Part 1

A BOY’S EXPERIENCE IN THE CIVIL WAR 1860–1865

PRESENTED TO

WITH COMPLIMENTS OF Thomas Hughes.

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1904 by THOMAS HUGHES, the author, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

During the Civil War.

My father, a skillful physician by profession, was by taste and inclination a controversal writer, a contributor to the newspapers, mixing up in the stir of the times. Before the Civil War his energy was devoted to a large and lucrative practice coupled with activities, social and political. At the opening of the struggle between the North and South his sympathies and associations ardently enlisted him in the fortunes of his native State, and he furthered by writing and personal work the adoption of the ordinance of secession which had been referred by the State Convention at Richmond to the Citizens of Virginia to adopt or reject. When the State seceded his ardent advocacy of the Southern cause and his labor in that behalf quickly brought him to the point of either taking the oath of allegiance as a loyal citizen of the United States or submitting to imprisonment. He declined the oath and was sent as a political prisoner in the spring of 1862 to Camp Chase near Columbus, Ohio, where he remained for nine months, when a special exchange was secured for him. This latter event he owed to a personal circumstance, one of those matters he usually evidenced an aptitude to turn to account. It occurred thus: one day a number of prisoners recently captured were brought in, and he learned that shortly before, the command to which they had belonged had taken a number of Union prisoners, and among them a brother of Dr. Pancost of Philadelphia. My father who had pursued his medical studies at Philadelphia and had been a student under Dr. Pancost at the Jefferson Medical College wrote to his former instructor, telling him of his brother’s capture and asking him to secure a special exchange of my father for his brother. This he accomplished and through friends my father was extended permission to have his wife and three of his children accompany him by flag of truce through the lines to Richmond. Ample time was allowed him to arrange his affairs for this and he was further permitted to take unlimited baggage. Our route was to Baltimore, to Fortress Monroe, to City Point, Petersburg and Richmond. Baltimore was reached between three and four o’clock in the morning and upon the recommendation of a fellow passenger we sought quarters at the Eutaw House. This hotel, then as now at the northwest corner of Eutaw and Baltimore Streets, was found crowded and we located in the parlor until later in the day a room was assigned us overlooking the court on Eutaw Street. A circumstance to impress was the crowded condition of the pavement extending from Eutaw Street to Calvert far in excess of what now exists after the lapse of over forty years, thus indicating the inrush here as the border city of the Civil War. The day our trunks were to be examined Major Constable, the provost marshall of the city was a guest at a dinner party given by my father at Barnum’s Hotel to which latter we had immediately removed, being told by our Baltimore friends that the Eutaw House was a hotel patronized by officers of the Northern army, whereas Barnum’s was a Southern Hotel. On the day succeeding the search of our baggage we left our hotel where we had remained about two weeks preparing for the trip South, and were driven in a carriage to the wharf of the boat for Fortress Monroe. Some informality attending the baggage required us to return until the succeeding day. It appears that some official undertook to claim the baggage had not been examined, notwithstanding the red connecting tape with the seal of the provost marshall’s ring in red wax at each end and it became necessary to have Major Constable straighten out the matter, which fixed us to leave the next evening. One of those heavy storms that occur on the Chesapeake Bay, with an alarm of fire on the boat were incidents of the trip, and General George H. Thomas of the Union Army who was a passenger and my father became acquainted with the result that the former’s influence was utilized to secure more pleasant accommodations on the flag of truce boat. The boats composing the flag of truce were three in number with only one, that carrying our family, carrying prisoners, all of whom were invalids, most of them suffering from wounds, some of them of a most frightful character. It seems unaccountable that those men in their condition should have been sent on a trip to occupy two days and two nights without either surgeon or nurses. My father was called upon to dress the wounds of several, one of whom markedly attracted my attention by the fact that his entire back seemed to have been shot away. Another, a young man about nineteen had his right arm and hand paralyzed. There were perhaps a hundred prisoners, all invalids. We started from Fortress Monroe in the morning and about dark reached Harrison’s Landing where we anchored for the night, it being inexpedient to travel except by day when our mission as a flag of truce could be observed. The three boats being brought together the evening was spent by the crew of the centre boat giving a theatrical entertainment to which all were invited. The performance simple, but amusing, consisted of a man who was supposed to be ignorant but shrewd, being accosted by the questionable people of the city he was visiting, in an effort to both rob him and have fun with him. As it was purely original and played by people who were likely portraying personal experiences, it was both intensely real and intensely amusing. The next evening we reached City Point after dark and the following morning in looking out my state room window I was delighted and elated at seeing away up on the bank alongside a frame house a Confederate soldier with gun doing picket duty. So constantly had I been thrown with Union soldiers and had only seen Confederates as prisoners of war that to see a Confederate soldier free and in arms doing duty on Confederate soil was like a haven long sought for. The train of two passenger coaches with an antiquated engine had brought down from Petersburg a large number of people evidently attracted by curiosity and a number collected on shore around the gang plank and exchanged newspapers with those on board the boats. The large quantity of baggage we carried quickly brought us trouble, for twelve trunks and a large chest for a family of two adults and three children at a time when one traveling by a flag of truce carried his baggage in his hand, excited suspicion and upon our arrival at Petersburg we were directed to there discontinue our trip to Richmond and my father was required to report daily to General Colston until his status as a loyal Southern citizen could be established. The Bollingbrook Hotel where we located was overflowing with Confederate officers, and after three days spent there and after word being sent from my father’s friends among them his cousin Jefferson T. Marten, Confederate States Marshall for Virginia and Charles W. Russell of the Confederate House of Representatives that if Dr. Hughes was not loyal no one was, we were permitted to proceed to our destination. I was impressed with the conviction that Gen. Colston’s action was merely from abundant caution, for the friendly spirit shown my father and the abundant good humor indicated that there was no real belief that all was not right, but that the circumstances required examination and explaining before we could be allowed to pass. A short ride soon brought our train to the long high bridge over the James River and as it crossed the bridge we got our first view of what was then wonderfully bustling Richmond with streets so crowded that Main Street from Eighth to Thirteenth on both sides was sometimes almost impassable, in marked contrast some years subsequent to the close of the war when on one business day during the busy hour of the day I once looked over the same stretch and counted in the entire length but three people. A rattling, uncomfortable omnibus carried us to the Ballard House, where we remained some weeks. This hotel, perhaps the best in Richmond, was in curious contrast to Barnum’s in Baltimore; at the latter every delicacy was furnished in abundance—at the Ballard House the dessert for dinner for instance consisted usually of rice pudding and apple pie, the balance of the menu and the balance of the meals were on the same scale. At this period there was only one other hotel in Richmond its equal, the Spottswood at Main and Eighth burned about a year after the war, and two more not so good, the American on Main Street opposite the post office destroyed by the fire when Richmond was evacuated, and the Powhatan on Eleventh opposite the Capitol Square and known after the war as Ford’s Capitol Hotel. The Exchange Hotel was then closed. At that time gold was worth about one dollar for three of Confederate. In 1864 and 1865 it was worth one for sixty or seventy Confederate and board at the Spottswood was then about seventy dollars a day. Bread was worth a dollar a loaf, a large ginger cake cost a dollar and a pie cost a dollar, curious disproportions.

