embarrassed by a large number in the passenger-car. At
last, as we approached Atlanta, I heard the continuous and terrific
noise of the bombardment. The whistle of the engine was a signal to
the enemy, who at once began to shell the depot. I did not realize the
danger yet, but just as the train "slowed up" heard a shrieking sound,
and saw the soldiers begin to dodge. Before I could think twice, an
awful explosion followed; the windows were all shivered, and the earth
seemed to me to be thrown in cart-loads into the car. Tempe screamed
loudly, and then began to pray. I was paralyzed with extreme terror,
and _could_ not scream. Before I could speak, another shell exploded
overhead, tearing off the corner of a brick store, causing again a
deafening racket. As we glided into the station, I felt safer; but
soon found out that every one around me had business to attend to, and
that I must rely upon myself.

The shells still shrieked and exploded; the more treacherous and
dangerous solid shot continually demolished objects within our sight.
For a few hours I was so utterly demoralized that my only thought was
how to escape. It seemed to me _impossible_ that any body of soldiers
could voluntarily expose themselves to such horrible danger. I thought
if _I_ had been a soldier I must have deserted from my first
battle-field. But at last I grew calmer; my courage returned, and,
urged by the necessity of finding shelter, I ventured out. Not a place
could I find. The houses were closed and deserted, in many cases
partly demolished by shot or shell, or, having taken fire, charred,
smoking, and burnt to the ground.

All day frightened women and children cowered and trembled and
hungered and thirsted in their underground places of refuge while the
earth above them shook with constant explosions. After a while I grew
quite bold, and decided to stow myself and my boxes in the lower part
of a house not far from the depot. The upper story had been torn off
by shells. I could look through large holes in the ceiling up to the
blue sky. The next move was to find means of notifying my husband and
his friends of my arrival. I crept along the streets back to the
depot, Tempe creeping by my side, holding fast to my dress. Then I
found an officer just going out to the trenches, and sent by him a
pencilled note to Lieutenant Cluverius, thinking an officer would be
likely to receive a communication, when a private might not. Soon
after sunset, my