July 15.—We have had an anxious time within the last few days. On the 13th instant a scout brought word that the Federal cavalry had captured a number of men guarding Moore’s Bridge, some twelve miles distant, and that in large force they were advancing on the town.
The post commandant, Colonel Griffin, telegraphed to General Johnston, requesting him to send troops here. He then collected all the men from the hospitals who were able for duty, and sent them, under the command of a Kentucky captain, to meet the foe.
We all went to work to prepare for the enemy’s reception. The first thing done was to send into the woods the negroes, poultry, cattle, convalescents, and all the nurses, excepting those actually needed to take care of the sick.
A wagon was loaded with all the valuables and sent to parts unknown. We had valises packed with a few clothes, and baskets filled with provisions, in case we should be compelled to take to the woods. We have been told that the enemy burn every hospital building, and we had no idea that they would show us any mercy. We packed our trunks, and concluded to remain in the hospital, thinking it might be as safe a place as any.
We had a large quantity of whisky, which we were afraid to keep, for fear if the enemy should get it they would act worse than without it, so it was sent to the woods.
All the surgeons left except Dr. Hughes, who remained at his post. The excitement in town was very great. I do not suppose there was an eye closed all night. On looking out we could see lights all over the place, the people moving every thing that was movable.
About 12 at midnight, Miss W. concluded to go down to her aunt’s, living near West Point. The train was expected from Atlanta at 2 A. M. She got ready, and some of the men carried her baggage to the depot. I started with her; on our way down we met a gentleman, who informed us that the train would not be down, as the conductor was fearful of its being captured. We sat up all night long, and it was a night of dread. Every now and again some one came into town telling us that the enemy were but a few miles off. Every little noise we heard, we made sure they had come. A man came in and told us that they were on the outskirts of the town, waiting for daylight.
Next morning—the 14th—we waited in vain for the enemy; I thought I never had heard of cavalry taking so long to come a few miles. Our head cook did not leave, saying he was tired of running. We had about sixty badly wounded men, who had to have something to eat; so, having no cooks, we all went to work and got breakfast ready, fully expecting the Yankees to eat it instead of our men.
After breakfast there was still no tidings of the foe. We went to work and prepared dinner; Miss W. peeling potatoes and shelling peas, etc., all the time wondering if the Yankees would like their dinner, as we knew that they would not be backward in helping themselves; but by dinner-time the joyful tidings arrived that General Johnston had sent cavalry and driven them back.
We breathe free again, but only for a little while, as I do not see what is to prevent them coming in at any time. The men are coming back very much exhausted. The negro women are nearly all sick, and vowing they will never run again. One old woman, who, I am certain, the enemy could not be paid to take, is nearly dead. The women carried all their clothes with them, as they hear the Federals rob black as well as white. Many an amusing story is related about the hiding.
It is a blessing we can laugh, for this great anxiety is enough to kill any one. I can not help wishing that our kind northern friends, who love us so dearly that they will have us unite with them, whether we will or no, only had a little of it.
