On the opposite side of the same street, a little farther up, was Castle Thunder,—a very commonplace brick block, considering its formidable name. It was still used as a prison; but it had passed into the hands of the United States military authorities. At the iron-barred windows of the lower story, and behind tin wooden-barred windows above, could be seen the faces of soldiers and citizens imprisoned for various offences.
Belle Island I had already seen from the heights of Richmond,—a pleasant hill rising out of the river above the town, near the farther shore. The river itself is very beautiful there, with its many green islets, its tumbling rapids sweeping down among rocks and foaming over ledges, and its side-dams thrown out like arms to draw the waters into their tranquil embrace. My eye, ranging over this scene, rested on that fair hill; and I thought that, surely, no pleasanter or more healthful spot could have been selected for an encampment of prisoners; But it is unsafe to trust the enchantment of distance; and after seeing Libby and Castle Thunder, I set out to visit Belle Island.
I crossed over to Manchester by a bridge which had been constructed since the fire. As both the Richmond and Danville, and the Richmond and Petersburg railroad bridges were destroyed, an extraordinary amount of business and travel was thrown upon this bridge. It was shaken with omnibuses and freight-wagons, and enveloped in clouds of dust. Loads of cotton and tobacco, the former in bales, the latter in hogsheads, were coming into the city, and throngs of pedestrians were passing to and fro. Among these I noticed a number of negroes with little bundles on their backs. One of them, a very old man, was leaning against the railing to rest.
“Well, uncle, how are you getting along?”
“Tolerable, mahster; only tolerable.” And he lifted his tattered cap from his white old head with a grace of politeness which a courtier might have envied.
“Where are you going?”
“I’s go’n’ to Richmond, mahster.”
“What do you expect to do in Richmond?”
“I don’t know right well. I thought I couldn’t be no wus off than whar I was; and I hadn’t no place to go.”
“How so, uncle?”