A MEMOIR. '^ '-t^S^-*"'"^ Class F'Z 3 Bo()k_rr2i2i_^ i'UKSi:.\n:i) in BIzVERLEN' TUCKER. 7\ i"lCi"!()!!? IW HI5 WWn, M.:.. JAMi: l:LI.IS TUCKI:!^. noVvv^cv^ cX J"^" ^ V: BEVERLEY TUCKER. PREFACE. It is a constant regret to me that my dear husband never wrote tlie book he had l^een thinking of and planning for some years, and which would have been called "Recollections of Beverley Tucker." His wonderful memory, keen wit, and facile pen would have made it valuable and enjoyable, but failing health and business troubles prevented the execution of his purpose. His life was an eventful (uie, and lie wished his grandchildren to have his own record of the many scenes through which he passed, and his ovm assurance that there was not one word of tnifh in the charges brought again~^,t liim at the close of the Civil War. PRESS THE FRANK BAPTIST PRINTING CO., RICHMOND, VA. A N/IEIVLOIR. Ml/ Dear Grandcli lldrcii : Your ancestors of the Tucker family came from Bermuda. Your i>reat-great-graudfather, bearing the family name of St. George, was sent from that colony to the College of William and Mary in A'irginia, and although going back to his home at the close of his collegiate course, he afterwards returned to Willianishurg to settle there and to commence his career as a lawyer. When trouble came between the mother country and her colonies. he espoused the cause of the latter and held a commission as colonel in the Revolutionary army, doing good service being wounded at siege of Yorktown. When peace came, he continued to live in Willianishurg; was Professor of Law at the College of William and Mary and judge. He married the widow Randolph, whose maiden name was Frances Bland. Her sons were all gifted men, and she was a wo- man of tine intellect. John Randolph, Richard Randolph, Henry ►St. George Tucker, and Bevei'ley Tucker were the sons — all men of note in the State. Your great-grandfather. Henry St. George Tucker, was there- fore a half brother of that talented and eccentric statesman, John Randolph, of Roanoke, and I heard my father-in-law say that he owed his correct pronunciation and his Ijeautiful reading of the English language to his brother Jacl'. who took great pains with him when he was a boy and taught him to read Shakespeare. There is a beautiful portrait of "My. Randolph, taken in his youth, which remains in the old Williamsburg home. AMien he had graduated and was ready to commence the practice of law, his father gave him a small sum of money, a horse, and a body servant, and started liim to seek liis fortune, advising him to settle in Winchester, Va. It was a long journey in those days from Williamsbiirg to Winchester, and I do not remenil)er how long he was in making the journey. He commenced in earnest to ])ractice liis profession. His talents were soon recognized, and being considered one of the most promi- nent young la\\'yers in the coiintry, it was not many years l)efore he was settled in life, having married Miss Anne Evelina Hunter, a leading belle and heiress in Jefferson county. These, therefore, were your grandfatlier's ])areiits. His father united great courtli- ness of manner with refined wit and the most loving disposition, and liis mother was remarkable for her conversational jiowers. her ■^tronfi traits of character, and a most nolile and genennis dis])Osi- tion. 8 Tlicii- lidiiic \\;i> one of unlinimdcd h(i>|iii;il iiv. aiiil in ihat >ec- tioii of coiiiiti-y she was callcil ilic "Lady IJoiiiit i ful." Jud,u;e 'I'lickcr was chaiicclloi- al law and had a law school, when' iiiaiiv of ihf leading lawyers of old N'irginia were taught. They had thiiTeeii children, all hoiai in Winchester, and your grandfather was the middle one of the thirteen, as he often said, lie lived to he the oldest one of his genei-ation. for most of the hrothers and >isttTs died young 01- in nnddic life. You ])ei-ha|)s ncNcr knew that your own grandfather's name was "Xdlh/niicl JW'Xcr'ey Tucker," and / never knew it until Brsho|) Moore read it out from the mar- riage license when he was marrying us. He was named for his nncle. Judge I^)everley Tucker, and both of them, for some reason, dropped the .\atliani(d. hut in legal pa])ers tlu' Xathaniel had to he put in. When he was about twelve years old the home in Winchester was broken u]). Chancellor Tucker was appointed Judge and Presi- dent of the Court of Appeals, the highest legal position in Vir- ginia, and his residence had to be changed to Richmond. He sold the ^\'inchester home, bnilt a beautiful country house in Jefferson county, called Woodl)ury. as a summer resort for his family, and near Hazeltield, the residence of his mother-in-law. This was in a neighborhood whei'e there were some of the famed ctnnitry seats of the Old Dominion. Judge Tucker brought his large family to iJichmond. l)ut Ixd'oi-e that death had invaded the group and claimed .-ome of I he biightest of tliein. His oldest son. St. George, when nineteen years of age u'i'adiiated at Princeton with high honors, and, entering u])(ui W\> profession of law, died after a week's illness; and that sanu' year two young daughters were taken. The joyous- ness of the household had passed away, but there were too many pressing duties, too much young life, besides a real Christian recog- nition of submission to (iod"s will, to allow any settled gloom to rest upon the household. Coming to Richmond w hen a lioy. youi' grandfather entered as a scholar at the Richmoiul .Vcademy. which was then considered the first school in the State. When of suitable age, he went from tlu'iv to the riiiversity of Virginia. lie was xcry young, too full of manly strength, of young life, to be rcri/ fond of his books, and often I'cgrettetl not making better use of the o|i])oi'lnnities atf(U"ded him. Therefore, when his fathei' found that he was rapidly out- growing his strength (being (i feet 1 inch at fifteen years of age), it was advised that he should lead an oiien-aii- life, and he (>ntered the engineering corps of Mr. ('liai'les l-'llett. who was at that time constructing the James Hiver and Kanawha Canal, and with head- (piarters at Lynchburg. Tie remaiiKMl with him for one ycai-. nudg- ing during that time niany life-long fi'iends. His ])]-i'ference was for a count I'y life, liowexci'. and so arrange- ments wei'c made foi' him t(^ settle on one (d' his father's estates. It was about tliis time that T made his acquaintance, and in less than two rears we were married, Jannarv ^1, 18-1-1, and, as he said, •'he never was free," for he was not of age until nearly five months after. Precocious in growth, in manners, and intellect, he had mingled in society for several years. His friends were many. He loved them witli his whole heart, and never during his whole life gave up a friend under any circum- stances. The ffrst summer of onr married life was passed with his father and mother at their country residence, '"Woodbury." I recall now the perfunie of the lilac hedge, which enclosed the large garden and was in full bloom when we first drove up, to be wel- comed to l^oth heart and home. I would like to give you some idea of an old Virginia home in those days. There were many such in our State, and yet none surpassed this, for Judge and Mrs. Tucker were incomparable as host and hostess. Exquisite courtesy of manner was the Judge's known characteristic, and each guest was made to feel that he conferred a favor, and Mrs. Tucker's noble, generous heart was shown in her cordial greeting and un- tiring efforts for the pleasure of her guests. A talent for conver- sation was cultivated in those days, and it was an intellectual treat to sit at their table and listen to the brilliant flashes of wit and humor that passed from hosts to guests. It required great adminis- trative talent to superintend so large a household, and Mrs. Tucker's table each day groaned under the many dishes, so elaborately filled with heavv joints of meat, smaller delicacies, and delicious desserts. The simimer of which I speak was a typical one. There were forty whites in family, besides the large number of servants, and there was a round of neighborly visits and entertainments. The following year we"^went to "Hazclfield," which was an old homestead in the family, the first home of our married life. It holds a tender place in my memory. The old house, with no real beauty about it, but substantial and comfortable : the yard, with its Lom- bardy poplars and other noble trees; the large garden, vegetables, fruits and flowers mingled together; the well with its icy cold water. I think 1 can see them all, and the old servants who came to greet the voung mistress. Uncle Peter, our factotum, and old Aunt Dolly, a hundred years old she said she was, and she lived manv vears after, and Pin Fanny (as she was called, because years before" she had swallowed a pin and never thought she could do any work after that). They looked upon me as a child, and would say, "Go long, honey : you don't know nothing." We all lived very amicable" together, and they were cared for and no work ever required of them." Aunt Dolly, the hundred-year-old lady, read her Iiil);e without spectacles and sat erect, never touching the back of her chair. My young, loving. Joyous husband brought his friends to the liouse, we visited all flu- beloved relatives around, and for the two or throe vears we lived in Jefferson county ; Ave lived 10 as Snutherii jilaiitcrs then lived, with o|H'n ahuiidancv. eaivless ease, and a thaid i;-irt>. Our first eliild. my jirecious dau tlie baby, and she went wherever we did, wra])])ed up warmly for the winter rides, and welcomed everywhere. Our Jirst Son, Henry St. George, was born at old Hazelfield, and as the first (/nnnlsun in the family he was the pi'ide and joy and pet of the whole connection. Ood took him from us at seven years of age — onr tirst sorrow, and oh I what a soitow it was ! It seemed as if we could not live without him, and 1 think life is never (/uite the same after the first death in the family circle. One liidv in the chain is broken, only to be reunited in heaven. 1 don't know how the desire for a change came al)out. (_'i-ops had failed, owing to continued droutlis: some secui'itv del)ts, made thoughtlessly for neighl)oi-s, who had no other claim, pressed for payment; and an offer to go into business in Richmond was made your grandfather and accept(^(k lie saw afterwards that it was a mistake. ^^'ho]]y unsn cents in the dollar, and tlins after six month>" clfoi-t hi- whole life ami career was changed, ami he wa-. Inside-, nndei' pi'nmise to pa\ tliis large indebtedness. It hampered him foi- years and years; l)ut youth knows no such woi-d as 'M'ail." and he I'esolutely sought for some new held foi' his cneigT. Ilis I'ncle i)e\ci'le\' advised that he should go to Missoni'i and look at some laigc ti'acts of lami that he owneil thei'e. and. takini:' lea\"e id' ns in Iiichmond, h'' started with that inteiilion. lie was detained in Wa-^liington. There was the wild- est e.xcitement there at the seat of govei-nment. War between the T'nited States and Mexico had just Ixhmi declared. .\ll the muni- tion- of w;ir v.ei-c to be pi-o\ided. Contracts were being given. Hon. .lohn ^'. Mason was the Secretai'y of the \a\\' and a fi'ieiul hell sli(udil not lit the guns." "Oh, dnilgc." he rei)lied. "yon can then gi\i' me a contract to make guns to fit the shell." He i-ecci\cd the c(n)1i'act. came back to Iiich- mond, associated a man of expei'icnce with him, e-tahlishe(| the work at Columbia. Iduvanna county, and started upon a new career. .Making the .-hot and -hell pi-o\-ed a success, they stood a test given 11 at I'ortsmoiith, and tlu'ii a contract was given for furnishing coal to the ships that were to go to A'era Crnz. Frecjuent visits to Wash- ington on this 1)nsiness bronglit .your grandfather into constant in- tercourse with ^onie of tlie most prominent men of tlie conntr}', and there was a chann in tlieir society and an attraction in the Wasliington of those days that finally decided him to make the capi- tal of the nation his permanent home. ' After some time he entered into partnership with ^Ir. John Addison, a yonng lawyer of talent, and commenced tlie practice of advocating claims before Congress and the departments. 1 recall amongst these the building of the first sectional dock at Kittery, Maine; a mail contract, / thinl-, for Vanclerl)ilt"s ships; the making Benicia, in California, a port of entry, and having Colt's revolvers adopted and bought by the Gov- ernment, and many other grants of this kind. The Tuckers are born politicians, or rather have an innate love for politics, and so your grandfather was very active in tlie campaign that resulted in the election of Franklin Pierce. Exulting in the success of the j)arty, your grandfather afterwards disap]) roved of President Pierce's course, and when the party was split into two factions he was induced by the opposition to start a paper advocating their views, and thus he became editor of the "Sen- tinel," a jourujil which was as ably edited and us highly tbonghr of as any ]japer in the whole land. Jt was in the day when editorials were read and much labor was bestowed upon them, and many of the editorials of that paper were of a })ure and lofty style and were highly commended. He loved the work, and it woulcl have suited his tastes to continue it, but the expenses of any journal are great and few knew how to make it pay in that day. Articles that would fill columns were printed without charge, and the fashion of exten- sive advertising was not then known. Your grandfather's wonderful charm of manner, his bright in- tellect, and noble character had, however, made him wonderfully popular, and when he offered himself as a candidate for "Printer"' for the Senate he had little difficulty in obtaining the position, and the old Senators loved and admired and petted him as fathers do their promising young sons. Xo man fully succeeds, however, who is actively opposing a reigning government, and so when at the close of a Congress there was a question about what paper should have the contract for the Government printing, the admins- tration brought its power to bear upon the cpiestion and your grand- father was ousted out of his right, the Democrats holding a caucus, and even many who had been outspoken friends were brought b}" the party whip to vote against him. Some would not and boldly re- fused to go into caucus. This was a heavy blow. Government patronage was what was expected and needed for the expenses of the paper, and after struggling on under difficulties for a time it seemed the part of wisdom to close up and abandon the effort. 12 Still, the rt'tros])('ct of the life of an ('(litor was alwavs eharining to him. Your irnind fat her coiitimKMl to take an active interest in ])()litieal matters, although none of the Tuckers wcrv ever unsenipulous enoutrh to siiKmit to party ilictation or ailopt an\' measures for success that could not hear the fullest investigation. Mr. Buchanan, when a candidate foi' the Presidency, recognized your gi'andtatlicr"s elTorts in his hehall' and felt that his nomination was in a great nieasni'e due to him. Therefore, early in his adminis- tration, ho offered him the consulate to Liverpool. He would have preferred an office or ])osition that wcuild not have necessitated his leaving Washingtoii. hut he never al'tei'wai'ds regretted going to England. The F.ivei'pool coiisulate liati hrai one of the most remu- nerative positions in the gift of the ion of any kind. and some of the cajjlains ami ollicers thought him too much in- clined to take the ])ai-1 of the poor sailor. Plowevei' that may l)e, he became a fa\()rite with all the captains and otricers of American ships that came to Tiiverpool. lie soon mastered the duties of his ollice. and a- I he chief clerk was an intelligent man and ihoi'oughly conversant uilli the business, he wa-^ able to I'etider him great a>si-tance. A da\' or two after our ai'i-i\al in Li\('r|ioii| we met an old friend. a Ix'autiful liichmond girl. Cora dai'xis, who had mai-rie(l Mr. Fehrman, a (lerman gentleman, and was living in Livei'pool. This wa> a Liri'at pleasure. A home face in a strange land is like water in a desert land to Ibc thirslv ira\ellei-. The~e fi'iends aided ns in 13 selecting our home, our beloved English home, "Windemere House," in Princess Park. Princess Park was just outside of Liverpool (now within the limits) and the residences were built in the park. No shops or business houses were allowed, and each householder had a key to a smaller private park, well cultivated and filled with ilowers, shade trees, and a small lake. This was a great pleasure to the children, and your father can tell you how much they loved this home, even although it was in a foreign country. The older ones were entered at school. My precious darling Annie was the beauty and pet of our home, admired and lo^"ed by all. Our first acquaintance with dear Mrs. Train was made here. She had letters of introduction to us. and at that time was one of the most beauti- ful women I ever saw. A noble woman and the staunchest and truest friend, clinging to us through good report and evil report, with a steadfastness that never swerved. Her's was a rare charac- ter. She had much to l)ear through life, and the friendship she gave your grandfather then was a solace to her and a lifelong pleasure to him and liis family. An official position gives the entree to the best society in any country, and your dear grnnd father's was soon an especial favorite, for none could resist his social qualities. Witty and bright in con- versation, there was besides a magnetism al)out him which made him sought by all. and his handsome and commanding presence at- tracted attention at once. Some of you remember him as an old man, and know that vxen then his companionship was sought by young as well as old ; l)ut as a young man I think few equalled him. He was a man amongst men early in youth. His closest friends were men much older in years — some twelve, fifteen, even twenty years older than he was. They lored him and they confided in him. The first men in tlie land — senators, judges, ministers, congress- men. Their names come before my mind now. The misfortune of it was that his dearest friends died years before he did and he missed them sadly in his old age. John C Calhoun made him one of his pet young friends, and all \hc intellectual men of that time in Washington were daily comjianions. I will not name them — indeed, could not — but he had many anecdotes to relate of all the prominent men with whom he was so closely associated. George M. Dallas