The room was bare of furniture except
a bedstead made of short pieces of timber for parts upon
which strips of board had been mailed forming
used by Mr. W. was still there. There was also a
primitive sort of a washstand with the bowl
and pitcher of the previous occupant.
Major Head sent his orderly for my trunks and
when they arrived, Miss Gardner directed her woman
to build a fire in the fireplace which stretched
across a corner of the room, and brought me
in a wooden chair, a small square table
of the same rude style as the washstand and
a short bench. I unpacked my trunks, made
up my bed, having brought bedding for the purpose,
hung up my dresses on nails that were driven
in the wall, put some books and small articles
on the broad mantelpiece and sat down feeling
quite at home. I had come out expecting
rough living, and should have been truly
disappointed had I found home comforts and
luxuries
The next day I went with Miss Gardner to
her school which was kept in a large wooden
building erected by the Confederates for a hospital
It was 140 feet long by some 70 feet in width
school building for three or four years, and for
a portion of that time we had living rooms
fitted up for ourselves in the second story.
Here we had a school of four grades numbering
something more than two hundred pupils,
ranging in age from six to twenty five or thirty
years, and of every shade of color from the purest
blonde to the duskiest black. I even had for a
time in my day school two women who were
past sixty years of age, for old as well as young
flocked to us hungering and thirsting for the
knowledge which had been denied to them
heretofore. Poor souls! It was hard to refuse any
but our conveniences for teaching were limited.
I opened an evening school where I instructed
forty-five adults, three evenings in a week, and
we encouraged our more advanced pupils to
impart what they learned in school to their
less favored friends; and this was the way the
work began in Charlottesville.
When at the end of nine and a half years
I bade a final adieu to the scene of so much
the place where we had found a race of people so
ignorant that they imagined "a right smart
education" could be acquired by a few weeks study.
Their mistakes in this matter were both ludicrous
and pathetic. Said one man, who by his native
shrewdness and industry had acquired some little
property. "I shall take Sarah (his daughter) out of
school. I have been sending her to Miss Anna dese
six months and she dont know 'nuff to do my law
business for me." But old and young learned, in
time, that an education could not be acquired
in six months or six years, and as time sped on
the mists were lifted in a measure from their poor
darkened eyes, and they began to realize that
freedom meant ownership of themselves with
the privilege of choosing their own occupations — not
as theymany of them first thought, exemption from all labor.
| Chapter Second Papers of Philena Carkin | |