It is needless to attempt to describe the anxiety of the citizens as Hunter approached, heralded by the accounts of his vandalism at Lexington and on his march. Until their nerves were restored by the arrival of Breckinridge's little army of some fifteen hundred men and the guns of Berkeley and W.S. Lurty's battery, every woman and non-combatant was actively engaged in hiding silver, jewels, provisions and other valuables—generally putting them in the very place where skilled looters would be sure to go in search. Many things were put away at that time which have never been found since, and never will be. The anxiety of the hiders so affected their memory that the place of hiding was forgotten.
As soon as hope was restored by the appearance of additional troops, the energies of the women were directed to the effort of giving food to the hungry and travel-worn troops whose arrival had brought them so much comfort. While the cannon were booming over the hills of the suburbs and the fierce rattle of contending musketry could be heard, our women were bending over the fires cooking rations for the men in the lines, or scraping lint and rolling bandages for the wounded. The first ray of hope restored confidence, and the inhabitants of Londondery or Leyden were not more calm or heroic, or more actively engaged in doing all in their power for defence, than were these women and the old men, who were the only other inhabitants of the city left.
The old men, with such weapons as they could procure of every variety of style, were in the trenches across the plateau now known as Rivermont, ready to sacrifice their lives in protecting their loved ones and their homes from the marauding troops which were advancing with a devastating purpose, long since abandoned as unfit for civilized warfare. Thus men and women alike braced themselves for the great struggle, and, though not put to the final test, were calm, collected and brave in the supreme moment when the enemy were thundering at our gates. This fact is one of which the city may well be proud, and should stimulate coming generations to emulate the example of their forefathers.
The Garland-Rodes Camp has induced the preparation of these pages, that the truths of history may be preserved from that oblivion to which human memory consigns all details dependent upon it. It is their duty, indeed it is the duty of every citizen of the whole State and of every part of it, to garner up the facts connected with our heroic struggle and to so preserve them that they shall become the well-established traditions of our people. Such traditions are a part of the wealth of a race. They both elevate and stimulate succeeding generations. By them a high national character is established, and under their influence that species of patriotism is engendered whence springs the glorious sentiment,
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."
The fires of patriotism do not burn most fiercely where the land is most productive, or where wealth most accumulates. Nations which have owned broad savannahs upon which nature has been most lavish have often been driven from their country with little show of manly courage and without that zealous patriotism which creates heroes, while the peasant of Switzerland and the cottager of the Highlands, neither of whom can afford greater luxuries than oatmeal and goat's milk, have held their vales and their fastnesses for centuries against all odds. To them each dell has its story of valiant deeds of their forefathers and each mountain is crowned by traditions which tell of the great achievements of their race. For dells and mountains thus sanctified by the glories of the past, the peasant and the lord of the manor alike are willing to die. It was their love for the stories and romance of their race which sustained the nerve of the Swiss Guards in the discharge of their duty to the King when, without a faltering nerve, one by one they sunk under the blows of the infuriated Jacobins of Paris, and well won the grand inscription to their courage on the Lion of Lucerne. A like love was the foundation of the wonderful heroism of the Highlanders at Lucknow and of the Scotch who climbed the Heights of Abraham at Quebec. So it was their love for the historic memories of Virginia which nerved the courage of that dauntless division which, under a fire never before poured on line of battle, reached the brow of the hill at Gettysburg.
By gathering the traditions of the Highlands and thus perpetuating them, Scott has done a great work for Scotland. Others have done the same thing for England. It is for this generation to gather the same wealth for Virginia. Thus will the history of her people, of her valleys, her rivers and her mountains, be preserved and the facts be secured to generations yet to come which, when mellowed by time, will be perpetuated in story, in poetry and in song.
Thus and thus only can we keep Virginia and her people on the elevated plane upon which they have stood for centuries, and thus can we make her, in the future, the land of poetry and romance. It is Wallace and Tell who are the heroes of the poet and the novelist, not the commanders of the great forces with which they contended. In the far future many a novel, many a poem and many a song will tell of Lee, of Jackson, of Stuart and of Mosby—ideal heroes of romance—long after the names of the leaders who fought them will be mere facts in the prosaic history of the power of the greater to overcome the less.
It is not our duty to weep over the past or to bemoan the fate which resulted in the final overthrow of the Confederacy; nor should we do anything to keep alive the bitterness of that strife. On the contrary, it is our duty to bow to the logic of what has happened and to believe in the wisdom of the all-wise Director of the affairs of nations and of peoples; but it is also our duty to see to it that what is good and great be preserved, and that our children and children's children keep green the traditions which will nerve them to a higher courage and stimulate them to a generous emulation of the deeds of their forefathers.