was American ]\[inister to England and John Y. ]\rason Minister to France wlicn we went alu'oad. Both were intimate friends and connections, ^li-. Dallas' daughter had nuir- ried your grandfather's brother. Dr. David H. Tucker. This, therefore, gave us the advantage, when visiting London or Paris, of being quite at home at the legations and having advice from those in positiou. We made visits to both places and were always warmly welcomed. On the day that we landed in Liverpool news had just l)een received of the massacre at Cawnpore, during the Sepoy war. and the whole nation was in mourning. It was a dav 14 of I'iistiiiii' and huiiiilial ion. Mnci'v shop was cIikciI and services wcr-c held in all the clini'clics. Tlu' whole of I'hiii-land was mourn- inu', and when aliont two weeks after your li'i'and fatlior went to Lon- don and called at i'oi'lland Place to see his relative, the widow *" of Henry St. (Jeo. Tuekei'. treasurer of the Last India Company, he heard her say to the loot man. when his card was handed in: "Tell my yonno- relative I regret not seeing him to-day, hut the East India packet has bronght news of the death of children and gi-andchildi'en. and 1 am overwhelmed." Serrii of her family were mui'dei'ed. Laiei" on. when he made another \ isit to London, he •^ saw this ele^i;-aJit old lady, and tlu' autlKU'css, A. L. (J. E., is one of her children. I lei' hnshand and your ^reat-grandfather were first cousins, and had always kept u|) a familiar correspondence. it is useless to give fui'ther details of oui' life in England, although there is a good deal that was interesting. Our first sum- inei- we took a cottage in Wales, ahout two miles from Conway Castle. \()uy fathers can tell you of that and how they enjoyed it. The third yeai- our son Beverley was (pute sick, his throat much iill'ected. and the doctors said he could not get well in iMigland. Thei'e had keen no ihonght of sending oui' childi'en away fi'om us until then, hut it was decided that three of the hoys should go to Switzerland, and they were placed at Bellerive, Mr. Sillig's school, near Vevey. "i'our Aunt ^laggie had gone to Paris, to a Protestant school there, and the Masons cared for her as if she were one of their own family. She stayed with them every Saturday and Sunday. I thiid\' with regi-et of the family cii'cde heing then hroken up. espe- cially as circumstances afterwards made it so mutdi moi'c sei'ious and long continued than we had any thought of at that time. I may li'uly say we ne\ei' had a fannly home again, for although we k:new it ]iol. the premonitimi of wai- was already heing heard, and the woes and soi'rows of that fearful time were coming very iicai'. We had hoped and believed that the excitement ami bitter feelings engendered by the .lohn ]-5i'own I'aid had died out. but it had not been foi-gotten in the South, and in the Xorth rancoi-ous feelings had been i-onsed. ami mistaken enthusiasts and crafty poli- ticians kept up feelings of enmity and encouragcMl the widening of the bi-cacb that had already commenced. HuchananV administration was di'awing to a (dose. Voui- gi'and- fatlier sent in liis I'csignation. lie thought it best that I should vv- tui'u to .Vmei'ica with your .\unt .Mag. your Cncle Ellis, and dear little .\nnie. whilst he remained to (do>e up the office and to get our .-ons who wei-e in Swit/.eidand to I'cturu home with him. I reached h'ichmond just din' /red,' before l-'oi'l Sumter fell, and war was upon us before we I'cali/.cd it. The bi'oad Atlantic was between me, my dear husband, and my thi'ec sons, and it was now dangerous and almost impossible for them to return. Letters could not be sent or received. 10 Yonr grandfathei' was in the beginning opposed to the war. Whilst in Liver})OoI he had written to friends and prominent men giving liis views about this and advising tliat tlie figlit should be made "in the Union." (1 have copies of these letters.) A good, many other Southerners also took this view, and as he had been absent from the eonntrv he thonght he had a better opportunity of knowing tbe many disad\antages under whirl) we would fight. I'nprepared for defense, our ports blockaded, and the markets of the world closed against us, it seemed a desperate situation — for the institution of slavery in the South prevented the European nations from espousing our cause. However, he was a true patriot, a loyal \"irginian, and bis allegiance Avas due his State, whether she were right or wrong. But he thought her right in trying to prevent ]S;orthern soldiers from passing through her territory to assaila sister State, and heart and soul he dedicated himself and all his in- fluence to her cause, and when she seceded from the Union his chief an.\iety was to reach his native State and to offer himself for her defense. There was danger in l)ringing the boys with him, and he deter- mined to go to CVmada and to run the blockade through the adjoin- ing Northern States. He aimed for Kentucky, which was then nentral. and he expected soon to get into the Confederate lines. His perilous, exciting, and successful trip has been graphically and trnly descrilied in the following article, which T place in this book as an appendix. 1 need not describe my feelings when unexpectedly he arrived in Iiichmond, but my three sons were still far away. He In-ought valuable information and dispatches and offered his services to the (^mfederate Government at once, and, giving all of bis enthusiasm to tbe cause, Avas ready for action Avhenever and where\'er it seemed best. Still, it was a sore trial to liaA^e our sons so far aAvay from us. They Avere at a foreign school and it Avas difficult to send remittances. This, therefore, decided him, and, by Presi- dent Davis' advice, he and one or tAvo friends entered into a com- mercial enterprise tn |)urchase needed sup])lics in England and ])ring them into the (.'onfederacy. Mr. Gifford went first, your grandfather remained a wbile longer, and President Davis decided that your grandfather could l)e of greater service to the Southern c-ause in Kurope than at home, and therefore charged him Avith cer- tain duties abroad. He had enrolled himself with the troops in Eichmond and had been in service in the surrounding counties. Now that he Avas to go abroad, his commission Avas made out as "Colonel Tucker," to insure greater protection and safety whilst away. I accompanictl biiii to Ncav Orleans, and remained only ten davs, as the vessel on wliieli he Avas to leave expected to sail in two days, and the friends with whom 1 was to return AA^ere obliged to get back to A^iro-inia. He Avas. bowever. detained for several weeks, as 16 ihe departure of the vessel was delayed from time to tiiiR'. At last, Xovemhcr li), 18()1, he fairly started. Jlow, whilst they were slowly making their way out of the harhor, the whistle of the steamer tinex])eetedly went off. how they only just escaped being captured, and olliri- incidents of tliat voyage, he has often graphi- cally told. At last safely across the ocean, after remaining in Paris during the winter, he wrote me that he hoped to return and to get our dear sons safely home. ■ My Itcloved son -lames uas ilic lii'st to reach the Confederacy. The blockaders refused to l)ring 6o//.s-. but consentiMl to allow this yomuj man, so eager to become a soldier, to sail, lie was made bearer of dispatches also, and the vessel, the "Kale." started from Xassau. expecting to come into the poi't of Wilmington. They did ai'ri\'e safely Duhidc of the port, but were then sighted, (ii'ed at. and the vessel, striking upon some of the impediments ])laced to obstruct them, filled with water and began to sink. There was lit- tle time to act. James, rushing to his state-room, secured the box of dis])atches, jumi)ed into the water, and swam ashore. Xothing else was saved. His trunk, with the outfit his father had given him. and other things so much needed, went to the bottom, and also a ti'nid< of di'esses, kc, &c., for Mrs. I'l'csident Davis, which he had chai'ge of. Wet and forlorn as he was, be was still filled with enthusiasm, ami his fiist eager (piestion was. "Is the \\a,i- o\ci'?" Alas ! that it was not. General I\aine>, of torpedo fame. was statimied at Wilmington. and was verv kind and hospiial)le. .lames came on as rapidlv as ])ossil)le to Eichmond. and walk''(l in upon us unexi)ectedly at the old home- stead, his graiulmother's house, corner Franklin and Second streets. lie visited President Davis at once, delivered his dispatches, and was com]ilimentei| upon securing them undei' such dilUculties. Eau'ci" to enter the armv a! once, it was (K'cick'd that he slnudd join the cavali'w and he became ;i mendx'i- of the Albemarle ti'oop. which was a ])ai-t of (ieiu-ral l*'it/. Lee's di\ ision. (Jeneral Tom ^lun- foi'd commanding that legiment. (*ai)tain Tibbs commanding the Albemarle troop. A scliool boy. a t)rivate — but his record during three vears of hard fiu-bting is wcdl known — utterly fearless, un- flinching, and ln'a\e in cx]iosure. in battle, and in e\ei'y emergency., he ne\('i' lo-t the enthusiasm which animated him in the begin- ning, llis only fault was reckless dai'ing. lie was struck hv lad- lets and sabi-e o\'ei' and over again and twice sewrelv woundc(|. hut. thank (Jod. life and limb wi'vr spiired. lie was nuule sergeant and (■;irried the flag, and hi- commission as lieutenant was made out toward,- the la-t of the war. hut already the clo>ing scenes were drawing ncai-and the aianv in i-etiv;it towai'd> App(Mnattox. James safel\- started home fi'om l-hirope. your grandfathei' then committed r>c\'erlev and IJamlolph to the cai'c of frii'uds who were coiidnu' home through the Xorth. They wei-e Baltimoreans, our 17 dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Albert, and words cannot express how grateful we feel towards them, for their kindness was indeed un- bounded. The l)()ys eanie under assumed names, onh' the purser of the ship, knowing that they were the sons of Mr. Beverley Tucker. They accompanied Mr. Albert to Baltimore and remained at his house for three Aveeks. Then he thought they might venture through tbe lines, and as both looked very youthful and were only fourteen and sixteen years old, that they need fear no molestation. HowcAcr, those were times of trial, and some old friends of their father's — or, at least, in ante-bellum days we considered them friends — gave information as to who they were, and when they reached Martinsburg the boys were arrested and carricxl. under guard, to "Point of Eocks." Here, also, where friends of your grand- father s Ijoyhood lived, they would have been released on account of their youth, but one of these said: "If these are Bev. Tucker's sons, they can cai-ry information by word of mouth, although no dispatches are in their possession." They were, therefore, put in a stage, with two soldiers, one on each side, and carried to Win- chester to General IVfilroy. The boys spoke French more readily than English and conversed with each other in that language. They bore themselves l)ravely and never wavered for one moment. There was a Frenchman with General Milroy, General Cluseret, afterward president of the Commune, and he, hearing them speak his language. iK'came interested, and said he did not see of what use it would !)e to detain two youths too young to enter the army, and so they were discharged, and joyfully received l)y their aunt, Mrs. ^lagill, who lived in Winches- ter. The next day they were carried near to the Confederate lines and allowed to pursue their journey. I still remained at my (h'ar mother's, and liad passed througli nioutlis and months of anxiety, rarely receiving a letter from my dear husband and rarely a])]e to send one to him. T liad no idea that James had left Europe until he walkt'd in upon us, and now I had no idea that Beverley and Eandol])h were not still there, imtil a Confederate soldier coming into Kichmond said that ^Mr. Tucker's boys were in Staun- ton, making their way to Eiehmond. How my heart overflowed with gratitude, and yet what a trial it was to loiow that I could not immediately se(> them and clasp them in my arms ! And now Avhy do you think this was? Only think — your grandmother had the small-pox and had been ill for three or four weeks. Richmond was such a hospital for sick and wounded, and just at this time small- pox Avas prevailing a good deal, and as I had been feeling miserable and anxious, the doctor said my system was run down, and I was in such a condition that I could take any disease that was about. And so when it was found that I really had small-pox, or varioloid, tlu' yellow flag was hung out and the different members of the family were kept in the front part of the house, no one. entering 18 my room hut my dear old motlicr and the nurse. Fortunately, by tliis time I was nearly well and had been out of bed for two (lavs. Beverley and Handoljih ai'ri\cd in the evening, and were terribly disappointed th^it they could not see their own mother, after being away fi'om hei- mi long, it was deeided that they must be vaeei- nated and go into the eountry. a mile from town, to stay at their uncle's. Mr. Thomas Ellis. 'I'hey went into the back-yard and I saw them from the window of my room. We kissed hands to each other, and I think their being safe in their own coifntry helped me to recover very rapidly, for in a wei'k they i-ame back and we were together. ]\Iy own ])recious boys I How glad I was to have them with me again I And now 1 began to look anxiously for my dear husband's return. The first news I had was through Mr. Xorman Walker's family. He was one of the Confederate agents, stationed at Bermuda, and letters came saying that Beverley Tucker had arrived there and was horrified to hear that his wife had small-pox. However, Mr. Walker was ahle to comfort him with the information that I was almost well, ^'our grand ralhei' was detained in l'hiro|)e much longer than he expected. Mi-. (Jitl'ord had preceded him, had pur- chased articles greatly needed by tiie Confederacy, sucli as medi- cines, &c., &c., and had sailed from Liver])ool with the cargo even before your grandfather i-eached England. Waiting anxiously week after week and month aftei- month, iK/lliiin/ was ever heard of the vess(d or of any human being who sailed on her. and his dear friend and i)ai'tner. ^Ii-. (iilTord. must lunc gone down in some violent stoi'm. it was su])i)os('d. .\ large sum of moncv had been invested, it wa<. of coui'se. all lost, and it was di-heartening to return with this sense of Cailure in one of the pi-iiicipal objects of his trip abroad. He was able to render service in other ways, how- ever, and glad we wei'e when again, after many dangers, he came to his own country. I'cady to olfei- himself for any duly. Hut sadder and saddei' were the days that followed. Xone hut those who were actually in the midst of these scenes can have a con- ception td' them. Richmond was a hos]iital for sick and wounded. My dear mother's house shcltci'cd many. and. with so manv relatives in the army, there were always two or three to nurse. When the telegram came, "Your son dames dangei'ously wounded," how thaid-cful I was that his dear father was at home. I'l-t'sident Davis gave him pei-mis.-ion to go to hi- >on. it was dillicult to I'cach him. I'oi- oui' ai'iny had ]-cti''c(l and most of that portion of tlu- country wa.- in the hands (d' the enemy, dames was wounded at Aldie. iicni- Lccsburg. but refused to be left in hospital, and was carrieil olf the held and I'eached a counti'y house (.Mi'. Cartei'"s), where he \\a> kindly taken in and cared for. although bullets were llying around and the family in danger. A voung soldier, Mr. Kirtlev. was detai!e(l to care for him. and when his father arrix'ed 19 lie found him not .so seriously wounded as he expected and only anxious to got away. An ambulance aiid one horse, the wovinded boy and Mr. Kirtley and your grandfather pushed their way, walk- ing and riding through woods and country paths, trying to avoid the enemey. I do not remember how long a time the journey home was made in, but at last my dear son was housed at his grand- mothers, and although the comfortless trip had increased fever and inflammation, under his uncle's care he was soon on the way to recovery. The bullet remained in the shoulder, and eighteen months later had worked down into the arm, where there were so many nerves and muscles that there was danger of paralysis, and he was taken to a hospital in Charlottesville and had it removed. In one month he was back Avith the boys of his company, as eager and enthusiastic as ever, and never so happy as when the l)ugle call of battle sounded. In the battle of the Wilderness he was again wounded, this time in the leg, and confined to the house for six weeks or two months. He was recklessly brave, but, thank God, passed through the whole war without the loss of a liml). whilst so many others lost life or were captured. In our own family connection we lost many loved ones. First there was Henry Tucker, I)r. David Tucker's oldest son, just eighteen years old. He was one of the first victims. Placed on guard on the banks of James River, he was not relieved during the whole night, and came home ill. dying with pneumonia after ten days" illness. Then Ellis Munford, my sister's oldest child, just from the University, joined an artillery company and at ]\Ial- vern Hill gave up his young life. The firing had been heard around Richmond all day. and anxious hearts were listening and fervent prayers offered. At midnight a horseman came in saying Ellis Munford had been killed, and in less than an hour friends l)rought the body to his home. Shot through the eye and brain, he fell at his gun, not knowing how or when he was hurt. Our friend,. Rev. E. D. Perkins, tenderly took charge of his body and came to bring the sorrowful tidings to his parents. Ht' was said to l)e the handsomest young man in all Virginia, knew not what fear was, and died before there was ever one thought of defeat to the Confederacy. Then your grandfather's brother, St. George Tucker, was ill with fever at the beginning of the battle of Seven Pines, but, hearing the cannonading, he was restlessly anxious to go to his command, and when the news came first that his colonel and then his major were killed, he left his bed, went out and took cojumand, foiTght through the battles, then was sent into Richmond on the invalid list, and never was able to go into the field again, dying before the year was out. Another brother. Dr. Alfred Tucker, in charge of one of the hospitals in Georgia, also died, and dear St. George Brooke was badly wounded, and was left, after months of snfPering and illness, witli one leo- shorter than the other. 