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SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS IN 
 OLD VIRGINIA 
 
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SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS IN 
 OLD VIRGINIA 
 
 With some account of the Hfe of the Author 
 and some history of the people amongst 
 whom his lot was cast,— their char- 
 acter, their condition, and 
 their conduct before the 
 war, during the war 
 and after the war 
 
 By 
 
 John Herbert Claiborne, M. A., M. D. 
 
 Honorary Alumnus of the University College of Medicine, 
 Honorary Fellow and ex-President of the Medical Society of 
 Virginia, Corresponding Member of the Gynecological So- 
 ciety of Boston, Fellow elect of the Victoria Institute of 
 Great Britain, Member of the First Pan-American Congress, 
 Formerly Member of the House of Representatives and Sen- 
 ate of Virginia, Lately Major and Surgeon of the 12th Vir- 
 ginia Infantry, Mahone's Brigade— Subsequently Surgeon 
 on the' General Medicai^Staff of the Confederate Army, and 
 Executive ' Officer in charge of all Military Hospitals at 
 Petersburg, Va., etc., etc. 
 
 Teveadd <E>&)<? 
 WITH PORTRAITS 
 
 New York and Washington 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 1904 
 

 Li«R*h'' -■ CON<:.«E3S 
 Two Copies RecBiyed 
 
 MAR 25 1904 
 
 CLASS ^ XXc. No, 
 
 5x7-70 
 COrY 8 
 
 Copyright, 190,1 
 By JOHN HERBERT CLAIBORNE 
 
To my only Sister, 
 Mrs. Mary Augusta Thomas, 
 
 of Marion, Alabama, 
 
 who as comrade of my early years will read with 
 more interest than others this record of personal 
 reminiscences, and who, as to the rest, will doubt- 
 less prove my most lenient critic, this volume is 
 affectionately inscribed. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. - - - Personai, and For My Personal Friends. 
 
 My Birth — The Character of the People Amongst Whom I 
 Was Bom — At School at Leasburg, North Carolina — My 
 Mother — At Ebenezer Academy — I Attend Randolph-Macon 
 College — Emory & Henry College — Again at Randolph- 
 Macon — I Matriculate at University of Virginia — To Phila- 
 delphia, Where I Take Diplomas From Jefiferson Medical 
 College, the Pennsylvania Hospital, and the Philadelphia 
 Obstetrical Institute — On Staff of Jefferson Medical College 
 — I Return to Virginia and Look for a Location — Decide 
 on Petersburg — Some First Experiences, 17 
 
 CHAPTER H. -------- Petersburg in the Fifties. 
 
 The City as I Found It — Some Early History — The Population, 
 and a Comparison — The Society — The Fourth of July — 
 Hospitality and Liberality — The Business Interests — Growth 
 of the City — Its Hotels and Taverns — A Professional ad- 
 venture — Principal Resources and Finances — Its Municipal 
 Government — The Churches and their Pastors — The Color- 
 ed Congregations — The Press of Petersburg in 1850 and 
 Later — The Schools and Teachers — The Petersburg Bar 
 and Some Reminiscences of Its Honored Members — The 
 Physicians of Petersburg — Recollections of Many Notable 
 Members of the Profession Before and During My Time — 
 Petersburg's Rise After the War, 40 
 
 CHAPTER III. - - - - Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period. 
 
 Politics in the Past — The Two Parties of the Day — The 
 Alliance of the Whig and Know-Nothing Parties to Fight 
 the Democratic Party — The Wreck of the Whig Party — 
 
Contents. 
 
 ]\Iy First Vote Cast With the Democratic Party — Nomi- 
 nated by the Democratic Party for the House of Dele- 
 gates — An Unwilling and Unexpected Launch Upon the 
 Sea of Politics — Everything Goes Democratic — Some Ac- 
 count of Events in the Exciting Sectional Drama Leading 
 to the Outbreak of Hostilities — A Nefarious Mission — The 
 John Brown Raid the First Gun of the Fight — I Decline 
 Re-election, but Am Renominated Against IMy Wish and 
 Elected — Serve in i857-'58 and Again in i859-'6o — An Ac- 
 count of Events and Measures Immediately Preceding the 
 War — My Position Made Clear — Speeches in the Senate 
 and Elsewhere — The Nominations of the National Conven- 
 tions — The Secession Convention — The Peace Conference — 
 The Call For Troops From Virginia by the Government 
 the Last Straw — The Union Men of Virginia — A Visit to 
 Washington and Some Things Heard and Seen — Opinions 
 of Eminent Men North and South — Governor Letcher's 
 Proclamation, 128 
 
 CHAPTER IV. - - - - The War. 
 
 The Fourth Virginia Battalion Receives Orders — Quartered in 
 Norfolk — The Companies and Oflicer.s — I Accompany the 
 Battalion as Captain and Assistant Surgeon — Am Again 
 Elected to the Senate — Ordered to Take My Scat by the 
 Secretary of War — Obey the Order and Resign, and Apply 
 For Orders For the Army — An Interview — Ordered to Open 
 Hospitals in Petersburg and Made Surgeon in Charge — 
 Appointed Post Surgeon — How Some Supplies Were Ac- 
 quired — Events Preceding Siege of Petersburg — Arrival of 
 the Enemy — Incidents of the Siege — Ordered to Remove the 
 Hospital Patients and Correspondence with General Lee — 
 The "Fiasco of the War" — An Adventure Before the Lines 
 of the Enemy — "In Vinculis" — The Crater — General Ma- 
 hone's Part in the Crater Affair — I Am Visited By a Shell 
 at Night — More Incidents of Our Great Generals, And An- 
 other of Mahone in Particular — What Manner of Man Was 
 He? What Manner of Men Were They? — Five Forks — 
 Evacuation and Events Lnmediately Following, 191 
 
Contents. xi 
 
 CHAPTER V. - - - The Surrender and Events Foi.eo\ving. 
 
 The 2nd of April, 1865 — I Prepare to Evacuate — A Pathetic 
 Scene — I Note the Absence of My Dog Jack — A "Borrow- 
 ed" horse — On to Amelia Court House — An Invitation 
 From Mahone — Romulus Given His "Free Papers" — A 
 Brave Quartermaster — I Lose All My Possessions Through 
 a Yankee Cavalry Raid — The Asset of a Broken Concern — ■ 
 "A Swig From the Same Canteen" — The Best Forager I 
 Ever Saw — Signs of Demoralization — Fall Into the Hands 
 of the Enemy — I Give Away a Pair of Spurs — Interview 
 With General Devlin — An Invitation to a Much-Needed 
 Breakfast — I Show the "Sign of Distress" — Ordered To Be 
 Paroled — A Night Adventure— Mahone Again and a Parole 
 Blank — An Inhospitable Reception and the Very Opposite — 
 A Question of Boots — With My Wife and Children Once 
 More — A disagreeable incident — The Finale of The Old 
 Regime, 259 
 
 CHAPTER VI. ------ - Events Following the War. 
 
 My Dog Again — I Am Warned to Leave Petersburg — Make 
 A Purchase and Start for Louisburg, N. C. — Back Again 
 and to Work — The Condition of the South Before the War 
 An Anomaly of Content and Happiness — The Military Gov- 
 ernment — The Carpet-Bag Government and Its Curse — 
 Opinions of Some Eminent Northerners On the Reconstruc- 
 tion Period — Will History Reproduce Itself in the Philip- 
 pines — The Evidence of Robbery, 311 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Last Fight at Five Forks— Mr. Granier— What Manner of 
 Man Was He — In the Interest of Justice to Mahone — Old 
 Blandford Church— Personal Ancestry — American Bastiles 
 — Dahlgren's Raid— "Who Fired the First Gun?" 330 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In Februar}^, 1900, the author received a request, 
 through Mr. F. B. Sanborn, of Massachusetts, to read 
 a paper on the "Changes in the Sociology of Old Vir- 
 ginia During the Last Half of the Last Century," be- 
 fore the National Sociological- Society of America, to 
 convene in Washington on May 2, 1900. He acknowl- 
 edged the compliment, and accepted the invitation ; but 
 circumstances made it impracticable for him to fill the 
 engagement. 
 
 In gathering data for the fulfilment of that task, the 
 author filed many of the facts recited in the first chap- 
 ter of this volume. Becoming more interested in the 
 subject, he continued to write, until reminiscences 
 grew and multiplied, and crowded one upon another, 
 and the whole scope and design of the original inten- 
 tion of the writer was lost in that law of association 
 which the poet puts into classic verse : 
 
 "Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. 
 Awake but one, and lo ! what myraids rise ! 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies."* 
 
 In the meantime the author saw that his reminis- 
 cences had run, in length at least, into a book; and as 
 custom ordains that every book should have a preface, 
 he followed the precedent. In the preface, as is usual, 
 he furnishes his readers with the reasons which induced 
 him to appear before them, and, unbidden, to parade 
 his wares. 
 
 * Rogers, "Pleasures of Memory," Part II. 
 
xiv Preface 
 
 Primaril}', he wishes to say that he wrote these 
 "Reminiscences," in good part, to please himself — 
 CacoctJies scribendi if the reader chooses so to char- 
 acterize it. 
 
 Secondarily, he desires to publish the book for the 
 information of his children and grandchildren, and in 
 their interest to record some account of his early life, 
 as well as some of the revolutionary scenes and times 
 in which his long and eventful life was cast; and to 
 some extent to give a rehearsal of the part which he 
 played in the exciting drama. 
 
 He confesses that since the commencement of his 
 task the wish has grown that he could catch the ear of 
 the great public of the present generation, that he 
 might impress their minds with some lasting memory 
 of the heroism of their fathers, and of the heroism of 
 their mothers, during four years of a cruel and relent- 
 less war, waged to their very doors, and of the patience 
 and fortitude with which the former, when disarmed, 
 bore for eight years the contumely, humiliation, and 
 oppression of the carpetbagger and the scalawag. 
 
 And now, once and for all, he disclaims any personal 
 bitterness or any rankling in his heart of a revenge 
 which he is content to leave to Him who says "ven- 
 geance is mine." 
 
 For the Northern soldier who struck for the right as 
 he saw it, and who leveled his blows at men, not at wo- 
 men and children, and who, when victor, extended his 
 hand in help to his fallen foe and generously divided his 
 own thin rations with him, the author has no feeling 
 but that of honor and admiration of his manhood. But 
 for the soldier who boasted that he had "cut a swath 
 through two States a mile in breadth, marked by the 
 chimneys of burned mansions and desolated homes;" 
 for the soldier who proclaimed that a "crow flying over 
 the fairest portion of the Valley of Virginia would have 
 
Preface xv 
 
 to carry his rations with him to avoid starvation ;" for 
 the soldier who ordered that "any grain left as food 
 [for the helpless inhabitants] should be scattered in the 
 fields and trampled in the dust;" for the soldier who 
 made chloroform and opium contraband of war, and 
 directed all medicine to be swept away or confiscated 
 when found in a Southern home ; for the soldier who 
 ordered the capture and imprisonment of the unarmed 
 surgeon, refusing to leave his post and giving humane 
 help to friend and foe alike ; for the soldier who could 
 drive out from their homes the women and children of 
 a whole city, and send them into the wilderness without 
 food or shelter in the midst of the rigors of winter, and 
 turn a deaf ear to their cries — for all these the author 
 feels a contempt which words cannot measure, and an 
 undying wish to pillory to posterity some names that 
 to-day desecrate the Temple of Fame. 
 
 And as to the present government of the United 
 States, he recogni:?es and accepts the change in the 
 construction of the Constitution — a construction born 
 of arms and not of law, but he took his oath of alle- 
 giance to the same, and he has kept the faith ; and, 
 more, he has given hostages of his fealty: he sent a 
 son, a volunteer and an officer of the line, to the Span- 
 ish-American War, and has a grandson who, in the 
 Philippines and elsewhere, has been upholding for sev- 
 eral years, as an officer in the Regular Army, the flag 
 of the tradition of the "Land of the free, and the home 
 of the brave" — and as long as it represents the tradi- 
 tion, so long may it wave. 
 
 As to the style of the text and its literary character, 
 whilst he feels that no author has a right to foist upon 
 the public crude and incorrect writing, he owes it to 
 himself to say that these pages were written mostly 
 after the fatigue of days of labor, and at night when 
 others were asleep ; and when, perhaps, some of his 
 
xvi Preface 
 
 readers may think that he ought to have been also. 
 "What I have writ I have writ" — would it were 
 worthier. 
 
 And as to the criticism which may follow his work. 
 — He has reached an age where applause does not 
 greatly exalt, nor abuse depress. He is content to have 
 written the truth as he saw it and found it, and recog- 
 nizes his responsibility; and, following the words of a 
 better man,* in writing of a different matter, he adopts 
 the somewhat defiant family motto which was copied 
 from the entrance hall of Marischal College, Aberdeen : 
 ''Thay haif said: Quhat say thay: Lat thame say." 
 
 * Geo. S. Keith, in Preface to a "Plea for a Simpler Life." 
 
Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Personal and For My Personal Friends. 
 
 My Birth — The Character of the People Amongst Whom I was 
 Born — At School at Leasburg, North Carolina — My Mother — 
 At Ebenezer Academy — I Attend Randolph-Macon College — 
 Emory & Henry College — Again at Randolph-Macon — I Matri- 
 culate at University of Virginia — To Philadelphia Where I Take 
 Diplomas from Jefferson Medical College, the Pennsylvania 
 Hospital, and the Philadelphia Obstetrical Institute — On Staff 
 of Jefferson Medical College — I Return to Virginia and Look 
 For a Location — Decide on Petersburg — Some First Experi- 
 ences. 
 
 I was born in Brunswick County, Virginia, on the 
 loth of March, 1828. So says the record in the old 
 Family Bible; and it must be correct, as the birth of 
 the first boy in the house was an event of note at that 
 day, and it is not probable that there would be a mis- 
 take. It is true that the law of primogeniture and 
 entail had been abolished for perhaps a third of a cen- 
 tury, as incompatible with the genius and unfavorable 
 to the simplicity of republican institutions ; but enough 
 of English custom and English thought still leavened 
 social life in the Old Dominion to cause the first son to 
 be considered the master of the house and the repre- 
 sentative of the family. Whilst it is not probable, 
 therefore, that a mistake was made in the registry, yet 
 it is due to truth to say that it does not accord with 
 traditional history. I was told, as far back as I can re- 
 member, that I was born on the day and at the hour 
 of a very severe earthquake which traversed this por- 
 tion of the State in the early twenties— an earthquake 
 
i8 Sci'enty-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 so severe that in some places there were no inconsider- 
 able chasms made in the earth. But this occurred in 
 1829, instead of 1828; and there is no record, tradi- 
 tional or otherwise, of an earthquake at all in 1828. 
 1 accept, however, the record. Yet if the seismic con- 
 vulsions occurring about that time augured anything 
 of the troubled and tempestuous life which was await- 
 ing me, I should rather incline to tradition. 
 
 The section of the country in which I was born was 
 known as "The Red Oak Neighborhood." This was 
 about fifteen miles north of Lawrenceville, the county 
 seat, and was distinguished as a locality for the wealth, 
 culture, refinement, and hospitality of the families who 
 occupied it. Theywere literally the F. F. V's — a term 
 which had not been used up to that time as a covert 
 sneer, and, as it has been so often used since, to decry 
 a race of men whom their critics would have us, of this 
 day, believe were a pretentious and bloated aristocracy, 
 resting their claims to eminence upon ancestral merit. 
 They were large slave-holders, owning large planta- 
 tions, which had been their heritage for years, and 
 which gave with guaranteed wealth a leisure that fur- 
 nished opportunity for culture, a culture that insured 
 refinement and made the gentleman. The owning of 
 slaves established and cultivated the habit of command, 
 and fitted the master to lead — as the Southern man did 
 ever lead — in society, in politics, and in war. 
 
 The F. F. V's, descendants of the cavalier* elements 
 which settled that State and wrested it from the savage 
 by their prowess, introduced a leaven in the body 
 politic, which not only bred a high order of civilization 
 at home, but spread throughout the Southern and 
 Western States, as the Virginian, moved by love of 
 adventure or desire of preferment, migrated into the 
 
 *See Appendix. 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 19 
 
 new and adjoining territories. And from this sneered- 
 at stock was bred the six milHons of Southrons who 
 for four long years maintained unequal war with thirty 
 milHons of Northern hybrids, backed by a hireling sol- 
 diery brought from the whole world to put down con- 
 stitutional liberty — a war waged to free four million of 
 servile blacks and to enslave six million of proud and 
 cultivated whites ; a war waged to place the foot of the 
 menial upon the neck of the master; an unequal war, 
 in which the same Southron stock struck undaunted for 
 honor and the right, until its cohorts of starved and 
 ragged heroes perished in their own annihilation. 
 And this same stock, after the disaster of a defeat worse 
 than death, and a decade of years of humiliation and 
 torture, sprang up again. Phoenix-like, from the ashes 
 of its desolation ; and thirty years after, the same de- 
 spised and damned stock sits again in the Halls of the 
 Congress of a nation that had affixed on it the stigma 
 of Felon, and its brigadiers are called to command 
 armies which were sent to suppress it as a traitorous 
 faction. 
 
 This is a digression. But I make no apology for it. 
 I am proud to record that I was born and reared 
 amongst such a people ; and I regard this as the high- 
 est heritage that I can hand down to my children and 
 my children's children. 
 
 From my grandfather, Captain John Herbert Clai- 
 borne, who, as a member of the "Surry Troop," a com- 
 pany of young gentlemen who armed and equipped 
 themselves, and fought without pay in the famed legion 
 of "Light Horse Harry" Lee, I learned the story of 
 war and drank in the lesson that "resistance to tyrants 
 is obedience to God." Little did he surmise that his 
 grandsons, under Robert E. Lee, the son of his old 
 commander, would ever be called to draw their swords 
 in defense of home, and of the holy soil of Virginia — 
 
20 Seventy 'five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 assailed not by alien hands, but by the hired hordes of 
 a government which had been founded on principles 
 enunciated by Virginia statesmen and established by 
 the prowess of Virginia soldiers. 
 
 But to return. Until nine years of age I lived on my 
 father's plantation the life of a Virginia boy, — roving, 
 hunting, fishing, riding, driving cattle, — always follow- 
 ed by two or three negro boys of about the same age, 
 my satellites and companions, partners in any mischief, 
 and with whom I cheerfully divided any good fortune 
 which came to me in the way of cakes, fruit, or other 
 edibles. Thus was established that good feeling and 
 mutual trust which characterized the relationship of 
 master and slave. The negro of that day was proud 
 of his master, devoted to his interests, and would lay 
 down his life for him or his family. 
 
 The doors of the mansion house were rarely locked 
 at night, and its inmates were as safe from alarm or 
 intrusion as if surrounded by a cordon of police. What 
 a travesty the present condition of things presents, 
 since freedom has come with its blessings of Northern 
 civilization and education ! 
 
 When I became nine years of age my father conclud- 
 ed that it was best for me to break up this free and 
 semi-nomadic life, and to send me from home to 
 school. I had picked up the rudiments of education in 
 a female school which had been established at home 
 for the education of my two sisters, and which was 
 taught by two Northern ladies, one a Miss Parsons, of 
 Massachusetts, and the other a Miss Draper, of New 
 York. Miss Draper was a sister of Dr. Draper, who 
 subsequently became the famous professor and savant 
 of the University of New York, but who, at that time, 
 was Professor of Chemistry at Hampden-Sidney Col- 
 lege in this State. 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 21 
 
 At that date it was almost the invariable custom to 
 employ female teachers from the North, as Southern 
 ladies were debarred by social status from engaging in 
 such work. My sister's education having been com- 
 pleted just at this era in my life, the school at home 
 was adjourned sine die — another reason which made it 
 imperative that I should seek other tutelage. 
 
 There were several male schools or academies in my 
 native county, — schools long established and of good 
 repute, — one of them, the Ebenezer Academy, found- 
 ed by Bishop Asbury (and to which, as will be seen, I 
 finally drifted) ; but my father, for some reason, doubt- 
 less satisfactory, but which I never understood, select- 
 ed a large boarding-school in Western North Carolina, 
 in Leasburg, Caswell County, and taught by an ex- 
 cellent scholar and gentleman, the Rev. Lorenzo Lea. 
 And to this school, on the ist of January, 1838, two 
 months before I entered on my loth year, I was taken 
 by my father and committed to the Rev. Mr. Lea, with 
 many charges to him as to the care and management 
 of his hopeful son, and much good and varied advice 
 to me as to my conduct and behavior. 
 
 I had never left home before, or slept out of my 
 mother's chamber; was known as a "mother's boy," 
 and was petted and spoiled by her and my sisters, and 
 colored mammy, and, barring my father, who alone 
 held sway over me, considered myself Lord Proprietor 
 of the house and its happenings. Only he who has 
 jumped from such surroundings into the dormitory of 
 a big boarding-school for boys can imagine the cold 
 and icy plunge which engulfed my babyhood ! 
 
 Well, after one session's buffeting I came out of that 
 bath no longer a baby, but a boy, almost a man ; if not 
 in strength, yet in the wisdom of this world's ways, and 
 — shall I add? — in wickedness. One lesson I learned, 
 however, and for which I shall be ever grateful: It 
 
'^2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 taught me, in the future that awaited my manhood — 
 a most exciting and eventful future — to fall on my feet. 
 And whether in peace, in politics, in war, or in prison, 
 1 always managed to stand on my feet and to keep my 
 head above water. 
 
 I was utterly ignorant of what awaited me "at 
 school," and left home with a lighter heart than I would 
 have carried had I been aware of all that was before 
 me. Besides, I was to ride a race-horse all the way to 
 school, and that was the climax of my boyish ambition. 
 My father, as was the habit of many gentlemen of Vir- 
 ginia of that day, bred racing stock, and he promised 
 me, as an inducement to go, that I might ride a beauti- 
 ful Lusborough filly, — of an imported sire, — an animal 
 of great spirit, but kindly and gentle, and a splendid 
 riding-horse. I was a young rider, but accustomed to 
 horses, and to horseback exercise^ from early recol- 
 lection, and my father knew of my staying qualities and 
 had no fear of my mount. He accompanied me in his 
 gig — a two-wheeled concern, a homely analogue of the 
 cart of to-day — upon which was strapped my little 
 trunk, in which my rribther, with many tears and mis- 
 givings, had packed my clothes and belongings. The 
 butler (known then as dining-room servant) followed 
 on another horse — both to add dignity to the cavalcade 
 and to render any attention or service that we might 
 require. 
 
 It was more than an hundred miles from my father's 
 to Leasburg, the place of our destination, and it was in 
 January, with the winter roads of mud and water; but 
 we made our journey in three days, not uncomfortably, 
 and to me without fatigue. Indeed the trip to me was 
 enjoyable, and the memory of that ride lingers amongst 
 my pleasant things of the past. But not until I had 
 been conducted from the village tavern, in Leasburg, 
 to the boarding department of the academy, and saw 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 23 
 
 my father file away on the road which looked toward 
 home, followed by the butler leading my filly riderless, 
 did the utter desolation of my condition strike me. I 
 was no longer a man, but a child again, as I was only a 
 child in form and in years, and I gave vent for the first 
 time to a child's feelings and to a child's tears. But 
 this only continued a Httle while, and it was the last 
 paroxysm of grief to which I gave exhibition. As 
 young as I was, I soon discovered that one's sorrow 
 was his own, and that there was no place and no pity 
 for such demonstration amongst the bright or busy 
 or bad boys about me. I knew that with such show of 
 myself I should be called "baby," and I would "have 
 died and made no sign" before I would have asked or 
 accepted consolation or borne that soubriquet for an 
 hour. 
 
 One object which my father had in taking me so far 
 from home was to take me from my "mother's apron 
 strings," as he called it, and to wean me from my de- 
 pendence on, and my adoration of, her. In that object 
 he failed. My love for her was intensified, if such a 
 thing were possible ; she was never out of my thoughts 
 by day or my dreams by night. I never laid down upon 
 my bed, or even stood at rest upon the play-grounds, 
 but that I religiously turned my face in the direction 
 of that Mecca, that home which her life and her pres- 
 ence consecrated. And I looked forward to meeting 
 her, when the session of the school ended and I should 
 be permitted to go back, as the one idea of happiness 
 which nothing could crown and nothing could displace. 
 I wish to record right here that always thereafter, 
 though life brought me success, and a loving and be- 
 loved wife, and a devoted family, and applause and 
 honor from men, yet nothing ever relit in my heart the 
 fire which went out one tempestuous night in January 
 just twenty years from that date, when, laying in my 
 
24 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 arms, she breathed her last; and again I wish to re- 
 cord here, that whatever has come to me since of 
 pleasure, of interest, of profit, of advancement, there 
 has always been something lacking which life could not 
 fill. Even the physical world has been changed beyond 
 reparation, and places that I knew and connected with 
 her life have fallen out of my existence, and perished 
 as islands sunken in some unknown sea. Of all the 
 precious memories which hallow my past, her last 
 words linger as fresh to-day as when they fell from her 
 dying lips : "My son, when I close my eyes to-night I 
 do not care to awaken again, and before I sleep I wish 
 to say to you, that as boy or man you have never 
 grieved or distressed me." When the morning came 
 the tempest was over, and the sun revealed all that was 
 left of the most beautiful, the most affectionate, and 
 the most unselfish woman I ever knew ; but it brought 
 none of the old joyous light to me* From that hour I 
 have kept and cherished in my heart the hope that 
 sometime, somewhere in the Great Beyond, I shall yet 
 meet her again, and once more hold her again to my 
 breast. 
 
 But whilst this love of mother and of home was per- 
 haps morbid, as some might think, I soon made friends 
 of my schoolmates and enjoyed their association. The 
 boys were like boys are everywhere — disposed to lord 
 it over the smaller ones and the new scholars, but they 
 never were guilty of the foolish and cowardly system 
 of hazing such as prevails at the Virginia Military In- 
 stitute and at West Point, and some other State-fed 
 and self-asserting establishments. I never suffered an 
 indignity to be put upon me without repelling it to the 
 best of my ability, and though I always came off worst- 
 ed, as the smallest and weakest boy in school, yet I 
 
 *See Appendix. 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 25 
 
 always came off likewise with the decided respect of my 
 adversary, and after a little while had no further per- 
 sonal affrays. Indeed, in a very short time my friends 
 grew in numbers and in grace, and as it was always my 
 pleasure to meet them with courtesy and kindness, I 
 was soon dubbed with the soubriquet of "Gentleman 
 John Claiborne." I had forgotten this complimentary 
 appellation until, some two years ago, I saw an article 
 in a Raleigh paper, reminiscences of one of the "Old 
 Boys" of the Leasburg Academy, in which he referred 
 to me by that name. 
 
 When my first session of six months was ended, my 
 father sent a servant and horse for me, and I turned 
 my face homeward — no longer a child, though only 
 ten years and a few months old — with a heart so happy 
 at the prospect of again meeting my mother, that my 
 joy was almost delirious. The first night after leaving 
 Leasburg I stopped at Roxborough, North Carolina, 
 and riding up to the hotel (tavern), called for rooms 
 for self and servant. The old gentleman who kept the 
 hostelry was sitting on the long piazza, which seemed 
 an organic part of every tavern of that day. He did 
 not seem at all overcome by my presence, or abashed 
 by my precocious audacity, but received me more than 
 civilly, and, asking me to be seated near him, entered 
 into conversation with me. I can not recall after sixty 
 years the general subjects which engaged our atten- 
 tion, but one remark of his is fresh in my mind, as 
 upon that soft summer afternoon in June, on my asking 
 for some water, he startled me by saying that he had 
 "never tasted a drop of water in twenty years"; that 
 "water gave him the headache," and he was "compelled 
 to drink whiskey in the place of it." His face attested 
 the accuracy of his statement, and I was not surprised 
 to hear some few years afterwards that even whiskey 
 
26 Scz'cnty-ik'C Vcars in Old Virginia 
 
 could not relieve his headache, and that the village 
 tavern had fallen into other hands and my village boni- 
 face had fallen into the grave. 
 
 But another incident indelibly fixes that visit to Rox- 
 borough in my mind. Going out on the street (there 
 was but one street in Roxborough at that time) I no- 
 ticed on the counter of one of the stores a collection 
 of hats, one of them quite tall and stylish-looking to 
 me, and it at once occurred to me that that hat would 
 not only add manly grace to my general get-up, but 
 that it would be a revelation to the folks at home w^hen 
 they saw me approaching with so grand a head-piece. 
 But to give completeness to the picture I should ex- 
 plain. It was the fashion of the boys at the Leasburg 
 Academy to wear their hair cut short behind — shingled, 
 it would be called now — and long in front, coming- 
 down, when parted, below the ears, sometimes as far 
 as the collar. These w'ere called "soap locks," the name 
 being derived from the saponaceous material wdiich 
 was not infrequently applied to paste them in position. 
 Some of the fellow^s had full ambrosial locks worthy of 
 Jove, and were the envy of the school. Not so, all of 
 them — mine were thin and yellow, and obedient only 
 to generous pasting. It was above these locks that I 
 had set the crowning grace of my tall chapeau. So at- 
 tired, I rode up on the evening of that day, after a day's 
 journey, to a hotel in Boydton, Virginia, on my way 
 home. But my mother was at the hotel awaiting me, 
 having come partly with that object, and partly that 
 my two sisters, just turned out, might attend the com- 
 mencement exercises of Randolph-Macon College, 
 which was then established near Boydton. 
 
 I will pass over the first glad greeting with which she 
 received me and held me to her heart. This was in 
 the public-room of the hotel. Almost immediately she 
 ushered me into her private apartments, and, holding 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 27 
 
 me off at arm's length, with a countenance in which a 
 sense of horror and a sense of the ludicrous seemed 
 striving for the mastery, she exclaimed : "My son, my 
 son, where did you get that hat? And that hair?" 
 Without a moment's delay, and with as much gentle- 
 ness, perhaps, as the occasion called for, she removed 
 the hat from my head. Calling for a pair of scissors, 
 the hair soon followed the hat — my precious, long- 
 trained locks. What became of hat or hair I never 
 knew, for I never saw either afterwards. 
 
 After adjusting other parts of my attire more in ac- 
 cordance with what she deemed suitable for a boy of 
 ten years of age than for a man of twenty-five, — in 
 which it seems I had glorified myself with a view of im- 
 pressing the natives at home with my rapid strides to 
 manhood, — she presented me to her friends, in evident 
 pride of her boy. But for myself, I must confess that I 
 felt shorn of my gains; and as I contemplated my im- 
 age in the mirror I recalled the picture of a young 
 rooster that I had seen plucked of his feathers and 
 slinking away to the barnyard. 
 
 After my vacation was ended (the vacation at that 
 time covered four weeks), I returned to Leasburg, 
 where I spent two more sessions of five months each 
 without incident worth recording. At the expiration 
 of that time, my health, which was never strong, be- 
 came very feeble, and my father entered me as a schol- 
 ar at the Ebenezer Academy, an institution to which 
 I have before referred. This was five miles distant 
 from home, and I rode horseback every morning, car- 
 rying my dinner in a little basket and my horse's din- 
 ner in a wallet or bag which was tied behind my saddle, 
 returning every afternoon after school was "let out," 
 as it was expressed at that day. As I was very fond of 
 horseback riding, this arrangement was not only very 
 
28 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 agreeable to me, but was conducive to my health, which 
 soon became quite robust. 
 
 For the first two sessions of the school after I enter- 
 ed it, Mr. Hogan was the teacher; an old Irishman, 
 of fine classical education, and a good teacher and dis- 
 ciplinarian. He was a true believer of the old school in 
 corporal punishment, not only for disobedience and 
 mischief, but when he failed to impress a lesson on a 
 boy's mind as he thought he should, he applied the 
 birch without fail — to that other portion of the body 
 which has not been considered the seat of intellect. 
 
 After two sessions of my stay at the Ebenezer, Mr. 
 Hogan left, and the school was taken charge of by a 
 gentleman named Thompkins Rice. Mr. Rice was a 
 Virginian and a native of Brunswick County, but he 
 had been abroad for many years, and was educated at 
 Oxford, England. He was also a fine scholar, and, with 
 the exception of Prof. R. E. Rogers, and Prof. J. S. 
 Davis, to whom, after some years, I recited at the Uni- 
 versity of Virginia, the best teacher that I ever met. 
 He was, moreover, a very genial man, and was greatly 
 beloved by the boys; but he never abated a jot of his 
 dignity. Pie also was a strict disciplinarian, and in- 
 sisted upon perfect obedience to all rules of conduct 
 and of study, and announced in the beginning that he 
 would not tolerate a dunce or a dullard. If he ap- 
 pointed a task — and I must confess he was not a hard 
 master in the number or length of the lessons — he saw 
 that the task was completed perfectly; and if it was 
 not, the boy who failed knew what to expect and his 
 anticipations were certainly realized. Mr. Rice never 
 lost his temper or his equilibrium, but with great grace 
 and good humor he could plant a birch, without ever 
 missing the mark, upon that portion of a boy's anatomy 
 which the short jackets of that day seemed to expose 
 for the especial purpose. 
 
Personal and for my Personal Priends 29 
 
 After two years, Mr. Rice succumbed to the charms 
 ©f a handsome widow, whose ample means permitted 
 him to retire from the chair of the pedagogue, and the 
 Academy was again left without a teacher. 
 
 Our next master was a Mr. Lanier, a mild-mannered 
 gentleman, no great scholar, but a good teacher — a 
 man who made himself a companion to the boys in their 
 sports, who won their love and ruled by love. Under 
 his domination the rod ceased to appear. 
 
 At the expiration of two sessions 1 think another 
 change was made in the teachers, but at that time, 
 January, 1843, ^ ^^^^ sent to Randolph-Macon College 
 to enter the freshman class, half advanced. 
 
 I should add to this part of my narration that about 
 the year 1840 or 1841 a young relative of mine, John 
 R. Claiborne, having lost his father and mother, he, 
 with his sister, S. Josephine Claiborne, several years 
 younger than himself, was adopted into my father's 
 family, and John Claiborne attended the Ebenezer 
 Academy with me and went with me from there to 
 college. They were the children of Dr. Jas. B. Clai- 
 borne, of Brunswick County, who was not very closely 
 related to my father; but Dr. Claiborne married my 
 mother's sister, Jane Weldon, of Roanoke, and these 
 children were my mother's nephew and niece. They 
 were to me as brother and sister. John, when he grew 
 up to manhood, went to Central America, and died 
 there in two years after he left home^ at San Juan 
 del Sur, on the Pacific Coast, in the service of 
 the Nicarauguan Transit Company. Josie lived to 
 take care of, and to rear, my children after the 
 death of their own mother, and, after they were grown, 
 to comfort my father in his second widowhood, and 
 until he died, in extreme old age, at my home in Pe- 
 tersburg. She survived him many years, and died 
 under my roof, which had been her home virtually for 
 
30 Sci'oity-ijvc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 twenty years, endeared to me as a sister, faithful and 
 affectionate, and to my children as a mother, loving and 
 dutiful — the only mother whom they ever remembered. 
 Our life at the Ebenezer Academy was rather quiet 
 and humdrum. One enlivening incident is impressed 
 upon my mind quite indelibly. There were some six or 
 eight boys who rode on horseback to school, retaining 
 their horses at the Academy and riding home after 
 school was "let out" in the afternoon. This number 
 made a very respectable company of cavalry, which we 
 organized and trained as such. But in an evil hour, 
 and led by that spirit of mischief which is born in every 
 boy, we charged the infantry of the school one day as 
 they formed for drill or play, and routed them with such 
 serious consequences, riding over several of them, that 
 a meeting of the Board of Trustees was called and we 
 were disciplined. My father was president of the Board 
 of Trustees, but though a stern man himself, he had a 
 keen eye for the picturesquely ludicrous, had been a 
 lover of fun in his young days, and seeing more to 
 amuse than to condemn in the heartrending details of 
 the encounter, we escaped any serious infliction. Our 
 cavalry company was disbanded, however, and we rode 
 no more in company of fours, nor fell any more upon 
 the flanks of the infantry. But how many of our little 
 l)and, twenty years afterwards, rode with Fitz Lee, and 
 with Stuart, and with Rosser, — rode upon the serried 
 squares of alien marauders on their homes and their 
 country, — I know not. As the war waged I would meet 
 one of them sometimes, with the same firm seat in the 
 saddle, the same spirit of dash and deviltry — but how 
 many were left to tell to their children the story of 
 battle and of bivouac is not recorded. I only know 
 that I can not recall a single living one to-day. As far 
 as I can learn, every one has responded to the last Long 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 31 
 
 Roll, and every one has answered adsuin — here — to the 
 black sergeant — Death. 
 
 At the termination of the session of Randolph-Ma- 
 con College, in June, 1845, "^y health had again be- 
 come so impaired that my father concluded that it was 
 best for me not to return to college. But as my health 
 improved somewliat after a month's vacation, he sent 
 me to Emory & Henry College, in Washington 
 County — not only on account of the salubrity of the 
 climate, but as that institution had been conducted as 
 a labor school, he wished me to combine manual labor 
 with the course of the institution. At the time of my 
 matriculation the manual labor feature of the school 
 had been abandoned, and I only remained there about 
 three months, and returned home. I made some warm 
 friends, however, amongst them two young gentlemen 
 from Alabama, named Clayton, one of whom became a 
 general in the Confederate Army, but with whom I 
 was never fortunate enough to meet. They were my 
 room-mates. 
 
 It may be of interest to note that it took me, at that 
 time, three days and nights of continuous staging to 
 make the trip. It was not a dream of that day that an 
 iron horse would climb the Blue Ridge and Allegheny 
 Mountains and speed his way at the rate of forty miles 
 an hour. 
 
 At the commencement of the session of 1846 at Ran- 
 dolph-Macon College my health was so much improved 
 that I again matriculated, and after two years was grad- 
 uated with the degree of A. B. at the head of my class. 
 The faculty, being unable to determine upon whom the 
 hrst honor should be conferred, — Mr. J. C. Granbery 
 and myself having stood with equal grade for two 
 years, — settled the matter by lot. He drew the longest 
 straw, and, I may remark, has kept it ever since. For 
 some years he has been a distinguished divine and a 
 
32 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. As 
 far as I can learn, he and I are tlie only surviving mem- 
 bers of the graduating class of 1848. 
 
 After graduation came the momentous question of 
 a choice of profession — a question that gave me great 
 trouble. My tastes, my inclination, and my ambition 
 led me to prefer the law. But my father, who had been 
 educated at William & Mary College for the bar, and 
 had practised law up to middle life, and laid it aside 
 after having achieved success, for reasons which 
 seemed pertinent and powerful to him, bitterly opposed 
 my following the same profession, urgently advising 
 me to study medicine. 
 
 In obedience to his wishes, therefore, I matriculated 
 at the University of Virginia in October, 1848, and took 
 the medical ticket. I had by no means made up my 
 mind to practise medicine, but 1 was young enough to 
 give a year to the study of the profession, and I knew 
 that by earnest application 1 could take the degree of 
 M. D. in that time, which would not only be quite an 
 addendum to a polite education but would greatly grat- 
 ify my parents. I succeeded in my efifort, and in July, 
 1849, was graduated with the degree of M. D. At that 
 day a student was not asked how long he had studied 
 medicine, or if he had studied it at all, but at the expira- 
 tion of the session an examination was placed upon 
 the boards, and the candidate for graduation was re- 
 quired to write his replies to the questions. If he 
 could answer correctly a certain per centum he was 
 given his degree. And, forsooth, he was entitled to it. 
 His knowledge of anatomy, of physiology, of materia 
 mcdica, of chemistry, of medical jurisprudence, and of 
 the theory of practise was tested and drained to the 
 last drop; and the little piece of parchment — diploma 
 — which was presented him, if successful, was a ready 
 witness to his proficiency anywhere thereafter that he 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 33 
 
 chose to take it. Of course there were few graduates 
 — many throwing up the game in discouragement, as 
 not worth the candle. Eleven, I think, were graduated 
 in the class of seventy-two students of which I was a 
 member. 
 
 From the University of Virginia I went to Philadel- 
 phia, spending the remainder of the year 1849, ^^^ ^ 
 good part of i850-'5i, in seeking practical knowledge 
 of the profession. I took a diploma from the Jefferson 
 Medical College, from the Pennsylvania Hospital, and 
 from the Philadelphia Obstetrical Institute, but I had 
 no more trouble with examinations. 
 
 After graduating at the Jefferson Medical College, 
 Dr. Thomas D. Mutter, Professor of Surgery in that 
 institution, one of the most skilful surgeons and most 
 accomplished gentlemen I ever knew, offered me a 
 place on the staff of the surgical clinic of the college, 
 one of my confreres being Dr. J. M. DaCosta, a young 
 Spaniard or Cuban, who subsequently settled in Phila- 
 delphia, and rose to the head of the profession. I had 
 just taken my place when my father summoned me 
 home. He had met with unexpected reverses, and as 
 1 had one profession there was no time to consider the 
 question of acquiring another, but pressing occasion to 
 put into practise one which had cost me no little money 
 and the elements of which I had pretty well mastered. 
 So it is "that there is a divinity which shapes our ends, 
 rough hew them as we may." 
 
 The next earnest and important question was, where 
 to locate. That was a matter involving not only life's 
 labor, but life's success or life's failure, possibly. Cer- 
 tain gentlemen in the town of Farmville and its vicinity, 
 moved by what consideration I never knew, proposed 
 to guarantee me the sum of twelve hundred dollars a 
 year if I would settle in that section. One of these 
 was Mr. Joseph E. Venable, who afterwards moved to 
 3 
 
34 ScT'enty-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Petersburg', and who was one of our most upright and 
 honored citizens, and. to his death, one of my best pa- 
 trons and most faithful friends. I visited Farmville and 
 called on and thanked my stranger friends — for they 
 were all strangers to me ; but I had pretty well de- 
 termined to settle in some city, and the choice lay be- 
 tween Petersburg and Norfolk, as I had more friends 
 and acquaintances in those cities than in any others of 
 the Commonwealth. I visited Norfolk, which about 
 that time was a sleepy burgh of some 12.000 to 15,000 
 people, lacking in enterprise, but abounding in social 
 pleasures and distinguished for its hospitality and high 
 living. I had letters to a Doctor Andrews, whom I 
 found was not only considered the Nestor of the pro- 
 fession in that city, but almost the profession itself. I 
 had never heard one man referred to so universally as 
 head and shoulders above all others in the same line, 
 and I suspect he deserved the distinction. 
 
 Unfortunately I met with quite a severe accident a 
 few days after getting to Norfolk, and was compelled 
 to trespass upon his time and consult his skill. He im- 
 pressed me as a man thoroughly conversant with both 
 medicine and surgery (T had recourse to him as a sur- 
 geon), but I was especially struck with the simplicity 
 of his manner and of his treatment. In that perhaps 
 consisted his true worth as a doctor, and to that he 
 owed his undisputed and distinguished success. 
 
 I had two very good friends — old college chums — 
 in Norfolk, Prof. O. H. P. Corprew and Mr. E. T. 
 Hardy. Both received me kindly and hospitably, but 
 T concluded that I would not like Norfolk as a place of 
 residence. A fortunate conclusion. Four years after- 
 wards Norfolk was swept with a fearful epidemic of 
 yellow fever, more than half the local physicians dying, 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 35 
 
 paying the penalty of their faithfulness with their lives. 
 One of my classmates at the University and in Phila- 
 delphia, Dr. Junius Briggs, fell an early victim. 
 
 After leaving Norfolk I concluded to locate in Pe- 
 tersburg, and on the ist day of January, 1851, I left 
 my father's house in Brunswick County, and, making 
 the trip of forty-five miles in one day, drove up to 
 Powell's Hotel in the evening and registered my name 
 and "at home." I came with two horses, driving one 
 given me by my father, to a fine sulky, which had been 
 made for me a few months before, costing $100, by Mr. 
 Jno. H. Atkinson, whose carriage factory was located on 
 Sycamore Street, just where Lewis & Bro. now have 
 their stand. The other horse was ridden by my body- 
 servant, Preston, a fine young negro man, given me by 
 my grandfather. I placed my horses in Ragland's Liv- 
 ery Stable, which occupied the locality where the China 
 Palace and adjoining store now stand, and next to 
 Powell's Hotel, which stood on the site the Iron Front 
 building recently occupied. I engaged board for my- 
 self and servant at the above-named hostelry, then kept 
 by Mr. Wm. N. Friend, the father of our esteemed citi- 
 zen, Mr. Alfred Friend, Sr. — kept with prodigal munifi- 
 cence of store and larder which characterized the old 
 tavern, where I made my pleasant home until two years 
 afterwards, when I married and made my own home. 
 
 A few days afterwards I rented an of^ce over the 
 store of Todd & Christian, druggists, then occupying 
 the store at the corner of Sycamore and Lombard 
 streets, now occupied by Mr. John Trusheim as a con- 
 fectionery and lodging-house. In doing so I bought 
 out Dr. R. M. Anderson, who wished me better luck 
 than he had had, saying that he had not been able to 
 make a living there. This, I confess, was discouraging, 
 as the doctor was a ma^ not only of some experience in 
 the profession, but a man of more than ordinary merit 
 
36 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 and acquirement. He moved to Dinwiddie County 
 soon afterwards, where he was more successful, accum- 
 ulating quite a competency to cheer and support the 
 ripe old age to which he attained. 
 
 After three or four months of patient occupancy of 
 my quarters, my clientele did not crowd my reception- 
 room, as I had vainly imagined would be the case ; and 
 I began to fear that Dr. Anderson's fate awaited me. 
 
 I found it convenient, in order to eke out my failing 
 finances, to sell one horse, as two horses were only a 
 luxury, not a necessity demanded by my overcrowded 
 work. Then, after another short interval I concluded 
 that the constant attention of my servant in the ante- 
 room was scarcely entirely necessary for the reception 
 of the callers, whom I succeeded in apprising of my 
 presence or absence by an ingenious reversible card — 
 the invention, I suspect, of some impecunious person. 
 On one side of this card, posted upon the door, was 
 written "IN," on the other "OUT," with the hour of 
 return noted. This device was so happy that I dis- 
 pensed with the servant, hiring him out, thereby not 
 only feeding him, but utilizing the wages of his hire for 
 my own daily bread. 
 
 At the expiration of six months, reading one morn- 
 ing in the Scriptures that "a horse was a vain thing for 
 safety," I began, in a moment of abundant leisure, to 
 make a sort of an exegesis of the text, and, amongst 
 other ideas suggested by reflection, it occurred to me 
 that a horse was also a vain thing for a man to keep 
 whose provender was exhausted. I could not send my 
 horse to follow my servant, and make his own living, 
 for two reasons : Firstly, he had a glass eye. by which 
 he became generally well known, but which would 
 not have militated against his usefulness had he 
 not — secondly — manifested to all observers the most 
 conspicuous habit of insubordination, so that it became 
 
Personal and for my Personal Friends 37 
 
 the general remark that he was a horse that would 
 allow no man to ride or drive him except the doctor 
 who owned him. I sent him, therefore, to the country, 
 to my father's, to spend the summer, my father kindly 
 offering to take care of him until the exigencies of my 
 practise demanded his recall. I did not send for him 
 again until the following winter. Practise began to im- 
 prove, and in addition I formed a co-partnership with 
 Dr. R. L. Madison, an old college-mate of mine, who 
 had settled in Petersburg some months after I did, and 
 between us we felt that, jointly, we could bear the ex- 
 pense of a horse. But we only kept him a short time. 
 During his long idleness he had "waxed fat," and was 
 more incorrigible than ever in his deviltry, and I had 
 to sell him. I sold him to a gentleman who was en- 
 gaged, I think, in hauling railroad iron, but Glass Eye 
 had made up his mind that he would submit to no such 
 humiliating service as the drawing of a dray, and like 
 an illustrious character in Scripture (Deuteronomy 32 : 
 15) who had "waxed fat" before him, he "kicked," and 
 cutting a large artery in his leg, lost his Hfe. 
 
 However, we soon secured a more docile Rosinante, 
 business improved rapidly, and we felt that we were 
 on the up grade. But as Dr. Madison and I were only 
 together for a year or so, and now are about to part 
 company, I can not leave this part of my story without 
 testifying that a more honest, faithful, loyal friend, and 
 a more genial, generous, great-hearted, and accomplish- 
 ed gentleman I never met. He was a great-nephew 
 of President Madison, of the proudest and purest of 
 old Virginia stock, modest and sensitive as a woman, 
 but as brave as and a type of the Chevalier Bayard. He 
 was a physician of high attainment, but ambitious to 
 be and do more than was open before him in so limited 
 a field as Petersburg. Dr. Madison married, on the 
 3rd of May, 1853, a lady of great accompHshments, and 
 
38 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 as ambitious as himself — a Miss Leigh, of Orange 
 County, Virginia — and removed to Philadelphia, where 
 his talents and energy soon brought him into most 
 favorable notice. His wife lived only a year, I think, 
 after reaching Philadelphia, and two years afterwards 
 he married Miss Helen Bannister of this city, a most 
 estimable lady, a beauty, and a belle. Pie remained in 
 Philadelphia until the breaking out of the war between 
 the States — the War of the Rebellion, as it was termed 
 there, the especial home of hate and bitterness against 
 the South, and the home of one Rev. Brooks, who af- 
 terwards became a bishop of the Protestant Episcopal 
 Church, but who bore the savory reputation then, and 
 there, of being a persecutor of any unfortunate rebel — 
 man, woman, or child — who came under his power, and 
 with a cruelty and malignity only measured by his op- 
 portunity of giving them distress. It is to be hoped 
 that before he was called upon for the rendition of his 
 final account he stumbled upon a text which he might 
 have found in the great sermon of Paul, to the 
 Athenians, on Mars Hill when he was declaring to them 
 the Unknown God (Acts 17:30). 
 
 I enter no apology for this little digression.* 
 At the breaking out of the war Dr. Madison came 
 South, as did all its loyal sons — came home and struck 
 with them for fireside and altar. He was elected Sur- 
 geon and Professor at the Virginia Military Institute, 
 
 *To the Hon. Edwin G. Booth, of Philadelphia, formerly a citizen 
 of Virginia, Southern prisoners, wherever they could be reached by 
 him, were indebted for great kindness, and most liberal contribu- 
 tions of clothes, blankets, etc. And there may have been other 
 friends in the City of Brotherly Love as kind as he, but I never 
 heard of them. God knows who even gave a cup of cold water in 
 his name — and God reigns, even yet, and there. Any one wishing 
 to enquire further into this subject is referred to "United States 
 Bonds," a book published by Rev. I. W. K. Handy, D. D., of Au- 
 gusta County, Virginia, a journal of fifteen months' confinement as a 
 prisoner at Fort Delaware. 
 
JOHN HERBERT CLAIBORNE 
 
 Of the Surry Troop 
 Light Horse Harry Lee's Legion, 1776 
 
Persona! and for my Personal Friends 39 
 
 filling his place in war and in peace with distinguished 
 credit to himself. He died some ten years subsequent 
 to the restoration of the Union, in Thomasville, 
 Georgia, whither he had gone trying to evade the 
 Nemesis consumption, which had pursued to death his 
 first wife, and her two lovely daughters, just as they 
 budded into womanhood. A loving letter from him as 
 he was entering the dark scenes of the Great Unknown 
 told me of the fearlessness with which he was meeting 
 his last and only enemy, and of his perfect confidence 
 in a higher and better life. In a few days came the 
 announcement of his death. 
 
 "Green be the turf above thee, 
 
 Friend of my better days; 
 None knew thee but to love thee, 
 None named thee but to praise." 
 
 Dr. Madison was not a native of Petersburg, but of 
 Orange or Madison Comity, Virginia. Having lost 
 his father at an early age, he came to Petersburg with 
 his mother, who was a Miss Strachan, of this city, and 
 with her lived with Mr. Robert Strachan on a farm 
 near Butterworth's Bridge, at the head of Halifax 
 Street. But he was educated in Petersburg, and his 
 name should be listed upon the roll of the many sons 
 of the old Cockade City whose virtuous and distin- 
 guished lives have given her preeminence amongst the 
 cities of the Commonwealth. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Petersburg in the Fifties. 
 
 The City as I Found It — Some Early History — The Population and 
 a Comparison — The Society — The Fourth of July — Hospitality 
 and Liberality — The Business Interests — Growth of the City — 
 Its Hotels and Taverns — A Professional Adventure — Principal 
 Resources and Finances — Its Municipal Government — The 
 Churches and Their Pastors — The Colored Congregations — The 
 Press of Petersburg in 1850 and Later — The Schools and 
 Teachers — The Petersburg Bar and Some Reminiscences of Its 
 Honored Members — The Physicians of Petersburg — Recollec- 
 tions of Many Notable Members of the Profession Before and 
 During My Time — Petersburg's Rise After the War. 
 
 At the time when I settled in this city, on the ist 
 of January, 1851, it was a town of 103 years of age, 
 having- been incorporated by the House of Burgesses, 
 with the Town of Blandford, in 1748, and directed to 
 be laid off — the Town of Petersburg from the lands 
 of one Abraham Jones, and the Town of Blandford 
 from the lands of one William Poythress. These acts 
 of incorporation were probably passed at the instance 
 and by the influence of Col. William Byrd, of Westover, 
 who, in 1733, determined that two citites should be 
 founded in Virginia — one at the falls of James River, 
 to be called Richmond, and one at the falls of the Ap- 
 pomattox River, to be called Petersburg. 
 
 This town was named for Captain Peter Jones, ap- 
 pointed by the Council commander-in-chief of Fort 
 Henry. It was also called Peter's Point. At this point 
 was erected the first trading house on the river, just 
 opposite Bath Island, the former situation of the South- 
 side Railroad shops, and probably on the spot now oc- 
 cupied by Dunlop's factory. This was in the year 
 1675- 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 41 
 
 In 1720 Captain Peter Jones's name appears on the 
 Register of Bristol Parish, with that of one John Ban- 
 nister, both said to have been companions and com- 
 rades of that gallant and enterprising gentleman Col. 
 William Byrd, who about the year 1733 was employed 
 as one of the commissioners to run the dividing line 
 between Virginia and North Carolina. Bristol Parish 
 at that time extended from Charles City County to 
 Petersburg and Blandford, including those two cor- 
 porations, which corporations or towns must have had 
 some population, for from the same Registry we read 
 that in 1733 the old "Ferry Chapel," whose site was 
 somewhere in the neighborhood of Pocahontas Bridge, 
 *Vas out of repair, and too small to hold the congrega- 
 tion," and that the church wardens were instructed to 
 purchase an acre of land from John Low, on Wells' Hill, 
 Blandford, as a site for a new church ; and further that 
 Robert Boiling and Wm, Poythress were appointed 
 superintendents of the new building, "plans and speci- 
 fications prepared," and that they contracted with one 
 Thomas Ravenscroft to build the church for 485 
 pounds, current money of Virginia. The church was 
 completed in 1737, and in the month of August of that 
 year the vestry held its first meeting in it. This was 
 called the New Brick Church on Wells' Hill, and is to 
 us of to-day the Old Blandford Church, of sacred 
 heritage and precious memories. Though dismantled 
 and unused for worship now, it still stands, its roof and 
 walls in perfect preservation, a silent sentinel over the 
 graves of the sleepers of two hundred years. There 
 are few who enter its ever-open portals, or who tread 
 its vacant aisles, that do not feel a solemnity which 
 silences all save consecrated thought. "A Stranger," 
 whose name has never been known, whilst visiting this 
 hallowed structure some time about the beginning of 
 
42 Sez'oity-iirc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the last century, penned on its walls certain striking and 
 beautiful lines, which can never be reproduced too 
 often.* 
 
 In 1752 a town was ordered to be laid oft from the 
 lands of Richard Wittom, on the northern side of the 
 Appomattox River, just opposite Petersburg — said 
 town to be called Pocahontas ; and John Boiling, 
 Richard Eppes, Augustine Claiborne, and Roger At- 
 kinson were appointed trustees. Amongst the ordi- 
 nances formulated by these worthy gentlemen for the 
 government of this town is one of interest so singular, 
 if not so curious, that it is worth noting, viz : That no 
 wooden chimney should be erected to any house within 
 the precincts of this town. And the sheriff was vested 
 with full power to pull down any such structure. 
 
 At this time, and indeed until the War of the Revo- 
 lution, Blandford was the most prosperous, if not the 
 most populous, of the three corporations which finally 
 coalesced into one city. Socially it was the court end. 
 Its merchants were tlu'ifty, enterprising, and wealthy, 
 carrying on direct trade with the Old Country, their 
 vessels landing their cargoes at Bates' Spring, on the 
 river, just below Blandford. And some of its citizens 
 were men of note, amongst them George Keith Taylor, 
 one of the most eminent jurists of his day, and Dr. John 
 Shore, one of the most eminent physicians. 
 
 In 1850 Petersburg, with its purlieus, Pocahontas and 
 Blandford, became a city, under a charter granted by 
 the General Assembly of Virginia, with power to elect 
 a mayor, common council, and other municipal ofificers, 
 by the people, with a z'iz'a voce vote, under the system 
 designated as manhood suffrage, or universal suf- 
 frage, which had been adopted by the Convention 
 of 1850 in the place of homestead suffrage. And 
 
 *See Appendix. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 43 
 
 here was the entering wedge, as it was predicted 
 at the time, for the introduction of methods and man- 
 agement at the voting precincts which have oftener 
 suppressed than expressed the popular will. I do not 
 refer to its effects on this city alone, or this common- 
 wealth alone, but on every city and every common- 
 wealth where free suffrage, as it is now called, is adopt- 
 ed. And in some of the cities of this great country, 
 under this same license of free suffrage, municipal gov- 
 ernment has not only been a failure or a fraud, but the 
 municipal offices are often filled by men vicious and 
 corrupt, who pluck, to their own repletion, the body 
 politic as their lawful prey. 
 
 In the charter of March, 1850, the mayor was still 
 elected by the council, but afterwards it was changed 
 by vote of the people. On November 5, 1850, the 
 polls were opened on the question whether the mayor 
 should be elected by the council or the people. The 
 vote stood for electing the mayor by the people, 208 ; 
 for electing the mayor by the council, 59 — only 267 
 votes in all. This can easily be understood by reflecting 
 that a qualified voter at that date had to be a "free- 
 holder" of lots within the city, and own property to the 
 value of $150. Free suffrage has increased the num- 
 ber of suffragans greatly out of proportion to popula- 
 tion. 
 
 The population of Petersburg at this time — census 
 of 1850 — was 14,603. The first mayor elected by the 
 people was John Dodson, Esq., attorney at law, a most 
 courteous and elegant gentleman, and one who is 
 doubtless remembered by some of the citizens of this 
 day. For several years before his election most of the 
 functions of the office of mayor devolved upon a magis- 
 trate or police justice — in this instance upon a sturdy 
 and uncompromising old Scotchman known as Squire 
 Patterson. The Squire gave the "lar" (law) to all un- 
 
44 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 fortunate offenders without fear, favor, or affection, 
 and was a terror to evil-doers. His executive officers 
 or policemen were only two — Billy Fenn and Billy Wil- 
 liams, sharp, shrewd, courageous, and sleepless guard- 
 ians of the public safety and the public peace. And 
 though the city embraced at that time within its cor- 
 porate limits a population of nearly 15,000, 1 think that 
 law and order were preserved as well and as fully as 
 now with a police corps of 26, and only about 7,000 
 more souls to superintend. Temporal Mores! 
 
 The society of Petersburg as I found it was refined, 
 cultivated, and exclusive. There were only about 
 6,000 whites, but it would have been diflicult to find in 
 the same population anywhere a greater number of 
 fine women or brave men. It had proudly borne for 
 forty years the soubriquet of the Cockade City of the 
 Union, a title conferred by President Madison in recog- 
 nition of the patriotic service of the "Canada Volun- 
 teers," a company formed from its best citizens, and 
 who marched from Virginia to the northern frontier 
 of the United States, in the War of 181 2, and at 
 Lundy's Lane got their baptism of blood in repelling 
 the British forces. 
 
 On visiting the monument in the Blandford Ceme- 
 tery, erected in memory of these heroes, and reading 
 the names recorded there, one could easily recognize 
 among the citizenship of Petersburg in 1850 many men 
 worthy of their sires, and many women worthy of the 
 men. 
 
 I have said of the society of Petersburg at this time 
 that it was exclusive. This does not indicate that it 
 was cold or repellant. A more hospitable and warm- 
 hearted people did not live, but a stranger was required 
 to bring character and cultivation as his credentials. 
 Money, with its meretricious adornments and its vulgar 
 display, was not the sesame to open any gentleman's 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 45 
 
 door. There were few people of large fortunes, — none 
 as fortunes are estimated now, — but a large propor- 
 tion of the population were possessed of comfortable 
 estates and incomes sufficient to insure a generous 
 support. In no portion of the Commonwealth were 
 the people in easier circumstances. And they mingled 
 in their social gatherings with a freedom and elegance 
 born of the old cavalier stock and worthy of their in- 
 heritance. Their public gala days were the 22d of 
 February — Washington's Birthday, and the 4th of 
 July, the birthday of National Independence. On both 
 of these days business was virtually suspended, and 
 there was a parade of the military and the firing of 
 national salutes. On the night of the 226. of Febru- 
 ary there was generally a ball given at one of the promi- 
 nent hotels, where the beauty and chivalry of the city 
 and surrounding country assembled, 
 
 "And chased the glowing hours with flying feet." 
 
 Military spirit was rife at that time in Petersburg, as 
 it had been for forty years, and as it was at the break- 
 ing out of the Civil War. There were three companies 
 of infantry and one of artillery, all of full ranks and 
 composed of the best material, not only of young men, 
 but of men of any age under forty-five years, the limit 
 of military service. In the ranks were found men of 
 all classes, all grades of social condition, and profes- 
 sions. And this spirit pervaded the community until, 
 when called upon to furnish her quota of volunteer 
 troops for the defense of the South, more soldiers step- 
 ped out to the tap of the drum, and filed away to the 
 field, than there was left of the voting population at 
 home. 
 
 We have spoken of the gala days. The 4th of July 
 was the great day. The military and civic societies 
 paraded in the morning, and in the afternoon a public 
 
46 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia 
 
 dinner, with refreshments solid and Hquid, was served, 
 either on the Poplar Lawn (now Central Park), or on 
 the island in the river, between the present locations 
 of the Norfolk & Western Railroad and the old com- 
 pany shops. A few weeks before the 4th of July a 
 meeting of the citizens was always called at the Court 
 House, and an orator was chosen to make the address 
 at the celebration of the 4th, and a reader to read the 
 Declaration of Independence. 
 
 Although I had not been a resident of the city quite 
 eighteen months, and was but little known, a friend of 
 mine, R. G. Pegram, a young attorney, as I was then 
 a young doctor, nominated me as orator for the 4th of 
 July, 1852. He had had the same honor conferred on 
 him the year preceding, and whether he desired to 
 share with me the laurels won by himself on that oc- 
 casion, or was moved by a spirit of mischief, I never 
 knew. However, I accepted the nomination. Lieu- 
 tenant Davidson, of the United States Navy, a brother 
 of the Misses Nora and Virginia Davidson, the well- 
 known educators of this city, and who, I suspect, are 
 among the few people left that will remember the occa- 
 sion, was appointed reader of the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. The exercises were held on Poplar Lawn. 
 A stand was erected under a large gum tree, still stand- 
 ing by the spring, and the amphitheatre above was fit- 
 ted with rows of seats in semicircles to the summit of 
 the hill. After the parade and the firing of the na- 
 tional salute the military was marched to the Lawn 
 and the orator and the reader were conducted to the 
 stand. On reaching the stand I found seated on the 
 rostrum Governor Johnson, then Governor of Virginia, 
 the Hon. R. K. Meade, the distinguished representative 
 in Congress from the Petersburg District, and several 
 other notables of the Commonwealth and of the city, 
 whilst occupying the seats in the amphitheatre — a great 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 47 
 
 part being ladies — and standing around the circle was a 
 great crowd, filling the air with patriotic huzzas. I saw 
 that 1 had an audience before me of more than a thou- 
 sand, looking into whose faces I could catch the eye 
 of few acquaintances and of fewer friends, whilst seated 
 behind nie were public men of great prominence who 
 had won forensic fame on many a hard-fought field. 
 The scene and the surroundings were sufficiently in- 
 spiring for any speaker, but for me they were rather 
 awe-inspiring and suggestive of an attack of stage 
 fright. 
 
 However, when Lieutenant Davidson had finished 
 the reading of the Declaration I gathered my trem- 
 bHng nerves together and advanced, on call of the mas- 
 ter of ceremonies, to the railing in front of the stand, 
 and, as soon as the applause which greeted my appear- 
 ance subsided, launched out into the patriotic strain 
 peculiar to that day. I was not quite so unaccustomed 
 to public speaking as some of my friends supposed, in 
 fact had often, in the four years of my collegiate course, 
 appeared before the public and aired my young eagles 
 in classic oratory of the schools, but I had never ap- 
 peared before an audience so large and on an occasion 
 so trying. Of course I did not dare to appear before 
 such an assembly of people unprepared. I was sure of 
 my ground, and took for my subject certain salient 
 points in Washington's Farewell Address, so, accus- 
 tomed to "thinking on my feet," — an art that young 
 men should acquire, — never faltered a minute for a 
 word. I had a manuscript buttoned up in the breast 
 of my uniform (I was an officer in the artillery), but 
 I had no recourse to it. Memory did not fail me. 
 And though I have not a fine or scratch of pen of one 
 word which I spoke on that day, yet I can as distinctly 
 remember my exordium as when it passed from my lips 
 more than half a century ago : 
 
48 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Fellow Citizens : 
 
 Called by your too-partial kindness to play so conspicuous a part 
 in the celebration of this natal day of American Independence, you 
 must not expect me to wield any mighty weapon in this battled 
 arena upon which I am thrown. Poetry, painting, and eloquence 
 have exhausted their resources in commemorating this day; and I 
 am neither Homer, nor Apelles, nor Tully. I belong to a profes- 
 sion whose fame is not heard in the echoes of the forum, and 
 whose glories are not enshrined amid the records of forensic elo- 
 quence. I have only a mite to bring, but, as I lay it on the altar, I 
 pray that its incense may arise with the orisons that go up to-day 
 from ten thousand hearts to heaven that God would bless our coun- 
 try and perpetuate our institutions. 
 
 At the conclusion of this sentence there was a great 
 huzza, and an explosion of loud amens from a number 
 of worthy old patriots seated just before me, and on 
 looking down I saw the tears welling from their eyes. 
 Amongst the few that I knew I recognized old Major 
 Lyon, Capt. Daniel Butts, Capt. F. Rives, Rev. Mr. 
 Charlton, and one or two others. I saw at onpe that 
 I had my audience under my power, and the encourage- 
 ment was so full that I had no trouble as I proceeded, 
 but held their attention for nearly an hour, when I sat 
 down, overwhelmed by congratulations and deafened 
 by applause. One enthusiastic gentleman — now an old 
 man and a resident of New York — took me by the hand 
 and said, "It is well, young man, that you did not speak 
 in the old theatre to-day [the 4th of July oration was 
 sometimes delivered there when the weather was bad] ; 
 that applause would have shaken the house down." 
 
 I was greatly elated, of course, and have never 
 scored a success in any manner or time or place, in the 
 fifty years since, which gave me such unquahfied pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 Of course a copy of the address was asked for for 
 publication ; and then came forward two kindly men- 
 tors, sincere and common-sense friends, who said to 
 me: "No, do not print it. It will not read in print as 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 49 
 
 you spoke it. Besides, there was not so much in it 
 after all. You took the people by surprise, for they 
 did not expect so much of you, and they were agree- 
 ably disappointed. Let it end here, and don't let them 
 turn your head." 
 
 I accepted their counsel, knowing that it was wise, 
 and feeling that it was kind. 
 
 But that day's work was far-reaching in its results. 
 When, in a few years subsequently, political fires of 
 such fierceness were kindled in the community that the 
 whole social fabric felt their baleful force, and neigh- 
 bor and friend were separated from neighbor and friend, 
 and faces that before had only smiled on meeting now 
 scowled with hate, I was often called to the front ; and 
 on the hustings encountered many a throng which bore 
 no semblance to that crowd which I swayed and cap- 
 tured on that happy 4th of July, 1852. My meaning 
 will plainly appear when I write of Petersburg from 
 1854 to 1861. 
 
 In the meantime, let us return to Petersburg as it 
 was when I reached it in January, 1850. According 
 to Mr. E. S. Gregory ("Sketches of Petersburg," pub- 
 lished by Campbell & Co.), "no place in this country 
 excelled it for hospitality and liberality. She had a large 
 trade with European ports, which every day added to 
 her growth and wealth. Throughout the whole Union 
 her culture, her cordiality, and her enterprise were 
 commended of all men. The merchants of that day 
 were princes in their profession, exceeded by none for 
 their integrity, their foresight, and their boldness to 
 improve the legitimate opportunities for investment." 
 And these merchants represented every department of 
 trade and commerce. Old Street, as I recall it, was 
 crowded day by day with drays and wagons — country 
 wagons, not the frail and cheap creations of to-day, 
 
 painted red and marked made in some distant State, 
 4 
 
50 Sci't'iity-fii'c Years in Old Plrginia 
 
 and sold by some home business arrangement ; but 
 high, long-bodied, covered with white canvas, in fact 
 regular schooners — ladeli not with small piles of loose 
 tobacco, but three great hogsheads weighing perhaps 
 1, 800 pounds apiece, or with an hundred sacks of corn 
 or wheat, and drawn by six stalwart horses, driven by 
 sable jehus, who, proud of their teams, proud of the 
 masters whom they represented, proud of the music 
 of the jingling bells on their leaders' necks, cracked 
 their long whips in glee, the embodiment of fat, well- 
 fed and contented labor. These wagons were all of 
 home manufacture, in the city or surrounding country, 
 and many of them by a sterling old citizen of Halifax 
 street — price $100; but the buyer could confidently 
 know that he got the worth of his money, the simple 
 inscription "Wells, Maker," being the only guarantee 
 asked or given. Old Mr. Wells — I suspect that few 
 men of to-day remember him ; if they do, they remem- 
 ber him as I do — faithful, honest, just and upright, was 
 the type of the mechanic in Virginia of the olden time : 
 and his work was the model work of a workman's 
 hands, not the shoddy output of machinery. 
 
 Among the merchants on Old Street who handled 
 these products from the planter's hand, and the factors 
 who bought and sold for him, and managed his town 
 business, w^as, as I recall the most prominent of them 
 Thomas Branch, general commission merchant, im- 
 porter of Peruvian guano, buyer of wheat in large quan- 
 tities for export or for sale, etc., who did probably the 
 largest business of the kind in .the city. Mr. Branch 
 was a portly man of fme appearance, cordial in manner, 
 hospitable, and charitable when convinced that the 
 charity was needed, lie was a great Methodist, and 
 for years was a power in the church. After the war, 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 51 
 
 Jjranch & Sons occupied the same location, and in the 
 early seventies removed to Richmond, where one of 
 the firm, Mr. J. P. Branch, still survives. 
 
 Another firm which I recall was Sturdivant, Hurt & 
 Co. These gentlemen did a large grocery and com- 
 mission business, selling great quantities of groceries 
 adapted to the wants of the surrounding country, and 
 handling on commission tobacco, wheat, corn, and, in- 
 deed, all the products of the planter in exchange. They 
 were active, popular, and of excellent credit, and com- 
 manded the confidence of their customers to the full- 
 est extent. One of this noted firm yet survives in the 
 person of our venerable and highly respected citizen 
 Mr. S. J. Hurt, though not now engaged in the same 
 business. 
 
 Then I can recall on this crowded street a number 
 of other commission merchants and grocers, amongst 
 them Peebles, White & Davis, Jones & Blunt, Hall & 
 Peebles, Heath & Mason, and Mr. Lewis Lunsford, a 
 manufacturer of and a very large dealer in whiskeys, 
 who lived on the south side of Old Street, about op- 
 posite Mr. Tarlton Heath's, and whose son has a large 
 feed and grain store on the same street now. On the 
 south side of the Market Square there were a number 
 of Israelitish citizens, dealers in general merchandise, — 
 A. Eichberg, the Cohens, Kulls, — some of whom, or 
 their sons, still survive the half century; and by the 
 thrift, industry, and business capacity peculiar to their 
 race now enjoy deserved prosperity. There were no 
 Jews at that time in business higher up town than the 
 house just below the present stand of Armstrong, the 
 druggist ; this was occupied by Marx Robinson, general 
 dealer. There were several families of EngHsh Jews, 
 the Davises, living on Bollingbrook Street. These 
 were not merchants, but were generally considered 
 rich. 
 
52 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 There were not a great many stores on Bollingbrook 
 Street. Amongst the merchants who did business on 
 that street I readily recall Andrew Kevan & Brother. 
 These were millers, or rather manufacturers of flour, 
 doing a most extensive business, buying probably more 
 wheat in one year than is now brought to the city in 
 twenty years. Mr. Andrew Kevan, the elder partner, 
 was a most public-spirited citizen, taking great interest 
 in municipal affairs, and was, I think, the last mayor of 
 the city under the old regime, when the mayor was 
 selected by the council. Yet Mr. Kevan was not in 
 any measure a politician. lie lived to a very advanced 
 age, never losing his interest in public affairs, and keep- 
 mg to the last that which he merited — the confidence 
 and respect of his fellows. 
 
 On the northeast corner of Bollingbrook and Syca- 
 more Streets were Muir & Stevens, wholesale and re- 
 tail dealers in china, glass-ware, etc.; and adjoining 
 them the large shoe house of Drummond & Wyche. 
 Below them, on the opposite side, was Patrick Booth, 
 afterw^ards Booth & Grigg ; and at the southeast cor- 
 ner of Bollingbrook and Sycamore Streets J. H. Rob- 
 ertson, or Spotswood & Robertson, druggists ; and be- 
 low them on Bollingbrook Street, W. R. Wilkins, mer- 
 chant tailor, and Mr. Charles Loomis, merchant tailor ; 
 and next a lottery office kept by Mr. Granier* and a 
 large confectionery store by Peter Martin. Both of 
 these latter gentlemen had escaped from San Domingo 
 at the general massacre of the whites on that island, 
 and had cast their lots in the United States. 
 
 On Sycamore Street, on the west side, and opposite 
 Bollingbrook, were Daniel Perkinson & Co., saddlers 
 and dealers in harness ; and, passing up the street, 
 Bragg & Wilson, wholesale and retail druggists, oc- 
 
 *Sce Appendix. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 53 
 
 cupying the stand now held by Wm. E. Armstrong & 
 Co., the location of perhaps the oldest drug stand in 
 the city, kept first by Colonel Bragg, then by Bragg & 
 Sons, then by Wm. Bragg, Jr., & Thomas, and then by 
 Bragg & Wilson. William Wilson will be remembered 
 by many of his old comrades of Co. E, 12th Virginia 
 Regiment. He was a genial, generous gentleman, ex- 
 empt by law from military service, but he joined the 
 army of Lee when the siege of Petersburg was begun, 
 and was killed at the Battle of Hatcher's Run, the bul- 
 let cutting the femoral artery. According to the in- 
 fantryman who stood next to him in line, Mr. George 
 S. Bernard, he died almost immediately. 
 
 Next above Bragg & Wilson came Abrams, Lyon 
 & Davis, large dry-goods merchants, mostly retail ; and 
 then Q. & L. Morton, hardware; and Dunn & Spencer, 
 hardware; and Peebles, White & Scott, dry-goods — 
 large assortment of staple and fancy dry-goods, did 
 large country trade; and Mr. John Bradbury, fine and 
 staple dry-goods for same trade ; and E. P. Nash, north- 
 west corner Sycamore and Bank Streets, books and 
 pianos and music, did a very large business. Mr. Nash 
 was a most excellent and enterprising gentleman, and 
 was one of the prime movers in founding the Peters- 
 burg Female College, the building now owned and oc- 
 cupied by Mr. Robert Gilliam. Of the seventeen orig- 
 inal trustees of the college, only one (myself) is living. 
 
 There was another book store kept by Col. J. C. 
 Swann, a gallant old Irish gentleman (on Bank Street, 
 I think) ; and another by Gaines & Riches, which I can 
 not locate. Mr. Riches — an uncle of Dr. Harwood — 
 still survives, in the nineties, the only survivor of the 
 firms whicli I have enumerated. 
 
 On the east side of Sycamore, between Bollingbrook 
 and Bank Streets, I can recall only three stores. 
 These were Echols & Hall, hats, etc. ; the large cloth- 
 
54 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 ing house of Scott, Keen & Co. — the pioneer house for 
 ready-made clothing in the city; Thomas Nowlan, 
 jewelry, watches, etc. ; and at the northeast corner of 
 Sycamore and Lombard Streets, then called "Back" 
 Street, Charles Corling, druggist, successor of Brown 
 & Corling, a very old establishment. This corner was 
 known as "Corling's Corner" for many years. 
 
 Passing up Sycamore Street on the west were 
 Charles Lumsden, afterwards Stevens & Hopkins, jew- 
 elry, watches, silver-ware, etc. ; Thomas Royston, 
 clothing ; Brodnax, Tanner & Wright, retail dry-goods, 
 did a large town and country business ; Samuel Marks, 
 confectioner, who is yet alive, in his nineties; William 
 and Andrew Morgan, gunsmiths, etc. ; and John Pol- 
 lard, saddlery and harness. 
 
 On the east side of Sycamore Street, beginning at 
 Lombard, southeast corner, was Thomas H. Rosser, 
 druggist; then A. Bond (father of A. and Thos. Bond), 
 family grocery; higher up the extensive wholesale dry- 
 goods house of Paul & Mcllwaine ; and of John Steven- 
 son; and the wholesale house of Kerr & Marbury. glass- 
 ware and crockery, importers and extensive dealers ; 
 and the house of Peed & Parson, cabinet makers and 
 manufacturers of furniture generally; and Booth & 
 vSommers, and Turnbull, Morrison & Stone, grocers. 
 Of the latter firm Mr. R. T. Stone is the sole survivor. 
 
