Dear Brother: I know
the railroad depot and three large bridges were burned before a soldier of ours
had entered Columbia, and I know that six hours before the real conflagration
began I saw half-a-dozen piles of cotton on fire in the streets one large pile
near the market house where the great conflagration began, which fire our
soldiers were putting out as I rode by it. . . . Wade Hampton defended Columbia
as long as he dared, and then ran away, leaving the city full of cotton blowing
about like flakes of snow. So that trees and frame houses and garden fences
were literally white. Of course a mayor could expect no terms. Being helpless,
he took what he could get. I told him, of course, I had no intention to burn or
destroy anything except what my previous orders defined. I saw Wade Hampton's
cotton order printed in a Columbia paper, but kept no copy, as it was
notorious; for he openly declared that Yankee footsteps should not pollute his
threshold, and he commanded everything like corn fodder, etc., to be burnt,
lest we should get it. . . .
They boasted that we
would find a Moscow and its consequences.
The treatment of our
officers, prisoners at Columbia, was enough to have warranted its utter
annihilation, and after the fire began it required all our efforts to prevent its
extending to the suburbs, including the Old Hampton house, now owned by
Preston, brother-inlaw of Wade Hampton, which was saved by John Logan.
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