20 This is only the boginning of the casiuiltio and deaths that took place amongst our relatives. However, the young soldiers could hardly rrstraiii their entlutsi- asm. TiiKY at least never thought of defeat. My son Beverley had Joined the artillery, the Otey Battery, commanded by Major Walker. His duty was liai'd. I'oi' ii \\-;i> iu ilic swamps of the ChJckahominy and around iiiclimond and Petersburg. He fought malai-ia ;in(l starvation as well as the enemy, for there was now scarcity of food, and such rations as were given to the soldiers he could not eat. 'The corn meal made him sick, and tlu're was lit- tle else. When possible, we would send bread and such provisions as could be obtained, but op])ortunities to do so were scarce, and in every house in Richmond there was insutficiency of food. Your grandfather had sent su]iplies irom abi-oad at different times, but more were captiii-cil than receixcd. One large box of tea and bar- rel of white sugar came in and was cai'crulh- husbanded. Not one of the family would think of using it. excepi my moiher. who was old and feeble, and it was dillicult to make her do so. It was care- fully kept for the use of sick and M'ouiided soldiei's. both in our own house and in the hospitals, ami when one of our cousins came in, an exchanged prisoner just released from a Yankee prison, and fainted as lie reached tlie do(n-, we >cnt to six oi- (dght neighbors before we could gx't c\-en a roll of bread for him. No one had a piece of bread left from the last meal. Judge Halyburton, who had a large family of young children, had. after long consideration, decided that one c^^<^ for each memlier of the family gave them more nourishment than anything he could provide for them, and that without bread to eat with it. The general dish was soup made of Idack-eyed ]jeas. Scant food and of the ])lainest was in every family. My Ixdovcd son l?andol])h Jiad beeti eagi'r to take up arms ever since Bev. was allowed to enlist, aiul so it was arranged that he should become a cadet in the \'irginia Militaiw Institute. They were no longer at Ijcxington. but wei'c encam|)e(| lu-ar Richmond ready for field duty and |)ert'orming military ser\ ice. The Decem- ber weather was \crv cold. He came home on fu i-lough for Christ- mas Day, but was not well. However, he returned to camp and stood guard that night in a cold, driving i-ain and sleet. A day afterwards he was returned home sick and had a severe attack of in (lamination (d' the lungs, followed by a low fever. As he did not rally, the doctor advised my taking him to tlu' country, and, not realizing how rapidly evei-ything wa< di-awing to a close, I left for uiy sister's in rowliatan county, lea\ing deai' Maggie and mv darling .\nnie behind in iiiclimond. I ilo not now >ee how T could have left little .\nnie; but iraNclliuL;' was \ci-\- dillicult. and I thought she was |ierlia|i- safer where she was. ijow many mistakes we make in life! 'i'bis has always seemed to me a fatal mistake. Kan was slow in I'cii-ainiuu- streniilh and 1 remained some weeks. 31 Then, just wlien ready to I'ctiirii, news eame of the evacuation of liiehmond. A thunderbolt fallen from the sky could not have been more unexpected, for we hoped on and hoped on and believed in General Lee. Then tJie army began to move. Straggling soldiers would come in with conflicting reports, and as the army neared Amelia Court- house we heard firing all day. My two sons I knew were with the retreating army. We expected each moment that the Yankees might be upon us. A^alua1)les were concealed, and Ran and John Cocke, the young soldier boys, were sent across the river. Nothing occurred to break suspense and anxiety. For days we watched and waited. Tlien first one ragged soldier, then another came, asking for food and slielter. Then I received a note from my brother Thomas and afterwards from my brother Richard, both moving off, saying the last they heard from Jemmie and Bev. they were safe. At Inst, one evening, dear Rev. came in. He had escaped from A])])omattox and made his way to Lynchburg, was kindly fed and sheltered by Dr. Kidder Taylor, and then started on foot, ragged, without money or necessaries of any kind. He left us, and then dear Jemmie came, l)roken-hearted, dispirited, and just as un- provided for. The agony of those days cannot Ije told. How I longed to get to Richmond ! But communication was cut oft', and so it was some time before T could get to my dear ones there. At last the old home was reached and all seemed well, although the experiences- they had passed through were vividly impressed upon all. The very day, or the day before, I arrived in Richmond news had come of the assassination of President Lincoln. Little did I think I could have any pei'sonal interest in this, except the horror and sur- ]u-ise I felt at the news. My thoughts were with my dear husband, Icnowing his anxiety about his family. l)ut there was no thought tliat anv shadow of suspicion could fall on him. ISTor do T see now liow it could have Ijeen. He liad one of the sweetest, most loving, and tender natures I ever knew, almost womanly in his affections, Avith all his great strength and manliness, and it was just impossi- ble for him to commit a mean, cruel, or perfidious act. But I will speak of this later on. T will now refer to my dear husband when he last went off from Ixichrnond. again leaving us. AMieu he returned in 1862 we thought he had come to stay, and, oh, how we thanked God that we were again together — father, mother, and children! But he thought that duty again called him. and nil jiersonnl pi-eferences were put aside. As the war had gone on it Ix'came more and more difhcult to su])])]y the (Confederate army with necessary articles. The poor soldiers were enduring privations of every kind, Imt especially was food needed. Our ports were blockaded. l)ut it seemed an absolute 22 necessity to ivy iiml pi-nciii'c |)i'n\ i-idin. I'l'csiilciir Davis, thcnv fore, sent t'm- ymii- Liraiid father and asked if lie was williiiii' lo imdertaki' this mission. {{{• knew his ac(|naii)taiiet' witli prtmii- nent men on the other side was extensive, and an effort was to he made to open eonununieation witli tlie (ioverinnent at Washington to see whether an arrangement eoiihl not he made to exchange cotton for meat, ponnd for pound. If was known that the Xortli wanted cotton, and the South sadly needed meat for our starving soldiers. After a long conference \vifh President Davis and the Secretary of W'ai'. it was deeiine>> negotiations drew nigh, and although the Doctor ^\■arne(| him of danger, he stai'tcd in an open sleigh, driving thi'ough snow and slush and exposed to intense cohl. Tlie whoh' arm was swollen and there was tei'rihle inllammation and danger of losing the arm i!s(df. Ileai'!'i\('d in ('anaila .\pi-il \'.\. ISli:). ami, feeding that time had ali-eady heen lost, met e\-erv engagement, and although a fearful sufferer, never neglected his husiness in any way. Mr. Lincoln was not averse to tlu' pi-oposition made to him. They wanted cotton as we wanted meat. Persons authorized to do so went to Canada to meet youi' gi'and father. Thei'e was neces- sarily some delaw hut the ari'anu'emeiit ivus comluiU d. the meat was 23 to be delivered at Mobile, to be paid for in cotton, and everything >;eemed satisfactorily settled. Alas! it was too late. Events <:'rowded upon event.s and the Confederacy was near its close. Sher- man's march, the closing battles around Petersburg and Richmond, the evacuation of the latter city, and finally Lee's surrender at Ap])oma.ttox. The meat had l)een shi])ped: what became of it was never known. This, and this only, was the mission upon which your grand- father went to Canada. He was, of course, often with Clay, Tliom])- son, and tlie other Confederates in that country, but I have heard him sav that he told them : ''Now, gentlemen, / am on a peaceful mission, which can be best attended to by my taking part in noth- ing else. Tt is. therefore, my request that you should not even in- form me what vou are engaged in." And so it was. Besides, he had never had "any hitter feeling towards the North or Northern men, except the natural antagonism towards the invaders of our beloved country and homes. He humljered many personal friends in the North, and he was engaged in friendly correspondence with President Lincoln and Secretary Seward. He took no part in the raids on the borders, or in any of the secret transactions of the other Confederate agents, except that he willingly helped any of our poor soldiers who escaped from Northern prisons to return to their own homes. He was always loyal indeed to the South, espe- cially to his own State, for he believed we had right on our side, and 'that devotion to his beloved Virginia and the consecration of everv talent to her service was his first duty. Although not actually engaged as a soldier hghting the haiflrs of his country, he endured exposure and privation of every kind whilst endeavor- ing to fulfill the missions assigned him, and surely his sufferings and dangers continued for years after the conclusion of the war. You see that during the most troublous times that came upon us in the South your grand fathei was awav, but the distress was only aggravated in his case, as suspense and anxiety and false reports made everything hard to bear. As soon as I returned to Richmond. I ajjplied to (h-neral Halleck. then in command of the city, for a jiermit to join my husband in Canada. This was refused. The ])roclamation was issued ■charging the Confederates in Canada with plotting President Lin- coln's death and rewards offered for their arrest. I have heard your grandfather say that the morning paper was brought to him as usual, and. sitting up in bed, he read that most astounding article and the offer of $25,000 for his head. He rubbed his eyes and thought he was dreaming ; then after reality came to him there wa> an "intense feeling of indignation and horror at his being charged with so dastardly a crime. He had never seen young Booth or heard of Surratt. or any of the names, even of the l)arties connected with that crime. His address in \\\v |)(()|i|r nf the [■iiilcd State's and Ins IcttiT to Mr. St'wai-il wa- ilu' luitiiral cxiu't-sioii n\' iiidi«i-iiati()ii felt 1)V an innocent man so falsely accu>c(l. imahlc to rest tamelv and (|iii(.'tlv under such injustice. To one of sucli .sensitive feelinus and wliose standard of honor was so exalted, it was simply intoK'rahle. Tie could not enchire it. and could scarcely I'efrain from a-oinu- at once to AVasliiiigton and deniandi]i>i- trial. I'ndcr the iearrul state of excitement, of nncertainty, and of clamorous, revenii-efu! feelings tliat then dominated tli(> Xorlli, it was known that this would he suicidal. Mr. I)a\is and .Mi-. Clay wei-e ])ris()ners al l-'ortress ^lonroe and snhjt'cted to every indiiiuity. l*oj)ular clamor de- manded victims, and there was no thouiiht except a feverish desire to crush and punish the wliole South. Everywhere there was a feelinoldiers, bayonets bristling and cxcit axcnue blocked. They now demanded to search the house foi- any papers or corre.spondence of Mr. Tucker's. Xothing could be Found. T'hcy susiieetcMl his being in A'irginia. \)v. Tucker's house was searched, and lhe\- cm'U went to my brothei'"s. in Buckingham county, one hundi'eil miles from Ifichmond. under a false rumor that .Mr. 1'ucker was ihei'e. .V guard of soldiers was kept at my mother's house all the time. Mingled feelings opju-essed us all. l?ichmond was under martial law, and we felt that no word was uttered that was not re])orted to the authorities. .\nd now there came to me a s(u-row so heavy that I i-an >carce s])eak of it. My precious child. dai-ling little Annie, her father's pet and darling, so beautiful, tender, ami loving, was taken ill. Of a part iculai'ly sensitive organization, the times through which she passed were too much lilled with startling hor- I'ors. She had been, unfortunately, left with her sister and grand- mother when I went 'o the country, and the lei'i-ors of the e\acu- lioii were impressed on her mind. The lire, the blowing up of the buildings by powdei-. the fright of stH'ing the ^'ankee soldiers, alai'in (d' llieii' -urr(mnding our house, and then bearing of the cbai'ges again>t liei' precious father, lilled bei- ndnd with distressing thoughts, and when fi'ver set in her (U'liriiini told bow all of these things im))resse(l her. For ten days she lay in suirering: llien Cod look her to himself. I could not think of m\' own sori'ow. fof my husband filled my thouuhts. ami I li-iicii' what a blow this would be to him. bow bard that such tidings slioukl reach him when away from all he loved! We had lost two noble children before in our earlier married life — Henry St. Georoe. our oblest son, and a three-year-old daughter, P^annie Bland : Imt then we had mingled our tears together, we had helped each other, and together we had tried to isay, "Thy will be done." Xow a l)]aek pall seemed over everytliing. 1 only felt that 1 must try to get to your grandfather. We Uiid tlie precious Ijody of our darling one in its resting place, and then I determined to try and get olf witliout the pennit. It seemed intolerable to be absent from each other in such a time of sorrow and 1 was quite willing to brave imprisonment in making the attempt. My pre- cious sister, Mrs. Magill, determined to accompany me, and your Aunt Maggie also. We took the boat at Eocketts, l)ut very soon after starting a soldier came up, showing his order to put us under arrest. We went on until we reached Baltimore, then were taken to a room and two soldiers kept guard at the door until the boat was ready for return. We were taken back to Richmond and allowed to return to our homes. There was nothing to be done for the time, therefore; l)ut at last my son James determined to go to his father, if possible, and starting from Charlottesville he was al)le to go through to Canada. He remained in Montreal for some time comforting his dear father, then left for Xew York. As the popular clamor subsided, and it began to a])pear that there had been no widespread conspiracy in the South for the assassination of Lincoln, I began to think of making another attempt to join my husband. General Patrick had replaced Gene- ral Halleck in command of Eichmond, and he was kind and gentle- manly, and the people of the city felt indebted to him for holding the reins of government in a less arbitrary way. I had permission, therefore, now to go away, and so dear Maggie and Ellis accom- panied me. I went by sea to New A'ork, and was welcomed most cordially by Mr. Hiram Cranston (eo true a friend to all distressed Southerners), and from there started the next morning to Canada. ]\[r. Eogers (the Queen's custom-house officer at Suspension Bridge) met me and gave me letters and directions. At St. Catharine's, Eev. Mr. Dixon (my husband's brave, lo3^al, true, and noble friend) received me with a brother's welcome, accompanied me to Toronto, and carried me to his mother's, and then, the next day, saw me fairly started to ^Montreal, where my darling husband, your dear grand- father, awaited me. He had fully intended meeting me at Xiagara, but his friends advised that he should not. Although it must have been known l)y the Government before this that all the the suspi- cions about the Confederates in Canada were groundless, neither the President nor other officials were magnanimous or just enough to acknowledge that they were wrong. The proclamation con- tinued, and efforts were made by spies and mercenaries to capture the gentlemen so proscriljed for the sake of the reward offered. It 26 was kiiiiwn in MdiiI I'i'al tluil |)crMiiis wci'c tlicrr. and all along the border oi' Canada. Irving- to cnti^ap tlii'SL' oentU'inun, and especially a detective had just been tliwai'tcd by your grandfather. When 1 met him in Monti'eal and was taken to liis lodgings, 1 soon I'cali/.ed the position ho \\a> in. An honi' al'toi- I had arrived thei'e was a ring at the bell. Two men came in. with ai'ms. iVe.. and said they had been sent by the Mayoi" of the <-ily to guard the house and prevt-nt trouble, as infonnation had been received that an attein|)t would be made to ea])lnre Mr. Tucker. For weeks he wa> accompanied by iVicnds. who ai-ine(l themselves for his defence, wheiiexcr he left the house, j-'.spcciallv some of the officers of the Queen's artillery (with whom he was a great favorite) formed themselvt's into an escort for his safety. It was indeed a bitter thing for an innocent man to he so Jioiindcd and annoyed. We met after a long sej)aration under trying circumstances. Our heart sor- row, the loss of our darling, our angel Annie, was still so fresh, so hard to bear; but thciv was eo)nfoi-t in the thought that she was safel)' housed in bei- heavenly home, and that muie of these earthly troubles could harm hei'. It madi' it easier to say, "Thy will be done."' l)ear l^llis, our youngt'st son. and now the youngest child, had gone with me, and the dear little fellow never allowed his father to leave the house without accom])anying him, armed with a ])istol, so as to defend him from attack. We remained in JMontreal during the summer, and then, as there seemed no prospect of returning to our own beloved country, your grandfather acce|)ted an offer of business which would take him to Europe. .\ll of our childi'cn wei'c. howe\-er. to be provided for. Feeling the im])ortance of contiiniing the interrupte(l education of our sons, we sent fm- them. Your grandfatln'r entered inttitutions of learning, and it was to our regret that oui- beloved daiighlei- could not go with us. She accepted an in\i1ation fi-om oui- ever true friend. Mrs. Train, and went to New ^'oi'k. \i~-iting her there during the wiutei-. and then going to bei- gi-andniothei'"s, in liiehmond. .\nd now your dear grandralbei- had oiicc moi'e to lea\c .\merica. and ii'i' starte(l life \o- gether aiiain. lea\ing//// oui' belo\cd childi-en behind us. 