Diary of Emma Florence LeConte

[thea_447]

NOTE:
Original transcript spellings and punctuation
have been preserved without changes.
Unclear passages marked in red color. A JOURNAL, KEPT BY
EMMA FLORENCE LeCONTE, FROM DEC. 31, 1864
TO AUG. 6, 1865, WRITTEN IN HER SEVENTEENTH YEAR
AND CONTAINING A DETAILED ACCOUNT OF THE
BURNING OF COLUMBIA, BY ONE WHO WAS AN
EYEWITNESS.



Transcript prepared by the Historical
Records Survey of the Works Progress
Administration, May, 1938.
Page 1





DIARY



Columbia South Carolina, Dec. 31st 1864.
The last day of the year - always a gloomy day - doubly so today. Dark leaden clouds cover the sky, and ceaseless pattering rain that has been falling all day. The air is chill and damp, and the morning wind fills one with melancholy. A fit conclusion for such a year - 'tis meet old year that thou should'st weep for the misfortunes thou hast brought our country! And what hope is there to brighten the new year that is coming up? Alas, I cannot look forward to the new year - "My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past". Yes, the year that is dying has brought us more trouble than any of the other three long dreary years of this fearful struggle. Georgia has been desolated. The resistless flood has swept through that state, leaving but a desert to mark its track. And now our hateful foes hold Savannah. Noble old Charleston is at last to be given up. They are preparing to hurl destruction upon the State they hate most of all, and Sherman the brute avows his intention of converting South Carolina into a wilderness. Not one house, he says, shall be left standing, and his licentious troops - whites and negroes - shall be turned loose to ravage and violate. All that is between us and our miserable fate is a handful of raw militia assembled near Branchville. And yet they may say there is a Providence who fights for those who are struggling for freedom - who are defending their homes, and all that is held dear! Yet these vandals - these fiends incarnate, are allowed to overrun our land! Oh my country! Will I live to see thee subjugated and enslaved by these Yankees - surely every man and woman will die first. On every side they threaten - Lee's noble army alone stands firm. Foreign nations look on our sufferings and will not help us. Our men are being killed off - boys of sixteen are conscripted. Speculators and extortioners are starving us. But is this a time to talk of submission? Now when the Yankees have deepened and Page 2



widened the breach by a thousand new atrocities? A sea rolls between them and us - a sea of blood. Smoking houses, outraged women, murdered fathers, brothers and husbands forbid such a union. Reunion! Great Heavens! How we hate them with the whole strength and depth of our souls!

I wonder if the new year is to bring us new miseries and sufferings. I am afraid so. We used to have bright anticipations of peace and happiness for the new year, but now I dare not look forward. Hope has fled, and in its place remains only a spirit of dogged sullen resistance.

Jan. 1st, 1865
What a bright new year! If only the sunshine be a presage of happier days! Cold but clear and sunny - such a contrast to yesterday's tears. With this bright sun shining on me I can't feel as mournful as I did yesterday. I will try to throw off the sad memories I was brooding over and hope for better things. I will try to forget my struggles and failures and disappointments and begin again with new resolutions. Oh, me! I haven't much confidence in my ability to keep them!

Yesterday we had a letter from my darling father. He was at Thomasville. He has been gone two weeks, and I suppose by this time he is at the Altamaha. The Gulf Road only runs thus far, and there he will have to stop and get word if possible to Aunt Jane, with Sallie, Cousin Ada and Cousin Annie to meet him. If that is impossible he will try to make his way through the lines to them. Though I never say anything about it, I feel uneasy in regard to father. The Yankees have been through Liberty County, burning and destroying, and I hear they have passed right through our plantations. Father says however that he has heard of no outrages committed. But how dreadfully they must have been frightened. And what is worse, if the provisions have been destroyed, they may be suffering. Page 3



The uncertainty is very horrible. But how accustomed we have grown to what is horrible!

We had a letter from Grandma too. She had left us to be with Aunt Sallie in her confinement. She gives a long account of her journey, performed mostly in Government waggons with Lee's men. Poor Aunt Sallie suffered dreadfully, and her babe was born dead - the result of the fright she experienced when the enemy passed through Milledgeville.

The old year did not die without bringing us one more piece of bad news. We heard yesterday that Gen. Price - old "Dad Price" - was dead. Misfortunes assail us on every side. The President however is quite well again. What a sinking of despair I had when I heard that he was dead.

Jan 2nd.
(This day's entry being filled with speculations on and arguments for and against the immo 2nd.
(This day's entry being filled with speculations on and arguments for and against the immortality of the soul etc., I therefore extract only a short entry made before going to bed)

Have just returned from Aunt Josie's, where we spent the evening in company with Capt. and Mrs. Green. We had a very pleasant evening and were regaled in honour of the new year, which yesterday being Sunday was celebrated today, with egg-nog, Confederate cake and pop-corn. Capt. Green of the Nitre Bureau is an odd sort of man, and his wife is awfully ugly. No more news today except that I heard that Jeff Davis said that he would defend Carolina at all hazards. I hope it is true, but I do not believe it.

Jan. 4th.
What a budget of bad news this morning! Four letters. One from father who writes from camp at Doctortown only fifteen miles from Halifax, but he cannot get there. He had sent word to Aunt Jane by some scouts to try to reach him with the girls, but how can they when every mule and horse has been taken - they could only walk, and that of course Page 4



would be impracticable. Father said the Yanks made a clean sweep of everything, and we have lost all our worldly possessions except the few negroes here. Perhaps Aunt Jane's family and Sallie are almost starving! Oh it is too dreadful to think of! A second letter from Aunt Ann in Baker County says that Will and Joe Henry (Quarterman) seeing the outrageous conduct of the Yankees in one of the upper counties, mounted and rode night and day to reach Liberty in time to beseech their mother and sisters to run anywhere rather than encounter such fiends. The house was surrounded - (so says report) - Willy was killed, Joe Henry mortally wounded, and Gus taken prisoner. Cousin Corinne's husband was found in the swamp. How I hope it is not true! Poor Aunt Harriet! She has so recently buried her husband and daughter. And oh, what are my feelings when I think of Aunt Jane, Annie and Ada and poor little Sallie! What fate may not have overtaken them, alone as they are upon the plantation! And father - I cannot bear to think of him. Every day I tremble with the fear that I may hear he is a prisoner or killed. Killed - Oh, no - God would not be so cruel as that - I could not think of that - my darling precious father, if you were only safe at home again! Grandma writes more dreadful accounts of outrages and horrors that happened in Milledgeville. Walter writes from the hospital in Charleston that he has been laid up with chills and fever as a consequence of the terrible march after the evacuation of Savannah. He has got transferred to our College hospital, and we expect to see him this evening. I am constantly thinking of the time when Columbia will be given up to the enemy. The horrible picture is constantly before my mind. They have promised to show no mercy in this State. Mother wants to send me off, but of course I would not leave her. I can only hope their conduct in a city will not be so shocking as it has been through the country. Yet no doubt the College buildings will be burned, with other public buildings, and we will at least Page 5



lose our home.

