Mr. Thomas Wesley Asbury enlisted in the Confederate Army as a member of the Miller Rifles, and was with that Company in the Virginia campaigns until he was transferred to the First Georgia Cavalry. His regiment was put in Morgan's command, and he was with him when our army fell back from Rome before the forces of Sherman. Morgan's headquarters were near Cave Spring, and he sent out scouts to reconnoiter and find out the strength and movements of the enemy. Mr. Asbury was one of these scouts and he had with him his two comrades, Tom Sparks and John Sloan.

The three were scouting along Black's Bluff when they ran upon a squad of Yankees, who were foraging. Mr. Asbury and party ordered them to surrender, which they did, but as there were twice as many Yankees as Confederates, one of the Yankees shot Mr. Asbury in the leg before they could disarm them. But one of the part immediately fired on the one, who had shot, and wounded him so badly that he had to be carried on one of the horses to Cave Springs, where he was put into the hospital. The Institution for the Deaf and Dumb had been converted into a Hospital. The others were taken to the camps as prisoners.

Mr. Asbury and Messrs. Sparks and Sloan were again sent out as scouts. As there were some parts of the country that they were not familiar with, they pressed into service to act as guide one of the citizens. Mr. Asbury left Tom Sparks and John Sloan to keep watch for any Federals that might be coming that way, and they crossed a millrace so as to get a better view from a hill on the other side. They had been there but a short while when the boys gave the alarm, and fled as fast as their horses could carry them before a considerable force of Federals.

Mr. Asbury was determined not to be captured, so he left his horse and plunged into the stream. There were at least seventy five shots fired at him as he was swimming, but he finally succeeded in eluding his pursuers by diving into the water and coming out behind the root of a large tree, which was lying partly in the water. He lay there with only his head and shoulders out of the water for hours until he was satisfied that the Yankees were all gone. He found that his hat was gone, and as it was a very unnatural feeling to be going around bare-headed, his first thought was to try to beg a hat from some of the farm houses around. So he asked everyone he saw to please give him a hat, but there seemed to be none that were not in use; until he came to one old lady who said that she did not have any man's hat, but had one that she had made for her son who was a boy. He was not at all choice, and so put on the home-made boy's cap. As he was a large man, six feet tall, he no doubt was a queer looking specimen.

It was some days before he reached his command, and when he reported to his commander, Morgan, the General greeted him with a hearty laugh and asked him where he got his hat. When he told him his experiences, he gave him a ten days furlough to go to his brother who lived in Talladega, where he procured another horse, as well as more clothes, and then rejoined him command.

Upon one occasion, while the Yankees occupied Rome, a raiding party came to Cave Springs.

They met an old gentleman coming into town, and they asked him if there were any rebels at his house. He told them "no," not knowing that several had come down from the hills, where they were hiding, to get something to eat.

They made him go with them to his home, and when they got there they found the rebels. One of them, after surrendering, snatched the officer's pistol, shot him, and escaped. This infuriated his men, and they proceeded to take vengeance on the defenseless owner of the house. They burned his home while he looked on, and then were going to hang him. He begged so to be shot instead, that they told him to run, and shot him as he ran. He fell but was not killed. Some of them shot him again after he fell, for fear he would not die. They brought the body of the dead officer, who was a renegade from Sand Mountain, Alabama, to town to bury him. Several of them rode up to My Mother's, Mrs. S. C. Simmons, and rode through the front gate up the brick walk to the very steps, and sitting on their horses, asked me for some socks to bury the dead man in. I told them I had none; did not wear them, etc. They threatened to search the house but finally rode away. They buried the dead man in the grove near the Baptist Church. His remains were removed after the war. The same day a party of the raiders started up to my house to search a trunk, which had been hidden in the weeds. Among them was a Negro boy whom my father had raised. He was very insolent and spoke of what they had done - killing Mr. Burge and burning his home. In the trunk he found a piece of fine leather. He said he would have a pair of pumps made to dance with the ladies.

The same trunk was searched several times by different parties. Some of them said they heard I had been making a rebel flag and they wanted to find it. I told them if I had one I would not hide it in a trunk. It was a never to be forgotten day. A day of many and varied experiences, the memory of which has not been dimmed by the passing years.

When Beauregard's Army, or a part of it, passed through Cave Spring, the 97th Indiana Regiment, under Col. Catterson, was camped all around our house. The Colonel's tent was near the back piazza. He told my mother to call him if the soldiers annoyed her in the house. When he first came up, he found a number of them in the dining room with my mother trying to get them out. He ordered them out and told her to stand at the door until he sent a guard. She had a stick in her hand and told them that she would use it on the first man that tried to go in again. It was a funny sight. They formed a semi-circle around the door, and looked at each other and grinned, but they did not try to go in. The Colonel gave us a guard and we had no trouble in the house, but everything outside was destroyed. They tore down the outhouses to use in their camp, caught all the chickens, killed the one cow left by the raiders, and tore the fences from around the standing corn, ready to be fathered. For nearly three days they camped here - the whole place was covered with blue coats. They left a desolate looking place, and our food, for some time, consisted of dried fruit, corn bread and water. I don't think there can be found one who lived in Georgia at that time, with any kind feelings in their hearts for W. T. Sherman.

War is a dreadful thing, but we honor the leaders, who of necessity and for love of country must needs fight, but to march an army through a country where there were nothing but women and children, to destroy wantonly all provisions, was not calculated to cover one with glory.