box-car; left her with Mrs. Yates, Mrs. Calan, and another lady from Columbus.  Some of my stores had been sent to Atlanta, and some had been sent to Macon; then the railroad was cut between Macon and Atlanta; I had either to remain at Macon and be captured, or take the only road that was clear to Fort Valley, which I did, leaving my wife and Mrs. Yates at Dr. Green’s.  Yates, myself, Sam, and Noel took to the woods, and there remained about ten days, living as best we could.  Then there was a flag of truce, and we came into Fort Valley.  Thousands of Yankee cavalry were there in camps; all the railroads cut so we could not leave.  One night we stole from the Yankees two good mules, borrowed a wagon, and took our wives across the country until we could strike one end of the Atlanta road, of which the Yankees had not got possession; went on into the city of Atlanta, where I met Dr. Stout, who told me the game was up, that my stores were some of them at Congress Station, some hundred miles away on the Augusta road, and for me to go on there and surrender to the first Yankee who commanded me to do so.  Great heaven! what a shock to me!  I would rather have died than to have heard it.  I went down the road and found my stores, but did not have the honor of surrendering to the Yankees.  A mob, constituted of women, children, and renegade Confederate soldiers, and with some negroes, charged my encampment and took everything except my wife, and trunks, and Mrs. Yates, and her trunks, which we saved by putting them into a wagon and driving for our lives out of the back alley of the town.  At last we came to Atlanta, where we parted with Dr. and Mrs. Yates.  My wife and I travelled to Marion in an old wagon, leaving the poor negroes scattered about in the woods.  I only had time to tell them to go where they came from, to their former owners.  After a tedious journey, having to beg my bread, I arrived at home (Marion, Alabama) about the first of May, 1865.”

The same irregularities existed everywhere; my state of health forbade me to follow these erratic movements:  indeed, I was utterly broken down and therefore made my way, not without great difficulty and many detentions, to Alabama, where my little boy had preceded me.  Even then, we never dreamed of surrender, nor did the sad news reach us until many days after it had taken place.  We were utterly incredulous, we could not, would not believe it.  Meanwhile, the state of things described in one of the articles contained in another part of this book, designed for children (Sally’s ride) culminated in the long-dreaded Raid.

Why the raiders had recrossed the river, returning to Selma, and leaving undisturbed (alas! only for a time) the elegant plantation-homes which lay all along their route, remained a mystery.  It was certain that a detachment of them had been seen and reported by our own scouts, who at that time were in the saddle day and night “watching their motions;” the negroes also declared, “Dey