February, Monday 15, 1864
I did not get up very early, was eating breakfast in my room, when I was startled by the reports of six or seven guns—dressed hurriedly, on arriving at the gate found all the family, both white and black, in the greatest state of excitement—one of the 2nd. Mo—Mr. Brent—relating to them the particulars of the skirmish which had taken place only a few hundred yards from our house—A family of negroes had got this far on their journey from Hernando to Memphis when Mr. Brent met them, and they ordered him to surrender, at the same time fireing. Of course no Southern Soldier would ever surrender to a Negro, he fired five times, being all the leads he had—killed one Negro, wounded another, he ran in the woods and we saw nothing more of him—one of the women and a little boy succeeded in getting off also—the other woman with three girls were carried back to Hernando—The Soldier got a splendid Cavalry horse & equipments, two Mules and another horse—he left expecting the Yankees. Father had the Negro burried where he was killed—No Yankees—Mr. Wilson came, no late news—