 Crossing to the west side of Sycamore Street again, 
 on the northwest corner was Mechanics' Hall ; and 
 crossing over West Tabb Street to the southwest 
 corner of Tabb and Sycamore was the large grocery 
 establishment of Mcllwaine, Brownley & Co., doing the 
 largest business in the city, and probably as large as 
 any in the State. Their building extended from the 
 corner to Powell's Hotel, which occupied the ground 
 recently covered by the Iron Front, Rosenstocks, etc. 
 Above Powell's Hotel was Ragland's Mule and Livery 
 
Petersburg in the fifties 55 
 
 Stables, then came a long row of one-storied wooden 
 shanties, extending as far as St. Paul's Church, which 
 stood some forty or fifty feet back from the street about 
 the present location of Russell's confectionery, 
 Reinach's shoe store, etc. Between St. Paul's Church 
 and the northwest corner of Sycamore and Washing- 
 ton Streets were several stores, amongst them N. M. 
 Martin & Donnan, I think, grocers and commission 
 merchants. At this corner, now occupied by Beckwith 
 as a drug store, was the entrance to Centre Warehouse. 
 Returning to East Tabb Street and east side of Syca- 
 more, we find at the southeast corner Lea & Madison, 
 grocers, and Pitman & Cuthbert. Then passing up 
 the street we find a large and popular boarding-house, 
 kept by Mrs. Ariana Smith — to some extent a place 
 of overflow from Powell's Hotel, just opposite. Then 
 "Harness and Saddlery" by P. M. Steward; a most 
 worthy man, and an excellent merchant. Then there 
 were few or no houses, except West Hill Warehouse, 
 until getting to Franklin Street. At the southeast 
 corner of Franklin and Sycamore Streets was the resi- 
 dence of Rev. Minturn Thrift, whose premises and 
 garden extended along the east side of Sycamore to 
 Washington Street. Crossing Washington Street, on 
 the southeast corner of Washington and Sycamore 
 was an old wooden dwelling occupied by a German 
 family. In this family, some two or three years after- 
 wards, I saw the first case of diphtheria that I ever saw 
 or heard of, and perhaps the first case, or amongst the 
 first, of that disease which had been reported since 
 ]757. It soon made itself known to us, however, and 
 for several years subsequently pervaded the city and 
 made sad havoc amongst the people. It did not con- 
 fine itself especially to children, but claimed its victims 
 amongst young and old. 
 
56 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Following Sycamore Street on the east side there 
 were only two or three houses intervening below Wash- 
 ington and Wythe Streets — one the old brick house, 
 yet standing, and bearing marks of indisputable anti- 
 quity. This w^as owned and occupied by a gentleman 
 named Weeks, and had been used as a tavern, though 
 it was not used for that purpose in 1850-51. Passing 
 Mr. John Dunn's residence there was not another 
 house on the east side of Sycamore between his house 
 and Marshall Street. The whole of the square between 
 the alley running just north of the Petersburg Club 
 House and Marshall Street on the south, and between 
 Adams Street on the east and Sycamore Street on the 
 west, was open, with the exception of the old brick 
 house now standing at the northeast corner of the alley 
 and Adams Street, and was occupied by a Scotchman 
 named McKinsie as a fiower garden. 
 
 But we have followed this line far enough for our pur- 
 pose. The growth of the city, counted by houses, 
 since 1850 has been wonderful. A good part of South 
 Market Street, almost all of West Washington, from 
 South Street; the whole of the square between Wash- 
 ington on the north and Shepherd Street on the south ; 
 and South Street on the east, and Dunlop Street on the 
 west, was a vacant lot. The square on the opposite 
 side of W^est Washington Street, bounded by it on the 
 south, by Pearl Street on the north, by South Street 
 on the east, and Dunlop Street on the west, was vacant, 
 with the exception of two or three old wooden shanties 
 on Washington Street — in fact almost all of what is 
 now the western part of the city has been built up since 
 1850, yet the census of 1900 shows only an increase in 
 population of 7,000 in those fifty years. It is simply in- 
 credible. 
 
 The hotels of the city have not increased in number 
 pari passu with other buildings and with the population. 
 
Petershiivg in tJic Pifties 57 
 
 The principal hotels of that day were three. There 
 was "Powell's," occupying the locality where the "Iron 
 Front" stood, and kept by Mr. Wm. N. Friend, the fa- 
 ther of our respected fellow citizen, Mr. Alfred Friend. 
 This house was mostly patronized by the people of 
 Brunswick, Lunenburg, Mecklenburg, Nottoway, Din- 
 widdle and Amelia Counties, and by people who came 
 to the city by private conveyance from the southside 
 country. There were large stables belonging to the 
 hotel for the care of the horses of the visitors. "The 
 accommodation for man and beast," in parlance of that 
 time, was of the first class. The menu was the menu 
 of the table of the old Virginia country gentleman, and 
 the cuisine and the service could not be surpassed. The 
 dishes were not brought in by detail, nor the contents 
 served in dabs around your plate. When the guest ap- 
 peared at the table he saw before him what there was 
 to eat (the table was long, and not in sections or divis- 
 ions), and a willing servant stood ready to cater to his 
 choice of food. 
 
 At this period almost every one — ladies and gentle- 
 men — was served at the table d'hote; but when, as a 
 boy, I first became acquainted with this house, visiting 
 it with my father and family, when ladies were of the 
 party, we did not sit at the public table, but had a suite 
 of rooms, of which one was always the dining-room. 
 The genius of this room was a courteous old darky, 
 whose bald pate was as polished as his manner, and I 
 shall never forget his reverential obeisance as he took 
 orders for what he should provide for the next meal. 
 Contented, cheery, happy old Sam, — a slave if you 
 choose to call him so — he filled his place perfectly in his 
 day and generation, and passed away, his dust to 
 mingle with the dead of the fine ladies and gallant gen- 
 
58 Sc'i'ciity-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 tlemen whom he delighted to serve, and who loved to 
 reward and honor him. Man and master, the like, or 
 better, can never be reproduced. 
 
 And there were Sam's fellow servants, John Boiling 
 and Sam Boiling, having charge of the rooms of the 
 guests; and Bob Clark in the dining-room, who, with 
 his savings, bought his freedom and opened a livery 
 stable on Lombard Street ; and old Jacob, the porter or 
 omnibus man ; and others whose names I can not re- 
 call — all men whose urbanity, whose faithfulness, and 
 whose integrity might well be copied now by many 
 who look upon their lives as the memories of a degrad- 
 ed humanity. 
 
 Another of the principal hotels was ''Jarratt's" ; still 
 /;/ situ, but changed in all else. This was kept by John 
 Jarratt, a born boniface, Avho knew his business, and 
 who attended to it. His house was always full, and was 
 the hostelry chiefly of the people who came to town 
 by railroad from Greenesville County, Northampton 
 County, and the counties contiguous to the Petersburg- 
 Railroad ; and from North Carolina, whose citizens at 
 that time formed a large contingent of those who came 
 to Petersburg on business or for pleasure. The termi- 
 nus of the Petersburg Railroad was at the Union 
 Street Depot. There the passengers left the train, and 
 those wishing to remain in the city found convenient 
 quarters, and comfortable, withal, at "Jarratt's."' Those 
 wishing to go farther north were hurried into a long 
 omnibus, and behind four horses were driven rapidly 
 to Pocahontas, where the train of the Richmond & 
 Petersburg Railroad awaited them. 'JMie driver was 
 one Plenry, a sable personage, but a master of the reins, 
 and with evident pride in his exalted position on the 
 box. I have seen him recently on our streets, but age 
 and freedom have evidently not dealt very kindly witli 
 him, and one would hardlv recognize in his attenuated 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 59 
 
 form the stately jehu who rattled his pampered team 
 over our rough pavements fifty years ago. 
 
 The other principal hotel was the "Bollingbrook," 
 also still /;/ situ, and kept well by a worthy man at pres- 
 ent ; but he who remembers it in the pride of its past 
 feels now, as he treads its corridors, that he 
 
 "Treads alone some banquet hall deserted, 
 Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead. 
 And all but he departed." 
 
 It was kept at that time by Dr. John Minge, a gen- 
 tleman of the olden school, and who knew how to keep 
 a hotel for gentlemen. It was mostly patronized by the 
 people in the lower counties — Prince George, Sussex, 
 Surry, Southampton, Isle of Wight; by the people 
 "down the river." It was constantly filled, especially 
 by those on pleasure bent, but its great season was the 
 time of the New Market Races. Virginia at that pe- 
 riod, as it had been for many years, was the home of the 
 race-horse and its race tracks were the theatres for the 
 display and for the triumphs of some of the finest 
 coursers which this country has ever produced. 
 Eclipse, Red Eye, Sir Charles, Arabian, Lusborough, 
 Virginius, Baslona, and Andretta were names as fa- 
 miliar to the public as the names of the most prominent 
 politicians and statesmen. Mr. Otway P. Hare, lately 
 deceased in his nineties, was the owner of the New 
 Market grounds, and the owner of some of the finest 
 horses which contended for the prizes, and which won 
 them. At his beautiful home, situate on the hill above 
 the race track, he kept open house, and dispensed the 
 most generous and lavish hospitality. At such times 
 he had for his guests the most famous turfmen of the 
 country, and his stables were the homes of their stock. 
 But the "Bollingbrook" gathered the hundreds who 
 came to the annual display and the annual sport, and 
 "beauty and chivalry" filled its famous halls. 
 
6o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 There were other hotels of minor importance in the 
 city. One at the corner of Old and Short Market 
 Streets; another at the corner of the Old A'larket 
 Square ; another on Second Street, below the "Boiling • 
 brook," on the opposite side. These were cheap tav- 
 erns for the accommodation of people of moderate 
 means. And there were two taverns outside of the 
 corporation, in Dinwiddle County — one at the junction 
 of the Squirrel Level Road and the Court-House Road, 
 at the house now occupied by Mr. Steere; and one at 
 the junction of the Court-House Road and Cox Road. 
 The latter was a long, rambling house of two stories, 
 with a portico running its whole length, and was known 
 by the distinctive title of the "Long 'Onery' " ("Ordi- 
 nary"), a term formerly applied to any house where the 
 meals were furnished at a common table. Planters 
 coming. from the country traversed by the roads be- 
 fore mentioned would time their arrival at these houses 
 so that they could spend the night under their hospi- 
 table roofs, and going into town after early breakfast 
 attend to their business and return to their quarters at 
 night, so as to get an early start for their homes the 
 following morning. 
 
 At the tavern on Second Street I had a professional 
 adventure which came near proving a very serious one 
 for me. I was summoned one morning after breakfast 
 to see a guest at this hotel, and on going to the office 
 and enquiring for the room of my patient I was ad- 
 dressed by a burly, red-headed man at my side, who 
 informed me that he was the person who wished to ."^ee 
 me, and he invited me to his room. On getting there 
 he commenced to ask me a number of desultory and 
 irrelevant questions as to where I was born, where I 
 was educated, whether I had ever matriculated at a 
 school in Berlin or Vienna, how long I had remained 
 there, etc., until I became impatient and said to him 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 6i 
 
 that if he wished to see me professionally I would talk 
 with him, but that I was busy, and if he had nothing 
 more important to say to me 1 would leave. "No/" he 
 answered, "you can't leave. I have something very im- 
 portant to say to you; but this room is not sufficiently 
 private." He then ushered me into an interior and ad- 
 joining room, and locking the door put the key in his 
 pocket. This room was bare of furniture, except a 
 large, heavy bench, upon which he motioned me to be 
 seated. Standing betore me, he told me that he was 
 from Richmond; that he had gone to the confessional 
 that morning before leaving, but that there was some- 
 thing on his mind which he wished to confess to me 
 alone. Still a little annoyed and impatient, I replied, 
 "Let us have it then." Said he, "i am in love." 1 
 was not in the humor to be amused by what I supposed 
 were the fancies of a drunken man, and quickly said, 
 "Open that door; we have had enough ot this." He 
 replied that he would only open that door after he had 
 obtained the object for which he had sent for me. 
 "Well, what is it," I said. He rephed, "I am informed 
 that you brought with you from abroad a formula for a 
 medicine by the administration of which you can make 
 any woman love you whom you wish to win." I answer- 
 ed, "1 am tired of this egregious folly," and was about 
 to seek the door and force it, when he stopped me, say- 
 ing, "I was prepared for this, and am prepared to en- 
 force my demands," showing at the same time a very 
 ugly revolver. I saw then that I was dealing with a mad- 
 man, a powerful man with whom I could not cope in 
 strength, and I recognized at once that I would have 
 to resort to strategy to rescue myself, so I replied : 
 "What you have remarked is true. I have a prescrip- 
 tion for a love powder which will accomplish all that 
 you wish, but I have never shown it or acknowledged 
 it to any living being before. It is simply priceless ; 
 
62 Seveniy-iii'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 but you have me in your power, and if you choose to 
 rob me of it I have no means of preventing you." To 
 this he answered: "I do not propose to rob you. I 
 can pay you, and propose to pay you your full price ; 
 but it is well for vou to understand that I am ooinc- to 
 have it, if I have to resort to violence to secure it." 
 "All right," I said, "put up your pistol. Do you read 
 Latin?" "No," he replied. I then wrote a prescrip- 
 tion for a most powerful depressant emetic, in two 
 powders; told him to take one, and to administer the 
 other to his enamorata when he returned to Richmond. 
 I thought it possible he might summon a boy and send 
 for it and take it whilst he kept me in durance, but had 
 he done so I should have had no fear of him in fifteen 
 minutes after he swallowed it. However, he simply put 
 the formula in his pocket and opened the door, and I 
 lost no time in leaving the room. He followed me, and 
 when we reached the office an oflicer was awaiting 
 him, and immediately took him in charge, informing 
 me that he was an escaped lunatic. The officer politely 
 inquired if I had any charges against him or wished to 
 detain him. "No charges," I said, "and I beg that you 
 will not think of detaining him a minute on my ac- 
 count." 1 did not even give away the love powder 
 story, and could not help hoping that my lunatic would 
 get a little of it before he reached his destination. 
 
 In enumerating the business houses of note on the 
 various streets, 1 omitted to note the establishment of 
 the Leonards, on Old Street, south side, who had a 
 hardware and gun store. It is now greatly enlarged, 
 and conducted by the surviving brother, Mr. Charles 
 Leonard, on Bank Street. On the same side of the 
 street was the saddle and harness manufactory by Mr. 
 B. P. Harrison, a most worthy and excellent Christian 
 man. And on Short Market Street there was a car- 
 riage manufactory, by 'Mw Slaughter; and on Bank 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 63 
 
 Street another by Mr. Camp ; and on Sycamore Street, 
 near West Hill Warehouse, another by Mr. Pope ; and 
 on South Sycamore Street, just where the Lewises now 
 have their extensive business, was still another carriage 
 factory by Mr. Atkinson. These mechanics served 
 their day and generation with faithful, honest work, 
 and no man was compelled to go North or elsewhere to 
 find a handsome or substantial vehicle. Good, substan- 
 tial oak or hickory stock they used, without the plaster 
 of veneer or putty; and their work might have 1:)een 
 likened to the work of the one-horse shay of Dr. 
 Holmes, warranted to run an hundred years and a day. 
 
 There were in different portions of the city the es- 
 tablishments of such mechanics and contractors in brick 
 or wood as Major Daniel Lyon, Mr. Beverly Drink- 
 ard, W. H. Baxter, Lumsden & Shedden, Traylor & 
 Peterson, and others whom I can not recall. 
 
 Of the sons of Tubal-Cain, — workers in brass and 
 iron, — Tappey & Lumsden. at the old stand, still kept 
 up on ^Vashington Street ; and Uriah Wells, who 
 might be called the father of the foundries here, a 
 man no less noted for his mechanical genius than for 
 his rugged countenance, and his incorruptible integrity. 
 His place of business was just where Dunlop's Factory 
 now stands. 
 
 Tobacco, the staple and money crop of the surround- 
 ing country then, was a prime article of manufacture in 
 the city, and the source of her wealth and prosperity. 
 Mr. David Dunlop (not the person who owns and con- 
 ducts a factory now on Old Street) occupied almost a 
 s({uare between the lower part of Bollingbrook and 
 Lombard Streets with his elegant house and capacious 
 factories ; Messrs. Osborne and Chieves occupied the 
 factory on the corner of Washington and Jefiferson 
 Streets now owned and occupied by Mr. John H. Mac- 
 lin; Mr. Robert Leslie, the uncle of Messrs. \Vatson 
 
64 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 and McGill, occupied the factory on Washington Street 
 now owned and occupied by them; Mr. Reuben Rag- 
 land had a large factory at the corner of Washington 
 Street and Jones' Road, and Messrs. Williamson & 
 Venable, young men, who had just come to Petersburg 
 to try their fortunes, occupied a factory at the Basin, 
 on the locality now occupied by Mr. J. E. Routh as a 
 basket and crate factory. Large quantities of tobacco 
 were then brought down in hogsheads on batteaux — 
 long boats — by the river and canal, and the location 
 was a most convenient one for a tobacco factory. Mr. 
 J. P. Williamson, the Williamson of that firm, and one 
 of our most respected and valued citizens, rtill survives, 
 and doubtless holds in kindly memory the halcyon days 
 and nights made merry by the old boatmen of the y\p- 
 pomattox batteaux. 
 
 Messrs. McEnery and McCulloch owned and occu- 
 pied a factory on Washington Street, at the corner of 
 Guarantee, and did a large business ; and the Camer- 
 ons owned and occupied a large factory on Perry 
 Street, though not exactly at the location of their pres- 
 ent factory. 
 
 Twelve years later the most of these buildings were 
 devoted to very different objects. Large, airy, and well 
 ventilated, they were admirably suited for hospitals, 
 and in the spring of 1862 were hired or impressed for 
 that purpose, and were soon filled with sick or wound- 
 ed soldiers. The peaceful art of manufacture had given 
 place to the cruel art of war, and instead of the songs 
 of the dusky operatives at their cheerful work were 
 heard only the groans of the sick or the cries of those 
 who had been wounded in battle. The surgeon had 
 assumed the position of the manager, and many of the 
 colored employees were utilized as nurses and servants, 
 and with the imitativeness, the docility, and kindHness 
 of the slave, soon became as useful as they had been in 
 
Petersburg in the Pifties 65 
 
 their legitimate employment. One of these factories— 
 that of the Camerons — was named the North Carolina 
 Hospital; another — that of Osborne & Chieves, now 
 Maclin's — was named the South Carolina Hospital; 
 and another — that of Robert Leslie's, on Washington 
 Street, now Watson & McGill's — was named the Vir- 
 ginia Hospital; but they were all organized by order 
 of the Confederate Government, The general orders 
 were that the soldiers of these States, when brought to 
 the city sick or wounded, should be assigned to the 
 respective hospitals bearing the name of their States — 
 which were mostly under charge of surgeons from 
 those States — for the sake of convenience and of com- 
 radeship; and this was done so far as practicable, but 
 not fully, as the exigencies of the service made it often 
 impossible. — ) 
 
 The only other factories at this period of any import- 
 ance, or which contributed to any extent to the public 
 interest, were the cotton factories — Matoaca, Ettrick, 
 Battersea, Petersburg Mills, Swift Creek, and Mer- 
 chants' Mills. These factories represented a capital of 
 between $800,000 and $1,000,000, and employed be- 
 tween 800 and 1,000 hands, — white, all of them, — with 
 a monthly pay roll of about $10,000 or $12,000, and 
 average capacity for turning out sheeting and cotton 
 yarns, etc., of about 200,000 yards per week. This was 
 no inconsiderable industry for the period and for this 
 section. Manufactories in the South employing white 
 operatives were but few, and these in Petersburg, for 
 the few years during which they had been established, 
 were considered a God-send to the poorer classes of 
 people in the city and the surrounding counties, en- 
 abling "-hem to secure a decent livlihood, which it was 
 difficult to do by agricultural pursuits, where all the 
 best lands were tilled by planters owning their own la- 
 bor, who had no necessity to hire other help, even had 
 5 
 
66 Sez'cnty-^z'e Years in Old Virghiia 
 
 ] pride of race and caste permitted the white man to 
 /_ labor in the fields by the side of the negro slave. 
 
 Now to conduct the various business pursuits and 
 industries to which we have referred, necessitated capi- 
 tal and money accommodation. This was furnished by 
 men — public-spirited citizens — of fortune, and by the 
 banks. There were three banks in the city at that time. 
 as there are three now — the Exchange Bank, on Bank 
 Street ; George W. Boiling, president ; Pat Durkin, 
 cashier. The Farmers Bank, on Bollingbrook Street ; 
 Wm. Robertson, president ; Pleasant Osborne, cash- 
 ier. And The Bank of Virginia, on Bank Street; Jo- 
 seph Bragg, president ; George W. Stainback, cash- 
 ier. I do not know what amount of capital was invest- 
 ed in these banks or what amount of deposits was re- 
 ceived and utilized by them. They were what were 
 known at that time as State Banks, being banks both 
 of issue and deposit, and their notes of issue were of 
 unexceptionally good credit. Considering the very 
 heavy business which was transacted, not only with the 
 city people, but with the people of the surrounding 
 counties, all of which were then rich and prosperoi's, 
 we take it for granted that their financial condition was 
 about that of the three banks of to-day ; if so, their 
 aggregate capital — stock and undivided profits — must 
 have been about $750,000, their aggregate deposits 
 about $1,850,000, and their gross assets about $2,600,- 
 000, which would have enabled them to do an annual 
 volume of business of $75,000,000 to $100,000,000, not 
 far, I suspect, from the true condition of things. 
 
 We have no accurate knowledge — that is, no knowl- 
 edge from statistics compiled at the time — of the 
 amount of money used directly and indirectly in 
 the tobacco trade, but assuming that at least as much 
 tobacco was produced in the surrounding counties trib- 
 utary to Petersburg at that period as is produced now, 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 6y 
 
 and that as much was brought to this market then as 
 is brought now, — by no means a violent assumption, — 
 we shall count fifteen millions of pounds annually 
 bought by manufacturers and shippers. This at an 
 average of eight cents a pound would have required an 
 expenditure of $1,200,000 passing through first hands. _ 
 Then, as now, this tobacco was manufactured for ex- j 
 port and for domestic purposes. And the average num- 
 ber of hands employed in all branches of the trade was 
 about 3,000, with aggregate wages of about $500,000. 
 Tobacco, not cotton, was king in Petersburg in 1850, 
 And to-day, according to the reports of the Internal 
 Revenue office, 80 per cent, of all the tobacco exported 
 from the United States is exported from Petersburg; 
 and when the annual revenue receipts from Petersburg 
 are $4,000,000 — we may say that tobacco is yet king. 
 
 There were at that time, it is true, two or three grist 
 mills — corn and wheat, of the latter notably the Eagle 
 Mills, and the Kevan Mills, which turned out annually 
 thousands of barrels of flour, not only for home con- 
 sumption, but for export. But the great industrial 
 interests were tobacco and commerce. 
 
 The financial condition of the city was most satisfac- 
 tory. According to Mr. E. S. Gregory in his "Sketch 
 of the History of Petersburg,"' "the annual revenue of 
 the town was $20,000 and the annual expenditures 
 about the same." "And yet," remarks the same author, 
 "the long-headed citizens were said to be greatly con- 
 cerned for fear the town should go to protest and its 
 credit be forever impaired." The rate of taxation was 
 what might be called nominal at this day. During the 
 same year, however, the town was authorized by a vote 
 of the people to subscribe $200,000 to the stock of the 
 Southside Railroad, and the Treasurer of Virginia was 
 required to guarantee the town bonds for the benefit 
 of the Southside Railroad to the amount of $323,000, 
 
68 Seventy-fire Years in Old Virginia 
 
 and the ''Town" was required to mortgage its whole 
 property to indemnify the State as security. This was 
 the commencement of the creation of a debt, which by 
 subsequent expenditures and subsequent issues of 
 bonds for municipal and other improvements amounts 
 to-day to $1,261,000. 
 
 To that day there had been mostly unsalaried offices, 
 and the same rigid economy exercised by those who 
 had the care and oversight of public affairs which they 
 showed in the conduct of their private affairs. In ad- 
 dition, the exchequer was in the hands of men who held 
 and who owned the property responsible for every out- 
 lay of town expenditure, and manhood suffrage had not 
 brought to the surface the hoi polloi who were not so 
 particular about contracting a debt for the discharge or 
 which the tax-gatherer could find no visible assets. 
 What mattered it to Thomas, or Richard, or Henry 
 (late Tom, Dick, or Harry) that his vote should fasten 
 upon the corporation an obligation which he could not 
 be called upon to liquidate! What mattered it that he 
 voted for a scheme involving an hundred, or a thousand, 
 or a million of dollars ! He would not be expected to 
 fumble in his pockets for a dime of the principal or in- 
 terest. But this is old fogyism — worse, it is rank 
 heresy to the new regime and to the eminent domain 
 of young America. On the hustings the wily politician 
 had told the new citizen that brawn and bone were the 
 bulwarks of the State, and that without regard to ma- 
 terial or mental condition ; that he was always called 
 upon to do the labor of the State, and to fight the bat- 
 tles of the State ; and that his voice should be heard in 
 shaping the destiny of the State, especially when des- 
 tiny called for the elevation of said politician to a place 
 of honor or profit. 
 
 Under the new regime the monetary and municipal 
 matters of the city have undergone a marvelous 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 69 
 
 change. One can scarcely realize it. The salaried offi- 
 cers of the city now are — mayor, $1,200; chief of po- 
 lice, $850; one heutenant, $700; two sergeants, $600 
 each, and twenty-two privates at $50 per month each, 
 a grand total of $15,950 per annum for 1900. Compare 
 this with the mayor, or Squire Patterson, poHce jus- 
 tice, of no salary; and Billy Fenn and Billy WilHams, 
 poHcemen, of $500 per annum each in 1850! 
 
 Nor does the sum of $15,950 include the salaries of 
 city attorney, judge of the Hustings Court, auditor of 
 accounts, treasurer, and commissioner of the revenue. 
 The total expenditures for the fiscal year ending June 
 30th, 1900, were $284,165, and total receipts were 
 $264,762. Compare these figures with Mr. Gregory's 
 estimate of $20,000 expenditures and $20,000 receipts 
 in 1850, and then consider that the population of the 
 city has only increased during that period of half a cen- 
 tury about 8,000, and we must conclude that "the world 
 do move," the Rev. John Jasper's opinion to the con- 
 trary notwithstanding. 
 
 The fear of the fathers, however, that the city's credit 
 would suffer and that she would be forced into bank- 
 ruptcy has not yet materialized. On her bonded debt 
 she pays only an average of a little more than five per 
 cent, and finds no difficulty in sellng new bonds at par 
 carrying an interest of five per cent. She, therefore, is 
 far from being insolvent yet. And she not only finds 
 no difficulty in realizing a levy of $1.60 on the whole of 
 the real and personal property of her citizens, but she 
 has solved a difficulty which the United States Govern- 
 ment has not been able to cope with, viz : she can find 
 and tax the income of the citizen. There is but one 
 fraud perpetrated on her revenue which I am told that 
 she has never been able to prevent — a man can expend 
 the whole of his cash and utilize all of his credit in the 
 purchase of United States bonds on the day before he 
 
Seventy-Hvc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 &' 
 
 gives in his list of taxables, and sell them again two 
 days afterwards, he never having seen the bonds in the 
 meantime, they never leaving the broker's hands, but 
 not being taxable he has listed no taxable property. 
 If no one of my many readers has ever been guilty of 
 this little cheat, then him have I not offended. 
 
 The churches of the city have increased in the num- 
 ber of their edifices 50 per cent since 1850; but whether 
 pari passu in the number of the communicants, I have 
 no means of knowing.* I think it certain that there 
 has been a decided change in their regular denomina- 
 tional numbers. The Baptists were then a feeble folk, 
 worshiping in only one small church, at the corner of 
 Market and High Streets, Rev. J. R. Reynoldson, pas- 
 tor. In 1854 he was succeeded by Rev. H. S. Keen, 
 an estimable gentleman and an able preacher. Mr. 
 Keen remained pastor until 1863. In the meantime the 
 old church had been given up and congregation and 
 pastor transferred to the church on Washington Street 
 now known as First Baptist, the building of which was 
 begun in 1853, but was not completed for perhaps sev- 
 eral years. In 1863 Mr. Keen resigned. 
 
 In June, after Lee's surrender, this church was 
 struck by lightning and burned to the ground. It was 
 an exceedingly dark night, and the large ball near the 
 summit of the steeple, burning slowly at first, seemed 
 to those in the distance a great globe of fire in the firm- 
 ament. I had lately returned to the city from my wan- 
 derings after the war, and occupied a rented room in 
 the third story of a house on Bank Street. It was about 
 II or 12 o'clock at night when I was aroused by my 
 landlady rattling my bolt very vehemently and calling 
 
 *The aggregate membership of the Baptist churches of Peters- 
 burg was reported to the Portsmouth Association in 1850 at 318; in 
 igoo to the same Association 1244. And other denominations can 
 show the same increase. 
 
Petersburg in the fifties yi 
 
 to me in the most excited manner, "Get up, Doctor, 
 get up ! The planet Mars is on fire, and Judgment Day 
 has come !" With such a startling announcement I lost 
 iio time in getting up and rushing to the window to sat- 
 isfy myself in reference to the great catastrophe. And 
 forsooth nothing could be seen from my position but 
 an immense globe of fire, seemingly in the heavens, and 
 nothing visible near it. I really could form no idea of 
 what the phenomena meant, but thought it best to put 
 on my clothes and make myself presentable and ready 
 for any event. By the time I was dressed, however, 
 the fire had made such headway that the roof of the 
 church had caught and the illumination made the true 
 condition of things apparent. 
 
 The city was filled, not only with Confederate sol- 
 diers returned from fields and prison, but with Federal 
 soldiers, a number of whose regiments had been de- 
 tained here, and some effort was made, the Federals as- 
 sisting, to extinguish the flames, but with no regular 
 fire organization — the city had not yet settled down to 
 municipal order — nothing could be done, and the edi- 
 fice was soon in ashes. But the planet Mars was saved. 
 
 The congregation worshiped in Mechanics' Hall until 
 the present beautiful church was completed, having 
 successively as pastors Rev. Mr. Keene, Rev. T. H. 
 Prichard, Rev. W. G. Hatcher, Rev. T. T. Eaton, Rev. 
 Mr. Dargan, all faithful and fearless, yet exceptionally 
 beloved and popular, and at the present time the dis- 
 tinguished divine and eloquent pulpit orator Dr. PI. W. 
 Battle, under whose administration the church grows 
 and flourishes. 
 
 There were two Methodist churches in Petersburg 
 in 1 85 1, one the Washington Street Church and the 
 other the High Street Church, both standing yet in the 
 same locality. The former was the outcome or over- 
 flow of the old Union Street Church, now occupied by 
 
^2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 one of the colored Methodist congregations in the city. 
 Washington Street Church* might probably be called 
 the mother church of the Methodist churches of Pe- 
 tersburg, as from it went out the other Methodist con- 
 gregations, now numbering some four or five. The 
 membership at that time was 666, and the church was 
 probably the largest and the wealthiest, and the most 
 influential in the city. Mr. D'Arcy Paul was the leader 
 of the choir and the leader of the church. Tall, erect, 
 dignified, commanding in figure, he was noted in man- 
 ner, not only in the church, but upon 'Change, and 
 more noted for his great generosity, his liberal charity, 
 and a character so pure that the Evil One himself 
 would have been ashamed of an attempt to smirch it. 
 He lived long, a useful, public-spirited citizen, success- 
 ful in business, amassing a fortune which he did not re- 
 serve to be distributed amongst others, as so many doj 
 when he could no longer enjoy it for his own pleasure ; 
 but acting as his own almoner and executor, he placed 
 it in his lifetime where vain folly could not garner it 
 nor moths corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal 
 it. 
 
 The T. C. Paul's Female Orphan Asylum, founded 
 by himself, cared for by himself when living, and de- 
 pendent mostly upon his endowment for its present 
 support, is a monument to his name and an inscription 
 to his memory which time cannot destroy or efface. 
 This institution was in its infancy in January, 1851, and 
 
 *At the close of the conference year 1850 the membership of the 
 Washington Street Church was reported as 666, and at the close of 
 the conference year igoo the membership was reported as 575. Of 
 the 666 reported in 1850, 230 were males, and of this number nine 
 only are alive. For this information I am indebted to one of the 
 nine, Mr. J. W. Bradbury, who can be relied upon for his figures, 
 or for anything else which he endorses. Eight years afterwards, in 
 1^5^. 'iii members of the church were transferred to Market Street 
 Church, forming the nucleus of that congregation; of that number 
 we can trace only some six or eight living at this time. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties yi) 
 
 had been erected and endowed by Mr. Paul in memory 
 of a promising young son whom he had lost, and who 
 requested of his father before his death that the portion 
 of his patrimony coming to him might be devoted to 
 the erection of a home for homeless young girls. Hun- 
 dreds of young girls have been housed and reared there, 
 and many of them are worthy, respected mothers and 
 grandmothers, filling honorable and useful places in 
 life, who would otherwise have grown up in ignorance 
 and vice. And their example and influence have gone 
 out with them from that Home and have led others 
 who were astray into paths of virtue and peace. I am 
 personally cognizant of these facts, and I am sure that 
 only eternity can reveal the wide-spreading, far-reach- 
 ing power for good which the pious request of that 
 dying boy has accomplished. 
 
 The Rev. Nelson Head was the pastor of the church 
 at the time referred to, a plain, practical, godly man, 
 and a preacher of sound doctrine as he saw it — a man 
 "who never placed a flower of earthly sort about the 
 sacred text." And after him, Anthony Dibrell, a 
 Boanerges, catching his inspiration from Sinai, and 
 with impassioned eloquence "persuading men" with the 
 "terrors of the law." Transferred to Norfolk a few 
 years after, he fell at his post, serving his people faith- 
 fully during the terrible scourge of yellow fever which 
 swept over that devoted city in the summer of 1855. 
 
 After him came Jno. E. Edwards, polished, brilliant, 
 versatile, eloquent, attracting large congregations to 
 his church, and gathering great numbers of friends at 
 his fireside. And then— but the rotating pastorate, the 
 law and the genius of the Methodist people is such that 
 it is difficult to trace from memory the successive min- 
 isters who filled the pulpit. I can recall, however, the 
 Duncans, James and David, brothers — the former pos- 
 sessing powers of oratory which commanded and 
 
74 Scz'ciity-fii'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 kindled any audience, whether he spoke from the pulpit 
 or the rostrum; the latter, a loving, pious man, a good 
 preacher and a good pastor, whom the church elected 
 to the bishopric a few years subsequently; and Charles 
 H. Hall, who died in 1872 whilst serving a pastorate 
 term for that church, and whose death is commemor- 
 ated by a tablet on its walls near the pulpit from which 
 he so often preached to the people. His life is com- 
 memorated in the hearts of hundreds of all classes and 
 of all religious associations, w'ho loved to linger and 
 listen to the choice language in which he propounded 
 the law or plead mercy, and feeling in his soul the mo- 
 mentous import of his message, besought them as an 
 ambassador of God to be reconciled to Him. The 
 highest and the humblest waited equally upon his 
 words, and I have recently heard one of his humble 
 auditors say that "Charley Hall could preach all around 
 any preacher of the day." 
 
 Many men — good, true, faithful, learned, and earnest 
 — have follow'ed him in the same pulpit and in other 
 pulpits of the city, but it is a matter of remark that they 
 do not draw now as they did some years ago. 
 
 Perhaps the pew is as much to blame as the pulpit ; 
 the forward impetuous rush of the time for riches, the 
 great reward of wealth which awaits the zealous work- 
 er, and the astute speculator, have left men but little 
 leisure to look after interests eternal, it is true, but too 
 far off, and with no present prospect of yielding any 
 good. 
 
 The churches were, most of them, at Sabbath ser- 
 vice, both morning and night, filled. This was es- 
 pecially true of St. Paul's Episcopal Church on Syca- 
 more Street, and of the Methodist church on Washing- 
 ton Street, of which we are writing. It was no uncom- 
 mon thing for chairs and benches to be brought into 
 the aisles of the latter church, c\-en on ordinary occa- 
 
Petersburg in the Piftics 75 
 
 sions, to accommodate the people. This was often true 
 in reference to Market Street Church, which, in 1857- 
 '58, had been built as an overflow from Washington 
 Street. This was a pewed church for some ye^rs, and 
 was called the church of the Methodist aristocracy. 
 Dr. J. E. Edwards, before referred to, was the first pas- 
 tor, and indeed its founder, as is attested by a mural 
 tablet near the pulpit. Some able men followed him 
 in the revolving pastorate, among them Revs. Sledd. 
 Langhorn, Judkins, Garland, Granbery, and other^-. 
 Rev. Granbery, now an eminent prelate and bishop of 
 the church, was a classmate of mine at college. After 
 a three-years curriculum we took the graduating de- 
 gree A. B., and curiously enough our record summed 
 to the same number and entitled us both to the first 
 honor. The faculty, in determining between us, resort- 
 ed to the old device of drawing straws. Granbery got 
 the long straw, and, forsooth, has kept it through life. 
 This I have referred to before. 
 
 There were only two Episcopal churches in Peters- 
 burg in January, 1851. One, St. Paul's, on Sycamore 
 Street, some forty or fifty feet back from the street, on 
 the west side, and located where Russell's confection- 
 ery and Reinach's shoe store now stand. This 
 church was the outcome of the congregation of the old 
 Blandford Church, the congregation having removed 
 to Petersburg in 1802, and worshiped in a small brick 
 building situated on what is known now as the Court- 
 House Hill. This church was enlarged and rebuilt in 
 1806, and answered the purpose, according to Bishop 
 Meade, "until 1839, when a larger and more expensive 
 one was erected in a more convenient place." This re- 
 fers to the church on Sycamore Street, we presume, as 
 we find that it was consecrated by Bishop Moore on the 
 5th of April, 1839. 
 
76 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia 
 
 This congregation was under the pastorate of Rev. 
 Andrew Syme from 1794 to 1839, forty-five years. "Old 
 Parson Syme," as I have so often heard my mother 
 speak of him, must have been a man of varied accom- 
 pHshments, of rare grace, and of great good sense to 
 have retained his hold upon the people for so long a 
 time. 
 
 The church was under the charge of Rev. Horace 
 Stringfellow at the time to which I have referred, Jan- 
 uary, 1 85 1. He was a grave and godly man of patri- 
 archial appearance, without any of the arts of oratory, 
 but sound in doctrine, and "rightly dividing the word 
 of truth" as he saw the truth. He resigned in 1855, 
 since which time the church has had in the forty-five 
 years intervening, eight successive pastors, all of whom, 
 excepting Rev. W. H. Piatt, from 1856 to 1865, the 
 Rev. Bishop Winfield, from 1865 to 1875, and Rev. C. 
 R. Hains, from 1875 to 1895, have served but brief pas- 
 torates. As Dr. Piatt and Dr. Winfield have both 
 passed beyond the reach of praise or censure, and as 
 the personal friend and trusted physician of both, I 
 had especial opportunity of knowing them, not only as 
 clergymen, but outside of the sacred desk ; it pleases 
 me to write of them as I knew them, and to render such 
 witness to their worth as my humble words can carry. 
 
 Dr. Piatt was a man of versatile genius, and had led 
 quite a checkered life — a lawyer in its beginning, a sol- 
 dier in its prime, and in his maturer and better years, a 
 minister of the gospel of peace. In all these offices, and 
 in the duties incident to them, he measured up to the 
 full standard of manhood. He came to the church in 
 this city in troublous times, his pastorate covering the 
 eventful period of 1853 to 1865. His influence for 
 good, not only as a clergyman, but as a citizen and as 
 a patriot was marked. In the dark days of i864-'65, 
 when the merciless and barbarous shelling of the city 
 
Petersburg in tJte Fifties yy 
 
 from the enemy's lines, which encircled it, made it per- 
 ilous for the congregations to gather in the churches, 
 and public religious services had been well-nigh aband- 
 oned, he addressed a letter of protest to General 
 Meade against such vandalism, and an appeal to him 
 as a Christian soldier to stop the war, at least against 
 worship and against women and children, of whom the 
 worshipers mostly consisted; and to leave to them the 
 sanctity of the Sabbath, one day's respite of the seven, 
 from the unnecessary cruelties of the siege. This let- 
 ter had the desired effect ; from that day to the end of 
 the siege there was no more firing on Sunday, and from 
 that day there was peace in the city on the Sabbath. 
 
 As a preacher. Dr. Piatt was graceful, classic, and 
 eloquent ; as a pastor he was gentle, sympathizing, and 
 loving. His mind was cultivated, vigorous, and grasp- 
 ing, and its versatility wonderful.* From the deepest 
 problems in philosophy and in the subtlest metaphys- 
 ics, in which he delighted and of which he was 
 no ordinary master, he could drift into poetry of 
 the most perfect measure and of the sweetest 
 minstrelsy. Indeed, it may be said of him that 
 he was preacher, poet, and philosopher. In his in- 
 tercourse with his fellow-men he had a charm of man- 
 ner that was almost magnetic ; and though pronounced 
 in his own views, he trespassed upon no man's opinion, 
 his theology, or his politics. Hence he was always 
 popular. 
 
 The pastorate of Rev. Dr. Winfield extended from 
 1868 to 1875, when he was made Bishop of California. 
 Dr. Winfield was a man of deep piety, dignified in man- 
 ner, not easily approachable by any one, of most pro- 
 nounced opinion, which he held, and was capable of 
 
 *In the above sketch of Dr. Piatt I am plagiarizing from an 
 humble record which I have heretofore made in another place. 
 
78 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 holding, against any odds ; a bold and aggressive ad- 
 vocate, and a most fearless and uncompromising de- 
 fender of the doctrines of the church as he construed 
 them. Those who attended his services might expect 
 to hear the truth as he saw it expounded with vigor 
 and with eloquence ; with no waste of words of amity, 
 and regardless where his scimeter fell, or whose harness 
 it pierced to the dividing asunder of soul and marrow.* 
 But he was very popular, he filled his church, and peo- 
 ple went to hear him, not only because the purity of 
 his life attested his professional honesty, but because 
 he preached to them without the froth or foam of 
 rhetorical display, in words worthy of the gravity of his 
 theme, and in language commensurate in its force with 
 the immense interests which he set before them. "Life 
 or death, spiritual and eternal." 
 
 Dr. Hain's pastorate continued from 1875 to 1895, 
 when from some affection of the vocal chords he lost 
 the power of speech to such an extent that he was un- 
 able to preach, and felt compelled to resign. Whilst 
 in the pulpit, he preached the pure word of God with 
 plainness and with love, and has ever since to the pres- 
 ent day, living amongst his old parishioners, commend- 
 ed in walk and conversation that religion which teaches 
 one to sufifer and to wait when one can no longer serve. 
 The church increased in numbers and in favor with God 
 and man during his pastorate ; and the present active, 
 energetic, earnest and spiritual man who was called to 
 
 *Probably some members of the present congregation of St. Paul's 
 Church can remember an incident at a certain Sunday morning's 
 service, showing Dr. Winfield's boldness in discussing a subject of 
 some delicacy — that of dancing, that even now is considered diffi- 
 cult to handle, though the church and the world have made a 
 compromise in the matter, a compromise in which some good peo- 
 ple suppose that the world got the best of the church. I will guar- 
 antee that Dr. Winfield did not sign the paper. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 79 
 
 fill his place, Rev. O. S. Bunting, promises, not only to 
 keep the heritage, but to enlarge its borders. 
 
 Grace Episcopal Church, in 1850, was situated on 
 Old Street, just opposite Snyder's drug store, but it 
 was not completed till August, 1853. The brick build- 
 ing still stands, but given over to commercial purposes, 
 and, though consecrated to God, is consigned to the 
 keeping of peanut factors. 
 
 This may all be very well, but it always seemed to me 
 to be a sort of desecration to divert a temple, reared to 
 the most High God, to the baser purposes of trade. 
 This congregation some eight years before had wor- 
 shiped in a small wooden building immediately on the 
 Appomattox, just about where Williams' Mill now 
 stands, under the pastorate of Rev. J. C. Gibson. This 
 house was so near the water that one could easily step 
 from the side door or window into the river, forming 
 at this point an admirable and natural baptistry. When 
 the congregation grew so large that it had to seek an 
 outlet, it was supposed that, "being much water there," 
 another congregation, the administration of whose pe- 
 culiar rites required such a convenience, might be in- 
 duced to locate in the abandoned building. But if such 
 suggestion was ever made it failed to materialize, and 
 this house, also consecrated to holiest purposes, was 
 turned over to the common uses of an ordinary tene- 
 ment house. 
 
 Under the pious, zealous, and indefatigable labors of 
 "Parson Gibson," as he was then called by many of his 
 people, the congregation at the church on Old Street 
 in less than ten years again outgrew the capacity of the 
 building, and a lot was bought on High Street, and the 
 corner-stone of the present edifice was laid December, 
 1859. The basement was finished sufficiently for wor- 
 ship in July, 1861 ; but the war and its incidents pre- 
 vented its completion before 1870, and in April of that 
 
So Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 year Grace Church was consecrated by Bishop Johns 
 for the third time. Let us hope that this building, at 
 least, "erected for the public worship of God, and sepa- 
 rated from all unhallowed, worldly and common uses," 
 in order to fill men's minds with greater reverence for 
 His Glorious Majesty, may never become a house of 
 merchandise, but remain, as it was set apart in the of- 
 fices of consecration, as a house where "His holy name 
 may be worshiped in all generations." 
 
 In more than half a century Grace Church had only 
 one pastor. Rev. J. C. Gibson. In that time he built 
 up the church from a few straggling communicants to 
 one of the largest and most influential in the city. It 
 is difficult to give a correct portraiture of the character 
 of this remarkable man, for remarkable he must have 
 been to have gone in and out before one congregation 
 for so long a time, not only without offense, but belov- 
 ed and honored by all. As a preacher he had none of 
 the graces of oratory, "hanging no flowers of earthly 
 sort upon the sacred text" ; plain, pungent, and prac- 
 tical, "he spake as one having authority," "and the peo- 
 ple heard him gladly." In private he not only reproved 
 sin wherever he found it, but he gave such a lustrous 
 example in himself of a godly walk and of a pure life, 
 that neither malice nor scandal ever dared to touch the 
 hem of his garment; "wise as a serpent, yet harmless 
 as a dove," he had learned of his great prototype, Paul, 
 "to be all things to all men, if perchance he might save 
 some." At the semi-centennial celebration of his pas- 
 torate, the ministers of all denominations assembled 
 at his church to join in the services, and to express by 
 their presence their great appreciation of his work, and 
 by their prayers their earnest wish that God would yet 
 retain him for many years as an ambassador of His 
 cause and kingdom. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 8i 
 
 A purse of gold was presented him by his friends, 
 but this gift was as nothing to the noble tribute paid 
 him by the presence and congratulations of the clergy 
 of other churches of the city, many of whom had differ- 
 ed from him in doctrine and opposed him in form, with 
 a force and vigor characteristic of ecclesiastical dis- 
 cussion. 
 
 He lived several years after his semi-centennial, and 
 was succeeded by his youthful curate — a young gentle- 
 man gifted, popular, and attractive, but who will need to 
 keep his armor burnished if he is to succeed in main- 
 taining the prestige of his predecessor. 
 
 The Presbyterians in January, 1851, consisted of two 
 congregations, one worshiping in the Tabb Street 
 Church (not the present building) and one on High 
 Street, in a building which stood in the place now built 
 up and known as Baltimore Row. Though the Han- 
 over Presbytery was organized as far back as 1755, it 
 seems there was no Presbyterian church, or even any 
 stated Presbyterian worship, prevailing in Petersburg 
 prior to 1812 or 1813. 
 
 About this time the Rev. B. H. Rice, a native Virgin- 
 ian, but who had been preaching in Pennsylvania, came 
 South with a commission from the General Assembly 
 as a missionary, and commenced to preach in an un- 
 finished store on Bank Street. There were but two 
 members of the church in his congregation, but in a 
 twelve-month the membership had increased from two 
 to twenty, and the church was regularly organized, and 
 Mr. Rice chosen as pastor, and was regularly installed 
 by the Presbytery of Hanover at the spring session of 
 1814. This was the humble beginning of the present 
 prosperous, large, and influential denomination in Pe- 
 tersburg. In 1822 the congregation had so increased 
 that more enlarged and more comfortable quarters 
 were sought, and a church was built on Tabb Street, 
 
 6 
 
82 Scz'cnly-ii've Years in Old Virginia 
 
 on a locality on the opposite side of the street from that 
 occupied by the present building, and in 1824, in this 
 building, known as Tabb Street Church, was held a 
 session of the Synod. In November, 1841, this build- 
 ing was destroyed by a disastrous fire, which also burn- 
 ed Powell's Hotel, then standing where the Iron Front 
 stores recently stood, and with it many valuable houses 
 in the vicinity. The large stables belonging to Pow- 
 ell's Hotel were also burned, with many fine horses. 
 I was in the city at the time, and, witnessing this acci- 
 dent, I was more impressed as a boy with the loss of 
 those stables, I suspect, than I was with the loss of the 
 church. In less than four years the present beautiful 
 and substantial structure was rebuilt on the north side 
 of the street, and was dedicated to God by Rev. W. T. 
 Plummer in January, 1844, Dr. John Leyburn being at 
 that time pastor. The pastor of Tabb Street Church 
 in January, 185 1, was Rev. A. B. Vanzant, a scholarly 
 man and a good preacher, acceptable to the people, and 
 successful in building up the church, it was said. I 
 never had the pleasure of knowing him, and heard him 
 preach only a few times, though he was the pastor until 
 1856. During the same year, 185 1, the Second Presby- 
 terian Church was organized, November 14, by twen- 
 ty-two members dismissed from Tabb Street Church 
 for that purpose. This colony settled in the old church 
 building on High Street, w'hich I think had been occu- 
 pied at one time by a different branch of the Presby- 
 terian Church, and before that time had been once util- 
 ized as a shot tower, a base usage, one would think — a 
 manufactory of ammunition, but only on advanced 
 lines, as the Christian nations had not then carried the 
 Bible upon the bayonet, or sought to augment the 
 teachings of the New Testament with shrapnel and 
 grape. The Prince of the House of David was yet on 
 His way to Jerusalem, hailed with hosannas by his ex- 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 83 
 
 altant worshipers, and the warrior and the war-horse, 
 with sabres of artillery and with the bugle's martial 
 call, were awaiting the centuries of the promise of 
 "peace and good will to men." 
 
 Is it a coincidence that of the three eminent gentle- 
 men who served this church in the line of pastorate for 
 the first ten years of its work, one was a Boanerges, 
 a preacher of, and a believer in, muscular Christianity, a 
 sterling and true minister of the Church MiHtant — and 
 another commanded a battery of Confederate artillery, 
 and fought with the same zeal and distinguished ability 
 that characterized his subsequent services in the pulpit 
 — that shot were moulded only a few years in advance 
 of the occasion? 
 
 From the date of its organization in 181 3 to 1900. 
 Tabb Street Church was served by seventeen different 
 pastors, one on an average of every five years. Of the 
 ten who served the church during the last half century. 
 I had the pleasure of knowing only four of them, the 
 Revs. Rutherford, Witherspoon, Kerr, and Rosebro. 
 These gentlemen were all noted for their polished man- 
 ners, their unaffected piety, and for their scholarly, but 
 earnest and eloquent presentation of the truth. Cir- 
 cumstances made me more intimately acquainted 
 with Drs. Witherspoon and Rosebro; and few minis- 
 ters have impressed me more forcibly with the idea 
 that, unconscious of self or forgetful of self, they were 
 going about their Master's business, ready in all things 
 to do and to abide His holy will. To one who sat on 
 the outskirts of the congregation and watched them in 
 their daily walk amongst men, they seemed to "glory 
 only in the Cross of Christ," and to commend not 
 themselves, but only the Crucified One. 
 
 The Second Presbyterian congregation worshiped in 
 the building on High Street before referred to, until 
 1863, when the present church was erected on Wash- 
 
84 y'^ei'cufy-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 ington Street. Its first pastor, the Rev. Mr. Wilson, 
 was inaugurated the year of my arrival in Petersburg, 
 and served only a few years. He was succeeded by 
 Rev. Dr. Theo. Pryor; he by Rev. Dr. Miller, who for 
 a few years had served the Tabb Street congregation ; 
 he by Rev. Mr. Petrie, and he by the present solid, con- 
 servative, and consecrated man of God, Mr. Wynn. 
 The average pastorate was ten years. 
 
 Dr. Pryor, after a few years' service at this church, 
 removed to Nottoway County, and in the church at 
 Nottoway Court House preached with great vigor and 
 eloquence, even to an advanced old age. Dr. Pryor 
 was a man cast in the mould of which martyrs were 
 made in the olden time, and whether roasted, broiled, 
 or boiled, he would never have yielded one iota in the 
 confession of that faith which he so long held and so 
 strongly defended.* 
 
 *Dr. Theo Pryor was one of four young gentlemen who com- 
 menced the practice of law in the county of Dinwiddle about 1820, 
 each one of whom on professing religion some few years afterwards, 
 left the law and entered the ministry. The others were the two At- 
 kinsons of that county, one of whom became a Bishop in the Pro- 
 testant Episcopal Church, and the other a distinguished divine in 
 the Presbyterian Church and professor at Hampden-Sidney College, 
 and the fourth was my honored father, who left the law after he had 
 attained distinction, and became a local preacher in the Methodist 
 Church. I have lately unearthed his license to practise law, dated 
 the 14th day of February, 1820, and append the full text : 
 Virginia, to zvit : 
 
 Whereas, John Gregory Claiborne, gentleman, hath produced to us 
 the requisite certificate from the county court of Dinwiddie, touching 
 his honesty, probity, and good demeanor, and hath applied to us for 
 a license to practise Law, and having examined him as to his knowl- 
 edge of the Law and found him duly qualified, therefore, we license 
 him, the said John Gregory Claiborne, to practise the Law in the 
 Supreme and Inferior Courts of this commonwealth. Given under 
 our hands and seals this 14th day of February, 1820. 
 
 SPENCER ROANE (Seal), 
 VVM. II. CABELL. (Seal), 
 WM. BROCKENBOROUGH (Seal). 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 85 
 
 L 
 
 The Catholic congregation of Petersburg was or- 
 ganized about 1820 with about fifty members, and mass 
 was said for the first time, and for twenty-one years 
 afterwards, in a house at the corner of Short Market 
 and High Streets. There was no regular pastor of this 
 people during all that period, but in 1841 the church 
 at the corner of Washington and Long Market Streets 
 was built, and was dedicated in January, 1842, by 
 Bishop Whalan as St, Joseph's CathoHc Church of 
 Petersburg, the Rev. S. A. Bernier the first resident 
 priest. 
 
 In 185 1, when I came to Petersburg, the resident 
 priest was the Rev. Joseph Dixon. I do not remember 
 to have met him. In 1853 the Rev. Father Hitzel- 
 berger was transferred from Norfolk to Petersburg and 
 remained as pastor of the church for three years. In 
 our mutual ministrations to the sick, especially in one 
 family of prominence at that time, we became well 
 acquainted. He was a man of great learning and re- 
 search, and a most genial and agreeable companion. 
 He resigned his pastorate in 1856 to become a Jesuit, 
 and Rev. Father Mulvey, D. D., took his place, and 
 continued in office for sixteen years. 
 
 During this eventful period, the most eventful and 
 the most unhappy in the history of Petersburg, when 
 for four years a cruel and relentless war was 
 waged even to her doors, and the blood of father and 
 son shed by a merciless foe stained the very lintels of 
 the homesteads they were called to save from violence 
 and rapine, and in the four successive years of the so- 
 called peace, worse than the peace which reigned at 
 Warsaw, — the years of oppression and humihation of 
 a gallant but unarmed people, when the foot of the 
 slave was placed by the conqueror upon the neck of his 
 master, and the grasp of the carpet-bagger, less piti- 
 ful and less respectable than the slave, was gathering 
 
86 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia 
 
 up the little that was left to feed the hungry and to sup- 
 port the helpless, — Father IMulvey walked amongst us 
 brave, cheerful, cheering, helping where help was possi- 
 ble, and dispensing to all, friend and foe alike, the con- 
 solations of his holy office. During the fearful assault 
 of the siege, when shot and shell rained devastation 
 upon this devoted city, he seemed as unaffected by 
 danger as though devoid of fear. During the last day 
 of the siege, when the fighting was almost continuous 
 charge and repulse, a young captain, not yet of age, 
 in leading a forlorn hope, was shot through the body, 
 and brought back to the rear by the ambulance corps. 
 I was called to him, but saw at once that his hurt was 
 beyond human help. Recognizing him, and knowing 
 that he was a Catholic, 1 directed a soldier to summon 
 Father Mulvey. He must have been somewhere near, 
 for in a few minutes he was at my side. I pointed out 
 the young officer, and told the Father that he had but 
 a little time left, as the death damp had already gather- 
 ed on his brow, when the good man spoke up, "Oh, he 
 is all right, he is all right, I saw him before you." But 
 he came to us, and kneeling down administered the last 
 offices of the church, the gallant young fellow receiving 
 them with perfect faith, and passing away with a smile 
 from the boundary line of battle to the borders of that 
 land where the nations learn war no more. 
 
 Father Mulvey remained in charge of the church in 
 Petersburg until 1872. He died in December of that 
 year, and was buried on the 15th, followed to the ceme- 
 tery by great crowds of people, irrespective of de- 
 nominational association — people who gathered at his 
 funeral to testify their appreciation of his worth and 
 of his loss to a community in which he had lived to 
 dispense so many deeds of mercy and of chanty. 
 Bishop, now Cardinal Gibbons, preached a most able 
 and eloquent sermon; but nothing of the many good 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 87 
 
 words in which he referred to the departed priest bore 
 so telling a significance, built up so beautiful an 
 eulogium, as when he said: "Father Mulvey lived and 
 died poor, and his superflous means he distributed to 
 the poor. At his death there was perhaps as much as 
 $10 found in his house." 
 
 Father Mulvey was a man of ripe learning, an Eng- 
 lish, Greek, and Latin scholar of such accepted merit 
 that the propaganda of Rome conferred on him the 
 title of D. D., an honor which with characteristic 
 modesty he declined. As a man he was most com- 
 panionable, his conversation abounding in anecdote, 
 and enriched with the brightest of Irish humor. It 
 was my privilege to have held his confidence and to 
 have enjoyed his friendship ; and standing by his bed 
 cit the last to have witnessed his final fearless fight and 
 victory over death. Gently in his bereft senses, cheer- 
 ily, even playfully, he rallied a kind old parishioner who 
 was weeping bitterly beside his bed — then simply closed 
 his eyes and slept. 
 
 During a short interregnum of Father Mulvey's 
 pastorate, whilst he was temporarily called to fill the 
 place of Bishop Gibbons during a visit to Rome, Father 
 Van der Plas, a talented and bright young priest from 
 Holland, was assigned to St. Joseph's Church ; but, 
 poor fellow, he succumbed to an attack of fever and 
 died after only a few months of service. After the 
 death of Father Mulvey, the Rev. T. J. Wilson was ap- 
 pointed to the rectorship of St. Joseph's Church. 
 Father Wilson was a generous, big-hearted, genial 
 Irishman, who soon made his way to the hearts, not 
 only of his own congregation, but of the people of all 
 denominations, and those of no denomination. His 
 charities were great and bestowed without regard to 
 church affiliation. He was exceedingly active and 
 zealous in his work, and during his pastorate St. 
 
8^ Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Joseph's Parochial School was opened, St. Joseph's new 
 Catholic cemetery was purchased and dedicated, and 
 St. Francis' Church at Jarratt's, in Sussex County, was 
 built and dedicated. In 1884 he was transferred to 
 Harpers Ferry, carrying with him the love and the 
 prayers of the people, especially of the poor, to whom 
 he was endeared by his many benefactions. 
 
 He was followed by Rev. W. B. Henley, of Rich- 
 mond, who only remained until September, 1885, when 
 he was transferred to Portsmouth, Virginia, and the 
 present incumbent. Rev. J. T. O'Farrell, installed in 
 his place. In the sixteen years of service of Father 
 O'Farrell the congregation has increased manifold, and 
 by his zeal and indomitable energy he has erected a 
 monument to himself in the present beautiful church 
 building, which will testify of his work as long as it 
 shall stand. His people, and all the people, hope that 
 he may be left with them for many years to illustrate 
 in his life the doctrines of the Divine Master in whose 
 footsteps he follows. 
 
 There were three colored churches in Petersburg in 
 185 1. One of these was a Methodist church, the old 
 Union Street Methodist Church as it now stands, and 
 which had been turned over to the colored Methodists 
 after the occupation of the Washington Street Meth- 
 odist Church, Of the two Baptist churches, one was 
 what is known as the Third Baptist Church, now the 
 same building; and the other the Gillfield Baptist 
 Church, which was then a wooden structure, and which, 
 since the war, has been replaced by the present hand- 
 some and commodious edifice. 
 
 The colored congregations, especially that at the Gil- 
 field Church, were large, but a great many slaves wor- 
 shiped in the white churches, where a place was always 
 reserved for them in the gallery. On communion Sun- 
 days the colored members were invited down into the 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 89 
 
 body of the church, and, after the whites, partook of 
 the elements at the same altar. There were some 
 colored preachers of great gift in uncultured eloquence ; 
 one of them, whom I heard at the Gillfield Baptist 
 Church some fifty years ago, still lives and preaches in 
 Richmond, Virginia, the Rev. John Jasper, who has ac- 
 quired some eminence as a disputant of the generally 
 accepted theory of the solar system, and who still pro- 
 claims with dogmatic pertinacity that the "sun do 
 move," not the earth. 
 
 After the tragic events of the Southampton Insur- 
 rection, twenty years before, in August, 1831, the as- 
 sembly of slaves in church, or elsewhere, without the 
 presence of some reputable white man or men, was 
 forbidden by law. Often, or generally, the white man 
 himself was a preacher and in charge of the congrega- 
 tion. Night service was impracticable, as the curfew 
 rang at nine o'clock, and no slave was allowed to leave 
 the premises known as his home without a pass from 
 his owner or employer. 
 
 This vigor of requirement was made necessary, or 
 supposed to be necessary, from the fact that Nat 
 Turner, a fanatical negro preacher in the county of 
 Southampton, had hatched a diabohcal plot, known as 
 the "Insurrection," in his nightly rehgious meetings, 
 whereby he, with some hundred of his deluded follow- 
 ers, was enabled in one day and night to murder in cold 
 blood, without regard to age or sex, but mostly women 
 and children, nearly an hundred whites, before an armed 
 resistance could be organized to repel and capture the 
 insurgents. And though hundreds of slaves rallied to 
 defend their masters and to show their fidelity, yet the 
 possible recurrence of such a tragedy created a wide- 
 spread alarm, and weakened the confidence of the mas- 
 ter in the slave in many instances, and disturbed the 
 kindly relations which had always existed between 
 
90 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 them. The kindness of their relations may be better 
 appreciated when Nat Turner himself refused to mur- 
 der his own master and mistress, "who," he said, "had 
 been too kind to him," and when one of his chief aids 
 made it a point in joining the insurgents, "that he 
 should not be required to murder his own white peo- 
 ple." 
 
 Ignorance, fanaticism, brandy, and the instigation of 
 Northern emissaries evidently moved the misguided 
 blacks more than the love or the desire of their own 
 freedom.* 
 
 There was no Jewish Church in Petersburg in 1851. 
 The congregation of the Rod of Sholem was organized 
 in October, 1858, and worshiped in a building on Syca- 
 more Street. In 1866 it removed to the basement of 
 the Masonic Hall on Tabb Street. The first Hazan, 
 or reader, was Mr. M. Oppenheimer, who served for 
 four years. He was succeeded by Mr. Gross, who 
 served for two years, and resigned, being subsequently 
 recalled, however, and serving several years longer. 
 ]n 1874 the congregation bought the old Baptist 
 Church at the corner of High and Alarket Streets, but 
 not liking the situation, afterwards bought a lot on 
 Union Street and erected the present handsome and 
 convenient synagogue. This church is now under the 
 care of Dr. Tyre, a learned and eloquent German 
 scholar, and numbers amongst its members nearly all 
 of the Israelitish citizens of Petersburg. 
 
 * Those who wish to read a detailed account of this horrible mass- 
 acre, with the accompanying circumstances, and of the capture and 
 execution of the ring-leader, will find it, with much other matter of 
 great historic interest bearing upon the subject t>f slavery, in an ex- 
 haustive and most interesting volume, "The Southampton Insurrec- 
 tion," by William Sydney Drewry, Ph. B., M. A. (University of 
 Virginia), Honorary Scholar in History (Johns Hopkins Uni- 
 versity), IQOO. Washington: The Neale Publishing Company. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 91 
 
 Having noted the pulpit, perhaps I should speak 
 next of the press of Petersburg in 1850. The leading 
 papers, neither dailies, were The Intelligencer, found- 
 ed in 1789 by William Prentiss, and edited by John W. 
 Syme, and Tlie Southsidc Democrat, founded in 1849, 
 and edited by Roger A. Pryor. The former was, and had 
 been for years, the mouthpiece and exponent of the 
 Whig Party, which at that time represented the ma- 
 jority in politics, not only in Petersburg, but generally 
 in the surrounding counties. Mr. Syme was a son of 
 Parson Syme, so long rector of St. Paul's Church, and 
 was a good representative of the dignity, intelligence, 
 and conservatism of the class to which he was born, 
 and whose opinions he boldly and faithfully upheld. 
 He was a spirited, incisive writer, abounding in humor, 
 quick at repartee, and bitter when provoked. He was 
 a most genial, companionable man, fond of good cheer 
 and exceedingly popular with his party. He repre- 
 sented the city in the General Assembly of Virginia 
 for years; and owing to his influence, mostly, the 
 Southside Railroad was incorporated, with its terminus 
 in Petersburg, instead of Richmond. 
 
 Just before the beginning of the Civil War, Mr. 
 Syme removed to Raleigh, North Carolina, and bought 
 and edited the Raleigh Register, I think ; and The Intelli- 
 gencer passed into the hands of Bingham and Moore, 
 but its course was short-lived and it did not survive the 
 war. 
 
 The Southside Democrat was founded in 1849, owned 
 and edited by Roger A. Pryor, now a distinguished 
 jurist of New York City. Pryor was, as was Syme, 
 the son of a clergyman, an eminent divine of the Pres- 
 byterian Church, and was talented, studious, ambitious, 
 bold to contempt of consequences, and a fitting leader 
 of the young Democracy which was springing up in 
 the decadence of the Whig Party, tainted at that time 
 
92 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 with free-soilism and abolition at the North, and ready 
 on that account for dissohition at the South. 
 
 For the first few years of his editorial life Pryor con- 
 fined himself closely to his office, evidently studying 
 the highest standards in his reading, and his editorials 
 were a revelation of strength and purity in classic Eng- 
 lish. It was impossible, however, for a man of his 
 tastes and force not to drift into politics outside of the 
 sanctum of his paper, and the public soon recognized 
 him as one of the ablest and most eloquent speakers 
 upon the hustings and in the bitter dissensions that 
 marked the proceedings of every gathering of the peo- 
 ple in those years. 
 
 In the mutterings and threatenings of the storm 
 that was soon to break in fury upon a hitherto peaceful 
 and peace-loving land, he found abundant opportunity 
 for the cultivation and display of those rare powers of 
 oratory in debate which subsequently forced him to the 
 front of the forum. 
 
 In 1863 he was called to edit the Enquirer, the paper 
 which for years, under the venerable Thomas Ritchie, 
 had been the mouthpiece of the Democratic Party in 
 Virginia, and the ablest exponent of Democratic doc- 
 trine. Whilst filling the office of editor, Pryor was 
 principal in several affairs of honor, as the duel was 
 then called, but he came out of all unhurt. The duello 
 was the fashionable mode of settling differences be- 
 tween gentlemen at that day; and though indefensible 
 from some points of view, was less reprehensible and 
 less barbarous than the present system, which places a 
 revolver in the hip pocket of the aggrieved citizen and 
 bids him open battle upon the street or elsewhere, as 
 much to the danger of the innocent bystander as to his 
 opponent. 
 
 After taking charge of the Enquirer, Pryor did not 
 remain in the editorial chair very long, and from the 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 93 
 
 tripod he stepped to the floor of Congress. Mr. Wm. 
 O. Goode, who had been elected to the House of Rep- 
 resentatives from the Fourth District of Virginia, died 
 before taking his seat, and Pryor was elected to fill his 
 place, his opponent in the canvass being Col. Thomas 
 F. Goode. His career in Congress was short and he 
 had only time to work up his reputation as an im- 
 passioned speaker and a fearless defender of the rights 
 of the States. Before two sessions passed the domi- 
 nant party dissolved the Union, broke the compact 
 of the Constitution, and drove the South into seces- 
 sion. 
 
 He came home with the Virginia delegates, and as 
 private in cavalry, as colonel of infantry, and as bri- 
 gadier-general he drew his trenchant blade in defense 
 of his native State in a cause as hopeless as it was just 
 and righteous. 
 
 After the war, true to his combative and courageous 
 instincts, he sought the fields of the enemy for forage, 
 and though handicapped by poverty and regarded as an 
 alien, and by many as a traitor to the old flag, he forged 
 his way again to the front, and attained the ermine of a 
 judge in a profession crowded with the wisest, the 
 ablest, and the most astute men of the greatest city of 
 the country. 
 
 The Southside Democrat, after Pryor left it, passed 
 into the hands of A. D. Banks in 1863; then Banks and 
 Keiley, then Banks and Thackston. Keiley I will note 
 hereafter. Thackston was editor only a short time be- 
 fore the final collapse of the paper in the events of 
 i86i-'65 ; but Banks was a character who is worthy of 
 recollection. He was fat, genial, jovial, of imperturb- 
 able good humor, even in the exciting scenes and times 
 of the last days of the old regime. He knew everybody 
 and made friends with everybody. He loved play bet- 
 ter than work, and found it difficult to confine himself 
 
94 Scz'ciity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 to the routine drudgery of the editor's office, hence of- 
 ten absented himself therefrom on Httle trips of pleas- 
 ure, and nowhere found so much to entertain and 
 amuse him as in Washington, where he seemed to know 
 intuitively and intimately the leading men of his party. 
 A striking picture of Banks strolling about the Capitol 
 with his arm around the neck of Stephen A. Douglas 
 still remains in my memory. Douglas was at that 
 time a great figure and a dominant character in 
 the political arena ; but no man could resist the 
 genial and artless assurance of Banks. He seemed to 
 know all of the big men, and to enjoy their confidence 
 and their companionship. I perpetrated a little piece 
 of mischief on him once, which his friends enjoyed more 
 than he, I suspect. He was in the habit, when the 
 fever came on him to go to Washington, of sending his 
 exchanges by the printer's devil to my office, with the 
 polite request that I would get out the paper for him 
 until his return, which was always an unknown quantity 
 as to time. I frequently did this with pleasure, and 
 loved, as everybody else did, to oblige him ; but it oc- 
 curred to me on the last occasion of such a request that 
 it would add some piquancy to the paper if I changed 
 its politics, which I did, pitching into the administra- 
 tion with all the mad zeal of a new convert. The next 
 day a telegram, more emphatic than elegant, came to 
 the office from Pryor, then in Congress, inquiring who 
 was "running the Soiithside Democrat.^' Banks followed 
 the telegram at his very early convenience, but he took 
 the joke in good part, and it did not interrupt our 
 kindly relations. 
 
 Poor, kindly, genial, generous, happy fellow, his 
 paper perished in the general immolation of the rights 
 of the vStates. I lost sight of him after I went into the 
 army, in April, 1861, but I heard tliat he lived only a 
 short time, fortunately dying without knowledge of 
 
Pcicrsburg in the Fifties 95 
 
 the bitterness of the defeat of the cause which he had 
 so enthusiastically championed. 
 
 But neither the Petersburg Intelligencer nor the South- 
 side Democrat was published at the commencement of 
 the war or during the war. The only paper which man- 
 aged to live through those tempestuous times was the 
 Petersburg Express. This was the first daily paper ever 
 published in the city, and was founded in 1853 by Mr, 
 Samuel B. Paul, then a resident of Petersburg, but now 
 an eminent lawyer in New York. He sold it after a few 
 months to Crutchfield and Campbell, under whose man- 
 agement it was a s'reat success, financially and other- 
 wise. It was independent in politics, yet boldly an up- 
 holder of the Southern cause ; but on the entrance of 
 the Federal troops into the city it was taken possession 
 of by some Northern soldiers, and for the short time 
 in which they published it it was aggressively and of- 
 fensivel}^ a Yankee sheet. After its restoration to its 
 rightful owners it was thought by some people to lean 
 too much toward the North, and its popularity waned. 
 It was then sold to O. P. Hains and William Campbell. 
 In turn they sold it to T. J. Clark & Co., and they to 
 Smith, Camp & Co., who changed its name to the 
 Courier, and then it was sold to Charles Peebles, and 
 then to E. B. Branch & Co., who christened it the 
 Progress, and then in 1872 to Messrs. Venable, Gregory 
 & Patteson. who rechristened it the Appeal. 
 
 In the meantime, soon after the war, in 1865, the 
 Hon. A. M. Keiley, now Judge of the International 
 Court in Egypt, and Major E. B. Branch, who is yet 
 living, established a paper which they called the News. 
 
 Mr. Keiley had been distinguished as an ultra Union 
 man, even voting against the ordinance of secession, 
 though with a musket on his shoulder as a soldier of 
 the Confederacy, yet so radically had his views been 
 changed by four years of war and the reckless viola- 
 
g6 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 tions of all constitutional obligations by the Washing- 
 ton Government, that he attacked the authorities in 
 power with a vigor and bitterness which soon drew 
 upon himself their indignant interference. He was ar- 
 rested and cast into prison by General Gibbon, then the 
 military commandant of the district, and the News sup- 
 pressed. 
 
 Having been released in a short time by interven- 
 tion of friends and on the promise of better behavior, 
 the name of the Nezvs was changed to the Index. It was 
 then sold to Cameron, Sykes & Co., and then to Cham- 
 berlaine, Sykes & Co., and finally, in 1873, was consoli- 
 dated with the Appeal, and published by a company un- 
 der the name of Index-Appeal. 
 
 Soon after this Mr. R. P. Barham, from manager, 
 became publisher and proprietor. Since that time it has 
 been uninterruptedly published by Mr. Barham, and 
 whilst independent of party, it is essentially Demo- 
 cratic, loyal to the South, conservative in sentiment, 
 and withal one of the most prosperous and best-paying 
 papers in this section of the country. 
 
 There were several other papers published between 
 1850 and i860 in Petersburg — as the Daily Star, by 
 Rev. A. J. Leavenworth ; the Press, by S. B. Paul ; the 
 Constitution, by J. R. Lewellyn, in 1859; the Bulletin, 
 i860, by W. H. lanson; Prices Current, 1858, by T. J. 
 Clark ; but all were short lived except the last. Mr. 
 Clark, who is the veteran of the press in this city, still 
 publishes the latter, a sheet of interest to the mercan- 
 tile community. 
 
 Though there was no lack of educational facilities in 
 Petersburg in 1850, and no lack of interest in the sub- 
 ject, yet, and especially in the matter of public schools, 
 there was no comparison between the opportunity af- 
 forded for getting even a common-school education 
 ihen and at the present time. Tlie system of public 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 97 
 
 schools provided for in the constitution of 1869, ^"^ as 
 carried out in the city, at least, leaves no excuse for any 
 parent to say that his child has had no opportunity for 
 securing an education and a liberal one. The efficient 
 Superintendent of Public vSchools for Petersburg, Dr. 
 Duncan Brown, reports for the year ending June, 1900: 
 Whites — males, 741; females, 822; total, 1,563. Col- 
 ored — males, 682; females, 1,012; total 1,694. With 
 twenty-nine white teachers and twenty-four colored 
 teachers, including two special teachers for stenog- 
 raphy and cooking. 
 
 The present status of the public schools seems a 
 miraculous evolution of the Anderson Seminary, the 
 only institution of the kind a half century ago. David 
 Anderson, a Scotchman by birth, but a citizen of 
 Petersburg, died in 18 19, and after providing in his will 
 for his negro servant Jingo, bequeathed the balance of 
 his estate to the cit}^ the property to be sold and in- 
 vested in bank stock, and the interest or dividends on 
 the same to be "applied to the education of poor chil- 
 dren, in reading, writing, and primary arithmetic." 
 
 A suit was instituted by the executors of the will 
 against the City of Petersburg, but the defendants won 
 the case, and the Common Hall appointed Lewis 
 Mabry, Jabez Smith, and Edward Powell, a committee 
 to mature a plan of instruction. The monitorial, or 
 Lancasterian system, was adopted, and on January ist, 
 1 82 1, the plan was put in execution. During the first 
 ten years of the school "upwards of four hundred chil- 
 dren w^ere educated in whole or in part," and there was 
 a continued and uninterrupted success of the same until 
 the adoption of the present system. 
 
