“This was like fanning the flame. They rushed upon the house, firing indiscriminately. The General was shot three times and fell dead. His little daughter, with her arms about his neck, received a shot in her left breast, from which she died in a few minutes. His neighbor, Gibson, was as brutally murdered in the house, being riddled with bullets. Old Ham ran out of the kitchen to make his escape and was shot dead in the yard. Mary Anderson fell senseless to the floor. Old Aunt Martha was the only soul left to do anything. She was on her knees praying while the mob was doing their desperate and bloody work. They retired yelling like Indians after taking scalps. Poor old Martha ran to one of the neighbors for help, but could get none from white people. A few old colored people gathered at the house and cared as best they could for the dead.
“For two days this family of dead and stricken lay without a white person coming to the house to aid or assist. The enemies would not, and the few friends were afraid to do so. The General, little Mary, and Mr. Gibson were buried by the colored people in the best manner they could. Mary Anderson became a raving maniac and died in about one week after, and was buried by the side of her husband and daughter, a minister and a few women having come to look after her since the interment of the other dead. Old Ham was laid away by the colored people. Aunt Martha was grieved beyond expression, and alarmed for fear she also would be murdered. She prayed night and day to be brought back to her 'Marsa Lyon.'
“The colored people, having great respect for the General and his family, made up money enough to send Aunt Martha back to my house. A young colored man ventured to come with her, for which I remunerated him. This poor old woman's story was enough to melt the most obdurate heart. She talked constantly of the General, his wife, little Mary, and poor old Ham, and felt that the 'good Laud' had deserted them for some reason.”
We were all dumfounded at the recital of these barbarous murders.
“My God!” exclaimed Dr. Adams, “what is this people coming to?”
Col. Bush shed tears, but could not speak. All were silent. Uncle Daniel left the room, but returned in a few moments and said:
“My friends, you can now see why I so often have said, 'What have I to live for?' Why should I desire to remain here and brood over my great misfortunes and sorrows longer?”
Finally Col. Bush walked the floor, and in a most subdued tone, said: “For such a man and so noble a family to die in such a villainous manner! Did no one suffer punishment for this diabolical crime?”
“No, not one was punished. The matter was investigated, but that was all.”