Having known the old rascal for years, I begged for his life and offered to go security for his good behavior during the war.

Autobiography and reminiscences by John W. Carroll.  

During these days, Col. Faulkner of a Kentucky battalion of Confederates passed through the country, whose advance guard were dressed in federal uniform in order to protect themselves and evade the federal columns, should they meet them.  Calling at the house of a unionist they inquired of him if there were any rebels in the country; he said there were and proceeded to give names, writing them down for the officers, noting as he wrote what should be done to this one and to that one.  When he came to the name of my father, he said burn him out, that he had a son in there who was a bad guerrilla, referring to me.  When he had finished his memorandum, the officer told him to get over the fence and move along that these were Confederates he was talking to.  The mortification and downright fear depicted in his face was awful to behold.  They put him under guard, foraged on him taking bacon, hams, chickens, etc., and he furnished a bountiful supply.  During the night the officer sent for me and, when I arrived, had the man brought into my presence and rehearsed in my presence what the old sinner desired done with his southern neighbors.  I saw that those men intended to kill him; they told him they would.  Having known the old rascal for years, I begged for his life and offered to go security for his good behavior during the war.  He promised to leave the country and not to meddle again in such manner, which he did and kept his word faithfully with me.  And after peace was made he made a warm personal friend of mine.  At his death I was one of the pallbearers and helped to place his remains in their last resting place. Peace to his ashes!