'IMie many sacrifices made, during the four years of war. made all otbei- trial-^ seem only a continuation id' life's discipline : but this sepai'atiou was, nevertheless, heartrending. .Ml was so uncertain, too. as to the future. The accejjted business was not proiiiisiin/. only taken be- cause our lu'ccssities were great, and nothing else oft'ei-ed, and on reaching Livei'pool it was soon found how fi'ail was the dependeiu^e. 27 for promises were not fulfilled, remittances were stopped, and we were, after two or three months, left in England without any means of support. The one comfort was, that the newspaper correspond- ence continued aud we tliouo-lit the expenses of the hoys in C^anada were secured. And now it was that our thoughts turned towards Mexico. Colo- nel Matthew ]\raury had heen to England and puhlished in the English pa})ers glowing accounts of that country, of his friend, the Emperor Maximilian, and of the liberal otfers made to all South- erners who Avould go there as colonists and support the new em- pire. There were generous, whole-souled Englishmen who had been enthusiastic supporters of the Southern cause during the war, and who now extended sympathy and hospitality to all of the wanderers of the lost cause. Especially were we indebted to the Rev. Mr. Trapnell. "^ Through some of these iniluences the London Standard made an offer that Mr. Tucker should act as their Mexican correspondent, if he went to that country, and so the idea did not seem so hopeless or irrational, especially as the Cincinnati Enquirer continued him in the same capacity. Leaving London, therefore, we went to Paris, where some other business connected with ]\Iexico was confided to his care, and we concluded to sail in the first steamer leaving the port of St. Xazaire. There was much longer detention than was expected, but at last we set sail, March 20, 1866. Encountering an equinoctial gale in the Bay of Biscay, we were roused the first night, to find our cabin flooded with Avater, the port hole having been forced open. It was a beautiful new steamer, L'Imperatice Eugenie, and after this first discomfort the voyage was delightful, and as we daily sailed into warmer regions there was much to enjoy in sailing over smooth seas and under blue skies. As we neared the islands, our first destination to be St. Thomas, there seemed to be something wrong, and there were various rumors among the passen- gers. At last the steamer stopped, a long boat was lowered, and an officer and sailors rowed off. We were forty miles from St. Thomas and there was not coal enougli to steam us to tlie island; ui'e in making t lie 1 rip across tlu> Gulf and then hy land, and was ill with fever when I -aw her. SIn' had only a young man and very voung girl (two grandcliildreii ) with her, for she was the pioneer and intended lo send \'nv the re-t of the family. She talked very cheerfully, and did not appear \-ery ill. hut two days after we reached the City of Mexico ue heard of her dealh. This is only one instance of the iiKinij. many such cn-es we daily heard lagc. and we were laughed at for paying so much (a real), when only a few cents should haxc heen the ])rice. The best chocolate was made there, and .liidge Perkins took ns to a restaurant famous for this s|)ecialty. With all illusi(ms ahmit settling at Carlotia (luite dissipated 29 from oiir mind, we took the diligence for Pnebla, and there we were taken possession of by Mr. and ]\Irs. Snowden Andrews. He was connected with the Mexican Railway and had a charming home at Pnebla. The greater elevation here, the pure atmosphere, and all the surrounding country was beautiful. Here wheat and crops be- longing to the temperate region are grown. After two charming days spent with our friends, we decided to push on to the City of Mexico, and started in the diligence at twelve at night. We knew that such travelling was unsafe, and followed the advice of others in taking off watches, rings, &c.. and ])]acing thom in our trunks. Kobbers in Mexico generally stop the stages and rob the passen- gers of all their personal belongings. In this ease it was different, for when we halted at dayl)reak the driver coolly announced that all the baggage had been cut off. Even that in the front under him. containing a box of new clothing for your grandfather, was gone. It was a real disaster. iVll our clothing bought in Paris, sutticient to last several years, was stolen, and there was the pros- ]>ect of arriving in the City of Mexico without even a change of raiment, and with very little money to re])lace the loss. Your grandfather's gold watch, costing $'^50, his chain and seal, which bore the family coat of arms — all gone. I think / was disposed to grumble a good deal and to talk a great deal about it, but one of your dear grandfather's chief characteristics was a cheerful sub- mission to personal losses and to whatever was inevitable, and so he asked me then and there to bear it bravely, and when he reached Mexico he joked about it with his friends and would not complain, and although steps were taken to try and recover it, that could not be done; and so we tried to forget it and to think of it as one of our war sacrifices. The Taleotts and other friends gathered around us at once, the ladies sending me changes of clothing, and some pur- chases were made to supply our wants. There was some suspicion that THIS was not simply a Mexican robbery, but that it was ordered by American agents, with the expectation of finding papers and documents in your grandfather's trunks. Whether this was so or not, we had no way of deciding, but very st rang eh/ a week after- wards we were informed that our trunks were at the station, and so thcj/ ircrc. l>ut on opening them every article helonging to us had been taken and the empty trunks filled with sample boards and cards of American calicos, cloths, and other goods. This is all we ever heard of our baggage, but two trunks intended for the Empress, which were on the same diligence, were safely fur^'-nrdprl to her. And surely the whole thing was quite unlike ordinary Mexican stage robberies. Our son James was oft" on the road, but in a few days we saw him. He had engaged a room for us in the same building in which Colonel Talcott's and Colonel Maury's families resided, so we were at once surrounded 1»\' friends. It all seemed verv ne\\\ l)ut there 30 was a gi'cat chariii in it all. \\"c wrw to t;ikc our meals at a boarding" Imnsc aci-oss the street. The -ecund daw whilst prepaiMiig to go to (liniiei-, it eoiiimeneeii rainiiii;-. and in ten minutes the whole street was tlooded. ^^'ater was above the carriage wheels, and I saw Mexican Indians l)ringing men and women on their backs ont of a church that was on the s(|iiai'e. There was no possibility of getting over to dinner. It was the /Irsl niiit at the season, and the hardest I ever saw in Mexico, but from this time it rained every afternoon, commencing about 2 or ;5 o'clock and subsiding about sundown'. The Southern colony and the iuiglish residents in the city made a very pleasant social circde. and there were a few Mexican families who mingled among us, but generally they were exclusive and re- mained in their own houses. It was jdainly to be seen that the Imperialists wei-<' not mmt numerous and that Maximilian's call to the throne had by no means bi'cn unanimous. Still all set'uied to go on gaily. The Freneh ollicers lixcd in style and entertained a good deal. Bazaine had married a Mexican girl, and she was In'ight and pleasant, \\'e had crossed tiie ocean with Colonel Boyer, and he was Bazaijie's chief of stall'. Count De Xone also, whose wife was Miss Kearny, daughter ol' our .\merican General Kearny, was a charming wonuiii. and hei- weekly receptions were crowded and the Americans wei'e her favorites, '{'here was an occasional ball at the Palace. .Maximilian could be seen driving every day with fonr white mules and his ^Icxican driver, with silver tra]ii)ings, large sombr^-ro and all national appurtenances. Both the Empe- ror and Empress were kind and conciliating and fond of the Mexi- can Indians and were dis])osed to rule their new country kindly ;.nd justly. I'nder it all. however, there was an undefined feeling of sadness and unrest, and we realized that ire had arrived in ^Texico when the eni|)ii'(- was waning I'athei- than in the ascendant. Colonel Maury had uone to iMirope, ostensibly to buy astronomical instruments, but he nevei' ih turned to Mexico. His son. Colonel Richard ^lauiy. i'emaine(l some time longer. His wife was (uie of our deaj- I'rieiul-. ami nexci' can I forget the kindness and lio~|ii- tality shown us. dui-ing all (d' oui' i-esideiice, by the whole Talcott family. Coloiud Talc(>Vt*s home was open to all Southerners. Wdiat a noble man he wa<' ()ne id' hi> daughters mai'ried an .\ustrian attached to the I'hiiperni-'s liou>(dio|d, and \u< sons were all work- ing with him, engage(l in the const I'uct ion of the Imperial I?ailway from Vera Ciaiz to the Cil\ of Mexico. >'our gi'and fat Ikm' found ihei'e was litlle opening I'oi' any remunerati\e bu-ine() nuuiy other Americans were in Mexico and had been there much longer than he had. Trials come with all blessings, and our trial was that we would have to se])arate. Travelling was very imsafe in that dii-ectiou — impossible for a lady — and as it was necessary for liim to leave as early as ])ossible. arrangements wei'e hui-ried and oni' little Mexican home broken up. I'ooi' Carlotta had already gone on her ill-fateil joni'ney ti» be- seech the I^mpei'(M\ Napoleon's aid. and we knew that lii'st one and then anotliei' of oni' Amcfiean families wei'c lea\ing the country iind that the enipii'c was doomed, ("ojoiicl nnd \\v<. IJichai'd Mani'v wi'i-e lo Ie;i\e foe N ica I'a ngua . and I decided to accom|i;iny them as far as \'era Crn/. Onr young fi'iend. too. a son of the artist Cha])nien. of Rome. wa> going to Xew ^'ol■k. so we all left together, X()veml)ei- ."). isCiC). had an exciting li'ip. but at last landed in Ha- vana No\cmber nth. where we found (ieiiei'al Magruder and other Confederates, who had preceded ns. '!';dau. ^'oung Cha])man declared he would nol sail under the Stars and Stripes, and. as I fell much the same way. we placed ourselves under the cai-e of the Kngiisb caiitain. Had I not been a very good sailor 1 would have regri'tted this, for the little vessel rolU'd and ])itched all the way. We landed at .Nassau for coal and mails, and found that a late hui-ricane had caused de\a>lation, ibi'owing down buildings, etc., the streets still encumbci'ed with debris. .\!1. howevt'r, looked peac(d'u! enough then. On ari'i\ing at Xew "^'ork, November Sdth. 1 took leave of mv escort, \-ouni:- Chapman sailinu' for Rome, whilst 1 found n 33 hospitable welcome from our ever dear friend, Mrs. Train. Remain- ing with her some days, I then went to Richmond to my dear mother's, where my precions daughter was, reaching there early in December. Your dear grandfather and his son James left for San Luis two days before I started on my journey. They took the diligence on Xovember 3, 1866, and I was fortunate in hearing of them by tele- graph first at Vera Cruz and afterwards at Havana. He was accompanied by General McCausland (one of the Confederate gene- rals) ; Mr. Murphy, an Irish cousin of the Barrons, I think, and Mr. Earle, a young Englishman. They were to act with your grandfather, as it were, on his staff, and young Murphy spoke Spanish well. They reached San Luis Potosi about the 20th of Xovember, and were hospitably received and entertained at tlie home of Messrs. Davies & Co., English merchants, long resident in Mexico, and acting for the Escandons as bankers and agents. Your grandfather was detained longer than he expected in San Luis. The administrador had been requested to meet him in that €ity and arrangements were to ])e made for the supreme control to be handed over to your grandfather. This was a delicate matter, for it is not easy to dispossess a man of authority which he has long held, but your grandfather's kindly nature and his courtesy and frankness of manner made all things at last smooth, or seem- ingly so, although after experience made it plain that Senor Pastor was not greatly to he trusted. The two estates of Guaname and Las Cruces, sixty miles from th.' city of San Iaus Potosi, were consid- ered the most valuable live stock estates in Mexico. The Guaname bull was always chosen for the 'M)ull fights" of Mexico. The estates adjoined and contained al^out L500,000 acres. Two large chief mansions were on each e^tate, and they were capacious enough for the residence of several families. Besides these, there were many other houses on both estates, good churches and priests living there to attend to the s])iritual needs of the peons, and good supplies of groceries, wines, &c., so that guests could always be entertained. Servants for house work ami gardening, always on hand, and all domestic arran.uements on a jn-incely scale. Your grandfather recei])ted for the stock on hand as follows: FOR C^AUNAME. Horses 7,377 Mules LOGO Donkevs 1,002 Horned cattle 2,000 Sheep S2,828 Merino cashmere -^28 Goats 2,^1^ 34 CRUCES. Horse> 4,114 :\Iules 646 1 )onkeys 1,1 98 Horned catlk' 6U8 Sheep 85,108 Stock oi' inaise (or coru) fanega ',^3,875 A fenega of maise weighs 14(» pounds. These figures will convey some idea of the value of tliese estates. The irool alone brought a large income. It can readily be under- stood that the owners of tliese immense properties felt anxious, in the unsettled condition of the country, to try and secure them from i-onfiscation or from the ra[)acity of the different armed revolution- ists. They were men of great wealth, but were amongst those who had coniyiromised themselves with the Republican Government by ill I'll till/ Maximilian to come to their country as Emperor and assume control of its dcstinie>. They had lent all their aid, moral and material, to sustaining the Imperial dyiiasty, and now that the Liberal or Eepublican forces were in possession of the State of San Luis Potosi, they considered themselves and their property unsafe. It seemed certain that the Juarez Government would regain power, and the Escandons wished to secure all they could of their properties and to go to Europe. They, therefore, wished your grandfather to assume the control of the estates as if they belonged to him, to conciliate the leaders of the Eepublican factions, so as to. protect the property, as far as possible, from illegal exactions, un- just demands and outrages, and to form a scheme of colonization or settlement, with the intention of bringing Southern men and families to settle on these estates, offering them liberal induce- ments to do so. An agreement was, therefore, drawn up, thus placing Mr. Bever- ley Tucker in charge of these haciendas, and as a compensation for his services he was to receive an annual salary of $3,000, his board and habitation, and other personal expenses. Besides, if the coloni- zation ju'ojeet went into effect, he should be assigned an interest in the business, to be mutually agreed u])(m. There was no exaggera- tion in the I'cporfs your grandfathei' had hcai'd of the estates. It was a |ii-inci|iality. and everything was ai'i-ange(l and controlled as if it was a little kingdiMn on a lavish scale There wei-e hundreds of lu'ons ( I do not remend)er how many) cngagcMl in the cultivation ()[' the land aiul the care of the stock. \'oni' gi'andfatlu'r visited them as soon as pos.s-il^le, and aftcrwai'ds uuide tri))s backwards and forwards to the city. He became acquainted with (lovernor Busta- incnle. and ihrouLih him with the Liberal generals and leaders of 3-> that party. Bnstamente was the Governor appointed by Juares the new President of tlie Republic, to organize the Liberal Govern- ment. This was done in a quiet and orderly manner, and your grandfather thought it his duty to call upon the Governor and Com- manding General Trevenio, frankly communicating to them his business in the State of San Luis Potosi. He gave a grand entertainment to General Trevinio and his officers, was aUo entertained by them, and conciliated all parties as far as possible and kept off the forced loans that threatened the estates. The whole countn^ was in a ferment of excitement and lawless- ness and travelling was very dangerous. His experience of the rob- bers was renewed. In two separate trips to San Luis he was robbed. Another gold watch, that he had bought for James, was taken from him, with such money and other personal effects as he had. More and more uncertain was the condition of affairs, and corre- spondence with the City of Mexico was ditficult. He sent General McClausland to see the Escandons, and afterwards Mr. Earle went. He had gone to San Luis the beginning of November, and early in January the Escandons wished him to return to the City of Mexico to confer with them before they left for Europe. It was becoming almost impossible to travel safely now, but he did not hesitate. Indeed, it was necessary to take further steps about the property, and so, bidding good-by to their friends, the Davis' and others, father and son commenced their perilous journey. They left the haciendas December 15, 18(>(i, for San Luis. On the 27th the French and Imperial troops evacuated that city. Your grand- father returned to the haciendas, and on the l*2th January, 186T, James and his father received letters from IMexico, and, going on to San Luis, they on the 28th of January started for Mexico. The whole country was full of armed men. Arms of defence were useless, for wherever found they were confiscated for the use of the troops. As they journeyed on they were stopped over and over again. They had safe passes given by the Liberal leaders, but that pest of Mexico, wayside robbers, still infested the highways. The diligence was stopped and at- tempted robbery made .^even times during this perilous journey, and as the passengers were unarmed they were utterly powerless. The most dramatic and dangerous of these experiences was as they neared the City of Mexico. There are castes and degrees amongst these highw^aymen. Heretofore, although everything of value was taken from them, and they felt the humiliation of these constant encounters, no special indignity had been offered them. ISTow a lower type of these outlaws stopped the stage and ordered all the passengers to throw up their hands and lie flat upon their faces on the ground. The ^lexican passengers immediately did so. Your grandfather and James refused, and, as James showed some resist- 36 ance. he was instantly struck on the tciii|)lr or near the eye with one of those sharp Mexican knives called Machete. Mercifully, the eye escaped, l)iit your grandfather saw the blood spurt out and stepped forwai-d to Ids assistance. In a moment six of these long, pointed, shai'p k]}ivcs were held around his breast and body and he was literally impaled. James instantly called out: "Father, do not move, or we will both bo killed. I am not seriously hurt." The blood still streamed down tlic side of his face, but he did not even lift a hand to wi|)e it away. Father and son stood iip boldly, calmly and unflinchiniiiy, and were not further molested, except that most of their clothing, even the boots they had on, were taken, because they had been robbed before of all their valuables. It is such times as these that try men's souls. Tliese two have in many and various emergencies always shown wonderful presence of juind — moral as well as physical courage — and my earnest wish is that all of his grandchildren may iidiei-it this quality for wdiich their grandfather was especially noted. The City of Mexico was at last reached : hut how different it was from the bright, gay city of the em]iirc, n /i/inrciill!