Diary of Emma Florence LeConte

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The past three days are more like three weeks. And yet when they are gone we may be worse off with the whole country laid waste and the railroads out in every direction. Starvation seems to stare us in the face. Our two families have between them a few bushels of corn and a little musty flour. We have no meat, but the negroes give us a little bacon every day.



8 p.m. - There has been no firing as yet. All is comparatively quiet. These buildings are surrounded by a heavy guard, and we are told they are distributed throughout the city. All day the devils have been completing their work of plunder, but in the hospital here we have been exempt from this. When I remember how blest we have been I cannot be too thankful. We have the promise of a quiet night but I dare not trust our hopes - there is no telling what diabolical intentions they may have. O if they were only gone! - even to the last straggler! What a load would be lifted from our hearts. We are anxious to learn the fate of our friends, but the little we can gather (except from Aunt Josie and Mrs. Green) is through the negroes, and ours scarcely dare venture uptown. The Yankees plunder the negroes as well as the whites, and I think they are becoming somewhat disgusted with their friends. Although the servants seem quite willing, it is difficult to get any work out of them on account of the wild excitement. Ah, the dreadful excitement - I seem to stand it very well, but it seems to me we must all be ill when it is over. Anxiety, distress, want of rest and food must tell upon us. Mrs. Wilson (Mr. Shand's daughter) with a babe one week old was moved last night from her father's burning house. The Burroughs escaped with only the clothing they wore. Many, many fared similarly. Some tried to save a little food - even this was torn from their hands. I have heard a number of distressing incidents but have not time to write them down. O, the sorrow and misery of this unhappy town! From what I can hear their chief aim, while taunting helpless women, has been Page 37



to "humble their pride" - "Southern pride". "Where now", they would say "is all your pride - see what we have brought you to" - "This is what you get for setting yourselves up as better than other folks". The women acted with quiet dignity and refused to lower themselves by any retort. Someone told me the following. Some soldiers were pillaging the house of a lady. One asked her if they had not humbled her pride now - "No indeed" she said, "Nor can you ever". "You fear us anyway" - "No" she said. "By G-, but you shall fear me", and he cocked his pistol and put it to her head - "Are you afraid now?" She folded her arms and looking him steadily in the eye said contemptuously, "no". He dropped his pistol, and with an exclamation of admiration, left her.

Sunday, Feb. 19th.
- The day has passed quietly as regards the Yankees. About eleven o'clock last night as everything seemed quiet and Henry intended to sit up, I thought I would follow mother's example and get some rest. So without taking off my clothes - only loosening them - I lay down and slept soundly all night. I woke at seven much refreshed. Sallie in a few moments opened her eyes and said, "O mother, is it already day? I am so glad - I thought the light in the window was the reflection from a fire". I rose, took off my clothes for the first time in three days, and after bathing and putting on clean clothes felt like another being. This morning fresh trouble awaited us. We thought the negroes were going to leave us. While we were on the back piazza Mary Ann came to us weeping and saying she feared the Yankees were going to force Henry to go off with them, and of course she would have to go with her husband. He did not want to go and would not unless forced. She seemed greatly distressed at the thought of leaving the master and mistress who had supplied the place of father and mother to her, an orphan. The others, Maria and her children, want to go I think. They have been dressed in their Sundays best all day. Mary Ann when she came to get dinner said she could cook two more meals for us anyway. Mother went over to Aunt Josie's to consult her . She advised Page 38



that, if they left, mother should get Dr. Thomson to put some sick men in our house to protect it, and we must all move over there as she has two white servants. On her return however she talked to Henry, who vows he will never leave us unless dragged away, and he thinks he can avoid them. They are free however at present and we ask as little as possible of them - such as cooking our little food and bringing water from the well. The water-works being destroyed we have to get water from the Campus well. If Jane offers to clean up our room, all very well - if not, we do it ourselves. This afternoon I washed the dinner things and put the room to rights. The house is untouched except this one room we live in which I manage to keep neat and clean. This is my first experience in work of this kind and I find it is better than doing nothing. The negroes, when we ask, however seem quite willing and have given us not the slightest impertinence. While mother was at Aunt Josie's I took Carrie up in the drawing room to amuse her. While we stood by the front window the house was shaken by a terrible explosion. As the gas works were burning at the time, I concluded it was the gasometer, but remembering we had had no gas for two or three days that seemed impossible. Henry has just explained it. Our men had buried a number of shells near the river - an attempt was made to excavate them and one going off accidentally exploded the rest, killing wounding a great many Yankees. How I rejoice to think of any of them being killed. Dr. Bell says about 200 were burnt up Friday night - drunk perhaps - if only the whole army could have been roasted alive!

The provost guard is encamped opposite the Campus. It consists of one battalion and is to remain until the last straggler leaves town. Two of the officers went to Aunt Josie's and saying they wished quarters opposite their camp - she was obliged to accommodate them and give up her library for their use. Their horrid old gridiron of a flag is flaunting its bars in our faces all day. Ever since dark thick clouds of smoke have been rolling up from the arsenal and I fear the flames will spread over the hill. Mary Ann came to see us Page 39

in great distress this afternoon to tell us that a Yankee had sworn to her that these buildings should be burned tonight. Enquiring of an officer, mother was assured there was no danger - I suppose it was only a drunken threat. Mother looked over the town this morning from Aunt Josie's attic window. She described a scene of fearful desolation. Here all is hidden from us. When they are gone I will walk out of the Campus and see it all - yet how I dread it! Poor Columbia! Sometimes I try to picture it to myself as it now is, but I cannot. I always see the leafy streets and lovely gardens - the familiar houses. I cannot imagine the ruins and ashes to save my life. How I hate the people who have done this! A few moments ago there was a violent ring the the bell. I was the only person awake, and I roused Jane up and sent her upstairs. It was some Yankee officers who wished to know where Mayor Goodwyn lived. Sherman it seems wished to appoint a meeting with him in order to leave arms for the citizens to protect them from stragglers.

