The Moravians in Georgia [60]
of butter and sugar was exhausted. Dried ham and tongue had a tendency to increase their thirst, but by soaking tea in cold water they made a beverage which bore at least a fancied resemblance to that brewed on shore. Then the supply of water ran low, each man's allowance was reduced to a pint a day, and even this small amount would have failed had they not been able occasionally to catch rainwater to replenish their casks. The Captain at last opened a keg of beer found in his cargo, and sold his passengers enough to relieve their thirst, for which they were very grateful.
But unkind words, delay, uncooked food, thirst, were not all that Spangenberg and his companion had to bear, for actual danger was added to their experience from time to time. High waves broke over the ship, winds tore away the sails, and a water-spout threatened total destruction. So late was the ship in reaching port that she was given up for lost, and word was sent to Pennsylvania which caused much grief, -- needless grief, for Spangenberg's days of service were not to be ended thus. It sounds almost trivial to say that in the midst of trials of body, mind and soul Spangenberg occupied himself with making buttons, but no doubt the homely, useful labor did its part toward rendering endurable the seemingly endless days.
At last, on the 7th of August, the ship ran on a sandbank near Tybee, and the Moravians, hearing that Spangenberg was on board, took a boat and brought him to Savannah. They had asked him to go to England, he had disregarded their request and come to Georgia, but he was dear to them through many months of united service and mutual help, and they gave him a hearty welcome, ignoring all cause for complaint, and taking him at once into their full confidence. He and Toeltschig sat up all of the first night carefully discussing the condition of affairs and what could be done to remedy them. Their views were very different, for Spangenberg thought they had been too hasty in deciding to leave Georgia, while Toeltschig felt that it was a reflection on the lot to try and hold them in Savannah, when the lot had said "go". But Toeltschig possessed the rare art of seeing a disputed question through the eyes of those who did not agree with him, as well as from his own standpoint, and now, with no petty self-assertion, he quietly awaited developments, and told Spangenberg all that had happened since Neisser's departure.
As the alarm concerning an immediate invasion by the Spanish had died away, the inhabitants of Savannah had regained their composure, and the wild outcry against the Moravians gradually ceased. The wagon and oxen which had been taken for work on the fort had been returned to their owners, after seven or eight weeks of hard usage, and the hope that starvation would shake the resolution of the non-combatants had signally failed of fulfillment. The ship which was to bring the town supplies had been twelve weeks late in coming, and the stock in the store-house was almost exhausted. The authorities therefore had announced that provisions would be sold only to those who were helping build the fort. This entirely excluded the Moravians, but instead of suffering from hunger they had been able to share with some of their neighbors. The prices charged at the store in Savannah were always high, so, as he was passing through New York on his return from St. Thomas, Spangenberg had asked a friend to send the Moravians two thousand pounds of flour and salt-meat, for which they were to pay. The merchant at that time knew of no ship sailing for Savannah, so in Philadelphia, Spangenberg had arranged that two thousand pounds of meat should be sent from there at once on a year's credit. Meanwhile the New York merchant found an opportunity to send what was ordered from him, so the Moravians had been surprised by a double quantity, which proved to be just what they needed during the general scarcity. When the friends in Pennsylvania heard that provisions had been sent, but not enough to last until the next harvest, they gave thirty-six
But unkind words, delay, uncooked food, thirst, were not all that Spangenberg and his companion had to bear, for actual danger was added to their experience from time to time. High waves broke over the ship, winds tore away the sails, and a water-spout threatened total destruction. So late was the ship in reaching port that she was given up for lost, and word was sent to Pennsylvania which caused much grief, -- needless grief, for Spangenberg's days of service were not to be ended thus. It sounds almost trivial to say that in the midst of trials of body, mind and soul Spangenberg occupied himself with making buttons, but no doubt the homely, useful labor did its part toward rendering endurable the seemingly endless days.
At last, on the 7th of August, the ship ran on a sandbank near Tybee, and the Moravians, hearing that Spangenberg was on board, took a boat and brought him to Savannah. They had asked him to go to England, he had disregarded their request and come to Georgia, but he was dear to them through many months of united service and mutual help, and they gave him a hearty welcome, ignoring all cause for complaint, and taking him at once into their full confidence. He and Toeltschig sat up all of the first night carefully discussing the condition of affairs and what could be done to remedy them. Their views were very different, for Spangenberg thought they had been too hasty in deciding to leave Georgia, while Toeltschig felt that it was a reflection on the lot to try and hold them in Savannah, when the lot had said "go". But Toeltschig possessed the rare art of seeing a disputed question through the eyes of those who did not agree with him, as well as from his own standpoint, and now, with no petty self-assertion, he quietly awaited developments, and told Spangenberg all that had happened since Neisser's departure.
As the alarm concerning an immediate invasion by the Spanish had died away, the inhabitants of Savannah had regained their composure, and the wild outcry against the Moravians gradually ceased. The wagon and oxen which had been taken for work on the fort had been returned to their owners, after seven or eight weeks of hard usage, and the hope that starvation would shake the resolution of the non-combatants had signally failed of fulfillment. The ship which was to bring the town supplies had been twelve weeks late in coming, and the stock in the store-house was almost exhausted. The authorities therefore had announced that provisions would be sold only to those who were helping build the fort. This entirely excluded the Moravians, but instead of suffering from hunger they had been able to share with some of their neighbors. The prices charged at the store in Savannah were always high, so, as he was passing through New York on his return from St. Thomas, Spangenberg had asked a friend to send the Moravians two thousand pounds of flour and salt-meat, for which they were to pay. The merchant at that time knew of no ship sailing for Savannah, so in Philadelphia, Spangenberg had arranged that two thousand pounds of meat should be sent from there at once on a year's credit. Meanwhile the New York merchant found an opportunity to send what was ordered from him, so the Moravians had been surprised by a double quantity, which proved to be just what they needed during the general scarcity. When the friends in Pennsylvania heard that provisions had been sent, but not enough to last until the next harvest, they gave thirty-six