Thursday, March 30th. Mr. Stevens called this afternoon. It seems like old times again, his bright and cheerful view of things has cheered us wonderfully.
Friday, March 31st. We all walked over to Pooshee this morning; it is too sweet to feel so secure again, altho’ still a little uneasy; things are falling back into their old routine.
April 2, Sunday. Such a treat! Our own dear service read by our own minister, in the old church! Such a display of mules, even those who had saved their horses were afraid to use them. Mr. Stevens lectured on Job’s trials, truly his motto is, “Think and Thank.”
Moved upstairs tonight. We all have been camping out down stairs since the night of the black Yankees.
Wednesday, April 5th. Mother, Aunt Nenna and I with Willie for driver rode over to Chelsea[54] this afternoon in an ox-cart. The whole family were in the piazza to receive us, quite amused at our primitive equipage.
Thursday, April 6. Willie drove me home to-day in the buggy,—so pleasant, the woods are beautiful with a wealth of jessamine, dog-wood and crab-apple flowers, while the air is balmy with fragrance of thousands of blossoms. The last day of Willie’s stay here has been truly delightful. Tonight we sat late in the piazza, everything so lovely! I forgot there was war and bloodshed all around us.
Saturday, April 8. Thank, God, Willie has gone! Father and Mother spent yesterday with him at Cedar Grove, sending him on in the afternoon to The Rocks[55] for the night.
Last night a squad of eight men rode up saying they were our scouts; that the Yankees had almost surrounded them at Somerset.[56] You may guess our terror altho’ Father and Aunt Nenna were firmly persuaded they were Yankees spying out the land. It is customary for folks to entertain the scouts, Aunt Nenna never even offered them a drink of water. The Captain actually got off his horse and told Father to listen and we would hear the drums beating at Somerset. I was listening for the drum all night (moved downstairs again); hardly closing my eyes. This morning was grateful for one thing, Willie was safe! I could think of little else. I don’t think Father really believed the enemy were near until at breakfast table, looking out the window we saw two pillars of smoke rising from the direction of Somerset. It was mill day, the engine in full blast and all our remaining stock in the way of mules, wagons &c. were assembled around the door. Father wished to order Harry, who had just driven in from Cedar Grove with the only horse left us, * * * to turn back, but it was too late. From up the avenue and across the fields came two squads of blue-coats at a mad gallop, like a very whirl wind, and before we could think, the Yankees were on us! Riding around the house, some to the stables, some to the mill, they scoured the place and the house, taking all the harness except some belonging to the old buggy. They took grist and poultry, shooting down the latter about the yard.
Richie White was with us; he was very much freightened. I had gathered all the children in my room upstairs; every time I would go near the window, he would implore me to come back. Some of these wretches had prepared themselves for plunder, having their pants’ pockets below their knees. They carried off all wagons, mules and carts; cleaned the store room of all hams &c. we had hidden; knocked down all the geese they could. Our red-faced friend, who has been on every raid, was here again and distinguished himself in the pilfering line; took a box with Uncle Henry’s letters. His buggy blanket was next seized, and finished off by pocketing Willie’s flute, which “would do to blow along the road,” he said. The officer came upstairs making noise enough to scare all the children as he had on not only his own sword and spurs, but Uncle Henry’s dragging behind him. Mother had all Father’s clothes in a trunk in the entry, but he passed that by going into Mother’s room. Noticed Father’s tin box of papers; then to the press; Mother trembled, as the silver we were using was all hidden in her dresses, but finding no man’s clothes,—with some most contemptuous expression about “her using the poor old man so badly, having so much more clothes,” he left, only stopping at my room door, not coming in.
One of the men rushed up before leaving and carried off the blanket from the boys’ bed.