April 19.—The enemy did not come last night; but I expect they will honor us to-day. We are ready to receive them. Dr. Bemiss has gone to Atlanta. I could scarcely bid him good-by; it seems so sad to think of a man like him running from such wretches.
Mrs. F. has tried her best to frighten me; but the more terrible her stories, the stronger my nerves become. This I can not account for. I opened a prayer-book, and my eye fell on the twenty-seventh psalm: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear,” etc. I read it aloud, and from it we both gained strength. I do not think it was accident made me turn to those appropriate and comforting words — however some may laugh and say so. My faith is strong in the belief that there is an unseen hand directing all our ways.
Dr. Horton called this morning with a young lady, Miss Bailey, who requested Mrs. F. and myself to go and stay with her, as she was in a large house, and no one with her but negroes. If she left it, it would be certain to be destroyed by the enemy. Neither of us could go. I felt very sorry for her, as she can get no one in the place to go with her. All are remaining at home to take care of their property. Her parents are on a visit to South-west Georgia; and so, like many other families, they are separated.
Night.—The enemy marched in about 5 P. M. I have just been on the gallery, watching the burning of the warehouse, and the sad work of destruction is still going on. We hear the sound of axes, and suppose they are tearing up the railroad track. I thank the Giver of all good that I have been enabled to look calmly on the destruction without one feeling of revenge. I gazed up at the heavy columns of smoke ascending to heaven as if pleading in our behalf; I felt that it was incense rising from a sacrifice, and ascended with the prayers of the saints, which I knew had been offered up on every altar from the Potomac to the Rio Grande in behalf of our down-trodden and desolated land—and that God in his own good time would avenge our wrongs.
One of the enemy rode coolly through the place with his rifle in front of his saddle. I could not but admire his daring, for he was at least a quarter of a mile away from his band, and if any of our men had felt disposed, they might have made way with him, and his comrades never have known what became of him. I wonder if that would be called murder or self-defense? He came hero to kill and rob, and all have a right to defend themselves and property as best they can. This man called at the back door of a house near by, and asked the negro servant for something to eat, which was given him. After awhile an officer galloped past us and rode up to the college, where Dr. de Yampert and Dr. Burks sat, like stoics, ready to receive their distinguished visitor. Dr. de Y. rose on his approach, and conversed with him awhile. He then rode off, looking behind every now and again, as if expecting a stray bullet from some concealed musket.
Mrs. F. and I wondered what he had said to Dr. de Y. We made up our minds he had come to order the sick away, as he meant to fire the building; or, perhaps, with the pleasing information that Dr. de Y. and all the rest of the men were prisoners. We were left to conjecture, for Dr. de Y. did not have the least pity upon us. He certainly knew that we had inherited at least a little of mother Eve’s frailty.
I went over to the hospital to view the fire from the upper gallery. I asked Dr. de Y. if they were going to burn the building; if so, our house would not escape, and we wished to move our clothes. Ho said he did not know what the enemy intended doing, but advised us not to do any thing, it being too late, as our doing so would attract attention.
This evening Dr. B. called, and told us that the Federal officer merely asked how many patients we had, and passed the compliments of the day. I know they were reciprocated.
