\
YEARS OF
IV
JOHN BROWN'S RAID
GEN -LEE'S ARMY
ViRGIMA LEGISLATURE
LAWYER AND JUDGE
FEDERAL CONGRESS
GOVERNOR Or VJRGIMA
COI/CMRLES-T-OTERMLL
FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
FORTY YEARS OF
ACTIVE SERVICE
BEING SOME HISTORY OF THE WAR BETWEEN THE CONFEDERACY AND THE
UNION AND OF THE EVENTS LEADING UP TO IT, WITH REMINISCENCES
OF THE STRUGGLE AND ACCOUNTS OF THE AUTHOR'S EXPERIENCES
OF FOUR YEARS FROM PRIVATE TO LIEUTENANT-COLONEL AND
ACTING COLONEL IN THE CAVALRY OF THE ARMY OF
NORTHERN VIRGINIA
ALSO
MUCH OF THE HISTORY OF VIRGINIA AND THE NATION
IN WHICH THE AUTHOR TOOK PART FOR MANY YEARS
IN POLITICAL CONVENTIONS AND ON THE HUSTINGS AND
AS LAWYER, MEMBER OF THE LEGISLATURE OF VIR
GINIA, JUDGE, MEMBER OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTA
TIVES OF THE UNITED STATES AND GOVERNOR OF
VIRGINIA
BY
CHARLES T. O'FERRALL
\ 1
(Third Thousand)
NEW YORK AND WASHINGTON
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY
1904
Of
Copyright, 1904
By Charles T. O'Ferrall
CONTENTS.
PART I.
THE WAR BETWEEN THE CONFEDERACY AND THE UNION.
I. Events Preceding the War 1 1
II. The Opening of the Great Drama 19
III. First Happenings in the Valley 26
IV. Jackson's Work in the Spring of '62 32
V. From Cross Keys to Cedar Run 41
VI. Second Battle of Bull Run 46
VII. The Advance into Maryland 51
VIII. Jones's West Virginia Raid 57
IX. Battle of Brandy Station 64
X. Upperville and Incidents 70
XL Picket and Scout Duty 86
XII. New Market and Piedmont 94
XIII. Lynchburg — Early's Raid to Washington
and Return 106
XIV. Battles of Winchester and Fisher's Hill 114
XV. Events in the Valley Toward the End 126
XVI. Anecdotes and Incidents of Service 139
XVII. The Personnel of the Confederate Army ... 147
XVIII. A Trying Episode After the War 155
XIX. The Horrors of War 161
XX. Conclusions Drawn from the Great Conflict 170
PART II
THE AUTHOR'S OFFICIAL LIFE
I. Washington College — General Lee 181
II. In the Legislature and on the Bench 191
III. State Politics from 1877 to 1882 208
IV. The Rise and Fall of Mahone 220
V. From Congress to the Gubernatorial Chair . . 228
CONTENTS
VI. Events of Forty-eighth to Fifty-third Con
gresses 250
VII. Some Notable Contested Election Cases .... 266
VIII. Incidents of the Fifty-second Congress .... 279
IX. The Tariff, Free Silver, Etc 286
X. The Force Bill— Direct Tax Bill— French
Spoliation Claims — the Navy — Patron
age 299
XL Congress a Brainy Body — Some Instances . . 307
XII. Arthur and Harrison — Grover Cleveland . . 332
XIII. Bond Issue — Currency Question 344
XIV. Conclusion — President McKinley — General
Daniel Morgan 354
INTRODUCTION.
Since my retirement from official life, January the first,
eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, I have been often and
persistently requested by my Confederate comrades and
friends in social, business, and official circles to write my
reminiscences of my four years' service as a cavalryman in
the Army of Northern Virginia under the command respec
tively of Beauregard, Johnston, Smith, and Lee, and my
many years of official life, as a boy court clerk, mem
ber of the legislature, judge, member of the House of Rep
resentatives, and Governor of the State of Virginia. Con
scious of the time and labor such an undertaking would in
volve and my inability to fully cover the ground over which
I would have to travel, I have refrained. But being still
strongly urged I have finally yielded, and shall now en
deavor as best I can, plainly and without attempt at rhetoric,
to put in print some of my recollections of the occurrences,
events, and incidents of the years of war and peace I have
mentioned, the former necessarily stirring and the latter
more or less exciting and thrilling.
My pen will not be dipped in the ink of gall, nor tipped
with malice or injustice. I shall endeavor to give no of
fense, and if perchance I should do so it will be, as I think,
in the interest of truth. I may make mistakes, for it is
human to err, but it will give me infinite pleasure to correct
them as soon as they are brought to my attention. I shall
endeavor to condense and aim at brevity, leaving much still
in the store-house of my memory.
Interspersed through the volume will be many stories and
anecdotes of both war and official life which may elicit mirth
or draw a tear.
The whole will be written in the spirit of a fraternal
Union of the two sections of our once divided but now re
united land.
PART I
THE WAR BETWEEN THE CONFEDER
ACY AND THE UNION
CHAPTER I
PRECEDING THE WAR.
The Cause of the War — John Brown's Raid — Brown's Expectations —
Beginning of Secession — The State Convention to Consider the
Question of Seceding from the Union — Dates of Different Ordi
nances of Secession — My Stand and Peculiar Situation — A Brave
Mother's Decision.
The war between the States from 1861 to 1865 was the
result of a conflict of opinions and interests that developed
itself in the very infancy of the American Union, but the
match that ignited the fire of secession was struck by John
Brown on October 16, 1859, at Harpers Ferry, situated at
the junction of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers, in Jef
ferson County, Virginia, now West Virginia, where a Fed
eral arsenal and armory were located. I was then a boy of
eighteen, and was attending an Agricultural Fair at Win
chester.
"The Continentals," an old military company wearing
the Continental uniform, was ordered to Harpers Ferry, and
I was given permission to join them.
Brown, who had been fighting slavery in Kansas for five
years, had suddenly changed his field. He had a few
months previous rented a farm with a number of houses on
it not far from Harpers Ferry, and there he had his meet
ings and collected his arms and ammunition sent to him in
well-secured boxes from the North.
When everything was ready, as Brown thought, on Sun
day night, October 16, 1859, he entered the town of Harpers
Ferry and seized the National Arsenal, with its 100,000 to
200,000 stands of arms, and arrested many citizens, among
them Colonel Washington and Mr. Alstadt — the former a
large farmer and close kinsman of George Washington, and
the latter the master armorer of the Federal Armory. The
number of men Brown had with him was never known.
Most writers have fixed the number at twenty-two — seven-
12 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
teen white and five colored, but the citizens of the town al
ways believed there were many more.
Brown openly declared that his object was "to free the
slaves," and when one of his guards at the Arsenal gate was
asked by what authority they had taken possession of gov
ernment property, he replied, "By the authority of God
Almighty."
But while Brown was in possession of the town, and wait
ing and hoping for the uprising of the negroes, which he
had been assured would occur, he was sealing his doom.
He might have escaped that Sunday night, but when the
dawn of Monday came his fate was irrevocably fixed. The
male residents of Harpers Ferry had recovered from the
shock, and began to fire upon the insurrectionists. Very
soon militia from Charlestown, the county seat, arrived,
and men from the surrounding country, armed with shot
guns and squirrel-rifles, came pouring in, and every avail
able exit was guarded to prevent escape.
In a few hours eight of the insurgents were dead, and
four others, three of them mortally wounded, were captives,
and Brown, with all of his unhurt men, except Cook and sev
eral others, who had escaped during the night, had taken
refuge in the Armory engine-house, a brick building stand
ing just inside of the gate to the government grounds.
Monday night, about 10 o'clock or later, a company of
ninety United States Marines and two pieces of artillery
arrived, under the command of Col. Robert E. Lee, the
handsomest man, I thought, I had ever seen. The town
was then filled with a seething mass of at least fifteen hun
dred armed and infuriated Virginians and Marylanders.
At seven o'clock Tuesday morning Lieutenant J. E. B.
Stuart, of the United States Army, advanced under flag of
truce and demanded Brown's surrender; this he defiantly
refused. Instantly a detachment of marines, under the com
mand of Lieutenant Green, rushed upon the building, and
using a ladder as a battering-ram, broke in the door, and
after all the resistance Brown could offer, brought him and
his men out and liberated Colonel Washington, Mr. Alstadt,
EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR 13
and other citizens, who had been held as prisoners from the
previous Sunday night.
Brown and four of his followers, including Cook, who
was arrested somewhere in the North and extradited, were
given quick trials, and on December 2, 1859, expiated their
crime on the gallows at Charlestown.
Some writer has said : "Brown actually expected the raid
on Harpers Ferry would be the stroke with which Moses
called forth water from the rock. The spring was to turn
southward and in its swift course to swell to a mighty river.
He declared expressly to Governor Wise, and later still in
letters, that he had not intended simply to break the chains
of a few dozen or a few hundred slaves, and to take them to
Canada — emancipation was to be spread farther and farther,
and the freedmen were to remain in the Southern States.
Heaven itself could not have brought this about unless it
had sent the angel of judgment to cast down into the dust
the whole white population from Florida to Maine."
This raid aroused the entire South to a realization of the
perilous condition of affairs, and she began to prepare for
what seemed to be a coming conflict. Volunteer companies
were organized and equipped by scores and scores in every
Southern State. It also developed the spirit of abolitionism
into a most acute and alarming stage.
On December 20, 1860, a little more than one year after
Brown's execution, South Carolina seceded, and this was
the opening of the sad drama which grew fiercer and fiercer,
sadder and sadder, as it was played, until the curtain fell
upon it at Appomattox.
The Winchester company with which I went to Harpers
Ferry arrived too late to do any fighting. We were marched
from Halltown to the upper end of the Armory grounds,
after nightfall, and there we were told that some of the in
surgents were hiding among the buildings. So we were
thrown into a skirmish line and with our guns at port and
thumb on hammer and finger on trigger, we moved through
the grounds, Mr. Thomas T. Fauntleroy — late a judge of
the Supreme Court of Appeals of Virginia — and I march-
14 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
ing side by side, expecting every moment to flush an insur
gent; but there were none to be flushed — all that had not
escaped or been killed or captured were with their fanatic
leader in the engine-house.
It is a significant fact that although Brown's expressed
purpose was the liberation of the slaves, and he had pro
claimed himself the special friend and benefactor of the
negro, his first victim at Harpers Ferry was a negro. This
man was a railroad watchman, and upon his refusal to turn
over certain keys in his possession he was instantly killed.
So the first blood shed upon Virginia soil by this boasted
negro liberator was the blood of a faithful negro — shed be
cause he refused to betray a trust.
With deliberation and in cold blood, Brown with his own
hand shot to death the mayor of the town from a pqrt-hole
in the engine-house, known in after years as "Brown's
Fort."
Among the military companies formed in Virginia after
this incursion was the "Richardson Artillery," named in
honor of General Richardson, then the Adjutant-General of
the State, organized at my home, Berkeley Springs, Morgan
County, and I was elected third lieutenant. Instead, how
ever, of being supplied with artillery equipment, we were
furnished with small-arms, most of them of an inferior and
antiquated kind. While Brown and his living co-insurgents
were in jail in Charlestown awaiting trial, rumors that an
attempt would be made by Northern sympathizers to res
cue them were rife, and my company was put on guard duty
at a crossing of the Potomac River, above Harpers Ferry,
and we remained there until the executions had taken place.
We were of course very vigilant, but no Northerners ever
came, and we never had an opportunity to fire a shot at an
enemy or to win a spangle of glory.
When this outrage upon her law and the peace and safety
of her homes occurred Virginia was united in her execration
of the horrible deed, and her people were clamorous for the
meting out of the death penalty upon every surviving in
surrectionist; there was not a Virginian who would not
EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR 15
willingly have put the rope around the neck of every one of
them. But the vindication of the law and the punishment
of arch-violators proved very soon to be one thing and se
cession entirely another, particularly with a vast number of
the men who lived in the border counties of the State.
South Carolina seceded, as I have said, December 20, 1860,
and the excitement became intense in Virginia. Public
opinion was divided on the question of secession. On Jan
uary 7, 1 86 1, Virginia's Legislature was convened in extra
session, and subsequently provided for the assembling of a
convention to determine what course Virginia should pursue.
It passed resolutions recommending the Southern States to
appoint commissioners to a National Peace Convention to
be held in Washington at an early day, "for the purpose
of adjusting the present unhappy controversies in the spir
it in which the Constitution was originally framed." The
legislature also appointed ex-President John Tyler a com
missioner to the President of the United States, and Judge
John Robertson to South Carolina and "the other States
that have seceded or shall secede, with instructions respect
fully to request the President of the United States and the
authorities of such States to agree to abstain, pending the
proceedings contemplated by the action of this general as
sembly, from any and all acts calculated to produce a col
lision of arms between the States and the Government of
the United States."
President Buchanan replied that he possessed no power to
enter into such an agreement. The legislature, pending a
reply from the President, made an appropriation of $1,000,-
ooo for the defense of the State. In the meantime hostili
ties had begun in South Carolina, and Fort Sumter was
virtually in a state of siege. On February 13 the State Con
vention met in the city of Richmond. The delegates were
divided — some were "conditional" Unionists, a few favored
immediate secession, and the residue were "unconditional"
Unionists. The first class were, however, in the majority.
On or about March 10 a report was submitted by a majority
of the Committee on Federal Relations, composed of four-
1 6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
teen resolutions, condemning the interference with slavery,
asserting the right of secession, and defining the circum
stances under which Virginia could justifiably sever her
connection with the Union; which were the failure to se
cure guarantees from the Northern States that her institu
tions would not be interfered with, and assurances from the
general Government that coercive measures against any of
the Southern States would not be resorted to and that cus
toms duties would not be demanded of the States that had
seceded, and no attempt made to reinforce or recapture
Southern forts. The discussion of the resolutions was ani
mated, indeed warm, but they were nearly all adopted when
Fort Sumter fell and the President's proclamation calling
for troops to subjugate the seceding States was issued.
This closed the discussion, and almost instantly an ordi
nance of secession was passed by a vote of eighty-eight
ayes to fifty-five nays. On the fourth Tuesday in May the
ordinance was submitted to the qualified voters of the State,
— that is, all white men over twenty-one years of age, not
ex-convicts, idiots, or paupers, — and it was ratified by a
vote of 128,789 "for" to 32,031 "against" it.
The following States besides South Carolina had pre
ceded Virginia in passing ordinances of secession : Missis
sippi, January 9; Florida, January 10; Alabama, January
ii ; Georgia, January 19; Louisiana, January 26; Texas,
February i ; and following Virginia came Arkansas, May 6;
North Carolina, May 21, and Tennessee, June 8. Then the
eleven States which constituted the Confederacy had sol
emnly covenanted to link their fortunes together in a com
mon cause and desperate purpose to sever the Union of the
Fathers and maintain a separate nationality against the
combined powers of the other States with their unlimited
resources, overwhelming numbers, and all foreign lands
from which to recruit.
At the election in my home county for a delegate to the
State Convention there were three candidates — one was a
"conditional" Union man, another an "unconditional"
Union man, and the third was a secessionist per se. The
EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR 17
first, Johnson Orrick, closely pressed by the second, was
elected, while the third had only a few supporters.
My delegate stood out in the convention against seces
sion as long as there was a spark of hope that war could be
averted; but that spark was extinguished by the call for
troops to subdue and conquer Virginia's sister Southern
States, and he promptly voted for and appended his signa
ture to the Ordinance of Secession.
While the convention was in session the border and
northwestern counties were in a state of great excitement.
Fathers were arraying themselves against sons, and sons
against fathers, and brothers against brothers, and kinsmen
against kinsmen, and friends against friends, and families
against families. When the Morgan County delegate re
turned from the convention there were few to do him
honor; the Union sentiment had grown into mighty pro
portions during his absence; many who had voted for him
were the loudest in their condemnation, while those who
had opposed his election heaped their anathemas upon his
head. He soon joined the army, and in 1863 testified with
his blood his loyalty to his convictions, and now rests in an
honored soldier's grave.
When Virginia passed her ordinance of secession I took
my stand with her and the South. I was peculiarly situated ;
my mother was a widow of small means, and had two sons
and three daughters. I was the eldest, my brother being a
mere lad. When seventeen years of age I had been elected
clerk of the County Court, and this enabled me to contribute
to the support of my mother's family.
I was not liable to military service, as my office exempted
me; but I felt that my duty to country should prompt me
to enlist in the ranks of her defenders, and then the thought
of leaving my mother to struggle unaided would dampen
my ardor, and for days there was a conflict going on in my
bosom. Country or mother! Which shall I serve? I was
depressed and down-hearted. Finally I determined to refer
the matter to my mother, so one evening in the early part of
May,
l8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
"When the sun's last rays were fading
Into twilight soft and dim,"
as we sat talking about the war, for that was the general
topic of every conversation, I told her of my trouble and of
the conflict in my breast. She replied at once that she had
no other thought than that I would join the Confederate
Army; that I wras the only prop upon which she could lean,
and she would miss me very much, but the South needed
every man and every boy able to bear arms, and the hard
ships to her would be no greater than to many other moth
ers. God would sustain her in her struggle, and while her
heart almost sank within her at the thought of the dangers
to which I would be exposed, she could not bear the idea of
her son staying at home when Virginia was calling for all
her sons.
I do not undertake to give her language literally, only
substantially; but I do give exactly her concluding words.
They were: "My son, I think you should join the army
at once, and while I hope you will not be reckless or ex
pose yourself unnecessarily, I want you to do your duty."
This settled matters, and on the nth day of May, with a
single comrade from the town, George W. Hunter, I bade
all good-by and rode away with a company of mounted men
under the command of Hon. Henry Edmundson, who had
represented the Southwestern District of Virginia in the
Congress of the United States.
This company was armed with shotguns, mostly double-
barrelled, with here and there a brace of old single-barrel
horse-pistols carried in holsters strapped across the front
of the saddle.
CHAPTER II
THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA.
My Home in West Virginia — Unique Rules and Regulations of a Hotel
in 1814— Berkeley Springs— "Sergeant O'Ferrall"— Summoned to
Testify in Court-Martial Proceedings Against an Old Friend — A
Brave Old Man.
The home I left was known as the "O'Ferrall House,"
a summer hotel at Berkeley Springs, Morgan County, Vir
ginia, now West Virginia, and was two and a half miles
from the Potomac River and only six miles from the Mason
and Dixon line. It had descended from my grand
father, its builder, through my grandmother to my father,
and had been purchased by my mother at the death of my
father. In the latter part of the eighteenth and the early
half of the nineteenth century Berkeley Springs was a popu
lar health resort. It was among the gayest, most attractive,
and fashionable summer retreats of the South. There so
cial ties were formed, friendships cemented, politics dis
cussed, party plans determined, and matters of state con
sidered by grave and distinguished men. It was the sum
mer home of George Washington, and the roof of the
O'Ferrall House covered the heads of many of the first men
of the land. It was conducted under rules which would be
regarded as out of date these days. The bar and office were
kept in one room, and the barkeeper and clerk were one and
the same person. There was absolute regularity in the
meal hours, and the time for eating was by no means un
necessarily long. The gayety of the evenings — which con
sisted principally of dancing, always concluding with the
old Virginia Reel — commenced at 9 o'clock and ended not
later than 12 o'clock. A few years ago I visited this old
home of my youth and budding manhood, and I was shown
by the proprietor the "Rules and Regulations of the O'Fer
rall House" in the summer of 1814. They had been found
in the garret, tacked on a board.
2O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
They were interesting, and in comparison with the hotel
rules and regulations of modern times peculiar, as will be
seen. I here give them as near as possible.
Rule i — Guests will be charged for shaving and dressing, unless they
notify the barkeeper on their arrival that they shave and dress them
selves.
In those days the barbers were slaves and received no
money from guests for their services, so unless the guest on
his arrival notified the barkeeper that he shaved himself,
powdered his own hair, brushed his own clothes, and pol
ished his own knee-buckles, when he came to settle his bill
he was charged with the barber's services.
Rule 2. — Meals will be served as follows: Breakfast from 7.30 to
9 o'clock. Dinner from I to 2.30. Supper from 7 to 8. Ladies will
enter first and take the seats set apart for them. Gentlemen will then
enter and take the seats set apart for them, and they will be expected to
conduct themselves like gentlemen.
The custom was to put cards on the plates, each card
bearing the name of a lady or gentleman, like the banquet
style of the present day. But what struck me as most re
markable was the admonition to the gentlemen. What
would be thought of such a thing these days? Yet we have
been taught that our present chivalry of the South does not
surpass, if it equals, the chivalry of our grandfathers or
great-grandfathers.
Rule 3. — At 9 o'clock the Ball-Room will be thrown open and guests
who desire to engage in festivity will please commence early, as the
servants cannot be kept up late.
This exhibited much care and consideration for the com
fort and health of the servants, wrho were then chattels and
had a money value.
The waters of Berkeley Springs, formerly called Warm
Springs, because their temperature was 74 degrees Fahren
heit, were regarded as exceedingly efficacious in cases of
rheumatism and kindred troubles; and on account of their
curative qualities, tradition tells us, the place was neutral
ground in Indian days, all tribes laying aside their toma
hawks and dispensing with their war paint when they
THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA 21
camped at this fountain of health. Lord Fairfax, to whom
the King of England had ceded an immense body of land and
who established his home in Frederick County at Greenway
Court, granted to the State of Virginia fifty acres, I think,
of land, which included these springs, and being in Berkeley
County they took the name of Berkeley Springs. Prior to
1800 a town was laid out and chartered by the name of
Bath. In 1820 Morgan County, named in honor of General
Daniel Morgan, was formed from the Counties of Berke
ley and Hampshire. Lots were sold, and hotels, boarding
houses, and private residences were built. Among the pur
chasers was George Washington, and at Mount Vernon his
deed for his "Berkeley Springs" lot can now be seen,
framed and under glass. His summer home was torn down
about sixty years ago, I have been told. I give these
facts because of my love for the home of the halcyon days
of my youth, around which cluster sacred memories, and
the interest that surrounds the old place at the present time.
When I joined Edmundson's cavalry and with it rode
away from my home with my face southward, the people of
the town generally condemned me, and one extremely bit
ter Unionist yelled at me, "You will not do the d rebels
much good ; you will be back soon to your mother ; a few
days' camp-life and hardship will settle you." I was ap
parently delicate, and he predicted that I would not stand
the service long. How much of a prophet he was will here
after appear. Little did I think when I parted with my
mother, sisters, and brother that this home would be but a
name and memory to me from that day forward, and yet
such it became. But once while the old homestead remained
the property of my mother, which was more than five years
after I bade it good-by, did I cross the portals of "home,
sweet home." This was in December, 1861, on Stonewall
Jackson's march from Winchester to the hills opposite Han
cock, Maryland, and thence to Romney, when the sufferings
of his army from the biting, freezing winter weather were
hardly surpassed by the patriots of 1776 at Valley Forge.
Upon reaching Winchester with Edmundson's cavalry I
was offered the position of second sergeant in a company
22 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
that was in course of formation, which I accepted, and be
came "Sergeant O'Ferrall."
Soon after this, I heard of the arrest of a venerable and
highly-esteemed citizen of my home town. For many years
there had lived at Berkeley Springs Colonel John Strother,
a distinguished member of the large Virginia family by that
name, and the father of David H. Strother, who under the
nom de plume of "Porte Crayon" was the author of "Vir
ginia Illustrated," copies of which can now be found in the
libraries of old Virginia families, each worth more than its
weight in gold — in fact, priceless.
Colonel Strother was the proprietor of the "Strother
House," a large summer hotel. He had been a colonel in
the war of 1812, and had won glory in this second struggle
for American Independence ; he was as courtly a gentleman
as any knight of old, and he was as gentle in manner and as
tolerant of others' views as it was possible for any man to
be who had convictions and the courage of them. His
heart was always open to the cries of the afflicted and needy,
and he gave freely of his substance to every call of charity.
He was honored by all and beloved by myriads.
When war clouds began to gather and the heavens to be
come murky, betokening a storm which would wreck and
destroy, as he believed, "the grand fabric of government
which he had fought to maintain," he was greatly troubled,
and took his stand on the side of the Union and against se
cession. His influence was felt in the community, and
many, following his example, took the same stand.
Suddenly one night in the early summer of 1861, without
a moment's notice, a company of Confederate cavalry rode
into the town and proceeded immediately to the "Strother
House" and surrounded it. The officer in command dis
mounted and demanded admittance. Colonel Strother
himself opened the door, and he was at once put under ar
rest and as quickly as possible carried away, without a
single word of explanation from the officer except, "We
have been ordered to arrest you and take you to Winches-
THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA 23
Some days after the arrest I was ordered to appear before
a court martial at the cavalry camp near Winchester, "to
testify against Colonel Strother." I obeyed the order and
reported, wondering all the time what the charges could be,
and what I could testify to against this man, who in my esti
mation was incapable of doing a wrong. I found the court
martial in session and Colonel Strother sitting in the tent
under guard. I was called and sworn, and these questions
propounded to me :
First: "Do you know Colonel John Strother, and if so
how long have you known him ?"
I replied: "Yes, I know Colonel Strother, and have
known him ever since I have been old enough to know any
body."
Second : "How have you regarded him — a Union man
or Southern man?" It then flashed upon my mind that he
was being tried for disloyalty to the South, and being young
and not knowing what the consequence of a conviction
might be, I hesitated. I was instantly admonished that I
must answer the question and do so promptly.
I replied: "I have regarded him as favoring the Union
and opposing secession. "All right," said my interlocutor.
Third : "State whether Colonel Strother has been active
in manufacturing Union sentiment, and whether he en
deavored to induce you and other young men to stay out
of the Confederate Army?"
Before I could answer the question Colonel Strother said :
"Mr. President and gentlemen — I can see that the appear
ance of this young man as a witness against me is not pleas
ant to him. I have known him from his cradle; he has
grown up under my eye and I have always been his friend
and was his father's friend before him, and when his father
died I supported this boy for the clerkship of the court,
which he gave up when he joined the Confederate Army. I
hope you will let me relieve him of his embarrassment by
answering your questions myself. Will you?" The Presi
dent nodded his head, at the same time saying, "We will
hear you, but we may desire to examine this young man fur
ther." Colonel Strother thanked the President, and re-
24 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
sumed: "Mr. President and gentlemen — 1 am now and
have been since our unfortunate troubles began in favor of
maintaining the Union and opposed to secession. I have
believed and believe now, that the South is engaging in an
unjustifiable effort to destroy the Union, and which will, as
sure as fate, result in the direst consequences to her. With
this belief deeply rooted in me, I have felt it my duty to in
fluence my friends and neighbors in favor of the Union as
far as I could, and my advice to this young man, and all
others who like him were inclined to join the Confederate
Army, was to keep out. How far my influence and advice
have been effective, I know not, except I know that he did
not heed my advice."
Then, rising from his seat, he surveyed the surrounding
field with his eye flashing, and said: "In the war of 1812
my regiment, with me in command, encamped in this very
field. I was then engaged in defending the honor and
glory of my country. Now, about fifty years later, I am
being tried, as I understand, for treason. Yes, treason to a
government which has set itself up to pull down and de
stroy the pillars of the government for which I then fought
and was ready to die. Treason! I thank you, gentlemen.
Proceed, please, with your trial."
Colonel Strother was slow and deliberate in his speech,
and on this occasion more so than I had ever heard him.
He seemed to weigh every word before uttering it, and then
emphasized it as it came from his lips. After the Colonel
had admitted all that was charged against him, there was
nothing left for the court martial to do but to come to their
conclusion and report their findings. What further action
they took than that which I have related, 1 never heard;
but some days after the Colonel had cut the proceedings
short by admitting the charges against him he was released
and permitted to return to his home, but from the night of
his arrest until the day of his release he had been kept under
close guard and under the eye of a sentinel on post.
I have given as near as I can remember, after more than
forty years, all that was done and said in that tent where
the court martial sat on that bright summer day. The
THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA 25
scene was indelibly impressed upon my memory, and I have
related, if not verbatim, substantially word for word, what
was said by the principal actors. I have not the gift of
language to depict the scene as it deserves. It was indeed
worthy of an orator's tongue and a master's brush. Colo
nel Strother, who was then approaching four score years,
did not live to see the result he predicted.
I have always regarded the arrest, confinement, and treat
ment of this hoary-headed, decrepit, yet superb and grand
man as an outrage upon the instincts of humanity and a
shame and disgrace to the Confederate officer who was re
sponsible for it. It smacked more of the days of the Inqui
sition than the enlightened days of the middle of the nine
teenth century. He was a private citizen, holding no offi
cial position, who had simply and solely, at his home and
among his neighbors and friends, expressed his honest con
victions as to the issues between the North and the South.
He had committed no overt act ; he had not raised his hand
against the Confederacy; he had not taken steps to arrest
young men as they rode away under his eye to enlist in the
Confederate Army ; he had not furnished money or supplies
to the Union. He had done absolutely nothing but express
his views upon a momentous question upon which his peo
ple were more or less divided and which was being freely
discussed by them. His advanced age, his weak physical
condition, his military service, his honorable life and his
lofty standing all counted for nothing ; he was a Union man
and had been expressing Union sentiments. That was
enough, he must be torn from his home in the dead hours
of night, "When ban dogs howl, and spirits walk and
ghosts give up their graves," and carried on horseback
thirty-six miles over rough roads, to appear before a court
martial to be tried upon the heinous charge of treason, put
in confinement or under close guard — humiliated and de
graded. Confederate from "crown to sole" as I was, I con
demned the act when it was done, and now with the wrinkles
that the intervening time has traced upon my brow I con
demn it still.
CHAPTER III
FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VALLEY.
In Shenandoah Valley on Scout and Picket Duty — Battle of Kenistown
— An Incident of Picket Duty — A Single-Handed Capture — I Be
come a Lieutenant and then a Captain — Some Captures and a "Retro
grade" Movement — General Turner Ashby — We Note an Improve
ment in the Federal Cavalry — Wyndham Strikes a Snag.
I remained a second sergeant until the spring of 1862.
During all this time I was in the Shenandoah Valley en
gaged in picket and scout duty, and participated in numer
ous fights and skirmishes, receiving one wound which dis
abled me for several weeks. In March, 1862, the Battle of
Kernstown, between Jackson and Shields, was fought, re
sulting in Jackson successfully meeting the vastly superior
Federal force under Shields, and then quietly and in per
fect order falling back up the Valley. The night before
this battle my company was put on picket on the Valley
Turnpike. Our videttes were stationed at the southern end
of Kernstown, and I was placed in command of them. The
fires of the Federal videttes could be seen at the northern
end of the village.
About ten o'clock Captain George Sheets, of a Hamp
shire cavalry company, rode down to my post, and asked me
if I was well mounted. I replied that I was. He sug
gested that he and I make a dash at the Federal outpost and
see if we could not capture it. I remarked that there were
probably too many of them for two of us to tackle, but he
said that as the night was dark and the wind blowing
toward us, by riding on the unmacadamized part of the
road we could get close to the post and surprise it, and he
thought we could risk it. I replied, "all right." and we
started.
Slowly, cautiously, and as noiselessly as possible we rode,
until we were within less than one hundred and fifty yards
of the pickets, when we gave our horses the spur and dashed
FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VAIAEY 27
upon them. There were five of them, and they were sur
prised. All sprang into their saddles, fired and fled, but we
caught two of them, one each, the others escaping.
This little incident, though unimportant, taught me a les
son; it taught me that success in cavalry comes through
boldness and dash, and that surprise, particularly at night,
will generally demoralize the best soldiers. In this instance
two of us made five run, and we took two of them prisoners.
I profited by the lesson taught me by Captain Sheets, and
many a similar dash did I make thereafter, with more or
less success.
I was not in the Battle of Kernstown the next day. My
company was sent on a scout into Clarke County. Between
Millwood and Berryville the company halted for a rest,
but I rode on for the purpose of seeing some friends who
lived about a mile farther down the road. After riding
perhaps half the distance, at a quick turn in the road I came
unexpectedly upon a Federal army wagon with a single
mounted man with it. Instantly I drew my pistol, dashed
upon him, and called upon him to surrender ; being entirely
surprised, with no opportunity to defend himself, he sur
rendered. He was a Lieutenant Luce, an army engineer,
and as well as I remember a New Yorker?, Not dreaming
there were any Confederates within many miles of Berry
ville, he was out measuring certain distances with a cyclo
meter. He was mounted on a fine bay horse. He was
very much chagrined and mortified at his capture, and said :
"You took me by surprise ; now give me a chance to escape.
I will give you a hundred dollars if you will let me get a
hundred yards away from you without firing on me. Then
you may shoot or catch me, if you can." I replied : "Lieu
tenant, you must have great faith in the speed of your horse,
and you can't think I am a pistol shot. Now, I am riding
a good horse, and I shoot right well." To this he rejoined :
"However fast your horse may be, or however well you may
shoot, I will give you the hundred dollars if you will give
me the start I ask ; I will take the chances."
28 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
He put his hand in his pocket, thinking, I suppose, I
would take his money and give him a chance to escape,
when I said : "Take your hand out of your pocket and do
it instantly. You place a very poor estimate upon a Con
federate soldier. I want you to understand that money
can't buy him. You and your wagon will come along with
me." So I turned back and soon delivered to my captain
two prisoners, — the lieutenant and his driver, — three horses,
and a wagon. I made a trade later with the regimental
quartermaster for the lieutenant's horse, but while he was
as swift as the wind for about six hundred yards, he was
not good for a long chase, and I finally disposed of him.
In April, 1862, I was elected first lieutenant in a company
which soon became Company I of the Twelfth Virginia
Cavalry, with Thomas B. Massie, of Warren County, as its
captain, and in August following Captain Massie was made
major of the regiment, as he richly deserved, for he was a
gallant officer, and I succeeded him as captain.
The morning after my promotion I was sent on a scout
from our camp at Harrisonburg to observe the movements
of a cavalry force reported to be moving through Rappa-
hannock County in the direction of Swift Run Gap in the
Blue Ridge. When we reached Conrad's store at the west
ern entrance to the gap, we learned that a full regiment of
Federal cavalry had just passed, heading northward, down
the Page or Luray Valley; that they recognized the fact
they were in a dangerous section and were moving rapid
ly. I determined to follow them, strike their rear, and
make some captures if possible; so we started after them
and within about two miles we overtook and charged them
and captured some prisoners. We continued to annoy
them, but it was not long before they discovered our force
was small, and they turned on us and we had to make one
of General Wise's retrograde movements. In the early
part of the war General Wise was compelled to retire pretty
rapidly before a force much larger than his, from a point in
West Virginia. A soldier asked him why he was retreat
ing. The General replied, "This isn't a retreat; it is only
FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VALLEY 29
a retrograde movement." The soldier said, "Well, General,
you may call it that, but it looks to me like a retreat, and a
pretty fast one too." The Federal cavalry did not pursue
us fast or far; they soon turned about and continued their
march down the Page Valley. The next morning we re
turned to our camp at Harrisonburg, and I delivered our
prisoners and made my first report as a captain.
The behavior of my men that day gave me absolute confi
dence in them, which was never weakened, but constantly
strengthened from that time until I was promoted in the
June following, after receiving a lung wound at Upperville,
supposed to be mortal, while commanding the first squadron
of the regiment.
From May, 1861, until June, 1862, it was my high privi
lege and distinction to serve under that Prince of cavalry
leaders — that Chevalier Bayard of the South — that Mar
shall Ney of the Confederacy, General Turner Ashby. To
picture him just as I knew him, to present his deeds just as
I saw or heard of them, would be impossible — my command
of language, my powers of description would be totally in
adequate. He was truly one of the most consummate gen
iuses the war produced. Had he lived he would to-day
shine on historic pages with as much brilliancy as Forrest.
He was a native and resident of Fauquier County — a
farmer, a superb horseman, a great fox-hunter. He was
small of stature, his complexion dark and swarrhy, his hair
and long flowing beard as black as a raven's wing ; his eyes
were black, soft and gentle in repose, fierce and piercing
when he was stirred or animated. He was as sweet and
amiable in disposition as any woman; genial and com
panionable.
Turner Ashby was as fearless as a lion, and like the king
of the forest he never stopped to count the enemies he was
to encounter. He was the idol of his men, and they would
have followed his plume into the very jaws of death without
faltering. His judgment as to the intentions of the enemy
seemed to be unerring-. He was never surprised by them,
but was constantly taking them by surprise. He was never
30 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
defeated; he was never routed; he never retreated in dis
order. He was ever in the front on an advance; ever in
the rear on a retreat. In cavalry it is all in the dash, in the
charge, and Ashby recognized this at the very commence
ment and taught his men by precept and example that cav
alry success depended upon it. He would charge the head
of a regiment in a lane or in a defile with ten men as quickly
as with a brigade; strike his blow and retire before the
enemy recovered from the effects of his audacity.
He was a terror to our foes ; his name itself demoralized
them. I have not the space to speak of his achievements at
length. To do so would require many pages. God in His
Infinite Wisdom withdrew him from us in June, 1862. For
one short year only did he serve the land he loved so well,
but in this brief period he wrote his name in skies immor
tal and chiselled it so deep upon tablets that it will never be
effaced.
We had found it an easy task to meet and rout the
enemy's cavalry. As a rule their cavalry were indifferent
riders and poor shots; ours were trained in horsemanship
and were generally good with the carbine and pistol.
In the early spring of 1862 there was great improvement
in the Federal cavalry; they were better horsemen, better
shots; they had more vim and dash. During the preced
ing winter the Federal Government had been directing its
attention to the cavalry arm and selecting men for that ser
vice. So when the campaign opened in the spring, and
after the routing of Banks they advanced under Fremont,
we found their cavalry entirely different from what it had
been. It was showing improved leadership. We could
well see that it was being handled by a skilled, dashing, and
fearless officer, and that we would not have as easy work
in meeting it as usual. This fact cast no damper upon
Ashby's men, and so far as Ashby himself was concerned
I really believe he was gratified at the improvement of the
cavalry he had to meet and fight.
It was not long before we learned that the new Federal
cavalry commander was Sir Percy Wyndham, an English
FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THK VALLEY 31
army officer who had come across the "Pond" and tendered
his services to the Federal authorities, and had requested to
be assigned to the command of the cavalry in the Shenan-
cloah Valley, promising "to capture Ashby and bag his
men." His services were accepted and his request was
granted, and Ashby and his men were to meet and grapple
with the cavalry in blue under the leadership of a vigorous,
brave, and ambitious officer in the prime of manhood, bent
on capturing Ashby and bagging his men. As I have said,
this did not frighten or dampen the ardor of Ashby and his
men, but it acted as an inspiration to them to greater deeds
and grander achievements.
On from the banks of the Potomac came the spirited
Wyndham, every movement showing vigor and determina
tion. Up the classic valley he moved, until finally he struck
the object he was seeking, and then he struck "a snag" and
had his first lesson in fighting Southern cavalry. This did
not daunt him, however, but seemed to drive him to reck
lessness.
Here I shall leave Wyndham for the present.
CHAPTER IV.
JACKSON'S WORK IN THE SPRING OF '62.
A Drawn Battle with Milroy — Jackson Hot After Milroy — One of
"Stonewall's" Prayer-Meetings — The Rout of Banks — Jackson
Between Two Federal Forces — His Masterly Strategy — Ashby versus
Wyndham — Wyndham Captured and we Become Jubilant — Our
Hilarity Turned to the Deepest Mourning Over the Death of Ashby
—Who "Bagged" Wyndham?
In the spring of 1862 Milroy 's army was at McDowell, in
Highland County, and in their front was General Edward
Johnson's command. Jackson moved from Conrad's store
in Rockingham County with his old division to reinforce
Johnson, taking with him four cavalry companies, mine
among them. Johnson, however, did not wait for Jack
son, but attacked Milroy, resulting in a drawn battle and
severe Confederate loss. Our four companies of cavalry
reached the eastern base of the McDowell Mountain the
night after the battle, and met Johnson's army moving
down the mountain to go into camp. It was there that I
met for the first time that courtly man and distinguished
soldier, — the hero of two wars, the Mexican and Confed
erate, — General Wm. B. Taliaferro. He had been in the
thickest of the fray of the day. Our cavalry in moving up
the mountain was annoying the tired and worn infantry
who were moving down. General Taliaferro noticing this,
pointed out to me a way which would lead us around his
column, and he did this in the most courteous and delight
ful manner. In after life I had the satisfaction of knowing
him well and counting him among my best friends. No
braver man ever drew blade for any land; no more loyal
soldier did Virginia ever produce.
During the night after the McDowell battle Milroy com
menced to retreat in the direction of Franklin, the county-
seat of Pendleton County. At the break of day Jackson,
sending the cavalry forward in hot pursuit, followed with
all the infantry and artillery.
JACKSON'S WORK IN THE SPRING OF '62 33
Milroy had learned that Jackson had arrived, and he was
making tracks as fast as possible to avoid an engagement
with him, felling trees and firing the woods as he passed
along. The cavalry under the command of the gallant
Captain Sheets, of Hampshire, had great difficulty in pur
suing over the narrow mountain road and through the
burning woods, but we finally succeeded in catching up with
the rear of the scurrying, frightened, and demoralized army,
and we made it warm for them from there to Franklin.
Jackson's infantry and artillery reached Franklin on the
morning of the second day after the Battle of McDowell.
They were halted in the meadows west, or rather south
west, of the town. It was Sunday, and about noon, or per
haps a little before, I observed a gathering of Confederate
soldiers under some trees on the banks of a creek whose
cool and crystal waters coursed through green meadows.
Approaching the gathering I soon discovered it was a pray
er-meeting. I dismounted, tied my horse to a convenient
limb, and made my way to the group of perhaps fifty sol
diers. As I neared the place I saw Jackson, cap in hand
and with bowed head, standing in the midst of the men,
while some soldier was engaged in earnest prayer. It was
Jackson's prayer-meeting. After the meeting was over
I returned to my horse, mounted him, and rode to the camp
of my company.
Jackson pursued Milroy no farther, and that evening his
army commenced to quietly creep away. He returned
rapidly to the Valley, and moving with quick strides down
it, surprised Banks at Middletown, striking his flank and
playing havoc and destruction with his army. It was on
this rapid march down the Valley that the gallant Sheets,
who as senior captain had commanded the cavalry on the
march to Franklin, yielded up his life at Buckton Station,
Warren County. He was a most promising young officer,
— none more so in the cavalry, — and if he had lived a little
while longer stars instead of bars would have adorned his
collar, and the historian would have revelled in his deeds
and achievements.
34 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The rout of Banks surpassed in many respects anything
of the kind I saw during the war. It beggared description.
Pell-mell, helter-skelter, without check, without any effort
to rally or form, the retreating mass of men, horses, artil
lery and wagons rushed down the Valley Turnpike, every
thing going at breakneck speed, while Ashby with his cav
alry, with carbine, pistol and sabre, was dealing death in
their ranks, and crippling and capturing men every rod
between every mile post.
Banks's flying and demoralized soldiers hardly stopped
to catch their breath until they had crossed the Po
tomac at Shepherdstown, a distance of quite forty miles
from Middletown, where Jackson first struck them. Jack
son followed with his army to the banks of the Potomac.
While Jackson was thus disposing of Banks's army, Gen
eral Shields was lying at Fredericksburg on the east, and
General Fremont was at Romney on the west of the Valley,
and hearing of Banks's fate and that Jackson was still mov
ing down the Valley, they both headed their armies for
Strasburg with a view, it was supposed, of cutting off Jack
son and capturing his army.
The force of each was as large as Jackson's army. They
moved rapidly and could easily have formed a junction at
Strasburg, while Jackson was many miles below and north
of them ; but they halted — Shields eight miles east and Fre
mont six miles west of Strasburg.
"Stonewall," hearing that these two armies were in his
rear and knowing they could readily form a junction and be
thrown across his only way to reach the upper Valley, hur
ried his army southward, and without halting moved
through the gap between Shields's and Fremont's armies
without the slightest hindrance from either, and without
even the firing of a shot, except a little skirmish a flanking
party which he had thrown out had with the advance of
Fremont's army several miles west of Strasburg at Cotton
Town.
I believe the history of the world's wars will be searched
in vain for such an instance of stern audacity and abiding
JACKSON'S WORK IN THE SPRING OF '62 35
faith in his army upon the part of a commander as that of
Jackson, or such an instance of cowering recognition of
the prowess of the opposing army and superiority of the
opposing general as that displayed by Shields and Fremont
(both personally brave) at Strasburg in May, 1862.
As soon as Jackson's army had passed through the gap
between the two Federal armies, Fremont closed in on his
rear, while Shields moved up the Luray Valley on a par
allel line with Jackson. The Federal cavalry, greatly im
proved, and under a commander of more than ordinary
energy and daring, commenced to dog our rear. So I
shall now take up Sir Percy Wyndham from where I left
him, for it was he who was at the head of the cavalry of
Fremont's army. From Strasburg to Mount Jackson, a
distance of twenty-four miles, there was no space of a hun
dred yards on the Valley Turnpike that was not the scene
of cavalry fighting, — stubborn fighting, charge and counter
charge, repulse and rally, — in which the carbine and pistol
were killing and maiming and disabling. However, our
cavalry under Ashby was constantly showing its superiority
over its mounted foe. Finally Mount Jackson was reached,
and then came the supreme test of the strength and daring,
dash and prowess of the Federal and Confederate cavalry
under Wyndham and Ashby.
Passing through Mount Jackson in perfect order, Ashby
led his brigade across the bridge spanning the north branch
of the Shenandoah River into the broad meadows known
as Meem's bottoms, and there he prepared to meet the
entire Federal cavalry force. A more ideal place for a
large cavalry engagement could not have been found or de
sired. It was a broad sweep of hundreds of acres of level
ground, upon which luxuriant crops of wheat and corn
and grass had grown for scores of years; there were no
fences to interfere and nothing to retard a charge, except
an occasional ditch which could be cleared easily.
Forming his men about half a mile from the river, Ashby
awaited Wyndham's advance. The wait was not long.
On came the Federal cavalry in handsome style, flags flying
36 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and bugles sounding. Into line the regiments galloped,
and when all were ready the command "forward" was
given; instantly a similar command rang down the Con
federate lines, then "trot," then "gallop," and then about
the same instant the command "charge" was heard from
both sides, and the moment was at hand for the supreme
test. Not a Confederate wavered, and with the rebel yell,
once heard never forgotten, Ashby's cavalry with the force
of a hurricane swept upon Wyndham's charging line.
The struggle was brief ; the Federals gave away, and while
they kept up a running fire, they were driven before the
Confederates, and victory perched upon Ashby's banner.
Our loss was slight ; the enemy's was severe in killed,
wounded and prisoners.