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Monday Feb. 20th
- Quite early this morning a Yankee entered the yard looking for Henry, who forthwith locked himself in his room. Mother went out and asked the mean filthy devil if he wished to make Henry go against his will. He hesitated a little, and said "no", but he wished to see him. The soldier - the dirtiest, meanest looking creature imaginable - told mother, when she threatened to send for the guard if he did not leave, that he was one of the guard himself. "Well" said mother "there are two officers at my sister's house and I will send to them". The Yankee turned and left the yard. Mrs. Bell tells us that Sherman turned loose upon us a brigade that he had never allowed to enter any other city on account of their desperate and villainous character. And yet they talk now of being ashamed of what followed, and try to lay it on the whiskey they found! Shortly after breakfast - O joyful sight - the two corps encamped behind the Campus back of us marched by with all their immense wagon trains on their way from Columbia. They tell us all will be gone by tomorrow evening. O that we were completely rid of them! and that father were with us. Page 40



I might then know what it is to feel happy one moment. Under other cir****tances it would have been a wonderful sight to see this great army with its endless trains march by. With the memory of Friday night burned in it was hard to look at them.

A great drove of lean ill-looking cattle was driven into the Campus today - our two cows have not been taken from us. Neither the Roman Catholic, Trinity (Episcopal) or Presbyterian Churches were burnt. It was a miracle the latter was saved - everything around it was destroyed. In Trinity churchyard soldiers were encamped. Of course there was no Service in any of the churches yesterday - no Church bells ringing - the Yankees riding up and down the streets - the provost guard putting up their camp - there was nothing to suggest Sunday. What balmy, delicious weather we have had for three days past - most fortunate it is or there would have been even more suffering. Henry has already cut down two trees in the yard to give us fuel. ***** Mother has just this moment returned from Aunt Josie's bringing the news that the last of the army is leaving the city. The provost guard has broken up camp also. This leaves the terror of stragglers before us - we expected the guard would remain a day or two. There is no knowing what outrages may be committed. Mother is going to try to get Mr. Thomson to stay here at night. She wants to send me to Aunt Josie's but I will not leave her alone. We must trust to Henry's protection.

Tuesday 21st.
- The night with its fear of stragglers is past and we may breathe more freely but not less sadly. The destruction and desolation around us which we could not feel while under such excitement and fear now exerts its full sway. Sad? - The very air is fraught with sadness and silence. The few noises that break the stillness seem melancholy and the sun does not seem to shine as brightly, seeming to be dimmed by the sight of so much misery. I was at Aunt Josie's this morning and there learned for the first time the extent of suffering. O God! When we think of what we have escaped and how almost miraculously we Page 41



have been saved we should never rise from our knees. There is not a house I believe in Columbia that has not been pillaged - those that the flames spared were entered by brutal soldiery and everything wantonly destroyed. The streets were filled with terrified women and children who were offered every insult and indignity short of personal outrage - they were allowed to save nothing but what clothes they wore, and there is now great suffering for food. It would be impossible to describe or even to conceive the pandemonium and horror. There is no shadow of doubt that the town was burned by Sherman's order. All through Georgia, it is said, he promised his men full license in South Carolina. The signals both for firing and ceasing were given - the soldiers were provided with the materials for the work - and yet I hear that he already denies it and tries to put the responsibility on Gen. Hampton. At one time Friday night, when Aunt Josie's house and other buildings were taking fire, the College buildings were given up and the poor wounded soldiers who could not be moved resigned themselves to death.

Dr. Carter says it was a touching sight to see the poor fellows trying manfully to nerve themselves to meet their fate. And there was the regiment ostensible sent to extinguish the fire, calmly looking on without raising a finger, and the patriots on the streets themselves applying the torch. The hospital was saved by one Yankee Captain and two men - yet it contained many of their own wounded soldiers. The unfinished granite State house was not blown up because they were short of powder and it is unroofed. All that could be destroyed was ruined by the burning of the work-sheds - fine carving, capitals, columns, ornamental work etc., I can hardly help feeling that our total exemption from insult and plunder was due in some way to the influence of the strange man who called himself Davis and promised us protection. Why in many houses the very guards stationed to protect helped the soldiers in smashing and destroying. It is sickening to listen to the tale of distress, much more to try to Page 42

write of it. A heavy curse has fallen on this town - from a beautiful bustling city it is turned into a desert.

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How desolate and dreary we feel - how completely cut off from the world. No longer the shrill whistle of engine - no daily mail - the morning brings no paper with news from outside - there are no lights - no going to and fro. It is as if a city in the midst of business and activity were suddenly smitten with some appalling curse. One feels awed if by chance the dreary stillness is broken by a laugh or too loud a voice. How unhappy poor father and Uncle John - Julian and Cousin Johnny will be when they hear of this. There has even been a report afloat that Aunt Josie's house was burned and Cousin Lula perished in the flames - if they should hear that!



I wonder if the vengeance of heaven will not pursue such fiends! Before they came here I thought I hated them as much as was possible - now I know there are no limits to the feeling of hatred.

