rooms at Judge Bullock's. The judge was too strong a secessionist to
take the iron-clad oath of allegiance, though solicited by his wife;
for she feared they might lose their property by confiscation. To save
it, he very blandly offered his parlor and best rooms in his large
three-story brick house, where we found very comfortable quarters.
Through Colonel Young, we obtained the use of a good-sized store on
Main Street for our goods, and the surgeon of the freedmen's camp
provided for us a small room near the camp, where were congregated
four thousand freedmen in condemned tents. These tents were so leaky
that, from exposure, after heavy rains and wind, we had from five to
fifteen deaths in a day. Here we found constant work for head, heart,
hands, and feet.

But few days elapsed at any time without hearing the roar of battle
near by, and sometimes the cloud of blue smoke met our eye. One battle
was fought within two miles by the negro soldiers, only a few days
after the terrible Fort Pillow massacre. They fought desperately. One
of their officers told me they had to command their soldiers to stop,
and they obeyed only at the point of the bayonet; for they mowed the
enemy down like grass, although they lowered their colors and began to
stack their arms. Their officers told them to stop firing; but a
number of soldiers replied, while reloading, "They hear no cry for
quarter at Fort Pillow," and fired again. But when the enemy stacked
their arms they were peremptorily ordered to stop. I didn't blame the
boys for feeling as they did over that awful massacre. But strange as
it seems, not one of our soldiers was killed, or even wounded. There
was a white regiment in reserve, if needed; and the colored soldiers
almost resented the idea that they needed any assistance whatever.

There was great excitement in the freedmen's camp that day over their