An incident illustrative of a political canvass among soldiers was one of the occurrences that soon attracted my attention. An election for Confederate congressman for the District of Virginia, which now comprises a part of the State of West Virginia was under way; the candidates were Charles W. Russell formerly of Wheeling and a Dr. Kidwell of, I believe, Clarksburg. The district was entirely in the Union lines and hence the only voters were Confederate soldiers and refugees. Dr. Kidwell had headquarters at the Ballard House in a room opening immediately on the ladies’ entrance on Franklin Street at the corner of Thirteenth and it was an occasion to make one cheerful to see the Doctor who was tall and slender smilingly dispense good cheer from numerous decanters to the many refugees and a few soldiers who sought him. Mr. Russell also boarded at the same hotel, but he evidently felt pretty secure, as he made no effort to entertain and his room was on the upper floor. This canvass was in marked contrast with another that went on near the same time at the Powhatan. An election for the State Legislature was near and the candidates from the legislative districts in what is now West Virginia met the same conditions, namely, their territory was exclusively in the Union lines and the voters were refugees and soldiers. Several of the candidates boarded at the Powhatan and the meetings in the Congressional candidates’ room that were more formal by reasons of the callers being from divers sections, now in the case of the Legislative candidates became more sociable and nightly refugees and soldiers from the same local section assembled and intensely enjoyed the gossip that went on in a dense cloud of smoke from tobacco pipes.

