The following stories by an officer show the temper and spirit with which the advent of the Yankees was looked for by the negroes. A couple of officers were advancing some distance apart from their men, when they were hailed by an old negro woman standing in the door of her rude cabin. “Bless de Lord, bless de Lord,” she exclaimed as loud as she could, “yer’s come at last, yer’s come at last! I’ve looked for yer these many years, and now yer’s come. Bless the Lord.” Nothing could exceed the old woman’s delight at seeing the Yankees. This means something, and how much! In the childish delight of that old woman what a history is suggested. Long years she had waited to see this deliverance. Slave she was, and the slow years dragged their weary lengths past her youth, and still hope whispered that the hour would come when the bondage would be broken. At last it comes, when the spring of life is gone, and yet her aged lips are eloquent with joy.
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The battery of which I spoke is in charge of the First Connecticut artillery, and is built in front of a large and stately brick mansion, which is surrounded by peach orchards. It is the property of Mrs. Farrenhold, whose son and husband are in the rebel army.

Mrs. Farrenholt is a lady somewhat advanced in years, very secesh in opinion, who has remained on her estate; but she is now dwelling in a small house removed from the danger resulting from the guns of her own friends. The other day an officer belonging to the artillery corps had some little conversation with the lady, to the following effect:

Federal Officer.–Madam, good morning; I desire to purchase a horse from you.

Secesh Lady.–I require what horses I have to plough; I cannon spare one.

F. O.–(Referring to the shells from the enemy.) That will be quite unnecessary; your people are ploughing up your ground for you.

S. L.–Are they planting also?

F. O.–They haven’t planted any of us yet. But as they have not concluded their work yet, I cannot tell you what they will do.

S. L.–Ah! well, if they plant any of your blue-coated comrades, I hope they wont sprout. Good morning.

The officer withdrew. Evidently the secesh lady thought Uncle Sam’s sprouts were quite thick enough on her estate.

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I'm a lover of God and His Son Jesus Christ. In addition I love to make yesterday's words come alive through the republishing of good and profitable books of old. The Civil War project is an ongoing labor of love. - Karan
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