While we were in the camp a picket came in, whose officer reported having had a skirmish with the enemy, in which the Northerners had been whipped. The way the cavalry outposts engaged with each other was curious enough. The ground they met on did not admit of cavalry charges being made, as thick underwood covered the country for miles round. So, when they were inclined for a brush, they dismounted, tied their horses to trees, and skirmished in very open lines, every man picking out his special enemy. When they had had enough of it, they picked up their killed and wounded, and, mounting their horses, rode away.
After passing four or five hours with our cavalry friends we bade them good-bye, and started (still accompanied by our valuable companion, the young general) on our way to the headquarters of the army, where we were to pass the night. It was well for us that we travelled in such good company, for having to pass all along the outskirts of the Southern army, we were constantly stopped and interrogated by patrols and pickets. Besides which we were sometimes disagreeably near to the outposts of the 'boys in blue,' as Grant's men were called. Having arrived very late in the evening at our destination, we bivouacked under the trees close to the headquarters of the general commanding, who was away at the front, and not expected back till the next evening. The rattle of musketry and the boom of heavy guns all through the night reminded us of our vicinity to the theatre of war, and somewhat disturbed our rest. But if we were a little nervous, we took care not to show it. In the morning we started in our waggons, and, after travelling a few miles across the country, came to the railway that connected the camp with Richmond. A train shortly afterwards picked us up and landed us at the capital of Virginia, where we took up our quarters at a comfortable-looking hotel. There was more to drink and eat here than at Charleston, consequently people had cheerful countenances. Liquor was, however, dear, brandy being sold at twenty-five shillings per bottle, it having to be run through the blockade. Here we found that the people had that wonderful blind confidence in the Southern cause which had mainly supported them through all difficulties.
At this moment, though a line of earthworks hurriedly thrown up in a few hours at Petersburg was nearly all that kept Grant's well-organised army from entering the capital; though the necessaries of war, and even of life, were growing alarmingly short; though the soldiers were badly fed, and only half-clothed or protected from the inclemency of the weather (one blanket being all that was allowed to three men), still every one seemed satisfied that the South would somehow or other gain the day, and become an independent nation.
While in Richmond I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the talented correspondent of the 'Times,' who, although in a position to look on calmly at passing events, was so carried away by his admiration of the wonderful pluck shown by the Southerners, and by the general enthusiasm of the people among whom he lived, that he allowed himself to be buoyed up with the hope that something would eventually turn up in their favour, and in his letters never seemed to despair. Had he done otherwise he would have stood alone, so he swam with the tide; whereas all of us, especially those who were mere lookers-on, should have seen the end coming months before we were obliged to open our eyes to the fact that it was come. Through his acquaintance with the big-wigs, we managed to get a few of them to accept an invitation to a feed, as we could offer luxuries such as could not be found in Richmond.
Some of the first men in the Confederacy honoured us with their company, and made themselves uncommonly agreeable, seeming quite a jolly set of fellows. I fear that they have nearly all come to grief since then, except Mr. Benjamin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who before his death, which occurred several years after the time that I write, made himself a name in England worthy of his high talents and education.
I had the honour, while in Richmond, of being invited to a tea party by Mrs. Davis, the President's wife, which I thought very interesting. The ladies were all dressed in deep mourning; some (the greater part) for the sad reason that they had lost near and dear relatives in the wretched war; the others, I suppose, were in mourning for their country's misfortunes. Mrs. Davis moved about the room saying something civil to every one, while the President, though a stern-looking man who never smiled, tried to make himself agreeable to his guests, and gave one the idea of a thorough gentleman. I saw there military officers who had lately come from the front, surrounded by groups of people anxious for news; delegates from distant seceding States; messengers from Hood's army, about which many were beginning to be anxious; sympathising foreigners, government officials, and many others. The whole of the conversation naturally related to the prospects of the cause, and no one would have guessed from what he heard in President Davis's house that the end was so near.
I was anxious before my return to see something of the army that had so long defended Richmond. So I only remained a few days at the capital, after which I left it and its, alas! too confiding inhabitants, and made my way as best I could to the headquarters of the commander-in-chief. There I presented my letters of introduction to General Lee.
It would perhaps be impertinence on my part to attempt to eulogise the character of this excellent man and good soldier, who, most thoroughly believing in the justice of the Southern cause, had sacrificed everything he possessed in its behalf, and had thrown all his energy and talent into the scale in its favour. Many who knew him well have done and will continue to do justice to his patriotism and self-denial. I had a very long conversation with him, which I wish I could repeat without being guilty of a breach of confidence, as evidence of the sensible notions he had formed of the state of affairs in the South. He was the only man I met during my travels who took a somewhat gloomy view of the military prospects of the country—of which, as a soldier, there could be no better judge.
After spending twenty-four hours in the camp, we went to the railway station to see if we could get places for Wilmington. We found that the line was in the hands of the Southerners, and that although the 'boys in blue' had a vulgar habit of firing into the carriages as they passed, the trains were running each night. But a train running and a non-combatant passenger getting a place in a carriage were widely different things, every available seat being taken up by sick and wounded soldiers. I made a frantic effort to get into the train somehow, and after a severe struggle succeeded in scrambling into a sort of horse-box and sat me down on a long deal box, which seemed rather a comfortable place to sleep on. It was pitch dark when I got into the train, and we were obliged to keep in the dark until we had run the gauntlet of the Northern pickets, who favoured us with a volley or two at a long range from the hills overlooking the railway. When we were clear of them I lighted a match, and to my horror found that I was comfortably lounging on a coffin. I wished I had not thrown a light on the subject, but by degrees, becoming accustomed I suppose to my position, I sank into a comfortable sleep and was really quite sorry when, on arriving at some station just before daylight, people came to remove my peculiar though far from uncomfortable couch. I felt its loss the more, for in its place they put a poor fellow wounded nearly to death, whose moans and cries were, beyond anything, distressing. We were a long time getting to Wilmington, as it was necessary to stop and repair most of the bridges on the line before the train could venture over them, an operation at which all passengers sound in wind and limb had to assist.
On arriving there we found all the world in a state of great excitement, on account of there having been a terrible fire among the cotton lying on the quays ready for embarkation, supposed to have been the work of an incendiary.