Friday, March 3rd. A most exciting night of horror! While I was writing yesterday afternoon another squad of three Yankees rode up in search of saddles and bridles. They were very rude; said we might as well tell where things were and save their rummaging, and then rode off. Aunt Nenna, having found some cold waffles actually left we were quickly seated enjoying (?) our supper thinking our trials over for the day, when we heard many heavy steps in the entry, a rough knock at the door; a rude voice; “how are you this evening, I say, how are you this evening?” The open door revealed the entry full of negro Yankees, armed to the teeth and all drunk enough to do mischief. Mother, who is in constant dread of Rene’s being seized on account of his age, altho’ so small, motioned him into the back room, (Aunt Nenna’s chamber), where the children had all run to hide. The negro sergeant, a coal black giant of six feet, immediately demanded what the boy was after and called him back. Aunt Nenna, with much presence of mind went to the door and brought out Charles Stevens. The sergeant was very insulting in his language. He demanded all fire arms, which were given him; then he wanted wine; said he had been told we had some, and would get it out of Father. Called for a rope and ordered a squad of men to carry him and string him up if he would not give up the liquor. Mother threw herself on her knees pleading for Father’s life. The wretch spurned her with his foot, and told her to behave herself like a woman and he would treat her like one. Mother was so overcome we had to get her into Aunt Nenna’s room. One of the men came to the door and told me: “Speak to the lady and make yourselves satisfied he wouldn’t let Father be hurt”;--with this small comfort I went to Mother. To add to our troubles Mother remembered a phial of brandy up stairs saved for Father’s use. If the wretches found it, what would become of us? Mother could not move; the children were clinging to her; the difficulties of the way; a long black entry full of drunken devils; then another entry above full of unknown horrors. We waited until most of the Yankees had left the house. Liz[23] offered to go with me; holding on to each other we treaded on our way, scarcely daring to think, we reached the room safely. Rose Washington,[24] who had been faithful, followed us; the guard were all around the house. We were afraid to throw the phial out, when we got it. Rose proposed breaking it in a bucket of water and carrying the bucket down on her head. She did her part well, badgering the men she met and answering their questions. I followed with Liz so grateful when we got to Mother. I can’t tell the words and doings of the Devils, but soon after we got back, our “friend” came to the door to say Father was all right; none of us had sense to do the right thing, but poor little Liz who stepped up and shook the man’s hand thanking him. The men had all