My father was a candidate for some medical position in the gift of the President and by appointment he was taken accompanied by me to call upon Mr. Davis. The President’s office was on the second floor of the post office building entering from Bank Street, the street in the rear of Main Street, and on the right side of the hall. My father took with him for presentation to the President a curiously carved cane that had been constructed by one of the prisoners at Camp Chase. Constructing articles of this sort being the way prisoners passed their time. This particular cane was made of pine wood, had winding serpents carved along it and was varnished a dark, brown bright color. In the entree room was only the President’s secretary and no others. When we were ushered into the President’s room we found him alone. He was standing in the center of the room and remained standing during the short interview which lasted about five minutes, he did little talking, most of it being done by my father, he had a natural, pleasant manner and gave close attention to what was said to him and was apparently ignorant of my presence. I was only a little boy twelve years of age. He was a small, delicate, but active man dressed entirely in black, and one day after the war I saw him as I believe walking on Baltimore Street in Baltimore, looking exactly as I had seen him that day in his office in Richmond, except that he no longer had the air of concentration shown at our interview. It was rather a mystery to me how my father, a homeopathic physician, expected to obtain a prominent medical position in the Government when allopathic physicians alone held sway and homeopathy was unknown, but as he usually managed to get what he wanted and I never made comments I said nothing, although my notion turned out to be correct.

Homeopathy was not very extensively known in Richmond, a few years before a physician of that school who had been located there had left and from him or some member of his family my father obtained a list of his former patients. He formed the acquaintance of several and his journalistic relations formed in past years as a contributor to the newspapers led him to look to the Richmond papers for help, so that most of the papers were of great service to him. The Examiner had an elaborate editorial on the subject of Homeopathy. The Enquirer, the Dispatch and the Whig also contained flattering notices and Mr. Ritchie of the Enquirer, Mr. Coworden and Mr. Ellison of the Dispatch and Mr. Alexander Mosely of the Whig became his patients, as did also Mr. Smith of the Sentinel when that paper was subsequently established, so that the associations he thus formed, together with his being elected to the Legislature to represent Ohio county in the Virginia House of Delegates enabled him to keep his family in comfort. The latter office gave him many privileges. For instance my shoes were gotten at the Penitentiary whose superintendent Mr. Knote was a constituent of my father, and most nice fitting shoes they were. He had passes over all the railroads and his trips were both pleasant and productive of luxuries for at a time when coffee was made of cornmeal rolled in sorghum molasses, roasted and ground, and the only cloth was homespun and tea was about non-existent as also loaf sugar, indeed everything reduced to the simplest, the rations of the soldiers for instance being nearly exclusively cornmeal and bacon, a trip of my father to Wilmington, North Carolina, led him to visit a blockade runner from Nassau, the steamer Hansa, and when the captain ascertained who he was, and through him he could obtain an introduction to the President and others in authority at Richmond, a shipment was received at our house from this ship of a bag of coffee, a box of tea, a barrel of loaf sugar and cloth for suits of clothes and toys for the children. It should be added that my father’s skill as a physician quickly became recognized and his practice had extended to the families of those occupying the highest official positions under the Government. Upon another occasion on one of his trips he had obtained under some advantageous arrangement a large amount of flour. This he determined to sell and one evening he sold it to a baker on Broad Street and the very large amount of money paid in bulky bills, he, out of apprehension for the garroters that infested Richmond at this time, concealed under my coat around my person, knowing there was slight danger of any attempt to rob a young boy with ostensibly nothing to take from him. The comparative luxury which we were enabled to enjoy was participated in by my father’s constituents, for the Confederate soldier from our district when visiting Richmond on furlough was welcomed and entertained so that this period of my life is one that I look back upon more than any other as the most pleasant and enjoyable. To what a simple basis living had been reduced it may be noted that instead of candles long wax tapers wound around in pyramid shapes were used, sorghum molasses, black eye peas and bacon and cabbage and potatoes and cornmeal were the staples. Flour bread was rather a luxury. There were two principal confectionery stores: Pisani on Broad Street near 10th and Antoni on Main Street near 9th, but the scant array in each was in sad contrast to the luxury now found in any first class confectionery, at the former one could get a saucer of ice cream, at the last a glass of jelly. The scarcity of food and narrowness of range was in great contrast to the vast number of people on the streets. On Main Street from the Spottswood Hotel at 8th down to 13th Street near where the Examiner and the Whig newspapers were located was a dense stream of people on each side, mostly officers in uniform, for the private was sure to be stopped by the provost guard that paraded up and down the sidewalk looking for soldiers who were away without leave.

