To Captain F. W. Dawson.
The “slight memorial” of which Mrs. MacFarland speaks is a set of studs and sleeve buttons of gold, with the Confederate battle-flag in enamel on each one. I hope that my children will prize these; not only because they bear upon them the flag under which their father fought, but because of the source whence they came, and the work and sympathy they commemorate.
I had much to do with another undertaking of a totally different character. My immediate circle of friends, among the men in Richmond, consisted of Captain Philip H. Haxall, who had been on General Lee’s staff for a short time; Charlie Minnigerode, whom I have spoken of before, and who was now fast recovering from his wound; Willie Myers, who married a niece of Captain Pegram, Miss Mattie Paul, and died of consumption, dear fellow, some years ago; Page McCarty, who afterwards blighted his life by killing Mordecai in a duel; Jack Elder, the artist; and John Dunlop, my old Petersburg friend, and a few others. We had been in the habit of meeting at night, when we had any time to spare, in what we called “the chicken coop,” which was a sort of summer-house in the rear of a restaurant in Broad Street. Here we founded the Richmond Club, of which Colonel D. G. MacIntosh, of South Carolina, who had married the beautiful Virginia Pegram, and was then living in Richmond, was the first President. I was the first Secretary. I mention the Richmond Club here, because it soon grew to be a large and prosperous concern, with a handsome club house of its own, and because there were features in the constitution and by-laws which might be adopted with advantage by similar associations. Card-playing for money was absolutely prohibited, and what was more peculiar than this, and was a hobby of my own, no member was allowed to take any refreshments whatever in the club at the expense of another. No “treating” was permitted, unless a stranger should have been invited to the club by a member, in which case the member who invited him might ask other friends to join the party. It was an admirable rule, and was effectual in preventing that hard drinking which is the bane of most clubs, and which is difficult, at times, to avoid so long as one member feels under any obligation, or is permitted, to invite other members to drink with him at his expense, which involves an obligation on their part to return the compliment.
My health now was not as good as it had been. I was attacked by chills and fever, and obliged to give up my work. I think the malady was brought on by my exposure to the sun, in my tramps about the streets in the summer. Dr. Barney, of Richmond, insisted upon my going to his house, and Mrs. Barney was assiduous in her kindness. As soon as I began to regain my strength I went up to Mr. Barton Haxall’s beautiful place, near Orange Courthouse, and recovered rapidly. This was in August or September, 1866. I had for a short time been engaged to be married to Miss Mary Haxall, one of Mr. Haxall’s daughters, but was unceremoniously jilted not long before I went up to Orange. A brighter or wittier girl than Mary Haxall, in those days, it were hard to find; and the unkindest cut of all was that she should have ended by marrying a man whom she might never have known had I not presented him to her. This is Mr. Alexander Cameron, a wealthy tobacco manufacturer of Richmond, who is, I am told, desperately in love with his wife after all these years, and proves his affection by allowing her to have her own way in everything. Before my engagement to her, I was at a party as her escort, when Mr. George, of Richmond, appeared discourteous in his conduct towards her, in consequence of a difference of opinion as to an engagement to dance. As soon as I had conducted her home I sent Mr. George a challenge. Page McCarty acted as my friend, in the matter; and part of his plan of action was to have the ground for the combat on the other side of Hollywood Cemetery, so that the duelists would have the satisfaction of passing through or around the Cemetery on their way to the place of meeting. Page told me, with his peculiar drawl, that he knew I could stand it, and he thought it might unsettle the nerves of the other fellow. The whole of the arrangements had been made, and we were to fight the next morning, when some cool headed friend (I do not remember who it was), intervened, and the difficulty was adjusted, as it ought to have been. There was so little expectation of a settlement that I made a visit to Miss Jennie Cooper, the daughter of Adjutant-General Cooper, late in the evening, and communicated to her my last wishes; and gave her my watch to take care of, and dispose of, in the event that the walk through the Cemetery should not have the expected effect upon Mr. George’s nerves. My experience with Miss Haxall prompts me to say that an attractive girl is exceedingly dangerous to the peace of mind of any one whom she may undertake to instruct in the round dances. The crisis was brought on, I believe, by some tableaux for the benefit of the Memorial Association, or something of that kind. In the tableaux Miss Mary was “Cleopatra” and I was a Confederate soldier lying dead on the battle-field, wearing for the occasion the uniform coat of Major McGraw, who was a Lieutenant in the Purcell Battery in 1862, when I joined it, and had risen to the rank of Major and lost an arm in the service. It was the morning after the tableaux that I became engaged to Miss Mary, and presented her with a gold brooch which exhausted my pocket money, and on which brooch her initials and mine were tenderly scratched with the point of a pin. In less than a fortnight the play was over. But when I returned to Richmond, from Orange, I went to see Miss Mary and her sister Miss Lottie Haxall, who were then making a visit to Mr. Conway Robinson, their uncle, who lives near the Soldier’s Home at Washington. Miss Lottie Haxall, the younger sister of Miss Mary, was a thoroughly high-bred girl in every way, and noble in every phase of her character.