It was in this fight that Ashby's famous Arabian horse
received a wound from which he died a few hours there
after. The horse was of medium size, with keen and per
fect limbs, long, flowing mane and tail, splendid neck and
head, and taking him all in all a perfect model. He was
as white as snow and as brave as his master and rider, and
that means as brave as brave could be. There is as much
in the bravery of horses as in the bravery of men. Some
horses are brave and some are cowardly, just as some men
are brave and some cowardly. This horse was shot
through his body just behind the saddle girth. After he
was shot, with his head and tail up, his nostrils distended,
his eye flashing, and his blood trickling down and crimson
ing his white sides, he carried his master to a place of safety.
When Ashby dismounted he looked upon his noble
friend; he saw that the splendid animal was mortally
wounded, and with every indication of the deepest emotion
and affection, he turned him over to a soldier, and mounting
another steed returned to the front. The horse was slowly
led up the Valley Pike, and about a half mile above New
Market he fell on the road-side and died. Instantly his
mane and tail were taken by soldiers, and later his bones,
and all were made into trinkets, emblems, and keepsakes,
some of which were given to me and are now in my posses
sion.
JACKSON'S WORK IN THE SPRING OF '62 37
Wyndham's reverse at Mount Jackson did not have the
effect of discouraging him. The next morning bright and
early he was on our heels as Jackson's army, with Ashby's
cavalry covering its rear, resumed its retiring march. He
kept close up and harrassed us not a little, and the penalty of
straggling was capture.
On the afternoon of Friday, June 6, 1862, our army
passed through Harrisonburg, and about a mile south of the
town it turned eastward and moved in the direction of Cross
Keys and Port Republic.
When we had gone about a mile, Wyndham made a dash
with his cavalry ; our brigade, under the command of Colo
nel Thomas T. Munford, of the Second Regiment, and rank
ing officer, met his charge, Ashby having left us, why or for
what purpose we did not then know. We repulsed and
routed Wyndham's men again and captured Wyndham
himself.
While we were engaged with Wryndham we heard heavy
infantry firing on our right and not far off. Our practised
ears told us that it was a stiff fight.
Soon after repulsing and capturing Wyndham and driv
ing his men some distance, it being late, we were ordered to
move on toward Cross Keys and seek camping places for
the night. We were all in high glee and spirits; we had
met and defeated the Federal cavalry in two pitched en
gagements in square fights of cavalry against cavalry; we
had Wyndham a captive in our hands — we were jubilant.
Suddenly there was a lull in the hilarity at the head of the
column, and along down the column it extended, as the
word passed from regiment to regiment and from company
to company that Ashby was killed. No tongue can de
scribe, no language can paint the effect upon his devoted
men. Their hilarity was turned into mourning — mourning
terrible; tears flowed in streams from eyes of the sternest
men; moans deep came from the stoutest hearts. That
night every camp was the scene of unspeakable distress —
there was no sleep, no rest, the sorrow was too intense for
eyelids to close, or nature, however worn, to seek relief in
the arms of Morpheus.
3§ FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Never in the tide of time did any commander have a
firmer hold upon the affection and confidence of his men
than Ashby, and no commander whose name has ever glit
tered in the firmament of fame deserved it more than the
brave and fearless, daring and dashing, ever-successful
Ashby — the consummate cavalry leader.
He had fallen in the infantry engagement whose musketry
rattle we had heard on our right while we were engaged
with Wyndham. Leaving us under the command of Col
onel Munford, he took command of the Fifty-eighth Vir
ginia and First Maryland regiments and was leading them
against a strong, thoroughly equipped, well disciplined and
well officered Pennsylvania regiment known as the "Buck-
tail Rifles," so named because they were all from the moun
tainous region of their State, and each man wore a bucktail
in his cap.
In advancing to meet this superb body of men Ashby had
remained on his horse, a sorrel, which had taken the place
of his famous white Arabian, until his horse was killed;
then he continued to lead on foot, and when the fight was
at its height and just as victory was about to gladden his
heart, a ball pierced his body and "his warrior spirit winged
its flight to meet a warrior's God."
His body was borne from the field, and the next day,
Saturday, June 7, it laid in state in the parlor of the resi
dence of Dr. George W. Kemper at Port Republic, wrapped
in the Confederate flag, and when the shadows of the even
ing put an end to the throng which from early morning had
been taking their last look, the flag and bier were wet with
the tears which had rolled unchecked from the eyes of
strong and brave men. The next day, Sunday, June 8, his
remains were conveyed to Charlottesville and buried, and
there they remained until after the war, when they were re
moved to the Confederate Cemetery at Winchester and re-
interred by the side of his brother Richard, who was killed
at Kelly's Island in the summer of 1861.
Of Ashby well and beautifully did the poet write after
his death :
JACKSON'S WORK IN THE: SPRING OF '62 39
"To the brave all homage render,
Weep, ye skies of June !
With a radiance pure and tender,
Shine, oh saddened moon !
Dead upon the field of glory,
Hero fit for song and story,
Lies our bold dragoon."
In the soldiers' section of Winchester's lovely cemetery he
rests, and at each recurring Memorial Day in Winchester,
the 6th of June, the anniversary of Ashby's death, Southern
matrons and maidens bank flowers upon his grave, and
"There throughout the coming ages,
When his sword is rust
And his deeds in classic pages,
Mindful of her trust,
Shall Virginia, bending lowly,
Still a ceaseless vigil holy
Keep above his dust !"
Returning for a moment to Wyndham, I will say that
there has always been a dispute as to who captured him. I
saw him directly after he was taken, but I did not see
him captured. I was told at the time to whom he had sur
rendered, but as I have no personal knowledge on the sub
ject, I will not make myself a party to the dispute by stating
what I heard. I will say this, however, that I was in
formed that in endeavoring to rally his men after they broke,
he ran upon a wide ditch or gully in the field, at which his
horse balked; that just then a Confederate officer, whose
name was given me, dashed up to him, when, pointing his
sabre in the ground and swearing he would never attempt
to command "another - - Yankee," he surrendered to this
officer. However, he did not keep his word, for after he
was exchanged as a prisoner, he met with another sound
drubbing at the hands of our cavalry at Berryville.
As I have previously stated, Wyndham had promised the
Federal authorities at Washington when his services were
accepted that "he would capture Ashby and bag his men."
Instead, however, he was whipped in every engagement and
was made a prisoner himself by one of Ashby's men, and
4o FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
all of Ashby's men that his command ever "bagged" were
not enough to much more than form a corporal's guard.
But it must strike all who read these reminiscences that it
was a most remarkable coincidence that Wyndham was cap
tured and Asby was killed the same afternoon and nearly
at the same time and almost in the same engagement.
CHAPTER V
FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN.
Jackson and Fremont Confront Each Other Near Cross Keys — Battle
of Cross Keys — Jackson Defeats Fremont One Day and Shields
the Next— A Quick Move to Take Part in Battle of Games' Mill—
Swinton Gives Jackson Credit of Saving Richmond — Battle of
Cedar Run— The Night Attack upon Catlett Station— A Ride
Around Pope's Army.
All of Saturday, the day after Ashby fell, Jackson and
Fremont confronted each other near Cross Keys about
eight miles from Harrisonburg. A terrible gloom rested
like a pall over the whole Confederate army on account of
Ashby's death; every soldier — infantryman, artilleryman
and cavalryman, and even waggoner — went about with sad
faces; they mourned his loss as a man and soldier; they
felt his loss to the army and to the South. In fact, at that
time Ashby was deeper down in the affections of the Valley
army than Jackson. This is a truth which I think any man
of that army now living would verify. A little later noth
ing could have surpassed the love of Jackson's men for their
great and invincible leader.
On Sunday, June 8, Jackson's men were aroused early
from their rest, and were soon stripping themselves for the
fray which they could see and feel would quickly begin. Be
fore an early breakfast had been swallowed, cannons were
heard in our rear in the direction of Port Republic. A
large detachment of cavalry was hurried to the ancient vil
lage which wras located in the forks of the North and South
rivers, whose junction at this point formed the Shenandoah
River. When we reached the vicinity of Port Republic,
which was about four miles from Cross Keys, we learned
that Shields, who had been moving up the Luray or Page
Valley on a parallel line with Jackson as he moved up the
main or Shenandoah Valley, had reached the south side of
South River and some of his men had made a dash to seize
42 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and hold the bridge which spanned the North River at Port
Republic, and thus get in the rear of Jackson's army while
Fremont's army was in his front. But Jackson had guarded
against such a movement ; the evening before he had
planted artillery on the hills west or north of the bridge
which commanded the approaches on the opposite side, and
Shields's dash had been rendered futile and his men driven
back by shell and canister from our guns on the hills. I
heard at that time, and have heard many times since, that
General Jackson was in Port Republic when the Federal
cavalry and artillery made their dash, and that they reached
the bridge, planted a piece of artillery at the end of it and
had Jackson cut off with an unfordable river between him
and his army; that Jackson rode rapidly to the bridge, or
dered the officer in charge of a piece of artillery to move it
and take another position, and that while the Federal officer,
supposing he was receiving orders from a superior Federal
officer, was preparing to move, Jackson put spurs to his
horse, rushed across the bridge, and saved himself from cap
ture. I am not ready to* vouch for the truthfulness of the
story. I think the real facts are that he made a very nar
row escape, crossing the bridge not more than a minute, per
haps, before the Federal cavalry reached it.
It was on this Sunday, June 8, 1862, that Jackson met
Fremont and defeated him in what is known as the Battle
of Cross Keys, driving him back on Harrisonburg. It was
on the next day, Monday, June 9, 1862, that he defeated and
routed Shields in what is known as the Battle of Port Re
public.
It will go down in history, never to be effaced, that with
Fremont's army, as large as his own, in front of him, and
Shields's army, as large as his own, in his rear, Jackson de
feated Fremont on one day and Shields on the next day, and
kept them so separated that one could not aid the other, and
could only look on and see each other most soundly thrashed,
without the power to send even a squadron to assist.
On Monday, after Jackson's army had all passed over the
North River by way of the bridge and his men had crossed
FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN 43
the South River by wading or on footways formed by run
ning- wagons into the stream and laying planks from one to
the other, and his artillery, caissons and supply wagons by
fording, the bridge across North River was burned, and this
prevented the two defeated Federal armies from forming a
junction, or getting together, or attacking Jackson from
front and rear.
Moving into the recesses of the Blue Ridge Mountain on
the night after the Battle of Lewiston, or Port Republic,
Jackson rested his army, keeping up demonstrations as if
he were preparing to move down the Valley again. Devices
spread the news that reinforcements were reaching him.
These tactics caused Fremont to retire toward Winchester,
and for two weeks or more, in fact until Jackson appeared
below Richmond, he was looking daily for Jackson to ad
vance upon him. These devices also had the effect of keep
ing McDowell in the Valley.
Having rested his men, on the night of June 17, Jackson,
ordering his cavalry to keep up their demonstrations down
the Valley, moved toward Richmond, and by rail and foot,
by what was called "the ride-and-tie" way, he arrived in the
vicinity of the Confederate Capital on the 26th of June, and
was ready to sweep in on McClellan's rear and flank and
take part in the bloody Battle of Games' Mill on the 27th.
In three months — from March to June — his army, before
leaving the Valley, had marched more than five hundred
miles, fought five pitched battles, and had numerous minor
engagements. Swinton says:
He made great captures of stores and prisoners, and by his skilful
maneuvering of only 15,000 men he succeeded in neutralizing a force
of 60,000. It is perhaps not too much to say that he saved Richmond,
for when McClellan, in expectation that McDowell might still be allowed
to come and join, threw forward his right wing under Porter to Han
over Court House on the 26th day of May, the echoes of his cannons
bore to those in Richmond who knew the situation of the two Union
armies the knell of the Capital of the Confederacy.
Jackson's movements and strategy had called McDowell
westward and held him, and Richmond was relieved of the
impending danger.
44 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
I was not a participant in any of the engagements around
classic Richmond. I was kept in other sections, and as I
am only recounting things of which I have personal knowl
edge, or with which I was in close touch, I shall not speak
of these engagements. Personally I know nothing of them.
During the weeks that intervened between Jackson's de
parture from the Valley and the Battle of Cedar Run, or
Slaughter's Mountain, the regiment to which I was attached
was kept busy in various ways — principally outpost duty
and scouting in the Valley and Piedmont sections. On the
7th of August, I think, we joined Jackson in Orange
County, and the next day we participated in the Battle of
Cedar Run, resulting in a victory over Pope, "whose head
quarters/' he said, "were in the saddle," and who had only
a day or two before wired to Washington that "he had seen
nothing but the backs of the enemy." A little after dusk,
and while firing was still going on, I was ordered by Colonel
Asher W. Harman, colonel of my regiment, to take a squad
of my men from my company, find General Jackson, and de
liver a message to him. I started, and being unfamiliar with
the country and only directed by the sound of the firing, I
wended my way with difficulty, but without encountering
any serious obstacle. As I expected, I found General Jack
son at the front and where cannons were still roaring. It
was in front of a piece of woods which some of our artillery
were engaged in shelling. He was sitting by a gun, eating
an onion and some hardtack. I saluted him and delivered
my message. What it was I never knew. He wrote a re
ply on his knee while sitting on his horse, and handed it to
me with the remark, "Lieutenant, you can return to your
command and deliver this paper to your colonel" ; he then
rode away. I obeyed his command, and had little trouble
in reaching Colonel Harman, though he had moved from
where I had left him.
The Battle of Cedar Mountain was a hard-fought battle,
as the Federals contested every inch until after dark, when
they were forced to retire, leaving us in possession of the
field and having driven them quite a distance from the place
they first offered fight. The loss has been put down at
FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN 45
about 1,300 on our side and about 2,400 on the Federal
side, of which about 1,700 were killed and wounded. We
captured one or two pieces of artillery, several colors, and
five or six thousand small-arms.
Jackson telegraphed to Lee, "God has blessed our arms
with another victory." Lee replied, "I congratulate you
most heartily on the victory which God has granted you
over our enemies at Cedar Run." I give at least the sub
stance, if not the exact words, of the two messages.
From this time forward we heard no more from Pope
that his headquarters were in the saddle or that he had seen
nothing but the backs of the enemy. He had been taught a
lesson which he remembered, and gave him a mortal dread
of Stonewall and his men.
The cavalry, as the eyes and ears of the army, was kept
busy watching the enemy, making reconnaissances and in
almost daily skirmishes. Stuart, who was in command, was
tireless in his movements, bold and daring. He was almost
ubiquitous. Wherever he ought to be, there he was almost
sure to be found. He seemed able to divine and read the
pent-up thoughts and secret purposes of the enemy, and he
was ready to thwart every plan or keep his commander-in-
chief informed as to the intentions of the enemy, even be
fore the execution of them had commenced.
I was in the night attack upon Catlett Station ; it was as
dark as Erebus; the rain was coming down in blinding
sheets. We had surprised the Federal camp, and the result
was its easy capture with rich stores. Our greatest danger
was from each other in the darkness and beating rain-storm.
We lost most of the stores we captured, however, for want
of means to carry them away, and we were unable to destroy
all we could not carry away on account of the rain. We cap
tured, I think, over 300 prisoners, with many horses, which
we held.
To reach Catlett Station we had to pass around Pope's
army and get directly in his rear, and by this movement
Stuart displayed that audacity which was one of his charac
teristics that gave him fame and made the enemy fear him
so much.
CHAPTER VI
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN
One of Jackson's Ruses to Fool the Enemy — Pope is Bewildered — The
Second Battle of Bull Run — As Viewed on the Field and at the
Cyclorama in Washington — Colloquy Between a Union Woman and
a "Johnnie Reb"— Battle of Chantilly— Death of Phil Kearny— A
Tribute to his Memory.
On the 25th of August Jackson moved from JefFersonton
in Culpeper County westward, and his Valley soldiers were
rejoicing that they were returning to the green pastures and
vales of milk and honey of their beloved Valley, and would
see once more their wives and children, fathers, mothers,
sisters, and sweethearts. But it was simply one of Jack
son's tricks — it was a ruse — it was intended to deceive the
enemy. After getting a short distance beyond Amissville
on the great highway that crossed the Blue Ridge, Jackson
suddenly headed his army eastward, and then the hopes of
the Valley men fell ; but with brave yet sad hearts, sad be
cause they were turning their backs upon the land where
their loved ones dwelt, upon their homes and kindred — yet I
say with dauntless spirit, they took up the march eastward,
destined they knew not where, except they were sure Jack
son was after the enemy, with steady tread and quick step.
He marched all that hot August day, and not until near
night-fall did he go into camp. This was near Salem in
Fauquier County. The next day, instead of continuing
eastward, he changed his direction to a southeasterly course,
and moved along the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad, and
was soon in Pope's rear and on the line of his communica
tion with the Federal Capital.
Pope was bewildered by these movements. He did not
know what to expect, what he had to meet, what preparation
or what disposition to make of his army : his divisions were
scattered over a space of twelve miles, from Centerville to
Bristow ; concluding finally he had only Jackson near him
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN 47
and that he was endeavoring to escape, he ordered the at
tack; he had no idea Lee was near at hand, or that Long-
street was anywhere within striking distance.
Pope's assaults were unsuccessful, and the 2Qth of August
closed without advantage to him — though his men had
obeyed promptly every command, charged whenever or
dered, and behaved with remarkable bravery. In fact both
armies had behaved most handsomely, and with true Ameri
can courage and endurance. The next day, the 3Oth, came
the great Second Bull Run Battle, Pope on one side, Lee on
the other, each commanding in person, resulting as all know
in a Federal defeat and rout late in the afternoon, after the
most desperate fighting on both sides. The ground was in
many places literally covered with the dead and dying of the
blue and the gray. In front of where Hood with his Tex-
ans fought, the New York Zouaves lay in appalling num
bers, stark in death, their red breeches making the space
more conspicuous than any other spot on the renowned field.
They were so thick that frequently for rods you could easily
have walked upon their dead and dying bodies.
Some years ago a Cyclorama of this battle as it was wag
ing about five o'clock in the afternoon was on exhibition in
Washington, and I made one of several parties of Federal
and Confederate participants who stood before it and in low
tones, in the presence of the scene of blood, carnage, and
death, and in kindly spirit, fought the battle over. On one
of these occasions I met a party of ladies and gentlemen
from Virginia, and knowing that I had been in the battle
they requested me to tell them all I could about it. I said :
"My friends, it is true I was in this battle and in many of
the thickest and deadliest places of it, but I cannot tell you
much about it of my own knowledge, for when I was en
gaged in a battle I had as much to do in my own front and
about me as I could well do, and had little knowledge of
what was taking place on other parts of the field. I will tell
you what I saw, and know, and then I will tell you, as far
48 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
as I can after so many years, what I heard around the camp-
fires or on the march, directly after it closed, and what I have
read since.
"I have seen some soldiers who could tell you with great
minuteness every movement, every charge, every advance,
every retreat, and every repulse; in a word, soldiers who
were ubiquitous, or had eyes everywhere and had personal
knowledge of everything that occurred in an all-day fight.
But I am not one of these remarkable fellows."
The landscape and topography of the country before me,
on canvas so hung as to magnify the entire scene, were
familiar, so I gave them as quickly and quietly as possible
all I knew personally and then all I had heard and read, and
bidding them good-by, turned to join my party of friends,
but they had gone. Just then a lady who had come in
turned to an old fellow with gray hair and beard, who was
looking intently in the direction of the railroad cut in which
Jackson's men were posted, and which the Federals were
charging with great spirit and gallantry, and said: "Ex
cuse me for disturbing you, sir. Were you in this battle?"
"Yes, ma'am, I was in it." "Well, sir, I was a Union
woman; I suppose you were in the Union army." "No,
ma'am, I was what you would call a 'Johnny Reb' ; I
was in the rebel army from start to finish, and was in this
battle under Lee, and hearing of this picture I thought I
would come and see it." "Well, sir, that's all right. I have
no feelings against you rebels now; we whipped you and
we are all united again in the Providence of God, and I
hope forever." The old fellow studied a moment and said :
"You must pardon me, ma'am, but I don't think God had
much to do with this matter. Your people whipped us be
cause you had five times as many men as we had, and all the
money and rations you wanted, and I don't think I ever
heard that God gave one half-starved man the strength to
whip five fully-fed men. If he ever did, the five must have
been mighty ornery men."
The lady made no reply to this thrust, but after a pause
she said : "This must have been a terrible battle !" "Yes,
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN 49
ma'am, it was just awful ; there was a heap of men killed
and a heap of blood spilt." "I thought, sir, this was a Con
federate victory, and our men retreated." "Well, ma'am,
we did win, and the Union army did retreat." "It don't
look now like our men were going to retreat; they are
standing up to it mighty well," she said. He replied:
"You came a little too early; it is only five o'clock; you
wait until about six o'clock, and you will see your men git
up and git and make tracks as fast as greyhounds toward
Washington."
This ended the conversation, and the lady, bowing very
graciously to the old "Confed," walked to another part of
the platform. I was so much interested in the conversation
that I kept within easy earshot of it all, and as soon as I
could get an opportunity I introduced myself to the old sol
dier and asked him his name. He gave his name, which
I am sorry to say I cannot recall, and told me that he was
from North Carolina. I have given the conversation almost
literally.
This cyclorama was so interesting to me that I wanted
Mrs. O'Ferrall to see it. She, however, assured me she
had no desire to witness even on canvass the horrors of a bat
tle-field. Still I persisted, and to my regret afterwards she
visited it with me. The approach was through a long,
gloomy hall, and up steps to the platform around which the
canvas was stretched, the _scene bursting suddenly upon you
as you reached the top step.
My wife was just ahead of me, and when she caught
sight of the picture it was so realistic that it startled her
and she would have fallen back down the steps if I had
not caught her. However, she summoned her courage and
walked upon the platform ; but in a few minutes she said the
scene was making her sick, and we took our departure. The
dead and dying men, the wounded being carried from the
field, the turmoil and excitement, the flashing of the guns
and the bursting of shells were so graphically portrayed that
the picture was too much for her nerves, and it was weeks
before she recovered from the impressions that short visit
4
50 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and the view of the Second Battle of Bull Run had made
upon her.
On September i the engagement of Chantilly occurred,
in which the Federal advance under Reno was repulsed. It
took place in a driving rain, wetting the ammunition, and
causing Jackson to order the use of the bayonet, and the
Federals were driven back until darkness settled around
the contending forces. Reno, retreating, joined the main
body of Pope's army, which never stopped until it was with
in the defenses of the Federal Capital. It was at Chan
tilly that the brave and heroic General Phil Kearny, of the
Federal Army, was killed. He had distinguished himself
and had been brevetted for gallantry at Contreras and Cher-
ubusco in the war with Mexico. At Williamsburg, Seven
Pines, and Frazier's Farm his bearing was so superb that
he was promoted from a brigadier to a major-general. At
Chantilly he had ridden forward on his line to reconnoitre,
and was shot by a Confederate soldier with whom he acci
dentally met away from his command, and perhaps strag
gling or without leave.
He was a thorough soldier and accomplished gentleman,
and I was told by General Cadmus Wilcox, among the
South's bravest and best, that in Kearny's soldier life he
was never guilty of an act that would not bear the closest
scrutiny. If he was destined to fall, he deserved a more
glorious death. I think his body, sword and pistols and
personal effects were, by order of General Jackson, sent
through the lines to be delivered to his widow.
CHAPTER VII
, ADVANCE; INTO MARYLAND.
Our Cavalry Crosses the Potomac at White's Ford — I Get a Broken
Arm in a Cavalry Skirmish near Poolesville — Saved from Certain
Death by Gallant Sergeant- Major J. H. H. Figgatt— General Ashby's
Successors — Gen. William E. Jones — A Brave Federal Deserter —
Big and Gallant Colonel Funsten.
The advance into Maryland by Lee's army came after
Bull Run and Chantilly. It was undertaken, as I have un
derstood, and as I think history records, by General Lee
with grave doubts of success. He had absolute confidence
in the fighting qualities of his men, but he did not think his
army was properly equipped and prepared for an invasion
of the enemy's country. His horses were feeble; his men
were poorly clad, and in many instances shoeless. Yet he
did not think his army could afford to be idle, and he re
garded conditions as favorable except in the particulars
named.
On September 5 our infantry and artillery, with bands
playing and the men singing "Maryland, My Maryland/'
and with wild delight, commenced crossing the Potomac at
Edward's Ferry, where the river was broad but shallow. It
was here Evans, or as many think, Hunton, had achieved
victory at the Battle of Ball's Bluff, and where it is said
Wayne had crossed his Pennsylvanians in marching to
Yorktown in 1781.
The cavalry forded at White's Ford late on Saturday
evening and moved to Poolesville and camped; the next
day they moved to Urbana; on Monday they returned to
the vicinity of Poolesville, where they met the advance
cavalry of the Federal army moving to meet Lee's army. In
the encounter with this cavalry I was disabled in my right
arm by a sabre-stroke; it was broken two or three inches
above the wrist joint, and but for the timely assistance of
Sergeant-Major J. H. H. Figgatt, of my regiment, I would
52 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
have been cut down. A stalwart Federal sergeant, into
whose face I had thrust my pistol and pulled the trigger
with only the result of an exploded cap, had given me the
blow, and while I was dodging his other strokes and en
deavoring to get away from him, Figgatt dashed up, and
taking the fellow off my hands, with a well-directed blow
about the head or neck knocked him from his saddle. I
have always believed that Figgatt saved my life, for I had
not thought of surrendering, and the fellow, apparently
maddened by the narrow escape he had made from death by
the failure of my pistol to fire, seemed determined to finish
me.
Figgatt was as fine a soldier as the war produced. He
was a magnificent specimen of athletic manhood, a splendid
horseman, brave as the bravest, and always cool. He was
subsequently promoted for gallantry. From the time of
which I speak until his death, about 1896, we were fast
friends, and when he died at his home in his native town
of Fincastle I attended his funeral, and the immense turn
out of the people and the deep emotion that was displayed
attested unmistakably the love his people bore him. His
widow touched me deeply when she told me that only a
little while before he breathed his last he said, "Tell O'Fer-
rall all is well." He was a devout Christian, and all can
understand what he meant. As I was leaving the house after
he had been laid to rest in the Methodist Church-yard, his
widow gave me one of the spurs he wore on the day he
rushed to rescue me. I have it, and prize it among the
things I prize most.
The wound in my arm was too severe for me to continue
with my command, and I returned to my war home, New
Market, and did not rejoin the army until it had recrossed
the Potomac after Antietam, and then I had no use of my
arm, and had to carry it in a sling ; but it was not long be
fore I was all right again and fully ready for duty.
I shall say nothing about Antietam, as I was not, on ac
count of my wound, in that battle.
The immediate successor of General Ashby, as com-
THE ADVANCE) INTO MARYLAND 53
mander of the Ashby brigade, was General Beverly H.
Robertson, but he was shortly succeeded by General William
E. Jones. During the winter of 1862-63 this brigade
then called Jones's brigade, had quarters in the Shenan-
doah Valley in the Mount Jackson and Edenburg sections.
Its pickets held an advanced line down the Valley about
Fisher's Hill.
General Jones was a superior brigade commander; he
took the best care of his men and shared their hardships
and discomforts; he was alert, untiring, and as a fighter
he was not excelled by any officer in the army. He was a
West Pointer, but resigned and returned to his native county
of Washington, Virginia, several years prior to secession,
and was engaged in farming when Virginia called for
troops. He organized a company, the Washington
Mounted Rifles, and was assigned to the First Virginia
Regiment of Cavalry and took part in the First Battle of
Manassas, where he displayed such qualities as to attract
attention and led to his promotion to the colonelcy of the
regiment when Stuart received a brigadier's wreath upon
his collar.
Jones's brigade wintered very comfortably in their
quarters in the Mount Jackson and Edenburg neighbor
hoods, and it was active in picketing, scouting, and guard
ing the Shenandoah Valley and the section extending west
ward as far as Moorefield in Hardy County. During the
winter I received an occasional letter from my mother or
some friend at my home, near the Potomac, in Morgan
County. In one of these letters I was told that a sergeant
of a Pennsylvania regiment stationed at my home, by the
name of Flynn, intended to desert, come South and report
to me. The writer further stated that I could trust him.
I paid little attention to the matter, and it had almost passed
out of my memory, when on a cold and rainy night, about
the middle of February, as I was sitting in my Sibley tent
enjoying a warm fire and listening to the pattering of the
rain upon the sides of the tent, a sergeant of my regiment
threw up the "fly" and entered and just behind him came a
54 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
tall man in a Federal uniform with sergeant's chevrons on
his sleeves. The Confederate sergeant told me that the
man had been brought in by our pickets; that he said he
was a Federal deserter and had a letter to me, and Colonel
Harman had directed him to bring him to me. Instantly I
recalled my friend's letter, and I said to the man, who was
standing, cap in hand, towering far above all present, "Are
you Sergeant Flynn?" He replied: "Yes, sir, I am Ser
geant Flynn. I have a letter for you, Captain." He handed
me a letter ; it was from my friend at my old home. I read
it, and again I was told I could trust Flynn. That night he
spent in my tent, and it was late before we went to sleep.
He brought me much news from home.
The next morning Colonel Harman thought it would be
well for me to take the fellow to General Jones's headquar
ters, which were at Edenburg, five miles down the Valley.
Mounting him on one of my horses, we rode to the quar
ters of the brigade commander. General Jones, after I had
told him all I knew about Flynn, said to him, "Why did you
desert?" Flynn replied that he had been converted to
Southern views by some Southern women ; that he believed
the South was right and he wanted to fight for her. The
General then asked him what Federal troops were in the
lower Valley and where they were stationed. Flynn de
clined to tell, saying: "General, I must bear the odium of
being a deserter. I must take the chances of being captured
and hung. I am willing to bear this odium and take these
chances for the sake of my convictions, but I cannot give
you information which I obtained only as a Federal sol
dier." General Jones looked at him intently for some sec
onds, and then turning to me he said : "Well, this man is
the strangest deserter I ever saw. Have you faith in him?"
I replied : "I have assurances of his sincerity which I can
not disregard. I have the word of as true a Southerner as
lives and I can trust him, and I will trust him if you will
allow me. I will put him on the rolls of my own company."
He said, "All right" ; and then in a low tone, "you had bet
ter watch him."
We were about ready to mount to return to camp, when
THE ADVANCE INTO MARYLAND 55
a courier on a foaming steed announced that a body of Fed
eral cavalry had driven in our pickets and were advancing
rapidly up the pike. The General ordered the Eleventh
Regiment, under Colonel Oliver R. Funsten, which was en
camped nearby, to move at once to meet the Federal ad
vance.
He dispatched one of his aids to order the Seventh Regi
ment, which was farther off, to move as quickly and rapidly
as possible to the support of the Eleventh, and then, as he
was preparing to go himself, I asked him if I could not go
with him. He said, "Yes, but what will you do with your
Yankee?" I replied, "I will take him with me and test
him." He said, "Very well, do as you choose."
I turned to Flynn, and said, "I am going into this fight,
and I shall take you with me." He replied, "I am delighted,
but I ought to have a gray uniform." I secured a gray
overcoat for him and we started, joining the Eleventh Regi
ment as it filed out into the pike and started at a trot to meet
and engage the enemy. We encountered the Thirteenth
Pennsylvania Cavalry at Toms Brook, a hamlet about five
miles below or north of Woodstock. As soon as the enemy
was sighted Colonel Funsten ordered the charge, leading it
in person. The enemy was routed, and from there to beyond
Middletown, a distance of more than twelve miles, we kept
them on the run, making captures of men and horses and
sending them to the rear. At a single point only, Cedar
Creek, did the Pennsylvanians make any effort to rally.
There they were reinforced by a part of the First New York
Cavalry, but just at this moment almost our Seventh Vir
ginia Cavalry came up, and in the shortest time we had them
on the run again. For a mile or two Flynn was always
near me; then in the excitement of the chase I forgot all
about him, and when suddenly I thought of him and looked
about for him he was not to be seen. After the chase, which
lasted until night-fall, our regiments turned about, and at
midnight, I think, I reached my camp. The next morning
I inquired for Flynn, but he was not to be found. As the
morning wore away I became uneasy and began to feel that
56 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE;
I had been outrageously duped, and was minus a horse. But
about the middle of the afternoon, much to my delight, the
fellow came, hobbling into camp leading his horse, which
was lame. He explained to me that in the chase, near Stras-
burg, his horse had cast a shoe and become lame and he
could go no farther, and he had been compelled to walk and
lead his horse all the way back. He was covered from head
to foot with mud. He said he had captured and disarmed
many a Federal cavalryman, and he was loaded down with
pistols, carbines, and sabres, which bore testimony to the
truth of his statement. I was satisfied that he was true ; he
had been tested, and I did not hesitate to enroll him in my
company, and he proved to be a most excellent soldier ; he
was trusted anywhere and became a favorite in the regiment.
I have forgotten to say that he was a young Irishman, edu
cated, and claimed to have aristocratic blood in his veins.
His final end, which I shall notice later, was heroically
tragic.
Many of the Eleventh Pennsylvania did not stop running
until they reached Winchester. Colonel Funsten, of the
Eleventh Virginia, was an enormous man and he rode an
enormous horse, — it was necessary, — and he carried a long,
huge sabre. This story was told of him :
As one of the demoralized cavalrymen entered Winches
ter, without hat and his horse panting for breath, he was
asked what was the matter with him. He replied :
"What's the matter? Why, we met a lot of rebel cavalry
up the Valley. At the head of them was a colonel as big
as the side of a house, and he rode a horse according, and
he carried a sabre as big and long as a saw-log, and he just
swept the pike from side to side, as he came thundering
down it." This story flew from camp to camp.
Colonel Funsten was a superb soldier and a Virginian of
the first water. His men loved him, and took great pride
in speaking of him as "our big Colonel." He lived through
the war, and exemplified in his whole life the characteristics
of the highest manhood and citizenship. He died lamented
by his old followers, a host of friends, and the State he had
served and honored so well.
CHAPTER VIII
JONES'S WEST VIRGINIA RAID.
The Composition of Jones's Force — His Destination a Secret — The
First Obstacle Encountered — Our Condition on Reaching Weston —
I Buy a New Horse — Am Beaten in a Horse-Race by my Old One —
Incidents on Our Raid — An Encounter at Fairmount — Headed for
Home — We Learn of Jackson's Death.
In the early part of April, 1863, General W. E. Jones or
dered ten days' rations of jerked beef and hard tack to be
issued to his brigade, and with our haversacks filled, the
brigade consisting of the Seventh, Eleventh, and Twelfth
regiments, White's battalion, the Maryland battalion, and
Witcher's battalion, we left our winter quarters, without
wagons or artillery, and moved on through Brock's Gap in
the North Mountain; thence to Moorefield; thence to Pe
tersburg, in Grant County, where we found the South
Branch of the Potomac greatly swollen by recent rains.
Whither we were going or what object General Jones had
in view, no officer below a colonel, and surely no private sol
dier, had the slightest conception.
Though the waters of the South Branch were swift and
the fording exceedingly hazardous, we were ordered to
cross, and regiment after regiment and battalion after bat
talion plunged into the angry and dangerous torrent, and
in a few hours we were all safely across, with the exception
of three or four poor fellows who had been swept down the
stream and drowned.
We were all of course as wet as rats, but we had kept our
powder dry — our cartridge boxes and pistols were carried
above our heads as our horses swam from bank to bank.
We moved on, and as the sun was ready to set, the Seventh
Regiment, under Colonel Richard H. Dulaney, which was in
front of the Maryland battalion directly behind it, encoun
tered quite an obstacle. At the entrance to a pass in the
mountain, through which the turnpike ran, a log church and
58 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
a log school-house stood — the church on one side and the
school-house on the other side of the road. Stationed in
them were an Indiana company and a West Virginia com
pany. Colonel Dulaney leading his regiment, dashed
through between the buildings to get beyond them and pre
vent the escape of the two companies. As the regiment
charged through it was fired upon at close range from the
houses, and Colonel Dulaney and a number of his followers
were wounded.
These two companies, numbering perhaps 150 men, re
fusing to surrender, held our entire brigade of 3,500 men
off for two or more hours, and until a squad from the Mary
land battalion, under the cover of night, charged the build
ings and set them on fire — then, and not till then, did these
Indianians and West Virginians run up the white flag and
surrender; not until they were confronted with the propo
sition, "throw up or burn up." Our loss was not less than
thirty, killed and wounded. The gallant Dulaney had his
arm, right, I think, shattered. That night we encamped
in the mountain gorge.
We were still mystified as to what the movement meant,
but to abbreviate my story I will state now it culminated in
what has ever since been known as "Jones's West Virginia
Raid," striking Morgantown, Weston, Bridgeport, Rath-
bone City or Oil Town, Fairmount, Summers Court House
and other points, returning by way of Lewisburg and White
Sulphur Springs to Staunton, occupying just thirty-two
days.
When Jones's brigade reached Weston on this raid the
men were in wretched condition generally in the way of
clothing and in other respects which an old soldier can read
ily conjecture. However, we were able to secure plenty of
soap, and a river was at hand. We were also fortunate in
obtaining a large quantity of calico of all shades and fig
ures, and the fingers of many a fair hand were soon busy
making the calico up into undergarments. How many they
made I could not form the slightest idea, but enough to
supply those who needed them the most and to send us away
JONES'S WEST VIRGINIA RAID 59
feeling far better and more respectable than when we
reached the town. Soap and water and clean clothes had a
most wonderful effect, and all of us felt that John Wesley
was right when he declared that "cleanliness is, indeed, next
to godliness."
As we were returning from our West Virginia raid, my
horse, a fine dark bay, broke down at Lewisburg, and could
carry me no farther. He had cost me $800 a few weeks
before. I had therefore to supply myself with a fresh
mount, so I purchased from Mr. "Abe" Bright a good-look
ing sorrel, paying $1,000 for him, and trading my disabled
horse in at $300 as part payment.
The sorrel turned out to be a superb animal, full of met
tle, cool and brave, and as swift as an arrow from a tightly-
drawn bow. I was mounted on him at Upperville when my
lung was pierced by a carbine bullet. I fell from him, but
he never budged, and stood over me, while I laid on the
ground, and was led off by the soldiers who carried me from
the field. The attachment of a cavalryman for his horse,
particularly if he had proved to be true and faithful and
had carried his rider out of tight and dangerous places, be
came very great; and my fondness for the brave animal
that with bullets whizzing thick as hail about him would not
desert me when wounded, was almost as tender as if he had
been a friend of human flesh and blood. But in spite of my
fondness for him, I was compelled to part with him when I
had recovered sufficiently to return to the service ; by some
mishap he had become lame and I feared permanently, so
with many regrets I traded him for a dapple gray, paying
considerable boot-money.
Horse-racing was the supreme sport of cavalrymen. I
was particularly fond of it. An old gentleman who was a
great horse-racer came to my tent in the early spring of 1864
and asked me if I had anything I would like to race for a
small sum; that he had heard I had a gray that was fast.
I replied that I would give him a tilt for half a mile, and
on his saying all right, the stakes were posted.
A track was soon found and the regiment gathered to see
6O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
the race. My gray, with his rider up, was soon on the
ground; directly the old gentleman rode into the field,
mounted, to my surprise and chagrin, upon the sorrel I had
ridden at Upperville and had traded for the gray. I knew
I was beaten, for while my gray was regarded as fast, I was
satisfied the sorrel was faster, and had the wind of a fox
hound. The result was as I had mentally predicted — I lost
the race and the old gentleman rode away with his pockets
well filled with his winnings, for many of my regiment had
backed their judgment with their money that the gray would
win, and the old gentleman, whose name was Harmison,
had taken every bet that was offered him.
Horse-racing, I have said, was the principal sport of cav
alrymen when lying in winter quarters or resting for a few
days, and I have known whole companies to draw their pay
one day and lose all of it the next day in backing some par
ticular horse that had won for them in other races.
Several things occurred in Jones's raid which I will men
tion. At Oil Town we destroyed thousands of barrels of
crude oil, which we found in immense tanks as it had been
pumped from the wells. These tanks were located for
quite a distance up a depression in the hills or mountains.
Down this depression ran a stream which emptied into the
Little Kanawha River a few hundred yards below. We set
the tanks on fire and the burning fluid ran out into this
stream and was floated by it into the river, and that night
for miles the country was lit up by the burning oil, present
ing a picture I shall never forget. The loss to the operators
must have been heavy, for besides the loss of the oil, we
greatly damaged the wells and machinery. Some may say
this was inexcusable and wanton destruction of private
property. But this would hardly be a just criticism, as the
oil was being bought by the United States Government, and
the destruction was similar to the destruction of army sup
plies, which is always regarded as legitimate in war.
On this expedition and with my company and under my
command was the Yankee sergeant of whom I have spoken.
Always at his post, faithful to every duty, ever ready to
JONES'S WEST VIRGINIA RAID 6 1
perform any service and encounter any danger, he was with
us until we arrived in the vicinity of the town of Union;
there his horse broke down and he was compelled to abandon
him.
With others, who like him were compelled to leave their
horses and trudge along on foot with their saddles, bridles,
and blankets on their backs, he was making his way cheer
fully, when he discovered some horses in a field perhaps a
quarter of a mile from the road. Calling the attention of his
dismounted comrades to them, he and two others started
toward the horses. This was the last that we ever saw
of him. The sergeant and his comrades were fired upon by
citizens, and he and one of the others were mortally
wounded and carried off, but not, as stated by his comrade
who escaped, until he had emptied his carbine and every
chamber of his revolver.
I took him and trusted him upon the faith of the assur
ance that my friend, whose letter he handed me that gloomy
and dismal February night in my tent at Mount Jackson,
had given me, and every act of his, from the day he re
turned to camp foot-sore and leading his lame horse down
to the moment of his unfortunate death, was confirmation
strong of the honesty of his convictions and the sincerity
of his purposes. He was a deserter, and no doubt opposite
his name on the muster rolls at Washington is written the
word "deserted," and if he had ever been captured alive his
fate would have been that of a deserter, yet I shall always
believe he deserted because he was fighting in what he re
garded as an unjust cause against what he believed to be
a righteous cause. I can imagine no other motive.
When our brigade reached Fairmount we found a force
of Federal infantry. There I wounded and took prisoner
a young lieutenant about my own age. A ball from my
pistol hit him in his leg, inflicting a painful but not a serious
injury. As he fell I approached him, and he made himself
known to me as a member of a secret order to which I be
longed. I had him carried to a house in Fairmount, now
known as Skinner's Tavern, and made him as comfortable
62 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
as possible. While talking with him I found he had been
stationed at my home and had seen my mother and sisters.
I expressed my anxiety about them. He replied, "Captain
as soon as I can travel I will go and see your mother and
sisters and if they need anything they shall have it.'' I
thanked him, and bidding him good-by, and expressing the
hope that his wound would not trouble him much, I left
him. He kept his word and promise.
At Fairmount we headed for our Confederacy — for old
Virginia, the Valley so dear to all our hearts. When we
arrived at Lewisburg we heard of the death of Stonewall
Jackson. For more than three weeks we had been cut off
absolutely from news. We had no conception of the mo
mentous events that had been taking place in eastern Vir
ginia. Jackson's death cast the deepest gloom over the bri
gade. All hoped and prayed that it was a false report, and
yet the information seemed to be so authentic as to leave no
doubt of its truth. From Lewisburg we proceeded toward
Staunton as rapidly as the jaded condition of our horses
would permit. We were not many miles on the way before
the last lingering hope vanished that Jackson was not dead,
for we were then in a section where there was nothing but
Southern sentiment and we found mourning over the death
of the spotless hero and almost unmatched leader, in every
face and home.
At Staunton we obtained of course all the particulars of
Stonewall's death, and learned of the desperate fighting and
terrible carnage that had taken place while Jones's brigade
had been in the recesses of the West Virginia mountains
away from telegraphs and all lines of communication. We
knew nothing of Chancellorsville and the Wilderness, ex
cept the little information we had picked up on our way
from Lewisburg.
We had all lost friends, and many of them, in the fierce
engagements in the east, during our month's raid, but the
experience of more than two years had, strange to say, ac
customed and hardened us to such things. It was the fate
of war. In peace we lose friends and we mourn for them
JONES'S WEST VIRGINIA RAID 63
and think of them and long for them for months; but in
war it is different. Comrades are constantly dropping out
of the ranks, constantly passing over the river; but there
is such a whirl, events crowd upon each other so fast and the
fallen are so numerous, that a fresh wound to our feelings
to-day becomes an old wound to-morrow; the sorrow of
to-day is supplanted by the sorrow of to-morrow. Yet the
soldier in war is every day a mourner, and while he may be
gay and apparently happy, it is often an effort to drive away
misery and drown sorrow. I have seen a comrade weeping
while preparing to attend a ball, and yet be among the gay
est of the gay in the mazes of the dance. I have seen a com
rade bowed one hour in the deepest distress, and the next
hour engage in a horse-race, dance a jig, or sing a funny
camp song with exceeding gusto. It was to drive away
grief, make him forget his sorrow, if only for a brief period.
CHAPTER IX
BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION.
The Most Famous Cavalry Engagement of the war — Stuart's System
of "Grand Guard" — Ordered Forward to Beverly's Ford — See-
Sawing with the Enemy for Hours — A Charge and Clash — A Drawn
Battle — I Wound a Federal Officer and the Peculiar Outcome — A
Case of Robbery Investigated and Restitution Effected.
As soon as our brigade could rest and recruit its horses
in the clover and blue-grass fields of Augusta it joined the
cavalry corps under Stuart in the Piedmont section, and we
had plenty to do, and had many skirmishes, leading up to
the sanguinary field of Brandy Station on June 9, 1863.
This was perhaps the most famous almost strictly cavalry
engagement of the war. It was cavalry against cavalry —
a carbine, pistol, and sabre combat, with only a little artillery
firing in the early morning and an occasional cannon roar
during the day.
On the day before, our cavalry corps had been reviewed
by General Lee; the day was ideal and the ground as suit
able as could have been desired. The appearance of General
Lee as he rode in review with General Stuart, with Stuart's
black plume waving like the white plume of Henry of Na
varre, aroused the enthusiasm of the corps to the highest
pitch, and prepared them for the bloody struggle of the next
day, though we had no idea that it was to occur; yet at
that time we were ready for anything, not knowing when
we laid down at night what the breaking of the next morn
ing's dawn would bring.
General Stuart had adopted a system of having a regi
ment from each brigade on what was termed "grand guard"
while lying in camp; that is, the horses were kept saddled
and bridled and the men by them, day and night, so that the
regiment could move at a moment's notice in case of an
emergency.
On the evening of the review, June 8, my regiment,
OF BRANDY STATION 65
the Twelfth, under Colonel Harman, its colonel, went on
grand guard, and we all laid down that night by our sad
dled and bridled horses, with our boots on, and sabres and
pistols buckled around us and our carbines by our sides,
with nothing to do in case we were called up but to strap our
blankets on our saddles, mount our horses, and fall into line.
