es belong,
But they never pardon who have done the wrong."
--Dryden

"Jones surrendered to Sherwood. Mobile had fallen Iand all the minor
commands in rebellion were trying to see which could get in first. The
President of the Confederacy had been captured by Wellston. Our great
armies were mustered out of the service, and peace once more reigned
throughout the land. The then President had by his declarations shown
such bitter hostility toward the leading rebels that they were greatly
alarmed, and many were leaving the country. The General of our armies
had established his headquarters at Washington, and all matters
pertaining to the future were now in the hands of the civil authorities.

"Gen. Anderson had returned to my house, where he found joy and
happiness in our little family at his safety after passing through
the storm of this great struggle. His wife and little Mary, as well as
little Jennie, seemed as though they would never get through kissing
him. Henry and his wife (Seraine) were now with-us. Lieut. Whitcomb
returned to Detroit to his parents. Gen. Anderson and Henry were all who
were left of the eight of my household who had entered the service. You
can imagine the sadness this brought back to me. David's wife (Jennie)
became melancholy and more depressed than usual. She was stricken with
fever and died in about three weeks after the General's return. This
left this dear child"--pointing to Jennie Wilson--"alone in the world,
without a protector, save her poor old grandfather. Mary Anderson, the
General, Henry and Seraine were all kind and willing to do anything for
her that they could. She was sole heir to her father's farm, which had
been left in my hands, and naturally looked to me, and so we have ever
since lived together.

"Henry, Seraine, Gen. Anderson and his family stayed with me until the
General could determine whether he would remain North or venture to
return to his old home in Mississippi. Old Ham and Aunt Martha, after
the murder of Mr. Lincoln, seemed to have lost all energy, and were
unusually silent and melancholy, seldom speaking to any one, save in the
expression of their great joy at the safe return of their Marsa Gen'l.'
One day, while we were sitting on the porch, the General said to Ham,
who had come to the front of the house:

"'Ham, what is the matter with you and Aunt Martha? You seem to be in a
serious mood all the time, since my return?'

"'Yes, Marsa Gen'l, we is