Last night I could not sleep, in consequence of a threat
made by one of the Yankee soldiers in our kitchen. He said that 30,000 soldiers
had been ordered to the Court-House to-day, to “wipe out” our people. Were our
people ignorant of this, and how should we let them know of it? These were
questions that haunted me all night. Before day I formed my plan, and awakened
S. to consult her on the subject. It was this: To send W. S. to the
Court-House, as usual, for our letters and papers. If the Yankee pickets
stopped him, he could return; if he could reach our pickets, he could give the
alarm. She agreed to it, and as soon as it was day we aroused the child, communicated
to him our plan, (for we dared not write;) he entered into the spirit of it,
and by light he was off. I got up and went down to the yard, for I could not
sit still; but what was my consternation, after a short time had elapsed, to
see at the gate, and all along the road, the hated red streamers of our enemy,
going towards the Court House! S. and myself were miserable about W. M. and C.
gave us no comfort; they thought it very rash in us to send him — he would be
captured, and “Fax” (the horse) would certainly be taken. We told them that it
was worth the risk to put our people on their guard; but, nevertheless, we were
unhappy beyond expression. Presently a man with a wretched countenance, and,
from his conversation, an abolitionist of the deepest dye, rode in to inquire
if the artillery had passed along. My fears about W. induced me to assume a
bland countenance and manner, and I told him of having sent a little boy for
the mail, and I wanted him to see that he came home safely; he said that the
boy would not be allowed to pass, and promised, gruffly, to do what he could
for him; but at the same time made such remarks as made our blood boil; but,
remembering W's danger, we made no reply. He said he was aid to General Warren.
Before he left our gate, what was our relief to see W. ride in, escorted by
fourteen lancers, he and his horse unmolested! The child had gone ahead of the
Yankees, reached our picket, told his story, and a vidette had immediately been
sent with the information to head-quarters. I then for the first time took my
seat, with my heart full of gratitude for W's safety, and feeling greatly
relieved that I had done what I could. At three o'clock the firing commenced;
it was very heavy for some hours; we knew they were fighting, and knew, too,
that our force at the Court-House was not large. Oh, what anxious moments we
have experienced this day! The firing has now ceased, and the Yankees are
constantly straggling in, claiming a great victory; but we have learned to
believe nothing they say.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 138-9
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