On the ninth, before the sun had risen high enough to
reflect its rays upon our camp, the sound of a cannon was
heard in our front in the direction of Beverly's Ford on the
Rappahannock. Instantly our regimental bugle sounded
the call to mount; the men sprang out of their blankets,
and I am sure in less than ten minutes the regiment was in
line awaiting orders. A fellow in the line remarked that
such an early rising was not good for a man's liver, but we
would knock the livers out of the disturbers of our rest as
soon as we could get at them. We did not have to wait
long for our orders. They came to us by a courier from
General Jones mounted on a fleet-footed thoroughbred, and
they were to quickly move to the front, which meant to
Beverly's Ford. The enemy's cavalry had crossed the Rap
pahannock during the preceding night and were advancing.
Colonel Harman led his regiment in a trot and gallop until
he discovered the enemy's cavalry in a piece of woods be
yond an open and clear field three or four hundred yards in
front. He ordered me to deploy my squadron, the first,
Company B (Lieutenant Rouss commanding) and Company
I, my company, and advance upon the woods, telling me
he would support me with the remaining four squadrons of
the regiment. I obeyed his command and moved my skir
mish line over the open space. The enemy made no dem
onstration until my line was almost within the edge of the
woods, when they let drive a galling fire, checking my ad
vance, killing and wounding several of my men and horses.
At the same time they rushed upon us as thick as angry bees
from a hive when stirred. But Colonel Harman was up
with the other four squadrons of the Twelfth, and the fight
became close, fast and furious; but bein^ in far greater
numbers they drove us back to a hill in the field, where rein-
5
66 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
forcements came to us, and \ve drove them back to the cover
of the woods. Several times was this repeated. We would
drive them into the woods and then they would rally and
drive us to the hill. For hours this see-sawing was kept
up. Finally, after we had driven them the fourth or fifth
time to their rallying point, they showed no disposition to
charge again, and we fell back to the hill. As may \vell be
imagined, these various charges and counter-charges were
not without heavy cost to both sides, and no decided advan
tage, so far as we could see, had been gained by either.
Lieutenant Randolph was severely wounded — a fearless of
ficer. We held our line on the hill for some time, how long
I could hardly approximate — I think, however, as late in the
evening as three or four o'clock.
While we were fighting, and in fact while we were sitting
on our horses on the hill waiting, fighting was going on to
the right and left of us. But the enemy had disappeared
from our front. Suddenly we were ordered to the rear, and
the speed at which our colonel was leading us satisfied me
that we were badly needed somewhere, but where I did not
know or have the slightest conception. When we had gone
some distance we saw a Confederate officer sitting on his
horse by a piece of artillery on elevated ground, waving us
on; we quickened our already rapid pace and soon reached
him. I was riding at the head of my squadron, the first,
which was the head of the regiment, with the colonel. The
officer pointed out to us two regiments of cavalry drawn up
in columns of squadrons, evidently waiting for us ; they had
no doubt seen us approaching from some point, as the coun
try was entirely open and unobstructed. Forming squadron
front we charged; the Federal cavalry also charged. The
two forces met; sabres flashed, crossed and clashed, pistols
rang. In a few minutes White's battalion, led by its daunt
less and intrepid commander, Colonel E. V. White, — who
is still living, an honored and esteemed citizen of Leesburg,
— came with a rush, and the result was the Federal force
sullenly withdrew, leaving us in charge of the field.
BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION 67
It was a drawn battle — neither had a victory, neither
could claim any decided advantage. Both sides had won tro
phies for gallantry and courage; each had proved itself
worthy of the other's steel. In this fight Colonel Harman
of my regiment was wounded and captured. He was as
courageous as any man who wielded a Southern sabre; his
favorite and almost only command, in the presence of the
enemy, was "charge."
While the battle was raging the hottest I wounded a Fed
eral officer who was leading his men in magnificent style.
He fell from his horse, and being very close to me, in fall
ing he caught me by the coat and clinging to it came very
near pulling me from my saddle. I tried to break his hold
and get rid of him, but he held my coat in his grasp as if it
were in a vise; finally I tapped him on the head with the
butt of my pistol and he dropped to the ground. That night
I heard in camp that a certain member of my company had
a fine gold watch which he had taken from the pocket of a
dead Federal cavalryman after the battle.
I had never known an instance of the robbery of a pris
oner, wounded or not, by any member of my company, and
if I had ever heard of such conduct by any man under my
command, I would have gone to the length of my tether in
punishing him. The idea of taking from the dead always
grated upon my feelings, yet I was ready to excuse the sol
dier who did it, rather than bury the effects with the dead.
I was not therefore disposed to disturb my man who had
taken this watch from a dead body.
The Confederate wounded and the Federal wounded who
had been left on the field were carried to Brandy Station,
where there were some large buildings built of plank, for the
storage of the tithes of grain and produce gathered under
an act of the Confederate Congress. On the morning of
the loth I rode to the Station to look after the wounded of
my own squadron. After I had seen them and done all
that I could for their comfort, and was about to leave the
hospital, an attendant told me that a wounded Federal officer
at the other end of the building wanted to see me. Going
68 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
with the attendant, he conducted me to a cot of a soldier
who had a bandage around his head. As I approached him
he raised himself slightly on his elbow and said, "I under
stand you are the man who shot me yesterday, and then
after wounding and disabling me, hit me on the head with
your pistol."
I answered, "Yes, I reckon I am the man." To which
he replied, "Well, I just wanted to tell you that the shooting
was all right, but a brave man would not have hit me as
you did, after I was helpless." I said : "I only struck you
when I failed to break your grip on my coat. I had to get
away from you or be killed or captured ; with you hanging
to me I was helpless to defend or take care of myself, and as
it was I barely made my escape. You ought to be thankful
that I did not shoot you again. I am sorry I had to hit you.
Did I hurt you much? I hope not, either by my shot or
blow." He could not see it as I saw it, still insisting that
a brave man would not have hit him, and finding that he
was in an angry mood and not inclined to tell me anything
about the extent of his injury, I turned to leave, when he
said, "You not only treated me as you did, but one of your
men robbed me." I said, "You say that one of my men
robbed you." He said, "I do not know that it was one of
your men, but it was a rebel cavalryman ; he took my pocket
book and my watch." Instantly it occurred to me that it
was really one of my men who was the guilty party. I
asked him to describe his watch and tell me how much
money had been taken from him. He described the watch,
and then pausing he said, "I am not sure he took my pocket-
book — I was so weak and dazed — but I know he got my
watch, for I hung on to the chain and he jerked it away
from me." I said, "Well of course I do not know who has
your watch, but I will make an effort to recover it for you,
and if I find it you will see me again. Good-day."
On my return to camp, I sent for my man who had the
watch "taken from a dead man." He reported to me
promptly, and as he approached me I saw a handsome gold
chain suspended from his jacket pocket. I said, "I hear
BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION 69
you got a gold watch yesterday after the fight, off the per
son of a dead man. I would like to see it." Without hesi
tation he drew it from his pocket and handed it to me. I
found the case answered the description that had been given
me. I opened it and there were the identical words, "From
father," which the wounded man had told me were in his
watch; the chain was also in accordance with the descrip
tion I had of it.
I said to the man, "I am sorry you have disgraced your
self and reflected on your company. You are, I believe, the
first man of my company who has ever robbed a wounded
man. I shall keep this watch and return it to its owner,
who is in the hospital at Brandy Station."
He declared he thought the man was dead or about dead
when he took the watch, and denied taking the pocket-book.
I told him the officer said he had taken the watch by force;
this he also denied. I reprimanded him severely and threat
ened to court-martial him if I ever heard of his robbing a
prisoner, wounded or not, again.
I delivered the watch to the owner the same evening I
recovered it. His entire demeanor changed. He thanked
me time and again for recovering his watch; repeat
edly begged me to pardon him for his harsh language
in the morning; told me about his wound, which while se
vere was not dangerous, and we parted, as he expressed it,
"good friends." For many years I preserved his name and
rank on a slip of paper upon which he had written them, but
I have lost the slip, and I am unable to recall either. The
affair was so soon over and my effort to extricate myself
from him and get away so vigorous I did not notice his rank,
or if I did I do not remember it. I hope yet to find the slip
with his name and rank on it.
CHAPTER X
UPPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS.
Twelve Days of Almost Continuous Cavalry Fighting — Major Von
Borcke — A Drink of "Mountain Dew" — Two Wishes for Wounded
Furloughs and What Came of Them— The Fight at Upperville— I
Receive a Supposed Mortal Wound — The Brave Timberlakes — Told
That I Would Die— The Roar of Gettysburg Heard a Hundred
Miles Away — A Man Who Would Not Fight — Happenings While
Recovering — My War Home — Fate of Lieutenant Buck — A Brave
Color-Bearer — Charles Broadway Rouss — Stuart's Raid Around the
Federal Army.
From June 9, Brandy Station, until the 2ist, there were
continuous cavalry engagements of immense magnitude and
with the most bloody consequences. The names of Aldie,
Middleburg, and Upperville were raised from obscurity and
made historic. These fields, especially the last named, will
figure in all time to come as the scenes of as desperate cav
alry fighting as the wrorld has ever seen. Lee's army was
on its Gettysburg advance, and the main body was moving
toward the Potomac by way of the Shenandoah Valley,
and our cavalry was engaged in covering its movements,
while the Federal cavalry were active and alert in an effort
to discover the movements that were being made and to
search out the purposes of Lee. We were guarding all gaps
and passes in the Blue Ridge Range for miles and obscuring
the course our army was taking and concealing the design
of our immortal Commander-in-Chief. We succeeded well,
but it was an arduous job, crimsoned with human gore.
At Aldie the lion-hearted Major Von Borcke, a Prussian
soldier \vho was serving on General Stuart's staff, was most
seriously wounded. He was a man of immense proportions
and a Hercules in strength, and delighted to charge with his
heavy sabre raised above his head ready to descend with ter
rific force upon any enemy that might be so unfortunate as
to come within his reach, rather than use his pistol. In
stances of death or severe wounding from the stroke or
UPPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS 7 1
thrust of the sabre were comparatively few, but Von Borcke
did far more execution with his bright and gleaming blade
than he did with his pistol, and I do not believe there was a
soldier on either side whose record for sabre execution could
compare with that of this noted Prussian dragoon as he
flashed his blade under the rustling folds of the stars and
bars. He recovered ultimately from his wound and lived to
the end of the struggle, and then, with a heart sad over the
defeat of the South, he returned to his native land.
I shall only speak specifically of Upperville, as it is more
indelibly impressed upon my memory than either Aldie or
Middleburg, for it was there I received what was regarded
at the time by the surgeons who saw me as a surely mortal
wound.
On the night of the 2Oth of June my squadron was on
picket at what was called the Pot House. It was a stormy
night, and when we were ordered to join our regiment
the next morning we were as wet as if we had been dipped
in a river. As we were getting ready to mount, Capt. Albert
Swindler, of Company G, who had been picketing near me,
sent for my canteen; when it was returned to me it was
full of what he called "mountain dew," distilled from pine
tops. I drank some of it; it was as strong as aqua fortis,
and pretty stimulating; all of my men who wanted it took
a draught, until there was very little left, but that little
proved to be of great benefit before the day closed, as will
hereafter appear.
The regiment was gathered together, and we marched in
the direction of Upperville. On the march Lieut. Walter
Buck, of the Seventh Regiment, who had been detailed to
gather forage for his regiment, joined and rode with me.
He knew most of my men, as they were from his county.
As we rode along chatting, we both expressed a desire to see
home folks, but we concluded there was no chance unless
we could get a wounded furlough, and we both expressed
a willingness to receive a little wound so that we could see
our loved ones. I had an intimation that General Lee was
bound for Maryland, "My Maryland," and if so, a slight
72 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
wound would give me an opportunity of looking in on my
mother and sisters at home. In half-play and half-earnest
we discussed the kind of a wound we would like ; he wanted
his in the leg so his arms would be free to embrace the girls
who would greet him, if they would let him ; I decided to
take mine in the arm, so that I would have my legs to get
away on, in the event it became necessary in the Union coun
try in which my home was located. All this time we could
hear firing in front of us, and we were sure that we would
soon be in the fight; neither of us ever dreamed what ter
rible fortune to both was just ahead, and that in a very
short time he would receive his everlasting furlough and I
would be left for dead on the field. Still it was just what
happened.
When our regiment got to Ayer's farm, near Upperville,
we found our front absolutely blue with cavalry and in
fantry. Dividing the field we were in and a field the enemy
occupied ran a road, with a stone fence on either side, in
which there was an occasional gap.
I was ordered to charge the enemy. I gave the command
and away we went, until we struck the lane, and there we
had to stop and engage the enemy with our carbines and
pistols. In the meantime the enemy had been pouring a
galling fire into our ranks, and our men and horses were
falling fast. I do not think we were there more than ten
minutes when I was ordered to fall back, and as I was form
ing my company to take it off in order, I was struck by a
carbine ball which pierced my left chest. Motioning — I
could not speak — to Lieutenant Rouss, or Baylor, I have for
gotten which, to take command, I fell limp and unconscious
from my saddle. I was, however, sufficiently conscious to
feel my men unbuckling my sabre and pistols to take them
away with them. I have no recollection of what occurred
from that moment until I was aroused to partial conscious
ness by violent pain, and I found myself astride of a horse,
with strong arms around me, going at a rapid trot over a
rough road, and a man riding on either side, aiding in keep
ing my limp body on the horse.
AND INCIDENTS 73
They carried me to a house near the base of the Blue
Ridge and left me, as they supposed, to die. Their only pur
pose had been to save my body, and they had risked their
lives to do it, and it has always been a wonder to me how
they all escaped uninjured, for myriads of bullets, I have
been told, were fired at them.
The soldier who carried me from this field was Sergeant
Seth M. Timberlake, of Company B of my squadron of
the Twelfth Cavalry. He was one of a large family by his
name who lived in Frederick, Clarke, and Jefferson Coun
ties. As to the two assistants, there has always been a dis
pute.
The Timberlake family furnished, I am sure, as many
soldiers to the Confederate Army as any family in the
South, and they were nearly all in the cavalry. If I were
called upon to name the bravest family, numbers considered,
I knew or heard of in the Army of Northern Virginia, I
would without a moment's hesitation name the Virginia
Timberlakes. More than a dozen households were repre
sented in the army, and without an exception they were
brave and true to their very marrow. I firmly believe if a
thousand Timberlakes could have been martialed on the
banks of the Potomac, well mounted and equipped, and put
under the command of a Timberlake, and ordered to the
Commons of Boston, some of them would have reached that
historic ground unless they had fallen on the way. Nothing
short of death or disabling wounds would have checked
them.
Sergeant Seth M. Timberlake, to whom I have referred
above as the soldier who carried me from the Upperville
field, took one chance in a hundred of escaping death when
he returned to me. He still lives, and is connected with the
house of Charles Broadway Rouss of New York, and re
tains as a war relic his old McClellan saddle with my blood
stains on its skirts. He is now far down on the shady side
of life, but the spirit of the Timberlakes still lives with him.
May God lengthen his days far beyond man's allotted time.
The surgeon of my regiment was sent to me at the house
74 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
on the mountain slope. He found the ball had passed
through the sack of my heart, just escaping it as it was con
tracting, and ranging slightly upward had come out about
midway between the point of my shoulder-blade and spinal
column, lodging, somewhat warped and twisted, in the pad
ding of my coat. He told me that I could not live, and if I
had any preparations to make he thought I had better make
them. He was a brusque, abrupt fellow, and by no means a
favorite in the regiment. His remark or information irri
tated me, and I said, "You don't know what you are talking
about; I intend to live, and the only preparation I shall
make will be to get well, and I will try and get some other
surgeon." This statement is substantially, if not exactly,
correct.
I received my wound about five o'clock in the afternoon;
it was about eight when I was coolly told I must die. I
was very weak from the loss of blood, and I was suffering
pain from the wind sucking through my lung whenever I
breathed, so I asked the lady of the house to give me some
thing to plug up the hole with. Instead, however, she
brought a piece of cotton cloth of several thicknesses, wet
with water, and laid it over my wound. This gave me in
stant relief, and in a few moments I dropped off to sleep
and slept perhaps an hour. When I awoke I felt stronger
and better. The night passed and the day dawned and I
was still alive, to the surprise of the surgeon, who spoke
of my wonderful vitality and said I had a good fighting
chance to get well. He then bade me good-by and said an
other surgeon would look after me. This was agreeable
news to me — his departure and the coming of another sur
geon.
The substituted surgeon was Doctor Thomas Settle, sur
geon of the Eleventh Regiment, whose home was at Upper-
ville. He took me in hand and gave me the most careful at
tention. His presence in my chamber was a benediction ;
his face was like a sunbeam; his voice, soft and mellow,
was like music to my ear. On Wednesday, three days after
I was shot, my mother, unexpectedly but to my supreme
AND INCIDENTS 75
joy, reached me. In twenty-four hours she had driven about
sixty miles, over rough roads, through swollen streams and
the darkness of night, and was on her knees at the bedside of
her first born and "Confederate soldier-boy." She relieved
the sweet woman who had been ministering with the tender
ness of a sister to my wants. As I laid flat on my back in
my bed I heard distinctly the roar of the cannon at Gettys
burg, a hundred miles away. I did not know where it was,
but I knew it was the resounding of cannon, and that a
great battle was in progress somewhere beyond the waters
of the Potomac. The sound kept me stirred and excited,
so Dr. Settle, under the pretense of being afraid I would
catch the ear-ache, to which I had been subject before leav
ing home, stuffed cotton in my ears to deaden the sound.
I had in my company one man who would not fight; he
would do any duty but fight; he would flunk every time
there was any danger and keep out of harm's way. In the
evening at Upperville as we were about to make our charge,
and I was riding to the front of the squadron, I saw this
man, whom I shall call Smith, in the rear file of the squad
ron. His face was as long as a fence rail and he was snuff
ing danger in the air. I determined that he should go into
that fight, so I detailed Sergeant James Grubbs, of Warren
County, who knew nothing but to obey orders, to take Smith
into that charge and keep him in the fight as long as it
lasted. I thought no more of the matter until about candle
light that night when, lying on a mattress on the floor
of the mountain home, to which I had been carried,
all at once I saw Smith bending over me apparently deeply
affected. I spoke to him in feeble tones. He said, "Captain,
I am mighty sorry to see you are wounded. Are you much
hurt, Captain?" I replied, "Yes, but I will pull through."
"Well, Captain," he said, "that was the hottest place I was
ever in. I had that fine sorrel mare of mine killed down
there near the stone fence, and a bullet burnt my b y
clear across, just there," pointing to the place. The ser
geant had obeyed his orders and put him in the fight, but
Smith made no allusion to that fact.
76 I'ORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Morgan County did not furnish more than twenty sol
diers to the Confederate Army. Among them was John
son Orrick, the delegate in the Secession Convention, whose
father had been a prominent citizen and a successful farmer.
Orrick enlisted in some company which I cannot at this
time recall. As soon as I became a captain he secured a
transfer to my company, with which he remained until the
Maryland Campaign of 1862 was over, when he was ap
pointed quartermaster of an infantry regiment — the Thirty-
third.
Our fathers were about the same age, had been friends in
their boyhood, and warm personal and political friends in
their young manhood, and until "God's finger touched them
and they slept." Each had been married twice, and each
had attended the other's weddings. In February, 1856, they
were both taken sick the same day and almost the same
hour; they died within a few hours of each other; they
were buried the same day, one in the forenoon, the other in
the afternoon, in different cemeteries, six miles apart. Dif
ferent ministers of different religious denominations
preached the sermons respectively, and without any under
standing between them they took the same text :
"And as it is appointed unto men, once to die, and after
this the judgment."
On the 2ist day of June, 1863, at five o'clock in the af
ternoon I was wounded at Upperville ; almost the same mo
ment Johnson Orrick was wounded in Maryland, for al
though he was a quartermaster, he was "a fighting quarter
master." In a few days he died, while I was hovering upon
the brink of eternity. I shall never, no never, forget the
impression his death made upon my mother. She recalled
the facts in connection with the lives and deaths of our
fathers, of our entering the army together and being
wounded at the same moment. Her soul sank within her,
for she felt that the hand of fate that seemed to have held
father to father, and son to son, so closely together would
not be withdrawn, and that I must soon die. But God in
His Infinite Wisdom stayed the hand from day to day, and
AND INCIDENTS 77
her face began to brighten and her hope to strengthen, and
I broke the spell which seemed to have followed long,
and lived. Never while life lasts will I forget the joy that
lit up the face of my mother when my surgeon told her I
had passed the crisis and would recover.
Under the splendid care of Dr. Settle, one of the most
skilful and succesful surgeons in the Army, and the watch
fulness and excellent nursing of my mother, I began to im
prove and gather strength, and in less than a month after I
was hurt I rode six miles on horseback across the Blue Ridge
to escape capture by a Federal raiding party, crossed the
Shenandoah River in a boat as the raiders appeared, and
made a dash to the river, and taking command of some Con
federates who had been left there to guard the ferry, opened
fire upon the raiders and drove them back. I was of course
very weak, but the occasion inspired and strengthened me
while the firing was going on, but when we had driven the
raiders off and prevented them from destroying the ferry
boats, I almost collapsed, and was put into a buggy and
driven about three miles to Millwood, where I was cheer
fully received into the home of Mr. James Ryan, and in a
few days, through the kind nursing and ministrations of
Mrs. Ryan, I felt strong enough to stand a drive to Win
chester and there found quarters with Mr. Robert C. Gustin,
who was a Southern refugee from my West Virginia home,
and a friend from my boyhood. Here I had a relapse and
was perhaps as near death's door as when I was first
wounded, and for days I lingered on the brink of eternity.
Surgeons held their consultations and they all agreed my
condition was exceedingly critical. I believe everybody
thought I would die, but myself; I never had any other idea
than that I would live. My mother had come on and had
again taken charge of me. Among the surgeons called in
consultation was Dr. Hunter McGuire, whose after fame
was not confined to the limits of this land, but extended to
foreign lands. His statue in bronze now stands in the beau
tiful Capitol Square at Richmond.
A year or two before he died Dr. McGuire published some
of his war reminiscences, and among them he mentioned
78 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
his visit to me in Winchester. He said when he stepped up
to my bedside and saw where the places of entrance and
exit of the ball were he remarked, " 'Why, O'Ferrall, that
ball ought to have hit your heart ; how did it come to miss
it?' " and I replied, " 'It didn't strike my heart, Doctor, be
cause my heart was in my mouth.' '
As soon as I could be moved with safety I was sent up
the Valley in an ambulance, with a young sister of mine and
one of my company, Alfred Ferguson, now an honored citi
zen of Winchester, whose war record is as untarnished as a
descending flake of snow, and a man true in all the rela
tions of life. At New Market, my war home, the door of
Jacob Clinedinst was thrown wide open to me as the ambu
lance stopped in front. From this entire family I received
the kindest attention, but I would be false to my own feel
ings if I did not mention especially one of the young ladies
of the household, Miss Eliza. She was as a ministering
angel to me ; every wish, whim, or caprice of mine she grat
ified; every dainty that could tempt my appetite was pre
pared for me by her own hand ; my room was kept redolent
with flowers. She took turns with my sister in reading to
me, and nothing that she thought would give me pleasure
or relieve the tedium of my confinement escaped her. She
was an enthusiastic Southern girl, ready to serve the cause
in every possible way. For some years she has been the
wife of a Mr. Crim, of New Market, and believes as firmly
now that the South was right as she did forty years ago.
When I had recovered sufficiently to get about I was in
vited by Mr. Amos Crabill to stay with him. I accepted the
invitation and think I remained with him until I was ready
to return to duty about the middle of September. Mr. Cra
bill could not have treated me more kindly if I had been his
own son.
It would delight me much if I could speak at length of
New Market. I have called it my war home. My own
home, as I have said, was within the enemy's country. The
people of New Market nursed me three different times when
wounded. Every house was open to me. I knew every
body and everybody knew me.
AND INCIDENTS 79
The whole town was loyal to the core, and sent her
full quota to the Army, and without an exception, as
far as I ever knew or heard, her soldiers reflected
credit upon themselves and the flag under which
they fought. The Rice battery was recruited from
this town and surrounding country, and it became
famous for its splendid services and fighting qualities.
Its commander, Captain William H. Rice, lost a leg, but he
survived the war, and still lives an honored citizen of Shen-
andoah County. The Henkels, Zirkels, Shirleys, Neffs,
Rices, Williamsons, Hoovers, Prices, Moffets, and scores of
other families I could mention were as loyal to the cause of
the South as were the patriots of '76 to the cause of the
Colonies. It was at New Market that the last armed body
of Confederate soldiers disbanded.
Having now given, in perhaps too full detail, what fol
lowed my expressed desire for a "furlough wound" at Up-
perville, I come to the fate of my dear comrade, Lieutenant
Buck, who expressed a like desire. When we made the
charge he was by my side in the front of the squadron. He
was a tall, handsome young fellow, near my age; he was
well mounted, and was a typical Southern cavalryman; he
had been trained by Ashby the first year of the war, and
had won his lieutenant's spurs by his chivalry and daring.
I do not remember seeing him at the stone fence, but he
was there, as attested by his dead body. I was told he saw
me fall and started to me, when he was struck by a ball and
instantly killed. So, as I have said, we both received
wounds — " furlough wounds"; his wound furloughed him
forever, mine for months, and almost eternally. His body
was recovered and buried at his home in Warren County,
and on no mound should grass grow greener or roses bloom
sweeter than upon his grave. He added a leaf to the laurel
wreath of the Bucks, whose members in the Confederate
Army were many, every one of whom was entitled to a
medal of honor. It was most truly a family of fighters.
For some time prior to the Battle of Upperville the color-
bearer of the Twelfth Cavalry was Tom Garber, a member
8O FORTY YEARS Of ACTIVE SERVICE
of my company. Colonel Harman was Tom's cousin, and
when Tom came to the regiment he asked his advice as to
what company he should join, and the Colonel told him he
thought Company I would suit him, so he enlisted in my
company.
It did not take me long to determine of what metal he was
made. In a fight he was in his element, and the hotter it was
the better he liked it. He was only seventeen years of age,
yet he was over six feet in height, splendidly built, and much
more mature every way than most boys of his age. He
had been raised in the saddle and was a superb rider, A
vacancy occurred in the color sergeancy of the regiment —
how it occurred I do not now remember, and Tom applied
for the position and it was given to him, and never in any
war, on any field, were the colors of an army more grandly
and heroically borne.
He entered the charge at Upperville in the van, with his
colors streaming in the breezes above his head as he charged
down the field to the stone fence. There under the rain of
lead he stood waving the stars and bars until just as I was
shot, when he reeled in his saddle, and still clinging to his
flag staff he fell to the ground dead. He was a brother of
Major A. H. Garber, of Richmond, whose record as the
commander of Garber's battery is too well known to require
any encomiums from me. Of all the brave and intrepid
boys whom it was my pleasure and privilege to observe dur
ing the four years of strife, I never saw one who was the
superior of Tom Garber ; and as brave and dashing as our
cavalrymen were generally, I do not detract from them
when I declare that I recall comparatively few who were
his equals, taking him all in all. He rests in Thornrose
Cemetery at Staunton, beneath the sod of old Augusta, and
while she can boast of many gallant sons, she had none
more gallant than the young color-bearer of the Twelfth
Cavalry who yielded up his life at Upperville.
The unique Charles Broadway Rouss served as a private
in Company B (Baylor's company), which, with my com-
AND INCIDENTS 8 1
pany (I), composed the squadron I commanded from
August, 1862, to June, 1863 — it was the First Squadron of
the Twelfth Regiment of Virginia Cavalry.
Milton P. Rouss, a younger brother, was first lieutenant
of Company B, and made a reputation for energy and dar
ing surpassed by no officer in the regiment. Charles Broad
way, the second name having been assumed by him some
time after he located in the city of New York "as poor as a
church mouse," was in many respects a most remarkable
man. He possessed as much determination and will-power
as any man I have ever known.
The word "fail" he had stricken out of his vocabulary,
and over it he had written in living letters the word "suc
cess." Starting business as a stranger and without friends
or financial aid amid the busy throng and seething masses
of the metropolis of this immense country, in the course of
a few years he became a prominent figure in the mercantile
circles of the vast city. He continued year by year to grow
in prominence and wealth until his recent death, when his
estate was rated among the millions. While success was
attending him in every venture or undertaking he lost none
of his love for his old State or war comrades. Without
ostentation or trumpeting, but quietly and without display,
he contributed liberally to aid his impoverished people and
to erect public buildings, and met the calls of charity with
out stint. He made a handsome donation to the University
of Virginia, founded by Thomas Jefferson, from whose
walls have walked forth thousands who have made their
mark in the councils of the nation, at the bar, in the pulpit,
and in the arts and sciences, and in war.
He remembered his comrades who in the din of battle had
proved themselves worthy to stand among the South's true
and loyal defenders, and his pay-rolls will show the names
of hundreds to whom he had given employment and succor
in their days of need. With his soul still burning with
Southern fervor he announced several years ago his readi
ness to contribute $100,000 toward the erection of a Con
federate Museum, and before long a grand and magnificent
6
82 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
structure will be erected in the City of Richmond as a mon
ument to the heroism and devotion, sufferings and sacrifices
of the Southern people in the cause they loved well and bap
tized copiously with their blood.
In 1895, at the Confederate Reunion in Richmond, I in
vited Mr. Rouss to attend the meeting and be my guest. I
received a reply, written in his peculiar style, so familiar to
the whole country. Spelling phonetically, he expressed his
regret that his blindness would deprive him of all pleasure
if he attended, and for that reason he declined my invitation
with hearty thanks.
This space has been given to this imperfect tribute to
Charles Broadway Rouss because I have felt that he de
served a place in these reminiscences. He was a member
of my squadron, a faithful soldier, a loyal son of Virginia,
and a devoted lover of the cause which, though lost, is gar
landed with glories.
Rouss, as I have just said, was a member of the squadron
I commanded. I love to write of this squadron and the
men who made it famous. It was the charging squadron of
the Twelfth Regiment, and when leading it in a charge I
never thought of looking back to see whether it was follow
ing me with closed ranks and every man in his place, for I
knew all were, except two, who I was sure would shirk and
skulk. One of these I have already mentioned, withholding
his real name for the sake of his kin; the other was a fel
low whom I had never known to get within range of a bul
let as long as he was under my command. But the time
came when skulking \vould not avail him. It was on Gen
eral Stuart's remarkable raid around the Federal Army. Of
course nobody except Stuart himself and a select few had
the slightest idea of his purpose.
The venture is known to have been one of the most
hazardous of the war, and its success was regarded as a
marvel. The Federal cavalry in immense numbers were
soon upon his trail, and finally in his front and rear and on
his flanks — in a word he was surrounded, and time and
again he had to cut his way out. This skulker was with
UPPERVILIvE AND INCIDENTS 83
his command, frightened almost to death, but he could not
skulk, there was no rear to which he could fall back as he
had always done and secure saftey, so in his desperation he
began to fight, and he continued to fight until the raid ended
and I was told that thenceforward to Appomattox he was as
good a fighter as the squadron had in its ranks. It is the
only instance I ever heard of a man who had for three
years displayed the most abject cowardice being sud
denly transformed into a brave man. It was a piece of
transformation which I must leave to a wiser head than
mine to explain.
In my squadron was a small, fair-haired young fellow, —
a private, — modest, sweet-tempered, lovable, always at his
post, never seeking promotion and seemingly not caring for
it — who was destined to rise to pinnacles of fame in the
walks of peace. He became a prominent lawyer, a dis
tinguished member of Congress, and Postmaster-General
of the United States, and at his death was President of
Washington and Lee University.
It was William Lyne Wilson, of whom additional mention
will be made in the second part of this book.
Where the discharge of duty was so universal, as in my
squadron, it would seem to be invidious to select a few for
special reference, but at the risk of being charged with par
tiality there are some of my men whom I shall pick out for
tributes, which no member of my squadron can say are not
worthily and truthfully bestowed.
Among the best all-around soldiers in my squadron were
privates Tim Baylor, Bob Wright, Charlie Crane, John
Chew, Will Thomson, and Frank Manning, of Company
B — the first three of whom were killed; Sergeant James
Grubbs, Corporals Bushrod Rust and Enoch Lake, and Pri
vate Lewis Coverstone, of Company I. They were always
ready for any duty; no danger ever appalled them; no
venture, however perilous, ever daunted them; they de
lighted in the charge; they were steady and firm in the
standing firing line, cool and nervy under the most trying
circumstances. They were always well mounted, they took
84 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
excellent care of their horses and equipment (a prime duty
with a cavalryman), and day and night they were quick to
respond to any call.
Corporal Rust was not more than a lad in age and size,
but he was a full-fledged man in all the attributes of a true
soldier. He is still living, a beloved citizen of the City of
Roanoke, Virginia. May God lengthen his days and pre
serve him long to his people, whose confidence and esteem
he possesses to the fullest degree.
Occasionally there would be a truce on the picket line and
there would be no firing. In the wrinter of 1862-63 I was on
picket below Charlestown near Halltown on the Harpers
Ferry Pike. Between the lines a creek of clear, cool water
from springs crossed the pike and wended its course to the
Shenandoah. Often I have ridden forward with two or
three of my boys, during these truces, to this creek and met
the officer in charge of the Federal picket line with an equal
number with him, and while our horses were drinking the
sparkling waters we would converse and probably exchange
newspapers, the boys in gray trading tobacco to the boys
in blue for sugar or coffee. Several times I met Captain
(afterwards Major) Vernon, of a Maryland cavalry bat
talion, a handsome fellow, and as gallant and brave as he
was handsome.
Some time after these truce meetings had ended, in a
charge which he was splendidly leading, Vernon lost an
eye from a Confederate bullet. In the spring of 1864 he
made a dash up the Shenandoah Valley, and at Edenburg
took one of the companies (I) of my regiment, commanded
by Captain H. H. Riddleberger, late United States Senator
and recently a prominent figure in Virginia politics, entirely
by surprise, and captured many of the horses of the com
pany, and carried them safely to his camp in the lower Val
ley. He was so energetic and bold that we were compelled
to keep a watch out and be vigilant lest "Vernon's cavalry"
would steal a march on us and catch us napping.
During one of the Republican Administrations of Nation
al affairs in later years Vernon was appointed to an import-
AND INCIDENTS 85
ant Federal position — collector of customs, I think — at the
Baltimore port, which he filled with perfect satisfaction, as I
was informed. I am under the impression that he is still
living and that he resides in Frederick City, Maryland.
There was nothing that exemplified more fully the fact
that there was no malice in the hearts of the soldiers of the
two sides — one toward the other — than the meetings I have
just described. The men were as chummy as circumstances
would permit ; there were no cross words spoken, no crim
ination or re-crimination; and yet perhaps in less than an
hour they would be eagerly engaged in an effort to kill or
maim each other. Such is war,
"That mad game the world so loves to play."
CHAPTER XI
PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY.
Promoted to Major and Authorized to Raise Battalion of Cavalry —
Picket and Scout Duty — An Experience with some Reinforcements
— My Command Merged into the Twenty-third Regiment of Cavalry
— The Scarcity of Horses and Some Prices — A Raid on My Old
Home — Our Captures and Federal Reprisals for Same.
I did not return to my squadron or regiment after I re
covered from my lung wound. I was promoted to major
and authorized to raise a battalion of cavalry. I went to
work at once and in a short time I had gathered around me
quite a nucleus of young fellows who lived within the ene
my's lines and others who within our lines had become or
were about to become liable to military service. My old
company was anxious to come to me, and I received a peti
tion to be presented to the proper authorities for a transfer,
but I was satisfied it would be futile so I never presented it.
It was, however, most gratifying to me to have this evi
dence of the esteem of men with whom as lieutenant and
captain I had been closely associated from April, 1862;
whom I had commanded from August, 1862; whose cour
age and devotion I had seen tested scores and scores of
times, on picket, in skirmishes, engagements and pitched
battles ; who had been weighed in the scales of chivalry and
loyalty and never found wanting. My affection for them
was strong ; for some of them I had a brotherly feeling. It
was hard for me to part with them, but I had the desire that
most soldiers have — that of promotion. A major's star was
more attractive to me than a captain's bars, and besides the
thought that I would be the commanding officer of a battal
ion and not a subordinate officer in a regiment was alluring
to me. Still I knew that the regiment to which I had been
attached had won fame and glory, and did not know with
what credit mv battalion of new and untried men would ac
quit itself. This thought sometimes almost caused me to
PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 87
regret that I had accepted my promotion, but I would reason
that the boys who would come to me had the same Virginia
blood in their veins, they had been taught by the same kind
of Virginia mothers, and that the fathers or brothers of
most, if not all of them, had done their duty and chiseled
their names on the scrolls of the brave and true ; then why
should I fear that my boys would prove themselves re
creant ?
I was put on picket and scout duty in the Valley. My
embryo battalion gradually continued to grow until I had
two pretty full companies.
In the early part of December, 1863, the First Regi
ment of New York Cavalry, under the command of a
Colonel Boyd, commenced an advance up the Valley. The
weather was bitter cold, and as I confronted Boyd with
my partly-formed battalion and such men "on leave" and
wounded furloughs as I could gather up, in the bleak winds
and freezing atmosphere, with numerous roads to guard and
at the same time to keep a force in front of the advancing
regiment, I had a difficult task. Still we were able to so
oppose Boyd's advance and to make such a demonstration
in his front as to cause him to move slowly and cautiously
and "feel his way." With not more than fifty men with me
and in his front, it took him from early morning to sunsec
to move his regiment from Edenburg to New Market, a
distance of twelve miles, at which latter place he encamped
for the night.
I established my picket line about two miles south of
him, put my reserve two miles farther up the Valley, and
then being nearly exhausted and suffering from my injured
lung, I rode with a courier or two to Lacey Springs, to get
shelter from the stinging cold and some rest. I was re
ceived into the warm Southern home of Abraham Lincoln
(a cousin of President Lincoln), who still lives, vigorous
and strong, far up in the eighties, in the same home in
which he was born and reared, esteemed by all his people.
I rested well and at sunrise, after enjoying a good break-
88 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
fast, I mounted my horse and with my couriers rode to the
camp of my reserve.
I had hardly reached there when a picket announced
Boyd's advance. Taking my reserve I fell back up the pike,
sending orders to the pickets to fall back, keeping a safe dis
tance from the enemy, but never to lose sight of them, and
if they left the pike to inform me at once.
At Lacey Springs I met a body of fellows who had been
sent from Harrisonburg to reinforce me — there were per
haps seventy-five of them; they were of all sorts — con
scripts, quartermaster's clerks, camp-loafers, with here and
there a real soldier. I conceived the idea if I could place
them in a position of safety, where they could fire without
the fear of being shot at, I might make use of them and pos
sibly do some execution with them. I thought instantly of
a place to station them, so I marched them south about a
mile to a piece of woods in a hollow on the side of the pike,
and which could not be seen by any body of troops ap
proaching it from the north until they were right on it.
Here I stationed them, and told them that I wanted to toll
the enemy into a trap ; that I would instruct my men to in
duce the enemy if possible to charge them and to retreat by
the place, and when the enemy's column was well abreast of
us they should fire into the flank; that they must be cool,
and after delivering the fire they must charge, and I would
lead them. I rode back to an elevated point overlooking the
pike for quite a distance.
Soon I saw the Federals advancing and my men falling
back before them. When they had reached a point perhaps
half a mile off, the Federals charged and my men retreated.
I galloped back into the woods, told my "reinforcements"
the enemy would be upon them in a minute or two, and that
they must remember their orders. On the Federals came,
by the woods my men swept, and when the Federal flank
for at least a hundred yards was exposed, three or four only
of the miserable fellows fired, and then the whole crowd
broke with break-neck speed back through the woods, scat
tering as they ran like a flock of wild turkeys when flushed
PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 89
by a hunter's hound. Instantly the Federal cavalry dashed
into the woods, and in my efforts to escape my hat was
knocked off by a limb of a tree, which was a great loss, par
ticularly the plume, for hats and plumes were then worth
much more than their weight in fractional Confederate cur
rency. I felt somewhat reconciled to my loss when I found
that a dozen or more of the cowardly scamps had been cap
tured.
The Federal cavalry encamped that night just north of
Harrisonburg. The next morning they occupied Harrison-
burg for a few hours, and then took up their backward
march down the Valley.
I was much pleased with the manner in which the inex
perienced and untried boys of my new battalion had be
haved, and I was satisfied I was gathering around me the
same kind of boys who had won fame and victory at First
Manassas. I was soon ordered to the Page or Massanutten
Valley, and there continued on scout and picket duty.
In the early spring of 1864 my battalion was consolidated
with a larger battalion, — Colonel Robert White's — forming
the Twenty-third Regiment; Colonel White, an energetic
brave officer, became colonel, I was made lieutenant-
ptain F. H. Calmese was made major.
In April, 1864, the Twenty-third Regiment was encamped
at New Market. The spring campaign had not fully opened,
but everything indicated that we should have warm times
very soon. I had quite a number of dismounted men — men
who had lost their horses in battle, or whose horses had been
disabled, or had died from disease.
Horses were scarce and hard to get, and if they had been
ever so plentiful my men could not have purchased them,
when an ordinary horse brought readily $2,000 to $3,000 in
Confederate money, and the private soldier got $14 per
month in the same currency. As our government did not
supply cavalrymen with horses, they had to furnish or cap
ture their own.
It had been reported to us that on a certain Saturday
night in every month an organization of citizens, called a
9O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
"Union League," met in the Odd Fellows Hall in the town
of Berkeley Springs, my home ; that its members were gen
erally countrymen and rode into the town to the meetings
on their horses. I did not like to raid my old friends, but
I argued that they were Virginians, and as they had contrib
uted nothing toward the support of the Confederacy in her
struggle it would not be wrong for me to impress a few of
their horses for my dismounted men. So one Thursday I
mounted twenty-eight picked men on picked horses, and tak
ing Captain Jack Adams with me we started to Berkeley
Springs, distant eighty-five miles, near the Potomac River,
and only six miles from Pennsylvania. We arrived in the
neighborhood of Unger's store, eighteen miles from our
point of destination, near daylight Saturday morning, and
laid in a hollow in the mountains until about four o'clock
in the afternoon, when we took up our march for Berkeley,
moving along rapidly down the main road. We reached
the town about eight o'clock, and just before doing so I
divided my men and sent half of them with a guide who was
a former resident of the town to secure the horses belonging
to the Leaguers, hitched some distance from their place of
meeting, and with the other half I rode quickly to the Odd
Fellows Hall.
I sprang from my horse, and in an instant I had the sen
tinel at the door leading up to the hall a prisoner ; in a min
ute more Captain Adams and I had thrown the lodge-room
door open, and with our pistols covering them we were de
manding the surrender of the Leaguers, who filled the hall
well, and in another minute, surprised and frightened, they
had all surrendered to us.
In the meeting were a West Virginia State Senator, Aaron
Bechtol; a member of the House of Delegates, Joseph S.
Wheat; and the Commonwealth's Attorney for the county,
a man by the name of Finn. After putting all under guard
I rode into the center of the town to my home and met my
three sisters and little brother just for a few moments.
When I returned to the hall I found the squad that had
been sent for the horses; they had done their work well.
PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 9!
There was a Federal cavalry force many times larger than
mine only two miles away, and I was nearly a hundred miles
from any support, and was in danger of being cut off by
another force, so it behooved me to make fast time back
wards, and score as many miles as possible before daylight.
Keeping, I think, five men with me to cover the rear, I put
Captain Adams in command of the other men and horses,
and the Senator, delegate, and Commonwealth's Attorney,
and two Federal soldiers, whom we brought out, and di
rected him to take a certain road which I thought would be
the safest.
By sunrise the next morning we were thirty miles from
Berkeley, but were only about an hour ahead of a cavalry
force that had been sent out from Romney to cut us off. Go
ing into a gorge where I could have held a hundred men at
bay with hardly a possibility of capture, we rested quietly.
Late in the evening we moved a few miles farther, and then
being upon strictly friendly soil and beyond harm's reach,
we slept the sleep of tired and exhausted men. From there
by easy marches we got back into our camp, without losing
a horse or a prisoner, and with horses enough to mount all
of my dismounted men.
After this raid two of my sisters, and several young girls
who were Southern sympathizers, were arrested upon the
charge that they had been sending me information which
induced me to make my trip but a gallant Federal officer —
Colonel David H. Strother, "Porte Crayon," — interposed,
and they were discharged in a day or two after their arrest.
The fact is, I had received no information whatever from
them ; it had been brought to me by scouts.
I was really sorry we had captured Senator Bechtol and
Delegate Wheat with the Leaguers. They had been friends
of my father during his lifetime, and my friends after his
death until I became a "rebel."
In my heart I wanted them to make their escape, which
they could easily have done during the night as we were
passing rapidly along the mountain roads, with thick under
growth on the sides — in fact they had every opportunity;
92 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
but they could not summon sufficient courage to make the
attempt, and daylight found them still prisoners in our
hands, and I was compelled to send them and Finn to Rich
mond.
In a day or two after my raid a Federal cavalry detach
ment was sent to Winchester to make arrests in retaliation
for the arrest of Bechtol, Wheat, and Finn. They arrested
three of the most prominent and distinguished citizens of
Virginia — Hon. Robert Y. Conrad, father of Hon. Holmes
Conrad, Solicitor-General under the second Administration
of President Cleveland; Hon. Philip Williams, father of
Captain John J. Williams, who at his death a year or two
ago was Grand Commander of the Grand Camp of the
United Confederate Veterans; and Rev. Doctor Boyd, pas
tor of the Presbyterian church in the town. If the Federal
cavalry could have had the State from which to select they
could not have picked three more prominent, distinguished,
and beloved citizens than the three they arrested in the town
of Winchester, with her population not exceeding three
thousand. How long it was before an exchange of these
civil prisoners was effected I cannot definitely remember, but
not very long; however, when the exchange took place we
got three, while the Federals got only two — Finn, the Com
monwealth's Attorney, having died in the Belle Isle Prison
at Richmond.
Seven or eight years after peace came I met Senator Bech
tol, and I was exceedingly gratified to hear from his own
lips that he harbored no ill feelings toward me, and simply
regarded his arrest as the act of a soldier who must obey
his orders, however unpleasant it may be at times. In his
conversation he gave me much valuable information in con
nection with the formation of the State of West Virginia,
which would be interesting, as it is not generally known, but
I must desist. There is, however, one thing he told me
which I will repeat.
Wonder had often been expressed at the inclusion of the
Counties of Jefferson, Berkeley, and Morgan within the
boundaries of West Virginia — forming what is termed
PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 93
"The Eastern Panhandle." I asked him what was the
object?