Jan. 6th.
A horrid day. Rain, rain, rain. I have been sitting over the fire knitting and reading. Mother sitting opposite with her knitting asked me such endless questions in regard to her stocking that I put down my book impatiently and am trying to write. I feel awfully cross and out of sorts, and can't at all understand how so simple an affair as knitting a stocking should appear an insoluble problem. Mother can't conquer the mystery of "turning the heel" - there it is again - "Emma, how many times did you say I must knit plain?". I think I shall put my pen down and run away - *** It was brighter this afternoon in spite of the angry clouds. The sun was setting as we finished dinner and I brought my book out on the piazza where the rosy clouds divided my attention with the pages, when mother came and asked me to take Carrie. I fear I did so ill-naturedly, but the little darling's laughing face and merry blue eyes soon put me in a better humor, and I raced up and down with her till Jane came, when I ran upstairs, brushed my hair and coming down again found the moonlight struggling through the clouds.

Jan. 10th.
What a day! The rain is sweeping down in torrents and the earth is flooded - not a living creature to be seen - not even a benighted soldier in the campus usually so alive with them. Nothing but the driving rain and rushing water. It is perfectly splendid! ***

Jan. 12th.
Last night Cousin Lula and Johnnie came over and we all - Mother, Mr. Memminger - son of father's old friend Col. Memminger, and who had been with us for quite a while before father left, and still seems like a member of the family - Walter, Cousin Lula and myself, gathered round the table and made "kiss verses" all the evening for our grand bazaar. As might be supposed there was lots of nonsense and laughing over our work - if I except Walter, who was as silent as usual. I do not know what is the matter with him, he Page 6



used to be so very talkative and now he is so gloomy - perhaps it is his health.

Troops have been passing through Columbia for some days and I feel a little safer, though if Joe Johnston is put in command we had as well pack up and prepare to run. He will certainly execute one of his "masterly retreats" from the coast back to Virginia, and leave us at Sherman's mercy. I hear that Sherman has drawn his troops back from South Carolina to Savannah. Some think this bodes ill for Gen. Hood, who is in Alabama or Mississippi or somewhere else, and may be caught in a trap between Sherman and Thomas. I hope not. Cousin Lula says they had a letter from Julian yesterday. He, who used to be such an ardent Georgian, is down on the State for behaving so shamefully. He says all his Company have abjured their State, and made a vow never to live in it, especially in Savannah. As for me, I am a South Carolinian. I have lived here almost since I can remember, and only wish I had been born here instead of in Georgia! That whole State is utterly demoralized, and ready to go back into the Union. Savannah has gone down on her knees, and humbly begged pardon of Father Abraham, gratefully acknowledging Sherman's clemency in burning and laying waste their State! Oh it is a crying shame, such poltronnery! *******************

Father writes that he will try to get them all out of Liberty County under a flag-of-truce. I wish he would make haste and come home - who can tell how soon communication may be cut off. *********************

Jan - (Between the 13th and 17th)
We have no more news from father this morning, indeed there are no mails. The late freshet has carried away the bridges over the Edisto. The Greenville road is so injured that it cannot be repaired under three weeks, an and worse still the Danville road upon which Lee depends for his supplies cannot Page 7



be used for ten days and he is short of provisions. The very elements conspire against us! Madame DeOvilliere is going to make us repeat our comedy that came off with so much eclat in the Fall. We rehearse this afternoon. Jan. 18th. (to be continued)

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Jan. 18th.
Well, our great bazaar opened last night, and such a jam! I was at the State house helping to arrange the tables until four o'clock so I was thoroughly tired. There are seven booths in the House (of Representatives) South Carolina, at the Speaker's desk, is the largest, and on either side are Texas, Tennessee, Virginia, Mississippi, Louisiana and Missouri. In the Senate are North Carolina, at the Desk, Arkansas, Georgia, Alabama and Florida. The tables or booths are tastefully draped with damask and lace curtains, and elaborately decorated with evergreens. To go in there one would scarce believe it was war times. The tables are loaded with fancy articles - brought through the blockade, or manufactured by the ladies. Everything to eat can be had if one can pay the price - cakes, jellies, creams, candies - every kind of sweets abound. A small slice of cake is two dollars - a spoonful of Charlotte Russe five dollars, and other things in proportion. Some beautiful imported wax dolls, not more than twelve inches high, raffled for five hundred dollars, and one very large doll I heard was to raffle for two thousand. "Why" as Uncle John says, "one could buy a live negro baby for that." How can people afford to buy toys at such a time as this! However I suppose speculators can. A small sized cake at the Tennessee table sold for seventy-five dollars.

The bazaar will continue until Saturday. They had intended holding it for two weeks, but Sherman's proximity forces them to hurry up. I heard, but it is only one of Mr. Johnston's stories, that the aforesaid individual Page 8



had announced his intention of attending the Ladies' Bazaar in person before it closes. The railroads are so broken up that we can hear nothing definite, but report says that Sherman is marching one column on Augusta and one on Branchville. One piece of bad news is certain, namely that Fort Fisher has fallen at last. I had expected to take great interest in the Soldier's Bazaar, but I cannot. It seems like the dance of Death, and who can tell that Sherman may not get the money that was made instead of our sick soldiers. How long before our beautiful little city may be sacked and laid in ashes. Dear Columbia, with its lovely trees and gardens. It is heart-sickening to think of it. Grandpa wants to leave for Georgia as soon as the trains run through, which will be on Friday, and he wants to take me with him but I think mother and I had better stay or run together. We are going to pack up father's books and as many things as we can and get those of our friends who remain to take care of them as almost any house in the town will be safer than these buildings, then perhaps we may run with Uncle John's family to whatever point he moves the Nitre Bureau works. Oh it is so dreadful, and yet how callous our hearts have grown. Two years ago with what despairing agony I would have looked upon the prospect before us, and now I only feel a dull heart pain. If we were anywhere but in this State it would not be so horrible, but who can tell what will be our fate. Oh, if father were only at home to advise us what to do. Sometimes I wonder I can be so calm. We have not heard from him in two weeks. He may be in Augusta or Brachville waiting to get through, but if Sherman should reach those places before him and cut him off from us! Oh this fearful uncertainty is heartrending!

Jan. 21st., Sunday.
News from father and Sallie at last. They are safe, and I am so happy. - Page 9



Now doubly happy now that I know all that he has endured and escaped. He was a week in the County surrounded by Yankees. He walked 72 miles in three days. Sallie and Cousin Annie and Ada be sent out by a flag-of-truce. Poor Sallie gives a dreadful account of her adventures. She walked half the distance of Doctortown, camping out in the woods at night with no shelter, crossing burnt trestles and swollen streams on logs. Poor child! If you were only safe at home again. The nearer the time approaches the longer and more weary it seems. Father's letter was dated the 9th, Sallie's from Thomasville the 12th, while they awaited a conveyance to take them to Albany. So as soon as the road is repaired, which will be on Tuesday or Wednesday I shall begin to hope for them. Sallie has been gone nearly three months, and father five or six weeks.

