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 was dare,
_sua