Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 29.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

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‘ [161] He is wanted there.’ This brought both my father and Dr. Harrison to the window, where a vigorous conversation ensued. The party declined to give his name or authority, or in any way to explain his conduct, and it was natural, therefore, that my father declined positively to leave the house at that unearthly hour. I am sorry to say, some pretty strong language was used on both sides, but the immediate result was, the man left, not, however, without threatening us with all kinds of horrible things. We thought the episode strange, but considered it closed. But this was by no means the case. Early in the morning our cook came rushing into the house, saying it was surrounded by soldiers. It was even so. They were on the front porch and back porch, they were in the street and side alley—they were everywhere, bristling with arms, and under orders to allow no one to go in or out. In my simplicity, I, remember starting out into the yard to look after some chickens, and being sent back at the point of the bayonet. We were prisoners, not knowing why, and so we remained, shut up and ignorant, for hours. About 11 o'clock in the day, an officer of low rank—and, I must think, of lower character-grain—appeared, saying, with chilling coldness, he had orders to search the house for Mr. Beverley Tucker. When told that he was not in the house, and had not been there, the man simply told us we lied, and proceeded to show that he honestly thought so. He looked in the closets and under the beds. He looked between the mattresses and up the chimney. He looked in every nook and corner, and when this search proved unsuccessful, he proceeded to look for clues of my uncle's whereabouts. In doing this he was absolutely without mercy, or even decency. He ransacked bureau-drawers, rummaged through trunks, and sitting down, as to a specially sweet morsel, he read much of our private family correspondence, all the while commenting on what he read in the most impertinent and insulting manner. After he had done all he could, he demanded to know where my uncle was, saying it was perfectly well known by the authorities that he had been in the house the night before; that General Dent had heard him spoken to. It then dawned on us what it all meant, and we told the man it was not Mr. Tucker who had been with us, but his son, who had his father's name. Whether he believed us or not, I do not know, but at any rate, as there was nothing else to do, he took his departure, withdrew the soldiers, and we were left to life, liberty, and something to eat.