So swiftly had occurrences pressed upon me I had scarcely found time before to realize the rapid approach of this new danger.

Now it burst upon me in all its impending horror.
Already the results of battle were visible.
An hour before the pike road leading past the plantation gates had been white and deserted, not even a spiral of dust breaking its loneliness.
Through openings in a grove I had looked northward as far as the log church and observed no moving figure.

But now this was all changed; as though by some mysterious alchemy, war had succeeded peace, the very landscape appearing grimly desolate, yet alive with moving figures.

And these told the story, the story of defeat.

It was not a new scene to me, but nevertheless pitiful.