Wed. Feb. 22nd.
- I meant last night to write down some description of what I had seen, but was too wretchedly depressed and miserable to even think of it. This morning we have heard that he is safe and I can take up my journal again. Yesterday afternoon we walked all over the town in company with Miss Ellen LaBordo - Yes, I have seen it all - I have seen the "Abomination of Desolation". It is even worse than I thought. The place is literally in ruins. The entire heart of the city is in ashes - only the outer edges remain. On the whole length of Sumter Street not one house beyond the first block after the Campus is standing, except the brick house of Mr. Mordecai. Standing in the centre of the town, as far as the eye can reach nothing is to be seen but heaps of rubbish, tall dreary chimneys and shattered brick walls, while "In the hollow windows, dreary horror's sitting". Poor old Columbia - where is all her beauty - so admired by strangers - so loved by her children! She can only excite the pity of the former and the tears of the latter. I hear several Yankee officers remarked to some citizens on the loveliness of their town as Page 43



they first saw it by sunrise across the river.

Blanding Street, crossing Main and Sumter at right angles, the finest street in town, is also a sad picture. The Preston house with its whole square of beautiful gardens escaped. It was Gen. Logan's headquarters. The Crawford house - the Bryce's - the Howe's and one or two others also escaped. All nearer Main Street were burned. The Clarkson house is a heap of brick with most of its tall columns standing, blackened by the smoke. Bedell's lovely little house is in ruins while as if in mockery the shrubbery is not even scorched - But I cannot particularize - with very few exceptions all our friends are homeless. We enter Main Street - since the war in crowd and bustle it has rivalled a city thoroughfare - what desolation! Everything has vanished as by enchantment - stores, merchants, customers - all the eager faces gone - only three or four dismal looking people to be seen picking their way over heaps of rubbish, brick and timbers. The wind moans among the bleak chimneys and whistles through the gaping windows of some hotel or warehouse. The market a ruined shell supported by crumbling arches - its spire fallen in and with it the old town clock whose familiar stroke we miss so much. After trying to distinguish localities and hunting for familiar buildings we turned to Arsenal Hill. Here things looked more natural. The Arsenal was destroyed but comparatively few dwellings. Also the Park and its surroundings looked familiar. As we passed the old State house going back I paused to gaze on the ruins - only the foundations and chimneys - and to recall the brilliant scene enacted there one short month ago. And I compared that scene with its beauty, gayety and festivity - the halls so elaborately decorated - the surging throng - with this. I reached home sad at heart and full of all I had seen. Presently we heard a commotion in the yard. Running out on the back verandah we saw, standing in the middle of the yard, Sandy and the boys and the negroes who had remained grouped around them. As soon as they saw us Annie screamed! "The Yankees has caught 'em. Mass Johnny's come back Page 44



and Master's took prisoner." Asking Sandy about father, he said that he and Capt. Green were in the woods when the party was captured - we could learn nothing succinct from him, and all tired as we were, rushed over to see Johnny. We found him in the kitchen with Cousin Lula and the two white servants - all the rest were out. Johnny gave us a description of their capture. The Yankees they fell in with treated them kindly and he thought Uncle John would soon be paroled. He thought father must have been captured, as the woods were alive with Yankees - he did not see how they could escape, and he feared he would fare worse for trying to escape. And even if he did escape the country had been so entirely swept that he could get nothing to eat. Father and Capt. Green were out scouting when the wagons were taken. As Johnny started home yesterday and had seen father last on Sunday morning, there seemed little grounds to hope that he had not been taken. Yet if I had been certain of his capture it would have been less dreadful than the thought of his hiding in the woods cold and hungry and the possibility of being shot. It was dreadful - everything was burst open - all our silver and valuables stolen - articles of clothing slashed up by bayonets and burned, with father's valuable books carried off for safety, and all our table linen and bedding, blankets etc.. But we did not once think of these things in the great anxiety and distress about father. Then Aunt Josie and Aunt Jane, Mrs. Green and Cousin Ada came in. Cousin Lula went to break the news. Aunt Josie was quite overcome - she and mother wept together, Aunt Jane trying to comfort them. I drew back in the shadow of the staircase - it seemed as if my heart would break, and I cried by myself till Cousin Ada turning said "poor Emma" and put her arms around me. It was dark and we had to go home. I rushed upstairs to my room and threw myself down beside the bed - my heart was bursting - one horrible picture always before my eyes. This morning mother learned from Moultrie Gibbes that father is safe. He saw him at a house 18 miles from Columbia. It is impossible to tell of the relief after such suspense. I feel so thankful. We learned from Sandy Page 45

that the negroes at the nitre plantation, who were along, have taken possession of and brought home some of our things.

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Mother and Aunt Josie went to Capt. Stanley of the provost guard and he has promised to institute a thorough search for them. But how could we guess that our house would not be treated like the rest. Luckily we did not send off our summer clothing. Sandy says they dived immediately into the box of wine and told him to tell his mistress they were much obliged, as they swallowed hock and champagne.



Henry says one mill has been spared and we can get corn ground. The negroes are flocking in from the devastated country to be fed. Mayor Goodwyn has ordered them to be sent back, as the town is threatened with starvation. Indeed I do not know what will become of us unless relief comes in, from Edgefield or Augusta. In every other direction we understand the country is a desert - Orangeburg, Winnsboro', Chester, Camden - all in ashes. Incarnate fiends! And Sherman! - "O for a tongue to curse the slave."

