Part 2

A curious occurrence took place daily in Capitol Square in the morning before breakfast. A company of decrepit old men, all I think without exception were thus, assembled on the broad walk along the Capitol facing Capitol Street to drill as soldiers. The only striking quality about them was their evident inability for service from old age and yet the cheerfulness and zeal with which they handled their muskets and went through simple evolutions evidenced a spirit unconscious of non utility. This company shortly before Richmond was evacuated was succeeded at the same place and at the same time daily by an equally curious assemblage and that was a company of negroes, intended to form the embryo negro troops for the Confederate army. I have heard it often declared that no negro troops were ever enlisted on the Southern side. For a considerable time before the war ended the enlistment of negroes as troops was earnestly deliberated and the efforts in this direction in the Virginia Legislature led to the formation of this Company of State troops. My father as a member of the Legislature warmly advocated the enlistment of negroes, having made an elaborate argument in the House of Delegates for that purpose.

This company of negroes comprised about fifty or sixty men, about 25 or 30 years of age, were almost entirely dark mulattoes, wore no uniforms, indeed few soldiers in the Confederacy wore uniforms except the officers and most of theirs were shabby and old. The striking peculiarity about this negro company was one that had appeared to possess the company of old men, namely that while evidencing interest in their drill it appeared to be for only momentary purposes and it all seemed to be viewed as without any subsequent purpose. And the peculiarity about the negro company was that they appeared to regard themselves as isolated or out of place, as if engaged in a work not exactly in accord with their notions of self interest, no doubt attributable to the fact that their inclination must have been against engaging on the Southern side. Their reward for enlistment I believe was to be freedom from slavery. The life of a free negro in a slave holding country was however not a very attractive one. He was usually shunned by the slaves, who were jealous of him and from whom he usually held aloof and the whites regarded him with suspicion as unreliable and indifferent.

An incident occurred in my experience at the Capitol that may be regarded as of particular interest. I have a portion of the Confederate flag that floated over the Capitol, the Capitol of the Confederacy at the fall of Richmond. When last in Richmond the Librarian in the State Library upon my asking him what had become of the flag, showed me a small bundle of bunting lying in a glass book case and he said it was portions of the flag that people had brought back and given to the Library. I told him I had a piece but intended to retain it. Mine came into my hands in this wise. As my father was a member of the House of Delegates this gave me the run of the Capitol and I was intimate with the pages in the House. On one of our excursions through the building we went through the Library and through a garrett above and then through a trap door onto the roof, in returning I was last and lying on the roof, half inside the open trap door was the flag, at the end it had a slit about one inch long and wide and it was so suggestive that involuntarily almost I continued the slit for the flag’s entire length and tearing the strip away, rolled it up and put it in my pocket.

At another time I ran across the Vice President Alexander H. Stephens. Something attracted his attention to me. He regarded me with curious interest, I presume because a little boy was observing him so closely. His lameness and delicately drawn features were sufficient to attract, but his small stature and earnest, studious expression of countenance were equally attractive. He like most of the persons I saw or met in a prominent government relation in Richmond seemed to take the life of these strenuous, stirring times most philosophically and in a matter of fact way free from worry or excitement. When it is remembered that the cannonading below Drury’s Bluffs on the James River below Richmond could not only be distinctly heard but it was only necessary to secure an elevation and see the distinct flash of the cannon it will be seen how close we constantly lived to conditions of trouble. Often I climbed the garrett of the Powhatan Hotel, where many of my legislative friends boarded to see the flash of the cannonading.

Genl. Smith, ex-governor, “extra Billy Smith” he was called was another interesting person I met at the Capitol. The reputation he had acquired of kissing all the babies on his election tours was warranted by his manner. Ease of bearing, perfect accord with you, absolute freedom from any ostentation were patent, no effort to lead in conversation, the friendly utterances of an old friend all bespoke in him the consummate politician rather than the soldier.