 One of the public schools of the city is still con- 
 ducted in the old Anderson building, which yet stands as 
 a monument to the munificent charity of the generous 
 old Scotchman, who really "inaugurated the cause of 
 7 
 
98 Scventy-Hvc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the education of the poor in Petersburg." In 185 1 this 
 school was in a most flourishing condition, filled to its 
 capacity. The teacher at that time and for many years 
 afterwards was the Rev. J. D. Keiley. He was an Irish- 
 man, educated, it was said, for the church, though at 
 that time he was not a Catholic. He was a man of 
 great learning, always a student, and of many eccen- 
 tricities, but of rare qualifications for the management 
 and instruction of boys. He was an exemplar in this 
 respect, not only as a school teacher, but in the train- 
 ing and rearing of his own sons, of which there were 
 four. One, the Hon. A. M. Keiley, not only attained to 
 distinction early in his career, as a soldier, and as a 
 representative of his city in the General Assembly of 
 Virginia, but was appointed, by the President of the 
 United States, Judge of the International Court at 
 Alexandria, Egypt, a position of great honor and re- 
 sponsibility, and which he has held for nearly twenty 
 years. Another is a distinguished prelate in the Catho- 
 lic Church, and Bishop of Savannah ; and the two 
 others, men of mark and position in Greater New York. 
 Mr. Keiley had a special fondness for the old classics, 
 and as our tastes in that respect were similar, we some- 
 times met and interchanged views on subjects that were 
 of mutual interest. On one occasion, whilst walking 
 out with some young ladies, I met the old gentleman, 
 who accosted me with the Greek aphorism, "they that 
 would be wise must walk with the wise." I did not con- 
 sider it entirely necessary to translate this salutation to 
 my light-hearted companions, but T noted afterwards 
 that the old gentleman never took the same interest in 
 my studies. We were good friends, however, to the last 
 of his long life. After discontinuing teaching he gave 
 himself up, soul and body, to works of charity. I never 
 knew a man who exhibited in his life such utter self-ab- 
 nesration. "What shall we eat and wherewithal shall we 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 99 
 
 be clothed" did not enter into any of his calculations so 
 far as he was personally concerned. Indeed, I fear that 
 he did not have always in his last days that which he 
 should have had to eat, or that which he should have 
 had to wear, to render him comfortable — not than an 
 hundred hands, besides filial ones, were not ready to 
 contribute to his necessities; but he did not seem to 
 recognize the fact that in his body he had any necessi- 
 ties. All that he could get he would spend for others, 
 and as long as his strength enabled him to go, he went 
 daily seeking the poor, the sick, the miserable, in hovel 
 and in jail, carrying such comforts as he could com- 
 mand, and the consolations of that religion which he 
 construed to mean "visiting the widows and orphans in 
 their afifliction and keeping himself unspotted from the 
 world." There is many a one left living yet who could 
 testify to his faithful and unfaltering efforts to help 
 them in trouble, and who will testify when called before 
 the Grand Assize that when they were "hungry or sick 
 or in prison, he came to them and ministered to them." 
 
 No pupils were allowed to enter this public school 
 except on tickets, and no tickets were issued to any 
 child under seven years of age, or whose parents were 
 considered "able to pay for their tuition in some other 
 school." As significant of the estimation in which this 
 school was held about the middle of the last century, 
 we find appointed as trustees and visitors such men as 
 John Bragg, Daniel Lyon, Thomas J. Gholson, G. W. 
 Boiling, Lewis Mabry, Thomas N. Lee, Hugh Nelson, 
 Thomas Branch, Francis Major, Robert Ritchie, 
 D'Arcy Paul, and A. G. McTlwaine. The names of these 
 men will be recognized as representing the highest 
 class of the best citizens of the best days of Petersburg. 
 
 There were some other minor public schools, sup- 
 ported partly from the Literary Fund of the State and 
 partly by city appropriation. 
 
 L.ofC. 
 
lOO Scz'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Of the private schools, there were three for boys. 
 One, the Petersburg Classical Institute, at the present 
 High School Building. This had been incorporated as 
 far back as 1838, with a capital of $9,500, in shares of 
 five hundred dollars each, and had had a long and dis- 
 tinguished career. "Its curriculum embraced, amongst 
 others things, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, Spanish, 
 and Italian," and had had in its corps of instructors 
 some of the most noted educators of the day. such as 
 the Rev. E. D. Saunders, Rev. Mr. Leavenworth, Mons. 
 Armad Preot, and others. Mr. Thomas Davidson was 
 the principal in 1850. After the war Mr. Davidson 
 opened a- large and flourishing female school on Market 
 Street, in the house now owned by the Catholic 
 Church, and occupied by the Sisters of Charity, who 
 conduct a most excellent mixed school for girls and 
 boys, known as St. Joseph's School. 
 
 Besides the Classical Institute, there was a male 
 school at the head of Harrison Street, taught by Mr. 
 Magee at the old Harrison homestead, in the yard of 
 which was the mammoth white oak tree for so many 
 years a landmark of the city, and wdiich fell only a few 
 years ago under the vandalism of business enterprise, 
 Mr. Magee was a faithful and conscientious teacher, 
 and had a good school for many years. 
 
 Another m.ale school was taught by Mr. Charles 
 Campbell, the noted author of the "History of Vir- 
 ginia." This school was located on Halifax Street, just 
 opposite the New Market, on the old Campbell lot, 
 which extended through from Market Street to Halifax. 
 Mr. Campbell was a most scholarly and companionable 
 gentleman, but he was a representative of the old re- 
 gime, in which the rod reigned. He believed in the doc- 
 trine enunciated by Squire Jones in the "Hoosier 
 Schoolmaster," "no lickin', no I'arnin'." Only a few 
 days ago I met with one of his old pupils, who still 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties lOi 
 
 cherishes Hvely recollections of a lively birch switch 
 which adorned the master's desk. Indeed, the rod was 
 the right-hand assistant in every male school of that 
 day, and was recognized even down to the days of Mc- 
 Cabe as a powerful help to the master and a most per- 
 suasive incitement to the pupil. Of late, flogging has 
 been put away from the schools as a rehc of barbarism, 
 and it is now held that it serves to degrade the boy, 
 to break his spirit, and moral suasion has usurped the 
 fasces. Of course it is not politic, if pertinent, to in- 
 quire if the boys of this generation are any better, 
 braver, more high strung, or more studious than were 
 their fathers ; but one cannot fail of recalling the strug- 
 gles, the trials, the courage, the manhood of the latter, 
 and asking if in the heritage they have handed down to 
 their children they have shown the marks of men whose 
 spirit had been whipped out of them at school? 
 
 Another male school was taught in the brick house, 
 now the parsonage, in the rear of the Union Street 
 Methodist Church on Union Street, by Mr. Williams T. 
 Davis. Mr. Davis was a native of Gloucester County, 
 but when I was a student at Randolph-Macon College, 
 then located at Boydton, from the years 1845 to 1848, 
 he was principal of the Preparatory Department. It 
 was there that I first met him, and it was then that I 
 recognized the rugged honesty of character and the 
 unpretentious but unswerving truthfulness of life that 
 made me his friend. From that time until I stood at 
 his bedside, forty-three years afterwards, and closed his 
 eyes, my regard for him was unabated and unbroken. 
 
 In 185 1, after the loss of his first wife, a Miss Beale, 
 a sister of an old friend and comrade of mine in the 
 Senate of Virginia and in the Confederate Army, Gen- 
 eral Beale, he removed to Petersburg and opened the 
 school to which I have referred. He continued to teach 
 this male school until 1856, when he was elected Presi- 
 
I02 Sc'i'cuty--fii'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 dent of the Female College in the house now occupied 
 by Mr. Robert Gilliam at the corner of Sycamore 
 Street and College Avenue. 
 
 This college had been erected and chartered by 
 eighteen prominent gentlemen of the city in 1856 — not 
 one of whom now remains save the author of these 
 memoirs. Amongst these incorporators we find the 
 names of D'Arcy Paul, E. P. Nash, William Lee, 
 Thomas Branch, B. P. Harrison, J. M, Shepherd, John 
 Kerr, and others. How many of them are remembered 
 by the present generation? 
 
 In 1862 Mr. Davis married Miss C. V. Robinson, a 
 friend of mine and a frequent inmate of my house ; and 
 in 1863 became President of the Southern Female Col- 
 lege, which position he held until his lamented death 
 in July, 1888. True to the instincts of his sturdy man- 
 hood, Mr. Davis took his place as one of the defenders 
 of the city when the day of danger came, and with that 
 immortal handful of militia, 150 in all, who met Kautz's 
 Brigade in sight of the city gates, helped to delay the 
 attacking column of that command until reinforcements 
 could be brought up. And not only that, but he had al- 
 ready given three sons to the Confederate service, one 
 dying at Chancellorsville, too ill to do more than cheer 
 on his comrades to that victory which he did not live to 
 see; and another, a participant with Mahone's Brigade 
 in the Crater fight, was wounded in that magnificent 
 but merciless assault, "where none asked and none 
 gave quarter," until thirteen Federal battle flags and 
 Federal regiments went down before one brigade of 
 Confederate bayonets, numbering 800! 
 
 At the death of Mr. Davis his eldest son by his sec- 
 ond marriage, Mr. Arthur Kyle Davis, succeeded to the 
 presidency of the school, and, adding to his father's in- 
 flexible tenacity of purpose the zeal of young blood and 
 young ambition, has built up in a few years a school 
 
 i 
 
Petersburg in the fifties 103 
 
 which to-day has a corps of fourteen members of the 
 faculty and numbers 137 students, representing five 
 States of the Union. 
 
 There were three female schools in Petersburg in 
 1 85 1. One at the corner of Marshall and Jefferson 
 Streets, taught by Miss Simpson, an Enghsh lady who 
 had long lived in Petersburg — a lady of refinement and 
 of culture, who had a good school as long as she con- 
 tinued teaching and who is doubtless gratefully and af- 
 fectionately remembered by some of the mothers and 
 grandmothers of the present generation. Another was 
 located at the corner of Market and Washington 
 Streets, and was taught by the Rev. Mr. Leavenworth, 
 a ripe scholar and a conscientious and painstaking in- 
 structor. The grade of scholarship in his school was 
 always high, and the course thorough, especially in 
 mathematics. Another school at the corner of Adams 
 and Wythe Streets was taught by Mrs. Indiana Pannill. 
 Mrs. Pannill was the daughter of the Hon. R. K. 
 Meade, the representative from this district in Con- 
 gress at that time, and, subsequently, Minister to Bra- 
 zil. She was a woman of great beauty and vivacity, 
 and a great belle, but, rejecting many suitors, she gave 
 her hand to Mr. William Pannill, a young lawyer of 
 fine attainments and of brilliant promise, but of very 
 limited means. They opened a school at Dr. Wor- 
 sham's, in Dinwiddle County, Virginia, immediately af- 
 ter marriage, but in about two years Mr. Pannill un- 
 fortunately died. Mrs. Pannill then returned to the 
 city and opened a school herself, withdrawing entirely 
 from the society which her personal attractions and ac- 
 complishments so well fitted her to adorn. She gave 
 her whole time and life to the honorable profession 
 that she adopted, and for twelve or fifteen years had a 
 most successful career as a teacher. She then married 
 the Rev. Dr. Piatt, to whom we have referred before 
 
104 Scz'ciify-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 in these memoirs, and left Petersburg with him for 
 Louisville, Kentucky, where he had charge of a large 
 and fashionable church. After some years of pas- 
 torate in Louisville, Dr. Piatt was called to San Fran- 
 cisco, California, and then some years later to New 
 York, and finally back to Petersburg, where not long 
 afterwards his wife ended her eventful and useful 
 career amongst the scenes of her youth, and with the 
 renewed love of her friends who had survived with her 
 a quarter of a century of Death's inexorable calls. 
 
 These were the only schools of promise, but my 
 story would be incomplete and unjust if I failed to note 
 a mixed school for boys and girls kept by Mrs. Rich- 
 ard Weeks on Dunlop Street, and afterwards on Wash- 
 ington Street, the house now occupied by Mr. William 
 Weeks, her son. Mrs. Weeks was most popular and 
 beloved as a teacher, and had rare qualifications for 
 \vinning the affection of her little pupils and training 
 them in the rudiments of learning. I am sure that 
 amongst those pupils who may be still living to-day 
 there is not one who would not lovingly testify to her 
 faithfulness as a teacher and a friend. 
 
 The professions of law and medicine were well repre- 
 sented in Petersburg in 1850, as they had been for half 
 a century before. Amongst the lawyers whose brilliant 
 talents and solid learning and distinguished services in 
 the State and in the Union had thrown a halo around 
 the bar, and made an inspiration for the men about to 
 take their places upon the arena where honor and 
 wealth awaited worth and genius, were the names of 
 Boiling Robertson, who afterwards became Governor 
 of Louisiana and U. S. Senator ; and David Robertson, 
 a Scotchman, who must have been a man of great en- 
 ergy and endurance, for it is said that he did not hesi- 
 tate to drive in his old gig in one day between Boyd- 
 ton and Petersburg, a distance of eighty miles. (This 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 105 
 
 Mr. Robertson reported the debates in the State Con- 
 vention in which the Federal Constitution was 
 adopted.) Then there were Winfield Scott, afterwards 
 the Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army; 
 Jack Baker, a great wit, a distinguished advocate, and 
 one of the counsel who defended Aaron Burr in his fa- 
 mous trial for treason in the beginning of nineteenth 
 century — the trial in which Wirt won his unfading 
 laurels ; George Keith Taylor, whose name and whose 
 fame are imperishable ; Benjamin Watkins Leigh, sec- 
 ond to no one as a representative man in those days of 
 giants. Mr. Leigh was United States Senator from 
 1834 to 1838, and he was also a member of the conven- 
 tion which formed the Constitution of Virginia of 1829. 
 In this connection Dr. Atkinson, in the Morstock Pa- 
 pers, says that to Leigh the "State was indebted for 
 the modicum of conservatism retained in the constitu- 
 tion of that day." (To whom is the State indebted for 
 the modicum of conservatism retained in the constitu- 
 tion of 1902? The modicum is too small to measure.) 
 
 Besides the names of the eminent lawyers of the 
 Petersburg bar just recited, were Thomas A. Dunn, an 
 eccentric man, but said to have been a brilliant orator ; 
 and John Allison, also a man of great eccentricity, but 
 of reputation in the profession. Mr. Allison lived on 
 Market Street, in the house now occupied by Mr. Beck- 
 with, I think. He lived to some year in the fifties, and 
 was the only one of the worthies mentioned with whom 
 I had any acquaintance. 
 
 The members of the bar in 1851 were F. H. Archer, 
 Judge John F. May, David May, James Alfred Jones, 
 Thomas S. Gholson, W. L. Watkins, Alexander Don- 
 nan, James M. Donnan, John P. May, R. G. Pegram, 
 Wm. Robertson, Wm. Robertson, Jr., R. R. Collier, 
 Charles F. Collier, A. B. Spooner, Thomas Dunn, 
 James E. Watson, Charles J. Cabaniss, Thomas Wal- 
 
io6 Scvcnty-iivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 lace, R. K. Meade, W. T. Joyiies, Marcus Gaines, and 
 John Lyon. 
 
 Of these only two are living at this date. Col. F, H. 
 Archer and Mr. Charles J. Cabaniss.* The former, old, 
 "full of years and full of honors," still hves in Peters- 
 burg, but has retired from the active practise of his 
 profession. He commanded a company of the Peters- 
 burg V^olunteers in the First Virginia Regiment during 
 the Mexican War, and was the hero of the fight at 
 Rives' Farm, on the 9th of June, 1864, commanding the 
 handful of reserves of old men and boys who withstood 
 for so many hours the assaults of Kautz's Brigade and 
 saved the city from pillage and rapine. On casual ac- 
 quaintance with Colonel Archer no one would imagine 
 what manner of man was hidden under that quiet, 
 gentle and dignified composure which characterized his 
 personality, yet we doubt if he ever felt the emotion of 
 fear. An earnest Christian gentleman, he would not 
 court danger ; but if duty called to any course, he \vould 
 never recognize danger, but simply and unostenta- 
 tiously obey the call, to the death, if need be, without 
 reserve or hesitation. With a cultured and well stored 
 mind, and long association with the best men of three 
 decades, together with a graceful and ready pen, it is a 
 pity that he has not put down on paper reminiscences 
 of his eventful life for the pleasure and for the profit of 
 the generation now watching the soft sunset of his 
 closing career, 
 
 Mr. Cabaniss, the only other survivor, has long since 
 retired from the practice of law, I believe, and is spend- 
 ing his remaining days on his estate in a neighboring 
 county, illustrating, as only the old Virginia gentleman 
 can illustrate, otium cum dignitate, and exhibiting to the 
 novi homines the last living exemplar of the old regime. 
 
 *Both of tlicse gentlemen liave passed away, 1903. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 107 
 
 He is the only man left in his vicinage, I am told, that 
 has successfully resisted the covetous greed of modern 
 commerce essaying to enter his paternal grounds, 
 where neither the sound of axe nor saw has yet been 
 heard in its forests. 
 
 I think I knew personally every member of the bar 
 at the period spoken of, and I can testify that amongst 
 them were men of note and mark who well measured up 
 to the high standard set them by their illustrious 
 predecessors. 
 
 Amongst the lawyers prominent at the bar were the 
 Mays — Judge John F. May and Mr. David May. Judge 
 May was the Nestor of the bar. Indeed, he had retired 
 from practise and must have been quite old, as my 
 father had studied law under him more than thirty 
 years before. He was a man of sterling character, and 
 learned in the law, and commanded both respect and 
 reverence from all classes. His brother, Mr. David 
 May, many years his junior, was also a man of the high- 
 est character personally and professionally. Neither 
 he nor the Judge were eloquent advocates, but 
 counsellors — safe, just, and conscientious. Judge May 
 lived on High Street in the house now owned and occu- 
 pied by Mrs. Spotswood. Mr. David May also lived on 
 High Street in the house now occupied by Mr. R, R. 
 Meacham. 
 
 The most noted lawyers were probably Messrs. 
 Thomas Gholson, William T. Joynes, and James Alfred 
 Jones. Mr. Jones had reputation for great legal re- 
 search, industry, and acumen. He was a bachelor until 
 somewhat late in life, when he removed to Richmond 
 and married a lady of Mobile. He maintained and en- 
 larged his reputation in Richmond, and attained to a 
 large and lucrative practise. 
 
 Mr. Joynes was a great student, both learned and 
 wise; an able counsellor and an eloquent advocate. He 
 
io8 S event y-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 attained to the ermine in middle life and was a member 
 of the Court of Appeals until his death. Though of ex- 
 cellent means and of lucrative practise while at the bar, 
 he cared little for show, and lived on the alley distin- 
 guished as the place of the Police Department, and in 
 the brick house adjoining the present Police Station. 
 Here he dispensed an elegant hospitality to his friends, 
 and those fortunate enough to be enrolled as his guests 
 were sure of a treat of Attic salt — as a seasoning. 
 
 Mr. Gholson was a man of pleasing address, debonair 
 and popular ; an able lawyer and a brilliant and eloquent 
 speaker. He also attained to the ermine and was Judge 
 of the Circuit Court of this district for some years. He 
 lived on Bollingbrook Street at one time in the house 
 next to Wheaden's, or Dr. Robinson's stables, and also 
 dispensed a most generous and elegant hospitality. Not 
 long before the war he purchased the house on Friend 
 Street now occupied by Mr. Dunlop, a more commo- 
 dious and liner residence. But it must not be supposed 
 that his house on Bollingbrook Street had its present 
 surroundings. Lower Bollingbrook Street at that time 
 was the home of the bon-ton of the city. Mr Gholson 
 had only one daughter, a charming young lady, a 
 beauty and a belle, who made his home not only happy 
 to her parents but to her many young friends; and at 
 her entertainments, refined and recherche, you might 
 be confident of meeting the grace and chivalry of Vir- 
 ginia in her palmiest days. Miss Gholson married Mr. 
 Norman Walker, of Riclmiond, and after the war went 
 to England to live, followed soon after by the Judge and 
 his excellent wife.- He declined to take up the thread 
 of the law, tangled and stained and broken by the mis- 
 erable tinkers of legislation gathered under the 
 curse of reconstruction, and left his profession to en- 
 gage in more congenial pursuits. I recall very vividly 
 my first visit to Judge Gholson's mansion. It was in 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 109 
 
 the month of July, 1859, when returning from the Uni- 
 versity of Virginia, in company with Judge Gholson's 
 son John, afterwards the Rev. John Y. Gholson. I 
 stopped over in Petersburg with several others of the 
 University students. Mr. Gholson gave us a dinner, 
 and at that dinner I met a young Mr. Farrar, also a 
 University student, whom, in some way, I had not met 
 before. Mr. Farrar had with him a banjo, an original 
 Virginia musical instrument, not as common then as 
 now, and entertained the company greatly with his 
 wonderful gift of music. Mr. Gholson was also greatly 
 taken with his genius. He went to Farrar after he had 
 ceased playing, and laying his hand upon his shoulder 
 said, "My young friend, I would give a good deal for 
 your talent now, but I am glad that I did not have it at 
 your age," intimating that it would prove a dangerous 
 distraction to a man who sought to engage in sterner 
 pursuits. Farrar kept it up, however, through a mod- 
 erately long life ; was a lawyer of respectability, a 
 County Court Judge, but was finally better known by 
 the soubriquet of "Johnnie Reb," and with his banjo 
 and old Virginia tales and melodies made many a com- 
 pany happy. He was a good man and a genial com- 
 panion, and left many friends when called to his last 
 account. 
 
 Another striking figure at the bar was the Hon. R. 
 K. Meade, though at that time he gave but little at- 
 tention to the law. He had been elected two years be- 
 fore to fill the vacancy in the House of Representa- 
 tives from this Congressional District, left vacant by 
 the death of the Hon. George C. Dromgoole, defeating 
 George W. Boiling, Esq., who ran on the Whig ticket 
 for the same office. Mr. Meade was a man of com- 
 manding presence, dignified, but courteous and access- 
 ible, and a perfect exemplar of the Virginia gentleman. 
 He was therefore a most fitting representative of the 
 
1 10 Sez'cnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 wealthy, cultivated, and aristocratic constituency which 
 sent him to Congress. He was intensely Southern in his 
 feelings, and impetuous and sensitive to any affront, im- 
 plied or expressed, offered to himself or his section. It 
 was not unexpected, therefore, to his friends, when 
 Joshua Giddings, of Ohio, made some offensive refer- 
 ence to the South in a heated debate in the House of 
 Representatives, that Mr. Meade should have arisen 
 and assailed and punished him where he stood. The af- 
 fair was subsequently made the subject of an amusing 
 cartoon, ''Meade choking Giddings," which went the 
 rounds of the comic papers, very much to the disgust of 
 at least the party of the first part. 
 
 Mr. Meade was made Minister to Brazil during Mr. 
 Buchanan's administration, but asked to be recalled, of 
 course, as soon as Mr. Lincoln was elected President. 
 He returned home in the spring of 1861 and was offered 
 a commission as brigadier in the Confederate Army, 
 but he was taken with an acute attack of the gout, and 
 died before he had the opportunity of accepting the 
 honor. 
 
 Mr. Meade had a son in the United States Army, a 
 graduate of distinction of West Point, and a captain 
 of engineers, R. K. Meade, Jr. He was highly esteemed 
 by Gen. Winfield Scott, Commander-in-Chief of the 
 Federal Army, and by Colonel, afterwards Gen. R. E. 
 Lee, of the Confederate forces. Young Meade was 
 probably the only officer who literally fought, and with 
 honor, on both sides in the war between the States. He 
 was with Maj. Robert Anderson in Fort Sumter when 
 his State seceded, and could not get out to offer his 
 resignation to the President ; and when, owing to the 
 duplicity of Mr. Seward and Mr. Lincoln, the Confed- 
 erate Government was compelled to reduce the fort, 
 young Meade took his part gallantly, with the gallant 
 Anderson, in defending his flag. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties iii 
 
 Beauregard, in command of the Southern forces at 
 Charleston, was desirous of saving the garrison of Sum- 
 ter from the mortification of defeat, and proposed not 
 to attack the fort if the Federal Government would 
 promise not to attempt to reinforce or to revictual it ; 
 which promise Mr. Seward gave to Judge Campbell, of 
 Georgia, and then perfidiously broke. After the garri- 
 son surrendered, which they only did after the fort had 
 been knocked to pieces by the Confederate guns, and 
 were sent North, young Meade lost no time in handing 
 in his resignation, and as soon as it was accepted he 
 came South and was commissioned in the Confederate 
 Army. He had just distinguished himself in the fights 
 around Richmond in June, 1862, when he was taken 
 with the Chickahominy fever, and died, with thousands 
 of other gallant young fellows, who had the good for- 
 tune to go down when our sun was in its zenith. I have 
 made this diversion in memory of as brave a gentle- 
 man and as pure a spirit as ever left earth for Heaven. 
 
 The Donnans — Alexander and James M. — were 
 counsellors attending mostly to office practise, had a 
 large clientele, and were noted for their energy, their 
 promptness, and her conscientious devotion to the in- 
 terests of their clients. 
 
 Mr. James Donnan, after the war, was appointed 
 Consul to Glasgow, and on returning to the United 
 States, some eight or ten years afterwards, removed to 
 Richmond. 
 
 Mr. Alexander Donnan Hved for many years after 
 the war, and accumulated a handsome estate, which he 
 left, with the better heritage of a good name, to his 
 family. His widow and children all survive him save 
 one, the first wife of the Hon. Alexander Hamilton. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Wallace belonged to the old guard at 
 the bar — steady, reliable, learned in his profession, and 
 did good work ; but, placed by fortune beyond the 
 
112 Scz'oity-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 necessity of work, like many other men under similar 
 easy circumstances, did not achieve the high results of 
 which he was capable. 
 
 Mr. R. R. Collier was also prominent at that time, 
 both as counsellor and advocate, active, energetic, 
 pressing the interests of a client as he saw them, with 
 a zeal and courage that neither quailed at difficulties nor 
 feared danger. 
 
 Mr. James E. Watson — Dr. Watson in 1850, an ec- 
 lectic physician, an Englishman who had made Peters- 
 burg his home for some years — left medicine and 
 studied law, and in two years, by his earnest and as- 
 sidious devotion to his business, had acquired a repu- 
 tation that made him Commonwealth's Attorney for 
 the city, the first, I think, that was elected by the popu- 
 lar vote. His career was short-lived, and he died in 
 1865, leaving two children, who are still living, with 
 warmest recollection of his filial love and care. 
 
 Mr. A. B. Spooner was an old gentleman of high 
 character and social position, but belonged rather to 
 a generation that was passing away. I had but a limited 
 acquaintance with him. lie lived in the large white 
 house on Adams Street recently occupied by Dr. R. M. 
 Anderson. 
 
 Messrs. Charles F. Collier, J. C. May, John Lyon, 
 R. G. Pegram, W. L. Watkins, and Marcus Gaines 
 were all young men, companions of mine, just setting 
 out for the race of life. With varied fortunes they fol- 
 lowed the road, dropping out one by one, until I am left 
 the last lone contestant for the rich guerdon that am- 
 bition held out at the goal, and which seemed then just 
 within our grasp. What they attained, what I shall 
 hold when the end comes, is beyond mortal ken. It may 
 not be a marble shaft or a cenotaph of stone, but this 
 we know — there shall be a prize to each one that did 
 run the best that he was able. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 113 
 
 Marcus Gaines was made Consul to Tripoli. I never 
 knew his end, but he probably sleeps in the sands of a 
 foreign shore. 
 
 John P. May, brave, peerless, fearless gentleman, fell 
 at the front of the hotly-contested field of Second Man- 
 assas. 
 
 Charles F. Collier, John Lyon, and W. L. Watkins, 
 after surviving the perils of war, await the final assize in 
 old Blandford Cemeterv. 
 
 Though not a lawyer, I was for some reason thrown 
 very much amongst the men of that guild for many 
 years, and in their bright, genial, and cultivated com- 
 pany were passed some of the happiest hours of my 
 life. 
 
 When I came to this city on the first of January, 
 185 1, I found the physicians organized in a body known 
 as the "Petersburg Medical Faculty." This organiza- 
 tion had been formed on the 28th of August, 1846, and 
 proclaimed as its object, "First. The advancement of 
 medical science ; Second. The promotion of the legiti- 
 mate interest of the practitioners of medicine, and the 
 elevation of professional character amongst the people 
 and amongst ourselves ; Third. The establishment of 
 harmony, good feeling, and amity of action amongst all 
 engaged in the honorable practice of our art." 
 
 To the furtherance of these commendable objects, a 
 certain code of laws and regulations were adopted to 
 which every member was expected and required to sub- 
 scribe. A physician failing to connect himself with 
 this association would fail of the benefits of contact and 
 consultation with his fellows. Every physician on com- 
 ing to the city was waited on by the secretary of the 
 faculty and given opportunity to avail himself of these 
 benefits. Dr. S. A. Hinton, then secretary, waited on 
 me and T subscribed to the laws. A meeting of the 
 faculty could lie called at any time by order of the 
 
114 Scfciily-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 president or on request of five members, but the regu- 
 lar meetings were ordered for the first Wednesday in 
 May, and any member failing to attend a regular meet- 
 ing of the faculty, and being unable to give a satisfac- 
 tory excuse, was fined five dollars. 
 
 In 1848 the regular meeting was fixed for the 3d of 
 November, and subsequently changed to the third 
 Wednesday in November, and the fine of five dollars re- 
 duced to one and finally omitted altogether. This law 
 abides to this date. 
 
 The first regular meeting after my connection with 
 the faculty was on the third Wednesday, the 19th of 
 November, 1851. Present: Dr. P. C. Spencer, Presi- 
 dent ; Drs. B. H. May, Tames May, Luke White, J. E. 
 Cox, J. J. Thweatt, J. i3ranch, J. P. Woodson, N. F. 
 Rives, R. L. Madison, John H. Claiborne, C. F. Couch, 
 W. A. Dudley, Andrew Field, and S. A. Hinton — fif- 
 teen; absent: J. F. Peebles, W. F. Jones, A. H. Chris- 
 tian, Thomas Withers, J. W. Whitmore, R. E. Robin- 
 son, J. Mettauer, WilHam Durkin, eight — twenty-three 
 in all, of whom only two have survived the half century. 
 Dr. Dudley* and myself. Besides these, thirty others, 
 with one exception, who have joined the faculty since 
 that time have passed away, indicating a mortality diffi- 
 cult to account for. 
 
 Not all of these gentlemen died in Petersburg. Some 
 who joined the faculty while refugeeing here during the 
 war, and some who, broken up at their homes in other 
 portions of the State, gravitated here soon after the 
 war, moved away to different sections of the country ; 
 but the news of their deaths which reached us seemed 
 authentic in every instance. I know of only one of 
 these physicians — the exception noted above — who is 
 yet living, Dr. Robert Page, of Berryville, Virginia. He 
 
 *Dr. Dudley has since died, 1903. 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 115 
 
 was a surgeon in the army, stationed here during the 
 last two years of the war, and an able and efficient of- 
 ficer. He married Miss Patty Hardee, a beauty and a 
 belle, and a daughter of one of the gallant defenders of 
 the city who was killed in the ever memorable militia 
 fight of the 9th of June, 1864. Dr. Page remained in 
 Petersburg for one or two years after the war, and then 
 returned to his former home in Berryville, where he is 
 still engaged in active and successful practise. 
 
 By order and regulation, the first annual meeting of 
 the faculty was held at the house of the senior member, 
 and each subsequent annual meeting at the house of 
 the next senior, in rotation ; and it was an unwritten 
 law that the member at whose house the meeting was 
 held should give a supper, and these annual suppers 
 were veritable symposia, where rich viands and gener- 
 ous wines conspired to create and cement good fellow- 
 ship, and to preserve an honorable esprit de corps. 
 
 With relaxed strain upon the sober and arduous du- 
 ties of a doctors daily life, and with story and song and 
 jest, old scores were forgotten, old sores were healed, 
 old friendships sealed, and we parted, as the night 
 waned, none the worse for a little revelry that came but 
 once a year. Oh ! the memories of those evenings come 
 as soft and balmy as the gentle south winds, which 
 sweep the quiet resting places of the brave and noble 
 gentlemen "who made the banquet so fine." 
 
 Changed times, changed circumstances, changed as- 
 sociations, and changed men came with the new regime. 
 The new faculty of Petersburg preserves its organiza- 
 tions, its municipal and mandatory rules remain in let- 
 ter, but one who knew it half a century ago misses the 
 pervasive spirit of liberality and brotherhood which 
 filled it then. 
 
 The new times early infected the professional rela- 
 tions, consultations between members of the faculty be- 
 
ii6 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 came less frequent and less confidential ; the unwritten 
 law, requiring of the president an acknowledgment of 
 the honor conferred upon him, by giving a hospitable 
 reception, was ignored or broken, and finally it was re- 
 solved that every man must pay for his own supper if 
 that element of the annual gathering was considered 
 essential to the good and perpetuity of the association ; 
 and at the regular meeting on the 15th of November, 
 1871, on motion of Dr. Lassiter, a resolution was 
 adopted that "henceforth the refreshments at the an- 
 nual supper should be furnished by the faculty," the 
 secretary collecting from each member his quota of the 
 cost. Drs. Leigh and Steel were appointed by the presi- 
 dent as supper committee for one year. A new com- 
 mittee was appointed annually, and the honor of service 
 thereon made an object of generous rivalry. 
 
 But we must note something of the ma.erial of the 
 body politic of the Medical Society of Petersburg at 
 the time when we were inducted into its honorable 
 membership. 
 
 The profession of medicine, like the profession of law 
 in Petersburg, had in the past history of the city men 
 of the highest mark; men whose deeds might serve to 
 awaken in their successors a noble ambition to be 
 worthy of their sires. 
 
 The names of Dr. John Shore, Dr. Richard Field, Dr. 
 John Strachan, Dr. James Gilliam, Dr. Thomas Robin- 
 son, and Dr. Richard Batte, all of whom had passed 
 away before I joined the faculty, had left each the savor 
 of a good name, and each a reputation whose glamour 
 lighted the lives of the after men who then received me 
 in their honored ranks. Few people now living know 
 anything of these worthies, personally, and we find few 
 records beyond tradition of their lives given so gener- 
 ously and often gratuitously to the good of their fellow- 
 men. 
 
Petersburg in' the Fifties ii/' 
 
 Dr. James Gilliam was the owner of "Violet Bank," 
 and planned the beautiful grounds and buildings which 
 made it for years the most desirable suburban resi- 
 dence in Virginia. I had it from the lips of a Northern 
 gentleman who visited the place some fifteen years 
 ago, and who had traveled extensively abroad, that in 
 some respects it was the prettiest place he ever saw. 
 Dr. Gilliam must have been a man of great good taste. 
 Some years ago I incidentally saw a copy of his will, 
 and one provision of the document struck me very 
 forcibly — a clause directing that no man unable to pay 
 his bill should be annoyed by the executor, that the es- 
 tate should lose it. This indicated the humanitarian 
 spirit of the doctors of the olden time. 
 
 Dr. Thomas Robinson left perhaps the largest repu- 
 tation of any of the old worthies of that day. He was 
 an Irish patriot who was compelled to flee his country 
 for political reasons, and who came to Petersburg 
 about the beginning of the last century. He was a 
 graduate of Dublin College, and a man of great learn- 
 ing and versatile talents, and like most Irish gentlemen, 
 a genial and companionable person. He taught school 
 for a few years after coming to this country, in Amelia 
 County, and then determined to study medicine, going 
 to Philadelphia and taking his degree. After return- 
 ing he married a Miss Murray, of Ameha, and located 
 in Petersburg. He attained, as before remarked, to the 
 highest place in his profession, and left a record for skill 
 and success in practise not excelled by any of his com- 
 peers. He was also noted for his open-hearted gener- 
 osity and his kindness to the poor. It is reported of him 
 on one occasion that, being without any money at the 
 time, he borrowed from his wife the only few dollars 
 she had, and spent it in furnishing supplies and medi- 
 cine to a poor family, whilst for some days his own 
 family were compelled to forego the luxuries to which 
 
1 1 8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 they were accustomed. His practise partook of the 
 heroic. I have heard some of his oldest patients say 
 that his invariable directions were that before being 
 sent for, the sick person, if an adult, should be given 
 eight grains of calomel and four grains of Dover's pow- 
 ders. He would then pay his visit, without haste, and 
 take charge, allowing no further self medication or do- 
 mestic prescribing. He believed in and pursued the 
 anti-phlogistic treatment in full, and as the diseases of 
 that day all partook more or less of the sthenic type, 
 and his clientele were a full-blooded, vigorous people, 
 he had remarkable success. One especial peculiarity of 
 his practise was the freedom with which he exhibited 
 mercury. He tested to the last degree its alterative and 
 antiseptic effects. Ptyalism, a sore mouth, he looked 
 for daily in the patient, and was rarely satisfied until he 
 saw it. He regarded that as an indication of the sur- 
 render of the enemy, which, forsooth, he fought with 
 most phenomenal and fortuitous results, and he left 
 the impress of this therapy both upon the laity and 
 profession of his day, to an extent that thirty years or 
 more only served to moderate. To the majority of the 
 medical men of this vicinage to within a comparatively 
 recent period, mercury was known, if not regarded, as 
 the "Samson" of the materia medica. Had he known at 
 that day of the theory of the microbic origin of all dis- 
 eases, he would have been strengthened even in his 
 faith in the great phagocyte, if such a thing were pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Of the doctors living and in practise when I joined 
 the faculty — and a most able and honorable body of 
 men they were, as a rule — I can speak particularly of 
 those with whom I came mostly in contact. One of 
 them was Dr. John F. Peebles. He was then about 
 thirty-four years old, handsome, accomplished, debon- 
 air, popular — especially amongst the ladies — a student, 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 119 
 
 and advanced in his ideas of medicine beyond the rou- 
 tine practise of the day. He died at the early age of 
 thirty-nine, but two years before his death he pub- 
 lished two essays, one on Intermittent Fever and the 
 other on Prolapsus Uteri, both of which took the prize 
 for which he competed, and attracted marked atten- 
 tion in the profession. With the exception of Dr. R. 
 L. Madison, to whom I refer elsewhere, he was my most 
 intimate friend amongst the faculty, and I felt his loss 
 very keenly. He was gentle and tender-hearted, and, 
 as such men always are, was cheerful and courageous. 
 When dying, a friend standing by said to him, "Doctor, 
 are you going to sleep?" "Yes," he replied, smiling, 
 "my left lung is filling fast; the right will soon follow. 
 I am going to sleep and I shall awaken no more." In a 
 little while sleep had come, and as he was the first of 
 my friends and compeers to die, the scene impressed 
 me with a vividness that yet remains, and which time 
 and change and many experiences of many years with 
 death, at the bedside or on the battlefield, have never 
 dimmed. His patients loved Dr. Peebles with a love 
 that such a man would naturally inspire, and after his 
 death erected in the old Blandford Cemetery a granite 
 shaft to his memory, with the simple but touching in- 
 scription, "I was sick, and ye visited me." 
 
 Another member of the faculty with whom I was 
 mostly thrown was Dr. J. J. Thweatt, a man personally 
 the opposite of Dr. Peebles ; maimed by gout and by the 
 accident of a badly-broken leg, he was awkward in his 
 gait, uncouth — sometimes to rudeness — in manner, and 
 would impress a stranger unfavorably. He, though 
 born in the vicinage of the city, had lived abroad many 
 years engaged in the study of physic in the schools and 
 hospitals of Europe, and was a master in his profession, 
 both as a physician and surgeon. It was owing to this 
 fact, probably, in his long absence from home and home 
 
120 Scvcnty-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 people, that he was so seemingly indifferent to the most 
 of those with whom he came in contact. But his pro- 
 fessional brethren early recognized his worth, and he 
 was more sought in consultation than any other mem- 
 ber of the faculty. He possessed the rare qualification 
 for a doctor — a combination of scientific knowledge and 
 practical common sense; and though seemingly indif- 
 ferent, apparently to coldness, he loved his profession, 
 especially the humanity of it, and never considered him- 
 self in the service of his fellows. Indeed, he lost his 
 life in waiting on a poor worthless waif who had noth- 
 ing to compensate him for his attention, and no claim 
 upon the doctor, except that he was sick and in pain 
 and peril. It was my fortune for many years before Dr. 
 Thweatt's death to be his partner and share his office, 
 and to enter perhaps more fully than any other man into 
 his confidence, and to know more of his inner life, and 
 I am glad to have an opportunity of recording here 
 that I never knew a better physician, a truer friend, or 
 a more warm-hearted and honorable gentleman. 
 
 Another of the old physicians who received me in the 
 faculty, and to whom I was often indebted for kind- 
 nesses which I had no right to expect, was Dr. Luke 
 White. Dr. White was a native of New Hampshire, 
 but came South in early Hfe to Portsmouth, Virginia, 
 first, I believe, but commenced the practise of medicine 
 in Petersburg in the young years of the last century. He 
 died a short time before the commencement of the war 
 between the States — died, after he had passed his three 
 score and ten, of a rapidly-maturing attack of pulmon- 
 ary phthisis, the oldest person whom I have ever known 
 to die of that disease. He was an excellent physician, 
 thoroughly trained in every branch of medicine, but 
 especially adept in the art of obstetrics. I cannot recall 
 any physician whom I thought more skilful in that par- 
 ticular department of practise. As a man he was gentle, 
 
Petersburg in the Pi f tics 12 i 
 
 unassuming, modest as a woman, charitable in word 
 and in deed. "Speaking no evil, and thinking no evil" 
 of anybody. He was a model of the true man in all of 
 his measurements. 
 
 Another man of note amongst the faculty of Peters- 
 burg in 1850 was Dr. P. C. Spencer. Dr. Spencer was 
 an old bachelor on the shady side of the marrying line, 
 but he was a great beau, gallant, and assiduous in his 
 attentions to ladies, especially young ladies. He often 
 said to me that he should "be married in ninety days," 
 and when I would ask "who was the happy recipient of 
 his favor," he would bravely answer that he "had not 
 quite made up his mind as to the especial young lady." 
 Poor fellow ! He died in 1859 o^ i860, well advanced in 
 years, indeed an old man, but he never realized his 
 bright anticipations — he died a bachelor. In speaking 
 of his professional character I would say that he was a 
 born surgeon. It is true there was no such thing as a 
 specialist in his day. Doctors had not then divided the 
 body amongst themselves, and taken, one the arm, and 
 one the leg, and one the eye, and one the ears, and one 
 the mouth, and one the stomach, etc. They had studied 
 the anatomy of the whole body, the position of organs 
 in place, and their relations, local and physiological; 
 and they had studied medicine in every branch of it, 
 and they were capable of practising every branch of it. 
 But some physician would occasionally show himself 
 more adept in one branch than another, or he would 
 show more fondness for one branch than another, and 
 so far, and thus far only, he was a specialist. After this 
 manner was Dr. Spencer a surgeon. He had especially 
 good opportunity for the study of surgery for several 
 years under Dupuytren in Paris, and he availed himself 
 of the opportunity. But he cared more for the art than 
 the science of surgery. He was bold to recklessness in 
 his operations, but his success was marvelous. At the 
 
122 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 time of his death he had operated for stone in the blad- 
 der as often as any man in this country, except per- 
 haps Dudley, of Kentucky, and with as good results. He 
 did not trouble himself apparently about the anatomy 
 of the parts on which he was to use the knife, and occa- 
 sionally severed a blood vessel, which gave no little an- 
 noyance to his assistant. For instance, in operating for 
 stone he always used Dupuytren's doubled, concealed 
 lithotome, and made a light matter of dividing the pubic 
 artery. But his success, as I have remarked, was phe- 
 nomenal. This was attributable to three things: ist, 
 the great care with which he prepared his patients for 
 an operation ; 2d, to a freedom in the use of soap and 
 water, rendering both himself and his patients as 
 nearly aseptic as possible; and, 3d, to his care and 
 watchfulness of his patients after an operation. He also 
 used in his operations a solution of creosote in alcohol, 
 a most excellent antiseptic, though such a term was not 
 in use at that time, and the doctor had never heard of 
 microbes, and believed in pus — "laudable pus." The 
 use of the antiseptic at that day must have been in- 
 stinctive, or one of those curious coincidences often 
 seen in the practise of physic, where the experienced 
 use of a remedy was eventually sustained by scientific 
 knowledge. A case often seen in other departments of 
 life, where art precedes science. 
 
 Amongst the older and noted members of the fac- 
 ulty at the time were the two Mays — Drs. Ben. and 
 James May. The former of these gentlemen was blind 
 — had been blind almost from the commencement of his 
 practise, soon after his graduation, some forty years 
 before. But by force of intellect, shrewd, hard sense, 
 courage and will, he had forged his way to the front 
 amongst men who were no pigmies, and he stood easily 
 ■umcs inter pares. As is often the case amongst the blind, 
 nature seemed to have supplemented his loss of sight 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 123 
 
 by rendering his other senses so acute that he really 
 did not appear to need any vision. He had a good prac- 
 tise and was much sought in consultation. He was the 
 only doctor in the city at that time who practised in a 
 buggy or gig. Physicians at that time rode on horse- 
 back or did their practise on foot. 
 
 Dr. James May, his brother and partner in practise, 
 was a younger man, though not young. He was plain of 
 dress, plain of speech, careless of his person to a fault, 
 but professionally shrewd of diagnosis, hard of sense, 
 accurate of judgment, conservative in conduct, and 
 skilful in treatment of a case. I was indebted to him 
 for much personal kindness and for much professional 
 help. An incident in the life of the Doctor is so strik- 
 ing, and so illustrative of the customs and ways of a 
 certain class of the country people of that day, that I 
 am constrained to record it. It was not unusual when 
 the doctor called, after a patient was convalescent and 
 needed no further attention, for the master of the 
 family to bring out a roll of bank notes, or more com- 
 monly a bag of specie, Spanish or American silver dol- 
 lars, and, opening the mouth, dump it down on the 
 table and say, "Doctor, pay yourself," and modestly and 
 trustingly look away for a minute. On the occasion to 
 which I refer, we had been attending a negro slave, 
 very valuable, worth perhaps twelve or fifteen hundred 
 dollars, and as he was suf^ciently well to require no 
 further medical service, the Doctor announced the fact 
 to his master, a plain old country farmer, who only 
 owned a few slaves. The old man, as the Doctor antici- 
 pated, brought out his bag of specie, and placing it on 
 the table spread the mouth open wide, with the usual 
 remark, "Doctors, pay yourselves." The Doctor had 
 a remarkably large hand, and as he went for the "pay," 
 it really looked much larger than usual. The old man 
 noticed it, and his confidence failed him, and just as the 
 
1^4 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Doctor was about to "pay himself," he touched him on 
 the shoulder and said, "Doctor, before you put your 
 hand in that bag, remember there is a God in Heaven 
 looking at you." The arrest was so sudden and unex- 
 pected that the Doctor's face was a study, but it did not 
 stop him entirely, and he helped himself. After get- 
 ting away, however, he asked me if I heard what "that 
 old devil said to him," adding, "he scared me so that I 
 did not get half my pay," and he often recalled the inci- 
 dent afterwards, and enjoyed the recital of it, but he did 
 not enjoy it at the time. 
 
 Two other representative men of the faculty at that 
 time were Drs. Walter Jones and Joseph Cox. They 
 had each been residents and practitioners of physic in 
 Petersburg for many years. Dr. Jones had an office and 
 residence at the corner of Union and West Tabb 
 Streets, the location of the present Post Office Build- 
 ing. He sold this property to the United States Gov- 
 ernment for a handsome sum, and shortly afterwards, 
 kaving inherited a fine estate in Gloucester county, re- 
 moved there. He was a man of great eccentricity, but 
 always had a large practise, and w^as a good physician 
 and a genial, generous gentleman. 
 
 Dr. Cox bore the reputation of being an excellent 
 physician, and had a good practise, especially in the 
 county of Chesterfield, of which he was a native. But 
 he was fond of excitement, drifted into politics, repre- 
 sented the city in the State Legislature, and paid not 
 much attention to his profession for several years be- 
 fore his death, which was tragic and untimely. On the 
 17th and i8th of January, 1857, occurred the worst 
 storm of snow and the most intense cold that had ever 
 been known in this section. For several days trade and 
 travel were almost entirely suspended in the city and 
 the surrounding country. In the most intense fury of 
 the storm, Dr. Cox, taking a young friend with him, 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 125 
 
 Mr. Traylor, in a spirit of daring and against the pro- 
 test of his friends, undertook to visit, in an open buggy, 
 his brother, Judge Cox, who lived about eighteen or 
 twenty miles from the city. Before reaching his des- 
 tination he was overtaken by night, and frozen to death. 
 '1 he young man with him lost both of his legs from 
 freezing, but survived a few weeks, never, of course, re- 
 covering from the shock. 
 
 Of the other members of the faculty of i85o-'57, 
 who received me, and with whom i was perhaps not so 
 intimately acquainted, i have to record of them that 
 they were gentlemen of probity, of honor, and of re- 
 pute — good physicians and good citizens. My inter- 
 course with all of them was agreeable and kindly, with 
 but one exception, and that was perhaps more my fault 
 than his. 1 would recall, if I could, my part in the ditti- 
 culty which occurred between us. Mutual friends prob- 
 ably were responsible for the trouble, but 1 have no 
 apology to make for myself nor desire to inculpate 
 others. I prefer to suffer the pain of the consciousness 
 of the unnecessary hurt which I did him. Years ago 
 he rendered his account — mine must soon follow. 
 
 One other gentleman besides myself is left whose 
 name is found on the roster of the medical faculty at 
 the annual meeting of November, 185 1 — Dr. W. A. 
 Dudley.* The Doctor at that time was a young man 
 of fine address, fine means and fine associations. He 
 was connected with some of the best and wealthiest 
 people of this section, who were loyal to the relation- 
 ship, and who employed him freely and I think com- 
 pensated him generously. In addition he had the good 
 fortune to draw a prize of $20,000 in a lottery which 
 was kept on Bank Street by Mr. Fred. Anthony. There 
 were two or three lotteries in Petersburg at that time. 
 
 *Since deceased, 1903. 
 
126 Seventy -five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 licensed by the city and State, and prizes were not in- 
 frequently drawn by adventurous investing in chance. 
 1 remember another chance that the Doctor drew, a 
 beautiful Kentucky bride, and I recall one of the most 
 elegant repasts, at the old mansion house on Market 
 Street, which I ever attended. 
 
 Thus I have written of the men of Petersburg — 
 business and professional men — whom I met and knew 
 fifty years ago, and whose lives and characters main- 
 tained the name and reputation of the city as they re- 
 ceived it from their fathers, and whose virtues their 
 sons have illustrated in the courage and fortitude with 
 which they met the convulsive upheaval of a civilization 
 and the destruction of institutions which had meant in 
 the past honor, and peace, and safety; sons who, when 
 surpassed by numbers, and disarmed, and beaten down 
 under the foot of the hireling soldier and the slave, ac- 
 cepted, with a patience and dignity that commanded the 
 admiration even of their foes, the oppression of tyranny 
 and the insolence of office, until malice exhausted itself, 
 and the sentiment of the nation and of the world de- 
 manded that opportunity be given them to rise. 
 
 How they accepted that opportunity, with what vigor 
 and spirit they arose, how they despised the miserable 
 travesty of the government of carpet-baggers and scala- 
 wags, and placed municipal authority again in the hands 
 of honest citizenship, let the present prosperity of the 
 city attest. 
 
 Let her bonds, her 1)anks, her credit, her schools — 
 public and private, her merchants, her foundries, her 
 factories, her busy streets, her railroads, her commerce 
 — extending to the ends of the earth — attest. And to 
 her magnanimity let her colored schools, in numbers 
 and in excellence, surpassed by none in this country; 
 and let the Normal School or College, just outside of 
 
Petersburg in the Fifties 127 
 
 her borders, for colored students, male and female, an 
 institution with appointments and regime unsurpassed 
 by any similar institution anywhere ; and let the beauti- 
 ful Asylum for Colored Insane, just outside of her lim- 
 its, where more than a thousand of this unfortunate 
 class receive the most humane and scientific care and 
 treatment — let all these attest. And to her fealty to the 
 new or Federal Government, and to her proud and pa- 
 triotic spirit, let the fact attest that when the call was 
 made five years ago for troops to uphold the flag and 
 to defend the institutions of the country, two companies 
 responded at once, and hastened to the front. This the 
 present generation can know and can attest ; but it 
 seems difiticult for them to know, and more difficult to 
 appreciate, the fearful ravages of war, and the more 
 fearful humiliation of reconstruction, when might made 
 right a quarter of a century ago. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period. 
 
 Politics in the Past — The Two Parties of the Day — The Alliance 
 of the Whig and Know-Nothing Parties to Fight the Democratic 
 Party— The Wreck of the Whig Party— My First Vote Cast 
 With the Democratic Party — Nominated by the Democratic 
 Party for the House of Delegates — An Unwilling and Unex- 
 pected Launch Upon the Sea of Politics — Everything Goes 
 Democratic — Some Account of Events in the Exciting Sectional 
 Drama Leading to the Outbreak of Hostilities — A Nefarious 
 Mission — The John Brown Raid the First Gun of the Fight — 
 I Decline Re-election, But Am Renominated Against My Wish 
 and Elected — Serve in i8s7-'58 and Again in i859-'6a— An Ac- 
 count of Events and Measures Immediately Preceding the War 
 — My Position Made Clear — Speeches in the Senate and Else- 
 where—The Nominations of the National Conventions — The 
 Secession Convention — The Peace Conference — The Call for 
 Troops From Virginia by the Government, the Last Straw — 
 The Union Men of Virginia — A Visit to Washington and Some 
 Things Heard and Seen — Opinions of Eminent Men North and 
 South — Governor Letcher's Pre ;lamation. 
 
 And now, having recalled the institutions of Peters- 
 burg in 1850, its business, i 's banks, its commerce, its 
 manufactures, and its men, we naturally turn to its poli- 
 tics. In accordance with the people of Virginia at 
 large, so the people of Petersburg loved political ex- 
 citement, and the eloquence and ardor and badinage of 
 the political speakers, candidates, and contestants for 
 office themselves, or representing such nominees of 
 their relative parties. 
 
 The two parties of that day were the Whig and 
 Democratic. All citizens were arrayed under the ban- 
 ner of one or the other. The term Whig had lieen used 
 as far back as 1649, in v^cotland, as distinguishing those 
 who were opposed to the Crown, but in this country 
 just came into use in 1776, designating those who, in 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 129 
 
 contradistinction from Tories, favored the independ- 
 ence of the colonies, then subject to Great Britain. As 
 a party it first came into Hfe in 1828, or rather during 
 the administration of Jackson. The party supporting 
 Jackson for the presidency, against Adams, his oppo- 
 nent, was called the Democratic Republican Party; the 
 party supporting Adams was called the National Re- 
 publican. When, in 1833, Jackson removed the de- 
 posits from the United States Bank, this was considered 
 a violent and tyrannical usurpation of power, and the 
 party which had opposed his election now bitterly de- 
 nounced him, and took upon themselves the name of 
 Whigs, and the Democratic Republicans were called 
 Democrats. To be a Whig meant bitter hostility to 
 Jackson ; to be a Democrat meant to be a vigorous up- 
 holder of Jackson. This feeling was intensified in both 
 parties by the enunciation of President Jackson that "to 
 the victors belong the spoils," that "our enemies must 
 be punished, our friends rewarded." Under this rancor 
 the parties were more bitterly divided than ever, and on 
 the termination of Jackson's administration the Whigs 
 brought out Harrison and Tyler, evidently in view of 
 the availability of the candidates, and without any logi- 
 cal or definite declaration of principles. They elected 
 their candidate, and on the death of Harrison, soon af- 
 ter his inauguration, Mr. Tyler became President. Dis- 
 claiming any obligation to carry out measures not de- 
 fined in the politica.1 programme on which he was 
 elected, he at once went over to the Democratic Party, 
 and though an honest, able, and faithful executor, 
 called down upon himself a storm of wrath and objur- 
 gation that would have crushed a man less fearless and 
 conscientious. 
 
 At the expiration of Tyler's administration, the 
 Whigs rallied again under the leadership of Mr. Clay, 
 one of the ablest statesmen whom the country ever 
 9 
 
130 Sci'eitty-fk'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 produced, and on this occasion adopted and promul- 
 gated a programme "pledging a well-regulated national 
 currency; a tariff for revenue to defray the expenses of 
 the government, discriminating in form of protecting 
 the products of home industry and home labor; sales of 
 the public lands and distribution amongst the States ; 
 single term for the Presidency and reform in execu- 
 tive usurpation." They went before the country on the 
 asseveration of these principles, and Mr. Clay was de- 
 feated. In 1848 they again rallied under the leadership 
 of General Taylor, who had won distinction in the 
 Mexican War, and was deservedly popular with the 
 people, and were successful, again getting possession 
 of the Executive branch of the Government. But they 
 were soon handicapped by dissensions in the ranks. 
 Sectional feeling was becoming more and more intense. 
 It was increased by the introduction in Congress of the 
 Wilmot Proviso preventing the introduction of slavery 
 into the common territories of the country. The South- 
 ern AVhigs gradually failed to co-operate with their 
 Northern brethren, many of them drifted into the 
 Democratic Party (General Jackson, whom they so 
 hated, was now dead), and the Northern Whigs, half- 
 hearted, began to look for other combinations. The 
 Whig Party was virtually disbanded in 18^2, splitting 
 into Northern and Southern wings on the slavery ques- 
 tion; but in the desperate eft'ort to dispute the su- 
 premacy of the Democratic Party, it formed an alli- 
 ance with the American or Know-Nothing Part}^ a 
 party having for its avowed object the restriction of 
 the right of suffrage to foreigners, and the partial 
 political ostracism of Catholics. Tt got as far South as 
 Virginia in i854-'55 — a secret organization with its 
 "grips," pass-word "Sam," and its battle-cry "Put none 
 on guard to-night." two .Americanisms attributing 
 these words to an order of \\'ashington whilst in his 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 131 
 
 sorest peril on the Delaware, but not at all in conform- 
 ity with the counsel of his Farewell Address, in which 
 he warned his countrymen of the danger of secret po- 
 litical societies. 
 
 Whether by accident or by order this fight in the 
 last ditch was made on the soil of Virginia, we do not 
 know; but in the struggle for the ascendency, in the 
 campaign of 1855, Henry A. Wise, leading the Democ- 
 racy as candidate for Governor, a struggle, marked by 
 great excitement and punctuated by great personal bit- 
 terness, the Whig Party met its final defeat, the State 
 going Democratic by 10,000 majority. 
 
 The Whig Party to that date had undoubtedly repre- 
 sented the conservative element of Virginia. It was the 
 party that had always represented the culture and the 
 wealth of the State. It was the party of the cities and 
 of the older and eastern sections of the State, the party 
 of the low grounds on the big rivers, and the party of 
 the owners of the old colonial mansions. It had be- 
 come an old saw that "Whigs knew each other by the 
 instincts of gentlemen." With its wreck, therefore, 
 there went down many of the best, the purest, the 
 strongest, and the most patriotic representatives of a 
 time-honored policy. Some of the younger men, scions 
 of the old Whig families, had commenced to withdraw 
 from the party under the strong presentation of Demo- 
 cratic doctrine, as taught by Wayland in the text-book 
 of Political Economy used in the colleges and schools 
 of that day. The extension of the right of suffrage to 
 the unwashed suffragans, in Virginia, occurring about 
 the same period, made it apparent also to the young 
 man ambitious of office that he would have to court 
 popular favor under the guise of the popular party. The 
 old men left their old lines and old associates slowly 
 and haltingly, and some felt it proper that they should 
 turn back and give a reason to their fellow-citizens for 
 
13-2 Scz'ciify-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the radical change in their opinions and followings. 
 Judge Thomas S. Gholson pnbHshed a pamphlet en- 
 titled ''Why Old Line Whigs Should Attach Them- 
 selves to the Democratic Party," an able and lucid ex- 
 position of the existing conditions in politics, a paper 
 which, strong in itself, bore additional weight from the 
 fact that it emanated from one of the oldest and most 
 honored and trustworthy of the old Whigs. 
 
 The young Whig who came into citizenship at this 
 juncture, say from 1850 to 1855, found a hard problem 
 to solve, a problem more difficult than any he had en- 
 countered in Euclid or in the Calculi, just left behind 
 him at college — the problem of how he should shape 
 his course, true to himself, true to his State, and true to 
 the heritage and traditions of his fathers. It so hap- 
 pened that I was one of those young Virginians. My 
 ancestry all the way down from the American Revolu- 
 tion to the gates of my father's house were Whigs. I 
 had drunk deeply from boyhood of the traditions which 
 had elevated the name of "Whig" as the shibboleth of 
 gentleman and patriot ; and "Democrat," as I received 
 it, was a synonym of Demagogue. 
 
 But as my views became enlarged by study and my 
 vision extended by observation, I became convinced 
 that the true policy of our Government consisted in car- 
 rying out the principles promulgated by Democratic 
 formula — sovereignty of the States, restriction of the 
 power of the President, economic administration of the 
 finances, a tariff for revenue only, no sales or absorp- 
 tion of the public lands for public improvement, a 
 sound currency based upon silver and gold, and banks 
 disconnected with, and independent of, the Govern- 
 ment. I cast my first vote in 1852 or 1853, and voted 
 Avith the Democratic Party, giving pain and surprise to 
 mv friends, followed by greater pain and greater sur- 
 prise in 1855, when I accepted the nomination of the 
 
Politics of the Antc-BcUum Period 133 
 
 Democratic Party for the House of Delegates of the 
 General Assembly of Virginia. I say accepted — I 
 neither courted, expected, nor wished for the nomi- 
 nation. I was not present in the convention which 
 nominated me. I was very young — comparatively 
 a stranger to the great majority of the peo- 
 ple of Petersburg, with no political affiliation and 
 no political aspirations. I was fond of quiet, loved 
 general literature, and had marked out my course as a 
 student and practitioner of the science and the art of 
 medicine, and to that I was devoting my best energies, 
 with good prospect of early and pronounced success. I 
 was flattered by the unanimity and urgency of a call 
 which I could not understand, but the honor of which 
 was unmistakable and well appreciated. It invited me 
 to contend for a position which up to that period had 
 been sought by the highest type of the citizen, and 
 which had been filled only by men representative of 
 that class. I could not afford to ignore it. I saw that 
 it would break in for a time certainly, and perhaps per- 
 manently, upon the plans and purposes of Hfe as I had 
 laid them, but there were duties which a man owed to 
 the State as binding and as imperative as those which 
 he owed to himself. 
 
 These seemed to me the duties of the hour, and, 
 without consultation or conference with any one, I ac- 
 cepted the nomination. It was a sudden transition, as 
 if from the cloister of the student to the stormy 
 harangue of the Hustings. Of course it was an inter- 
 ruption of professional work and a draft upon new re- 
 sources of mind and person, but how great the change 
 of life and pursuit this demanded can only be appre- 
 ciated by those who remember the exciting scenes and 
 who participated in the embittered disputes of the 
 political campaign of 1855. After all, however, it 
 proved but the prelude to a play of greater tragedy 
 
134 Sc7'CiUy-fi:'C Years in Old Virgmia 
 
 which, placed upon the boards five years subsequently, 
 startled the world by the immensity of its ghastly hor- 
 rors — a play in which a million and a half of actors went 
 down in blood. 
 
 I was on the Hustings more or less continuously 
 from the commencement of the campaign in the spring 
 to the final vote in the fall. In companionship with, 
 and sustained by, such men as Henry A. Wise. 
 Roger Pryor, Timothy Rives, and some others, all 
 men of force and unsurpassed for fiery invective, for 
 thrilling eloquence, for immovable logic, my position 
 was not difficult to hold ; and I must confess that as my 
 blood warmed in the combat, I enjoyed the melee. I 
 refused, however, to mingle amongst the people, never 
 asked a vote, never contributed to a "treating fund," 
 nor expended a dollar except for the legitimate pur- 
 pose of hiring and lighting halls or paying the ex- 
 penses of visitinp- speakers, and I thereby incurred the 
 displeasure of some one or two leaders. One of these 
 did not hesitate to say that I was ''an aristocrat — above 
 the people," and bet and voted against me. But I 
 proved the good sense of the people and their apprecia- 
 tion of honest manhood by coming out in the end ahead 
 of my party vote. 
 
 The city went Democratic, the State went Demo- 
 cratic, the United States went Democratic. Buchanan, 
 the Democratic candidate, receiving 174 electoral 
 votes ; Fremont, the Black Republican candidate (they 
 were called Black Republicans at that day), received 
 104; and Fillmore, the American candidate, 8. The 
 National Democratic triumph, however, was short- 
 lived. Defections became more and more common in 
 the Democratic ranks, as one and another, yielding to 
 sectional feeling or sectional demand, went over to 
 the enemy — not the Whig Party, but the Republican. 
 When Congress assembled on the ist of December, 
 
Politics of the Antc-BeUum Period 135 
 
 1855, the Republicans were strong enough to dispute 
 for the ascendency, and after 133 ballots, elected N. P. 
 Banks, of Massachusetts, speaker, and so got control 
 of the House. This was the beginning of the end of 
 both of the old, time-honored, patriotic parties — Whig 
 and Democratic, which, however bitterly they had 
 fought each other for more than thirty years, had 
 fought upon honest differences in the construction of 
 the Constitution, and upon the wisdom or unwisdom of 
 policies dictated ; not by sectional hate, sectional jeal- 
 ousy, nor by a partisanship born of personal avarice and 
 personal fanaticism. Another four years saw both of 
 them swept from the political arena, though the fights 
 in the National House of Representatives seemed con- 
 tests between giants and pigmies. Eloquence, argu- 
 ment, invective was wasted upon ambitious leaders or 
 their gibbering followers ; and before another President 
 took his seat. State after State in the South withdrew 
 from the arena, and recalled their Congressmen, whose 
 voices and whose votes counted as nothing in the coun- 
 cils of a nation which foreshadowed the death of or- 
 ganic law by elevating to its priesthood a citizen who 
 denounced the Constitution as a "League with hell, 
 and a covenant with the Devil." 
 
 But to return to Virginia. The Legislature elected 
 during the stormy canvass of 1855 convened on the ist 
 of December of that year, and in the following January 
 Henry A. Wise was inaugurated Governor. 
 
 Whilst the Know-Nothing Party had met its defeat 
 and its death, the two parties, Whig and Democratic, 
 still maintained to some extent their separate organiza- 
 tion. There was but little occasion to draw the divi- 
 sion of party lines. The Legislature was busied mostly 
 in railroad building and in finance. John B. Floyd, for- 
 merly a Governor of the State and subsequently Secre- 
 tary of War under Buchanan, Chairman of the Commit- 
 
136 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 tee of Roads and Internal Navigation, championed the 
 cause of the railroads. The unwise, extravagant, and 
 destructive policy of net-working the State with roads 
 running parallel with each other, and competing for the 
 patronage of the same sections, and the worse policy of 
 starting a road from the confines of the State, direct- 
 ing it to the sea, and to the cities and ports of the State, 
 and then tapping it at every point where travel or trade 
 could be diverted to communities outside of and inim- 
 ical to the Commonwealth, had just been inaugurated, 
 and \\2iS being developed under what was known as the 
 system of "log-rolling," viz: you support my measure 
 and I will support yours — never mind your oath to 
 make the law for the good of the whole. In 1859 the 
 State had up to that date expended between twenty- 
 nine and thirty millions of dollars in this so-called sys- 
 tem of internal improvements, the State holding three- 
 fifths interest and private individuals two-fifths. The 
 clamor ceased after that session for more money to "de- 
 velop the resources of the State." What proportion of 
 this thirty millions was ever returned to State or citi- 
 zen it would be difiicult to estimate. It would be safe 
 probably to say — to the State nothing, to the citizen 
 less. 
 
 Alien corporations own the railroads, and one of their 
 presidents naively said in a public meeting, "the roads 
 will be run in the interest of the owners" — and the own- 
 ers are not citizens. 
 
 When the General Assembly of i859-'6o convened, 
 a graver problem was presented, viz : How shall the 
 autonomy of the State itself be preserved ? How shall 
 the liberty of the citizen and his property be secured? 
 The right of a citizen of Virginia to carry his property, 
 his slaves, to Massachusetts, as guaranteed by the fugi- 
 tive-slave law, or into the common territory of the 
 United States, as provided for in the Kansas-Nebraska 
 
Politics of the Ante-BeUuni Period 137 
 
 Act, was not denied ; but the liberty and life of the citi- 
 zen who attempted to do so were endangered and as- 
 sailed with riot and bloodshed. Not only so, but emis- 
 saries were sent from Northern States to entice and 
 steal the slave of the Southerner, and to incite them to 
 arms and murder. 
 
 On the 30th of May, 1858, a barque, the Kesiah, from 
 Brandywine, Delaware, tied up at the wharf of Peters- 
 burg on this nefarious mission, and before exciting any 
 suspicion, had gotten away with five runaway slaves. 
 She was followed down the river, however, by a 
 steamer, on which were several policemen and several 
 citizens, and overhauled and searched. The negroes 
 were found stowed away in the hold of the vessel. Her 
 captain, Bayliss, was arrested and brought back to the 
 city and tried on five indictments for kidnapping, found 
 guilty on each, and sentenced to eight years in the peni- 
 tentiary on each, forty years in all, though he was ably 
 defended by two of the most prominent lawyers of the 
 city, Messrs. Jones and May. It was said that he re- 
 mained in the penitentiary until released by the Fed- 
 erals on the capture of Richmond in 1865. This inci- 
 dent not only served to awaken our citizens to a sense 
 of the insecurity of their property, with secret emis- 
 saries plotting crime on their streets, but it also 
 aroused resentment toward a people who, under the 
 guise of friends, could arm and employ such emissaries 
 as robbers and assassins to do their own dirty work. But 
 let us suppose, as many of our people did suppose, that 
 this was but the work of a few fanatics, and that our 
 Northern brethren did not all endorse the injustice and 
 wrong perpetrated upon a people who had done them 
 no evil, and who had a right to claim, and to expect, 
 equal rights and equal protection under the law and the 
 Constitution of the whole country. 
 
138 Sci'ciity-ft:r Years iu Old Jlrginia 
 
 This episode fades into nothing beside another, the 
 tragic scenes of which were enacted a year afterwards, 
 when Virginia was invaded by John Brown. This man 
 had not only been notorious for his lawlessness in par- 
 ticipating in the troubles in Kansas in i857-'58, but as 
 a murderer and assassin had forfeited his hfe to justice, 
 though he had been allowed to go free, even after hav- 
 ing been captured by a detachment of United States 
 troops under Colonel Sumner, sent to suppress his vio- 
 lence. 
 
 Collecting a number of young men in that territory, 
 with several of his sons, he came East, went to Canada 
 in the spring of 1858, and assembled what he called a 
 convention, and formed a constitution. This conven- 
 tion, after appointing a committee with full power to 
 fill all executive, legislative, judicial, and military of- 
 fices named in the constitution adopted, adjourned sine 
 die. Brown then took his party to Ohio and disbanded 
 them, subject to recall, but sent one of the number, 
 Captain John E. Cook, of Connecticut, to Virginia, 
 who, under the guise of a book-agent, teacher, or some- 
 thing of that sort, made himself familiar with the coun- 
 try about Harpers Ferry, the location of the United 
 States armory, and furnished such information to his 
 leader as he thought advisable. In July, 1859, Brown 
 himself, under the assumed name of Isaac Smith, ap- 
 peared in the neighborhood of Harpers Ferry, with 
 two of his sons and a son-in-law, giving out that he was 
 a farmer from New York wishing to rent or purchase 
 lands. Further to conceal his real purposes he rented 
 a small farm some four miles from Harpers Ferry, 
 where he did a little farming, prospecting, etc. In the 
 meantime he kept several of his men at Chambersburg, 
 Pennsylvania, who forwarded arms and ammunition to 
 him at his habitation. On the loth of October he is- 
 sued ''General Order No. i," from "Headquarters War 
 
Politics of the Ante-BeUnm Period 139 
 
 Department, Provisional Army, Harpers Ferry," or- 
 ganizing his command, line and staff; and soon after 
 moved to a school-house near Harpers Ferry, where 
 hundreds of carbines, pikes, pistols, etc., were stored 
 for the purpose of arming the negro slaves when they 
 should rise in insurrection against the whites. On Sun- 
 day night following October i6th. Brown, with fourteen 
 white men and five negroes, all fully armed and all 
 from Northern States, crossed over the Potomac into 
 Virginia, overpowered the watchmen at the Baltimore 
 and Ohio Railroad bridge, and at the United States 
 armory and arsenal, and established himself in a thick- 
 walled brick building at the armory gate. He then sent 
 out Cook, his spy, and Stevens, one of his so-called 
 captains, and six of his men to the residence of Colonel 
 L. W. Washington, whom they captured, and forced 
 him and four of his servants to accompany them ; next 
 they captured on their way back Mr. Alstadt and six 
 of his servants, placing arms in the hands of the latter ; 
 then captured some forty citizens of Harpers Ferry, 
 and confined them all in one room of the brick house 
 which he had selected as his quarters or fort, keeping 
 them, as he said, for hostages. 
 
 The first person slain by the insurgents was a negro 
 porter at the railroad, then Mr. Beckham, the mayor ^ 
 of Harpers Ferry, and then Mr. '^, W. Turner, a prom- ^ 
 inent citizen of Jefiferson County, all unarmed. News 
 of these occurrences spread rapidly and by noon of the 
 17th, volunteer troops from Charles Town, from Shep- 
 herdstown, and Martinsburg, had hurried to the scene ; 
 and Colonel Baylor, taking charge of them, forced the 
 insurgents into the armory enclosure, and surrounded 
 it by a cordon of pickets. Brown then withdrew his 
 men into the gate-house, which he proceeded to loop- 
 hole, and from these openings fired upon all white men 
 who came in sight. By the night of the 17th other 
 
I40 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 companies of volunteer troops arrived from Winches- 
 ter, from Frederick City, and from Maryland, and a 
 company of United States marines, who had been sent 
 by the Secretary of War, accompanied by Lieut. -Col. 
 R. E. Lee, of the Second Cavalry, who happened to be 
 at his home at Arlington on a furlough, and Lieut. J. E. 
 B. Stuart, his aide. Colonel Lee was ordered to take 
 command, recapture the United States property, and 
 restore order. On the morning of the i8th Colonel 
 Lee disposed of the volunteer troops around the 
 grounds so as to prevent escape of the insurgents 
 and sent Lieutenant Stuart, under flag of truce, to the 
 brick house with a summons to Brown to surrender. 
 This summons Brown indignantly refused, and Lee or- 
 dered forward the marines, under Lieutenant Green, 
 with orders to break down the doors with a ladder used 
 as a battering-ram. This quickly ended the contest, 
 and the troops, fearing to fire lest they should injure 
 the citizen hostages, bayoneted the insurgents that re- 
 sisted. Lieutenant Green cutting Brown down with his 
 sword. Brown's fire must have been very inefifective, 
 as only one marine was killed. Ten of the white men, 
 and two of the negroes with Brown, were killed dur- 
 ing the fight. Brown and two white men and two 
 negroes were captured, and turned over, by order of 
 J. B. Floyd, Secretary of War, to the sheriff of Jeffer- 
 son County. Cook escaped, but was afterwards cap- 
 tured and hung. Brown recovered from his wound, 
 and with his accomplices was indicted and tried at the 
 regular fall term of the Circuit Court of the county 
 for treason and murder. His prosecution was conduct- 
 ed by Hon. Andrew Hunter, and he was defended by 
 Hon. D. W. Voorhees, of Indiana, and other counsel 
 of his selection, but, with his accomplices, found guilty, 
 condemned, and executed. The trial lasted nearly a 
 month, and as Brown admitted himself, was fair and 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 141 
 
 impartial. During the trial so many threats of rescue 
 were made by the Northern people, and papers, that 
 several hundred troops were kept under arms at Charles 
 Town, costing the State of Virginia a heavy sum. 
 
 This episode not only created great excitement in 
 Virginia, but aroused the indignation of the whole 
 Southern people against the North. It opened the eyes 
 of the Southern people to the great gulf which separat- 
 ed them from the North, a gulf not wide enough nor 
 deep enough to insure them safety nor to secure them 
 from rapine and murder. 
 
 It was vain to say that these were the acts of a fa- 
 natic and a madman. Unhappily, this was not true, or, 
 if true, there were thousands of madmen and assassins 
 and traitors at his back, proclaiming a higher law than 
 the law of their country, and a law calling for "pikes for 
 the slave-holder, fire for his dwelling, and poison for 
 his water!" 
 
 Instead of receiving sympathy and support from her 
 Northern brethren in capturing and executing with 
 form of law a notorious murderer, who even the semi- 
 civilized settlers of Kansas drove from their State, Vir- 
 ginia was denounced throughout the North, her Gov- 
 ernor threatened with death, and John Brown received 
 the honor of an apotheosis. Let us recall some of the 
 current events and the publications of the day. In 
 many churches of the North services of humiliation and 
 prayer were held on the day of his execution. Minute 
 guns were fired, an immense meeting was held in Fre- 
 mont Temple, Boston, and amongst other bitter 
 speeches, Mr. J. I. A. Griffin declared that "The heinous 
 ofTense of Pilate in crucifying Jesus whitened into vir- 
 tue when compared with that of Governor Wise in his 
 conduct toward John Brown." Church bells were 
 tolled, and similar meetings held in dififerent portions 
 of the North, and resolutions passed in honor of the 
 
142 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 "martyr" ; and Southern people were given to under- 
 stand if they continued to contend for their constitu- 
 tional right to hold slaves, which their fathers had 
 bought from New England or Northern slaveholders, 
 that, in the future, they must expect to be subject to 
 rapine and slaughter. Wendell Philips said in Beech- 
 er's Church in Brooklyn that John Brown had as much 
 right to hang Governor Wise as he had to hang John 
 Brown, and that "On the banks of the Potomac his- 
 tory will visit that river more kindly because John 
 Brown has gilded it with the eternal brightness of his 
 glorious deed, than because the dust of Washington 
 rested upon one side of it." 
 
 These sentiments were endorsed by a great many 
 papers. More than this, it was proven that Brown's 
 purposes were known beforehand to such men as Sew- 
 ard, Sumner, Chase, and others high in authority, who, 
 if they did not approve, took no steps to thwart them. 
 Governor Andrews, of Massachusetts, said that John 
 Brown was right. 
 
