my friend agnes could soon record graver things than idleness or gossip. on april 4, 1863, she wrote from richmond:—
"my dear: i hope you appreciate the fact that you are herewith honored with a letter written in royal-red ink upon sumptuous gilt-edged paper. there is not, at the present writing, one inch of paper for sale in the capital of the confederacy, at all within the humble means of the wife of a confederate officer. well is it for her—and i hope for you—that her youthful admirers were few, and so her gorgeous cream-and-gold album was only half filled with tender effusions. out come the blank leaves, to be divided between her friend and her colonel. don't be alarmed at the color of the writing. i have not yet dipped my goose-quill (there are no steel pens) in the 'ruddy drops that visit my sad heart,' nor yet into good orthodox red ink. there are fine oaks in the country, and that noble tree bears a gall-nut filled with crimson sap. one lies on my table, and into its sanguinary heart i plunge my pen.
"something very sad has just happened in richmond—something that makes me ashamed of all my jeremiads over the loss of the petty comforts and conveniences of life—hats, bonnets, gowns, stationery, books, magazines, dainty food. since the weather has been so pleasant, i have been in the habit of walking in the capitol square before breakfast 238 every morning. somehow nothing so sets me up after a restless night as a glimpse of the dandelions waking up from their dewy bed and the songs of the birds in the park. yesterday, upon arriving, i found within the gates a crowd of women and boys—several hundreds of them, standing quietly together. i sat on a bench near, and one of the number left the rest and took the seat beside me. she was a pale, emaciated girl, not more than eighteen, with a sunbonnet on her head, and dressed in a clean calico gown. 'i could stand no longer,' she explained. as i made room for her, i observed that she had delicate features and large eyes. her hair and dress were neat. as she raised her hand to remove her sunbonnet and use it for a fan, her loose calico sleeve slipped up, and revealed the mere skeleton of an arm. she perceived my expression as i looked at it, and hastily pulled down her sleeve with a short laugh. 'this is all that's left of me!' she said. 'it seems real funny, don't it?' evidently she had been a pretty girl—a dressmaker's apprentice, i judged from her chafed forefinger and a certain skill in the lines of her gown. i was encouraged to ask: 'what is it? is there some celebration?'
"'there is,' said the girl, solemnly; 'we celebrate our right to live. we are starving. as soon as enough of us get together we are going to the bakeries and each of us will take a loaf of bread. that is little enough for the government to give us after it has taken all our men.'
"just then a fat old black mammy waddled up the walk to overtake a beautiful child who was running before her. 'come dis a way, honey,' she called, 'don't go nigh dem people,' adding, in a lower tone, 'i's feared you'll ketch somethin' fum dem po'-white folks. i wonder dey lets 'em into de park.'
"the girl turned to me with a wan smile, and as she rose to join the long line that had now formed and was moving, 239 she said simply, 'good-by! i'm going to get something to eat!'
"'and i devoutly hope you'll get it—and plenty of it,' i told her. the crowd now rapidly increased, and numbered, i am sure, more than a thousand women and children. it grew and grew until it reached the dignity of a mob—a bread riot. they impressed all the light carts they met, and marched along silently and in order. they marched through cary street and main, visiting the stores of the speculators and emptying them of their contents. governor letcher sent the mayor to read the riot act, and as this had no effect he threatened to fire on the crowd. the city battalion then came up. the women fell back with frightened eyes, but did not obey the order to disperse. the president then appeared, ascended a dray, and addressed them. it is said he was received at first with hisses from the boys, but after he had spoken some little time with great kindness and sympathy, the women quietly moved on, taking their food with them. general elzey and general winder wished to call troops from the camps to 'suppress the women,' but mr. seddon, wise man, declined to issue the order. while i write women and children are still standing in the streets, demanding food, and the government is issuing to them rations of rice.
"this is a frightful state of things. i am telling you of it because not one word has been said in the newspapers about it. all will be changed, judge campbell tells me, if we can win a battle or two (but, oh, at what a price!), and regain the control of our railroads. your general has been magnificent. he has fed lee's army all winter—i wish he could feed our starving women and children.
