"On the outskirts of the town was the city graveyard, but there was no record of plague there, nor did it in any wise differ much from other Protestant American cemeteries. Some of the mounds were not long sodded; some of the stones were newly set. Their dates recent and their black inscriptions glossy in the mason's hardly dried lettering ink. Beyond the graveyard, out in the fields, I saw in one spot hard by where the fruited boughs of a young orchard had been roughly torn down, the still smouldering embers of a barbecue fire that had been constructed of rails from the fencing around it. It was the latest signs of life there. Fields upon fields of heavy headed yellow grain lay rotting ungathered upon the ground. No one was at hand to take in their rich harvest. "As far as the eye could reach they stretched away, they sleeping too, in the hazy air of autumn. Only two portions of the city seemed to suggest the import of this mysterious solitude. On the eastern suburb the houses looking out upon the country showed, by their splintered woodworks and walls battered to the foundation, that they had lately been a mark of destructive cannonade, and in and around the splendid temple, which had been the chief object of my admiration, armed men were barracked, surrounded by their stacks of musketry and pieces of heavy ordnance. These challenged me to render an account of myself and why I had the temerity to cross the water without a written permit from the leader of their band. Though these men were more or less under the influence of ardent spirits, after I had explained myself as a passing stranger, they seemed anxious to gain my good opinion. They told the story of the dead city--that it had been a notable manufacturing and commercial mart, sheltering over twenty thousand persons. That they had waged war with its inhabitants for several years, and had finally been successful only a few days before my visit, in an action fought in front of the ruined suburb, after which they had driven them at the point of the sword. The defense, they said, had been obstinate, but gave way on the third day's bombardment. They boasted greatly of their prowess, especially in this battle, as they called it. But I discovered they were not of one mind, as to certain of the exploits that had distinguished it. One of which, as I remember was, that they had slain a father and his son, a boy of fifteen, not long a resident of the fated city, whom they admitted to have borne a character without reproach.