After landing I saw a funeral procession of colored people, and a number of officers and soldiers. I joined the procession, and learned it was the only son of a slave mother who, two days previously, had left their plantation. He had heard that colored men were accepted as soldiers, and was exceedingly anxious to enlist. When they were nearly half across the river their young master reached the bank and bade them return or he'd shoot them; but the son pulled for the opposite shore, when a ball passed through his right arm, breaking the bone above the elbow. The mother took the oars and pulled with all her might, when a second ball entered the lungs of the son. They were met by a few of our soldiers, who took him from the skiff to the hospital, where he received the best surgical attendance, but without avail. Much sympathy was manifested in behalf of the bereaved mother, who was left with two little girls. Bereavement was no new trial for her. Her husband had been sold from her a few years before. I asked her if these three children were all her family. "O, no, honey; I had two big boys sold jus' afore the war. Don't know whar they went. An' now my poor boy is shot dead by that young massa I nussed with my own boy. They was both babies together. Missus made me nuss her baby, an' set her little girl to watch me, fur fear I'd give my baby too much, no matter how hard he cried. Many times I wasn't allowed to take him up, an' now that same boy has killed mine," and she buried her face in her faded calico apron until it was wet with tears. A soldier told me a large company of them were only waiting permission from their commander to go to that plantation and strip it. He said she seemed to be such a nice woman; that they all felt so indignant they hardly knew how to wait for orders. From this sad scene, walking to the Soldier's Home, my attention was arrested on seeing a white man with a ball and chain attached to his ankle, with brick and his ball in the wheelbarrow, wheeling toward the soldier's camp, guarded by a black soldier. As I stood looking at the black soldier walking leisurely beside the white man in irons, an officer accosted me with, "Madam, that prisoner you see wheeling brick to our camp is a strong secessionist, and was a hard master over a large plantation with more than one hundred slaves, and he was taken prisoner, and all his slaves came into our camp. The younger men enlisted as soldiers, and that man made an attempt to escape and we put him in irons and set a black soldier, who had been his own slave, to guard him." "What a turning of tables!" I said. "Yes, you will find the same turning of tables within our lines all over the South." At the door of a tent I saw a large, square block of iron, weighing sixty or eighty pounds, to which was attached a ring. I inquired of a colored man what it was for.