"dearly,
"agnes."
my good agnes reckoned without her host when she supposed general pryor would be rewarded for 240 his splendid service on the blackwater. he had never ceased all winter to remind the secretary of war of his promise to give him a permanent command. he now felt that he had earned it. he had fought many battles, acquitting himself with distinction in all,—williamsburg, seven pines, mechanicsville, gaines's mill, frazier's farm, the second manassas, and sharpsburg, besides the fight on the blackwater.
he now wrote, april 6, 1863, an almost passionate appeal to the president himself, imploring that he be sent into active service, and not be "denied participation in the struggles that are soon to determine the destinies of my country. if i know myself," he added, "it is not the vanity of command that moves me to this appeal. a single and sincere wish to contribute somewhat to the success of our cause impels me to entreat that i may be assigned to duty. that my position is not the consequence of any default of mine you will be satisfied by the enclosed letter from general lee." the letter was followed by new promises. it was supplemented by general pryor's fellow-officers, who not only urged that the country should not lose his services, but designated certain regiments which might easily be assigned to him. the president wrote courteous letters in reply, always repeating assurances of esteem, etc. the richmond examiner and other papers now began to notice the matter and present general pryor as arrayed with the party against the administration. this, being untrue, he contradicted. on march 17, 1863, the president wrote to him the following:— 241
"general roger a. pryor;
"general: your gratifying letter on the 6th inst. referring to an article in the examiner newspaper which seems to associate you with the opposition to the administration, has been received.
"i did not see the article in question, but i am glad it has led to an expression so agreeable. the good opinion of one so competent to judge of public affairs, and who has known me so long and closely, is a great support in the midst of many and arduous trials.
"very respectfully and truly yours,
"jefferson davis."
among the letters sent to mr. davis in general pryor's behalf was one from general lee and one from general jackson, both of which unhappily remained in the president's possession, no copies having been kept by general pryor.
as time went on, my husband waited with such patience as he could command. finally he resigned his commission as brigadier-general, and also his seat in congress, and entered general fitz lee's cavalry as a private soldier. his resignation was held a long time by the president "in the hope it would be reconsidered," and repeatedly general pryor was "assured of the president's esteem," etc. general jackson, general longstreet, general a. p. hill, general d. h. hill, general wilcox, general george pickett, general beauregard, were all his friends. some of them had, like general johnston and general mcclellan, similar experience. it was a bitter hour for me when my general followed me to the amelia springs with news that he had entered the 242 cavalry as a private. "stay with me and the children," i implored.
"no," he said; "i had something to do with bringing on this war. i must give myself to virginia. she needs the help of all her sons. if there are too many brigadier-generals in the service,—it may be so,—certain it is there are not enough private soldiers."
the divinity that "rules our ends, rough hew them as we may," was guiding him. i look back with gratitude to these circumstances,—then so hard to bear,—circumstances to which, i am persuaded, i owe my husband's life.
general fitz lee welcomed him in hearty fashion:
"headquarters, august 26, 1863.
"honorable, general, or mr? how shall i address you? damn it, there's no difference! come up to see me. whilst i regret the causes that induced you to resign your position, i am glad, really, that the country has not lost your active services, and that your choice to serve her has been cast in one of my regiments.
"very respectfully,
"fitz lee."
as a common soldier in the cavalry service, general pryor was assigned the duties of his position, from not one of which did he ever excuse himself.
on may 3 general lee had offered thanks to almighty god for a great victory at chancellorsville.
on may 4, the date of agnes's letter, news came that general jackson had been seriously wounded 243 and his arm amputated. on may 10 the general died, and we were all plunged into the deepest grief. by every man, woman, and child in the confederacy this good man and great general was mourned as never man was mourned before. from the moment of his death the tide of fortune seemed to turn. henceforth there would be only disaster and defeat. in losing general jackson our dear commander lost his right arm. but this only inspired him to greater and more aggressive action.
he decided to take his army into pennsylvania, and after entering that state, on june 27, he issued his famous order, reminding one of general washington's similar order from pennsylvania, 1777:—
"general order no. 73. from the headquarters, army of northern virginia
"the commanding general has observed the conduct of the troops upon the march, and confidently anticipates results commensurate with the high spirit they have manifested.... their conduct has, with few exceptions, been in keeping with their character as soldiers, and entitles them to approbation and praise.
"there have, however, been instances of forgetfulness, on the part of some, that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation of the army, and that the duties exacted of us by civilization and christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than in our own.
