The meagre fare made me yearn greatly to participate of the food that I knew was being enjoyed at my home and I was not slow in availing myself of any temporary leave I could obtain. One of these occasions took place just shortly before the evacuation of Richmond and upon my return to the Institute I was greeted by an almost empty building. I found the Corps had been called out the night before to go to the front, leaving me as a younger cadet with a number of others as a detail to guard the Institute. For the short time we were in charge, there was of course no lectures and little discipline, each one could go and come as he chose, with the result that my visits to my home board were more interesting and in my saunters along the streets I began to notice on the Saturday prior to the evacuation premonitions of coming trouble. Great activity was suddenly manifested through the various Confederate Government departments. The Cadets at the Institute were extended permission to remove their trunks. This was availed of on Saturday and also on Sunday until the Institute was practically abandoned by every one there, but was filled with the furniture and the trunks of all the absent cadets, except of those few who had friends to take charge of them. Besides my own trunk I was able to care for that of another room mate and sent it to him by express to his home some weeks later.
On Sunday morning the 2d of April, 1865, it was apparent to anyone that the City was to be abandoned by the Confederate troops. Great piles of official documents and papers of all sorts were brought out from the departments, piled up in the centre of the streets in separate piles at short distances apart and then set on fire to be destroyed, some few burned entirely, others only smouldered and others again failed to burn at all. The result seemed to depend on the quality of the paper and the density of the bundles. From one pile I took out a roll of Confederate bonds with all coupons attached and from another pile a bundle of official papers of various sorts. On Monday morning the 3d of April, I saw going up Marshall street about daylight two Confederate cavalrymen on foot who were the very last of the Confederate soldiers to leave Richmond. On the same morning about eleven o’clock I saw the first Union soldier to enter Richmond. He was also a cavalryman, riding up Broad street and was near Tenth street when I saw him and was surrounded and followed by a howling, frantic mob of about five hundred negro boys, there being no other person except myself that I could see on the street in the vicinity. Between these two periods, the going of the last Confederates and the coming of the first Union soldier, stirring scenes were being elsewhere enacted. I had first gone out to the Institute to see how matters stood there and I found it was in possession of a horde of men, women and children from all the neighborhood around, who had broken open the building and were carrying away everything movable, furniture, cadets’ trunks, books, guns and swords. Indeed, their vandalism spared nothing. I went to my room and was able to secure my blankets and my knife and fork and my books. It was intensely distressing to observe the property of the cadets who were off in the discharge of their duty, boldly appropriated and carried off before my eyes by these multitudinous freebooters who preyed upon it as if it was so much public spoils free to all who chose to help themselves. I tarried there a very short while, carrying away with me what I had been able to save of my own to my home. In leaving I noticed that the brick arsenal across the road from the Institute had been, during the night, blown up with such force that the fresh dirt in two graves alongside had been blown out. They were the graves of two negroes who shortly before had been hung on the hill to the east of the Institute, having been found guilty of burglarously entering the cellar of the Rev. Dr. Moses D. Hoge, the Presbyterian minister in Richmond, out of which they had stolen a couple of hams. After reaching my home, I went down to the Spotswood Hotel at the corner of 8th and Main streets just on the edge of where the fire was raging. Why the Confederate troops had set fire, as was reported of them in their evacuation of Richmond, I could not understand. The fire was most disastrous in extent and in the character of the buildings. It was in the business section; and the post office, a granite building on Main street between 9th and 10th in which was President Davis’ office was the only building left standing within a wide radius. Scenes similar to what I had seen enacted at the Military Institute were also taking place on the edge of the fire district. Stores were being broken into and looted by women, men and boys. Barrels of flour were being rolled away, bolts of cloth, boxes filled with all sorts of commodities, groceries, tobacco, etc. In the midst of this carnival of plunder a lot of women, a half dozen in number, had concentrated their attention on a particular bolt of unbleached coarse cotton cloth and in the contest for it had unwound it, each one pulling her way. Others around were carrying away equally valuable goods ad libitum, but these viragos ignored the ample opportunities elsewhere, concentrating their energies on their fight for this particular cloth. The temptation to myself and to another boy of my age with me was so strong to incommode them in their senseless conduct that we took small bags of tobacco from two barrels in front of a store under the Spotswood Hotel and pelted them with the tobacco. While thus engaged the fire gradually crept around in the rear of Main street towards Franklin and had reached an arsenal on 8th street for making bomb shells. Soon the shells began to burst and pieces flew in our direction, breaking windows and scattering the crowd, including the fighting women, who got away with no plunder from that immediate locality.
