I’ve seen my fondest hopes decay,
I never loved a tree or flower,
But what ’twas first to fade away.
“Now is it true that I must go?
And can I say to thee farewell?
And are my fondest hopes undone?
And must I from thee ever dwell?”
I told her I hated to leave, thinking that she thought me a thief, and she said: “Oh, I’ll take it all back, I don’t think you would take anything. I am sorry I ever said such a thing, for I believe you are the most honest Confederate there is.” At this Cahoon burst out laughing and started off. He couldn’t stand it, he said, any longer. I called to him to come back, but he wouldn’t do it. I was going to show her the chickens, after she had thought me so honest, and pay her for them, but Cahoon wouldn’t come back, so I left, letting her keep her exalted opinion of me.
In a week or so I went back and spent the day with the people who had helped me to cook the mutton and they treated me as kindly as if I had been a near relative.
On Monday, following, Lieut. Walton, of Salem, Roanoke Co., detached me to go to Salem for his horse. I left the command Monday eve and rode every day and half of each night until I reached Fincastle. I stayed at home from midnight until after breakfast, and started on to Salem. I had a sweetheart beyond Salem, in Montgomery Co. in fact, she was the lady I married in Sept ’65, and she has been my faithful companion ever since; has helped me fight the most important battle of all, the battle of life. As I had a ten days furlough, I thought I must take advantage of this opportunity of seeing her so spent two days and nights at her home. I came back by my home at Fincastle and got my gray mare that I had left at the horse pasture with blood-poison, when Custer was making his raid near Trevillian Depot. She had been sent home some time before that, but I hadn’t had an opportunity to get her. She was now fat and fine and well rested, and in good shape for service.