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DIXIE AFTER THE WAR


[Illustration: JEFFERSON DAVIS

After his prison life

Copyright 1867, by Anderson]


DIXIE AFTER THE WAR

An Exposition of Social Conditions Existing
in the South, During the Twelve Years
Succeeding the Fall of Richmond.

by

MYRTA LOCKETT AVARY

Author of "A Virginia Girl in the Civil War"

With an Introduction by General Clement A. Evans

Illustrated from old paintings, daguerreotypes and rare photographs







New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1906

Copyright, 1906, by Doubleday, Page & Company
Published September, 1906

All rights reserved,
including that of translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian




  To

  THE MEMORY OF MY BROTHER,
  PHILIP LOCKETT,

  (_First Lieutenant, Company G, 14th Virginia Infantry,
  Armistead's Brigade, Pickett's Division, C. S. A._)

  _Entering the Confederate Army, when hardly more
  than a lad, he followed General Robert E.
  Lee for four years, surrendering at Appomattox.
  He was in Pickett's immortal
  charge at Gettysburg, and with
  Armistead when Armistead
  fell on Cemetery Hill._




The faces I see before me are those of young men. Had you not been this I
would not have appeared alone as the defender of my southland, but for
love of her I break my silence and speak to you. Before you lies the
future--a future full of golden promise, full of recompense for noble
endeavor, full of national glory before which the world will stand amazed.
Let me beseech you to lay aside all rancor, and all bitter sectional
feeling, and take your place in the rank of those who will bring about a
conciliation out of which will issue a reunited country.--_From an address
by Jefferson Davis in his last years, to the young men of the South_




INTRODUCTION


This book may be called a revelation. It seems to me a body of discoveries
that should not be kept from the public--discoveries which have origin in
many sources but are here brought together in one book for the first time.

No book hitherto published portrays so fully and graphically the social
conditions existing in the South for the twelve years following the fall
of Richmond, none so vividly presents race problems. It is the kind of
history a witness gives. The author received from observers and
participants the larger part of the incidents and anecdotes which she
employs. Those who lived during reconstruction are passing away so rapidly
that data, unless gathered now, can never be had thus at first hand; every
year increases the difficulty. Mrs. Avary's experience as author, editor
and journalist, her command of shorthand and her social connections have
opened up opportunities not usually accessible to one person; added to
this is the balance of sympathy which she is able to strike as a Southern
woman who has sojourned much at the North. In these pages she renders a
public service. She aids the American to better understanding of his
country's past and clearer concept of its present.

In connection with the book's genesis, it may be said that the author grew
up after the war on a large Virginia plantation where her parents kept
open house in the true Southern fashion. Two public roads which united at
their gates, were thoroughfares linking county-towns in Virginia and North
Carolina, and were much traveled by jurists, lawyers and politicians on
their way to and from various court sittings; these gentlemen often found
it both convenient and pleasant to stop for supper and over night at
Lombardy Grove, particularly as a son of the house was of their guild.
Perhaps few of the company thus gathered realised what an earnest listener
they had in the little girl, Myrta, who sat intent at her father's or
brother's knee, drinking in eagerly the discussions and stories. To
impressions and information so acquired much was added through family
correspondence with relatives and friends in Petersburg, Richmond,
Atlanta, the Carolinas; also, in experiences related by these friends and
relatives when hospitalities were exchanged; interesting and eventful
diaries, too, were at the author's disposal. Such was her unconscious
preparation for the writing of this book. Her conscious preparation was a
tour of several Southern States recently undertaken for the purpose of
collecting fresh data and substantiating information already possessed.

