Chapter II: Part 2

The Cadets of the Virginia Military Institute were in number about five or six hundred, were from all over the South and ranged in age from about sixteen years to about twenty-four or five. I entered the Institute shortly before the evacuation of Richmond and enjoyed the distinction, as I have stated, of being the youngest cadet in the corps. When the cadets first came to Richmond, they marched with singularly soldier-like precision and carriage out Grace street to the Fair grounds where they were for a time quartered. The uniforms of the boys as also their food began to partake of the Confederate soldier variety and it was pathetic to see some of these boys marching in ranks through Richmond to their quarters with pants torn or worn out at the bottom and variegated in outfit, some with cadet jackets and plain pants, others with cadet pants and plain jackets. The Richmond Alms House was assigned to the cadets for their quarters. Life there would have been ordinarily recognized as singularly trying; to the young men in the corps it was a perpetual joy, alloyed alone by the obligation to attend lectures. The rooms that were a delight to them were simply unmentionable. In my room about twelve feet wide and twenty-four feet long were sixteen cadets who slept and studied there. In the day time the mattresses were piled each on top of the other in a single corner of the room—at night time they were arranged side by side with head against the wall. One long table occupied the center of the room. It was supposed to be a study table and was occupied at night by a favored one to sleep upon. In the day time it was never occupied except by the boys lounging upon it in lieu of chairs, smoking their pipes and gossiping. Pure atmosphere day or night in that room was not needed by those young men with their wonderful vitality. In day time the air was redolent with tobacco smoke from their pipes. At night time the door was invariably kept closed by any who were up playing cards or gossiping after the retiring hour to shut out from view the officer of the guard, who whenever he wished to investigate for such breaches of discipline always discreetly and considerately knocked before entering, opening the door to find everything in perfect order. Each room had a petty officer, usually a corporal, a senior who was supposed to be responsible for the good order and cleanliness of the room. One of the duties of this senior was to initiate by “bucking” any new cadet introduced into his room. This “bucking”, peculiar to the Institute, consisted in taking the new comer’s right hand, carrying it behind his back, twisting it around until he was compelled thereby to bend over when he would be struck by the senior with a bayonet scabbard on his posterior once for each letter in his name and in the event he was without a middle name he was given the right to select one and upon failure to do so was given the name Constantinople for its many letters. Thereupon he was dubbed a “rat”, which name he bore for one year. He was liable to have trouble for the whole first year and might have to take another bucking or stand up to a fight, which usually was brought about in a formal way and was a great affair. The corporal of our room was a mild mannered gentlemanly fellow named Bayard of Georgia, whose father was, I believe, in the Confederate Congress from that State. After bucking me and permitting me to choose Asa for my middle name he dubbed me “mouse” and stated to me that if any one attempted to give me any trouble to let him know. No trouble was there though for me, it was one constant stretch of delightful experiences. The association with older boys and men who treated me not simply as an equal but from my youth and boyishness showed me every favor rendered my life one of joyous ease. I was informed by the cadet whose name immediately preceded mine in roll call of my company that any time I wanted to get off to let him know and he would answer twice, once for himself, once for me. I was introduced by a friendly cadet to the apothecary’s assistant who turned an honest dollar in selling surreptitiously to the boys ginger cakes and pies at a thousand per cent profit. I was recommended to old “Judge”, the negro head cook and steward, who, black as coal, was with the boys the most popular person in the corps, but for his favors which usually comprised an extra allowance of bread, expected a suitable remembrance. A room I have here described could furnish no more than living quarters for the number occupying it, and how any studying could be done at night by two dull tallow candles, the only lights was inexplicable. Toilets were performed in a general wash room, adjoining a larger room where all trunks were kept and these two rooms were on the same stoop or porch and a little apart from the living rooms that all adjoined. If meagre fare contributed to good health, the boys were entitled to the extraordinary health they possessed with such surroundings. A typical breakfast was “growley”, bread and Confederate coffee. Sometimes sorghum molasses took the place of “growley.” This latter dish was quite watery, being a hash of beef, potatoes and onions. A typical dinner was boiled Irish potatoes, boiled corned beef and bread. Meals were served in the large dining room in the basement at plain pine tables with no covering, each table seating about one dozen. At the head of the table stood the large dish of growley or the corn-beef and at each cadet’s plate was his half loaf of bread. It required practice and expertness to slide one’s tin plate over the table, to the “growley” dish for a helping and some art to secure at long distance the favorable disposition of the cadet sitting at the head to whom fell the delightful emolument of apportioning the “growley.” The half loaf of bread was where old “Judge” came in, for you always felt as if you wanted more. Each cadet was furnished his own two pronged fork and a good large table knife, both of the rough bone handled variety, colored a dark brown. This fare with undue discipline would have been unbearable but with the free and independent life led there it was only a pleasing passing incident in the daily routine of cadet life constantly filled with ever recurring incidents to surprise, interest and exhilarate and no grumbling ever took place, only high spirits and the fullest animal enjoyment in the flush of health.