He replied there were two reasons : First, The general
Government desired to have the whole line of the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad from Harpers Ferry west to the Ohio
River within the territory and under the jurisdiction of the
new State. Second, That the legislature thought it well to
embrace these three counties of the Shenandoah Valley with
in the boundaries of West Virginia as a nucleus to attract
the other counties of the Valley, for in the course of a few
years after the Union was restored it was thought they
would rather be in the new than the old State, because of the
past affiliation of the counties west of the Blue Ridge against
the eastern counties in matters of legislation and State
policy, and because the interests of the Valley counties would
be more closely blended with the interests of the counties
west than with the interests of the counties east of them.
I need hardly say that events have shown that the legis
lature did not reckon wisely, for all of the Shenandoah
Valley counties, except the three severed, have been as true
and loyal to the old Mother as her Southwestern, Piedmont,
Southside and Tidewater counties. During the more than
forty years since the new State was ruthlessly carved from
Virginia's side each of her Valley counties has been as con
stant to her "as the Northern Star, of whose true, fixed,
and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament/'
CHAPTER XII
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT.
The Battle of New Market— Sigel's Force and What Opposed Him—
A Complete Rout for the Federals — I Get a Chance to Repay the
Kindness of a Federal Officer to My Mother — General Hunter on
the Way up the Valley— The Eighteenth in a Trap— Piedmont
Lost Through a Gap in Our Lines — Outrageous Bungling — Death of
General Jones — I am Sent under a Flag of Truce for the Bodies of
General Jones, Colonel Doyle and Colonel Brown — Treated in an
Ungentlemanly, Unsoldierlike Manner by General Hunter.
On May 15, 1864 the Twenty-third regiment was en
gaged in the Battle of New Market. A few days prior to
this engagement we learned that a regiment of Federal
cavalry was advancing from Luray in the direction of New
Market, where the Eighteenth and Twenty-third regiments,
the Sixty-second Regiment of mounted infantry, and
McClanahan's battery of artillery, all under the command
of General John D. Imboden, were lying.
Soon the Federal regiment was discovered on the top of
the mountain, four miles distant. There they halted for a
few minutes and then commenced to descend the mountain,
coming directly toward us. The movement was a great
surprise to us. We could not understand why this regiment
should be moving in the very jaws of our brigade. We
concluded that they certainly \vere deceived and that they
thought we were Federal troops; our surmise proved to
be correct. It was the First New York, and it had been
ordered to join Sigel at New Market by way of the Page
Valley. But instead of joining Sigel, they were making
themselves our game, and we prepared to bag them. The
Eighteenth and Twenty-first were ordered to saddle up and
get ready. On the Federal regiment came, in utter ignorance
of the mistake they were making, and but for information
they received when they reached the foot of the mountain,
about a mile from us, they would have ridden right into
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 95
our camp. They were told by somebody that we were
Confederates, and they turned north, to the right, taking
a road leading down Smith's Creek and running along the
base of the Massanutten Mountain. As soon as we dis
covered this change the Twenty-third was ordered to pro
ceed down the Pike, cross the fields, and get ahead of them
if possible, while the Eighteenth was ordered to close in on
the rear. Away went both regiments in a fast gallop.
After the Twenty-third had gone about two miles it started
to cross and get in front of the Federals on the Smith's Creek
Road, but just as we got in sight of the creek we saw the
Federal regiment heading in the direction of the Valley
Pike. We pitched directly at them ; but after firing a few
shots as we approached them, they wheeled about and struck
pell-mell, every fellow for himself, to the mountain road,
pursued hotly by us and the Eighteenth, which had come up
in their rear. Our chase resulted in our making many cap
tures, but more horses than men, as the riders would aban
don their horses and rush into the thick undergrowth of the
mountain and escape. But the captures of men and horses
necessarily rendered the First New York useless for some
time — until it could be recruited and remounted.
On May 14 Sigel advanced to New Market with 6,500
men and perhaps thirty guns. He was met the next day by
General John C. Breckenridge with a force of not exceed
ing 4,500 men, including the corps of Virginia Military In
stitute Cadets, and only about ten pieces of artillery, under
McLaughlin. Sigel was completely routed, losing, I think,
six guns and nearly 1,000 prisoners.
For some time previous to this engagement my mother
had been writing to me whenever she had an opportunity to
get a letter through the lines. In her letters she never failed
to tell me of the kindness and protection she was receiving at
the hands of Colonel Campbell and Captain Bonacker of the
Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania Infantry, stationed at Berkeley
Springs, where she lived, and in her last letter before this
engagement she requested me to look after these two Fed
eral officers in case they were ever captured by the Confed-
96 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
crates and I knew of it. The night after the battle, as I sat
tired and worn out in the light of my camp-fire, my thoughts
wandered homeward, and I recalled my mother's request.
Thinking possibly the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania had been
with Sigel in the fight of that day, and, if so, it was likely
Colonel Campbell and Captain Bonacker were with the regi
ment, I determined to ride to the field and inquire. So
mounting my horse I rode to where the hottest fighting had
occurred, where most of the Federal dead and wounded
were lying, and burying parties were gathering up the dead
and our ambulance corps were carrying the wounded to the
field hospitals.
I was soon told by a wounded Federal soldier that the
Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania had been in the fight and on the
left of the Federal infantry line. I walked down toward
where the Federal left had rested, and finally, after many
inquiries, I was told by a wounded Pennsylvanian that he
had heard Captain Bonacker had been wounded and was still
on the field. I then commenced my search for Bonacker, the
friend and protector of my mother and sisters, and in less
than ten minutes, I think, my efforts were successful. I
found a captain lying in a depression in the field, his knap
sack under his head and a canteen of water at his side.
Somehow I felt sure he was the man for whom I was search
ing, so bending down over him I said. "You are Captain
Bonacker. Am I not correct?" He replied feebly, "Yes,
that is my name ; why do you ask?" I said, "Captain, I am
Colonel O'Ferrall, and I intend to take care of you." He
raised his hand and as I grasped it he said, "You are doing
just what your mother told me her son would do if occasion
ever arose and he had the opportunity."
Directing him to tell the ambulance corps if they reached
him before I could return that I was his friend and would
take care of him, I left him to find an ambulance ; this I soon
secured, and directing the driver to follow me I led him to
where Bonacker was lying. I did not know where or how
he was hurt, but I then ascertained that he was shot through
the right lung. The driver and I raised him as gently as
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 97
possible and laid him in the ambulance. Tying my horse
behind, I took my seat by his side. He was very weak from
the loss of blood and I was afraid he would collapse, but
while I was hunting for an ambulance I had secured a little
whiskey or apple brandy, I have forgotten which, and I got
him to swallow some of it, and this revived him. I ordered
the driver to drive to the pike, which was near by and
smooth, and thence to New Market. There I readily pro
cured excellent quarters for him at the home of Mr. Fred
erick Zeiler, and in a very short time he was made as com
fortable as his condition would admit. I called a surgeon
and employed a nurse and remained with him myself until
the next morning, when I had to return to my regiment.
The second night I spent with him, and then, as we were or
dered to move, I had to bid him good-by, leaving him in
charge of a nurse by the name of McDaniel, and under the
care of as skilful a surgeon as any in the Army, Dr. Caspar
C. Henkel, of a family of surgeons and physicians. When
I parted with him he was deeply affected, and I was exceed
ingly gratified that it had fallen to my lot to show my appre
ciation of the kindness he had shown to those who were
near and dear to me when they were helpless. It was also
most gratifying to me to care for a brave man who was
ready to battle with men in the defense of a cause he had
espoused, but whose manhood spurned the thought of war
ring against women and children. Here I shall leave Bon-
acker, simply saying that in a few weeks he recovered suf
ficiently to return to his Pennsylvania home.
Soon another Federal force of infantry, cavalry, and artil
lery, under General David Hunter, started up the Shenan-
doah Valley. In front, opposing this force, were the Eigh
teenth and Twenty-third regiments of cavalry, the Sixty-
second Regiment of mounted infantry, McNeil's battalion
of partisan rangers, and McClanahan's battery of artillery,
all under General Imboden, and this force was not strong
enough to do more than hold Hunter in check and retard
him until additional troops could arrive. With admirable
judgment and skill General Imboden performed this work.
7
98 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
On the evening of June 4 Hunter had succeeded in push
ing his way to Mount Meridian, in the vicinity of Weyer's
Cave, Augusta County. During the night of the 4th General
William E. Jones, the old commander of the famous Ashby
brigade, arrived at the village of New Hope, not far from
Mount Meridian. He brought with him Vaughan's Tennes
see brigade, and some odds and ends of different regiments,
which had been hastily gathered together, and a regiment of
reserves or home guards.
On the morning of the 5th Hunter sent forward his caval
ry, which was met by our Eighteenth Regiment without sup
port, and in consequence it was soon overwhelmed, and be
ing caught in a lane with a high and strong fence on either
side, with no opportunity to rally or form a line, it re
treated in bad order, and but for the support of the Twenty-
third and a company of mounted reserves under the com
mand of Captain John N. Opie, a most gallant officer and
now a Virginia State Senator, which came up just in the
nick of time, the Eighteenth would have suffered very se
verely, for the firing upon its rear and flanks was terrific.
As it was the loss was considerable, and General Imboden,
who had gone to the front with the regiment, barely escaped
capture.
The Twenty-third and Opie's company, quickly forming
in a field, charged the Federal cavalry and drove them back.
In the meantime General Jones was selecting his ground for
the battle and forming his line. His infantry line, crescent
shape, extended from the Mount Meridian Road westward
to the North River; his mounted force was stationed east
of the road, but through the failure of some one to obey
General Jones's order a wide opening was left between the
infantry and cavalry lines. Our infantry built rail piles and
threw up such other breastworks as the material and means
at their command would permit. Hunter advanced his in
fantry cautiously, and about two o'clock in the afternoon
made his attack on our infantry line; he was repulsed ; then
he tried it a second, third, fourth, and perhaps a fifth time,
and each time was repulsed ; then came a lull, and suddenly
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 99
a column of infantry was seen moving double-quick up a
depression in a field, which concealed them from our in
fantry, but not from our cavalry, in the direction of the
opening in our line which I have mentioned. They had dis
covered the break or opening, and were rushing to take ad
vantage of it. Our cavalrymen understood their purpose,
which was to strike our infantry on the flank.
Every cavalryman, looking upon this movement of the en
emy from elevated ground, was in a state of excitement, and
awaited breathlessly for orders, which he expected momen
tarily. In our immediate front there was no enemy and we
had done no fighting since the morning. No orders came,
and there we sat on our horses and saw the enemy reach
the opening and half of them pass through and beyond it,
then suddenly wheel to the right, from column into line, and
rush upon the flank of our infantry line and lap around it;
at the same time, we saw Hunter's line advance in front.
We heard the terrific rattle of musketry, which betokened
the death grapple of the two sides, and saw the dense smoke
arising, telling the tale of gore reddening soil that had never
before drank in human blood. The struggle was not long.
About five o'clock that clear and beautiful June afternoon
we had lost a battle which ought to have been won, and
would have been but for two mistakes — first, in leaving the
opening; second, in failing to order the cavalry to attack
the column as it moved up the depression in the field.
There was most outrageous bungling at Piedmont.
I am sure General Jones never intended to leave a gap in his
line; I am sure somebody failed to obey his orders. Some
body was derelict in the discharge of his duty, but who the
recreant was I know not.
It is the duty of an officer to assume responsibilities, and
when his judgment tells him unquestionably that a thing
should be done, and if not done direful will be the conse
quences, if he is in a position he should do it and take the
chances of being cashiered. If such an officer had been in
command of the right wing of our line at New Hope he
would have attacked that Federal column if it had cost him
100 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
his commission and reduced him to the ranks. It is always
disagreeable to me to criticise a fellow-officer, condemn him
for any act of commission or omission, but truth forces me
in this instance to lay blame at the door of General Vaughan
for our defeat at New Hope. He ranked General Imboden,
and sat quietly on his horse, awaiting orders, in spite of Im-
boden's persistent desire and the eagerness of the men to
move upon the enemy. General Vaughan did not lack per
sonal courage, and he would have led his men anywhere
without wavering for an instant if he had been ordered, but
his judgment must have taught him what orders he
should have had and that his failure to receive them was the
result of a mistake, oversight, inability, or want of knowl
edge, and he should have acted upon his own judgment and
responsibility. If he had done this, instead of criticism and
blame, he would have been the recipient of praises and plau
dits and become the hero of the occasion.
For some minutes after the flank attack was made our
men stood their ground manfully and displayed supreme
courage; but soon they were subjected to a fire not only
upon their flank, but from the front and rear by a vastly su
perior force. They then began to waver, and General Jones,
who had been on the line all the time, and Colonel Doyle and
Colonel Brown, who were in command of regiments at the
point of attack, were all killed. Seeing these officers fall,
our line gave way, and retreated toward the river, pursued
by the Federals, and as retreating men ran down the line,
they were joined by others, and soon the whole Confederate
infantry was in full retreat toward the river, and upon its
banks many were captured. When our line broke all the
wagons of Hunter's army had been turned around and he
was ready to retreat. But for the success of the flank move
ment, the result of inexcusable mistakes, we would have
scored a victory with a meagre force, hastily collected, over
a much larger force, well disciplined and thoroughly
equipped.
After General Jones fell. General Vausfhan assumed com
mand. Directing me to remain at New Hope with two
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT IOI
squadrons as long as I could, not later than nightfall, and
then fall back and join the army at Fisherville, he retired
from the field without trouble. I remained at New Hope as
ordered, was not disturbed by the enemy, and rode into camp
at Fisherville about midnight.
The next morning I was summoned to General Vaugh-
an's headquarters. Upon reporting to him he told me that
he intended to retire to Rock Fish Gap in the Blue Ridge,
near Waynesboro; that he wanted me to take two ambu
lances and a small squad and go on down the road over
which I had come the night before, until I met Hunter's ad
vance, and then raising a flag of truce, present a communi
cation addressed by him to General Hunter, asking for the
delivery to me of the bodies of General Jones, Colonel
Doyle, and Colonel Brown, who as I have said had been
killed on the day before. He then remarked significantly
that I need not be particular about not holding them at a
standstill under my flag of truce as long as possible; inti
mating that he needed time to get into the mountain.
With two ambulances and a squad of three men I started
on my mission with my communication in my pocket. Six
miles below Fisherville, if I remember the distance correctly,
is Mowery's Hill. As I reached the top of it I saw the Fed
eral cavalry advance a short distance beyond the Mowery
homestead at the base of the hill. Instantly I ran up my
white flag, and quickening my pace rode down the hill with
my men. My approach was seen by the Federal officer, and
with three or four men he advanced, and we met right at
Mowery's house, under some trees by a stream of clear,
cold water from his dairy, or spring-house, as it was called,
that ran across the road. We saluted and introduced each
other. He was Major Charles G. Otis, of the Twenty-first
New York Cavalry.
As I had ridden along on my way from Fisherville I had
been endeavoring to devise some scheme to hold the advance
as long as possible, and had laid out a plan in my head.
Whether it would work I did not of course know.
102 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
After the salutation and introduction I said : "Major, I
am the bearer of a communication from General Vaughan,
commanding the Confederate forces, to General Hunter,
commanding the Federal forces. I desire to present it to
General Hunter in person. Will you please communicate
my desire to General Hunter?" He replied instantly, "Why
certainly, Colonel."
So writing a note he called a courier and dispatched
him with the note, with orders "to be quick." Very natur
ally the battle of the day before came up and we discussed
it. Of course I admitted it was a Union victory, and ex
plained how I thought it occurred. He was not disposed
to exult at all. I discovered directly that he was a gentle
man of the most refined feelings, and ever cautious not to
wound unnecessarily the feelings of another, even though
he might be an enemy — "a Johnnie Reb." He admitted to
me that in all of Hunter's front attacks the Federals had
been badly worsted, and that Hunter was preparing to with
draw and retire when he learned of the gap in our lines ; that
he then determined to try the movement which I have de
scribed, and fortunately for them it was successful, and
won the fight for them; that its success was a matter of
wonderment w^ith him and the Federal officers generally,
who knew of the position and proximity of our cavalry.
We continued to chat ; the day was very warm, and we were
enjoying the shade from the sun, and the atmosphere cooled
and freshened by the pearly brook that rippled by us. Sud
denly an elderly gentleman, splendidly mounted, rode rap
idly down the hill. Stopping where we were sitting he
commenced to abuse in the most vigorous style "the d—
Yankees," and insisting that "the last one of these infernal
rascals should be taken and strung up to that limb," point
ing to a large limb that extended above us over the road.
As soon as I could I checked the old man by saying to
him, "You must not talk that way; you should not abuse
prisoners — men who are helpless. You evidently think these
men are prisoners, but they are not — we are all here under a
flag of truce." When he learned the men in blue were not
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 103
prisoners I never saw such a change come over a man ; his
face grew ashy pale and he seemed to become limp and
almost to reel in his saddle, but in a second he recovered, and
wheeling his horse, and with "Good-day, gentlemen," he put
spurs to his fine, fleet-footed animal and sailed away in the
direction he had come, with his coat-tails standing straight
out behind him.
Who was this man ? This inquiry will come to you men
tally at once. I will tell you. The farm upon which stood
the fine old mansion near by, from which the crystal stream
coursing at our side flowed, was one of the finest in that
section, more famous than any other section of Virginia
for its fine farms and homes, and belonged to George W.
Mowery. He cultivated it, and raised short-horned cattle,
splendid strains of horses, and abundant crops of wheat and
all the cereals, clover, timothy and blue grass, and he lived
in the country mansion not a stone's throw from us.
The man who was so abusive of the Yankees and wanted
to hang those who were with me was George W. Mowery
himself. He thought Otis and his men were prisoners, and
when he learned his mistake he feared that his home was
doomed, and fearing that he might be identified and his
name disclosed, he determined to lose no time in getting
away. He did not know me or any Confederate with me;
I, however, knew him, but I had sufficient presence of mind
not to call his name or to show in any way that I knew him.
As he was taking his rapid departure from us, and Otis
and I were watching with interest the beautiful and grace
ful strides of his horse under the pressure of spur, Otis said
with a jolly laugh : "That old fellow evidently has no use
for us Yankees. There would not be many of us if he
could have his way."
Later in the day the whole Federal army passed his
house, and he suffered no material damage. If Hunter had
known that its owner had expressed such sentiments as I
have related, before the day closed lone chimneys would
have stood as sentinels over the charred ruins of Mowery's
house.
IO4 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
It was still some time after this episode before Otis's cour
ier returned — he was gone, I think, at least an hour and a
half. He brought this reply : "General Hunter declines to
see the rebel officer. He must send forward his communica
tion at once, or return to his lines." I said : "Major, this is
discourteous and unsoldier-like treatment. I cannot see
why he declines to see me. I believe I will retain my com
munication and return to my lines." Otis said : "Hold on.
I will try him again." He wrote another note and sent the
same courier with it, but on a fresh horse.
The courier's stay was very little shorter than when he
first went in search of the Federal general. When he re
turned he handed Major Otis a paper, which he immediately
delivered to me. It was the communication I had sent to
General Hunter. On the back of it were written these
words :
The rebels General Jones, and Colonels Brown and Doyle, are dead,
and have been decently buried.
All the rebel dead have been decently buried and the wounded are
being well cared for. The bearer of this communication must return
to his lines forthwith.
DAVID HUNTER,
Maj. Genl. Commanding U. S. Forces.
This ungentlemanly, unsoldierlike, and unfeeling reply of
General David Hunter to General Vaughan's communica
tion was simply in keeping with the character of the man,
and of which I shall write later.
Upon the receipt of this reply, shaking hands with Major
Otis and thanking him for his courtesy and soldier-like treat
ment, I directed my ambulance drivers to turn about, and
with them and my squad I took up my ride to Rock Fish
Gap, arriving some time before dark.
I had been very much attracted by Otis during the sev
eral hours I had been with him under the flag of truce. As
Hunter was advancing up the Valley Turnpike we had ob
served a Federal cavalry officer mounted on a sorrel horse
with a white face, almost always in front, conspicuous by
his activity, frequently leading charges, and in every way
NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT IO5
displaying courage and dash. Otis was riding a horse when
I met him which answered the description of the officer's
horse I have just mentioned, and upon inquiry I ascer
tained that it was he who had been so constantly at the head
and front of Hunter's army, and his bearing then when balls
were flying and his bearing under the flag of truce had been
such as to arouse my admiration and respect for him.
Years after peace came to our land and the sections were
reunited, and I had been a member of Congress for several
years, in mv mail one morning was a letter from a friend
and war comrade of Otis, addressed to me, stating that the
Major's friends were applying for one of the medals the
U. S. Government was issuing to officers, and to privates
too, I think, for marked courage and distinguished
bearing "in the War between the States" — he did not say
"the War of the Rebellion" ; that Otis had told his friends
he had met me in the strife, and that I knew something
about him as a soldier, and he and his friends would be
greatly pleased if I could, consistently with my views, write
a letter in his behalf.
It is needless for me to say that I wrote the letter, and
whether it had any weight or not with the authorities I can
not say, but to my pleasure one of the medals was issued to
Otis. I received a beautiful letter from him, full of frater
nal feeling and rejoicing that the day of reconciliation had
arrived. He is now dead, and only a few months ago his
daughter wrote me that she was engaged in preparing the
life of her father and requested me to write my impressions
of him for her book. This I have not done as yet, but I
shall not delay it much longer.
CHAPTER XIII
LYNCHBURG — EARLY's RAID TO WASHINGTON AND RETURN.
Hunter's Vandal Hand — We Pass Through Lynchburg — Hunter Declines
Battle — ''Virginia 'Pawsing' " — The End of Hunter's Expedition to
Lynchburg — Hunter a Failure as a Soldier and Covered with
Ignominy — Early Defeats Lew Wallace at Monocacy and Marches
on to Washington — A Surprise to the Federal Authorities — Our
Retrograde March — Marching and Countermarching — The Fear the
Authorities at Washington had of Early — Sheridan Put in Com
mand to Cope with Early.
Hunter moved to Staunton, and thence to Lexington,
where his vandal hand burned to ashes the Virginia Mili
tary Institute, whose corps of cadets, 240 strong, had im
mortalized itself at New Market three weeks before. The
home of ex-Governor Letcher was also laid in ashes. From
Lexington he passed on to the vicinity of Lynchburg, by
way of the Peaks of Otter, and there he reached the zenith
of his fame — if his defeat of Jones and his destruction of the
Virginia Military Institute and ex-Governor Letcher's home
could, in the estimation of any one, give him fame.
While Hunter was moving from Staunton to Lynchburg,
our forces that had confronted him at New Market moved
across the Blue Ridge and on to Lynchburg, arriving on
the 1 7th, finding General Early in command of the troops.
We passed directly through Lynchburg and took the Sa
lem Road and commenced to throw up a line of defenses,
under the order of General Early. We had then Wharton's
division of infantry, King's artillery, Jackson's, Imboden's,
and McCausland's brigades, and some other troops. On the
1 8th Rode's division arrived.
My regiment, the Twenty-third, was sent forward, and
at the Stone Church, about five miles westward, \\ e encoun
tered Hunter's advance — strong in numbers. The Twenty-
third was thrown forward as skirmishers, and I was put in
command. We soon became engaged with the Federal line
l^YNCHBURG EARLY S RAID TO WASHINGTON
of skirmishers, but we succeeded in holding them well, and
at dusk they had made comparatively little progress. Gen
eral Early had not been idle. Reinforced by Rode's divis
ion — brought, I think, by rail from Charlottesville — he
formed his line some three miles west of the city's limits.
We laid down that night believing that the next day would
bring a battle, in the result of which we had no doubt. We
had an abiding faith in the ability of "Old Jube," as Gen
eral Early was called by his men, to thresh Hunter most
soundly. Our men's hearts were buoyant, and they wanted
a chance to chastise the burner of the Virginia Military In
stitute — Virginia's pride — and the house of Governor
Letcher, who was honored and beloved the State over.
But Hunter declined battle, and retreated as quietly as
possible, and at day-dawn he had put some miles between
himself and Early, but the Confederates pursued in hot
haste. The day was scorching hot and the trail was dusty.
Near Liberty we caught up with the enemy's rear. My reg
iment was in the attacking line, dismounted and moving
through a field in front of a stone fence, behind which the
enemy was posted. The balls were whistling lively around
our heads and we were beginning to suffer.
I had in my line a fine fellow, William Ashby, — familiar
ly called "Bill Ashby," a cousin of General Ashby, — who
was a member of my old company in the Twelfth Cavalry,
and being away from his company on sick leave he joined
me at Lynchburg. He had a short leg, caused by an injury
when a boy. As I was riding along the line, the men mov
ing slowly across the field, I heard some one call me from
behind; turning my horse I rode back, inquiring, "Who
called me?" Directly one of the men replied, "Bill Ashby
called you; there he is" — pointing to him. I said, "Bill,
what do you want ?"
Just then his short leg went down into a sink hole, and as
he pulled it out, balls coming thick and fast, he replied,
"Colonel, I only wanted to ask you if you didn't think Vir
ginia was rather hasty in going into this thing?" While I
was somewhat irritated, the remark was so ludicrous, and
108 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
showed such humor even in face of the greatest danger, it
drew a smile and I rode off, making no reply.
He told me afterwards that as he was marching toward
the stone fence, thinking of the hardships through which
the people of Virginia had been passing for more than three
years, he recalled a picture he saw when the Virginia Con
vention was deliberating upon the question of secession.
The picture represented the United States or Federal Union
as an immense cat, and the Southern States as her kittens.
South Carolina, Mississippi, Alabama and other Southern
States, but not Virginia, had deserted the old mother and
were scampering away from her. Virginia had not gone,
the old cat still had her paw on her; but she was twisting
and squirming to get out from under the paw, and the old
cat was saying, "Not too hasty, Virginia." I recalled the
picture myself; it was extensively circulated by conservative
men, who favored slow and cautious action upon Virginia's
part — many believing she should fight for her rights in the
Union under the Union flag, rather than secede. It was in
tended to impress the convention with the importance of
caution and due deliberation. The title of the picture I re
call well. It was "Virginia Pawsing."
The enemy did not hold their line along the stone fence.
They were soon forced to retire, and from there to Salem
the pursuit was so warm and vigorous that hardly any other
attempt was made to resist us.
At Salem they took the road to Buford's Gap, hoping to
escape Early 's men, who were like blood-hounds on their
tracks ; but before they could fairly enter it, Imboden was
upon their rear and McCausland struck them on their flank,
where we captured many wragons, several guns, and some
prisoners. The pursuit was continued to New Castle, but no
farther. By this time Hunter's army had become nothing
but a demoralized and disorganized body, all fleeing through
the mountains, without a commander, for Hunter had fled,
without orders, and no objective point in view.
Thus ended Hunter's expedition to Lynchburg. He was
of Virginia descent, and when he made his entrance into
IvYNCHBURG — EARLY'S RAID TO WASHINGTON 109
the State he seemed determined to wreak his vengeance
upon his own close kin, who were Confederates in their
sentiments or sympathies.
In Charlestown, Jefferson County, lived Andrew Hunter,
a distinguished lawyer, honored citizen, and courtly gentle
man, far advanced in years. He had a home in the suburbs
of the town, where he had dispensed his hospitality with
a lavish hand. He was a man without an enemy. This
Federal general, with the same blood coursing in his veins
as flowed in the veins of Andrew Hunter, signalized his
abhorrence of a rebel by ordering the torch to be applied to
the home that had long sheltered his aged and venerable
cousin, and it was devoured by the flames. The home of
two other cousins met with a like fate for no other reason
than that they were "rebels."
I think this army, with which he fled through the moun
tains to the Kanawha, was the last he ever commanded.
He had proved himself an utter failure as a soldier, and
bore the ignominy of being the wanton destroyer of the
homes of his own kith and kin, the Virginia Military In
stitute, and the residence of ex-Governor Letcher, and
thus he lived, with none so low as to do him reverence, until
he died in the city of Washington a few years ago.
General Early, after Hunter's retreat, marched his army
leisurely down the Shenandoah Valley. His troops, stirred
by the memories of their great achievement in this far-famed
Valley under Stonewall Jackson, cheered lustily as they
passed through, Harrisonburg, New Market, Edenburg,
Woodstock, Strasburg, Middletown, Newtown, and
glorious Winchester. He was on his march to Washington,
the Federal Capital.
Crossing the Potomac at various points, he moved on and
occupied the city of Frederick, and on the 9th of July he
met and defeated General Lew Wallace, after a bloody
fi.^ht at Monocacy, who retreated toward Baltimore. Early
destroyed the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad bridge, a strong
structure that spanned the Monocacy, and then continued
his march to Washington, passing through Urbana, Gaith-
I IO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
ersburg and Rockville. At the latter place he encamped on
the night of the loth.
On the loth the march was resumed to Silver Spring, on
the Seventh-street Road. At this point my regiment, with
other cavalry, was in front, and we met a force of Federal
cavalry and infantry and drove them without difficulty into
the fortifications that surrounded the city, and I believe we
could have ridden into the works, but we were ordered to
halt.
Our appearance in the vicinity of the very gates of the
Federal Capital was a surprise to the Federal authorities,
and aroused them to the utmost activity. They were greatly
alarmed, and every effort was put forth to rush troops to
the city and man the fortifications, and the effort was suc
cessful. We spent the I2th in front of Washington, and
some heavy skirmishing occurred on part of our line. We
could see the works filling up, and the force increasing every
hour during the day. As soon as dark came, General Early
having learned that an army much larger than his own had
been concentrated, and knowing that the waters of the Po
tomac were in his rear, determined to fall back, and his
whole army was soon moving in the darkness in the direc
tion of Rockville. Daylight broke upon us as we reached
this town, we continuing our march until midday. Then
our tired and worn men and horses were allowed to halt and
rest until dark came again. Then we proceeded as rapidly
as conditions would permit on our retrograde march, pass
ing through Poolesville, where two years before I was
wounded and my life saved, as I believe, by the gallant Fig-
gatt, of whose chivalrous deed I have spoken. We reached
the banks of the Potomac a little before or after midnight.
Here the troops, almost exhausted, dropped in their tracks,
and were soon sound asleep. When the first faint streak of
light appeared in the eastern sky the army was aroused, and
the infantry and artillery crossing at White's Ford and the
cavalry at Conrad's Ferry, we were again in Dixie. It must
not be imagined the enemy had given us no trouble on the
route from Washington to the Potomac. On the contrary.
LYNCHBURG — EARLY'S RAID TO WASHINGTON in
the enemy's cavalry frequently attacked our rear, but they
were always repulsed.
We laid in camp until the i6th, I think, the enemy throw
ing some shells from the Maryland side, and then we broke
camp and moved on in the direction of Snicker's Gap in
the Blue Ridge; part passed through it and camped in the
Valley, the rest on the eastern and western slopes of the
mountain. Our wagon-train and prisoners were sent
through Ashby's Gap. An attack was made on the train
by troops sent from Harpers Ferry, and it suffered some.
In a day or two, perhaps the I7th, our entire army had
pitched camp on the west side of the Shenandoah in the
neighborhood of Castleman's Ferry. The cavalry brigades
were scattered around, and had some fighting with the ene
my's cavalry at Snicker's Gap in the Blue Ridge, and other
points, for several days following. I was a participant in
much of this fighting, and as was always the case amusing
things were said and done, regardless of the missiles of
death or dangerous surroundings. I remember while the
Twenty-third was warmly engaged at Berry's Ferry, a rab
bit, frightened almost to death, started across the field. A
member of the regiment no doubt recalling the remark of
Governor Vance of North Carolina, upon seeing the rabbit
streaking for the rear when a battle was raging, "That's
right; run, Molly Cotton-tail, run. If I hadn't any more
at stake than you have, I would run like the mischief too,"
exclaimed in loud voice, "Git up and git, Mr. Rabbit. I
would like to go with you, but the reputation of Betsy and
the babies is at stake. If I was to run Betsy would never
let me put my arm around her again or dance the brats on
my knee."
There was much marching and countermarching, ad
vancing and falling back by both armies, from that time un
til early in August, when we learned that a large Federal
force was being concentrated at Harpers Ferry and Major-
General Philip H. Sheridan had assumed command of it.
The campaign of Early and Sheridan that followed will
•ever occupy a unique place in the history of the War between
112 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
the States. General Early had fought greater odds than
Jackson ; he displayed judgment and tact in all his move
ments. He had been active, bold and aggressive. He had
for months kept the enemy confused and agitated; they
seemed to be unable to understand what his purposes were
and had to watch him closely, and this required a large
force, for with a small force, or one not greatly in excess of
his own, Early could make incursions into Maryland and
even Pennsylvania, any time, and return before he could
be seriously hurt.
The fear the Federal authorities had of Early compelled
them to call a considerable force from Lee'i front, and in
duced them finally to pit one of their best and most aggres
sive and stubborn fighters against him. Early, in less than
two months, had accomplished much, in my opinion almost
wonders, with his little army. He had marched hundreds
of miles, fought two important battles, — winning a victory
in each, — besides many minor engagements, some of them
of note. He had threatened the Federal Capital, and when
confronted by an overwhelming force he had retreated in
the most perfect order, without the loss of a gun or a wagon,
writh a river in his rear. He had relieved General Lee of
the strain on his line. He may have made some mistakes
later, but when discussing them his prior achievements,
running back over three years, should not be forgotten.
Mistakes ! What general of the war did not make mistakes?
They may not have been observed, but turn the search-light
of truth upon their records, and they will be discovered.
The great and unequaled Lee took upon himself the blame
for the defeat at Gettysburg. I think he was too generous
and magnanimous. For that defeat I would not lay a feath
er's weight of blame upon his splendid shoulders. He was
criticised, sometimes harshly, for the West Virginia cam
paign in the early part of the war. Carpet-knights and
street-corner generals were numerous, and as they were
doing no fighting and had plenty of time to give vent to
their ideas of the manner the war was being conducted, and
how certain battles had been fought, they were wise in their
LYNCHBURG — EARI/y'S RAID TO WASHINGTON 113
own conceit, and nothing suited them; they would have
done so much better if they had been clothed with authority
or had been in command. Then we had some Confederate
officers who were fond of carping and fault-finding. If a
battle was lost it was by bad management; if it was won,
the victory ought to have been greater, and so on. Early's
Lynchburg and Washington campaigns, the ability and
strategy he displayed, his boldness, quickness, and original
ity will ever be worthy of the study of any reader interested
in military history.
While there was intense activity in the lower Valley, and
constant fighting, particularly by the cavalry, no engage
ment rising to the dignity of a real battle occurred until the
1 9th of September, when Early and Sheridan "locked
horns" at Winchester.
CHAPTER XIV
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILL.
Events Leading up to Battle of Winchester— The Battle— Losses of
Both Sides Heavy — Death of Major-General Rodes — An Amusing
Incident with a Pathetic Sequel — Battle of Fisher's Hill — Our Fight
Until 5 o'clock in the Evening — Crook's Charge on Our Left Flank
the Turning Point — I am Wounded by a Fragment of Shell —
Refuse to Have my Leg Taken off — I Reach New Market —
Compelled to Make a Move — Another Move — I go to Mississippi
to Recuperate — "Love at First Sight," Followed by Mjr Marriage.
On the 1 7th Gordon's and Rode's divisions and a cavalry
brigade — Jackson's, I think — moved down the Martinsburg
Turnpike; on the i8th Gordon's division moved on to Mar
tinsburg, and there they burned the bridges of the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad, returning to Bunker Hill in the after
noon. About sunset I was ordered on picket for the night
on the Martinsburg Pike at Darkesville. I met General
Gordon as he was moving back, and he directed me to re
port any movement of the enemy to him at Bunker Hill,
where he would encamp.
The Federal cavalry in our front was astir all night, and
several times my men were in their saddles and in line, an
ticipating an attack, but not a shot was fired. Just about
sunrise, however, the whole Federal force at Martinsburg,
mostly cavalry, commenced to advance, and in a short time
my skirmishers were engaged with theirs. I sent a courier
to inform General Gordon of the movement. The courier
got back to me in about an hour and reported to me that
Gordon had fallen back during the night ; in the meantime
the enemy's cavalry had been forcing me back, and as I
knew of no Confederate soldiers within miles of me, I began
to think that as soon as the Federals found I had no support
they would charge me, and this would mean the capture of
my men, on weak and broken-down horses, of which there
were many. My men behaved splendidly, and retired in the
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILIy 115
most perfect order, giving the advancing skirmishers shot
for shot, doing them at least as much injury as they were
receiving themselves.
When I reached Bunker Hill, much to my relief I found
Col. George H. Smith with his Sixty-second Regiment of
mounted infantry — a colonel without a superior and a regi
ment that had never been known to waver under the hottest
fire. He continued me in command of the skirmish line,
while he kept his regiment in good supporting distance. I
cannot remember how far the morning had advanced when
we arrived at Bunker Hill ; it was not later than 9 o'clock,
however, I think, yet we had been hearing the roar of artil
lery and the rattle of musketry for at least two hours in our
rear, and we knew from the sound that it was the opening
of no ordinary engagement — it was the beginning of a
battle.
We held the enemy in our front pretty well in
check; they seemed to be acting cautiously. When we
reached the Carter House, four miles from Winchester,
we found McCausland's cavalry brigade heavily engaged
on our right with an overwhelming cavalry force. In
a few minutes McCausland was routed and retreated
toward us. Colonel Smith formed the Twenty-third
and Sixty-second into line, wheeled them to the right,
and checked the pursuing Federal cavalry and gave
McCausland time to rally and form a portion of his
brigade. But in the briefest time the Federal cavalry, in a
compact mass and powerful in numbers, rushed upon us,
and drove us rapidly and in disorder back upon the left
flank of Early's infantry line. The effect was very serious
upon our army, which had been contending with superb her
oism from early morning until then about 5 o'clock in the
evening against a vastly superior force. Sheridan had
massed his cavalry on the left flank of Early's army, and
near sundown the whole of Early's line wavered under the
heavy force, then gave way — some parts of it in much con
fusion and other parts calmly and orderly. Passing through
true and patriotic old Winchester, our army proceeded as far
I 1 6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
as Kernstown, where it encamped late in the night and slept
without molestation. Sheridan's heavy cavalry corps had
won the day. It numbered 10,000 well-mounted and mag
nificently-equipped men and had been handled with great
ability and skill. Early's cavalry was entirely too weak to
cope with it; it did well, and every brigade, regiment, and
squadron did its duty, and all in the power of men to do,
but they could not successfully resist the onslaught.
Our loss, as well as the enemy's, was heavy. Among our
killed was the intrepid Major-General Rodes, whose name
was resounding throughout the Army of Northern Virginia
and fast becoming a household word in the homes of
Virginia, upon whose soil he was born and reared. My reg
iment had its full quota of casualties. Its sergeant-major,
Trent Traylor, a splendid young Alabamian, fell mortally
wounded at the Yellow House, on the Martinsburg Turn
pike, while on the skirmish line. He was a dashing caval
ryman, ever ready for duty in camp and on the march, on
picket, in the charge, or on the standing firing-line. I would
be glad to pay tribute to others of the Twenty-third who
fell at their posts, but it would require more space than I
have at my command.
In connection with the battle of Winchester I must put in
these reminiscences an amusing occurrence which was fol
lowed by a story most pathetic. I have just referred to the
death of my sergeant-major. Two or three days before
this battle I invited this young nobleman, for such he was
in truth, to go with me to visit two charming young ladies
who lived in the neighborhood of our camp. He accepted
the invitation, and when the appointed evening came we pre
pared ourselves as best we could and rode to the fine old
country home. The young ladies were looking their pret
tiest, and it was not long before I could see that one of them
had captured Trent, and could feel that I was fast surren
dering to the other. After tea we returned to the parlor,
and soon the strains of the piano and guitar, and the sweet
voices of the young ladies, were adding fuel to the flames in
the breasts of both of us. Time flew, minutes passed like
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILL
seconds, and two hours after tea glided by so swiftly that
not a thought of leaving had entered our minds. Suddenly
the father came into the parlor, and after conversing for a
few minutes he said, "Gentlemen, you will of course spend
the night with us." We thanked him and said no, that we
must return to camp. He bade us good-night and left the
parlor. We looked at our watches, and it was only a few
minutes after nine o'clock. We settled ourselves deeper in
our seats with the thought of at least another hour, perhaps
two, of ecstasy — but we knew not what was just ahead of
us. Directly the parlor door opened and in walked the
father again. We had supposed he had retired for the
night. He said, "Gentlemen, we are Presbyterians here;
our bed time is nine o'clock and we must close up the house ;
you had better spend the night." We then realized how dull
we had been not to take the hint before, but we had not. We
again thanked him and apologized for staying so long and
forcing him to break his rule for retiring. He said, "That's
all right ; come and see us again ; we will always be glad to
see you," and left the parlor.
The young ladies were embarrassed, assured us that their
father had made no exception of us, and reproached them
selves for not letting us know of the inexorable rule.
We took our departure immediately, the ladies declaring
that they had enjoyed the evening, and inviting us to call
again. Neither Trent nor I, after mounting our horses,
spoke a word until we had ridden a hundred yards or more,
then he said: "Colonel, didn't that beat thunder. I was
never so pleased in my life as I was with Miss L., and Miss
N. was just charming, and to be cut off at nine o'clock is
too bad. Why, the chickens hadn't more than gone to sleep.
Didn't Mr. B. say that they were Presbyterians?" I said,
"Yes." "Well, is that a regular Presbyterian rule? If it is,
I would like to know what time a fellow has to court a
Presbyterian girl. He must do it in daylight, or put in his
licks mighty fast at night.
Poor Trent was killed a day or two after this visit, at the
Yellow House, about two miles from Mr. B.'s. I have never
Il8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
seen the ladies since, but that visit saved Trent from a burial
on the field — a trench burial, a burial with the countless "un
known." Hearing that he had been killed, Misses L. and N.
went in search of his body. They found it and had it in
terred in a neighborhood church-yard, and planted roses
upon his grave and cared lor it until some time after the
war was over, when his remains were disinterred and taken
to his distant Southern home, and there laid to rest in the
soil of his native State.
On the 2Oth General Early fell back to Fisher's Hill, and
instantly commenced his preparations to hold it by throwing
up breastworks, and continued until the 22nd, when Early
and Sheridan again met in the Battle of Fisher's Hill.
The fight opened about ten o'clock in the morning, and
was fierce and hot, the Confederates holding their ground
stubbornly and repulsing every assault, until about five
o'clock in the evening, when our left, which was weak, was
assaulted by Crook's corps of infantry, which, under cover
of the trees and undergrowth on the eastern side of the Lit
tle North Mountain, secured a position on the mountain
slope, and like an avalanche swept down upon our left flank,
driving our men from their rifle-pits and then along down
the line. At the same time a vigorous advance from the
front was made, and soon our entire army was in full and
confused retreat, and Sheridan by wreight of numbers, and
I must admit skill, had scored a second victory over Early
with his much inferior army in numbers, though handled
with Early's usual skill. But for the darkness that soon
came upon the scene the result of our defeat would have been
almost destruction to our army.
My position in this battle was on our extreme left. On
the evening of the 2Oth I was called from my regiment and
put in command of all the dismounted cavalry of our army,
numbering about three hundred men. During the night I
had rail piles built and rifle-pits dug, and behind them
formed my line the morning of the 22d, and from there we
repulsed every charge and held our line intact until the as
sault from the mountain side overwhelmed us. Just to my
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILL
right a piece of artillery, under the command of Lieutenant
Carter Berkeley, — as brave as the bravest, as knightly as the
knightliest, — was pouring shell, grape, and canister into the
mass that was sweeping down the mountain slope, but to no
visible effect.
As I saw the mighty horde coming I withdrew my men
for a short distance to higher ground, and there formed my
line. Then, watching an opportunity, I charged, but before
going far I was struck by a piece of shell in the right knee,
and I dropped to the ground; almost instantly my men
broke and scattered in every direction, with the exception
of two or three who remained with me, secured an aban
doned artillery horse, and putting me on him succeeded by
whip and spur in stimulating the poor animal to sufficient
speed to get me away and prevent me from capture, until
they found an ambulance, into which they put me.
Through the retreating mass the ambulance wended its
way, and landed me at Hollingsworth's Hotel, at Wood
stock, about twelve o'clock, where I was placed on a cot in
the parlor, already well filled with wounded Confederates.
I was suffering great pain. A surgeon came to me and ex
amined my knee ; he was joined by a second ; then came a
consultation and then I was coolly informed that "my leg
must come off." The idea shocked and angered me. I
replied in vigorous style and emphatic language to the ef
fect that they couldn't take my leg off. They insisted that
my life depended upon it. I replied, "Very well, I will take
the chances. If I die I will take my leg with me." Find
ing me so determined that they should not apply their knives
to me, the surgeons left me. During the night my colored
boy reached me. Mr. Hollingsworth let me have his rock-
away, and by sunrise my boy had hitched one of my horses
to it, and tying the other behind he was ready to remove me
to a safe point. I was carried out and put in the rockaway
and we started.
Late in the afternoon we reached New Market, — dear old
New Market, my war home, — and there I was received by
Mrs. Crawford, the wife of Lieut. John H. Crawford, of
I2O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
our cavalry. I had suffered intensely on my trip from
Woodstock, and was much exhausted. Under the roof of
this splendid and cultured Southern woman I was treated
as kindly as if I had been a younger brother, and with her
I remained for several weeks, until compelled to move on
account of a Federal raid up the Valley. With a heart
full of gratitude to Mrs. Crawford and her sweet little
daughters, I took my departure in the same conveyance that
had brought me from Woodstock, to some point where I
would certainly, I hoped, be safe from Federal interference
while suffering from my wound.
As I was leaving, Mrs. Crawford told me I must go
directly to the home of her husband's father, Mr. James
Crawford, who lived on a farm near Verona, five miles
north of Staunton — about thirty-eight miles distant from
Woodstock. We traveled leisurely and did not reach
Mr. James Crawford's until late in the evening of the second
day. I was warmly welcomed and spent the night with
them.
Mr. Crawford was a delightful old gentleman, and very
entertaining. His wife was motherly, and his two daugh
ters — young ladies — were full of vivacity, and fine conver
sationalists.
The house was a substantial brick building, the farm was
rich and fertile, and showed evidence of careful and enlight
ened cultivation ; the barn and other farm buildings were in
excellent condition, and everything* indicated comfort and
plenty. In the morning, which was bright and sunshiny,
without a speck in the clouds, with the assistance of my boy
I took a seat on the porch, and soon feelings of thankfulness
filled my soul as I thought of the good fortune that had at
tended me since I was wounded at Fisher's Hill. I refused
to let the surgeons amputate my leg, and in spite of their
prediction that I would die I was not only still living, but
wras recovering, and before long I would have two good
legs and could return to the service of my Southland. I
had met with nothing but kindness, and had just left one
hospitable and delightful home to be received into another
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILL 121
equally as warm and pleasant, to stay until my recovery was
complete, if I should desire to remain so long.