We had spent the summer of 1863 on the James river about twelve miles above Richmond and a visit I subsequently paid there gave me an opportunity of enjoying an experience that can never be repeated, namely getting out of Richmond on a Confederate pass and witnessing some of the incidents of an historical raid. My father had formed a personal friendship with the family of General Winder, who was from Baltimore, and as all passes had to be obtained from General Winder, who was in command of Richmond and it was difficult to obtain access to him at his office on Main street, I went to his house and got a pass from his son who was his aide. With this, I boarded the canal boat on the James River and Kanawha Canal, which boat left every evening at the foot of 7th street for its trip up the canal. These boats were fitted to take a long trip, uncomfortable though it might be. It was pulled by three horses going at a rapid trot, the front one ridden by the driver who blew a horn for the locks and the mail and to change horses. The efforts of the drivers on freight boats on these horns were often artistic and as musical as an accomplished bugler. Nothing of that sort was ever attempted by the boy who rode the horses on the passenger boat. The passengers in good weather sat on camp stools on the top of the boat and a man at the end steered, at frequent intervals calling out “low bridge” at which all on deck ducked their heads to avoid the low bridges which so frequently crossed the canal from one portion of a farm to another. The kitchen was at the end of the boat. In the long saloon on each side was a seat running the whole length, which was converted into beds at night. In the centre of the saloon was a long table upon which meals were served. Just after leaving Richmond the sentry came around to inspect the passes and verify the descriptions they contained of their possessors. He usually completed his rounds seven or eight miles out about the time the canal boat reached the “grave yard,” an open space extending out from the canal and covered by water in which were sunk worn out canal boats.
When ready to return to Richmond I was to do so by the Plank Road, but the instant we struck this road we found it blocked by heavy trees that had been cut down and thrown across the road so as to render it impassable for horse or man. We quickly learned that this was to intercept Dahlgren’s raiders who were then some distance up the river and were supposed to be approaching by the Plank Road. All the neighborhood had sent their horses out into the woods in the custody of the most faithful of the negroes to prevent their seizure by the raiders, and silverware and other articles portable had been concealed so that preparations were fully made for the arrival of Dahlgren’s troops. This occurred the next day. They had crossed the river at a ford a short distance above under the guidance of a negro of the neighborhood who had essayed to pilot them to Richmond and when they reached these obstructions on the Plank Road they were compelled to deflect their course so that they were carried around Richmond instead of into it, and here at this point where they left the Plank road occurred an incident that I could not understand then and do not clearly understand now. They hung their negro guide. They left his body hanging and after it was taken down by residents, the rope was cut into small pieces and passed around as mementoes. I feel assured that Dahlgren’s men could not impute to the negro knowledge of the obstructions in the road. The circumstances enforced this conclusion. The obstructions had just been placed; their appearance made this self evident. As a matter of fact they had been put there during the night by parties sent from Richmond and were entirely unknown to persons in the vicinity. The negro guide had been picked up miles above at a time when it was patent to any one he could not have known of these obstructions. The slightest acquaintance with negro character during the war should moreover have informed the raiders that no negro would have volunteered to pilot Federal troops with the intent of leading them into trouble, or of not performing for them all he was capable of, and I can only conclude that he was a victim of combined ignorance of the negro and irritation at being intercepted in their progress. If they had reached nearer to Richmond they would have found almost every white citizen in the City, whatever his station or occupation, armed and in the trenches around the city awaiting their arrival, so that getting into the City was practically impossible.
