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“I told him that mine was an urgent case of necessity; that I had come for my
sister-in-law and her family; that time was short; that she could not remain long
where she was, and that in a few days I would not know where to find her; and
that though my path might be full of danger, I must pursue that path.  After a few
more dissuasions, he gave me the required pass, and I left the office to seek some
mode of conveyance.  In a short time I met the provost on the street, and he
again cautioned me as to the danger I was running into.  I asked him if he
thought, in the event of my going on, I stood and even chance for life.  ‘No,’ said
he, ‘not one chance in fifty.  The country is full of our enemies; this town is full
of spies, who give them information.  Your business here is already known.  You
are a Northern man, and hence obnoxious to the guerillas.  You are attempting to
retrieve those who by our men are regarded as rebels, and hence an object of
suspicion by them.  And again, a man of your appearance and on your business is
reasonably supposed to have money with him; and there are men in our army
and in our service, as well as on the other side, who, when from under the eye of
their officer, would murder you for five dollars or less.  Take my advice,’ said he,
‘and remain here.  There are citizen refugees passing to and from that
neighborhood almost every day.  You can send word to your sister that you are
here prepared to take her to her husband, and she will find some way to get here;
and then you will be in no danger.  She can come to you, when you cannot go to
her.’

“In a few minutes I met your neighbor, Mr. Ambers Graham, and he told me he
was well acquainted with Mr. Bennett and wife, and could send her word
immediately, that he knew she would hail the news with joy and come at once.  I
accordingly took the advice given, and remained in Lexington and vicinity some
days; and while there I experienced more of the horrors of war than I had done in
all the years of the war in Ohio.  A constant stream of emigrants or fugitives—
men, women, and children were constantly passing through the town and down
to the ferry-boat; and I spent hours in assisting women and children who had no
man with them down the steep river bank and onto the ferry-boat, with their
crazy vehicles and their few cattle and sheep; and heard them hurriedly recount
their sufferings and hardships during the war, and of this, the greatest hardship
of all.

“A Mr. Shaw, a short distance south of town, who was acquainted in your vicinity,
having heard of me and my mission, sent me an invitation to make his house my
home until Mrs. Bennett arrived, which I did; and on the first night had an
experience which I suppose was common at that time in your part of the
country.  About nine or ten o’clock, the house was surrounded by about twenty
men, supposed, but not certainly known, to be guerrillas, and Mr. Shaw was
called for.  After some remonstrance from me and another gentleman present, he
went out; buy the men, whoever they were, hand encountered a Negro man, who
informed them that there were several men in the house well armed, and when
Mr. Shaw went out they were in the act of leaving.

“In the forenoon of Monday, I, as well as the whole town, was startled with the
news of the tragedy at Lone Jack, and learned that my sister-in-law’s father, her
two uncles, a cousin, and two other near neighbors and relatives had been killed;
and later in the day, that Mrs. Bennett, in company with you and the other
survivors, was on the way to Lexington—and the rest you know.”

Taking up the thread of my narrative now where I left off:  It was about twelve o’
clock, on Monday, when near Mount Hope, we met my neighbor, Jacob Yankee,
whose farm joined mine on the north, who informed Mrs. Bennett that her
brother-in-law was at Lexington waiting for her, and that he was prepared to
escort her to her husband.  My neighbor had heard, before meeting us, of the
bloody scenes of the day before, and was very much distressed.  I thought he had
left with his family on Saturday, but such was not the case; he had left with a
load of goods himself, to convey them to a home that he had secured near
Lexington, but his wife, with a niece, was yet at home, the only persons then
remaining in that part of the county; and he was returning alone to carry them to
a place of more security.  Weighed down with anxiety on their account, as well as
fear for his own safety, he then and there appealed to Mrs. Bennett to return with
him as a kind of life-guard (as women were called in those days0, men thinking
that their lives would be more secure if accompanied by women and children;
promising that if she would do so, he would then carry her and hers to where her
brother-in-law was in waiting and assist her in taking care of or shipping her
property to Ohio.

She accordingly returned with him to his home, where they arrived late in the
afternoon, and found Mrs. Yankee and her niece in their loneliness, entirely
ignorant of all that occurred in the vicinity during the last forty-eight hours, not
having seen a single person since Saturday.  That lady afterwards told me that
she and her niece spent that Sunday and part of Monday in removing farming
and other implements, a large lot of pine and other lumber, and other articles
stored in the barn, as well as some things from the dwelling, to a safe distance
away, so that in the event of those buildings being burned, as she expected would
be done, that all would not be burned together.

And so it was with almost all of us; se left our homes with the expectation that
when we should return (if ever we did) they would be in ashes; and with many
such was the case.  I have given this imperfect sketch, not as a history of the
celebrated order and its varied incidents in those three counties, but only as a
remembrance of what I saw of that order and its consequences; and as much as I
saw and suffered, other may have seen and suffered much more; and all, perhaps,
will concur in saying that this was on of the dark pages in their life’s history