In Their Own Words
August 02, 1864
Encounter with Yankee Raiders Recorded in Diary
Dolly Lunt Burge, from Covington, Georgia, wrote in her diary of a face to face encounter with some Yankee raiders.
Just as I got out of bed this morning Aunt Julia [a slave] called me to look down the road and see the soldiers. I peeped through the blinds, and there they were, sure enough, the Yankees - the blue coats! I was not dressed. The servant women came running in. “Mistress, they are coming! They are coming! They are riding into the lot! There are two coming up the steps!” I bade Rachel [a slave] fasten my room door and go to the front door and ask them what they wanted. They did not wait for that, but came in and asked why my door was fastened. She told them that the white folks were not up. They said they wanted breakfast, and that quick, too. “Thug” [short for “Sugar,” the nickname of a little girl, Minnie Minerva Glass, now Mrs. Joe Carey Murphy of Charlotte, North Carolina, who had come to pass the night with Sadai] and Sadai, as well as myself, were greatly alarmed. As soon as I could get on my clothing I hastened to the kitchen to hurry up breakfast. Six of them were there talking with my women. They asked about our soldiers and, passing themselves off as Wheeler’s men, said: “Have you seen any of our men go by?” Several of Wheeler’s men passed last evening. Who are you?” said I. “We are a portion of Wheeler’s men,” said one. “You look like Yankees,” said I. “Yes,” said one, stepping up to me; “we are Yankees. Did you ever see one before?” “Not for a long time,” I replied, “and none such as you.” [These men, Mrs. Burge says further, were raiders, Illinois and Kentucky men of German origin. They left after breakfast, taking three of her best mules, but doing no further injury.] To-night Captain Smith of an Alabama regiment, and a squad of twenty men, are camped opposite in the field. They have all supped with me, and I shall breakfast with them. We have spent a pleasant evening with music and talk. They have a prisoner along. I can’t help feeling sorry for him.