CHAPTERXXIV
“In giving freedom to the slave we assure freedom to the free.”—Abraham Lincoln.
“In giving freedom to the slave we assure freedom to the free.”—Abraham Lincoln.
A fewdays after the evacuation and capture of Richmond, a small party led by Mr. J. Yates Peek, of Brooklyn, still superintendent of the Sanitary Commission at City Point, arranged to make an early start on the morning of April 11th, to see the smoking city. Everything must be arranged over night, and I planned so as to jump quickly into my clothing, placing my only pair of good boots on a near-by chair, to lose no time. But in the morning, almost at the last moment, the boots were missing. When all had joined in the search, to no effect, the mystery increased.
We had a boy orderly, named Jack, who was more officious than useful, and often much in the way, and he volunteered in the search. Returning to my little room after a moment’s absence, to my astonishment I beheld the boy on the floor with his head in my trunk, which he had had the temerity to unlock. He was rummaging and disarranging everything as if with a pudding stick. I exclaimed: “Jack, what are you doing?” in no pleasant tone of voice.
“I thought the shoes might be in the trunk,” he quite coolly replied, “but I’ve been through every darned thing in it and they ain’t there.”
Words were, at that hurried moment, quite inadequate. An explanation of the loss of the shoes came later. We had removed a small stove and left the pipe hole open on the side between two tents, and during the night some ambitious contraband probably had squeezed into the small space between the tents, and with a long stick had “gobbled” my only pair of decent shoes.
What could I do? I must go somewhere, as the party were not willing to go without me. Fortunately, Miss Dupee, assistant in the Maine State Agency, had a pair which fitted quite well and she very kindly loaned them to me. One of the pleasant associations of agency life in camp was the camaraderie that made all things in common, just as the soldier shared his last ration or his last dollar with another comrade in the field.
Owing to this delay, we were barely able to catch the boat as it was pushing off at City Point Dock. A pleasant sail on the James River brought us to the dock of the Seven-Hilled City, directly into the burned and still smoking district.
The fleeing citizens in their short-sighted frenzy, had determined to destroy the whole city. But thanks to the efforts of the Federal soldiers, chiefly colored, the greater part of the city was saved for them, while the factories and warehouses continued to smoke and burn for many weeks.
It was this same obstructed wharf and destroyed dock over which the President climbed, holding little Tad by the hand. They passed through the burned district, against the protest of a small escort, while jostled by a rough crowd.
Blessed by the grateful negroes crowding around the great Emancipator, some kneeling and kissing the hem of his coat, he strode fearlessly on among enemies and friends.
A significant fact to be forever cherished by the freed race is that General Weitzel, with the 25th Corps d’ Afric, took possession of the conquered city; and further that a colored soldier carried the President’s United States flag before him into the heart of Richmond, where it was raised over the Capitol, and Richmond was once more and forever in the Union.
The Capitol, a modest building with white columns and dome, was uninjured. There were many comfortable-looking detached houses, with yards or gardens pleasant to see after the bare tent life at City Point Hospital.
We dined at Spotswood Hotel, still managed by a Confederate host, where we greatly enjoyed fresh peas and corn. We were rather disappointed by the plainness of the gray mastic front of the three-storied double medium house of Jefferson Davis, both inside and out, with only a door yard in front, where I gathered some leaves which are still in my possession.
We saw the entrance to the tunnel that was dug by starving, desperate Yankee prisoners, almost in full view of the guards, quite near Libby prison, and by which many had escaped to freedom, thus bringing more deprivation and abuse upon the despairing prisoners left behind.
All was now changed in the city. The inhabitants finding they were not pursued or in any way molested, were gradually returning to their homes and buildings that they had not succeeded in destroying.
LIBBY PRISONLIBBY PRISON
LIBBY PRISON
Libby Prison remained; a weather-stained brick tobacco storehouse, the former scene of so much suffering and indignity. But the tables were now turned. The brutal turnkey, Captain Richard Turner, by name, I think, was now himself a prisoner. He was a stocky, brutal-looking fellow. All people were allowed to pass and look through a small open window at the miserable wretch, while he defiantly mounted a stool in the middle of the room to show himself more conspicuously. That morning a former prisoner had cajoled him into coming close to the small window, where the man struck through and felled him to the ground as he said: “Take that for the pail of filth you threw over me while I was a helpless prisoner.”
GENERAL GRANTGENERAL ULYSSES GRANT
GENERAL ULYSSES GRANT
It was a fine commentary upon the discipline and forbearance of many liberated victims, that they did not kill or shoot this monster for his atrocities, instead of merely gazing and glaring at him silently through the small opening.
GENERAL LEEGENERAL LEE
GENERAL LEE
PEACE
When the formal announcement of the final surrender of General Lee to General Grant, at Appomattox, on the 9th of April, 1865, was confirmed in the camp, all knew that at last the “cruel war” was over. There was great rejoicing in the hospital, and all began to prepare to go North, or home again, after so many weary years of struggle. Some wept for joy as they wrote to the weary waiting watchers at home; some were to carry to their friends and neighbors the last words and deeds of the many who slept beneath the soil of Virginia, or further south, while their comrades “went marching on.” The workers of the Agencies and the Commissions had so long labored in the same spirit that we were much like a large united family; and until we departed one by one for our homes, we did not realize how close was the bond of sympathy and affection, that could never be forgotten.