One of the most historical events that occurred in Richmond I have never seen referred to in any writing. It was after the return of the unsuccessful peace mission to Fortress Monroe. A mass meeting was held in the African Church in Broad Street near the Monumental Church and the speakers were detailing to the audience the events and results of the mission. One of the last speakers was Judah P. Benjamin, Secretary of State of the Confederacy, and one of Mr. Benjamin’s declarations was made with great vehemence that as long as a drop of blood flowed in his veins and until the last drop, he would never surrender. It is peculiar that Mr. Benjamin was entirely consistent in this declaration of his, because as the Southern Confederacy faded away he escaped in an open boat to one of the near by South Atlantic islands of England, Bermuda, I think, and ultimately reached London where he achieved great eminence in his profession as a lawyer and ultimately retired to Paris where he died without ever returning to the United States.

General John H. Morgan I saw immediately upon his return as a prisoner from the North. He was warmly greeted in Richmond and his gratified expression showed his appreciation. His healthy complexion, well kept, full appearance and free from care air indicated, that although a prisoner he had evidently been supplied with necessaries that were strangers to the meagerly supplied Confederate officers in active service. Genl. Morgan was of rather more than medium size and development and reminded one more of the bonhomie clubman, bordering on the genial and agreeable Bohemian rather than impressing one as the bold dashing border raider in which he had acquired his reputation, and as which he soon after leaving Richmond lost his life.

General J. B. Stewart, “Jeb Stewart,” who commanded the Confederate cavalry was of a remarkable personality. I saw him riding at the head of his cavalry in passing through Richmond. His hair was black and long, his face was full, with large eyes and a prominent nose, his shirt was cut low particularly in front, showing a massive neck. He sat on his horse the perfection of a horseman, holding the bridle in such a way that the horse, a well kept one, seemed to partake of his rider’s intense vitality. Although Genl. Stewart was unlike General Pickett, yet something applicable alike to the two reminded me the one of the other and when I saw General Pickett at the head of his command, as I did, pass through Richmond before the battle of Gettysburg and then saw this same command with its thinned out ranks on its return after the campaign in which that battle took place, the contrast was so heart rending that it was an exceedingly sad welcome extended them. Troops were constantly passing through Richmond the last two years of the war and the scantiness which existed in rations to which I have already alluded, the staple fare being corn bread and bacon, extended to the clothes of the soldiers. In a large command for instance a brigade it was customary to see numbers of soldiers without coats, others without hats, others without shoes, conditions almost incredible to believe unless actually seen as I often did. Upon one occasion while it was snowing a brigade of infantry was marching up Main Street and when it reached the Spottswood Hotel a hatter named Dooley who kept a hat store under the Spottswood rolled from his store a number of large wooden boxes, broke them open and took therefrom a collection of shop worn straw hats which he forthwith preceded to distribute to those of the soldiers who were without any covering for their heads to shield them from the falling snow. How our soldiers with all their discomforts, privations and sad conditions were capable of doing any fighting instead of being the brave, enduring men they were furnished a great tribute for the Southern spirit, and the Southern cause.

General Ewell while he was recuperating from his serious wounds lived immediately opposite our house on Marshall street in Richmond and would daily on his crutches walk up and down the porch. He was tall and slender and in his neat gray uniform and with his dark bushy whiskers enveloping a pallid face his appearance was a reminder of the suffering he had endured.

General Jubal Early was a small, active nervous man with a curious mixture of force of character and apparent volatileness. His most striking characteristic was unceasing restlessness. He said nothing and did nothing that was particularly impressive, but in a large room crowded with men with no particular deference shown to him I was instantly attracted by the movements of one whom I soon learned was General Early and I then understood how he had worked out the results he had in his historical valley campaigns.