A new trouble - Walter is down with the measles, and we fear if little Carrie should get them it will kill her in her delicate state of health. Mother is trying very hard to keep her from the infection. ***** Things are looking very gloomy. I heard Gov. Magrath had received orders to hold Charleston, but Mr. Memminger who was here yesterday says it is being evacuated. They say Richmond and Petersburg are to be given up, and Lee's army fall back to South Carolina. That would be safer for us, but who could endure the idea of giving up Richmond! Glorious old Richmond, that we have been defending so long. - to fall after all those battles - that would be the darkest, darkest day of all.

Everyone seems to feel that Columbia is doomed. Aunt Josie thinks we had all better run off with the Nitre Bureau and camp in the woods of North Carolina till danger is over. They say Sherman is massing his forces at Branchville. Oh, what times to live in! Who knows what may become of us in ten days! Columbia is thought in so much danger that the ladies closed the Bazaar on Friday. Yet all this does not rouse us. We seem sunk in an apathy. Nothing could surprise me now, unless some Page 10



wonderful help should break in upon our trouble and give us the independence we have been longing and fighting for all these sad years. Even my books fail to keep my attention.

Jan. 22
Mr. Pond has arrived in Columbia with his command. He says Butler's cavalry - five thousand strong - will be stationed here for the present, so we will have some security at least from raids. We can hear no news from the army, except that Hood has been relieved of the command at his own desire. Taylor is in command pro. tem. No one seems to know the whereabouts of either Hood or Thomas. There is talk in Congress of making a Commander-in-chief, and some recommend Joe Johnston. Gen. Lee is the only man for that office.

Jan. 23rd
No more Yet all this does not rouse us. We seem sunk in an apathy. Ni> No one seems to know the whereabouts of either Hood or Thomas. There is talk in Congress of making a Commander-in-chief, and some recommend Joe Johnston. Gen. Lee is the only man for that office.

Jan. 23rd
No more Yet all this does not rouse us. We seem sunk in an apathy. Nying very hard to keep her from the infection. ***** Things are looking very gloomy. I heard Gov. Magrath had received orders to hold Charleston, but Mr. Memminger who was here yesterday says it is being evacuated. They say Richmond and Petersburg are to be given up, and Lee's army fall back to South Carolina. That would be safer for us, but who could endure the idea of giving up Richmond! Glorious old Richmond, that we have been defending so long. - to fall after all those battles - that would be the darkest, darkest day of all.

Everyone seems to feel that Columbia is doomed. Aunt Josie thinks we had all better run off with the Nitre Bureau and camp in the woods of North Carolina till danger is over. They say Sherman is massing his forces at Branchville. Oh, what times to live in! Who knows what may become of us in ten days! Columbia is thought in so much danger that the ladies closed the Bazaar on Friday. Yet all this does not rouse us. We seem sunk in an apathy. Nothing could surprise me now, unless some Page 10



wonderful help should break in upon our trouble and give us the independence we have been longing and fighting for all these sad years. Even my books fail to keep my attention.

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Jan. 22
Mr. Pond has arrived in Columbia with his command. He says Butler's cavalry - five thousand strong - will be stationed here for the present, so we will have some security at least from raids. We can hear no news from the army, except that Hood has been relieved of the command at his own desire. Taylor is in command pro. tem. No one seems to know the whereabouts of either Hood or Thomas. There is talk in Congress of making a Commander-in-chief, and some recommend Joe Johnston. Gen. Lee is the only man for that office.

Jan. 23rd
No more news from father. I begin to think he has stayed to get the negroes out. We hear so many rumors of the movements of the Yankees and of our own troops, but they are not worth noting. ******* Mother has packed up the clothing and bed-linen that we may save those at least. All the books are packed too. I have not been in the library since they were taken down. It would make me too sad to look at the empty shelves. *** It may be of interest some day to recall the poor style in which we lived during the war, so I shall make a few notes. My underclothing is of coarse unbleached homespun, such as we gave the negroes formerly only much coarser. My stockings I knit myself, and my shoes are of heavy calfskin. My dresses are two calicoes, (the last one bought cost sixteen dollars a yard) a homespun of black and white plaid, and an old delaine of pre-war times that hangs on in a dilapidated condition, a reminiscence of better days. We have a couple of old silks, carefully preserved for great occasions and which do not look shabby for the simple reason that all the other old silks that still survive the war are in the same state of decay. The homespun cost about eight or ten Page 11



dollars a yard, - calico is 20 to 30 dollars a yard now, and going higher from week to week. My shoes are 150 dollars a pair. In two or three months these prices will be doubled. We live tolerably poorly. Two meals a day. Two plates of bread for breakfast, one of wheat flour as five bags of flour were recently made a present to us else we would only have corn bread. Corn itself is forty dollars a bushel. Dinner consists of a very small piece of meat, generally beef, a few potatoes and a dish of hominy and a pone of corn bread. We have no reason to complain, so many families are so much worse off. Many have not tasted meat for months, and we too having a cow are able to have butter. Wood is hard to get at one hundred dollars a load. We keep but one fire in the dining room where we sit. We have been fortunate in having gas thus far, (at eighty dollars a thousand) but since the freshet the supply of rosin has been deficient and now and then it is cut off and we burn tallow candles at two dollars apiece. We never have sweet things now, and even mol***** candy is a rarity seldom to be thought of.

Jan. 25th.
Last night while I was lying on the sofa feeling very blue and full of gloomy thoughts in regard to the war and the dreadful possibility of the South having to yield, Uncle H. John came in the library and said - "Well! have you heard the last report? It is said that England and France conjointly will certainly recognize us by the fourth of March." I jumped up with the first thrill of real joy I have felt for a long time. A bright vista of peace and happiness seemed to open up before my mind's eye. Of course a moment's reflection sobered me and brought me back to common sense. I recollected with a sigh how often we had been disappointed and lured on to false hopes by that will-o-the-wisp "Recognition" and "Intervention", yet there are some cir****tances that lend a slight colouring of possible truth to this rumor. Although at the height of their success, the Yankees are making fair proposals through their Commissioner Blair, if Page 12



the South will only yield slavery. Dispatches say that much excitement prevails in Richmond, gold has fallen, and the people are selling out. I think I would rather the South were conquered than that she should make peace with them! Father has not come home yet, and we hear nothing. How tired we are of waiting - how I long to see them. Today is Johnny's birthday. He is fifteen. Mother sent him one of our cobwebbed bottles of champagne. - a few still lurk in the pantry. I tell mother she must keep some for peace if we ever live to see it.

Jan. 27th.
Another day and the long-looked for have not returned. **** later, we have just received a letter from Sallie. She and Cousins Annie and Ada are in Macon with our relatives (the Clifford Andersons), while father has returned to attempt to save Aunt Jane by flag-of-truce. Sallie entreats us to run if there is the slightest danger from Yankees - "Oh mother" she says, "I never want to see them again!" Cousin Ada in a letter to Aunt Josie gives a sad account of all they suffered and the brutal rudeness of the soldiers. I am so sorry for her. She and Aunt Jane are turned adrift homeless and destitute.

