there was a doubt in her mind whether the terrible Sherman who was devastating the land were W. T. Sherman or T. W. Sherman, both known to be generals in the Northern army; but, on the supposition that he was her old acquaintance, when Wade Hampton’s cavalry drew out of the city, calling out that the Yankees were coming, she armed herself with this book, and awaited the crisis.  Soon the shouts about the markethouse announced that the Yankees had come; very soon men were seen running up and down the streets; a parcel of them poured over the fence, began to chase the chickens and ducks, and to enter her house.  She observed one large man, with full beard, who exercised some authority, and to him she appealed in the name of “his general.”  “What do you know of Uncle Billy?” “Why,” she said, “when he was a young man he used to be our friend in Charleston, and here is a book he gave me.”  The officer or soldier took the book, looked at the inscription, and, turning to his fellows, said:  “Boys, that’s so; that’s Uncle Billy’s writing, for I have seen it often before.”  He at once commanded the party to stop pillaging, and left a man in charge of the house, to protect her until the regular provost-guard should be established.  I then asked her if the regular guard or sentinel had been as good to her.  She assured me that he was a very nice young man; that he had been telling her all about his family in Iowa; and that at that very instant of time he was in another room minding her baby.  Now, this lady had good sense and tact, and had thus turned aside a party who, in five minutes more, would have rifled her premises of all that was good to eat or wear.  I made her a long social visit, and, before leaving Columbia, gave her a half-tierce of rice and about one hundred pounds of ham from our own mess-stores.

In like manner, that same evening I found in Mrs. Simons another acquaintance—­the wife of the brother of Hon. James Simons, of Charleston, who had been Miss Wragg.  When Columbia was on fire that night, and her house in danger, I had her family and effects carried to my own headquarters, gave them my own room and bed, and, on leaving Columbia the next day, supplied her with a half-barrel of hams and a half-tierce of rice.  I mention these specific facts to show that, personally, I had no malice or desire to destroy that city or its inhabitants, as is generally believed at the South.

Having walked over much of the suburbs of Columbia in the afternoon, and being tired, I lay down on a bed in Blanton Duncan’s house to rest.  Soon after dark I became conscious that a bright light was shining on the walls; and, calling some one of my staff (Major Nichols, I think) to inquire the cause, he said there seemed to be a house on fire down about the market-house.  The same high wind still prevailed, and, fearing the consequences, I bade him go in person to see if the provost-guard were doing its duty.  He soon returned, and reported that the block of