Early in December my husband wrote me the following letter:—
"I am still the victim of ague and fever—the worst I ever suffered. The chill comes on every alternate day, and during its continuance—about two hours—I am tortured with the most agonizing nausea, followed by fever. Thus I spend two days in every week. Dr. Whitehead attends me and expects to relieve me, but meanwhile it is very annoying to be so stricken just as one enters the fight.
"For I have entered the fight! The die is cast—and here I mean to remain, 'sink or swim, survive or perish.' This is the way it has all come about.
"Sitting late one night with Mr. Ben Wood in the News office, he turned to me and said rather abruptly, 'General, why don't you practise law? You would make $10,000 a year.' I answered, 'For the best of all possible reasons—I am not a lawyer.' He replied, 'Neither is C, nor T; yet they make $10,000 a year.'
"Of course the idea of my ever making so great a sum was too preposterous for a moment's thought. Nevertheless, Mr. Wood pressed the appeal; and being enforced by McMasters of the Freeman's Journal, it made an impression on my mind. I said nothing to you about it at the time, because I had, until within the last few weeks, reached no decision in the matter. But just then I received an invitation from Mr. Luke Cozzens for temporary desk room in his office and the use of his library. I have really borrowed books and been studying law in my leisure hours ever since I came to the city, and I now resolved to make application for admittance to the Bar! The application was made by James T. Brady, the most eminent of our forensic orators. I was required to make affidavit of my residence in the State, and some other formal facts, but such was my ignorance of legal procedure that I was unable to draw the affidavit, which Judge Barnard perceiving, he kindly drew the paper for me. Thereupon the Hon. John B. Haskins—my former associate in Congress—was appointed to examine me as to my knowledge of Law. Under his lead we went to a restaurant. When seated he proceeded, with much solemnity of manner, to 'examine' me. He asked me, 'What are the essentials of the negotiability of a note?' This question I was prepared to answer, and did answer to his satisfaction.
"After a 'judicial pause,' he asked gravely, 'What will you take?'
"This also I was fully prepared to answer—and entirely to his satisfaction.
"He asked me no other question. He was apparently satisfied with the good sense of my last answer. We returned to the Court, and he reported in favor of my application!
"Still an insuperable obstacle to my practising was an inability to procure an office, for my desk room at Mr. Cozzens's was not suitable for my new dignity. This difficulty has been removed by the offer of Mr. Hughes (an English 'sympathizer') to allow me the use of one of his two rooms for the nominal price of $1 a month in Tryon Row. Both he and I have learned since that this is considered an undesirable locality—a fact of which we were ignorant, but here I must remain until I can better myself. My room is perfectly bare—a carpetless floor, plain uncovered table, and three chairs—one for myself, and the others for possible clients. Here I have swung out my modest shingle soliciting the patronage of the public. "I have commenced attending the Courts regularly and have heard the leading lawyers. I am not vain, as you know, but—I am not afraid of them! But when, when shall I have a chance? The great difficulty in my way is the prejudice against 'rebels'; and that I am sorry to see is not diminishing. I hope to wear it away after a while if, meantime, I do not starve. It is my last cast—and I am resolved to succeed or perish in the attempt. Several New York papers have spoken of my residence here with kindness and compliment, but a silly sneer in the Boston Post—under which I am fool enough to suffer—cut me to the heart, trifling and flippant as it is: 'The Rebel Pryor has opened an office in New York for the practice of the Law, but he has not yet had a rap.'—(R. A. P.).
"Look now for uninteresting letters. It will be study, study, study, ever after this! I am writing now at night, with a languid head. My children—my dear children! How I love them! God bless them!"