 But let us return to the political condition of the 
 country, and especially of Virginia, during these evil 
 times. Recurring to my personal narrative, when my 
 term of service of two year? expired, for which I had 
 been elected to the lower house of the General As- 
 sembly of Virginia, I declined to stand for re-election. 
 But when the convention was called to nominate a can- 
 didate for the upper house, the Senate, for the City of 
 Petersburg and the County of Prince George, which 
 were then in one district, my name was presented to 
 that body by Dr. Harrison, of Prince George, and my 
 nomination urged. This was wholly without ni}' knowl- 
 edge or consent, and as I was present in the conven- 
 tion, I not only declined, but nominated in my place a 
 young friend of mine, Mr. John Y. Gholson, a law- 
 yer of the city, who desired to enter politics, and 
 
Politics of the Aiifc-Belluui Period 143 
 
 who was the worthy son of the disting'uished lawyer 
 before referred to in these pages, Mr. Thomas Ghol- 
 sbn. I not only declined the nomination, but pressed 
 my friend's claims honestly and vigorously. I did not 
 wish to remain on the political arena. I had passed 
 through one stormy and bitter campaign successfully, 
 and I thought I saw before me in the near future 
 events calculated to arouse the passions of men and to 
 separate chief friends ; events of a gravity never weigh- 
 ed before in any recent time, and upon which good 
 men and good citizens would certainly be divided. I 
 was willing for some one else, more fond than I of con- 
 tention, and an abler advocate, to leap to the front, and 
 to hold the standard of the party. But my efforts for 
 my friend, and my persistent declination of the honor 
 of the nomination were drowned in the "No — noes" 
 of the Convention, and it adjourned, and forced me 
 upon the people, an unwilling candidate. However, 
 there was honor in such a call that no man, and es- 
 pecially no young man, could afiford to despise; and 
 both personal pride and a sense of duty as a citizen im- 
 pelled me to accept the situation and to enter upon the 
 canvass. The opposition, as much of it as had been left 
 after the demolition of the Know-Nothing Party, nom- 
 inated Col. Williamson Simmons, of the County of 
 Prince George, a wealthy planter, a man of large con- 
 nections, and of great popularity, an Old Line Whig; 
 but there were only few men willing to rally to what was 
 esteemed a broken standard, and I had an easy victory. 
 This, however, was but a prelude to another play, the 
 calm before the coming storm ; and when the legisla- 
 ture met on the December following, no public man 
 with any sense of the responsibility of his position, or 
 any appreciation of the gravity of the political situa- 
 tion, slept on a bed of roses. The question was not 
 now one of Whig or Democratic doctrine, but of the 
 
144 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 autonomy of the State ; how its sacred rights, guar- 
 anteed by organic law, could be preserved ; whether 
 it were better to withdraw from a Union, the compact 
 under which it had been formed having been ignored 
 or broken by sundry States, or to remain and escape 
 the ills which would follow a severance of our Federal 
 relations. In other words, union or disunion, secession 
 or revolution, were the exciting topics discussed and 
 disturbing the public mind. There were three parties 
 — first, the Unionists, under any circumstances, ready 
 and willing to bear the evils of an unjust and sectional 
 government rather than to rush to other evils which 
 they knew not of; second, Unionists, provided equal 
 rights, equal protection, and State autonomy could be 
 secured by further guarantees of national compact; 
 and third, Secessionists, who, disgusted with the sec- 
 tional animosities displayed by the North, and the nul- 
 lification in some fourteen States of laws passed to pro- 
 tect the citizen and to secure his property, recognized 
 and proposed, as the only remedy, separation from the 
 Union, and the setting up of a new federation amongst 
 the Southern States. But soon party lines were drawn 
 more closely, and men were known either as Unionists 
 or Secessionists. This was most unfortunate. The 
 former were regarded as ready to accept the situation, 
 holding the Union as it was more sacred than the Con- 
 stitution, which was .set aside and trampled under foot 
 by the dominant party, and which guaranteed nothing 
 of safety or of rights to the South ; and three-fifths of 
 the people of Virginia were arrayed upon this side — 
 were Unionists. This was a fatal mistake, as was shown 
 when the day for decision came, when Virginia was 
 called on to say upon which side — North or South — 
 she would stand. With a unanimity of sentiment be- 
 yond any calculation or conception, she arrayed her- 
 self upon the side of the South, though she well knew 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 145 
 
 that her fair fields would be the fighting grounds of the 
 opposing forces, and that desolation awaited her homes 
 and destruction her every interest. But her halting, as 
 we shall see — the misconception of her position as a 
 Union State — gave encouragement to the North to be- 
 lieve that, if not an ally, she would at least prove to be a 
 breakwater to the possible Secession movement which 
 had swept the most of the Southern States. 
 
 And the Secessionist, or at least the Virginia Seces- 
 sionist, was equally misjudged. He was regarded at 
 home as a man ready for an idea — an abstract idea, if 
 you please — that his section was endangered and his 
 people defrauded of their constitutional rights, and de- 
 nied equal protection before the law of the country, 
 ready to plunge the State into revolution and throw a 
 fire-brand into smouldering elements of discontent and 
 destruction. Upon this side I was arrayed, and found 
 myself at variance with my constituency, and de- 
 nounced by some of my warmest friends and strongest 
 supporters. But the position which I took, and which 
 the Secessionists, one with me, assumed, seemed the 
 only safe exit out of the dif^culties which environed the 
 State. It was reasonable and consonant with all expe- 
 rience to say that the time to oppose any difficulty was 
 in its inception, and that a bold, determined front, and a 
 readiness for the fray, was the surest road to safety. 
 Had the people of Virginia shown this unity of pur- 
 pose, instead of division and instead of tampering with 
 compromise, occasion would never have arisen for the 
 exercise of armed resistance. 
 
 On the 1st of January, i860, John Letcher took his 
 seat as Governor of Virginia, a Union Democrat, a 
 strong Union man, and an exponent of the views of 
 probably three-fifths of the people of Virginia, as the 
 term Union man was then understood. How far these 
 views extended, and how suddenly and radically they 
 
 10 
 
146 Scz'ciiiy-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 were revised will be seen in the sequel. But as the 
 Union Governor of Virginia, his election gave counte- 
 nance and encouragement to the people of the North, 
 who believed that Virginia, with her powerful re- 
 sources, her commanding position, and her prestige in 
 the past would prove an able ally in case of trouble 
 with the more southern States. 
 
 On taking his seat, Mr. Letcher sent in a message to 
 the General Assembly directing their attention to the 
 excited condition of the public mind, and suggest- 
 ing the calling of a Convention of the States for the 
 purpose of recommending the adoption of some meth- 
 od for the preservation of the Union, "consistent with 
 honor, patriotism, and duty"; but at the same time 
 urging a "re-organization of the militia of the State, an 
 enlargement of the Virginia IMilitary Institute, and pur- 
 chase of munitions of war." On this recommendation 
 a bill was introduced in the legislature appropriating 
 "$500,000 for the purpose of arming the State." The 
 State had already expended some $200,000 during the 
 autumn of 1859 in the John Brown War, as it was fa- 
 cetiously designated by many people in and out of the 
 State, who failed to recognize the gravity of that seem- 
 ingly insignificant affair ; and Governor Wise had been 
 severely criticized for what they assumed was an un- 
 necessary collection of troops at Charles Town, and 
 their retention, during the trial, and until the execution 
 of the condemned prisoners. To all such persons this 
 "bill for arming the State" seemed still more unneces- 
 sary and uncalled for, and it met with strong and de- 
 termined opposition. As 1 have stated, I was not now 
 in consonance with the majority of my constituents, 
 who doubtless would not endorse my course, but I was 
 thoroughly convinced both of the wisdom and the ur- 
 gency of the objects commended in that bill, and I felt 
 it my duty to press it, and to vote for it ; and that my 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period ici^y 
 
 views at that time may be certainly and accurately un- 
 derstood, I introduce here a part of a speech which I 
 delivered in the Senate on the 19th of January, i860, 
 the bill being before that body on its passage. The 
 reader can judge how nearly my words amounted to 
 prophecy subsequently, and soon, fulfilled : 
 
 Mr. Claiborne said : 
 
 Mr. President, I offer no apology, sir, for urging upon the Sen- 
 ate, at this late hour, the reasons which induce me to think that this 
 bill should receive its prompt attention and its cordial support. 
 I confess that I have been wearied with the delay which has at- 
 tended its progress. I am aware that, amongst so many men, all 
 cannot be expected to entertain the same opinion upon scarcely any 
 point of general legislation; but I had hoped that, upon a subject of 
 so urgent importance, little difference of sentiment would have ap- 
 peared, and that Senators would have been willing to have re- 
 signed, with readiness, any unessential matter of disagreement, and 
 to have adopted with alacrity any feasible plan of compassing the 
 ends proposed by the bill. Upon the main object of the bill, I am 
 unwilling to believe that there is any disagreement. Of the neces- 
 sity for the passage of the bill, so far as it contemplates the de- 
 fense of the State, there cannot be two opinions. It requires no 
 prophet to see and to predict the day of danger. It is not in the 
 future, it is in the present. It is not foreshadowed in portentous 
 but uncertain sign of trouble. It has been inaugurated in the 
 bloody raid made upon our soil, and the tocsin was sounded in the 
 summons of soldiery to assemble upon our borders. If Senators 
 were asleep when these things happened, if they are yet unaware of 
 what has occurred, I must remind them that some of their con- 
 stituents have been awake, and that they are apprised of their 
 danger. The people, sir, without respect of party, burying political 
 differences, have met in primary assemblies throughout this ex- 
 cited Commonwealth and protested against this insult to our sov- 
 ereignty, and demanded of their representatives that this indignity 
 should be resented, and that our defenses for the future should 
 be made secure and impregnable. One-half of the session has passed, 
 and as yet no practical step has been taken to accomplish this ob- 
 ject. * * * 
 
 The present bill has passed the House of Delegates, fresh from 
 the people, with only two dissenting votes ; it has been recom- 
 mitted, it has been reported after days of delay; and now, when on 
 its passage, we are asked to table it, to print it, and to postpone 
 further action on it for the present. And we are rebuked by mem- 
 bers of the Senate, who tell us that we are proceeding in hot haste — 
 ''in indecent haste," says the Senator from Albemarle (Mr. Rives), 
 and cautioned not to crack the lash over Senators' heads, and 
 
T48 S event y-fire Years in Old Virginia 
 
 force them to vote on so distasteful a measure. Sir, I would be 
 one of the last to forget the courtesies of debate which ever char- 
 acterize the proceedings of the Senate of Virginia, but I must tell 
 Senators that if they hear the cracking of a lash, they hear it out- 
 side of this chamber. 
 
 Sir, the people of this State have set aside party prejudices and 
 sectional disputes at home, and they will rebuke the kindling of old 
 fires of discord here. They desire to stand before the world with 
 united front, in unbroken lines ; and they will not be distracted by 
 the quarrels of jealous leaders. I protest, in their name, against 
 the compromising of the speedy passage of this bill with amend- 
 ments not germane to the object of its provisions. It is a bill ap- 
 propriating a certain amount of money for the purchase of arms for 
 the defense of the whole State, and for the establishment of an ar- 
 mory for their manufacture; and the Senator from Marion (Mr. 
 Neeson) wishes to tack on an amendment providing for the erec- 
 tion of a Military Academy in the northwest; and another Senator 
 proposes another amendment insuring a certain distribution of 
 arms on the border. Sir, we do not propose to divide the de- 
 fenses of this State; we will concentrate them where most effec- 
 tive. I am as jealous as any man on this floor of ever permitting 
 one section to defend itself when assailed. We have a common 
 inheritance in the material interests, as well as in the historical 
 glory of Virginia ; and we will share the proud office of protecting 
 the one and perpetuating the other. When our late chivalric Gov- 
 ernor Wise declined the offers of brave men from other States, who 
 stepped forward last October at the invasion of the State, and 
 begged to share our danger, and to shed their blood in defense of 
 our homes, his answer met with a thrilling echo from every true 
 heart in this Commonwealth, "that we could meet our own foes, and 
 guard our own fires !" 
 
 Mr. President, I would that the facts of the late unfortunate foray 
 into our territory justified any reasonable hope that no further de- 
 fenses were necessary. I would that they were less solemn, less 
 momentous than they are. I would that no blood had been shed, 
 that no widowed woman, no orphaned child could look back to the 
 17th of October, 1859, and chronicle a sorrow not nnich to us per- 
 haps, but very near to them; then I could palliate the indifference 
 with which some Senators seem to regard this whole aft"air, and 
 pardon the levity with which they refer to the "Harpers Ferry 
 War." I can applaud the man who, speaking on this subject, al- 
 lows his feelings to find utterance in impassioned declamation, but 
 I have no sympathy, no more than I have for John Brown, with 
 the man who can contemptuously point his finger at the graves of 
 the gallant men who fell in opposing the first abolition invasion of 
 Virginia. 
 
 But not to digress. These recent events have served to show us our 
 exposed and defenceless condition. * * * In a day, in an hour, 
 we were summoned, with limited resources, to repel an enemy on 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 149 
 
 our border, who, had his wisdom been commensurate with his dar- 
 ing, would have proved a terrible foe. With not two score men he 
 seized and held for twenty-four hours the very Gibraltar of the 
 State. And though he has paid the penalty of his crime with his 
 worthless life, yet many of his compeers in villainly adventure still 
 live, and his daring and sworn associates are scattered throughout 
 the northern portion of this land ; if haply some of them are not 
 nearer home, surviving to embalm his martyred memory in their 
 hearts, and to carry in their breasts fiendish purposes of revenge. 
 
 Sir, I am one of those who believe that John Brown is not yet 
 done with. We all remember a very ridiculous letter which was re- 
 ceived by Governor Wise, after the body of the old reprobate had 
 been sent to its own place amongst the howling dervishes of abo- 
 litiondom — a letter stating that he was not dead, but that by the 
 introduction of a silver tube into his larynx before hanging, and a 
 sort of artificial respiration, his life had been saved, and the gal- 
 lows been cheated of its dues. Sir, that letter was absurdly false, 
 but it was prophetically true. It was symbolical of the resurrection, 
 not of the carcass of the vile old murderer, who has nothing in re- 
 serve but a fearful looking for of the second death ; but of the rising 
 of men clothed in his bloody garments, who have caught his mantle, 
 and who wrap with it around them hatred to the South, and who 
 cover with it machinations of treason and revenge. But, sir, it is 
 useless to conceal the fact that we are threatened with an eruption, 
 and with danger m^ore serious than that which such marauding may 
 contemplate. In spite of Union and conservative meetings in the 
 cities of the North, it is impossible to conceal the significant grum- 
 blings of the rural population of that section. 
 
 The dogged stubbornness with which their immediate representa- 
 tives resist the organization of the Congress of the United States is 
 a better exponent of that abolition, agrarian, and socialistic faction 
 in reference to the South. [The House of Representatives spent 
 two months, from December ist, 1859, to February ist, i860, wrang- 
 ling over slavery, secession, etc., the Republicans refusing to permit 
 an organization, until one of their own number, Pennington, of New 
 Jersey, was elected Speaker.] The fiat of power, which is the fiat of 
 doom, has gone forth from that party; the irrepressible conflict has 
 begun, and we must submit gracefully or ungracefully. They are 
 toying with us as the cat toys with its helpless victim before licking 
 up the blood of its vitals. Let us show vacillation now, let us show 
 irresolution, let us show division in our counsels and our fate will 
 be sealed, and sure. Sir, I will not repress this plainness of speech, 
 nor be deterred from urging the arming of the State, lest I be ac- 
 cused of kindling fires of discord, and disunion thereby. I repudiate 
 the implication of being a disunionist, but I cannot shut my eyes 
 to the imminent danger of disunion; and I should be a false sen- 
 tinel upon the watch-tower if I failed to raise the voice of warning 
 in the ears of my people. Disunion is not coming through State 
 legislatures ; it is not coming through the Federal Congress ; it is 
 
150 Scz'cnfy-iire Years in Old Virginia 
 
 not coming through conventions, State or National — it is coming 
 through the people, when it conies. It is coming as the taking of 
 the Bastile came upon the quiet and slumber of Louis XIV ; it is 
 coming as all revolutions come, in a moment, in the twinkling of 
 an eye. It is coming when some bold man for selfish purpose, or 
 smarting under sense of sectional wrong, shall throw a fire-brand 
 suddenly into elements always smouldering here in the South. It 
 is coming when another John Brown comes. It is coming when 
 any one State, having borne the last straw upon its breaking bacic, 
 shall throw off the load, and walk out of this confederation; and it 
 is coming, in all of its horrors, when the General Government shall 
 marshal its forces to coerce such a State into submission. It is 
 coming, I had like to have said, beyond all the powers upon earth 
 or in heaven to prevent, when it is announced that a Black Repub- 
 lican President is elected to the command of the Army and Navy 
 of these United States. 
 
 Whether Senators will hear or whether they will forbear, this 
 event will be precipitated upon them, and it becomes the wise to make 
 ready. Mr. President, I love this Union, I acknowledge fealty to it 
 second to none. I have a right to love it — it is a part of my herit- 
 age. It was bought by men whose blood runs in my own veins, 
 and preserved to me by the sacrifices and suffering of my own 
 fathers. I will never leave it until I am driven from it by the 
 might of the oppressor. I will go with any man as far as he dare 
 go to perpetuate to my children their inalienable and inestimable 
 rights in this great structure of Constitutional freedom. But, sir, 
 when it is to be prostituted into a Temple of Dagon, where, blinded, 
 I am to be brought forth as the sport of my enemies, I pray for 
 unshorn strength that I may put out my arms, and. grasping its 
 pillars, bury friend and foe in one wreck of crumbling ruins. 
 
 I reproduce this speech, or parts of it, not to parade 
 my offices, but to show how clearly some could foresee 
 impending trouble, and how blindly some others fol- 
 lowed the phantom of faith in a faithless and fanatical 
 people. Eliminating from the common stock of tht. 
 people of the Northern States some thousands of good, 
 true, and patriotic men, who loved their whole coun- 
 try, and who stood for years a bulwark and a break- 
 water to stem the tide of abolition folly, and abolition 
 fury, amongst the remaining we could constantly rec- 
 ognize the narrow-minded Puritan of Plymouth Rock, 
 who, fleeing from his old home, sought another and a 
 new one here, for the averred purpose of securing and 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 151 
 
 enjoying for himself freedom of opinion, civil and 
 and religious. For himself truly. But when any other 
 man claimed the same right, with a bigotry born of the 
 Evil One, he immediately denied him such right, and 
 visited upon him persecution and banishment. And 
 when the banished brother grew in favor amongst the 
 heretics to whom he had fled, he was followed with 
 malediction and excommunication. And when the said 
 Puritan had grown into bands, and spread over the 
 whole of his cold and inhospitable section, carrying with 
 him still the leaven of jealousy in despite of anything 
 that was better and happier than his narrow religion 
 allowed, he looked upon the South and hated her for 
 her genial, generous spirit, and the gladness with which 
 she enjoyed her prosperity. Surely one of his chron- 
 iclers has well said, "the Puritan hated and condemned 
 bear-baiting, not because it gave the bear pain, but be- 
 cause it gave the people pleasure." 
 
 But to follow events. The General Assembly of Vir- 
 ginia adjourned sine die at the expiration of ninety 
 days, having done but little so far as providing for the 
 coming storm was concerned, except to invite Col. R. 
 E. Lee, of the U. S. Army, who was on a furlough at 
 Arlington, to come to Richmond and give some advice 
 concerning the organization of the militia. When I 
 saw him for the first time, trim, erect, soldierly, with 
 clean-shaven cheeks and coal-black moustache, I 
 thought him the embodiment of grace and manly 
 beauty. After four years' campaign of hardship and 
 of battle, which he bore and shared with his iron vet- 
 erans, and which sprinkled his locks and beard with 
 gray, and framed that faultless form into sturdier 
 mould, I could not recognize one feature of Col. R. E. 
 Lee. But as General R. E. Lee, if anything in that 
 magnificent presence had ever been lacking, time had 
 filled in the last touches of the picture that proclaimed 
 
152 Scvcnty-Hvc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 him easily the most perfect specimen of man and sol- 
 dier which the world has ever seen. The last time that 
 I ever saw him during the war was just after the un- 
 fortunate affair at Sailor's Creek, when he had just lost 
 some 5,000 of his best troops, captured or slain, and 
 when the dense blue columns of the enemy were press- 
 ing his thin gray hues back — back, ever back, until the 
 end was but too evidently near. Yet he sat upon 
 "Traveler," erect, firmly, the light of battle still in his 
 eye, and a face immobile, in which no soldier could 
 read one thought of the sure disaster which he knew so 
 well was impending. To me he seemed greater in de- 
 feat than I had ever seen him in his greatest victories. 
 
 The beginning of the year i860, the year for the elec- 
 tion of a President and a Vice-President to succeed 
 Buchanan and Breckinridge, found the National House 
 of Representatives engaged in contention over sec- 
 tional issues, the Republicans holding the balance of 
 power. The legislatures of the different States, which 
 assembled at the same time, did little else than discuss 
 slavery, secession, and disunion. 
 
 The Democratic Party of Virginia met in Richmond 
 on the 1 6th of February, and appointed delegates to a 
 National Convention. The Constitutional Union Party 
 of Virginia, embracing the most of the Whigs and all 
 of the Democrats who were opposed to disunion and 
 secession, met in Richmond on the 28th of February 
 and appointed delegates also to a National Conven- 
 tion. The Democratic Party met in National Conven- 
 tion in Charleston, South Carolina, and met their 
 doom, split on the same sectional issues that had divid- 
 ed and destroyed the Whig Party, and after forty years 
 of practical control of the Government from 1828 to 
 i860, went out of business. Instead of nominating 
 candidates, this convention divided into two sections, 
 one to meet in Baltimore on June 23rd, which met and 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 153 
 
 nominated Douglas, of Illinois, and Johnson of 
 Georgia, and declared in favor of leaving slavery in 
 the Territories to the voters of the Territories, or to 
 the Supreme Court. The other wing of the party, call- 
 ed the Southern wing, met in Baltimore on June 28th, 
 and nominated Breckinridge, of Kentucky, and Lane, 
 of Oregon, and declared that neither Congress nor a 
 Territorial legislature had a right to prohibit slavery 
 in a Territory, and that it was the duty of the Federal 
 Government to protect slavery in a Territory when nec- 
 essary. 
 
 The Constitutional Union Party met in Baltimore 
 on May 9th, and nominated John Bell, of Tennessee, 
 and Edward Everett, of Massachusetts, announcing for 
 its platform the "Constitution, the Union, and the en- 
 forcement of the laws." 
 
 The Republican Party met in Convention in Chicago 
 on May i8th, and nominated Abraham Lincoln, of 
 Illinois, and Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, and declared 
 in favor of the prohibition of slavery in the Territories. 
 Bitter political excitement raged during the canvass 
 throughout the country, only intensified after the an- 
 nouncement of the final vote on November 6th, when 
 it was known that Abraham Lincoln had been elected 
 President. He received 180 of the electoral votes from 
 eighteen States, "all north of Mason and Dixon's Hne." 
 Breckinridge received 72, all from the Southern States, 
 even Maryland and Delaware voting for him. Bell and 
 Everett received 39 votes from Virginia, Kentucky, 
 and Tennessee, the border States. Douglas received 
 12 votes from the single State of Missouri. Thus for 
 the first time a sectional President, from a sectional 
 party, was elevated to the Chief Magistracy of the Na- 
 tion, with a sectional Congress to back him, and the 
 Army and Navy at his command. This sounded the 
 knell of the Union. The Southern people felt that they 
 
154 Seventy- five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 were in the hands of their enemies, as was so early 
 and so unhappily seen in the sequel. Some good men 
 argued that the election of a sectional President was no 
 reason why the Union should be dissolved, a fallacy 
 that was made apparent even to the best, and wisest, 
 and most patriotic before six months had elapsed. On 
 the assembly of Congress on the 3rd of December, 
 President Buchanan sent a message to Congress de- 
 nying the right of secession, but doubting the right of 
 Congress to coerce a State into obedience by military 
 force. His Cabinet soon began to desert him. Howell 
 Cobb, of Georgia, Secretary of the Treasury ; Lewis 
 Cass, of Michigan, Secretary of State ; John B. Floyd, 
 of Virginia, Secretary of War ; and Jacob Thompson, 
 of Mississippi, Secretary of the Interior, successively 
 resigned within a month. On the 20th of December 
 South Carolina passed an ordinance of secession ; and 
 on the 30th took possession of the United States arse- 
 nal at Charleston, Major Robert Anderson in the mean- 
 time having transferred the forces of the Federal Gov- 
 ernment from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. And 
 now the work of disintegration proceeded with an earn- 
 estness and rapidity which gave signal to the country 
 that the rupture between the States and the Federal 
 Government was complete. 
 
 From the 20th of December, i860, to the ist of Feb- 
 ruary following, the States of vSouth Carolina, Georgia, 
 Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas, 
 consecutively, had passed ordinances of secession, and 
 seized the forts and arsenals of the United States within 
 their borders. 
 
 But let us return to X'irginia. Governor Letcher, by 
 proclamation, called a convention of the General As- 
 sembly of Virginia in extra session on the 7th of Janu- 
 ary, 1861. The assembly ordered an election on the 
 4th of February proximo of delegates to a convention 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 155 
 
 of the people, that they might determine in their sov- 
 ereign capacity what relations they should sustain to 
 their Southern brethren who had left the Union, and 
 what relation to the Federal Government, of which 
 they were still a constituent part — in other words, 
 whether they should abide by the Union or adopt an 
 ordinance setting up their own sovereignty. This was 
 known as the Secession Convention. It met in Rich- 
 mond on the 13th of February. On the 19th of Feb- 
 ruary the General Assembly, anxious to avoid division, 
 and to avert the calamitous results which would inevit- 
 ably ensue, invited a Peace Conference of all the States 
 to assemble in Washington, and appointed six of the 
 ablest and most conservative citizens as delegates to 
 that conference, viz : ex-President John Tyler, Hons. 
 Wm. C. Rives, John W. Brockenbrough, George W. 
 Sommers, and Jas. A. Seddon. These met in Washing- 
 ton on February 4th, with representatives from seven 
 of the border slave States, and thirteen free States. 
 This body of illustrious, patriotic citizens submitted a 
 plan of reconciliation, which Congress rejected — and 
 adjourned. 
 
 On the 4th of March Lincoln was inaugurated Presi- 
 dent. On the 6th the commissioners of Virginia from 
 the Peace Conference of all the States reported to the 
 Virginia Convention the failure to accomplish any sat- 
 isfactory results. But the Virginia Convention, still 
 anxious to secure peace and to preserve the Union, 
 sent three of its most distinguished members, Messrs. 
 A. H. H. Stuart, William Ballard Preston, and George 
 W. Randolph, to visit Washington, and see President 
 Lincoln, and to ask what course he proposed to pursue 
 in reference to the seceding States. "He handed them 
 a paper setting forth in writing his intentions to coerce 
 the seceding States into obedience to the Federal au- 
 thority." On the 15th of April he issued a call for 
 
ij6 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 "75,000 troops apportioned amongst the States to sup- 
 press combinations against the laws of the United 
 States in the States of South Carohna, Florida, 
 Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas." 
 This call was communicated to Governor Letcher, on 
 the same day, by Simon Cameron, Secretary of War, 
 who also notified him that the quota of troops to be 
 furnished by Virginia was "three regiments, containing 
 2,340 men, to rendezvous at Staunton, Wheeling, and 
 Winchester." To this communication Governor Letcher 
 promptly replied : "I have only to say that the militia 
 of Virginia will not be furnished to the powers at 
 V/ashington for any such use or purpose as they have 
 in view. Your object is to subjugate the Southern 
 States, and a requisition made upon me for such an 
 object — an object in my judgment not within the pur- 
 view of the Constitution or the Act of 1795 — will not 
 be complied with. You have chosen to inaugurate 
 civil war ; and having done so, we will meet it in a spirit 
 as determined as the Administration has exhibited 
 toward the South." 
 
 This call for troops from Virginia to coerce the 
 Southern States fell as a bombshell upon the Union 
 men of the convention, as it doubtless did also upon her 
 Union Governor. The subject of coercion had evi- 
 dently not been considered as one of the sequences of 
 the election of a sectional President. They declared 
 that the election of Mr. Lincoln did not imply any 
 danger of interference with the rights and institutions 
 of the States — an opinion which was fortified by the 
 President's perfidious declaration in his inaugural ad- 
 dress on the 4th of March, that "he had neither the 
 right nor the intention of interfering with slavery in 
 the States." 
 
 Up to the time of this call the people of Virginia, 
 three-fifths of them at least, or those constituting the 
 
Politics of the Ante-BcUum Period 157 
 
 Union Party, had expressed at the polls, in the elec- 
 tion of delegates to the convention, their willingness 
 and determination to abide the issue of a Republican 
 President. This was not the view of the Secessionists, 
 the remaining two-fifths. As the secession leader and 
 exponent of the views of that two-fifths, in the district 
 of the Senate which I represented, after a bitter po- 
 litical campaign, in which a man met upon the hustings 
 foes as implacable as if they had never held his hand 
 in friendship, and where the pistol and the rope were 
 the unconcealed pledges of what awaited the traitor to 
 his country, I felt it my duty to publish an address or 
 manifesto to my constituents, which I introduce here, 
 in my defense and in defense of the gallant minority 
 which stood by me in those perilous times ; and I ask 
 of the reader now to remember that the address was 
 published some six weeks before the inauguration of 
 Mr. Lincoln and his call for troops for coercion. If the 
 Secessionists were not patriots they were pretty good 
 prophets : 
 
 Address (in part) of Hon. John Herbert Claiborne, of 
 Petersburg and Prince George, to his Constituents 
 of the Sixth Senatorial District, January 20th, 1861 : 
 
 I desire, fellow citizens, to say a few plain words to you on the all- 
 engrossing subjects of public attention, and 1 know not how I can 
 more conveniently reach you than through the public press. I have 
 a sincere desire, as I believe it to be my solemn duty, to contribute 
 something toward healing the breach which unfortunately divides 
 many of our best citizens, and to pour mollifying oil, if possible, 
 upon the stormy waters of the present political strife. Divisions 
 amongst a people who are one in interest, one in honor, and who 
 must be one in destiny, are unfortunate, often disastrous, especially 
 at a time of public danger, when unity of thought and sympathy of 
 feeling and concord of action are vitally essential to the preserva- 
 tion of those tilings which men hold sacred and dear. 
 
 We are, fellow-citizens, in the very presence of an enemy — an ene- 
 my uncompromising and implacable, an enemy in the flush of the first 
 victory, an enemy united and resolved to push the results of their 
 triumph to the end of the contest. And instead of uniting our broken 
 
158 
 
 Sc7riil\'-fiz'c Years in Old Virnnia 
 
 forces and making one last stand upon the common ground of our 
 hearths and homes, we are standing apart, distrusting one another, de- 
 bating abstractions, divided as to whether there be any virtue in this 
 mode of resistance, or necessity for that, whilst our watchful foe is 
 deriding our indecision and strengthening himself for the final onset. 
 
 Is it possible that this unfortunate condition of things can longer 
 exist? What are the sources of our differences? What are the 
 grounds of our disagreement? Can they not be adjusted? Come, 
 let us reason together. Let us banish all asperity of feeling, let us 
 examine our hearts and cast out from them all pride of opinion, 
 and all prejudice of party association, and bring ourselves, as men 
 of one blood and one brotherhood, to the noble task of preserving 
 this old Commonwealth in all the prestige of its past renown and in 
 all the glory of its past history. 
 
 Who is the enemy who has endangered our peace and who has 
 summoned us to be ready for war? A political part'y of the slow but 
 progressive growth of forty years has at last obtained possession of 
 the ballot box in this country of elective franchise, and is about to 
 be inaugurated into power. It is consistent with its character, as 
 with the character of all parties, to administer the Government in 
 accordance with the policy it has heretofore exhibited, and the prin- 
 ciples it has heretofore announced. This policy and these princi- 
 ples we consider as subversive of our interests and destructive of 
 our property; our property in that peculiar institution which is a 
 power in the State, and to which the State owes much of its pros- 
 perity and its wealth. But are these dangers which we contemplate 
 real or imaginary? And if real, is the institution worth preserv- 
 ing? Is it worth contending for? Would a quarrel in its behalf 
 be just and righteous? 
 
 "For thrice armed is he who hath his quarrel just. 
 And he but naked, though locked up in steel. 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted." 
 
 If we can agree upon these simple propositions, then we can con- 
 sult and co-operate, and thus keep our domestic institutions secure, 
 preserve our altars untouched, and, maybe, with heaven's help, per- 
 petuate in its purity a Federal Union which has come down to us 
 baptized in the blood of our fathers, and which has been our love 
 and our song at home, and our pride and our shield abroad. Or 
 if this boon be denied us, we can assert our own State sovereignty, 
 dictate the terms of separation from a people who have betrayed us, 
 and, throwing the sword in the balance with the right, proclaim our 
 independence of all earthly power or potentate. But is it the pur- 
 pose of the Black Republican Party to interfere with slavery in 
 the States, or to prevent its extension into the Territories of the 
 common country? 
 
 Let us examine its histor}' — let us consult its oracles. None will 
 dispute but that the negro lias been its one idea for good or for 
 
Politics of the Antc-BcUiiin Period 159 
 
 evil. It was organized upon this idea, it has grown and matured 
 upon its elaboration and development, and now it has enlarged its 
 borders and spread its sable folds, until their sombre shadow is 
 falling upon the fairest heritage of earth, and a sense of impend- 
 ing darkness is making the land to mourn. 
 
 It showed embryonic life at the adoption of the Federal Con- 
 stitution, and manifested its falsehood and duplicity when its found- 
 ers persisted, in spite of the protest of Virginia, upon a continu- 
 ance of the African slave trade, and left it in pious injunction to 
 their sons to deny the right of property in negroes which their 
 fathers had sold to the South. It made its first unlawful seizure 
 upon territory in the days of the Louisiana purchase, when it robbed 
 us of more than half of that acquired from France. It followed up 
 its unhallowed appropriation of the public domain when it admitted 
 California into the Union by a coup d'etat, and forever debarred 
 from the fatness of that new Canaan the very men whose valor had 
 won it, and whose blood had sealed it as the heritage of their pos- 
 terity. And to-day, in the thousands of millions of acres of land 
 toward the setting sun, it has declared that the foot of the slave- 
 holder shall never enter ; and with the help of its emigrant aid so- 
 cieties has supplanted the son of the hardy pioneer, whose father's 
 prowess wrested the soil from the red man, and has given his in- 
 heritance to the scums and outpourings of its redundant prisons and 
 work-houses. 
 
 Nor has it been contented to invade and appropriate the com- 
 mon territory of this country. It has essayed to found a colony in 
 our own State. Not eighteen months ago it opened a depot for 
 arms and munitions of war in a frontier country, and sent an out- 
 lawed banditti to incite insurrection and to proclaim "alarm to the 
 sleep, fire to the dwelling, and poison to the food and water of the 
 slaveholder." And when, under the forms of law, and in the clem- 
 ency of justice, a jury of freemen had found these marauders worthy 
 of the gallows, a howl of indignation went up from the North, and 
 John Brown was voted a crown of martyrdom and the honor of an 
 apotheosis. 
 
 Such, fellow citizens, are some of the unlawful doings of this 
 party. Under pretense of law, a law higher than the Constitution 
 and holier in their eyes than the law of God, they have stolen from 
 us our property, have refused to restore it, have built jails and pen- 
 itentiaries for our incarceration if we pursue it, and have murdered 
 our citizens and their own for endeavoring to secure us. They have 
 shielded criminals and traitors when taking refuge in their midst, 
 and have refused to surrender them to the just requirements of our 
 authorities. Their leaders and founders have proclaimed an irre- 
 pressible conflict begun, and declared that it should not end until 
 the States were all free or all slave, until Charleston and New Or- 
 leans should become legitimate marts of trade or New York and 
 Boston markets for the souls and bodies of men. Their chief 
 mouthpiece and expounder has announced that "all nations have their 
 
i6o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 superstitions, and that the superstition of the American people is 
 the Federal Constitution." In addition he has characterized this 
 instrument of organic law, which we have always considered the 
 palladium of our rights, as "a league with hell and a covenant with 
 the Devil." 
 
 They have not left untouched our social character, but have in- 
 vaded the sanctity of private life. Through the public press and 
 upon the floor of the Congress of the United States, they have held 
 us up to the scorn and contempt of the civilized world, have tra- 
 duced the honor of our men and defamed the virtue of our women, 
 and covered us with every epithet of spite and malignity. 
 
 Such in feeble portray is that party which, on the 4th of March 
 next, will possess itself of the Executive and Legislative, if not of 
 the Judiciary, Departments of the Federal Government. Will it 
 scruple to use its power to the prejudice and hurt of the institution 
 of slavery? What, but this, was the original object of its organiza- 
 tion? What are the results in those States where it has already ac- 
 quired control of the different departments of government? Let his- 
 tory answer. In eleven of them it has boldly nullified the fugitive- 
 slave law and ignored the Constitution. In four of them it has de- 
 nied the right of jails, court-houses, and all public buildings in aid 
 of the master. In seven of them it has provided means of defense 
 for the fugitive, and in three of them declared him absolutely free, 
 whilst the penalties which master and officer incur in endeavoring to 
 carry out the guarantees of the Constitution are onerous and oppres- 
 sive, including fines and imprisonments, in some cases for fifteen 
 years. 
 
 Is it reasonable to suppose that it will not inaugurate an analogous 
 policy when it shall become possessed of the Federal Government? 
 Can any man doubt it? Does the future ever so belie the past? Has 
 it ever given the poor guarantee of a pledge that it will not? Its 
 elected chief preserves a sullen silence, its premier promises no hope 
 of better counsels, whilst its insolent minions in the hall of the Na- 
 tional Congress defiantly reject all propositions of compromise. 
 
 Now, fellow citizens, shall we cravenly submit to the rule of this 
 party? Let a Northern statesman, a true-hearted and consecrated 
 patriot, speak. Said Mr. Fillmore, four years ago, "The South 
 would not and ought not to submit to the election of a sectional 
 candidate for the Presidency." The Republican President-elect, him- 
 self, has declared that this country must be all slave or all free. He 
 will take care that it is not all slave, let us take care that it is not 
 all free. Shall Virginia surrender three hundred millions of dol- 
 lars worth of slave property at his dictum? And our present help- 
 less and attached dependents, our family servants, the servants of 
 our fathers and of our mothers, what of them? Shall we visit upon 
 them the curse that freedom would entail, and cruelly cut them off 
 from our providence and care? In the light of truth and conscience 
 1 cannot surrender these helpless dependents upon my intelligence 
 and my protection to the tender mercies nf a Beecher, a Stowe, or a 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period i6i 
 
 Garrison. No. When the hypocritical abolition preachers of the 
 North shall have filled the mouths of the hungry paupers at their 
 own doors, and clothed their nakedness, we will hear with more 
 patience their sentimental sermons upon the sin of slavery. We 
 will not be put upon the defense of slavery by such subsidized 
 ranters. An institution sanctioned by all the ordinances of divine 
 law, and sustained by constitutions of human enactment, I will do 
 all in my power to perpetuate in my State, and to preserve to my 
 posterity this institution so humanizing to an unfortunate race. As 
 to myself, I can only part with it in the demolition of my house- 
 hold altar and the destruction of my household gods. But, fellow 
 citizens, if our property in slaves cannot be protected, and equal 
 rights be guaranteed to us under Republican rule, what course shall 
 we adopt? Here I think that I hear throughout the length and 
 breadth of this Commonwealth but one reply — the day of settlement 
 has come, and we must have new quarters, and a confirmation of 
 our rights, or a dissolution of partnership. But some may say, let 
 us make resistance to this encroachment upon our rights m the 
 Union. What Union? The Union that was? That has gone. Five 
 States have already severed their connection with the Federal pow- 
 ers and resumed their sovereignty. Five stars have been blotted out 
 from the firmament of the flag, and the marred escutcheon proclaims 
 the glory of the Republic departed. As the pious ^neas, recount- 
 ing the mournful story of Troy, so we record in sadness. Ilium fuit 
 que ingens gloria Dardanidum. 
 
 Virginia, it is true, still keeps her representatives on the floor of 
 Congress, but the withdrawal of their colleagues from the seceding 
 States is daily leaving them in a greater minority, and very soon 
 they, and the few patriotic Northern men who act with them, will 
 be powerless for good in any of the ordinary or extraordinary de- 
 vices of parliamentary strife. Through them you can demand noth- 
 ing of your rights which will be accorded. With a Republican Ex- 
 ecutive and a Republican Congress, they will be little more than au- 
 tomatons for the amusement of the dominant party. Let there be 
 no resistance by arms in the Union. Nothing but immediate miracle 
 could save you from utter overthrow, and only the plea of insanity 
 protect you from the doom of treason. Let me pray you, before 
 you resort to the ultima ratio regnuni, to withdraw your represen- 
 tatives from Washington, fly your own flag over you, and proclaim 
 to the world your independence of all other government, and your 
 equality with the nations of the earth. This can only be done by 
 ordinance of secession, adopted in sovereign convention of the peo- 
 ple, the holders and arbiters of all power in a democratic govern- 
 ment. The General Assembly of Virginia, in extra session, in ful- 
 fillment of your wishes, and in obedience to your instructions, has 
 summoned such convention at your Capitol in Richmond on the 13th 
 of February next. With that convention, subject in its action to 
 the final arbitrament of your ratification or rejection, will rest the 
 inherent power to do or to withhold all that a people may do or 
 11 
 
i62 Sci'CHty-fii'c }'cars in Old Virginia 
 
 withhold in the exercise of the sovereign right of self government. 
 Whether the right of secession from the Federal Government ac- 
 crues to any State or everj' State, composing the present Union, 
 under the inherent rights of the self-governed, supported by the letter 
 and the spirit of the Constitution, I leave you to determine each for 
 himself. I trust, however, you will pardon me for saying that of 
 which none of you are ignorant, that I believe and uphold the doc- 
 trine of States Rights with all my soul and body and strength. In 
 my study of the Constitution and in reading the debates of the con- 
 vention of 1/88, which adopted it. I can make out no other mean- 
 ing. And in the present dangers and developments of consolidation, 
 I see nothing which would lead me to distrust my own judgment or 
 to impeach the wisdom of the fathers. Some of them seemed to 
 have cast a prophetic eye along the vista of years and to have recog- 
 nized in the hazy distance the very troubles which now becloud our 
 political sky. 
 
 But, fellow citizens. I will quarrel with no one on the abstract 
 right of secession. I am willing to leave every man to his own honest 
 convictions, conscious that the true patriot will find a salve for his 
 conscience in the indisputable rights of revolution when necessity 
 bids him draw the sword of a freeman. 
 
 The General Assembly of Virginia has taken other steps, in addi- 
 tion to calling a convention, to bring this matter to your final and 
 sovereign decision. It has appointed a comission of five gentlemen, 
 your fellow citizens, distinguished for their wisdom, their integrity, 
 and their eminent service to the State, to repair to Washington City, 
 holding in their hands a proposition assumed to be the ultimatum of 
 Virginia, which, while it claims nothing that is not justly due, as- 
 serts all that we can hopefully demand. 
 
 An invitation has been extended to all other States to appoint 
 similar commissions to assemble in Washington on the fourth of 
 February next, and to confer with our own, to hear mutual com- 
 plaints, and adjust mutual grievances, and, if possible, to devise 
 some plan of restoring peace and union to this distracted country. 
 If they fail in recommending any plan of adjustment of sectional 
 differences and report all prospect of an honorable compromise at 
 an end, with you will rest the responsibility of saying whether fur- 
 ther effort shall be expended in attempt of solution of the ques- 
 tion in the Union; or whether, out of the Union, you will open 
 other systems of negotiation, and assert before the world that which 
 is your right. The hope and the prayer of the patriot is that the 
 finger of God may point in the darkness, sealed to human vision, 
 some way of escape from the impending evil, some path of peace 
 and safety and honor, that this land of freedom may remain for- 
 ever, in the fullness of its promise, the home of religion and the 
 asylum for the oppressed of all nations. 
 
 But, fellow citizens, as ])ainful as it may be for me to do so, I 
 must warn you, as a sentinel whom you yourself have placed upon 
 the outpost, and who has used all of his watchfulness and all of his 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 163 
 
 sagacity in view of the tremendous interests at stake, that I see 
 full reason to fear for the worst. It is my solemn conviction that 
 the party in power will yield no principle, and relinquish no claim ; 
 that without the promise of indemnity for the past or security for the 
 future, you will be called on to vote whether Virginia shall abide by 
 the North or the South, whether she shall establish her own gov- 
 ernment and trust to new alliances, or whether she shall submit 
 to Black Republican rule. In this unhappy event my ballot is al- 
 ready prepared. I trust we shall all cast our lots together. Let 
 Virginia be our first care. Her interests, her honor, her safety our 
 chief concern. For myself. I pledge my love, my life, my all. She 
 is the land of my birth, the home of my fathers. The bones of 
 my dead sleep in her bosom, and I would mingle my own dust with 
 her hallowed soil. It was her sons who constructed this magnificent 
 temple of human liberty, their wisdom strengthened it, their genius 
 adorned it, their valor defended it — and now treachery and fanati- 
 cism would pull it tumbling about our ears. In a Southern Confed- 
 eracy Virginia will find a sisterhood of States whose interests are 
 her interests, whose people are her sons, and whose destiny must be 
 her destiny. To this she will naturally look for sympathy and as- 
 sociation and help; and from this I would be the last to turn her 
 away. But broken covenants, misplaced confidence, and present rev- 
 olution should teach lessons of prudence, and inculcate jealous care 
 of all future union with other governments at home or abroad. For- 
 get not that before this time Virginia surrendered voluntarily, and 
 generously, an empire in the Northwest to a nation that peopled it 
 with her enemies, and erected no barriers to prevent them from her 
 coasts. 
 
 You hold in your hand to-day the return for this magnificent be- 
 quest, a dishonored flag, and a menace of subjugation. Weigh well 
 the price before you make out the title deed to another purchaser, 
 and heaven help you to a better bargain in the future. But dividing 
 the loss and sharing your lot for better or for worse, I am 
 Respectfully and truly. 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 John Herbert Claiborne. 
 
 In reproducing this address I again call the reader's 
 attention to the fact that it was made some three 
 months before the actual dissolution of the Union and 
 the inauguration of war by the President of the United 
 States. It was made in hope of opening the eyes of 
 my constituents to the dangers consequent upon the 
 election of a sectional President, dangers to be averted 
 only by a wise and prompt preparation for resistance 
 
164 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia 
 
 to the encroachment of the Republican Party, upon 
 rights guaranteed by the Constitution ; but an instru- 
 ment which they had denounced as the "superstition of 
 the American people," and as a "league with hell and 
 a covenant with the Devil." I could not see what else 
 we had to expect from such a party in power than the 
 denouement which so soon and so inevitably followed 
 — war, subjugation, and destruction. But I failed to 
 make my people see with my eyes. "No danger, no 
 danger," it was said, that any men elected as President 
 of this country by the free suffrage of the great Amer- 
 ican people would inaugurate a war between the States, 
 would lay waste the heritage left us by our fathers, and 
 which had been so dearly bought with their blood and 
 treasure. They failed to see that Mr. Lincoln was not 
 elected President by the great American people, but by 
 a plurality of votes between three candidates, and votes 
 from one section exclusively ; a section which had re- 
 pudiated the organic law of the land, and denied to the 
 other section any right which faction, fanaticism, or 
 hypocrisy could assail. They failed, also, to take cog- 
 nizance of a most significant fact, viz : that the man 
 elected President by the great American people could 
 not reach the Capital of the country to take upon him- 
 self the oath of office except stealthily and under dis- 
 guise, so great was the indignation of the public at the 
 perpetration of so foul a wrong. The Union men, even 
 then, failed to see anything more in this remarkable 
 episode than the ebullition of a partisan, and perhaps a 
 lawless element of an excited population. The last ex- 
 piring, mistaken, but honorable effort of the Union 
 men in Virginia was to call a Peace Convention of the 
 border and Northern States, to assemble at Washing- 
 ton, in order to devise if possible some plan of perpet- 
 uating in its purity a government which had served for 
 three-quarters of a century to secure to the citizen 
 
Politics of the Ante-Belluni Period 165 
 
 safety at home and protection abroad; a government 
 which had been Hterally a palladium of rights of all the 
 people. Every border State and nearly every North- 
 ern State sent commissioners to the convention, men 
 mostly of mark and patriotic service to their States 
 and to the country. The Convention did itself and Vir- 
 ginia the honor of electing John Tyler President of the 
 Convention. Some of the Northern and Northwestern 
 States declined to send delegates. The vicious and 
 venomous old fanatic who filled the chair of Governor 
 of Michigan recommended that commissioners be sent 
 from all the States, out of courtesy, but that "only men 
 of backbone" be sent ; saying at the same time that the 
 "Union would not be worth much without a little spill- 
 ing of blood." 
 
 Mr. Tyler had served the people of Virginia in va- 
 rious offices of distinction and trust for nearly half a 
 century. He had been a member of the General As- 
 sembly, of the Executive Council, had been Governor 
 of the State, member of the House of Representatives 
 of the Congress of the United States from Virginia. 
 Senator in Congress from Virginia, Vice-President and 
 President of the United States, President of the Peace 
 Conference, member of the State Convention of 1828- 
 '30, member of the Convention of 1861, member of the 
 Provisional Congress of the Confederate States, and a 
 member-elect of the permanent Congress of the Con- 
 federate States. At the Convention of the Peace Com- 
 missioners in Washington he was literally "an old man 
 full of honor." But he as literally laid aside his years, 
 and with all the vigor of manhood, and the thrilling 
 eloquence which had so often electrified senates and 
 swayed assemblies, he called the attention of the mem- 
 bers of the convention to the monuments which their 
 God-like fathers, through their wisdom and patriotism, 
 had built up, and to the task of preserving them spot- 
 
1 66 Sezruty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 less — "a task equally grand, equally sublime and quite 
 as full of glory and immortality." Mr. Tyler was a 
 Union man and represented the Union men of Virginia 
 as no other man could have done. In another address 
 in Baltimore, speaking of the Union, he said: "I will 
 not believe that a people so favored by Heaven will 
 most wickedly and foolishly throw away a pearl richer 
 than all their tribe. No, when I open the Book of 
 Sybils there is unfolded to my sight, in characters 
 bright and resplendent, glorious and revivifying, the 
 American Confederacy in the distant future, shining 
 with increased splendor, the paragon of governments, 
 the example of the world. If I misinterpret these 
 prophecies, let me live and die in my error. Let it 
 rather be thus than to awaken me to the opposite real- 
 ity, full of the horrid spectre of a strong government 
 sustained by bristling fortifications, large standing 
 armies, heavy burdens on the shoulders of industry, the 
 sword never at rest in its scabbard, and the ear ever 
 deafened by the roar of cannon. No ! Leave me for the 
 remnant of my days the belief that the government and 
 institutions, handed down to us by our fathers, are to 
 be the rich legacy of our children and our children's 
 children to the latest generation. If this be a delusion, 
 let me embrace it as a reality, keep at a distance from 
 me that gaunt and horrible form which is engendered 
 in folly and nurtured in faction, and which slakes its 
 thirst in the tears of broken hearts and appeases its 
 appetite on the blasted hopes of mankind." 
 
 Governor Wise, of Virginia, the lifelong friend of 
 Mr. Tyler, quotes in his "Seven Decades of the Union" 
 a great part of this eloquent address, and adds in his 
 own fervid and loving words: "He did misinterpret the 
 prophecies ; the gods loved him too well to grant his 
 prayer. He was taken away from the touch of subju- 
 gation. He never tasted the bitterness of its ashes. 
 
Politics of the Autc-BcUum Period 167 
 
 His heart was not broken, he died in hope, and was 
 never forced to see the 'gaunt and horrible form' of 
 that despotism of Congress which destroyed the Con- 
 stitution, States, laws and liberties of the people of the 
 United States." The calling of the "Peace Conference 
 of all the States" was the last effort of the Union men 
 of Virginia to preserve the Union, and John Tyler 
 was an ambassador worthy of them and worthy of the 
 cause ; like them, he was "too much for forbearance, 
 peace and compromise." 
 
 Three-fifths of the leading men of Virginia were for 
 the Union as the Union was construed and handed 
 down to them from their fathers. That they had the 
 right peaceably to secede from this Union ; that this 
 compact, which they had entered into with States, could 
 be broken when the terms of the compact had been 
 violated, they had never entertained a doubt. War 
 waged upon them for the perpetuation of the Union 
 was regarded as a delusion. Again quoting Mr. Wise : 
 "Had they foreseen that war was inevitable upon their 
 withdrawal from the Union, they would have prepared 
 for it, and if at the very beginning they had prepared 
 for it, and at first 'had drawn the sword instead of blow- 
 ing the horn,' there would have been no war. The 
 prompt, prepared attitude of war would have brought 
 a peaceful adjustment which would have sheathed the 
 drawn sword without a drop of blood. But the Union 
 men could not see it in that light. Earnest, honest, 
 patriotic, the best representatives of the best ideas of a 
 conservative government, united for the best interests 
 of all the people, their last struggle for the preserva- 
 tion of the Union was as noble as it was unfortunate. 
 Until the assembly of the Convention of Virginia for 
 the purpose of determining the relation of the State to 
 the States which had already severed their connection 
 with the Union, the Northern people never doubted but 
 
1 68 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 that the border States, and especially Virginia, would 
 side with the South. They had regarded the Secession- 
 ists, the "fire-eaters," as called by some, the true ex- 
 ponents of the policy which would be pursued by Vir- 
 ginia in case of dissolution of the Union, and they had 
 made up their minds to a peaceable separation. 
 
 Horace Greeley, the mouthpiece and Magnus Apollo 
 of the Republican Party, said in his paper, in contem- 
 plation of disunion, which was then already fait accompli, 
 as far as some half dozen States were concerned, that 
 "If the Declaration of Independence justified the with- 
 drawal or secession of three milhon of colonists from 
 the British Empire, in 1776, he could not see why five 
 million Southern men could not withdraw from the 
 Federal Union in 1861. The Neiv York Herald, an 
 equally blatant and proscriptive Northern paper, said 
 on the 23d of November, i860, "that coercion in any 
 event was out of the question, and that a Union held 
 together by bayonets would be nothing better than a 
 military despotism." 
 
 I have personal knowledge of the views and inten- 
 tions of some of the leading men of the dominant party 
 in Congress after the election of Mr. Lincoln, and I 
 am sure that they decided on permitting a peaceful se- 
 cession of the Southern States, and that the idea of 
 coercion was not at all entertained. 
 
 After the adjournment of the Senate, and on the as- 
 sembly of the Convention on the 13th of February, 
 two members of the Virginia Senate besides myself, 
 Honorable Benjamin Nash, of Chesterfield, the young- 
 est Senator in the body except myself, and the Hon. 
 Mr. Lynch, of Campbell, one of the oldest members of 
 the body, but a genial, hearty, young old gentleman, 
 visited Washington together, remaining a week for the 
 purpose of studying the situation and watching the 
 trend of matters. As members of the Virginia Senate 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 169 
 
 we had access by courtesy to the floor of the House of 
 Representatives, and by the poHteness of some of our 
 Virginia Congressmen made some pleasant acquaint- 
 ances amongst the Repubhcan members. We heard 
 also two capital speeches, one by Mr. Sigourney, of 
 New York, and one by Mr. Kellogg, of Illinois, both 
 leaders and able parliamentarians, both of whom were 
 for peace. We did not hear a speech advocating co- 
 ercion in the lower house, and only one in the Senate, 
 which was by Andy Johnson, as he was then called, the 
 Senator from Tennessee, and subsequently Vice-Presi- 
 dent, and after the death of Lincoln, President of the 
 United States. To this we will refer again. 
 
 Dissolution of the Union was undoubtedly contem- 
 plated, but a dissolution peaceably and without contest. 
 The idea of dissolution of the Union was not of South- 
 ern birth or origin. The people of the South loved the 
 Union, as was shown by the action of Virginia and of 
 the border States, even to the last days of the Union. 
 Not only the right of any State or States to secede 
 from the Union, but the propriety of such action under 
 certain circumstances, had been announced and had 
 been endorsed as far back as 18 14, when the States of 
 Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and others, 
 which were opposed to the war of 1812, called a conven- 
 tion at Hartford and published a manifesto, in which it 
 was declared that "if the Union be destined to dissolu- 
 tion, wherever it shall appear that the causes are radical 
 and permanent, a separation by equitable arrangement 
 will be preferable to an alliance by constraint among 
 nominal friends, but real enemies." In 1839 ex-Presi- 
 dent John Quincy Adams said in an address in New 
 York that "it would be far better for the people of the 
 disunited States to part in friendship with each other 
 than to be held together by constraint." 
 
I/O Scrcnty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Mr. William Rawles, a distinguished jurist of Penn- 
 sylvania, in his work on the Constitution, said ''it de- 
 pended on a State itself whether it would continue a 
 member of the Union or not." Mr. Webster, "the 
 great expounder of the Constitution," said ten years 
 before this date of 1861 in a speech at Capon Springs, 
 Virginia, and afterwards in Buffalo, New York, "that if 
 the South were to violate any part of the Constitution 
 intentionally and systematically, and persist in doing 
 so year after year, would the North any longer be 
 bound by it ; and if the North, deliberately, habitually, 
 and of fixed purpose were to disregard one part of it, 
 would the South any longer be bound to observe its 
 other obligations?'' How absurd it is to suppose that 
 when different parties enter into a compact for certain 
 purposes, either can disregard any one provision, and 
 expect, nevertheless, the other to observe the rest. A 
 bargain cannot be broken on one side and still bind 
 on the other. 
 
 And Senator Benjamin F. Wade, of Ohio, a bitter 
 South-hater, said, from his seat in the United States 
 Senate: "Who is the final arbiter (of this question of 
 secession), the General Government or the States in 
 their sovereignty? Why, sir, to yield that point is to 
 yield up all the rights of the States to protect their 
 own citizens, and to consolidate this Government into 
 a military despotism." And later, on the i8th of De- 
 cember, 1864: "I do not blame the South so much, 
 because they have been led to believe that we, to-day 
 the dominant party, who are about to take the reins of 
 government, are their mortal foes and stand ready to 
 trample their institutions under foot" (which they im- 
 mediately did). And so might we quote from other 
 distinguished Northern men, Republicans — Williams, 
 of Massachusetts. Cabot Lodge, of Massachusetts, Gen. 
 John A. Logan, of the United States Senate, and after- 
 
Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period 171 
 
 wards major-general in the United States Army, who 
 said, as late as the fifth of February, 1861, "that the 
 abolitionists of the North have constantly warred upon 
 Southern institutions by incessant abuse from the pul- 
 pit, from the press, on the stump, and in the Halls of 
 Congress. By these denunciations and lawless acts 
 on the part of abolition fanatics, such results have been 
 produced as to drive the people of the Southern States 
 to a sleepless vigilance for the protection of their prop- 
 erty and the preservation of their rights." Even the 
 subsequently notorious Edwin M. Stanton said "there 
 was no power under the Constitution to coerce a se- 
 ceding State." These authorities are not collected and 
 quoted in defense of the right of secession. Were such 
 defense necessary, arguments indisputable and irre- 
 fragable, and from higher authorities, could be pro- 
 duced and piled one upon another, until a structure 
 would stand, as such a structure ever stands, impreg- 
 nable and unassailable by sophism or logic. 
 
 What I wish to show is that representative men, men 
 wdio voiced the opinions of the people of the North, 
 not only yielded the question of the right, but sus- 
 tained the right of a State to retire from the Union in 
 virtue of its own sovereign power as expressed by the 
 votes of its citizens. More than that. The trend of 
 opinion of the party which had come into power with 
 the election and inauguration of Mr. Lincoln, as shown 
 by their speeches and their papers, was that a peaceable 
 dissolution of the Union was not only possible, but de- 
 sirable. The Union-loving people were of the South, 
 and of that conservative, patriotic, and law-abiding 
 party of the North which had no representative in the 
 factious, fanatical, and revolutionary class that damned 
 the Constitution and the laws, and elevated, by a plu- 
 rality of votes, one of their own ilk to the Presidential 
 chair. 
 
1/2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 What cared those people for a Union that stood 
 as a menace to their machinations and as a bulwark 
 against their mad assaults upon their neighbor's prop- 
 erty and possessions? What had they or their fathers 
 done to build up this Union, to adorn it, to en- 
 large its borders, and make it great at home and glo- 
 rious abroad? They had gotten their hands upon the 
 strong box of the Government, and were awaiting 
 the division of the pelf. But they never meant to fight 
 for it. That was not in their line, and but few of their 
 company fell into line when the roll beat, and they 
 found out that they had awakened the demon of war. 
 Le^ their own chief answer. Ida M. Tarbell, in her 
 "Life of Lincoln," says that she was told by the late 
 Joseph Medill, editor of the Chicago Tribune, that he 
 went on an occasion and as one of a committee, from 
 Chicago to Washington, to intercede with the authori- 
 ties to be relieved from sending more troops to the war, 
 in accordance with a new draft just ordered, and which 
 was giving trouble. The committee went to Mr. Stan- 
 ton, and failing to get relief from him, went to Mr. 
 Lincoln. ]\Ir. Medill says: ''T shall never forget how 
 he (Mr. Lincoln) suddenly lifted his head and turned 
 on us a black and frowning face. 'Gentlemen,' he said, 
 'after Boston. Chicago has been the chief instrument of 
 bringing this war on the country. It is you who are 
 largely responsible for making blood to flow as it has. 
 You called for war and we had it, you called for eman- 
 cipation and we have given it to you. Whatever you 
 have asked for you have had. Now you came here beg- 
 ing to be let off. You ought to be ashamed of your- 
 selves. I had a right to expect better things of you. 
 Go home and raise your extra six thousand men.' " 
 That is documentary proof of what I have said, taken 
 from their own authorities. 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 173 
 
 Mr. Lincoln did not anticipate war in earnest. Had 
 he done so his hard common sense would never have 
 permitted him to perpetrate the absurd blunder of call- 
 ing for 75,000 men to subjugate the four million of 
 people South of Mason and Dixon's line. The per- 
 sistent, patient dogging of the Union men of the bor- 
 der States, sending commission after commission to 
 Washington to treat for, and to implore, a recognition 
 of their rights, finally convinced the party in power 
 that if the Union were dissolved they would find pow- 
 erful alHes, if not most influential friends, in the State 
 governments of the border States. 
 
 After the assembly of the convention of Virginia in 
 Richmond, the Hon. M. Carr, of North Carolina, came 
 to my seat in the Senate with a letter from a mutual 
 friend, and asked me if I would go with him to the 
 Executive Office and introduce him to Governor 
 Letcher, saying that his mission to Richmond was to 
 see what Virginia intended to do ; what her course was 
 to be in reference to the seceding States ; saying at the 
 same time that his people were, the great majority of 
 them, for the Union, but he felt that the interests 
 and destinies of all the Southern States were one; 
 and that his State was waiting anxiously to see 
 what we would do. I took him to the Governor's 
 office, where I found, not only the Governor, but sev- 
 eral of the most prominent Union men of the Conven- 
 tion, and introduced him, intimating to the gentlemen 
 present the object of Mr. Carr's visit. And as I was 
 not one of the Governor's way of thinking, I was not 
 sure that in the presence of the Httle group assembled 
 there I was persona gratis. After a few minutes, 
 therefore, I bowed myself out, not too late, however, 
 to hear the Governor say: "Mr. Carr, whatever Vir- 
 ginia does she is not going to be dragged out of the 
 Union at the tail of a Southern Confederacy." Mr. 
 
174 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Letcher undoubtedly voiced the sentiment of three- 
 fifths of the Union men of Virginia at that day and 
 hour. How different that ringing reply of the Gover- 
 nor a few days later to the call for Virginia's quota 
 of troops to subjugate the Southern States ; and how 
 like a bomb it must have fallen into the Lincoln camp ! 
 Had a letter embodying these views been sent to Mr. 
 Lincoln by the hands of the Hon. A. H. H. Stuart, 
 William Ballard Preston, and George W. Randolph, on 
 the final mission of the Virginia Convention to Wash- 
 ington to secure information, and to ask what course 
 the President intended to pursue toward the seceding 
 States, they would never have returned to Richmond 
 with a message of war on the 12th of April, nor would 
 Mr. Lincoln have issued his call for troops from Vir- 
 ginia on the 15th, nor would the Ordinance of Seces- 
 sion have been passed on the 17th. When the commis- 
 sion returned to the convention and reported the re- 
 sults of the final interview with the Washington au- 
 thorities, it was asked what the Union men proposed to 
 do. Hon. John Baldwin, of Staunton, one of the 
 staunchest supporters of the Union cause, and one of 
 its ablest advocates, arose from his seat and replied, 
 "There are no Union men now." Thus, in one short 
 week, event upon event of the most momentous im- 
 port and issue crowded upon each other's trail, and his- 
 tory was made with almost indecent haste. 
 
 I was in Washington with several of my comrades 
 of the Virginia Senate, as I have before said, and after 
 the announcement of the first vote in the Virginia Con- 
 vention, which determined seemingly its political char- 
 acter, and which made apparent that a large majority of 
 that body was opposed to secession, I witnessed the 
 most complete tergiversation of men and measures that 
 I had conceived possible. The representatives of Vir- 
 ginia, and of the border States generally, were men who 
 
Politics of the Antc-Belhtm Period 175 
 
 believed that their respective States would follow the 
 fortunes of the cotton States, and had imbued the 
 minds of the dominant party with that idea. Hence, as 
 we said, a peaceable separation of North and South was 
 not only contemplated, but mutually agreed upon. The 
 constant and repeated efforts of the Union men of the 
 South, by commissions and re-commissions, of men 
 of the greatest prominence, and whose pure and pa- 
 triotic motives none could question, havl undoubtedly 
 begun to weaken the minds of the Washington authori- 
 ties in reference to the true position of the border 
 States ; but I could never have believed, had I not wit- 
 nessed it, that so complete and so sudden a revulsion of 
 feeling, that so complete and so sudden an announce- 
 ment of a change of policy, could have pervaded 
 any party or any people. It was no longer, as 
 Greeley said, "let the erring sisters go in peace." 
 Our Republican friends still received us socially, 
 and with warmth, but guyed us, some of them un- 
 mercifully. "Why," said they, "you gentlemen could 
 not have been well acquainted at home, or at least with 
 public sentiment at home. You told us that your State 
 would secede from the Union. Look at the announce- 
 ment in the Richmond papers. Not one-fourth of your 
 Convention are secessionists ; your people are for the 
 Union, and we will kick the cotton States back, and 
 you will help us." 
 
 A representative from Massachusetts, the Hon. Wil- 
 liam Burlingame, who rose to a good deal of distinc- 
 tion afterwards as Minister to China, and who had been 
 particularly genial and generous with us, sought us out 
 at once and said, "I told you that Virginia could never 
 leave the Union : that we would not let you have any 
 more ice for your juleps, and you could not do without 
 that." I confess that my own faith weakened in the 
 stand which I thought Virginia would and ought to 
 
176 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 take, and we paid fewer visits to the Capital there- 
 after, and held fewer interviews with our radical friends. 
 Walking the streets of Washington one morning a 
 few days after these incidents, we noticed armed and 
 uniformed sentries in sections of the city where we had 
 never noticed their presence before, and on asking what 
 it meant were referred to a morning paper. On doing 
 so we saw that General Winfield Scott, whose head- 
 quarters were in Washington, had assumed virtual con- 
 trol of the police department. This, in time of peace, 
 seemed rather a departure from civic precedent, and to 
 us prognosticated danger. We did not foresee the im- 
 minence of that danger, nor dream of a Bastile at the 
 old Capitol, in whose black shadow so many citizens 
 were soon to be shut out from light and liberty. Had 
 we done so, we probably would not have lingered so 
 long about the Holy City, but left more promptly, 
 leaving our cards and excuses. As it was, moved per- 
 haps more by a spirit of what the world's people style 
 deviltry, than by any decent desire to pay our compli- 
 ments to the President, and the Commander-in-Chief 
 of the Army and Navy of the United States, we called 
 on Mr. Buchanan, and sending in our cards as Senators 
 from Virginia, they secured us I suppose an immediate 
 hearing, and we were ushered into the private ofifice of 
 the Executive. Acting as master of ceremonies, I in- 
 troduced, first myself, and then my confreres. One of 
 the young gentlemen with us inaugurated proceedings 
 by asking after the health of Miss Harriet Lane — the 
 President's niece, and whilom mistress of the White 
 House. I suppressed his politness by a wholesome 
 pressure of the boot heel upon his toe, and improved 
 the solemn occasion by saying with all the dignity that 
 I could crowd into my manner, ''Mr. President, as citi- 
 zens of Virginia, a State without one stain upon her 
 escutcheon, and as accredited representatives In the 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period lyy 
 
 Honorable Senate of the General Assembly of Virginia, 
 we have been estopped this morning upon the streets 
 of the city of Washington, the Capital of our common 
 country — estopped by armed sentry, and informed that 
 we cannot extend our walks in this direction or that 
 direction ; and had the reason assigned us, that General 
 Winfield Scott has virtually assumed command of the 
 civil police. In this time of peace, would it be asking 
 too much, Mr. President, if we ventured to inquire, be- 
 fore leaving for our homes, what grave reasons of state 
 have rendered these extraordinary measures neces- 
 sary?" Mr. Buchanan disputed the statement, politely, 
 but with som.e feeling, and I handed him the morning 
 paper, and called his attention to the paragraph upon 
 which my inquiry was founded. I do not think that he 
 was really aware of the facts before. He did not say so, 
 but retaining his seat, which he had not left to greet 
 us, he commenced to speak with a tearful voice of the 
 delicate and responsible position of his office; of the 
 strict account to which he would be held as guardian 
 of the muniments of state, of how he loved Virginia 
 and Maryland, and of the disturbed and distressing 
 condition of public affairs, etc., etc. As soon as we 
 could politely adjourn .the meeting we retired, con- 
 vinced that we had not seen the President. Mr. Lin- 
 coln had not taken his seat, of course, in the latter part 
 of February, 1861, but Mr. Buchanan was not Presi- 
 dent. Some of the party suggested that Jeremiah 
 Black, and others that General Scott, was President, 
 but we made no further presidential calls. 
 
 Strolling into the gallery of the Senate, we heard the 
 final debate betw^een Andy Johnson, the Senator from 
 Tennessee, and Wigfall, Senator from Texas. His State 
 had seceded, but Wigfall persisted in retaining his seat 
 at his pleasure, and for the purpose, it is said, of scoring 
 the Republican Senators as often as he could get oppor- 
 
i/S Sci'cnty-fii'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 tunity. Senator Johnson was speaking upon the all- 
 engrossing subject when we entered the Senate, and 
 from his standpoint made an able effort. As soon as he 
 took his seat, Wigfall obtained recognition from the 
 Chair, and commenced a speech which for rugged elo- 
 quence, pathos, humor, satire, and crushing assault ex- 
 ceeded anything I have ever heard. He commenced 
 by saying, as well as I can recall his words after forty 
 3'ears, that he proposed to direct his remarks to the 
 Senator from Tennessee, and that, but for his respect 
 for the decencies of debate and his regard for Senatorial 
 courtesy, he would apply to him the well known re- 
 mark of another gentleman on another occasion, ''Lord 
 Angus, thou hast lied." And then for fifteen minutes 
 there followed such a hot strain of charges, and merci- 
 less assault, that vS. A. Douglas took pity on Johnson, 
 evidently, and putting his arm over his shoulder, led 
 him into the cloak-room. In the meantime the gallery 
 had caught up the furor, and with storms of applause 
 made a temporary bedlam. The President of the Sen- 
 ate used his gavel vigorously, but without silencing 
 the commotion, and he ordered the galleries to be 
 cleared. I was sitting by the Hon. Alexander Rives, 
 of Albemarle, one of my confreres in the Senate of Vir- 
 ginia, a grave and dignified gentleman, and when the 
 Sergeant-at-Arms approached us, and commenced to 
 hustle us out, as he did every one else, Mr. Rives pro- 
 tested strongly, saying with an expression that he 
 often used when he wished to be emphatic, "God bless 
 my soul, sir, I have not made any noise, nor have I sym- 
 pathized in this disturbance." But the officer was in- 
 exorable, and turned us out with the others. We 
 wended our way to our hotel. Mr. Rives, no little crest- 
 fallen at his treatment, said to me as we went to dinner, 
 "My friend, if you have any Virginia bonds, sell them; 
 great trouble is pending." I left Washington the next 
 
Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period 179 
 
 day, confident that disunion was at hand, but I really 
 feared from the action of the Virginia Convention that 
 the old State would either stand alone, or with the 
 border States, fix up, or attempt to fix up, some de- 
 fensive alliance with the Federal Government. The 
 words of Mr. Burlingame in Congress to myself and my 
 confreres, "We are going to kick the cotton States 
 back into the Union and you are going to help us," 
 rang in my ears, and knowing how far my own personal 
 help would go in that direction, on reaching home com- 
 menced making my arrangements to remove my fam- 
 ily to Mississippi. But events moved too rapidly to per- 
 mit me to complete them, and in a day the revolution 
 came, as I had predicted in the Senate of Virginia on 
 the 19th of January, i860, it would come — when some 
 State, staggering under the burden of oppression, 
 should walk out of the Union ; and that it would come, 
 in all of its horrors, and with no power upon earth or 
 in Heaven to prevent, when a sectional President 
 should be summoned to the command of the Army and 
 Navy of the United States, and should marshal the 
 Federal forces to coerce such a State into submission. 
 This prophecy did not amount to much with three- 
 fifths of my own constituency — much less was such a 
 sequence of events contemplated by any great number 
 of the people of the border States, and by fewer of the 
 people of the Northern States ; that is, amongst those 
 who loved the Union and desired to maintain it. The 
 radicals of the Northern States, the Republican Party, 
 which cared nothing for the Union except so far as it 
 could be made subservient to their interests, and which 
 was ready to dissolve the Federation when it failed to 
 foster their fanatical designs, were not averse to a sepa- 
 ration from the Southern States, as has been clearly 
 shown by the authorities cited ; but they did not antici- 
 pate war, certainly not a war of such magnitude as their 
 
i8o Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia 
 
 blind partisanship developed. Mr. Lincoln, then, when 
 he precipitated the culmination of these events by the 
 egregious folly of summoning 75,000 men to subdue 
 the Southern States,* was simply bluffing, but in a game 
 the most momentous, and with stakes the most stu- 
 pendous of any game which was ever played on this or 
 any other continent. And when Mr. Letcher called 
 him and showed him the mailed hand of Virginia, he 
 threw down his cards. He had lost. Nothing was 
 left him then but to accept his own wager, the wager 
 of battle — war! Two years later, as before stated, he 
 said to the chairman of the committee from Chicago 
 who waited on him and protested against furnishing 
 more troops, "Gentlemen, next to Boston, you are re- 
 sponsible for all of this blood which has been shed. 
 You asked for war, and I gave it to you." Not won- 
 derful that he should have wished to shift upon other 
 shoulders the responsibility of a war so unnecessary, so 
 cruel, so causeless, so costly in blood and treasure. 
 When, following Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, 
 and Arkansas fell into line in a day, and bared their 
 front to the Federal menace of subjugation of their 
 sister States ; when the proud-spirited people of Ken- 
 tucky, and their worthy scions who had wrested Mis- 
 souri from the red man ; and when liberty-loving Mary- 
 land, fired by the memory of the traditions of her past, 
 all essayed to join their fortunes with the men of the 
 South, until throttled by the hand of the despot at their 
 doors — Mr. Lincoln realized, perhaps for the first time, 
 speaking in his own homely vernacular, "the bigness of 
 the job which he had undertaken." He was aware, 
 moreover, that he was not the President, by choice, 
 of the people of the United States, but only of a faction 
 of them, not all of which even sustained him ; and he 
 
 * 3ce Appendix, 
 
Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period i8i 
 
 was aware that even if he were President, he had not 
 the right to declare war, that such power was vested 
 only in the Congress of the United States. The Sen- 
 ate, though radical, refused to ratify his course and to 
 declare it legal, yet with the black brow of his imper- 
 turbable will, and with a heart steeled to do the Devil's 
 bidding, he set section against section, State against 
 State, until this fair land had been deluged with fratri- 
 cidal blood and a million of yawning graves had re- 
 ceived a million of ghastly dead. No wonder that he 
 wished to shift the responsibility upon another, and that 
 he shrank from the office of High Priest at the altar 
 where this horrid holocaust was offered. He sought, of 
 course, to throw this responsibility upon the South. 
 Was not the South the aggressor? Did it not strike 
 the first blow, and did it not fire the first gun? And 
 dividing with his treacherous Secretary of State the 
 honor of the duplicity, he made it appear for a time 
 that he was the innocent and incorruptible patriot who 
 had striven in vain to keep the peace and to preserve 
 the integrity of the nation. Many people believe this 
 yet. To those at the North who have not taken such 
 interest in the subject as to lead them to examine into 
 the truthfulness or falsity of the record, we make no 
 address; but to the Southron, especially the young 
 Southron, who can coolly and without contradiction 
 listen to and accept such perversion of fact, we wish 
 to remark that he is unworthy of the noble heritage 
 of courage and of honor which he received from his 
 fathers. He should know enough of the traditions of 
 his Southern home to know that there was ever an 
 unwritten law, but sustained by judge and justice, 
 which made "the lie direct the first blow." Mr. Hal- 
 lam ("Constitutional History of England") more ele- 
 gantly, but not more forcibly, elaborates the law and 
 refers to it as of universal application. He says that 
 
]S2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 "the aggressor in a war, that is, he who begins it, is not 
 the first who uses force but the first who renders force 
 necessary." Who was the aggressor in the war be- 
 tween the States? We have seen that several of the 
 States of the South, after repeated acts of contumely, 
 aggression, and robbery on the part of certain States 
 of the North, had, in the exercise of their constituted 
 right, determined to leave a Union in which the com- 
 pact creating it had been repeatedly and wickedly 
 broken ; and taking possession of the common prop- 
 erty of such Union as lay within their borders, had 
 sent commissioners to their Northern brethren to ad- 
 just the terms upon which such property should be 
 divided. And we have quoted argument and senti- 
 ment, not from Southern, but from the highest North- 
 ern authorities, admitting and sustaining the legality 
 and the propriety of this course of action in the South. 
 Not one act of violence had been committed, nor any 
 blow had been struck anywhere in the South by the 
 Federal Government, and the Government had not at- 
 tempted to reclaim or retake any of its so called prop- 
 erty prior to May, 1861. But South Carolina, which 
 had left the Union six months before, had, in the har- 
 bor of Charleston, a fort still in the occupation of the 
 Federal troops, and which as long as it was held by 
 such troops was not only a menace but a source of 
 irritation and a seat of danger. She requested the 
 evacuation of this fort, and sent commissioners to 
 Washington to treat with the authorities in reference 
 to the terms on which the garrison should leave. The 
 Federal authorities refused to receive these commis- 
 sioners, but treated with them through Judges Camp- 
 bell and Nelson of the Supreme Court of the United 
 States, two gentlemen of the greatest integrity and of 
 the highest position in the land. It was agreed on 
 between the commissioners of South Carolina and Mr 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 183 
 
 Seward that Fort Sumter should not be fired upon 
 unless attempts were made, by the Government to 
 revictual or reinforce it, and meanwhile Mr. Seward 
 gave Judge Campbell to understand that Fort Sumter 
 would be evacuated in a few days. 
 
