The Yankee and the Southern Belle

The Yankee and the Southern Belle

Annabella Purdy glared balefully at Captain Mark James as he glared back at her. She was close to tears; she hid the vials of quinine in her garters; no gentleman would look there. The quinine was destined for the Confederate hospital down the road from the Purdy Plantation. She acted strangely; Mark ordered Mammy to strip her down to her shimmy. Her eyes widened; the dismay she felt at being caught was enough to make her cry. However, he had no idea how protective her Mammy was: “I dun tol you captain, I ain’t gonna help Miss Annabella strip down to her shimmy, no sir, I ain’t gonna do dat no how.” He was not going to argue with Mammy; actually, he admired her spunk in placing herself between Annabella and himself. He stormed out of the house; he would return with a nurse from the field hospital. He galloped off in a cloud of dust. Mammy turned to face Annabella: “Dis is da last time, Miss Annabella, I can’t keep getting you outa da messes you gits into.” Annabella was very contrite: “I am sorry, Mammy, but the quinine is vital to our cause; our soldiers are down with swamp fever. I am going to the field hospital down the road to deliver it in person.” Annabella threw on an old black shawl, ran out the door, and down the road, only to be halted by a sentry: “Halt, who goes there?” Annabella answered: “I have quinine for the troops, may I pass?” The sentry motioned her through. Annabella strode over to the field hospital tent; her father stood as she hoisted her dress, removed the vials of quinine, and handed them to her. “Annabella, you should not have come here by yourself. Why, child, are you here?” Annabella was unsure of herself, but she began: “A Yankee Captain came to the plantation today. I don’t know how he knew I had the quinine. When he rode up to the house, I hid the vials in my garters. He was angry, me told Mammy to help me down to my shimmy. That is why I brought the vials myself. The captain informed me he would return.” Her father took a deep breath: “I am going to send you to your grandmother’s home in Atlanta; it will be safer there than the plantation.” The sun began to rise. Annabella found Mammy in her room, packing her trunks: “Mammy,” she snapped, “what are you doing?” Mammy turned to face her: “Your father sent word to pack you up and git you out of here dis morning. He says there ain’t no time to waste.” Later that morning, Annabella left by carriage for Atlanta; she waved good-bye to Mammy. The trip to Atlanta in the best of times took at least six days; at worst, the Yankees would force them to take back roads, making it seven or eight days. Her driver was Mammy’s son Beau. Beau was a large man; Mammy knew no one would hurt Miss Annabella, with her son on the job. The horse, one of the few left on the plantation, was a strong, well-built carriage horse. He trotted along down the dusty road toward Atlanta. Yankee patrols were present in and around Atlanta; Beau heard the horses' hooves thundering toward. He quickly hid the carriage in the trees; he and Annabella hid there for several moments until the mounted patrol passed by. “Whew, Miss Annabella, that was a close one.” She smiled: “Yes, Beau, it was.” Annabella could smell smoke; she looked in the direction of Atlanta, her eyes widening: “Beau, is that Atlanta burning? Oh, I do hope grandmother is safe.” Beau looked in the same direction as Annabella had: “It do look like Atlanta be burnin', Miss Annabella. We gotta git to yo grandma’s house, the roads ain’t safe to go home.” The Yankee cannons boomed; thick smoke filled the air as they rode down Mulberry Street. She noted that her grandmother’s home was untouched, thus far, by the cannon fire. Annabella flung open the door: “Grandmother, where are you?” Household items were strewn everywhere; trunks were half packed. Annabella looked over toward Beau: “Oh Beau, where could my grandmother have gone? I am frightened. The Yankees are here in Atlanta. What a fix we are in, Beau.” Beau tried to soothe her: “Miss Annabella, dem Yankees ain’t gonna be goin through people’s houses is they?” “Beau, bring in the trunks; we are staying here. I refuse to run from those damn Yankees.” They began to put the house in proper order; there was still some food in the larder, at least there was food. There was a knock on the front door; Beau answered, his liquid brown eyes peered into the gray blue eyes of Captain Mark James, USA. Both men were shocked to see each other. Mark began to say something when Annabella rounded the corner: “Why, Captain James, what are you doin here? I thought we left you back in Sparta.” Mark smiled: “Miss Annabella, any more quinine smuggling? I wish we could be friends instead of enemies.” Annabella returned his smile, as his countenance softened. “Captain would care for a cup of tea? I can put a kettle on.” “I would love to, but I am on patrol, perhaps later tonight.” He bowed toward her and began to leave, when a shell landed across the street. Mark quickly returned inside: “Beau, get Miss Annabella. I will help you get out of Atlanta; it is way too dangerous for her here. The two of you need to return to Sparta NOW!” Mark made the necessary arrangements to get them through the lines safely. He galloped toward General William T. Sherman’s headquarters: “Captain James, I was beginning to think you were AWOL. Where have you been?” Mark took a deep breath: “I need to make a request, General; there is a young woman I met in Sparta. Her father sent her here to her grandmother’s house, thinking it would be safer here.” Sherman turned to face Mark: “Safer? Where the hell is Sparta?” Mark showed the general where it was located on the map. Sherman glanced at the tiny town: “I will issue an order, Captain; for them to pass through our lines, it might be a good idea if you escort them.” Mark saluted, then jumped into his saddle and galloped toward the house on Mulberry Street. Beau informed Annabella that the captain had left but would return shortly. Mark strode into the house: “Beau, is Miss Annabella ready to leave? General Sherman permitted me to escort her back to Sparta.” Annabella wore her house dress and old black shawl; Beau helped her into the carriage. Mark rode ahead of the carriage, as they dodged cannon fire. They returned to Sparta six days later. Mark gave Annabella a sweet kiss: “Annabella, when this war is over, will you consent to be my wife?” Annabella, her blue eyes widened as she replied: “Yes, but I should have known better; I knew you were a decent man otherwise. Well, otherwise you could have had your way with me.” She smiled as tears of happiness welled in her eyes