Jan. 28th.
Grandpa leaves for Macon the day after tomorrow - Monday. Mother wanted to send me with him but we came to the conclusion we had best not leave home or separate till father comes. ***** Mr. Memminger was here this evening to bid us goodbye. He places no confidence in rumors of foreign aid. He left early and a few minutes after Dr. Nat Pratt dropped in and talked more cheerfully. He seems quite confident we will hear tomorrow that an armistice of 60 days has been declared, having learned that Gen. Hampton has received a telegram to that effect. Gen. Lee has been made Generalissimo, and Hood has taken leave of his army. His farewell address is very manly. He shoulders the whole responsibility of his campaign. Says he did his best and failed.

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The weather is intensely, fearfully cold. Walter is getting on very well but is breaking out in boils now. ** How dreadfully sick I am of this war. Trully we girls whose lot it is to grow up in these times are unfortunate! It commenced when I was thirteen, and I am now seventeen and no prospect yet of its ending. No pleasure, no enjoyment - nothing but rigid economy and hard work - nothing but the stern realities of life. Those which should come later are made familiar to us at an age when only gladness should surround us. We have only the saddest anticipations and the dread of hardships and cares when bright dreams of the future ought to shine on us. I have seen little of the light-heartedness and exuberant joy that people talk about as the natural heritage of youth. It is a hard school to be bred up in and I often wonder if I will ever have my share of fun and happiness. If it had not been for my books it would indeed have been hard to bear. But in them I have lived and found my chief source of pleasure. I would take refuge in them from the sadness all around if it were not for other work to be done. I do all my own sewing now besides helping mother some. Now that everything is lost perhaps we will all have to work for a living before long. I would far rather do that and bear much more than submit to the Yankees.

Jan. 29th, Sunday.
Dr. Gibbs said yesterday he was quite sure of the fact that Alex, Stephens, I. R. Campbell and R. M. T. Hunter had gone to Washington to treat for peace. There is a general feeling throughout the South that we will have peace before long. There have been these national presentiments before however, and I cannot give much heed to this one. The whole atmosphere is filled with the wildest rumors. It is hard to study in the present state of affairs, and since father has been away I have only tried to read again. Yet in the uncertainty of everything I feel more than ever the pressing necessity of gaining an education and that I ought to try Page 14

to persevere in working at it. I could not very well study Physics and Latin while father is away, but I might finish Conic Sections and review some mathematics. All our future is so uncertain. We cannot look beyond the present moment.************************

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Jan. 31st.
Just a month since I commenced writing - only a month, yet how many changes even in that short time. Grandpa left us yesterday for Georgia. ***** I have just written again to Sallie. She may have left Macon before my letter reaches her, but if not the poor child will be anxious enough for news from home. *******************

Feb. 1st.
What a delightful day it is. So balmy and delicious. It is almost oppressive in the sunshine and only the bare trees remind one that it is winter. It is one of those luxurious days that we often have in our Southern February, in which the warm sleepy air seems inviting to dreams and every sound has a softened far-off cadence. Not a breeze is stirring and even animals seem to saunter along dreamily. What a climate would ours be were it not for these cold spells we have now and then. Sunday it was freezing - today it is Spring. I came out on the piazza to read, but fell to thinking instead of just such days two years ago. Cousin Annie was here and how we wandered over the woods and the fields with Jule, sometimes sitting on the brown pine-straw under that great old pine tree by the gurgling spring, talking lazily in the warm sunshine. What a happy pleasant winter it was and how long ago it seems. ********** When shall we three meet again! Never under like cir****tances. She is married and Julian in the army fighting for his country. I only am left in the old place. ***** We have received a letter from father at last! Is that not good news? But my poor darling father - what he has suffered! There were no Yankees this time, but he had the elements to contend with Page 15



and his sufferings were more than the last. It was during those terrible rains and for five days and nights he was on his feet, wet to the skin and sleeping in that condition. He worked like a negro, carrying Aunt Jane's baggage and enduring every kind of fatigue. He crossed the Altamaha when it was so swollen by the freshet that experienced boatmen thought he risked his life. **** What I dread is that he may yet be sick from the re-action. I reproach myself a thousand times that I have not felt more anxious about my precious father, but indeed we had not the slightest thought that he would meet with any obstacle this time. Father said he would be home about the First, so I look for him Friday or Saturday. How will I feel when they are all once more safe at home! I think my heart will overflow with joy and thankfulness. Night Still more rumors - peace rumors relative to the Blair Mission and our own Commissioners in Washington. I am not hopeful but every one around me seems so confident that I cannot help being infected more or less with the general feeling. **

Feb. 2nd, Thursday.
I cannot expect it, yet I do hope the long-watched-for ones will come tonight. It is almost impossible, yet I long for them so. Not only to feel that father were safe at home - that were a weight off one's heart - but there is another anxiety now - Little Carrie has the measles. Dr. Thomson said so this morning and we are so distressed about it. I am so anxious about my little darling and so sorry father will find her sick. She has been so well since he left till now. **********

Feb. 5th, Sunday.
A rainy day, and consequently neither mother nor I went to Church. Last evening Mrs. Caldwell sent word that her father had seen Dr. LeConte in Macon, and that he bade him tell us he would start home in a few days. I put on my hat and shawl and ran around there to learn something more definite, but Mrs. C. could not even tell me what day her father was in Macon, but only that he said father looked quite Page 16



well but sunburnt from exposure. As I returned I stopped to chat with Cousin Lula on the piazza and lingered so long that the rest of my walk home was through the moonlight. It was so lovely and the air so soft and balmy. We cannot think what could detain father in Macon. ***** Uncle John thinks the train may come through today. If not father may take a Government wagon from Augusta, in which case we may expect him Tuesday or Wednesday. He may return just in time for us to take a toilsome flight, for the present plan seems to be to run if the Yankees come. After the threats uttered in Georgia against this State, it would seem folly to remain. So we propose to accompany the Bureau. Aunt Josie says Uncle John is putting springs in some of the wagons for our accommodation. We are to travel out of the track of the enemy and stop at some little village until Columbia is out of danger, or until it is decided where the Nitre Bureau will be located. We will carry bedding and impress provisions at Government prices for the Bureau. This will be quite an expedition - But I so dread leaving home, for I feel I would never see it again except in ashes. How one grows accustomed to things - a year ago all this would have made me half crazy with anxiety and excitement - now it seems natural. We are prepared for the worst and dare not look even into the immediate future. I cannot even attempt to picture to myself what may happen in the next six weeks, or what may be the fate of our dear beautiful old Columbia. ******* At Church this afternoon Dr. Palmer said that an ambulance train was to be sent to Branchville and necessary supplies for the wounded were solicited from the ladies. I stopped at Aunt Josie's coming back to see how Johnnie got on with the measles and found him up. Uncle John says in a day or two the town will be flooded with the wounded - that there will not be sufficient hospital accommodation, and that private houses will have to be opened to receive them.