A bell rang for classes or lectures and the class rooms were a wonder. The classes were so large that many would have to stand up grouped together, usually near the door. Before the lecture was finished the groups would be greatly thinned out, for from time to time while the professor was absorbed in his work or inspecting the black boards the door would softly open and out would slip some member of the group who would softly close the door and walk past the windows of the class room as naturally as if he were on a mission, the only evidence of irregularity being the exceedingly expert quick way with which he vanished through the door. Another result of the large classes was the effort to test the students by requiring several to recite at once, as one at a time would never have reached around. This was supposed to be accomplished by means of the blackboard, at each of the five or six boards was stationed one cadet and the same test was furnished to all at once. Out of the entire number at work usually at least one knew his task well. The others made a show of great industry and with much waste of chalk and many changes and corrections and with a sharp eye on his neighbor’s work he managed to construct a passable performance. The last exhibit I saw in the geography class was a curiously drawn map in chalk outlining South America. It was not difficult to identify the copies of various grades and conditions, nor the original from which made. I suppose the professor was charitable in not holding his students to a too strict accountability. I wonder indeed how they could do any studying with such conditions or surroundings, instead of showing the general faithfulness that they did to their work.

As I have stated a fight was a very formal affair; while usually originating in quite an unmentionable way it was arranged to take place with a full regard to the proprieties. One of the sixteen men in my room was a jew named Lovenstein from Richmond. He was a new cadet like myself and was therefore liable to have trouble. He had declined to submit to some indignity required of him by an older cadet and he was thereupon challenged to fight. This latter he had no way of escaping. It was passed around during the day that there was to be a fight in so and so’s room that night, I got there in company with the men from our room about half after eight o’clock, the hour these affairs usually occurred. The room was packed to suffocation, standing around an improvised ring. The air was filled with tobacco smoke but there was absolutely no talking or noise. In the ring in the center of the room the two fighters were facing each other. My sympathies were with the jew because he came from our room. A jew in the South or in Richmond who comported himself as a gentleman was received as such, the commercialism that attached to the race elsewhere did not at that date affect his status as a gentleman in the South. Lovenstein stood up manfully to his task, with the creditable result that secured for him the regard of the other inmates of our room and it soon became understood that he was to be protected thereafter and that no further trouble was to be put up for him.

The gala performance of the day was at dress parade. This occurred at five in the afternoon. The large plaza fronting the full width of the Alms House furnished a fine parade ground. Colonel Shipp, a portly, dignified impressive man who at the time of my present writing is still at the Institution now as Superintendent was then the Commandant, his adjutant was a little man named Woodbridge and these two with the well drilled corps as a whole furnished the three striking incidents of the parade. The awkward squads consisting of new cadets were put through simple evolutions at the same hour off from the parade ground at each end of the building. Visitors in large numbers assembled to watch each drill of the corps. At the close, the cadets were at liberty to stroll off in the neighborhood for an hour recreation, and that was liberally availed of. Soldierly dignity was not invariably preserved in these strolls. Pent up youthful vitality freed from restraint showed itself in rough play and upon one occasion an older companion of mine in the exuberance of his spirits lifted me to his shoulders and completed his walk bearing me with him in this position until his return to the restraining formalities of the Institute grounds. One’s introduction to the Institute was in strict military discipline; the details of name, age, residence and the taking of the oath of allegiance to the State and to the Confederacy were followed by a written requisition for a blanket, mattress, knife and fork, etc., and an assignment to a room and company. Mine was B Company. A sedate and dignified looking cadet named Ross was captain, a good, old fashioned, friendly fellow named Royston was orderly sergeant. My introduction to the corporal of my room was through an army officer, Captain Shriver, who had recently graduated and who accompanied me and my father on my entrance into the Institute.

General Smith, the Superintendent, was only seen by the cadets in his private office at the far end of the building. The only visit I made to him was quite an event in my life. Usually visits to the Superintendent were quite serious affairs, furnishing checks to exuberant spirits, often grave in consequences. Therefore a notification that your presence was desired by the Superintendent was calculated to set the heart going more rapidly and to stir the memory for some breach that must have been discovered. The summons to me one day just as I was about to attend my French lecture was as unattractive as attending the lecture. But when I reached the Superintendent’s room I found there three Confederate soldiers constituents of my father’s and friends of my family who had come out to see me and had secured permission for me to accompany them back to Richmond to spend the day. An event of the day was the taking of a photograph in a group, this with a good supply of peanuts and a visit to the theatre furnished quite a full day for us four, three seedy and friendly Confederate soldiers and a youthful cadet just fourteen years old. Their request to Genl. Smith to allow me to accompany them on their lark had evidently appeared so unique that I was struck with the degree of pleasure it seemed to afford him and my soldier friends.