My heart was overflowing with gratitude to the Craw-
fords, and I was mentally showering blessings upon the
name. But my reverie was suddenly broken. A cavalry
man, with his horse foaming and panting, galloped up to the
front gate and announced that "the Yankees were advancing
and were only a few miles off." Instantly the peace, quiet,
and serenity of that happy country home was changed into
alarm, activity, and confusion; the negroes, horses, cattle,
sheep and hogs, carriages and wagons must be speedily re
moved and taken to some place beyond the reach of the ene
my, and 1 must not stand upon the order of my going, but
go at once.
In quick time, after bidding the ladies good-by, and
expressing my thanks for their goodness, I put off in the
direction of Waynesboro. The country road was not
smooth like the pike over which I had traveled, and by the
time we reached Waynesboro, which was perhaps three
o'clock, my knee was giving me considerable trouble. Still
I determined to go farther, thinking it likely that the enemy
might reach the town and I would have to move again if I
remained there. I thought it would be well to put the Blue
Ridge between me and the blue jackets. My trip through
Rock Fish Gap and several miles beyond that afternoon and
night, before I reached a stopping place, will ever continue
vivid in my memory. We traveled at a slow walk ; the road
was a bed of loose rocks from the size of a man's fist to the
size of a half-bushel measure. My sufferings soon became
intense. On we went, and not until nine o'clock, or perhaps
later, did we arrive at our halting place. It was Greenwood,
then owned and occupied by one of Virginia's princely sons,
of whom she has boasted from her birth as a Colony to the
present time — Mr. John H. Timberlake.
As we approached his gate we heard the strains of the
piano and melodious voices, and gay and happy sounds. I
did not know Mr. Timberlake personally, but my servant
boy, whose name was George Terrell, had been raised in the
122 TORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
neighborhood, and Mr. Timberlake knew him well. Leav
ing me in the rockaway, George went to the door and rang
the bell, and almost instantly Mr. Timberlake came running
to me, saying as he came, "Why certainly we will take care
of him." He shook hands with me, and then told me that
his house was full, but room would be found for me, if some
had to leave and go to the barn. George, who was a power
ful young negro, took me in his arms, and following the di
rections of Mr. Timberlake, carried me into the parlor,
which was filled with soldiers and ladies, and laid me on a
sofa. The parlor was immediately cleared, and attention
was given to my knee. Later a good supper was brought to
me, but the pain was too severe for me to eat much of it;
then a comfortable mattress was brought and I was placed
on it, everything was made quiet and I was left for the night,
George sleeping in the room with- me. All these arrange
ments were made under the supervision of Mr. Timberlake
and his wife. The next morning I was given a room on the
second floor.
In a few days my pain had greatly subsided, and in per
haps a week I was able, by being carried from my room, to
sit in the parlor and enjoy the home circle and listen to the
charming music on the piano by an accomplished performer,
Mrs. Whitehead, a daughter of Mr. Timberlake, and the
wrife of Reverend Paul Whitehead, D. D., and the mother of
Silas Whitehead, then a mere lad in skirts, who grew to
manhood to reflect honor and credit for years upon his par
ents, and whose death not long since in Richmond brought
sorrow to the hearts of a host of friends who admired him
for his manly qualities and loved him for his many virtues.
Mr. Timberlake was a Union man when the war broke
out; he never believed in the abstract right of secession,
and thought the South was very impolitic in seceding. He
recognized the fact that the South had suffered grievous
wrongs for years that called loudly for redress, but he be
lieved the surest way to obtain redress was "under the flag
and in the Union," as he expressed it. Still his heart and
his sympathies were warmly with the South in her struggle
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER S HIU, 123
and he prayed for her success. He sent two sons to the
Confederate Army, both of whom were gallant soldiers, and
he furnished in full measure supplies for our army from
his smoke-house, granaries and fields, and when the final
end came he suffered from the result to such an extent as to
render him unhappy the last years of his life.
Before I was well enough to walk without crutches I was
compelled "by" our friends, the enemy," to leave Mr. Tim-
berlake's.
A body of Federal cavalry crossed the mountain and
raided the section in which I had been staying, which had not
previously felt the hoof or been touched by the ravages of
war. They relieved Mr. Timberlake of his horses, and car
ried away a fine animal that belonged to me, which I had left
when I took my departure.
My next stopping place was the home of Major Burr P.
Noland, near Ivy Station on the Virginia Central Railroad,
now the Chesapeake and Ohio, but this was for a night only.
It was here I saw for the first time Captain George G. Grat-
tan , a native of Rockingham County, Virginia, and a
nephew of Hon. Peachy R. Grattan, a distinguished lawyer
and long the reporter of the Court of Appeals of Virginia.
Young Grattan, after finishing his education, had gone, as
well as I remember, to Georgia, and enlisted when the war
commenced in a Georgia regiment, and by his gallantry had
won a captain's commission, and was serving on the staff
of General A. H. Colquitt, when in one of the Southern bat
tles he had lost a leg. He was tall and fair-haired, about
twenty-five years of age, modest, and I thought almost as
shy as a girl. In fact, any stranger would hardly have imag
ined, but for the evidence his empty pants leg and crutch
furnished, that this modest young man had already proved
himself a hero. Yet this was just what he had done.
His sister, Miss Lucy, was with him. During the even
ing I discovered that she was a lady of remarkable intelli
gence and information, ready to converse on any subject,
and combat any views in which she did not concur. She was
an independent thinker, formed her own conclusions, and
124 VORTY YEARS OF ACTIVK SKRVlCii
always had the courage of her convictions. In after years I
lived in the same town with Captain Grattan, and in fact
was his next-door neighbor; we practised law at the same
bar. After I became a judge I appointed him Common
wealth's Attorney, and from 1886 to 1904 he was the judge
of the same court over which I had presided, retiring only
when the court was abolished under the present Constitu
tion of Virginia. In war he proved himself to be true as a
soldier; in peace he proved himself worthy of every posi
tion he was called to fill.
As I have said, I only remained a single night at Major
Noland's. I sought boarding quarters and soon found
them. My knee had not improved as rapidly as I had hoped
it would, in fact it was worse than it was weeks before, and
finally my physician informed me that my recovery without
a stiff joint depended upon the greatest care; that I could
not stand the exposure of camp life in winter or cold
weather, and that I would not be able to return to the service
before spring without risking serious consequences.
The first of December came and I was still on crutches,
with no prospect of being able to lay them aside before
spring. I had a half-brother and half-sister living in and
near Enterprise, Mississippi, and I had not seen either of
them since I was a small boy. My sister was the youngest
and I was the eldest of my father's children by his first and
second marriages respectively. We were particularly at
tached to each other. She had been writing and urging me
to visit her whenever I got hurt, but I had never done so.
When I became convinced I would be on crutches until
spring, the pleasure of visiting my sister and brother, whom
I had not seen for years, came into my mind, and the more
I thought of it the more I was inclined to make the trip;
then my surgeon advised me that the warmer climate would
be beneficial to me, and that settled the matter. I ap
plied for a wounded furlough until March first; it was
quickly granted and I started. The trip was a long and
tedious one. Sherman had made his famous "march to the
sea" ; he had destroyed railroad tracks and bridges, and fre-
BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER S HIU, 125
quent connections were made in stage coaches and omni
buses, — all antiquated, — road wagons, even dump-carts, and
every conceivable vehicle drawn by horses or mules. Sev
eral times I was delayed an entire day, and often for
many hours, waiting for conveyances to carry persons from
one railroad to another or over breaks in the road by which
I had arrived at my halting point. However, on Christmas
morning, 1864, I arrived at my brother's home at Enter
prise, without any serious mishap on the route from Rich
mond, and the eldest born of each of my father's two sets
of children were locked in each other's embrace. My
brother was a man of over forty, large and stately in ap
pearance, with a family. I was twenty-three, tall and slen
der, "whole heart and fancy free." I drove out in a day or
two to see my sister, and it was a joyous meeting. I di
vided my time during my stay pretty equally between the
two homes. Very soon after my arrival at Enterprise I
met a lady of whom my sister had written me much. The
lady was quite a young widow, and a sister-in-law of my
sister's husband. With me "it was love at first sight/' and
my furlough being short, I lost no time in pressing my suit,
with the most gratifying result.
We were married on the 8th day of February, and I had
to use a crutch to support me while the marriage ceremony
was being performed. I wrote back to Virginia and asked
for a ten-clay extension of my furlough; it was granted.
On the first day of March I took leave of my wife, kindred,
and friends and started to rejoin my regiment. I did not ar
rive at Staunton until about the I2th, and as quickly as
possible reported for duty with my regiment, in the vicin
ity of Eden burg.
CHAPTER XV
EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END.
McNeill's Partisan Rangers — His Ride into Cumberland and Capture of
Generals Kelley and Crook the Boldest Achievement of the War-
Death of Lieutenant Meigs — Some "Scraps" — A Raid on My Own
Account — A Claim for the Soil of Shenandoah County — We Hear
of Lee's Surrender and are Incredulous — The Thought of Sub
jugation — A Message from General Hancock — My Address on Dis
banding the Regiment — Attempt to Join Johnston's Army.
My regiment, the Twenty-third; Gilmore's battalion and
McNeill's Partisan Rangers wrere the only Confederate sol
diers in the Valley on my return from the South. The first
two were on picket and scout duty, with a long range of
country to watch and guard with so small a force. They
were kept extremely busy and their service was hard. Mc-
Neill, who was a "free lance," with authority to go where
he pleased, and almost to do what he pleased, was constantly
watching for opportunities to surprise a picket post, scout
ing party, or wagon train, and was most successful.
With perhaps a hundred young, dashing and fearless fel
lows, well equipped and splendidly mounted, under him,
thoroughly familiar with the country, knowing every moun
tain pass, path, gorge and hiding place, every road and
stream, he was a veritable wizard in the art of surprising,
striking, retiring and escaping — one of the Marions of the
South. He was so bold and enterprising that he kept the
enemy constantly uneasy and anxious. He was of Virginia
descent, but a Missourian by birth, and was first lieutenant
in the company of which his father was captain, until his
father was killed, when he became captain and remained as
such until the war closed. He then returned to Missouri,
and I think he is still living there.
His raid into Cumberland, Maryland, deserves a place in
every book which treats of the stirring period of 1861 to
EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 127
1865. A force of about 10,000 Federals was encamped in
and around Cumberland, Maryland, and they felt secure
by reason of their numbers, and never dreamed that as bold
as McNeill was, he would ever think of coming so far from
his usual haunts, crossing the Potomac River and disturb
ing them, with their large cavalry force that could be put
instantly upon his trail. But McNeill, believing that they
felt safe and secure and would not be on the alert, deter
mined to raid them. So secretly moving his men to within
striking distance, under cover of darkness he advanced on
Cumberland. He surprised and captured, without firing a
shot, the sleepy pickets, and then boldly rode into the city,
and sent a detail to the hotel at which Generals Kelley and
Crook, the commanding generals, had their headquarters.
The detail, in charge of James Dailey, son of the proprietor
of the hotel, entered noiselessly and went to the rooms of
the two generals, finding them in bed. They were taken
prisoners and required at the muzzles of pistols to keep quiet
and dress quickly. In the meantime the generals' horses had
been saddled and bridled, and upon them they were mounted,
and McNeill and his men as noiselessly as possible rode out
of the city with their prisoners, and taking mountain paths
and urging their fleet-footed horses to their best, they were
in a few hours safe in a friendly section, where they rested.
Then resuming their march, after their rest, in two or three
clays they delivered the two captured generals to the Con
federate authorities at Staunton.
This was surely as bold and successful an achievement as
any during the war. McNeill with his 100 men rode directly
into a camp of 10,000 and brought out as prisoners the two
commanding generals. If this had been done by a Federal
officer he and his men would have had bestowed upon them
medals of honor, but the Confederacy gave no medals of
honor. McNeill would have been brevetted to high rank,
but the Confederacy was too near its end to show its appre
ciation of the brilliant achievement of her young captain.
In connection with this remarkable exploit I might men
tion the fact that at the time of his capture General Crook
128 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
was seeking the band of the sister of the young Confederate
who was in command of the detail that captured him. After
the General's release from prison he renewed his suit, and
the sister of his captor became his wife and followed his for
tunes in the far west and amid the dangers of Indian war
fare.
Following this achievement of McNeill, I record another
feat surely entitled to notice.
In the County of Rockingham there is a space of country
about three or four miles square, known as "the burnt dis
trict," so named because nearly every farm house of every
description was burned by an order of General Sheridan in
1864. Born and reared on a farm near Harrisonburg was a
young man by the name of Frank Shaver, who had little
more than passed his majority when Virginia issued her call
for troops. He volunteered in the cavalry, and developed
at once into a fearless and adventurous soldier. He took to
scout duty as naturally as a duck takes to water, and know
ing the country well, and ready to brave any danger and
take any risk, he was soon heralded as a superior scout. He
always operated with two or three men, and many were the
accounts given of his hovering around and in some instances
entering the Federal lines and making captures of men and
horses. He was so daring and adventurous and scouted so
close to the enemy that his information was always valuable
and reliable.
On the night before the day of General Sheridan's order,
Shaver with two men met in a road at the summit of a small
ridge a Federal cavalry officer and two men, who had come
out from their camp, which was near, to reconnoitre as it
was supposed. Both parties were surprised at the meeting,
but there was no faltering on either side. Pistols leaped
from their holsters and firing commenced, and in the short
est time it ceased, and the Federal officer and one of Shaver's
men had fallen from their horses dead, and Shaver and his
remaining man had the other two Federal cavalrymen pris
oners. The Federal officer proved to be Lieutenant Meigs,
EVENTS IN THE VAUvEY TOWARD THE END 129
an exceedingly promising and popular young officer, and a
son of General Meigs of the United States Army.
The body of the lieutenant was left undisturbed where it
fell, and the next morning, or perhaps that night, it was
borne to the Federal camp. It is said that Lieutenant Meigs
was a great favorite with General Sheridan, and under the
false charge that the Lieutenant had been murdered and his
men captured by farmers of the neighborhood, without stop
ping to investigate, the General issued and had executed his
unjustifiable and cruel order.
Shaver was a splendid type of physical manhood. He
was more than six feet in height, with dark complexion and
jet black hair and beard, and as straight as an Indian.
When he sheathed his sabre at the end of strife he took hold
of the plow handles and pursued the calling of husbandry
until his death several years ago. Through the years of
peace in which he lived he was an honored citizen, and his
chivalry and daring live in the memory of his people.
The Twenty-third had many "scraps," as the boys called
them — minor engagements, but always costing blood and
frequently lives, during March and April, until the surren
der.
On the 8th day of April (Saturday) I was encamped at
a hamlet called Paintertown, not far from Edenburg. About
two o'clock on that day I received a message from the signal
station at the point of the Massanutten Mountain at Stras-
burg, eighteen or twenty miles below or north of me, that a
force of Federal cavalry was approaching Strasburg; the
signal man estimated the number at 400. When they
reached Strasburg another message came that the atmos
phere had become so hazy and misty that it was impossible
to tell what direction they had taken. There were three
routes open to them. I immediately sent out scouts to find
them and report to me as soon as they were located. My
scouts did not return to me until late in the night, when they
reported that the Federal cavalry had continued on the pike
from Strasburg, and had encamped at Pugh's Run, two
miles beyond Woodstock and eight or nine miles from my
9
130 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
camp. All told, my numbers in camp did not exceed thirty-
five men.
I determined to attack the Federal camp. There was no
time to call men from the picket line, so I mounted 32 men,
including myself and my major, all without sabres, and
started. With the aid of a citizen guide we avoided the ene
my's pickets and got inside their picket line and within
three hundred yards of the camp without being discovered.
Here I dismounted the men and had the horses securely tied,
and leaving four men to look after the horses, I moved the
remainder across a field to a piece of woods in which the
Federal cavalry, in blissful ignorance of a Confederate being
within miles of them, were wrapped in sleep.
There was not a sound in their camp, except now and
then from a horse. Just at the first indication of daybreak
we had crawled to within a hundred feet or less of the
sleeping men, on the south side of their camp. Here we
rested for perhaps ten minutes to get our breath well, and
then I gave the command "charge!" The men sprang to
their feet and made the rush. The surprise was complete.
In the shortest time imaginable the whole force, except the
prisoners, and we had four or five each, were running for
dear life in every direction. No twenty-eight men in the
world ever made more noise or did more shooting in so little
time. We were loaded down with pistols and carbines,
which we had captured, and we kept up a perfect fusilade,
at the same time my bugler, who was Ammie Blackemore,
at present a worthy resident of Staunton, whom I had left
with the horses, was, as I had directed him, sounding the
cavalry charge with all the lung power his Maker had given
him, making the impression that our numbers were large.
As soon as the Federals had fled from the camp I thought
it prudent to get away, for light was coming, so I ordered
my men to secure as many horses as possible and retire to
our rallying point. The order was promptly obeyed, and
in a few minutes we were on our horses, leading the captured
ones, and making fast tracks, under the leadership of our
citizen guide, through the woods and bushes toward the
North Mountain.
EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 131
We brought out many horses, some of them very fine.
We were not pursued a yard.
We reached our camp about ten o'clock, but the captured
horses were taken to a more secure place, though I hardly
expected the Federals to advance farther. I predicted that
their flight and the loss they had sustained would induce
them to return, and my prediction was right. They did not
venture back into their camp until full daylight, and then
they moved slowly and cautiously, evidently fearing that
they might strike trouble, to Woodstock, and there turned
about and retired down the Valley, with their wagons loaded
with wounded men, and several dead, as I was informed.
We had one man, Wash Walters, of Mount Jackson, a
faithful and true soldier, painfully but not dangerously
wounded. He is still living, and has been for years a pas
senger engineer on a Western railroad.
The Federals, consisting of detachments from several
regiments, and numbering 375, under the command of
Major Martindale, had started from Winchester to go
as far up the Valley as Harrisonburg, but they stopped
at less than half way the distance to the point of their des
tination. It is due to my little squad of brave young fel
lows who were with me that April morning, 1865, to say
that I do not think the records of our war can furnish an
instance where 28 men attacked 375 with more signal suc
cess. For them I claim that their work was not excelled
during the four years of strife.
It was said Major Martindale, upon arriving at Winches
ter, reported that he had been attacked by a large body of
infantry and cavalry, and that there was a considerable Con
federate force in the Valley. Whether he made such a report
or not, I do not know. But on the following Tuesday a
force of 3,500 cavalry, under the command of General Tor-
bert, moved up the Valley as far as Mount Jackson. In
front of him I had perhaps as many as 350 men. He moved
slowly, and only a few times was my advance charged or
driven back upon the reserve. What General Torbert's pur
pose was I never learned, but it gave color to the rumor as to
132 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Martindale's report — particularly his slow and deliberate
movement. During Tuesday night General Torbert com
menced to retire ; \ve followed close on his heels, and at or
about sunrise on Wednesday we charged his rear guard, a
short distance below Woodstock, and captured two or three
prisoners and sent them to Staunton.
And now I come to make the claim that it was upon the
soil of Shenandoah County that the last Confederate line
was held, the last fight made, and the last prisoner captured
by any part of the Army of Northern Virginia. I make the
further claim that my little command held the last Confed
erate line, made the last fight, and captured the last pris
oner held, made and captured upon the soil of old Virginia.
If there should be "a doubting Thomas" anywhere, these
claims can be established, I am sure, by the records and a
host of living witnesses. I have never heard them ques
tioned, and I record them here simply that they may be
perpetuated and not fade away as the coming years run
their cycles.
On Wednesday, April I2th, I moved back to New Mar
ket and went into camp near the town. Thursday morning
I was startled by a rumor that General Lee had surrendered.
My men heard it at the same time. I denied it. "It could
not be true. General Lee has not surrendered! It is im
possible!"
My men denounced the rumor and the man who circu
lated it. In a little while Captain A. J. Adams sent for me
to come to New Market. I rode there rapidly, and I found
Adams talking with a half dozen or more cavalrymen. He
said, "These men say General Lee has surrendered, but I
don't believe a word of it." I questioned the men. They
were perfectly frank, and told me they were returning to the
army, but when they got to Staunton they were told that
General Lee had surrendered ; that everybody there knew
it. I asked them where they were going? They replied to
their homes. I said, "No, you can't go through my lines.
You must go out to my camp and stay there for the pres
ent" They readily consented and rode to camp with me.
EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 133
The realization of the truth of the rumor I had heard ear
lier in the day began to take possession of me. The more
I talked with the returning men, the more I became con
vinced that the death knell of the Confederacy had been
sounded, and yet ever and anon hope would well up in my
breast and I would cast aside even the possibility of such a
thing.
My men were more incredulous than myself ; the most of
them believed it to be a canard, and they were inclined to
look suspiciously upon the men who had come from Staun-
ton, and to hint that there was something wrong about them,
and they had better be watched. The night passed; a
sleepless night to me. I could not imagine why, if the sur
render had occurred on the previous Sunday as these men
said, no official information had reached me. Then I re
membered that there was no telegraph line, and any infor
mation would have to come by mounted messenger.
"Who would send it?" This question would constantly
be asked mentally? It would be presumed, I would argue,
that the news would fly on swift wings and it would cer
tainly reach me and I would govern myself accordingly.
But, I would still argue, suppose the presumption was cor
rect, and the news did reach me, how could I know what to
do unless I also knew the terms of the surrender. How-
could I know whether or not my command was included in
the surrender unless I was informed as to the terms. If I
acted upon the presumption that my command was em
braced and it was not, what an embarrassing position I
would be placed in if I struck my colors, stacked my arms,
and surrendered. If, upon the other hand, my command
was embraced in the terms of surrender and I continued in
the field, what would be my position under military law.
Then the thought of subjugation and what would be the
fate of our people if the Confederacy had in fact fallen
would take possession of me, and I would think of the fate
of other conquered and subjugated lands, of the persecution
and wrongs, oppression and trials under which they had suf
fered; how the hot iron had been plunged into the very
134 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
souls of their people and the heavy chariot wheels of power
had been driven mercilessly over them. With sleepless eye
lids and perturbed brain, my heart throbbing as it had never
throbbed before, and my nervous system at the highest ten
sion, J spent the night.
By sunrise I had arisen from my restless bunk. It was
Friday morning, and while the meadows in which our
horses were grazing seemed more verdant and the trees
more forward than I had ever seen them ; in fact, while all
nature seemed to my senses to be brighter and sweeter than
ever before, there appeared to be sadness in the sun's rays
and in the chirping of the birds and in all animate sounds.
The thoughts of the previous night had brought sadness to
the faces of my men, and they who on the evening before
would not tolerate the idea of Lee's surrender had evidently
changed their minds during the still, reflecting hours be
tween the setting and rising sun. They were realizing the
probable truth of the rumor of the downfall of the Confed
eracy and its consequences. There was absence of the usual
mirth and hilarity of the camp — no songs or laughter were
heard, everything was as quiet as a Sabbath day.
The morning hours wore away and midday came, and no
more tidings reached us. But the suspense was soon to be
relieved and all lingering doubts removed, for under a flag
of truce I received a message; it was from General Winfield
S. Hancock, commanding the Federal army in the Valley.
I cannot after so many years give the language, but he in
formed me that General Lee had surrendered, and unless I
did so at once he would be compelled to bring me and
my men in as prisoners of war.
For some time after the war closed the rumor was cur
rent that I sent him word to go to a place not made
for the righteous. The rumor was without foundation, and
I could never imagine how it originated. His message was
entirely courteous, and of course my reply was equally so,
and to the effect that I had no official information of the
surrender ; that I had certain orders and should endeavor to
obey them until they were countermanded, and that I had
no idea of surrendering.
EVENTS IN THE VAW<EY TOWARD THE END 135
In an hour or two after I had replied to General Han
cock's message a courier rode into my camp from Staunton,
and handed me a communication from Ma j. -Gen. L. L.
Lomax, commanding the Valley District, informing me offi
cially of General Lee's surrender, and saying, "You can
either surrender or disband." I determined very quietly I
would not march to Winchester and surrender ; but whether
I should disband or hold my men together and attempt to
join Johnston's army, which was still in the field, was a
question I could not easily decide. I finally came to the
conclusion that I had no right or power to hold the regiment
together as an organization; that I must disband it and
leave every man free to do as he pleased — go to his home or
to Johnston.
Assembling my officers, I read General Lomax' s commu
nication to them, and announced my conclusions, in which
they concurred. I then ordered the regiment to be formed,
and when all the companies were in line I took my position
in front of them and addressed them, as near as I can recall
my words, as follows :
"Officers and men of the Twenty-third Cavalry:
"I am in receipt of a communication from Maj. Gen. L.
L. Lomax, commanding the Valley District, informing me
officially of the surrender of the Army of Northern Vir
ginia, by General Lee. That this act was necessary and
wise admits of no doubt when we know that it was the act
of Robert E. Lee. The communication states that I can
either surrender or disband. I shall not surrender, but I
do not feel that I have the right or power to hold you
together as a regiment, so I shall presently disband you and
leave each one of you to determine for yourself whether
your duty as a Confederate is ended and you are fully ab
solved from your obligation to your Southland. So far as
I am personally concerned, I shall not unbuckle my sabre
or lay aside my pistols as long as there is a Confederate
army in the field anywhere upon Southern soil. Two such
armies — Johnston and Smith — still have their colors flying,
and I shall leave this night to join Johnston.
136 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
"Before taking leave of you, I must congratulate you
upon the faithful manner in which you have discharged
your duty and the courage and heroism, patriotism and de
votion, you have ever displayed, even amid privations and
sufferings of the severest kind. No soldiers of the South
are more justly entitled to her gratitude than yourselves.
"I desire to thank you for the uniform kindness and con
sideration you have showed me at all times, and the prompt
ness with which you have obeyed my orders. I shall carry
you all in my memory to my latest day.
"I now declare the Twenty-third Regiment of Virginia
Cavalry relieved from further service and disbanded."
I was of course without experience as a speaker, yet every
word I uttered seemed to strike deep into the souls of my
men, for they came from the heart. While I was talking I
could see tears streaming down many a cheek, and fre
quently I could hear deep-drawn sighs and sobs partially
suppressed. It was a scene of intense sadness; sorrow was
in every face.
After the disbandment the regiment gathered in little
groups, and so far as I ever heard there was not a man who
did not think his duty was not ended ; but the most of them
felt that they should go to their homes, look after their
families, get clothing or fresh horses, and then if Johnston's
army continued in the field, join it.
That night about thirty of my men, including Captain A.
J. Adams, one of the truest and gamest men I ever saw,
started with me to Johnston's army. We gathered in New
Market, and the whole population turned out to bid us fare
well.
Every one of us, I think, was personally known to the
people of this loyal and open-doored town, and some of our
squad had relatives living there.
Generally there were only patriarchs and small boys
among the males, for the young and able-bodied men of the
town were in the army and had not yet returned; but
all the matrons, young women, and girls were present to say
good-by and breathe benediction upon our heads, and pray
EVENTS IN THE VAU.EY TOWARD THE END 137
that "the South may even yet be successful." The scene
was indeed a stirring one and worthy of any painter's brush.
We moved out toward Staunton and encamped after rid
ing about six miles. Early the next day we rode into
Staunton, to the surprise of the citizens, who supposed that
every Confederate soldier was at home or on his way, and
the idea that our destination was Johnston's army amazed
them. They were all disposed to give us credit for our
loyalty, but many of them thought it would be "a wild goose
chase" and perfectly futile. A gentleman of prominence,
with whom I afterwards became well acquainted, expressed
himself in this wise : "The Army of Northern Virginia and
Robert E. Lee constituted the backbone of the Confederacy.
With its backbone broken how can any sensible man believe
the Confederacy can live for ten days, even in name. These
boys are allowing their feelings to drive out their senses.
They had better go to their homes and put their horses to
the plow and then take hold of the handles."
As I look back now, I am ready to admit there was wis
dom in these words, but none of us thought so at the time,
and one of the party expressed the opinion that this promi
nent citizen "could never have been much of a Confederate,
or he wouldn't talk that way" ; but this was not so, for he
had been a staunch Confederate.
At Staunton I met Colonel Michael G. Harman, who had
been disabled in the Battle of McDowell while commanding
the Fifty-eighth Regiment of Virginia Infantry. Calling
me to him he asked me if I had any money. I replied, "Oh
yes, I have plenty of Confederate money." Putting his
hand into his pocket he pulled out two twenty-dollar gold
pieces and said, "Take this money ; you will need it. Your
Confederate money will do you no good." I replied, "Col
onel, I thank you, but I may never be able to return it, so
I must decline your kind offer." He said, "You shall take
it," and dropped the pieces in my pocket. He then talked
with me about our plans, and while he did not discourage
me, I realized before long that he thought we were doing
a senseless thing.
138 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Colonel Harman, who in a few months became my warm
and staunch friend and remained so until his death, was the
father of Asher W. Harman, who has been for many years
the State Treasurer of Virginia, and possesses the noble
traits of his father.
Before our party could reach Johnston's army it had sur
rendered, and we disbanded and scattered.
In a few days I arrived at Lynchburg. There I met Cap
tain Frank Berkeley, who had been the Adjutant-General of
Imboden's brigade, and together we rode by way of the
tow-path of the James River and Kanawha Canal to Lex
ington, and thence to Staunton, his home, and where I lo
cated and entered business pursuits.
Captain Berkeley was not only a distinguished soldier,
but a most courteous and polished gentleman, a genial com
panion, and sincere friend. He has joined the mighty host,
rjut he will ever live green in my memory.
CHAPTER XVI
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE.
On Parole — He Couldn't Run Fast Enough — A Demoralized Man — A
Use For Tar— Persimmons— Wished He Was a Gal Baby— A
General and a Driver — A Devoted Negro Servant — The "Question of
Lee's Army" — Governor Smith — He Feared the Rays of the Sun
More than he did the Enemy's Bullets — A Gallant Major of the
Twenty-third — The Infernal "Jessie Scouts."
Soon after I had located at Staunton I was paroled by a
General Duval of West Virginia, who was in command of
some Federal troops stationed there, and this ended my life
as a Confederate soldier.
There were many amusing incidents during the four
years, which I have not related, that I am sure would inter
est and amuse my readers. Some of them I will notice,
even at the risk of being regarded as prolix.
At the Second Battle of Manassas a gray- jacket was seen
making tracks to the rear as fast as his feet would carry
him. An officer riding to the front said, "Hello there, what
are you running so for?" The fellow, without turning his
head, as he leaped a fence without touching it, replied, "Be
cause I can't fly !" He told the truth, for had he wings he
would have winged his flight to realms of safety.
In one of the battles below Richmond another fellow
wearing the Confederate gray was running away from the
battle, rushing through the bushes and clearing everything
in his course. He was asked what was the matter with
him, when he called back, "Nothing in particular, but Fse
the worst demoralized man in this whole army."
In passing, regiments would jeer and make flings at each
other. On one occasion a Virginia cavalry regiment was
passing a North Carolina regiment, and they were hurling
their witticisms at each other. A Virginian, catching the
eye of a big North Carolinian, asked him if he had been
home lately. "Oh yes," said the North Carolinian. "Did
I4O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
you bring any tar back with you?" said the Virginian.
"Yes," retorted the North Carolinian, "our general ordered
me to bring a whole car-load back?" "What for?" asked
the Virginian. "To let your general have it to put on your
heels, to make you stick in the next fight!" This was a
home thrust, for the Virginia regiment it was thought had
recently made too rapid a "retrograde" movement.
The soldiers did not confine their humor or even badger
ing always to themselves. At times they made hits at their
officers.
A party of cavalrymen were gathering persimmons that
were not ripe. An officer who was passing ordered them
to let the persimmons alone, that they were so green they
would draw their mouths up. "That's why we want them ;
we want to draw our mouths up to the size of our rations."
The Colonel had not been taking good care of his men, and
their rations were small.
The night before the Battle of Port Republic a drafted
man was heard away off from the camp going on at a terri
ble rate. A passing soldier hearing the noise and suppos
ing it came from a sick and suffering man went to him, and
asked him what was the matter with him. He replied :
"Why, I am just about scared to death. They have
brought me from home and put me in this army. I don't
know how to fight, and can't fight, and I will just be shot
down like a dog. O Lord, have mercy upon me ! O Lord,
deliver me !" The soldier tried to infuse some courage into
him, but the fellow got worse. Finally the soldier said :
"Get up here, you miserable coward! You should be
ashamed of yourself. You are behaving worse than a big
baby."' The fellow blubbered out, "Baby, you say; I wish
I was a baby, and a gal baby too !"
In the early part of the struggle our army in the moun
tains of West Virginia met with many reverses and were
kept constantly "on the move." The roads were wretched
and the horses were broken down, and the men were dis
heartened and discouraged. On a certain retreat a wagon
stuck in a mud hole, and the driver was cracking his whip
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE 14!
and lashing his team in order to get out and get on, for the
boys in blue were close on the rear. The general command
ing rode up and rebuked him for cruelty to his horses, and
said, "Here is a good team that is being spoiled by a mighty
poor driver." The driver replied : "Do you think so, Gen
eral. Well, they tell me, General, — God knows, I don't
know, — that this is a good army that is being spoiled by a
mighty poor general. But as I said, General, God knows,
I don't know."
In fact, neither the general nor the driver was at fault.
The wagon was overloaded, the horses were poor and weak.
The topography of the country and the sentiment of the
people were against us, and any position could easily be
Hanked with the aid of the mountain guides who were
always at hand, thick as hops.
All of our drillmasters were by no means West Pointers
or Virginia Institute cadets.
In a certain company an Irishman was ordered to drill a
raw squad. His first command was, "Presint arms!"
They presented. The sergeant exclaimed: "Hivens!
what a presint. Just sthep out here now an' look at yer-
selves !"
The devotion to their masters of the negro body-servants
of the Confederate officers was great. Occasionally one of
them would be captured, but I never heard of a single in
stance in which one of them enlisted in the Federal Army,
or who did not return to his master if it were possible. I
heard this story of an old man who was picked up by a
scouting party, but was released or made his escape. When
he got back to the Confederate camp he was delighted, and
told his master that they tried to get him to enlist in the
Federal Army. His master asked him what he said to
them. He replied: "Massa, I had to argerfy with them
right smart. I said to de officer, 'Massa, did you ebber see
two dogs a fightin' ober a bone.' He said, 'Sartainly/ 'Wall,
did you ebber see de bone fightin' ?' He said, 'No.' 'Wall,
Massa, you bofe fightin' arid I is de bone. Guess dis nigger
won't fight.' "
142 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The Valley of Virginia was styled "the granary of Lee's
Army," and it was so almost literally. In 1863 the wheat
crop was unusually fine; the fields were radiant in their
golden hue of harvest time as Lee's army moved along
through Clarke County to the sanguinary field of Gettys
burg.
The sight was a surprise to the troops from the far South
ern States; they had never seen such a growth of the cereal.
I was told that they gave expression to their surprise in
various ways. Some \vould say, "Did anybody ever see
such wheat since the days of ancient Egypt?" Others,
"Look here, fellows, tell me what they will do with all this
wheat ? They can't stack it on this field ; they will have to
haul a heap of it off and thresh it on other ground." "See
here, Bill, we have been mighty short of wheat bread, but
if Marse Robert will just take care of this crop, we won't
be short of flour rations again." "I tell you, Jake, I have
been afraid the Yankees would starve us out, but now I am
satisfied. Why, we will have wheat to sell."
And thus these boys from where the opening cotton bolls
had always been to them things of beauty, and made them
regard "Cotton as King," would give vent to their feelings
as they marched along with nimble steps, bound to some
carnage ground, they knew not \vhere; but it proved to be
the hills of Gettysburg, as I have stated, where many of
them fell, and never returned to eat the bread made from
that or any other wheat crop.
The Governor of Virginia at the conclusion of the war
was William Smith, of Fauquier County, whose term com
menced January, 1864. This was his second term; his
first was eighteen years previous. Of all of Virginia's gov
ernors since her statehood began, only three have filled the
chair twice — Patrick Henry, James Monroe and William
Smith.
Governor Smith was sixty-four years old when President
Lincoln issued his proclamation calling for troops to subju
gate the seceding States. He came of fighting, fearless,
and dauntless stock. In his veins coursed the blood of the
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE 143
Doniphans, three of whom, brothers, in America's War for
Independence were in the company commanded by John
Marshall, afterwards Chief Justice of the United States,
whose fame will last as long, yes, longer than this Republic,
if this Republic should ever die. At the Battle of Brandy-
wine one of the Doniphan brothers was killed.
President Lincoln's proclamation, it is said, aroused Gov
ernor Smith's indignation to the highest pitch. His words
of condemnation flowed as hot as lava from his tongue, and
he proceeded at once to raise a regiment and equip it from
his own pocket, and then to tender it to Governor John
Letcher. The regiment was accepted instantly and Gov
ernor Smith was commissioned colonel of it. At the head
of his regiment, the Forty-ninth Virginia Infantry, he went
into the field and where dangers were the thickest. After
he had been several times wounded he was promoted to
be a brigadier-general.
In 1863 persistent efforts were made by his friends to in
duce him to become a candidate for Governor, but he was
loath to leave the military service; finally, however, he
yielded to the constant and earnest solicitations that were
reaching him from every direction, and became a candidate
a second time for gubernatorial honors. He was elected
over his two competitors, both distinguished and true sons
of the old Commonwealth, by a handsome, in fact large,
majority. He was at the helm of the State government
during the fast waning days of the Confederacy, — the last
fifteen months of its life, — and remained at his post until
the evacuation of Richmond, and he was the last State or
Confederate official to leave the Capital City on that event
ful, dismal, and tearful night, the second day of April, 1865.
For some days after the evacuation Governor Smith kept
himself at a safe distance from the Federals, being told that
a reward of $25,000 had been offered for his arrest; but
his proud and brave spirit soon tired of moving about from
point to point, and though he was admonished by friends
that he would be treated roughly if he fell into the hands of
the Federals, he resolved to cease his wanderings and sur-
144 I'ORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
render himself, and by messenger so informed the Federal
authorities. In a short time he repaired to Richmond and
reported, I think, to the provost marshal, and instead of
harsh treatment he was treated with the utmost consider
ation, and before long he was permitted to go with his
family to his Warrenton home.
Governor Smith was a remarkable man. He had served
in both branches of the General Assembly of his State, in
the National House of Representatives, and was elected
Governor in 1843 and 1863, filling every position with
marked ability and fidelity. He was an exceedingly strong
debater and a power on the hustings — in fact in his prime
he had no superior and few equals in the State, rich in able
and forceful sons; and no political opponent ever met him
in joint discussion without feeling the sting of his invective,
the stroke of his irony, or his trenchant blows of logic. He
was idolized by his party — the Democratic — and was feared
by its foe.
With a competency he had retired from active politics,
and was living quietly at his beautiful home near Warren-
ton in the midst of culture and refinement, among the
Keiths, Huntons, Scotts, Paynes, Brookes, Gaineses, and
scores of other families equally cultured and refined, when
war clouds gathered, and the subjugation of the South
aroused him to action. At the age of more than ninety
years he died. He appears in Virginia's galaxy as one of
her brightest stars, and in the niches of her Memory's Tem
ple she has carved his name.
For myself, my heart prompts me to declare that 1 ad
mired him in life, and in his sepulchre I revere his memory.
There was a story in connection with him that went the
rounds of the camps, that so exemplified his fearlessness or
disregard for danger in the line of duty as to entitle it to a
place on these pages. He insisted on carrying a green um
brella over him, after he entered the Army, on a hot day to
shield himself from the rays of the sun. He would carry it in
the fierceness of battle as well as on the march or in camp.
In a certain battle he was moving from point to point along
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE 145
his line, with his umbrella hoisted, when the commanding
general sent him a message suggesting that he lower his
umbrella as he was making himself a special target for the
enemy and incurring unnecessary danger. He replied :
"Give General my compliments, and tell him not to
trouble himself as to my safety. I fear the rays of the sun
more than I do the enemy's bullets."
I was with Imboden in his fight at Charlestown, Jeffer
son County, West Virginia. This was a pretty lively en
gagement, but our troops were well handled, and while we
were forced to withdraw, it was done skilfully and in per
fect order. In this fight Major Fielding H. Calmese, of
the Twenty-third Cavalry, had his left arm shattered by a
ball, between the elbow and shoulder ; several inches of bone
were resected, depriving him of the use of his arm above
the elbow, but not below, and he could manage his bridle
reins about as well as before he was injured.
His gallantry was ever conspicuous, and he was an ex
emplary Confederate soldier. If the Confederacy had con
ferred medals for deeds of daring, his breast, like
others I have mentioned, would have been covered with
them. While he was still suffering from his wound
in the arm, he could not be induced to remain quiet
in the camp, in the hospital, or at some house where
he would have been welcomed most cordially, but insisted
upon scouting and watching the movements of the enemy.
This restless and determined spirit led to his capture. Just
below Strasburg he was riding down the Valley Turnpike,
bound for the neighborhood of the Federal camp several
miles distant, when he saw a body of perhaps twenty men,
dressed in full Confederate uniforms, coming toward him.
Not suspecting that their uniforms did not truly repre
sent the side to which they belonged, he rode on until he
met them. Instantly twenty pistols were aimed at him and
his surrender was demanded, and there was nothing for
him to do but to surrender or unnecessarily yield up his life ;
so he surrendered and was sent to prison. These gray-
coated fellows turned out of course to be Federals disguised
10
146 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
in Confederate uniforms, and became known from that time
as a band of unscrupulous and degraded fellows, called
"Jessie scouts," and they were active in picking up unsus
pecting Confederate cavalrymen and robbing them, and in
plundering farm houses.
It was hard to catch any of them, for they never ventured
where there was much danger, and besides in their Confed
erate gray they looked like the rest of us. But occasionally
we would nab one of them, and he did not receive the treat
ment of prisoners captured in their blue uniforms and in
their true colors ; but I do not think we ever caught any of
them within our lines, and I never heard of a "Jessie" dang
ling in mid-air.
CHAPTER XVII
THE PERSONNEL, OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY.
A Vast Majority of Major and Brigadier-Generals on Both Sides Com
paratively Young Men — A List of Seventeen under Thirty — A List
of Confederate Generals of Northern Birth— What the Words "Con
federate Soldier" stood for — Some Few of the Many Stored in my
Memory— What Constitutes a Brave Man— The Term "Rebel"
Preferred to that of "Secessionist"— A Poem— The Oath of
Allegiance.
How few of the present generation know that a vast ma
jority of the major and brigadier-generals who led both the
blue and the gray to renown were young men — far on the
sunny side of even middle age.
There were thirty-four major-generals in the Confederate
Army whose average age at the commencement of the war
was thirty-two years; seventeen of them were thirty and
less. These seventeen were from the following States:
From Virginia — John Pegram (29), Thomas L. Rosser
(24), Fitzhugh Lee (25), William H. F. Lee (24), James
E. B. Stuart (28), and Lunsford L. Lomax (26); total,
six. From Alabama — William Wirt Adams (26) and
Evander M. Law (25) ; total, two. From Georgia —
Pierce M. B. Young (21). From North Carolina — Robert
F. Hoke (24), William D. Pender (27), and Stephen D.
Ransom (24) ; total, three. From Missouri — John L.
Marmaduke (28). From Louisiana — Camille A. J. M.
Polignac (29). From South Carolina — Matthew C. Butler
(24), late United States Senator, and Ellison Capers (23),
now an Episcopal bishop; total, two.
There were seventy-eight brigadier-generals in the Con
federate Army whose average age at the beginning of the
war was thirty-one years; thirty-nine of them were thirty
and under. These thirty-nine were from the following
States: From Virginia— Seth M. Barton (28), John R.
Chambliss (28), James Bearing (21), John Echols (28),
148 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Samuel Garland (30), Edmund G. Lee (26), Thomas T.
Munford (30), James B. Terrill (23), and James A.
Walker (29) ; total, nine. From Arkansas — Lucien C.
Polk (27). From Texas — James T. Major (28), Horace
Randal (30), Lawrence S. Ross (23), and William H.
Young (23) ; total, four. From Florida — Edward A.
Perry (28), and Francis A. Shoup (27); total, two.
From Kentucky — Hylan B. Lyon (25). From Missis
sippi — James R. Chalmers (30), and Edward C. Walthall
(30), late United States Senator; total, two. From Ala
bama — Pinckney D. Bowles (23), James Deshler (28),
Archibald Gracie (27), James T. Holtzclaw (27), George
D. Johnston (29), John H. Kelley (21), John C. C. Sand
ers (21), Charles M. Shelley (27), and Edward D. Tracy
(28) ; total, nine. From Georgia — Robert H. Anderson
(25), Dudley M. DuBose (26), and George P. Harrison
(21) ; total, three. From Tennessee — William H. Jack
son (25), James E. Rains (28), and Marcus J. Wright
(30) ; total, three. From West Virginia — Albert G. Jenk
ins (30). From Missouri — John B. Clark (30), Francis
M. Cockerill (26), for years United States Senator, and
Joseph O. Shelby (30) ; total, three. From Louisiana —
Francis J. Nicholls (29).
It will be observed that Georgia furnished the youngest
major-general, and that Virginia, Alabama, and Georgia
furnished the four youngest brigadier-generals — all being
only twenty-one years of age when the tocsin was sounded.
I have not the data from which I can gather much infor
mation as to the ages of the prominent Federal leaders, but
I have little doubt that the preponderance of young men-
men far below middle age — was great. I know that the il
lustrious Grant was only thirty-nine; McClellan, "who sank
into the mere shadow of a great name" through injustice
and intrigue, was thirty- four; Philip H. Sheridan, the
hard rider and hard fighter, was thirty, and George A. Cus-
ter, the ideal soldier and one of the most brilliant figures the
war produced, was only twenty-one when the sections
stripped themselves for the terrible conflict.
THE PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
149
It may not be generally known that at least one Confed
erate major-general and sixteen Confederate brigadier-
generals were of Northern birth. The following is the list :
Where enlisted.
Florida.
Where enlisted.
Texas.
u
Florida.
Virginia.
Louisiana.
a
Arkansas.
«
Missouri.
Alabama.
South Carolina.
MAJOR-GENERAL.
Name.
Martin L. Smith.
BRIGADIER-GENERALS.
Name.
William Steele.
Lawrence S. Ross.
Edward A. Perry.
Francis A. Shoup.
Daniel Ruggles.
Julius A. DeLagnal.
M. D. Corse.
Walter H. Stevens.
Albert G. Blanchard-
Johnson K. Duncan.
Albert Pike.
Daniel H. Reynolds.
Daniel M. Frost.
Archibald Gracie.
Danville Leadbetter.
Clement H. Stevens.
State of birth.
New York.
State of birth.
New York.
Iowa.
Massachusetts.
Indiana.
