men across the river, leaving Company A to defend the bridge.
"A furious cannonade was opened upon this point, but as we, according to orders, were lying behind the railroad embankment, none of the Silver Grays were touched until Major Taliaferro placed two cannon on our side of the river and proposed returning the enemy's fire. Volunteers to man the guns were called for. In an instant father and many other old gentlemen were busy loading the two twenty-pounders that were to commit such havoc in those serried blue lines just on the crest of yonder hill. Our shot flew wide of the mark and the blue lines wavered not. Suddenly the enemy ceased firing, and horsemen were seen galloping up and down the long line. We were beginning to feel much encouraged, when suddenly an old soldier cried out, 'Look, the enemy is massing his batteries!' It was only too true. Cannon seemed to come from everywhere, and a perfect storm of shot and shell burst upon our devoted heads. In a few minutes our guns were silenced, but not until several of the Silver Grays lay dead beside the little brazen guns which brought us nothing but death.
"We were ordered to lie down again. The battle scene shifted, and finally General Stoneman and most of his men were outwitted and captured. A small brigade of Texans under the gallant General Gregg, I think, coming up in the enemy's rear decided the day in our favor.
"Father and I did not fire a gun during the entire day."
One night while we were in Macon papa was taking us to the theatre, and we happened to meet Mammy Maria on the way. Hearing where we were going, she said, "Why don't you take me too, marster? I never been to the theatre in my life." So he told her to come along. When we got there, mammy was quite disgusted at being told by the door-keeper that she was to sit in the gallery, instead of with her white people. When the play was over—it was "Taming the Shrew"—
