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RIDLEYS OF OXFORD, NORTH CAROLINA.
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twinkling of an eye all were up- the old plantation bell was pealing forth its first
midnight alarm - servants were rushing in with shrieks and in their night clothes;
some were crying 'Where's Susan? where's Leila? Save Miss Bettie; run out to the
office and put out the fire,' etc., etc. Ma was calm, collected, and equal to the fear-
ful scene. She first gave orders to a faithful servant (Hardin), to wrap a blanket
around Miss Bettie, give her some brandy, take her to the negro quarter, and keep
her stimulated,' then secured her purse and spectacles and went to work. As I was
taken out, lying across the shoulder of the faithful Hardin, I gave one long, last,
lingering look at the dear old house, so soon to be laid in ruins. The flames were
just spreading over the office in a moment while I gazed, the roof of that room
fell in with a dull, booming, crushing noise that filled my very soul with horror.
The fire progressed rapidly. Ma, Eliza, Annie, and servants were working with
fearful desperation - all in their night clothes. Only four neighbors dared to come
to our relief. The soldiers were watching from the ice-house and madly exulting
in their midnight work, and all were afraid to come to our relief, or to go in any part
of the yard. The flames spread so rapidly that in two hours all that remained of
our beautiful home was a heap of blackened ashes and embers. I was taken to a
negro cabin, and from that time could only see the leaping flames, the dense vol-
umes of smoke, and hear the crackling fire and dull crushing sound of falling roof
and timbers. Everywhere it was light as noonday. A servant standing by my bed
watching the progress of the fire, exclaimed, Oh! Miss Bettie, look at the light
upon the tombstones! you can see Miss Virginia's grave as plain as day.' I looked
and saw the pure marble shaft that marks the grave of my beloved sister, and from
the depths of my heart a feeling sprung which I had never known in the eight years
she had slumbered there a feeling of perfect resignation that she had gone
'where the wicked cease from troubling,' and I exclaimed 'Thank God, my sister
and grandma are at rest in the old grave-yard.'
"The morning dawned in clouds and rain: things that had been saved were in
the yard thoroughly drenched; soldiers were coming in crowds demanding break-
fast, and exulting in words and laughter over their work of destruction. Then
neighbors came flocking in offering us homes and comfort. Poor ma, weary and
wretched, was in a state of bold and fierce defiance. She hurled back every insult
the cowards gave, and told them in no measured terms of their cowardice in burn-
ing a house with no occupants but four defenceless women, and one of them almost
dying A carriage was sent for me the next morning by Mrs. K., to take me to
her house, and after I had been lifted into it and placed upon a bed, the soldiers
(?) surrounded the carriage and tried to cut the mules loose. They were only pre-
vented by the entreaties of my friends from doing it then, and followed the carriage
to Mrs. K.'s, where, after I was taken out, they took the mules. Poor ma! I left her
behind, in the kitchen, trying to collect the remnant of her household treasures.
All, all gone that she most prized - the old cradle by which she had sat so often
and sang lullabies to her darlings, the little arm-chair, the little rocker, a small
pillow, sacred to her because her baby boy had died upon it, the family Bible
with its well-filled record, grandma's portrait and pa's library of books. And what
was of more vital importance just then, all her wheat, bacon, corn, and supplies
that she had stored away in the roof.
"Such was the state of destitution in which we were left. And then comes the
saddest thought of all — the strong arms and brave hearts that would have shel-
tered us from harm, were all absent in the service of our oppressed country, and
our gray-haired sire a lonely exile. These, dear friend, are some of the facts.
Your heart can better imagine our grief than I can describe it. Indeed, that I
could not do, for language fails me.'
Dr. Robert-Archibald-Thomas Ridley (2), third son of James² (1),
was born at Oxford, Granville, County, N. C., March 5, 1806; married in
1831, Mary-Elizabeth Morris, and by her had issue nine children, of whom
hereafter. He was educated at Oxford, and graduated at the University
at Chapel Hill, in 1828; was instructed in the study of medicine by his
brother, Dr. Charles L. Ridley, of Georgia, and graduated in the Medical
College at Charleston, S. C., in 1834. Doctor Ridley settled permanently
at La Grange Ga., in 1837. He was a man of fine intelligence, great
energy and ambition; was eminently successful in business as a planter
and distinguished for his skill in the practice of his profession. He took
