to Cincinnati, and then
to Nashville by rail. It may give the reader some idea of what kind of a
country and life I was coming into when I tell him that the train which
preceded mine had been stopped by the guerillas, who took from it fifty
Federal soldiers and shot them dead, stripping the other passengers; and
that the one which came after had a hundred and fifty bullets fired into
it, but had not been stopped. We passed by Mammoth Cave, but at full
speed, for it was held by the brigands. All of which things were duly
chronicled in the Northern newspapers, and read by all at home.

I got to Nashville. It had very recently been taken by the Federal
forces under General Thomas, who had put it under charge of General
Whipple, who was, in fact, the ruling or administrative man of the
Southwest just then. I went to the hotel. Everything was dismal and
dirty--nothing but soldiers and officers, with all the marks of the field
and of warfare visible on them--citizens invisible--everything
proclaiming a city camp in time of war--sixty thousand men in a city of
twenty thousand, more or less. I got a room. It was so cold that night
that the ice froze two inches thick in my pitcher in my room.

I expected to find the brothers Colton in Nashville. I went to the
proper military authority, and was informed that their regiment was down
at the front in Alabama, as was also the officer who had the authority to
give them leave of absence. I was also informed that my only chance was
to go to Alabama, or, in fact, into the field itself, as a civilian! This
was a dreary prospect. However, I made up my mind to it, and was walking
along the street in a very sombre state of mind, for I was going to a
country like that described in "Sir Grey Stele"--

"Whiche is called the Land of Doubte."

And doubtful indeed, and very dismal and cold and old, did everything
seem on that winter afternoon as I, utterly alone, went my way. What I
wanted most of all things on earth was a companion. With my brother I
would have gone down to the front and to face all chances as if it were
to a picnic.

When ill-fortune intends to make a spring, she draws back. But good
fortune, God bless her! does just the same. Therefore _si fortuna
tonat_, _caveto mergi_--if fortune frowns, do not for that despond. Just
as I was passing a very respectable-looking mansion, I saw a sign over
its office-door bearing the words: "Captain Joseph R. Paxton, Must