The meagre fare made me yearn greatly to participate of the food that I knew was being enjoyed at my home and I was not slow in availing myself of any temporary leave I could obtain. One of these occasions took place just shortly before the evacuation of Richmond and upon my return to the Institute I was greeted by an almost empty building. I found the Corps had been called out the night before to go to the front, leaving me as a younger cadet with a number of others as a detail to guard the Institute. For the short time we were in charge, there was of course no lectures and little discipline, each one could go and come as he chose, with the result that my visits to my home board were more interesting and in my saunters along the streets I began to notice on the Saturday prior to the evacuation premonitions of coming trouble. Great activity was suddenly manifested through the various Confederate Government departments. The Cadets at the Institute were extended permission to remove their trunks. This was availed of on Saturday and also on Sunday until the Institute was practically abandoned by every one there, but was filled with the furniture and the trunks of all the absent cadets, except of those few who had friends to take charge of them. Besides my own trunk I was able to care for that of another room mate and sent it to him by express to his home some weeks later.

On Sunday morning the 2d of April, 1865, it was apparent to anyone that the City was to be abandoned by the Confederate troops. Great piles of official documents and papers of all sorts were brought out from the departments, piled up in the centre of the streets in separate piles at short distances apart and then set on fire to be destroyed, some few burned entirely, others only smouldered and others again failed to burn at all. The result seemed to depend on the quality of the paper and the density of the bundles. From one pile I took out a roll of Confederate bonds with all coupons attached and from another pile a bundle of official papers of various sorts. On Monday morning the 3d of April, I saw going up Marshall street about daylight two Confederate cavalrymen on foot who were the very last of the Confederate soldiers to leave Richmond. On the same morning about eleven o’clock I saw the first Union soldier to enter Richmond. He was also a cavalryman, riding up Broad street and was near Tenth street when I saw him and was surrounded and followed by a howling, frantic mob of about five hundred negro boys, there being no other person except myself that I could see on the street in the vicinity. Between these two periods, the going of the last Confederates and the coming of the first Union soldier, stirring scenes were being elsewhere enacted. I had first gone out to the Institute to see how matters stood there and I found it was in possession of a horde of men, women and children from all the neighborhood around, who had broken open the building and were carrying away everything movable, furniture, cadets’ trunks, books, guns and swords. Indeed, their vandalism spared nothing. I went to my room and was able to secure my blankets and my knife and fork and my books. It was intensely distressing to observe the property of the cadets who were off in the discharge of their duty, boldly appropriated and carried off before my eyes by these multitudinous freebooters who preyed upon it as if it was so much public spoils free to all who chose to help themselves. I tarried there a very short while, carrying away with me what I had been able to save of my own to my home. In leaving I noticed that the brick arsenal across the road from the Institute had been, during the night, blown up with such force that the fresh dirt in two graves alongside had been blown out. They were the graves of two negroes who shortly before had been hung on the hill to the east of the Institute, having been found guilty of burglarously entering the cellar of the Rev. Dr. Moses D. Hoge, the Presbyterian minister in Richmond, out of which they had stolen a couple of hams. After reaching my home, I went down to the Spotswood Hotel at the corner of 8th and Main streets just on the edge of where the fire was raging. Why the Confederate troops had set fire, as was reported of them in their evacuation of Richmond, I could not understand. The fire was most disastrous in extent and in the character of the buildings. It was in the business section; and the post office, a granite building on Main street between 9th and 10th in which was President Davis’ office was the only building left standing within a wide radius. Scenes similar to what I had seen enacted at the Military Institute were also taking place on the edge of the fire district. Stores were being broken into and looted by women, men and boys. Barrels of flour were being rolled away, bolts of cloth, boxes filled with all sorts of commodities, groceries, tobacco, etc. In the midst of this carnival of plunder a lot of women, a half dozen in number, had concentrated their attention on a particular bolt of unbleached coarse cotton cloth and in the contest for it had unwound it, each one pulling her way. Others around were carrying away equally valuable goods ad libitum, but these viragos ignored the ample opportunities elsewhere, concentrating their energies on their fight for this particular cloth. The temptation to myself and to another boy of my age with me was so strong to incommode them in their senseless conduct that we took small bags of tobacco from two barrels in front of a store under the Spotswood Hotel and pelted them with the tobacco. While thus engaged the fire gradually crept around in the rear of Main street towards Franklin and had reached an arsenal on 8th street for making bomb shells. Soon the shells began to burst and pieces flew in our direction, breaking windows and scattering the crowd, including the fighting women, who got away with no plunder from that immediate locality.

