“From whom?” exclaimed one of the young girls of the house.
“The Feds, to be sure,” said another, half laughing and half shamefaced.
“Oh! shame on you!” cried the ladies; “and you running!”
“It’s all Pem’s fault,” said an awkward, long-limbed, weary-looking man.
“It’s all your own fault. Why don’t you stand your ground?” was the reply.
“Shame on you all!” cried some of the ladies across the street, becoming excited.
I could not but feel sorry for the poor worn fellows, who did seem indeed heartily ashamed of themselves; some without arms, having probably lost them in the first break of the companies.
“We are disappointed in you!” cried some of the ladies. “Who shall we look to now for protection?”
“Oh!” said one of them, “it’s the first time I ever ran. We are Georgians, and we never ran before; but we saw them all breaking and running, and we could not bear up alone.”
We asked them if they did not want water; and some of them came in the yard to get it. The lady of the house offered them some supper; and while they were eating, we were so much interested, that we stood around questioning them about the result of the day. “It is all General Pemberton’s fault,” said a sergeant. “I’m a Missourian, and our boys stood it almost alone, not knowing what was wanted to be done; yet, fighting as long as possible, every one leaving us, and we were obliged to fall back. You know, madam, we Missourians always fight well, even if we have to retreat afterward.”