Rebel sympathizers were making trouble all along the line of our work. They tried every plan that could be devised to drive the refugees back to their old plantations. An infamous "health order" was issued, compelling every colored person, not employed by responsible parties in the city or suburbs, to go into the "corral," or colored camp. Many were employed by colored citizens, who were doing all they could to find work for them. But on the day this order took effect soldiers were sent to hunt them out of all such places, as no colored party was deemed responsible; and all who were not actual members of these colored families were driven out at the point of Union bayonets. They gathered two hundred and fifty, mostly women and children, and drove them through the streets of Natchez on a chilly, rainy day, and marched them into the camp of four thousand in condemned tents. One of the colored citizens told me that she was paying her woman wages, and allowing her to have her three children with her, but the soldiers drove her out into the rain. Men and women tantalized them as they were marching through the streets, saying: "That's the way the Yankees treat you, is it? You'd better come back to us; we never treated you like that." Many of the women went into camp crying. Said an old colored man: "Never min', thar's a better day a comin'. 'Twould be strange if Uncle Sam hadn't a few naughty boys." He was one of the group that was driven in. We heard, April 30th, that there was a skirmish near our lines the evening before. A party of scouts had shot into the pickets, and they retreated; but we did not learn whether any were killed. News came to us of Calvin Fairbanks's release from the Kentucky penitentiary. We trusted that the same Deliverer would open the prison-door for the three thousand soldiers on the two islands in the Gulf. At nine o'clock A. M., May 1st, we attended the organization of the fifth colored Sabbath-school in the city. At eleven A. M. we went to Wall Street Church, and listened to an interesting discourse by Chaplain Trask, of the Fourth Illinois Regiment. At two P. M., at the Colored Methodist Episcopal Church, we heard brother Burlingame. After a short exhortation by brother Fitzhugh, twelve came forward for prayer, and some were blessed with pardon. At six P. M. we attended a soldiers' meeting at Wall Street Church, in which we took a part; also a number of soldiers spoke and prayed. Between meetings I wrote a letter for a colored man to his wife, who is still a slave in Woodville, twenty miles distant.