We had spent the summer of 1863 on the James river about twelve miles above Richmond and a visit I subsequently paid there gave me an opportunity of enjoying an experience that can never be repeated, namely getting out of Richmond on a Confederate pass and witnessing some of the incidents of an historical raid. My father had formed a personal friendship with the family of General Winder, who was from Baltimore, and as all passes had to be obtained from General Winder, who was in command of Richmond and it was difficult to obtain access to him at his office on Main street, I went to his house and got a pass from his son who was his aide. With this, I boarded the canal boat on the James River and Kanawha Canal, which boat left every evening at the foot of 7th street for its trip up the canal. These boats were fitted to take a long trip, uncomfortable though it might be. It was pulled by three horses going at a rapid trot, the front one ridden by the driver who blew a horn for the locks and the mail and to change horses. The efforts of the drivers on freight boats on these horns were often artistic and as musical as an accomplished bugler. Nothing of that sort was ever attempted by the boy who rode the horses on the passenger boat. The passengers in good weather sat on camp stools on the top of the boat and a man at the end steered, at frequent intervals calling out “low bridge” at which all on deck ducked their heads to avoid the low bridges which so frequently crossed the canal from one portion of a farm to another. The kitchen was at the end of the boat. In the long saloon on each side was a seat running the whole length, which was converted into beds at night. In the centre of the saloon was a long table upon which meals were served. Just after leaving Richmond the sentry came around to inspect the passes and verify the descriptions they contained of their possessors. He usually completed his rounds seven or eight miles out about the time the canal boat reached the “grave yard,” an open space extending out from the canal and covered by water in which were sunk worn out canal boats.

When ready to return to Richmond I was to do so by the Plank Road, but the instant we struck this road we found it blocked by heavy trees that had been cut down and thrown across the road so as to render it impassable for horse or man. We quickly learned that this was to intercept Dahlgren’s raiders who were then some distance up the river and were supposed to be approaching by the Plank Road. All the neighborhood had sent their horses out into the woods in the custody of the most faithful of the negroes to prevent their seizure by the raiders, and silverware and other articles portable had been concealed so that preparations were fully made for the arrival of Dahlgren’s troops. This occurred the next day. They had crossed the river at a ford a short distance above under the guidance of a negro of the neighborhood who had essayed to pilot them to Richmond and when they reached these obstructions on the Plank Road they were compelled to deflect their course so that they were carried around Richmond instead of into it, and here at this point where they left the Plank road occurred an incident that I could not understand then and do not clearly understand now. They hung their negro guide. They left his body hanging and after it was taken down by residents, the rope was cut into small pieces and passed around as mementoes. I feel assured that Dahlgren’s men could not impute to the negro knowledge of the obstructions in the road. The circumstances enforced this conclusion. The obstructions had just been placed; their appearance made this self evident. As a matter of fact they had been put there during the night by parties sent from Richmond and were entirely unknown to persons in the vicinity. The negro guide had been picked up miles above at a time when it was patent to any one he could not have known of these obstructions. The slightest acquaintance with negro character during the war should moreover have informed the raiders that no negro would have volunteered to pilot Federal troops with the intent of leading them into trouble, or of not performing for them all he was capable of, and I can only conclude that he was a victim of combined ignorance of the negro and irritation at being intercepted in their progress. If they had reached nearer to Richmond they would have found almost every white citizen in the City, whatever his station or occupation, armed and in the trenches around the city awaiting their arrival, so that getting into the City was practically impossible.

The Confederate hospitals in Richmond were possibly the most interesting places for most persons. The officers’ hospital was at Richmond College at that time in the country about a mile from the built up city. Since then the City has built out to and beyond it. The Seabrook Hospital, occupied exclusively by privates, was a collection of one story long frame buildings in the neighborhood of 23d street and Franklin Street. The surgeon in chief was Dr. Gravett with whose family we were intimate and a feature of this hospital was the delightful biscuits made there by the cook. The Chimborazo Hospital was another famous one. Between this hospital and a point on the open ground across from President Davis’ residence the signal corps men every night exchanged signals in practicing, a group of men being stationed on the hill near the hospital with their torch and another group with a torch on the other side of the valley in the space next the President’s house. The President’s house, now the Confederate Museum, was one of the prettiest houses in Richmond. The president met with a sad loss there in the death of his son. At the time this occurred some one started a subscription among the children to erect a monument to the memory of the child and the names of all who subscribed were written on paper, it being also there written that the monument was a gift from the playmates of the boy and the paper was placed in the monument erected over the grave at Hollywood. My name was included, but I am sure that scarcely one in the entire number was in fact a playmate of the boy who was so delicate that his only companion was his nurse.

