It is more than a year now since last we looked upon the inmates of
Spring Bank, and during that time Kentucky had been the scene of
violence, murder, and bloodshed. The roar of artillery had been heard
upon its hills. Soldiers wearing the Federal uniform had marched up and
down its beaten paths, encamping for a brief season in its capital, and
then departing to other points where their services were needed more.
Morgan, with his fierce band of guerillas, had carried terror, dismay,
and sometimes death, to many a peaceful home; while Harney, too,
disdaining open, honorable warfare, had joined himself, it was said, to
a horde of savage marauders, gathered, some from Texas, some from
Mississippi, and a few from Tennessee; but none, to her credit be it
said, none from Kentucky, save their chief, the Rebel Harney, who
despised and dreaded almost equally by Unionist and Confederates, kept
the country between Louisville and Lexington in a constant state of
excitement.
At Spring Bank, well known as the home of stanch Unionists, nothing as
yet had been harmed, thanks to Alice's courage and vigilance, and the
skill with which she had not only taught herself to handle firearms, but
also taught the negroes, who, instead of running away, as the Wendell
Phillips men of the North seem to believe all negroes will do, only give
them the chance, remained firmly at their post, and nightly took turns
in guarding the house against any attack from the guerillas.
Toward Spring Bank Harney had a peculiar spite, and his threats of
violence had more than once reached the ears of Alice, who wisely kept
them from the nervous, timid Mrs. Worthington. At her instigation, Aunt
Eunice had left her home in the cornfield, and come to Spring Bank, so
that the little garrison numbered four white women, including crazy
Densie, and twelve negro servants.
As the storm grew blacker, it had seemed necessary for Colonel Tiffton
openly to avow his sentiments, and not "sneak between two fires, for
fear of being burned," as Harney wolfishly told him one day, taunting
him with being a "villainous Yankee," and hinting darkly of the
punishment preparing for all such.
The colonel was not cowardly, but as was natural he did lean to the
Confederacy. "Peaceful separation, if possible," was his creed; and
fully believing the South destined to triumph, he took that side at
last, greatly to the delight of his high-spirited Nell, who had been a
Rebel from the first. The inmates of Spring Bank, however, were not
forgotten by the colonel, and regularly each morning he rode over to see
if all were safe, sometimes sending there at night one or two of his own
field hands as body guard to Alice, whose courage and intrepidity in
defending her side of the question he greatly admired.