Colonel Mosby I never saw until shortly after the war ended, that was at the funeral of Hon. Charles W. Russell in Baltimore. He was a man that reminded me very much of General Early except that he was of a quiet bearing, closely shaven, with keen eyes and an incisive manner and one could believe how he had been successful in the many raids that had made him famous. On one of these raids he had captured General Benjamin F. Kelley and General Crook, two Major Generals in the Union Army, having ridden one night with a detachment of his cavalry through the Union lines to the Hotel in Romani where they were staying, required them to rise, dress and accompany him past their own troops into the Confederate lines, the Federal troops supposing Mosby’s men to be a detachment of their own cavalry. The two captured generals were brought to Libby prison in Richmond. Genl. Kelley had married into a family with whom my own family was intimate and my father when he learned of General Kelley’s arrival arranged to visit him. We took with us a large market basket filled with eatables, such as Maryland biscuit, a boiled ham and other nice things and after passing through the outer offices of the prison we came into the large room where General Kelley was. I was struck with the very small number of prisoners in so large room; Libby Prison had been a tobacco warehouse and this one of the large rooms of the warehouse, on the first floor from the entrance and second floor from the rear. There was only one other Union officer besides General Crook in the room and he was in the open space between that and the next room. We talked with General Kelly near the window in the rear, there were no chairs in the room and General Crook stood off in the middle of the room viewing us with curiosity. He had on long boots that came above his knees, his pants being inside and one foot was on the floor and the other, his right, resting on a box, he was slightly stooping over with his right hand on his knee. General Kelley called to him and he came over where we were and after being introduced joined in our conversation. The extreme pleasure shown by General Kelley and the interest of General Crook at our visit was always a pleasant experience in my life which made me follow in watching the fortunes of these two Union officers until each passed to the other shore, the last being General Crook, his death affecting me markedly from the deep impression he had made on me in that interview and from the close observation I had kept of him.

There was another prison in Richmond not so well known in the North as Libby Prison, but was better known in Richmond and to many Southern soldiers and that was “Castle Thunder.” That was where deserters were kept and the gentleman in command of the prison was Captain Alexander from Baltimore. I once dined with him and his wife at the house where they boarded. I was a guest of Captain and Mrs. Alexander and they had another guest about my age, Rosa, the little daughter of Mrs. Greenhough of Washington, who after surviving a period of confinement in the Capitol Prison at Washington almost within the shadow of the statue sculptured by her husband had been permitted to come South to Richmond accompanied by her daughter.

There was still another military prison in Richmond and that was “Belle Isle,” out in the middle of James River. As Libby Prison was exclusively for captured officers, so Belle Isle was exclusively for privates of the Union Army, and just as I had been deeply impressed with the few prisoners in Libby Prison, I was markedly impressed with the throngs of prisoners at Belle Isle. I once accompanied my father and a number of our soldiers to call upon one of the prisoners at Belle Isle. This prisoner was sent for to come to the gate to talk with us, but when he came he did not seem particularly glad or sorry to see us and seemed to regard us with uninterested curiosity rather than anything else.

General Robert E. Lee I met just after the war closed. He had returned to his home in Richmond on Franklin street between 7th and 8th, a house that belonged to Mr. John Stewart, a wealthy Scotchman who resided at his country place on the Brooke Turnpike and had his business office in the basement of the Franklin street house. Mr. Stewart’s family and General Lee’s wife were patients of my father. Mrs. Lee had long been an invalid and upon the occasion of meeting General Lee I accompanied my father who went to pay a professional visit to Mrs. Lee. I carried with me six of General Lee’s photographs intending to ask him to sign his name on each. We were ushered into the parlor and General Lee almost immediately appeared. My father introduced me and then went upstairs to see Mrs. Lee leaving me with General Lee who invited me over to a seat on the sofa in the corner by a window alongside of him, he sitting next to the window. Prior to sitting on the sofa however, I told him I had brought my photographs to ask him to sign his name to them and he took them to the dining room in the rear of the parlor where he said there were pen and ink and soon returned with his name signed to each and all of which I subsequently gave away, except two that I still have. On taking his seat alongside of me I was struck with the naturalness and simplicity of his actions and conversation. He had a full face, clear, open eyes, healthful complexion, full beard of gray and carried himself in a quiet naturally dignified way. In reply to his questions I told him I had been before the war closed and up to the evacuation of Richmond a cadet at the Virginia Military Institute, being the youngest cadet in the corps, and no doubt had been the youngest that ever attended there, being only fourteen years and six months old. He told me that he had just had a visit from and talk with General Smith, the Superintendent of the Institute who told him he purposed to make arrangements without delay to reopen the Institute at Lexington its former home before it was destroyed by General Hunter of the Union Army, and I urged General Lee to intercede for me with my father to permit me to return to the Institute. It was a great source of personal gratification to me, a young boy to have had this talk with General Lee. There is one feature with reference to General Lee that I deem it necessary to advert to. In some way, I know not how, it has been recognized as true that General Lee entertained great respect and high personal regard for General U. S. Grant. I know that General Lee had occasion from time to time to write from his headquarters around Richmond to my father in reference to Mrs. Lee’s condition and in one of these letters he gave distinct expression to the views he entertained in reference to General Grant. It is possible that these views were modified at the time of his personal intercourse with General Grant incident to the surrender of his army, but one would find difficulty in discovering any thing in the incident of the surrender other than those of a negative character calculated to produce decided changes in an opinion preconceived of General Grant’s character: and one’s opinions in matters of this sort are not usually affected by negative influences. The views expressed by General Lee in his letter were not those popularly accepted after the war as expressing a high regard for General Grant, but were the views generally entertained and expressed of General Grant by the Southern people in the South during the war, except that General Lee was utterly incapable of voicing the popular Southern expression wherein General Grant was styled in the South during the war by the Southern press and by popular expression there, horrible as it now sounds, a “butcher” in consequence of the apparently heartless way in which he subjected great bodies of his troops to what appeared useless loss of life.