The most interesting sights were the fortifications around Richmond. Out on the Mechanicsville turnpike about two miles beyond the Alms House was the inner fort on the North. This was manned by a battery composed of Norfolk men under command of a Captain Hendren, two deserters from the Union Army were placed in this battery. They were treated in a most friendly way by the men, but they seemed out of place themselves and awkward and strange. Why they should have deserted I could not understand, for an exchange of the ample fare of the Union soldier with their luxuries for the cornbread and bacon of the Confederates could not have been an attraction. This same pike while the Battle of Cold Harbor was in progress presented an intensely interesting appearance, clear from Richmond to the narrow Chickahomini River and beyond, it was lined with soldiers, horses and wagons hurrying to and fro and one of the most attractive sights was the stream of Union prisoners just captured and being marched into Richmond. One prisoner I recall as a common type, he was a German emigrant utterly unable to speak a word of English, dressed in a new Zouave uniform of gaudy colors and he evidently labored under the delusion that he was going to better his condition by exchanging from a fighter in the Union army to a prisoner in the Confederacy. I believe if he had had any conception of the restrictive diet of the prisoner or Confederate soldier, for both fared about alike, he would have been less easily captured, and the bounty and substitute money that no doubt had been securely disposed of by him at his enlistment were going to look less alluring in a Confederate prison than the future these pictured to him while he enjoyed his exceedingly brief army experience.

The most interesting fortifications were on the James River at Drury’s Bluff about seven miles below Richmond, and a sort of an excursion steamer enabled visitors to inspect the fortifications. In the neighborhood of Drury’s Bluff further down the River was the Howlett House, historical for being at various periods first in the Confederate lines and then in the Union. Upon a visit I paid to it in Company with Col. Herbert of the 17th Virginia Regiment and the Rev. Mr. Perkins, the Chaplain, we obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding country and of both armies, our own and the Union. Dutch Gap was in the distance and Butlers Tower was in front of us and down on the river shore below us were thousands of shells that had been fired by the Union batteries and had failed to explode. In returning from the Howlett House to the station of the 17th Virginia, sharpshooters in the Union lines began firing at us and the bullets threw up the dirt around us in a lively fashion. I feel convinced the sharpshooters were trying to see how near they could come to us without hitting us, my companions however preferred to get down below the raise in the ground. The same spirit of play I think must have actuated the batteries that were continually firing shells that went clear over the fortifications and way behind, possibly a mile or so. The fortifications were constructed in a very formidable way. The front of the raised earth was a labyrinth of brush and sharpened stakes pointing outward. Inside of the fortifications were deep ravines cut in the earth, turning and twisting with pillars of earth at intervals, so as to permit the sentries to approach the breastworks without exposure. The quarters of the soldiers were usually dugouts, covered with raised wooden tops. The sleeping bunks were below the ground and each location had a fire place. One of my nights was spent in one of these with a corporal of one of the companies of the 17th Virginia. His room mate was absent. Before entering he handed me a copy of David Copperfield and this was my first introduction to the delights of Dickens’ works. The corporal also offered me a flour biscuit, the only one he had; as I knew the meaning of it to him I declined. During the night we were aroused by a night attack at the front a few hundred yards away, which compelled my room mate to go there. I had never heard so many bullets whistle over head before and the sound was more intense from the stillness of the night, the attack, however, was of short duration.

The most interesting scene in camp life was the church service on Sunday night. The soldiers were in winter quarters and a good sized frame tabernacle had been erected with seats around on boards very much like a circus. The auditorium was crowded, of course exclusively with soldiers and a more impressive service and a more deeply interested and serious set of men I never saw. The two opposing lines, Confederate and Union, had been so long fixed at this point and they were respectively so securely intrenched that matters looked quite permanent and these conditions led to interchange of friendly relations between the two sides leading to exchange of newspapers, tobacco, etc. The slenderness of the Confederate soldier’s equipment was constantly in evidence and the contrast with his bounteously supplied enemy made his situation often pathetic. Upon one occasion during this visit of mine to the 17th Virginia the quartermaster’s wagon came around to dole out a few articles and among the things given was a cotton shirt to a middle aged member of a Norfolk Company which excited the jealousy and anger of a young man in the same company who declared that the older was not entitled to the shirt and did not need it and that he had money hidden away. The scarcity of food in Richmond several times led to distressing scenes, resulting in some instances to public riots, in which women seemed to take the leading part. Their outcry for bread gave to these affairs the designation of “bread riots” and several of a very serious nature took place during the closing years of the war resulting in considerable destruction of property in an effort on the part of the mob to break into stores and resulting also in great suffering and excitement before the disturbances were quelled.