/ ^'^^ joyous, a few months before. The French troops had ali-eady started on the march to Vera C'ruz ; everything was disoi-ganized, and the Mexican I iiipoialists were arranging affairs to make a speedy retreat. Don Antonio. Escan- don. therefore, conferred with your grandfather, and told him it was useless and impossible for him to return to San Luis. A new contract or agreement was drawn up, continuing your grandfather's salary until the following November, the close of the year, on condition that he would try to effect the sale of the properties in Canada or the Fnited States. It was, therefore, advised that he should leave the country at once, and as soon as these business arrangements were settled the two helpless and almost Iwpeless wanderers started again, finding means of transpoi-iation as far as Puebla. There they came up with Marshal Bazaine and his troops, and it was due to the kindness of Bazaine, Colonel Boyer, and ('a]>tain De X(me that they were able to reach Vera Cruz, for every- thing was impressed for the use of the French army. There was no way for individuals to get on, over the im])eded roads and dan- gerous highways, and again it seemed as if everything was against their further progress. Your grandfather found out the quarters of CoUmel Boyer (our old fellow-passenger in the steamer LTm- ])ei-;itrice Eugenie), and sent hi^ card, recjuesting an interview. As soon as Colonel Bover heard of his situation he made it known to Marshal Bazaine, who at once placed an ambulance and tent at your gr;iiul father's servii-e. and be \ras invited to join the French army, entertained hy the ollicer-^. and made one of their party until they arrived at Yvvn Cruz. What a kind Providence it was that thus secured their safe egress from this distracted and most unfortunate country! dames took a vessel that was sailintr to N'ew Orleans. 37 Your grandfather considered that he was still an exile, and. there- fore, went first to Havana, hoping to get on, withont much delay, first to Bermnda. then to Halifax, and from there once more to Canada — a long and ex]3ensive trip. He left Yera Cruz ]\Iarcli 5, 1867. He wrote from Halifax, April 20th, that he was detained b}' snow storms, but hoped to reach Toronto May 1st, and it was arranged that I should meet him in Toronto. I went first to Gloucester to see my sister, Mrs. Munford, who was seriously ill, and to await news of his arrival in Canada. From tliere going by steamer to Baltimore, I took the Pennsylvania road, but in consequence of heavy rains and over- flows mucli of the fracl^ was under water, bridges had been washed away, and the whole trip was trying and fatiguing. Even after getting into Canada I was carried beyond the station at which T should have changed cars, and did not arrive at Toronto until late in the evening instead of early morning. There I was welcomed by my dear husband and his ever true friend, Mr. Dixon, and we went at once to the Queen's Hotel, re- maining there until something could be decided as to our future plans. Of course, there was a strong desire to select some home. where our children could come and be with us at least for the sum- mer months, and, with the expectation of receiving $250 every month from the P]scandons, a cottage M^as rented at the little town of Drummond^ille, one mile from Niagara Falls. Xear the border line, it would be convenient for persons who might be in treaty for the haciendas to come there to see your grandfather, and it was a pleasant and healthful situation for the summer. The blessing of gathering our sons and our precious daughter once more under a home roof was granted us, and our saintly sister, Mrs. Magill (the oldest of your grandfather's family), came, too, to be with her beloved brother. It ought to liave been a \ery peaceful summer, and it would have been except that the promised remittances from Mexico came slowly and most uncertainly, and finally entirely ceased. I do not think more than three payments were ever made after your grand- father left ^Mexico, and then a letter came from Mr. Henderson, cashier of Barron So Forbes' Bank, saying that the Escandons were in great pecuniary embarrassment, that they were in Europe, every- thing was disorganized, and advising your grandfather to communi- cate with them in Paris, as no more money could be sent him from Mexico. Of course, the difficulty of providing even for our modest establishment was great, and the disappointment to us was that we could not make the summer as bright as we wished for our dear children. Still, how thankful we were that they had been with us. and there were xr\\<' friends made in the little village, and we all look back thankfully to that summer, although it was bur- dened with much care to vour o-randfather. Bev., Pan. and Ellis 38 left us in Oetohcr lo enter eatli upon dilT'erent occupations. Dear ]\Iag reniained, and James also, w Ik. had written to liis old friends, Messrs. Davies cV Cn.. of San Luis I'oto>i. He tliou<>-ht he woidd again try his fortunes in Mexico, and ap])lied for a position in their large mercantile house. He was, however, taken with an illness, which gave him much suffering and us a oood deal of anxiety. We, therefore, remained in the cottage until coni])elle(l to give it np in Xovember, and tlien moved witli him to tlie village hotel. President Jell'erson Davis, our beloved eliicd'. whom we loved and honored, had made us a visit in Octoher, and as we were near the town of Niagara, there was intercourse also with what we called the Confederate colony there — ]\rr. James M. Mason and family. Gene- ral Breckenridge and family, and General Early and others. And so there was a good deal that was ])leasant mixed with this anxious summer of 18(i7. James" application to the Davies house had been favorably received, and so as soon as he was well enough he left us again, eai'ly in December. I don't know how we ever con- sented to this se]iaratioi-i, but when one has passed through such ex])ei'ienees as oui' war brought to us, everything is accepted as a necessary evil and sacrifice, and one's actions are regulated accord- ing to circumstances. He left us in December, expecting to sail from Xew York to Yera Cruz, but his route was changed and he went first to Xew Orleans, and from there to ^Matamoras. and on to San Luis, arriving ^lai'ch "-3, ISliS, and \ery cordially riHa'ivi'd by his old friends. .Vud now il was time to bid adieu to Di'um- mondville. Oui- fi-ieiid. Mr. Dixon, insisted that we should go first to his home at I'oit i>alhousie, and we pa.-sed the winter with these dear friend-. Oui' >leigh drives on the Welland canal from the Port to St. Cathariiu's are especially remembered. Beverley came from Winchester- to spend his diristmas with us. first stop- ping three days in Xe\\- ^'ork to bid fai'ewell to James. BeA . walked in unexpectedly u|i(in us at Port Dalbousit'. but must have taken cold on the jouri'cy. for in a \'v\v days be was /// witli rben matic fever, and v\-as scarcelv \V(dl when be returned to Winchester to resume bis duties as I^i'ofes-or of j-'i'encb and ('hemisti'v in the t^chools there. As FebruaiT was drawing to a (dose, youi- grandfather and niv- self went to Toronto, dear ]\lagiiie accepting an in\itation to visit the family of ]\Irs. rjeneral ^lurrav. in DrTimmondville. There was some business to lie attended to Ixd'oi'c the Parliament — some con- cession about the bridge at Xiagai'a Falls — which Mr. Bush bad committed to your gi'audfatlu'r. .\iid so now we were settled for a time at the (^)ueen's Hotel, Toronto, Cajtlain Dick, the i)ro|)rii'tor. ])roving a true and o-ood friend all the time we lived in Canada. PTere we found Dr. Blackburn, ^Ir. and Mrs. Zane, and still some of our Confederate friends. Colonel and ^frs. Helm were at ;MTother hotel. The irorsi and mo-l tei'i'ible snow storm 1 ever :-^9 sa\\- todk place duriiiii' tliis month of Fehriiai'v. ^laggie had joined us. Init was ftayini;- with ^Ir.s. Westmacott. a sister of Mr. Dixon. Your grandfather was not well — confined to his bed. I received a message that Major Helm was very ill, and went to see him and be with his wife. He was verv ill. indeed, with erysipelas in the face. ]\[rs. Hehn had no really near friend with her, and so I drove through the storm and took ^Maggie back with me to help nurse him, as Mrs. Helm seemed unable to do anything. Towards the middle of the night he died, and it seemed ])itiful that there was no one to take charge of anything except the night clerk and hotel servants. ^ly dear husband had made me promise that I would send for him should death come, and. not realizing how fearfully the storm was raging, 1 did send a carriage, even in the dead hour of the night. He came and took charge and lovingly attended to all that was necessary. When the time for the funeral came, two days aftenvards, he still insisted upon being present, but in carry- ing the coffin into the clunx-li there was an unbroken path of snow to go through, and he became thoroughlv Avet and chilled. He never stopped to consider himself when any service could be per- formed for a friend : his own interest was lost sight of and the claims of friendshi]) were always first with him. This last ex- posure was a very trying and serious one. The next day he was ill. Acute bronchitis set in — and bronchitis in such a climate as that of Canada is a difierent disease from what we regard it in a milder region. He became very, vfii/ ill, and I have never forgiven myself for not trying to prevent wliat semis to me iioir to have been a reckless exposure of his life, and especially for having sent for him during that stormy night. The first physicians in Toronto at- tended him. His splendid constitution and breadth of lungs helped him, but he knew that he would be ill for a long time. He wrote to his friend, Dr. Mack, of St. Catharines, who had a sanitarium, with mineral and Turkish baths, and whose skill was well known, and under his advice we went to Springbank, at St. Catharine's. Dr. Mack was a brilliant man in his profession, of undoulited skill, and St. Catharine's owed almost all its prosperity to him. He received us as friends, and under his care ]\Ir. Tucker remained for months. The cough was terrible. ^More and more anxious we be- came, and it seemed impossible for any frame to stand the wear and tear of that racking cough. However, it began to abate, and the hope eame to us that spring weather would bring relief. ^Mag- gie came from Toronto and we took board at Mrs. Leper's, leaving the comfortable quarters at Springbank, as being more expensive than we could afford, although we still had the care of the doctor April, May, and June had passed. In July your Fncle Randolph Tucker came to see his brother, and remained four days. It was an unspeakable pleasure to your grandfather, and was the first time the brothers had met since the vear 18(U. when the war with all its 40 realitic'.< was iipnn us. Your Aunt Mau-.u-ic was in h.ul licnllh. Slic. too. had ticvcr hccii well since .Mnjni- Ilehirs death, and lier t'l'iend. Mi's. Ti-jiin, liail urued lief tn \isit Iut at Xewport and try the salt air and bathing there. She, therefore, left with her Uncle Ean., and again, when we found her so much benefited, we felt that dear ^Iv^. Ti'ain was the one ti'ue friend ever able and ever willing to help in e\erv emergency. In August your grandfather took a tri]) with friends to Lake Superior, the Doctor thinking the change would he beneficial, but, unfortunately, the forests were on fire — one of the most extensive forest fires ever known — and the irritation ot the bi'onchial tubes was greatly increased by breathing in the smoke. During this long illness anxiety of mind greatly retarded recov- ery. We were al)solutely withoTit any income, except that occa- sional newspaper articles and letters were written. "The Welland" was Tlie only hotel open in St. Catharine's. The summer hotel, the Step!ien.-(in Mouse, was closed. It bad i)eeu l)adlv managed and had fallen into disre])ute. ]\lr. and Mrs. Norton were the proprietors of the "Welland."' Tliey invited your grandfather to see them, and jn-oposed that we should move to their house, and they would u-illnifjlri give us our board if your grandfather would wi'ite weeldy hitters to the papers and use his influence in repre- senting the advantages of St. f'atharineV and the comforts of the ''Welland"' to Southerners and other strangers who nught eonie to Canada. This was verv kind, and was cheerfully undertaken. \\'e moved our (pi.artei's at once, and remained with .Mrs. Norton all through the following winter and until the spring of 1809, when we took cliarge of the Stephenson House. Your grandfatlun-'s pres- ence and inlluence bi'ougbt nuiny to the \Velland. and althougli it almost seemed unraitblul to desert them for the Stephenson House, this was not so. a)id the Xoi'tons did not consider it so, but re- mained our fii'm friends, and it was often in our ])ower to do them a service and to send tbeui patronage. The Stephenson House belonged to Governor Howland, of Toronto. Tl was the >iuininer hotel where invalids came to test the virtue of the far-famed St. Catharine's waters and baths. It was to be leased, and tlie Xor- tons knew it would be to their interest to have a fi'lend in charge there. Governor Howland and parties in St. Catharine's a])- |)roached your grandfathei'. urging him to take the lease. He re- ))lie(l he had no lapital and could not do so. Besides, the verv thought of such a thing was very distasteful. He had dispensed hospitality all his life — lavishly, almost i-oyally — and to be obliged to iH'ceive moni(Ml i-eiuuneration for entci'taining persons under his own roof seemed utterly impossible and most galling — opposed to his whole nature. Still, there seemed no opening for tangible business of anv kind, and here was at least a >ort of refuge and a 4] home that offered a possil)ility of our absent children coming to us during the summer months of A'acation. St. Catharine's was a small town, that had risen into temporary importance during the war. Tt was accessible, and the merchants had greatly increased their trade and were unwilling to see it drift away. The mineral baths formed a reason for visitors and refugees still coming there, and it was thought that a Southerner of such prominence as your grandfather might well be instrumental in all this. Governor Plowland would not lease the hotel unless the fur- niture was sold and first payments made, and that was quite out of our power. So tiventij gentlemen of the town — merchants, bankers, &c. — proposed to subscribe $300 each, placing this sum of .$().000 at your grandfather's disposal, which was secured to them by a life insurance, ^vhich he paid up to the time of his leaving Canada, and which they kept tip themselves afterwards. There was a good deal spent in repairing both house and furni- ture, and the phtmbing bills were especially large, and continued all the time we were tliere. Well, all this ojiened a new and most unexpected era in our livcf In a certain way it was a success. The merchants certainly reaped the benefit, for strangers came, and as goods were cheaper than in the States, their sales were large. Southerners, especially even from the far South, coming, remaining the whole season, and making- extensive 23urchases. I suppose your grandfather was right in thinking that he was, by his nature, unfitted to play the role of a hotel keeper. He gave his guests a charming time. He entertained them as if they were his private and personal visitors. His wonderful social qualities made him most entertaining and greatly beloved ; but some came who were old friends, and he found it impossible to receive pay- ment from them ; and others woiild deceive and go off without nuik- ing payment, and the expenses were heavy and the season com- paratively short. Still, we* were not discouraged, for I suppose St. Catharine's and its waters had never been brought so favorably into notice or so widely known. It seemed an era of prosperity for the town, and Dr. Slack's reputation as a physician and surgeon \^as spread far and wide. The second and third season continued to be the same, and the prospect brightened. James had returned from Mexico when the house first opened. May 24, 1S69, to be with his father and help him in the new undertaking, and our other sons came each summer for one or two months. Thus we were privileged to have our dear children witn us, and certainly that was an inestimable boon. Beverley was still teaching in "Winchester and studying law at the same time. Ean- dolph was living in Ottawa, having obtained a clerkship in the Department of Marine and Fisheries, and Ellis was engineering in 42 the Valley of \'i i^uiiiia : so wlicii the seasons cIoxmI our home i)ailv only coinprised om- dear daufi-liler, -huiies and ourselves. We closed up llie <)-ivater ])ai'l of that great hiti" house and tried to make our- selves eomfortahle in a few rooms, and dear ilag Mnnfoi'd hraved the rigors of a C*anada winter and remained with us one year. Oui- dear friend. Mr<. Train, also, who was ])laeed in a ti'ving position l)y ^Tr. Train's ineivasing eeecntrieities, spent that winter under Dr. track's medical care, and was very near us, at S])ringbank, coming there really to be Avitli ns. and we ti-ied to comfort her, for her luishand was at that time delivei'ing those Siiinhii/ night ungodly lectures in New York city, and she could not remain there. We s])ent many social evenings amongst friends in St. Catha- rine's, hut one evening, returning from a dinner given to us hy Tjawyer ^liller. your grandfather accidentally slipped on the icy pavement and spraine(l his ankle. Jemmie and one of the gentle- men (d' the party saw a sleigh standing in a yard op]iosite and youi- grand Tathei- was placed on it. the gentlemen di'ew it them- selves, and we wended our way home. The doctor considered it a ficrious s])rain, and for so large a man it could not be ex])ected that he would soon i-eeover. However, Di'. Mack treated it very skil- fully and vigoi'ously, (ii'st at home and then insisting upon his going to S])ringbank to try the 'j'ui'kish baths. After five or six weeks he was (jnite well, and nevei' afterwards felt even weakness in that ankle. Tlie (»ld hronehial cold had ne\-er left him — some- times better, sometimes worse, and was very troublesome during this winter — indeed, he suffered with it to the day of his death. 