 In the meantime an expedition, called the "Relief 
 Squadron," of eleven ships, heavily armed, and twenty- 
 tour hundred men, was being gotten in readiness for 
 reinforcing Sumter and revictualing the garrison 
 — "peaceably if possible, forcibly if it must be." This 
 occupied twenty-three days, during the whole of which 
 time Mr. Seward kept Judge Campbell ignorant of the 
 facts, and even notifying him in writing on the day 
 the squadron was ordered to sail. May 7th, "Faith as 
 to Sumter fully kept." Judge Campbell demanded 
 of Mr. Seward what this deception meant, but no ex- 
 planation was ever given. He simply took Mr. Lin- 
 coln into partnership in his base duplicity, and the 
 words have passed into history, affixing to the joint 
 names a stigma as damnatory as ineffaceable. Only 
 at the last minute were Governor Pickens, of South 
 Carolina, and the Confederate authorities made aware 
 of the saiHng and destination of this fleet; and then, 
 without awaiting its appearance at their doors, they 
 reduced Fort Sumter and saved Charleston from the 
 horrors of a bombardment. By order of the Con- 
 federate authorities. General Beauregard fired the first 
 shot. But who made the first shot necessary? Who 
 was the aggressor? Let the South be silent if you 
 please. Let the North speak. 
 
 Mr. S. S. Cox, of New York, for twenty-four years 
 a prominent member of Congress, in his "Three De- 
 cades of the Federal Union," whilst discussing the sub- 
 ject of the "Republican Reprisals of Compromise" in 
 that remarkable session of i86o-'6i, says: "The real 
 question which history would regard as of the first im- 
 
184 Scventy-Hve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 portance at this time was this, Could not this Union 
 have been made permanent by a timely settlement, in- 
 stead of being cemented by fraternal blood and military 
 rule?" And answers, "Yes, by an equitable adjustment 
 of the territory this was possible." 
 
 The Crittenden Compromise offered such an adjust- 
 ment. This proposition the radicals denounced. Not- 
 withstanding the President-elect was then in a minority 
 of a million of votes, they were determined, — as Mr. 
 Chase wrote to Portsmouth, Ohio, from the Peace 
 Convention, — "they intended to use the power whilst 
 they had it, and to prevent a settlement." "It had 
 been stated," continues Mr. Cox, "that in order to rid 
 the Republicans of the odium of not averting the war 
 when it was possible, the Northern members ten- 
 dered the South the Crittenden Compromise, and it 
 was rejected. TJiis is not true. It was tendered by 
 Southern Senators and Northern Democrats to the Re- 
 publicans, and they, in conjunction with some half a 
 dozen extremist Southern Senators, rejected it. It 
 was voted on only once in the House, and received only 
 80 votes against 113. These 80 votes were exclusively 
 Democratic, or 'Southern Americans,' like Gilmore, 
 Vance, and others. The Republican roll, beginning 
 with Adams, and ending with Woodruff, was a unit 
 against it. The climax is reached. One more earnest 
 appeal is made to the Republicans. Senator Cameron 
 answers it by moving a reconsideration. His motion 
 is called up on the i8th of February. He votes against 
 his own motion. On this occasion all the Democrats 
 voted for, and all the Republicans against it. The 
 truth is, there are nothing but sneers and skepticism 
 from the Republicans at any settlement. If every 
 Southern man and every Northern Democrat had voted 
 for this proposition it would have required nine Re- 
 publican votes then to have carried it by the requisite 
 
Politics of the Ante-Belkim Period 185 
 
 two-thirds vote. Where are they? Dreaming with 
 Mr. Seward of a sixty-days struggle, or arranging for 
 the division of the patronage of the Administration." 
 (Congressional Globe, ist Part, 36th Congress, page 
 270.) 
 
 Whether, therefore, the public records are consult- 
 ed, or the inquirer goes within the veil and consults 
 those who know the men then at work in the commit- 
 tee, and in social life, one leading fact will always stand 
 stark and bold, viz : that with the help of a handful of 
 secessionists per se, the whole body of the Republicans 
 were, as Andrew Johnson described Senator Clark 
 when the latter defeated the Crittenden Compromise 
 by his amendment in the Senate, but "acting out 
 their own policy." In the light of subsequent events 
 that policy was developed. It was the destruction of 
 slavery at the peril of war, and disunion, or, as Senator 
 Douglas, of IHinois, expressed it, "a disruption of the 
 Union, believing it would draw after it, as inevitable 
 consequence, civil war, servile insurrection, and finally 
 the extermination of slavery in the United States." 
 Yet the leader and mouthpiece of this great faction de- 
 clared a few days later, upon the most solemn oath that 
 could be administered on the most momentous occa- 
 sion, that "he had neither the right nor the desire to 
 interfere with the existence of slavery in the States." 
 
 Once more, and from Northern testimony : Speak- 
 ing of the "Relief Squadron" sent to Charleston Har- 
 bor to reinforce and revictual Fort Sumter, Mr. Lunt, 
 of Massachusetts, says, "It was intended to draw the 
 fire of the Confederates, and was a silent aggression, 
 with the object of producing an active aggression from 
 the other side." Again, Mr. Williams, of Massachu- 
 setts: "There was no need for war. The action of 
 the Southern States was legal and constitutional." 
 The South was invaded, and a war of subjugation, des- 
 
1 86 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 tined to be the most gigantic which the world has 
 ever seen, was begun by the Federal Government 
 against the seceding States, in complete and amazing- 
 disregard of the foundation principle of its own exist- 
 ence, as affirmed in the Declaration of Independence, 
 viz: that "governments derive their just powers from 
 the consent of the governed" ; and, as established 
 by the War of the Revolution, for the people of the 
 States respectively. The South, with the eager and 
 resolute courage characteristic of her proud-spirited 
 people, accepted the contest thus forced upon her. 
 
 Who was the aggressor? The North has answered 
 through some of her truest and most patriotic sons. 
 The aggression had been a cunmlative evil and wrong 
 for twenty years, and its culmination occurred when 
 the Republican President, by the menace of an armed 
 fleet at Charleston, compelled the Confederate author- 
 itites to fire the first shot for defense. It was said that 
 the first shot fired at the British troops in Lexington, 
 Massachusetts, by a continental militiaman on the 17th 
 of April, 1775, awakened an echo of constitutional lib- 
 erty that went resounding through the whole world — 
 and the first shot fired from a Confederate battery at 
 Charleston, South Carolina, on the 12th of April, 
 1861, sounded the knell, not only of constitutional, 
 but of personal liberty, as far the power of the 
 United States Government extended. Mr. Lincoln 
 declared, in grim joke, that "he had the Constitution 
 locked up in his trunk in his room at the White 
 House" ; and Mr. Seward said to Lord Lyons, the 
 British Minister: "My Lord, I can touch a bell on my 
 right hand and order the arrest of a citizen of Ohio ; 
 I can touch a bell again, and order the imprisonment 
 of a citizen of New York ; and no power on earth but 
 that of the President can release them. Can the Queen 
 of England do as much?" Nor was this idle gas- 
 
Politics of the Antc-Bcllnm Period 187 
 
 conade. With a stroke of his pen he swept out those 
 words, nuUiis liber Iwiiw capeatur, which, though writ- 
 ten in a dead language, were "vital with liberty and 
 worth," as Chatham's nervous eloquence declared, "all 
 classic." The Magna Charta, wrested from King 
 John at Runnymede, for more than six centuries the 
 pride and glory of the Saxon and his descendants, was 
 crumpled up as common paper and pigeon-holed in the 
 secret drawers of the radical administrator. 
 
 The writ of habeas eorpus was suspended in every 
 State, and the summons of the civil courts ignored, and 
 trial by jury abolished. Mr. Stanton became Military 
 Dictator, with military satraps of his own appointment, 
 in any number at his own discretion, and with author- 
 ity to hold, arrest, and imprison at their own will. The 
 consequences can scarcely be conceived of at this day. 
 There was a Bastile in every State. Mr. John A. Mar- 
 shall, in a book called the "American Bastile,"* gives 
 the history of more than an hundred of the victims of 
 the Bastile, from Col. Lambdin P. Melligan, of Illinois, 
 to Francis Key Howard, of Maryland. But these were 
 only a few of the hundreds that were arrested upon the 
 merest trumpery of a charge, and imprisoned without 
 trial and without appeal. "Nor was civil liberty re- 
 stored to the citizen at the close of the war," says Mr. 
 Cox, in the volume before quoted. "When secession 
 died, as it did in the last ditch, then it was that the 
 malign spirit which had hovered in the rear of the con- 
 flict came to the front to gloat over the prostrate South- 
 ern land. The gray picket was no longer at his post 
 to challenge the spirit of hate and eternal discord. No 
 right was now known but the right of spoliation and 
 conquest." 
 
 *See Appendix. 
 
i88 Scz'cuiy-tn'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 A new executor (President Johnson) had come with 
 a "very small olive branch in his hand." What cared 
 the victorious conspirators for that? They spat upon 
 it with contempt. They impeached him for that small 
 tender. What cared they for executive clemency? 
 Wliat cared they for constitutional guarantees or Su- 
 preme Court decisions? They would have no law but 
 martial law in the "conquered provinces." Then, af- 
 ter the war, began a contest for the restoration of civil 
 liberty, "a contest which was not finally settled until 
 the last year of Republican sway. It took almost a 
 quarter of a century to silence the guns of Moultrie 
 and Sumter." But there were brave men in the North 
 who, in the legislative halls and outside of them, de- 
 nounced this tyrannical usurpation of authority, and 
 who fought with reckless courage for the maintenance 
 and the restoration of the right. Ganson, Voorhees, 
 Vallandigham, Cox, Winter Davis, Garfield (afterwards 
 President), were conspicuous in this struggle, and their 
 memories should be kept alive and honored by every 
 lover of liberty. But the immediate effect of the first 
 shot is the question. It "fired the Northern heart," 
 as Mr. Lincoln, according to his garrulous chroniclers 
 Nicolay and Hay, intended that it should do, and for 
 which reason he held the fleet inactive in Charleston 
 Harbor until after the reduction of Sumter and the sur- 
 render of the garrison. The sacred flag had been as- 
 sailed by the Rebels, and the "life of the country was 
 in danger." He had no difficulty in securing the 75,000 
 men at first called for, though the border States re- 
 fused to send their quota; nor had he any difficulty in 
 securing any number of volunteer troops, as long as 
 the idea prevailed that the fight was for the flag and 
 for the Union. But after it became evident that the 
 fight was for the negro, for the emancipation of the 
 slave, and for the subjugation of the white man, then 
 
Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 189 
 
 troops were only raised by levy, by conscription — and 
 conscription resisted by riot. But in vain! Personal 
 liberty had been sacrificed to the Moloch of hate and 
 fanaticism, and in four years the actual enUstment of 
 Army and Navy was 2,780,000 men volunteered, re- 
 cruited, or conscripted. Of these, 359,528 were killed 
 in battle or died of wounds or disease. 
 
 On the 31st of March, 1865, there were on the rolls 
 of the Union army 1,000,516 men; at the same time 
 the cost of the war in treasure had been $3,400,000,000 ! 
 Nearly two and a half millions a day whilst it lasted. 
 The first shot had been effective at the North. But 
 the firing of the first shot had an effect at the South 
 which Lincoln perhaps did not contemplate, though 
 he could not have felt the same shock of surprise which 
 Governor Letcher's manly letter of refusal to furnish 
 Virginia's quota of troops for the Federal Army gave 
 him. It united the South. The people, as one man, 
 said to the Federal authorities, in the words of Gover- 
 nor Letcher, "you have chosen to inaugurate war, and 
 you shall have it." They but repeated Baldwin's re- 
 ply on his return from Washington after the failure 
 of the last effort for peace, "there are no Union men 
 now." Such unity of sentiment, such unanimity of 
 purpose never before existed, I suppose, in a popula- 
 tion of some four million of souls. Men of all classes 
 and conditions vied with each other in offer of self and 
 substance to resist Federal invasion and secure South- 
 ern independence. 
 
 It is not the purpose or within the province of these 
 papers to pursue the history of the protracted — the 
 fearful — war which followed, a veritable battle of the 
 giants, a shock to every instinct of humanity, and a 
 shame to Christian civilization. More than once, when 
 witnessing the bloody horrors of the field of carnage, 
 I have asked myself the question, "Can Central Africa, 
 
190 Sczriify-fizx Years in Old Virginia 
 
 with all the savage cruelty of the brutal nature of its 
 people, exceed this show?" I only propose to recite 
 briefly some account, a bird's-eye view, of the contest 
 as it came within the scope of my observation. 
 
 Five days after the call of Simon Cameron, Secretary 
 of War, for Virginia's quota of troops for Federal ser- 
 vice, the Convention, then in session, passed an or- 
 dinance authorizing and requiring the Governor of the 
 Commonwealth "to call into the service of the State 
 as many volunteers as may be necessary to repel inva- 
 sion, and protect the citizens of the State in the pres- 
 ent emergency." These volunteers were to be receiv- 
 ed in companies and organized into regiments, bri- 
 gades, and divisions, according to the force required. 
 
 On the 2 1 St of April, 1861. the Governor issued the 
 following proclamation : "By virtue of authority vested 
 in the Executive by the Convention. I, John Letcher, 
 Governor of the Commonwealth of \^irginia. do here- 
 by order that each volunteer company equipped and 
 armed, whether infantry, artillery, or riflemen, in the 
 counties lying west of the city of Richmond, between 
 Richmond and the Blue Ridge, and in the Valley of 
 Virginia, from the county of Rockbridge to the Ten- 
 nessee line, establish forthwith, on the lines of 
 speedv communication, a rendezvous, and hold them- 
 selves in readiness for immediate orders: telegraph or 
 send by express to the Executive the names of the 
 captains, number of men. and description of force." 
 But before this, on the 18th, General Wm. B. Talia- 
 ferro was ordered to assemble troops at Norfolk for 
 the purpose of capturing the Gosport Navy Yard. 
 This was done secretly, in hope of getting possession 
 of the valuable stores of ordnance, ammunition, etc., 
 before thev could be destroved bv the Federals. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 The War. 
 
 The Fourth Virginia Battalion Receives Orders — Quartered in Nor- 
 folk—The Companies and Officers — I Accompany the Battalion 
 as Captain and Assistant Surgeon — Am Again Elected to the 
 Senate — Ordered to Take my Seat by the Secretary of War — 
 Obey the Order and Resign, and Apply For Orders For the 
 Army — An Interview — Ordered to Open Hospitals in Peters- 
 burg and Made Surgeon in Charge — Appointed Post Surgeon — 
 How Some Supplies Were Acquired — Events Preceding Siege 
 of Petersburg — Arrival of the Enemy — Incidents of the Siege — ■ 
 Ordered to Remove the Hospital Patients and Correspondence 
 With General Lee — The "Fiasco of the War" — An Adventure 
 Before the Lines of the Enemy — "In Vinculis" — The Crater — 
 General Mahone's Part in the Crater Affair — I am Visited by 
 a Shell at Night — More Incidents of Our Great Generals, and 
 Another of Mahone in Particular — What Manner of Man Was 
 He? What Manner of Men Were They? — Five Forks — Evacua- 
 tion and Events Immediately Following. 
 
 On the 19th of April, 1861, D. A. Weisinger, major 
 of the Fourth Virginia Battalion, made up exclusively 
 of Petersburg troops, was ordered to hold his com- 
 mand in readiness to move at a minute's notice. On 
 the morning of the 20th the command was called 
 out, and marched to the Norfolk and Western depot, 
 where they found a train awaiting them, the engine 
 fired up and pufifing steam, as if awaiting, with the 
 same impatience as the men, the order to start. The 
 destination, of course, was "unknown to the rank and 
 file," but it was an open secret that Norfolk was the 
 destination and the taking of the Navy Yard the duty 
 assig-ned. The troops got off about noon amidst 
 the cheers and tears and prayers of the hundreds 
 who had assembled to see them leave. This was war, 
 suddenly and in earnest, and amongst a people who 
 had known for a third of a century only the blessings 
 
192 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 of peace, and who had seen only the martial parade 
 and heard only the fife and drum of a holiday soldiery. 
 The excitement incident to the scenes of that day can- 
 not be described, as mother, wife, sister caught hold 
 of the soldier hurrying- away to battle, and pressed the 
 last loving kiss to his lips, and as the soldier himself 
 gathered his loved ones in his arms and folded them to 
 his heart in one last embrace. Imagination may paint, 
 but no pen can depict the overwhelming emotions 
 which crowded that hour. Before the battalion em- 
 barked on the cars, the Rev. Dr. Piatt, before referred 
 to in these memoirs, and who himself had been a soldier 
 in the Mexican War, made a short address, and offered 
 prayer that "God would cover the heads of the boys in 
 the day of battle." The companies were then drawn up 
 in double order, the rear rank confronting the first, and 
 the citizens passed through the line, bidding a final fare- 
 well, and begging such blessings upon the soldiers as 
 their tumultuous hearts would permit them to frame. 
 There was no element of humor on the occasion at the 
 time, but a recollection of some of the scenes after- 
 wards made me smile in the days that followed. As 
 the days grew into years, those callow boys, scarred 
 and seamed into veterans by war's rough usage, could 
 recount by the bivouac fire, with a laugh, many a joke 
 upon each other which had its birth upon that solemn 
 morning. "Judgment day," it was yclept in soldier's 
 vernacular, as it was not believed that any day other 
 than the Judgment could ever be ushered in with such 
 overwhelming and stupendous excitement in any class 
 of people, high or low, white or colored. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we reached the South Branch 
 of the Elizabeth River, a few miles from Norfolk, and 
 the troops were ordered out of the train, a line was 
 formed parallel with the road, and for the first time the 
 ball cartridge was rammed home in the bright pieces 
 
The War 193 
 
 which heretofore had only fired blank cartridges in 
 salute. I do not know what were the feelings of any 
 others, but for myself I confess that I realized, as I had 
 not done before, that war was upon us, and that an un- 
 pleasant duty was ours. This feeling was intensified 
 to some extent when Captain Dodson, commanding 
 Co. E, the crack company of the battalion, in a few 
 well-chosen words of encouragement cautioned the 
 men to be "steady, to look along the line of their piece, 
 and to fire low." We had expected to go into battle 
 and to encounter resistance, either before getting to 
 Gosport or in driving the Federals from the Navy Yard 
 by assault — a desperate undertaking for some four hun- 
 dred green troops, whatever their spirit and courage, 
 against marines and trained soldiers of the Regular 
 Army, of whose number we were ignorant, but presum- 
 ably in force sufficient to hold and protect the valuable 
 property which we coveted and were contending for. 
 But there was to be no fight yet, thanks to a strategy 
 of Mahone, then president of the Norfolk and Peters- 
 burg R. R. He had empty cars run to and fro all day 
 for several miles outside of Norfolk, conveying to the 
 Federals the idea of the frequent arrival of troops in 
 num.bers. They, ignorant of what these numbers were, 
 and indisposed to try issue with an unknown foe, hur- 
 riedly fired the Navy Yard, spiked most of the guns, 
 and left for the safe retreat of Fortress Monroe. This 
 maneuver of Mahone showed the instinct of the sol- 
 dier, into which he developed as soon as opportunity 
 ofifered — and opportunities were many before the war 
 was over. It is mild encomium to say that no oppor- 
 tunity was ever lost, and that he developed into one 
 of Lee's most active and trusted lieutenants. We 
 reached Norfolk about dark, to find the enemy gone on 
 board the vessels which they had not burned or scut- 
 tled, and steaming down the river for Old Point Com- 
 
194 Scvcnty-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 fort. That nioht the Ijattahon was quartered in a large 
 empty buildins^ in the city, whilst the staff rested in 
 quiet at the National Hotel. Indeed that was head- 
 quarters for a week or more, although on the next day 
 the battalion was moved out in the neighborhood of 
 the old Fair Grounds. A few days afterwards it was 
 ordered into quarters at Berkley, then little more than 
 a village of straggling houses, and located at the U. S. 
 Marine Hospital, which, on the evacuation of Norfolk, 
 the Federals had left comparatively empty. To this 
 point headquarters were also transferred, where we 
 made ourselves quite comfortable, though not in a style 
 comparable to our first quarters of the first week of our 
 first service in the war between the States. The Fourth 
 Battalion as it left Petersburg consisted of four com- 
 panies of infantry and one company of artillery, and 
 numbered, rank and file, about four hundred men. 
 The companies were — 
 
 The Citv Guards — Capt. John P. May and Lieuts. 
 Chas. E. Waddell and F. AT. Wright. 
 
 A Grays — Capt. Jno. Ivyon and Lieuts. Robert Bow- 
 den and Thos. P. Pollard. 
 
 B Grays— Capt. Thos. A. Bond and Lieuts. L. L. 
 Marks and S. G. White. 
 
 Petersburg Pifles — Capt. Daniel Dodson and Lieuts. 
 P. R. Banks and Jno. R. Patterson. 
 
 The staff consisted of Maj. D. A. \\'eisiger, com- 
 manding; Lieut. W. F. Carter, quartermaster: Lieut. 
 Samuel Stevens, commissary, and Capt. Jno. Herbert 
 Claiborne, assistant surgeon. 
 
 Light Artillery attached to battalion — Capt. J. N. 
 Nichols and TJeut. Edward Graham. This battery 
 was detached from the Fourth Battalion on the day 
 following our arrival at Norfolk, and T saw no more 
 of it until the Qth day of June. 1864. The story of that 
 day will be told later. 
 
The War 195 
 
 The Fourth Battalion as it left Petersburg on the 
 20th of April, 1 86 1, was made up of the flower of the 
 manhood of the Cockade City. After four years of 
 service it had been so decimated by disease, by death, 
 by promotion, and by transfer that it showed scarcely 
 more than a skeleton of the original body. It was the 
 nucleus upon which was formed the famous Twelfth 
 Virginia Regim.ent, whose banner bore the device of 
 almost every field on which the Army of Northern Vir- 
 ginia grappled with the enemy, from Seven Pines to 
 Appomattox, and whose flag, stained with the smoke 
 of battle and shredded by ball and shell, was never sur- 
 rendered, but torn into slips and buried in the bosoms, 
 right over the hearts, of the veteran survivors. On 
 being formed into a regiment, two other companies 
 from Petersburg — the Lafayette Guards, Capt. D. N. 
 Jarvis and Lieut. J. E. Tyler, and the Archer Rifles, 
 Capt. F. H. Archer, Lieuts. J. R. Lewellyn, Douglas 
 Chappell, and D. W. Paul — were attached to it, and also 
 a company from Richmond, the Richmond Grays, and 
 a companv from Greenesville countv, Capt. Everard 
 Field. 
 
 Major VVeisiger was raised to the rank of colonel, 
 with F. A. Taylor, of Gloucester County, as lieutenant- 
 colonel, and Maj. E. Brockett as major. Colonel 
 Weisiger retained the same staff, which went up a 
 grade with him, the lieutenants being raised to the 
 rank of captain, and the surgeon to the rank of major. 
 Dr. J. W. Claiborne, who was a private in Co. E, the 
 Petersburg Rifles, was promoted to the rank of cap- 
 tain and made assistant surgeon. The regiment was 
 then ordered to an entrenched camp, about two miles 
 below Norfolk, which it held, with the Sixth Virginia 
 Regiment, commanded by Col. Wm. Mahone, until the 
 evacuation of Norfolk in the following spring. 
 
196 Scventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 The days spent at these quarters were gala days, and 
 soldiering an idle, and mostly a pleasant, pastime. 
 Guard mounting every morning and dress parade every 
 evening filled the role of duty. Secure and commodi- 
 ous tents, with plank floors, and chimneys during the 
 winter, made everything very cosy and comfortable 
 in quarters — and as for the menu, the regulation ration 
 was not considered. Located near the market of Nor- 
 folk, with its rich stores of fish, flesh, and fowl, with 
 products not yet depleted, and boxes from home sup- 
 plementing any possible want, the inner man did not 
 suffer ; and with books, papers, and periodicals to while 
 away the idle moments, and the frequent visits of the 
 girls to the camps to enliven the scene, soldier life for 
 the first year of the war was very, very tolerable. 
 There was little sickness, and no casualty or death oc- 
 curred in the whole command to mar its symmetry from 
 April, 1 861, to December of the same year, when I was 
 ordered to another field. 
 
 The coming campaign of the following year attested 
 the travesty and the simulation of war of our first year 
 of service. From the opening of the campaign of 1862, 
 and from thenceforth to the tragic end at Appomattox, 
 the Twelfth Virginia knew nothing more of ease, of 
 rest, of comfort ; saw no more holiday soldiering — 
 but WAR, WAR, in all of its terrible earnestness, its 
 privations, its sufferings, in cold and heat, in hunger 
 and sickness, in bivouac, in battle, in wounds, in death. 
 And when overpowered, and the last order from their 
 commander came, "surrender," the little handful left, 
 bereft of all but honor, threw down their arms, still 
 bright and burnished, and accepted the honorable 
 terms which the valor and endurance of the Confeder- 
 ate soldier had exacted from the victors, and returned 
 to their homes to exhibit the same courage and forti- 
 tude in peace in rebuilding their broken fortunes. Here 
 
The IV ar 197 
 
 at Appomattox 1 met again, for the first time in three 
 years, my old comrades, or those of them who had 
 survived those bitter years, and as I had marched with 
 them in all the pride and hope of their early days of 
 soldiering, so I sat down with them at the last in the 
 dust and ashes of final defeat. 
 
 But I anticipate my story. When I left Petersburg 
 with the Fourth Virginia Battalion in April, 1861, my 
 term of service as Senator in the District of Peters- 
 burg and Prince George had expired, and as I had not 
 been in accord with my constituents on the question of 
 secession and the necessity for early and aggressive 
 action, I supposed that my political career was finished. 
 But whilst in the field, and without offering myself for 
 the place, I was again elected to the Senate, my con- 
 stituents recognizing, though too late for the common 
 good, the wisdom of the course which I had counseled, 
 and wishing, I suppose, to compensate me by the com- 
 pHment for the lack of confidence which they had shown 
 in my teachings. In the meantime I was no longer 
 a Virginia soldier nor subject to Virginia authorities. 
 One week after the passage of the Ordinance of Se- 
 cession the Convention of Virginia appointed commis- 
 sioners to meet Vice-President A. H. Stevens, commis- 
 sioner on the part of the Confederate Government, al- 
 ready set up in Alabama, and an agreement was made 
 and ratified whereby the constitution of the Confeder- 
 acy was adopted, and in May the seat of the Confeder- 
 ate Government was removed to Richmond and the 
 troops of the State were transferred to the authorities 
 of the Confederate States. 
 
 When the Legislature of Virginia assembled, there- 
 fore, in December, 1861, it was discovered that none 
 of the soldiers in the field who had been elected to civil 
 oflfice by the people could leave their posts in the Army 
 to take possession of such offices. An officer in the 
 
19^ Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Army could resign his commission and then take civil 
 office, but as I did not choose to resign my commission, 
 I was ordered by the Secretary of War, with other 
 officers who occupied similar positions, to report to 
 Richmond, and take my seat in the Senate of Virgina. 
 I obeyed the order, took my seat in the Senate, wrote 
 my resignation as Senator, and sent it to the President 
 of the Senate. A new election was directed to be held, 
 and on the appearance of my successor, Hon. R. R. 
 Collier, I reported to the Secretary of War, Judah P. 
 Benjamin, for reassignment to duty in the Army. 
 When I called on Mr. Benjamin, and announced my 
 name, he spoke up promptly, saying, ''I ordered you 
 a month ago to take your seat in the Senate of Vir- 
 ginia." How he could have recalled this fact amidst 
 the many more important and urgent matters which 
 demanded his attention, I could never imagine. How- 
 ever, I replied as promptly, that 1 had obeyed his order, 
 taken my seat in the Senate, sent in my resignation, a 
 new election had been held, and that my successor was 
 in the city. He regarded me in rather a quizzical man- 
 ner, as if he thought that I must be a little daft to wish 
 to leave Richmond and to go back to the Army. How- 
 ever, he said nothing more, but wrote an order, and 
 directed me to take it to the Surgeon-General, Dr. 
 S. P. Moore. 1 obeyed this order also, but not so 
 cheerfully. I had had one interview with General 
 Moore, soon after I received my appointment from the 
 Governor of Virginia as surgeon of the Twelfth Vir- 
 ginia Regiment, at which he treated me with such dis- 
 courtesy that I had no wish to meet him again. I was 
 in Richmond on business soon after General Moore 
 had been appointed Surgeon-General, and in obedience 
 to army regulations, called on the chief of my depart- 
 ment, as was required, to pay my respects. He took 
 my card when I handed it to him, and without giving 
 
The War 199 
 
 me any sign of recognition, threw it away. I felt the 
 rudeness keenly, but stood before him unmoved, in- 
 tending to stand in my place all day, if necessary, until 
 I received some notice. After a few minutes he lit a 
 cigarette, which he made extemporaneously, and mo- 
 tioned to me to sit down. That drew my fire, and I 
 said, "Dr. Moore, being in the city of Richmond on 
 business, I have called at the headquarters of the chief 
 of my department to pay my respects as required by 
 army regulations. I have no favors to ask, and with 
 your permission will retire," and without permission, 
 and without saluting, retired. After this first inter- 
 view, I was averse to a second. I presented my order, 
 however, and on this occasion received prompt recog- 
 nition. He asked to what command I belonged, and 
 on noting the regiment, remarked on the exceptionally 
 good report which had been returned from it, that there 
 had been no death from disease in nine months, etc., 
 and then asked me where I was from. He then told 
 me he could not send me back to my old command, 
 but to go home and await orders ; that he wanted me 
 for an especial purpose. I lost no time in withdraw- 
 ing from his presence or in finding my home, but after 
 six weeks of an unasked furlough, for I heard nothing 
 from the Department in tb.at time, I began to feel a 
 decided curiosity to know what "especial purpose" I 
 was wanted for and what was to be my destination, 
 and thinking possibly I had been overlooked or for- 
 gotten, I reported by letter for duty. In a very short 
 time I received a curt reply that I would be "called 
 for when I was wanted." This did not satisfy my 
 curiosity, but it silenced me. I made no further in- 
 quiry of General Moore as to my duty or destination. 
 He was a man of great brusqueness of manner, and 
 gave ofTense to many who called on him. whatever their 
 business, and without anv regard to their station or 
 
200 Scz'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 rank, though he was an able execiitiv^e officer, and T 
 believe an efficient and impartial one. After the war 
 he remained in Richmond, and I am told was a useful 
 and honored citizen. 
 
 Soon after the campaign of 1862 opened on the Pen- 
 insula, I received my orders to secure a suitable build- 
 ing in Petersburg and open a hospital with four hun- 
 dred beds, and to purchase a large amount of ice, as 
 much as could be had. and to house it. I rented a 
 large and comparatively new tobacco factory, known 
 as Ragland's, which stood at the corner of Jones 
 Street and West Washing"ton, just opposite the resi- 
 dence of Hon. W. B. Mcllwaine. It was a three-story 
 building, commodious and well ventilated, and furnish- 
 ed regulation space for about four hundred beds. This 
 I soon fitted up and put in commission. It could not 
 have been better fitted for hospital purposes if it had 
 been built with that view, and had never before seen 
 any hosDital civil or milit;irv, which surpassed it in 
 its appointments. I was made surgeon in charge, and 
 Drs. R. E. Lewis, and G. W. Claiborne, my brother, 
 were sent me as assistant surgeons. Dr. John Chappell 
 was made apothecary and mustered in as hospital 
 steward, and Mr. T. R. Moore chief ward master, and 
 Mr. Jos. Todd commissary, both mustered in as hos- 
 pital stewards. These gentlemen retained their places 
 as long as T was surgeon in charge, for eighteen months 
 or two years, and a more faithful and efficient corps of 
 men could not have been secured. In about twelve 
 months my brother was transferred to the Navy as as- 
 sistant surgeon, but the other gentlemen held their 
 places until the end of the war. 
 
 About six months prior to this a hospital after the 
 pavilion order had been established at West End Park, 
 then the Fair Grounds, known as the Confederate 
 States Hospital, of which Dr. Blackwood Strachan was 
 
The War 201 
 
 the first surgeon in charge. Some six months after- 
 wards he was transferred to the field, and the surgeon 
 and assistant surgeons in charge were often changed. 
 During the winter of 1 861 -'62 the North Carolina Hos- 
 pital was organized and commissioned in Cameron's 
 Factory, and the South Carolina Hospital in Osborne 
 and Chieves' Factory, now John H. Machn & Son's, 
 and the Virginia Hospital in Watson and McGill's Fac- 
 tory, then known as Robert Leslie's. 
 
 In 1862 Dr. Peter Hines, in charge of the North 
 Carolina Hospital, being senior surgeon, was made Sur- 
 geon of the Post, and all the hospitals were under his 
 care, and all reports and requisitions were made 
 through him. In 1863 he was ordered to Raleigh and 
 I was appointed Senior Surgeon, or Post Surgeon, a 
 position which I held until the retreat of Lee's army in 
 April, 1863, with the exception of three months of sick- 
 ness, when Dr. Douglass, of Georgia, took my place. 
 
 My family, which had been refugeeing in Louisburg, 
 North Carolina, during my absence from home early 
 in the war, were now brought home, and my life was 
 as comfortable as the privations and perils of war 
 permitted. Rations were light, provisions of all sorts 
 scarce, luxuries unknown, and clothing without suspi- 
 cion of style or fashion. Cut ofif by the blockade from 
 foreign supplies, we were dependent upon home re- 
 sources, already overtaxed and imperfect, for almost 
 everything. Only cornbread, peas, and sorghum were 
 plentiful. The latter took the place of molasses, and 
 at the same time was known as "long sweetening," 
 in the place of sugar, for our coffee, which consisted 
 of parched rye or dried sweet potatoes. It was also 
 the saccharine element of the "pies" without which 
 the soldier's menu was never complete, and for which 
 his appetite seemed insatiable, they being the first 
 investment from his meagre pay. Only the blockade 
 
202 Scrcjify-iiir Years in Old Virginia 
 
 runners, or tlieir intimate friends, could indulge in the 
 luxuries of eating and drinking, or in the display of 
 fine clothes. 
 
 A great many adventures were made in shipping 
 cotton and tol)acco from this city and from Richmond 
 through the blockade ?it Wilmington; and when a ves- 
 sel successfully made the voyage to Nassau, the near- 
 est British port, and more successfully returned, laden 
 with articles of prime demand, the Government very 
 properly was the first purchaser, and thus supplies for 
 the Army, and especially for the hospitals, were often 
 gotten. Hospital supplies were especially difificult to 
 procure, and our refined and Christian enemies, who 
 had made such articles as chloroform, morphine, qui- 
 nine, and indeed everything which could solace human 
 sufifering or save human life, — whether of man, wo- 
 man, or child, — contraband of war, gloated over the 
 capture of a blockade-runner carrying such cargo, as 
 ghouls ravishing the graves of the dead. However, 
 we kept, during the last year of the war, and especially 
 during the siege of Petersburg, fairly supplied with 
 some of these essentials. I had men in my service 
 whilst I was chief of all the Military General Hospitals, 
 during the siege, who discovered that cupidity had not 
 been eliminated from the Christian virtues of all of our 
 enemies, and many a good trade was effected, nearer 
 home than Nassau, of tobacco, snuff, and cotton yarns 
 for quinine, morphine, and chloroform. 
 
 When in June, 1864, the Army of Northern Virginia 
 filed into the trenches at Petersburg, and more than 
 fifty thousand men were added to the population of 
 the city, and the daily casualties called for more hos- 
 pital service, the difficulties of meeting the exigencies 
 entailed thereby were of course greatly increased. But 
 with the help of a most efficient corps of assistants, T 
 am sure [ can sav that the sick and wounded did not 
 
The War 20^ 
 
 suffer for anything necessary to their comfort. I had 
 one assistant especially, Sergeant Joseph Todd, who, as 
 a forager, could ferret out any food to be found in the 
 city or its vicinage. His genius in that direction 
 amounted to instinct, and to the last day of the occu- 
 pancy of the city by Lee's army he never failed to re- 
 spond to any call. And when money — the money 
 which we received from the Government for the pur- 
 chase of supplies — failed to procure them, I made re- 
 quisition for tobacco and cotton yarns, and in any 
 quantity I thought necessary, the Department never 
 failing to honor the requisition, and putting these ar- 
 ticles in the hands of Mr. Todd, I never feared for re- 
 sults. After the war he went to Baltimore, and I heard 
 obtained the place of purveyor or steward to the 
 Maryland General Hospital, in w^hich I am sure he 
 illustrated his peculiar talents. 
 
 After the arrival of Lee's army my duties as senior 
 or executive officer were greatly increased, and my 
 position was neither safe nor a sinecure. From the 
 first day of the occupation of the city to the last, I had 
 no further opportunity of taking a knife in my hand or 
 of administering a dose of physic. I received my first 
 introduction to my new duties on the third or fourth 
 day of General Lee's arrival. 
 
 The enemy had reached Petersburg on the afternoon 
 or evening of the 15th of June, 2^,000 infantry, under 
 General Smith, and extending their lines parallel with 
 our works from near the Appomattox River to the 
 farm of Colonel Avery, about two miles southeast of y 
 the city, had opened their fire upon the few troops in 
 our trenches — 2,200 of all arms, including old men 
 and boys — and had nearly swept them ofif the earth. 
 They did not assault, however, nor even the next morn- 
 ing, when we had fewer still to oppose them ; but ac- 
 cording to their own historian, Swintpn, and to Gen- 
 
204 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 eral Grant's expressed disgust, awaited the arrival of 
 General Lee, whose forces only entered the trenches 
 at eleven or twelve o'clock, replacing the gallant men 
 who for twenty-four hours held their position against 
 such odds. Lee dismissed the boys and old men of the 
 militia with cheers. 
 
 But still the enemy did not assault, but entrenching 
 themselves, though outnumbering the besieged army 
 five to one, they commenced the tactics of moving on 
 the left flank which they had inaugurated at the Wilder- 
 ness a month before. They reported in these move- 
 ments, which they termed assault, a loss of 11,400 men 
 in three days, and got another lesson in war which 
 they had been slow to learn, besides the loss of 60,- 
 000 from the Wilderness to their present base, a loss of 
 men greater in number than General Lee had in the 
 whole army with which he had opposed them. They 
 had made their last assault at Cold Harbor, a few days 
 before reaching Petersburg, when with 80,000 men 
 they rushed on our extemporized works, and in less than 
 an hour lost 6,000 men killed and 12,000 wounded, and 
 refused to assault again. It is said when an assault was 
 afterwards ordered at Petersburg that General Meade 
 replied, "it is useless to order it, these men will not 
 do it." 
 
 But I diverge from the story of my personal trans- 
 fer of duty, and, I might add, my personal contact with 
 General Lee — not introduction, as I did not have that 
 honor until some time afterwards. As soon as the 
 enemy brought up their siege guns, or heavy artillery, 
 which was only a few days after taking their position, 
 they opened on the city with shell without the slight- 
 est notice, or without giving opportunity for the re- 
 moval of non-combatants, the sick, the wounded, or the 
 women and children out of range of fire. The fire at 
 first seemed chiefly directed toward the Old Market, 
 
The War 205 
 
 presumably on account of the South Side Railroad de- 
 pot, which was situated near there, and about which 
 troops would naturally be collected. But they soon 
 enlarged their operations, and swept Bollingbrook and 
 Lombard Streets, Bank Street and lower High Street, 
 and Sycamore Street as high as the corner of Wash- 
 ington. The steeples of Tabb Street Presbyterian, St. 
 Paul's Episcopal, and Washington Street Methodist 
 Churches offered targets for their fire, and the Post 
 Office and Custom House also came in for their part 
 of the compliment. 
 
 To persons unfamiliar with the infernal noise made 
 by the screaming, the ricochetting, and the bursting of 
 shells, it is impossible to describe the terror and the 
 demoralization which was immediately created. The 
 shelling on the first day continued only for a few hours 
 in the morning, though subsequently we were treated 
 usually with a morning and evening serenade. Many 
 of the citizens left at once, not standing upon the order 
 of their going, and fled to the country to the west of 
 the city wherever they could find a house to harbor 
 them. Others left more leisurely, taking a few neces- 
 sary articles of furniture, and made themselves as com- 
 fortable as possible under the circumstances, whilst 
 others, whose homes were least exposed to the fire, 
 made bomb-proofs in their yards or gardens, into which 
 they betook themselves as soon as the firing began, 
 and from which they would emerge when it was over, 
 and return to their usual business. It usually con- 
 tinued for only two or three hours. 
 
 These bomb-proofs were holes dug in the ground 
 about five or six feet deep, of dimensions commen- 
 surate with the number of persons .they were sup- 
 posed to accommodate, and were covered with heavy 
 timbers, and these with earth, the door or entrance 
 facing to the west, the direction opposite the batteries 
 
2o6 Sci'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 from which the shells came. Some of these bomb- 
 proofs were made quite comfortable, and ladies could 
 take a book or their sewing into them. But though 
 some parts of the city were more exposed and more 
 unsafe than others, yet it was evident that no portion 
 of it was secure from danger, and General Lee, calling 
 attention to this fact, directed me on the 3rd or 4th day 
 of his arrival to empty every hospital, and to remove 
 the sick and wounded, with hospital stores, furniture, 
 attaches, etc., and place them on the cars of the South- 
 side R. R., their destination not committed to me. 
 
 There were then about three thousand on the morn- 
 ing roll from the hospitals. To remove this number 
 with the limited means of transportation at hand was 
 no small job. I commenced the work promptly, how- 
 ever, but on the second or third day some surgeon who 
 thought his wounded were not being moved with suf- 
 ficient alacrity, reported the fact, and I received a mes- 
 sage from General Lee that he "hoped it would not be 
 necessary to order me a second time to remove the 
 wounded from under fire." I knew pretty well where 
 the complaint came from, as it was reported that morn- 
 ing that a shell had fallen in one of the hospitals, and 
 that a soldier had taken it up and thrown it out of a 
 window before it exploded. This incident, of course, 
 was demoralizing, but every effort was being made to 
 remove the wounded as soon as possible, and I thought 
 it ungenerous in one of my corps of assistants to make 
 such a report. I replied to General Lee that every 
 effort was being made to comply with his order, but 
 with the limited means at hand three thousand sick and 
 wounded men could not be removed very expeditiously 
 and that many could not be moved without more 
 danger to their lives than they risked from the shell. 
 Then came a rejoinder from the General that after no 
 battle which he had ever fought "were there three 
 
The IV ar 207 
 
 thousand men who conld not be moved." To which I 
 repHed, calHng his attention to the fact that men just 
 wounded in battle and falling in full strength and 
 health would easily bear transportation, but that the 
 men whom I was called upon to move at this juncture 
 were men who had lain in Hospital, many of them for 
 months, debilitated from the heat and festering wounds, 
 or from sickness, and that some of them would die upon 
 the stretchers if taken out ; that two had already died, 
 and many had begged to be permitted to take their 
 chances with the shells rather than to be taken away; 
 and asking that he send inspectors from his staff to 
 relieve me and to take charge of the work. He sent 
 Majors Breckenridge and Winfield, who, after seeing 
 the situation, not only declined to relieve me, but made 
 their report and advised that the whole matter be left 
 to my discretion. 
 
 I removed in a few days all that would bear transpor- 
 tation, and reserved the Confederate States Hospital, 
 and the hospitals at West End Park, and the Central 
 Pavilion, reporting that they were but little exposed 
 to fire, and that I thought it judicious to keep these 
 hospitals open for the desperately wounded that were 
 now coming in daily from the lines. The General ac- 
 cepted the report. I presume, as I never heard any- 
 thing more from it, and received no further order to 
 remove the wounded or to close the hospitals. The 
 hospital at Central Park I did not close until after the 
 fight at the Crater on the 30th of July following. This 
 hospital was reserved mostly for the wounded Federal 
 prisoners, and with the Federal wounded brought in 
 from the Crater it was crowded even beyond its ca- 
 pacity, and it was impossible to supply medical oiifi- 
 cers to take charge of those needing immediate atten- 
 tion. 
 
2o8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 There v^tere five Federal surgeons, prisoners taken 
 not at the Crater, but belonging I think to Wilson's 
 Cavalry Raiders, which Fitz Lee had cornered and cut 
 to pieces, or captured, near Reams Station a few days 
 before. I approached these doctors and asked them if 
 they would not like to take a hand in some surgery, 
 offering them as inducement all the Hberty and privil- 
 eges compatible with the rules of war. They said they 
 would be glad to do so, and I put them to work in the 
 hospital under Dr. Robert Page, who was the Confed- 
 erate surgeon, allowing them a detail of Federal un- 
 wounded prisoners to act as nurses and assistants, and 
 directing Dr. Page to make requisition for all the 
 chloroform, morphine, etc., which they might need. 
 The wounded prisoners, mostly negroes, were being 
 brought back and laid on the grass preparatory to ex- 
 amination, and such operations as seemed necessary. 
 
 I did not visit the hospital until the next day about 
 noon, when I received a message from Mr. George W. 
 Boiling, whose mansion was very near the hospital, 
 telling me that he thought "I had better look after mat- 
 ters there." On reaching the place I was shocked be- 
 yond expression to find about an hundred and fifty 
 wounded negroes, who had been brought in since I left, 
 and were lying about on the grounds, most of them 
 naked; and with every conceivable form of wounds 
 and mutilation, were shrieking, praying, and cursing 
 in their agony and dehrium, their wounds undressed 
 and festering under a summer sun. My first thought 
 was, "is this Christian civilization." 
 
 The Federal surgeons whom I had engaged the day 
 before were lounging in front of their quarters, doing 
 nothing. Dr. Page, a sturdy and reliable officer, but 
 not a mild-mannered man, was in altercation with 
 them, using language more pertinent to the occasion 
 than polite, and after suppressing him I took a turn 
 
The War 209 
 
 myself, and pointing to the scene of horror, the result 
 of their neglect, asked them what it meant, reminding 
 them of their promise to take charge of their wounded 
 and of the especial privileges accorded to them. Their 
 spokesman replied that they "were sick, and tired, and 
 disgusted, and that they were prisoners of war, and 
 were not in duty bound to do any work." "Very well," 
 1 replied, "but you should have said this yesterday when 
 I approached you. As prisoners of war I know very 
 well what to do with you," and calling an orderly di- 
 rected him to go to Major Bridgeforth, General Lee's 
 provost marshal and ask him to send me a sergeant and 
 a guard to take away five medical officers. One of 
 them asked immxcdiately, "Major, where are you going 
 to send us?" "To the prison at Andersonville, Geor- 
 gia, to-morrow morning," I replied. "Do not send 
 me," he said, "give me another opportunity," a request 
 which they all joined in, "give us another opportunity." 
 1 was but too ready to acquiesce, as I could not pos- 
 sibly, with the medical force under my orders, have 
 given prompt attention to these poor creatures, and I 
 gave them the opportunity. The next morning every- 
 thing was in ship-shape order. Surgery had triumphed 
 and all the survivors were comfortably bedded in the 
 hospital. i\mong the requisitions necessary to render 
 them presentable was one for one hundred and fifty 
 suits of underclothes to replace those stolen from them 
 during the first night of their captivity, and before they 
 came under the hospital guard. 
 
 After a few days, and before I could remove the pa- 
 tients, miy surgeon friends complained that they had 
 nothing out of which to eat the poor fare furnished 
 them except tin dishes and tin cups; moreover, that 
 their quarters v/ere not safe from shelling or even bul- 
 lets ; and finally, that white and colored soldiers were 
 bunked together indiscriminately in adjoining beds. 
 li 
 
210 Sci'ciiiy-fii'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 I gravely asked them to submit their grievances in 
 writing, and that I would forward the paper to head- 
 quarters, which I did without comment, knowing very 
 well what the result would be. On receiving the paper, 
 General Lee sent ]\Iajor Breckenridge, of his staff, to 
 investigate the matters of complaint. I never heard 
 what report he made to the General, and presume, 
 from the line of remark which was submitted to the 
 complainants, that he exonerated me. He said to them 
 in language as polite as the peculiar circumstances 
 would permit, that it came with bad grace from men 
 who had marauded the surrounding country with Wil- 
 son's Raiders, destroying the food of the innocent and 
 unarmed people, pillaging where anything was left to 
 pillage, stealing and carrying away spoons and table 
 ware, and breaking such v;are as they could not carry 
 away, to complain that they had but little to eat, and no 
 vessel out of which to eat it. Moreover, that in being 
 assigned to hospital treatment. General Lee had or- 
 dered that no distinction be shown between white sol- 
 diers and colored soldiers, that if they could fight side 
 by side, they could sleep side by side. To the last sub- 
 ject of complaint, that it was not a safe place, but ex- 
 posed to occasional fire, I called them to note that the 
 missiles endangering their lives endangered ours also, 
 and that they were not fired by our men, but theirs, 
 who knew as well as we where the yellow flag floated, 
 or, if ignorant of our locality, I would but be too glad 
 to send a flag of truce to signify our position. Soon 
 after this date the hospital was closed, the sick and 
 wounded transferred to other hospitals, and the pris- 
 oners who were well, including the surgeons, were 
 turned over to the provost marshal. I never knew 
 anything more of their fate. 
 
 Two other hospitals were kept open, however, and 
 were constantly filled to their utmost capacity with the 
 
The War 211 
 
 ill and badly wounded. Besides this, many private resi- 
 dences were opened to soldiers and officers who could 
 not get hospital room, or who were fortunate enough 
 to have friends in circumstances to receive and take 
 care of them. Many soldiers owed their lives to the 
 tender ministrations of women, who in their own 
 homes nursed them and shared with them their little 
 store of food. And if there ho. a God who looks down 
 from heaven and registers such deeds of love in His 
 Book, many an entrance has been already administered 
 by the Master to them who gave the "cup of cold water 
 in His name." 
 
 We have spoken of the failure of the Federal army 
 to enter Petersburg on the night of the 15th of June 
 and morning of the i6th, — it could hardly be said to 
 take Petersburg, when so little resistance could be 
 made, — a failure which their own historians denomi- 
 nated the "fiasco of the war." But there were two other 
 occasions on which an entrance could have been effect- 
 ed even more easily. On one occasion, during the first 
 week in May, 1864, about the 6th or 7th, I think, But- 
 ler, after landing at Bermuda Hundred, where he had 
 been sent by General Grant to lead a column against 
 Richmond on the south side of the James, where the 
 Army of the Potomac had fought its way down from 
 the Wilderness on the north side, dispatched a brigade 
 of troops to threaten Petersburg from the Richmond 
 Turnpike. This force reached Swift Creek, and halted 
 on the hill, just north of the bridge on the turnpike 
 which spans that stream. Had they pushed on imme- 
 diately I do not know what force we could have mus- 
 tered to oppose them, but fortunately troops from the 
 south had been ordered to Beauregard, who was hold- 
 ing Butler in check in his "on to Richmond" from the 
 south side of James River, and a regiment from South 
 Carolina, the Twenty-second, I believe, Colonel Hey- 
 
212 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 ward, arrived in Petersburg just at the right time and 
 was hurried through the city to the scene of action. 
 After a hurried march of three miles which brought 
 them to the bridge, they crossed and charged up the 
 hill to find they had encountered a whole brigade of 
 Yankees. There was a fierce fight, and the houses on 
 the pike, especially the old Arrow-field Church, showed 
 the marks of the contest for many years after the war. 
 The South Carolinians were terribly cut up, but they 
 held their own and drove the enemy, or at least the 
 enemy retired, as far as Walthall Station, or its vicinity, 
 on the Richmond and Petersburg Railroad. 
 
 The next day another regiment from South Carolina, 
 Colonel Graham, arrived, and Hankin's Battery of light 
 artillery from Sussex or Surry County, Virginia. I 
 showed these troops out of the city in the direction of 
 the enemy, and the following day battle \\ as renewed 
 at Port Walthall, with the lines of the enemy on the 
 east and ours on the west of the railroad to the north of 
 the station. The battle must have been very hotly con- 
 tested, and at very close quarters, judging from the 
 positions of the dead and the accounts of the wounded. 
 Night closed the affair and both parties fell back; our 
 troops for nearly two miles, the enemy not so far. The 
 next morning a countryman came into the city and said 
 that the wounded were still uncared for and were cry- 
 ing for help. Taking a surgeon, an ambulance, and 
 one or two hospital stewards, I started for the battle- 
 field. Upon reaching our line, about two miles from 
 the scene of the fight of the day before, I was told that 
 the enemy was somewhere before me, but no one 
 seemed to know where. Taking, by permission, a 
 dozen of Bearing's Cavalry, which had been brought 
 up, I proceeded, showing them out to the right, wl-Lere 
 I thought the enemy would be found, if in the vicinity. 
 I went nearly two miles, when 1 came to a large open 
 
The War 213 
 
 field, where I could see the white tlags (handkerchiefs 
 on ramrods), and could hear the calls of the wounded. 
 Dismissing my escort, believing that on my mission I 
 would be safer without them, I followed the turnpike 
 until I came to where the railroad crossed it, and found 
 myself on the extreme right of their line, and left of 
 ours, where the battle had evidently been the hottest. 
 Here the dead and the wounded of both parties lay not 
 an hundred yards apart. But the wounded were Fed- 
 erals exclusively, our wounded having been taken away 
 I suppose by our surgeons. Moreover, I discovered 
 that we were technically within the Federal line, as 
 they, or their pickets, could be seen under cover of 
 wood, not a mile distant. My first thought was to 
 leave and get out of sight with my Httle party, but the 
 wounded begged me not to leave them to die without 
 an effort to save them. I referred them to their own 
 surgeons, who had left them, but who were not far ofif, 
 and would probably return for them. "No," they said, 
 "they left us last night, and they are afraid of being 
 killed or captured if they return." "Well," I answered, 
 "who is to insure that we shall not be killed or captur- 
 ed? Your men are in sight." However, they begged 
 so earnestly that we could not resist their importu- 
 nities, so we got them together under the shade of a 
 tree, and gave them water and brandy, preparatory to 
 getting them away. 
 
 Though only the 7th or 8th of May, it was one of the 
 hottest days I ever felt, and I was lying down in the 
 shade, almost overcome with heat, after the work, when 
 I heard a tipping in a dense little piece of wood near 
 me, and the next minute a Confederate officer and a 
 file of men stepped out of the bushes, and the latter 
 brought their pieces up as if to fire on me. "Don't 
 fire," I shouted. "Who are you?" asked the officer. 
 "A Confederate surgeon," I replied, "trying to help 
 
214 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 these poor wounded men." "You look d — d little like 
 it," he returned, and his doubts were reasonable. I 
 wore only a linen short coat and a pair of blue trous- 
 ers, with gold braid, and was amongst men in full 
 Yankee uniform. I then gave him my name and rank, 
 and told him his. (I knew him.) He was a Captain 
 Woolrich, of that county, belonging to the Thirtv- 
 second Virginia, I think, and knowing the locality well 
 was scouting for Beauregard trying to find the enemy. 
 I said to him, "You have found the enemy now. They 
 are in that body of pines in the distance, and I beg 
 that you will take your men back under cover, or you 
 may draw their fire on us. He had discovered all that 
 he wished, and, saluting, left me. The men were all 
 badly wounded, and one or two died before we could 
 get them away. On the extreme right of the Federal 
 line a gun had been disabled by our fire, but must have 
 been gallantly defended before it was abandoned, as the 
 dead lay, some piled on, others about it. On pulling 
 ofif the bodies to see if any were still alive, some papers 
 dropped from the pocket of a young lieutenant, 
 amongst which was a letter addressed to a lady in Bre- 
 men, and written in the German language. On read- 
 ing it, I found it was to his betrothed. In it he informed 
 her that his term of service had expired, and that he 
 should leave for New York City, giving her the street 
 and the number where she should meet him on her 
 arrival in this country. Poor fellow ! This was his last 
 fight, into which he went, no doubt, voluntarily, as he 
 was about to leave the Army. I made an attempt to 
 send this letter through the lines, but I do not know 
 whether it reached its destination and carried the sad 
 news which I indorsed on it, or whether she read the 
 fate of her love amongst the cold items of the "dead" 
 at the battle of Walthall's Station. One of the wound- 
 ed that we picked up and brought off was a tall, red- 
 
The War 215 
 
 headed captain from Connecticut, his arm shot off at 
 the shoulder joint. Though desperately wounded, he 
 had not lost his pluck, and the first question was, 
 "What fool fought that artillery of yours yesterday?" 
 On questioning him as to what he meant, he replied 
 that "he knew no more about his business than a school 
 boy. He fought his guns right up to our lines." 
 "Well," I said, "he seemed to have done some execu- 
 tion." "Yes." he replied, "and we did some execu- 
 tion also." This was but too evident. 
 
 The yellow, butternut clothes and stitched-down 
 shoes of Hankin's artillerists as their dead lay almost 
 amongst their enemies, bore sad and striking contrast 
 to the gaily-decked dead of the enemy. The Federal 
 troops were of regiments which had been brought 
 around from Florida, and their uniforms were bright 
 and new. One man, especially, I noted amongst the 
 dead in a position which I did not believe any dead man 
 could maintain, and I thought he was alive until I went 
 to him. He was sitting up, leaning his back against a 
 tuffet of stiff bamboos, with his gun in his grasp as if 
 about to discharge it. He had been shot through the 
 breast, and his tin cup attached to his belt had caught 
 his blood. His dress was not that of a private soldier, 
 nor of an officer, but it was simply elegant, and his fine 
 shirt was an article to be coveted by a poor Confeder- 
 ate. Some one had taken his shoes, which were the 
 only articles about his person that had been disturbed. 
 
 Our Connecticut captain maintained his bravado to 
 the last. When, on getting him to the city, some ladies 
 offered him wine and such delicacies as they had, as 
 they often did to the wounded when brought in, ir- 
 respective of the color of the jacket, he scornfully re- 
 plied, "No, keep your good things for your Rebel 
 brethren, they will need all they can get before they 
 get through with this scrap." He died that night. 
 
2i6 Scventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Maj. Hankins, a modest and gallant gentleman, who 
 commanded the artillery that did such execution at 
 close quarters, lived through the war to be killed soon 
 after its close in a personal rencontre in Surry county. 
 
 I never knew who commanded the infantry in that 
 fight. They were greatly outnumbered by Butler's 
 forces, but they drove these back upon their base on 
 James River, and joining Beauregard at Chester and 
 Centralia, participated a short time afterwards in the 
 heavy fighting near Drewry's Bluff, by which Beaure- 
 gard "bottled up Butler" at Bermuda. 
 
 Another occasion on which the enemy in overwhelm- 
 ing force failed to get to Petersburg was on the 9th of 
 June following the preceding attempt. This day has 
 been one of sacred memory since, and annually, in com- 
 memoration thereof, the people of Petersburg lay aside 
 their cares, their duties, and their pleasures, and as- 
 semble at the old Blandford Cemetery to deck with 
 flowers the graves of their martyred dead, and to give 
 thanks to God for the special deliverance vouchsafed 
 unto the city at that time, and continued in so many 
 miraculous ways during the interim of war which for 
 eleven long months was waged to the very lintels of 
 their doors. It is a day made historic by noble deeds, 
 whose recital, handed down from father to son, stirs 
 the blood to proud and patriotic resolve. And well 
 may it be so ; and long may it be so ! 
 
 Butler, in further futile attempts to capture Peters- 
 burg, had sent a brigade under General Kautz, from 
 City Point in a southeasterly direction, expecting them 
 to reach the city from the Jerusalem Plank Road. 
 News was brought that morning from our scouts that 
 a column of Federal troops was in motion and was 
 under orders to approach the city from the direction 
 indicated. The Court-House bell was rung about nine 
 o'clock in the morning, and couriers were dispatched 
 
7' he War 217 
 
 Lo get together all the local militia, old men passed the 
 age, and boys too young to be enlisted in the regular 
 service, with any convalescents at the hospital well 
 enough to bear arms, and any other men willing to 
 volunteer, and to order them to repair at once to our 
 works near the Rives House on the Jerusalem Plank 
 Road, about a mile from the corporation line, and to 
 report to Col. F. H. Archer, who was in command of 
 a small force at that point. Hon. Anthony Keiley, now 
 one of the judges of the International Court in Alex- 
 andria, Egypt, at that time a member of the General 
 Assembly of Virginia, and exempt from military rule, 
 happened to be in the city, and volunteered in the 
 fight. He was captured, and whilst in prison he wrote 
 a most graphic account of the affair, "In Vinculis," 
 which was published after his release. I reproduce it 
 in part, as follows : 
 
 I was sitting in my office, peacefully engaged, and endeavoring to 
 extract from the Richmond papers, just received, something like an 
 idea of the situation, when, as though our city were blest with a 
 patent fire telegraph, all the available bell metal in the corporation 
 broke into chorus with so vigorous a peal and clangor so resonant 
 as to suggest to the uninitiated a general conflagration. ♦ * * The 
 general understanding, if not order, was that this signal, theretofore 
 consecrated to the enunciation of fire, should thenceforth in Peters- 
 burg serve the purpose further of heralding the approach of another 
 devouring element— the Yankees. Thus it came to pass that in most 
 indecent haste I let fall my journals and went into the street, to 
 learn from the first excited passer-by that the enemy's cavalry, to 
 the number of twenty thousand, so ran the tale, were approaching 
 the city and were already within two miles of where my informant 
 stood. The usual discount of seventy-five per cent still left the tale 
 uncomfortable to a degree. "What forces have we on the Jerusa- 
 lem Plank Road [the road by which they were approaching], do 
 you know?" I questioned. "Not a d — n man [we had not had, I re- 
 mark parenthetically, a revival of religion in our town for some time, 
 and Confederate whiskey would make a nun swear] except Archer's 
 Battalion, and not a hundred and fifty of them," was the reply. 
 [Archer's Battalion consisted of old men past sixty and boys under 
 eighteen.] 
 
 I immediately turned my face in the direction of Archer's Bat- 
 talion, but a mile southeast from the cemetery, and on reaching there 
 
2i8 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 found all in preparation. Reporting to the first captain I met he 
 made the obvious suggestion that I should get a musket, and I has- 
 tened to the ordnance officer to supply myself. This gentleman cour- 
 teously invited me to make an intelligent choice between three speci- 
 mens of smoothbore military architecture known in the army as "al- 
 tered percussions." One of these formidable arquebuses had a trig- 
 ger with so weak a spring that the lenderest cap ever turned out of 
 a laboratory would successfully resist its pressure ; the second was 
 so rusty that its ramrod shrank from sounding its oxidized depths; 
 while the third proved on examination to be so bent and wrenched 
 that you could not see daylight through it when the breech-pin was 
 unscrewed ! I now began to be overwhelmed with the apprehension 
 that I was destined to act exclusively as a lay figure in the drama 
 about to be put upon the boards, when a friend, commiserating my 
 perplexity, handed me a gun left in his tent by a comrade that morn- 
 ing who had gone to town on leave. Armed and equipped as the law 
 directs, I stepped forward to the breast-works. 
 
 We had not long to wait. A cloud of dust at our front told of the 
 hurried advance of cavalry, and the next instant the glitter of spur 
 and scabbard revealed to us a long line of horsemen rapidly deploying 
 under cover of wood that ran parallel to our line about half a mile 
 in front of us. Our venerable muskets were not worth a tinker's im- 
 precation at a longer range than a hundred yards, and we w-ere com- 
 pelled per force to watch the preparations for our capture or 
 slaughter. * * * 
 
 The enemy determined to feel us with a small portion of its com- 
 mand, and on came at a sweeping gallop a gallant company of 
 troopers. * * * We possessed our souls in patience till we could 
 see the chevrons on the arm of a non-commissioned officer who led 
 them (a brave fellow), and then there broke forth from such amiable 
 muskets as could be induced to go off a discharge that scattered the 
 cavaliers like chaflf, three riderless horses being all of the expedition 
 that entered our lines. Meanwhile the long line of foemen were 
 stretching around us, many fold more than we in numbers, and armed 
 with special rifles repeating sixteen times. And there we fought 
 them till we were so surrounded that the two men nearest to me were 
 shot in the back while facing the line of original approach ; till our 
 camp in the rear of the works was full of the foe; till the noblest 
 blood of our city stained the clay of the breast-works as they gave 
 out their lives with gun in hand and face forward on the spot where 
 their officers placed them. * * * Their faces rise before me now, 
 all gallant gentlemen and true, one of whnsc lives was well worth a 
 hecatomb of the bummers and bounty-jumpers before them. One by 
 one my comrades fell around me, Dr. Bellingham the last; and as I 
 turned at his request and stooped to change his position to one of 
 greater comfort, the enemy trooped over the earthwork behind me, 
 and the foremost one, presenting his loaded carbine, demanded my 
 surrender with an unrepeatable violence of language that suggested 
 bloodshed. 
 
The War 219 
 
 All avenue of escape being cut off, I yielded with what grace I 
 could to my fate, captive to a hatchet-faced member of the First 
 District Cavalry, greatly enamored of this opportunity of going to 
 the rear.* 
 
 The old men and boys who made this defense, un- 
 paralleled in this or any other war, belonged to the best 
 citizens whom the city of Petersburg and its vicinage 
 could claim — men and boys who had behind them moth- 
 ers, wives, sisters, sweethearts, whose fate in case of 
 falling in the hands of the enemy was foreshadowed in 
 the cruel orders of Dahlgren's Raiders, f They had the 
 highest incitement to hold their positions, even unto 
 death, and nobly they filled the fatal requirement of 
 duty. They fought — one hundred and twenty-five, 
 badly armed, and untrained, and behind their frail de- 
 fense — one hundred and twenty-five against two thou- 
 sand three hundred of the enemy, until, as Mr. Keiley 
 says, "surrounded, men fighting the enemy before 
 them were shot in the back by the enemy behind them." 
 But with their blood they held the enemy at bay for 
 nearly two hours, until the impetuous Graham, himself 
 a Petersburg boy, who had been hurriedly sent for 
 from the forces in Chesterfield, dashed through the 
 streets of the city at full gallop, with his four guns that 
 he had carried away three years before, at the very be- 
 ginning of the war; and the gallant Bearing with his 
 intrepid troopers following just after him. They 
 
 *As a peculiar incident belonging to this affair, I will note that 
 Professor Staubly, one of the volunteer militia who fell in the fight, 
 was a particular friend of Colonel Dahlgren, of the Federal army, 
 who had lost his life a few days before in a raid which had for 
 its object the capture of Richmond, and who had upon his person 
 orders, in case he succeeded, to kill President Davis and the mem- 
 bers of his Cabinet, and to give the city over to sack and pillage. 
 Professor Staubly steadily refused to believe that his friend Dahlgren 
 could be guilty of so atrocious a design, and at the time that he fell 
 had an application filed with the Confederate authorities, asking per- 
 mission to find and return Dahlgren's body to his friends. 
 
 t See Appendix. 
 
220 Scvcnty-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 formed on Cemetery Hill, and, later on at Water 
 Works Hill, sent a few well-directed shells into the head 
 of the Federal column, and drove them ignominiously 
 back from the coveted prize of "beauty and booty" 
 which they thought they held in their dastardly hands. 
 
 The names of the men and boys who made this 
 memorable fight are written in imperishable record 
 in the archives of the city, and, better, in the hearts of 
 hundreds of the helpless ones who were rescued that 
 day from a calamity worse than death. After thirty- 
 eight years but few of that Httle band of men or officers 
 are left to recall the tragic scenes of that summer's day ; 
 but one, the undaunted leader, even then gray-haired 
 and a veteran of the Mexican War, still lives and moves 
 amongst us, honored, as he deserves to be, an example 
 of the Christian citizen without cant, and the Christian 
 soldier without fear, Col. F. H. Archer.* 
 
 When General Lee reached Petersburg the day after 
 General Smith, with his thirty thousand troops, had 
 failed to enter the almost defenseless city, and con- 
 fronted the Federal forces encircling it with their lines 
 of ditch and fosse and dirt, it is said to have been a 
 question mooted amongst those in authority whether 
 the Confederate forces should not attack Grant's army 
 with vigor at once and, forcing back his extreme right 
 near Hare's farm, thrust themselves between the re- 
 mainder of his army and their base at City Point, and 
 thus compel them to surrender. It was said that Beau- 
 regard urged this course upon Lee, telling him that his 
 army was flushed with continuous victory from the 
 Wilderness down to their present position ; that they 
 had rendered hors de combat within six weeks more 
 of the enemy in numbers than they counted in their 
 
 *Col. Archer has recently died and gone over to meet his com- 
 rades. 
 
The War 221 
 
 own ranks; that the enemy was discouraged by con- 
 stant defeat, and demoraUzed by great losses in battle, 
 and would prove ready victims to turther disaster, and 
 in the meantime that his own army, in event ot a long 
 siege, would be daily diminished by the casualties ot 
 constant combat, by division, by desertion, etc. ; and 
 that though the enemy, inactive in the trenches, would 
 be subject under the circumstances to equal losses, yet 
 that he had the world to draw from, could always put 
 two men in the place of one lost, whilst our resources, 
 virtually exhausted as far as reinforcements were con- 
 cerned, would not permit us to keep our army even 
 to the present standard. 
 
 Other reports were that General Lee advised the sur- 
 render of Richmond and Petersburg, and a continu- 
 ance of the tactics begun at the Wilderness, viz: to 
 move upon Grant's left, fighting him every day when 
 opportunity favored, and thus subjecting him to daily 
 loss greater than we incurred, and leading him con- 
 stantly away from his base of supplies into an unknown, 
 inhospitable, and hostile country. It was said that Mr. 
 Davis opposed this plan on the ground of giving up 
 the seat of Government, and the loss of Richmond and 
 Petersburg, and the continued falUng back of the Con- 
 federate forces would give encouragement to the ene- 
 my and be followed by discouragement and demoral- 
 ization on the part of the Southern people. I do not 
 know how far these reports, current at the time, were 
 sustained by facts. 
 
 A few days after General Lee had reached Peters- 
 burg and established his lines and filled them with his 
 veterans, and confident of present safety had set up a 
 sense of such casual peace as often pervaded the air 
 t^there is no other description for it, when two great 
 armies are facing one another and taking respite of mu- 
 tual slaughter), I invited his medical staff and several 
 
222 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 other general officers to breakfast at my quarters. After 
 waiting for an hour for my guests, General Lee's staflf 
 and some others not appearing, those present sat down 
 to the table ; but our party was soon disturbed, even 
 to dissolution, by a terrific cannonading on the left of 
 our lines, near the iron bridge on the City Point Road, 
 and in the vicinity of the old race track, followed by 
 musketry, continuous and heavy, indicating that a 
 battle of no mean pretensions was on. We had as- 
 saulted the enemy's works "with vigor," had failed to 
 carry them, and after some considerable loss our men 
 were withdrawn. Whether this attack was made in ac- 
 cordance with the advice said to have been given by 
 Beauregard, to "break the enemy's right and double 
 him up," or whether it was merely a feint, I never had 
 any definite means of determining by information got- 
 ten from those who alone knew. The attack was de- 
 termined on the night previous, I am sure, as General 
 Lee's medical officers, in apologizing for their failure 
 to be present at my breakfast, stated they received or- 
 ders the night before not to leave their quarters the 
 following morning. 
 
 No other sortie was made by the besieged, and 
 strangely enough, it would seem, no assault by the be- 
 siegers in their overwhelming numbers, until the 30th 
 of July following, when they sprung a mine under our 
 works at the Elliott Salient, now known as the Crater. 
 With this exception the fighting was done behind their 
 works, or in open field to their left, — always and per- 
 sistently to their left, — and though always in number 
 greatly superior to our own, and often repelled with 
 fearful loss, they would reinforce and reappear with a 
 pertinacity and courage worthy of a better cause, until 
 our thin lines were finally enveloped in their anaconda 
 folds, and the tragedy of Five Forks ended the scene 
 of the immortal defense of the beleagured city of Pe- 
 
The War 223 
 
 tersburg. We have referred to the assault of the ene- 
 my on the 30th of July. It could hardly be called an 
 assault on our lines, as they had been destroyed by the 
 explosion of 8,000 pounds of powder introduced 
 through a subterranean gallery of 520 feet, extending 
 from the Federal works to our ow^n, and placed under 
 a salient occupied by Pegram's Battery, of this city, and 
 a part of the Eighteenth and Twenty-second South 
 Carolina Regiments. These troops were blown up, but 
 few left aHve, and in the place of the fort there was left 
 a crater 200 feet long, 60 feet wide, and 30 feet deep. 
 There were literally no works to assault for a space 
 of 150 to 200 yards, and no men to repel an assault at 
 this point, and the way was open to Cemetery Hill, a 
 few hundred yards distant, and to the doomed city 
 about the same distance from its crest. The explosion 
 occurred about four o'clock in the morning, and this 
 portion of the works was in possession of the enemy 
 until about nine o'clock, when they were retaken by 
 Mahone with three brigades — his own, and Wright's 
 of Georgia, and Saunders' of Alabama. That is, for 
 about four hours the Federals, with our works broken 
 for some two or three hundred yards, failed to advance 
 or take any advantage of their position. According to 
 the report on the "Conduct of the \Var," General Ord 
 estimates the troops that really got into the Confed- 
 erate works at ten or twelve thousand, and of this 
 number forty-three hundred were colored troops; be- 
 hind these were massed, according to McCabe, 65,000, 
 not in immediate vicinity, of course, but accessible if 
 necessity should arise for re-inforcements. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that a very sharp cor- 
 respondence arose during that time between General 
 Meade, whose quarters were at the house occupied 
 now by Mrs. Brown, about one and a half miles from 
 the Crater, and General Burnside, who had immediate 
 
224 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 charge of the attack, and that the failure to capture 
 Petersburg on that occasion was called by their his- 
 torian, Swinton, the "fiasco of the war." 
 
 Now let us estimate the number of Confederate 
 troops to whom was assigned the duty of recapturing 
 and reestabHshing our lines. When the explosion oc- 
 curred at four o'clock in the morning and the enemy 
 rushed into our broken works, information was sent 
 at once to General Lee, whose quarters were then at 
 the Turnbull house, about a mile to the west of Peters- 
 burg, and near the present Insane Asylum. He direct- 
 ed Colonel Venable, of his staff (afterwards Professor 
 of Mathematics at the University of Virginia) to ride 
 rapidly to General Mahone's position, which was on our 
 lines, near the Wilcox house, about a mile to the left of 
 Elliott's Salient, and to order him to send two of his 
 brigades, the Virginia, under Colonel Weisiger, and 
 the Georgia Brigade, under General Wright, to report 
 to General Bushrod Johnson, whose quarters were in 
 the old Mingea house on the hill just to the northeast 
 of the cemetery, and who had charge of our lines at 
 the point where the explosion occurred and where they 
 were in the possession of the enemy. 
 
 General Mahone, who always exercised the most 
 jealous care of his brigade, said to Colonel Venable that 
 he disliked to send his brigade, and with approval of 
 General Lee he would lead it himself. He then ordered 
 his men of the two brigades to fall back out of the 
 works, one at a time, so as not to attract the attention 
 of the enemy to the working of our lines at that point, 
 and as soon as he had gotten them out of sight of the 
 enemy, formed them into line, and sent them out along 
 the continuous ravine leading to the east of the Camer- 
 on house, and on to near the present location of the 
 water works, from which there was a covered way, 
 partly natural and partly ditched, and with protecting 
 
The War 225 
 
 traverses leading to our works a few hundred yards 
 southeast of the cemetery, and used for the carrying of 
 rations, ammunition, etc., to the troops in the works. 
 He rode forward himself and reported to General John- 
 son, where it seems he found General Lee, who cor- 
 dially approved of his leading his brigade, and asked to 
 be shown the way to the captured salient. General 
 Johnson sent a young lieutenant, Harris, with him, 
 and when they reached the point where the covered 
 way crossed the Jerusalem Plank Road, a few yards 
 south of the termination of the present electric road, 
 he found his brigade coming up. Leading them up 
 to within some two hundred yards of the covered way 
 and stepping out, he said, describing it afterwards: 
 "I found myself in full view of the portion of the salient 
 which had been blown up, and of that part of the works 
 to the north of the salient, and saw that they were 
 crammed with Federal soldiers and thickly studded 
 with Federal flags. A moment's survey of the situation 
 impressed me with the belief, so crowded were the ene- 
 my and his flags, — eleven flags in less than one hun- 
 dred yards, — that he was greatly disordered, but in 
 large force. I at once sent back for the Alabama 
 brigade to be brought up by the way in which the two 
 brigades had come." In the meantime it was evident 
 that no time could be lost, and he directed Captain 
 Girardey, of his staff, to form the brigade in Hne of 
 battle in a gulch or depression of ground, parallel with 
 our works or nearly so, about two hundred yards dis- 
 tant from the enemy — the Virginians on the left and 
 the Georgians on the right. Hardly had they gotten 
 into position when Girardley called to Mahone, "Gen- 
 eral, they are coming" (the enemy showing some in- 
 tention of charging), and Mahone called back, "Tell 
 Weisiger to forward!" And then, says Mahone, "with 
 the steadiness and resolution of regulars on dress pa- 
 is 
 
226 S event y-ftre Years in Old Virginia 
 
 rade, they moved forward to meet the enemy." On 
 their arrival at the works there was a hand-to-hand 
 fight with bayonet and butt of musket, and with hor- 
 rors that no one can readily appreciate who was not 
 engaged in the conflict, until the works to the north or 
 left of the traverse were taken, the enemy still holding 
 the pit, which proved to them a veritable trap of death, 
 and holding in addition some fifty feet to the right of 
 the pit. The Virginia brigade had done its w^ork, the 
 Georgia had failed : nor did it take the enemy's lines 
 in its front until the coming of the Alabama brigade, 
 with Colonel Saunders. About one o'clock P. M. 
 our lines were re-established, the enemy still holding 
 the pit, from which he could not emerge without al- 
 most certain death. This pit was crowded with Fed- 
 eral troops who, failing to advance when our works 
 were broken, had cowered under the fire of shell and 
 shrapnel poured in from our batteries to the north and 
 to the south of the Crater, and sought safety behind 
 the boulders and walls of that inmiense opening in the 
 earth. 
 