It was an experience not possessed by many to have seen from time to time pass through Richmond the Confederate soldiers that composed the entire army of General Lee. Added to this however it was my fortune after the war to see the entire armies of General Grant and General Sherman pass through Richmond on their march to Washington. They all passed one point where I was stationed, namely, at Broad and First streets on their way up Broad street and out the Brook Turnpike. There were three features that were prominent in connection with these Union armies, one was the well dressed, well kept appearance of the soldiers, another the vast number of their bands of music in marked contrast with scarcely any in our army and another the great number of horses the cavalrymen possessed, some had three and four horses each, and I concluded that the South through which the Union armies passed, must have been pretty well denuded of its horses.

After the war the President’s house was used as head quarters for the general in command of the Union troops in Richmond. And as my father was the only Homeopathic physician in Richmond and very many Federal officers with their families preferred homeopathy and employed him I had favorable opportunities for knowing certain things about which some confusion subsequently existed. This knowledge enabled me to correct a statement some years since that was circulated extensively through the public press with reference to General Lee. It had been declared by General Adam Badeau that immediately upon the close of the war when General Lee returned to Richmond he and his family were the recipients of aid from General Grant who practically provided for the support of General Lee’s family. I knew all the circumstances which gave a plausible foundation for this story. My father, as I have stated, was Mrs. Lee’s physician; he was also the physician among other Federal officers of General Peter Michie, the Federal quartermaster general. An offer courteously and with delicacy was made to General Lee of any aid the temporary situation of his family might require. General Lee however was under no necessity of availing himself of this aid and none in consequence was given. General Lee had devoted friends, able and willing to render any aid that might have been needed to whom he would naturally have looked for aid had such been required. He was at that time, as I have stated, living in the house of Mr. John Stewart, a wealthy Scotchman who had settled long before the war in Richmond. Whatever may have been the arrangement for rent I understand that Mr. Stewart declined to accept anything in settlement, and as a Scotchman can not be made to recede from his position no doubt no rent was paid.

One of the incidents to the rehabilitation of Richmond after the evacuation and the accompanying disastrous fire was the great influx of mercantile firms from the North with every kind of goods imaginable. Why they should have rushed in thus with their oceans of merchandise to sell to impoverished Confederates was to me a mystery. As might be imagined prices fell very low and large numbers of the new comers failed completely. Another incident of the new order of things was the flooding of the City with counterfeit money, particularly small notes for fractional amounts of a dollar, some of the counterfeits being wretched productions. Another feature was the way in which architects and builders from the North stepped in to help rebuild the burned district, resulting in better buildings than before, but with in many cases no commensurate profit to the builders. At that time was first introduced into Richmond the ground rent system that prevails so extensively in Baltimore and Philadelphia. The first house under this system was built on a lot where had stood the house from which salt orders had been issued during the war. The salt mines belonged to and were worked by the State and a system of free distribution was inaugurated in consequence of the scarcity and the necessity of salt so that each householder depending upon the size of his family was entitled to receive gratuitously a certain quantity weekly for which an order was issued to him.

The most gruesome sight during the war was to see the vast numbers of wounded Confederate soldiers brought into Richmond in the trains. This was constantly occurring and was most noticeable during the great battles in the neighborhood of Fredericksburg. The attention given to the wounded appeared to be scant before reaching Richmond. And they were brought down on the Richmond and Fredericksburg Railroad and unloaded on Broad street to be taken to the hospitals very much as they were taken from the field of battle. How they were able to pass through the suffering they must have endured before reaching the hospital was a miracle, only to be accounted for by the life of exposure to the open air, endurance and their strong vitality.

