Rebel in the SouthChapter 49 Mistaken
On the road toward Richmond again, I passed a farm where some nice-looking work animals were grazing in a field by the road. I could hardly believe that anyone in this area had any horses left, so I went in to investigate. A young black girl answered my knock and called her mistress to the front door. The woman, dressed for work with an apron and cap, was a very handsome matron of thirty-five or so. I told her that I was concerned that roving bands of British and Tory raiders might fall on...