While engaged, for a season, in journalism in New York, she put out her
first Southern book, "A Virginia Girl in the Civil War" (1903). This met
with such warm welcome that she was promptly called upon for a second
dealing with post-bellum life from a woman's viewpoint. The result was the
Southern journey mentioned, the accidental discovery and presentment
(1905) of the war journal of Mrs. James Chestnut ("A Diary From Dixie"),
and the writing of the present volume which, I think, exceeds her
commission, inasmuch as it is not only what is known as a "woman's book"
but is a "man's book" also, exhibiting a masculine grasp, explained by its
origin, of political situations, and an intimate personal tone in dealing
with the lighter social side of things, possible only to a woman's pen. It
is a very unusual book. All readers may not accept the author's
conclusions, but I think that all must be interested in what she says and
impressed with her spirit of fairness and her painstaking effort to
present a truthful picture of an extraordinary social and political period
in our national life. Her work stimulates interest in Southern history. A
safe prophecy is that this book will be the precursor of as many
post-bellum memoirs of feminine authorship as was "A Virginia Girl" of
memoirs of war-time.

No successor can be more comprehensive, as a glance at the table of
contents will show. The tragedy, pathos, corruption, humour, and
absurdities of the military dictatorship and of reconstruction, the
topsy-turvy conditions generally, domestic upheaval, <DW64>s voting, Black
and Tan Conventions and Legislatures, disorder on plantations, Loyal
Leagues and Freedmen's Bureaus, Ku Klux and Red Shirts, are presented with
a vividness akin to the camera's. A wide interest is appealed to in the
earlier chapters narrating incidents connected with Mr. Lincoln's visit to
Richmond, Mr. Davis' journeyings, capture and imprisonment, the arrest of
Vice-President Stephens and the effort to capture General Toombs. Those
which deal with the Federal occupation of Columbia and Richmond at once
rivet attention. The most full and graphic description of the situation in
the latter city just after the war, that has yet been produced, is given,
and I think the interpretation of Mr. Davis' course in leaving Richmond
instead of remaining and trying to enter into peace negotiations, is a
point not hitherto so clearly taken.

As a bird's-eye view of the South after the war, the book is expositive of
its title, every salient feature of the time and territory being brought
under observation. The States upon which attention is chiefly focussed,
however, are Virginia and South Carolina, two showing reconstruction at
its best and worst. The reader does not need assurance that this volume
cost the author years of well-directed labour; hasty effort could not have
produced a work of such depth, breadth and variety. It will meet with
prompt welcome, I am sure, and its value will not diminish with years.

CLEMENT A. EVANS.

_Atlanta, Ga._




CONTENTS


                                                                      PAGE

  CHAPTER I. THE FALLING CROSS                                           3

  CHAPTER II. "WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER"                              9

  CHAPTER III. THE ARMY OF THE UNION: THE CHILDREN AND THE FLAG         15

  CHAPTER IV. THE COMING OF LINCOLN                                     29

  CHAPTER V. THE LAST CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY                        47

  CHAPTER VI. THE COUNSEL OF LEE                                        67

  CHAPTER VII. "THE SADDEST GOOD FRIDAY"                                77

  CHAPTER VIII. THE WRATH OF THE NORTH                                  89

  CHAPTER IX. THE CHAINING OF JEFFERSON DAVIS                          101

  CHAPTER X. OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY                                    107

  CHAPTER XI. BUTTONS, LOVERS, OATHS, WAR LORDS, AND PRAYERS FOR
  PRESIDENTS                                                           123

  CHAPTER XII. CLUBBED TO HIS KNEES                                    139

  CHAPTER XIII. NEW FASHIONS: A LITTLE BONNET AND AN ALPACA SKIRT      147

  CHAPTER XIV. THE GENERAL IN THE CORNFIELD                            155

  CHAPTER XV. TOURNAMENTS AND STARVATION PARTIES                       167

  CHAPTER XVI. THE BONDAGE OF THE FREE                                 179

  CHAPTER XVII. BACK TO VOODOOISM                                      201

  CHAPTER XVIII. THE FREEDMEN'S BUREAU                                 209

  CHAPTER XIX. THE PRISONER OF FORTRESS MONROE                         219

  CHAPTER XX. RECONSTRUCTION ORATORY                                   229

  CHAPTER XXI. THE PRISONER FREE                                       237

  CHAPTER XXII. A LITTLE PLAIN HISTORY                                 247

  CHAPTER XXIII. THE BLACK AND TAN CONVENTION: THE "MIDNIGHT
  CONSTITUTION"                                                        253

