Our fears have all been realized: the enemy is upon us, and
is in pursuit of McCausland, who left the town about an hour before they
entered. About ten o'clock this morning, McC. burned the bridge as the enemy
approached it; he then began to fire upon them. We have been shelled in reply
all day; one shell exploded in our orchard, a few yards beyond us, — our house
being just in their range as they threw them at the retreating Confederates.
The Cadets, my husband among them, remained on the Institute hill, till the
shot and shell fell so thick that it was dangerous; the Cadets then retreated,
and are several hours ahead; but they are infantry, and this is a cavalry force
altogether. Mr. P. is just two hours ahead of them. The people from the lower
part of the town fled from their dwellings, and our house was filled with women
and children. Just in the midst of the thickest shelling, the poor wounded boy
from the Institute hospital was carried here, surrounded by a guard of cadets.
He has borne the removal very well. I have distributed some of J.'s
blackberry-wine, which I have always forborne to open, among the frightened and
almost fainting ladies. About four o'clock the head of the Yankee column came
in sight. I went out and watched them approach; saw six of our pickets run
ahead of them some ten minutes. One of them dropped his gun near our door. For
two hours there was one continuous stream of cavalry, riding at a fast trot,
and several abreast, passing out at the top of town. Then the infantry began to
pour in: these remained behind, and with cavalry who came in after, flooded the
town. They began to pour into our yard and kitchen. I ordered them out of the
kitchen, half a dozen at a time, and hesitated not to speak in the most firm
and commanding tone to them. At first they were content to receive bacon, two
slices apiece; but they soon became insolent; demanded the smokehouse key, and
told me they would break the door unless I opened it. I protested against their
pillage, and with a score of them surrounding me, with guns in their hands,
proceeded to the smokehouse and threw it open, entreating them at the same
time, by the respect they had for their wives, mothers, and sisters, to leave
me a little meat. They heeded me no more than wild beasts would have done;
swore at me; and left me not one piece. Some rushed down the cellar steps,
seized the newly churned butter there, and made off. I succeeded in keeping
them out of the house. We have had no dinner; managed to procure a little
supper; we have nailed up all the windows. I wrote a polite note to Gen.
Averill, asking for a guard; none was sent. At ten we went to bed, feeling that
we had nothing between these ravagers and us but God's protecting arm.
SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and
Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 188-9
No comments:
Post a Comment