February 23rd
The days are now as monotonous as possible. I do not leave the house. Yesterday, except the portion spent in writing this record, was spent in wandering aimlessly about the house or sitting listless in the sun. This morning I felt I must not be so idle. I tried to read a volume of Mad de Stael "De la Literature" - it was impossible. I tried something lighter - one of Dickens. I soon found I did not know what I was reading. I thought of commencing a pair of gloves I have been meaning to make for father - the very thought seemed to make me weary. I suppose it is the reaction from the frightful strain and nervous tension - the violent excitement. And then the uncertainty of the future - what is to become of us. If father would only come home - if we could only leave this desolate place. Sometimes I feel a restless impatience to know what is going on in the world from which we are cut off, and I feel at times an entire and apathetic indifference as to what should transpire. Page 46



Mother saw Mr. Gibbes yesterday herself. He said he was passing a house and hearing some Confederate officers were within he desired to see them. Whereupon father and Capt. Green made their appearance at the door, the former with a cup of coffee in his hand. At that time he was expecting to make his way to Winnsboro, but Mr. G. told him the Yankees were gone in that direction and advised him to remain where he was until he heard from Columbia. I looked for him last night and sometimes I fear he may have been caught by Kilpatrick's raiders, but I think I have no reasonable ground for such a fear. There is nothing to do but try to be patient. Patience! How the heavy days creep by! O to see our dear father again after all that has been gone through and suffered since we parted. Dr. Carter left for Augusta this morning and we sent letters by him to Georgia. I wrote a few pages to cousin Ella - would have written to Cousin Annie but do not know where she is. Mother wrote to Grandmother - I hope the letters will be legible enough when they reach their destination to relieve anxiety. There is not one drop of ink in the house and for ten days I have written this diary in pencil. I wish I could get letters.

Sallie has commenced studying and will recite her lessons to me tomorrow. I cannot summon energy or interest to go back to my own studies. That must not be until, anxiety banished, we are re-united and settled down in quiet. When will that be! The Yankees talk very strongly of conquering the South immediately - if so our day of rest is far off. Somehow I am still as confident as I ever was. If only our people will be steadfast. The more we suffer the more we should be willing to undergo rather than submit. Somehow I cannot feel we can be conquered. We have lost everything, but if everything - negroes, property - all could be given back a hundredfold I would not be willing to go back to them. I would rather endure any poverty than live under Yankee rule. I would rather far have France or any other country for a mistress - anything but live as one nation with Yankees - that word in my mind is a synonym for all that is mean, Page 47

despicable and abhorrent. I hope relief will come before famine actually threatens. We have to cut our rations as short as possible to try to make the food hold out till succor comes. Father left us with some mouldy spoiled flour that was turned over to him by the Bureau. We can only possible eat it made into battercakes and then it is horrid. We draw rations from the town every day - a tiny bit of rancid salt pork and a pint of meal. We have the battercakes for breakfast, the bit of meat and cornbread for dinner - no supper. We fare better than some because we have the cows. Mother had peas to feed them, and sometimes we take a few of those from them to vary our diet. Today as a great treat mother gave us boiled rice for dinner - some the negroes had brought us in the pillage of the stores. We enjoyed it immensely - the first I have tasted in many days.

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Sunday night. Feb. 26th
- At last I have something joyful to chronicle - Father is returned! Friday evening as we all sat in the library there was a knocking at the door - then a violent ring at the bell - we knew what it meant. I rushed to the door first and opened it to fall in father's arms. What a scene! Embraces, kisses, weeping - he was wet through and in rags. We hurried him to the fire and listened to the story of his escape - an escape that seemed little short of miraculous. - I am so thankful and happy every moment that I remember he is safe at home.

Father describes Sherman's track up there as the same it was in the lower part of the State - desolation and ruin. Every night the entire horizon was illuminated by burning houses! Poor Carolina! And the burning of Columbia was the most diabolical act of all the barbarous war. Father grits his teeth every time he sees the ruins or speaks of the horrors of that night. As far as I can see the people are undemoralized and more - determined than ever. The Yankee officers while here they paid the tribute to the women of this State of saying they were the most firm, obstinate and ultra rebel set of Page 48



women they had encountered - if the men only prove equally so! Father and I went to church this morning. We had a mournful looking congregation. Dr. Howe officiated, reading the first Chapter of Lamentations. After Church we stopped at Aunt Josie's, who kindly lent us some table silver. All mother saved was three forks, two tablespoons and two teaspoons which she kept for our use.

Today is father's birthday.

Tuesday Feb. 28th
- I am now fairly launched as a school-maam. I fancy I get on pretty well considering my lack of experience. I teach Sallie arithmetic, Latin, spelling and elementary Natural Philosophy besides reading and composition. I will begin study myself when father returns from a trip down the river with Capt. Green to get provisions for the town in general and our two families in particular - they propose starting tomorrow.

Cousin Ada and I went to call on Mrs. Carroll yesterday but found she is not in town, having run away just before the advent of the Yankees! It is not far from her house to the cemetery so we went there to look at little Josie's grave. Coming home we walked down Main Street - slowly in the middle of the street for fear of falling walls, trying to conjure up the well-known shops and buildings from the shapeless heaps. At the market place we saw the old bell - "Secessia" - that had rung out every State as it seceded, lying half buried in the earth and reminding me of Retzsch's last Outline in "The Song of the Bell", showing "That all things earthly disappear."

We walked through the State-house yard and examined the marks of the shells in the new Capitol. Large pieces of granite are sometimes broken off. On one end alone we counted places where eight shells had struck and exploded. We have since heard that in the accidental explosion of the Charleston freight depot, from the igniting of powder strewn upon the floor, 150 or 200 people were killed.

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Wednesday March 1st.
The first day of Spring! A gloomy opening of the bright season. It is not cold, but dark and rainy. Father has been obliged to defer his trip on account of the weather and is waiting for a fair day. There was a rumor afloat yesterday that a negro regiment was marching from Branchville to garrison Columbia - Heavens - have we not suffered enough? I do not believe it but the very thought is enough to make one shudder. If father succeeds in laying in a supply of food we will probably remain here, unless father is ordered away.