Massachusetts-
New Jersey.
District of Columbia.
New York.
Massachusetts.
Pennsylvania.
Massachusetts.
Ohio.
New York.
New York.
Mainei.
Connecticut.
The recalling of the names of these gallant officers of the
Southern Army who were of Northern birth brings me to
remark that the sentiments that prompted men to espouse
the cause of the North or South were instilled by the teach
ings of their surroundings and formulated by their environ
ments. Whether a man was a Unionist or Secessionist de
pended almost entirely upon where he lived and his teach
ings. Many a Northern soldier sealed his devotion to his
cause with his blood, who if he had lived and been educated
in the South would as freely have given his life for the Con
federacy, and vice versa.
The words "Confederate soldier" stood as a synonym of
courage. There were some cowards, as there have been in
every army that ever floated a flag, but there were not many.
If I were to attempt to give the names of the Confederate
soldiers who came under my observation whose courage was
always conspicuous, it would require countless pages.
150 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
I shall select from the mighty list stored in my memory
only a few names, which I present as the names of officers
who were true exemplars of the standard Confederate sol
dier. They are all taken from the Twelfth and Twenty-
third regiments of cavalry, to which I was attached at differ
ent times, and Chew's battery and McClanahan's battery,
which were closely connected with the two regiments re
spectively. The list is as follows: Asher W. Harman,
colonel of the Twelfth ; Thos. B. Massie, lieutenant-colonel
of the Twelfth ; Lewis Harman, adjutant of the Twelfth ;
George Baylor, lieutenant of the Twelfth, Granville East
man, lieutenant of the Twelfth ; Roger Chew, colonel of
Chew's battery; James Thompson, major in Chew's bat
tery, killed at High Bridge; Harry Gilmor, captain in
Twelfth cavalry, afterwards major of Gilmor's battalion ;
Emanuel Sipe, captain in Twelfth ; George J. Grandstaff,
captain in Twelfth; Fielding H. Calmese, major of
Twenty-third ; M. C. Richardson, captain in Twenty-third :
A. J. Adams, captain in Twenty-third; J. W. Drew, cap
tain in Twenty-third ; Carter Berkeley, lieutenant in Mc
Clanahan's battery.
Holding these men as exemplary Confederate soldiers
and conspicuous for their courage, let us consider what con
stitutes courage; in a word, what is courage? What is it
that strengthens a man in the storm of battle and times of
danger, and makes him face perils and die if need be for a
cause or a principle? It is nonsense for any man to tell me
that he likes to hear bullets whizzing and shells shrieking
about him, crimsoning the ground with human blood and
dealing death to human beings all around him. No king or
prince, private or officer, peasant or highborn subject, if he
were to swear upon the Bible most Holy, that he delighted
in such perils, would I believe. God has implanted in every
human being an aversion to danger. He has endowed him
with the instinct of self-preservation, and to avoid dangers,
steer clear of pit-falls and dead-falls, destructive missiles
and the vapors and miasma that breed distempers and dis
ease. This is the rational, natural, normal man. His op-
THE PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 15 1
posite is an unnatural, abnormal, and irrational being of
God's creation, fit only for a madhouse.
What then is true, manly courage?
I can formulate no better definition than by quoting the
words of Joanna Baillie: "The brave man is not he who
feels no fear; for that were stupid and irrational; but he
whose noble soul subdues its fear and bravely bears the
danger nature shrinks from." Or by quoting Plutarch:
"Courage consists not in hazarding without fear, but being
resolutely minded in a just cause" ; with this amendment
"or a cause he believed to be just." Or by quoting Welling
ton : "The brave man is he who realizes his danger, but
faces it firmly and resolutely, and not he who like a horse
heedlessly rushes forward, not realizing his peril."
Many a man went into battle with blanched cheek and
trembling limb and never faltered, however thick came the
rain of bullets or shower of shell.
At this late day it is unnecessary for me to declare that
the Confederate soldier believed his cause was just. No
body of men would ever have enlisted under a flag and for
four years exposed their lives and scattered their wounded
and dead from the Pennsylvania hills to the plains of Texas,
fought until they were shoeless and almost naked, suffered
the pangs of hunger almost to starvation, left mothers,
wives, daughters and sisters to struggle unaided to keep
body and soul together — unless they believed in the right
eousness of their cause and the sacredness of the principles
they were maintaining and defending.
The Southerners have been styled "rebels." I accept the
appellation; it is not at all offensive to me. The right of
secession has been claimed by many able and distinguished
jurists and constitutional lawyers, but I have never been
convinced that the right existed. The arguments pro and
con have always left me in doubt, with an inclination in my
mind against the abstract right. But in spite of charters,
compacts, and constitutions, a people who conscientiously
believe they have been oppressed and wronged and can se
cure no redress have the inborn right to throw off the yoke
152 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
that galls and strike for their liberties. I wrould rather be
termed a rebel than a secessionist. The former makes no
attempt to shield himself behind an asserted reserved right
in a compact; the latter seeks to justify his action by as
serting a compact or constitutional right, to be exercised at
the will and pleasure of a State. I do not believe the fathers
ever intended to create a Union of States to be broken at
any time by a discontented State. It would have lacked all
cohesive power, and it would have been as unstable as "a
rope of sand" — a Union to-day ; a broken and dismembered
Union to-morrow.
Yes, I prefer the term "rebel" to the term "secessionist."
I would rather stand upon the eternal principles of the De
claration of Independence and upon which the fathers of the
Republic acted, than upon the assertion of an implied right
claimed under the compact between the States.
George Washington and his compatriots were rebels, and
gloried in the term, because they believed in their heart of
hearts that their cause was just. Why should the followers
of Davis and Lee disdain the term "rebels"? They were
just as much in revolt against the United States Government
as were the people of Massachusetts when they threw over
board the tea in Boston harbor. I remember with what
gusto and feeling the Confederate camps would often re
sound after nightfall with the refrain :
"Rebels! 'tis a holy name!
The name our fathers bore
When battling in the Cause of Right
Against the tyrant in his might,
In the dark days of yore.
"Rebels! 'tis a patriot's name!
In struggles it was given;
We bore it then when tyrants raved,
And through their curses 'twas engraved
On the doomsday-book of Heaven.
•'Then call us rebels, if you will —
We glory in the name :
For bending under unjust laws,
And swearing faith to an unjust cause,
We count a greater shame."
THE PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 153
This is the way I feel in this year of our Lord,' 1904;
that is, I feel that from 1861 to 1865 I was a rebel, and that
with heart and soul, might and main, as one of the units in
the 600,000 soldiers the South had on her rolls, I strove to
make the revolt a success and to establish the independence
of the South and place the Confederate Republic among the
nationalities of the earth, and to float her flag of stars and
bars in every pathway of commerce, in every harbor and
over every sea of the inhabited globe. But there is no
longer a spirit of revolt or rebellion in my bosom. With
Lee's surrender at Appomattox, though feeling as keenly
as mortal man could feel the downfall of Southern hopes, I
took my oath of allegiance to the Government of the United
States "without mental reservation or secret evasion of
mind."
The Confederate when he took his oath of allegiance to
the United States choked back many an emotion and took it
because there was nothing else for him to do. He could not
leave the country. He would have been prevented. If he
could have made his escape he had no place to which he
could go, and he had no money, for a basketful of Con
federate money would not have purchased a potato; it was
of course worthless, and had been virtually so for months
before. I think I have heard General Gordon, in illustrat
ing the worthlessness of our currency toward the close of
the war, tell the story of a fellow who was offered $5,000
for his mule in the winter of 1864-65, when he replied:
"Do you take me for a fool ? I just paid $1,000 to have this
mule curried." I paid to Mr. Spence, merchant tailor in
Richmond, in December, 1864, $1,800 for the last uniform
—coat, pants and vest — I purchased ; the coat I have now.
And in the last days of February, 1864, I paid $100 for
four Havana cigars in Mobile, Alabama, that had run the
blockade.
But when the Confederate soldier took his oath of alle
giance he did so in truth, "without mental reservation or
secret evasion of mind" ; and while, as I have said, he took
154 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
it with emotions, in fact with a heaving breast and deep
sigh and wry face, he kept it faithfully.
The Confederate would not have left the country if his
way had been clear and his pocket filled with greenbacks, for
he would not have deserted his land in her blight and deso
lation, nor his home where his loved ones were struggling
in poverty. He was too much of a man to turn his back on
his land, home and kindred. Vivid before his mind were
spots, and many of them, which had been "so devastated
that a crow flying over them would have to carry his own
rations," as General Sheridan declared in his message to
the Secretary of War after his famous raid of 1864 through
the Shenandoah Valley.
CHAPTER XVIII
A TRYING EPISODE AFTER THE WAR.
I am Indicted at my Old Home for Acts of War — Requisition made on
the Governor of Virginia for me — I Call on the Governor — His
Advice — My Petition to President Johnson and the Result — A
Change in Sentiment at My Old Home— A Tribute to Governor
Pierpont.
There was an occurrence in the fall of 1865, resulting
from the War, and so trying and important an episode in
my life that it should be related in these reminiscences.
As already stated, my home was at Berkeley Springs, Vir
ginia, now West Virginia, and I operated in that section to
a considerable extent during the days of the strife; and by
reason of my thorough knowledge of the country I was
always, with a few men, more or less successful on my ex
peditions, attacking small Federal forces, tearing up rail
road tracks, and in some instances destroying railroad prop
erty. Being in a hostile country I seized, under orders,
horses and cattle, and brought them out for the use of the
Confederate Army. Finally the Governor of West Vir
ginia offered a reward for my capture, but while the reward
was no doubt an incentive to many to make the effort, no
reward was ever paid, for I was never captured.
In the summer of 1865 indictments were found against
me. They gave me no concern, for I believed they had been
found under the stress of passion, and that reason would
soon resume its sway and the disposition to punish me for
fair and legitimate acts of warfare would subside; but I
was mistaken in my judgment. Passion did not cool. In
October I was informed that the Governor of West Vir
ginia had made a requisition upon the Governor of Virginia,
Honorable Francis H. Pierpont, for me, and that the sheriff
of Morgan County would leave in a day or two for Rich
mond with the requisition. This stirred me to the utmost.
I employed Messrs. Sheffey and Bumgardner, of Staunton,
1 56 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
as my attorneys ; they prepared a petition for a writ of ha
beas corpus, addressed to Judge Lucas P. Thompson, of the
Augusta Circuit, to be presented in the event Governor Pier-
pont honored the requisition. Acting under the advice of
my attorneys, I took the train the next morning for Rich
mond for the purpose of seeing Governor Pierpont. I ar
rived in the evening and stopped at the Exchange Hotel.
The next morning I walked up to the Executive Mansion,
and was shown into the Executive Office, where I found the
Governor at his table. I introduced myself to him, told him
of the requisition, and gave him an account of my opera
tions which had led to the indictments, and said in conclu
sion : "Governor, everything I did was legitimate and gen
erally under orders. I give you my word of honor I shall not
leave the country. I appeal to you as a citizen of a State
whose Executive you are to protect me from the wrong
that is being attempted." He replied : "I have neither
seen nor heard of any requisition. What relation are you
to John O'Ferrall?" I said, "I am a son of John O'Ferrall,
and I am a relative of the Zanes and Moores of Wheeling,
whom you no doubt know" ; he was from the Wheeling
section.
He said : "I served some years ago in the legislature
with your father and we were close personal and political
friends. I know your relatives, the Zanes and Moores;
they are excellent people. By the way, there was a young
O'Ferrall, a boy, elected clerk of Morgan County, a while
ago. What has become of him?" I replied, "Governor, it
was I who was elected clerk." "Is that possible," said he.
"Then you gave up your office to go into the Confederate
Army, and that has got you into this trouble." He
stopped talking, and for some seconds seemed to be in deep
study. Then he said: "This thing is all wrong. The
war is over. Both sides did wrong. You may have acted
improperly, and some of your acts may have been unjusti
fiable, but I see no reason why you should have been picked
out from the number who did as bad as you did or perhaps
worse. I advise you to employ counsel and bring the mat-
A TRYING EPISODE AFTER THE WAR 157
ter before President Johnson and secure protection ; I think
he will grant it; I will write him." I thanked him most
heartily for his advice, and said, "But, Governor, what
about the requisition ?" He said : "Leave that matter in
my hands? You say that you do not intend to leave the
country. Now go home and do as I tell you." I shook
hands with him, the pressure of his hand indicating where
his heart was ; he followed me to the door of the old man
sion, and his parting words were, "Do as I tell you."
The night of this day, about ten o'clock, in company with
two Confederate comrades, I walked into the office of the
Powhatan Hotel, now Ford's, and I found on the register
the names of the sheriff of Morgan County and his posse,
consisting of five men. Six men had come on to take me
back to my dear old home to be tried upon the charges con
tained in the indictments. I knew every man — the sheriff
had been my father's friend and mine; his posse consisted
of young men with whom I had been raised, had gone to
school, played ball and shot marbles, wrestled and tusseled
on the school-house campus with, and but for the assurances
I had from Governor Pierpont I am sure I would have added
trouble to trouble.
The next morning, which was Wednesday, I returned to
Staunton, and on my arrival I went immediately to the offi
ces of my attorneys and related to them the result of my
interview with Governor Pierpont. On Thursday I re
ceived the following telegram from the Governor: "The
requisition has reached me. Do as I told you."
The petition to President Johnson, reciting all the facts,
was promptly prepared. Judge Hugh W. Sheffey took the
first train to Richmond ; there he laid the petition before the
Governor, and he endorsed it as strongly as language could
do ; from Richmond Judge Sheffey proceeded to Washing
ton and presented the petition to the President, and after
some days — days of intense suspense and anxiety to me —
he wired me, "All is well," lifting from my spirits a weight
most mighty, and the next day he returned to Staunton and
delivered to me the paper, relieving me of all fear of trouble
158 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and bringing happiness into my home. With a heart full
of gratitude I wrote Governor Pierpont, and invited him
to be my guest at any time he might visit Staunton. The
following summer he spent a night with me on his way to
the springs.
At my old home there was much excitement. Sentiment
was divided. We had an old colored servant, "Uncle
Sam," who had remained loyal to my mother during the
entire war. On the evening the return of the sheriff was
expected there was quite a crowd in town, and "Uncle Sam"
was on the lookout, while my mother and sisters were gath
ered together, in tears.
Finally the sheriff and his posse were seen some distance
off, coming from the railway station. "Uncle Sam" dis
covered they were returning without me, and sobbing with
joy he rushed to where my mother and sisters were, ex
claiming, "Miss Jane, they are coming, and thank God they
haven't got him!" Many rejoiced that the sheriff had
failed in his mission, while some extreme and desperate men
were greatly angered and were violently demonstrative.
It was several years after this occurrence before I learned
what passed between the sheriff and Governor Pierpont.
The particulars were then given me by Hon. Charles H.
Lewis, who was Secretary of the Commonwealth under
Governor Pierpont, and Minister to Portugal during the
Administration of President Grant.
Colonel Lewis and my father had been warm friends.
When the Colonel heard of the requisition he went immedi
ately to see the Governor at the Executive Mansion, and
condemned in emphatic terms the act of the Governor of
West Virginia. He was present when the sheriff arrived
at the Executive Office. The Colonel told me the inter
view was very short; that the Governor simply looked at
the paper and said to the sheriff: "I have heard of this
requisition. I will take it and consider it when I have plenty
of leisure. You can return to your home. The war is
over and we want peace."
A TRYING EPISODE AFTER THE WAR 159
My visit to Governor Pierpont was the first time I had
ever entered the Gubernatorial Mansion. Little did I think
I would ever occupy it, and yet twenty-eight years after my
visit to him I was elected Governor, and in the same room,
with my table in the same place, I administered to the best
of my ability the affairs of the State. Many times during
my four years, in the stillness of night as I sat in the very
spot where Governor Pierpont sat as he listened to my state
ment of facts and gave ear to my appeal for protection from
a grievous wrong, has my mind run back to that ever-mem
orable October day.
It is with extreme pleasure that I here refer to the great
change that a few years wrought in the feeling and senti
ment of the little mountain county of Morgan. In 1879 I
visited Berkeley Springs, and the night after my arrival I
was serenaded by the town band. I stepped forward sim
ply to express my appreciation of the honor, but I was com
pelled to do more — a speech was demanded. Emotions filled
my breast.
I stood under the porch-roof of my boyhood home-
where grand-parents and father had died; where brothers
and sisters had been born and where some had died. In
sight of where I stood was the church-yard where my
kindred dust reposed, the playground of my school days
was near by ; memories fast and thick came trooping around
me. I was treated with the utmost respect, and in the band
were two of the sheriff's posse who with him made their
pilgrimage to Richmond in 1865. In 1880 I was invited to
deliver a Fourth of July speech at the old place. I accepted,
and spoke from a stand erected under the far-spreading
branches of a huge oak where I had on Independence Day
twenty years before made my first Fourth of July speech at
a Sunday-school picnic, and when the skies were clear of
war clouds. I received a most cordial welcome — all war
feeling was gone, all animosities had been buried, and the
Unionists and Federal soldiers of 1861-65 cheered the patri
otic sentiments of a Rebel Confederate soldier with warmth
and enthusiasm. This was my last visit to Old Berkeley,
l6o FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and if I were to return there now I have no doubt I would be
as lonely as was Rip Van Winkle when he returned to his
home town after his long sleep in the Catskill Mountains.
Recurring for a moment to Governor Pierpont, my re
gard for his memory prompts me to say that his heart was
as warm as ever beat in a human breast. He was opposed
to secession and was an ardent Unionist.
He had been elected Governor of what was termed the
"reorganized State of Virginia" on the 2Oth of June, 1861.
Subsequently the State of West Virginia was formed and
admitted to the Union and A. I. Boreman was inaugurated
as Governor. In May, 1865, President Johnson issued an
order for the enforcement of the Federal laws in Virginia,
and recognizing the administration of Governor Pierpont as
the loyal government of the State. The Governor at once
assumed his executive duties in Richmond, and continued
until April 4th, 1868, when he was succeeded by Henry H.
Wells by virtue of military appointment, Virginia being
shorn of her Statehood, and designated "Military District
Number One." Governor Pierpont's duties were difficult
and perplexing, but he was amiable and kind, and his ad
ministration was as conciliatory and conservative as the or
ders from Washington permitted. He was truly a good
man, and died at a ripe age at his home in Fairmont, West
Virginia, beloved by all his people.
CHAPTER XIX
THE HORRORS OF WAR.
Chickamauga— An Exhibition of Valor and Courage— The American
Soldier Unequaled in Fighting Qualities— His Ability to Stand
Privations— His Obedience to Orders— An End to His Powers—
The Only Solemn Hour — The Humors and Witticisms of Camp —
The Noble Marylanders.
The hideousness and horrors of war have never been fully
depicted.
Many times have I stood before battle-scenes as portrayed
on canvas by the brushes of masters, but not one of them
conveyed to my mind the true idea of a real field of carnage.
I believe the scene of a great battle is simply indescribable.
Wellington said : "Take my word for it, if you have seen
but one day of war, you would pray God that you might
never see such a thing again/'
Particularly do I speak of our fratricidal strife of the
nineteenth century, for it surpassed in its streams of blood
and crimsoned acres any war in the world's history.
Think of Chickamauga, where the losses on the two sides
reached 25,000 in killed and wounded, and where the per
centage of losses was three times as great as the seven
famous battles of Lodi, Zurich, Wagram, Waterloo, Ma
genta, Valmy, and Solferino. Think, too, of Antietam,
where more killed and wounded were scattered than on any
field of a single day's fighting recorded in the annals of time.
With what force do these facts attest the desperate fighting
qualities and heroism of the American soldier, without re
gard to sectional or geographical lines.
On the 1 5th of May, 1864, I witnessed an exhibition of
American valor and courage by about two hundred and
forty boys from fifteen to eighteen years of age, which has
never been surpassed, and will never be eclipsed through
the ages to come. These boys composed the corps of the
Virginia Military Institute, known as the West Point of the
TI
1 62 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Confederacy. They had come from every State in the
South to be educated at this splendid institution of learning
established at Lexington in 1839, and from whose class
rooms Stonewall Jackson, who was a professor, walked in
1 86 1 to the Pantheon of eternal fame in 1863.
At the Battle of New Market the Confederate authorities
were hard pressed to mobilize a sufficient force to meet
Sigel, who was moving up the Valley, so in their extremity
the Virginia Military Institute Corps was added to the small
force which had been hastily gathered together under Gen
eral John C. Breckenridge.
The battle was fought on an open field of rolling ground,
and the Confederates made the attack, and were exposed to
a terrible fire from many guns as they advanced for a long
distance without protection of any kind. With the step
and steadiness of "regulars" these boys, each company with
boy officers, marched across this open and exposed distance,
keeping up perfect alignment, losing some men, among them
Major Scott Shipp, commander, who was wounded, until
they \vere close enough for their fire to be effective, when
they let drive a volley or two, and then the command
"charge" was given by Captain Henry A. Wise, first cap
tain, now Superintendent of Public Schools of Baltimore
city, and away they went with bayonets fixed, and in a few
minutes they had routed the regiment of stalwart men in
their front, captured some artillery, and immediately turned
it upon their retreating foe with deadly effect, for they were
trained as artillerists as well as infantrymen at their Mili
tary School. Never for an instant, from the command "for
ward" until they had routed and driven the foe in their front
from the field, did they halt or falter. Whenever one of
them fell, killed or wounded, the gap closed up, and when
shell and leaden hail were tearing, raking, and piercing their
line they kept it in as perfect shape almost as if they had
been on dress parade.
I was with my cavalry regiment, occupying an elevated
position on the right of our forces, and saw the whole of our
infantry line, while the fight was going on, except a few
THE HORRORS OF WAR 163
hundred yards on the left, where the line dropped off down
the slope to a branch of the Shenandoah River.
The loss of the corps, in killed and wounded, was about
fifty, or one-fifth of their number. I repeat, that never in
the annals of time did a body of boys — all in their teens,
many low down, all beardless — achieve such renown and
glory.
Of course, I know there were innumerable instances of
boy heroism in the Northern Army, and it would give me
pleasure to record them if I had knowledge of such, but my
position excluded me from observing them. I should be
glad to read instances of the like from some writer who wore
the blue, but it would be impossible for him to relate an
instance of such an aggregation of boy heroes in a single
battle as that of the Virginia Military Institute Corps, on
the 1 5th day of May, 1864, in the classic Valley of the Shen
andoah in the Battle of New Market, where a monument
now stands bearing the inscription of the names of the 240
smooth-faced, beardless youths whose deeds have been im
mortalized in song and story.
Not only is the American soldier unequaled in his fighting
qualities, but his powers of enduring fatigue, hunger, and
suffering are unsurpassed. Stonewall Jackson's army
seemed to be able to march any distance and any length of
time that necessity or emergency might require, without
food, sleep or rest. For instance, on a Friday, at twelve
o'clock, Jackson's army was nearly sixty miles from Stras-
burg, while on Sunday evening, about three o'clock, the
whole army was at Strasburg, and all this after the army
had been marching almost continuously for nearly thirty
days, and fighting much of the time.
I have known a brigade to live for many days on green
corn and fruit, not a morsel of meat or bread crossing their
lips, and toward the close the Confederate was fortunate in
deed if he could keep his haversack fairly supplied with
parched corn.
The soldiers of Lee's army who during the last year were
shoeless, with lacerated feet bound in old rags as they made
164 1'ORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
their snail-like way, suffering constant pain, could have been
counted by the thousands. Still, however intense the fa
tigue, however severe the gnawing of hunger, or however
torturing the pain and suffering, there was not a murmur.
The endurance and heroism was simply sublime.
There is another characteristic of the American soldier
that is worthy of note. It is his obedience to orders and
submission to discipline. In the armies of the Confederacy,
and I have no doubt in the armies of the Union, there were
in many regiments, and even brigades and divisions, num
bers of private soldiers who in intelligence and judgment
were vastly superior to their commanding officers, yet they
obeyed promptly every order and conformed themselves,
without a word, to every rule of discipline.
No encomium too high could be bestowed upon the rep
resentative American private soldier. His deeds reared his
commanding officer to the realms of eternal fame, sent his
name upon the wings of the wind to the farthermost sec
tion of the inhabitable globe, engraved it upon imperishable
tablets, wrote it in never-fading letters in the skies of glory,
embalmed it in the affections of the people, and caused tow
ering monuments to be erected to his memory; while he,
the private soldier, fell at his post to fill perhaps an "un
known" grave, without even a drum beat to his memory as
the rude spade rounded up his mound. He had volunteered
to go "where bugles called and rifles gleamed," and with
steady pulse and unflinching mien he gave his life for what
he had been taught was right.
But while endurance and fortitude are striking character
istics of the American soldier, there is necessarily an end to
his powers. He is human flesh and blood.
So, in spite of all, the Confederate Army finally reached
a point when but a handful was left to sight the rifle, pull
the lanyard, and wield the sabre. Appomattox was the
fated spot, and the Qth day of April, 1865, the fated day.
There and then the Army of Northern Virginia, that had
dipped its conquering banners in the commingled blood of
the blue and gray upon so many fields, had been reduced to
THE HORRORS OF WAR 165
less than 8,000 organized infantrymen with arms, and its
whole number, including the sick and disabled, was only
25,000. Its idolized commander had been pitted against
five separate distinguished Federal commanders-in-chief—
McClellan, Pope, Burnside, Hooker, and Meade, and yet
the stars and bars had been kept proudly streaming in the
breezes. It was not until the intrepid and persistent Grant
was assigned to the command of the Army of the Potomac
that the Confederate banner was furled, and this was not
done until by constant blows and incessant hammering, and
the daily mustering of fresh troops, Lee's army, half fed,
feeble and weak, was reduced to a fragment, and its im
mortal commander, impelled by the instincts of humanity,
and feeling that further resistance could only result in the
shedding of more blood, the making of more widows and
orphans, in a cause that was lost. Then and not till then
came the surrender of the little jaded and worn army, the
furling of its bullet-riddled and tattered flags, and the stack
ing of its remnant of rifles. Then and not till then was the
cause of the South plunged into the abyss of eternal defeat.
While I have no right to speak for a Union soldier, I am
sure I voice his sentiments when I declare that he regarded
the Confederate soldier as worthy of his steel, on every field
where they met, on every plain where they fought, whether
the stars and stripes or the stars and bars floated in triumph.
They were both American soldiers, in their veins coursed
American blood, and in their bosoms throbbed American
hearts.
Nothing was more wonderful than the glee and cheerful
ness of the almost naked and half-fed men who followed
Lee with unfaltering devotion to the hills of Appomattox.
The sound of Dixie or the Bonny Blue Flag would bring
cheer after cheer, however red the battle glare, however
dense the sulphurous smoke, however thick the minies
crackled, however demonlike the shells shrieked, however
thick the dead were strewn, and however slippery was the
ground with blood.
1 66 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The only solemn hour in Southern or Northern
camp was the meditative hour after battle, when com
rades and messmates were missing, and then too
another hour when the bands at nightfall would strike
up "Home, Sweet Home." Every soul then melted,
every eye then kindled. I have heard both sides cheer until
they were almost hoarse, while the bands played Northern
and Southern National airs, and I have heard every cheer
hushed instantly, and the stillness of midnight sweep over
each camp, as the bugles and horns would break into "Home,
Sweet Home." It would have the most subduing and melt
ing effect, and there is no man that lives to-day who loves
near so well the strains of this immortalized song as the
soldier who passed through the battle of brothers, whether
he fought under the flag that glistened with its cross or
spangled with its stars.
The humors and witticisms of camp and field were as
variant as sea-shell forms on the beach. Many have already
appeared in these reminiscences, but more crowd so rapidly
on my memory that it seems that I must put some of them
in perpetual form.
There was an Irish mess in my regiment. One night I
heard Tim say to Mike : "Mike, I left some whiskey in me
haversack whin I went out this avening. Where is it,
Mike?" Mike replied : "Tim, why don't you ask me some
thing aisy? Ye might as well have asked me where the
dust of St. Patrick rests." It is well known that there has
been a dispute for generations among Irishmen, as to where
this patron Irish Saint was buried.
At the Second Battle of Bull Run, when Jackson had
by strategy and fast marching got into the rear of Pope's
army, and while waiting for Longstreet he was fighting with
great desperation, an old Texan said : "Well, boys, I have
all the faith in the world in Stonewall, and feel sure he's
going to bring us out all right, but it looks mighty much to
me like he has cut off a bigger piece this time than he can
chaw."
TH£ HORRORS OF WAR l6/
The old fellow was about right as things looked, but Jack
son knew what he was doing, and about six o'clock in the
evening, with the aid of Longstreet and Stuart, and the
whole army under the command of Lee, a mighty Federal
rout occurred and a glorious Confederate victory was
achieved.
The following story went the rounds of the camps. A
certain regiment had reached on its march a section where
there had never been a soldier. The farmers supplied them
with eatables of all kinds in profusion. One fellow loaded
himself up well and went off and took a seat on a log. He
had in his haversack a quantity of slapjacks, dough fried in
grease, and he commenced to eat his slapjacks instead of
the "pies and things" he had just drawn from the farmers'
wagons. A comrade asked him why he was eating his old,
tough and hard slapjacks when he had at his side such fresh
and good eating. He replied, "I can't afford to throw them
away ; I must eat them to save them, and to make room for
what these ladies have given me." "Well," said his com
rade, "you remind me of an old maid who lives near my
home. She was clearing out her bureau drawers and she
found two blister plasters in them ; she wanted to get them
out of her drawer, and yet didn't want to throw them away,
so she gently raised her skirts and slapped them on her
thigh as a good place to keep them. The result was they
gave her fits. So you didn't want to throw your slapjacks
away and you ate them to save them. Now watch out, you
will get fits too before long." Sure enough, during the
night two surgeons were working to save the fellow's life,
and they barely succeeded. Economy stood a Confederate
soldier well in hand, but this fellow carried his economy
too far.
I might continue to relate camp stories almost ad infin-
itum, heard during the four years of war and retained in
my memory, but I must refrain.
As a fitting finale of the narrative part of these reminis
cences, I come to notice a certain band of Confederate sol
diers who gained undying fame, glory and renown where-
1 68 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
ever the Confederate colors, riddled, tattered and torn by
bullet, shell and canister, floated. I refer to the sons of
Maryland who cast their fortunes with the South, and with
unfl inching fidelity followed her cause until the last shot
was fired and the last musket stacked.
On no pages where the deeds and achievements of the sol
diers of the Confederacy are painted should that band of
true, brave, and heroic men, who left their homes just across
the waters of the historic Potomac, humming the air of
"Maryland, my Maryland," or the "Bonnie Blue Flag," to
link their fortunes for weal or woe with the cause of the
South, ever be forgotten. At the sound of the war trumpet,
or rather when Virginia seceded, Maryland at heart wras as
loyal to the Confederacy, as any State in the Southern sister
hood. Her soul was filled with a determination to resist any
invasion or the crossing of her territory by armed bodies
bent on the subjugation of the seceded States. She ran up
the flag of secession and it floated proudly in the breezes.
She resisted the passage of the first Federal troops through
Baltimore, and the streets were made red with Maryland
blood. But her unorganized and unarmed citizens could not
cope with organized and equipped troops and her effort was
futile.
She strove with all her power to assert her will and be
come a State in the little Republic, but her waters were soon
under Federal control and her people were held in subjec
tion, and dominated by pointed guns from her bays and
rivers. She was rendered powerless as a State to take her
stand with the South in the coming conflict. But while she
was bound hand and foot, thousands of her sons made their
way to where the stars and bars were streaming. Safely in
"Dixie" they scattered all over the Southland, and joined
commands in every State, but a large proportion of them
attached themselves to the Army of Northern Virginia, and
now many, very many of them sleep the sleep that knows
no waking in Virginia's soil, and upon their mounds flowers
are strewn at each recurring Memorial Day.
THE HORRORS OF WAR 169
I knew numbers of these gallant men in the Army of
Northern Virginia, and served in the same command with
some of them, notably the intrepid Harry Gilmor, the author
of "Four Years in the Saddle/' who was a captain in the
Twelfth Virginia Cavalry at the same time I was a captain
in it. A more daring, dashing soldier never flashed a sabre.
I knew, of course, General Bradley T. Johnson, whose deeds
are worthy of the brightest pages of the war's history. I
knew intimately the whole-souled and chivalrous Captain
Frank Ward, who was seriously wounded in the passage of
the Federal troops through Baltimore in April, 1861. I
knew Maj.-Gen. Arnold Elzey, who lost a leg; Brig.-Gen.
George H. Steuart, and Brig.-Gen. Charles S. Winder, who
was killed at Cedar Mountain, August 9, 1862. I shall
leave these distinguished soldiers where other writers, in
glowing terms, have placed them. I knew Colonel Dorsey,
Major Goldsborough, Captain Myers, who was killed at
Gettysburg, and Captain Welsh; their records require no
word from my pen, they were unsurpassed.
But while Maryland was loyal, like Virginia her sons were
not all true to the cause of the South, and she furnished sol
diers to the Federal side.
I was in the fight at Front Royal, where the Confed
eracy's First Maryland met the Federal's First Maryland,
and in which the former defeated and captured the latter,
including its colonel. The fighting was furious, but out-
boys were in to win or die, and while their ranks were thin
ned, they won most gloriously.
In every Memorial Hall, on every monument or memorial
pile where the names of the States that formed the Confed
eracy may be inscribed, a place should be assigned for the
name of Maryland. Her heart was with the cause, thou
sands of her sons helped to fight its battles, myriads of them
died on fields of carnage, and she did not in fact secede
because restrained by a mighty hand.
CHAPTER XX
CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONFLICT.
The Question of which Side was Right Will Remain Unsettled to the
End of Time — A Reunited People — The Bitter Memories of the
South — The Spirit of the South not Crushed — Lincoln's Death a
Great Disaster to the South — His Death the Spring from which
Flowed the Countless Woes of Reconstruction — The Whole Struggle
Without a Parallel in the Annals of War — The Foremost Chieftains
of the South and North — All Loyal to the Flag that Floats over the
Country.
Nearly forty years have passed since the fall of the South
ern Confederacy. Nearly forty summers have shed the fra
grance of their flowers upon the mounds of the blue and
gray who yielded up their lives on fields of carnage or hos
pital cots. Nearly forty winters have spread their white
mantle over the graves of the sons of the North and South
who died for their convictions.
Whether the South was right and the North was wrong,
or the South was wrong and the North was right, will re
main an unsettled question to the end of time. Each section
will have its own tribunal, its own court of last resort, its
own people to pass upon the issue joined from 1861 to 1865.
In the homes and universities, and institutions of learning of
each, their respective creeds and doctrines will be taught,
and thus from generation to generation the youth of the
South will learn that she was right, and the youth of the
North will learn that she was right.
But we are a reunited people, with one flag, one Consti
tution and one destiny. Each State is an integral part of
this Union and stands the co-equal of her sisters under the
aegis of the Constitution of this land. Let the teachings of
the two sections continue, for they can do no harm. The
South, the loser and sufferer, has long since become recon
ciled to her defeat; and the North, the winner and con
queror, has long since recognized the sincerity of the South's
position and the honesty of her convictions.
CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE) GREAT CONDUCT 171
The South has far more bitter memories than the North.
Both lost heavily in blood and in brave men; both heard
the wails of widows, the moans of mothers, and the sighs
of sisters, but the North emerged with prosperity smiling
upon her and with scarcely a sign of the "battle's red blast"
or a trace of the hoof of war. Her people were thrifty;
her homes were untouched ; her farms unharmed ; her cities
and towns, villages and hamlets were buzzing with the
wheels of industry, and her harbors were crowded with the
crafts of every clime.
The South was left a land of desolation, wrecks, and
ruins. Lone chimneys filled the landscape, standing like sen
tinels over the ashes of happy homes ; her barns, mills, and
factories had been licked away by fiery tongues ; her indus
tries were all hushed; her fields were in weeds and her
ploughshares were rusty ; her cities and towns, villages and
hamlets were almost as waste places, and their people, all in
the depths of poverty, went about the streets like mourners.
But the fall of the Confederacy had not crushed the spirit
and manhood of the South, and her men, with the same
courage that they had fought her battles, began their fight
against adversity and poverty. Mighty indeed was the
struggle; great were the obstacles they had to encounter,
and stupendous were the difficulties they had to overcome.
I shall not run through the days of Militarism and Recon
struction. Passion, not reason, then sat upon the throne of
power. Carpet-baggers held high carnival, and serpents
reached pinnacles as high as eagles perch. Undismayed, the
people of the South continued their struggle, and finally
State after State rejoiced as the dawn of prosperity began
to break and carpet-bag rule began to wane. It took years
for the South to become regenerated and disenthralled, but
righteousness finally came, and each State found herself
basking in the sunlight of prosperity, home rule, and State
sovereignty.
It is the concensus of Southern opinion and has been for
many years, that the South would have fared far better but
for Booth's bullet and President Lincoln's death. It would
172 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
have been the policy of the illustrious President, in whom
the people of the North so confided as to make his will the
law, to restore the seceded States to their places in the Union
with as little friction as possible. His heart was kind, he
bore no malice, the rebellion had been suppressed, his earnest
purpose had been accomplished — the restoration of the Un
ion. In his first inaugural address he was most conciliatory,
and declared that "Though passion may have strained, it
must not break our affections." He spoke of "the mystic
cords of memory" stretching all over our land. He was
loath, even in 1863, to issue the Proclamation of Emancipa
tion, and did it, as he declared, "as a fit and necessary war
measure for suppressing the rebellion," and excepted from
the operation of his proclamation all loyal territory, includ
ing forty-eight counties in West Virginia and seven counties
and two cities in Virginia.
But his tragic death aroused the passions of the North,
and for some reason there was a disposition to visit ven
geance upon the Southern States for the diabolical deed,
when the South condemned and reprobated the horrible act
with all the feeling and sincerity of a brave and chivalrous
people.
No human being with certainty can tell ; God only knows,
what the policy of President Lincoln would have been to
ward the South, but unless the nature of the man had been
changed, if he had lived the South would have escaped the
oppression and tyranny she so long suffered.
When Carpenter's picture of the Signing of the Emanci
pation Proclamation was presented to the Government in
1878, he who had been the Vice-President of the Confeder
acy, the pure and gifted Alexander H. Stephens, put on
record his estimate of Lincoln.
After speaking of his long acquaintance and close intim
acy with him, Stephens said :
Of Mr. Lincoln's general character I need not speak. He was warm
hearted ; he was generous ; he was magnanimous ; he was most truly,
as he afterwards said on a memorable occasion, "with malice toward
none, with charity for all." He had a native genius far above his
CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONFLICT 1/3
fellows. Every fountain of his heart was overflowing with the milk
of human kindness. From my attachment to him, so much deeper was
the pang in my own breast, as well as of millions, at the horrible
manner of his taking off. This was the climax of our troubles, and
the spring from which came unnumbered woes.
Thus spoke this °Teat Southerner.
There is an abiding belief in the minds of the thoughtful
men of the South that if President Lincoln had lived Presi
dent Davis would never have been made a vicarious sufferer;
no dark and foul casemate would ever have confined him;
no clanking chains would ever have been riveted about his
limbs; no sentinel would ever have stood day by day and
through the silent hours of night with his eye fixed upon
him; no strong men would ever have seized the weak and
emaciated form in the filthy casemate and borne it to the
rocky floor, and there held it until the brawny arm of a
blacksmith shackled the ankles and fastened irons upon the
wrists.
No such cruel, brutal, and cowardly deed would ever
have been tolerated, much less ordered, by Abraham Lin
coln.
There is also a deeply-rooted belief in the minds of the
thinking men of the South that Mr. Stephens was right
when he declared that the assassin's deed was the spring
from which came our countless woes. There would have
been no military districts with Federal bayonets glistening
everywhere among an unarmed and helpless people; no ar
rests by the orders of provost marshals upon charges of irre
sponsible and debased renegades and negroes ; there would
have been no carpet-bag governments supported by Federal
soldiers, lording it over a people who were defenseless, im
posing taxes to enable them to enrich themselves, and levy
ing upon the substance of the land to sustain them in their
riotous living; the terms "carpetbagger" and "carpetbag-
ism" would be unknown words, and would have no places in
our vocabularies.
The Confederate States of America is now only a mem
ory ; for four years it lived ; it is now only enshrined in the
174 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
hearts and affections of its people ; it was founded upon the
eternal principles "of a government of the people, for the
people, and by the people" ; it had its President and his Cab
inet, its Vice-President and its retinue of officials, and a
Great Seal ; it had its Senate and House of Representatives.
It was a Republic, simple and pure, in form and principles,
and during its life its people sang:
"Our hearts, our hopes are all with thee;
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee, — are all with thee."
And then when defeat came, and all hopes were buried,
the poet laureate of the South tuned his lyre to touch South
ern souls, and immortalized in song the glories of "The
Conquered Banner." How pathetic are his words; how
thrilling his lines :
"Take that banner down ! 'tis tattered ;
Broken is its staff and shattered,
And the Valiant hosts are scattered,
Over whom it floated high.
Oh, 'tis hard for us to fold it,
Hard to think there's none to hold it,
Hard that those who once unrolled it
Must now furl it with a sigh.
"Furl that banner! True, 'tis gory,
Yet 'tis wreathed around with glory,
And 'twill live in song and story
Though its folds are in the dust !
For its fame on brightest pages,
Penned by poets and by sages,
Shall go sounding down the ages —
Furl its folds though now we must."
But as I have said, "The Conquering Banner" which was
not furled had its glories as well as "The Conquered Ban
ner," yes, many glories; and the glories of- both armies are
the common glories of America.
We were divided, as were our fathers divided, and we
had reached a point when the issues, as the South believed
and I think the North believed, should be settled. All ef-
CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONVICT 175
forts at friendly settlement had failed ; all attempts at com
promise had been futile. There were fundamental differ
ences between the sections; slavery was not the real cause,
it was used to stir the sections; but the causes lay deeper.
The North was commercial and the South was agricultural
—there was a clash of interests ; legislation beneficial to one
was likely to be injurious to the other. The North favored
a strong central government, the South believed in a govern
ment limited and confined to the distinctly delegated powers ;
the former was for a broad construction, and the latter a
strict construction of the Constitution. Harmony was im
possible; the issue had to be fought out, and it took four
years to do it.
That struggle has no parallel in the annals of war. It was
American blood against American blood; it was American
valor and endurance against American valor and endurance.
It was as all must admit, an unequal contest in numbers and
resources ; the North had a Navy, the South had none ; the
North had unlimited credit, the South had none ; the North
was able to put in the field 2,700,000 men, the South only
600,000 men; still the South had the advantage of acting
on the defensive, fighting in a friendly land and generally
choosing her own battle-grounds. This statement, I think,
is fair and impartial.
None but Americans could have conducted a defensive
warfare under such circumstances so long as did the South
erners, and none but Americans under the circumstances
could have ended the conflict so soon as did the Northerners.
Fredericksburg and Malvern Hill, Chickamauga and Gettys
burg will ever stand upon historic pages as evidences of su
preme American valor, while the stories of hundreds of
other fields will bear no less testimony to the fighting quali
ties, chivalry, and daring of the American soldier, whether
he fired and charged under the stars and bars or the stars and
stripes.
It seems to me that it would be a day most glorious if the
government of our forever-reunited land would erect side
by side, on the Capitol grounds at Washington, on pedestals
176 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
of equal height, statues of Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E.
Lee, and let them stand as the two greatest military chief
tains America has ever produced. The glory of each is the
common glory of the North and South and the glory of the
armies that carried these great commanders to pinnacles of
fame,
"Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.''
Whv should this not be done? Was not Grant the fore
most Chieftain of the North? Did he not bring victory to
the Union cause in less than twelve months after he assumed
the command of the Army of the Potomac? Many generals
had sought in vain for three years.
Was not Lee the foremost Chieftain of the South? Did
he not meet and defeat overwhelming numbers on field after
field, under selected generals, and keep the flag of the Con
federacy streaming in the breezes for four years?
Did not Grant display nobility of soul in his magnanimity
to his conquered foe at Appomattox ? Did he not add leaves
to his chaplet of fame after the surrender in demanding that
every paroled Confederate soldier should be protected, and
that the Government should carry out in good faith the
pledge he had given his brave but vanquished foe?
Did not Lee glorify still more his name when he cast
aside, after his untarnished sword was sheathed, all offers
of pecuniary aid and offers of lucrative position, and as
sumed the duties of educating the youth of the land and in
stilling into them fidelity and loyalty to their reconstructed
country ?
It is said that two Americans were making a tour of Eu
rope some years ago ; one had been a Union officer, the other
a Confederate officer. At some point a group of foreign
military officers were criticising Grant and Lee, when the
Americans most earnestly defended both — the Union officer
defending Lee and the Confederate officer Grant.
The Spanish-American War extinguished the last spark
of sectional feeling between the North and South. When
war was declared there was no Southerner or Northerner
CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONVICT 177
left within the expanse of this Union. All were Americans
and all rallied around their flag. The boy with the blood
of a rebel in his veins was as quick to respond to the call of
his country as the boy in whose veins coursed the blood of
a Union soldier, and they enlisted together, touched elbows
in the line, fought side by side, and slept under the same
blanket ; they stopped not to inquire, they cared not whether
they were to be led by a Young or a Wheeler. The sons of
living and departed Union and Confederate Veterans
quenched any remaining ember of sectional animosity,
whether in Maine or Texas, South Carolina or Massachu
setts, on the Atlantic Coast or Pacific Shore.
At peace then with each other, with fraternal love one for
the other in the breasts of the sections, and the Union ce
mented and more firmly united than ever in its history, with
the terms Northerners and Southerners no longer heard, but
only the broad and proud name of Americans sounding —
why, I ask again, should not statues of America's two great
est and most illustrious military chieftains stand under the
shadow of the dome of America's Capitol? They both be
long to America; their fame and glory are the common
heritage of her people, no State or section can claim them.
Looking back through the vista of the past ; recalling the
mighty events of the four years of carnage, the causes and
the results ; with years for reflection and for passion to cool,
I cannot say that I am glad the cause for which Lee fought
and Jackson died failed, but I do declare that I am as proud
to-day of my country as was ever any Roman in the height
of Rome's greatness, and when her eagles shadowed the
earth from Lusatania to the Caucasus.
While I cannot speak by authority, it is my honest con
viction that the surviving Confederate veterans are as loyal
to the flag that now floats over them as they were to it in
their maturing manhood, when on Independence Day the
martial strains of "The Star Spangled Banner" ringing out
from the drum and fife, or patriot voices, making the wood
lands echo with the anthem,
12
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"Columbia, Columbia to glory arise,
The queen of the world and the child of the skies!"
rtirred their blood and thrilled their souls.