 McCabe, adjutant of Pegram's Battalion of Artil- 
 lery, an eye witness of and participant in this fight, 
 says (address before the Association of the Army of 
 Northern Virginia) : ''And now the scene within the 
 horrible pit was such as might l)e fitly portrayed by 
 the pencil of Dante after he had trod 'nine-circled 
 Hell.' From the great mortars to the right and left, 
 huge missiles, describing graceful curves, fell at regu- 
 lar intervals with dreadful accuracy and burst amongst 
 the helpless masses huddled together ; and every ex- 
 plosion was followed by piteous cries, and oftentimes 
 the very air seemed darkened by flying human limbs. 
 Haskell, too, had moved up his eprouvette mortars 
 among the men of the Si.xteenth Virginia, so close, in- 
 deed, that his powder charge was l)ut 'an ounce and a 
 
The War 2ay 
 
 half, and without intermission the storm of fire beat 
 upon the hapless men imprisoned within. Mahone's 
 men watched with great interest this easy method of 
 reaching troops behind cover, and then with imitative 
 ingenuity of soldiers, gleefully gathered up the count- 
 less muskets, with bayonets fixed, which had been 
 abandoned by the enemy, and propelled them with 
 such nice skill that they came down upon Ledlie's men 
 [in the pit] like the rain of the Norman arrows at 
 Hastings. And this horrid butchery continued until 
 our lines were retaken in their continuity about one 
 o'clock P. M., when a white handkerchief was display- 
 ed from the end of a ramrod or bayonet, and the re- 
 sponse being to 'come in,' a great number of prisoners 
 came pouring over the crest, which, including a few 
 that had been captured before, footed up i,ioi." The 
 Federal accounts of this affair of the charge upon their 
 works, and of the slaughter which ensued, and of the 
 liorrors of the pit into which they were driven shows 
 that McCabe did not exaggerate in his statements. 
 
 Capt. Freeman Bowley, of San Francisco, in an ad- 
 dress before the California command of the Loyal Le- 
 gion of the United States November 8th, 1889, said: 
 "When driven back, with a dozen of my company, I 
 went down the traverse to the Crater. We were the 
 last to reach it, and the Johnnies were not twenty yards 
 behind us. A full line around the crest of the Crater 
 were loading and firing as fast as they could, and the 
 men were dropping thick and fast, most of them shot 
 through the head. Every man that was shot rolled 
 down the steep sides to the bottom, and in places were 
 piled up four or five deep. The cries of the wounded 
 pressed down under the dead were piteous in the ex- 
 treme. An enfilading fire was coming through the 
 traverse down which we had retreated. General Bart- 
 lett (who had been disabled by the crushing of his 
 
228 S event y-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 wooden leg) ordered the colored troops to build breast- 
 works across it. They commenced the work of throw- 
 ing up lumps of clay, but it was slow work, and some 
 one called out, 'put in the dead men,' and acting on 
 this suggestion, a large number of dead — white and 
 black. Union and Rebel — were piled into the trench. 
 * * * The artillery on Cemetery Hill kept up a 
 constant fire of grape, and kept the dust flying about 
 us. A mortar battery also opened on us, and after a 
 few shots they got our range and the shells fell directly 
 among us. Many of them did not explode, but a few 
 burst directly over us and cut the men down most 
 cruelly. Many of our troops now attempted to leave, 
 but nearly every man who attempted it fell back rid- 
 dled with bullets. The white troops now were ex- 
 hausted and discouraged. Leaving the line, they sat 
 down, facing inwards, and neither threats nor entreat- 
 ies could get them up again. * * * From this 
 time the fire was kept up mainly by the negro troops, 
 and of^cers handling muskets. A few Indians* of the 
 First Michigan Sharpshooters did splendid work. 
 Some of them were mortally wounded, and drawing 
 their blouses over their faces chanted their death song, 
 and died, four of them in a group. Of the men of my 
 company who rallied with me, all but one, a sergeant, 
 lay dead or dying. * * * The rebels planted their 
 battle flags on the edge of the Crater-front, and on 
 both sides, not six feet from our men, muskets, with 
 bayonets, were pitched back and forth in harpoon 
 style." 
 
 Any one wishing to read an enlarged and accurate 
 account of this fearful hand-to-hand conflict will find 
 it, under contribution from many soldiers and officers, 
 
 *Some of these poor fellows fell into my hands after the fight was 
 over— J. H. C. 
 
The War 229 
 
 Union and Confederate, in "War Talks," published by 
 Geo. S. Bernard, Attorney, Petersburg, Virginia, him- 
 self one of the 800 of the Virginia brigade which 
 charged and carried by the bayonet and butt of musket 
 works manned by tenfold their number. 
 
 In stating that Wrights' Brigade of Georgia failed 
 to carry the post of the enemy's lines in their front, it 
 is but just to add that Colonel Hall, who commanded 
 the brigade, in a letter to the Petersburg Express of 
 August 1st, 1864, stated that only a regiment and a 
 half of his brigade had emerged from the covered way 
 when Mahone's men charged, and that by order of 
 Capt. Girardey they charged on the right of Mahone's 
 Brigade ; and one of these regiments planted its col- 
 ors on the edge of the Crater, and remained there until 
 ordered away. This is confirmed by Lieut. Laighton, 
 of Richmond, who commanded the sharpshooters from 
 the Twelfth Virginia. He says that he distinctly re- 
 members that "a small number of Wright's Brigade 
 charged along with the Virginia brigade, immediately 
 on the right of the battalion of sharpshooters." The 
 casualties of two hundred and thirty-one reported in 
 the Georgia brigade is sufHcient evidence that they 
 somewhere met a very murderous fire. 
 
 The regiments of Elliott's Brigade, on the north of 
 the Crater, which had escaped the explosion — espec- 
 ially the Seventeenth South Carolina — made a gallant 
 fight in restraining the advance of the enemy, after 
 they had taken our works, and suffered severely. So 
 did Ransom's and Clingman's North Carolinians make 
 a brave stand, as the North Carolinians always did, and 
 suffered severely, and with them several regiments of 
 Wise's Brigade. 
 
 To Mahone's Brigade, however, was given the honor 
 of the day, and he was rewarded by the thanks of Gen- 
 eral Lee, and received the stars of a major general. 
 
230 Scvcnty-iii'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Weisiger was made brigadier general, a tardy but well 
 deserved promotion, and Capt. Girardey jumped from 
 a captain to brigadier. He was a gallant officer, and 
 was given charge of a Georgia brigade, but was killed 
 soon after this in the first fight into which he led his 
 men. The Alabamians, who charged about i P. M., 
 and recaptured the works in their front, came in for 
 high commendation, but bought their laurels dearly. 
 The remnant of this brigade, about an hundred men, 
 possibly less, I succeeded in getting ofif at Appomattox 
 Court House after they had been mustered and count- 
 ed of¥ to be sent to a Federal prison. Of this I shall 
 speak later. 
 
 There is no doubt but that the Confederate artillery, 
 — Wright's Battery, Haskell's, Coit's, Lambkin's, Da- 
 vidson's, Otey's, Planner's, and others which I cannot 
 recall, — by the promptness with which they opened 
 fire on the enemy as they appeared at the rupture of 
 our works made by the explosion of the mine, and by 
 the skill and undaunted courage with which they 
 handled their guns, and the execution done, as their 
 fearful missiles of shell, and grape, and canister fell 
 amongst the Federals crowded into the small space 
 through which they were compelled to advance, did a 
 great deal to delay the enemy until the arrival of ]\Ia- 
 hone's infantry. 
 
 Capt. Flanner, in the "Historical Papers," May 1878, 
 says : "I claim that the battery commanded by me, and 
 composed entirely of North Carolinians, is entitled to 
 the credit of preventing the Federal army from enter- 
 ing Petersburg on the morning of the springing of the 
 mine." This battery was located at what was known 
 then as the Gee house, which stood on the Jerusalem 
 Plank Road near the intersection of the Baxter Road. 
 The Captain says : "Immediately on the advance of the 
 army we opened on them with shell and canister, when 
 
The JJ'ar 231 
 
 they soon sought shelter in their trenches. In a few 
 minutes they again formed, and commenced advancing. 
 We again opened on tliem with our six guns. They 
 pressed steadily forward, when our guns were doubly 
 charged with canister, and a deadly fire poured into 
 their ranks. Their lines were then broken, and they 
 fled to their works, and there remained until the ar- 
 rival of Beauregard with the troops commanded by 
 Mahone. The iire of the enemy from one hundred 
 guns was concentrated upon my company for nearly 
 two hours, but amid this terrible rain of deadly mis- 
 siles the brave North Carolinians stood to their guns 
 and repulsed any advance of the enemy." 
 
 Captain Planner probably does not exaggerate the 
 weight of the metal against him, as in Captain Kirtis's 
 book, "Heavv Guns and Light," he says on authority 
 of Col. Henry L. Abbotts, who commanded the siege 
 artillery of the Army of the Potomac, that "eighty-one 
 Federal guns fired in this action 3,833 rounds of shot 
 and shell, missiles aggregating over 75 tons of metal." 
 We would not rob the gallant Captain or his brave 
 North Carolinians of one feather from their plume. 
 Where there were North Carolinians, there were brave 
 men always, and none who ever saw them in a fight, or 
 noted the return of their casualties after a fight, will 
 gainsay that ; but there were other brave men, of the 
 infantry and of the artillery, — men whom we have men- 
 tioned. — who rallied promptly after the demoralizing 
 explosion of the mine, and who shared with our Cap- 
 tain and his game crew that generous rain of metal so 
 abundantly poured out upon their devoted heads. 
 
 Major D. N. Walker,* of the Thirteenth Virginia 
 Battalion of Artillery, and who commanded the Otey 
 Battery from Richmond, whose guns were located to 
 
 ♦Letter to Geo. S. Bernard— "War Talks." 
 
232 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the right of the Crater, said that the battle was an "ar- 
 tillery fight," and that "the enemy were practically 
 whipped before Mahone took part in the action." It 
 would be difficult to prove this fact to the infantry o£ 
 Elliott's Brigade, of Ransom's Brigade, and of Wise's 
 Virginia Brigade, who to the north of the Crater re- 
 pelled the advance of the Federal troops, and who suf- 
 fered so severely. In the Fifty-ninth Virginia, of the 
 ten officers commanding the ten companies, nine were 
 killed on the field. These must have borne some 
 humble part in the repulse of the enemy. 
 
 It would be more difficult to convince the men of 
 Mahone's Brigade that the fight was practically ended, 
 who in that charge with a dash and courage "never 
 surpassed" and seldom equalled (according to Capt. 
 Walker himself, who witnessed it from his battery), and 
 who with bayonet and clubbed musket rushed upon ten 
 times their numbers of the enemy, and drove them 
 back upon their lines, and who suffered a loss which 
 was unaccountable if the fight was over. The fight was 
 not practically over until Mahone's second charge, 
 under Colonel Saunders, of the Alabama brigade, recap- 
 tured our works in their entirety. This was about 
 twelve or one o'clock P. M. The time of the first 
 charge was about 8.30 A. M., but has been reported as 
 being later. Colonel Venable, who took the orders 
 from General Lee to Mahone, says that the "charge 
 was made before nine o'clock A. M." This was cor- 
 roborated by any number of the participants in the 
 fight on both sides, but the Federal record, as found in 
 the testimony of General Meade before the "Commit- 
 tee on the Conduct of the W^ar." establishes the fact 
 beyond question. 
 
 General Meade says: "At nine A. M., July 30, I re- 
 ceived the following dispatch from General Burnside : 
 'General Meade — Many of the Ninth (9th) and Eigh- 
 
The War 233 
 
 teenth (18th) Corps are retiring before tlie enemy. I 
 think now is the time to put in the Fifth Corps 
 promptly.' At 9.30 A. M. the following dispatch was 
 sent to Gen. Burnside : 'Headquarters Army of the 
 Potomac, July 30th, 1864, 9-30 A. M. To Major Gen- 
 eral Burnside, commanding Ninth Corps : The Major 
 General commanding has heard that the result of your 
 attack has been a repulse, and directs that if, in your 
 judgment, nothing further can be efifected, that you 
 withdraw to your own line, taking precaution to get 
 the men safely back.' At 9.45 A. M. General Burn- 
 side received a peremptory order to withdraw his 
 troops." 
 
 The troops were not withdrawn, however, before i 
 P. M. Then ensued a correspondence between Gen- 
 erals Meade and Burnside, by telegrams, of such spice 
 and vigor as to be almost as interesting as other inci- 
 dents of the fight. Indeed, it is not difficult to believe 
 that such a correspondence between two major gen- 
 erals of the Confederate Army would have led to a 
 transfer of the scene of action, so far as they were con- 
 cerned. After the war, when the participants in the 
 whole affair had given their versions, differing of 
 course in many things, as if it were possible under such 
 strain and excitement and peril for men in different 
 portions of the line to see things alike, jealousies and 
 bitterness arose, not to be wondered at, but regretted. 
 As far as the Confederate soldiers and the Confeder- 
 ate leaders were concerned, there was surely glory 
 enough to go around to all, and to satisfy the most ex- 
 acting. 
 
 An absurd question arose as to who gave the com- 
 mand to charge as the Virginia brigade arose to their 
 feet and rushed upon the enemy, — whether Weisiger, 
 Mahone, or Girardey, — as if the order of one man 
 could be heard along two hundred yards of line of 
 
234 Sci'ciify-ihc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 battle, amid the bellowing of cannon and the pande- 
 monium of shrieking shell, and whistling shrapnel and 
 hissing minies. The men of that command were not 
 only men of the highest intelligence, but trained sol- 
 diers, and tried in half an hundred battles, and were 
 capable, nearly every man, of being a leader, and doubt- 
 less would have arisen without orders and charged, by 
 soldierly instinct, at the most opportune time for vic- 
 tory. Some of the men testified that they heard no 
 command to charge, but saw that the time had come. 
 
 A more absurd question arose as to whether Ma- 
 hone was really in command on that occasion, or pres- 
 ent at the charge. One w'ould think that such a state- 
 ment would not receive the credence of any man. Yet 
 I heard a general officer — a lieutenant general — say 
 ten years after the war that Gen. Mahone was not pres- 
 ent at the afTair of the Crater. This officer was not 
 present and of course knew nothing about it. The men 
 who were present speak with no uncertain voice. Gen- 
 eral Mahone was not there by orders. He was directed 
 to send his brigade to Gen. Bushrod Johnson, who had 
 immediate command on the part of the lines broken. 
 He volunteered to take them in himself. But what say 
 the men whose presence and whose gallantry none can 
 ever question? Major Jones, now president of a col- 
 lege in Mississippi, and who led the Twelfth Virginia, 
 says (letter under date of January, 1877, to General 
 Mahone) : "On getting my regiment in position, your 
 courier delivered me a message to report to you at the 
 right of the brigade. Walking in front of the brigade 
 and reaching you, I found all the other regimental 
 commandery before you when I arrived. * * * 
 Turning to the officers, you delivered a stirring ad- 
 dress to this efTect : 'The enemy have our works. The 
 line of men which we have here is the only barrier to 
 the enemy's occupying Petersburg. There is nothing 
 
The War 235 
 
 to resist his advance. Upon lis devolves the duty of 
 driving him from his strong position in our front, and 
 reestabhshing our Hnes. We must carry his position 
 immediately by assaulting it. If we don't carry it by 
 the first attack we will renew the assault as long as a 
 man of us is left, or until the work is ours.' " 
 
 This statement of Major Jones has never been ques- 
 tioned, but in an editorial in the Richmond Common- 
 wealth, in June, 1880, prompted by a bitter corre- 
 spondence between General Mahone and General Weis- 
 iger, it was more than intimated that General Mahone 
 was not entitled to the credit of the success at the 
 Crater ; but that he "was in the covered way at a time 
 when he ought to have been somewhere else." Upon 
 the appearance of this editorial, some old members of 
 Mahone's Brigade, Capt. J. E. Tyler, of the Twelfth 
 Virginia, Lieut. J. E. Phillips, of the Twelfth Virginia, 
 Sergeant Leroy S. Edwards, of the Twelfth Virginia, 
 and Private Jos. A. Gentry, of the Sixth Virginia, whose 
 presence in the battle was never questioned, collected 
 a number of statements from a number of offtcers and 
 soldiers participants in the same aiTair, and published 
 them in the Richmond JVhig, in August, 1880. Amongst 
 these statements, one from Capt. W. A. S. Taylor, 
 Adjutant of the Sixty-first Virginia, says: "Whilst 
 waiting for the command 'guides post' I saw Girardey 
 wave his hand above his head and shout 'charge.' I 
 presumed the command came from General Mahone, 
 and with the command I started for the works [of the 
 enemy]. * * * Arriving at the works, the com- 
 mand delivered its fire, and finished with the bayonet. 
 In a few minutes thereafter General Mahone was at 
 that portion of the works occupied by the Sixty-first 
 Virginia, and I heard him say, 'The work is not civ9s:, 
 we must retake the balance of the line.' " 
 
2^6 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Colonel Rogers, who commanded the Sixth Vir- 
 ginia Regiment, after describing the charge and the 
 fearfull loss in his command, says, "Almost upon the in- 
 stant of reaching the entrenchment, Gen. Weisiger 
 called to me that he was wounded, he thought mor- 
 tally, and, turning over the command to me, retired 
 with assistance from the field. The brigade was in great 
 confusion ; our loss in the charge had been very heavy, 
 the work of death was rife in the trenches, and our men 
 were suffering from an enfilade fire. * * * Then 
 I met General Mahone in the trenches, and received 
 from him timely instructions, and orders to hold the 
 position at any hazard, and under any loss, until he 
 could bring another brigade to our relief." 
 
 Mr. Thos. H. Cross, of the Sixteenth Virginia Regi- 
 ment, says : "I saw General Mahone just before we 
 started on the charge, and saw him again in the breast- 
 works." 
 
 Mr. W. W. Caldwell, of the battalion of sharp- 
 shooters of the Twelfth Virginia Regiment, says in a 
 statement on the same day, June 30, 1880: "i had not 
 lost sight of him (Mahone) five minutes, when the ene- 
 my commenced firing outside the captured portion of 
 our front. * * * In the movement to the trenches 
 which we captured I did not see Mahone, but in less 
 than five minutes after we were in the works, he was 
 in our midst, encouraging our men in the thickest ot 
 the fire." 
 
 I have selected these from a number of statements 
 to the same effect from men who testified of their per- 
 sonal knowledge. I have personally a melancholy re- 
 minder of Mahone's presence in the trenches in a note 
 which he sent to me in the rear, with the body of a 
 nephew of mine, R. E. Butts, a young lawyer of the 
 Petersburg bar. and a member of Co. E, Twelfth Vir- 
 ginia Regiment. He stated in words of sorrow that 
 
The War 237 
 
 "my gallant nephew" had just been killed at his side. 
 It was at the time probably referred to by Colonel 
 Rogers of the Sixth Virginia, immediately after the 
 capture of the works, when Mahone appeared amongst 
 them, placing men in position, especially the sharp- 
 shooters, to pick off the Federals who were annoying 
 our troops with a fatal fire. 
 
 Mahone replies to the incident in a report published 
 in "War Talks of Confederate Veterans." He says: 
 "The Virginia brigade having made its charge, I put 
 the Georgia brigade in position to meet any possible 
 reverse to which the Virginia brigade might be sub- 
 jected, then hurried across the field to the works which 
 the Virginia brigade then occupied, and after making a 
 thorough examination of the situation, so disposed the 
 same as to increase the ability of the brigade to hold 
 the works retaken, at the same time causing the sharp- 
 shooters to be so posted as to make death the penalty 
 of the enemy attempting to escape and get back to 
 their lines. It was here that I remember young Butts 
 [my nephew] being killed in my immediate presence. 
 He had just cautioned me, whilst I was looking through 
 an opening in the works, not to expose myself. I told 
 him I would look after that, and almost immediately 
 afterwards he received a bullet in his forehead which 
 killed him instantly, and he fell on the floor of the 
 trench at my feet." This incident was told me also by 
 David Meade Bernard, also a lawyer, and after the 
 war judge of the Hustings Court of Petersburg. He 
 said that he and Butts were engaged at the request of 
 General Mahone in, picking off the men who were con- 
 tinually attempting to get back from the Crater into 
 their own lines, and that Butts remarked just as he 
 was shot, "I got that one," the man jumping up into 
 the air and rolling down the hill as he was struck. 
 
238 Scz'oity-frre y^cars in Old Virginia 
 
 Mr. George S. Bernard (in his ''War Talks"), a brave 
 soldier of the Twelfth Virginia, a participant in the 
 immortal charge of the Virginia brigade, an honest 
 and potent collector of facts, and who noted in his 
 diary some of the incidents of the fight, even before the 
 fight was ended, says : "When the Virginia brigade 
 made its charge, General Mahone of course remained 
 in his position in the ravine along which the Georgia 
 brigade was filing to take its position at the right of the 
 Virginians. To have charged with the Virginia bri- 
 gade, as was the duty of its commander. General, then 
 Colonel Weisiger, would have been evident that he 
 had lost his head, and with the Georgia brigade mov- 
 ing along under his eye and needing his presence to 
 put it in position, would have been criminal indiscre- 
 tion. The Virginia brigade having made its charge, 
 and the Georgia brigade having filed into position 
 from which it was intended that it should charge, Gen- 
 eral Mahone hurried across the slope over which the 
 Virginia brigade had just charged to the breastworks, 
 and was in the breastworks a few minutes after the 
 Virginians had gotten into them, encouraging the men, 
 posting sharpshooters, etc." 
 
 With facts like these, which cannot be disputed, sup- 
 ported as they are by so much evidence, the allegation 
 that Mahone on this occasion failed to do all in the way 
 of personal presence at the scene of conflict, and post 
 of danger, that should or would have been done by the 
 bravest of division commanders under like circum- 
 stances, is utterly untenable, and should be abandoned 
 as false and untenable. 
 
 I have collected this testimony in reference to Ma- 
 hone from sources so abundant that I scarcely knew 
 how to select it, and from men, who, at his right hand 
 and under his eye, for four years were witnesses of 
 his courage and skill and devotion as a soldier, because 
 
The War 239 
 
 even now, when the bitterness of partisanship is pass- 
 ing away, there are still some persons disposed to deny 
 him his well-earned honors. 
 
 At the time this evidence was gathered together the 
 unfortunate controversy which arose between Mahone 
 and Weisi ger after the war in reference to the affair 
 at the Crater had been over for years, and was deeply 
 regretted by the friends of both, and by none more 
 than by the men who had followed them both in four 
 years of unparalleled hardships and unprecedented 
 peril, and who were witnesses of the undaunted cour- 
 age with which they both met difficulties apparently 
 insuperable, and overcame odds that threatened the ex- 
 tinction of their command. Neither of them were men 
 of personal magnetism, and both were strict and un- 
 compromising disciplinarians, and the hold they had 
 upon their men was born of the consciousness that 
 they would be handled with skill, that they would be 
 cared for in disaster, and that they would be required 
 to incur no dangers which their officers were not will- 
 ing to meet. 
 
 After the affair at the Crater, at which the Federal 
 loss, according to their own returns, was some five 
 thousand killed, wounded, and missing, no further as- 
 saults were made immediately upon our works. The 
 siege continued, with the daily cannonading of our 
 lines and of the city, and the daily story of suffering 
 and wounds ^nd death, and the stretching out of the 
 Federal lines to their right, fortifying them, not only 
 in our front, but in their rear, lest Mahone, who had 
 become their terror, should flank them, as he had done 
 more than once to their great loss. The city was 
 shelled generally at certain hours of the day or night, 
 and those who remained in their homes, and some who 
 had returned to their homes, driven back by the dis- 
 comforts of refugeeing, would go into their bomb- 
 
240 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 proofs, and \Yait until the firing ceased before coming 
 out again. 
 
 Though the city at some locaHties was ahuost 
 knocked to pieces, yet there were few casualties 
 amongst the citizens, or amongst the soldiers who were 
 detained in the city on duty. The wisdom of keeping 
 two hospitals open was soon demonstrated by the fact 
 that they were kept filled by the badly wounded and 
 the sick who could not be made comfortable in the 
 field hospitals adjacent to the city, and by the addi- 
 tional fact that no casualties occurred in any of them. 
 Two nurses were killed, but not whilst they were on 
 duty at the hospitals, and no medical officer was hurt 
 with the exception of myself, and 1 was not near a hos- 
 pital at the time. My ambulance men used to say that 
 the Yankees always knew where my quarters were. It 
 is certain that they shelled me out of them more than 
 once — once when I was located in the building now 
 known as the High School, and which T had just vacated 
 bn orders from headquarters informing me that "the 
 enemy had gotten my range," I did not vacate too 
 soon, as the chair on which I was sitting was knocked 
 to pieces by a shell which came through the Iron Front 
 on Sycamore Street a very few minutes after I left. My 
 quarters after that were in the small brick house on 
 South Street, adjoining the South-side Box Factory, 
 in the yard of Collier's mill. But I slept at night at the 
 house on Farley and Hinton Street now owned and 
 occupied by Mayor Pleasants, where I had some fur- 
 niture stored, and which was often the comfortable re- 
 sort of officers coming in from the lines. Hinton 
 Street had not then been laid ofif, but there was a wide 
 open valley extending from Friend Street west to 
 South Street, and the shells intended for Tabb Street 
 Church steeple and the Post Ofiice ploughed that val- 
 ley before becoming exhausted, and made the locality 
 
The War 241 
 
 very unsafe. Of course they shrieked and pounded 
 above and around the house in a most unpleasant way, 
 and finally drove every one away from their firesides, 
 as desirable as they were, except myself and my valet 
 Romulus. 
 
 On the night of the 30th of August, after the affair 
 of the Crater, and on the day on which General Hamp- 
 ton had gotten into Grant's rear and driven into our 
 lines some 3,000 cattle, depriving the Federal army 
 of their beef for some time, the officers, naturally very 
 indignant, and unable in any other way to vent their 
 spleen, opened on the city, apparently with every gun, 
 and prolonged their cannonade far into the night. 
 About ten o'clock I was lying down on a lounge and 
 watching the shells as they fiev*^ past the windows, 
 those at least which had fuses lit, and listening to the 
 music of the others. The situation became more sub- 
 lime, as far as the terrible is an element of the sublime, 
 and I said to Romulus, my servant, who was lying on 
 his blanket near me, ''Boy, we will run Providence one 
 more night, but to-morrow we will change our base 
 again," when suddenly two planets of the first magni- 
 tude seemed to come together right in my face, and 
 to break into a million stars of smaller magnitude. I 
 felt myself whirling over in the midst of plaster, laths, 
 glass, broken timber, and the dust of debris indescrib- 
 able. Then followed Cimmerian darkness, and I be- 
 came conscious of a stinging pain in my left shoulder 
 and left foot, and of an ominous trickling down my 
 back — on the whole a sense of being generally used up. 
 My first sensible thought was, "I am not killed, it hurts 
 too badly." As soon as I could get the dirt out of my 
 mouth I called to Romulus to know if he was hurt. 
 "Not touched, sir," he answered. "Well, I am," I re- 
 plied, "come and get me down under the lee of the 
 wall in the basement." "Better lay still, Marster," he 
 1<> 
 
242 Sczrii(y-/h'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 said ; "shell never come in the same hole twice." That 
 seemed a reasonable calculation of chance, but I pre- 
 ferred not to take it, and directed him to drag me 
 down to the basement, out of the dirt. After getting 
 me into a safer place, and striking a light, he saw some 
 blood on my shirt, and became demoralized and wanted 
 to go for a surgeon at once. I told him no, that I was 
 but a little hurt, and that if he attempted to go for a 
 surgeon through that fire he would be killed himself, or 
 the surgeon would be killed before he could get to 
 me. He made me as comfortable as he could and I 
 soon fell asleep. 
 
 On awakening the next morning my faithful valet 
 was still watching over me. Finding my wounds very 
 slight, I simply reported unable for duty and asked for 
 an officer to be assigned to my place temporarily. How- 
 ever, it gave me a short furlough, and I was surprised 
 to receive a note from the War Department a few days 
 afterwards, thanking me for my services, and noting 
 me "for courage, steadiness under fire, and devotion 
 to duty." This was a salvo for the slap I got from Gen- 
 eral Lee for not removing the wounded from under fire 
 with more diligence when he first came to the city, but 
 it was a compliment I did not deserve. I never went 
 under fire when I could honorably avoid it, and I al- 
 ways retired " as soon as a patriotic sense of duty per- 
 mitted." I never loved danger for danger's sake, and 
 never put myself in the way of it, either for amusement 
 or for curiosity. Some surgeons occasionally indulged 
 in such diversion in the early years of the war, but they 
 soon became wiser as their experience enlarged; and 
 though no men whom I met in the four bloody years 
 (if our strife more faithfully and more courageously 
 stood to their places under the call of duty, yet they 
 learned not to court unnecessary exposure to danger. 
 Besides, though many a medical oflicer paid the penalty 
 
The War 243 
 
 of a limb or of his life for his constancy and courage, 
 not often was one gazetted or promoted therefor. 
 Without the animus of the fight, or the opportunity of 
 retaliation which the armed soldier had, yet quietly, 
 bravely, the doctor knelt in the field, by friend and foe 
 alike, and sought to save, without thought of self, the 
 mutilated and the stricken. It was not for him to 
 cheer, with the shout of the victor — his office was only 
 to hear and to help the fallen and the dying, enemy or 
 comrade. 
 
 In the first fight before Richmond, General Lee, not- 
 ing, I suppose, the disposition of some of the non-com- 
 batant staff, surgeons, quartermasters, etc., to go to 
 the front at a fight, commented on the fact and re- 
 minded them in an order that their place was in the 
 rear. It was a compliment as delicate as it was de- 
 served. The veteran soldiers had a belief, almost 
 amounting to a superstition, that no man could change 
 place with another in the presence of the enemy with- 
 out incurring especial danger. Mr. Geo. S. Bernard re- 
 fers to this fact in his "War Talks," and says that in 
 the line of battle, just before the charge at the Crater, 
 young Butts, who was killed, occupied his (Bernard's) 
 position, and that they exchanged places just before 
 Butts was killed. At the bloody affair at Crampton's 
 Gap, Harrison, of the Twelfth Virginia, whose posi- 
 tion in the line of battle brought him behind a stone 
 post, where he was comparatively safe, with an unself- 
 ish courage, rarely equalled, vacated it, and gave it to 
 the next soldier in line, who, not a veteran yet, showed 
 some evidence of wavering. Before the fight was over 
 this poor fellow was killed behind the stone post, and 
 Harrison escaped without a scratch. 
 
 During the siege of Petersburg I sent on one occa- 
 sion for a detail of men to guard some hospital storeu 
 in transition to a safer place, and two soldiers of a 
 
244 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Georgia regiment were sent me. I directed them 
 where to go. It was by chance a dangerous service, 
 and to these poor fellows an unusual one, which in the 
 soldier's vocabulary generally meant a dangerous ser- 
 vice, so one of them hesitated a Httle and asked to be 
 permitted to get some chewing tobacco from a com- 
 missary near at hand. I said to him, "Go on! In 
 twenty minutes you will probably have no mouth to 
 put your tobacco in." It was not spoken in unkind- 
 ness, but it was an idle speech which cost me no little 
 self-reproach when he was brought back in perhaps 
 less than that time, mortally wounded — a good part of 
 his face carried away by a shell, according to my un- 
 happy prediction. But tragic incidents were so com- 
 mon, and so crowded themselves upon us during the 
 siege, that they often ceased to impress us as they 
 should. 
 
 During the winter of i864-'65, amidst the sorrow 
 and the sufTering, which can hardly be exaggerated, 
 gaiety amongst the young people was rife. There 
 were parties, starvation parties, as they were called, on 
 account of the absence of refreshments impossible to 
 be obtained ; ball followed ball, and the soldier met and 
 danced with his lady love at night, and on the morrow 
 danced the dance of death in the deadly trench out on 
 the line, and the comrade who reported his fate took 
 his place the following night in the festive hall, and 
 often met the same fate the following day. The belles 
 wept the fallen beaux, but comforted themselves with 
 the recruits who hurried to "close up ranks," to the 
 music of some regimental band, at the dance. 
 
 During the latter part of the siege a young friend 
 of mine, a lieutenant-colonel of artillery, came by my 
 quarters one Sunday morning and begged me to go 
 out with him to his battery on the lines and see some 
 h\r\ ; saving that the Yankees were going to have dress 
 
The War 24$ 
 
 parade, as they usually did on Sunday, and that he was 
 going to train one of his rifle pieces on them and "see 
 them scatter." I reminded him that training rifle 
 pieces was a game that both sides played at often, and 
 that a rifle piece might possibly be trained on us. 
 "Oh!" he said "no danger, not half as much as here 
 where you are, and where you have to go. Besides, 
 you have had several narrow escapes where you are, 
 and been wounded once, and a man is rarely struck 
 behind my works." I repHed to him that if I were 
 killed anywhere that my daily duties called me, it would 
 be all right, that it would be the time and place for 
 me to die ; but that if I were killed out in the lines with 
 him some one would say "he had no business there, 
 it was just what might have been expected." In a few 
 hours the body of my poor friend was brought back, 
 a rifle shell having carried away a good part of his head. 
 To complete my story, I must add that he was to have 
 been married soon, and that his intended, a beautiful 
 young belle of the city, wept him for a short time, 
 and then consoled herself with a gallant colonel of in- 
 fantry. He in turn was wounded, and in the head, but 
 he survived his hurt, and came back from Appomattox, 
 and claimed his bride. They both are living still, in 
 a distant city, and when I saw them within a year past, 
 time had dealt so lightly with them that he was still 
 as handsome as when he wore the "buttons and the 
 gray," and she had simply exchanged the beauty of the 
 ball-room for the maturer charms of matron and 
 mother. 
 
 To this day many stirring incidents of that memor- 
 able winter of i864-'65 come trooping through my 
 brain — some pathetic, and some of grimmest humor, 
 as memory and the strange power of association calls 
 up one and another. 
 
246 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 "Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ; 
 Each takes its image as the other flies." 
 
 And then as I sometimes sit in reverie, communing 
 with the past, there comes before me, as if I saw it all 
 only y.esterday, an army of heroic figures. 
 
 Lee, the peerless, passing along Washington Street 
 on "Traveler" toward some officer's quarters, near the 
 hues in Blandford, riding alone, without courier or 
 stafT, as was his wont; of mien so dignified that no 
 man could presume on familiarity, and yet so gracious 
 that a child might approach him. 
 
 A. P. Hill, the preux chevalier, riding with easy 
 grace, alert, as if looking for the enemy, and facing 
 generally to the right, seeking probably to inspect his 
 lines where the weak point lay, and where finally he 
 met his end charging alone upon the Yankee pickets 
 and demanding their surrender. A. P. Hill, the in- 
 trepid leader for four years of the Light Division of 
 the Army of Northern Virginia, and the only man upon 
 whom both Lee and Jackson called as they fought their 
 battles over in their dying delirium, "Tell A. P. Hill 
 to prepare for action." 
 
 And Jeb Stuart, the dauntless trooper, — of whom a 
 Federal general said, "that he was the greatest cavalry 
 oftlcer ever foaled in America," — dashing along with 
 the careless abandon of a school boy, a smile on his 
 face, but the light of battle in his eye, ready for frolic 
 or fight, and shouting to the foot-sore infantry, "If you 
 want to have a good time, join the cavalry." 
 
 And Beale, — sturdy, bronzed and grave, at the head 
 of his steady Ninth Virginia troopers, passing my quar- 
 ters, — ordered to-day to the extreme left, and to-mor- 
 row to the extreme right, as dangers seemed to 
 threaten our flank, separated by twenty miles, and al- 
 ways exposed to especial danger. 
 
The War 247 
 
 And the Lees. Rooney — quiet, conservative, cour- 
 ageous, at the head of his trusty horsemen; whom I 
 once heard say, when advised to make a certain move- 
 ment, with the assurance that it would give him promo- 
 tion, though he would gain nothing else and would 
 probably lose heavily : "I would not have the little 
 fmger of one of my men unnecessarily hurt for all the 
 glory that could come to me," 
 
 And the other Lee — Fitz Lee, the "nephew of his 
 uncle," as his poHtical enemies after the war dubbed 
 him, but the dashing cavaHer, the hero of a hundred 
 fights, and the fortunate survivor of all ; the man whom 
 his State elevated to honor after the war, and whom 
 his former enemies received with enthusiastic applause, 
 and whom his reunited country rewarded with place 
 and position in acknowledgment of his worth and tal- 
 ents — but the man whom a political ring of the New 
 Virginia took down from his pedestal and placed one 
 of their own number upon it. 
 
 And General Cook, of Georgia, coming out of the 
 hot battle of Hare's Farm, Fort Stedman, and riding 
 up Lombard Street, itself swept by the shell of the 
 enemy, his bridle arm hanging by his side, and saluting 
 the surgeon as he approached him, "I never dreamed 
 of being struck, sir." Never dreamed of being struck! 
 When our troops, after carrying the Yankee works 
 over abatis and ditch that seemed impassable, were left 
 without support by somebody's blunder, and were 
 driven back with a loss that was akin to slaughter: 
 when regiments were decimated, some, as Ransom's 
 North Carolinians, almost destroyed — and the gallant 
 Cook "never dreamed of being struck !" 
 
 And Gordon — his wife, who had never left him dur- 
 ing all of his bloody campaigns, but had shared his hard- 
 ships and his dangers, almost literally in bivouac and in 
 battle, now sick at Mr. J. P. Williamson's, on Market 
 
24S Seventy-fit e Years in Old Firgiiiia 
 
 Street, whilst he, on the last bitter days of the siege, 
 was fighting fiercely, leading a forlorn hope, and send- 
 ing in a courier now and then to tell her of his safety ; 
 and finally, when all was lost and his stubborn veterans 
 were falling back on their last march to Appomattox, 
 coming himself, his face blackened with powder, and 
 seamed with stains as if the tears had forced themselves 
 through, coming to say "good-by" to the faithful, 
 brave woman whom he was compelled to leave behind. 
 I never realized before, as I did then, those inimitable 
 lines of Bayard Taylor — 
 
 "The bravest are the tenderest, 
 The loving are the daring." 
 
 And Mahone as he appeared in those last days! I 
 rarely saw him during the war except at his quarters. 
 He seemed to leave them seldom, except for some fight 
 which he was pushing out on the right. Quiet, un- 
 communicative, absorbed in his own thoughts, taking 
 care of his men ; such a dyspeptic that he could not 
 eat of the ordinary fare of the soldier, but keeping his 
 cow and his hens, for which provision was made that 
 they should be moved when he moved — but not in- 
 terfering, as nothing interfered with the persistence 
 and pertinacity with which he pursued his ends, viz: 
 to find the Yankees and to drive or capture them. 
 Whilst obedient to the commands of his superiors, he 
 exercised a most liberal right of private judgment 
 when he was sure of his facts. 
 
 It is not inopportune, in evidence of this element of 
 Mahone's character, to relate an incident which has 
 never gone out of my mind. After our bloody repulse 
 of the enemy at the second battle of Cold Harbor, in 
 June, 1864, and when both armies were at bay, Grant, 
 thwarted at every move to throw himself between Lee 
 and Richmond, and Lee watching his right with cease- 
 
The War 249 
 
 less care, and ever present to intercept, as he had at 
 the Wilderness, any move of the Federal army to turn 
 it. General Anderson reported to General Lee that the 
 enemy had disappeared from his front, and Mahone was 
 ordered to pursue with his division and to attack. 
 Mahone knew that Hancock with his corps was still 
 in his front, and to throw his division upon them could 
 only end in disaster as cruel as it was unnecessary. He 
 informed General Lee of the fact, but Anderson, as 
 corps commander, insisted on the accuracy of his in- 
 formation, and the order was reiterated to charge. 
 Mahone then directed the adjutant of his old brigade, 
 and the adjutant of Posey's Mississippi Brigade, to se- 
 lect fifty men from each brigade, one hundred in all, 
 who would go wherever he ordered them. When they 
 reported, he sent for Captain Chappel, of the Forty- 
 first Virginia, a Marylander, who had proven his cour- 
 age on many a field of carnage, and said to him, "Cap- 
 tain, take these men and charge the enemy in your 
 front." "General Mahone," said Chappel, "do you 
 order that we should charge Hancock's Corps ? That is 
 in our front." "Yes," replied Mahone, "and it it due 
 you, Captain, that I should give you an explanation. I 
 know that Hancock's Corps is in your front, but Dick 
 Anderson [General Anderson] has told General Lee 
 that they have retired, and he has ordered Mahone's 
 Division to pursue. To obey that order means the 
 annihilation of my division. I cannot afiford to do 
 that. It is much better to sacrifice one hundred of 
 you than the whole. I have sent for you because I 
 know that you will lead these men into the face of the 
 enemy, and because I know that they will follow you. 
 You have my orders, Captain. Good-by." The 
 charge was made, and in perhaps less than half an hour 
 Chappel returned to Mahone's tent with eleven only 
 of the hundred left, and, touching his cap, said, "Gen- 
 
250 Scz'cnfy-fii'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 eral, your order lias l)een obeyed." "Thank you, 
 Captain ; take the men to their quarters." The others 
 had all been killed or captured. I know of two men 
 still living who will bear me out in this remarkable 
 statement. One, Col. Hugh Smith, an honored citizen, 
 and Commissioner of the Revenue of this town; the 
 other, a prosperous and active business man, Mr. 
 Patrick Raftery. 
 
 But incidents of that fearful winter crowd so fast 
 upon the memory that one wearies of a retrospection 
 that he would fain put aside. Privation, hunger, cold, 
 sickness, wounds, death — the daily menu in a daily en- 
 tertainment — the recollection of which, like Banquo's 
 ghost, will not down at one's bidding. Dr. H. A. 
 White, in his "Life of Lee," says of that winter : "Win- 
 ter poured down its snows and its sleets upon Lee's 
 shelterless men in the trenches. Some of them bur- 
 rowed in the earth. Most of them shivered over feeble 
 fires kept burning along the lines. Scanty and thin 
 were the garments of these heroes, most of them being 
 clad in mere rags. Gaunt famine oppressed them every 
 hour. One quarter of a pound of rancid bacon and a 
 little meal was the daily ration assigned to each man 
 by the rules of the War Department. But even this 
 allowance failed when the railroads broke down and 
 left the meal and bacon piled up along the tracks in 
 Georgia and the Carolinas." [This was not so much 
 the result of the railroads breaking down, as the fault 
 of negligent and incompetent agents and officers. The 
 iron hand which had made itself felt in impressing corn 
 and meat from the citizens, relaxed its grasp when the 
 material was gathered at the depots.] "One-sixth of 
 this daily ration was the allotment for a considerable 
 time, and often this supply failed entirely. But with 
 dauntless hearts these gaunt-faced men endured the 
 ahnost ceaseless fire of Grant's mortar batteries, and 
 
The War 251 
 
 the frozen fingers of Lee's army of sharpshooters 
 clutched the musket barrel with an aim so steady that 
 Grant's men scarcely ever lifted their heads from their 
 bomb-proofs." 
 
 But these "dauntless, gaunt-faced veterans" held 
 their post until Lee — Lee whom they worshipped — 
 gave the order to leave the trenches, when they step- 
 ped out with martial tread, and entered on their last 
 march to Appomattox with cheerful, hopeful spirit, 
 with jest and cheer and song, as if assured victory were 
 awaiting them somewhere, anywhere that Lee called a 
 halt and formed his line of battle. Lee, sturdy of 
 heart, but not buoyed with hope, — for he knew what 
 was before him, — led them on with the same matchless 
 skill and the same unflinching courage which he had 
 shown from the Wilderness to Petersburg, and no man 
 could look in his face and read of the irreparable dis- 
 aster which he knew but too well awaited him. And 
 when the enemy had turned his right by their final 
 desperate effort at Five Forks, and broken his lines 
 in front of his quarters at the Turnbull house, and noth- 
 ing was left him but to retire, riding back toward Pe- 
 tersburg he said to one of his aides, "Colonel, this is a 
 sad business, but it is just as I told them at Richmond. 
 The line has been stretched until it has broken."* 
 
 "And as he continued slowly riding to the rear, the 
 shells from the enemy's advancing" batteries bursting 
 about him," quoting from White's "Life of Lee" again, 
 ■ — "he turned his head over his riglit shoulder, his cheeks 
 became flushed, and a sudden flash of his eye showed 
 with what reluctance he retired before the fire directed 
 upon him ; and he continued riding slowly toward his 
 inner line, a low earthwork in the western suburbs of 
 the city, where a small force was drawn up, still ardent, 
 
 * See Appendix. "Last Fight at Five Forks." 
 
252 Seven ty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 hopeful, defiant, and saluting the shells now bursting 
 above them, with cheers and laughter. It was plain 
 that the fighting spirit of his ragged troops remained 
 unbroken; and the welcome with which they received 
 him indicated their unw^avering confidence in him, de- 
 spite the untoward condition of afTairs." 
 
 What manner of man was he ? What manner of men 
 were they? Words cannot paint the courage and con- 
 stancy of the leader, nor the confidence and devotion 
 akin to worship with which he inspired his followers. 
 At the beginning of the year 1865 Lee had barely 40,- 
 000 men in the trenches extending forty miles from the 
 Chickahominy to Hatcher's Run. Grant had 110,000, 
 and from these he could draw at any time enough force 
 to continue his hammering upon our right, which he 
 knew must eventually beat down any resistance that 
 our decimated ranks could offer. On the 5th of 
 February he sent a larger force to capture or turn Lee's 
 defenses at Hatcher's Run, but this was met by the 
 Confederates, who, though outnumbered ten to one, 
 fought with their old-time vigor and fire, and the ene- 
 my was driven back upon their lines. After this fight, 
 lasting two days and nights of the severest weather, 
 General Lee wrote of his men : "Under these circum- 
 stances, heightened by assaults, and fire of the enemy, 
 some of the men had been without meat for three days, 
 and all were suffering from reduced rations and scanty 
 clothing; exposed to battle, cold, hail, and sleet. The 
 physical strength of the men must fail, if their cour- 
 age survives." 
 
 It was about this time, just after this fight, that Mr. 
 Davis made General Lee Commander-in-Chief of all of 
 the Confederate armies. Too late. President Davis 
 was ex-of^cio Commander-in-Chief of the armies of the 
 Confederate States, an office whose functions he had 
 filled, as far as possible, to the letter, since his removal 
 
The War 253 
 
 to Richmond ; and when he laid down his baton the 
 armies of the Confederate States were but a small com- 
 mand; and besides this, General Lee was a strict con- 
 structionist of the law which required of a subordinate 
 officer unquestioned obedience to his superior. Had 
 he been Commander-in-Chief, few believe that he would 
 have sat down in front of Petersburg, suffering" a siege 
 in which he had everything to lose and nothing to gain. 
 He knew but too well that his resources were well nigh 
 exhausted when he reached Petersburg; that the bril- 
 Hant battles he had fought on his way were but vic- 
 tories of Pyrrhus ; and that whilst he had inflicted upon 
 Grant losses quadruple to his own, yet the Federal 
 commander could replace every soldier lost with four 
 in his place, whilst the ranks in his own brave bat- 
 talions, thinned by continuous fighting, could never be 
 refilled. It was doubtless with the design of retiring 
 from his trenches that he made the last sortie on the 
 25th of March, when Gordon, at the head of the Sec- 
 ond Corps, made that brilliant charge on the enemy's 
 works at Fort Stedman, his soldiers tearing away the 
 abatis as they advanced, and carrying the enemy's 
 works by the bayonet. Longstreet, again too slow 
 with his supporting attachment, as he was too slow at 
 Gettysburg, failed to give Gordon his help, and our 
 victory was as ashes on the Hps. Gordon was com- 
 pelled to retire with a loss of 3,000 true and tried men, 
 worth more than twice the 2,000 which he had killed 
 or captured from Grant. Lee doubtless struck this 
 blow, hoping to cripple Grant temporarily, so as to get 
 an opportunity of taking his troops away safely and 
 joining Johnson, then making his way northward. If 
 it be a maxim of war to do always what you know that 
 your enemy does not wish you to do. this is the correct 
 conclusion which T have made. 
 
254 Scvcnty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Grant says, writing of this period of the war : "I had 
 spent days of anxiety lest each morning should bring 
 the report that the enemy had retreated the night be- 
 fore [from Petersburg]. I was finally convinced that 
 Sherman's crossing the Roanoke would be a signal for 
 Lee to leave. With Johnson and Lee combined, a 
 long, tedious and expensive campaign, consuming 
 most of the summer, might become necessary under 
 these tactics." 
 
 Grant sent three divisions of the Twenty-fourth and 
 Twenty-fifth Corps on the 27th of March to Hatcher's 
 Run, and on the 29th the Fifth and Second Corps, and, 
 on the same day, Sheridan to Dinwiddie Court House, 
 with 13,000 picked and well mounted cavalry. Tq 
 match this force Lee had transferred Pickett from his 
 left to his right with 10.000 infantry, and Fitz Lee with 
 5,000 cavalry on their "skeleton horses," who con- 
 fronted the enemy on the night of the 30th. The next 
 morning, after such fighting as can only be imagined, 
 Warren's Corps was forced back behind Gravelly Run, 
 and Sheridan from near Five Forks back to Dinwiddie 
 Court House. But to no avail. Both soon returned, 
 and with their overwhelming numbers enveloped our 
 thin gray lines and drove back all who were not killed 
 or captured. 
 
 Pickett's Division, which under its gallant leader had 
 been the pride of the army, and which was so nearly 
 destroyed at Gettysburg in their fatal charge at Ceme- 
 tery Hill, came out of this last fight with but few upon 
 its rolls. Five days afterwards, on the retreat to Ap- 
 |)omattox. I saw one Avho had been amongst its most 
 gallant staff ofificers, dispirited and oppressed with its 
 losses, throw himself on the ground and swear that he 
 would never again draw his sword from its scabbard. 
 Fitz Lee, with his horsemen, though losing heavily, 
 came out better, and with the remnant of his un- 
 
Tlie War 255 
 
 daunted cavaliers hit the enemy many a hard lick dur- 
 ing the seven days' retreat before the final surrender. 
 A staff officer in Fitz Lee's cavalry, a man who had 
 seen all the fighting and been a participant in every 
 battle in which Lee's Brigade of cavalry had ever been 
 engaged, a man whose courage and dash was the ad- 
 miration of the army, told me that he had never wit- 
 nessed such desperate fighting as Lee's troops made 
 on the last charge on that fatal ist of April; and that 
 nine colonels of cavalry went down in a space that he 
 could compass v/ith his eye. A lady upon whose plan- 
 tation this last fight occurred told me that in her yard 
 and lawn, covering not more than a dozen acres, the 
 dead horses were so numerous that it required days to 
 haul them away and bury them, and that the stench of 
 the carcasses was intolerable. It would seem that Five 
 Forks was really the Waterloo of the Confederacy in 
 Virginia. 
 
 After the repulse of Fitz Lee and Pickett at Five 
 Forks on the morning of the ist of April, and the 
 breaking of our lines near the Turnbull house on the 
 morning of the 2d, it was evident, of course, that we 
 would be compelled to evacuate both Richmond and 
 Petersburg, and Lee sent a dispatch to Breckenridge, 
 Secretary of War, at Richmond, which was delivered 
 to Mr. Davis at St. Paul's Church about eleven o'clock. 
 The purport of this dispatch was that there was no 
 prospect of holding his position here longer than night, 
 if as long as that ; that he should withdraw to the north 
 side of the Appomattox at night, and advised the with- 
 drawal of all the troops from the James River at the 
 same time, with fhe view of concentrating all of our 
 forces near the Danville Railway at some point to be 
 designated later. This point was designated later in 
 the afternoon as Amelia Court House. 
 
256 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 The troops were safely withdrawn from both Peters- 
 burg and Richmond, owing to the skill with which they 
 were handled, or to the lack of promptness and energy 
 of pursuit on the part of the enemy. On the 5th the 
 most of them had reached Amelia Court House, where 
 they were told that supplies awaited them, and that 
 food would be supplied for the whole army. On reach- 
 ing the Court House this was found to be a mistake. 
 The supply train, either through bad management 
 or treachery, a question never yet satisfactorily set- 
 tled, had been sent on to Richmond, and the 
 enemy got our rations. This was a fatal blunder. 
 Lee was detained twenty-four hours, endeavoring 
 to collect subsistence and horses, and in the 
 meantime Grant had arrived with two corps, the 
 Second and Sixth, and had reached Jetersville, 
 on the Richmond and Danville R. R. above 
 Ameha Court House, and thrown this superior force 
 across Lee's track. Had Lee been able to provision 
 his army at Amelia Court House he could no doubt 
 have cut through Sheridan's cavalry, which was in his 
 advance, and made his way to Danville, as he had in- 
 tended to do when he retired from Petersburg and 
 Richmond; and joining Johnston would have given 
 the enemy a protracted and desperate struggle, per- 
 haps have won a telling victory. 
 
 Grant had left his base of supplies also, and could not 
 have followed far with his large army, dependent upon 
 the country for subsistence which Lee drained as he 
 marched before him. Indeed, I heard a general offi- 
 cer of the Confederate Army, who after the war be- 
 came a member of Congress, say that it was currently 
 l)elieved in the Union Army that IMeade did order the 
 ])ursuit to be stayed at Amelia Court House, and that 
 vSheridan sent a courier to find Grant wherever he could 
 be found, and to beg him to set aside this order and to 
 
The War 257 
 
 press the pursuit. Moreover, Grant now held the in- 
 side track en route to Danville, and could mass a 
 heavy body of troops at any time in Lee's way if he 
 persisted in his effort to push through to Danville. 
 Nothing was left the latter then but to turn north- 
 ward of west, and making the old stage road from Rich- 
 mond to Lynchburg his way, strive to reach the latter 
 city, where he could draw supplies and where he would 
 meet with some reinforcements. Under these circum- 
 stances he left Amelia Court House on the night of the 
 5th, taking the route indicated. The next day, the 
 6th, Sheridan, ever active, indefatigable, and audacious, 
 interjected a body of his troops between Lee's column, 
 and then with the Second Corps, or Sixth, or perhaps 
 a part of both, fell upon the rear of the Confederate 
 Second Corps under Gordon, and captured 8,000 of 
 our men, including six of our generals — Custis Lee 
 amongst them. This was at Sailor's Creek, and the 
 troops were those who had been withdrawn from Rich- 
 mond and its defenses at the same time that Lee had 
 withdrawn his forces from Petersburg. Amongst them 
 was the Naval Brigade, or Reserves, under Admiral 
 Tucker, of the Confederate Navy. It is said that this 
 old hero of the quarter-deck did not rehsh the idea of 
 "giving up the ship" and of being included in the sur- 
 render of the forces with which he had kept company 
 for four days, and drawing his men up, prepared to 
 give the enemy the marline-spike and cutlass, and to 
 force his way through to Lee. I was told that it re- 
 quired not only the authority of the senior offtcer com- 
 manding the Confederate troops now lost to the army 
 and laying down their arms, but the earnest protest 
 of some Union general, who had gotten amongst them, 
 to convince him that he was surrounded, and that to 
 attempt to cut through would end in wholesale 
 slaughter. 
 
 17 
 
258 S event y-i\i'€ Years in Old Virginia 
 
 In the confusion following- this catastrophe, the 
 blocking of the roads with wagons and artillery, and the 
 rushing of stragglers, or of some who had fortunately 
 and honorably gotten out of the difficulty, I met Gen- 
 eral Lee, without especial escort, as I had so often seen 
 him, riding apparently back toward the rear, as if seek- 
 ing by his presence to stay the rout and bring some 
 sort of order out of the hopeless chaos. Thas was the 
 last time that I ever saw General Lee during the war, 
 and his face was as placid and his manner as perfect as if 
 on dress parade he was reviewing his victorious pla- 
 toons. The next and last time I ever saw him was in 
 Petersburg, whither he had come to witness the mar- 
 riage of his son, Gen. W. H. F. Lee, to Miss Tabb 
 Boiling. I dined with him at General Alahone's, wdio 
 then occupied the house on the corner of Sycamore 
 and Marshall Streets, now occupied by Mr. R. B. Davis. 
 Dignified, but grave, he was accessible to all, yet left 
 upon all the same impress of his own superiority. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 The Surrender and Events Following. 
 
 The 2nd of April, 1865 — I Prepare to Evacuate — A Pathetic Scene — • 
 I Note the Absence of My Dog Jack — A "Borrowed" Horse — 
 On to Amelia Court House — An Invitation from Mahone — 
 Romulus Given His "Free Papers" — A Brave Quartermaster — 
 I Lose All My Possessions Through a Yankee Cavalry Raid — 
 The Asset of a Broken Concern — "A Swig From the Same 
 Canteen" — The Best Forager I Ever Saw — Signs of Demoraliza- 
 tion — Fall Into the Hands of the Enemy — I give Away a Pair 
 of Spurs — Interview With General Devlin — An Invitation to a 
 Much-Needed Breakfast — I Show the "Sign of Distress" — Or- 
 dered to be Paroled — A Night Adventure — Mahone Again and 
 a Parole Blank — An Inhospitable Reception and the Very Op- 
 posite — A Question of Boots — With My Wife and Children Once 
 More — A disagreeable Incident — The Finale of the Old Regime. 
 
 But to return to Petersburg and follow the fortunes 
 which befell me on that direful day of the 2d of April, 
 1865, and the seven consecutive days of the retreat to 
 Appomattox Court House. My quarters were then 
 on West Washington Street, on the south side, and 
 about half way between South and Dunlop Streets. 
 About eleven o'clock A. M. on that day, Col. Peyton, 
 of General Lee's stafif, riding rapidly in from the direc- 
 tion of the Turnbull house, General Lee's headquar- 
 ters, drew up his horse at my door and informed me 
 that Gen. A. P. Hill had been killed, our lines broken, 
 and that Petersburg would be evacuated that evening. 
 He had no orders for me, but said that mine would 
 come later. They came pretty soon afterwards, and 
 were to the effect that, taking all the surgeons and all 
 the hospital attaches that could be spared, with any 
 wounded offtcers that wished to go, and were able to 
 travel, I should leave as early as possible, and go to 
 
26o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Amelia Court House, where we would find further 
 orders, and where transportation would be furnished 
 to Danville, Virginia. 
 
 After looking into matters, I saw that but few sur- 
 geons or hospital attaches could be spared from the 
 post, and I ordered to be ready for marching, four sur- 
 geons, as many hospital attaches (nurses), two am- 
 bulances, one chaplain, and several young colored men 
 who had been serving in various capacities about the 
 hospitals. One of these was my valet Romulus, whom 
 his mother brought to me just before I left, with the 
 injunction to "follow marster to the end of the earth ; 
 and if he don't come back, don't you come back 
 either." Early in the afternoon I started my little 
 cortege over the river at Campbell's Bridge, and di- 
 rected them to take the road to Chesterfield Court 
 House, and to pursue that until I overtook them. In 
 the meantime I waited at the door of the Confederate 
 Hospital, located in a large tobacco factory at the cor- 
 ner of Jones and Washington Streets, as if stayed by 
 the horrible fascination of the sights and sounds of 
 that terrible Sabbath afternoon. The city was envi- 
 roned on the east, the south, and the west, and the 
 fighting was as fierce as if men could not be satiated 
 with blood. 
 
 As I stood at the hospital door, loath to leave my 
 home and city, — for I felt that I should never see 
 either again as I saw them then, if I ever saw them at 
 all, the wounded were being hurried in from ambu- 
 lances and upon stretchers, their moans mingling with 
 the cries of women, the shrieking and bursting of shell, 
 and the hoarse orders of men in authority, — two scenes 
 caught my eye, as indelibly fixed there now as on that 
 Holy Sabbath eve which the great God had seemingly 
 given up to the devils in pandemonium. A stretcher 
 was borne in the gateway by four soldiers, just from 
 
The Surrender and Events Following 261 
 
 the near front, one of them crying, "My poor Captain, 
 my poor Captain; the best man that ever lived." A 
 large, finely-made man he was, his right arm shot 
 away at the shoulder joint, and the quivering, bleeding 
 flesh soiled with dust and stained with powder, and 
 filled with the shreds of the gray sleeve that had been 
 hurriedly cut ofif. Something moved me, as the bear- 
 ers halted, to uncover the face over which some rude 
 but kindly hand had thrown a piece of dirty blanket. 
 Great God ! There lay before me a friend of my earl- 
 iest boyhood. Years had passed since we parted. I 
 had known him as the gentlest, most lovable of men, 
 living in a quiet, country home amidst a simple-hearted, 
 peace-loving people, an Arcadia in which war was not 
 even a dream. But he did not know me. His honest, 
 brave life was fast ebbing away, and the mist was 
 gathering over his eyes which could only be swept of¥ 
 in the sunlight of that country where the nations shall 
 learn war no more. 
 
 I turned away from the scene heart-sick, when a poor 
 woman caught me by the hand, crying, "Doctor, will you 
 not get some one to help me carry my poor husband 
 home ? I can take care of him and nurse him better than 
 any one here — there he is." And there, lying only a few 
 feet away in the hospital yard, where with others he 
 had been hurriedly brought in and put down anywhere^ 
 that space could be found, was a private, an humble 
 citizen, not subject to regular service, but belonging 
 to the second-class militia, who had been summoned 
 to the defense of the city when our lines grew so thin. 
 He had fallen in battle at a spot near where, in peace, 
 he had lived with his wife and little ones, and now he 
 lay, a fourth part of his skull carried away with a frag- 
 ment of a shell, exposing his brain, leaving him with 
 some little automatic life, but of course not conscious, 
 whilst his poor wife was striving to get from him some 
 
2()2 Sci'oily-fli'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 sign of recognition, and begging that he might be car- 
 ried home. I could only stop to tell her that my right 
 to order was at an end ; but if a thousand men were 
 at my beck none could help her now. I could see no 
 more, but mounting my horse and riding slowly along, 
 I crossed the river at Campbell's Bridge, and on the 
 heights at Ettricks took one last look at Petersburg as 
 it was — Petersburg, the city for a hundred years of 
 happy homes, of brave men, and of fair women. When 
 I returned two months afterwards, the collar was upon 
 the neck of the freemen and the serf held the chain. 
 
 Following the road toward Chesterfield Court 
 Plouse, I soon overtook my little cortege, and found 
 all present save one. This was a bob-tailed, bob-eared, 
 rough-haired Scotch terrier, about twelve years of age. 
 He had seen no little service, and he showed it. When 
 it suited his views to answer at all, he would answer to 
 the name, of Jack. He was irritable, self-as- 
 serting, frail as to virtue, — his name disagreeably as- 
 sociated with any number of scandals, — but full of faith 
 in his master, and irrevocably attached to his master's 
 fortunes or misfortunes. I had given my chief of am- 
 bulance orders, before leaving Petersburg, that who- 
 ever might be left behind, Jack should go ; and that 
 proper transportation should be furnished him. He 
 had always had too high an appreciation of himself to 
 walk, and had ridden more thousands of miles, had 
 fallen out of more vehicles, and been run over oftener 
 than any other dog in the world. I assert this without 
 fear of contradiction. He had but few friends, and but 
 little capacity to make them, and some difference of 
 opinion on the subject of riding had occurred between 
 him and the chief of ambulance before the start from 
 Petersburg, and hence Jack had been left behind. I 
 said to the chief, "Return to the city at once, and bring 
 me my dog, or fall into the hands of the enemy your- 
 
TJie Surrender and Events Follozvi)i<i 26 
 
 o 
 
 self." The man looked at me for a minute as if he 
 would question such an order; but four years of dis- 
 cipline and obedience had not lost its force on the first 
 night of the retreat, so he turned off and retraced his 
 steps to Petersburg. I never expected to see him 
 again; but late at night, after we had gone into camp 
 about five miles from the city, he returned on horse- 
 back, and leading Jack by a chain of white handker- 
 chiefs. He said that he had borrozved the horse. Sol- 
 diers generally had but little difficulty in horrozving a 
 horse, provided they could find one without a rider in 
 hailing distance, so that I did not inquire where he had 
 borrowed it. I did have some curiosity to know where 
 he got the handkerchiefs though, and ventured to ask 
 him. "Well, sir." he said, "they are breaking up every- 
 thing in town, and looting the stores, and I found these 
 handkerchiefs at the head of Old Street." 
 
 We were all very tired after the stirring events of 
 the day, and were soon sound asleep. We were awak- 
 ened, however, in some two or three hours by firing a 
 few miles to our rear, and finally a heavy explosion in 
 the same direction. \Yt rose to our feet, and thinking 
 there was danger of pursuit, determined to move on. 
 Jack, however, who had been sharing my blanket, be- 
 came demoralized, and sought individual safety in in- 
 dividual flight. I never saw him again until my return 
 to Petersburg some two months subsequent to this date, 
 when he was one of the first to meet and greet me, and 
 his expressions of joy were very effusive. Some one 
 had evidently taken good care of him, and I heard from 
 some of the hospital people whom I had left behind me 
 that he had gone over to the enemy, as did some other 
 dogs of whom we had a right to expect better things. 
 However, the prodigal returned to stay, and when I 
 left Petersburg a few days afterwards in an ambulance, 
 seeking my family in central North Carolina, he was 
 
264 Seventy- five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 ready to secure his place in the vehicle. When I 
 reached my wife and children he went to them as faith- 
 fully as if he had never turned his back on a friend; 
 but for the balance of his life he would never follow me 
 again. I suspect he had the memory of many hot places 
 into which I had led him. His subsequent history is 
 not without interest, but its details would lead me far- 
 ther from my subject than its importance would justify. 
 I will only add that he was ever a poor soldier, and al- 
 ways left when the firing began, — not always without 
 company, — impelled by thirst or some other consider- 
 ation of a personal character. But his service in civil 
 life in a long career entitled him, in my opinion, to 
 civil sepulture, and his grave may be found in the sec- 
 tion marked "Claiborne" in the Old Blandford Ceme- 
 tery, and his epitaph in the third chapter of Ecclesias- 
 tes, 20th and 21st verses. 
 
 But to return to our story. With the exception of 
 Jack, therefore, our party moved, and after a tedious 
 night's march over execrable roads (the country roads 
 were no better ante-bellum than now), we reached 
 Chesterfield Court House about nine or ten o'clock 
 next morning, and found Mahone's Division drawn up 
 at right angles across the road. They received us with 
 cheers, and opened ranks for us to pass through. With 
 these bronzed veterans, the heroes of an hundred fights 
 behind us, we dismissed all fear of pursuit, and passing 
 along a few hundred yards, laid down to rest and await 
 further orders. After some hours they came. "Take 
 the right-hand road to Goode's Bridge ; rendezvous at 
 Amelia Court House, there rations and transportation 
 by rail to Danville will be furnished you." 
 
 We re-commenced our march, but did not reach 
 Goode's Bridge that night, bivouacking somewhere 
 near, just on the side of the road. We had not yer 
 struck the stream of the retreating army, with its im- 
 
The Surrender and Bvenfs Follon'ing 265 
 
 peclimenta of baggage wagons, ambulances, ammuni- 
 tion trains, etc., but late in the afternoon we passed a 
 typical old Virginia mansion near the road, and on the 
 well-kept lawn, under patriarchal oaks. General Ma- 
 hone was seated, with his staff, evidently awaiting 
 something. He recognized me — indeed, I had been 
 one of his early friends — and called to me to dismount, 
 tie my horse, and "come and get something to eat." 
 My habits of obedience were too well established, after 
 four years of service, to permit me to refuse, so I joined 
 the party, telling my people to go on, but to await me 
 before going into camp. Butter-milk, fried chicken, 
 and ash cake were soon brought out under the shade 
 of the trees, and we enjoyed the hospitable repast as 
 only soldiers could do "who had nowhere to sleep and 
 nothing to eat for days." As soon as we had finished 
 our repast the General said, "It is time we were off." 
 
 I rode along with him leisurely for an hour or so be- 
 fore we came up with our men, talking more of the 
 past — in which we had many things of interest in com- 
 mon — than of the future, upon which neither of us 
 looked as of much promise. After a little time he 
 reined up his horse, and looking at me gravely said, 
 "Doctor, what are you going to do now?" I told him 
 of my plans, or rather of my orders. He replied, "Take 
 my advice, send your detachment along with one of 
 your surgeons, and stay with me. If any troops get 
 out of this trouble, Mahone's Division will get 
 through." I had great confidence in Mahone, and in 
 his resources and his men, scarred and bronzed in cam- 
 paign and battle for four long years ; I believed in him 
 and I believed in them ; but my little company had 
 gone on under my orders and I felt that I had better 
 follow them, and so I said, "General, you have a very 
 good surgeon on your staff." "Yes," he said, "there 
 is Wood." "Well then, as you have no need of my 
 
266 Scrciily-frir ]'cars in Old J'irg'uiia 
 
 service, I will go on, though I thank you for the com- 
 pliment you pay me, and appreciate your kindness." 
 "Go on then," he replied; "but you will be sorry that 
 you did not remain with Mahone's Division." We 
 shall see in the denouement how far the wisdom of my 
 course was justified. 
 
 We went into camp that night near Amelia Court 
 House, and next morning I arose early, and mounting 
 my horse rode to that place for the purpose of getting 
 further orders and the transportation which had been 
 promised me. Just before reaching there I came upon 
 a bivouac of officers — two generals and several other 
 officers of high command. I recognized Maj. Thos. 
 Branch amongst them, who introduced me, and as they 
 were just going to breakfast, invited me to join them. 
 I declined this civility, but asked where I could see or 
 communicate with General Lee, or one of his staff, 
 making known the object of my wishes. They could 
 give me no information except that the rations which 
 we expected to get there had gone on to Richmond, and 
 that as to transportation by rail, that the Danville Rail- 
 road was in the hands of the enemy. More than this, 
 that if the army continued to follow the road — the 
 country road — to the left and parallel to the one which 
 we followed yesterday, a fight would be in order 
 very soon. Indeed, a desultory firing was heard just 
 then, and the officers mounting their horses moved off 
 to the front, Major Branch and I retiring. 
 
 On getting back to the road which we had been fol- 
 lowing the day before, we found that the whole army 
 train had been ordered to follow the same road, as 
 promising more safety, or less probability of being in- 
 terrupted by the enemy. I got my cortege into line 
 — wagon, ambulance, buggy, etc. — after some scurry- 
 ing and SAvearing (the latter done only by the inferior 
 officers), and took up the line of n^arch. we did not 
 
The Siirrcndcv and Brents Folloiving 267 
 
 know whither. Only one who has followed a large army 
 can know how slowly, and with how many halts, a wa- 
 gon train can move. A broken axle or a balky horse 
 can detain the whole line for hours. One wagon can 
 hardly find opportunity to pass another, and when such 
 a thing is attempted, it is met with a storm of obloquy 
 and opprobrious language that even a quartermaster's 
 nerves become shaken. Being well mounted on a fine 
 black mare which I had gotten from an impressing of- 
 ficer the day before, and which was too high strung for 
 artillery, I rode along the line to and fro for some 
 hours, exchanging views with an occasional comrade 
 with whom I would meet. 
 
 I soon became convinced that unless our enemy were 
 of the most listless and unenterprising character, that 
 the wagon train would soon come to grief, and my lit- 
 tle party with it. I called to Romulus — the colored 
 boy, who had been a favorite servant at home, and 
 the one whom his mother had brought to me upon 
 leaving Petersburg and bidden him to "follow mars- 
 ter to the end of the earth" — and said to him : 
 "Boy, no Yankee shall ever claim that he gave you 
 your freedom. I will free you right here." Getting 
 down from my horse, I wrote for him what was known 
 at the South before the war as his "free papers," and 
 giving him a knife as a memento of his master, — if he 
 never saw him again. — and as much money as I could 
 spare, I told him to follow me as long as it was safe for 
 him, but when things became too hot to skedaddle in 
 any direction which seemed to be the safest. He pock- 
 eted my bequests and went along with the cortege, but 
 evidently the whole affair seemed to him a good joke. 
 
 I remained talking to some friends, knowing that I 
 could overtake the party in five minutes at any time, 
 and had ridden forward not more than a mile when I 
 came to an open space on the side of the road, just at 
 
:^G8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the beginning of which some one had evidently been 
 camping, and left a good deal of forage on the ground 
 when leaving. I got off my mare and took the bit out 
 of her mouth, determined to give her a good square 
 meal. She had just begun to eat when some one cried 
 "Yankees!'' I looked across the field, and a few hun- 
 dred yards away, coming from a road that ran at right 
 angles to ours, there was a company of Yankee cav- 
 alry, and there was a general rush of teamsters and 
 stragglers back to the rear. I remembered that the 
 sergeant from whom I got my mare the day before 
 had told me that she was "hard to bit." and I thought 
 that if she should be a fool now% we both would have a 
 short shrift. She behaved very well, however, and I 
 soon bitted her and w^as on her back, but in mounting 
 I dropped one of my gauntlets, a scarce article at that 
 time, and one which I could illy afford to lose, and 
 started to dismount and recover it ; but never did cav- 
 alry arrive so rapidly and in such numbers! I had just 
 time to dash out into the woods on the opposite side of 
 the road, and make my retreat as fast as the impedi- 
 ments of riding through the woods would permit, which 
 was not. very fast, but which gave me an opportunity 
 to see that the enemy were comparatively few in num- 
 ber, and lining along the road were shooting the mules 
 and horses, with no other idea than obstructing the 
 road and disabling us by destroying the teams. 
 
 There were a number of our men rushing back 
 through the woods, many of them armed, and I begged 
 them to halt and save the train ; calling their attention 
 to the small number of the enemy, and to the fact that 
 they were not shooting at the men but at the horses 
 and mules. One old soldier whom I tried to stop look- 
 ed at me in a dazed kind of a way, and said, "If you are 
 fool enough to believe that, you can stop, I am going 
 on." I looked at the stars upon my collar, and thoug^ht 
 
The Surrender and Events Pollozving 269 
 
 of endeavoring to enforce my authority, when a stream 
 of stragglers rushed by, increasing in number, and 
 making a panic that was irresistible. In a few minutes 
 a goodly number of us came out together in the road, 
 a little out of range of the fire. Here I noticed a col- 
 onel of our cavalry, afoot and trying to stay the rout; 
 but they paid no more attention to him than to me. 
 Just then my attention was directed to a quartermas- 
 ter who had gotten his wagon as a sort of a breast- 
 work in a very narrow part of the road, on either side of 
 which was a growth utterly impenetrable to cavalry, 
 and seeing the advantages of his position, was begging 
 the men to "stand and shoot." One man said he had 
 no gun. "Plenty of guns and ammunition in my wa- 
 gon," said our doughty quartermaster, and seeing me 
 at the same time, he jumped upon the pole of his wa- 
 gon, or something near it, and shouted, "Major, you 
 have been to the front, speak to the men and tell them 
 how few of the enemy there are who are attacking us." 
 Continuing his harangue (his words are as fresh in my 
 memory as if yesterday were that eventful day), he 
 cried : "Stand, men ! Stand, men ! Right here ! Five 
 determined men can stop this whole rout! Stop; for 
 your country's sake, stop ! For General Lee's sake, 
 stop ! For God's sake, stop ! For my sake, stop !" 
 
 In the meantime I was so attracted by his earnest- 
 ness, if not moved by his eloquence, that I did not note 
 the situation as accurately as I should otherwise have 
 done, and I was rather startled into consciousness of 
 the real condition of things by two or three of the 
 enemy riding up in most disagreeable proximity, and 
 pop, pop, pop (not at the horses this time) from their 
 carbines, which purported to shoot sixteen times with- 
 out reloading, but which seemed to me to shoot more 
 nearly sixteen hundred times. My quartermaster made 
 fight, I think — at least somebody fired a gun ; then the 
 
2^0 Seventy-fire Years in Old Virginia 
 
 quartermaster went down with a broken arm, I heard 
 afterwards, though I never saw him again. My mare 
 not reHshing the situation and being under fire for the 
 first time, whirled around with me, and I discovered 
 that I held the field alone ; she discovered the same 
 thing, and several other things it seemed, which lent 
 wings to her feet, and without at all consulting my 
 wishes, but in full accord with my desires, she left in- 
 continently, I lying upon her neck and not knowing 
 what minute I should receive an inglorious wound in 
 the most exposed portion of my person. 
 
 The fugitives must have made very good time, as it 
 was nearly a quarter of an hour before I overtook any 
 of them, and then I ran into an officer, whom I recog- 
 nized by the richness of his expletives as a North Caro- 
 lina quartermaster and an old friend. Then there were 
 several other officers, one with three stars upon his 
 collar, before whom I had appeared in a court martial 
 a few months before. Some one of the stragglers call- 
 ed out, "fall in, Company Q," but it was noted as a 
 piece of pleasantry not at all appropriate to the occa- 
 sion, and as a liberty for which any private should be 
 condemned. My quartermaster friend and I left the 
 road and went across the field in the direction of a par- 
 allel road, where we thought we might be able to place 
 ourselves under the aegis of some of Lee's fighting 
 men. We had gone but a few hundred yards when a 
 regiment of infantry came at a double-quick right 
 toward us from a valley to our left, and in some pe- 
 culiar light reflected upon them seemed dressed in blue, 
 so we prepared to surrender to the Yankees. It turned 
 out, however, to be the Twelfth North Carolina, sent 
 to rescue the wagon train ; and they were followed by 
 a regiment of cavalry, sent to interrupt Sheridan's 
 ubiquitous troops. We followed them back to the lo- 
 cation where we had left our eloquent quartermaster 
 
The Siirrciider and Events Following 271 
 
 on the pole of his wagon; but the enemy had gone, 
 and so had the quartermaster. We heard afterwards 
 that he had escaped, though with a broken arm. Pass- 
 ing farther on we found that they had shot a number 
 of horses and mules, though somebody had evidently 
 stood their ground, — some wagoner I suppose, — for 
 several dead troopers with their grayish yellow-trim- 
 med uniform lay on the ground. One who had fallen 
 ofif his horse was so drunk that we could not consci- 
 entiously kill him, or conveniently take him prisoner, 
 and we left him lying near the road. My little cortege 
 was struck just about this place. 
 
