Night found the survivors at the gate of a quite handsome, framed, country residence. The weather was threatening, and it was desirable to have shelter as well as rest. Entering, and knocking at the door, they were met by a servant girl. She was sent to her mistress with a request for permission to sleep on her premises. The servant returned, saying, "Mistis say she's a widder, and there ain't no gentleman in the house, and she can't let you come in." She was sent with a second message, which informed the lady that the visitors were from Richmond, members of a certain company from there, and would be content to sleep on the porch, in the stable, or in the barn. They would protect her property, etc., etc., etc.
This brought the lady of the house to the door. She said, "If you are members of the —— ——, you must know my nephew; he was in that company." Of course they knew him. "Old chum," "Comrade," "Particular friend," "Splendid fellow," "Hope he was well when you heard from him. Glad to meet you, madam!" These and similar hearty expressions brought the longed for "Come in, gentlemen; you are welcome. I will see that supper is prepared for you at once." (Invitation accepted.)
The old haversacks were deposited in a corner under the steps, and their owners conducted down-stairs to a spacious dining-room, quite prettily furnished. A large table occupied the centre of the room, and at one side there was a handsome display of silver in a glass-front case. A good big fire lighted the room. The lady sat quietly working at some woman's work, and from time to time questioning, in a rather suspicious manner, her guests. Their correct answers satisfied her, and their respectful manner reassured her, so that by the time supper was brought in she was chatting and laughing with her "defenders."
The supper came in steaming hot. It was abundant, well prepared, and served elegantly. Splendid coffee, hot biscuit, luscious butter, fried ham, eggs, fresh milk! The writer could not expect to be believed if he should tell the quantity eaten at that meal. The good lady of the house enjoyed the sight. She relished every mouthful, and no doubt realized then and there the blessing which is conferred on hospitality, and the truth of that saying of old: "It is more blessed to give than to receive."
The wayfarers were finally shown to a neat little chamber. The bed was soft and glistening white. Too white and clean to be soiled by the occupancy of two Confederate soldiers who had not had a change of underclothing for many weeks. They looked at it, felt of it, spread their old blankets on the neat carpet, and slept there till near the break of day.
While it was yet dark the travelers, unwilling to lose time waiting for breakfast, crept out of the house, leaving their thanks for their kind hostess, and pressed rapidly on to Manikin Town, on the James River and Kanawha Canal, half a day's march from Richmond, where they arrived while it was yet early morning. The green sward between the canal and river was inviting, and the survivors laid there awhile to rest and determine whether or not they would push on to the city. They decided to do so as soon as they could find a breakfast to fit them for the day's march.
A short walk placed them at the yard gate of a house prominent by reason of its size and finish. Everything indicated comfort, plenty, and freedom from the ravages of war. The proprietor, a well-fed, hearty man, of not more than forty-two or three, who, as a soldier could tell at a glance, had never seen a day's service, stood behind the tall gate, and, without a motion towards opening it, replied to the cheery "Good morning, sir," of the soldiers with a sullen "morn; what do you want here?" "We are from Richmond, sir, members of the ————. We are on our way home from Appomattox, where the army was surrendered, and called to ask if you could spare us something to eat before we start on the day's march." "Oh, yes! I know about the surrender, I do. Some scoundrels were here last night and stole my best mare, d—- 'em! No, I don't want any more of such cattle here," replied the patriot. (A large reward for his name.) The foragers, having worked for a meal before and being less sensitive than "penniless gentlemen" sometimes are, replied, "We are not horse-thieves or beggars. If you do not feel that it would be a pleasure and a privilege to feed us, don't do it. We don't propose to press the matter."
At last he said, "Come in, then; I'll see what I can do." The seekers after food accepted the ungracious invitation, followed the dog through his yard and into his house, and took seats at his table. At a signal from the master a servant went out. The host followed, and, it is supposed, instructed her. The host returned, and was soon followed by the servant bearing two plates, which were placed before the survivors. Alas! that they should "survive" to see that the plates contained the heads, tails, fins, and vertebræ of the fish, fresh from the river, which the family of this hero and sufferer from the evils of war had devoured at their early, and, no doubt, cozy breakfast.
Survivor No. 1 looked at Survivor No. 2, Survivor No. 2 looked at Survivor No. 1, and simultaneously they rose to their feet, glanced at the "host," and strode to and out of the door. The "host" followed, amazed. "What's the matter, gentlemen? You did not eat." The "poor soldiers" replied: "No, we didn't eat; we are not dogs. Permit us to say we are satisfied it would be an injustice to the canine race to call you one. You deserve to lose another mare. You are meaner than any epithets at our command."
The man fairly trembled. His face was pale with rage, but he dared not reply as he would. Recovering himself, and seeing an "odorous" name in the future, he attempted apology and reparation for the insult, and complete reconciliation. "Oh, come in, come in! I'll have something cooked for you. Sorry the mistake occurred. All right, all right, boys; come in," pulling and patting the "boys." But the boys wouldn't "go in." On the contrary, they stayed out persistently, and, before they left that gate, heaped on its owner all the contempt, disdain, and scorn which they could express; flung at him all the derisive epithets which four years in the army places at a man's disposal; pooh poohed at his hypocritical regrets; and shaking off the dust of that place from their feet, pushed on to the city, the smoke of which rose to heaven.