"The Yankees are Here!"

Wednesday, December 23, 1863, Charlottesville

If ever I am granted a furlough again, I think that I will refuse it. All the good that has happened to me during the many days of this current one is far outweighed by the events of one night and one day. As I sit here in the railroad station awaiting a connection to Richmond, I can finally collect my thoughts and transfer them to this diary.

It was Tuesday of last week that Miss Kimberly, riding like the very Devil was after her, came to the Hofauger place to warn us all that the Yankees were coming. She stayed only long enough to tell us and like a whirlwind, she rode off again. Although it was after dark, I hitched up my hired horse and wagon, said my good-byes to the Hofaugers, warning them that they themselves may have to leave their place to the torches of the Yankees, and left as fast as the old horse could move. Elizabeth had tears in her eyes. I could only hope that whatever forces we could rally could stop the Yankees before my kind hosts could be harmed.

It was all the horse could do to maintain a trot. For short periods, she could gallop but that was dangerous to both horse and wagon let alone the driver. After a gallop, she had to rest by walking slowly for quite some time. I roundly cursed her but there was nothing more the poor beast could do.

Very early on the morning of the sixteenth, we arrived at Salem, finding the entire town in a fearful frenzy. A townsman said that the Yankees were bound for this place with murder, fire and destruction their objectives. He further said that all of the stores held at scattered places around town were being moved to the station so that they could be hurried away by train. These supplies were both for Lee's army in Virginia and Bragg's army in Tennessee.

About the same time that this citizen ran off, a mounted staff officer came next to my wagon. He introduced himself as Captain Porteaux of the Quartermaster's Department. He said that my wagon was needed and ordered me to proceed to a government warehouse where supplies may be loaded and take them with all due haste to the station. I was to repeat this until this particular warehouse was empty and then report for further orders.

I proceeded to the McClanahan's store where several other wagons were loading with the help of some Negroes whom I took for slaves as they were not working with any sort of urgency. Once loaded, I hastily went to the station whereupon the horse dropped dead. It was too much for her.
Although it was far beyond dark by this time, the lights of Salem were blazing everywhere. One could read a newspaper or make a diary entry by the light.

As we were about finished with the wagon, I was wondering if there was another horse that could help me fulfill my orders. There then rode up a staff major, Green, who, seeing the dead horse still in the traces asked what regiment I was with. I explained that I was on furlough and he reprimanded me for not having my musket with me. Staff officers know nothing of such things but at that moment, I did wish that I had not left my musket and ammunition with the Ordnance Sergeant in Virginia.

He ordered me to report to a Doctor Bittle at Roanoke College and take charge of the home guard there. He ordered me to take the guard north along the Catawba Road as that was where the Yankees were supposed to be coming from and mount a defense until re-inforcements arrived.

This Doctor Bittle had raised the Roanoke College Home Guard, comprised of the students. Doctor Bittle explained that most of the students were away for the holidays but he presented me with six who were ready to do their duty. All were under eighteen; one was fifteen. They were military in name only. Four of the six were armed with fowling pieces; the other two had nothing to shoot with. None had rations or a canteen. One had no ramrod for his fowler. With this we were to stop seasoned Yankee cavalry.

It was daylight by this time so at least we could see the enemy. We had not gone far, we were still in town when the cry, "The Yankees are here!" was heard and passed from throat to throat towards our little phalanx. At the same time that I heard hoofbeats approaching, I turned to instruct the six only to find that they had vanished. As I had no weapon, I tried to vanish, as well.

The Globe Tavern was the closest structure so there I went. Bounding up the stairs, I heard the Yankee cavalry pass close behind on the street. Amidst the yelling and screaming of the citizens could be heard the rattle of sabers and the commands of officers.

From a well-appointed room on the top floor, I peered through curtains at the unfolding spectacle. The raiders split into various parties, one going to the telegraph office inside the post office. Some others continued west to where I do not know. The main body rode to the station which was overflowing with supplies. I heard a few pistol shots and some artillery in the distance. I had hoped that the artillery meant that our own cavalry had arrived but later was informed that it belonged to the raiders. They had shot up a train arriving from Lynchburg.

It wasn't long after taking refuge that great clouds of smoke could be seen in the direction of the station. We had worked all night long to assemble the supplies there so that a train could whack them away ahead of the raiders but there was no train. All we did was put the supplies in one place and make it easy for the Yankees to destroy. Though it was daylight, flames could be seen and a great deal of smoke. There were explosions which I took for ammunition being destroyed. I crouched and I watched, feeling an overwhelming sense of uselessness and frustration.