"the commanding general considers that no greater disgrace could befall the army, and through it our whole people, than the perpetration of the barbarous outrages upon the innocent and defenceless, and the wanton destruction of private property, which have marked the course of 244 the enemy in our country. such proceedings not only disgrace the perpetrators and all connected with them, but are subversive of the discipline and efficiency of the army, and destructive of the ends of our present movements. it must be remembered that we make war only on armed men, that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have suffered without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemy, and offending against him to whom vengeance belongeth, without whose favor and support must all prove vain."
washington, lee, and mcclellan were not alone in their ideas of civilized and christian warfare.
eighty-four years before this time there was a war in this same country. it was a rebellion, too, and a nobleman led the troops of great britain through the country to subdue the rebellion. the people through whose land he marched were bitterly hostile. they shot his foraging parties, sentinels, and stragglers; they fired upon him from every wood.
on january 28, 1781, this order was issued from camp near beatty's ford:—
"lord cornwallis has so often experienced the zeal and good will of the army that he has not the smallest doubt that the officers and soldiers will most cheerfully submit to the ill conveniences that must naturally attend war, so remote from water, carriage, and the magazines of the army. the supply of rum for a time will be absolutely impossible, and that of meal very uncertain. it is needless to point out to the officers the necessity of preserving the strictest discipline, and of preventing the oppressed people from suffering violence by the hands from whom they are taught to look for protection."
245
again:—
"headquarters, causler's plantation,
"february 27, 1781.
"lord cornwallis is highly displeased that several houses have been set on fire to-day during the march—a disgrace to the army—and he will punish to the utmost severity any person or persons who shall be found guilty of committing so disgraceful an outrage. his lordship requests the commanding officers of the corps will endeavor to find the persons who set fire to the houses this day.... any officer who looks on with indifference and does not do his utmost to prevent shameful marauding will be considered in a more criminal light than the persons who commit these scandalous crimes."
again:—
"headquarters, freelands, february 28, 1781.
"a watch found by the regiment of bose. the owner may have it from the adjutant of that regiment upon proving property."
another:—
"smith's plantation, march 1, 1781.
"brigade orders.—a woman having been robbed of a watch, a black silk handkerchief, a gallon of brandy, and a shirt, and as by description, by a soldier of the guards, the camp and every man's kit is to be immediately searched for the same, by the officer of the brigade."
and so it is that every circumstance of life is an opportunity for a noble spirit. when we "let slip the dogs of war," some men find excuse for license and cruelty, others for the exercise of self-restraint and compassion. admiral porter tells a story which may illustrate the strange "point of 246 view" in the minds of some brave men upon the legitimate conduct of war.
"the exploits of the army in foraging," said the admiral, "afforded matter for much amusement among the officers at vicksburg. at bruensburg, general grant made his headquarters in the spring of 1863. bruensburg and the surrounding country was the great depot for live stock, grain, etc., and the soldiers' lines seemed to have fallen in pleasant places. foraging was not prohibited; in fact the soldiers were cautioned to save the government rations for an emergency, so that the squealing of pigs, the bleating of calves and sheep, and the cackling of poultry were common sounds in camp."
as an illustration of the wholesale robbery of the peaceful citizens admiral porter tells of an appeal made to general grant by an old man, long past the age to bear arms, who pushed aside the flaps of the general's tent and thrust in his head. in his hand he held a rope to which was attached a miserable mule, minus one eye. he told the general, in the poor-white's vernacular, of his nice little farm, well stocked "with the finest lot of chickens, turkeys, pigs, an' sheep as ever you seen," and that the yankee soldiers had stolen everything except the "ole muel and one goose."
"here, rawlins, attend to this man," said the general, and walked away.
"what do you expect me to do?" inquired general rawlins. "how are you going to find out who did all you complain of?"
"well, i know who did it," said the old fellow; 247 "it's one of gin'ral a. j. smith's rigiments. i know the sargint what led 'em on. he belongs to the thirteenth iowy, an' he kin skin a hog quicker'n greased lightnin'!"
just then general smith walked in the tent, and the complaint was laid before him.
