[Miss Mary A. H. Gay, in Life in Dixie, pages 127-132.]
Garrad’s Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of several acres, for headquarters, and soon what appeared to us to be an immense army train of wagons commenced rolling into it. In less than two hours our barn was demolished and converted into tents, which were occupied by privates and noncommissioned officers, and to the balusters of our portico and other portions of the house were tied a number of large ropes, which, the other ends being secured to the trees and shrubbery, answered as a railing to which at short intervals apart a number of smaller ropes were tied, and to these were attached horses and mules, which were 202 eating corn and oats out of troughs improvised for the occasion out of bureau, washstand, and wardrobe drawers. Men in groups were playing cards on tables of every size and shape, and whisky and profanity held high carnival. Thus surrounded, we could but be apprehensive of danger; and, to assure ourselves of as much safety as possible, we barricaded the doors and windows, and arranged to sit up all night; that is, my mother and myself.
As we sat on a lounge, every chair having been taken to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps entering the piazza, and in a moment, loud rapping, which meant business. Going to the window nearest the door, I removed the fastenings, raised the sash, and opened the blinds. Perceiving by the light of a brilliant moon that at least a half dozen men in uniforms were on the piazza, I asked: “Who is there?”
“Gentlemen,” was the laconic reply.
“If so, you will not persist in your effort to come into the house. There is only a widow and one of her daughters, and two faithful servants in it,” said I.
“We have orders from headquarters to interview Miss Gay. Is she the daughter of whom you speak?”
“She is, and I am she.”
“Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing you, without intervening barriers. Our orders are imperative,” said he who seemed to be the spokesman of the delegation.
“Then wait a moment,” I amiably responded. Going to my mother, I repeated in substance the above colloquy, and asked her if she would go with me out of one of the back doors and around the house into the front yard. Although greatly agitated and trembling, she readily assented, and we noiselessly went out. In a few moments we announced our presence, and our visitors descended the steps and joined us. And these men, occupying a belligerent attitude toward ourselves and all that was dear to us, stood face to face with us and in silence we contemplated each other. When the silence was broken, the aforesaid officer introduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of General Schofield’s staff. He also introduced 203 the accompanying officers each by name and title. This ceremony over, Major Campbell said:
“Miss Gay, our mission is a painful one, and yet we will carry it out unless you satisfactorily explain acts reported to us.”