of her husband's death has unbalanced her mind." "There
lays the woman," said another, taking the minister by the hand and
leading him to where--cold and lifeless--the body of the woman with that
of the new-born babe by its side. The poor, demented creature had taken
a seat upon a stump beside the corpse, and was moaning and wringing her
hands. "Lord, be merciful!" exclaimed the minister, with clasped hands.
"They are all about here," said another woman; "these are not all that
have died during the night." We busied ourselves in giving such comfort
as lay in our power. In our search among the bushes we came across
several dead and others dying from the night's exposure. So thoroughly
frightened were these people that we could not induce them to believe it
safe to venture back to their own homes. The situation was indeed
appalling. On our way into the city we met some humane whites going out
to persuade the frightened refugees back.

The 10th day of November, 1898, can never be forgotten. I will not close
this narrative without mentioning an act of bravery performed by a lone
woman which stopped the vulgar and inhuman searching of women in our
section of the city. The most atrocious and unpardonable act of the mob
was the wanton disregard for womanhood. Lizzie Smith was the first woman
to make a firm and stubborn stand against the proceeding in the southern
section. It was near the noon hour when Lizzie, homeward bound, reached
the corner of Orange and Third streets. A block away she saw a woman
struggling to free herself from the grasp of several men who were, in
turn, slapping her face and otherwise abusing her. The woman fought
until her clothes were torn to shreds; then with a shove the men allowed
her to proceed on her way. Lizzie could have saved herself by running
away, but anger at such cowardice had chased away every vestige of fear.
She leisurely walked up to where the fight was going on. "Halt," said
one of the ruffians to Lizzie, "an' let's see how many razors you got
under them duds. That tother wench was er walkin' arsennel. Come now!"
roared the man, "none er your cussed impert'nence." Lizzie, instead of
assaying to comply, akimbowed and looked defiantly at the crowd about
her. "Oh, yo' po' white trash." "Shut up or we'll settle you an' have
done with it," said the leader, making a motion toward his hip pocket.
"Yo' will, eh!" answered the girl, "yo' kan't skeer me. But ef yo'
wanter search me I'll take off