Blockade running was carried on as an extensive business all through the war, but reached its highest state of accomplishment in the closing year before the fall of Richmond. It was of a two fold character; one, of ships with Wilmington, North Carolina, as the port and the other of individuals who crossed the Potomac at night usually landing at Leonardtown, Charles County, Maryland. The ships took out cargoes of cotton, as this was about the only article, unless it was tobacco, left to be exported from the Southern Confederacy and they brought in return a miscellaneous cargo, not very extensive and not very large, most of the cotton shipments winding up as credits abroad in many cases for agents of the Confederate government, in other cases for individuals, either singly or as syndicates. For it became common in Richmond for a number of gentlemen to form a combination and make a shipment of cotton by a blockade runner for the profit it furnished. Almost all the ships that ran the blockade in and out of Wilmington flew the British flag and were English boats. Blockade running on the Potomac was another consideration. Its ordeal can best be illustrated by an attempt made by my mother and a friend of hers under unusual favorable circumstances. The trip from Richmond to the Potomac had to be made by private conveyance of some sort for there were no public vehicles or way of getting them and for entertainment en route reliance would have to be placed on such friendly housing and entertainment as could be secured from the inhabitants of the country through which one passed. There were no hotels or taverns, and as the inhabitants were not over well supplied, were in constant apprehension of the questionable strangers who made a business of blockade running, it can be conceived what difficulties must be encountered by any one who adopted this method of passing through the lines. It would have been easier perhaps to have gone by a flag of truce. A well known Southerner who is now in a prominent position in New York City had attention attracted to him by two occurrences that took place in his younger days. He was a general in the Confederate army and he resigned and joined the army as a private, that was quite sensational. Again he went out one day in front of the outer line of breastworks near Petersburg to exchange newspapers or some other thing as was the custom during the interims of fighting and two soldiers from the Union lines came out half way to meet him. When they reached midway between the breastworks on each side each Union soldier took him by the arms and marched him into their own lines. That was more sensational still and was susceptible of several constructions. The incident subjected him to undoubtedly unjust criticism and the true construction was that the Union soldiers had violated the conventional arrangement under which the belligerents exchanged small articles, but it indicated that the Union side were not averse to “receiving” all that came and that going by flag of truce would have been less difficult on the Union side than on the Confederate and that persons on a peaceful mission, particularly ladies need not have selected the hardships of a Potomac blockade running to have gotten through the lines.

My two sisters had been left North to attend school on my father’s exchange as a state prisoner and my mother’s mission was to visit them. My father’s official and professional relations secured for the trip from the Confederate government a covered ambulance, two mules and a colored driver. They were also supplied by personal friends with letters of introduction to persons at whose houses they expected to stop on the route to the Potomac. The trip was to occupy about three days and the point of destination was as usual opposite Leonardtown, Charles County, Maryland. The first day was spent in a tiring, uninteresting ride over bad roads and the day’s journey terminated at the hospitable house of Muscoe Garnett near Newton in King and Queen County at whose house I subsequently spent a delightful summer, the next day’s journey similar in character terminated at the equally hospitable home of the Warings on the Rappahannock River in Essex County, where I also some years after visited. The third day’s journey, just like the two proceeding, brought them to the Potomac in Westmoreland County at the Wirt House. The following day arrangements were made for effecting a crossing of the river and this was termed “running the blockade.” Success required the trip to be at night, without moon or stars, with good weather and smooth water, a rather difficult combination where the river was several miles wide and Union patrol boats constantly on the lookout for blockade runners. At the appointed time, with conditions satisfactory, their boat cleared the shore, when suddenly the moon came out, a patrol boat was made out in the distance and the sail boat was compelled in consequence to return, with no further chance of success that night. After several days of waiting and constant unwillingness on the part of the boatman to make the venture, in which at every attempt, he ran the risk of losing both his boat and his liberty, they were fain to abandon the attempt, this being a common experience in blockade running. And they were compelled to return again to Richmond. Successful blockade running across the Potomac was usually done by two only, the boatman and one passenger, usually a man, a woman blockade runner added to the difficulties and lessened a successful issue. Two women would constitute almost insuperable difficulties and it had better been left unattempted. It was easier to go by ship from Wilmington to Nassau, the usual rendezvous of blockade runners and then from that point by a ship to New York; for blockade running in and out of Wilmington was common and easy.

While personal travel through the lines was as shown difficult and full of excitement and trials, communication by letter was easy and frequent. This was by way of flag of truce boat. Every letter however was opened, read and stamped as inspected and if it was free from suspicion and about personal matter only it reached its destination. Any suspicious circumstances however such as ambiguity of expression, or anything of hidden meaning which might convey information regarded as detrimental to the government subjected the letter to oblivion.