[XXXVII.]
I had pretty well made up my mind to leave the Dispatch if I should receive an offer of employment elsewhere. There was no prospect of advancement in the Dispatch office, and I was very much disgusted by the intention of the proprietors to stop my pay during my absence on account of my illness, contracted in their service. When I returned to Richmond I was sent for by Colonel Briscoe G. Baldwin, who had been Chief Ordnance officer of General Lee’s army, and had been appointed Superintendent of the National Express Company. He told me he wanted me to take a position under him in the National Express Company. This company was organized after the war as a rival of the Southern Express Company, and had been something of a hospital for Confederate officers of high rank. It was at this time in a tottering condition; but Colonel Baldwin said he thought it was not too late to save it, if he could get such men as he wanted to do the active work of the Company. He did not pretend to hide the condition of the Company from me, but told me that he desired to have me there and thought that it would be a good place for me, as, if the Company did pull through its difficulties, I would be on the sure road to promotion. I resigned from the Dispatch, and on September 17th, 1866, I was appointed Route Agent in the National Express and Transportation Company, “with all the rights, privileges, authority, and duties attaching to the position.” My salary was one hundred dollars a month, and the Company paid my travelling expenses. The territory which I was to supervise covered the lines of railroad from Richmond to Alexandria in one direction, and from Richmond to Bristol, Tennessee, in the other. I went out on the road at once, visiting the agents at every depot, and examining into the condition of the business. There was great confusion everywhere, and the railroads were threatening to discontinue taking freight for us, as the Company did not pay the charges promptly. One of the places that I visited was Lexington, where I had the great happiness of seeing General R. E. Lee and his daughters again. I saw General Lee only once after this, and that was when he visited Charleston not long before he died. Engaged as he was with visitors, he gave me, in kindly remembrance of my services with his nephew, General Fitzhugh Lee, a private interview, in order that my wife, Virginia, might be presented to him. General Lee’s youngest son, Robert E. Lee, married Miss Lottie Haxall. I heard after I left Richmond that they would probably become engaged, but I lost sight of Miss Lottie until 1872, when I heard that Mr. and Mrs. R. E. Lee, who were newly married, were staying at Aiken. Assuming that Mrs. Lee must be my old friend Miss Lottie, I wrote to her and begged her to come to Charleston. A night or two afterwards I was at the theatre in Charleston, and as I looked at the audience I saw her sparkling face turned towards me and smiling recognition. The next day Mr. and Mrs. Lee spent with me and my wife, and we went down to Fort Sumter together. It was the last time that my wife went out; and only two or three months afterwards Lottie Lee died of consumption. Almost the last words that my wife, Virginia, who died in 1872, said to me before her death were: “When I die, I shall see Lottie again.”
I also had the opportunity of visiting Warrenton, where I spent a day with General W. H. Payne, whom I had not seen since we bade each other good-bye when he was wounded at Five Forks. General Lomax was living near Warrenton, and we had a glorious day reviving the memories of our service in the cavalry. The National Express Company, however, was on its last legs, and when I reached Richmond in October I found that it had been determined to wind up the concern. So ended my career as an expressman. While on one of my tours of inspection, and waiting at a wayside station for the train, I wrote the following verses:
“ONLY A PRIVATE.”