  CHAPTER XXIV. SECRET SOCIETIES: LOYAL LEAGUE, WHITE CAMELIAS,
  WHITE BROTHERHOOD, PALE FACES, KU KLUX                               263

  CHAPTER XXV. THE SOUTHERN BALLOT-BOX                                 281

  CHAPTER XXVI. THE WHITE CHILD                                        297

  CHAPTER XXVII. SCHOOLMARMS AND OTHER NEWCOMERS                       311

  CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CARPET-BAGGER                                    325

  CHAPTER XXIX. THE DEVIL ON THE SANTEE (A RICE-PLANTER'S STORY)       341

  CHAPTER XXX. BATTLE FOR THE STATE-HOUSE                              353

  CHAPTER XXXI. CRIME AGAINST WOMANHOOD                                377

  CHAPTER XXXII. RACE PREJUDICE                                        391

  CHAPTER XXXIII. MEMORIAL DAY AND DECORATION DAY. CONFEDERATE
  SOCIETIES                                                            405




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  JEFFERSON DAVIS                                 _Frontispiece_

                                                     FACING PAGE

  THE RUINS OF MILLWOOD                                        6

  MRS. JEFFERSON DAVIS                                        10

  THE WHITE HOUSE                                             32

  THE GOVERNOR'S MANSION, Richmond                            36

  ST. PAUL'S CHURCH                                           48

  THE LAST CAPITOL OF THE CONFEDERACY                         52

  THE OLD BANK, Washington, Ga.                               56

  GENERAL AND MRS. JOHN H. MORGAN                             62

  THE LEE RESIDENCE, Richmond                                 68

  MRS. ROBERT E. LEE                                          72

  MRS. JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON                                     80

  LIBBY PRISON                                                92

  MRS. DAVID L. YULEE                                        110

  MISS MARY MEADE                                            120

  MRS. HENRY L. POPE                                         128

  MRS. WILLIAM HOWELL                                        134

  MRS. ANDREW GRAY                                           134

  MISS ADDIE PRESCOTT                                        168

  MRS. DAVID URQUHART                                        174

  MRS. LEONIDAS POLK                                         180

  MRS. ANDREW PICKENS CALHOUN                                196

  FORTRESS MONROE                                            222

  HISTORICAL PETIT JURY                                      238

  MRS. AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON                                  248

  MME. OCTAVIA WALTON LE VERT                                248

  MRS. DAVID R. WILLIAMS                                     268

  MISS EMILY V. MASON                                        304

  MRS. WADE HAMPTON                                          346

  RADICAL MEMBERS OF THE LEGISLATURE OF SOUTH CAROLINA       354

  THE SOUTHERN CROSS                                         364

  MRS. REBECCA CALHOUN PICKENS BACON                         406

  MRS. ROGER A. PRYOR                                        412

  WINNIE DAVIS, the Daughter of the Confederacy              416




THE FALLING CROSS




CHAPTER I

THE FALLING CROSS


"The Southern Cross" and a cross that fell during the burning of Columbia
occur to my mind in unison.

With the Confederate Army gone and Richmond open to the Federal Army, her
people remembered New Orleans, Atlanta, Columbia. New Orleans, where
"Beast Butler" issued orders giving his soldiers license to treat ladies
offending them as "women of the town." Atlanta, whose citizens were
ordered to leave; General Hood had protested and Mayor Calhoun had plead
the cause of the old and feeble, of women that were with child; and of
them that turned out of their houses had nowhere to go, and without money,
food, or shelter, must perish in woods and waysides. General Sherman had
replied: "I give full credit to your statements of the distress that will
be occasioned, yet shall not revoke my orders, because they were not
designed to meet the humanities of the case. You cannot qualify war in
harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it." "The
order to depopulate Atlanta was obeyed amid agonies and sorrows
indescribable," Colonel J. H. Keatley, U. S. A., has affirmed.

