“The beautiful homesteads of the parish country, with their wonderful tropical gardens, were ruined; ancient dwellings of black cypress, one hundred years old, which had been reared by the fathers of the Republic,—men whose names were famous in Revolutionary history,—were given to the torch as recklessly as were the rude hovels; choice pictures and works of art from Europe, select and numerous libraries, objects of peace wholly, were all destroyed. The inhabitants, black no less than white, were left to starve, compelled to feed only upon the garbage to be found in the abandoned camps of the soldiers. The corn scraped up from the spots where the horses fed, has been the only means of life left to thousands but lately in affluence. The villages of Buford’s Bridge, of Barnwell, Blackville, Graham’s, Bamberg, Midway, were more or less destroyed; the inhabitants everywhere left homeless and without food. The horses and mules, all cattle and hogs, whenever fit for service or for food, were carried off, and the rest shot. Every implement of the workman or the farmer, tools, ploughs, hoes, gins, looms, wagons, vehicles, was made to feed the flames.”
Passing northward through the State, by the way of Orangeburg, Columbia, and Winnsboro’, I heard, all along the route, stories corroborative of the general truthfulness of this somewhat highly colored picture. The following, related to me by a lady residing in Orangeburg District, will serve as a sample of these detailed narratives.
“The burning of the bridges by the Confederates, as the Yankees were chasing them, did no good, but a deal of harm. They couldn’t stop such an army as Sherman’s, but all they could do was to hinder it, and keep it a few days longer in the country, eating us up.
“It was the best disciplined army in the world. At sundown, not a soldier was to be seen, and you could rest in peace till morning. That convinces me that everything that was done was permitted, if not ordered.
“I had an old cook with me,—one of the best old creatures you ever saw. She had a hard master before we bought her, and she carried the marks on her face and hands where he had thrown knives at her. Such treatment as she got from us was something new to her; and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for us, in return.
“’For heaven’s sake, missus,’ says she, ‘bury some flour for the chil’n!’ I gave her the keys to the smoke-house, and told her to do what she pleased. ‘Send all the niggers off the place but me and my son,’ she says, ‘for I don’t trust ’em.’ Then she and her son buried two barrels of flour, the silver pitcher and goblets, and a box of clothes. But that night she dreamed that the Yankees came and found the place; so the next morning she went and dug up all the things but the flour, which she hadn’t time to remove, and buried them under the hog-pen. Sure enough, when the Yankees came, they found the flour, but her dream saved the rest. She was afraid they would get hold of her son, and make him tell, so she kept him in the chimney-corner, right under her eyes, all day, pretending he was sick.
“Some of the negroes were very much excited by the Yankees’ coming. One of our black girls jumped up and shouted, ‘Glory to God! de Yankees is comin’ to marry all we niggers!’ But they generally behaved very well. A black man named Charles, belonging to one of our neighbors, started with a load of goods, and flanked the Yankees for three days, and eluded them.
“A good many houses were burned in our neighborhood. Some that were occupied were set on fire two or three times, and the inhabitants put them out. The Yankees set the woods on fire, and we should have all been burnt up, if our negroes hadn’t dug trenches to keep the flames from reaching the buildings. General Sherman and his staff stopped at the house of a man of the name of Walker, in Barnwell District. While Mr. Walker was thanking him for protecting his property, he turned around, and saw the house on fire. General Sherman was very indignant. Said he, ‘If I could learn who did that, he should meet with condign punishment!’
“The foragers broke down all the broadside of our barn, and let the corn out; then they broke down all the broadside of the garden, and drove in. We had three hundred bushels of corn; and they took all but fifty bushels; they told me to hide that away. We had three barrels of syrup, and they took all but one gallon. They took eight thousand pounds of fodder, and three barrels of flour, all we had. We had twelve hundred pounds of bacon, and the soldiers took all but three pieces, which they said they left for the rest to take. We had twelve bushels of rough-rice; they left us three; and afterwards soldiers came in and threw shot in it, and mixed all up with sugar.