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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 25. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 1.4 (search)
r light battery, and on coming to the main street I turned up the street, while the prisoners were marched down the street towards the old railroad depot. A short distance up the main street I found a vacant space in front of the mansion of a Mr. Spurlock. There we parked our guns, took out the horses, and—all lay down on the ground to rest. I don't think I had slept long when I was aroused by Mr. Spurlock—think that was his name—who insisted that we should go over to his residence and take Mr. Spurlock—think that was his name—who insisted that we should go over to his residence and take dinner. We thanked him, and insisted that we had had something to eat, but he would not take such an excuse. The truth is we were too dirty and ragged to feel at home in such a nice place. Finally Clay Ramsey consented to go with me, and we went over. The old gentleman enquired our names and introduced us to his daughters, very beautiful young ladies, who entertained us by singing and playing on the piano until dinner was announced. Then we escorted the young ladies down to the dining-ro