you were at our house on Cooper River in 1845, you
gave me a book;" and she handed me the book in question, on the fly
leaf of which was written: "To Miss Poyas, with the compliments of
W. T. Sherman, First-lieutenant Third Artillery." She then
explained that, as our army approached Columbia, there was a doubt
in her mind whether the terrible Sherman who was devastating the
land were W. T. Sherman or T. W. Sherman, both known to be generals
in the Northern army; but, on the supposition that he was her old
acquaintance, when Wade Hampton's cavalry drew out of the city,
calling out that the Yankees were coming, she armed herself with
this book, and awaited the crisis. Soon the shouts about the
markethouse announced that the Yankees had come; very soon men were
seen running up and down the streets; a parcel of them poured over
the fence, began to chase the chickens and ducks, and to enter her
house. She observed one large man, with full beard, who exercised
some authority, and to him she appealed in the name of "his
general." "What do you know of Uncle Billy?" "Why," she said,
"when he was a young man he used to be our friend in Charleston,
and here is a book he gave me." The officer or soldier took the
book, looked at the inscription, and, turning to his fellows, said:
"Boys, that's so; that's Uncle Billy's writing, for I have seen it
often before." He at once commanded the party to stop pillaging,
and left a man in charge of the house, to protect her until the
regular provost-guard should be established. I then asked her if
the regular guard or sentinel had been as good to her. She assured
me that he was a very nice young man; that he had been telling her
all about his family in Iowa; and that at that very instant of time
he was in another room minding her baby. Now, this lady had good
sense and tact, and had thus turned aside a party who, in five
minutes more, would have rifled her premises of all that was good
to eat or wear. I made her a long social visit, and, before
leaving Columbia, gave her a half-tierce of rice and about one
hundred pounds of ham from our own mess-stores.

In like manner, that same evening I found in Mrs. Simons another
acquaintance--the wife of the brother of Hon. James Simons, of
Charleston, who had been Miss Wragg. When Columbia was on fire
that night, and her house in danger, I had her family and effects
carried to my own headquarters, gave them my own room and bed, and,
on leav