This
time he wanted to be certain before committing himself; so I told
him to go out on the porch, from which he could see the whole
horizon lit up with camp-fires, and he could then judge whether he
had ever seen any thing like it before. The old man became
convinced that the "Yankees" had come at last, about whom he had
been dreaming all his life; and some of the staff officers gave him
a strong drink of whiskey, which set his tongue going. Lieutenant
Spelling, who commanded my escort, was a Georgian, and recognized
in this old negro a favorite slave of his uncle, who resided about
six miles off; but the old slave did not at first recognize his
young master in our uniform. One of my staff-officers asked him
what had become of his young master, George. He did not know, only
that he had gone off to the war, and he supposed him killed, as a
matter of course. His attention was then drawn to Spelling's face,
when he fell on his knees and thanked God that he had found his
young master alive and along with the Yankees. Spelling inquired
all about his uncle and the family, asked my permission to go and
pay his uncle a visit, which I granted, of course, and the next
morning he described to me his visit.
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