After the war closed the condition of the Confederate graves in Hollywood cemetery was so deplorable that a general call was extended to all ex-Confederate soldiers in Richmond to volunteer to put them in condition. At the time appointed great numbers assembled at the Cemetery for the purpose, including very many old cadets. Each particular division of the graves had a certain number assigned to it and there fell to the cadets a plot in the lower ground comprising several hundred graves. Each one of the cadets was furnished a hoe and the task that at once confronted us was how we were to distinguish the precise location of each grave. None of these graves were marked and all any of us knew was that wherever there was any indication of the grave, there had been placed the remains of a Confederate soldier. It seems to me that however loving our motive, we had better left undone our volunteer task, for all the workers in common solved their difficulty in identifying exact outlines of graves by raising at regular and even intervals the little mounds that were supposed to cover the places of interment, so that if any indications previously existed as to the precise location of any grave whereby some one familiar with the surroundings would have identified it, these were effectually destroyed by this service in putting in decent order the burial places of the dead. And it was utterly impossible thereafter to tell the exact resting place of any whose grave was unmarked, the condition of very nearly all.

One of the most disastrous results of the war was the effect on the education of the men of the South. With few exceptions all the young men at college or school old enough to volunteer did so, with the resulting loss of four years of the best period of their life for studying. At the close of the war, the necessities of some were such that providing for themselves or their families effectually removed from them the possibilities of further education. Others again struggled under most adverse conditions and with many privations to acquire the requisite means to complete their education, working on farms and engaging in manual labor that always theretofore had been relegated exclusively to the negro slaves. In many cases the period for accomplishing the result dragged on for years after the close of the war and even as late as 1871, six years after the close of the war there was in the same law class with me at the University of Virginia, a number of ex-Confederate soldiers and among the nineteen of us who received the degree of B. L. were two, one of whom had been a Captain and the other a Major in the Confederate army.

The condition of the ex-Confederates residing in the country was measurably better than those in the cities and towns, for the former could at the least scrape together in one way or another some sort of a living. In the towns and cities however through the South the struggle to obtain a footing was more intense, and among the methods adopted to furnish employment to ex-Confederates was one of almost national character involving what was then regarded as a very large capital with prospects supposed to be brilliant both in furnishing extensive employment for competent men and securing great financial returns for its promoters and subscribers, and that was the establishment of the Southern Express Company. General Joseph E. Johnson was made president of the company and almost every officer and employee from the highest to the lowest was an ex-Confederate soldier. These two pleas, employment of ex-Confederates and great financial returns, particularly the former were the basis upon which the subscriptions to the stock were generally secured. An additional incentive was that only a small cash payment (usually ten per cent of the subscription) was required from the stockholders. The balance it was supposed would likely be made up from profits. From the start liberal salaries were paid and assiduously drawn. Nearly all the transportation business was done on credit, the railroads and transportation companies being exceedingly liberal in this, with the rapid result from inexperience in such business and competition against an old established company and its skilled employees, that the Southern Express Company soon ceased to do business, owing a vast amount of debts to its employees for unpaid salaries and to transportation companies for unpaid freight. The sequel resulted in an assignment by the company for the benefit of creditors and an administration of its assets in the Chancery Court of Richmond, where the stockholders were assessed their unpaid subscriptions, resulting in a crop of suits to collect them that extended through many states of the Union, particularly Virginia, Maryland, Missouri and New York.

The war had a very slight effect on the negro’s character as a slave in the South, so far as he was capable of comprehending and entertaining any sympathies, most of the slaves had a vague idea that success to the Union Army meant freedom for the slave and hence naturally they felt no ill toward this result, neither did they entertain ill will towards those who had held them in slavery, for contrary to the general impression of the North the negro slaves were treated with the greatest consideration, not harshly, but just the reverse. Any master who omitted to properly clothe and feed his slaves, to assiduously care for them in sickness and old age and to treat them justly and humanely was not only ostracised by his neighbors and acquaintances but his family suffered seriously in social position so that no slaveholder was to be found who could weather the trials to which an acknowledged brutal master was subjected. This tenderness for the slave was so pronounced that all persons who occupied a dominant position with reference to him, such as the overseer or slave dealer were regarded as occupying an inferior position and were excluded from social relations with the slave holders, not from an imagined superiority of the latter, as sometimes alleged, but purely from the “offensiveness” of their occupation. And I believe it can be said with the endorsement of all who knew that the negro as a whole was better cared for, and healthier and happier in slavery than in freedom.

The hotels in Richmond that remained in operation clear up until the evacuation by the Confederate troops were the Spotswood at the corner of Main street and 8th street, the American on Main street opposite the Post Office, and the Powhatan at the corner of Broad and 11th streets. The Spottswood was the leading hotel and there the higher Confederate officers stopped when in Richmond. It was burned shortly after the war closed. The American was a popular hotel, well patronized by Confederate soldiers, officers and men, and always crowded. It was burned in the fire at the evacuation. The Powhatan was patronized to a certain extent by Confederate soldiers, the generality of its patrons were members of the Legislature.