near Wicomico church, where, as he told
me, a few Confederates were in hiding. Having spent the night with them
in the forest, we were in the morning informed by a faithful negro, who
had been acting as commissary, that the Yankees had all gone. Although I
trusted his report, it was with circumspection that I traveled homeward.

The departed Yankees had carried away teams and wagons loaded with
plunder from meat-houses, barns, and cabins, and as many of the negroes
as desired to take advantage of "the year of jubile?" which old Spencer
said "had come." One girl, who refused to depart, was thus upbraided by
her father: "You's a fool, gal, not to go where there's a plenty to eat
and nothing to do." That regiment of cavalry had robbed my brother, and
had treated many other peaceable citizens in the same way. Large was the
booty they carried away, and long was the train of negroes, horses, and
loaded wagons. It is said that "all things are lawful in war"; but this
adage, like many others, sails under false colors. War is lawless, as
Cicero observed: "_Silent leges inter arma_." There was neither
constitutional nor statute law that justified the invasion of the South
by armies from the North; none for the emancipation proclamation; none
for the cruel and destructive deeds that were perpetrated by the Federal
armies.

My furlough had run out, and my object was yet ungained. The next day I
found a bay horse to my liking, five years old, large, tall, and strong,
named John. The owner sold him to me for Confederate money, knowing that
the sale bore close resemblance to a gift. After a night's rest I set
out for the army. Riding in the wake of the retiring sons of Illinois, I
recrossed the river at Bowler's, and on the second day rejoined the
brigade near Fredericksburg. After having been chased by the Yankees, a
feeling of safety came over me as I mingled again with my veteran
companions.

That was not to be my last experience with the 8th Illinois. It was they
who in less than two months afterward took me prisoner in Maryland. Some
of them were riding horses that they had stolen,--no; impressed,--from
my county. They showed me their repeating Spencer carbines, and asked
that if I should be exchanged I would tell the 9th Virginia cavalry that
they would be glad to meet them. The lapse of fifty years has made old
men of them and me. I have forgiven the wrongs those brave fellows
inflicted on my country, and I would be glad to m