We are living in fear of a Yankee raid. They have a large
force on York River, and are continually sending parties up the Pamunky and
Mattapony Rivers, to devastate the country and annoy the inhabitants. Not long
ago a party rode to the house of a gentleman on Mattapony; meeting him on the
lawn, the commander accosted him: “Mr. R., I understand you have the finest horses
in King William County?” “Perhaps, sir, I have,” replied Mr. R. “Well, sir,”
said the officer, “I want those horses immediately.” “They are not yours,” replied
Mr. R, “and you can't get them.” The officer began to curse, and said he would
burn every house on the place if the horses were not produced. Suiting the
action to the word, he handed a box of matches to a subordinate, saying, “Burn!”
In half an hour Mr. R. saw fourteen of his houses in a light blaze, including
the dwelling, the kitchen, corn-houses and barn filled with grain, meat-house
filled with meat, and servants' houses. Scarcely any thing was saved, not even
the family clothes. But he did not get the horses, which were the objects of
his peculiar wishes; the faithful servants had carried them away to a place of
safety. How strange it is that we can be so calm, surrounded as we are by
danger!
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 222
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