th mother and
Dellie to follow next day. About sunset, Charlie came flying down the
road, on his way to town. I decided to go, and after an obstinate
debate with mother, in which I am afraid I showed more determination
than amiability, I wrung a reluctant consent from her, and, promising
not to enter if it was being fired or plundered, drove off in triumph.
It was a desperate enterprise for a young girl, to enter a town full of
soldiers on such an expedition at night; but I knew Charlie could take
care of me, and if he was killed I could take care of myself; so I
went.

It was long after nine when we got there, and my first act was to look
around the deserted house. What a scene of confusion! armoirs spread
open, with clothes tumbled in every direction, inside and out; ribbons,
laces on floors; chairs overturned; my desk wide open covered with
letters, trinkets, etc.; bureau drawers half out, the bed filled with
odds and ends of everything. I no longer recognized my little room. On
the bolster was a little box, at the sight of which I burst out
laughing. Five minutes before the alarm, Miriam had been selecting
those articles she meant to take to Greenwell, and, holding up her box,
said, "If we were forced to run for our lives without a moment's
warning, I'd risk my life to save this, rather than leave it!" Yet here
lay the box, and she was safe at Greenwell!

It took me two hours to pack father's papers, then I packed Miriam's
trunk, then some of mother's and mine, listening all the while for a
cannon; for men were constantly tramping past the house, and only on
condition our guerrillas did not disturb them had they promised not to
recommence the shelling. Charlie went out to hear the news, and I
packed alone.

It seems the only thing that saved the town was two gentlemen who rowed
out to the ships, and informed the illustrious commander that there
were no men there to be hurt, and he was only killing women and
children. The answer was, "He was sorry he had hurt them; he thought of
course the town had been evacuated before the men were fools enough to
fire on them, and had only shelled the principal streets to intimidate
the people." These streets were the very ones crowded with flying women
and children, which they must have seen with their own eyes, for those
lying parallel to the river led to the Garrison at one end and the
crevasse at the other, which cut off all the lower roads, so that the
streets he shelled w