It seemed that the Yankees had been burning forever but when they assembled to leave, I glanced at the clock in my room. They had arrived some six hours earlier and then they left by the way that they entered, the Catawba Road. It was near darkness when I emerged from my hotel refuge. The only substantial light was from the burning depot. When the wind was just wrong, I received a lungful of smoke. Embers were coming down, glowing less and less as they fluttered to the ground.

For a moment, I debated whether to stay or go. Certainly there was a need for me to stay and help but my furlough was ending. I chose to accept the risk of arrest and stay. At once, I was thrown into a fire brigade passing buckets of water to the station. There was a possibility of being killed by exploding ammunition but the fire had to be put out. I saw only white faces on the line. I saw no Negroes. I figured that they left with the Yankees.

When, several hours into the night, the burning station was only smoldering, half of us, including myself, were relieved from fire duty. We were all taken to the Globe and quartered for the night. For supper, we were fed salt beef and hardtack washed down with something called coffee. We were told to get plenty of sleep as on the morrow, we would become a track gang.

On that morrow, we were divided into two gangs. One would go east towards Lynchburg and one west, towards Bristol. I was happy to be detailed to the east gang as that was the direction of Lee's army and my regiment. There were no locomotives in Salem so tools and supplies for repairing the track were loaded on platform cars and pushed along that track that was still good. We were informed that the Yankees had tore up track in both directions out of Salem, about ten miles or so to the west and some five miles to the east. I was put on one of the platform cars to operate the brake lest it get away.

We spent the next two days repairing the track. We were given a sense or urgency to our work due to the importance of keeping our western and eastern armies supplied and in communication with one another. This was no easy task. Many of the rails had been placed on piles of ties and burned until the rails could be tied around a tree. We had so very few tools to straighten the rails and I use the term straighten with reservation.

Some rails were beyond our miserable efforts. As there were few good rails to be had, some of the rails from sidings in Salem were taken up, loaded onto the platform cars and pushed to the end of track. On the first day, we heard a train in the direction of Lynchburg. We did not know it at the time but it was a repair train, working from the other direction. Their locomotive roundly blew its' whistle and we cheered in return. As the train rounded a hill, we could see what it was and what it was doing and we cheered again. The opposite workers cheered back and the locomotive whistled again. We were tired but cheerful.

Once the rails were connected, we gladly shook hands with each other. The other workers were eager for news of the raid which we shared, of course. With some anxiety, I approached the foreman of the Lynchburg working party and explained my situation with regards to my furlough. I asked him when there would be a train coming to take passengers to Lynchburg. He explained that the work train was returning shortly for more repair supplies and that the fireman, a slave, had run off. If I was willing to work the firebox, I could leave shortly. In a moment, I asked Major Green for permission to return to my regiment and this was granted.

For the next several, too many hours, I threw chunks into the firebox of the locomotive, "San Francisco". For as much wood as I fed into that iron dragon, it should have made Lynchburg in an hour but it struggled every mile of the way. At Bonsack's, we stopped to wood up.

Now, I am here, very tired, very dirty and very hungry. There is no food to be had as it is too late. There are no rooms at any hotel. The station master is being kind by allowing me to sleep on some cotton bales with a sack of flax seed for a pillow. I want to go back to the front.


I Send You These Few Lines.


The great Averell raid is over, at least as far as the Town of Salem is concerned. The destruction the raiders caused seemed severe at the time but most was made right, with difficulty, before long. The raiders made an escape, stopping for a short rest near Mason's Cove, with Confederate forces nipping at their heels but unable to strike a killing blow.

That locomotive, "San Francisco", odd as it may sound, did serve on the Virginia & Tennessee.

Roanoke College, in Salem, did have its' student body formed into a home guards unit. It was part of the Virginia Reserves. Six of the students/home guards, ( the ones assigned to Tooms?) along with Captain Porteaux, were captured by the raiders. I have been unable to determine their fate.

All of the structures, McClanahan's store, Globe Tavern, etc., are not made up. All were in existence at the time as was Major Green, Dr. Bittle, Captain Porteaux and Samuel and Elizabeth Hofauger. Miss Kimberly did work at their house, and, in a way, still does.

After all this, what now for poor Tooms?