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Alas! the horrors of war

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are coming home to us now. Our College hospital has indeed always been full, and the disabled, limping soldier has grown to be as familiar as was formerly the festive student in these classic grounds. But we have never yet been literally surrounded by the wounded, the dead and dying. Sometimes I still try to get away from the horrid present by forgetting myself in a book. I have been reading just now Hitch***** Religion and Geology. I find a good many ideas there that M. in our talks advanced as his own - sometimes expressed in the identical words. I think he had very recently read the book. By the way, M. (young Mr. Memminger) left Columbia the other day. It is not likely we will ever be thrown together again. Well, I had a very pleasant time with him while he was here. He is right clever, has read a good deal and his wild theories and still wilder dreams amuse and entertain me.

7th Feb. Tuesday.
What gloomy weather it is. The rain is flooding down in torrents. I would not mind the pouring rain, but that my imagination pictures father and the rest exposed to its fury - perhaps in an open Government wagon. We hoped for them a little yesterday - would look for them certainly tonight but that we have been so often disappointed. - All this continual fear and anxiety have made me realize how intensely I love my dear precious father. *** Walter has just returned from the Medical Board where he went to secure a sick furlough. He will probably be successful. *** The hospital is to be moved to North Carolina as Columbia is in danger. Our own movements are unsettled, so altogether he prefers going home to South-west Georgia. ***********

Wed. Feb. 8th.
Joy - joy! They have come. Last night when I met father I think I was perfectly happy - I was standing downstairs in the basement by the fire, (mother and I have moved down there since Carrie's illness) when I heard a step in the hall. "It is father", I thought - then I tried Page 18



to persuade myself it was only Walter. Then I heard someone descending the stairs. I ran to the door, to find my eager hope realized. With a cry of joy I threw myself in father's arms and clung to him kissing him. He was wet through - hair and beard dripping. After a few moments he went back to Aunt Josie's and fetched Sallie over, who received a glad welcome home. Then such talking! But another time I will try to give some account of their adventures. *** About ten o'clock this morning, Walter having just left us, I went over to Aunt Josie's to see Aunt Jane and Cousin Ada.

Feb. 9th.
I went to Aunt Josie's to return a glove pattern and to carry over some of Aunt Jane's things that were with Sallie's. Found them all well. Father is not well however. His return to the house, after his open air life, has given him a severe cold. He and mother agree to let me teach Sallie, both that she may be studying and that I may learn to teach.

Saturday Feb. 11th.
I hardly know where to begin my journal of yesterday, so many things happened. To begin with the morning. While at the breakfast table Peter came in from Aunt Josie's to tell us that Jule and Cousin Johnnie had just arrived - imagine our surprise! Shortly afterwards father received an order from Richmond to pack up and move the laboratory to Athens, Ga. For awhile we of course supposed we would go also - even now it still seems probable. So here was abundant subject for thought and talk. To think that we should really have to set to work immediately to pack up and leave home was enough to keep our brain active. **** Returning from my French lesson I stopped at Aunt Josie's to find her half crazy with delight at having Jule again - and Aunt Jane equally happy but not quite so overcome, while both boys looked as large and natural as life. They had burst into the house about 8 A.M. without a word of warning. Page 19



Fancy Aunt Josie's joy at seeing her soldier boy after more than a year's absence, during which time his life has been constantly exposed. Julian is not quite so stout as he was a year ago last Christmas - his beard is quite formidable, and altogether he is a very handsome soldier. Cousin Johnny is somewhat changed but looks well. Their battery is to remain here for the present - to be mounted and then to join Hampton. Father telegraphed Col. St. John to know if he must accompany the laboratory to Athens. He has not yet received an answer, but since he is consulting chemist he will probably be kept on the line of telegraph, the two laboratories being consolidated under Pratt. Still he may be ordered to Ga. It is very hard for me to think of leaving home - yet the town is in such danger, and we feel so restless. ************ 12th or 13th. Feb.
Father brought in some news this morning. First and worst, the Yankees are skirmishing at Orangeburg. Second and more encouraging, Gen. Hampton says Sherman will not come to Columbia. At all events we certainly will know in a day or two what he is going to do. Mr. Walker has been taking steps toward boxing up and sending off the Library, but the Governor does not think he can obtain transportation for such a large collection of books. *************

[thea_447]

Interrupting here to report sadly that Sherman did come to Columbia and thus was lost the largest private library in the entire South. ...Thea

[thea_447]

Feb. 14th, Tuesday.
What a panic the whole town is in! I have not been out of the house myself, but father says the intensest excitement prevails on the streets. The Yankees are reported a few miles off on the other side of the river. How strong no one seems to know. It is decided if this be true that we will remain quietly here, father alone leaving. It is thought Columbia can hardly be taken by a raid as we have the whole of Butler's cavalry here - and if they do we have to take the consequences. It is true some think Sherman will burn the town, but we can hardly believe that. Besides these buildings, though Page 20



they are State property, yet the fact that they are used as a hospital will it is thought protect them. I have been hastily making large pockets to wear under my hoopskirt - for they will hardly search our persons. Still everything of any value is to be packed up to go with father. I do not feel half so frightened as I thought I would. Perhaps because I cannot realize they are coming. I hope still this is a false report. Maggie Adams and her husband have promised to stay here during father's absence. She is a Yankee and may be some protection and help. Our sufferings will probably be of short duration, as they will hardly send more than a raid. They would not have time to occupy the town. But I cannot believe they are coming! ********* Aunt Josie and all will remain I suppose. Indeed they would not have time now to put into execution their projected flight. Alas, what may we not have gone through with by the end of this week! Ah me, I look forward with terror, and yet with a kind of callousness to their approach.

night - Father says the above is a false alarm. It was only a raid of 300 men which was repulsed by our forces. The evil day is at least postponed.

Wednesday Feb. 15th.
Oh, how is it possible to write amid this excitement and confusion! We are too far off to hear and see much down here in the Campus, but they tell me the streets in town are lined with panic-stricken crowds, trying to escape. All is confusion and turmoil. The Government is rapidly moving off stores - all day the trains have been running, whistles blowing and wagons rattling through the streets. All day we have been listening to the booming of cannon - receiving conflicting rumors of the fighting. All day wagons and ambulances have been bringing in the wounded over the muddy streets and through the drizzling Page 21



rain, with the dark gloomy clouds overhead. All day in our own household has confusion reigned too. The back parlor strewed with clothing etc., open trunks standing about, while a general feeling of misery and tension pervaded the atmosphere. Everything is to go that can be sent - houselinen, blankets, clothing, silver, jewelry - even the wine - everything movable of any value. Hospital flags have been erected at the different gates of the Campus - we hope the fact of our living within the walls may be some protection to us, but I fear not. I feel sure these buildings will be destroyed. I wish mother could have sent some furniture to different friends in town, but it is too late now. Aunt Josie has sent her pictures, Uncle John's manuscripts and some clothing to the Roman Catholic priest's house on Main St. Aunt Jane was here a few moments ago and advised mother as to what things she had better send off. She says Aunt Josie is in a dreadful state of excitement. Neither mother nor I are much alarmed, though poor Sallie is very much frightened and has been crying hysterically all the morning. I have destroyed most of my papers, but have a lot of letters still that I do not wish to burn, and yet I do not care to have them share the fate of Aunt Jane's and Cousin Ada's in Liberty Co., which were read and scattered along the roads. I will try to hide them. One of my bags is filled. The other I will pack tonight. Henry will stay with us, and vows he will stand by us through thick and thin - I believe he means it, but do not know how he will hold on. It is so cold and we have no wood. The country people will not venture in town lest their horses should be impressed. So we sit shivering and trying to coax a handful of wet pine to burn. *** Yonder come more wounded - poor fellows - indeed I can write no more. Night Nearer and nearer, clearer and more distinctly sound the cannon - Oh, it is heart-sickening to listen to it! For two or three hours after dinner the cannonade ceased, but for a half an hour past the same sounds, Page 22



with the roar of musketry, break upon us - frightfully near and sounding above the din of a tumultuous town and above the rattling carts. Just now as I stood on the piazza listening, the reports sounded so frightfully loud and near that I could not help shuddering at each one. And yet there is something exciting - sublime - in a cannonade. But the horrible uncertainty of what is before us! My great fear now is for father - Oh, if he were only gone - were only safe!