The Confederate hospitals in Richmond were possibly the most interesting places for most persons. The officers’ hospital was at Richmond College at that time in the country about a mile from the built up city. Since then the City has built out to and beyond it. The Seabrook Hospital, occupied exclusively by privates, was a collection of one story long frame buildings in the neighborhood of 23d street and Franklin Street. The surgeon in chief was Dr. Gravett with whose family we were intimate and a feature of this hospital was the delightful biscuits made there by the cook. The Chimborazo Hospital was another famous one. Between this hospital and a point on the open ground across from President Davis’ residence the signal corps men every night exchanged signals in practicing, a group of men being stationed on the hill near the hospital with their torch and another group with a torch on the other side of the valley in the space next the President’s house. The President’s house, now the Confederate Museum, was one of the prettiest houses in Richmond. The president met with a sad loss there in the death of his son. At the time this occurred some one started a subscription among the children to erect a monument to the memory of the child and the names of all who subscribed were written on paper, it being also there written that the monument was a gift from the playmates of the boy and the paper was placed in the monument erected over the grave at Hollywood. My name was included, but I am sure that scarcely one in the entire number was in fact a playmate of the boy who was so delicate that his only companion was his nurse.
The most interesting sights were the fortifications around Richmond. Out on the Mechanicsville turnpike about two miles beyond the Alms House was the inner fort on the North. This was manned by a battery composed of Norfolk men under command of a Captain Hendren, two deserters from the Union Army were placed in this battery. They were treated in a most friendly way by the men, but they seemed out of place themselves and awkward and strange. Why they should have deserted I could not understand, for an exchange of the ample fare of the Union soldier with their luxuries for the cornbread and bacon of the Confederates could not have been an attraction. This same pike while the Battle of Cold Harbor was in progress presented an intensely interesting appearance, clear from Richmond to the narrow Chickahomini River and beyond, it was lined with soldiers, horses and wagons hurrying to and fro and one of the most attractive sights was the stream of Union prisoners just captured and being marched into Richmond. One prisoner I recall as a common type, he was a German emigrant utterly unable to speak a word of English, dressed in a new Zouave uniform of gaudy colors and he evidently labored under the delusion that he was going to better his condition by exchanging from a fighter in the Union army to a prisoner in the Confederacy. I believe if he had had any conception of the restrictive diet of the prisoner or Confederate soldier, for both fared about alike, he would have been less easily captured, and the bounty and substitute money that no doubt had been securely disposed of by him at his enlistment were going to look less alluring in a Confederate prison than the future these pictured to him while he enjoyed his exceedingly brief army experience.
The most interesting fortifications were on the James River at Drury’s Bluff about seven miles below Richmond, and a sort of an excursion steamer enabled visitors to inspect the fortifications. In the neighborhood of Drury’s Bluff further down the River was the Howlett House, historical for being at various periods first in the Confederate lines and then in the Union. Upon a visit I paid to it in Company with Col. Herbert of the 17th Virginia Regiment and the Rev. Mr. Perkins, the Chaplain, we obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding country and of both armies, our own and the Union. Dutch Gap was in the distance and Butlers Tower was in front of us and down on the river shore below us were thousands of shells that had been fired by the Union batteries and had failed to explode. In returning from the Howlett House to the station of the 17th Virginia, sharpshooters in the Union lines began firing at us and the bullets threw up the dirt around us in a lively fashion. I feel convinced the sharpshooters were trying to see how near they could come to us without hitting us, my companions however preferred to get down below the raise in the ground. The same spirit of play I think must have actuated the batteries that were continually firing shells that went clear over the fortifications and way behind, possibly a mile or so. The fortifications were constructed in a very formidable way. The front of the raised earth was a labyrinth of brush and sharpened stakes pointing outward. Inside of the fortifications were deep ravines cut in the earth, turning and twisting with pillars of earth at intervals, so as to permit the sentries to approach the breastworks without exposure. The quarters of the soldiers were usually dugouts, covered with raised wooden tops. The sleeping bunks were below the ground and each location had a fire place. One of my nights was spent in one of these with a corporal of one of the companies of the 17th Virginia. His room mate was absent. Before entering he handed me a copy of David Copperfield and this was my first introduction to the delights of Dickens’ works. The corporal also offered me a flour biscuit, the only one he had; as I knew the meaning of it to him I declined. During the night we were aroused by a night attack at the front a few hundred yards away, which compelled my room mate to go there. I had never heard so many bullets whistle over head before and the sound was more intense from the stillness of the night, the attack, however, was of short duration.