There are some who hold with General Sherman that the most merciful way to
conduct war is to make it as merciless and horrible as possible, and so
end it the quicker. One objection to this is that it creates in a
subjugated people such hatred and distrust of the conquering army and
government that a generation or two must die out before this passes away;
and therefore, in a very real sense, the method does not make quick end of
conflict.

Richmond remembered how Mayor Goodwin went to meet General Sherman and
surrendered Columbia, praying for it his pity and protection. General
Sherman had said: "Go home and sleep in peace, Mr. Mayor. Your city shall
be safe." Mayor Goodwin returned, praising General Sherman. By next
morning, the City of Gardens was almost swept from the face of the earth.
The rabble ("my <DW15>s," General Sherman laughingly called his men set
apart for such work), pouring into the town, had invaded and sacked homes,
driving inmates--among these mothers with new-born babes--into the
streets; they had demolished furniture, fired dwellings.

Houses of worship were not spared. The Methodist Church, at whose altar
the Sabbath before Rev. William Martin had administered the Sacrament to
over four hundred <DW64>s, was burned. So was the Ursuline Convent. This
institution was a branch of the order in Ohio; it sheltered nuns and
students of both sections; Protestant and Catholic alike were there in
sanctuary. One Northern Sister had lost two brothers in the Federal Army.
Another was joyously hoping to find in Sherman's ranks one or more of her
five Yankee brothers. The shock of that night killed her. A Western girl
was "hoping yet fearing" to see her kinsmen. Guards, appointed for
protection, aided in destruction. Rooms were invaded, trunks rifled.
Drunken soldiers blew smoke in nuns' faces, saying:

"Holy! holy! O yes, we are holy as you!" And: "What do you think of God
now? Is not Sherman greater?" Because of the sacred character of the
establishment, because General Sherman was a Catholic, and because he had
sent assurances of protection to the Mother Superior, they had felt safe.
But they had to go.

"I marched in the procession through the blazing streets," wrote the
Western girl, "venerable Father O'Connell at the head holding high the
crucifix, the black-robed Mother Superior and the _religieuses_ following
with their charges, the white-faced, frightened girls and children, all in
line and in perfect order. They sought the Catholic church for safety, and
the Sisters put the little ones to sleep on the cushioned pews; then the
children, driven out by roystering soldiers, ran stumbling and
terror-stricken into the graveyard and crouched behind gravestones."

One soldier said he was sorry for the women and children of South
Carolina, but the hotbed of secession must be destroyed. "But I am not a
South Carolinian," retorted the Western girl, "I am from Ohio. Our Mother
Superior was in the same Convent in Ohio with General Sherman's sister and
daughter." "The General ought to know that," he responded quickly. "If you
are from Ohio--that's my state--I'll help you." For answer, she pointed to
the Convent; the cross above it was falling.

They recur to my mind in unison--that cross, sacred alike to North and
South, falling above a burning city, and the falling Southern Cross,
Dixie's beautiful battle-flag.

Two nuns, conferring apart if it would not be well to take the children
into the woods, heard a deep, sad voice saying: "Your position distresses
me greatly!" Startled, they turned to perceive a Federal officer beside a
tombstone just behind them. "Are you a Catholic," they asked, "that you
pity us?" "No; simply a man and a soldier." Dawn came, and with it some
Irish soldiers to early Mass. Appalled, they cried: "O, this will never
do! Send for the General! The General would never permit it!"

At reveille all arson, looting and violence had ceased as by magic, even
as conflagration had started as by magic in the early hours of the night
when four signal rockets went up from as many corners of the town. But the
look of the desolated city in the glare of daylight was indescribable.
Around the church were broken and empty trunks and boxes; in the entrance
stood a harp with broken strings.

