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Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 5 (search)
known among his friends] came to tell us that Garnett was wounded in the fight at Salisbury, N. C. Mr. Saile brought the news from Augusta, but could give no particulars except that his wound was not considered dangerous, and that his galvanized Yanks behaved badly, as anybody might have known they would. A little later the mail brought a letter from Gen. Gardiner, his commanding officer, entirely relieving our fears for his personal safety. He is a prisoner, but will soon be paroled. When of truce, which had been sent out by some (pretended) cavalrymen who had plundered a government specie wagon at the Savannah River and professed to be hunting for Yankees to whom they might surrender. Garnett says he does not think there are any Yanks within forty miles of Abbeville, though as the grape vine is our only telegraph, we know nothing with certainty. Boys and negroes and sportsmen are taking advantage of the ammunition scattered broadcast by the pillaging of the ordnance stores, t
Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, V. In the dust and ashes of defeat (may 6-June 1, 1865). (search)
of land and 900 negroes, besides plantations in Texas-and now, he hasn't money enough to pay his way home. He is very fond of cigarettes, and I keep both him and Capt. Hudson supplied with them. The captain taught me how to roll them, and I have become so skilful that I can make them like we used to knit socks, without looking at what I am doing. Gen. Elzey called after tea, and I failed to recognize him at first, because he had on a white jacket, and there is such a strange mixture of Yanks and Rebs in town that I am suspicious of every man who doesn't wear a gray coat. The moon was shining in my eyes and blinded me as I met the general at the head of the steps, and I kept a sour face, intended for a possible Yankee intruder, till he caught my hand and spoke; then we both laughed. Our laughter, however, was short-lived; we spent a miserable evening in the beautiful moonlight that we knew was shining on the ruin of our country. Capt. Irwin made heroic efforts to keep up his
Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 8 (search)
uesday Gen. Wild's negro bodyguard left this morning, and it is said we are to be rid of the tyrant himself to-morrow. Col. Drayton is reported as saying that he would not like to be in Wild's place when he gets back to Augusta, and bitterly censures his conduct. There seems to be some sense of decency left among the Yankee army officers, even yet. This Col. Drayton is evidently a gentleman. Bless his heart, I feel as if I should really like to shake hands with him. Our town is full of Yanks, and new ones coming in every day. The last to arrive is a staff officer There is obviously some error here as to the official title of the person referred. from the War Department. Something of importance must be on foot, but of course we, who are most nearly concerned, know not what. We see the splendidly-equipped officers dashing about the streets, and think bitterly of the days when our own ragged rebels were there instead, but we never have time to think long before the storm burs