specific facts
to show that, personally, I had no malice or desire to destroy that
city or its inhabitants, as is generally believed at the South.

Having walked over much of the suburbs of Columbia in the
afternoon, and being tired, I lay down on a bed in Blanton Duncan's
house to rest. Soon after dark I became conscious that a bright
light was shining on the walls; and, calling some one of my staff
(Major Nichols, I think) to inquire the cause, he said there seemed
to be a house on fire down about the market-house. The same high
wind still prevailed, and, fearing the consequences, I bade him go
in person to see if the provost-guard were doing its duty. He soon
returned, and reported that the block of buildings directly
opposite the burning cotton of that morning was on fire, and that
it was spreading; but he had found General Woods on the ground,
with plenty of men trying to put the fire out, or, at least, to
prevent its extension. The fire continued to increase, and the
whole heavens became lurid. I dispatched messenger after messenger
to Generals Howard, Logan, and Woods, and received from them
repeated assurances that all was being done that could be done, but
that the high wind was spreading the flames beyond all control.
These general officers were on the ground all night, and Hazen's
division had been brought into the city to assist Woods's division,
already there. About eleven o'clock at night I went down-town
myself, Colonel Dayton with me; we walked to Mr. Simons's house,
from which I could see the flames rising high in the air, and could
hear the roaring of the fire. I advised the ladies to move to my
headquarters, had our own headquarter-wagons hitched up, and their
effects carried there, as a place of greater safety. The whole air
was full of sparks and of flying masses of cotton, shingles, etc.,
some of which were carried four or five blocks, and started new
fires. The men seemed generally under good control, and certainly
labored hard to girdle the fire, to prevent its spreading; but, so
long as the high wind prevailed, it was simply beyond human
possibility. Fortunately, about 3 or 4 a.m., the wind moderated,
and gradually the fire was got under control; but it had burned out
the very heart of the city, embracing several churches, the old
State-House, and the school or asylum of that very Sister of
Charity who had appealed for my personal protection. Nickerson's
Hotel, in which several of my