hildren, as the
guerrillas had, doubtless, expected. In others, the maternal instinct
was less than the dread of captivity. Among those taken was an infant,
little more than eight months old.

Delaying but a few moments, the captors and the captives moved away.
Nineteen of our negroes were carried off, of whom ten were children
under eleven years of age. Of the nineteen, five managed to make their
escape within a few miles, and returned home during the night. One
woman, sixty-five years old, who had not for a long time been able
to do any work, was among those driven off. She fell exhausted before
walking three miles, and was beaten by the guerrillas until she lay
senseless by the roadside. It was not for several hours that she
recovered sufficiently to return to the plantation and tell the story
of barbarity.

From a plantation adjoining ours, thirty negroes were carried away
at the same time. Of these, a half-dozen escaped and returned.
The balance, joined to the party from our own plantation, formed a
mournful procession. I heard of them at many points, from residents of
the vicinity. These persons would not admit that the guerrillas were
treating the negroes cruelly. Those who escaped had a frightful story
to tell. They had been beaten most barbarously with whips, sticks, and
frequently with the butts of pistols; two or three were left senseless
by the roadside, and one old man had been shot, because he was too
much exhausted to go further. I learned, a few days later, that
the captured negroes were taken to Winnsboro; a small town in the
interior, and there sold to a party of Texas traders.

From our plantation the guerrillas stole twenty-four mules at the time
of their visit, and an equal number from our neighbors. These were
sold to the same party of traders that purchased the negroes, and
there was evidently as little compunction at speculating in the one
"property" as in the other.

Our overseer, Mr. Owen, had been bound upon his horse and taken away.
This I learned from the negroes remaining on the plantation. I made
diligent inquiries of parties who arrived from the direction taken by
the guerrillas, to ascertain, if possible, where he had been carried.
One person assured me, positively, that he saw Mr. Owen, a prisoner,
twenty miles away. Mrs.

Owen and five children were living at Waterproof, and, of course, were
much alarmed on hearing of his capture.

It was on Thursday, two days after the raid, t