 Romulus had been taken prisoner, with several oth- 
 ers, but the surgeons had escaped into the woods, and 
 came up as we arrived. One of our party, a handsome 
 3'oung lady of Suffolk, Virginia, Miss R., who was tak- 
 ing care of her brother, Capt. R., a cavalry officer with 
 a broken arm, and who was seated by him in my com- 
 missary wagon, refused to leave the wagon when they 
 ordered her, and defied them to burn it, and so saved a 
 few of our pitiful stores. She also gave evidence that 
 somebody had done some shooting, as she showed sev- 
 eral bullet holes in her dress. They took her brother 
 away from her, however, and made him a prisoner. I 
 regretted that she had not had her place in my quarter- 
 master's wagon, as stored in my baggage was a military 
 cloak of great value, too fine for any officer under the 
 grade of lieutenant general, which I had never worn, 
 and which I had hoped to save for my three little girls, 
 who had been refugeeing during the war in Louisburg, 
 North Carolina. This cloak had been sent me as a 
 present. It came from abroad, I presume, through the 
 blockade, and its price in Confederate money was esti- 
 mated at fifteen hundred dollars. Besides this, I lost 
 every article of clothing I had in the world except that 
 which I had on my person. My greatest loss was a 
 
2^2 Sci'e)\ty-i\ve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 diary, kept from the days of the Charleston Conven- 
 tion, 1861, which inaugurated the war of secession. 
 This was bound in vellum and bristled with facts that 
 none could gainsay. I have felt its loss particularly in 
 evolving these reminiscences. 
 
 We got our young lady friend aboard the wagon of 
 a quartermaster of the North Carolina regiment, where 
 she found agreeable companionship in a Miss D., of 
 New Orleans, and a Mrs. S., of Raleigh, North Caro- 
 lina, who with some other ladies were trying to get 
 out, or keep out, of the enemy's lines. I saw this wa- 
 gon party the next day, and judging from the music 
 and laughter which issued from under its cover, their 
 misfortunes had not seriously affected their spirits. 
 The day after we met these ladies again under different 
 circumstances. With the surgeons of my little party, 
 four of us, I had gone forward to the front, and after a 
 short time came upon General Longstreet and several 
 of his staff, apparently lounging at rest. Still going 
 on and suspecting nothing, we suddenly came upon a 
 line of battle, the men strung out diagonally across the 
 road at an eminence. Infantry; no artillery to attract 
 attention, but some little stir going on in the front. 
 Just then an ambulance was hurriedly driven up, and a 
 lady in it cried, "Don't take me right into the battle! 
 Don't take me right into the battle !" I rode up to see 
 what service I could render, when a young infantry of- 
 ficer took hold of the mules and rapidly drove them 
 down under the shelter of the hill. We followed and 
 found other surgeons there rigging an extemporan- 
 eous table, and evidently preparing for sanguinary 
 work. Strangely enough there had gotten together 
 our lady friends of the day before at the same place — ■ 
 Miss D. and Miss R., and the lady in the ambulance 
 was Mrs. S. Feeling secure from the firing, which be- 
 gan in earnest, we made our arrangements to stop and 
 
The Surrender and Bvents Follozving 273 
 
 give what assistance we could as surgeons. Indeed, 
 one poor fellow had just been brought in, shot through 
 the knee, and we were contemplating amputation, when 
 a courier rode up hastily from General Longstreet, or 
 General Lee, with orders for the surgeons to leave at 
 once and to leave the ladies and the ambulance and the 
 wagon and everything, showing us a path through the 
 woods by which we could make our way out safely. We 
 left at once, of course, after a hurried adieu to our 
 friends, who soon fell into the hands of the Yankees. 
 We subsequently heard that they were treated with 
 great courtesy, and were sent back to Petersburg. 
 
 But we must go back to the scene of our personal 
 disaster. Of my cortege, besides the surgeons who 
 escaped into the woods and returned as the fighting 
 troops came up, there were two colored hospital at- 
 taches who came also, preferring, as they said, to take 
 their chances in Dixie rather than go North ; and my 
 orderly, a Moravian from Salem-Winston, who would 
 not fight on account of religious scruples, but who as 
 a forager and factotum was invaluable. Indeed, the 
 reason why he was not captured was that he was ofif on 
 a foraging expedition when the train was attacked. He 
 returned on a very fine young horse, which I suspect 
 the enemy had taken and found unmanageable and re- 
 leased. Buchhart — that was my man's name — rode 
 him during the balance of the route to Appomattox, 
 though I saw him get some hard falls. However, one 
 animal was left — a mule belonging to the Confederate 
 Government, but which I had hitched to a buggy be- 
 longing to myself, and used as a supplement to my 
 means of transportation. He had escaped the bullets 
 of the enemy, and was standing just out of the road, 
 in the midst of the general destruction, with appear- 
 ance so forlorn and lugubrious that it was impossible 
 not to smile. There was also near him a sad and seedy- 
 
2/4 Seveiily-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 looking- darky. I called the man to me, and hastily 
 writing, on the pommel of my saddle, a note in dog- 
 gerel, directed him to take the mule and buggy to a 
 handsome residence a few hundred yards away, and 
 deliver both to the gentleman who lived there. I had 
 no idea who this gentleman was, nor did I dream of 
 ever hearing from mule or man again. But I did. The 
 gentleman was an honored member of my profession, 
 who must have thought such a note very absurd and 
 very unfitting an occasion of so much disaster. But 
 in the June following I received a letter, sent somehow 
 by the doctor, — mails were not reestablished then, — 
 saying that he had a mule and buggy in good condition 
 belonging to me, and that if I would send for them 
 he would take pleasure in returning the same. I per- 
 suaded an impecunious Confederate comrade, who had 
 just been released from Point Lookout, to go for them. 
 sending my most grateful acknowledgments, and an 
 humble apology for the levity of the ill-timed doggerel 
 with which I had committed them to his charge. It is 
 perhaps now difficult to understand how one could re- 
 tain such lightness under circumstances so depressing, 
 but soldiers — poor fellows — often lightened their mis- 
 ery by merriment. Many a joke was made amidst the 
 fiercest fighting, and many a brilliant sally was spoken 
 by lips sealed the next moment in death. My comrade 
 came safely back in a few days, escaping on the road 
 the dangers of Yankees, and stragglers from both flags, 
 who had the most peculiar and free notion of the sanc- 
 tity of private property, especially if such property 
 were represented by horse or mule flesh. For some 
 time after that date horse stealing was not rated as 
 grand larceny. Comrade S. drove up to my quarters, 
 and alighting from the buggy announced laconically, 
 "Here's your mule," and disappeared. I think he had 
 possibly been weighing in his thoughts some of the 
 
The Surrender and Events Polloiving 275 
 
 difficulties which perplexed mine, and as he had no 
 interest in settling them, withdrew from the scene. 
 
 The question was, to whom did the mule belong? 
 He was the asset (no pun) of a broken concern — the 
 Confederate Government, — which had gone into the 
 hands of a receiver; and many a representative of that 
 receiver appeared on our streets in the person of a 
 Yankee quartermaster. I really felt some conscien- 
 tious scruple myself; besides, my old comrades, who 
 had gotten hold of the story, jeered me, and so I con- 
 cluded that I would seek counsel of "my friends the 
 enemy," stating a supposed case. I did so, and ap- 
 proached an officer, whom I did not know, but who 
 seemed a good fellow, and asked him his views. He 
 took hold of the question promptly and practically, 
 made it appear at once that he understood the situa- 
 tion, and paid me the compliment to say, "If you have 
 a mule of that sort and don't sell him at once and put 
 the money at once in your pocket, you are a bigger fool 
 than I take you to be." I acted upon this suggestion 
 without delay, sold my mule for seventy-five dollars, 
 and my buggy for seventy-five (in greenbacks), and 
 with this capital stock commenced life anew. 
 
 But again I anticipate my story. Let me go back 
 to the scene of the wreckage of the train of which I 
 have spoken. It had been struck by one of the ma- 
 rauding bands of Sheridan's picked cavalry which hung 
 on the flanks of our army night and day, and which 
 under guides knew the country well — the cross-roads 
 by which they could fall on one side or other of our 
 wagon trains, capture, burn, disable and destroy, and 
 safely retire on the appearance of fighting men. The 
 especial prize which attracted them on this occasion 
 was a battery of six new Brook guns which had been 
 brought out from Richmond at the evacuation of that 
 city, and which were drawn by very fine horses, iiTi- 
 
2/6 Sc':'Cfify--fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 pressed for that purpose, belonging to parties in Rich- 
 mond. It is unnecessary to say that the guns and 
 horses were carried off by the enemy. Besides, more 
 than one hundred wagons and ambulances were burned 
 and a number of mules and horses shot, so that it was 
 some hours before the march could be resumed. As 
 but few of our party were left, and we had nothing on 
 wheels to encumber us, we did not wait for the general 
 move, but resumed our way, light of baggage. 
 
 But few incidents worthy of record occurred under 
 my personal observation during the next day. One, 
 I remember, impressed me so strongly that it never has 
 been erased from my mind. During Thursday night, 
 — sometime during the small hours, — at a creek, or 
 double creek they called it, a panic occurred ; and with 
 wagons such as were left, stragglers, retainers, and not 
 a few soldiers, there was a blockade of the way, and 
 confusion worse confounded. It took us a little time 
 to get out of it ; but, unincumbered, we found our- 
 selves more fortunate than many others, and were just 
 coming out when I met General Lee riding slowly 
 toward the rear, possibly, I thought, with a purpose 
 of trying to straighten out the inextricable tangle into 
 which matters had gotten. I passed him near enough 
 to look into his face. He rode erect, as if incapable of 
 fatigue, and with the same dignity of carriage that I 
 had so often noted on the streets of Petersburg. From 
 his manner no man could have discerned that which he 
 knew so well, viz : that his army was fast melting away, 
 that his resources were exhausted, and that in a very 
 few days he would be compelled to deliver up to the 
 enemy, which he had defeated so often, the remnants 
 of those ragged jackets who had followed him for four 
 long years, and who had never failed except "in their 
 own annihilation." 
 
The Surrender and Events Following 277 
 
 Another incident entirely personal I record. Dur- 
 ing the night, which was quite cold, one of my surgeons 
 chanced to meet a quartermaster friend who had some 
 whiskey. He brought up this gentleman, and under 
 stress of our misfortunes we found excuse for indulg- 
 ing in a drink all around, "a swig from the same can- 
 teen." It was the first drink that I had taken in many 
 months, and though I suppose the whiskey was as good 
 as any, it had the most peculiar and unhappy effect 
 upon me. I had congratulated myself up to that night 
 that I was immune to hunger, to fatigue, to scare and 
 to sleep ; but after that drink I was so hungry, so tired, 
 and so scared that I was ashamed of myself, and withal 
 so sleepy that I had to get ofif of my horse and walk 
 for some distance to keep myself awake. 
 
 We reached Farmville early the next morning, and 
 here my untiring and irrepressible orderly, Buchhart, 
 discovered that Major Fred Scott, one of the assistant 
 commissary generals, was issuing rations. How he 
 discovered it I never knew; but the Major was hand- 
 ing out to such soldiers as passed him pieces of bacon, 
 and such portions of flour or meal as they could find 
 means to carry along with them. Buchhart got hold 
 of a middHng of Virginia meat and some quarts of 
 flour, but where he found the bag into which he re- 
 ceived the flour has never been accounted for to this 
 day. I have stated already that he was the best for- 
 ager I ever saw, but I am inclined to think that he 
 never signed a requisition for the supplies which he 
 was fortunate enough to get. He insisted after getting 
 these rations that we should halt, and that he would 
 go into somebody's kitchen and cook perhaps a three 
 days' supply. We consented, and I turned aside into 
 a narrow street, and lying down tied my horse's reins 
 around my body and was soon asleep. I used this pre- 
 caution because a brother officer had lost his horse 
 
278 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 two nights before, stolen from his side whilst asleep. 
 When my faithful orderly awakened me and we had 
 gotten our little party together again, nearly the whole 
 of Lee's army — the infantry and artillery, I am sure — 
 had passed through the streets of Farmville and cross- 
 ed the bridge over the Appomattox River, placing 
 themselves again on the north side of that stream. 
 Some of the cavalry was left and was having a lively 
 time holding the Yankee advance in check that was 
 coming inconveniently near the little town. 
 
 We had no time to eat then, of course, but hurried 
 down to the bridge, but with our rations cooked, and 
 went over the river with the rear guard. This was 
 nothing like as numerous as were the Yankee prison- 
 ers of whom they had charge, and who crossed over at 
 the same time. There seemed to be several thousand 
 of them. I noticed that many of them carried joints 
 or middlings of bacon, such as I saw issued to our sol- 
 diers, and I have no doubt that Major Scott very gen- 
 erously divided his last commissary stores with them. 
 A soldier could no more bear to see a fellow-soldier 
 hungry, whether friend or foe, than to be hungry him- 
 self. And did not our enemies, after we had surrend- 
 ered at Appomattox Court House, divide their rations 
 with us? These amenities soften the bitter passions 
 engendered by the cruelties of war, and prove after all 
 that human hearts are ever akin when trouble and sor- 
 row come. After the rear guard, with the prisoners, 
 had passed over the bridge, orders were given to burn 
 it, which was done at once by a member of General 
 Lee's stafif, Major Cook, who was sent back for the 
 purpose. The cavalry was left to take care of itself, 
 which it did by crossing the river at a ford a short way 
 above Farmville. 
 
 When we reached the hills above Farmville, on the 
 opposite side of the river, we found a great many guns, 
 
71ie Surrender and Events Pollowing , 279 
 
 not drawn up in a position for firing, but more like 
 going into park. This we did not understand at the 
 time, but which we remembered when we learned that 
 General Lee had sent a note to General Grant that 
 morning asking upon what terms he would accept the 
 surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia. Nothing 
 came of the note, which was probably intended as a 
 ruse by General Lee, in order to gain a little time 
 and to get his forces together, for a few hours after- 
 wards he sent another note to Grant saying that the 
 time had not arrived, in his opinion, when it was neces- 
 sary or proper to surrender his army. In the mean- 
 time the army had been hurried up on the roads on the 
 north side of the river, leading westward, and we fol- 
 lowed. In a few hotirs we came upon General Lee's 
 headquarters, wagon and ambulance, and his carriage. 
 This was the first time I ever saw his carriage, or ever 
 knew that he had one. He must have resorted to it 
 very rarely, though one of the headquarters men told 
 me that he had used it once or twice during the re- 
 treat. 
 
 They were tearing up and throwing out from his 
 wagon and box numbers of papers and letters, etc., evi- 
 dently a clearing up of the ship for action, and pre- 
 paring for the worst. Dr. Guild, General Lee's medi- 
 cal director, was also present, with his wife, in another 
 ambulance ; and knowing me very well, invited me to 
 remain with them to the last, which could not be far 
 off. I thanked him, and intended doing so, but there 
 was a hurried "forward," a daily and nightly reitera- 
 tion, and in the move we lost sight of him and his am- 
 bulance and never saw him again. 
 
 In the meantime, being unincumbered with baggage, 
 and independent of orders, we moved forward, keep- 
 ing with the advance of the army, and determined to 
 
28o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 get away and go to join General Johnson in North 
 Carohna, if possible. 
 
 We moved on, without especial incident to us, until 
 Saturday afternoon preceding the surrender. There 
 were signs of demoralization and disintegration of our 
 forces on every hand. Soldiers who had been men 
 and who had faced death in every form, upon a hun- 
 dred fields, without flinching or dismay; officers, even 
 of high grade, without command, and assuming no 
 authority; muskets thrown aside along the highway, 
 or sticking in the ground by the bayonet, evidenced 
 this fact. Not that there were no fighting men left. 
 The old veterans, like the old guard at Waterloo, knew 
 how to stand and how to die. When called to halt and 
 keep back "those people," as General Lee ever spoke 
 of the Federals, they rallied with the old joyful light of 
 battle in their faces, gaudamcn ccrtaminis, delivered 
 their withering fire, and sullenly moved on again; but 
 though always inflicting fearful loss, yet always leav- 
 ing some faithful comrade of their own "dead on the 
 field of honor," until their numbers grew so thin that 
 the end or annihilation was evident to all. 
 
 Up to that time the surrender of the Army of North- 
 ern Virginia had not entered into my conception. To 
 me, as to every Southerner, — as to every man, woman 
 and child in the Confederacy, — it had been the em- 
 bodiment of courage, and fortitude, and heroism. The 
 cause for which it had fought for long years was the 
 cause of liberty, and truth, and right. God could 
 never let those brave battalions go down before might, 
 whose standards had been held up for so many years 
 by the hands of our heroes ; those battle flags could 
 never trail in the dust, which, kissed and consecrated 
 by Southern women, had been baptized by the blood 
 of the truest and best of earth. Surely the prayers 
 of a million of Christian men and women, proving their 
 
The Surrender and Events Polloiving 281 
 
 faith by their works of self-abnegation and self-sur- 
 render, could not fail to have a hearing above, w^here 
 the destiny of nations was determined and ordained! 
 Ah, many a heavy-hearted old soldier, trudging his way 
 home after the surrender at Appomattox Court House, 
 believed, with Bonaparte, that Providence was always 
 on the side of the heaviest ordnance! 
 
 On the afternoon of the 8th, the day preceding the 
 surrender, our little party, keeping to the front with 
 some sections of artillery, which, mostly out of ammu- 
 nition, had been ordered to push ahead on the Lynch- 
 burg road, came upon Colonel Peyton, one of Gen- 
 eral Lee's inspector-generals, putting in position a 
 small body of infantry upon a knoll commanding a con- 
 siderable view of the surrounding country. There did 
 not seem to be more than two hundred in all. As he 
 was an especial friend, I rode up to him and asked him 
 what command it was. He replied slowly and sadly, 
 "That is what is left of the First Virginia Regiment, 
 and it is the sole guard of the left flank of the Army of 
 Northern Virginia." At a long distance beyond range 
 there could be seen a body of Federal horse, hovering 
 around as birds of prey, and awaiting opportunity. 
 Within range of my eye there were many muskets 
 stuck up in the ground by the bayonet, whose owners, 
 heart-sick and faint from hunger and fatigue, had 
 thrown them away and gone — none knew whither. 
 God help the poor fellows and forgive them ! Four 
 years of peril and fatigue and fighting had proved their 
 metal, but gaunt hunger had at last overcome them — 
 overcome their manhood — and they had scattered 
 through the country anywhere out of range of the 
 enemy, to any house or hut that promised a piece of 
 bread. I saw men whose rations for days had been 
 corn stolen from the horses' feed, and parched, and 
 munched as they marched and fought. 
 
2^2 Sei'eiity-fiz'c Years in Old Virgi)iia 
 
 I said to Colonel Peyton, "Does General Lee know 
 how few of his soldiers are left, or to what extremities 
 they are reduced?" He replied, "I do not think that he 
 does." "Then, whose business is it to tell him, if not his 
 first inspectors." "I cannot tell him," he replied, "1 
 cannot." For the first time my fortitude failed me, 
 and choking with tears I said to my little party, "Let 
 us push on, we can be of no further use here. May- 
 be we can get to Johnston's army in North Carolina, 
 or maybe some leader beyond the Mississippi will raise 
 the stars and bars, and liberty find there a rallying point 
 and refuge." To that time my faith in the final success 
 of the Confederate cause was strong ; but when the 
 sun went down behind the hills of the Appomattox 
 I looked upon life as a bauble, and the only blessed 
 ones those brave men who were sleeping in soldier's 
 graves without knowledge of defeat, without the taste 
 of the ignominy of walking under the victor's yoke. 
 
 As I rode along, some of the classic readings of a 
 happy past haunted my memory, and I thought of 
 Ulysses, after the siege of Troy, wandering the world 
 a wretched waif, and of Homer's lines: 
 
 "Happy, thrice happy, wlio in battle slain 
 Pressed in At rides' cause the Trojan plain. 
 Oh ! had I died before that well fought wall, 
 Had some distinguished day renowned my fall ; 
 Such as was that when showers of javelin sped 
 From conquering Troy around Achilles' head." 
 
 Odyssey, Lib. 5, verse 306. 
 
 And I thought of the grand Latin epic, and of the 
 laments of the unhappy ./^neas, and his song — 
 
 "Oh ! terque, quaterque beati, 
 Quis ante ora patrum Trogae 
 Sub moenibns altis 
 Contejfit oppcrtere." 
 
The Surrender and Events Following 283 
 
 " 'Thrice happy those whose fate it was to fall !' 
 Exclaims the chief before the Trojan wall; 
 Oh ! 'twas a glorious fate to die in fight, 
 To die so bravely in their parents' sight. 
 Oh ! had I then bejieath Tydides hand, 
 The bravest hero of the Grecian band, 
 Poured out the soul with martial glory fired, 
 And in the plain triumphantly expired, 
 When Hector fell by great Achilles' hand." 
 
 Virgil, ^neid. Book i, ver. 91. 
 
 But there was no time for sentiment. We hurried 
 on, and reached Appomattox Court House just before 
 sunset — passing the Httle village and going into camp 
 a mile, perhaps, beyond it, near some guns of the ar- 
 tillery, broken sections of which had been ordered on 
 to Lynchburg. I had taken the bridle off of my mare 
 that she might enjoy a little forage, and was lying down 
 with my head on my saddle, asleep, supposing that we 
 had gotten beyond the Yankee column, which we knew 
 was pursuing and plundering on a parallel road. I had 
 hardly gotten to sleep when my faithful Buchhart 
 awakened me, crying, "The Yankees be upon thee, 
 Doctor." I had just time to escape, with two of my 
 comrades. Doctors Smith and Field, into a thicket of 
 dwarfed oaks, — "black jack," as it is called in that 
 section, and which is impenetrable by cavalry, — when 
 the enemy came down, whooping and yelling, with 
 clanking of sabres, and made for the artillery, which 
 was a few hundred yards to our rear. Immediately 
 there was a sharp firing of carbines and of artillery, 
 a rebel yell, and a hurried retreat of the troopers ; then 
 another charge, and an irregular discharge of field 
 pieces, and a general scattering as far as we could see. 
 We put ourselves at once farther from the field of 
 action, by retreating through the woods, and coming 
 to a high fence climbed over that, placing it as well 
 as the "black jack" between us and the enemy's horse. 
 
jS4 Seveiity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Darkness coming on, and ignorant as we were of the 
 topography of the country and the relative position of 
 the opposing forces, we thought it best to remain quiet- 
 ly and to lie down until daylight. 
 
 The next day, after we had fallen into the hands of 
 the enemy, we got a good account from some of our 
 fellow-prisoners of the affair of the night before. It 
 seems that the Yankee cavalry, grown careless by con- 
 stant and unresisted raids upon our stragglers and 
 trains, had charged down the road where they passed 
 us, — charged in column, — and that some of our ar- 
 tillerists, getting wind of what was coming, shotted 
 their guns to the muzzle with what relics of ammuni- 
 tion, grape, and canister they had, had opened on the 
 column at short range. 
 
 Sergeant Dibrell, of the Richmond Howitzers, who 
 served one of the guns, told me that the havoc was 
 dreadful. The Yankees were repelled, but seeing the 
 insignificance of the force arrayed against them, they 
 came back as assiduously as before, led by a bronzed 
 old major on a gray horse, who with many others met 
 his death with a reckless courage worthy of a better 
 cause. The second charge was successful ; the cavalry 
 running down the gunners, capturing some, whilst 
 others dodged into the woods, following the tactics of 
 the three surgeons. The casualties of our side were 
 few. Dr. Nash, however, of Norfolk, the surgeon of 
 one of the companies, got a pistol bullet in his face. 
 
 But returning to the fortunes of the three surgeons. 
 Awakening by daylight in the morning, we started 
 through a field adjoining our resting place, and took 
 the direction in which we supposed we could find our 
 people. With no compass but our wits, which were 
 not at all sharpened by the night's experience, we took 
 the wrong course, and in a few minutes walked upon 
 a vidette sitting quietly upon his horse, and apparently 
 
The Surrender and Events Following 285 
 
 looking for news. Thinking that he was one of our 
 men, we approached him in a very friendly manner, 
 naively mentioned the fact that we were three lost 
 Confederate surgeons, and asked to be shown where 
 we would probably find Lee's lines. We started in 
 the direction indicated, when he snapped out a sud- 
 den "halt," and something equally persuasive — an ugly- 
 looking Colt's revolver of the regulation size, — and or- 
 dered us to come forward. We did so, and showing 
 his uniform under his cavalry overcoat, we perceived 
 that we were taken in. He gave at once a curt order, 
 "Right about, face; march quick!" We obeyed un- 
 hesitatingly, and strode forward in the opposite direc- 
 tion to "Lee's lines," our escort advising us to that 
 effect, and closely accompanying us, selecting me as 
 "next man" and keeping his pistol very unpleasantly 
 near my head. I ventured to remark that we were un- 
 armed, and that I doubted if it were necessary to keep 
 us so closely covered by his weapon, but he made no 
 reply. 
 
 We went hurriedly on over the rough ground, his 
 pistol bobbing up and down near the right side of my 
 head, and I really apprehended some danger of an ac- 
 cident, and said, "Sergeant, you will shoot me pres- 
 ently," to which he cheerfully replied, by way of al- 
 laying my fears, "I don't care a d n if I do!" 
 
 I said, "But, Sergeant, I do care very particularly; 
 it would be a very unpleasant death to be shot 
 here this cold morning, with so few witnesses of 
 my fortitude." But he did not change his conduct, 
 and I saw that any little irregularity of the ground caus- 
 ing his horse to stumble might send a bullet crashing 
 through my brain, and so I changed my tactics. I 
 reopened the conversation on a different scale, and 
 said, "Sergeant, those are poor spurs which you wear, 
 for so fine a trooper. I have in my overcoat pocket 
 a beautiful pair, made out of copper taken from the 
 
-'86 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 old Merriinac, which your people burned at the evacua- 
 tion of the navy yard at Norfolk. If you will permit 
 me to stop and get them out of my overcoat pocket, 
 I would like to make you a present of them." He 
 smiled, and said "All right." I took the spurs out of 
 my pocket, and handed them to him, and greatly to 
 my relief he put his pistol back in the holster. I valued 
 those spurs very highly, and if by chance my captor be 
 still alive and these few lines should fall under his eye, I 
 would take it as an especial favor if he would return 
 them to me; and I will forgive him for the scare which 
 he gave me that morning at Appomattox. 
 
 Well, our captor carried us to the picket lines, and 
 turned us over to General Devlin, who was afterwards 
 Attornev-Oeneral under Grant. He received us very 
 courteously, and on finding out who we were intro- 
 duced us to his surgeon, who was also very courteous ; 
 and knowing that we had not breakfasted, had coffee 
 served us, and regretted having "nothing more sub- 
 stantial to ofifer." Indeed, the whole staff was so kind 
 that we might have thought ourselves in no hostile 
 camp, but amongst friends, except for one little cir- 
 cumstance — one contretemps, which they no doubt re- 
 gretted as much as I did. 
 
 General Devlin was questioning me. asking, amongst 
 other things, "Why does not General Lee surrender? 
 How long is he going to keep up this foolishness? If 
 he falls back to Lynchburg, does he not know that he 
 cannot escape?" I replied to all of these by telling 
 him that I was not in General Lee's confidence ; that I 
 had not attended his council of war; and that I was 
 really unprepared to say what were his intentions. He 
 then asked me how many men, of all arms, General 
 Lee had left? How many prisoners he had with him? 
 What his position was, and what roads bore upon it? 
 and other questions of a similar character, which I 
 
Tlie Surrender and Events Following 287 
 
 could not answer, and which I would not have answer- 
 ed if I could. I did say, however, for mischief, that 
 when I left the main body of the army there were more 
 prisoners than we had troops. This was not really 
 much of an exaggeration, and was received in good 
 humor, except by a dapper little officer who stepped 
 up and said, ''General Devlin, that fellow is lying to 
 you; he does not want to tell you." Such language 
 was not tolerated in the class to which I belonged at 
 that day, and to be called a "fellow," and to be told 
 that I was "lying!" I felt myself burning down into 
 my boots, and in resenting the insult probably very 
 soon should have made a fool of myself, had not the 
 General and several of his staff turned upon him with 
 such a look as to cause him to shrink back from de- 
 cent company. Very soon after, the General called 
 up an orderly and directed him to take us to the rear. 
 In a few minutes we reached the advanced lines of the 
 enemy. There we met General Sheridan, splendidly 
 mounted, and a number of officers with him, — his staff, 
 1 supposed, — all well dressed and with caparisoned 
 steeds, presenting a very different appearance from our 
 
 poor broken-down cavalry. 
 
 There was a large body of horse in an adjoining piece 
 of wood, and as Sheridan rode up they wer^ advanced 
 in line. Some one said, "Now, boys, you are going 
 to see something grand." A man near me said it was 
 General Sheridan who spoke. The infantry, of which 
 there seemed any number near by, and who, coming 
 up, jeered the troopers, as our men used to jeer them 
 sometimes, and said, "Oh, you will be back on us pret^ 
 ty soon." And "pretty soon" they were back, many of 
 them, and we were hurried to the rear with the fugi- 
 tives, to prevent, as I was told afterwards, recapture 
 by Fitz Lee. 
 
288 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 I was also told that Sheridan was not only repelled, 
 but lost two of his guns in less than five minutes. 
 There is abundant and authoritative evidence for this 
 statement, but Sheridan does not mention it in his 
 "Last afifair at Appomattox," nor does he speak of 
 having met me ! Before we had gone back more than 
 a mile we met a corps of infantry advancing, and then 
 seemingly another, the soldiers appearing to come out 
 of the ground, such were their numbers ; and I can 
 well believe that which history records — there were 
 75,000 of them! We were soon in the rear, as indi- 
 cated by the number of prisoners under guard; by 
 the hospital arrangements, and by a curious-looking 
 cooking affair on wheels, which we were told belonged 
 to the Christian Commission. This is all of the Chris- 
 tian Commission we ever saw. No doubt it had its 
 presence and its functions, but they were never de- 
 veloped under our observation, 
 
 W^ were marched up, and merged into the body of 
 prisoners, perhaps a thousand of them, and soon recog- 
 nized several of our friends, whose misfortunes had 
 antedated our own. Amongst them were Captain 
 Lassiter, of the Norfolk and Western Road, who had 
 been taken from his train, and Mr. S. L. Simpson, to 
 whom we soon became indebted for courtesies. Dur- 
 ing the afternoon the "Rebel" prisoners were marched 
 in a body, which had grown in size during the day, to 
 a piece of woods a few hundred yards distant. The 
 limits of the prisoner's camp were designated, the dead 
 lines drawn, and details of prisoners ordered to bring 
 in fence rails for fires, or temporary shelter ; and with 
 the instincts and ingenuity of old soldiers, many had 
 soon fixed themselves in tolerably comfortable quar- 
 ters. There was also a barn of splendid tobacco near 
 by, of which we were invited — by our enemies — to help 
 ourselves. 
 
The Swrender and Hvents Following 289 
 
 The day passed (Sunday) and no rations of any sort 
 were served to the prisoners. My party, now reduced, 
 had dwindled down to three — Doctors Scott, Field, and 
 Claiborne. As we had had a cup of coffee at sunrise, 
 we were better ofif than most of the prisoners. 
 
 Monday forenoon; no rations were issued. Friend 
 Simpson, however, whose place in camp was very near 
 our own, came to us and divided with us some com- 
 pressed vegetable cake, and showed us how to make 
 a sort of a soup, and gave us a piece of cornbread, for 
 which we gave him grateful thanks, the only return in 
 our power. Late in the afternoon a beef, perhaps 
 more than one, was driven up and shot on the out- 
 skirts of the camp, and skinned and flayed on the 
 ground. Just so much of the hot and quivering flesh 
 was dispensed to each mess of the prisoners as our cap- 
 tors could spare, and found convenient, and one mem- 
 ber of each mess was sent under guard to get it. We 
 received ours with gladness, broiled a portion of it on 
 sticks before the fire, and having no closets or com- 
 missary chests into which to stow the balance, divided 
 it amongst ourselves, and each man placed his part 
 within his cap and slept with it. This was the only 
 safe place we had, and was not surely safe, at that, as 
 Capt. G., of Richmond, who bunked on the ground 
 near us, had both hat and rations stolen by some enter- 
 prising and hungry Rebel that night. 
 
 The next morning a Yankee soldier, who had been 
 in and out of our camp all day the day .before, asking 
 a thousand questions, and making himself a nuisance 
 generally, came to my mess, and singling me out, 
 brought me an invitation from a Dr. Richardson, of 
 New York, to breakfast with him, handing me at the 
 same time a permit to pass the lines and return on my 
 honor. How my Yankee friend discovered whom I 
 was, or to what I was indebted for this mark of distinc- 
 
 19 i 
 
290 Seiriity-frre Years in Old J^irginia 
 
 tion, I could never find out. I found Dr. Richardson 
 with some half dozen other officers, — surgeons, quar- 
 termasters, etc., — all about to sit down to a substantial 
 breakfast of broiled pig, bread, and coffee, at an ex- 
 temporized table under the trees. They all received 
 me courteously, though there was no introduction, and 
 as we sat down the Doctor remarked, "Help yourself. 
 Doctor ; vour people furnished the menu. We have 
 no rations ; your Fitz Lee burned our wagon trains on 
 Sunday, and I don't know when you will get any more." 
 It is unnecessary to add that 1 made a square meal, and 
 having talked very pleasantly for a few minutes, both 
 sides avoiding subjects which might lead to discussion, 
 I thanked my stranger friend and returned to camp. 
 
 This was my last invitation. A portion of beef, just 
 killed, was issued to us every day, without bread. 
 Until Wednesday we did not know that General Lee 
 had surrendered, and then we could learn nothing of 
 the terms. The guards with whom we could speak 
 either knew nothing or did not care to tell. Indeed 
 they were a listless, careless set, who seemed to be 
 attending to their business in a mechanical, perfunctory 
 way, without any especial interest in affairs generally. 
 The prisoners continually jeered and guyed them, and 
 broke the dead line recklessly, without challenge or re- 
 buke, and I think that almost any Confederate could 
 have walked away who wished. Possibly some did. 
 But without money, without friends, and without ra- 
 tions, and knowing nothing of the country or the con- 
 dition of affairs, it was safer, the most of us supposed, 
 "to bear the ills we had than to fiv to others we knew 
 not of." 
 
 But on Thursday afternoon a change came. An offi- 
 cer appeared in the camp, and ordered the officers to be 
 enrolled and mustered ready to march. I noticed that 
 the adjutant of the guard, who was making preparation 
 
The Surrender and Events FoUozving 291 
 
 to get us off, wore on the lapel of his coat a Masonic 
 emblem, so as soon as I could get an opportunity I gave 
 him the "sign of distress." He came to me and asked 
 "what he could do for me." I repHed by asking "what 
 he was going to do for us." He said that the "officers 
 would be sent to Fort Lafayette." Then I said, "I do 
 not wish to go. I have a family refugeeing somewhere 
 in North Carolina, — a wife and four children, — and I 
 would greatly prefer to go to them." He seemed to 
 think it not unreasonable, and said that "he would do 
 anything for me not inconsistent with his honor as a 
 soldier," and asked upon what plea I could hope to be 
 released. I said that I was a non-combatant, as- well 
 as my two friends who stood in line next to me. 
 "Were you the surgeons who were captured with some 
 artillery on last Saturday evening when your men 
 played such havoc with our cavalry?" I told him that 
 we were, but that we had not pulled a lanyard or fired 
 a gun. "Well, he replied, "you were taken with 
 fighting men. You were in bad company and will have 
 to take your chances with them." He came to me 
 again, however, after a little while and told me that all 
 of the men and officers who were captured within so 
 many miles of Appomattox Court House, and within 
 so many hours of the surrender, were entitled to their 
 parole. "If that be so," I said, "then not only are we 
 three surgeons, but there are here more than eighty 
 men of Grade's Alabama Brigade, with their colonel, 
 who are entitled to it." (These men, I think, had kept 
 up their fire some little time after the surrender, 
 ignorant, of course, of such ; but I saw no necessity to 
 add this information.) Calling up the Colonel, a gea- 
 tleman by the name of Saunders, I think, I put him in 
 communication with the officer of the guard. My 
 adjutant friend then produced pen, ink, and paper, and 
 directed me to make a statement of the case, which he 
 
292 Sci'cnty-fii'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 forwarded immediately to General Meade. In an hour 
 or two an order came that eighty-four of us, including 
 Gracie's Brigade, should be sent back to Appomattox 
 Court House and report to General Bartlett, to be 
 paroled. 
 
 Accordingly we were marched back to Appomattox 
 Court House, under guard, in the rain and in the dark, 
 and halted in front of the headquarters of General Bart- 
 lett. The General sent for Colonel Saunders and my- 
 self, and received us very kindly. After talking with 
 us a few minutes, he called an orderly, and directed him 
 to pass us through the pickets, and to direct us where 
 we would find General Field to receive our paroles. 
 The orderly did so, and after passing us through the 
 picket lines, told us to pursue the road before us until 
 we came to Confederate camps. As far as the "road 
 before us" was concerned, it had as well been the "road 
 behind us," for the darkness was Cimmerian, but we 
 trudged along, sometimes in the road and sometimes 
 out of it, as far as we could judge. We soon became 
 separated from our friends of the Alabama brigade, and 
 I never saw them again. I dare say that they spent the 
 night safely somewhere, and got back home safely some 
 time. 
 
 Dr. Field, and Smith, and I somehow drifted out of 
 the road, and seeing a light a short way ofT, went for it, 
 and found that it shone from the window of quite a 
 respectable-looking house. We advanced, and knock- 
 ing at the door, which was opened for a few inches 
 only, announced our rank, and asked permission to 
 enter and spend the night. A very curt reply informed 
 us that the house was already full of soldiers, wounded 
 and otherwise, and informed us, as one who spake with 
 authority, that we had better move on. We never 
 knew whether our ungracious speaker was friend or 
 foe, but a man who at that time spoke with the tone 
 
The Surrender and Events Follozving 293 
 
 which he assumed had doubtless some means of enforc- 
 ing his orders, and we left without discussing the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 A few minutes after leaving the house, and getting 
 well out into the darkness, we lay down to rest; but 
 such a baptism, by pouring, as the clouds gave us, was 
 not made the more saving by taking it on the ground, 
 and we arose and moved on again for several hundred 
 yards, in what direction we knew not, for we had lost 
 our bearings. We discovered also that we had lost our 
 third man, Dr. Smith ; but it was useless to attempt to 
 look for him then. Besides, wherever he was, he was 
 in no worse plight than we were, so Dr. Field and I 
 moved on again. We soon fell over one or two mounds 
 of fresh earth, which we instinctively felt to be graves, 
 and nearly stumbled upon the porch of a small house, 
 the door of which we took to be open, for the reason 
 that the darkness was darker in that direction than in 
 any other. I said to Dr. Field, "Let us go in; here at 
 least we can find shelter." It was a weird-looking 
 place, I confess, but I repeated, "Let us go in." My 
 comrade drew back, saying, "That is a dangerous look- 
 ing place," to which I replied, "That from you beats all. 
 The gamest boy and man [I had been his schoolmate 
 and seen him tried] I ever saw, and now for you to talk 
 about being afraid, borders on the ludicrous ; besides, 
 what have you got to lose except your life, and what 
 is that worth? Come on." As we entered the door 
 there came to my nostrils that inefifable smell of gore 
 which no man can fail to recognize who has passed 
 through the experiences of four years of a bloody war. 
 Striking a match from a box which I carried in my 
 pocket, sure enough we found ourselves in a field hos- 
 pital, which had been utilized doubtless only a few days 
 before during the last light at Appomattox. There 
 were the bloody clothes which had been cut off from the 
 
294 Src'ciity-fiir Years in Old Virgitiia 
 
 poor wounded fellows, the straw upon which they lay, 
 a table, and even an open Anatomy, from which some 
 surgeon had evidently been refreshing himself during 
 the work of mutilation. 
 
 Well, we were at home, and there was no one to dis- 
 pute our right. We utilized the straw and a broken 
 chair to kindle a fire in the large open fireplace, and 
 lay down to warm and to sleep, but were soon awakened 
 by a large wasp's nest falling upon us. The house, I 
 suppose, had not been inhabited for some time, and the 
 wasps had taken possession and built their nest in the 
 chimney. We were not long in getting up and getting 
 rid of our new^ enemies, fortunately without a sting, and 
 soon lay down again and slept until morning. We 
 made a breakfast, as soon as we were awakened by the 
 daylight, from some hard tack which Dr. Field had 
 bought from one of our guards the night before, in ex- 
 change for a ring. It had been softened somewhat by 
 the night's rain, and though wrapped in an old hand- 
 kerchief of the Doctor's which had been innocent of the 
 laundry for some days, was enjoyed with a zest real on 
 that occasion, but difficult to understand at this lapse of 
 time. 
 
 On coming out from our quarters we found Dr. Smith 
 not far ofif, who said he had passed the night sitting up 
 under a tree — not for the first time either, as he was an 
 old campaigner. He had discovered the route to our 
 destination. Taking up the trail then, we resumed 
 our tramp. We soon found out that we w^ould have to 
 cross the Appomattox River to reach the camp of 
 General Field, to whom we were ordered to report for 
 the purpose of being paroled. By the terms of the 
 "surrender" the Confederate generals were required to 
 parole the men under their respective commands on 
 paroles which were printed by the Federal authorities 
 on an extemporized press at Appomattox. We were 
 
The Surrender and Bz'eiils folloiciiig 295 
 
 ordered to report to General Field, not that we be- 
 longed to his command, but because he was the only- 
 officer left of that rank who had not been able to get 
 the printed parole up to that time, on account of some 
 accident to the press. 
 
 On reaching the Appomattox River, which was but 
 an insignificant creek when we crossed it the Saturday 
 before, we found it swollen by continuous rains into 
 quite a respectable stream. As there was neither bridge 
 nor ferry, however, we waded in without the formality 
 of undressing. The water did not reach . much above 
 the knees, and we felt no inconvenience from our morn- 
 ing bath. On following our route some half mile from 
 the river, we came upon a group of Confederates 
 breaking camp and about to take up the march home- 
 ward. Strangely enough, I knew every one of them, 
 and in company with all save one I had commenced my 
 military career four years before, lacking four days. 
 The group consisted of General Mahone and staff, 
 Major J. A. Johnston, Major O. H. P. Corprew, Capt. 
 Samuel Stevens, Capt. Hamilton J. Stone, Capt. John 
 R. Patterson, Quartermaster-Sergeant W. Edward 
 Spotswood, and two orderlies. I only knew one of the 
 latter, a young Kentuckian, by the name of Blakeman. 
 who had gotten himself the soubriquet of "The Bravest 
 of the Brave." As we reached the group, all of whom 
 were well mounted and ready to move off, General Ma- 
 hone accosted me, "Well, where in h — have you been?" 
 "A cooler place than that," I said ; "I am just out of a 
 mud hole." "You look like it," he replied, and I ex- 
 pect that I did. If any old soldier should read these 
 lines who was detained at Appomattox several days af- 
 ter the surrender, long enough to encounter the rain 
 that wept over our defeat, he will bear testimony to 
 the mud, and to the slipperiness of the roads. 
 
296 S event y-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 During- the night before, under the forced march 
 to freedom our Yankee escort had taken mischievous 
 pleasure in hurrying the prisoners, and how often I 
 had fallen, and how often I was ordered "to get up, 
 Johnnie," with a bayonet unpleasantly near my person, 
 I cannot recount. But there was no time to discuss 
 the present circumstances, and I said, "Boys, you are 
 not going to leave me?" Mahone then said, "Did I 
 not tell you not to leave Mahone's Division ? Now you 
 see what has come of it." "Yes; but. General, what be- 
 came of your surgeon. Wood?" "Oh, that fellow got 
 shot." I knew that myself, because I had seen him 
 grievously wounded ; and he had asked me to take care 
 of his watch and instruments. But the enemy had been 
 very good to him, had given him his ambulance, or an 
 ambulance and mules, and I told him that he was safer, 
 and would get out of trouble more surely than I, which 
 was true. I heard that he made his way to Fincastle, 
 Virginia, where he lived for many years afterwards. 
 
 Mahone then asked me if I was paroled, and that if I 
 were, said he would take me home with him. I told 
 him that I was not, but that with my two friends, and 
 some sixty or eighty of his old Alabama brigade, I had 
 been released, after we had been mustered for Fort 
 Lafayette, and ordered to report to General Field to be 
 paroled. He told me that I would find General Field 
 about a mile down the road, but that I would have to 
 show a blank parole. Captain Patterson produced one 
 from somewhere, and the General, dismounting, bade 
 me take his horse and ride down to General Field's 
 camp, and get him to sign it, promising by the time 
 that I returned he would have some means ready to 
 take me home with him. We tried to find two other 
 blanks for Dr. Field and Dr. Smith, but could not find 
 another. 
 
The Surrender and Events Folloiving 297 
 
 1 lost no time in getting to General Field's headquar- 
 ters, and as his was the only tent I saw, I had no 
 difficulty in finding him. At the door of the tent was 
 Captain P., of Richmond, an ordnance officer in his 
 command, whom I knew very well, having been a fel- 
 low-student of his at the University of Virginia. He 
 bade me get down, and giving my bridle to a soldier, 
 took me into the tent and introduced me to General 
 Field. My reception was anything else than cordial, 
 but I was not prepared for what followed. I told him in 
 as few words as possible that, with two other surgeons, 
 and some sixty or eighty men of an Alabama brigade, I 
 had been released from a prisoner's camp the night be- 
 fore and ordered to report to him to be paroled ; that I 
 had been fortunate enough to meet my friend General 
 Mahone, who, giving me a blank parole, and loaning me 
 his horse, had requested me to get his signature to it, as 
 he wished to take me home with him. He heard me 
 through, and then getting up (he was lying down), he 
 went to the door of the tent, and putting aside a blanket 
 that hung over the entrance to it, he said, "Do you see 
 those poor men shivering in the rain, and scattered 
 about in bivouac under those bushes? That is the re- 
 mains of Field's Division. The Yankee press at the 
 Court House is broken down, and I cannot tell when I 
 can get any paroles, but until those poor men are pa- 
 roled and sent away, you will remain here." "That is 
 hard upon me. General," I said. "I am sorry for those 
 poor men, but we have all suffered enough to give us 
 some fellow-feeling for each other, and should be glad 
 to have an opportunity of getting any one soldier out 
 of trouble. I have this parole, and only await your 
 signature to get me ofT, and to enable me to go home." 
 "I shall not do it," he said. "As you please, General," I 
 replied, and touching my cap, bowed myself out, de- 
 termined to go with Mahone any way, even had I to 
 
298 Scz'cnly-/l:'i' }'cars in Old Jlrgiiiia 
 
 sign the parole myself. He called me back from the 
 door and said, "Let me see that parole." He took it 
 from my hand, and after reading it, picked up a pen 
 from his table and wrote "C. F., Major-General." That 
 was enough Without awaiting further negotiations, or 
 giving him an opportunity of changing his mind, I was 
 off. But just as I mounted Mahone's horse to return. 
 Capt. P. said to me, "Claiborne, can you get me one 
 of those blank paroles?" I replied, "Captain, there 
 was not one that we could find at IMahone's camp when 
 I left ; but if there were any I left two comrades there 
 who would have first choice of them." "That is the 
 way of the world," he said ; "you are out of trouble now 
 and are willing to leave an old comrade and college- 
 mate, perishing of hunger and cold, the streams rising 
 behind us, and no means of rehef." This was spoken 
 with tears in his voice and with a sadness that I have 
 never been able to dismiss from my memory. Until I 
 looked down from my saddle into the face of that brave 
 man, I never realized what cold and hunger and hope- 
 lessness could bring one to. I said, "Do not talk so, P. 
 Get on your horse, and go with me to Mahone, and if 
 one parole can be produced for love or money, you shall 
 have it." He did so, and we rode rapidly back to Ma- 
 hone's camp; but after searching, no parole could be 
 found, and my friend turned ofT and rode slowly back 
 into what seemed literally the night of despair. 
 
 Drs. Field and Smith, after hearing of my interview 
 with General Field, declined to report to him, and went 
 back to the Court House, getting permission from 
 General Bartlett to go back to Petersburg; riding on 
 the railroad when the trains were running, and walking 
 when the road was obstructed or torn up. I cannot 
 think that the paroles amounted to anything. 
 
 General Mahone and his cavalcade, including myself, 
 immediately left, and though we passed many Federals 
 
The Surrender and Bz'ents FoUon'ing 299 
 
 before we got well under way to Charlotte Court 
 House, our destined stopping place for that night, no 
 one ever asked to see a parole. Riding all day, just be- 
 fore sunset — cold, hungry, and tired — we came when 
 within a few miles of Charlotte Court House upon a 
 fine old country mansion in a grove of oaks, surrounded 
 by every evidence of luxury and w^ealth. Turkeys, 
 chickens, and other fowls; sheep, lambs, pigs, etc., 
 roamed about the large lots, making a soldier's mouth 
 water, and a corn crib, almost bursting out with the 
 rich grain, stood in our way as we neared the mansion, 
 evincing the fact that ruthless war had not visited that 
 vicinity at least, and we thought, "What a haven for a 
 tired and hungry Confederate soldier. No doubt but 
 what we shall find comfort and welcome here." Gen- 
 eral Mahone directed his quartermaster, Major John- 
 ston, to ride forward and ask the owner to allow us to 
 remain all night, and say that we would need two 
 rooms, with fire, supper for our party of seven, with 
 corn and forage for our horses, and pay in gold (I sup- 
 pose jMahone had some) ; and besides that our presence 
 might insure safety and protection against stragglers. 
 The Major rode forward, but soon returned, meeting 
 us with evident disappointment, and reported, "Gen- 
 eral, Mrs. E. owns and lives at this place, and says 
 that we can not stop here ; that she does not want any 
 soldiers about her, and that we must move on." The 
 General replied in laconic style and with some impa- 
 tience, "The Devil ! Johnston, I have no doubt that you 
 have made a mess of it. Dr. Claiborne, will you go to 
 Mrs. E. and tell her who we are, and engage for us 
 what we wish." "All right, sir," I said, and started on 
 my mission, fully confident of a graceful and cordial re- 
 ception. 
 
 I rode up, dismounted at the yard gate, tied my horse 
 to the rack (which was at that time a feature of the 
 
300 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 landscape never omitted from the picture of a planter's 
 home), went into the yard, and was met by a dignified 
 and most respectable negro man, past middle age, and 
 whom I recognized at once as the dining-room servant, 
 gardener, butler, and factotum generally, that illustrat- 
 ed and adorned in those days every old Virginia man- 
 sion, and who invariably met the visitor and showed him 
 to the house. This colored gentleman, with the grace 
 and dignity of manner which such servants of a gentle- 
 man's house in old Virginia caught from constant con- 
 tact and association with gentlemen, a character which 
 is now almost extinct and which never can be repro- 
 duced, met me and said, "My mistress, Mrs. E., is a wid- 
 ow, sah ; receives no company, and asks that you will ex- 
 cuse her." I should have retired at those words, but I 
 had some pride in filling my mission, and I told him that 
 my business was urgent ; that times were troublous, and 
 that it would probably be better for his mistress to see 
 me. With an apology for not taking me to the front 
 door, he carried me around to the rear of the house, and 
 just as I was about to go up the steps of a long portico 
 leading into the house, Mrs. E. appeared at the top 
 of the steps, with an acrid voice, indicative of an acerb- 
 ity of manner which her appearance did not belie, and 
 said, "Do not come up those steps, we want no soldiers 
 here." I apologized in a most polite phrase for my 
 intrusion ; said that I had no idea of entering her house 
 without permission, but that General Mahone, with his 
 staff, on his way home from the surrender of Lee's 
 army, tired and cold, was approaching her premises, 
 and begged gracious permission to remain all night; 
 that he would like to have supper for the party, and 
 forage for the horses, and that he would pay cheerfully 
 in gold for everything he had, besides protecting her 
 ]M-emises. which were exposed to the depredations of 
 stragglers. "No, no," she said, "you cannot stop here." 
 
The Surrender and Events Follozving 301 
 
 I was as tired as a man could well be, and I did not feel 
 like going any farther, and thought I would try the pa- 
 triotic and sentimental, so I said, "Madam, do you se- 
 riously propose to deny the rights of hospitality in an 
 old Virginia home to one of the most famous generals 
 and his stafif ; men who for four long years have fought 
 your battles, and placed themselves as a living wall be- 
 tween yourself and the Northern vandals who have 
 come down to seize your property and slay your peo- 
 ple?" "I do," was her brief and unmistakable reply; "I 
 don't know you, or General Mahone, nor ever heard of 
 either of you before, and I want you to leave." "Never 
 heard of either of us before!" What is fame? I re- 
 turned to the General somewhat crestfallen, I confess, 
 but Johnston was the only man who enjoyed my dis- 
 comfiture.* 
 
 General Mahone remarked that it would be serving 
 her right to encamp on her lawn, take what we wanted, 
 and pay for nothing; but that it would be a bad ex- 
 ample for us to set, especially in such lawless times, 
 and that we must go on to Charlotte Court House, four 
 miles. It was the longest four miles that ever I rode, 
 and we were all pretty well fagged-out by the time we 
 reached there. We were too many in our party to 
 foist ourselves upon one house, and so we separated 
 into two sections. General Mahone, Major Johnston, 
 Capt. Patterson, and myself going to Mr. Selden's, 
 formerly of Westover, on the James River, but who 
 had taken his family to Charlotte Court House soon 
 after the war commenced, as it was not believed that 
 the Yankees would find that delectable village. The 
 faith of the public was proven wise. For the same rea- 
 son General Mahone had sent his family to refugee in 
 
 *I must do Virginia, and this Virginia woman, the justice to say 
 that I heard afterwards that she was eccentric, almost to the degree 
 of irresponsibility. 
 
302 Scvcnty-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Clarksville, Virginia. It was not believed that any 
 Yankee would reach that riparian city, and one never 
 did, during the war. On going to Mr. Selden's we 
 found him not at home, but Mrs. Selden was, and re- 
 ceived us as only a patriotic Virginia woman could re- 
 ceive a soldier; gave us a supper of hot rolls, broiled 
 chicken, and coffee — and such rolls, such chicken, and 
 such coffee ! The savor of that supper has never died 
 away from my senses. After supper Mrs. Selden's 
 daughters, and one or two other young ladies, received 
 us in the parlor ; and Captain Patterson introduced me 
 as Dr. Claiborne, of Petersburg, "the glass of fashion 
 and the mould of form." As I had not washed my face 
 and hands, or combed my head, or made my toilet for 
 ten days, and was muddy to my blinkers, I felt that I 
 was being trifled with, but I made my best obeisance, 
 took a proffered chair and distinguished myself by im- 
 mediately going to sleep in their presence. They were 
 considerate enough to ask us to our rooms at an early 
 hour. 
 
 And now a very serious question arose which I feared 
 might cause some unpleasantness. There were two 
 beds in the room for us four. Mahone and I were 
 bunked together. I had not had the opportunity of 
 taking off my long cavalry boots for thirteen days, and 
 during that time they had been so often wet and dried 
 that they were literally moulded to my feet, and it 
 seemed almost impossible to remove them without cut- 
 ting them off. And to have sacrificed a pair of boots 
 at that time without any earthly prospects of getting 
 another pair, was just a little less of folly than the sacri- 
 fice of the feet themselves. General Mahone, and then 
 my other comrades, refused to sleep with me with my 
 boots on, to say nothing of the scandalous impropriety 
 of occupying one of Mrs. Selden's beds in such foot 
 gear. A negro servant was summoned and the situa- 
 
The Sitrreitdcr and Events PoUoiving 303 
 
 tion explained to him, and he guaranteed relief. After 
 dragging me over the room several times, encouraged 
 by the cheers of my companions, who saw more fun in 
 the operation than I did, he finally succeeded in getting 
 them off, and I slept with Mahone, for the first time 
 and the last time in my life. The next morning Mrs. 
 Selden sent us in a box of paper collars, the first I had 
 ever seen ; and with our faces washed, hair combed, 
 clothes brushed, and collars on, we made quite a decent 
 appearance. After breakfast, taking leave of our kind 
 hostess, and gathering our little party together, we 
 made a start on another day's journey. 
 
 Mahone, Corprew, Blakeman and I directed our 
 course to Clarksville, Virginia, whilst others of the 
 party turned their steps toward Petersburg. We 
 reached Clarksville about dark, had a warm reception 
 from Mrs. Mahone, as may well be imagined, and after 
 a nice hot supper, went to bed — I, for one, more dead 
 than alive. 1 had not only endured all the fatigue, ex- 
 posure, and peril of the retreat, but my Rosinante, 
 which I had ridden rapidly for two long days, was the 
 roughest-riding animals which I had ever backed. It 
 was equal to riding on a wooden horse. This Avas Sat- 
 urday night, following the surrender, and it seemed to 
 me that the events of a life time had been crowded into 
 that short week. It was almost impossible to realize 
 the changes that I had witnessed in that time ; and the 
 greatest marvel was seeing General Mahone sitting 
 down in peace, playing with his children — the soldier 
 whom one week before I had left at the head of his 
 ragged veterans in fierce and hopeless fight. Sunday 
 morning I was too sick to get up, but with the kindly 
 ministrations of Mrs. Mahone, I was on my feet Mon- 
 day morning, and Blakeman and I, the last paladins of 
 our little group that left Appomattox together, about 
 jnidday parted, he taking to th? left to seek the home 
 
304 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 of an aunt in Mecklenburg County, Virginia, and I the 
 road to the right leading in the direction of Louisburg, 
 North Carolina, where my wife and children had been 
 refugeeing during the most of the war. About night I 
 reached Ridgeway, North Carolina, and found hospit- 
 able accommodations at the home of Dr. J., an old 
 friend and college-mate. 
 
 The next morning I took the road to Louisburg, 
 North CaroHna, about twenty-five miles distant. Dur- 
 ing the day I met many of Lee's old soldiers, trudging 
 their weary way homewards to different portions of 
 the State — also several very fine teams belonging to 
 the quartermaster's department, which had been out for 
 weeks foraging, but whose drivers seemed to be at sea 
 as to what they should do or where they should go. 
 One man, a quartermaster's sergeant, had a splendid 
 team of four mules, and said he had been for two weeks 
 foraging and was just ready to go back to the army 
 when the news of Lee's surrender came to him. He 
 begged me to take the wagon and team and give him 
 a receipt, and said he was going to leave them that day 
 or the next with anybody who would take them, and 
 make his way home afoot the best that he could. He 
 lived in one of the far Southern States. Of course I 
 had no more right to the team than he, and no more 
 use for it, and I declined. About midday I came to a 
 camp which had undoubtedly been left only a few hours, 
 maybe the night before, and amongst the odds and 
 ends which had been abandoned was a bolt of fine im- 
 ported jeans. This was left by accident, I presume, but 
 I picked it up and tied it behind my saddle. From this 
 was fabricated the only underclothing that I had for 
 weeks, all of my clothes having been burned or lost 
 during the retreat to Appomattox. About six o'clock 
 in the afternoon T reached Louisburg, and rode up to 
 the house where T had sent my wife and children two 
 
The Surrender and Events Following 305 
 
 years before, and soon had my loved ones in my arms. 
 Four years before, almost to a day, I had taken them 
 in my arms at Petersburg, my home, and giving them 
 a last kiss and "God bless you," had gone out with my 
 comrades and compatriots to the war, with brilliant 
 uniforms and flying banners; with heart full of hope, if 
 full of sorrow; with no fear of defeat, and no reckon- 
 ing but that we should save to them, if not to ourselves, 
 our fair Southern land — a heritage the best that Heaven 
 ever gave. And now alone, ragged, unaccompanied by 
 one single comrade ; unheralded, without country, with- 
 out home, without bread, without faith, I was before 
 them, even a stranger to my little children ! I leave 
 the picture. Let some other finish it. The war was 
 over — the war with men ; but not over with that skulk- 
 ing crew of cowards and carpet-baggers which followed 
 in its wake, nor with that foul flock of harpies who, 
 hovering over the little left for starving women and 
 children, polluted it with their noisome stench. 
 
 The hardships and exposure of the two weeks past 
 and the hopelessness of the future brought on an at- 
 tack of sickness, and I was detained for nearly a month 
 at the home of the gentleman with whom I had boarded 
 my family for two years. I had fortunately paid their 
 board in kind, as it was termed then — that is, in bacon 
 and flour — to about the middle of June ; but as soon as 
 1 was able I went to Raleigh, seeking some opportu- 
 nity of getting back to Petersburg and of further pro- 
 viding for my family. On reaching Raleigh I found 
 an old friend and fellow-townsman, Mr. Thomas 
 Branch, who had been refugeeing with his family in 
 that city for a year or more. He took me to his hos- 
 pitable house, where with him and his estimable wife I 
 found good cheer. His house was filled with strangers, 
 representatives of both armies — but there was no ripple 
 of trouble between us. One of my room-mates was 
 
3o6 Screnty-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 the Federal General Ames, of Massachusetts, who 
 had distinguished himself at the taking of the forts be- 
 low Wilmington. Like another Massachusetts General, 
 Bartlett, he was especially kind and generous. A large 
 body of Federal troops were quartered in Raleigh at 
 the same time, but they, too, seemed especially quiet, 
 and considerate of the feelings of the citizens. Having 
 no other clothes, I was compelled to wear my uniform, 
 and I never passed a Federal sentinel that he did not 
 face about and present arms — a considerate attention 
 which I entirely appreciated. 
 
 I told Mr. Branch that I was seeking some means of 
 getting home to Petersburg, and taking my family 
 there. He handed fifty dollars in o-old to one of his 
 younger sons, and bade him go to some place in the 
 city and exchange it for greenbacks. He turned the 
 proceeds over to me, which was the first dollar of 
 Federal currency I ever had. Before I could get away 
 from Louisburg, the place where my family had been 
 refugeeing, a corps of the Federal Army passed 
 through the town en route to Washington, to which 
 place the whole army had been ordered to rendezvous 
 for a grand review before they were disbanded or mus- 
 tered out. They made a halt, or a part of them, several 
 days in Louisburg, and a General Heth and his staff en- 
 camped in the yard of the gentleman's house at which 
 we were staying. They held themselves apart from 
 the inmates of the house, and placed a safeguard in 
 charge of it. He was a poor miserable young boy. in 
 feeble health, who, if he was armed, did not know where 
 his gun was for half the time, and took great pleasure 
 in playing with my children, insisting on dividing with 
 them whatever he could get of anything good which 
 would tempt them, and they were not very fastidious. 
 I do not think that they had seen a particle of confec- 
 
The Surrender and Events Follozuing 307 
 
 tionery for more than two years. The children of any 
 house were fortunate at that day to get enough of the 
 plainest food. 
 
 A disagreeable incident occurred, however, before 
 the Federal troops moved on ; and one which threat- 
 ened to get us into trouble. There were several ladies 
 staying in the house, and as was usual these took no 
 pains to appear before the soldiers or oflEicers, or to 
 conciliate them when compelled to be in their presence. 
 On the contrary, they did not hesitate to show by word 
 and manner more than a mild dislike. At the same time 
 there was staying in the house a clergyman, a man of 
 distinction in his calling, who had been quite noted, be- 
 fore the enemy came, for blatant abuse of the "Yankee," 
 even in a manner not becoming a preacher of peace and 
 righteousness. But when brought face to face with the 
 verities of the present situation his views most sud- 
 denly and radically changed. One morning after 
 breakfast, in the parlor with several ladies, he made 
 himself very offensive to them, telling them that by 
 such fools as they the whole trouble had been brought 
 on ; and that they would deserve no better than any 
 indignity which the soldiers chose to inflict upon them. 
 I happened to enter the room just as he was delivering 
 himself of his pastoral talk, and seeing my wife amongst 
 the ladies, requested her to withdraw, which she did, 
 followed by the rest of them. I then closed the door 
 and opened upon my clerical companion in language, I 
 fear, even less chaste, and more decidedly expressive, 
 than his reverence had indulged in ; ending with a 
 threat that if he opened his lips I would smash him 
 and pitch him out of the window down upon his Yankee 
 friends, who were just under it. Seeing that he was a 
 brawny Irishman of nearly twice my weight, this was 
 merely a briiHim fiilmen, and it was well for me perhaps 
 that he did not give me an occasion to attempt to put 
 
3o8 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia 
 
 my threat in execution. The proprietor of the house 
 coming in at the time, I apologized for "making a fuss 
 in his parlor" ; but I had only time to speak a few words 
 when General Heth, to whom his reverence had imme- 
 diately reported me, sent an orderly to invite me to call 
 at his tent. As it was my first invitation to headquar- 
 ters, and partook, moreover, somewhat of the character 
 of an order, I obeyed promptly. The General inquired 
 what the trouble was about, and I gave him, candidly, 
 the whole story. He only replied that he had no doubt 
 but that my provocation was great, but suggested not 
 very mildly himself, "that I have no further diflficulty." 
 The troops and my clerical friend both left the next 
 day, and "there was no further dif^culty." 
 
 In a few days I received a message from Mr. Branch 
 to join him at Franklinton, the station for Louisburg 
 at that time, and that we could get as far as Ridgeway 
 on the Raleigh and Gaston road, and then he would 
 have a carriage which would take us across the country 
 to Petersburg, or rather to Blacks and Whites, now 
 Blackstone, on the Norfolk and Western road, from 
 which point the road was open to Petersburg. On get- 
 ting to Ridgeway we found the carriage to be a wagon 
 and two horses, and a riding-horse awaiting us. With 
 Mr. Branch was one of his younger sons, I have forgot- 
 ten which one ; Mr. David Lyon, of this city, and the 
 colored driver. In this company I began my pilgrim- 
 age home, or to the place which I called home some 
 four years before, well knowing that there was no home 
 left me ; but with a brave heart to build me another one 
 there or somewhere, and to gather again under one 
 roof my loved ones driven away by the cruel fortunes of 
 war. 
 
 On the second night of our transit across the coun- 
 try we reached a Mr. Haskins's, in Lunenburg County, 
 and received a generous welcome. As this was only 
 
The Surrender and Events Pollozving 309 
 
 some twelve or fifteen miles distant from my father's, 
 in the County of Brunswick, Mr. Branch kindly loaned 
 me his riding-horse the following day, and I left my 
 fellow voyagers, they going on to Blackstone and I to 
 Roslin, the residence of my father. As my father had 
 not seen me in many months, and as he had not heard 
 from me since the close of the war and knew nothing 
 of my fate, the joyous surprise with which he received 
 me may be imagined, perhaps, but not described. Of 
 his other son, who was an assistant surgeon in the navy, 
 he had heard nothing, and knew nothing until he turned 
 up as suddenly and unexpectedly in the month of July 
 following. Only a few mails had been reestablished, and 
 communication between points out of the regular 
 routes was slow and uncertain. 
 
 After spending a few days with my father, and wit- 
 nessing the finale of the old regime, when he called his 
 slaves together and announced to them that they were 
 free — free to remain with him as hired servants or to 
 seek their fortunes elsewhere, I mounted Mr. Branch's 
 horse, and riding over to Blackstone left him with Mr. 
 Richard Irby, and took the first train for Petersburg. 
 On the train, which was many hours late, — a tardiness, 
 I may mention, which seems to have characterized the 
 train from the west on the N. & W. road even to this 
 day, — I found several hundred Yankee soldiers mak- 
 ing their way North. The coaches and open cars were 
 crowded, and many of the soldiers were noisy, and of- 
 fensive in manner to the few Confederates who hap- 
 pened to be passengers. Mr. Williams T. Davis, of this 
 city, and Major Boggs, of the Confederate artillery, 
 were amongst the Confederates near me. One Httle 
 Yankee lieutenant made himself conspicuously offen- 
 sive, especially to Major Boggs. The Major had been 
 a Methodist circuit rider before the war in the Virginia 
 Conference, and though not a Southern man had 
 
3 10 Sez'enty-five Years in Old Vi?'gitiia 
 
 doffed the black for the garb of gray, and as a major of 
 artillery had given four years of hard fighting for the 
 cause of the Confederacy. As he had not yet had op- 
 portunity of putting off the gray, he still retained the 
 spirit militant, and arose to administer to the youth a 
 punishment not prescribed by army regulations. But 
 several of us interfered, and with the help of some Fed- 
 eral ofBcers of high rank, declared peace. We were in 
 too decided a minority for any other mode of settle- 
 ment. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Events Foiaowing the War. 
 
 My Dog Again— I Am Warned to Leave Petersburg — Make a Pur- 
 chase and Start for Louisburg, N. C. — Back Again and to Work 
 — The Condition of the South Before the War An Anomaly of 
 Content and Happiness— The Military Government— The Carpet- 
 Bag Government and Its Curse — Opinions of Some Eminent 
 Northerners on the Reconstruction Period — Will History Re- 
 produce Itself in the Philippines — The Evidence of Robbery. 
 
 On reaching Petersburg the first person that met me 
 was Jack, my Scotch terrier, who had deserted during 
 the retreat from Petersburg, and whom I had given up 
 for lost. His expressions of joy in his mute language 
 were pitifully effusive, and for the few days during 
 which I remained in the city he could not be induced to 
 leave me for a minute. Whether repentance for for- 
 saking me, or fear of falling into other and less gracious 
 company again, actuated him, I cannot tell ; but he al- 
 ways had a wonderful amount of human nature mingled 
 with his canine character. I went to the home of my 
 brother-in-law, Colonel A. C. Butts, who was living on 
 Lawrence Street at that time in the house now occu- 
 pied by Mr. Alexander Wilson, and asked for quarters, 
 which were cheerfully granted me. I had only been 
 there a short time when I was waited on by one of my 
 old servants, the mother of Romulus, who was captured 
 during the retreat. She begged me to leave the city at 
 once, saying that several Federal soldiers had been to 
 her house repeatedly, and to the houses of other of my 
 servants, looking for me, and that they would murder 
 me if they could find me. I paid but little attention to 
 what she said, thinking that the Yankees were only 
 
312 Seventy-five IVor^ in Old Virginia 
 
 playing on her fears. But the next day a lady sent for 
 me who had been thrown in company with the Federal 
 troops a good deal, having had friends amongst them, 
 and she begged me to leave as soon as possible ; and 
 not only that, but begged me to go to General Cadmus 
 Wilcox, who she said was staying at Mrs. Robert Dun- 
 lop's, on FrankHn Street, and to get him away. She 
 vouchsafed the information, moreover, that we had been 
 selected by the soldiers of a certain Northern regiment 
 to be shot in revenge for the death of their colonel, 
 whom they avowed had been bushwhacked and killed 
 somewhere near Richmond since the surrender of Lee. 
 She stated this with a minuteness of detail and with an 
 array of evidence which led me to believe that there 
 was some truth in it. I went to Mrs. Dunlop's, but 
 General Wilcox had left the city ; whether on account 
 of anything he had heard of this matter, I know not. 1 
 told my lady friend that I would be glad to go if it were 
 at all practicable, but that I had nowhere to go and no 
 money to go with. It was my intention to go to North 
 Carolina and take my family to my father's in Bruns- 
 wick County, Virginia, until I could get to work again 
 at my profession. 
 
 Going out the next morning, I met on the street a 
 friend who had just bought a pair of horses and an am- 
 bulance, all in good condition, from a Federal sutler; 
 and, telling him my story, asked him to let me have 
 them. I told him very candidly that I had no money, 
 but that I should have some as soon as I could get to 
 work, and he generously turned the team over to me, 
 and took my note for the amount of the purchase. As 
 it was impossible for me to get out of the city that 
 day, I went to the Federal Provost Marshal, whose of- 
 fice was at the Petersburg Railroad depot, and Colonel 
 Potts, the ticket agent, who it seems had made a 
 friend of him, introduced me and vouchsafed for my 
 
Events Following the War 313 
 
 character I recounted the peculiar circumstances of 
 my case, and told the Provost Marshal that I was get- 
 ting ready to leave the city and go in search of my fam- 
 ily in North Carolina, ,and that in view of the general 
 condition of affairs I thought that I might be allowed 
 to arm myself. He readily consented, and gave me 
 written authority to procure arms and to use them in 
 defense of myself if necessary. I have that paper now 
 — the most remarkable paper, I imagine, ever given by 
 
 a provost marshal to a paroled prisoner signed '' , 
 
 Lieut. Colonel, Artillery," Of course, had I been 
 
 attacked it would have proven of but little avail, ex- 
 cept to enable me to sell my Hfe dearly, and to carry 
 an enemy or two with me on my last campaign. 
 
 During the day I found one of my old servants, 
 George Washington, and with him as driver, and Jack 
 as passenger, we made an early start the next morning 
 for Louisburg, North Carolina, where I had left my 
 family. On the evening of the first day of our travel we 
 reached my father's, who insisted on adding to my 
 retinue his carriage and driver, and my bringing my 
 family to his house and leaving them there until I could 
 get a foothold again in Petersburg. This generous of- 
 fer was gratefully accepted. As he had never been 
 plundered, or his house visited, except twice by Federal 
 raiders, who were hurriedly driven off by pursuit of our 
 cavalry, he had suffered but little, and not a slave had 
 left him. He had no money, as no one in the country 
 had any; but food for man and beast was abundant, 
 and the crops were luxuriant, as if sent by Providence 
 to supply our wants in such times of need. We made 
 the trip to Louisburg and back without incident, in less 
 than a week, bringing my wife and four children — the 
 oldest only nine years old. The children enjoyed the 
 travel through the country greatly, and I think were 
 disappointed when they reached their grandfather's and 
 
314 Screiity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 found that their wanderings were over, I left them 
 with their grandfather and his wife, my step-mother, 
 an excellent woman, who made for them a happy home 
 until I had accumulated enough to send for them to 
 come to me. 
 
 On reaching Petersburg my lady friend informed me 
 that the regiment to which the soldiers belonged who 
 had threatened my life, had left for the North and that 
 the coast was clear. I proceeded to resume "work at 
 the old stand," though not at the old house — that had 
 gone into other hands ; and opened an office in con- 
 junction with Dr. J. J. Thweatt, and old friend and kins- 
 man. Declining the many invitations to share the scant 
 rations of my friends, I rented a room near our office 
 for one dollar a week, paid a young lady in the house 
 a dollar a week to take care of it, and bought me some 
 tea, and crackers, and cheese. The same lady who took 
 care of my room, made my tea, and for two weeks set 
 out my humble menu. At the end of that time, gradu- 
 ally getting a little money from my practice, I took the 
 liberty of indulging myself in a little dinner at some one 
 of the many cheap restaurants with which the city was 
 crowded, to catch the hundreds of soldiers and strag- 
 glers and sight-seers that abounded on the streets. But 
 my breakfast and supper were of the same frugal pro- 
 vision. At the end of a month Dr, Thweatt and I 
 thought we would combine, and constituting the office 
 servant as cook, indulge ourselves in a more generous 
 fare. In less than a month, hov^^ever, we found that our 
 joint finances would not justify two liberal meals a day, 
 so we returned to our economies. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. James B. Jones, of Chesterfield, 
 an old friend of mine, and one of God's noblemen, see- 
 ing me practising medicine on foot, sent me his riding- 
 horse and forage enough with him to keep him a month. 
 With better opportunities of getting about, and with 
 
Hvents PoUoiving the War 315 
 
 the return of the refugees who had been scattered 
 through the country, and the free circulation of green- 
 backs by strangers, at the end of the month I bought 
 me a horse for seventy-five dollars and returned my 
 friend's. It was as late as October before I collected 
 greenbacks enough to justify my bringing my family 
 home. Then I rented two rooms for fifty dollars apiece 
 from Mrs. Freeman, who owned and occupied the 
 house now owned and occupied by Mr. Henry Roper, 
 and which before its mutilation by some modern re- 
 former was a beautiful and comfortable mansion. With 
 Mrs. Freeman and her daughter, now Mrs. Benjamin 
 Nash, of Richmond, we spent a happy winter, and 
 formed ties of friendship which have only loosened as 
 death has set his seal upon one or another of that little 
 group. Indeed, there were many, many happy families 
 that winter — the winter of i865-'66. It is true that the 
 most of us were poor, but who cared for the pinch of 
 poverty when loving ones, regathered to homes from 
 which they had been so long and so rudely driven, met 
 heart to heart, and recounted the perils and privations 
 which, now that they were over, had but drawn them 
 closer in love's embrace. And though the city was 
 filled with Federal soldiers, they were soldiers whom 
 we had met in battle ; men whom we had fought in 
 war, and with whornjve made up in peace ; men whose 
 respect we commanded, and who commanded our re- 
 spect. 
 
 The bummers and bounty jumpers, the politicians 
 and their measly crew of satellites, the little satraps 
 from the kitchens and chambers of Washington had not 
 been brought out and loosed upon us. And when the 
 last body of Federal troops was ordered away, a regi- 
 ment of regulars under a Colonel Randolph, who had 
 been garrisoned at the Fair Grounds, now West End 
 Park, I saw them go with unfeigned regret, and sur- 
 
3i6 Scvcniy-fii'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 prised some of my friends by saying to them that mili- 
 tary rule was infinitely better for us than the hybrid 
 combination of parasite and puppy which would surely 
 follow. In a very short time they had gathered human 
 testimony sufficient to convince them of this. 
 