"they weren't my men, sir," said general smith. "i know my boys too well. they would never have left that mule and goose! no, sir, my boys don't do things that way; and i advise you, old man, to go back and keep your eye on your goose and mule."
the old man turned to gaze on his beloved mule. it was gone! a soldier stood at the end of the rope!
general smith glanced proudly around. "ah, rawlins," he said, "those must have been my men after all. if i could only hear they had eaten the goose, i should be sure of it."
the story does not follow the aged man to his desolate cabin; but it followed the admiral as an amusing story for many an evening around the punch-bowl.
among the men arrayed against the south in battle were many worthy descendants of the men who achieved their independence in 1775-1781, and who then fought shoulder to shoulder with the south.
"they were a brave, self-reliant, patriotic race, and in all the characteristics of manliness, perseverance, fortitude, and courage, were the equals of any race that ever lived." it was from these men, 248 native-born americans of the north and west, that many a persecuted woman in georgia, south carolina, and north carolina received help and restitution of property. but war brutalizes mean men. the few cannot control the many.
war, wicked, cruel war, knows no mercy, no justice. war is the dreadful crime of the world. against war prayer should ascend day and night until it shall cease forever. it is not right that it should be classed with "pestilence and famine" in our prayers. it should have an hour—a daily hour—to itself, when old men and women, young men and maidens, and little children should implore god to make wars to cease from the fair world he has created.
the refugees who came to us from exposed districts within the enemy's lines thrilled our souls with horror. we heard these stories from the valley of virginia and from norfolk. liberty of speech in child or woman was sternly punished. at norfolk a clergyman, the rev. dr. armstrong, had been put in the chain gang and compelled to work on the streets because of disrespectful allusion to the presence of federal troops. we trembled at these recitals; but we never dreamed the war would come to us. at twilight, when the air was clear and still, we could hear the booming of the heavy guns of the ironclads on james river; but mcclellan had been unable to take richmond, and nobody would want little petersburg.
in july, general lee fought and lost the great battle of gettysburg, which plunged our state into 249 mourning and lamentation. never can the world read with dry eyes of the charge of pickett's brigade and the manner in which it was met. "decry war as we may and ought," says rhodes in his "history," "'breathes there the man with soul so dead' who would not thrill with emotion to claim for his countrymen the men who made that charge and the men who met it? general lee bore the disaster magnificently. an officer, attempting to place on other shoulders some portion of the blame, general lee said solemnly, 'all this has been my fault—it is i that have lost this fight, and you must all help me out of it in the best way you can.'"
the federal loss in this battle, killed, wounded, and captured, was 23,003, the confederate 20,451—making a total of 43,454 good and true men lost, in one battle, to their country. the emblem of mourning hung at many a door among our friends in richmond and petersburg. close upon this disaster came news of the fall of vicksburg.
on july 3d my general (this was before he resigned his commission) was in richmond serving on a court-martial. in the evening he called upon mr. and mrs. davis, and was told the president was not receiving, but that mrs. davis would be glad to see him. the weather was intensely hot, and my husband felt he must not inflict a long visit; but when he rose to leave, mrs. davis begged him to remain, and seemed averse from being left alone. after a few minutes the president came in, weary, silent, and depressed. the news from gettysburg sufficiently accounted for his melancholy aspect. 250
presently a dear little boy entered in his night-robe, and kneeling beside his father's knee repeated his evening prayer of thankfulness, and of supplication for god's blessing on the country. the president laid his hand on the boy's head and fervently responded, "amen." the scene recurred vividly, in the light of future events, to my husband's memory. with the coming day came the news of the surrender of vicksburg,—news of which mr. davis had been forewarned the evening before,—and already the angel of death was hovering near, to enfold the beautiful boy and bear him away from a world of trouble.
i had taken my young family to a watering place in the county of amelia, and there a few homeless women like myself were spending the months of july and august. everything was so sad there was no heart in any one for gayety of any kind; but one evening the proprietor proposed that the ball room be lighted and a solitary fiddler, "bozeman,"—who was also the barber,—be installed in the musicians' seat and show us what he could do. young feet cannot resist a good waltz or polka, and the floor was soon filled with care-forgetting maidens—there were no men except the proprietor and the fiddler. presently a telegram was received by the former. we all huddled together under the chandelier to read it. vicksburg had fallen! the gallant general pemberton had been starved into submission. surely and swiftly the coil was tightening around us. surely and swiftly should we, too, be starved into submission.