My Vicksburg Read Online Free Page A

entrenchments. Shells and balls fell all around us even as we were getting into the cave.
    On top of the floors, especially in the bedrooms and parlor, were Persian carpets. Pa had ordered all this, and Andy and Clothilda carried out his wishes.
    It was the nearest to home as they could make it. And Mama cried when she saw it and realized what he had done for us.
    Easter had set up a cooking area just outside the cave, because there was no ventilation inside. There were no windows. She made a pot of coffee that evening for us, during the break at eight o'clock, and we were able to go outside and see our own soldiers marching by because we were not far from the main road. They looked good, hearty and not downcast, and I could have watched them all evening, except that soon the shelling started again and
Mama called me and James inside to help her make cartridges on the kitchen table.
    "It's the least we can do. A captain from the 26th Louisiana Infantry will be by to pick them up in the morning. He's the one who left the black powder and all the fixings."
    We worked until about eleven that night and made a whole pile of musket cartridges. Then we had a visitor.
    Andy, from home. He stood there in the entrance hall. "Ma'am."
    "Yes, Andy. Would you like some coffee? How did you get here with all the shelling?"
    He gave a slow smile. I noticed for the first time that his hair was graying on top. He'd been with us as long as I could remember. Chip came in then and stood just behind him. Deferring always to Andy, even though Chip was Pa's personal man. "They's firing Parrott guns now from the peninsula across the way," Andy told us, "but I got enough 'sperience so's I know how to dodge 'em. Ma'am, I come to ask your opinion and tell you something not so good."
    "Yes, Andy." Mama stood up. She was ready for anything.
    There was a pause. Andy twisted his hat in his hands. "Well, you know our army gots about seven hundred mules. An' we gots no food for 'em. So we're givin' 'em over to the Yankees, 'cause they can feed 'em. I tell you this 'cause you all are gonna be seein' 'em driven right by on this highway on the way to the Yankees' camp tomorrow."
    "You mean we're giving
all
our mules to the Yankees?" Mama asked.
    "Just about," Andy said. "But that's not the bad part. Some horses, too. No corn is to be issued for the horses. Except for those in the field."
    Silence. I held my breath because I knew what was coming. So did Mama.
    "There be no officers here for Diamond and Jewel. So we get no corn. And our supply is taken by the army. We can't buy any or steal it. So I wanted to ask what you want me to do with 'em, ma'am. The horses, that is. And that means the carriage horses, too."
    "We can take them to Grandma's, Mama," I intervened. "I can ride Jewel there, and Andy can take Diamond. We can lead the carriage horses."
    "Quiet, Claire Louise." I'm sure Mama did not mean to be so sharp. "I need to think," she said. And in a moment she had thought it out.
    "What word did my husband leave with you about the horses?" Mama asked Andy.
    He looked at the floor. "That no matter what, no harm was to come to them. And not to let them starve. Shoot them first, he said. Or give them away."
    "Nooo!" I wailed.
    "Claire Louise!" Now she did mean to be sharp.
    "Yes, ma'am," I said.
    "So you know what you must do then, Andy. Take Chip with you when you bring them to the Yankees
tomorrow. Wait, I'll write a note for you to give to an officer. Claire Louise, get me paper and pen."
    It took me some time, but I found the required paper and pen and ink. And in a few moments Mama had penned the note that would ensure that the four horses would go to good officers and be treated well. From a respected officer and doctor in the Confederate army. And that, if alive after the war, she told where they should be returned.
    She gave the note to Andy.
    "I believe I'll go there tomorrow at eight when the shelling stops. I know the back paths, out of the way of the