'I'he third summer my dear old mother came on to see us. IMy sistei". ^Irs. Cocke, was in irrrlclnul health, and she wished her to ti'\- the heiielif of the watei'. T never saw an\' one impiNU'e so rap- idh' and sal isfaetorilw and to th(^ (hiv of liei' death h'annie Cocke thought the St. ( \itharine"s watei' the most hene(ici;il minei'al water she had ever tried. The fourth year commi'iieed. hut liinineial ti'oubles eanu' with it. I->\-erv elfoi't was made, but before the season was over it was de-'ided that it would be w isei' not to eontiime what seemed to be a losing busiiu'ss; and so, nl'ter holding a meeting with the gentle- men interested and advising with (iovernor Ilowland, this unex- pected and uncongenial career was closed up. and auain life w;is before us with all its possibilities and seeming i))ipossibilit ies. I left, with deal- Magi^'ii'. befoi'e Ibis llnal decision had been readied, and found myself once more in dear ohl IJichmond. There was no dilhculty about yoTir grandfatbei'V I'cturning to his old bomt'. for the amni'st\ pi-oi-bimat ion had lieeii issued lhi-ee years b(d'ore. in .lulv, ISCS. Xothiie-' had excr been pi'oved, and it was well known now that none of the Soutlieniei-s in Canada had ever had an\- connection with oi' an\- knowled'.;-e of what had been termini 43 the assassination plot. Indeed, at that time your grandfather had never lieard tlie name of Surratt, and although he had formerly Ivnown tlie elder Booth and his son Edwin Booth, he did not even know that there was another son, and the name of Wilkes Booth was entirely strange to him. However, that seemed to be all over now. Different friends wrote to him, and especially Hon. Hamilton Fish, the Secretary of State, who had been our neighbor and friend in ante-l)ellnm times, wrote to your grandfather to come back to W ashington, or to go freely wherever he wished without fear of annoyance or molestation. Closing up his career in Canada, as no avenue of business opened then for him, he went to Xew York, with James, Ran. and Ellis. He hoped to find occupation for all, but there vrere trying delays. Beverly had returned to Winchester. Ellis received an offer from our good friend, Mr. Edward Coxe, of Huntsville, Alabama, to take a position in a new insurance com- pany, which was just started, and so he drifted away from us, and when before a year had i^assed the insurance company failed, he was advised by Mr. Coxe to go on to Memphis and try his fortune there. Mr. Coxe has e\er remained his friend, and his wife treated Ellis like a mntlier. Arriving in ]\remphis, with only a few dollars, he went thi'ongb a series of trials and privations, taking up first one occupation then another, until at last he entered the commercial house of Messrs. Thomas H. Allen & Sons, one of the largest cotton houses in the South. There he remained for years a trusted employee,. and did not leave them until there was an offer made him to become a partner in another house. He married the beautiful Miss Mabelle Morrison, has continued his home in Memphis, and hns a reputation that is unsurpassed as a man of the highest in- tegrity and honor, and is considered one of the best cotton mer- chants in that city. Randolph had given up his place in Ottawa, and was exceedingly anxious to study law, under his uncle, J. Ran- dolph Tucker, then Professor of Law at Washington and Lee Uni- versity. Arrangements were made for this, and he left for that purpose, and so James and his father renrained in Xew York. An English company owning silver mines in Utah had its offices in Xew York, and friends of ours interested themselves to secure an advantageous offer for James. They tlwuglit they had done so. He was asked to go out and take the place of superintendent, as the present incumbent was- not trustworthy. A fair salary was offered, and so once more this beloved son left home and friends and became a wanderer. It was midwinter. He made the trip to Salt Lake, arriving there with a very small amount of money. The understanding in Xew Yoi'k was that the old superintendent would meet bim there, i^-ivinu- e\'ervthing over to his charge, and that a conveyance would l)e at liis disposal to take him to the mines. The The .superintendent was in Salt Lake, but absolutely refused to be 44 (li>])liiee(l ; said lie was far away Irnm the company, and had every- thing' under his ciiiiU'ol. aiid that in (•i)ii~c<|uenee of heavy snows, A'c. t ra\(dliiiu' was iiii|iract icahle. and iH) unc cDuld i-eacii the mines then or. ])erhaps, for weeks or months. Thus situate(l. without a single acquaintanee, without money, far fi'oin liome or friends. antory: was treated coolly, almost i'oiii:hly at first: but the courage- ous, manly, gentlemanly and indcpendenl manner which charac- leri/Ct'd him made them listen, lie said he had a trunk of valuable clothing. (Src. at the hotel, and asked that they would receive tJiat in plcilgc. gi\iug him >unicient to buy a ticket to San Francisco, and holding his trunk until he could redeem it. At last thev con- sented to this. He laid in some food for the journey, bought a srro)i(l-cl(iss ticket, and hoped to reach his destination in three or four days; but wintei' storms, snow blockades. lV'c.. made it a jour- ney of over a week. He had sliai-ed all his provisions with the women ;ind children (Ui the train, and so landed ])ennile-s in San Francisco. lie can tell you of \]\< \arie(l fortune.-. So old fi-iends of his father and his own wrrr willing to help, but his proud spirit refused pecuniary aid and he only askeil work. Me. too. passed through the expei'iences that l'>llis afterwards did. at la-t became a purser on theologieal course at the Seminary at Alexandria. He entered upon the second years studies, feeling no need of the ])reparatory year, and was considered the first man in his class. Returning the following autumn, he had only been a month at the Seminary when he was stricken down with typhoid- feNci-. 1 was telegraphed for; at the end of a month I sent for my daughter to come and hel]) nurse him. He was very ill indeed. His friend and classmate, Mr. Jackson, the present Bishop of Ala- bama, gave up his room for my accommodation, and the class of six or eight formed themselves into a corps of nui-ses and gave most loving and adecpnite hel]). It was an anxious time. Ho was too ill to be moved. His life hung l)y a thread. There were few comforts, for we were in the bare rooms of college, without a female servant, and only the old janitors to attend to the fires. It was bitterly cold ; none of the attentions that money coubl ])i-ocui'e for the convenient suri'oundings of illness, but crcrij tliiiii/ that loving and willing hearts ciudd give us was freely bestowed. Tin- jn-ofessoi-s and their families, Bisho]) and Mrs. dohns and the young student friends did indeed bind us to them w ith cords of gratitude. Your dear grand- fatliei- was in New ^'ork. and came backwards and forwards: but I here was no aecomniodat ion for him, and so he had to bear his anxietv alone, and absent from this beloxcd son. .\gain we went tlii'oiigh all this, as we had done during all the trials of the war. willi the feeling that it must lie accepteil and borne with fortitude, and that |)ri\ation ami trouble wa- no new tliiiiL:'. I trust, loo. that we were able to reeoi;iii/.e (jodV hand in it all. 47 After three months or more, he seemed better, and we thought lie could be moved. His young friend, Mr. John Lloyd, lived near xVlexandria, and urged his going there. Lovingly and hospitably received, he continued to improve, with only an occasional draAV- back. Tlien we all returned to Richmond. It was a slow con- valescence, but as the Seminary session drew towards its close, Bev. thought lie eon Id resume study and stand the examinations. So he returned, took his ])lacc in tlie class, and was ordained deacon in 18:3. Pie became engaged to be married to Miss Maria Washington, one of his former ])upils in Winchester, and the daughter of his father's dear friend, ilr. Augustine Washington. Born at Mount A'ernon, her father, on selling his ancestral home to the ladies of the Mount Vernon Association (in order that it might be retained as a memo- rial and consecrated as General Washington's home), had moved to Fauquier county. At the opening of the war he had offered his services to his State, was on General Lee's staff, and killed in one of the early engagements. The mother had died 'shortly before, and the family of seven young children were committed to the care of their uncle, Mr. Richard Washington and wife. It was, tlierefore, very soon after his ordination that they were married, and the first few months of their married life were passed in Baltimore, he acting as assistant to Rev. Alfred M. Randolph, rector of Emmanuel church, now as- sistant Bishop of Virginia. In October, 18T3, dear Beverley en- tered upon his real ministerial duties as rector of St. John's church, Warsaw, Richmond county, and there the first nine happy years of their married life were })assed. The}' were greatly beloved, and they loved their country liome. He declined many calls to other parishes, but when he was invited to Norfolk to become the minister of old St. Paul's, the Bishop advised his going, and, after long deliberation, and many regrets at severing the ties which so closely l)Ound him to friends and parishioners in Richmond county, he tliought it his duty to make the change, and said good-bye to this beloved home. To a minister especially, a wise and loving wife is God's l^est gift, and we thank Him indeed for blessing our son with such a treasure. To your grandfather she was a daughter indeed, and he loved her most tndy and affectionately. Randolpli had graduated in law at AVashington and T^ee University, and decided to settle in the new town of Huntington, the then terminus of the Chesapeake and Ohio road. It was really a new place, but he bravely set out, determining to carve his way to success. By his father's advice, he formed a kind of ])ai'tiu'i'slii]) witli C. O. Parsons, the head lawyer then in Huntington, now t'ligaged in railroad projects, real estate Iriisiness. and the ownci' of the Xatural Bridge ])roperty, &c.. &:c. 48 Jt was iiol a pai'l iicrslii]) of jii'olits at all. and dcai' Kan.. Idd, strug- gled along with povortv and various ti'ials. However, he united, witii his elTorts to gain law practice, some newspajx'r work, by his T^ncle Randolpirs ad\ice moving to Charleston. \\'. \a.. the (-apital of the .State. He conducted the editorial cnhinins dT the Charleston Courier. On the '2i)t\\ April, ISTo. he niai'i'icd a daughter of hi.s father"^ old I'l'ien.d. dudu-e ^^^ W. Ci'unip. hut in 18T5 reniov(>d to Staunton, and lliought he had a I'aii' ])i'o-|icct id' success in his pro- fession. Of a natui'allv sensitiw and highly-st I'ung organization, he was, perhaps, too dclicaicly rornie(| to battle with the stoi'ni> of life, during the trying years through which he passed from the time he returned from Europe, when our whole country was shaken by the conflicts of war, to the stern necessity, as now. of ])roviding for llie dail\- wants of a faniilx'. TIicit was no want of coni'age. but ]»hysical inability int('i-)u)sed. l!o was suddcidy stricken with an illness, violent from the first, and foi' moi'e than a ycai' lie linng Ix'twei'u life and death. Con\alescence was slow. His father, howcvei-. secured for him the position of pi'ivate secretary to Hon. Samuel IJandall. Speaker of the House of Jicpresentatives. He filled that delicate position uscd'ully and satisfactorily, was l)elo\-ed and admireil by all wdio made his ac(|uaiidance. and seemei! to lie regaining his health, so that he hoped lo return to the practice of his profession in the s])ring. Divine wisdom ordered otherwise, and after a slioil illness of ten days, he was called to a highei' life. for. thaid< (iod. he had sonu' Ncai's l)(d'oi-e. in ISIo. made a public pi-ofession of his faith in Chri-1. and froiu that time led an earnest Christian life. lie died dul\ T). |SS(». his vouug widow and two little boys, living to guard his memorv, and his sons tiow neat'ing manhood, promising to be noble scifuis «d' tbeii- i-ace. and already nnndiei'eil a> young soldiei'^ in Chrisi "s aiany. Wdial moi'c can we ask for them but that thev ma\' i)e kept bv Ibe grace of (Iod and deli\(MH'd fi-om all itiI .' The death of ibi- belo\-e(l -on was a heaw blow to us. kour of our chddreii in ilea\en— -four hd't on earth- -Imt really believing them to be safe in theii- beaxcrdy hmue. su rel\- we could not soi'row "without hoite." and we had ^o fullx' tasted of ibe disappninl ments of life thai we thanked foi' them. e\cn tbou'^b life seemed moi'e di'eai'\' to u>. 'Idle life in W'a-blnglon fi'oin our I'eturn there in ISVi to IS'.IO was one continued ^trugu'le. For some winters business oi)ened brisklv. and with his uigned, and the wdiole alfair was abandoned, a new I'evolulioii in the K'epiil)li(; 51 of Ilayti furnif^hing a suflieiont excuse for deciding the matter. Thus was persecution again to fall upon one who, although entirely innocent, had already suffered so much. General Lew Wallace, one of the other Havtian commissioners, and who was on the court- martial which tried those implicated in the Lincoln assassination, and, necessarily, heard all the evidence, said that "any attempt to connect j\Ir. Tucker in any way with that conspiracy was worse than nonsense." Many high officials in the Kepuhlican party expressed surprise and' indfgnation, but President Harrison had given ear to the whispering tongue of slander, and was glad to have the excuse that it was not ex])edient to send any American envoys to Havti just then, and so the whole matter was dropped, and your grandfather returned to his mountain home. To one who was "so sensitive aljout anything that touched his lionor, tliis was a cruel blow, and he never' recovered from it. He had forgiven the old wrong; his Christian faith triumphed over natural resen1:ment, and lie wanted to l)e at peace with all the world, and now it was imkM'd a trial to have these old false cliarges resuscitated. He said to me, "This is mv death l>low; my heart is l)roken. I am too old and weary to rally from tliis blow'.' The most distressing thought was that' his dear grandchildren, all too young to know the real facts, would learn of this when older, and might not know what was true and what was false. His own children and his friends, of course, were convinced of his entire innocence, but they were passing away, and the younger generation growing up. He wanted his grandchildren never to blush when they heard his name, and to know that he could stand before his Maker as inno- cent in this matter as an unlxu-n babe. I give this, therefore, as my reason for writing this short memoir of one whose name and memorv are deserving of all honor, and hope that the name of Beverley Tucker will ever be mentioned with loving ])ride by all his deseendauts, and especially by his grandchildren. He was ill for two months — very ill — but God spared his life, and he braced himself with sufficient nerve to try the winter in Wash- ington again. This winter of 1889-"90 was quietly spent, the only liright feature being our celebration of the forty-ninth anniversary of our marriage, when friends, both old and new, gathered around us and hoped that the "golden wedding" would find us well and more prosperous, and that many of God's blessings might come to us. How bright and even joyous he seemed that day ! for his naturally sunny temper was always asserting itself, and he never at anv time allowed his private sorrows or troubles to cloud his intercourse with others. The fatal disease, "La Grippe," which had prevailed tor two years, at last ])rostrated your grandfather, and as he did not improve, we at last telegraphed for his dear friend and relative. Dr. Hunter McGuire. He came from Rich- iimiid to sec liiiii. niul enc()iii'ii,L;('(l ns to hope that he would smoii lie ln'ttcr. It was docidcd that wc should make tlic jouriicv to Hich- Jiiond. and a iiio. I do not like to tliiidv of it. We were eordially welcomed to Dr. McCiuire".s private hospital, 8t. Tjiike's, and all that medical skill and loving care could do was hestowed upon the (](';\v siiUVi-cr. So many dear friends rallied aronnd us. loo. and sui-h au iuicrest was manifested that it gratified Inui greatly. Crowds of in(|uiring friends came daily, and our heloxcd sou came from \orfoll>;. and was most of the time with us. Then our son KIlis came from Memphis, and at la-t the dear son in California was telegraphed for. He came only in time to be recognized, for human aid was of no avail, and (Jod's will was not our will. We have since learned to say, "Thy will be done," and to believe that the summons, which called this servant away from eai-tli. was a loving invitation for him to lay down his burden of pain and wt-ariness. that he might e.ntei- into the rest promised by the Savio\ir to all who go to Him. Strong in faith, and trusting oidy Iti the atoning blood of Chi'ist. lie fell asleep in .lesu> July 1. 