delay and give time for the whole population to collect, and we move off, the whole village, old men, women, and boys, in tears, following at our heels. The wives and mothers of the conscripts, giving way to their feelings, break into the loudest lamentations and rush upon the men, clinging to them with the agony of separation. Their very ignorance and long degradation fill them with the worst foreboding. They declare they will never see them again and are deaf to all the explanations I offer. Some of them, setting up such a shrieking as only this people could, throw themselves on the ground and abandon themselves to the wildest expressions of grief. One woman, whom I was obliged to turn back several times by the shoulders, declared she knew they were not going to Beaufort; something worse was to be done to them; she would see for herself. Hurrying back to Doctor Pope's, I took the sergeant and one soldier in our buggy over to Captain John Tripp's. Here the people were at work in the field. The men were called from their work and their names taken. While the line was forming between the cotton rows I went to another part of the field to speak a few words of cheer to old Lucy, for I saw her two boys were among the levy. She is a great favorite of mine and has learned with very little aid from me to read through her spectacles. She clung to her hoe for support, and weeping bitterly, like Rachel of old, refused to be comforted for her boys were not, and she was left alone with her old man. The men were not allowed to go home, the women and children bringing to them the few things that were needed for their forced march. The private was left to escort them, while the sergeant and I got in to drive to the next estate. I whipped up to avoid witnessing another scene of violent separation, but for a long distance we could hear the prolonged crying and wailing. When we came to Thomas J. Tripp's I found the old foreman, but the men, as he hinted, had fled to the woodsdvise them to come up and see me at Doctor Pope's, and in the afternoon, somewhat to my surprise, they appeared and took up their line of march without escort to Beaufort Ferry.

At Marion Chaplin's the same plan was pursued, the men being found in the fields, collected, impressed, and marched off. As I rode home I meditated a suitable form of resignation to be presented to yourself. In the afternoon I revisited Indian Hill and was made glad to find the people did not hate us with a perfect haltered. Their confidence in our power to protect them is certainly loosened. The old foreman there said it reminded him of what his master said we should do, referring to the old Cuba story. I found him afterward urging his people to have confidence in God, who could clear up the with their former condition to our disadvantage. This rude separation of husband and wife, children and parents, must needs remind them of what we have always stigmatized as the worst feature of slavery. Many other incidents are fresh in my mind and will always cling to me to remind me of the worst day's work I ever did, but, "ab uno disce omnes," there I have narrated are fair examples of all.

The plea of military necessity has been stretched to cover up many a mistake and some acts of criminal injustice, but never, in my judgement, did major-general fall into a sadder blunder and rarely has humanity been outraged by an act of more unfeeling barbarity.

Believe me, my dear sir, very truly, yours,

L. D. PHILLIPS.