From H. W.
Monday, May 26. Had quite a talk with Flora over the bed-making; she asked me to hem her a muslin head-hankercher which York had sent her from Hilton Head, and re-string some beads which had come too and been broken. I promised to do it, telling her she would have things enough to remember me by—to which she responded, “Neber forget you, long as I hab breath for draw.” I find they are all beginning to feel badly at our leaving,45 now they know we shall really go so soon.
This is ‘lowance day, and school is always late Monday p. m., but to-day, as they were all together, after they got through their corn, Ranty distributed some salt and mackerel Mr. Philbrick had for them, which kept them till six, our dinner-time, and they lost school altogether, greatly to their regret. We went to the porch to watch the groups, and as they passed us with their baskets on their heads and fish wrapped in green leaves in their hands, they all looked up and curtseyed, with a “tank ’ee, Massa.”
When Flora came in with the tea just after, she was muttering, “Neber see a marn so payshun as Mr. Philbri’,” and then, turning to H. as if she was afraid she did not appreciate his virtue,—“Miss Helen, not two body in de worl’ so payshun as him.” I don’t know what had excited her admiration just then, but she probably never saw a white man before who did not swear, at least. For even her favorite Mass’ Clan’s she does not consider as immaculate, though he would “nebber drive nigger.”
May 28. To the [Pine Grove] quarters to say good-bye all round, stopping at each house. They seemed quite sorry to have us go, expressing their regret by presents of eggs. I filled my pockets and H. her hands; then Mily held her apron and walked home with us; she counted over three dozen in all. My children came in the evening, and we went to bed early; and so passed the last day at William Fripp’s Pine Grove Plantation.
Coffin’s Point, May 29. Before ten the two carts were ready, and Flora and Joe mounted one to help us get to rights. Then H. and Mr. Philbrick went off in the buggy with the span. I was to have gone in the sulky, but harness fell short, and I had to wait till Tom could come back with the mule-cart. So I collected the children and had a last school for them, and when Tom came, locked the door, mounted the sulky (with the white umbrella) onto which the saddles had been tied, and, followed to the gate by the whole tribe singing “A, B, C,” took my departure, the children shouting as I bid them good-bye, “We come for see you!”
As I drove up to the house [at Coffin’s] the yard really looked attractive, as it has some grass in it, though I had not thought the house so. But a day’s work has made a vast change, and to-night it looks quite habitable. It was built in good style originally, but it is very old, and has been so abused by the negroes in the first place, and then from having had soldiers living in it for so many months, it is very shabby. It must have been handsomely furnished, to judge from the relics, for they are nothing more—rosewood tables, sideboards and washstands with marble tops, drawers and doors broken in and half gone, sofas that must have been of the best, nothing left but the frame; no one can conceive of the destruction who has not seen it. The rooms are twelve feet high, and the lower story is more than that from the ground. The air is delicious, and we shall find the blinds which are on the second story a luxury. I have my own little bed, bureau, marble-top washstand, three chairs and a large wardrobe, to say nothing of a piano, in my chamber, which is I should think eighteen feet square.