1S!I(>. The closing hours of his life were crowned with the blessing and beauty of jieace. The chief trait in his character was love. He knows now that Loxc never faileth, and that "(iod is r.,ove,'" and so may we all meet at last in that Heavenly Homt' that God has nrovided foi- those who love Him. APPENDIX To the Editor Montreal Gazette: Sir,— I will feel very much obliged by the insertion of the following letter "To the People of the United States." I am, very respectfully, Yours, May 19, 1865. BEVERLEY TUCKER. Montreal. May 19, 1865. To the People of the United States: The proclamation of Andrew .Johnson, President of the United States, bearing date 2d May. 1865, is my justification for addressing you this circular. It is addressed alike to friends and foes. I have many of the former, whom the associations of other and happier years have warmly endeared to me, and I am proud to belie\ e I have done nothing to forfeit their respect and esteem. To the latter 1 can only say, that if the bitterness of their enmity is measured by my zeal, fidelity and devotion to my native State, and her sister sovereignties, it is well deserved; 1 bear it with grateful composure. This proclamation advertises me to the world as a projector and accomplice in the assassination of President Loncoln and the attempt upon Secretary Seward and his son, and a price is set upon my head! As no man, however, great or humble, can rest under so grave a charge without reply and refutation, so no man, however high in official position or lowly in private station, can hope to escape the strictest investigation of such a charge or evade the severest scrutiny into the motives which prompted it. He, at least, who charges me with such a crime must expect to be dealt with as a man. not a potentate — an individual not the chief magistrate of a once great and Christian country. He who thanks God, in the presence of the representatives of the "nations of the earth and his assembled countrymen, and in his public speeches rejoices that he is a "plebian" and a "demagogue," shall not with impunity brand me as a criminal. Before Him who knoweth the secrets of all hearts, and before the pure and elevated tribunal of Christendom, I fearlessly denounce him, in all his mighty panoply of power, in the plenitude of my own conscious innocence, a wicked and wilful libeller. He shall not escape me by the dastardly attempt to throw the responsibility on the supple tools, the venal minions, in his employ. Qui facit per alium. facit per se. I intend to strike at the head, not at the tail; and if God spares my life, Andrew Johnson, and not I, shall go down to a dishonored grave. But it is not for myself alone that 1 have essayed to breast the tide of popular tumult and now strive to evoke from it one ray of human reason. He has charged with complicity in the death of Mr. Lincoln one whose very name is a synonym of honor; whose fair name, even in the bitterness of our fallen fortunes, the breath of disparagement has never clouded. His patient toil, enduring and Christian spirit, his admirable State papers, and the magnanimity and clemency exercised towards his public ene- mies when within his power, have challenged the admiration and wonder of the world. Indeed, it is not too much to assert that his per- sistent resistance to all entreaties to retaliate for the innumerable outrages of the enemy upon the people and troops of the South was one of the chief causes of a partial unpopularity which grew up in the last two years of his administration. Fearing to mete out the punishment of what he falsely names the treason of this patriot and statesman, Andrew Johnson's little soul 54 seeks to suborn witnesses, and otherwise to obstruct the course of jus- tice by a packed military court. He proclaims to the world that Jef- ferson Davis is the instigator of the death of Abraham Lincoln, and offers from his bankrupt coffers the sum of one hundred thousand dol- lars for his head. It would have been a curious study for an unseen observer, skilled in physiognomy and a knowledge of the human char- acter, to have contemplated the countenance of this "counterfeit pre- sentiment" of a President, as he traced the lines which seek to consign this noble and brave gentleman to an ignominious death. Let him, therefore, beware that, in proving him to be a slanderer, we do not drive him an affrighted defender of himself before his own people, of the crime he attempts to fasten upon one, the latchet of whose shoes he is not worthy to unloose. What object then — whence the motive for conspiracy for his death, when Andrew Johnson was to be his inevitable successor? Where is- the record of his humanity, magnanimity, and mercy? Does any part of his public career point to the Christian virtues of charity, forgive- ness, or temperance? Let the hearths of Tennessee, made desolate by his relentless cruelty, answer. Was his character such as to commend him to the good opinion of any respectable man. North or South? Let the degrading spectacle recently exhibited on the floor of the Senate chamber answerl Nay, nay, citizens of the United States, the people of the South had no interest in the death of Abraham Lincoln. They, of all others, in the length and breadth of this western continent, would have been the last to desire or promote such an event. And Mr. Seward — what public man in the South did not believe him to be the only conservative adviser of President i^incoln, and of whom it is said to-day that he repudiates the atrocious proclamation, and that but for his ill- ness "he would have overruled the bloodthirsty lust of h's chief. Think you he, too, was a fit victim for the ..outhern blade! But let us glance now at the proof (or rather want of it) upon which he may rely for the conviction of the parties embraced in the proclamation of the President: J. Wilkes Booth has paid the penalty with his life of hav- ing been the perpetrator of the death of Mr. Lincoln. The recognition of him by so many, to whom his appearance was familiar, the manner of his death, and his dying declaration, fully attest this fact. We are. therefore, charged with complicity only. In the absence or suppression of all evidence to implicate us, we are forced to confine our inquiry to the private or public motive in the heart of any man in the South, or connected with her interests, at such a crisis, to put an end to the life of Abraham Lincoln. It is equally a maxim of common sense, and the established law of evidence, that no man will be adjudged guilty of any crime who cannot be shown to have been in a position likely to be benefited, in some way, by its commission; whilst the suspicion rarely fails to settle upon one of whom the contrary is established. Cui Bono! is the ques- tion of questions which I respectfully put to the reflecting people of the United States. What object could I, or any of those named m the proclamation, have had in desiring, much less conspiring for, the death of Mr Lincoln? It is true he has prosecuted the war against the State, to which I deemed my highest allegiance due, with such unrelenting energy and extraordinary success as to destroy our last hopes. But those who know him best claimed for him humane and kindly qualities; that "would have plead like angels against the aeep damnation of his taking off " The surrender of our armies and the general capitulation that ensued inspired us wua the hope that these properties would be exercised towards an overpowered but uonorable foe, and that kindly consideration would impel him to exercise u.s power in healing the 55 yet fresh bleeding wounds of our country. Indeed, it is known that several of our most eminent public men. among them Generals Lee and Johnston, partaking of this confidence, promptly declared tnai the death of Mr. Lncoln was a great calamity to the South. Where, then, was the motive? Murder is never committed without a motive, either in interest, revenge, or some kindred quality of the human heart. The valorous twenty-eight, those doughty knights, who failed to capture alive, as the interests of justice demanded they should have done, one poor crippled youth, have sealed the only lips that could unravel this dark and mighty mystery. Did they, it has been more than once pertinently asked, act in this respect under instructions, and if not, why have they so promptly received the plaudit, "Well done, good and faithful servants?" Would it have proved inconvenient to any one to have had him taken with the power to speak? Alas! we can never know all that died with this daring, yet misguided young man, and we are left to grope our way among the motives of the living, to fix complicity in this fearful tragedy. I have shown, in the only way open to us at present, that this charge cannot lie against the South, or any of her right-thinking and intelligent people; and surely, the late lamentation that has gone up throughout the North, from the Kenebec to the Pacific, at the premature demise of their beloved chief, acquits the people of that section of complicity in this. It follows then from this course of reasoning, that there could have been no widespread conspiracy; that the plan and perpetration were confined to a few individuals, and to no particular section of the country. Did Booth commit this fearful deed with no other motive than that which inspired the youthful Erostratus to fire the Temple of Diana at Ephesus? If so, why did he call upon Mr. .Johnson, eight hours before the time fixed for his fell purpose? Did he call upon him with the design of assassi- nating him, as has been attempted to be shown by the newspapers in the interest of the Government? Surely, none of his acts bear out the influence that he was mad enough to suppose that he could murder Mr. .Johnson at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and Mr. Lincoln eight hours thereafter in a public theatre. What, then, was the motive of his call, and how came Booth to address the Vice-President of the United States in words of such familiarity, showing certainly acquaintance, if not intimacy with him? "I do not wish to disturb you, but would be glad to have an inter- view. (Signed) . "J. Wilkes Booth." These are words of strange and mysterious import, and are not to be lightly set aside in so great a matter, as unmeaning and insignifi- cant. Is it doubted that if Mr. Johnson were a private citizen, instead of the Chief Magistrate of the United States, seeking to despoil hon- orable men of their characters, and to visit upon them the ignominous death of the gallows, that he would have been among the first brought to the bar of that immaculate substitution of the indefeasible right of trial by jury, the "Military Bureau of Justice"? Is there one of all that multitude of prisoners of both sexes — the refinement of whose tortures are made the theme of glowing recital in the northern jour- nals — who could hope to escape conviction, with such a communication upon that very memorable day, from the confessed assassin himself? Is it impossible that Booth may have met Mr. Johnson in that lower circle they were both known to frequent, and thus have formed an in- timacy which a common vice begets. Andrew Johnson, let it be borne in mind, has been noted for many years past as an almost frenzied aspirant for the Presidency. All the arts and appliances which the 56 fruitful brain of the unscrupulous demagogue could invent and employ have been exhausted to attain this goal of his audacious ambition. After a struggle of years — and not until the States of the South, including his own, had separated themselves from all political connec- tion with the North — did he reach the position of second civil officer of that Government. Then the prize, so long dazzling his vision, seem- ed within his grasp. Like Ludovico, did he touch his brow in anticipa- tion of the encircling diadem? But the illusion was shortlived, for the public and private criticisms pervading all classes upon that most dis- gi-aceful scene of March 4th was well calculated to dampen his hopes of the realization of his long-cherished aspirations, and remove farther, if not forever, from his grasp the glittering prize. The crimson blush of mingled indignation and shame mantled the cheeks of ambassadors, senators, justices, and the lesser dignitaries that witnessed the disgust- ing scene, while the saddest countenance in all that throng, we are told, was that of Abraham Lincoln, who, it is said, on the evening of the same day at the Inauguration Ball, declined to recognize him. The prayers of a whole people — friends and foes of President Lincoln — ascended to Heaven that his life might be preserved, and thus spare them the humiliation of having such a man to rule over them! Are we to l)elieve that all this passed unnoticed by Andrew Johnson, and if not, is his the nature to harbor no resentments? That great Master who, as if by inspiration, knew, and so faithfully delineated, the darlv workings of the human heart, gives us fearful instances, where ambi- tion, interest, and revenge have impelled men to enact like crimes, and puts in ghostly lips the fearful disclosure to the sorrowful and half- suspecting son of the Danish Monarch: " 'Tis given out, that sleeping in mine orchard, A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abused; but know, thou noble youth. The serpent that did sting thy father's life, Now wears his crown." And how did it happen that Andrew .Johnson, of all men fondest of demagoguing in public, should have remained quietly in his room upon the fatal evening, when to the attraction of the theatrical entertainment were to be added a wild and tumultuous demonstration at the presence of their great military hero? True, it was Good-Friday, which, in most Christian countries, is only wont to be celebrated by solemn worship and holy praise. Would that the mantle of Christian caarity could be extended, and that his seclusion could be ascribed to this laudable cause. And how are we to account for the mysterious and concealed manner in which the whole of the judicial examination is conducted, for the avowed purpose of ascertaining all the particulars of this dreadful tragedy, and of bringing the real culprits to justice? Why should the prosecutors, more than the alleged criminals, fear the light of day? All this, it is true, is l)ut hypothesis, and yet when you support it by the fact that Andrew .Johnson is the only solitary individual of the thirty-five millions of souls comprised in that land who could possibly realize any interest or benefit from the perpetration of this deed, and that Booth irafi not vai)turf'd aUve. as he unquestionably could have been, we must educe some one more plausible, ere we wholly reject this. Dead men tell no tales, and the wantonly hushed voice of this unhappy man leaves behind his bloody tragedy a fearful mystery. Certain it is, Mr. .Johnson, with such a record, is entitled to no "charter illimitable 5? as the wind, to blow on whom he please," and especially upon those against whom he knows he has not a scintilla of nnsuborned testimony. As soon as the proclamation appeared, Mr. Sanders and myself offered to voluntarily surrender ourselves for trial, upon terms that have not met with disfavor from even the most rabid portion of the United States press. Indeed, in several instances, the acceptance of them is pressed with much fairness and great earnestness. Nor can it reason- ably be objected that we prescribed our own tribunal. The trial by- jury has been set aside in your once proud republic, and all the princi- ples of the great charter of your liberties, have been merged, in defiance of the most sacred constitutional obligations, into a worse than military despotism. A Bureau of Military Justice (God save the mark!) has been constituted, with all the damnable features of the "Star Chamber," before which are to be tried, men ichose linearie is not tainted with murder, and whose antecedents justify no suspicion of guilt, save what an unholy revenge and gold-bought testimony furnishes. The time- honored rules of evidence are no longer extant, and it is coolly reported fi-om Washington, with at least semi-ofhcial authority, that one witness presented himself to the Secretary of War, and stated that he was willing to appear and testify for the Government, upon the condition that he should be examined in secret, and that his name should never be made public— to which humane and reasonable proposition the Sec- retary of War gave his cordial assent! The animus of Andrew Johnson is glaringly evinced in the composi- tion of this court. With the exception of two, the members of this court are wholly unknown to fame. Its President is Major-General David Hunter, whose savage cruelties and wanton atrocities in his cam- paign in Virginia, outstripping "Butler the Beast," have made his name unsurpassingly infamous at home and throughout the civilized world. That moral hisus nature, himself childless, and whom, as if in resentment for God's wise provision that monsters should not pro- pagate their species, blackened his soul and charred his hands with the burning ruins of the homes of his own unoffending kindred, where, and among whom, he had in youth and manhood enjoyed the most elegant and lavish hospitalities. The second, the Judge Advocate, is a man— mankind, I crave your pardon— a worm — little animals for- give the insult— who from his safe ambush delights to belch forth the virus of his cowardly persecutions upon those before whose noble presence his dastard spirit would quail— one whom the alphabet that spells Thersites, Squalidity and Blackguards, refuses its letters to tell us who he is, and hyperbole for meanness, is an ellipsis for Holt. Before such a tribunal no sane man is expected voluntarily to surrender himself for trial. There is nothing left for me, therefore, but to endure for the present the painful position of one charged with a crime, and denied by his accusers the common privilege of the worst felon, a trial before a fair and impartial tribunal. In the letters and communications which form the appendix to this circular are contained my most solemn asserva- tions of mv innocence and ignorance of any. and everything connected nearly or remotely with this tragedy. I reiterate them here with all solemnity, and trust that when the fearful madness that rules the hour shall have run its course, and the principles of constitutional liberty and free government shall reassert their empire, I shall be able, under a kind Providence, to return and show to you and to the world that whatever of confidence and esteem I have enjoyed among you have not been unworthily bestowed. And now one word of parting to my native State and her enduring and gallant people, and I am done. Of her and them shall even the 58 hostile historian write tout est perdu fors Vhonneur! It is a bitter trial to be forced to turn my back on her in this darkest hour of her history. Not a spear of grass that points heavenwards from the graves of her noble dead, but is dearly prized by me. Not a tradition of her glorious past, that does not fill my heart with i)roud but sad emotions. If I may not adopt the morbid utterance of the great Venetian con- spirator who is sought to be made my prototype in crime, that "the world and I have long been jangling, and cannot part on better terms than now," I may truly say, that, with such a future, life has few charms for me I Indeed, I have never wished to survive the subjugation of /irginia. The work of the ruthless destroyer has laid waste her fair fields and beautiful cities; and the lovely valley of the Shenandoah, the