General Sherman came riding by; the Mother Superior summoned him; calmly
facing the Attila of his day, she said in her clear, sweet voice:
"General, this is how you keep your promise to me, a cloistered nun, and
these my sacred charges." General Sherman answered: "Madame, it is all the
fault of your <DW64>s, who gave my soldiers liquor to drink."

General Sherman, in official report, charged the burning of Columbia to
General Hampton, and in his "Memoirs" gives his reason: "I confess that I
did so to shake the faith of his people in him"; and asserts that his
"right wing," "having utterly ruined Columbia," passed on to Winnsboro.

Living witnesses tell how that firing was done. A party of soldiers would
enter a dwelling, search and rifle; and in departing throw wads of burning
paper into closets, corners, under beds, into cellars. Another party would
repeat the process. Family and servants would follow after, removing wads
and extinguishing flames until ready to drop. Devastation for secession,
that was what was made plain in South Carolina; if the hotbed of "heresy"
had to be destroyed for her sins, what of the Confederate Capital,
Richmond, the long-desired, the "heart of the Rebellion"?

[Illustration: THE RUINS OF MILLWOOD

Millwood was the ancestral home of General Hampton, and was burned by
Sherman's orders. The property is now owned by General Hampton's sisters.]






"WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER"




CHAPTER II

"WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER"


"When this cruel war is over" was the name of one of our war songs. So
many things we planned to do when the war should be over. With the fall of
the Southern Capital the war was over, though we did not know it at once.

Again and again has the story been told of Sunday, April 2, in Richmond.
The message brought into St. Paul's Church from Lee to Davis, saying
Richmond could no longer be defended; the quiet departure of the
President; the noble bearing of the beloved rector, Rev. Dr. Minnegerode;
the self-control of the troubled people remaining; the solemn Communion
Service; these are all a part now of American history of that sad time
when brother strove with brother; a time whose memories should never be
revived for the purpose of keeping rancor alive, but that should be
unfalteringly remembered, and every phase of it diligently studied, that
our common country may in no wise lose the lesson for which we of the
North and South paid so tremendous a price.

Into Dr. Hoge's church a hurried messenger came. The pastor read the note
handed up to him, bowed his head in silent prayer, and then said:
"Brethren, trying scenes are before us; General Lee has suffered reverses.
But remember that God is with us in the storm as well as in the calm. Go
quietly to your homes, and whatever may be in store for us, let us not
forget that we are Christian men and women. The blessing of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost be with us all. Amen." So other pastors
commended their people.

None who lived through that Sabbath could forget it. Our Government, our
soldiers, hurrying off; women saying goodbye to husband, lover, brother,
or friend, and urging haste; everybody who could go, going, when means of
transportation were insufficient for Government uses, and "a kingdom for a
horse" could not buy one--horses brought that day $1,000 apiece in gold;
handsome houses full of beautiful furniture left open and deserted; people
of all sexes, colors and classes running hither and yon; boxes and barrels
dragged about the streets from open commissary stores; explosions as of
earthquakes; houses aflame; the sick and dying brought out; streets
running liquid fire where liquor had been emptied into gutters, that it
might not be available for invading troops; bibulous wretches in the midst
of the terror, brooding over such waste; drunken roughs and looters, white
and black, abroad; the penitentiary disgorging striped hordes; the ribald
songs, the anguish, the fears, the tumult; the noble calm of brave souls,
the patient endurance of sweet women and gentle children--these are all a
part of American history, making thereon a page blistered with tears for
some; and for others, illumined with symbols of triumph and glory.

And yet, we are of one blood, and the triumph and glory of one is the
triumph and glory of the other; the anguish and tears of one the anguish
and tears of the other; and the shame of one is the shame of both.

The fire was largely due to accident. In obedience to law, Confederate
forces, in evacuating the city, fired tobacco warehouses, ordnance and
other Government stores, gunboats in the James and bridges spanning the
river. A wind, it is said, carried sparks towards the town, igniting first
one building and then another; incendiarism lent aid that pilfering
might go on in greater security through public disorder and distress.