The most interesting scene in camp life was the church service on Sunday night. The soldiers were in winter quarters and a good sized frame tabernacle had been erected with seats around on boards very much like a circus. The auditorium was crowded, of course exclusively with soldiers and a more impressive service and a more deeply interested and serious set of men I never saw. The two opposing lines, Confederate and Union, had been so long fixed at this point and they were respectively so securely intrenched that matters looked quite permanent and these conditions led to interchange of friendly relations between the two sides leading to exchange of newspapers, tobacco, etc. The slenderness of the Confederate soldier’s equipment was constantly in evidence and the contrast with his bounteously supplied enemy made his situation often pathetic. Upon one occasion during this visit of mine to the 17th Virginia the quartermaster’s wagon came around to dole out a few articles and among the things given was a cotton shirt to a middle aged member of a Norfolk Company which excited the jealousy and anger of a young man in the same company who declared that the older was not entitled to the shirt and did not need it and that he had money hidden away. The scarcity of food in Richmond several times led to distressing scenes, resulting in some instances to public riots, in which women seemed to take the leading part. Their outcry for bread gave to these affairs the designation of “bread riots” and several of a very serious nature took place during the closing years of the war resulting in considerable destruction of property in an effort on the part of the mob to break into stores and resulting also in great suffering and excitement before the disturbances were quelled.
It was an experience not possessed by many to have seen from time to time pass through Richmond the Confederate soldiers that composed the entire army of General Lee. Added to this however it was my fortune after the war to see the entire armies of General Grant and General Sherman pass through Richmond on their march to Washington. They all passed one point where I was stationed, namely, at Broad and First streets on their way up Broad street and out the Brook Turnpike. There were three features that were prominent in connection with these Union armies, one was the well dressed, well kept appearance of the soldiers, another the vast number of their bands of music in marked contrast with scarcely any in our army and another the great number of horses the cavalrymen possessed, some had three and four horses each, and I concluded that the South through which the Union armies passed, must have been pretty well denuded of its horses.
After the war the President’s house was used as head quarters for the general in command of the Union troops in Richmond. And as my father was the only Homeopathic physician in Richmond and very many Federal officers with their families preferred homeopathy and employed him I had favorable opportunities for knowing certain things about which some confusion subsequently existed. This knowledge enabled me to correct a statement some years since that was circulated extensively through the public press with reference to General Lee. It had been declared by General Adam Badeau that immediately upon the close of the war when General Lee returned to Richmond he and his family were the recipients of aid from General Grant who practically provided for the support of General Lee’s family. I knew all the circumstances which gave a plausible foundation for this story. My father, as I have stated, was Mrs. Lee’s physician; he was also the physician among other Federal officers of General Peter Michie, the Federal quartermaster general. An offer courteously and with delicacy was made to General Lee of any aid the temporary situation of his family might require. General Lee however was under no necessity of availing himself of this aid and none in consequence was given. General Lee had devoted friends, able and willing to render any aid that might have been needed to whom he would naturally have looked for aid had such been required. He was at that time, as I have stated, living in the house of Mr. John Stewart, a wealthy Scotchman who had settled long before the war in Richmond. Whatever may have been the arrangement for rent I understand that Mr. Stewart declined to accept anything in settlement, and as a Scotchman can not be made to recede from his position no doubt no rent was paid.