The people of Fayetteville supported the Confederate Government warmly to the last gasp, upon the principle that _united_, the South might stand--_divided_, she certainly would fall. After the failure of the Peace Commission, the citizens met and passed vigorous war resolutions, calling on all classes to rally once more in self-defense--a proceeding which did more credit to their zeal than to their ability to read the signs of the times; for, rally or no rally, the fate of the Confederacy was already written on the wall. All these antecedents doubtless conspired to give Fayetteville a bad character in the opinion of our Northern brethren, who, for their part, were bent on peace-making; and accordingly, when the hour and the man arrived, on the eleventh of March, 1865, she found she must pay the penalty. A skirmish took place in the streets between General Sherman's advanced-guard and a part of General Hampton's cavalry, which covered the retreat of Hardee's division across the Cape Fear. This, no doubt, increased the exasperation of feeling toward this "nest of rebels," and the determination to put a check to all future operations there in behalf of the cause. In less than two hours after the entrance of the Federal forces, so adroitly had every house in the town and its suburbs been ransacked and plundered, that it may be doubted if all Fayetteville, the next day, could have contributed two whole shirts or a bushel of meal to the relief of the Confederate army. The incidents of that most memorable day, and for several days succeeding, would fill (and _will_ fill) a volume; and as for the nights, they were illuminated by the glare of blazing houses all through the pine groves for several miles around Fayetteville. One of the first of the "soldiers in blue" who entered the town, accosted in the street a most distinguished and venerable clergyman, Rev. William Hooper, D.D., LL.D., more than seventy years of age--the grandson of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence--and who had suffered reproach for his adherence to the Union, and whose very appearance should have challenged respect and deference--accosted him as a "d----d rebel," and putting a pistol to his head, demanded and carried off his watch and purse. Southerners can not write calmly of such scenes yet. Their houses were turned into seraglios, every portable article of value, plate, china and glass-ware, provisions and books were carried off, and the remainder destroyed; hundreds of carriages and vehicles of all kinds were burned in piles; where houses were isolated they were burned; women were grossly insulted, and robbed of clothing and jewelry; nor were darker and nameless tragedies wanting in lonely situations. No; they hardly dare trust themselves to think of these things. "That way lies madness." But the true story of "THE GREAT MARCH" will yet be written.