Mrs. Andrew White had been zealous in her efforts to secure for me some employment, and to her I was indebted for the clothes which took the place of my Confederate uniform. Through her instrumentality, in October I was engaged by Seldner & Rosenberg, of Petersburg, as book-keeper. I fear that I knew nothing, or next to nothing, about book-keeping. But my employers were not aware of that awkward fact, and I do not think that they discovered it. The pay was $40 a month, and I paid $30 a month for my board. I went to work at half-past six o’clock in the morning, and remained at work until eight o’clock at night. There was not much margin for my personal expenses, and the long hours made the occupation terribly irksome to me, but I had the promise of an advance of pay, and, with that before me, struggled on until November.
In Petersburg one day I saw a Federal officer riding my black horse, which I had sent to Mr. Raines’ to recruit during the previous winter, and which had been captured in the raid there after the cessation of hostilities. I claimed the horse at once, and the first difficulty I encountered was the fact that I was not regarded as a citizen of the United States. The officer in command at Petersburg told me that my claim would not be considered, unless I could show that I was an American citizen, or intended to become one. As a matter of fact, I had become a citizen of Virginia, by my service in the Confederate Army. But this was not sufficient for the captors of my charger, so I made no difficulty in fully renouncing before the proper officer at Petersburg my allegiance to every foreign King, Prince or potentate, and more particularly Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. This was my formal “declaration of intention” to become a citizen of the United States, and I received my naturalization papers from Judge Bryan, of the United States District Court, at Charleston, in 1867.
In spite of the greatest economy, I found that my expenses were greater than my income, and I determined to abandon book-keeping in the clothing and dry goods establishment of Seldner & Rosenberg, and try my hand at planting, with Dr. Jones. The understanding with him was that I should assist in managing the plantation under his direction, and receive a portion of the net profit, whatever that might be.
[XXXIV.]
I closed up my affairs in Petersburg just as the week was drawing to an end, and decided to go to Mechlenburg on Monday morning; but I could not make up my mind to go off without running over to Richmond to bid the Tylers and other friends there good-bye. When I went into Mr. Tyler’s house, where, as ever, my reception was most hearty, Dr. C. W. Brock, Mr. Tyler’s son-in-law, asked me whether I had received a telegram he had sent me. I told him that I had not, and he then informed me, to my astonishment, that Mr. H. Rives Pollard, who had been one of the editors of the Examiner during the war, was about to resume the publication of that paper, and wanted me to take a place on the staff, as local reporter. I was in much the same mood that I was in when I received my commission as Ordnance Officer, in 1862, and told Brock that I knew nothing about local reporting. But he insisted that it was too good an opportunity to lose, and that I must close with Pollard at once, and trust to work and luck for the rest. Pollard was quite cordial, and told me that he would give me $20 a week. This change from $40 a month to $80 a month gave me a feeling of wealth that I am sure I have never had since. It seemed to me that there were no bounds to the results that might be accomplished with so vast a sum. Pollard had issued a flaming prospectus, in which he described the different members of the staff. As I was unknown to journalistic fame I did not appear on the roll. One of the conspicuous figures, however, was Mr. B. R. Riordan, who, in the words of the prospectus, was an “experienced and accomplished young journalist, who had been for a number of years one of the editors of the New Orleans Delta, and who, during the war, had been the managing editor of the Charleston Mercury.” Those were the words, or very nearly so, and I was profoundly impressed, I remember, with the journalistic grandeur of the forthcoming journalist from the South. Pollard was busily engaged in his room, and had refused to see any one, when a rather slender and exceedingly quiet looking man came in, and told me that he wanted to see Mr. Pollard. I told him that Pollard was engaged, and could not be disturbed, whereupon he told me, very composedly, that he expected that Mr. Pollard would see him, and, without more ado, passed by me and walked into Pollard’s room. This was my first introduction to Mr. B. R. Riordan.
Pollard was a queer character: not without ability, but lazy, vain and dissolute, and it was not very easy, therefore, to make the Examiner what he wanted it to be. Under the editorial management of Mr. John Daniel during the war, the Examiner was known everywhere for its great ability and its caustic criticisms of the conduct of the war by Mr. Davis and his Cabinet. It was a brilliant newspaper, but disfigured by the whim of Mr. Daniel that the old English form of spelling words ending in “c” should be retained, so that in the Examiner such words as “antic,” “critic,” and “music,” were spelled with a final k. Pollard insisted upon retaining this peculiarity. But this did not make up for the loss of the brain and vigor of Mr. Daniel. Professor Gildersleeve, of the University of Virginia, and other erudite men, were engaged as editorial writers, but they did not live in Richmond, and their work was often stale. Pollard hacked and cooked their articles to suit himself, and, when the supply of new material failed, had no hesitation in revamping and republishing articles which had appeared in the Examiner during the war. However, I had no reason to complain of Pollard’s treatment of me. Amongst other things, he was always exceedingly anxious to resent any affront that might be put upon him, and this weakness, if such it should be called, enabled me to make myself indispensable. I occupied the unpleasant position, as I should now consider it, of adviser and best man for Pollard in his principal rencontres.
The first of these grew out of an article in the Richmond Enquirer which reflected on the Examiner, and caused Pollard to determine to cowhide the editor of the Enquirer as soon as he could find him. When we ran the Enquirer man to earth, he was in the hall of the House of Representatives at the Capitol, and Pollard waited for him in the rotunda. When the Enquirer man came out, Pollard attempted to strike him and was resisted. Both the Enquirer man and Pollard drew pistols, and several shots were exchanged. Only one shot, however, took effect, and it unfortunately carried away the tassel of the cane on Houdon’s statue of George Washington, which is in the centre of the rotunda. The combatants were arrested, and for a few days there was peace.