Communication will soon be opened with Augusta and other towns and probably with Col. St. John. As long as we stay here we have the comforts of home and are among friends. Then if the Government works are moved back I might get some kind of employment.

March 2nd
- It still continues damp and cloudy with no immediate prospect of a favourable change. I have not gone back to study but feel heartily ashamed of myself for not doing so. I have resolved not to be idle any longer but to go back to my books and take up again some solid reading I had planned before all this excitement. This afternoon father called me downstairs to help him rearrange the books. They had been packed in boxes before the Yankees came, for removal but father finding it impossible to take them off judged they would be safer in the cases as the soldiers would tumble them out in search of valuables, so just before he left he had Henry put them back. Of course he placed them on the shelves pell-mell without any regard to order. I had a good laugh today with Sallie. I mentioned in my account of the shelling of the town on Thursday that the man Davis brought me a box of feathers. I had laid them - away and did not think of them till today, when I came across them and we were looking over them selecting some that I thought would make a pretty fan. Near the bottom of the box Sallie spied a folded paper - a leaf from some note-book. She opened it. At the top of the page was a rude drawing of two hearts - this the note said, "portrayed two hearts surrounded by Page 50



rosebuds" (the rosebuds being entirely imaginary) "May they (continued the note) prove an emblem of our hearts, may they be joined by the golden links of friendship and may the rosebuds of life entwine them and though many hundred miles separate us may we be always firm friends." Well, if that individual is not a queer fish I never met one. He was pretty rough specimen, but if we owe anything to his kindness of heart, I ought not to be too hard on his coarseness. Of course Sallie got a lot of fun out of it, showing it in high glee to father who was greatly amused - over it. The fellow had remarkably keen insight into character. The evening he talked with me after father was gone - he hit off his character wonderfully except in one or two points - remarkable considering how absolutely father differed from himself. He read both mother's and my character too. Mine, except for the flattery he threw in, was very correct also.

Tuesday March 7th.
- Last Friday (3rd) we received two pieces of good news. In the first place Dr. Pratt arrived with four wagons to our relief. Two hours after receiving father's letter he started. In that short time provisions were hastily collected and clothing for father, Uncle John and Capt. Green - father has been wearing a pair of blue trousers taken from a dead Yankee soldier at the hospital and given him by one of the doctors.

The officers of the Nitre Bureau contributed, throwing in shirts, collars, socks, etc., - When he got to Prof. Holmes in Edgefield that generous-hearted friend set to work and loaded up a wagon with bacon, corn, clothing, etc., and sent word we must all come to his home right away. Such friends in times like these of scarcity and selfishness are indeed to be appreciated. Dr. Pratt left so hurriedly that he did not even go home to bid his wife goodbye - only despatched her a note. He says no one in Augusta has the slightest conception of the desolation here - they suppose that only Main Street was burned, and that, the Yankees said, was done accidentally by our own soldiers in destroying cotton! As soon as the state of things was better understood contributions poured in. Our necessities are supplied for the present and we need not now draw rations from the town as we have been doing ever since the fire. Page 51



The mayor issues rations to 7000 people - all that is left of a population of about 30,000. The original population of 12,000 was enormously increased since the war by refugees and other sources.

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The other piece of good news was received last night - that Uncle John was paroled in Chester. Aunt Josie's joy was unbounded and her excitement brought on a severe attack of palpitation of the heart. Last evening she received a letter from him. He is within 27 miles of Columbia, but is waiting to get a conveyance. One of his feet is so sore from making a march of 50 miles with the Yankees that he cannot walk it. Chester was not burned. The Yankees did not go either there or to Yorkville. The greater part of Winnsboro' was destroyed and the whole of Lexington - in fact every town and village in their track. Dr. pratt stayed with us while here. Father giving up his expedition down the river, returned with him to Augusta yesterday to see what he could do about getting supplies from there. We expect him back in one or two days. We can hear nothing from our army. For the first time we are without the excitement of daily telegraphic news and I miss the breakfast-table discussions of the war news and the movements of the forces. We live in absolute ignorance while our fate is being decided, and speedy peace and long-continued war are trembling in the balance. At all events we miss perhaps a thousand unfounded and conflicting rumors. We are hoping for intervention, but that may mean humiliating concessions. If recognition meant the opening of our ports only that would be all we would ask. Once freely supplied with materials for war we would soon be independent. That is all we need.

Wednesday March 8th.
- Uncle John got home last night. It has been raining all day and I have not been to see him. He is confined to the house with his foot.

I am back at my books again and read a great deal. I do nothing else, except of course knitting which does not interfere at all with my reading. I have gone at old Gibbon again and mean to finish him. Page 52



Am also reading Hitchcock - especially in the metaphysical portions of the latter I need father so much. I hope he will not have to go off again. I do want to to get steadily and systematically at work again.

Friday March 10th.
- Today is the day of Fasting and prayer appointed by the president. It rained so hard all the morning however that none of us went to church. Even if the weather - were favorable I could not go as I am not at all well, nor have been for several days, but only began to feel like giving up yesterday. Nevertheless I went, in spite of threatening clouds, to see Uncle John in the afternoon. He had a hard time with the Yankees - was not allowed a blanket to sleep on - no fire, and had to march over a hundred miles with them. He saw one of his own negroes, Peter, on horseback while he was plodding on foot. On the whole though he looks very well and feels more like himself except for his foot. Aunt Josie was sick in bed. Uncle John said that while he was marching along a Yankee officer rode beside him and asked - "What will you Southerners do when we have marched victoriously through Virginia and taken Richmond?" - "I think Gen. Lee may have something to say to that", he replied - "you have him to meet yet." - "Well suppose we defeat and disperse his army?" - "I suppose then we will have to resort to Guerilla warfare." The officer looked surprised and shocked - "Why cannot you yield?" he asked. Uncle John shrugged his shoulders and said we would resort to anything rather than give up. "Well," replied the Yankee, "I hope the South won't do anything of that kind, for of course in that event we would not spare or respect your women."