In one of my interviews with Colonel Charles Marshall of Baltimore with whom I enjoyed many years of intimate professional relation, I stated to him what I have above referred to, mentioning the sentiments expressed by General Lee in his letters to my father. Colonel Marshall who had been General Lee’s private secretary during the war gave me to understand that he knew they were the sentiments actually entertained.

Governor Letcher was the war governor of Virginia. Those who called upon him were received in a room in the State House at one end of which stood a large side board occupied by decanters and glasses, a part of his Creed was to extend the hospitality of this side board to each visitor. Virginia hospitality required him to keep company in the partaking of the refreshments with the result that he had a phenomenally red face, perpetually wreathed in smiles. It can be understood that delegations of legislators often called upon him. He also frequently held evening receptions that were exceedingly agreeable and very popular, although never crowded and at one of these receptions which I attended I remember viewing with astonishment, a portly man with long black curls hanging down his back and with him an exceedingly pretty young girl whom I learned was his daughter. This individual was well known in Richmond and will be recognized without further description by any one conversant with Richmond life during the war. At the time General Hunter burned the Military Institute at Lexington he also burned Governor Letcher’s house located there in revenge for which it will be remembered that Harry Gilmor on his raid into Maryland burned the house of Governor Bradford on Charles Street Avenue a few miles out from Baltimore. This same Harry Gilmor possessed qualities of a superior character, for I remember that after the war when he returned to Baltimore, with the occupation for which nature fitted him as a soldier, gone, instead of his becoming a stipendiary on the bounty of his friends, he engaged for a while as a journeyman painter, although no one had been raised with better rights to gentle associations and I once viewed him with intense interest painting the front of a house on the west side of Eutaw street near Franklin and he was doing his work earnestly and well. With a slight natural defect in one of his eyes, his face was entirely oblivious to the fact of anything unusual in his occupation, a spirit of independence that soon after led to his being elected sheriff of the City. This same position of sheriff was also held by another returned Southerner who had gone to Richmond from Baltimore where he had been Marshal of Police shortly after we had passed through on our way to Richmond. This genial gentleman, George P. Kane, showed in every trait and manner his racial extraction and it was no matter of wonder that he passed from sheriff to Mayor of the City.

When the Virginia Military Institute was burned after the battle of New Market where the cadets lost a number who were killed and where many were wounded, the corps was sent to Richmond. Every Richmond boy had a great ambition to go to the Institute, at that time regarded as the West Point of the South. The cadets were a part of the Confederate army and every graduate was given an officer’s commission in the army. Incidents were constantly occurring to keep alive and active this spirit to become a cadet—boys have little fear of bullets, they enjoy the excitement of active army life and even death and wounds appeal to them as making heroes. After the battle of New Market one of the cadets a son of Dr. Cabell of Richmond who was killed in that battle was brought to Richmond for burial and his funeral took place from his father’s home on Franklin street where he lived, a neighbor of General Lee. I remember as the remains after the service were borne down the front steps and through the iron front gate the intense awe and respect in the face of the young men assembled on the pavement around the entrance to the open space in front of the house. It was here I believe I first formed the determination to be a cadet and, strange to say, when I first entered the cadet ranks, the drill master assigned to our squad was Bob Cabell, a brother of the cadet whose funeral I had attended that day.