[Illustration: MRS. JEFFERSON DAVIS]

During the night detonations of exploding gunboats could be heard for
miles, the noise and shock and lurid lights adding to the wretchedness of
those within the city, and the anxieties of those who beheld its burnings
from afar; among these, the advancing enemy, who was not without uneasy
speculations lest he find Richmond, as Napoleon found Moscow, in ashes.
General Shepley, U. S. A., has described the scene witnessed from his
position near Petersburg, as a most beautiful and awful display of
fireworks, the heavens at three o'clock being suddenly filled with
bursting shells, red lights, Roman candles, fiery serpents, golden
fountains, falling stars.

Nearly all the young men were gone; the fire department, without a full
force of operatives, without horses, without hose, was unable to cope with
the situation. Old men, women and children, and <DW64> servants fought the
flames as well as they could.

Friends and relatives who were living in Richmond then have told me about
their experiences until I seem to have shared them. One who appears in
these pages as Matoaca, gives me this little word-picture of the morning
after the evacuation:

"I went early to the War Department, where I had been employed, to get
letters out of my desk. The desk was open. Everything was open. Our
President, our Government, our soldiers were gone. The papers were found
and I started homeward. We saw rolls of smoke ahead, and trod carefully
the fiery streets. Suddenly my companion caught my arm, crying: 'Is not
that the sound of cavalry?' We hurried, almost running. Soon after we
entered the house, some one exclaimed:

"'God help us! The United States flag is flying over our Capitol!'

"I laid my head on Uncle Randolph's knee and shivered. He placed his hand
lightly on my head and said: 'Trust in God, my child. They can not be
cruel to us. We are defenseless.' He had fought for that flag in Mexico.
He had stood by Virginia, but he had always been a Unionist. I thought of
New Orleans, Atlanta, Columbia."

An impression obtained that to <DW64> troops was assigned the honor of
first entering Richmond, hauling down the Southern Cross and hoisting in
its place the Stars and Stripes. "Harper's Weekly" said: "It was fitting
that the old flag should be restored by soldiers of the race to secure
whose eternal degradation that flag had been pulled down." Whether the
assignment was made or not, I am unable to say; if it was, it was not very
graceful or wise on the part of our conquerors, and had it been carried
out, would have been prophetic of what came after--the subversion.

White troops first entered Richmond, and a white man ran up the flag of
the Union over our Capitol. General Shepley says that to his aide,
Lieutenant de Peyster, he accorded the privilege as a reward for caring
for his old flag that had floated over City Hall in New Orleans. On the
other hand, it is asserted that Major Stevens performed the historic
office, running up the two small guidons of the Fourth Massachusetts
Cavalry, which were presently displaced by the large flag Lieutenant de
Peyster had been carrying in the holster at his saddle-bow for many a day,
that it might be in readiness for the use to which he now put it.




THE ARMY OF THE UNION




CHAPTER III

THE ARMY OF THE UNION: THE CHILDREN AND THE FLAG


The Army of the Union entered Richmond with almost the solemnity of a
processional entering church. It was occasion for solemn procession, that
entrance into our burning city where a stricken people, flesh of their
flesh and bone of their bone, watched in terror for their coming.

Our broken-hearted people closed their windows and doors and shut out as
far as they could all sights and sounds. Yet through closed lattice there
came that night to those living near Military Headquarters echoes of
rejoicings.

Early that fateful morning, Mayor Mayo, Judge Meredith and Judge Lyons
went out to meet the incoming foe and deliver up the keys of the city.
Their coach of state was a dilapidated equipage, the horses being but
raw-boned shadows of better days when there were corn and oats in the
land. They carried a piece of wallpaper, on the unflowered side of which
articles of surrender were inscribed in dignified terms setting forth that
"it is proper to formally surrender the City of Richmond, hitherto Capital
of the Confederate States of America." Had the words been engraved on
satin in letters of gold, Judge Lyons (who had once represented the United
States at the Court of St. James) could not have performed the honours of
introduction between the municipal party and the Federal officers with
statelier grace, nor could the latter have received the instrument of
submission with profounder courtesy. "We went out not knowing what we
would encounter," Mayor Mayo reported, "and we met a group of
Chesterfields." Major Atherton H. Stevens, of General Weitzel's staff, was
the immediate recipient of the wallpaper document.