They all recognize the grandeur and sublimity of this
American Republic, the cynosure of all nations' eyes,
respected by all principalities, cherished as a friend and
feared as a foe. They still have, as they will ever have,
their memories, just as the Federal veterans still have, and
will ever have, their memories — yet they remember that fra
tricidal strife came to them and their Northern brethren as
a heritage from the fathers, and that it was waged by both
without personal malice and for what each had been taught
was right.
They failed to achieve their independence, but out of their
failure has grown a Republic so mighty in resources and so
strong in her millions of robust, brave, chivalrous and
strong-hearted sons, that she ranks among the nations of the
earth, almost like Saul among the men of Israel.
It is said, "All is well that ends well," and it may be that
the failure of the Confederacy was a blessing in disguise to
the South, and a benediction to the Republic established by
the fathers in spite of the giant power of a haughty king.
It may be that in God's Providence the blood that crimsoned
so many fields and the drapery of mourning that hung- in so
many homes were the means of building up and cementing
in concrete mass an American Republic, with a star for
every State and a State for every star, that will weather all
storms, and grow in strength and power, and we trust in
virtues, until the Mighty Angel with his right foot upon the
sea and his left foot on the land shall swear by Him Who
liveth forever and ever, "that there shall be time no longer."
PART II
THE AUTHOR'S OFFICIAL LIFE
CHAPTER I
WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL
My First Official Position — I Run for Office at the Age of Seventeen —
Graduated from Washington College — General Lee as a College
President — His Influence Over the Students — Incidents of his
Administration — The Graduates of My Law Class.
At the age of fifteen years I was appointed to an impor
tant position and entered official life. This sounds strange,
but it is a fact easily verified by many living witnesses, as
well as court records. It came about in this way. My
father was the clerk of the Circuit and County Courts of
Morgan County, Virginia, now West Virginia, elected at the
first election after freehold suffrage was abolished and man
hood suffrage adopted.
I was then a lad of eleven years of age, and my father re
quired me to spend my school vacations in his office and to
render such clerical service as he prescribed. Directly after
I had attained the age of fifteen years my father died, leav
ing my mother with five children — three daughters and two
sons, of whom I was the eldest. His means were quite lim
ited and my mother was thrown in a large measure upon her
own resources. The lawyers of the county, thinking I was
competent under the training I had had to discharge the du
ties of clerk, and with a view of assisting my mother in her
struggle, petitioned Hon. Richard Parker, Judge of the Cir
cuit Court of Morgan County, to appoint me clerk pro tern-
pore of his court.
The Judge, who resided at Winchester, thirty-six miles
distant by country road, wrote to me to come to see him, and
I rode to Winchester at once. The morning after my arrival
I wended my way to his residence, a stately old mansion on
an eminence in the suburbs of the town, with extensive
grounds and original oaks rearing their heads far toward
the clouds, and a broad walk leading from the front gate to
wide steps. It was the month of March ; the day was sting-
1 82 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
ing cold, the wind was blowing fiercely, and the great oaks
were swaying their huge bodies to and fro and their strong
limbs were lashing each other with the fury of a hurricane.
My heart was sad over the death of my father. I was ex
cited at the idea of appearing before the judge for examina
tion as to the duties of a court clerk, but I summoned all my
courage, and with a firm step approached the door and took
hold of the old time "knocker" and rapped. A servant ap
peared and directed me to the Judge's office. He was a
quiet, sedate man, but he greeted me cordially, put me at ease
quickly, and in the most informal manner conducted the ex
amination, and in a short time, much shorter than I had ex
pected, it was over, and turning to his table he wrote my
appointment as clerk pro tcmporc of the Circuit Court of
Morgan County, and handed it to me. Solomon in all his
glory was not prouder than I was on that cold and cheerless
March day. Other honors high came to me in after years,
but none which I appreciated more than my appointment by
the lofty and pure judge, whose heart I could feel was beat
ing in sympathy with mine, bruised as it was.
Thanking my benefactor for what he had done for me, I
bade him good-by and left the old mansion. County Court
was in session in Winchester, and being almost a total
stranger I gravitated to the court hall. Soon some of the
lawyers heard that Judge Parker had appointed a fifteen-
year old boy clerk of the Circuit Court of the County of
Morgan, and seeing me, a strange boy, sitting back in the
hall, they jumped to the conclusion that I was the boy who
had been so highly favored; so one of them, Major L. T.
Moore, came to me, introduced himself, and asked me if I
was not "young O'Ferrall?" I replied, "Yes, sir." He
then invited me to take a seat within the bar. I went for
ward with him and he introduced me to the lawyers present,
all of whom received me pleasantly and congratulated me.
In a few minutes a gentleman entered the bar whom I had
not seen. I observed at once that he was no average man,
and that the entire bar showed him marked consideration.
He was graceful in every movement; his face was hand-
WASHINGTON COI^EGE) — GENERAL I^E) 183
some; his manner was genial and most pleasant. Very
soon I was introduced to him, and he was told of my good
fortune. Without a single word he put his arm in mine,
led me to where there were two chairs close together, and
seating me in one he took the other. Then he spoke to me
for the first time. He said : "My boy, I knew your father
and loved him. I am so glad Judge Parker has given you
this appointment." He then poured into my ear praises of
my dead father and words of encouragement to me, his eyes
melting and mine filling with tears as he continued to speak.
Never did words fall in more mellow ground; never did
words sound sweeter to me. Never did my soul swell more
with courage and determination. His beautiful language,
flowing in a constant stream, charmed me, and I felt like
asking him to stay when he told me he had to leave me to
fill some engagement.
This man was J. Randolph Tucker, whose name after
wards rang from ocean to ocean, and from Maine to Califor
nia, and of whom I shall have more to say before I finish.
I served as Circuit Court Clerk for several months, when
the vacancy occasioned by the death of my father was filled
by an election for his unexpired term. The new clerk re
tained me as his deputy.
When I was seventeen years old an election was held for
clerk for a full term of six years. The incumbent declined
to run, and the leading member of the local bar, Joseph S.
Duckwall, suggested to me my candidacy for the position of
County Court Clerk. Thinking he was not in earnest, I did
not treat the suggestion seriously ; but he assured me he was
in earnest, thought I could be elected, and that I owed it to
my mother to make an effort to secure it. I said: "You
lose sight of the fact that I am only seventeen years of age.
I am not old enough to be elected." He replied, "The Con
stitution fixes no age for county officers. The only question
would be the validity of your bond, but that would be void
able, not void, and in my opinion you are eligible." I re
plied, "I will run"; and he wrote my card announcing my
candidacy.
184 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
I bought a horse and started out to make a house to house
canvass. My father's old friends received me warmly and
pledged their support pretty generally. For a little while it
looked as though I would have no opposition, but then a
gentleman far advanced in life — easily old enough to have
been my grandfather, and who had been defeated by my
father six years before, took the field against me. The con
test became spirited. It was youth against old age, a boy
of seventeen against a man of sixty-five. I enjoyed the race
with all my soul. The day of the election came and I re
joiced with joy unspeakable when the setting sun brought
me a handsome victory. The voting then was viva voce,
every voter proclaiming his vote, and having it entered on
the poll-book for the candidate of his choice. The state of
the polls at each precinct was known all through the day,
and at sundown I had sufficient information from the vari
ous polling places to warrant the conclusion that I had
beaten my venerable and respected competitor by a decided
majority.
People are fond of novelties, and the novel idea of electing
a boy had taken hold of the voters like fire in dry stubble,
and they flocked to the polls to vote for me; besides, the
fact that "I was the son of my father" stirred his friends,
who loved his memory, and they worked like beavers to se
cure my election and thereby aid his dependent family.
The returns were most gratifying to my friends, and they
showered their congratulations upon me. On the day after
the election a countryman who had supported me heartily
rode into the town, and hailing me on the street, with a jolly
laugh exclaimed, "By golly, my boy, you ran faster than
a scared rabbit!"
In a few weeks I qualified and entered upon the discharge
of my official duties for a term of six years. Things went
smoothly with me for two and a half years, then war clouds
began to gather. The people of my county were divided
into Unionists and Conditional Unionists, with only here
and there a secessionist.
WASHINGTON GOINGS — GENERAL ^$$ 185
As soon as Virginia seceded, feeling that my allegiance
to her was paramount to my allegiance to the Union, I en
tered the Confederate cavalry and served, as I have stated,
to the end of the struggle. When all was over I went to
work immediately and engaged in business pursuits until I
entered the law class of Washington College, at Lexington,
Virginia, in the fall of 1868. In June, 1869,! graduated and
received my B. L. diploma, signed by the president, the im
mortal Robert E. Lee — one of the few diplomas, compara
tively, he ever signed, for his career as president was cut
short by his death on October 10, 1870, after an incumbency
of only five years, but an incumbency in which the nobility
of the man and the sublimity of his character stood out be
fore the world in bolder relief, if possible, than when he was
defending a cause around which clustered the affections of
the Southern people, and commanding the Army of North
ern Virginia, the grandest army that has ever been, or will
ever be martialed until the Archangel of God with trumpet
strong shall proclaim the end of time.
Washington College was a venerable institution. It was
established in 1776 and its original name was Liberty Hall.
In 1796 George Washington made a donation to it of one
hundred shares of stock in the James River Canal Company,
which had been granted to him by the legislature, and its
name was changed to Washington College. The Cincin
nati Society gave nearly $25,000 to it in 1803, and in ap
preciation of this endowment the "Cincinnati professor
ship" was founded. Afterwards it was favored by other
endowments.
It had an able faculty, and many distinguished men had
pointed to it with pride as their "Alma Mater," still its an
nual matriculations had never been large prior to the time of
which I shall now speak. In 1865 the presidency of the in
stitution was tendered to General Lee. He hesitated about
accepting the trust, assigning as his reason, in a letter writ
ten to the College Committee, that he feared he would be
unable to discharge the duties of the position "to the satis
faction of the trustees or to the benefit of the country";
1 86 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
that the education of youth required not only great ability,
but he feared more strength than he possessed, as he did not
feel able to undergo the labor of conducting classes in regu
lar courses of instruction.
Continuing this letter, he said:
There is another subject which has caused me serious reflection, and
is, I think, worthy of the consideration of the Board. Being excluded
from the terms of amnesty in the proclamation of the President of
the United States of the 29th of May last, and an object of censure
to a portion of the country, I have thought it probable that my occu
pation of the position of president might draw upon the College a
feeling of hostility, and I should therefore cause trouble to the insti
tution which it would be my highest desire to advance.
I think it the duty of every citizen, in the present condition of the
country, to do all in his power to aid in the restoration of peace and
harmony, and in no way to oppose the policy of the State or General
Government directed to that object. It is particularly incumbent on
those charged with the instruction of the young to set them an example
of submission to authority, and I could not consent to be the cause
of animadversion upon the College.
Should you, however, take a different view, and think that my ser
vices in the position tendered to me by the Board will be advantageous
to the College and country, I will yield to your judgment and accept
it, otherwise I must most respectfully decline the office.
The Board instantly assured General Lee that no damage
to the College would result from his installation as president,
and urged his acceptance of the place. He then accepted,
and was installed October 2, 1865, and the old College took
on, as if by magic, new life and vigor, and boys and young
men, and soldiers whose education had been interrupted by
the War, flocked to its class-rooms from every State and
section of the South, and many came from Northern and
Western States, until the numbers ran up to six or seven
hundred.
General Lee's influence over the students was marvelous ;
they all adored him ; each of them would almost rather have
lost his right arm than to have done an act that would have
lost him General Lee's confidence and respect. They all
knew him personally, and he knew them and could call each
by name whenever they met. His memory of names and
faces was remarkable; it is related that on one occasion a
WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL LEE 187
certain name was read from the rolls and he insisted that
there was no student by that name; at least he said, "I can
not recall him, and I thought I knew every student in the
College. When did he come?" An investigation showed
that the student had entered very recently and while he was
absent, so that he had never met him.
He changed the mode of discipline which had been in
vogue from the date of the College charter. It was
the mode that the schools generally had adopted from
time perhaps immemorial. It was the system of espionage — •
of watching and reporting the movements and conduct of
the students — a system which tended to lessen self-respect,
and to lead to evasion and concealment rather than frank-
ness and ingenuousness. He put every student upon his
honor and broke down the barrier that had so long stood be
tween him and the faculty. There was nothing like military
discipline, no red-tape rules, and any student could see him
and converse with him at any time during office hours, and
even in the privacy of his home, with as much freedom as
if the relation of father and son existed between them.
The change was most salutary. Every student's sense of
honor was acute; his self-respect was retained; his pride
in the College was fostered, and rare indeed was there an
infraction of the rules or departure from the line of decorous
conduct. He was considerate of the waywardness of youth,
and was careful never to act hastily, and when compelled to
act he did so generally by quietly and gently informing the
parent of the course of the son, and when neither warnings
nor parental influence could do any good, he would request
the withdrawal of the obdurate boy, rather than cast a stig
ma of expulsion upon him.
He kept himself well informed as to the progress of every
student, and examined the w:eekly reports with care, and re
tained to a most remarkable degree in his memory the marks
and standing of each student.
It is related that a visitor inquired of him on one occasion
how a certain student was succeeding in his studies. Gen
eral Lee replied, "Well, he is an orderly and well-behaved
1 88 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
young man, but there seems to be no danger that he will in
jure the health of his father's son." He then proceeded
from memory to give the marks the young fellow had re
ceived the previous month, all very low, and then added,
"I do not desire our young men to really injure their health
by hard study, but I want them to come mighty near to it.''
For several years after peace the young men of the South
could not look upon the negroes as their equals under the
law, or as possessing the same legal rights as themselves.
Many of the negroes about Lexington, as well as everywhere
else, were greatly puffed up with the idea of freemanship,
and were self-assertive, presuming, and irritating. The stu
dents of Washington College could not tolerate the disre
spect and impudence which was frequently shown them by
these people, and they resented it, and in some instances
carried their resentment too far. At one time it was ru
mored that a body of them were preparing to break up a
public, I think a political, meeting of the colored people near
Lexington. It was the year I was attending the College.
The intention of the students reached General Lee's ears.
Immediately he had posted in the most conspicuous place an
order stating that the faculty of the College had learned that
some of the students intended or had threatened to disturb
a meeting of colored people to be held near Lexington. He
proceeded to express the disbelief of the faculty in the ru
mor. He then said : "The President requests all students
to abstain from attending this or any other similar meeting,
and thinks it only necessary to call their attention to the ad
vantage of attending strictly, as heretofore, to their impor
tant duties at the College, and in no way interfering with the
business of others."
It is needless to say that there was no disturbance of the
meeting. I was told that not a single student was seen at or
near it. General Lee's order was enough; instead of dis
turbing the meeting, I believe the students would have pre
vented, if necessary, any interference with it.
During General Lee's presidency a religious spirit per
meated the institution. A chapel was built under his direc-
WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL, L££ 189
tion, as planned by him, and although he was a strict Epis
copalian, the pastors of every religious denomination in the
town, by his invitation, filled the pulpit — each having a par
ticular Sabbath assigned him. At all of these devotional
exercises General Lee was present, and' his fervor, daily
walk, and never-failing attendance upon the preaching of
The Word produced such effect upon the students that many
of them embraced "the principles of the Christian faith and
the sanctions of the Christian religion."
Never did an institution of learning grow and prosper in
five years as did Washington College under the presidency
of Robert E. Lee. He was an ideal president, his whole
soul was in his work. His executive ability has never been
excelled; his influence never equaled; his zeal never sur
passed.
With positions high and lucrative open to him all over
the Southern land ; with offers of pecuniary aid coming to
him, in his poverty, from every direction; with all lands
proclaiming his greatness, sounding his praises, and exalting
his virtues; with his image on the walls of every home,
humble or stately, from Virginia to Texas ; adored by all his
people and admired and respected by his and their foes, he
accepted the presidency of a Virginia College, able to pay
him but a meagre salary, and assumed the task of directing
the education of the Southern youth, and instilling into their
minds, not only the elements of learning, but the spirit of
loyalty to their reunited land and faithful obedience to all
its laws, and the spirit too of that religion without which no
government can stand safely upon its foundation.
Thus he spent the last five years of his eventful and glori
ous life.
"The Father of his Country
Stands above that shut-in sea,
A glorious symbol to the world
Of all that's great and free;
And to-day Virginia matches him —
And matches him with Lee."
190 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
There were thirteen graduates in my law class ; of them,
J. Harvey McCleary, of Texas, has been Attorney-General
of his State, and a judge of one of the territorial courts, by
appointment of President Cleveland; he is a brilliant man.
D. Gardner Tyler, of Virginia, a son of the late President
Tyler, has been a member of Congress and State Senator,
and is now a Circuit Court Judge in Virginia ; a strong and
popular man. Hill Carter, of Virginia, is and has been for
years a practising attorney in Richmond, and stands among
the leaders of the bar of the State. Henry C. Lowery, of
Bedford, has been a member of the State Senate several
terms and is a successful lawyer; he has, as he merits, the
esteem and confidence of his people. John S. Pendleton, of
Kentucky, has been a judge of a court in Atlanta, Georgia,
and is now a railroad attorney; he is a man of fine ability.
Several of the graduates died not long after their gradu
ation, among them Dunlop, of West Virginia, who located
in Kansas City, Missouri, where he was fast forging his
way to the front, when by the accidental discharge of a pis
tol he met his death.
CHAPTER II
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH.
Beginning the Practise of Law — Rockingham County, Virginia — In the
Legislature — Virginia's Debt — The Make-up of the Legislature —
Raleigh T. Daniel — I go Upon the Bench — Judicial Duties — A
Notable Case— The Effort to Save a Woman From the Gallows— A
Brave Wife's Loyalty and Devotion.
In August, 1869, after graduating at law, I located in
Harrisonburg, Rockingham County, Virginia, for the prac
tise of my profession, and lived there continuously until
December, 1893, when I moved to Richmond.
Rockingham County is perhaps the finest county in the
Valley of the Shenandoah. Its people are generally of Ger
man descent, and are sturdy, industrious, frugal, and pros
perous.
The soil is limestone and the cereals and grasses grow
luxuriantly. Superb horses — draught, saddle, and light har
ness, and magnificent cattle — principally short-horn Dur-
hams — are raised in immense numbers and constitute an im
portant source of revenue to their breeders. The farms are
usually large, with fine buildings of every description re
quired for the purposes of agriculture and stock raising.
The religious sect known as German Baptists, or Tunkers,
is very strong in the country, and composes a considerable
part of the population ; its members, nearly all farmers, are
most excellent citizens and teach and practice in an eminent
degree the precept, "Do unto others as you would have
others do unto you." They are non-combatants in their
principles, yet it can hardly be said that they always, by any
means, practise what they preach in this respect. During
the War between the States the Confederate Congress passed
an act exempting them from military service upon the pay
ment of five hundred dollars, and almost all under fifty years
of age availed themselves of the provisions of the act, yet
some of the young Tunkers were in the Confederate Army,
192 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and without an exception, so far as I have ever heard, they
were brave and faithful soldiers. The color-bearer of the
Tenth Regiment of Virginia Infantry at the desperate and
signal battle of Gettysburg was a young man by the name
of Shank, a Tunker, and he fell dead with his colors in the
van in the thickest of the fray. There are many things com
mendatory of these staid, orderly, and law-abiding people I
might write, but I must desist.
In November, 1871, I was elected by the voters of this
splendid county a member of the legislature of Virginia, and
served through the sessions of 1871-2 and 1872-3, and the
Tunkers were among my most earnest supporters.
This legislature had before it the important question of
adjusting and settling Virginia's State debt.
About the year 1838 the State had determined to encour
age and foster works of internal improvement, and charters
were granted to construct canals, turnpikes, plank roads, and
railroads in different sections, and the State was authorized
to subscribe for two-fifths of their capital stock. Corpora
tions were organized under the various charters and Virginia
became a subscriber to the capital stock to the extent author
ized. She was also empowered to borrow money for the
purpose of paying for the stock, and to issue her bonds for
the borrowed money, both of which she did. She had also
been authorized to borrow money and issue her bonds there
for for the erection of eleemosynary institutions and public
buildings, and this she had done. In this way she had cre
ated quite a large debt, amounting in 1861 to about $32,-
000,000. During the war and up to 1870 she had been un
able to pay interest upon her bonds, so that the legislature of
1869-70 found the total debt, principal and interest, to
amount to about $46,000,000. In the meantime she had
been despoiled of much of her territory by the formation of
the State of West Virginia, all against her will and with her
voice stifled, by an Act of Congress, sanctioned by a "rump
legislature," in which twenty-nine counties only, all western,
were represented. The territory which was thus ruthlessly
torn from her was prospectively her richest portion, abound-
IN THE: LEGISLATURE; AND ON THE: BENCH 193
ing in coal and iron and other minerals and every species of
timber. She was terribly weakened in her resources, and
yet the bonds were against her, and West Virginia had
shown an indisposition to assume any part of the burden of
the old mother. Virginia, though poor and her wounds, in
flicted by war, still bleeding, determined to keep clean her
spotless escutcheon, and to do what was just and equitable
between her bondholders and herself. So, animated by this
spirit and prompted by the highest motive, her legislature of
1869-70 passed what was known as the "Funding Bill."
Under the provisions of this bill the principal of her debt
and accumulated interest thereon were thrown together, and
Virginia agreed and assumed to pay two-thirds of the ag
gregate amount of indebtedness, and for this sum she was
authorized to issue bonds, in exchange for her old bonds,
leaving the other third to be assumed or not by West Vir
ginia, as her sense of right might dictate; Virginia, how
ever, obligating herself to use her best offices in effecting a
settlement for the bondholders with the new State. But
though honest in their views, and earnestly desiring to pro
mote the State's welfare, the action of the Virginia legisla
ture in passing the "Funding Bill" did not meet with the
approval of some of its members, and a decided majority of
the people of the State condemned it.
It was contended by the opponents of the bill that the leg
islature had gone too far and acted too generously when it
converted accrued interest into principal ; that Virginia had
been in the fiery furnace of war and had lost as no tongue
could tell or pen describe; that she had lost millions in
slave property; her fields had been laid waste; her homes,
barns, mills, and factories had been reduced to ashes; her
implements of husbandry broken up or destroyed ; her bank
ing institutions had been wrecked ; that she had been stripped
of a vast part of her territory, to whose future development
she had looked to immensely increase her taxable values and
which had been in a large measure the inducement to con
tract the debt ; that the only money she had with which she
could have paid interest for four years was Confederate
13
194 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
currency, and this her creditors would not have received if
it could have been tendered to them ; that it was not equit
able, under all these circumstances, to require the people of
the State to pay interest upon interest.
In the legislative election of 1871 the voters were divided
upon the line of "Funders" and "Anti-Funders" — support
ers and opponents of the "Funding Bill." I was elected to
the legislature as an "Anti-Funder" and stood with a large
majority of the body upon that issue, which dominated all
other issues. There were many strong men in this legisla
ture, some of them intellectual giants, and the body was un
usually strong in solid, substantial, thoughtful men.
Richmond has as three of her representatives or delegates
the brilliant and mature lawyer and scholar Raleigh T. Dan
iel, afterwards Attorney-General of the State; the astute
and close reasoner James H. Dooley, also a lawyer and now
a prominent financier, and J. Thompson Brown, a cool,
level-headed business man, and now a most promient real es
tate dealer in Richmond.
Manchester sent the direct and incisive William I. Clop-
ton, a lawyer of ability by inheritance as well as study, and
now the honored Judge of the Corporation Court of his city.
Fauquier County did honor to herself by accrediting James
V. Brooke as one of her delegates ; a man of great intellect
and legal learning. Washington County was ably repre
sented by the conservative and judicious, yet courageous,
Arthur C. Cumming. Pittsylvania and the City of Danville
sent her brainy man of affairs, William T. Sutherlin. Pu-
laski County commissioned James A. Walker, the famous
commander of the Stonewall Brigade, a lawyer of rugged
power. Montgomery sent Gabriel T. Wharton, a distin
guished soldier and man of superior judgment. Albemarle
had as her delegates James C. Hill, an experienced, sound,
and safe legislator, and Jeremiah A. Early, whose head was
full of sound sense. Loudoun furnished William Matthews,
always alert and constant in the discharge of his duties.
Orange was represented by W. R. Taliaferro, young, but
wise above his years: and Culpeper by John R. Strother,
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 195
whose judgment was sought on all important matters ; and
Shenandoah by the erratic but bold and aggressive fighter,
H. H. Riddleberger, who in after years, during the political
upheaval of Mahoneism, became a United States Senator.
Accomac honored Edmund R. Bagwell, and he wore his
honors with dignity and discharged his trust with signal
ability. Nelson's delegate was C. T. Smith, who kept up
with matters of legislation, was always ready to "shy his
castor into the ring," and was never caught napping. Hen
ry's delegate was George W. Booker, a former congressman
and a vigilant and esteemed member. Rockbridge had the
chivalrous William T. Poague — as a soldier the peer of any,
a gentleman of the first water, and a valuable man on the
floor, and, also, S. M. Donald, whose Scotch-Irish antece
dents made him ever-watchful of the interests of his con
stituents and of the people at large. Bedford had in Major
William F. Graves a representative who filled his position
with the same supreme fidelity he had displayed on the field
of battle. Greene was represented by Frank M. McMullan
— an educated gentleman, a ready speaker, an excellent com-
mitteeman, and one of the truest of the true in everything
that pertained to the trust reposed in him. Portsmouth City,
as with one voice, sent her venerable son, John B. Watts,
whose lofty character, superb bearing, discriminating mind,
and eloquent tongue drew to him the confidence and admir
ation of the entire body, and Norfolk sent Marshall Parkes,
an unexcelled business man, with an abundance of common
sense and practical ideas, and Thomas R. Borland, a young
lawyer who gave promise then of the successful career
which afterwards attended him. Spottsylvania showed her
wisdom in selecting as her delegate the veteran editor and
legislator, John H. Kelley.
Amherst County sent her favorite son, Robert A. Coghill
— ranking among the most astute and learned lawyers of
the State. He was the peer of any member of the House,
and when aroused his rapid sledge-hammer blows always
made a deep impression.
196 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Augusta County had in Marshall Hanger, not only a rep
resentative who had seen long service in the law-making de
partment of the State government, but who was as fine a
parliamentarian as I have ever seen. He was elected Speaker
of the House, and no better presiding officer could have been
selected.
My colleague from Rockingham County was George E.
Deneale — "the old man eloquent," as he was called. He wras
trained in the art of legislation, and thirty years before had
served with my father in the House of Delegates.
These were all members of the House of Delegates.
There were others, more or less conspicuous, whom I might
mention, but I have named enough to show that the Vir
ginia House of Delegates of 1871-2 and 1872-3 was a body
wrorthy of the State.
In the Senate were John E. Roller, from the Rockingham
district, a young lawyer of promise, a constant attendant
upon the sessions, a strong debater, a faithful guardian of
the State's welfare, and who is to-day a leader in his pro
fession and a successful man in the affairs of life; Alexander
B. Cochran, from the Augusta district, who was one of the
brainiest men in the Commonwealth and a speaker of great
power, but his usefulness to his State was cut off at an early
age by his death; Abner Anderson, from the Danville dis
trict, a safe and sound man, whose influence was felt in all
matters of important legislation ; A. L. Pridemore, from the
Lee district, a man of splendid natural ability, a great rough-
and-tumble fighter, and a most valuable member of the body ;
A. Q. Holliday and John K. Connolly, from the Richmond
district; the former quiet in manner, a cogent reasoner, al
ways alert and at his post; the latter, eloquent of tongue,
impulsive and warm-hearted, sometimes in the heat of de
bate allowing his enthusiasm to carry him to the point of
using language that would sting an opponent, but instantly
in the most delightful manner withdrawing the word or
words that had caused the smart.
At this time Gilbert C. Walker, a New Yorker, who had
settled at Norfolk after the war, was Governor. In 1869
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 197
he had been named by the Democrats, who called themselves
conservatives, as an expediency candidate against Henry H.
Wells, who was termed " the carpetbag governor," and was
elected by a vote of 119,535 to 101,204, and inaugurated
September 21.
He was an exceedingly handsome man and a Chesterfield-
ian in his manners. He was true to the people who had
elected him and was loyal to what he believed to be the best
interests of the State. He had favored the passage of the
"Funding Bill" when it was pending in the preceding legis
lature, and he adhered to his position, and opposed its re
peal, and the "Anti-Funders" found him arrayed against
them.
In a very short time after the organization of the legisla
ture the battle over the debt settlement opened, and it was
warm and animated from start to finish.
Raleigh T. Daniel, "walking around and about the ram
parts of the Constitution," as he expressed it, was vigorous
in the support of the sacredness of contract obligations and
in the maintenance of the "Funding Bill" as a settlement
just to the State and equitable to her creditors. He was
among the most ornate and accomplished speakers Virginia
has ever produced.
His clean-cut English and well-rounded sentences flowed
from his lips in a constant stream, ready for the printer
without a change or alteration. There was no sacrifice of
strength to beauty of expression, as might be imagined;
there was "no covering up of the fruit with the foliage."
His arguments were powerful, couched in the choicest and
most chaste language; no word was ever uttered that was
not fit for a drawing-room, much less the halls of legisla
tion. But as able, brilliant, and cultured as he was, his in
fluence was weakened by his intolerance, in fact contempt,
for the opinions of his colleagues who differed from him.
He was disposed to regard himself as infallible in his views,
and his efforts had the effect of intensifying rather than
mollifying his opponents. When the fight in the House was
at its height, Mr. Daniel, Mr. Brooke, and three other gen-
198 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
tlemen, I think, organized themselves into a committee to
draft a bill which they hoped would present a middle ground
upon which the members could stand. Mr. Brooke was se
lected to draw a bill and submit it to the full committee ; he
went to work at once and labored earnestly for several days ;
then he notified the other members that he was ready to
submit his bill ; they all gathered in a room of the Exchange
Hotel, and Mr. Brooke commenced to read his bill. There
was a very long preamble and many whereases, asserting,
as its author thought, fundamental principles and self-evi
dent propositions of Constitutional law.
Before he had read many sentences Mr. Daniel became
restive, and it was apparent that he was taking issue with
Mr. Brooke in his mind. When about half of the preamble
had been read he sprang from his seat and exclaimed:
"Stop, Brooke, stop! For God's sake stop, for the sake of
the memories of the fathers stop ! You have already where-
ased away nearly every principle of the constitution, and if
you go much farther there will not be one left. Stop and let
us save some. Yes, some."
Mr. Brooke, who was a fine constitutional lawyer, wras
very much surprised by this outburst of Mr. Daniel, but he
was a most amiable man, and took what was really a rebuke
and reflection, good naturedly. The labors of the committee
were continued for a time, but they were fruitless.
Mr. Daniel had a habit of talking to himself, or as some
body expressed it, of "thinking aloud." Walking leisurely,
absorbed in thought, up Broad Street one summer evening,
he was talking to himself when a friend joined him and
said, "Mr. Daniel, I heard you just now, and have heard you
frequently, talking to yourself; pardon me, why do you do
it?" He replied instantly, "Simply because I want to have
the pleasure occasionally of talking to a sensible man.'' He
was in many respects a unique man, and was admired gener
ally for his learning and culture, and universally respected
for his keen sense of honor and spotless character.
Nothing of a practical nature was done by the legislature
of 1871-2 and 1872-3 in the way of adjusting the State debt.
IN THE) LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH IQ9
but after various futile sessions a settlement of Virginia's
part was effected, and the debt upon which she pays interest
was $26,843,067.87, as of October i, 1903.
On the first day of January, 1874, I went upon the bench
of the County Court of Rockingham County — a court of
probate, with jurisdiction of all county matters, cases of un
lawful entry and detainer, and the assessment of damages
under the right of eminent domain, and original criminal
jurisdiction of all cases, except where the penalty was death,
in which the accused had the right to elect to be tried in the
Circuit Court, but which right was never exercised during
my incumbency of six years.
The county being large and populous, my judicial duties
were onerous. The terms of the court were monthly and
generally lasted two weeks, so that one half of every year
was spent by me on the bench. During my six years there
were many important and exciting criminal trials — the most
trying and anxious ordeals through which a judge can pass.
All classes of criminal cases, from petit larceny to high
way robbery, burglary, and homicide were before me, and
to act well the part of holding the scales with an even and
steady hand was necessarily a source of constant anxiety
and perplexity. To prevent bias or prejudice from entering
into the mind and heart either for or against the accused
kept me communing daily and hourly with my conscience.
Being compelled like all nisi prius judges to make quick and
rapid rulings from the bench, without opportunity in case of
doubt to consult authorities, many times made me desire to
cast aside the judicial ermine, and yet I retained mv posi
tion for my full term, through some peculiar fascination of
the place.
During my judicial service there were numerous episodes,
some of which I think will bear relating.
On a road at the western base of the Blue Ridge range a
most atrocious murder was committed. A farmer returning
home one evening with his wagon was shot from the way
side and fell dead under his horses. In a little while a pass
ing neighbor found him, and spreading the news others
2OO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
gathered and the dead man was carried to his home. Sus
picion pointed to three persons — the widow, her brother, and
another man of bad reputation — as implicated in the murder.
They were arrested, but there was no evidence against them,
and they were discharged ; but the suspicion would not
down, and two years after the commission of the crime they
were again arrested. At their first hearing they had simply
denied any participation in the killing or knowledge as to
the murderer.
At their second hearing the man with the bad reputation
was not so discreet, and he insisted upon talking, and the
more he talked the stronger became the suspicion, and when
the hearing was over he had done much to lead himself to
the gallows, and he and the widow and brother-in-law were
committed to jail to await the action of the grand jury. De
tectives were employed and the whole community in which
the murderous deed was done was active in following up
clews and searching for testimony. Finally the grand jury
met and indictments were found against all of them — against
the man with the bad reputation, whose name was Anderson
Shifflet, as principal, and against the brother-in-law, whose
name was Silas Morris, and Louisa Lawson, the widow, as
accessories before the fact. In the summer of 1877 tnev
were tried, and in each case the jury with solemn faces re
turned a verdict, "Guilty as charged in the indictment."
This meant death to all, for under the Virginia statutes mur
der by lying in wait, or by poison, or any other wilful and
deliberate murder is punishable by death, and an accessory
before the fact suffers the same penalty as the principal.
Shiffiet, the principal, was a low, debased creature, with
the superstition of a cotton-field negro in the days of slavery,
and believed in omens and apparitions and signs. He had
been raised amid environments that made him pale and
crouch upon the appearance of an ill omen — he could not
help it any more than a horse can help trembling at the sight
of a camel. During his trial a bird flew into the court hall
through an open window and seated itself on a wire
stretched across the hall, directly over him. He saw
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 2OI
it, and instantly he turned ghastly pale, his head
dropped, and he sank down in his chair perfectly
limp. It was one of his ill omens; it meant death
to him. He was the most dejected, crushed, and piti
able looking human being I ever saw. In his mind his doom
was sealed. Before the bird came he had been bright and
seemed to think that he would at least escape the gallows;
after it winged its way into the tribunal of justice and
lighted just above his head, all animation disappeared, his
eve became dull and lifeless, and he gave himself up to the
fate which he was sure awaited him. He was convicted as
I have said, and was executed; but I am sure none of my
readers will think that this little creation in God's inscrutable
plan could direct the current of justice or give token of
either good or evil to a human being. It has been well said,
"Skepticism makes a man mad, and superstition renders a
man a fool."
The trials of these cases stand among the celebrated crim
inal trials of Virginia. As they progressed the develop
ments of the plot to murder Lawson were like turning over
the leaves of a terrible novel, in which marital infidelity was
being portrayed in its hideous colors, and plans by a woman
to rid herself of him to whom she had plighted her faith,
pictured in blackest hue. The evidence against Morris and
the widow — brother and sister — showed, as found by the
jury in each case, that the affections of the wife of Lawson
had been alienated from her husband by a young workman
on Lawson's farm, and that through the assistance of Mor
ris, her brother, Shifflett had been hired for a paltry sum to
murder Lawson, and that the plot had been deeply laid and
carried out with the adroitness and cunning of men trained
in the art of mysterious murder.
The evidence in the case of Shifflett was absolutely con
clusive of his guilt as the principal. As to the justice of his
conviction I never entertained the slightest doubt, and in no
way did it connect either Morris or the widow with the
bloody deed ; but the evidence on their trials was entirely in-
202 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
dependent of that in the case of the principal, and with their
convictions I was not well satisfied.
The star witness was the young workman to whom I have
alluded, the admitted guilty lover of Lawson's wife, and
who, tiring of her after Lawson's death, discarded her and
came forward as a willing witness to testify to admissions
by her of guilt, and also of statements and circumstances
pointing directly to Morris as an accessory before the fact.
He was an untutored mountain fellow, but "as sharp as a
steel trap," and as hard to trip as a Texas broncho. He
stood the fire of the cross-examination, conducted by able
counsel, without a slip or a break, and sustained his repu-
tion for truth by many of his neighbors. The juries believed
him and convictions followed.
Motions were made in arrest of judgment and to set aside
the verdicts, and were overruled, as it was the province of
the jury to consider and weigh the evidence, and they had
believed this star witness, and the judge under the law could
not set the verdict aside, even if he would have rendered a
different verdict if he had been a member of the jury.
In a few days sentences of death were pronounced, and
hand in hand brother and sister, in charge of the jailer,
were taken back to prison to await the awful day of execu
tion, with only one ray of hope — executive clemency. The
sentence of a woman to the gallows had few precedents in
the history of criminal jurisprudence in Virginia. Many
may have deserved it, but, with the rarest exceptions, Vir
ginia juries had never got to the point of consigning a
woman to death by the halter.
So this conviction and sentence created wide-spread inter
est, and aroused the Governor, the chivalrous James L.
Kemper, and he wrote me to give him the facts in the case,
which I did. A little while before the day of execution
came he respited both convicts. Before that respite expired
he wrote me, as near as I can recall his words, as follows :
"Can't something be done to save the neck of Mrs. Lawson.
She is a woman. I do not want her hung if there is any
reasonable ground to prevent it." I replied : "You have all
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 203
the facts. I feel as you do and would gladly recommend
clemency, if I could do so consistently with my judicial oath.
If the evidence was true (and the jury has so held), she is
guilty of deliberate, premeditated murder of her husband,
and under the law the penalty is death. You have all
power, and if you extend clemency I shall never criticise
you ; but if clemency is extended in the case of the woman,
it should be in the case of the man, for the evidence was
stronger against her than against him."
A second respite came from the Governor; then soon a
letter to me to the effect that the thought of hanging a
woman had so wrought upon his feelings as to disturb his
slumbers, and in his dreams he could see her dangling in
the air, and in her death struggles. I replied substantially
as I had previously written him.
In a few days two young men from the neighborhood of
the place of murder — strangers to me — came to my office
and said to me: "Judge, we want to talk with you about
the Lawson murder cases. We want to tell you what we
know. We don't know whether it will amount to anything
or not."
I told them to proceed. They then related to me conversa
tions they had had with the star witness, the guilty lover of
Lawson's wife — startling in their nature and directly con
tradictory to his testimony on the witness-stand on material
points. I sent for the Commonwealth's Attorney, and in
his presence they repeated what they had told me. He and I
conferred and we both agreed that their statements were
very important, and if they had been made in court and be
fore the jury they would have tended to break down the
testimony of the star witness and to have induced a different
verdict. But who were these young men and what were
their characters for truth and veracity? These were ques
tions for inquiry, and the inquiry was undertaken by the
Commonwealth's Attorney. Soon he reported that they
were of good character and fair repute, and I at once wrote
to the Governor recommending executive clemency in both
cases — the brother-in-law and widow.
204 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The Governor acted instantly and commuted the sentences
to imprisonment for life in the penitentiary, and sent the
commutations to the Harrisonburg jail by a member of his
staff, a gentleman who had taken great interest in the cases
— Captain Charles L. Todd, a prominent and esteemed citi
zen of Richmond at this time. Thus by the desire of Gov
ernor Kemper to avoid, if possible, the hanging of a woman,
and his several respites, the lives of these two human beings
were saved from death on the scaffold. Time blazed the
way, and it has always looked to me as though the hand of
God was in their deliverance; that He had induced the two
strange young men to come forward and tell their story, they
not knowing whether or not it would have any effect upon
the question of life or death.
Morris and the widow of the murdered man were con
veyed to the penitentiary to serve life sentences, as they had
every reason to believe. So far as they could see, nothing
else was before them; yet no doubt they hoped some day
to breathe again the air of freedom, hear the birds sing, see
the flowers blooming, the woodlands in their verdant foliage
and the fields bearing their crops, for "hope is the last thing
that dies in man."
All these people were mountain people — born and reared
at the base or in the gorges and passes of the Blue Ridge,
whose beautiful range divides Virginia's Piedmont and Val
ley sections. The wife of Morris had lived all her life amid
the environments of her humble mountain home, uncultured
and untutored, but she displayed a fealty to her husband and
a nobility of character rarely found even in the most cul
tured walks of life. She w:ent with her husband to the very
gates of the prison, there bade him good-by and heard the
heavy hinges creak and the huge bolts shoot into their
sockets as the gates closed. Then out into the strange city
she went, seeking the home of Captain Todd, who had been
the Governor's messenger to convey the tidings of executive
clemency. Into this warm and hospitable home she was re
ceived, and in it she lived for about eight years, visiting her
husband in prison, carrying him food from the table of her
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 205
benefactor, whispering words of hope and cheer into his
ear as often as the prison rules would permit. With un
faltering belief in her husband's innocence she undertook
to secure a pardon. She made visit after visit to Rocking-
ham to secure signers to a petition. At first she met with
little encouragement, but she persisted.
After three or four visits she secured many signatures,
among them several of the jurors. In the meantime the feel
ing was growing that probably the verdict was wrong, and
on her next visit the petition was numerously signed, and on
her last visit she obtained the name of the last juror and a
large number of the county officials and prominent citizens
of the county. Returning to Richmond, with her benefac
tor, Captain Todd, she went to the Executive Office, laid her
petition before the Governor, and made her appeal for the
pardon of her husband. The Governor took the matter
under advisement, with the result that he not only pardoned
her husband, but the widow of the murdered man as well.
So after eight years of prison life, eight years of patient
and persistent work, eight years of prayer, weeping and
heart-aches, eight years of a wife's loyalty and devotion to a
man, felon-clad and from whom the law would have di
vorced her any day, this untutored but noble woman re
ceived the fruition of her labors, and with her pardoned
husband returned to the very neighborhood where they had
formerly lived and started life anew.
Several years ago I learned they had prospered and were
doing well. Morris had conducted himself properly, and
was an orderly, law-abiding citizen, and his wife, as she
richly deserved, had the respect of everybody.
In concluding my account of these celebrated trials, con
victions and sentences, followed by respites, commutations
and pardons in the last two, I must refer to a most pathetic
scene at the sentencing to death of Mrs. Lawson. During
her trial her little son, eight or ten years of age, was con
stantly by her side. When I came to pronounce the sen
tence of the law, the most painful duty of my official life,
nothing I said seemed to touch her until I made an incidental
206 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
allusion to her little son; instantly she threw her arms
around him and wept as though her heart would break. It
was a most striking exhibition of a mother's love. She had
been apparently almost callous — she had nerved herself for
the terrible ordeal, but her strength and will power gave
way at the mention of the child she had borne and nurtured.
The court hall was crowded with strong men, the eyes of
many of them strangers to tears, but there was not one
strong enough to choke back his emotions or keep tears
from flowing ; there was not a dry eye in the hall.
This lad, after the removal of his mother to the peniten
tiary, was adopted by the sheriff of the county, David H.
Rallston, a man whose heart was as kind as ever beat in a
human breast, and well indeed did he do his full part by the
unfortunate lad. He sent him first to the common school
and then to the graded school. The boy was a good stu
dent, progressed rapidly, stood high in his classes and car
ried off many honors. When he attained his majority he
went to some Western State, and some years ago I heard he
was succeeding well.
How true are the oft-quoted lines :
"Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honor lies."
The Commonwealth's Attorney who prosecuted in these
cases was John Paul, who afterwards served a term in Con
gress and was then appointed United States District Judge
for the Western District of Virginia. He was one of the
ablest prosecuting attorneys I have ever known; his con
gressional service was creditable, and his career as Judge
from 1883 to 1902, when he died, was marked with ability
and with an honesty and uprightness of purpose that drew
plaudits from the bar of his district, and stamped him as a
just, impartial, and incorruptible judge.
The leading attorney for the defense was John E. Roller,
and well did he act his part and do his duty. Astute, cau
tious, and watchful, never tiring, never lacking in quickness
to object to what he conceived to be an improper question
IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 2O/
and then maintaining his position with great force; search
ing and severe in the cross-examination of opposing wit
nesses and drawing most skilfully from the witnesses for
the defense every point favorable to his clients. Between
the two — Paul and Roller — it was indeed a battle royal and
a fight to the finish. They were both young men, neither
forty — the latter, who was the junior, not more than thirty-
five.
There were, as I have said, other interesting and im
portant criminal trials during my judicial term, but space
will not suffice to recount any of them, so I must leave the
incidents connected with them where they are, stored away
in my memory.
My six-years term as judge expired on the first day of
January, 1880, and though I arn proud to say no objections
were raised by even political foes to the manner in which
I had discharged my judicial duties, the edict went forth
from a dominant faction of my own political party with
which I was not aligned that my judicial head must be cut
off, and when the legislature met, off it went, and in my
stead a distinguished and highly-esteemed member of the
county bar who belonged to the stronger faction, Colonel
Robert Johnston, was elected as my successor.
CHAPTER III
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1882.
A Memorable Political Convention — A Fight for the Gubernatorial
Nomination — Mahoneites versus Danielites — Mahone's Political
Ambition — Formation of the "Readjuster" Party — Mahone's Purpose
— The State Convention of 1881 — Daniel versus Cameron — I Make
the Race for Congress — A Hot Campaign — Defeated at the Polls,
but Win on a Contest — Anecdotes of the Campaign.
In 1877 a Democratic State Convention was convened in
Richmond to nominate candidates for Governor and other
State officers.
It was perhaps the most memorable political conven
tion ever held in the State. The excitement was intense
and feeling ran high. There were six candidates for the
first place on the ticket, all distinguished Confederate vet
erans — General William Mahone, styled "the hero of the
Crater," meaning the Petersburg Crater, that maelstrom of
death; General Fitzhugh Lee, whose gleaming blade had
made him famous; General William B. Taliaferro, a hero
of the Mexican War as well as a Confederate veteran, whose
record was as bright as the morning star; Colonel William
Terry, among the bravest of the brave of the South's de
fenders; Colonel Frederick W. M. Holliday, whose empty
sleeve told the story of his devotion to the cause all Vir
ginians loved, and Major John W. Daniel, whose crutch
and lame leg bore witness to his loyalty to his State and
section in the mighty struggle that had bathed his South
land in the commingled blood of the gray and the blue.