 The real condition of the country which the Confed- 
 erate soldier left when he left his home for the war was 
 an anomaly of content and happiness, both for the in- 
 dividual and the masses. There were marked distinc- 
 tions in society founded upon the patriachal regime, 
 the result of slavery, where estates in land and negroes 
 were handed down from father to son, and the families 
 maintained for generations culture and command, 
 which the peculiar institution had not only engendered, 
 but made practicable and persistent. The gentlemen 
 of the higher classes with gracious dignity maintained 
 the noblesse oblige, and his humble neighbor accorded 
 him the respect and reverence that such generous con- 
 sideration awakened. The rich and the poor met to- 
 gether at the churches, on the Court-House green, at 
 the political speaking, at the general musters — citizens 
 all of one proud country, without arrogance on the one 
 part or envy on the other. The slave only was the serf 
 and the inferior, and he was proud of the shackles which 
 his rich master had fastened upon him. And when the 
 trumpet sounded the alarm of war all classes, every 
 citizen, put down his calling, his trade, his profession 
 without regard to rank, acknowledging a brotherhood 
 that was only known in our Southern land, and rushed 
 to the front, each as ready to give his life, as well for the 
 rich man's mansion as for the poor man's hut. And 
 even the poor slave begged to follow his master, and 
 did follow him, administering, without pay, to his com- 
 fort on the weary march or in the chilly bivouac, caring 
 for him when cut down in the blaze of battle ; or left at 
 home guarding the mistress and children with sleepless 
 
Events Pollowing the War 3 1 7 
 
 watch, and providing by daily labor for their daily sus- 
 tenance. 
 
 Can any other country or nation show such an Ar- 
 cadian life amongst its people ? We of the South knew 
 none of the fanatical teachings of our bigoted brethren 
 of the North. Capital did not seek to throttle labor, 
 labor did not strike for protection. There was no so> 
 cialist stirring up strife with his vain and morbid dis- 
 senters ; the anarchist did not stand with pistol and 
 stiletto to stab any representative of honest govern- 
 ment in his way. We did not have a church or a school- 
 house on every hill, but when we planted a church it 
 did not preach heresy ; when we built a school-house it 
 did not teach a law higher than the "Constitution." Of 
 a population of five million of whites, six hundred and 
 twenty-five thousand had entered the Confederate 
 Army, and these were the flower of Southern manhood ; 
 and of these, two hundred thousand had lost their lives, 
 leaving in many instances helpless and dependent fami- 
 lies. Many thousands had been maimed and were in- 
 capable of labor. Desolation was left in the wake of the 
 Federal Army. One general, Sherman, had boasted 
 that he left a swath miles wide in the course of his army, 
 where nothing was left but the chimneys of the homes 
 he had burned ; and another general, Sheridan, declared 
 that a crow flying over the Valley of Virginia would 
 have to carry his rations with him. Everywhere in the 
 South that a Federal soldier had put his foot, — and few 
 places were so sacred or so distant from the highway 
 that they were not polluted with his presence, — every- 
 where agricultural implements were broken up, mills 
 burned, stock killed or driven ofl:, fences and provisions 
 destroyed. Indeed, nothing was left but the land, debts, 
 and taxes, and not a dollar of currency to pay debts or 
 taxes. Banks, banking institutions, notes, bonds had 
 all been based upon the credit of the Confederacy — ■ 
 
31 «S Scrciily-iiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 and were all utterly worthless and insolvent. Worse 
 than all that, the people of the late Confederacy were 
 required to assume their full share of the debt of three 
 billion of dollars expended in their subjugation, and to 
 pay proportionately their portion of the millions of dol- 
 lars of pensions to the soldiers who had plundered them 
 for years. No conditions amongst civilized nations so 
 pitiable and so damnable had ever arisen — not even in 
 Prussia, at the end of her seven years' war, nor France 
 at the end of any of her revolutions ; only Poland, per- 
 haps, when her nationality was absorbed by her cor- 
 morant tyrants, and when it was written, "Peace reigns 
 in Warsaw." Peace also reigned in the Southern Con- 
 federacy, but it was a peace which will forever pass all 
 understanding except by those w'ho participated in its 
 immediate blessings. When the remnants of the scat- 
 tered and defeated army, disbanded and paroled, 
 reached their respective homes, — those who were fortu- 
 nate enough to find their homes left to them, — there 
 was great joy, of course, and there was also merry- 
 making, and even marrying and giving in marriage, 
 under circumstances seemingly very inauspicious to 
 parties assuming such responsibilities. But privations 
 and hardships of four long years of war had taught the 
 sturdy survivors lessons of courage, and patience, and 
 self-denial ; and men who had faced so many dangers 
 in the field, and women who had encountered so much 
 trouble at home, did not stop to count the cost of the 
 minor evils which a coming family might entail. In- 
 deed, it has been said that "Cupid always follows in the 
 receding steps of Mars." 
 
 As for the military go\ernment which was set up 
 immediately after the war in the subdued States, it gave 
 us peace and protection, as far as we had anything to 
 
Events PoUoiving the War 319 
 
 protect ; and as a rule dispensed equal justice to all.* 
 It was infinitely preferable to the civic-military despot- 
 ism created by congressional action according to the 
 recommendation of the infamous "Committee of Fif- 
 teen" appointed with the specific and dastardly object 
 of further humiliation of the Southern people, of dis- 
 franchising the white man, and of elevating the late 
 slave over the head of his master. This committee of 
 twelve Republicans and three Democrats Mr, Blair said 
 "would have in its keeping in an especial degree the 
 fortunes of the Republican Party." The northern Dem- 
 ocrats, and some conservative Republicans, as Mr. Ray- 
 mond, of New York, and even Mr. Seward, who said 
 that "It is a plan not for reconstruction but for indefi- 
 nite delay," opposed the report of this committee. But 
 the majority of the Republican Party in Congress, ever 
 bitter, relentless, and filled with malice toward an en- 
 emy which they had not met personally, and whose 
 prowess had only fired their resentment instead of 
 evoking their admiration, adopted its plans, and the 
 reign of terror, the reign of the carpet-bagger, the 
 scalawag, and the negro — the latter the best of the 
 three — was inaugurated. 
 
 The military government which in this city had pre- 
 ceded the installation of the carpet bag and scalawag — 
 civic-military, that is, civil by pretense, with the mili- 
 tary behind it — was especially clean and just. The 
 regiment, which remained for about two years, was en- 
 camped at the Fair Grounds, now West End Park, and 
 was commanded by a Colonel Randolph, before spoken 
 of, a gentleman and a soldier, who maintained order and 
 dispensed justice "without fear, favor, or affection." 
 The Federal troops, the returned soldiers of the Union, 
 
 *See an article by Hon. Hillary Herbert in Atlanta Monthly^ Feb- 
 ruary, 1867. 
 
320 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 and the returned soldiers of the Confederacy met and 
 hobnobbed in the most fraternal way, as men who had 
 tried each other's steel. Indeed, some of our young 
 men, returned soldiers, without means, without work, 
 and without education, which the exigencies of war 
 had prevented them from acquiring, having spent their 
 young manhood in the field, joined the ranks of the 
 Federal army when it left, and recommenced life as pro- 
 fessional soldiers, drawing their sword only for pay and 
 for hope of promotion. 
 
 I saw the last file of these Federal troops leave the 
 city with regret, and when I expressed my regret to a 
 friend, he seemed surprised, and said that he could not 
 understand my position. I asked him to await events 
 and watch the way from Washington. In a few days a 
 new king carpet-bagger, to represent the civil law, and 
 Adjutant Buttons, to represent the military, appeared. 
 He lived to see and feel this change of dynasty, and 
 there came down not one king, but a king for nearly 
 every county and city of the commonwealth — and with 
 every king an adjutant. The former, light of baggage, 
 had one carpet bag, hence his name; but that was filled 
 with provisos, and writs, an 1 orders. Lieutenant But- 
 tons was his executive officer ; and a scalawag, a low fel- 
 low to the manor born, and bought with promise of 
 spoil, was his suborned witness.- These men were called 
 sometimes and in some places "The Bureau," sometimes 
 the "Freedman's Bureau." Even amongst these the 
 military did occasionally contain a gentleman who, in 
 the fear of God and without the fear of men, did defend 
 the right and establish justice ; but he was few, and 
 not being appointed for the purpose aforesaid, was usu- 
 ally recalled at an early day. But no such saving ex- 
 ample of truth, of honor, or of manhood ever appeared 
 to my knowledge to break the monotony of the villainy, 
 which characterized carpet-baggers. The military ap- 
 
Events Following the War 321 
 
 pointee was generally a little lieutenant satrap, with 
 shoulder straps, whose fine clothes proclaimed him in- 
 nocent of the smoke of battle, and who, "dressed in a 
 little brief authority, showed such fantastic tricks before 
 high heaven as made the angels weep." These un- 
 fledged younglings, worthy of the cesspools from which 
 they were taken, were usually the sons of sires holding 
 high places in political office, and were sent down to set 
 aside our honorable courts, to supplant the able and 
 peerless judiciary which had construed our laws, and 
 constituted themselves as judges, counsel, and jury to 
 administer so-called justice in the land. As might have 
 been expected, as was expected, and as was intended, 
 trouble soon arose of a gravity commensurate with such 
 untoward and intolerable conditions. 
 
 The first blow fell upon labor. The ex-slave early 
 commenced to recover from the daze of freedom sud- 
 denly thrust upon him, and knowing and trusting the 
 old master, had accepted service under him for stipu- 
 lated wages and was helping to turn over the soil for 
 the needed crops and to renovate the estates, broken 
 and wasted by four years of war. He was at once in- 
 formed that the "Nunion Burer" was sent for his pro- 
 tection, admonition, and instruction, and to that he 
 should report for orders. He promptly and piously 
 reported. There he was informed that it was not com- 
 patible with the character of a freeman to work for an- 
 other man, especially if that other man was a white 
 man. He was also told that the lands of his former 
 master would soon be taken by the "Nunion" men and 
 divided amongst his slaves, and that each negro would 
 receive a mule and forty acres of land, and that he 
 would have opportunity of working for himself alone. 
 He believed and accepted this statement and promise in 
 all of its fulness. And thus, not only was the ex-master 
 Stripped of his needed help in th? time of his greatest 
 SI 
 
322 S event y-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 necessity, but the old trusting and kindly relations be- 
 tween the races were broken and the way opened for 
 future trouble and disturbance. No program for the 
 production of trouble could have been better adapted to 
 that purpose. The negro understood that he was the 
 "Ward of the Nation" — the "Boss of the Burer" had 
 told him so. As ward he had to be taken care of until 
 he could come to his estate of forty acres of land and a 
 mule. In the meantime, nothing was left to do in the 
 daytime but to loaf, especially if the headquarters of the 
 "Burer" happened to be at some little village or court- 
 house. And nothing could have so well suited him ex- 
 cept the nightly office left him — to roam. This covered 
 all the ground of his capabilities and desires ; and in 
 roaming of course he frequently over-reached upon his 
 neighbor's property and invaded his neighbor's pre- 
 serves, his pig-pen, his corn-house, or his chicken- 
 house, and his neighbor would catch him in flagrant de- 
 tection and would inflict upon him punishment both just 
 and appropriate. And it was always a white neighbor, 
 and for this his white neighbor was always reported at 
 headquarters — headquarters being, in scalawag and car- 
 pet-bag lingo, the place where the "Nunion Bosses" 
 held court. And then followed a travesty of justice 
 which no pen or pencil could describe or portray. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Nelson Page has published a book called 
 ''Red Rock," purporting to be a novel, but an over- 
 true story, in which he has essayed to give some ac- 
 count of the assizes in one of these civic-military dis- 
 tricts. He has failed to exaggerate, if it were his pur- 
 pose to do so, the pollution, the corruption, the crime, 
 the darkness of the deviltry which characterized the 
 proceedings of these judicial sessions. At the mouths 
 of their witnesses, suborned or otherwise, strife and 
 contention were continuously stirred and promoted. 
 And the more quiet, conservative, and respectable the 
 
Events Following the War 323 
 
 citizen, the more it was their pleasure to persecute and 
 humble him ; and if he had any means, to pluck him, 
 and to prosecute and fine and imprison him, under false 
 charges of this pestiferous crew of cormorants, until 
 many a man sorrowed that he had not laid down his 
 life, instead of his musket, at Appomattox. 
 
 These were the days of Reconstruction, so called, in 
 comparison with which the bloody days of battle were 
 as pastime ; and I know of no man now, whatever his 
 party affiliation, who does not look back upon them with 
 combined horror and indignation. And I hold now that 
 the greatest achievement of the Southern soldier was 
 not that, for four years, he faced death at such odds in 
 an hundred fights, and ever held his own with foemen 
 worthy of his steel, but that as a citizen, and unarmed, 
 he had the fortitude to endure and to live down the 
 humiliation of those bitter days, and that now he only 
 holds them in his memory as a horrid hell-dream of the 
 unreal. 
 
 The Hon. S. S. Cox, of New York, says "that no 
 people ever suffered such humiliation and degradation 
 as was suffered by the South from the rule of the carpet- 
 bagger. * * * The thesaurus of our English tongue 
 may do justice to the plagues of Egypt, but here were 
 plagues tenfold more numerous and worse." His lan- 
 guage is vigorous and opulent, especially in invectives, 
 but he confesses his utter inability to do justice to the 
 subject, and he calls upon the Hon. Judge Jeremiah 
 Black, one of the most eminent jurists of this country, 
 "to eke out or wreak out his own feebleness of expres- 
 sion in describing the horde that flew down upon the 
 South at the close of the war." Judge Black says : 
 
 These were called carpet-baggers, not because the word was de- 
 scriptive or euphonious, but because they have no other name by 
 which they are known amongst the children of men. They were 
 unprincipled adventurers who sought their fortunes in the South by 
 
324 Scvcuty-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia 
 
 plundering the disarmed and defenseless people; some of them were 
 the dregs of the Federal army, the meanest of the camp followers ; 
 many were fugitives from northern justice; the hest of them were 
 men who went down after peace, ready for any deed of shame that 
 was safe or profitable. These, combining with a few treacherous 
 scalawags and some leading negroes to serve as decoys for the rest, 
 and backed by the power of the Federal Government, became the 
 strongest body of thieves that ever pillaged a people. They swarmed 
 all over the Southern States, from the Potomac to the Gulf, and 
 settled in hordes, not with any intent to remain there, but merely 
 to feed on the substance of a prostrate and defenceless people. They 
 took whatever came within their reach. * * * 
 
 By force or fraud they controlled or prevented elections. They 
 returned sixty of themselves to our Congress, and ten or twelve of 
 the most ignorant and venal amongst them were at the same time 
 thrust into the Senate. The pretended representative was always to 
 vote for any measure that would oppress or enslave his so-called 
 constituents; his hostility was unconcealed and he lost no oppor- 
 tunity to do them injury. 
 
 And quoting from Judge Black again in his essay on 
 the Electoral Commission, the "Great Fraud of 1876," 
 he said : 
 
 The greediest Roman Proconsuls left something to the Provinces 
 which they had wasted, the Norman did not strip the Saxon quite to 
 the skin, the Puritans under Cromwell did not utterly desolate Ire- 
 land ; their rapacity was confined to visible things which they could 
 handle and use; they could not take what did not exist. But the 
 carpet-bagger had an invention unknown to these old-fashioned rob- 
 bers, which increased his stealing power as much as the steam en- 
 gine adds to the mechanical force of mere natural muscles. He 
 made negotiable bonds of the State, signed and sealed them ac- 
 cording to forms of law, sold them and converted the proceeds to 
 his own use, and then "defied justice to go beyond the returns." 
 By this device his felonious fingers were made long enough to reach 
 the products of posterity. He laid his lien on property not yet 
 created ; he anticipated the labor of coming ages, and appropriated 
 the fruits of it in advance; he coined the industry of future gen- 
 erations into cash, and snatched the inheritance from children whose 
 fathers were unborn. Projecting his cheat forward by this con- 
 trivance, and operating laterally at the same time, he gathered an 
 amount of plunder which no country in the world would have yielded 
 to Goth or vandal. 
 
 This arraignment of the representatives of the Fed- 
 eral Government sent down upon the South after the 
 
Events Follozving the War 325 
 
 close of the war, and the disarming of the gallant men 
 whose heroism for four long years had commanded the 
 wonder of the world, was not written by one of them 
 nor prompted by partisan feehng, begot of the bitter- 
 ness of oppression which they had been robbed of the 
 power to resist; but it was the outpouring of a pa- 
 triotic spirit in some noblemen of the North who dared 
 to speak, and who defied the despots that, under the 
 guise of the "powers that be ordained of God," hid the 
 cloven foot of another party, and administered, in ad- 
 vance, the laws of another "kingdom, not of this world," 
 but "where Satan sat enthroned," 
 
 But it may be asked. Why reproduce these bitter rec- 
 ords ? Why dig up from the dirt and expose to the light 
 of day deeds of deviltry which the sun blushed to wit- 
 ness when they were born, and which Time, all-healing 
 Time, with mantle of charity seeks to cover over with 
 hopeful promise of a halcyon day when "might shall no 
 more make right?" Ah! why write history at all? Is 
 there nothing in the lives of th® vicious and corrupt 
 which the children of the generations following should 
 be taught to shun ? Is there nothing in the career and 
 conduct of the brave and the virtuous which posterity 
 should be taught to honor and emulate? Shall Nero 
 and Caligula, shall Cato and Aristides, live alike in his- 
 tory, models for the young to imitate, examples for the 
 young to follow? Does history never reproduce itself? 
 Does the light which illumines the wake of the past 
 project no shadows that teach the lesson of a sleepless 
 lookout? Some wise men, even of to-day, think they 
 see signals of danger in the political sky, warning of 
 breakers ahead. From our new possessions of a people 
 bought against their will and governed without refer- 
 ence to their wishes, and \'fithout regard to the teach- 
 ings of the founders of this Republic that the genius of 
 the Constitution demanded and guaranteed the consent 
 
326 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 of the governed, a wail of oppression and of cruelties 
 has reached us even over seven thousand miles of sea, 
 drowning the lesson of human liberty which for more 
 than a century we have taught to every man who 
 sought the aegis of our flag ! 
 
 Let us refer to the Congressional Record. In the 
 Senate of the United States, April 26, 1902, Mr. Car- 
 mack, resuming his speeech on the 'ThiHppine Govern- 
 ment Bill," said: 
 
 By the terms of the pending bill, the islands were for the Filipinos 
 as the pasture is for the sheep — they live and browse there in order 
 to raise wool for others to wear, and mutton for others to eat. 
 
 If the carpet-bag government you propose to establish in the 
 Philippines is not a thousand times better than that which j'ou es- 
 tablished in your own country after the Civil War, the Lord God 
 hate mercy upon the people of those islands." 
 
 He then referred to the cabled reports from Manila 
 that General Smith had acknowledged that he had 
 given orders to make Samar a howling wilderness, and 
 to kill all over ten years of age, as horrible beyond de- 
 scription. The program was to practise unheard of bar- 
 barities in the slaughter of the inhabitants, and to have 
 the torch complete the work of slaughter. When the 
 land is without a home and the country without a peo- 
 ple, then the word pacified will be written upon the 
 tombstone of the province of Samar. 
 
 It is now known that one hundred thousand people 
 have perished in a single province in which there were 
 only three hundred thousand, and yet the people of the 
 United States knew nothing of this until recently. And 
 what was that for ? That a few rapscallions and carpet- 
 baggers might have unlimited license to thieve and 
 plunder! No wonder that the people are crying for 
 their old masters from Spain ! Senator Hoar, of Mas- 
 sachusetts, and General Miles, the ex-Commander-in- 
 Chief of the Armies of the United States, neither one 
 
Brents PoUoii'uw the IT or 
 
 i> 
 
 of whom can be accused of the love of the South or of 
 the taint of the "sleeping treason of the Southron," 
 have spoken in plainer words, if words can be made 
 plainer, of the cruelties and barbarities perpetrated 
 upon that simple and comparatively defenseless people 
 whom the Government went seven thousand miles out 
 of its way to persecute, and toward whom it violated 
 every written and unwritten law under pretense of 
 carrying to them the light of the Gospel and the bless- 
 ing of citizens' freedom. 
 
 Is not history reproducing itself, and is it treason, is 
 it a breaking of faith with the parole pledges of the 
 past, for an ex-Confederate to note and to give warn- 
 ing of a danger which, under a mailed hand seven thou- 
 sand miles away, has before this time been felt at 
 home, and which is not restrained by principle nor 
 palsied by age? 
 
 In going so far, I have gone beyond the intent of 
 these Reminiscences when I commenced to record them. 
 It is difBcult for one who has witnessed the desolation 
 of a country, his own by right of heritage from his 
 fathers, whose blood had bought it, whose valor had de- 
 fended it, and whose wisdom had crowned it with the 
 best government which the world ever saw; who has 
 seen the highest order of civilization, the structure of 
 the bravest men and of the fairest women of all time, 
 go down in a darkness upon which day can never again 
 break ; who has felt the steel in his own body and the 
 iron in his own soul, to sul)mit with meekness to it all. 
 and to suffer in silence. 
 
 Mr. John Marshall, the author of the book referred 
 to before, quoted from Giusti. "writes bitter things be- 
 cause his soul is bitter, for thy sake. O Freedom" ("The 
 American Bastile"), and his motto is Tevea-Oo <t*&)? 
 "Let there be light" ; yes. light upon the past, light to il- 
 lumine with the brightness of heaven characters whom 
 

 
 28 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 envy and malice had sought to smirch or stain ; Hght to 
 illustrate, for the encouragement of the future, ex- 
 amples of truth, and virtue, and fortitude, and courage 
 unsurpassed in history, in song, or in story. 
 
 The actors in the tragic drama of the Civil War, — 
 and heroes there were, both Greek and Trojan, — are 
 fast passing off the stage. There is no Homer to per- 
 petuate in song the prowess of the mad courage of 
 Hector or Achilles, but monuments are being erected 
 of stone and of brass. North and South, to commemo- 
 rate the valor and patriotism of the men who gave their 
 lives in the battle for the right as they saw the right. 
 For these men and for their memories we have nothing 
 but praise and honor, but for the dastardly players in 
 the miserable travesty of reconstruction which followed 
 the war, the sooner their names and memories perish, 
 the better for the world which their presence befouled 
 for so many unhappy years ! 
 
 The speech of Hon. Daniel W. Voorhees, in the 
 House of Representatives, March 23, 1872 — six years 
 after the ostensible close of the war — depicts in terms 
 of denunciation as severe as words can convey, but that 
 words utterly fail to convey, the story of wrong, of con- 
 tempt, and of oppression fastened upon the eleven 
 States lately in rebellion against the Federal Govern- 
 ment by the harpies sent down to fatten upon their 
 vitals. 
 
 In evidence of the robberies perpetrated upon the 
 impoverished citizens of these States by the carpet-bag 
 and scalawag rulers placed over them, he tabulated the 
 following figures and defies their contradiction : 
 
 States. Debts and Liabilities. 
 
 At close of War. January, 1872. 
 
 Alabama $5,939,68487 $38,381,96737 
 
 Arkansas, 4,036,952 87 19,761,265 62 
 
 Florida 221,000 00 15,763,447 54 
 
 Georgia, debts normal. 50,137,500 00 
 
Events FoJlozving the J Tar 3^9 
 
 Louisiana, 10,099,074 00 50,540,206 91 
 
 North Carolina, 9,699,500 00 34,887,467 85 
 
 South Carolina, 5,000,000 00 39,158,914 47 
 
 Mississippi, debts normal. 2,000,000 00 
 
 Tennessee, 20,105,606 66 45,688,263 46 
 
 Texas, debts normal. 20,361,000 00 
 
 Virginia 31,938,14459 45,480,54221 
 
 Grand total, $87,039,962.99 $362,160,575.43 
 
 And to what purpose was this immense outlay rav- 
 ished from a people broken by war; homes desolated; 
 mills destroyed ; farming utensils burned ; old men and 
 young men slain in battle, or helpless from wounds ; 
 labor taken from them, and currency worthless? 
 
 Mr. Voorhees says : 
 
 There was no monument erected to the public good; no colleges, 
 no schools, no seminaries built with the stolen treasures; no lofty 
 edifices or durable roads constructed ; no massive bridges built ; no 
 rice swamp ditched; no harbors improved; no works of utility or 
 patriotism erected. One monotonous desolation, which unholy 
 avarice and unconstrained oppression had stamped upon the people; 
 nothing to mitigate their degradation ; stripped and robbed and left 
 by the wayside. 
 
 The frogs, the darkness, the lice, and locusts left more blessings 
 behind them in Egypt than these States received from their imported 
 rulers, carpet-baggers, and detestable and more venal scalawags of 
 home birth. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 The Last Fight at Five Forks— Mr. Granier— What Manner of Man 
 Was He — In the Interest of Justice to Mahone — Old Blandford 
 Church — Personal Ancestry — American Bastiles — Dahlgren's 
 Raid — "Who Fired the First Gun?" 
 
 THE LAST FIGHT AT FIVE FORKS 
 
 The following note, taken from "Reminiscences of 
 Crenshaw's Battery," by Private J. C. Goolsby, of Rich- 
 mond, who entered the Confederate service at 14 years 
 of age and served until the last day at Appomattox 
 Court House, giving an account of the last fight at Five 
 Forks, will confirm the story of the tragic loss of life 
 there, both of soldiers and animals. He says: 
 
 The battery took a position behind a fence, or rather we pulled 
 the fence down, the grounds being separated by a space of about 
 one hundred yards or more. In our front was an open field. * * * 
 Standing in line the eye was first attracted by a neat frame house, 
 situated in the right corner of the field, whose inmates were seen 
 hastily leaving, making for the woods on the right ; the field itself 
 covering an area of some 500 feet or more in length by about the 
 same in breadth, skirted on either side by a dense growth of trees. 
 In our front for 500 yards the surface was even, after which it 
 partook of a slight inclination, until it receded in a valley below, the 
 ground upon which the enemy were massing for the desperate work 
 of the evening. * * * We heard the sound of a bugle and pres- 
 ently our skirmishers were seen coming into our lines, followed by 
 a charging column of Federal horsemen. What a sight ! On they 
 came, firing, shouting, the earth almost trembling with the heavy 
 weight, the field being filled, as they aproached our lines, with the 
 dead and wounded, the horses running in all directions, some with 
 nders and some without. Our men could be restrained no longer, 
 and the word "Fire" ran along our lines. Almost instantly the in- 
 fantry poured in upon the horsemen a terrible volley; the guns of 
 the artillery, double .shotted, firing at the same time. But on they 
 came, such was the power behind them; not being able to turn 
 aromid, and running through the guns, only to be made prisoners. 
 The destruction of life here was great, long lines being opened in 
 
Appendix 331 
 
 their ranks as they attempted to break through. I had witnessed a 
 good many exciting scenes in the army, but this surpassed them 
 all. I really thought that we should never stop them. But whilst 
 this assault was made in our front, Sheridan massed his infantry in 
 three or four lines on our left, and swept up the works, capturing 
 our left guns, stationed just at the spot from which this battle takes 
 its name; but not without desperate resistance on the part of the 
 cannonaders, one of whom knocked down a Federal soldier with the 
 sponge staff. It was at this gun that Col. Willie Pegram was 
 killed, the Christian warrior, the modest young soldier who had 
 lived long enough to win the plaudits of the whole army. 
 
 The men behind these guns belonged to Pegram's 
 BattaHon, and their support was Corse's Veteran Brig- 
 ade. It is unnecessary to add that the battle which 
 they fought was hot and heavy. 
 
 MR. GRANIER 
 
 Mr. Granier (I cannot recall his initials) was a 
 French nobleman who, with hundreds of others, 
 escapes the massacre of the whites at the negro 
 insurrection of San Domingo some fifty years be- 
 fore and sought refuge in this country. He had 
 a beautiful daughter, a brunette, a little above the 
 usual stature, of perfect figure, and with all the grace 
 and vivacity of her race. She was of course greatly ad- 
 mired and sought after. She gave her heart and hand 
 to Mr. James L. Dowell, a practical electrician and su- 
 perintendent of the telegraph system in Virginia, and 
 perhaps as far South as New Orleans. They lived in 
 Petersburg, happily, until the breaking out of the 
 Civil War, when Dowell's business calling him to 
 Richmond, they removed to that city. Mrs. Dowell was 
 a nervous, highly-strung woman, neurotic, subject to at- 
 tacks of hysteria of an exaggerated degree, and withal 
 very eccentric. I was not fully aware of her eccentric- 
 ity, although I was her physician, until on one Sunday, 
 sitting by her in church, I saw the butt of a revolver 
 
'^T)2 Sevciiiy-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia 
 
 showing' ilsclf outside of her pocket. I remonstrated 
 with her for going armed, but she laughed and said that 
 her husband was away from home so much that she car- 
 ried a pistol to protect herself. After removal to Rich- 
 mond she was divorced from her husband and married 
 Mr. E. A. Pollard, a giften but erratic man, and as ec- 
 centric as herself. He was at one time editor of the 
 Richmond Examiner, and co-editor with his brother, 
 Mr. Rives Pollard, of the "Southern Opinion," and au- 
 thor of the "Southern History of the War,'' "The Lost 
 Cause," "Lee and His Lieutenants," "Life of Jefferson 
 Davis," and several other books. Mr. Rives Pollard, 
 whose pen w'as as caustic as that of his brother, was 
 killed from ambush on account of some severe stric- 
 tures published in his paper in reference to a noted 
 young lady of Richmond. • He was shot from a window 
 as he passed along the street. The young lady's 
 brother was arrested and tried for murder, but was 
 acquitted. Mr. Pollard's relations with his wife seemed 
 strained, and could not have been very cordial, as a few 
 years afterwards, in an apothecary store in Baltimore/ 
 she shot him, wounding him slightly. After the death 
 of her second husband, Mrs. Pollard, whose eccentrici- 
 ties seemed to have increased rather than otherwise, 
 went to New York to live, but returned to Petersburg 
 on two occasions — once as an elocutionist, and once as 
 a temperance lecturer. On one Sunday afternoon, in 
 the course of a lecture at the Academy of Music in this 
 city, she invited any one in the audience who had 
 spoken at any time disparagingly of her to come upon 
 the platform and that she would treat him to a cowhid- 
 ing. It is needless to add that no one accepted the 
 invitation. That she meant what she said was possibly 
 in the memory of some persons, who knew that she 
 had on one occasion assaulted Senator Vest with a cow- 
 hide in the Capitol of the Confederacy in Richmond. 
 
Appendix 333 
 
 These reminiscences are recalled by the publication of a 
 telegram by the Associated Press in the Index-Appeal 
 of last December: 'Taris, Dec. 5. — The United States 
 Consulate here is seeking the two sons of an American 
 woman, Mrs, Marie Antoinette Nathalie, who was run 
 over by a carriage November 30 and later died in the 
 Beaujoir Hospital. It is said that she lived at one time 
 in Richmond, Virginia, and in New York." She had 
 disappeared from this country for many years, and 
 seems to have dropped the name of Dowell and Pollard 
 and Granier (her maiden name) and retained only the 
 name of her girlhood, by which she was known to her 
 friends in this city, Marie Antoinette Nathalie. Peace 
 to her ashes! I knew her as a girl, piquant and pretty; 
 as a bride, beautiful and happy; as a young mother, 
 loving and devoted. What nervous strain broke the 
 figment of her faith in truth and constancy of man, and 
 turned her young life to that law of the neurotics bor- 
 dering upon the irresponsible, God only knows, no 
 other. Let that one who is without sin cast the first 
 'stone upon her grave. Her children died before her, 
 and at her death she could probably have said with 
 Loza, the Indian chief, in the bitterness of her soul, 
 "Not one drop of my blood flows in human veins." 
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS HE? 
 
 In reference to Lee and his men I have been asked, 
 "What manner of man was he? — what manner of men 
 were they? Let a Northern soldier answer. Briga- 
 dier-General Chas. A. Whittier, of the United States 
 Volunteers, in a paper read before the Military Histor- 
 ical Society of Massachusetts, says : 
 
 The army of Northern Virginia will deservedly rank as the best 
 army which has existed on this continent; suffering privations un- 
 known to its opponents, it fought well from the early Peninsular 
 days to the surrender of that small remnant at Appomattox. It was 
 
334 ScTcnfy-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 always ready, active, mobile; without doubt it was composed of 
 the best men of the South, rushing to what they considered the de- 
 fense of their country against a bitter invader; and they took the 
 places assigned to them, ofiicer or private, and fought until beaten 
 by superiority of numbers. The North sent no such army to the 
 field, and its patriotism was of an easier kind. There was no rally- 
 ing cry which drove all the best, the rich, and the educated to join 
 the fighting armies. We had Loyal Leagues and Christian com- 
 missions, and great war Governors (Andrew Curtin, and Morton), 
 organizers of victory ; a people full of loyalty and of hatred for the 
 neighbors who differed from them as to the way in which the war 
 should be conducted, never realizing the fact that the best way was 
 by going or sending their brightest and best. As a matter of com- 
 parison we have lately read that from William and Mary College, 
 Virginia, thirty-two out of thirty-five professors and instructors 
 abandoned college work and joined the army in the field; Harvard 
 College, with its large corps of professors and instructors, sent one 
 professor. We thought our own Massachusetts a pattern of loyalty 
 and patriotism during the war. Read the record of Massachusetts 
 Volunteers as published by the State. The bounty paid (thirteen 
 million of dollars by the State and more millions by the cities and 
 towns, was a worthless expenditure to give Massachusetts a nom- 
 inal credit; was paid to the deserters; to the host of men who never 
 joined their regiments; to the enlisting officers who put out on 
 their posters at one time something like this : "Enlist in heavy ar- 
 tillery regiments ; no marching; no fighting; comfortable quarters," 
 etc., etc. 
 
 General Whittier then furnishes a hst of Massachu- 
 setts artillery and infantry, counting 20,959 men, ''of 
 zvhich only 95 were killed in battle. This does not indi- 
 cate a brilliant or a nsefid service." Had General Whit- 
 tier chosen to compare Harvard with the University of 
 Virginia, he might have noted that whilst the number of 
 students at Harvard was 833, against 630 at the Univer- 
 sity of Virginia, there are only 138 names graven on the 
 roll of honor of those men of Harvard alumni who gave 
 their lives for the Union ; whilst the roll of the Univer- 
 sity men, when it shall be graven in brass, will furnish a 
 list twice as long as that of the New England Univer- 
 sity. Three out of every foirr of the alumni of the Uni- 
 versity of Virginia sprang to arms at the call of Virginia 
 in 1861, and of the fifteen hundred who served under 
 the banner of the Southern corps, three hundred and 
 
Appendix 335 
 
 fifty died for the. Lost Cause; and to show of what fight- 
 ing material these were, out of the fifteen hundred, thir- 
 teen hundred bore commission from the Secretary of 
 War, from generals to second lieutenants, and these 
 commissions were w'on by deeds of valor in the field. 
 And a similar record may be written of every college 
 and university in the South, 
 
 IN THE INTEREST OF JUSTICE TO MAHONE. 
 
 I have stated that after the bloody repulse of the 
 Federal Army on the i8th of June, 1864, rio other as- 
 sault of any importance upon our lines was made dur- 
 ing the Siege of Petersburg except on the 30th of July 
 at the Crater. 
 
 Mahone's part in that affair has already been re- 
 corded. Subsequently, from the 18th of June, the fight- 
 ing near Petersburg was always to the left of the enemy 
 in the persistent attempt of Grant to turn our right and 
 to envelope our forces in his anaconda fold. We met 
 him always outside of our works, and in the fierce fight- 
 ing which followed. Mahone was conspicuous above 
 any other leader. We say that in no spirit of disparage- 
 ment and with no intent to do injustice to any of the 
 gallant men who so well played their part in the heroic 
 but hopeless struggle in the last scenes of that memora- 
 ble drama. 
 
 But to do justice to an officer who ever had tardy 
 justice done him, to establish the truth of my statement, 
 I have had recourse to the official records of the Union 
 and Confederate armies. 
 
 June 22, 1864, General Lee to the Secretary of War 
 (Serial 80, page 750) : 
 
 The enemy's infantry was attacked this P. AI. on the west side of 
 the Jerusalem Plank Road and driven from his first line of works 
 
33^3 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 to his second, on that road, by General Mahone, with a portion of 
 his division. About i,6oo prisoners, 4 pieces of artillery, 8 stands of 
 colors, and a large number of small arms were captured. 
 
 Of this brilliant action General Grant says (page 14, 
 same volume) : 
 
 The affair of the 22nd was much worse than I had heretofore 
 learned. Our loss was nearly 2,000 men and four pieces of artil- 
 lery. 
 
 The next engagement was on June 23. Of this Gen- 
 eral Lee says (page 750, same volume) : 
 
 Yesterday the enemy made a demonstration with infantry upon 
 the Weldon Railroad, but before he had done much damage was 
 driven back by General Mahone with a portion of his command. 
 About 600 prisoners — 28 commissioned officers — were taken. 
 
 Again, June 29, General Lee says (page 752, same 
 volume) : 
 
 General Hampton reports that he attacked the enemy's cavalry 
 this side of Sapony Church, and drove them beyond that point. 
 The fight continued all night, and at daylight he routed them. When 
 they reached Reams Station they were confronted by a portion of 
 Mahone's division, who attacked them in the front, whilst their left 
 flank was turned by General Fitz Lee's cavalry. The enemy was 
 completely routed and several pieces of artillery and a number of 
 prisoners were captured. 
 
 No further affair of importance occurred until July 
 30, — Battle of the Crater, — in which the part taken by 
 Mahone has already been referred to. 
 
 The next engagement which we note from the same 
 record was August 19 (page 851, et seq., Serial 872): 
 
 Gen. A. P. Hill attacked the enemy at the Davis House on the 
 Weldon Road. Heth's division in front, Mahone on the rear and 
 flank, capturing 2,700 prisoners, flags, arms, etc. 
 
 And then on August 28th : 
 
 Hagood's Brigade drove the enemy into their intrcnchments, taking 
 prisoners — Mahone not participating. 
 
Appendix 2)37 
 
 And then, August 26, Ave note "the Battle of Reams 
 Station" was fought. Troops engaged : Heth's and 
 Wilcox's Division, aided by Hampton's splendid cav- 
 alry. Hancock's Corps was badly defeated — seven 
 flags, 2,000 prisoners, nine pieces of artillery captured. 
 Mahone not engaged. 
 
 Next, September 16, "Hampton's famous cattle raid" 
 in the rear of the enemy ; no infantry participating. 
 
 On October i Generals Heth and Hampton drove 
 the enemy on the Squirrel Level Road, capturing 1,000 
 prisoners. 
 
 Then, October 28 (page 853, Serial 87), General Lee 
 telegraphs of the battle of Burgess Mill, fought the day 
 before : 
 
 General Hill reports that the attack of General Heth made on the 
 enemy the evening before, on the Boydton Plank Road, mentioned 
 in my dispatch, was made by three brigades under General Mahone 
 in front and General Hampton in the rear. Mahone captured 400 
 prisoners, three stands of colors and six pieces of artillery. The 
 latter could not be brought oflf, as the enemy held the bridge. In 
 the attack subsequently made by the enemy, Mahone broke three lines 
 of battle, and during the night the enemy retired, leaving his 
 wounded and more than 250 dead upon the field. 
 
 Again, October 31st, General Lee says (page 854, 
 same volume) : 
 
 General Mahone penetrated the enemy's picket line last night, 
 near Petersburg, and swept it for half a mile, capturing 230 men and 
 officers, without losing a man. 
 
 Subsequent to this there was no collision of any im- 
 portance with the enemy until February 6, 1865, when 
 the battle of Hatcher's Run was fought. Of this Gen- 
 eral Lee reports to the Secretary of War (page 381, 
 Serial 95) : 
 
 This morning Pegram's Division marched down the right bank of 
 the creek to reconnoiter, when it was attacked vigorously. The bat- 
 tle was obstinately contested for some hours, but General Pegram 
 bring killed, confusion occurred and the division was driven back. 
 
2^S Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Evans's Division, ordered by General Gordon to support Pegrani, 
 charged the enemy, pressed him back, but was in its turn compelled 
 to retire. Mahone's Division arriving, the enemy was rapidly driven 
 back to his defenses on Hatcher's Run. 
 
 Soon after this Mahone was withdrawn from the 
 flanking position on the Petersburg Hne that he had 
 held so long, and was sent to the trenches on Bermuda 
 front, relieving Pickett, who took his place on the right. 
 
 Thereafter: Gordon's splendid attack on Hare's Hill, 
 February 26, which he carried, but could not hold for 
 lack of supports, and the disastrous defeat of Anderson 
 and Pickett a few days later at Five Forks completed 
 the fighting around Petersburg. 
 
 This is not intended to ignore the attack made by the 
 corps of Smith, Hancock, and Burnside on the i6th 
 of June, before General Lee had established his per- 
 manent position at Petersburg, and before he had 
 brought more than half of his army from Richmond. 
 In this engagement the enemy lost 10,288 men, but the 
 envelopment of the city followed. The regular siege 
 of the city may be said to have begun on the 19th of 
 June. On the 21st, Generals Wright and Birney in- 
 augurated the famous left movement, losing three thou- 
 sand men and being compelled to retire. 
 
 THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CAVALIER 
 
 Mr. W, H. Whitmore, in the "Cavalier Dismounted," 
 says that the "people of the South were descended in 
 great measure (through Virginia, of course) from in- 
 dentured white servants sent from the jails and slums 
 of England." And even Mr. Hugh Blair Grigsby, 
 the "Bluelight Chronicler of Virginia History," says 
 that the "cavalier was essentially a slave to the King 
 and a slave to the church" ; that he (Grigsby) "looked 
 with contempt upon the miserable figment which 
 
Appendix 339 
 
 sought to trace the distinguishing points of the Vir- 
 ginia character to the influence of those butterflies of 
 the EngHsh aristocracy." 
 
 To this, Mr. John Fiske, with better opportunities 
 for investigation and with larger scope of vision, says 
 that "Mr. Grigsby's remarks are an expression of 
 American feehng in what may be called its Elijah Pog- 
 ram period, when the knowledge of history was too 
 slender and the historic sense too dull to be shocked 
 at the incongruity of classing such men as Strafford and 
 Falkland with butterflies." 
 
 Undoubtedly at the early colonization of Virginia 
 many characterless adventurers sought Virginia for the 
 betterment of their future — many, in other words, "for 
 their good" ; and many left Old England for their coun- 
 try's good; and some as indentured servants. But no 
 student of the history of the State can fail to see that 
 there was a great emigration of cavaliers from Eng- 
 land to Tidewater Virginia. 
 
 The great exodus of cavaliers to Virginia began in 
 1649, after the execution of Charles I. On the news of 
 the death of the king. Governor Berkeley sent a mes- 
 sage to England inviting the Royalists to the colony; 
 and in less than a twelve-month more than a thousand 
 had come. And from this date, 1649, to 1670 the 
 population of Virginia had increased from 15,000 to 
 38,000, chiefly, no doubt, from this emigration, and in 
 spite of the fact that there was an exodus of the Puri- 
 tans to New England — as many as one thousand in 
 1649 — oil account of the treatment of Gov. Berkeley. 
 This fact of the migration of Royalist cavaliers is fur- 
 ther confirmed by the names conferred on the counties 
 and settlements populated by them, which could only 
 have been done by a people as loyal to royalty as the 
 cavaliers were. The counties of Elizabeth City, James 
 City, Charles City, Warwick, York, Gloucester, King 
 
340 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 William, King George, Surry, Sussex, Prince George, 
 Dimviddie, Chesterfield, Brunswick, Mecklenburg, 
 Lunenburg, and dozens of others, all derived their 
 names from noble or royal personages. 
 
 And the population of these first-settled counties de- 
 veloped all the cavaHer character and instinct, — in their 
 love of horses, dogs and sporting, — and maintained 
 these habits until the day of the sad depletion of gentle 
 blood by the invasion of the mongrel soldiery of the 
 North in the war between the States. Besides, by "no 
 possible ingenuity of Constitution making or of legis- 
 lation could a society made up of boors and ruf^ans" 
 create and bring forward, as leaders in war, in law, in 
 statecraft the men who made Virginia the Mother of 
 States and the home of the highest civilization of the 
 1 8th century. 
 
 OLD BLANDFORD CHURCH. 
 
 "Thou art crumbling to the dust, old pile ! 
 
 Thou art hastening to thy fall ; 
 And 'round thee in thy loneliness 
 
 Clings the ivy to the wall ; 
 The worshippers are scattered now 
 
 Who knelt before thy shrine. 
 And silence reigns where anthems rose 
 
 In the days of 'Auld Lang Syne.' 
 
 II 
 
 "And sadly sighs the wandering wind 
 
 Where oft in years gone by 
 Prayer rose from many hearts to Him, 
 
 The Highest of the High. 
 The tramp of many a noiseless foot 
 
 That sought thy aisles is o'er, 
 And many a weary heart around 
 
 Is still forever more. 
 
Appendix 341 
 
 III. 
 
 "How doth ambitious hope take wing! 
 
 How droops the spirit now ! 
 We hear the distant city's din; 
 
 The dead are mute below. 
 The sun that shone upon their paths 
 
 Now gilds their lowly graves, 
 The zephyrs which once fanned their brows 
 
 The grass above them waves. 
 
 IV 
 
 "Oh ! could we call the many back 
 
 Who 've gathered here in vain — 
 Who 've careless roved where we do now, 
 
 Who '11 never meet again; 
 How would our very hearts be stirred 
 
 To meet the earnest gaze 
 Of the lovely and the beautiful — 
 
 The lights of other days." 
 
 In referring to the authorship of these stirring lines 
 on Old Blandford Church, we have said that they were 
 generally attributed to Tyrone Powers, an English 
 actor; by some others they were attributed to Mr. 
 Hiram Haines, the editor of the Petersburg Intelligencer; 
 but I have recently learned from a lady in this city, 
 Miss Nora Fontaine Davidson, a most intelligent and 
 vivacious lady, who still lives to great usefulness in 
 the present, but who holds more converse with the 
 heroic past than any other person of my acquaintance, 
 that they were neither written by Powers nor Haines. 
 She derived her information directly from her father. 
 Col. James M. Davidson, who surveyed the new part 
 of the Blandford Cemetery, and for perhaps forty years 
 was the custodian of the grounds and records, and who 
 was a worthy and veritable "Old Mortality." Miss 
 Davidson quotes her father, who said : "While sitting 
 in the old church one day in 1843 o'" 1844 I spied a 
 lady standing at the south wall of the church by the 
 door, with pencil in hand writing on the wall. Fearing 
 my presence might be an intrusion, I remained a silent 
 spectator. Some minutes elapsed, when, seeing me, 
 
342 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 she advanced, and I recognized in the writer an old 
 friend and schoohnate, Miss Henning, a daughter of 
 Chief-Justice Henning, of the Court of Appeals, and 
 who subsequently became Mrs. Schermerhorn." Miss 
 Davidson says that fact has been corroborated by Mrs. 
 Schermerhorn's sister, who was with her at the time 
 of the writing. This lady was a cousin, I believe, of 
 the late Wm. F. Spotswood of this city. 
 
 Lately the ''United Daughters of the Confeder- 
 acy" and the ''Daughters of the American Revo- 
 lution," two distinct organizations, have both sought 
 to get possession of the Old Church — the first to make 
 it a Memorial Chapel of the Lost Cause, and the second 
 to preserve it as one of the Historical ReUcs of 
 Colonial Virginia, and the contest between them has 
 been quite sharp and not always tempered with gentle 
 concession on either side, so much so that a parody has 
 appeared in one of the city papers — "Some more lines 
 on Old Blandford Church," "Author still unknown" — 
 in which the same rhythm and the same ring has been 
 perpetuated in a production proven worthy of the 
 original poem. But the gifted perpetrater need not 
 hope to hide his modest merit behind the cloak of un- 
 certainty that has so long shadowed the original. His 
 friends will certainly recognize in "Some More Lines" 
 the pen of the genial and talented engineer and super- 
 intendent of the Atlantic Coast Line, Mr. Morton 
 Riddle : 
 
 I. 
 
 "Thou art stirring up a dust, old pile ! 
 
 For it's quite the proper caper 
 To take thee from this loneliness 
 
 And exploit thee in the paper; 
 The worshipers are scattered now 
 
 Who knelt before thy shrine, 
 And D. A. R. and U. D. C. 
 
 Scrap o'er thee all the time 
 
Appendix -" 343 
 
 II. 
 
 "And sadly sighs the wandering wind, 
 
 Likewise the Index readers, 
 Who have to read "Commemorated," 
 
 Also the Editor's leaders. 
 The tread of many a noiseless foot 
 
 That sought thy aisles is o'er; 
 We hear the sounds of jeers and scoffs, 
 
 The "Daughters" have the floor. 
 
 III. 
 
 "How doth ambitious hope take wing. 
 
 How droops the spirit now! 
 We hear the never-ceasing din 
 
 And envy those below. 
 The sun that shone upon their paths 
 
 Now gilds their lowly graves. 
 Whilst we, the quick, must still endure 
 
 This column while it raves. 
 
 IV. 
 
 "Oh ! could we call this jaw match off 
 
 And live in peace once more. 
 Let Johnny Reb and Colonial Dame 
 
 Live happy as before; 
 How would our very hearts be stirred, 
 
 How full would be our cup 
 If the U. D. C.'s and D. A. R.'s 
 
 Would kiss, then make it up." 
 
 PERSONAL ANCESTRY, 
 
 As these are personal memoirs, I will here note that 
 my mother, Mary EHzabeth Weldon, was born in 
 Blandford and baptized in Old Blandford Church. She 
 was the daughter of Daniel Weldon, of Weldon, on the 
 Roanoke, North Carolina, and of Mrs. Mary Donald 
 Weldon, nee Eraser. Mrs. Weldon, her mother, was the 
 daughter of Simon Eraser, of the first of Donald & 
 Eraser (the latter a younger son of Simon Eraser, 
 Lord Lovatt of Scotland), Scotch merchants in Bland- 
 ford. She married, when very young, one of the 
 
344 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia 
 
 Randolphs, of Curls Neck, on James River, by whom 
 she had one child, John Randolph, who died soon 
 after coming of age. On the death of Mr. Ran- 
 dolph, who lived only a few years, she married my 
 grandfather, Mr. Weldon, of North Carolina, by whom 
 she had two daughters — one, my mother, just alluded 
 to, and the other, Jane Weldon, who married Dr. 
 James B. Claiborne, of Brunswick County, Virginia. 
 My grandfather Weldon only lived a few years after 
 this marriage, and my grandmother married a third 
 time. Her third husband was Dr. Blunt, of Belle View, 
 Southampton County, Virginia, by whom she had four 
 sons and three daughters. One of these sons, Simon 
 Blunt, displayed such courage in a fight with the 
 negroes in Nat. Turner's insurrection (1832) that, 
 though only a lad of 12 years of age. General Jackson, 
 then President of the United States, made him a mid- 
 shipman in the Navy. Another son, and the oldest, 
 William Blunt, my mother's half brother, was notified 
 in 1846 or 1847 that he was heir to the title and estates 
 of Lord Lovatt, of Beaufort Castle, in Invernesshire, 
 Scotland. He declined both title and estates, however, 
 and I have recently heard that the matter was in con- 
 tention for 20 years afterwards. But I suppose that 
 another heir was finally found, as I have learned 
 through the same source that a general officer in the 
 British Army in South Africa is Simon Fraser, General 
 Lord Lovatt, who, I presume, is one of my illustrious, 
 though unknown, kin. I can only wish that, if there 
 be such a person, he were fighting in a better cause 
 than striving to subdue a brave people contending for 
 the inalienable rights of home and country. But if he 
 really represents that sturdy stock of Highlanders 
 from which I am proud to draw my lineage on my 
 mother's side, I am sure that, in the place of General 
 Lord Roberts, it would hardly have taken him two 
 
Appendix 345 
 
 years and more to reduce with two hundred thousand 
 troops twenty thousand Boers. 
 
 I have made no reference to my father in this gen- 
 eralized diversion, though he was born in the vicinage 
 of Petersburg, and his dust, with the dust of my dead 
 for nearly two centuries past, sleeps in the hallowed old 
 cemetery of Blandford Church. The annals of the 
 Claiborne family are well known to all who take an 
 interest in them. I will only say that William Clai- 
 borne, of Kent's Island, who, from 1621 to 1647 ^^'^ 
 later, played no unimportant part in the history of Vir- 
 ginia and Maryland, was the ancestor of all people of 
 that name in this country. He was called at one time 
 "Claiborne the Rebel," and his name was clouded by 
 one or two historians; but Charles Campbell ("His- 
 tory of Virginia") and John Fiske ("Old Virginia and 
 her Neighbors") have happily cleared his name and 
 established his well-earned fame. Rev. Phihp Slaugh- 
 ter, in "History of Bristol Parish," says that his charac- 
 ter has been gracefully summed up by a gifted biogra- 
 pher, Rev. S. F. Streeter, of Baltimore. Mr. Streeter 
 says "the hand of prejudice, prompted by personal sub- 
 servience, traced on the tablet of History an inscrip- 
 tion as unjust to the character and actions of the de- 
 ceased, as unbecoming the dignity of the historic muse. 
 It has been reserved for an humble inquirer, and a 
 lover of the truth,, to erect a new cenotaph, which dis- 
 plays the name of Claiborne as worthy of honor and re- 
 spect; and which ranks him who planted it in this 
 country as a man of whom his descendants have every 
 reason to be proud — one of the earliest pioneers of 
 civilization, the first actual settler of the territory of 
 Maryland, and among the most active and prominent 
 citizens in the early days of Virginia, and one of the 
 most remarkable men of his time." 
 
346 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 AMERICAN BASTILES. 
 
 From the organization of the Government to the ad- 
 ministration of Mr. Lincohi we know of no case in 
 which an American citizen was arrested without war- 
 rant, imprisoned without charge, and released after 
 months and years of incarceration without trial. He 
 assumed quasi plenary power to make and enforce laws 
 without the aid, interference, or assistance of the legis- 
 lative or judicial branch of the Government. "The 
 Government was the President, and the President was 
 the Government." 
 
 No words we could use would bring relief to or re- 
 dress the wrongs perpetrated upon thousands of unof- 
 fending citizens by their unwarranted incarceration in 
 American Bastiles during his administration. We con- 
 template the cruelties, oppressions, persecutions, and 
 imprisonments committed during that long night of 
 political despotism with emotions akin to horror. Hon. 
 Jeremiah Black, writing to Mr. Quincy Adams, of 
 Massachusetts, says "there was nothing comparable to 
 the corruption and viciousness of the government since 
 the days of Robespierre and the French Revolution." 
 
 The whole land of the free Northern States was dot- 
 ted over with forts, penitentiaries, jails, barracks, and 
 prison camps, — x\merican Bastiles, — which contained 
 during the short period of four years from ten to tzventy 
 thousand men, besides women and children, all citizens 
 of free States, and incarcerated by the edict of one man 
 because they did not choose or were supposed not to 
 obey his mandates — suspects. The drama of the 
 French Revolution re-enacted. When Camille Desmoul- 
 ins was told during that bloody era to worship the 
 Goddess of Liberty, he replied, "If ye would have me 
 worship it [a statue in stone], open your prisons, set 
 free the two hundred thousand ye have incarcerated 
 
Appendix 347 
 
 as suspects. I find no such crime in the constitution 
 or the law." 
 
 Six hundred and eighty-seven years ago the people 
 of England, at Runnymede, an island in the river 
 Thames, wrested from King John the Magna Charta, 
 the great guarantee of personal hberty to every Eng- 
 lishman. It says : "No freeman shall be taken or im- 
 prisoned, dispossessed or outlawed, or in any way de- 
 troyed. Nor will we pass upon him nor commit him 
 but by the lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law 
 of the land. To no man will we sell; to none will we 
 delay; to none will we deny right or justice." 
 
 In these words are found the monuments of personal 
 liberty fought over and contested for in centuries of 
 bloody wars, but ever preserved intact, the pride and 
 the glory of the Briton of to-day. 
 
 When George III attempted to rob his colonies in 
 America of these sacred rights, which as Englishmen 
 they had brought over from the Fatherland, they re- 
 newed the fight on this continent and continued it until 
 the citizen's home was recognized as his castle, from 
 which he could only be ejected by law. The writ of 
 habeas corpus could be invoked to bring him face to face 
 with his accuser, and to guarantee to him a trial by his 
 peers before commitment for any offense. And these 
 rights were preserved undisputed and indisputable 
 from the acknowledgment of independence of these 
 United Colonies until the introduction into power of 
 the Republican Party and the usurpation of its un- 
 scrupulous leaders. What followed then? Then "the 
 word of the informer was the law, the sound of 
 Seward's httle bell was the signal, and the telegraph 
 the messenger. Citizens were arrested by thousands 
 and incarcerated without warrant. Judges were torn 
 from the bench, bruised and bleeding ; ministers of the 
 gospel, while performing the sacred of^ces and holy 
 
348 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 duties of their calling, were stricken down, dragged 
 through the streets and imprisoned. Women were in- 
 carcerated and subjected to insult and outrage. Doctors 
 were ruthlessly taken from the bedside of the dying 
 patient, and immured for months without warrant. 
 Lawyers were arrested and confined to the same cell 
 with their clients whose release they were endeavoring 
 to effect. Post-offices were searched, newspapers seized 
 and suppressed, and the editors handcuft'ed and secret- 
 ly hurried to prison. The writ of Jiabeas corpus was a 
 blank, and all of our inheritable rights poor, poor dumb 
 mouths." 
 
 After the destruction of the Bastile in Paris, which 
 for an hundred years, perhaps, had been the horrid home 
 of political prisoners in France, and their hidden graves, 
 Lafayette took the key of the accursed building and 
 sent it over to General Washington as a token of the 
 restoration of the liberty of the citizen. This key it is 
 said now hangs in the Mansion House at Mount Ver- 
 non. But where is the key to Fort Warren, to Fort Mc- 
 Henry, to Fort Delaware, to Fort Lafayette, to the old 
 Capitol Prison, to the Penitentiaries, to the casemates 
 and camps throughout the loyal North? 
 
 If any one thinks that in the above we have made an 
 exaggerated statement, let us refer him to a book 
 called "United States Bonds" and published soon after 
 the Civil War by the Rev. Dr. Handy, a Presbyterian 
 divine of unexceptionable truthfulness; or to "The 
 American Bastile," a history of Prisoners of State dur- 
 ing the Administration of President Lincoln, prepared 
 by a resolution of a convention of the "Prisoners of 
 State," by John A. Marshall, Esq. This note is taken 
 largely, and sometimes verbatim, from the latter book ; 
 also from "Three Decades of the Federal Union," by 
 Hon. S. S. Cox, of New York. But I may be asked, 
 Why recall all of this, why reproduce so much to-day 
 
Appendix 349 
 
 that was a disgrace and a scandal to free government 
 not forty years ago? Alas! it is not a "recall" or a 
 "reproduction" to many. The most of the witnesses 
 of the scenes recounted, the most of the sufferers from 
 the malignity of the passions of men, mad with power 
 and drunk with blood, have passed away. The op- 
 pressor and the oppressed, the murderer and his vic- 
 tim have met now before the Great Assize, where 
 wrong will be adjudicated in a light that will make bare 
 the truth, and before that Judge who declared that 
 "Vengeance is mine." Those for whom I write have, 
 the most of them, no bitter memories of war, no haunt- 
 ing recollection of the gall and iron of the days of re- 
 construction. The citizen of to-day is shutting his 
 eyes to the past; the times are prosperous, money is 
 plentiful, big jobs are given out by the Government, 
 and subsidies are assured to the faithful adherents of 
 party. Why? Where is the unreturning past? Why 
 does history never reproduce itself? What citizen 
 would have believed in the year of our Lord 1855 that 
 in one decade, in the induction of one man into power, 
 that a revolution would have been sprung upon a coun- 
 try the happiest and freest upon earth, the hope and 
 the haven of the oppressed of all nations, and that the 
 Constitution would be ignored ; that the laws would be 
 declared silent ; that the sovereignty of the State should 
 be abolished ; that a million of armed men should tram- 
 ple the fields then whitening with harvest ; that brother 
 would imbue his hand in brother's blood, until river 
 and rivulet were stained with scarlet; that helpless 
 women and more helpless children should be driven 
 out into winter's cold and made to witness the con- 
 flagration of homes and of food and of clothing — and 
 to their piteous appeal for mercy should be told by the 
 greatest in authority, by him who alone could have 
 helped them, that "war was hell, and the hotter he 
 
350 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 could make it the sooner it would be over." And that 
 when some of the noblest and best of the citizens, 
 upon whom no taint of crime or disloyalty could be 
 established, by thousands were arrested without law 
 and convicted without trial : that the Bastile with its 
 dungeons, its casemates, its silent cells awaited only 
 the order of one man to receive their hopeless victims, 
 and that the tinkle of a little bell could summon any 
 citizen from San Francisco to Washington, from the 
 Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic, and that only one man 
 could release him. 
 
 I ask again. Is history reproducing itself? Within 
 the last few years the President of the United States, 
 in violation of all the traditions of the Republic, and 
 of the teachings of the Father of his Country, and of 
 the Constitution and laws of his country, which he had 
 sworn before the High God to uphold, not only inau- 
 gurated a war, but bought after its outcome a colony of 
 ten millions of subj'ects in islands seven thousand miles 
 from the United States — bought from a party not hav- 
 ing right of possession, and paid twenty millions of dol- 
 lars for the same, without the will and consent of the 
 Senate. One Senator has persistently avowed that he 
 voted for the ratification of the treaties on personal 
 promise of the President that these islands should not 
 be retained. How many voted under the same im- 
 pression does not appear, but the islands are still held, 
 and the inhabitants are still subjects, not citizens; sub- 
 jects of an autocracy, are under civic-military rule, have 
 no more voice in the government which imposes and 
 collects taxes of them, and which makes the laws for the 
 regulation of their lives, and establishes the control of 
 them, than the subject of the Turk or of the Czar of 
 Russia. Can these things be corollaries of a past that 
 prognosticates no danger to the future? Is the liberty 
 of speech secured to the citizen of to-day? If so, why 
 
Appendix 351 
 
 not to the subject of our foreign possessions? If there 
 be a censorship of the press at Manila, is it too much to 
 beHeve that it may antedate a gag upon papers pub- 
 Hshed in New York or Washington? Mr. Stephen 
 Bonsall, a gentleman of character and observation, who 
 spent some months in the Philippines last year, and 
 who has published in the Nezv York Herald of January 
 26, 1902, some of the results of his observation, says 
 that when he advised an officer of the Government, 
 about to return to Washington, to tell what he had 
 seen as an ofificer in the field, that discreet gentleman 
 remarked that "the very first thing that he should do 
 when he got ofif the steamer would be to buy a pad- 
 lock and put it on his lips, and throw the key down the 
 deepest well he could find." 
 
 This may not have been very honest or patriotic, but 
 it is typical of what might have been reasonably ex- 
 pected. "The man on horseback" evidently rules our 
 citizens of the Philippines. How long before he shall 
 transfer his mount to the Capitoline Hill at Washing- 
 ton? Quoque tandem Cataline nostra patientia abutire! 
 
 DAHLGREN'S RAID 
 
 The papers found on Colonel Dahlgren's body, after 
 announcing in an address to his followers, his officers 
 and men, the desperate but "great and glorious under- 
 taking" before them, and advising any one who was 
 not willing to sacrifice his life in such a cause "to step 
 out and go home to the arms of his sweetheart, and 
 read of the braves who swept through the city of 
 Richmond," detailed the order of attack, with special 
 instructions to "guides, pioneers [with oakum, tur- 
 pentine, and torpedoes], signal officers, quartermas- 
 ters, pickets, and scouts in rebel uniform," etc. "After 
 getting- in to the city," he said, "we hope to release the 
 
352 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 prisoners on Belle Island first, and having seen them 
 fairly started, we will cross James River into Rich- 
 mond, destroying the bridges after us, and exhorting 
 the released to destroy the hateful city, and not to al- 
 low the Rebel leader and his traitorous crew to es- 
 cape. * * * " Further on he orders,, "once in the 
 city, the men must keep together, well in hand, and the 
 city be destroyed, and Jeff Davis and Cabinet killed." 
 
 These orders, extracts from which are here given, 
 were written on a sheet of paper having in printed let- 
 ters on the upper corner: "Headquarters Third Divis- 
 ion, Cavalry Corps — 1864," and were addressed to "of- 
 ficers and men." A full copy of these orders (papers 
 they were called) which were found on the person of 
 Colonel Dahlgren after he was killed was published in 
 the Richmond Dispatch of March 5, 1864. Such atrocity 
 of intention — imagine the reality of crime and the hor- 
 rors which would have followed the sacking and burn- 
 ing of a city filled with women and children, whose 
 natural protectors were absent in the army — excited an 
 indignation worthy, if possiljle, of such cruel and cow- 
 ardly malignity. Yet, though all of Dahlgren's imme- 
 diate followers were captured when he was killed or 
 during the following day, not one was made to pay any 
 other penalty than that of being incarcerated in Libby 
 Prison as prisoners of war! 
 
 Of course, indignant denial of the authenticity of 
 these documents was made by the Northern press, 
 which charged that they were forged by the Rebels. 
 Rear-Admiral Dahlgren, in a memoir of his son pub- 
 lished in 1872, reiterated the charge of forgery, and 
 makes a statement which he supposes establishes the 
 innocence of his son. Colonel Dahlgren's signal offi- 
 cer, Lieutenant Bartley, in a letter published December 
 24, 1864, also denies that any such "orders or address" 
 were ever issued or made. We cannot blame an hon- 
 
Appendix ' ' 353 
 
 ored and distressed father for his attempts to rescue 
 the name of a son from such obloquy as must ever at- 
 tach to it; but Lieutenant Bartley has invalidated his 
 testimony by referring to the treatment he received as 
 a prisoner of v^ar, saying, "All this brutal t; oatment 
 was inflicted upon us, according to the statement of 
 the Confederate prison officials, on account of those 
 papers said to have been found on the body of Colonel 
 Dahlgren at the time he was killed." In his case what 
 "this cruel treatment" was has yet to be demonstrated 
 and corroborated. It was evidently not what he de- 
 served, or it would not have been tempered with the 
 mercy which permitted him to testify as early as De- 
 cember, 1864, and while yet a prisoner of war, that his 
 captors were cruel and malicious. As to the authen- 
 ticity of the papers taken from the body of his com- 
 manding officer, that can be established by proof as 
 perfect and irrefragable as human testimony can 
 make it. 
 
 On failing to unite with Kilpatrick on the contem- 
 plated raid to Richmond, Dahlgren found himself ap- 
 parently left to his fate by that officer, and made a dar- 
 ing attempt to retreat through the counties of Han- 
 over, King William, and King and Queem, and reach 
 Gloucester, where he expected reinforcements or 
 troops would be sent to meet him. Though harassed 
 by small parties of Confederates on his way, on the sec- 
 ond night he had gotten, with small loss, to a place 
 called Stevensville, in King and Queen. Lieut. H. E. 
 Blair, afterwards Judge H. E. Blair, of Salem, Virginia, 
 a Confederate officer who had been captured two days 
 before by Dahlgren, and who had been detained and 
 rode with the enemy to this point, says : "I was riding 
 with the main line, near the front, when I perceived 
 there was some trouble ahead. Dahlgren rode forward, 
 I heard him challenge some one; heard him snap his 
 
 23 
 
354 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia '■ 
 
 pistol, which was at once followed by a fire in return. 
 That was the shot I suppose which killed him. A gen- 
 eral fire was opened by the Confederates, and the 
 Yankees were greatly alarmed and confused. I got 
 off my horse and opened a fence, and they retreated into 
 a field. I then called to our men, told them who I was, 
 and went to them ; they told me they had killed a man 
 with a wooden leg. I said to them, 'this is Dahlgren.' 
 They searched his person and found the papers which 
 were afterwards delivered to the Confederate Govern- 
 ment." 
 
 Judge Blair was witness number seven of the authen- 
 ticity of the papers. The body of Confederates which 
 intercepted and killed or captured Dahlgren and his 
 party was described by one of their number as "a 
 strange medley of regulars, raw troops, old farmers, 
 preachers, school boys, etc." The man giving the de- 
 scription says of himself that he was an humble school- 
 master — afterwards the Rev. E. W, Halback; and that 
 one of his school-boys, named Littlepage, was the first 
 to reach the body of the fallen officer, though none of 
 them knew who he was then, and who handed him the 
 papers. They were read the following morning after 
 they were captured by Captain Fox, Captain Pollard, 
 Rev. R. H, Bagby, and others, and were then turned 
 over to Captain Pollard and taken by him to Gen. R. 
 L. T. Beale, of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry, who carried 
 them to General Fitz Lee, and were taken by him to 
 President Davis. They were then sent by order of Mr. 
 Benjamin, Secretary of State, through General Stevens, 
 to Major Albert H. Campbell, of the Engineering and 
 Topographical Bureau, with instructions to make fifty 
 copies. One of these "photographic fac-similes of an 
 address to his men, and a memorandum or draft of in- 
 struction found on the person of Col. W. Dahlgren, 
 United States Army, when killed during his raid on 
 
Appendix 355 
 
 Richmond in 1864," was sent by Major Campbell to 
 Colonel George W. Munford, Secretary of the South- 
 ern Historical Society, March 7, 1874. All of these 
 ge»tlemen — men of undoubted character, and some of 
 high position — testify that the copy of the papers 
 published in the Richmond press was a true copy of 
 those taken from the body of Colonel Dahlgren. 
 
 Any one wishing to confirm this statement will find 
 the most conclusive testimony of the same, and a most 
 interesting account of the whole affair, in Vol. 3, 
 Southern Historical Papers, pages 219-221, by that gal- 
 lant soldier and high-toned gentleman, General R. T. L. 
 Beale, of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry; and again in 
 "Southern Historical Papers," pages 215-560, by sev- 
 eral participants in the stirring incidents of that raid; 
 and in a letter written to the Historical Magazine, New 
 York, 1870, by that peerless and chivalrous soldier, 
 General Fitz Lee, whom none will accuse at this day of 
 "setting down aught in malice" ; and in "Lost Cause," 
 page 504, by E. W. Halback. 
 
 Colonel Dahlgren's father complained that "nothing 
 better was permitted to the precious remains [of his 
 son] that a common pine box, the coarse shirt and 
 pantaloons of a Rebel soldier, with an ordinary camp 
 blanket for a shroud." Some of the people of the South 
 were silly enough to believe at that time that what was 
 good enough for a Rebel soldier was good enough for 
 a Yankee officer whose atrocious designs placed him 
 beyond the pale of treatment measured to an honor- 
 able enemy. General Lee, with subtle satire, says: 
 "Let us put the shoe on the other foot. Imagine Gen- 
 eral Early's body found in the vicinity of Washington 
 when his forces retired from there in July of the same 
 year, with orders upon it to 'destroy and burn the hate- 
 ful city' and 'to kill Abe Lincoln and his Cabinet,* ex- 
 horting long-pent-up prisoners with long-pent-up re- 
 
356 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia 
 
 vengeful feelings to do it. I ask, would his remains 
 have been taken up tenderly, and interred in the Con- 
 gressional burying ground, and his memory be cher- 
 ished as a 'martyred hero'?" 
 
 An incident of this raid showing the cruelty of which 
 Dahlgren was capable, and leading us to beheve that 
 the infamous orders, whose authenticity we have es- 
 tablished, were in consonance with his true character, 
 we read in the Detroit Free Press of March 11, 1882. 
 This was contributed by one of Dahlgren's staff, Lieu- 
 tenant Bartley. Mr. Bartley says, speaking of the ne- 
 gro guard in the expedition: 
 
 This man came down from Washington, and was sent by Stanton, 
 who was a personal friend of the Colonel. He made a bargain with 
 Kilpatrick and Dahlgren to take them to a ford at Davis's Mill, above 
 Richmond, when his services would cease ; and in case of any mis- 
 take or treachery on his part, he was to be hanged; and if he came 
 out all right he was to receive a large sum of money. He took us 
 safely through on these terms, and though he had plenty of oppor- 
 tunities to escape, never left us. There was no ford at Davis's Mill 
 on the river at all ; but a steam ferry, with the boat on the opposite 
 side. When asked why he had misled us he could or would not 
 give any satisfactory answer. The Colonel then told him that he 
 would have to carry out his part of the contract, to which the guide 
 assented, admitted that was the agreement, and made no objection to 
 the execution. He went to the tree without any force, and submitted 
 to his fate (hanging) without a murmur. 
 
 The comment made by Mr, Bartley upon this affair 
 was that it was "mysterious." Why mysterious? Mur- 
 der is sometimes mysterious, but never when done in 
 open daylight, and in the presence of a thousand wit- 
 nesses. A citizen testifies that there was a ford at Da- 
 vis's Mill, to which the poor negro conducted them, 
 but the river was swollen by rain and not fordable at 
 the time. But what was this to a man thirsty for blood 
 and impatient at the delay of the contemplated massa- 
 cre at Richmond ! The poor victim made no resistance 
 to his cowardly executioners, of course, and he was 
 
Appendix 357 
 
 hung by a halter like a dog. The same citizen said that 
 the tree was pointed out for years afterwards. 
 
 "WHO FIRED THE FIRST GUN?" 
 
 Dr. J. William Jones gives an account in a recent num- 
 ber of the Richmond Dispatch (October 6, 1901) of a 
 discussion which he overheard between a private sol- 
 dier of the Thirteenth Virginia Regiment and a Feder- 
 al colonel in reference to the origin of the war. He 
 said that he took no part in it, as he knew that in a dis- 
 cussion of that character the average Confederate pri- 
 vate was more than a match for the average Federal 
 colonel. The Federal colonel, with a considerable air 
 of superiority, said: "Sir, I will ask you one question, 
 which will settle this discussion : 'Who fired the first 
 gun in this war'?" As quick as a flash the private re- 
 plied, "John Brown fired the first gun at Harper's Fer- 
 ry; Major Anderson fired the second gun when he vio- 
 lated the agreement between himself and the author- 
 ities of South Carolina, and moved from Moultrie into 
 Sumter; Mr. Buchanan fired the third gun when he 
 sent the Star of the West to provision and reinforce 
 Sumter; Mr. Lincoln fired the fourth gun when he 
 violated the pledge made to the Confederate Commis- 
 sioners, and sent that fleet to Charleston Harbor — and 
 your people have been firing ever since. Now, if you 
 will just cease firing this war will stop and peace will 
 come at once." Says Dr. Jones, "The brave, intelligent 
 private clearly expressed the facts, and silenced the 
 Federal colonel, who had never before taken that view 
 of the case." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln did not expect to bring on war when he 
 called for seventy-five thousand troops from the differ- 
 ent States. After the passage of the first troops, the 
 Sixth Massachusetts, through Baltimore on April 16, 
 
358 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 1861, which led to a collision between them and the 
 citizens, resulting in the death of four soldiers and the 
 wounding of thirty-six, and the death of twelve citizens 
 (the number of wounded was never known), the city 
 of course was thrown into the wildest excitement. The 
 climax of this excitement was reached on the morning 
 of the 2 1st, when it was reported that more troops were 
 approaching from the North. Judge Brown, of that 
 city, says: "It was a fearful day in Baltimore. Men, 
 women, and children were wild with excitement. A 
 certainty of a fight in the streets was the pressing 
 danger." At five minutes before 11 A. M. the bell of 
 the town clock summoned to arms, and a large part of 
 the male population including boys and old meii, 
 thronged to headquarters, and arms and ammunition 
 were distributed and full preparations made for a con- 
 flict. The military proper were under command of 
 Major General George H. Stuart, and the un-uniformed 
 under command of Col. J. R. Trimble. In the mean- 
 time, a dispatch had been received from Washington, 
 saying that the troops had been ordered back to Har- 
 risburg. Mr. Lincoln had wired the Mayor of Balti- 
 more, at three o'clock that morning, to come to Wash- 
 ington and consult in reference to keeping the peace in 
 Maryland. The Mayor, Judge Brown, went to W^ash- 
 ington, accompanied by several prominent citizens of 
 Baltimore, and an interview was held with Mr. Lincoln 
 in the presence of the Cabinet and General Scott. At 
 this interview the President asserted with great earn- 
 estness that the protection of Washington was the sole 
 object of the concentrating of troops there, and that 
 none of the troops broj-ight through Maryland were 
 intended for any purpose hostile to the State or ag- 
 gression against the Southern States. 
 
 "In reply," Judge Brown says, "I addressed myself 
 to the President and said with much earnestness that 
 
Appendix; 359 
 
 the disabling of the bridges leading to Baltimore was 
 done by authority, and that it was a measure of pro- 
 tection in a sudden emergency designed to prevent 
 bloodshed in Baltimore, and was not intended as an 
 act of hostility to the general Government; that the 
 people of Maryland had always been deeply attached 
 to the Union, but that they, including the citizens of 
 Baltimore, regarded the proclamation calling for sev- 
 enty-five thousand troops as an act of war on the South, 
 and a violation of its constitutional rights; and that it 
 was not surprising that a high-spirited people, holding 
 such opinions, should resent the passage of Northern 
 troops through their city for such a purpose. At this, 
 Mr. Lincoln was greatly excited, and springing up from 
 his chair, walked backward and forward through the 
 apartment, and said with great feeling, *Mr. Brown, I 
 am not a learned man, I am not a learned man' ; that 
 his proclamation had not been correctly understood; 
 that he had no intention of bringing on war, but that 
 his purpose was to defend the Capital, which was in 
 danger of being bombarded from the heights across 
 the Potomac." 
 
 No more troops were brought through Baltimore, 
 but through Annapolis, continuously, until General 
 Butler, on the 13th of May, entered Baltimore with 
 two Northern regiments and inaugurated the series of 
 outrages upon the citizens of that city — outrages of 
 unparalleled ferocity and injustice — which continued 
 until the war was over. As soon as that especial piece 
 of treacherous villainy, worthy of its shameless and un- 
 principled author, was perpetrated, thousands of the 
 best men of the State — twenty thousand — left it and 
 came South, throwing in their fortunes with the cause 
 of right as interpreted by the Confederate Government. 
 
 It is not within the province of this paper to follow 
 farther the story of their patriotic and self-immolating 
 
360 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia 
 
 service in the Southern Armies. Literally leaving all, 
 — friends, fortune, home, — they laid down their lives 
 for principle. And wherever you find a Confederate 
 monument to the dead, there you will find at its foot 
 the grave of a Maryland soldier. 
 
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