The alarm bell is ringing. Just now when I first heard it clang out my heart gave a leap, and I thought at once - "It is the Yankees". So nervous have I grown that the slightest unusual sound startles me. Of course I knew it was a fire, yet it was with a beating heart I threw open the window to see the western horizon lit up with the glow of flames. Although we are composed our souls are sick with anxiety. ***** Oh, if father were only safely off! I try to be hopeful, but if it is true, as it is said, that this is one of Sherman's army corps, what resistance can our handful of troops make? Oh, if Cheatham's corps would only come! Beauregard said he was expecting it in 13 hours, and that was about 2 p.m. They should therefore be here early tomorrow morning - will they come? Oh, if Columbia could only be saved! They surely ought not to give it up without a struggle.

Later - They have passed our first line of breastworks. No firing tonight. Father and Uncle John leave tonight or tomorrow morning. - **

Thursday 16th. Feb.
How can the terror and excitement of today be described! I feel a little quieter now and seize the opportunity to write a few lines. Last night, or rather early this morning, father left. After the last lines in my entry last evening, I went downstairs and found in the back parlor with father a man calling himself Davis. I had heard father Page 23
&man's army corps, what resistance can our handful of troops make? Oh, if Cheatham's corps would only come! Beauregard said he was expecting it in 13 hours, and that was about 2 p.m. They should therefore be here early tomorrow morning - will they come? Oh, if Columbia could only be saved! They surely ought not to give it up without a struggle.

Later - They have passed our first line of breastworks. No firing tonight. Father and Uncle John leave tonight or tomorrow morning. - **

Thursday 16th. Feb.
How can the terror and excitement of today be described! I feel a little quieter now and seize the opportunity to write a few lines. Last night, or rather early this morning, father left. After the last lines in my entry last evening, I went downstairs and found in the back parlor with father a man calling himself Davis. I had heard father Page 23



speak of him before. He met him in Georgia while making his way back home with Sallie, and he was very kind to them during that difficult journey. He calls himself a Confederate spy or scout and is an oddity. I only half trust him - he evidently is not what he pretends to be. He says he is a Kentuckian and is both coarse and uneducated, but wonderfully keen and penetrating. He talked a great deal and entertained us by reading our different characters for us. He has taken an unaccountable fancy to our father - as shown by his hunting him up - and he assures him again and again that he will have us protected during the presence of the Yankees here. He claims great influence with the Yankee officers and entire knowledge of the enemy's movements. All the evening he seemed exceedingly uneasy that father should so long have deferred his departure and very impatient to get him off. He offered to lend him a horse if that would facilitate his leaving. Father is not uneasy, for our authorities assure him that all is right, but I do not like this man's evident anxiety. Can he know more than the Generals? About half-past twelve father took leave of us. Thus to part! Father starting on an uncertain journey - not knowing whether he may not be captured in his flight, and leaving us to the mercy of the inhuman beastly Yankees - I think it was the saddest moment of my life. Of course father feels very anxious about us, and the last words the man Davis said to him were to assure him that he might feel easy about us. I wonder if there is any confidence to be put in what he says! Hardly, I suppose. We said goodbye with heavy hearts and with many presentiments of evil. After father was gone I sat up still, talking with Davis. I could not sleep, and besides I wanted to hear that father was safely off. We asked our guest how he thought Columbia would be treated - he said Page 24



he would not tell us - it would alarm us too much. Does he really know all he pretends, or is he only guessing? It was three o'clock before I lay down and fell into a disturbed doze which lasted till seven. Davis stayed and slept on the ground floor, but was gone before we awoke. The breakfast hour passed in comparative calm. About nine o'clock we were sitting in the dining room, having just returned from the piazza where we had been watching a brigade of cavalry passing to the front. "Wouldn't it be dreadful if they should shell the city?" someone said - "They would not do that", replied mother, "for they have not demanded its surrender". Scarcely had the words passed her lips when Jane, the nurse, rushed in crying out that they were shelling. We ran to the front door just in time to hear a shell go whirring past. It fell and exploded not far off. This was so unexpected. I do not know why, but in all my list of anticipated horrors I somehow had not thought of a bombardment. If I had only looked for it I wouldn't have been so frightened. As it was for a few minutes I leaned against the door fairly shivering, partly with cold but chiefly from nervous excitement. After listening to them awhile this wore off and I became accustomed to the shells. Indeed we were in no immediate danger, for the shells were thrown principally higher up. They were shelling the town from the Lexington heights just over the river, and from the campus gate their troops could be seen drawn up on the hill-tops. Up the street this morning the Government stores were thrown open to the people and there was a general scramble. Our negroes were up there until frightened home by the shells. The shelling was discontinued for an hour or two and then renewed with so much fury that we unanimously resolved to adjourn to the basement and abandon the upper rooms. Sallie and I went up to our rooms to bring down our things. I was standing at my bureau with my arms full when I heard a loud report. Page 25



The shell whistled right over my head and exploded. I stood breathless, really expecting to see it fall in the room. When it had passed I went into the hall and met Sallie, coming from her room, pale and trembling . "O Emma" she said, "this is dreadful!"

We went downstairs - mother stood in the hall looking very much frightened - "Did you hear -" "Yes indeed" - and at that instant another whistled close overhead. This was growing rather unpleasant and we retreated to the basement without ****her delay, where we sat listening as they fell now nearer, and now ****her off. Sallie suffered most - she would not be left alone, and would not allow me to go to the outer door to look about, but would call me back in terror. The firing ceased about dinner time, but as may be imagined, none of us could eat. During the afternoon a rapid cannonade was kept up and I do not think the forces could have been more than half a mile from here. Dr. Thomson says they are only skirmishing. Davis says we have received re-inforcements, but he thinks we cannot hold the town as we have given up the strongest position. He was here this morning during the shelling and stood talking to me in the dining room for some time, giving me a picture of the confusion up town. Our soldiers had opened and plundered some of the stores. He brought me a present of a box of fancy feathers and one or two other little things he had picked up. He says the bridge will be burned and the town evacuated tonight.