March 11th.
- A Courier last night brought the news of the fall of Richmond - or at least its' evacuation. We have heard rumors to this effect for some time so we were in a measure prepared for it. It is so hard to believe. People talk about its being the best move - that now we will "catch" Sherman etc., etc., - it seems nonsense to me. The fact remains that our capital - the great bone of contention for which the Yankees have struggled in vain for four years - around which so many bloody battles have been fought, has fallen at last. I feel as if the end had Page 53

come, and utterly heartsick - and yet have become so accustomed to disaster that nothing overwhelms me, not even this. It only somewhat deepens the gloom. We can not be conquered - that is unthinkable - but there are bitter days, and we are passing through a dark cloud. Sherman marched through Georgia - Savannah fell - I thought he would be opposed here - the president promised to defend South Carolina - Sherman swept on unresisted, devasting, burning. He holds Charleston - has burned Columbia - left his whole track a smouldering desert. Now Richmond has fallen. Where is a ray of hope? Only to Gen. Lee and his poor little half-starved army can the people look - yet an army that has never suffered defeat - a contrast to the Western army.

[thea_447]

Sunday March 12th.
- It is a calm bright spring day - warm, balmy and quiet. The Campus is quite green with the springing grass and the tall elms are budding. The birds are singing again and as we walked home from Church this morning we gathered blue hyacinths and yellow daffodils from among the blackened ruins. Spring no longer looks gay and bright as it used to in the fair town buried in trees and gardens, and even where the foliage is not destroyed the bursting green will make a sad contrast with the melancholy ruins. In church this morning all looked so familiar - the congregation full, Dr. Palmer in his place again, choir and organ - that sitting there it was hard to realize all was so changed. Coming out the ruins all around struck afresh with strangeness and unreality. We have some 120 of Wheeler's cavalry here for a time, but they are going to leave. They were drawn up in the street this morning backs.

Yesterday morning I spent with Aunt Jane, who is thickly broken out with measles, more consequences of Walter's visit to us with them. In the afternoon I went to see Miss Jane and Miss Sophia Reynolds, and afterwards to Madame D'ovilliers'. Nothing was talked of but that dreadful night. Poor little Madame, how she did jabber in her broken English - I will try to look up my friends, but many left before the surrender and most of the rest are burnt out and I do not know Page 54



where to find them. Some (among them the Carrolls and Bauskets) went to Winnsboro' and met the Yankees there.

March 14th.
- Richmond has not fallen! Petersburg has been given up and Lee has drawn in his lines and sent 10,000 men to Johnston. Aunt Jane has heard from Cousin John. She has been very uneasy about him, for when he came that fatal Friday to tell her goodbye the Yankees were only two blocks behind him, at the State house. He barely escaped by the fleetness of his horse but had to ride 25 miles through a deserted country to join his command and thinks he would have starved but for the large lunch Aunt Josie stuffed in his haversack as he left. Aunt Josie tried to look up some of our lost clothing. The authorities have taken everything stolen by the negroes or given them by the Yankees and exposed them in some building for identification by owners. Hearing that many articles were taken from the Nitre Bureau negroes, Aunt Josie went forth with high hopes, but all she recovered was a portion of one of her dresses and the flounce of my green embroidered silk. She and Cousin Lula lost even more heavily than mother and I in clothing, for we only sent off our best things but they sent everything except two winter dresses apiece and hardly a change of underclothing, and not an article to begin Summer with. Our underclothing was all of homespun and our stockings home-knit, so we kept them. The silk dresses so carefully treasured during the war are entirely irreplaceable. Aunt Josie and Cousin Lula lost 24 before them. How are we to get clothes? - when even calico is from $25 to $30 a yard - There is a report in town that Sherman has been killed, but that is far too good to be true. Another report is that Hampton fell in with part of his wagon train and captured - the citizens who left Columbia with Sherman's army and recovered much silver stolen here. The Yankees said they had not anywhere met with such quantities of plate and valuables and plunder as they found in Columbia - that it seemed the richest place they had struck. They told the people of Cheraw (which was also burned) that they had treated Columbia worse than they should have done, but Sherman Page 55



told them when they crossed the river that he would not restrain them, but gave them license to sack, pillage and burn the "Capital of Secession" as they chose. (Several pages missing) Saturday March 18th.
- We are looking for father home now - we expected him yesterday or today. At last we have received some tidings from Charleston. Some people unable any longer to endure the state of things they have found their way on foot to Columbia. The reign of terror they describe is unperalled even in this barberous war. The city is garrisoned by negro troops who, unrestrained, perpetrate every barbarity, until at length their outrages reached such a pitch that their officers were obliged to some extent to interfere - 30 men were shot for violating women. In the surrounding country affairs are even worse than in the city - the slaves turned loose and wildest anarchy reigns. When some of Foster's negro troops arrived in Georgetown the same excesses were begun there. A Mr. Middleton, 80 years old, was ordered by ruffians to leave his house. He was alone, the family being here, - he deprecated their cruelty urging that he was old and had never taken any part in the war. They said they knew he was darned old rebel, and ordered him to get out. He begged for a little time to move some effects - this being refused he went to his room, put a few clothes in a pillowcase and taking a blanket from his bed, left the house. The negroes took his blanket from him. He watched his burning house till it was consumed and then, taking the road to Columbia, walked the entire distance from Georgetown, reaching this place a day or two ago. The people are fearing that a negro garrison may be sent here. If such fears should be realized we must leave if we have to walk to Augusta. It is rumored that the Yankee gunboats are coming the river to complete their work of destruction of Columbia by blowing up the State house. We hear so many wild and dreadful rumors. Mrs. Bird passed through yesterday on her way from Richmond to Augusta. She says the deepest despondency prevails there on account of the giving up of Charleston and Columbia and the expectation that Richmond will share the same fate.

