treme,--ruin, waste, wreck everywhere. The house emptied of
everything valuable, floors filthy with the prints of muddy feet, the
garden ruined, furniture battered and spoiled. Outside, broken
barrels, boxes, etc., strewed the earth; lard, sugar, flour, meal were
mingled together and with the sandy soil; streams of molasses ran down
from broken casks; guns which had belonged to the family were broken
and splintered and lay where they had been hurled; fences were broken
down. Had there been any stock left, there was nothing to keep them
out of garden or yard. Only old Whitey was left, however, and he
walked gingerly about sniffing at the cumbered ground, looking as
surprised as he was able. The carriage and buggy had been drawn out,
the curtains and cushions cut and _smeared thoroughly with molasses
and lard_. Breakfast-time arrived, but no Ruthy came up from the
quarter; no smoke curled upward from the kitchen-chimney; a more
hopeless, dismal party could not well be imagined than the three women
who walked from room to room among the _debris_, neither noticing or
caring for the losses, only intensely anxious regarding the helpless
prisoner, who was surely suffering, but whom they could not hope to
relieve. As the day wore on, some of the women from the quarters
ventured near, bringing some coarse food which had been cooked in
their own cabins; they would not, however, go inside the house, "Mass
Yankee tole us we gwine ter get kill ef we wait on you all." Towards
evening Mrs. ---- walked down to the "quarter." Not a man was to be
seen. The women were evidently frightened and uncertain as to how far
the power of "Mass Yankee" extended. Their mistress had been a kind
friend, and their habitual obedience and respect for her could not at
once be overcome, but the threats and promises of the Federals had
disturbed and unsettled them. Aunt Sophy was an old servant who had
nursed Mrs. ----'s mother. For years she had been an invalid, kindly
nursed and cared for by her master and mistress, receiving her meals
from the family table, and having always some of the younger servants
detailed to wait on her. Passing by her cottage now, Mrs. ---- was
astonished to see it empty. "Where is Sophy? what has happened to
her?" "Oh, she dun gone to Selma." "That is impossible; why, she has
not walked even as far as the house for months." "Well, she dun gone,
shuah; she make Elsie hitch up ole Whitey in de cart and dribe her
ober. One genplum h