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.
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