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Woodlands, South Carolina Woodlands � February 28-March 2nd 2003 Friday morning dawned cool and crisp as Uncle Asa, Linda, and I headed out for South Carolina. Our trip was pretty much uneventful until we crossed into SC, and then we had a little bit of difficulty figuring out our route. We had some great period music going and Linda Lou and I took turns driving there and back. The trip was very pleasant � even getting disoriented and traveling through the back of the property at Woodlands in search of the house. We got a great look at some SC swamp land much to the amusement of Chris. Friday night was clear and cold with stars the likes of which I�ve never seen before. At one point Lucy and I drug our bed role into the garden and just lay there looking up at those bright far away stars. Before turning in we thought it wise to put our bed in the house and as it turned out that was a good decision. When a slow rain began to fall we were joined in the parlor of Woodlands by the rest of our buds. Saturday was rainy and cool, but that morning the first person interaction between the civilians and military was top notch. The Federals made a successful raid even discovering the goods we�d hidden in a massive live oak tree. As they approached Lucy and I were sitting in another of the gardens deep in thought and discussion when an unexpected voice told us to get on along to the back of the house with the others. Our captor inquired as to whether we were the only folks strayed off from the others to which we replied we were. We were then �escorted� to the company of the others by several armed Federal soldiers. They discovered Chris� gear on one of the porches and demanded to know if we were harboring enemy soldiers to which we responded we had no knowledge of the gear in question. The soldiers made no effort to offer us ladies the shelter of the nearby porch and continued to demand we sit quietly until they determined what to do with us. I took it upon myself to issue the women and child present comfort on the porch despite the protests from the soldiers. Once we had taken shelter we realized we were protected from the rain but all our food and goods were now left to the mercy of the federal soldiers. These soldiers seemed intent on keeping a close eye on the grown-ups present, but 11 year old Leila seemed to be able to come and go at will without eliciting any response from them. She very cleverly managed to make several trips in and out of the porch each time arriving back with a quantity of food cleverly hidden under her shawl. By the time the federals discovered her mission she had managed to retrieve most of the food and get it to us safely. When one of the federals made a threatening gesture I told him he would not dare harm a child at which point Leila smiled prettily, kicked him on the shin, and we made our way quickly back to the safety of the screened porch. A very clever child, that one, and such a joy to have in our presence. One of the officers made out a receipt for the goods the soldiers helped themselves to, however, the spirits consumed by some of them were not listed. When I inquired he stated he�d seen no spirits, therefore, was not obligated toward reimbursement. Later on, another officer feeling some degree of pity on us graciously gave us a large quantity of coffee the likes of which we hadn�t seen in quite some time.
This same officer was the one I applied to for payment of goods taken from Mr. Simms� home. He seemed somewhat amused when he asked me something regarding the list the other officer gave me and was told that I could neither read nor write. There was also some degree of mirth expressed from the soldiers taking refuge in the smoke house with him. He counted out money and asked me if it seemed fair to which I replied yes, but I would like a signed receipt from him so that I could give it to Mr. Simms. I had to take his word for the truth of his words not being able to read it for myself, and in exchange made my mark on a receipt he produced for my signature for the money received. The soldiers inside made some reference to his name being �gouge� which being a lady I was not prone to understand, until I arrived back at the house and Uncle Asa and Mr. Cooley pointed out to me that we were in South Carolina and the officer had just paid me in Georgia script. The same Federal officer who had given me the receipt questioned my Lucy on her affiliation with a cavalry soldier in the Confederate army to which Mrs. Yeager pointed out the impropriety of such. He very angrily expressed his displeasure with her. Poor Lucy found herself in a quandary since Mrs. Yeager was advising her on one course of action while Uncle Asa and Mr. Cooley pursued another. My inquiry as to which of the Federals had made the inquiry and the extent of the message met with no success at all other than my getting wet standing outside the smokehouse waiting for a reply. Later in the day weather conditions steadily deteriorated and the soldiers began to leave for other areas leaving us to our own devices inside the stately mansion. The family was very gracious and invited us to partake of the warm fire which we were very grateful for. Earlier in the day despite our predicament of being under guard of federal troops we had entertained them with parlor games and a tableaux. One of the federals in the guard found the topic of the tableaux to be expressive of too much Southern sympathy at which point we were advised for our own safety we might avoid any other such portrayals. During the night a great storm raged outdoors with lightening giving the interior of the home a strange unworldly appearance, thunder crashed all around us and great drops of rain pelted everything in a fury. We were indeed thankful for the protection of the home and slept in relative comfort. Sunday morning we left our friends promising to see them in a month in Tennessee, and made our way out of the state of South Carolina. We reached Pickett�s Mill near Atlanta before weariness suggested we stretch our limbs on a walk about the mill and grounds. We enjoyed the companionship of a couple of Georgia friends before again climbing into the wagon bound for home. Today I sit reflecting on the friendships and contentment of the last two weekends and looking forward to the next time our little family comes together. I feel fortunate to have friends who genuinely care for me, and who can turn any situation into a memorable and happy one. Until we meet again, I remain your humble servant, Mrs. Pinckney, Caretaker, Woodlands Plantation
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