10 o'clock p.m. - They are in bed sleeping, or trying to sleep. I don't think I shall attempt it. Davis was here just now to tell us the news - it is kind of him to come so often to keep us posted. I went up to see him - made Henry light the gas and sat talking to him in the hall, while through the open door came the shouts of the soldiery drawn up along the streets ready to march out. Perhaps the Yankees may be in tonight - yet Page 26

I do not feel as frightened as I thought I would. Dr. Thomson re-assures us. He does not think we shall suffer half as much as we imagine. Maggie is not coming. We three will have to tough it out alone. We have moved into the back basement room. I opened the door which gives from our present sleeping room on the back yard just now, and the atmosphere was stifling with gun-powder smoke. After I left Davis and came downstairs awhile ago the gas went out, so I am writing now by the firelight. I suppose it will be several days before we see gas again. Fortunately mother has a few candles. Henry had to cut down a tree on the yard today for fuel. But I must put by my pencil for tonight. I wonder what another day's entry will be!

[thea_447]

Friday, 17th Feb.
How long is this distress of mind to continue! It is now about eleven o'clock, and the longest morning I ever lived through. I threw myself on the bed late last night, or rather early this morning, without undressing, feeling if I did not take some rest I would be sick. I lay awake a long time in spite of heavy eyelids, listening to the occasional cannon reports, wondering if the shelling would be renewed and thinking of the tumult there was reigning uptown. At last I fell into a heavy sleep. At about six o'clock while it was still quite dark and all in the room were buried in profound slumber, we were suddenly awakened by a terrific explosion. The house shook - broken window-panes clattered down, and we all sat up in bed, for a few seconds mute with terror. My first impression on waking was that a shell had struck the house, but as soon as I could collect my senses I know that no shell could make such a noise. We lit the candle, and mother sent Jane to inquire of Henry the cause. Of course he did not know. I went out of doors. The day was beginning to break murkily and the air was still heavy with smoke. All continuing quiet we concluded that the authorities had Page 27



blown up some stores before evacuating. Whatever the cause, the effect was to scare us very effectively and to drive away all thought of sleep. We got up an hour later, almost fainting for we had eaten almost nothing the preceeding day. I forced myself to eat a little and to drink a half cup of coffee. After breakfast the cannon opened again and so near that every report shook the house. I think it must have been a cannonade to cover our retreat. It did not continue very long. The negroes all went uptown to see what they could get in the general pillage, for all the shops had been opened and provisions were scattered in all directions. Henry says that in some parts of Main Street corn and flour and sugar cover the ground. An hour or two ago they came running back declaring the Yankees were in town and that our troops were fighting them in the streets. This was not true, for at that time every soldier nearly had left town, but we did not know it then. I had been feeling wretchedly faint and nauseated with every mouthful of food I swallowed, and now I trembled all over and thought I should faint. I knew this would not do, so I lay down awhile and by dint of a little determination got quiet again. Mother is downright sick. She had been quite collected and calm until this news, but now she suddenly lost all self-control and exhibited the most lively terror - indeed I thought she would grow hysterical. As for Sallie her fright may be more easily imagined than described. This condition of affairs only lasted about half-an-hour, but it was dreadful while it did last. As soon as I could I put on my pocket and nerved myself to meet them, but by-and-by the firing ceased and all was quiet again. It was denied that the Yankees had yet crossed the river or even completed their pontoon bridge, and most of the servants returned uptown. They have brought back a considerable quantity of provisions - the negroes are very kind and faithful - they have supplied us with meat and Jane brought mother some rice and crushed Page 28



sugar for Carrie, knowing that she had none. How times change! Those whom we have so long fed and cared for now help us - *** We are intensely eager for every item of news, but of course can only hear through the negroes. A gentleman told us just now that the mayor had gone forward to surrender the town.

One o'clock p.m. - Well, they are here. I was sitting in the back parlor when I heard the shouting of the troops. I was at the front door in a moment. Jane came running and crying - "O Miss Emma, they've come at last!" She said they were then marching down Main Street, before them flying a panic-stricken crowd of women and children who seemed crazy. As she came along by Aunt Josie's Miss Mary was at the gate about to run out - "For God's sake Miss Mary" she cried "stay where you are". I suppose she (Miss M.) thought of running to the Convent. I ran upstairs to my bedroom windows just in time to see the U.S. flag run up over the State house. O what a horrid sight! what a degradation! After four long bitter years of bloodshed and hatred, now to float there at last! That hateful symbol of despotism! I do not think I could possibly describe my feelings. I know I could not look at it. I left the window and went back downstairs to mother. In a little while a guard arrived to protect the hospital. They have already fixed a shelter of boards near against the wall near the gate - sentinels are stationed and they are cooking their dinner. The wind is very high today and blows their hats around. This is the first sight we have had of these fiends except as prisoners. The sight does not stir up very pleasant feelings in our hearts. We cannot look at them with anything but horror and hatred - loathing and disgust. The troops now in town is a brigade commanded by Col. Stone. Everything is quiet and orderly. Guards have been placed to protect houses, and Sherman has promised not to disturb private property. Page 29



How relieved and thankful we feel after all our anxiety and distress! -

Later - Gen. Sherman has assured the Mayor, "that he and all the citizens may sleep securely and quietly tonight as if under Confederate rule. Private property shall be carefully respected. Some public buildings have to be destroyed, but he will wait until tomorrow when the wind shall have entirely subsided". It is said that one or two stragglers from Wheeler's command fired on the flag as it was borne down Main Street on the carriage containing the Mayor, Col. Stone and officers.

Saturday afternoon, Feb. 18th.
- What a night of horror, misery and agony! It is useless to try to put on paper any idea of it. The recollection is so fearful, yet any attempt to describe it seems so useless. It even makes one sick to think of writing down such scenes - and yet as I have written thus far I ought, while it is still fresh, try even imperfectly to give some account of last night. Every incident is now so vividly before me and yet it does not seem real - rather like a fearful dream, or nightmare that still oppresses.



Until dinner-time we saw little of the Yankees, except the guard about the Campus, and the officers and men galloping up and down the street. It is true, as I have since learned that as soon as the bulk of the army entered the work of pillage began. But we are so far off and so secluded from the rest of town that we were happily ignorant of it all.

[thea_447]

I do not know exactly when Sherman, but I should judge about two or between one and two p.m. We could hear their shouts as they surged down Main Street and through the State house, but were too far off to see much of the tumult, nor did we dream what a scene of pillage and terror was being enacted. I hear they found a picture of President Davis in the Capitol which was set up as a target and shot at amid the jeers of the soldiery. From three o'clock till seven their army was passing down the street by

