and their Union? Let the poor
people answer whom they have deprived of every mouthful of meat and
of their livestock to make any! Our mills, too, they have burned,
destroying an immense amount of property.

* * * * *

AUGUST 2, 1864.

Just as I got out of bed this morning Aunt Julia [a slave] called me
to look down the road and see the soldiers. I peeped through the
blinds, and there they were, sure enough, the Yankees--the blue coats!

I was not dressed. The servant women came running in. "Mistress, they
are coming! They are coming! They are riding into the lot! There are
two coming up the steps!"

I bade Rachel [a slave] fasten my room door and go to the front door
and ask them what they wanted. They did not wait for that, but came
in and asked why my door was fastened. She told them that the white
folks were not up. They said they wanted breakfast, and that quick,
too.

"Thug" [short for "Sugar," the nickname of a little girl, Minnie
Minerva Glass, now Mrs. Joe Carey Murphy of Charlotte, North Carolina,
who had come to pass the night with Sadai] and Sadai, as well as
myself, were greatly alarmed. As soon as I could get on my clothing I
hastened to the kitchen to hurry up breakfast. Six of them were there
talking with my women. They asked about our soldiers and, passing
themselves off as Wheeler's men, said:

"Have you seen any of our men go by?"

"Several of Wheeler's men passed last evening. Who are you?" said I.

"We are a portion of Wheeler's men," said one.

"You look like Yankees," said I.

"Yes," said one, stepping up to me; "we are Yankees. Did you ever see
one before?"

"Not for a long time," I replied, "and none such as you." [These men,
Mrs. Burge says further, were raiders, Illinois and Kentucky men of
German origin. They left after breakfast, taking three of her best
mules, but doing no further injury.]

To-night Captain Smith of an Alabama regiment, and a squad of twenty
men, are camped opposite in the field. They have all supped with me,
and I shall breakfast with them. We have spent a pleasant evening with
music and talk. They have a prisoner along. I can't help feeling
sorry for him.

* * * * *

AUGUST 5, 1864.

Mr. Ward has been robbed by the Yankees of his watch, pencil, and
shirt.

* * *