[thea_447]

Charlotte

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still holds out. We know almost nothing - the only reliable news from couriers and they come so rarely. It is wonderful the avidity with which every scrap of news or even rumor from the outer world is seized upon in this forlorn town. Mr. Pope has just got in. He says he only escaped by passing himself off as a preacher, and was several times told by the Yankees that they had caught tax-collector Pope. Most of them spoke exultingly of having burned Columbia - one only expressed regret because "it was such a pretty town". On his inquiring the cause of the conflagration, they at first repeated the story of the whiskey, but one fellow said frankly that he might as well tell the truth - that Sherman had ordered them to burn it - that they expected to burn it, and they did burn the the hole of secession. Mr. Pope says that they had not however expected to take it, for Beauregard had telegraphed Hardee to come to his aid, and that scoundrel paid no attention to the telegram. Mr. Pope says all the Yankees he talked with concurred in unqualified admiration for the pluck and dignity of the Columbia women. Through all the frightful night they did not see a tear or hear one complaint, and they did not think they could ever conquer the South if the men were animated by the same spirit as the women of South Carolina. Mr. Pope asked them if they thought to whip the South by marching through devastating the country, unopposed except by women and children. The Yankees replied that they did not expect to whip our armies, but meant to starve us out. "And can you do that?" he asked - the Yankee said, "sometimes I doubt it, " for everywhere we go we find such quantities of provisions. You Southerners have a rich country." Telegraphic communication will be opened with Richmond in a few days and then I hope Page 57



we will hear regularly from the armies in N. Carolina and Virginia and also what has become of Thomas. We are also soon to have a tri-weekly paper edited by Gilmer Sims and call "The Phoenix"! I had saved almost a regular file of daily papers from 1862, but in the confusion of the fire they were emptied out of the trunk, scattered and destroyed.

Mother tried to persuade me to go with her to the depot, but I had no wish to see the dreadful sight. The ruins are filled with the bones of the unfortunates who perished in the explosion, and their mangled remains are scattered around. The gas works too are destroyed beyond repair. When father comes back I think I will walk down to Granby and see the battle field, though there is little to be seen I suppose beyond the breastworks and earth torn up and trees cut by cannon balls. The last news from Johnston was that he had retreated to Raleigh. This arch-retreater will probably retreat till perhaps he retreats to Gen. Lee who may put a stop to his retrograde movement. -

April 1st.
- Since my last entry on the 18th many events of importance have transpired. About ten days ago father returned from Augusta bringing provisions, cloth, leather and tallow to make some candles - thus far we have had nothing but pine firelight after dark. The provisions were flour, corn and bacon - a few hams, but chiefly the sides. I am so sick of bacon - it seems impossible for me to eat it. It seems as if I ought to when father and the rest can eat it and think it good, but indeed my stomach turns against it and I usually make my dinner of hominy, corn bread and butter. The cloth is six bolts of factory cloth (unbleached homespun) which father on account of being a "Columbia sufferer" got it at the very low price of only three dollars a Page 58



yard. It makes me groan in spirit to think of wearing this heavy stuff as underclothing all the hot summer, but as Aunt Jane eagerly observes, "it is better than nothing". Indeed Cousin Ada and I agreed we would willingly wear sackcloth and even ashes if necessary, rather than give up to the Yankees. With all the ports closed we will be obliged to give up every foreign luxury, which are even now by their high prices beyond the reach of all but speculators. As I sat with Aunt Jane (sick with the measles) we laughingly arranged it all and found we could live very well on home products. Our clothing is already mostly of homespun. Our stockings we already knit, and we make our own gloves. Our hats we could plait from palmetto or grass and trim them in summer with natural flowers, in winter with holly berries and ivy. We have only a very few more things to learn in feminine dress. Father brought us some nice fine yarn, so much pleasanter to use than the coarse stuff I got at the factory here, and I am now knitting with it some beautiful stockings. It would seem very strange now to put on a pair of new store stockings. And I am such an accomplished knitter that I do not look at my work and so can read and study while I knit. My hands are rarely without my knitting except when otherwise employed, and this has been a great resource during the long evenings with the light but dim firelight. Father brought us also some coarse blankets. The tallow mother has moulded into candles. How we miss the gas! The evenings are so long and dismal by the light of a tallow candle. How unappreciated was this one luxury until we lost it. Mr. Stovall spent several days looking about the miserable wreck of Columbia. - We hear all sorts of vague rumors about Johnston defeating Sherman, but nothing Page 59

definite enough to pin a hope to.