General Weitzel and his associates were merciful to the stricken city;
they aided her people in extinguishing the flames; restored order and gave
protection. Guards were posted wherever needed, with instructions to
repress lawlessness, and they did it. To this day, Richmond people rise up
in the gates and praise that Army of the Occupation as Columbia's people
can never praise General Sherman's. Good effect on popular sentiment was
immediate.

Among many similar incidents of the times is this, as related by a
prominent physician:

"When I returned from my rounds at Chimborazo I found a Yankee soldier
sitting on my stoop with my little boy, Walter, playing with the tassels
and buttons on his uniform. He arose and saluted courteously, and told me
he was there to guard my property. 'I am under orders,' he said, 'to
comply with any wish you may express.'"

Dr. Gildersleeve, in an address (June, 1904) before the Association of
Medical Officers of the Army and Navy, C. S. A., referred to Chimborazo
Hospital as "the most noted and largest military hospital in the annals of
history, ancient or modern." With its many white buildings and tents on
Chimborazo Hill, it looked like a town and a military post, which latter
it was, with Dr. James B. McCaw for Commandant. General Weitzel and his
staff visited the hospital promptly. Dr. McCaw and his corps in full
uniform received them. Dr. Mott, General Weitzel's Chief Medical
Director, exclaimed: "Ain't that old Jim McCaw?" "Yes," said "Jim McCaw,"
"and don't you want a drink?" "Invite the General, too," answered Dr.
Mott. General Weitzel issued passes to Dr. McCaw and his corps, and gave
verbal orders that Chimborazo Confederates should be taken care of under
all circumstances. He proposed to take Dr. McCaw and his corps into the
Federal service, thus arming him with power to make requisition for
supplies, medicines, etc., which offer the doctor, as a loyal Confederate,
was unable to accept.

Others of our physicians and surgeons found friends in Federal ranks. To
how many poor Boys in Blue, longing for home and kindred, had not they and
our women ministered! The orders of the Confederate Government were that
the sick and wounded of both armies should be treated alike. True, nobody
had the best of fare, for we had it not to give. We were without
medicines; it was almost impossible to get morphia, quinine, and other
remedies. Quinine was $400 an ounce, when it could be bought at all, even
in the earlier years of the war. Our women became experts in manufacturing
substitutes out of native herbs and roots. We ran wofully short of
dressings and bandages, and bundles of old rags became treasures
priceless. But the most cruel shortage was in food. Bitter words in
Northern papers and by Northern speakers--after our defeat intensified,
multiplied, and illustrated--about our treatment of prisoners exasperated
us. "Will they never learn," we asked, "that on such rations as we gave
our prisoners, our men were fighting in the field? We had not food for
ourselves; the North blockaded us so we could not bring food from outside,
and refused to exchange prisoners with us. What could we do?"

I wonder how many men now living remember certain loaves of wheaten bread
which the women of Richmond collected with difficulty in the last days of
the war and sent to Miss Emily V. Mason, our "Florence Nightingale," for
our own boys. "Boys," Miss Emily announced--sick soldiers, if graybeards,
were "boys" to "Cap'n," as they all called Miss Emily--"I have some
flour-bread which the ladies of Richmond have sent you." Cheers, and other
expressions of thankfulness. "The poor, sick Yankees," Miss Emily went on
falteringly--uneasy countenances in the ward--"_can't_ eat corn-bread--"
"Give the flour-bread to the poor, sick Yankees, Cap'n!" came in cheerful,
if quavering chorus from the cots. "_We_ can eat corn-bread. Gruel is good