Page 30



the Campus, to encamp back of us in the woods. Two Corps entered town - Howard's and Logan's - one, the diabolical 15th which Sherman has hitherto never permitted to enter a city on account of their vile and desperate character. Slocum's Corps remained over the river, and I suppose Davis' also. The devils as they marched past looked strong and well clad in dark, dirty-looking blue. The wagon trains were immense. Night drew on. Of course we did not expect to sleep, but we looked forward to a tolerably tranquil night. Strange as it may seem we were actually idiotic enough to believe Sherman would keep his word! - A Yankee - and Sherman! It does seem incredible, such credulity, but I suppose we were so anxious to believe him - the lying fiend! I hope retributive justice will find him out one day. At about seven o'clock I was standing on the back piazza in the third story. Before me the whole southern horizon was lit up by camp-fires which dotted the woods. On one side the sky was illuminated by the burning of Gen. Hampton's residence a few miles off in the country, on the other side by some blazing buildings near the river. I had scarecely gone down stairs again when Henry told me there was a fire on Main Street. Sumter Street was brightly lighted by a burning house so near our piazza that we could feel the heat. By the red glare we could watch the wretches walking - generally staggering - back and forth from the camp to the town - shouting - hurrahing - cursing South Carolina - swearing - blashpheming - singing ribald songs and using obscene language that we were forced to go indoors. The fire on Main Street was now raging, and we anxiously watched its progress from the upper front windows. In a little while however the flames broke forth in every direction. The drunken devils roamed about setting fire to every house the flames seemed likely to spare. They were fully equipped for the noble work they had in hand. Each soldier was furnished with combustibles Page 31



compactly put up. They would enter houses and in the presence of helpless women and children, pour turpentine on the beds and set them on fire. Guards were rarely of any assistance - most generally they assisted in the pillaging and firing. The wretched people rushing from their burning homes were not allowed to keep even the few necessaries they gathered up in their flight - even blankets and food were taken from them and destroyed. The Firemen attempted to use their engines, but the hose was cut to pieces and their lives threatened. The wind blew a fearful gale, wafting the flames from house to house with frightful rapidity. By midnight the whole town (except the outskirts) was wrapped in one huge blaze. Still the flames had not approached sufficiently near us to threaten our immediate safety, and for some reason not a single Yankee soldier had entered our house. And now the fire instead of approaching us seemed to recede - Henry said the danger was over and, sick of the dreadful scene, worn out with fatigue and excitement, we went downstairs to our room and tried to rest. I fell into a heavy kind of stupor from which I was presently roused by the bustle about me. Our neighbor Mrs. Caldwell and her two sisters stood before the fire wrapped in blankets and weeping. Their home was on fire, and the great sea of flame had again swept down our way to the very Campus walls. I felt a kind of sickening despair and did not even stir to go and look out. After awhile Jane came in to say that Aunt Josie's house was in flames - then we all went to the front door - My God! - what a scene! It was about four o'clock and the State house was one grand conflagration. Imagine night turned into noonday, only with a blazing, scorching glare that was horrible - a copper colored sky across which swept columns of black rolling smoke glittering with sparks and flying embers, while all around us were falling thickly showers of burning flakes. Everywhere the palpitating blaze walling the streets with Page 32



solid m***** of flames as far as the eye could reach - filling the air with its horrible roar. On every side the crackling and devouring fire, while every instant came the crashing of timbers and the thunder of falling buildings. A quivering molten ocean seemed to fill the air and sky. The Library building opposite us seemed framed by the gushing flames and smoke, while through the windows gleamed the liquid fire. This we thought must be Aunt Josie's house. It was the next one, for although hers caught frequently, it was saved. The College buildings caught all along that dise, and had the incendiary work continued one half hour longer than it did they must have gone. All the physicians and nurses were on the roof trying to save the buildings, and the poor wounded inmates left to themselves, such as could crawled out while those who could not move waited to be burned to death. The Common opposite the gate was crowded with homeless women and children, a few wrapped in blankets and many shivering in the night air. Such a scene as this with the drunken fiendish soldiery in their dark uniforms, infuriated cursing, screaming, exulting in their work, came nearer realizing the material ideal of hell than anything I ever expect to see again. They call themselves "Sherman's Hellhounds". Mother collected together some bedding, clothing and food which Henry carried to the back of the garden and covered them with a hastily ripped-up carpet to protect them from the sparks and flakes of fire. He wroked so hard, so faithfully, and tried to comfort mother as best he could while she was sobbing and crying at the thought of being left shelterless with a delicate baby. While this was going on I stood with Mary Ann at the kitchen door. She tried to speak hopefully - I could not cry - it was too horrible. Yet I felt the house must burn. By what miracle it was saved I cannot think. No effort could be made - no one was on the roof which was old and dry, and all the while the sparks and burning timbers were flying over it like rain. When the few things she tried to save Page 33



were moved, mother took up little Carrie who was sleeping unconsciously, and wrapping ourselves in shawls and blankets, we went to the front door and waited for the house to catch. There we stood watching and listening to the roaring and crashing. It seemed inevitable - they said they would not leave a house, and what would become of us! I suppose we owe our final escape to the presence of the Yankee wounded in the hospital. When all seemed in vain, Dr. Thomson went to an officer and asked if he would see his own soldiers burnt alive. He said he would save the hospital, and he and his men came to Dr. T's assistance. Then too about this time even the Yankees seemed to have grown weary of their horrible work - the signal for the cessation of the fire - a blast on the bugle - was given, and in fifteen minutes the flames ceased to spread. By seven o'clock the last flame had expired. About six o'clock a crowd of drunken soldiers assaulted the Campus gate and threatened to overpower the guard, swearing the buildings should not be spared. By great exertions Dr. Thomson found Sherman, and secured a strong guard in time to rescue the hospital. Mrs. C. who had been to see after her house now returned, and sitting down sobbed convulsively as she told us of the insults she had received from the soldiery engaged in pillaging her home. An officer riding by ordered the men to stop. So broken down and humbled by the terrible experience of the night was she that she cried - out - "O, sir, please make them stop!" You don't know what I suffered this night." - "I don't give a **** for your suffering" he replied, "but my men have no right to pillage against orders." Fortunately - oh, so fortunately for us, the hospital is so strictly guarded that we are unmolested within the walls.

[thea_447]

O, that long twelve hours! Never surely again will I live through such a night of horrors. The memory of it will haunt me as long as I shall live - it seemed as if the day would never come. The sun rose at last, dim and red

Page 34



through the thick murky atmosphere. It set last night on a beautiful town full of women and children - it shone dully down this morning on smoking ruins and abject misery.

I do not know how the others felt after the strain of the fearful excitement , but I seemed to sink into a dull apathy. We none seemed to have the energy to talk. After awhile breakfast came - a sort of mockery, for no one could eat. After taking a cup of coffee and bathing my face, begrimed with smoke, I felt better and the memory of the night seemed like a frightful dream. I have scarcely slept for three nights, yet my eyes are not heavy.

During the forenoon Aunt Josie and Aunt Jane came over to see how we had fared. We met as after a long seperation, and for some seconds no one could speak. Then we exchanged experiences. They were nearer the flames than we, but they had Dr. Carter with them - someone to look to and to help them. Aunt Josie says the northern side of their house became so heated that no one could remain on that side of the house, and it caught fire three times. Being outside the hospital buildings they were more exposed than we. Once a number of Yankees rushed in saying the roof was on fire. Andrew, the negro boy followed them up, saw them tear up the tin roofing and place lighted combustibles, and after they went down he succeeded in extinguishing the flames. A tolerably faithful guard was some protection to them. The view from their attic windows commands the whole town, and Aunt Josie said it was like one surging ocean of flame. She thought with us that it was more like the mediaeval pictures of hell than anything she had ever imagined. We do not k