Free newspapers were another perquisite of legislators, except they must send for them and my mission was to attend in 12th Street at the newspaper offices early each morning among the crowd assembled there waiting the distribution of the papers of which four: the Dispatch, Examiner, Whig and Sentinel were in the immediate vicinity and the fifth the Enquirer around on the other side of Main Street. It was upon one of these occasions that I witnessed a memorable funeral of a soldier, Lieutenant Noah Walker, whose home was in Baltimore who had been recently killed in an engagement, his head having been, it was stated completely destroyed and the Maryland friends in Richmond had been requested to assemble early one morning at a warehouse opposite the Examiner office at his funeral service. There were not many who came, probably twenty. It was pathetic to observe the concern and silent regard that each one manifested as strangers in a strange city away from their home and friends doing homage to the memory of one who possessed an amiable, gentle nature that attached all who knew him. The occasion particularly appealed to me when told who he was, as this gentleman when we first arrived in Richmond and when our straightened circumstances required us to live all in one room had been a guest at one of our breakfasts, which consisted of rolls and breakfast bacon broiled by my father on the open fire of the room and which we all deliciously enjoyed. The Marylanders and especially Baltimoreans were particularly attentive in observance of respect for their compatriots and the funeral of Lieutenant Walker was very much like that which took place at St. James Church of Gen’l. Dimmock, the same assemblage of serious visaged men, who indicated in their appearance that they were strangers away from home and familiar associations and with an earnest concern for the occasion and for each other. These experiences that appeal to Marylanders were in contrast to another when General Pegram was married in St. Paul’s Church to Miss Hetty Carey of Baltimore. Gen’l. Pegram in full Confederate uniform and with sword at his side was accompanied by Miss Carey, entering the church together. She wore over her dress a heavy sash of red, white and red hanging over the right shoulder and falling down below the waist on the left side. There was no appearance of strangeness there and no air of constraint and all was great joyous expectancy and full of life. Miss Carey was one of the belles of Richmond and consequently the church was crowded. I stood in the vestibule next to the inner door and as the two passed the scene was in marked contrast to the sad sequel very soon to occur when Gen’l. Pegram lost his life in battle.

Another circumstance of my father’s life as a legislator was the opportunity afforded me of seeing and knowing the prominent persons connected with both the Confederate and State governments and I soon formed the acquaintance of almost every one in the State House. I had the free run of the entire Capitol and was very much aided in this by being taken from the private school I was attending, Mr. Alfriend’s, who afterwards was the author of the life of President Davis, and placed under a private tutor Mr. Burrell, a very old gentleman employed as a clerk in the Auditor’s Office in the Capitol. I do not know whether the Capitol presents the same appearance now as then, when the Legislature is in session, but then around the rotunda was stretched a circle of peanut stands, eight or ten in number and the floor was strewn with peanut shells, tobacco juice and dirt and no one seemed to object. On the side facing towards Broad Street on the first floor over the basement was the House of Delegates, in the room over this was the State Senate; opposite the House of Delegates across the rotunda was the Confederate House of Representatives and in the room above was the State Library.

Free access to the Capitol gave me the opportunity to observe minutely the funeral arrangements for General Thomas J. Jackson. Stonewall Jackson’s remains were brought to Richmond to lie in state in the Capitol preparatory to his funeral. And they arrived late one evening and were first deposited in a little room on the left of the entrance to the Capitol on the side next to the Governor’s house. The burial casket was placed on a bier, uncovered, and the custodian of the Capitol permitted a favored few including myself to view the remains. The coffin had evergreen heavily intertwined around it. There were no flowers. His face was exactly as appears in his photographs, except it was thinner, the features were perfectly placid, not evidencing that he had suffered pain, his whiskers and mustache were of unusual thickness, his forehead high and his hair coal black. I brought a small portion of the evergreen on the casket away with me. After lying in state when his funeral took place the cortege was preceded by a brass band that played a funeral dirge; the horse that General Jackson rode with General Jackson’s boots hanging down one on each side of his saddle came next to the hearse and was led by his body servant. The funeral was impressive as only such a one could be.

The Capitol and grounds were the center for interesting occurrences. The second inauguration of Mr. Davis as President of the Confederacy took place in front of Washington’s monument situated near the entrance to the grounds from Grace Street. The ceremony was on the side facing the Capitol and a dense concourse of people extended from that point almost to the Capitol building. I was on the outskirts of this crowd and could only see the outline of the figures of the participants in the ceremony.

On another occasion Gen’l. Henry A. Wise, ex-governor of the State, who was levantly called “fire eater” was to make a speech in the hall of the House of Delegates. His popularity and general interest to hear him was evidenced by an assemblage that became so dense that an unusual expedient was adopted, namely, an adjournment was had to the same point from which Mr. Davis was inaugurated and when the speaker with the crowd assembled reached the monument a rain came up so that he was obliged to return, a large number of persons having quit because of the rain, thereby leaving the room comfortably filled. His slender spare frame, almost haggard countenance and shrill voice, all of themselves rendered him a spectacular speaker and his eloquence directed immediately to you made him an interesting speaker.