Chronicles of Chicora Wood. Elizabeth W. Allston Pringle
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Elizabeth W. Allston Pringle
Chronicles of Chicora Wood
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066151003
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I ORIGIN OF THE TWO L ALLSTONS
CHAPTER II PLANTER AND CITIZEN
CHAPTER III MY BROTHER’S NARRATIVE
CHAPTER IV EARLY DAYS AND OLD FIELD SCHOOL
CHAPTER V DADDY TOM AND DADDY PRINCE—DEATH OF LITTLE MOTHER SO BELOVED
CHAPTER VII MOVE TO CANAAN—AUNT BLYTHE
CHAPTER VIII FIRST CHILD—PLANTATION LIFE
CHAPTER XI THE LITTLE SCHOOLHOUSE—BOARDING-SCHOOL
CHAPTER XII SUMMER ON THE SEA—SCHOOL AND DELLA’S ILLNESS AND TRIP ABROAD—PAPA ELECTED GOVERNOR
CHAPTER XIII CHRISTMAS AT CHICORA WOOD
CHAPTER XIV LIFE IN CHARLESTON—PREPARATIONS FOR WAR
CHAPTER XV BOARDING-SCHOOL IN WAR TIMES
CHAPTER XVII CROWLEY HILL—OUR PLACE OF REFUGE DURING THE WAR
CHAPTER XXI PREPARING TO MEET SHERMAN
CHAPTER XXIII DADDY HAMEDY’S APPEAL—IN THE TRACK OF SHERMAN’S ARMY
CHAPTER XXVII GLEAMS OF LIGHT FROM MY DIARY
CHAPTER XXVIII AUNT PETIGRU—MY FIRST GERMAN
CHAPTER XXX THE SCHOOL A SUCCESS
CHAPTER XXXIII DADDY ANCRUM’S STORY
PREFACE
As I sit in the broad piazza, watching the closing of the day, I gaze into the vistas of moss-draped giant oaks. All is mystery, the mystery of nature, the mystery of the ages. These oaks, still strong, still beautiful, have seen generations pass. Through their filmy vistas the god of the day is sending his gleaming shafts as he has always done.
But brighter to me than these last rays is the pageant of the Past, which sweeps before me now: scenes as intense as the flaming sky, incidents as tender as the fleecy clouds, years as dark and tragic as that leaden storm-bank at the horizon’s edge, but redeemed from utter despair by a courage and a sacrifice equal in splendor to its illumined summits.
In my memory are stored the beauty and pathos of these years. Shall I let all this die without a word? These pictures I have treasured—so full of beauty and color—shall I let them fade, even as the sunset, into gray oblivion? I cannot bring before you as clearly as I would the charm and glamour of the past, but I can at least give a faint idea of “the days that are no more.”
ILLUSTRATIONS