A man passed on his way to Covington. I halloed to him, asking him if he did not know the Yankees were coming. I don't want them to get my horse. Blissful ignorance! Not knowing, not hearing, he has not suffered the suspense, the fear, that I have for the past forty-eight hours. I walked to the gate. There they came filing up. I hastened back to my frightened servants and told them that they had better hide, and then went back to the gate to claim protection and a guard.
But like demons they rush in! My yards are full.
Napoleon on Elba: Diary of an Eyewitness to Exile - cohouderanti.tk
To my smoke-house, my dairy, pantry, kitchen, and cellar, like famished wolves they come, breaking locks and whatever is in their way. The thousand pounds of meat in my smoke-house is gone in a twinkling, my flour, my meat, my lard, butter, eggs, pickles of various kinds - both in vinegar and brine - wine, jars, and jugs are all gone. My eighteen fat turkeys, my hens, chickens, and fowls, my young pigs, are shot down in my yard and hunted as if they were rebels themselves. Utterly powerless I ran out and appealed to the guard. One, Newton, jumped into bed in his cabin, and declared himself sick.
Another crawled under the floor, - a lame boy he was, - but they pulled him out, placed him on a horse, and drove him off.
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Mid, poor Mid! The last I saw of him, a man had him going around the garden, looking, as I thought, for my sheep, as he was my shepherd. Jack came crying to me, the big tears coursing down his cheeks, saying they were making him go. I said:. But a man followed in, cursing him and threatening to shoot him if he did not go; so poor Jack had to yield. A family flees the approach of Sherman's Army Sherman himself and a greater portion of his army passed my house that day.
All day, as the sad moments rolled on, were they passing not only in front of my house, but from behind; they tore down my garden palings, made a road through my back-yard and lot field, driving their stock and riding through, tearing down my fences and desolating my home - wantonly doing it when there was no necessity for it. As night drew its sable curtains around us, the heavens from every point were lit up with flames from burning buildings.
Dinnerless and supperless as we were, it was nothing in comparison with the fear of being driven out homeless to the dreary woods. Nothing to eat! I could give my guard no supper, so he left us. My Heavenly Father alone saved me from the destructive fire. My carriage-house had in it eight bales of cotton, with my carriage, buggy, and harness.
On top of the cotton were some carded cotton rolls, a hundred pounds or more. These were thrown out of the blanket in which they were, and a large twist of the rolls taken and set on fire, and thrown into the boat of my carriage, which was close up to the cotton bales.
Thanks to my God, the cotton only burned over, and then went out. Shall I ever forget the deliverance? Permissions Icon Permissions. Published by Oxford University Press. All rights reserved. For permissions, please email: journals.
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