home of my birth, and where my fathers and my kindred sleep, shall no longer bud and blossom to my enraptured vision. My humble and feivent prayers shall ever be that a just and merciful God will, in His own time, "undertake for us," and in His own way bring the "wickedness of the wicked to an end," and again "establish the just." Respectfully, your former fellow-citizen, BEVERLEY TUCKER. The object of the following "Appendix" is to lay before the public, whatever is pertinent in its character, preceding, as well as subsequent to, the infamous proclamation of Andrew Johnson. This plot to seek to implicate President Davis, myself and others first declared itself in insidious and dark mutterings of newspaper correspondents — further developing into direct charges by subsidized editors, as if preparing the public mind — and finally culminating in the proclamation itself. The proffer of Mr. Sanders and myself to surrender ourselves for trial has been contemptuously ignored; while Mr. Clay, in return for his prompt and manly note addressed to the Federal commander, is under- going solitary confinement in a damp cell at Fortress Monroe, and probably, like Mr. Davis, "manacled." It will be recollected that the Confederate cruiser, "Florida." was sunk Jiy accident in Hampton Roads, and no atonement proffered. Is it impossible there may be in reserve for the civilized world the severer shock of the wanton sacrifice of the lives of two gentlemen — already in broken health — from the effects of an enfeebling and unhealthy incarceration? MoxTiiK.vi.. April 25, 1865. Hon. Horace Greely, New York. U. S. America: Sir. — I find the following in the New York Tribune of Saturday, the 22d ult., taken from its Washington "Occasional Correspondent"; "One of President Lincoln's last official acts was a deed of mercy towards his enemies. He expressly stated that he meant to give the leading Confederates an opportunity to leave the country. This tele- gram from Portland, Maine, came to Washington. "Beverley Tucker and .Jacob Thompson will be here to-morrow in disguise to take the steamer for Europe. What shall we do? "Mr. Lincoln directed the authorities to let them go. A few hours later he fell by the assassin's bullet, and beside his deathbed a member of his Cabinet countermanded that order. Fortunately, for their own lives. Thompson and Tucker did not come to the United States, after the conspirators had murdered the only one who could have saved them from their doom." Permit me to say in reply to this, that it has rarely been my fortune to see so much misrepresentation in so few lines. In the first place, I have never had, as the al)ove would seem to imply, the slightest official 59 connection with Mr. Tliompson in Canada, though I am quite sure he is as free from the implied charge, as I claim myself to be. My mission here from the Confederate States is entirely free, even were it fully understood, from any objection of either the United States or Colonial Governments. Its entire success would have involved no necessity for the slightest impingement of the Neutrality Laws of Her Majesty's Government, on the one hand, nor even a concealment of its purposes from that of the United States Government, on the other. The late President, himself, was advised of the business in which I was engaged. Both he and his Secretary of State, Mr. Seward, knew that it had no connection whatever with any military raids or hostile expeditions into the States, from any quarter. I cannot, therefore, even as a ••leading Confederate." permit myself to be held up before the world as a fit subject of President Lincoln's mercy or condemnation. I nave neither sought the one nor feared the other. Educated in a school whose political principles taught me that my first allegiance was due to my native State, I freely gave all that I had and loved to what I conscien- tiously believed to be her righteous cause — and so it shall ever be — her people shall be my people, and her God my God. For this, I claim no praise, and submit to no censure. In the second place, I have no intention to go to Europe, and if I had, certainly none to debark at any port in that section of the United States termed New England, where valor for the most part resides in mobs and the patriotism of whose people oozes out (without regard to color) in "st-dstitttes." Oh, no! I never intend to go there. If I should, however, conclude to sail, look out for me in New York, where the manly spirit of freemen rises above all these meaner passions of the race. The fact is, this charge that I was to go to Portland "in disguise" is one of the many absurd, sensational fabrications that are unceasingly emanating from the brain of that vulgar class of cowardly American detectives, with which this gracious asylum of the oppressed, in obe- dience to the stern demand for an obsequious neutrality, is permitted to be infested. But let them pass — alas! they are more "sinned against than sinning," and unhappily nnist eat. albeit, it is at the expense of false inventions, caring nothing whose character is maligned, so it be a "Rebels." But if the attack upon me had only this extent, I should not have troubled you with this notice of it. There is contained in the last paragraph a latent, but not the less offensive, inuendo, that I was either a party to, or cognizant of, the tragedy that has thrown your country into such grief and widespread lamentation. This insinuation I repel toith iinaffected indignation and seorn. come from whatsoever source it may; and I feel that I do not rely in vain upon you by asking a place in your columns for its refutation. I have not forgotten you, sir, as the fearless and humane pioneer of a peace, upon terms not intended to be degrading to the South: and I will not believe you will withhold this privilege from me, public enemies as we yet are. I shall not humiliate myself by a further denial than is conveyed by the re- sentment I have just expressed, at the mere suggestion of my com- plicity in a deed from which every sentiment of my moral nature revolts. I will simply conclude with what I presume has given rise to the use of my name in this connection. On Thursday, the 13th ult., there appeared in the afternoon papers a telegraphic report of an order of Major-General Weitzell, consenting to the convocation of the General Assembly of Virginia, at Richmond, accompanied by an invitation to prominent and other citizens of the State for the purpose of conferring as to the most eligible mode of 60 restoring peace, and generously proffering safe conduct to and from the city to all who desired to answer the call in person. Feeling naturally the deepest interest in so important a movement, affecting the future of my fellow-citizens in Virginia, and desiring to contribute my humble influence to so laudable an end, I at once telegraphed Mr. Secretary Seward substantially as follows: MoxTKEAL. 13th April, 1865. Hon. Wm. H. Seward. Secretry of State, etc.. Washington. D. C: I perceive in this afternoon's papers a call for the assembling of the members of the Virginia Legislature and other citizens in Richmond; and I have the lionor to request permission to proceed thither, under, and subject to. the conditions set forth in General Weitzell's order. Please answer. (Signed) BEVERLEY TUCKER. The next day was Good-Friday, and as this is strictly observed in all Her Majesty's dominions as a sacred holy day, the telegraph offices were closed, and I expected no reply until the Saturday. Upon opening the morning journal, however, I found the telegraphic report of the assas- sination of the President and the attempt upon the lives of Secretary Seward and his son. No one in this community could have been more shocked by this announcement than myself. Of course I received no answer to my dispatch, and know nothing to this day of the manner in which it was received. It is perhaps fortunate that I did not obtain the consent of the Secretary to go on, as in that case I should have arrived in Washington the day succeeding the tragic occurrence, and as your correspondent coolly suggests, should have paid the penalty with my life, by mob violence, for having entered the United States, notrcithHtanding I should have had the permit of the authorities at Washington .' Such, sir. is my reply to the paragraph of your "Occasional Cor* respondent," which I am sure your sense of justice, even to a political and public enemy, will impel you to insert. I am, very respectfully. Your obedient servant, BEVERLEY TUCKER. MoxTKEAL, May 4, 1865. To the President of the United States: SiH. — I see by your proclamation of May 2nd that you recite that there is evidence in the -Bureau of Military Justice." that I '•incited, concerted, and procured" the assassination of the late President Lincoln, and the attempts upon the lives of Secretary Seward and his son. If furnished a copy of that evidence, I pledge myself to disprove it, and every obligation of honor, honesty, civilization, and Christianity should impel you to order it to be sent to me here. Your obdt. servt., BEVERLEY TUCKER. The foregoing is a copy of a letter I have written to President John- son, and which I have thought proper to send you: Respectfully, &c., BEVERLEY TUCKER. Hon. E. M. Stanton. Secretary of War. Washington City: Returned and officially endorsed, "Receipt declined." To the People of Canada: Mo.\TRE.\L. 4th May, 1865. I have this moment seen the Proclamation of Andrew Johnson, acting 61 President of the United States, stating that "it appears from evidence in the Bureau of Military Justice that the atrocious murder of the late President, Abraham Lincoln, and the attempted assassination of the Hon. W. H. Seward, Secretary of State, was incited, concerted and procured by and between Jefferson Davis, late of Richmond, Va., and Jacob Thompson, Clement C. Clay, Beverley Tucker, George N. Sanders. W. C. Cleary and others, rebels and traitors, against the Government of the United States, harbored in Canada," and offering rewards for the apprehension of the accused, $25,000 being the sum offered for my arrest. It is scarcely possible that such proclamation would have been issued unless some such "evidence" has been adduced. What such "evidence" is I am totally at a loss to conjecture. I am compelled, therefore, to content myself with the declaration that whosoever hath sworn to anything authorizing in the slightest degree suspicion of my having "incited, concerted or procured," or of any knowledge whatever by me of the attacks made on the President and Mr. Seward, or any acts or projects of a kindred character, or of any plan to kidnap or capture either of them, or any of the Feder-al authorities, hath black- ened his soul with diabolical perjury. Until information reached here of the attack on President Lincoln by Mr. J. Wilkes Booth and that on Mr. Seward by some other person, I did not know that any such person as J. Wilkes Booth existed. I had never heard of him before. I do not know any of the persons in arrest at Washington, and never heard of them till I read the notices in the U. S. newspapers of their appre- hension. I have within a day or two past made enquiry and ascer- tained that Mr Booth left St. Lawrence Hall, Montreal, on the 27th October last. The officers of the Ontario Bank state that on that day he purchased of the bank a Bill on England for £61 12s. Id., for which he paid in American Gold, and at the same time made a deposit of $855 Canada money, which yet remains to his credit, and that he stated he intended to run the blockade. Whether he made such attempt, or went into the U. States by railroad. I have not ascertained. The clerks in the St. Lawrence Hall inform me that he arrived at the house on the 18th of October, being here nine days. I was not in Montreal during the time. My association with the other gentlemen named in this atrocious proclamation has been intimate for years, and I admit it would be strange if they had any knowledge of Mr. Booth's purposes that I should be in utter ignorance of it. I have to-day appealed to President Johnson and Secretary Stanton to allow me copies of the alleged "evidence," with respect to myself, to give me a chance to disprove it. BEVERLEY TUCKER. MoxTREAL. May 4, 1865. To Andrew Johnson. President of the United States: Sir. — Your proclamation is a living, burning lie. known to be such by yourself and your artful surroundings; and all the hired perjurers in Christendom shall not deter us from exhibiting to the civilized world your hellish plot to murder our patriot. Christian President, Jefferson Davis. We recognize in many of your most distinguished generals men of honor, and we do not believe their association, even with you, can so brutalize them as to prevent their doing justice to a public enemy under such grave charges. Be this as it may, we challenge you to select any nine of the twenty-six Generals that we name to form a Court-Martial for our trial, to be convened at the United States Fort, 62 Rouse's Point, or any other place, that you may not have the power to incite the mob to destroy us en route: Generals Scott, Grant, Sher- man, Meade, Hosecraiis, Howard, Buinsidc, lloolvcr, Sclioticld. Wriiilit, Dix, Cadwallader, Emory. Blaii'. Pleasanton, Logan. Steele. Peck. Hatch. Franklin. Rodman. Alexander, Carr, Reynolds, and Meagher. The money that you have so prodigally offered to have the neutrality of an unoffending neighboring State violated by the unwan-antable seizut'e of our persons, to be handed over to defray the professional and other expenses of our trial, to the lawyers that we shall designate, and 'ho are in no wise to be prejudiced by appearing in our defence. Our wit- nesses, also, to have the fullest protection, and upon our acquittal of the charges preferred against us. we to be permitted to return inder safe conduct. In conclusion, we say we have no acquaintance whatever with Mr. Booth, or any of those alleged to have been engaged with him. ^\ e have never seen or had any knowledge in any wise of him or tbem — ^he never wrote us a note he never sought an intervieic with us. GEO. N. SANDERS, BEVERL,EY TLCKER. (Copy.) Montreal. May 6, 1865. My L(U!1). — I have the honor herewith to enclose for your Elxcellency's information and perusal the extraordinary proclamation of Andrew .Johnson, President of the United States of America, together with three communications which I have addressed in reply thereto, respectively, to Hon. Horace Greeley. Editor Tribune, to "the People of Canada." and, in conjunction with Mr. G. N. Sanders, to the President of the Uni e i States; to all of which I beg leave, respectfully, to invite your Excel- lency's impartial consideration. I have the honor to be, with high respect, Your Excellency's most obdt. humble servt., BEVERLEY TUCKER. To His Excellency. Lord Monk, Governor-General, &c.. &c. : The receipt of the above was obligingly acknowledged. (Copy.) Montreal. C. E., May 4, 1865. Sir. — I take the liberty of addressing you this note, in reference to a Proclamation, bearing date 2nd of May, 1865. which appears in this morning's papers, in which my name, among others, is mentioned as having had complicity with or knowledge of the assassination of Presi- dent Lincoln, and the attempts upon the lives of Secretary Seward and his son. I beg to enclose you a letter which I addressed on the 25th of April ult. to the Hon. Horace Greeley, editor of the New York Tribune, in reply to a similar charge, by one of its correspondents. I had indulged the hope that this letter would have put at rest so atrocious and groundless an allegation. In this I am disappointed, and I merely write to you as the Ambassador of England at Washington, to reiterate the sentiments contained in the letter referred to, and further to state, without mental reservation, that I not only had no knowledge or suspicion — even the vaguest, — of the conspiracy, but that it so happens I had never heard the name of .1. Wilkes Booth, never saw it written or in print until the dav after the assassination of Mr. T^incoln. Furthermore. I will state that I am perfectly willing to submit to yourself (and the Colonial authorities here) all the official papers and correspondence I have had with the Confederate States Govern- 03 ment since I left Richmond in January, 1864, from wtiich it will be seen that the statements in my leLter are fully maintained. I have the honor to be, Your Excellency's most obdt. servt., BEVERLEY TUCKER. To His Excellency, Sir Frederick Bruce, British Ambassador, Wash- ington City, U. S. A., fee, &c., &c. (v'opy.) Montreal. May 10, 1865. Hon. Wm. H. Seicard. Secretary of State. Washington City. D. C: Dea): Sir, — I see by the reports of your surgeon that you and your son are convalescing from the terrible wounds so diabolically inflicted upon you. and I beg you to believe that I am sincerely gratihed that it is so. Let one of the first acts of your convalescence be one of justice, even to a political enemy. I do not ask mercv of any earthly being. I sup- plicate the benefits of this quality only of my God. I am charged with a most horrible crime — one against which every sentiment of my moral nature revolts. A price has been set uoon my head and pains taken to brand me as a criminal guiltv of this deed and flying from justice, not only on th^-s continent, but in Europe. I did not believe that this pro- clamation received your sanction at the time, and the oublic journals in the United State- seem to justify this conclusion. Why will you not then, use your influence to procure me a fair trial? If the terms named in the joint letter of Mr. Sanders and myself do not meet favor, let others be submitted. I can not only establish my entire innocence, but, if permitted, can prove to the satisfaction, even of my toorst ene- mies, that my sojourn here bas been marked bv no solitary act of a violent character. My communications to yourself bear out the correct- nes' of this assertion. ?fy telegram to you on the 13th of April, only the (lay before the terrible tragedies, shows an animus not onlv free from all mischievous intent, but entirely respectful to vourself. I have a family who are very dear to me — and an extensive acquaintance at home and abroad — whose good esteem and respect I greatly value. Common humanity simply demands that I have an orjoortunity before a fair tribunal to acquit myself and my name of this grievous and atrocious charge. Hoping yourself and son mav soon be entirely restored, I am, very respectfully. Your obdt. servt.. BEVERLEY TUCKER. 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