[thea_447]

April 13th.
- Columbia was in quite a panic a few days ago. A Yankee raid was at Kingsville, and we feared it would shortly be here, but they turned off towards Camden. I heard a gentleman say he thought Columbia would be garrisoned this Summer as a headquarters for sending out raids into the upper part of the State. They say there has been a fearful battle in Virginia - the most fearful battle of the war - that Lee has lost 20,000 men and fallen back, while Grant has lost 50,000. We can ill afford to lostthat number of men. All looks so dark and gloomy. I do not despair as many do, but I feel very sad and bitter when I think of the condition of our dear country. The South will not give up - I can not think that - but I look forward to years of suffering and grief - years of desolation and bloodshed. They say Charlotte has fallen, Montgomery too and Selma - more than all, Richmond. All we have is those two armies, brave but outnumbered. If they are overthrown, then follows the wearing Guerilla fighting and all the atrocities and evils that come in its train. I suppose the Yankees are holding a great jubilee in Charleston today. Not long ago they had a most absurd procession described in glowing colours and celebrating the Death of Slavery - Abolitionists delivered addresses on the superiority of the black race over white - Adam and Eve were black so were Cain and Abel, but when the former slew his brother his great fright turned him white! Also, "As Christ died for the human race, so John Brown died for the negroes", etc., etc.. Today they intended raising their wretched flag over noble old Sumter and there was to be a great to-do and fuss. Poor old Sumter - dear old fort! What a degradation! This day four long years ago! - the joy - the excitement - how well I remember it. For weeks we had been in fever of Page 60



excitement. On the day the news came of the Fall of Sumter we were all sitting in the library at Uncle John's. The bell commenced to ring. At the first tap we knew the joyful tidings had come. Father and Uncle John made a dash for their hats - Jule and Johnny followed. We women ran trembling to the verandah - to the front gate, eagerly asking the news of passers-by. The whole town was in a joyful tumult. What could now rouse us from our dull apathy unless it were the certain news of an honourable peace. What changes - what a lifetime we have lived in the four years past! ****

I am studying German now and am working away at the grammar and translating Wilhelm Tell. I have long wanted to get a reading knowledge of this language and have eyed wistfully the sealed treasures of German literature in the library. So my pleasure can be conceived when Mrs. Leland offered to teach me in return for reading French with her. She and I have a conversation lasson of an hour and a half with Madame on Mondays and Thursdays at ten o'clock - on Wednesdays I read French with Mrs. Leland, and on Tuesdays and Fridays we have a German class, Mrs. Leland giving us generally two hours as she has much leisure. Indeed I would be sorry to leave Columbia and the libraries now with these nice plans on hand.

April 14th
- I am so thankful that Winter has gone finally and entirely. Cold weather means real suffering in many ways to us and bright Spring is doubly welcome. She did not come coquetting as last year, but as it were rushed into our arms. In the space of two weeks the trees burst into leaf, so rapidly that one could almost see them unfolding. By the first of April they were in full foliage. Those parts of town, like the campus, that were untouched by the fire are now lovely with the delicate green of Spring. Among the ruins one sees long avenues of burnt and blackened trees - now and then in mocking contrast one will stretch its leafy branches over a crumbling wall, and sometimes half or part of a tree has Page 61

struggled into leaf and the rest stands gaunt and bare. Christ Church was one of the last buildings burned. It makes a beautiful ruin, especially now when through the tall gothic windows and above the pointed walls one sees the waving foliage of Blanding Street. Here in the campus nothing mars the springtime beauty - it is lovely. I am sitting in the front door and the afternoon is deepening into twilight. The grass is fresh and green under the majestic elms whose wide-spreading sweeping branches, so black and fine, show out in relief against the tender green of the young leafage. The oaks too are all out, and so thick is the mass of verdure that from my bedroom windows I cannot see across to the Library building with its white columns. Just before - me on the green lawn beneath a great elm is pitched a tent or large fly under which are lying half-a-dozen soldiers. At a little distance two fires are burning and around them are grouped others busily engaged in preparing their evening meal. These men are just from Camden - "to them" as Goethe says, "the old story of the year is being repeated again." We are come again, thank God, to its most charming chapter. The violets and May flowers are its superscription and vignettes. It always makes a pleasant impression on us when we open at these pages of the book of life."

[thea_447]

We, father Cousin Ada and I, walked into the woods yesterday afternoon. We found the ground fairly carpeted with violets, phlox and other spring flowers. We gathered large bunches of them and sat a long time on the mosses of the Rocky Branch just where the water makes a mimic cataract over large rocks. I am always so happy when I get into the country.



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Saturday April16th.
Went out this morning to have our feet measured for shoes. Oliver's shop is a genuine phoenix risen from its ashes. He has built a frame building of two rooms around his old chimney. Coming back we passed through the State house yard, picking our way over piles of rubbish. On every side a wilderness of granite and marble. Piles on piles of white and Tennessee marble blocks, cracked, broken and smoke-begrimed. Many blocks are crumbling to pieces - even the granite slabs are cracked and scaling, from the heat of the burning workshops and sheds. Hundreds of sculptured capitals lie broken and defaced. In the midst rises the half-finished capital seeming to look mournfully down on the destruction that surrounds it. In a remote part of the grounds behind some granite blocks lie scattered the Chimes of St. Michael's - one quite destroyed, all cracked by the heat. Those historic bells, ten in number, considered the finest chime in the country. They were presented from the Mother country while South Carolina was a Colony. When Charles was taken by the British the bells were sent to England. After the Revolution some say they were returned, others that they were brought back - anyway they came back to Charleston and for eighty years played from St. Michael's tower. Two years ago, when bells were given to be moulded into cannon, they were sent here, either for that purpose or for safe keeping while Charleston was under fire. They were placed in a building on the State house grounds, and here they lie now. (Footnote added later - After the war these bells were sent to England and re-cast in the same foundry where they were originally made, and they now hang in St. Michael's steeple.)

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News came today that Camden was taken by the raiders, so there is some chance of getting our rice after all - (rice stored there belonging to the Nitre Bureau)

Gen. Lovell has been appointed to the command of the Department of South Carolina. I hope he will infuse some spirit into our people and defend us from Yankees. ****

*** Several pages are here missing - the journal is resumed about April 20th, after the news of Lee's surrender had been received, and after the fall of Richmond.

ca. April 20th.