that I can save you, but
for the sake of my mother and sisters I will do all that I can do." I
do not remember whether any one made a reply or not, I only recollect
that he went as deliberately as he had come. When your grandfather
returned, having with difficulty succeeded in procuring the permit for
a safeguard, the mob had begun to disperse. Our deliverer was a man
named Fort. He was division quartermaster, and had been left in charge
of the wagon trains. He was from one of the Western States, Iowa, I
believe. He was a good man, and was God's instrument to save us from
destruction. He remained near the house all through the day, and at
first said that he would sleep that night inside the dwelling, but
afterwards told your grandfather that, upon further consideration, he
thought it best that he should stay outside, so his tent was pitched
close to the house, and there he remained until his command left. He
was forbidding in manner, and would accept no thanks. I think that he
hated us as Southerners, but acted from humanity.

Mr. Burgwyn was suffering from an apoplectic stroke, and was lying
insensible. My son had not returned from Appomattox. Had any man been
with us, he would have been utterly helpless, and would probably have
been murdered.

One day, either immediately preceding or following the incident just
related, our ever-faithful man, Frank, stealthily entered the house.
He was evidently afraid of being observed, for he slipped in, and,
closing the door after him, asked to speak a word to his master. When
your grandfather came, Frank almost whispered his communication, as
though afraid of being overheard. "Master," he said, "I come to ask
you, please, sir, don't go out of the house to-day;" he would not say
why he gave this warning, and it was not until afterwards that we
found that the Federals had intended to hang your grandfather up
until he told them where our silver was hidden. I rejoice to say that
they did not get one piece of it, although a part of it was buried in
the branch that runs at the foot of the grove, and, in digging out a
place for watering their horses, they had actually thrown the sand
upon the box, thus burying it deeper.

I could relate many other incidents of this period, some of them
rather amusing; but it is time to bring my reminiscences to a close.
But before doing so, I must say a word about our last safeguard,
Monhagan. He was Irish, and possessed all of the best attributes of