The first ballot developed the strength of the various can
didates in the following order; Mahone, Daniel, Holliday,
Lee, Taliaferro and Terry. The balloting progressed until
Terry, Taliaferro, and Lee had been dropped, leaving Ma
hone, Daniel, and Holliday holding the same relative posi
tions as when the voting commenced. General John Echols
had been selected as floor manager of Holliday's forces, and
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1882 209
I had been named as his assistant or lieutenant, and as soon
as the result of the third ballot was announced the Gen
eral asked permission for the followers of Holliday to retire
for a conference. Permission was granted, and we retired
to Sanger Hall. There Holliday's strength was largely
augmented by many of the followers of Lee, Taliaferro, and
Terry. Each had despaired of nominating his candidate,
and they had come to join hands with us for Holliday.
It had been known from the time the delegates began to
gather that there was a bitter feud between the Mahoneites
and Danielites, and that they would never clasp hands across
the wide abyss that separated them. The meeting of the
Hollidayites was organized and General Echols addressed it.
He said substantially that it was apparent to all that the
battle-cry of Mahone was "slaughter Daniel," and the bat
tle-cry of Daniel was "slaughter Mahone," and that as soon
as either was convinced that he could not be nominated he
would carry his strength to Holliday as far as possible as the
next strongest candidate, which would of course insure Hol-
liday's success. He then said: "Under the rules of the
convention each of the dropped candidates can be put in
nomination a second time. Will their friends do this, and
give Mahone and Daniel time to convince themselves that
they cannot win the prize?" Instantly the response came
from the friends of all, "Yes, we will do it."
Our meeting adjourned and we returned to the conven
tion hall. Lee, Taliaferro, and Terry were again put in
nomination, and one after another dropped the second time,
shutting them out of the contest, and leaving only Mahone,
Daniel, and Holliday still in the field.
General Echols's words had been prophetic. While the
clerks were getting ready to take the next ballot the word
came to the General and myself from Mahone' s headquar
ters that he would be withdrawn and his strength trans
ferred to Holliday, but we were admonished to keep quiet,
"say nothing." We heeded the admonition and remained
as silent as dumb men, and waited with almost breathless
anxiety the coming event.
2IO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Directly Captain John S. Wise, a staunch supporter of
General Mahone, stepped to the front of the platform, and
with that dash and vivacity which with his flow of language
and grace of manner has always made him a most attractive
speaker, after paying a beautiful tribute to General Mahone,
withdrew him, concluding his brief speech as near as I can
remember in these words :
At Appomattox the division of Mahone stacked more muskets than
any other division of Lee's army, and General Mahone has now the
proud distinction of having more followers on this floor than any other
candidate who has aspired to the honor of the nomination for Governor
of this glorious old State.
I am commissioned by the hero of the Crater to appeal to every
friend of his within these convention walls to remember his watch
word, "Follow Accomac," and cast his vote for the one-armed hero of
the Shenandoah Valley, Colonel F. W. M. Holliday.
For many minutes pandemonium reigned; cheers and
shouts from Mahoneites and Hollidayites shook the build
ing. The scene could hardly be described. Mahone had
discovered that he had little gathering strength, and if Hol
liday was dropped Daniel would be nominated, and he deter
mined that if he had to bite the dust he would carry Daniel
down with him.
The Danielites were taken by surprise; their hopes had
been high; they had reckoned that with Holliday out of
the contest they would receive much the larger percentage
of his following, and with them they would land their fa
vorite as the winner in handsome style, and the withdrawal
of Mahone was as startling and demoralizing to them as
would have been the bursting of a bomb in their camp.
However, they quickly recovered from the shock and at
tempted to arrest the tidal wave, but their efforts were all in
vain. The calling of the roll commenced. Accomac, the
first county on the roll, was called ; the chairman of her dele
gation, Senator Abel T. Johnson, the tallest man in the con
vention, responded in a deep, sonorous voice: "Accomac
casts her thirty-two votes for the one-armed hero of the
Shenandoah Valley, Colonel F. W. M. Holliday"; and then
one after another of the Mahone delegations, through the
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1882 211
list, remembered its watch-word, "Follow Accomac," and
cast its votes as Accomac had voted, resulting in the nom
ination of Holliday by a decisive majority.
Mahone had himself failed to win the high prize, but he
had done the thing next to his heart — he had defeated Dan
iel. Holliday was elected Governor, and during his term
the State debt continued to be a bone of contention, and the
legislative halls rang with the voices of the contending fac
tions.
Mahone' s great political ambition had been to wear guber
natorial honors; he had been a most zealous and effective
worker in the Democratic party; he had been potential in
the councils of his party; his war record was bright, and
his defeat in the Convention of 1877 had made him sore
toward his party and vindictive toward its most prominent
leaders, and he began to organize what he termed the "Re-
adjuster Party" — a party to readjust the State debt upon
certain lines which he indicated. He was a superior organ
izer and leader of men; he had great personal magnetism
and will-power. He was of very small stature, but he was
a bundle of nerves and a prodigy in energy.
He publicly invited all classes, regardless of their past
party affiliations, — whether Democratic or Republican,
white or colored, — to join him, promising free schools for
the blacks and a full enforcement of all civil-rights laws. He
looked around for young men who had ability and political
ambition, and impressed many of them with his views on
the debt question, and imbued them with his spirit of revolt
and with his idea that the time was ripe for the dethrone
ment of Bourbon rule, as he termed it, and the relegation to
the rear of "old fossils," as he styled the leaders of the
Democratic party, and the birth of a new and progressive
party, with young men at the helm. He made rapid pro
gress — so rapid that a "Readjuster" legislature, after a des
perate fight, was elected in 1879, and this legislature filled
the county judgeships, and the positions of State auditors
and treasurer with men of their own political faith, and
elected Mahone to a seat in the Senate of the United States ;
212 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE) SERVICE
in this movement I lost the judgeship which I had held for
six years, because "I could not speak the language of the
tribe."
In the Presidential election of 1880 the Readjusters nom
inated an electoral ticket which they denominated a Han
cock ticket; besides there were straight Democratic and
Republican tickets. The nomination of the Readjuster elec
toral ticket "was pursuant to an understanding and at the
time thought advisable by Mahone, who, if his electors won,
could go for Hancock or not, as circumstances might sug
gest; while if he failed the Republicans might profit by the
separation."
This was charged by the Democrats to be the purpose of
Mahone in putting his ticket in the field, and I make the
statement now upon the authority of Hon. Thomas V.
Cooper, chairman of the Republican State Committee of
Pennsylvania, in his admirable book entitled "American
Politics," 1882, an entirely non-partisan work.
The Readjusters elected two members of Congress, but
their electoral ticket failed of election, and the regular
Democratic ticket was elected by a safe plurality. In this
Presidential campaign I was a State canvasser, and was
confronted on the hustings by both Readjuster and Republi
can speakers, and the joint discussions were always spirited
and peppery.
In 1 88 1 another election for Governor took place. The
Democratic State Convention to nominate a State ticket met
as usual in Richmond. It was a tame affair as compared
with the Convention of 1877. It can hardly be said that
there \vere any seekers for the nomination for the first place.
The result of the election was exceedingly doubtful in the
opinion of the most optimistic Democrat.
The delegates were at sea as to a candidate ; many promi
nent men were willing to run, from a sense of party duty if
nominated, but not one of them was hankering after or long
ing for the honor at that particular time; each was willing to
take the chances of martyrdom if the lot fell to him, but he
was not putting himself where lightning could easily strike
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1 882 213
him, or doing anything to call attention to himself as an
available candidate. For many hours the convention had
been in session and ten o'clock at night was near; various
names had been suggested and placed before the body, but
they were received listlessly, and no gentleman whose name
had been presented had received more than a respectable
vote, when suddenly Ned Dandridge, of Winchester, sprang
upon the platform, and in a speech never excelled on such an
occasion, he inspired the convention with hope of success in
the coming election, pictured the record of the Democratic
party, and recounted its achievements in soul-stirring words.
He then said that he had the name of a gentleman to present
to the convention.
He proceeded to describe the man, and pay him a tribute,
and before he could name his man, so well had been his
description of him that the hall rang with cheers for John
W. Daniel. In a few minutes all other names were with
drawn and Daniel was nominated by acclamation. The
party had finally selected its candidate. Dandridge's speech
had lifted the delegates out of the slough of despondency,
inspired them with hope, and named a man in whom they
were willing to confide the fate of their party. I have never
heard or read of a speech, not excepting "Crown of Thorns,"
that had a more magic effect upon a body of men than the
speech of Dandridge; and it was superior to "Crown of
Thorns," for it was impromptu, while Crown of Thorns was
a production of long study.
Against Daniel, Republicans and former Democrats, who
had become Readjusters, or Mahoneites, as they were styled,
pitted the talented and gifted William E. Cameron, of Pe
tersburg, and by arrangement the candidates met on various
occasions in joint debate on the hustings before immense
gatherings. Daniel was eloquent and thrilling, persuasive
in style and captivating in manner, and being lame from a
desperate wound, he made telling appeals to Confederate
soldiers not to ally themselves with Republicans in an effort
to defeat him.
214 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Cameron had not had the training and experience of his
opponent as a public speaker; he had been the editor of a
city newspaper and had made great reputation in that line;
but he soon proved that he was as strong with his tongue as
he had been with his pen ; he was eloquent, not as eloquent
however as his competitor, but he was Daniel's match in
debate, and more incisive. His soldier-record was as good
as the best, and in this respect the two candidates were equal.
The canvass was long, covering the entire State, and was
warm and exciting from first to last. There were scores
of speakers on the stump; joint discussions were the rule,
and they attracted large crowds, and frequently after the
war of words extremists would undertake to settle the issue
by fist and skull combats. For three months I was almost
daily engaged in joint debate — sometimes winning victories,
other times feeling that I could do no more than claim a
drawn battle, giving myself the benefit of any doubt.
The election resulted in Daniel's defeat. Cameron's ma
jority out of a vote of 211,230 was 11,716.
As I have stated, the Readjusters elected two members of
Congress in 1880 — Paul and Fulkerson. The former was
from my Congressional district — the Shenandoah Valley
district, and with a colored Republican candidate who drew
from Paul seven or eight hundred votes in the field, he de
feated Judge Henry C. Allen, the Democratic candidate,
who was an able and popular man, by a majoriy of 1,800
votes.
When the time for the Congressional election of 1882 was
approaching it was announced that Paul would be renomi-
nated by acclamation, and the Democrats began to look
around for a candidate to oppose him. They remembered
their defeat two years before; they recognized in Paul a
very formidable man, possessing all the elements of personal
popularity, strong and magnetic as a speaker, with a splendid
record as a soldier, and untiring energy. This district was
full of Democrats who had congressional aspirations and I
was among them, but there were no earnest seekers for the
nomination. All regarded the defeat of the Readjuster can-
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1 882 215
didate as the raw Irishman regarded his fight with a trained
shoulder-hitter, "a tough proposition."
The delegations were sent to the convention, which was
held in Staunton, without instructions. They met on a
Wednesday in August, and after deliberating some time I
was nominated. The canvass opened the next Monday with
a joint discussion between my able competitor and myself at
Staunton. He and I were personal friends and lived in the
same town ; we had practised at the bar together for years,
and had spoken together on many a Democratic platform
before the birth of Readjusterism ; while I was a judge, he
was the prosecuting attorney. We knew each other "from
end to end," as the saying goes. I regarded him as a
stumper worthy of the steel of the best in the Common
wealth. I knew that before me was a desperate fight, and
that if I hoped to win I must tax my energies of mind and
body to the utmost, and make no mistake. There were ten
counties and numerous towns in the district, and it extended
from the spurs of the Alleghanies to almost the gates of
Richmond; it covered a territory two hundred miles long
and one hundred miles wide. The canvass started warm,
and it became warmer and warmer as it progressed, and at
its close the feeling in both parties was at white heat.
My competitor and I smote each other hip and thigh and
struck hard and fast, and each was on his mettle, but noth
ing was said or done by either of which the other could
justly complain. Besides the hearty support we had from
our respective parties, the host of enthusiastic personal fol
lowers each of us had, gave increased intensity to the feel
ing. Taking it all and all, it is regarded as the hardest and
most exciting contest that has ever occurred in the State.
My hope of election was slight at first, but after a little it
began to grow, and when I returned home the evening be
fore the election I was confident that with the setting of the
next day's sun victory would perch upon my banner. But
oft
"Hope tells a flattering tale,
Delusive, vain and hollow."
and so it was in my case.
2l6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The returns showed 12,146 votes for my competitor and
11,941 votes for me — a majority of 205 votes against me.
Before the result was known my friends all over the district
were wiring me charges of fraud by the election and other
officials, who were Readjusters.
At that time the payment of the capitation tax by a voter
before the day of election was a prerequisite to voting.
There were many delinquent voters, mostly among the coU
ored, who were all against me, and hundreds of these peo
ple were given receipts for their taxes on the day of election,
dated prior thereto, by unscrupulous tax collectors, without
the payment of any money; these voters would exhibit their
receipts at the polls, cast their ballots against me, and then
return the receipts to the collectors.
I notified my competitor that I would contest his seat upon
the ground of fraud, and went to work to secure the neces
sary proof. In due time the notice of contest was served and
depositions taken. The contest wras heard by the House of
Representatives and the seat was awarded to me. I desire
to say here with emphasis that I am sure that my competi
tor was not privy, directly or indirectly, to the frauds. It
was a scheme hatched and put into operation without his
knowledge.
During the canvass of which I have just been writing
amusing incidents frequently occurred. At one appointment
I was speaking with much earnestness and the day was hot,
when a fellow pretty full of "mountain dew," standing near,
looking up in my face, with his mouth spread from ear to
ear, blurted out: "That's right, Colonel, put 'em in fast.
You are hot and still a heating, I am drunk and still a drink-
ing."
At another place Captain Paul was referring to the fact
that he was raised in the country and had worked on his
father's farm. "In fact," said he, "I was about raised be
tween two corn rows." Some fellow in the crowd hollered,
"By golly, that's where pumpkins are usually raised !"
It sounded like a reflection upon Captain Paul, but I have
no idea that it was so intended, for Paul wras one of the last
STATE POLITICS FROM 1 877 TO 1 882 217
men I have ever known to whom such a remark would ap
ply. There was nothing soft in him; he was as solid and
firm as granite.
At still another appointment, where I was engaged in a
discussion with a gentleman who had taken my competitor's
place for the day, giving me an easier task than had been
my lot, this gentleman was parading himself as a peculiar
friend of the public schools. He expressed a desire to be
buried when he died where the poor little bare-footed moun
tain school-girl could pass his grave on her way to school and
drop upon his breast a mountain daisy as a token of her
gratitude.
A wag in the audience rose and said : "Mister, I'se from
the mountain, and we hain't got no such flower as you say
you want drapped on your breast. We have a flower we
call a bull-eye. Won't that do? You must talk plain talk
to us mountain-folks, and leave off your frills. We don't
think you has ever been among us mountain-folks, or you'd
know better how to 'dress us. That's all. Now go ahead."
This speaker had already disappointed the Readjusters
and he seemed to feel it, and this mountaineer's interruption
had so frustrated him that he floundered about for a few
minutes, and then complaining of not being well, sat down
before his time expired. I had the right to close the discus
sion, but waived it upon the ground that I had never treated
a wounded foe unkindly during the war, and I would not
now strike a sick and disabled foe. Just then the moun
taineer arose again and said: "Mister, I'se sorry I made
you sick. You must fergive me; I didn't mean to do it.
How is you troubled. Maybe I'se got somethin' that'll help
you. Will you try a bit." While the mountaineer was
talking I left the stand, and when he concluded the crowd
gradually scattered and the meeting was over.
In justice to the "sick" speaker I should say that I discov
ered before the discussion commenced that he was very ner
vous, and while I did not expect to see him break down, I
felt that "he was my meat," using an old stump phrase. He
2l8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
was not, for some reason, at his best, for I had heard him
make several very creditable efforts.
At this time Virginia was entitled to nine district repre
sentatives and one representative at large. The Democrats
were successful in six districts, and the Readjusters in three,
and besides they secured the representative from the State at
large. Two of the Readjuster representatives were pro
nounced Republicans in National politics.
The representative at large was John S. Wise, who had
made the speech to which I have referred, withdrawing Gen
eral Mahone as a candidate for the Democratic nomination
for Governor in the memorable Convention of 1877. He
had followed, with unflagging zeal and devotion, General
Mahone into the Readjuster party, and was among the Gen
eral's most cherished and valued lieutenants. His father,
Henry A. Wise, by his burning eloquence and biting satire,
had destroyed Know Nothingism in his famous campaign
for Governor in 1855.
As a small boy I heard him make a speech in that canvass
at my home, where a majority of his audience, were Know
Nothings, and never in my life have I heard from any man
such invective as rolled in an unceasing flood from his
tongue, and never have I heard from any speaker such soar
ing eloquence. Many years have passed, and the men of
mature years who heard him have all crossed over the river,
and perhaps most of the lads of my age who listened with
boyish ears to that great champion of Democracy and de
nouncer of "midnight conclaves, secret plots, grips, signs
and passwords, in a free and enlightened land," have gone
the way of all flesh, yet the speaker, speech, and scene are
as vivid in my memory as though but a fortnight had rolled
its short course since. He was elected and toward the close
of his term occurred the John Brown raid at Harpers Fer
ry. He was a most impulsive man, earnest and unyielding
in his convictions. He was opposed to the secession move
ment, and thought the South should fight for her rights
in the Union and under the flag of the Union ; that Virginia
and other original Southern States had done as much, if not
STATE POLITICS FROM 1877 TO 1882 219
more, than the original Northern States, in blood and
money, to secure and establish the Federal Union, and they
should not yield their part and parcel in it to States that
were violating, as he contended, the compact and trampling
upon guaranteed rights. There were many prominent Vir
ginians who agreed with him, but when the State passed her
ordinance of secession he promptly tendered his services to
Virginia and was appointed a brigadier-general in the Con
federate Army, and was in command at Roanoke Island,
North Carolina, when the island was attacked and captured,
and his brilliant son, Captain O. Jennings Wise, killed.
John S. Wise inherited in a marked degree the talent and
characteristics of his father, and in his canvass for Vir
ginia's representative at large in Congress, in 1882, he
aroused the Readjusters to the highest pitch of enthusiasm,
and they drank in his eloquence and with remarkable avid
ity hung upon his words as they flowed with lightning
speed. He was a dangerous man to meet in debate on the
hustings, and to cope with him was no easy task.
CHAPTER IV
THE RISE AND FALL OF MAHONE.
About "Affairs of Honor" — John S. Wise's Courageous Declaration on
the Subject— The State Wrested from the Readjustee— Mahone
Throws off his Cloak— A Majority of One and who Cast the
Deciding Vote — Fitz Lee Nominated — An Account of a Joint Debate
— Mahone's Fall.
Prior to this canvass of 1882, and while Readjusterism
was cutting a heavy swath, there were numerous "affairs of
honor," and several duels had been fought and others barely
averted. There had been from time immemorial, in Vir
ginia, a disposition upon the part of a gentleman who felt
aggrieved by some act or word of another to demand satis
faction at ten paces with pistols. "Pistols and coffee for
two" was the saying in the days of dueling. In the life of
Virginia there had been many "meetings on the field of
honor," as they were styled, and scores had been bloody and
some fatal.
The duel between Clay and Randolph, fought on the
banks of the Potomac just opposite Washington, was blood
less, though Clay fired twice and Randolph once, ending in
the renewal of friendly relations ; and the Ritchie and Pleas-
ants duel, in which the brilliant Pleasants was killed; and
the Droomgoole and Bugger meeting, in which the former,
one of Virginia's shining lights, met his death, are written
indelibly in the annals of the State because of the promi
nence of the participants. Another fatal meeting was be
tween McCarthy and Mordecai, both young men, which
took place within the present corporate limits of Richmond.
McCarthy was shot nigh unto death and Mordecai was
killed.
I could mention other "affairs" during the days when
public sentiment favored the settlement of affronts by a re
sort to combat with deadly weapons, under the rules of the
code duello, but it would be raking over ashes of the past
THE RISE AND FAU, OF MAHONE 221
which it would be better to leave undisturbed. The senti
ment which sustained this mode of vindicating wounded
honor has about passed away, except perhaps in extreme
cases, and it was given its quietus, in great measure at least,
in 1882 by John S. Wise during his canvass for Congress
man at large. He had been raised in a school which taught
that dueling was right and proper under the circumstances I
have stated, and had been connected with several "affairs."
In his canvass he was challenged by John S. Crockett, of
Wytheville, whose very name was a synonym of courage.
Wise accepted the challenge at once, the "cartel" was drawn
up, and the principals, with their seconds and surgeons, met
on a bright morning in July ; fortunately they both escaped
injury, and expressing satisfaction they left the field. Soon
after this meeting, when all around was quiet and serene,
John S. Wise publicly announced that he would never en
gage in another duel.
He had always been regarded as personally courageous,
and I believe justly so, but in his public announcement he
displayed a moral courage which few men in his position and
with his antecedents would have shown. It was most com
mendable in him, and it was the beginning of an outspoken
sentiment against dueling in Virginia, which has grown
more and more emphatic with each of the twenty-two years
that have elapsed since from his lips or pen came the an
nouncement that he had fought his last duel.
The loss of the State to Wise in 1882 stimulated the Dem
ocrats to make a strenuous effort in the legislative election
of 1883. The convention convened in Lynchburg, and after
some deliberation as to the selection of a chairman of the
State Committee, elected John S. Barbour by acclamation,
and prevailed upon him to accept the trust. In his selection
the convention made no mistake. He had long been promi
nent in the councils of the party, and was regarded as a man
of ripe judgment and untiring energy. He measured up
fully to the requirements of the position. He organized the
party in every county and city most systematically and thor
oughly. He mustered into service every Democrat who had
222 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
fair capacity as a stump speaker and waged the most deter
mined fight that had ever been made in the old Common
wealth. Mahone was at the head of the Readjuster organi
zation, and it was "diamond cut diamond." Both were on
their mettle; both were fighting with their visors down.
Election day came and Barbour won — the State went Demo
cratic and both branches of the legislature were wrested
from the Readjusters ; but the Executive of the State, Gov
ernor Cameron, elected by the Readjusters, was still in office.
When the Presidential election of 1884 rolled round, Ma-
hone threw off what the Democrats believed all along to be
a cloak to conceal his real political convictions and purposes.
He proclaimed himself a Republican and supported Blaine
for President. But many of his Readjuster followers here
called a halt ; they would not follow him into the Republican
party, and they renewed their allegiance to the Democratic
party and became most zealous in their support of Cleve
land. The Democrats, still led by Barbour, with Mahone
again "in the saddle/* went into the campaign inspired by
their victory of the previous year, and enthused by the splen
did qualities and winning record of their Presidential candi
date. They made an aggressive fight and achieved another
signal victory.
I had been renominated for my second term in Congress
without opposition in the convention, and re-elected over
my Republican competitor, Dr. J. B. Webb, by more than
3,000 majority. My county, which had gone against me in
my contest with my Readjuster opponent two years before,
had been brought into the Democratic column. The major
ity was as small as possible, only one — nothing to brag-
about, except in comparison with the former Readjuster
majorities. It was amusing to hear Democrat after Demo
crat claiming the credit of the unit victory.
Finally on the court-day succeeding the election I settled
the dispute by relating an incident that occurred the night
before the election. A young Republican who was to cast
his first vote the next day was visiting a young Democratic
girl, who had promised to become his bride, and he had
THE) RISE) AND £AI<L, OF MAHONE 223
called to fix the nuptial day. He gently and lovingly ap
proached the subject, but she gave him an evasive answer.
He pressed for a direct reply to his suggestion, still she was
coy. Finally this colloquy took place :
She. "John, to-morrow is election day." He. "Yes,
Sally, it is, and I shall cast my first vote." She. "And that
must be a Democratic vote." He. "Oh no, it will be a Re
publican vote. I'm a Republican." She. "Then you think
more of that Republican vote than you do of me?" He.
"No I don't, either." She. "Yes you do." He. "No I
don't." She. "Yes you do, or you wrould give it up to get
me." He. "Why, Sally, you don't mean to say that I can't
get you if I vote that ticket?" She. "Yes, you have the
thing exactly right. I was reading since I saw you last that
the Republican party in Virginia was about seven-eighths
black, and if you go along with such a crowd you can't get
me." He protested; he insisted that political equality did
not mean social equality, but he failed to convince her. She
excused herself for a few minutes, and then returned with
an election ticket in her left hand, and upon it were the
names of "Cleveland, Hendricks, and O'Ferrall." She said :
"John, here is my hand" — stretching forth her right hand —
"and here is a Democratic ticket" — extending her left hand.
"If I give you my hand you must take this ticket and give
me your word of honor you will vote it."
He looked intently at her for a moment and said, "Sally,
are you in dead earnest or are you joking?" She replied,
"John, this is no joking matter; I'm in dead earnest." In
stantly he wilted, and said, "All right, Sally, give me your
hand and give me that ticket. I promise you to vote it to
morrow if it kills me." The next day he cast a Democratic
ballot, and the county went Democratic by a majority of
one. All the claimants of the credit of Rockingham's one
Democratic majority withdrew from the contest and gave
three cheers for the bonny lassie.
Two Democratic victories had now been achieved in suc
cession, one over the Readjusters, and the other over the Re
publicans, strengthened by the Readjusters, who had come
224 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
out boldly and declared they were Republicans — most of
them upon the ground, as they stated, that they were pro
tectionists, and opposed to the Democratic doctrine on the
tariff. But General Mahone was not done fighting ; he was
as fierce in his opposition to "Bourbonism," as he styled
Democracy, as ever, and losing no time he commenced to or
ganize for the gubernatorial election of 1885. His two de
feats had not daunted him in the least ; he was as full of fire
as if he had met no reverses.
The Democrats being forewarned that to maintain their
advantage they must be vigilant and active, under the di
rection of Barbour, their chief, kept their organization in
perfect form, and strengthened as far as they could all weak
places in their lines. The twelve months rolled round rapid
ly and the two State conventions were held. The Republi
cans nominated John S. Wise; the Democrats, Fitzhugh
Lee.
Fitz Lee knew little about organizing a political party,
and he had at that time only meagre training as a stump-
speaker, but he developed rapidly and made an excellent and
captivating canvass. Cavalcades of old soldiers greeted him
at the depots, and mounting a fine horse, awaiting him, he
would ride at the head of "the boys," with the same grace
as of the days of carnage, to the gathering places of "the
sovereigns," wrhere he was always received with cheers and
wild enthusiasm. The candidates had no joint discussions,
it being the policy of the Democratic party to have its own
meetings, except occasionally in the white counties of the
State, the purpose being to show that the colored voters of
the State were welded together in a solid mass with a small
percentage of the white voters, against the great body of the
white voters.
Occasionally, as I have said, in a county where the colored
population was infinitesimal there would be a joint discus
sion, and it so happened that I was appointed by the State
Committee to meet Honorable John S. Wise, the Republican
gubernatorial candidate, in one of these counties.
This meeting was in Grayson County, in the southwestern
THE: RISE; AND FALL OF MAHONE 225
section of the State, almost entirely a white county. The
gathering was very large, and about equally divided politi
cally. The discussion lasted for more than four hours, with
the excitement at boiling heat; but the crowd was on its
good behavior, for each side realized that an imprudent dem
onstration would probably result in serious trouble. The
distinguished candidate and noted speaker was in fine trim,
though he had been speaking daily for weeks. I was in ex
cellent health and vigor, though I had been doing hard work
for many days. It was a discussion of the principles of Re
publicanism and Democracy, untinged with Readjusterism.
In my early political days I was advised by an "old sta
ger " never to allow my opponent to put me on the defensive,
and I always endeavored to follow his advice, so I was ag
gressive; but my opponent was equally as vigorous in at
tack. I had a splendid candidate, with a magic name and
record. The opposing candidate, representing himself, had
a magnetic name in Virginia, and he had been wounded with
the boy cadets of the Virginia Military Institute in the Bat
tle of New Market, where the corps immortalized itself,
about fifty of them being killed and wounded.
In our discussion it was stroke and parry, thrust and
guard, figuratively speaking, for four hours, and at the close
each of us received an ovation from our respective friends —
each side claiming a victory for its champion. We retired
to the village hotel, changed our clothing, for we were as wet
as wharf rats, and then sat down together to a warm dinner
and chatted pleasantly, to the amazement of those who saw
us, for they could not understand, as they said, "How men
could slather each other as we had done, and still be friend
ly." Little did they know the ways of politics and politi
cians.
I regard that discussion as the hardest fight of my political
life.
Lee was elected over Wise by a majority of 16,034 votes,
in a total vote of 289,054. Grayson County, which had
given a majority in 1884 against Democracy, gave a small
Democratic majority, which was gratifying to me, for I was
15
226 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
vain enough to attribute it somewhat to the effect of the dis
cussion I had with the brilliant and dashing Republican
gubernatorial candidate.
This was Barbour's third victory over Mahone. In 1887
a Democratic legislature was secured without difficulty, and
in 1888 Cleveland carried the State and I was re-elected to
Congress for my fourth term ; though under the leadership
of Mahone there was vigorous opposition to both electoral
and congressional tickets. The year 1889 brought another
contest for Governor. There were numerous candidates for
the Democratic nomination. Philip W. McKinney, an elo
quent and distinguished lawyer and lovable man; Richard
A. Beirne, editor of the Richmond State, a brilliant writer
and a splendid fellow, young and full of life and vivacity,
brave and fearless, with a host of friends, particularly
among the young men ; John T. Harris, a former member
of Congress for ten years, an astute politician, and posses
sing much personal magnetism ; Samuel W. Venable, a
prominent and most worthy citizen, and most successful bus
iness man, and myself. In the convention McKinney was
nominated on the second ballot, with Beirne second, while
I came third, close on his heels.
It had been understood for some time that Mahone in
tended to make a herculean effort to reach the Executive
chair, which seemed to be the pinnacle of his ambition, and
that he would be the Republican candidate for Governor;
and such he became by acclamation in the convention.
He was not a speaker, and made no attempt to canvass the
State, trusting that to his lieutenants and subalterns ; but he
was engaged in giving directions and in using his consum
mate skill as an organizer. He wielded a trenchant pen, and
much of the literature of his party, which was scattered
broadcast, was prepared by him. But while he did not real
ize it, he was in his death struggle, he was making his last
fight, his star was setting, the doom of an inglorious defeat
was before him. McKinney was elected by a majority of
42,953 in a total vote of 285,471 votes.
This was the political end of General Mahone, and there
THE RISE AND FALIv OF MAHONE 22?
was something really pathetic in his downfall. He was a
Virginian to the manor born ; he had come up from the peo
ple with neither wealth nor influential friends in early life to
aid him, yet he had worked his way from a civil engineer to
the presidency of an important trunk-line railway system,
over four hundred miles in length; he had raised and com
manded the Sixth Virginia Regiment of Infantry in the
War between the States, and had become a major-general in
1864. He had been a Democrat, earnest and influential in
Democratic councils, and a tower of strength to his party in
several important crises-. When he aspired to the Demo
cratic nomination for Governor he had a powerful follow
ing, greater than any of the other five aspirants. But for
some reason or in some way he had incurred the enmity of
a number of influential men in the party, and they encom
passed his defeat in the convention, or rather forced his re
tirement from the field to avoid it. Then he organized the
Readjuster party and became its leader, with dictatorial
powers, and was sent to the United States Senate for a term
of six years; then he proclaimed himself a Republican and
was made the leader of that party in Virginia, with absolute
sway; then, after suffering various defeats, he finally met
his Waterloo in 1889, and the sceptre of leadership dropped
from his hand forever, and he fell like Lucifer,
"Never to hope again."
War is cruel and so is politics often. During General
Mahone's candidacy an effort was made to reflect upon his
soldier-record. Through all the years after Appomattox
until he changed his political colors his record had been re
garded clear and spotless, but in the fierceness of the politi
cal conflicts that followed his political change there were
whisperings among extreme Democratic partisans that there
were blots upon his soldier-record, and when he became a
candidate for Governor the whisperings grew into a loud
acclaim. But I am glad to say that the charge had little ef
fect, and the members of his old division, without regard to
their party faith, resented it with spirit. I regarded it as
cruel.
CHAPTER V
FROM CONGRESS TO THE GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR
Re-elected to My Fifth Term in Congress — I Announce My Candidacy
for the Nomination for Governor — Shall the Office Seek the Man
or the Man the Office — My Pride in Virginia — My Rivals for the
Nomination — Free Silver in the Convention — My Canvass — Inau
gurated as Governor — The Zenith of My Political Ambition — My
First Regular Message— The Coal Strike of 1895— Coxey's Army—
The Question of Pardons — Some Unique Cases — Oyster Disturb
ances — "Wise's Oyster Fundum Views."
From 1889 forward the Democrats had easy sailing in
smooth water until the Presidential election of 1896, to
which I shall refer later.
In 1890 I was re-elected to my fifth term in Congress
by a large majority, and in 1892 Cleveland carried the State
with mere formal opposition, and I received my sixth and
last commission to a seat in the House of Representatives.
In the spring of 1893 I announced my candidacy for the
Democratic nomination for Governor, and set about per
fecting my organization. In 1889 I had been inert and
made no special effort; this time I determined to strike
hard for the high prize. I had become convinced that the
so-called Washington idea of "letting the office seek the
man, not the man the office" — if the Father of his Country
had ever acted upon this principle, and that was the rule in
his day and generation, it would not do in these hustling
political times. Neither could I see why I should quietly
fold my arms and lie supinely upon my back and pray for
the coming of the office in search of me; my ambition was
laudable, and I could discover no reason why I should con
ceal it from my friends.
And, by the way, let me say at the risk of censure at the
hands of those who have been impressed with the oft-re
peated reputed declaration of our illustrious first President,
whose memory I venerate as much as they do, that from my
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 229
reading of moth-eaten and time-worn chronicles of the
latter part of the eighteenth century, I am convinced that
the sage of Mount Vernon was a consummate politician and
that his ways were not different from the ways of the high-
minded and honorable politicians of the present day, who
do not think they lower their dignity or detract from their
manhood when they seek honors by honorable means. My
reading convinced me that George Washington was just as
honest and frank with his people as he was with his father
at the time of that historic episode of the hatchet and cherry
tree, and if he wanted an office he did not wait for it to
search for him in the forests or amid the sequestered places
of Mount Vernon.
And while I am on the subject of the reputed Washing
ton idea of "the office seeking the man, not the man the
office/' let me say that my reading of the old chronicles has
also convinced me that the illustrious man, "who was first
in war, first in peace and first in the hearts of his country
men," never advanced the doctrine that no man should
serve more than two terms as President of the United
States, as many believe. It is true that he declined a third
term, but it was simply because he desired to retire to pri
vate life and be relieved of the cares of the nation, which
at his age had become onerous and burdensome.
There is not a word or intimation from him, as far as I
have ever been able to find, to indicate that he even thought it
unwise to elect a man as President for a third term, and I
believe I can safely challenge the production of any proof
to that effect. The idea that a third term would be in the
direction of imperialism, or of a kingly or royal government,
was never advanced by the illustrious patriot and statesman
whose sacred dust reposes on the banks of the Potomac, and
whose memory is revered by the whole nation.
Begging pardon for this diversion, I return to my candi
dacy for the gubernatorial nomination. Such was my pride
in the history, glories, traditions, and memories of my
Mother State that I felt I would rather fill, worthily, her
230 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Executive chair — far rather — than wear any Federal or
royal honor that could be bestowed.
Virginia, named for the illustrious virgin queen upon
whose soil the first lasting English colony was planted, "the
cradle of republican liberty was first rocked," and the strug
gle was ended which gave to us a free country, and the
oppressed of every land a safe refuge; whose Randolph
was president of the first Continental Congress, which ap
proved the opposition of the inhabitants of Massachusetts
Bay to the tyrannical acts of the British Parliament; whose
Henry, by his burning words and flaming eloquence, aroused
the Colonies to strike for their liberties; whose Jefferson
penned the Declaration of Independence, the greatest of all
instruments not the result of inspired wisdom ; whose Wash
ington led the armies of the Revolution to victory; whose
Madison urged and secured the broadest freedom of relig
ious rights; whose Mason, in the Bill of Rights prepared
by him, enunciated the rights that pertain to the people un
der a republican form of government ; whose Monroe estab
lished the "Monroe doctrine," declaring that the Powers
of the Old World must not interfere with the affairs of the
New, and that any attempt on the part of European powers
"to extend their system to any portion of this hemisphere"
would be regarded by the United States as "dangerous to
our peace and safety, and would accordingly be opposed" ;
whose Marshall construed and expounded the Federal Con
stitution, and whose Lee electrified every enlightened clime
with his military genius, pure life and sublime character; a
State that had furnished to the Republic its first, third,
fourth, fifth, and tenth Presidents, and given birth to its
ninth and eleventh; that had prior to 1861 furnished five
Justices of the Supreme Court; twenty cabinet officers,
thirteen ministers plenipotentiaries, and four speakers of
the House of Representatives ; and had donated to the Gen
eral Government the Northwestern Territory, out of which
many States had been carved, now teeming with millions
of people and myriads of products — to be the Governor of
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 231
such a State was to me, her son, an honor above all earthly
honors.
I made no concealment of my desire for the nomination,
nor did I remain inactive. With hosts of friends in every
section of the Commonwealth, I impressed upon them the
importance of activity and organization, and everywhere my
suggestion was met with a hearty response, and in every
county, district, city, and town a most perfect organization
was effected.
I had two competitors for the nomination, Colonel A. S.
Buford, of the city of Richmond, and Major J. Hoge Tyler,
of Pulaski County — both splendid men. Colonel Buford
was a gentleman sans peur et sans reproche, of superior
ability, respected by all the people and beloved by his friends.
He had been president of a railroad system, prominent in
business circles, an earnest Democrat, and potential in party
councils. His personal acquaintance, however, with the
great mass of the voters of the State was quite limited, as he
had never been brought in touch with them on the hustings,
and they only knew him by reputation.
Major Tyler had been a State Senator, was at the time
Lieutenant-Governor, and had done much campaigning and
effective work on the stump. He was a ready and attrac
tive speaker, full of humor, affable and pleasing in manner,
and an excellent "mixer on the court-green." His friends
were very fond of him, and he had few, if any, personal
enemies.
The contest was spirited, but conducted on a high plane,
nothing occurring worthy of note to engender bad feeling
or cause complaint.
The convention met in the city of Richmond in August;
the money question was just coming to the front; Colonel
Buford and I were opposed to the radical doctrine of free
silver, while Major Tyler was an advocate of it. A resolu
tion was offered by the friends of Major Tyler declaring in
favor of the free and unlimited coinage of the white metal,
but it was defeated by an overwhelming vote. The conven
tion consisted of 1604 delegates — the basis of representa-
232 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
tion being one delegate to every one hundred Democratic
voters or fractional part thereof over fifty in every county
and city.
I was nominated on the first ballot, receiving 1201 votes
I think. I was put in nomination by Honorable William
F. Rhea, afterwards a member of Congress, who aroused in
tense enthusiasm among my friends, and tended in large
measure to secure for me the very heavy vote I received. A
copy of this speech I have preserved and shall bequeath it
to my children as a proud memento of my political life.
I would be glad indeed to mention the names of many of
my friends who were prominent in my organization, and
whose indefatigable work brought me such a signal victory ;
but the list would be too long, and besides I might omit
some most worthy of mention, and be regarded as unjustly
discriminating. I must, however, speak of J. Frank East,
the chairman, and E. L. C. Scott and Joseph T. Lawless,
secretaries. Their work was simply superb; it could not
have been excelled.
After I was nominated I entered upon my canvass, to
which I confined myself as closely as my Congressional du
ties would permit. Populism had secured a foothold in
Virginia — the Readjuster party had ceased to exist, and the
Republican leaders had declared their purpose not to put a
ticket in the field, so the Populist party nominated a full
ticket, placing at its head Captain Edmund Cooke, a very
estimable citizen of Cumberland County. A platform was
adopted declaring for the free and unlimited coinage of sil
ver, and all the fallacies of Populism. All the speakers who
could be mustered took the stump, and Jerry Simpson, Lafe
Pence, Kerr, and others of like ilk and kind were imported
into the State. They attempted to effect a coalition with
the Republicans, but they succeeded only partially — many
of the more prominent Republicans supporting me.
The Democrats had in the Populist opposition an un
known strength ; they could not tell what inroads Populism
might make, hence they were vigilant and active ; in fact, at
one time they were alarmed, which insured activity. The
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL, CHAIR 233
result, however, was never doubtful in my mind, but I did
not expect as large a majority as I received, which was
46,701.
The utter ignorance of some of the supporters of free sil
ver was amazing. Some of them conceived the idea that
free silver meant that silver money was to be distributed free
for a season, so as to increase the volume of the currency
and relieve the people. Others that "16 to i" meant that
for every gold dollar a man could produce he would receive
from the Government sixteen silver dollars, and that every
silver dollar would have the purchasing power of a gold
dollar. Of course, these people were of the ignorant class.
I resigned my seat in Congress shortly after my election,
and was inaugurated as Governor on the first day of Jan
uary, 1894, for the constitutional term of four years.
The ceremonies took place from the front portico of Vir
ginia's venerable Capitol, in the presence of an immense con
course of people; they were opened with prayer by that dis
tinguished and idolized pastor of the Second Presbyterian
Church of Rkhmond, Rev. Moses D. Hoge, D. D., who had
for fifty consecutive years filled the pulpit of that church;
whose fame as a pulpit orator and versatile speaker, not
only filled this land, but extended across the vasty deep —
a godly, saintly man, and he was always selected to officiate
on important occasions ; the oath was administered by Hon
orable L. L. Lewis, president of the Court of Appeals of
Virginia, and who, though a Republican in politics, had
then, as he has now, the supreme respect of all classes for
his legal learning, just judgment, and exalted character.
I had now reached the zenith of my political ambition. I
was Governor of Virginia, and would not have exchanged
positions with him who wielded the sceptre of empire. I
would not have laid aside the simple title "Governor of the
Commonwealth of Virginia" to receive a kingly crown.
My title had come to me by the free voice of the sovereign
people of my native State ; it had not come through hered
ity of family or blood; it had not descended to me as the
eldest son of a dead or dethroned ruler nor by revolution or
234 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
violence, but had been bestowed by the untrammeled will of
a free people, in days of peace and tranquillity. It had been
conferred upon me by the same process that made Henry
and Monroe the Chief Executives of Virginia in the early
days of her statehood.
I trust I have not created the impression that my elevation
had made me vain-glorious, or filled me with conceit, for
surely it had done neither. I was gratified to know that
my people had declared me worthy of such an honor, but the
feeling that I might not measure up to the standard of effi
ciency and discharge my duties in an acceptable manner im
pressed me deeply, and as I stood by the side of Dr. Hoge
on the portico of the Governor's Mansion, reviewing a col
umn of volunteer militia that was passing, I said : "Doc
tor, the desire to be Governor has long been in my bosom,
but now that my ambition has been gratified, I feel, as I
never felt before, how weighty are the responsibilities the
position imposes. I am really depressed." He replied :
"Act always as you think right ; keep your conscience clean ;
pray God to direct you, and all will be well."
During my four years I had many things to perplex and
trouble me, but the words of that man of God would always
come to my relief and encourage me. My administration
did not run its course like a smooth, unruffled current. For
several years, in fact from the close of the war, mob violence
had frequently occurred, and lynchings had been numerous,
and the spirit had growrn to such an extent that during the
four years just previous to the beginning of my term twen
ty-seven men had met their deaths at the hands of mobs.
In my inaugural address I said : "I shall see that the
laws are rigidly enforced in all respects, and that good
order prevail throughout the limits of the Commonwealth ;
if riot or disorder should occur, whether in the crowded city
or rural district, and the local authorities are unequal to
the task of quickly suppressing it, no time will be lost by
me, as the Executive Officer, in using the power of the Com
monwealth to restore the supremacy of the law, let it cost
what it may in blood or money."
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 235
In my first regular message to the General Assembly I
used this language:
With pain and mortification I bring to your attention the frequent
taking of human life without the process of law within the borders
of our State. Every such act blunts the sensibilities of the partici
pants and tends to dry up the well-springs of morality and break down
the safeguards of society.
In Virginia lynching cannot be defended ; it must be reprobated.
This Commonwealth has ever boasted of the purity of her judiciary, and
the uprightness of her injuries, yet the number who have suffered
death by the halter without trials or sentences of her tribunals of
justice has created abroad the impression that her judges and juries
cannot be trusted, or that her people are swayed by passion and un
controlled by reason ; that the law is dethroned and lawlessness reigns.
I know there is a crime too horrible to mention, so black as to cry
for vengeance; but even the commission of that crime cannot war
rant a resort to mob violence, for justice with us is certain and will
never miscarry if the law is allowed to take its course.
**********
Our list of executions without the pale of the law is long, including
both races; and while some States have lists of greater length, this
cannot excuse us. We cannot be justified in the sight of God or man
by pleading that some other people are worse than ourselves.
I invoke with emphasis the exercise of your power in stamping out
the spirit which is bringing reproach upon the honored name of this
Commonwealth. Christianity demands it ; public morality requires it ;
popular sentiment exacts it.
The first two years of my administration passed without
a lynching; but the utmost vigilance and free use of the
military were demanded to prevent it. The entire cost of
the military during the two years was less than two cents
on each one thousand dollars of the taxable values of the
State. A small sum indeed to suppress the spirit of mob-
ocracy and preserve law and order.
During the last two years of my term I was not so fortu
nate, for one white and two colored men suffered death
without due process of law. I had no warning of impend
ing danger, and had no opportunity to take steps to prevent
the act of the mob in either case. While I regretted, of
course, when my term closed that I could not look back over
the four years unstained by a lynching, still I was gratified
that the number was so small, as compared with previous
years, and that T had broken down almost entirely the spirit
236 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
of lynching that had prevailed to an alarming extent in the
State so long.
In the spring of 1895 a dangerous condition of affairs
sprang up in the Pocahontas coal mining region of the
State.
The Virginia and West Virginia mines were located close
to each other and ran almost to the line between the States
on either side. A strike, involving five or six thousand
miners, occurred in the West Virginia mines, but the Vir
ginia miners had no grievance, refused to join the strikers
and continued to work. The strikers were determined that
the Virginia miners should not continue to mine, and they
were preparing to use force, if necessary, to carry out their
purpose. I was informed of the condition of affairs, and
I determined that every Virginia miner who wanted to
work should be protected if it took all the military power of
the State. I believed that a fundamental principle of gov
ernment was involved; that it was the duty of Virginia's
Executive to preserve the personal liberty of every citizen ;
that every man had the right to stop working if dissatisfied
with his wages, and no man or set of men should compel
him to continue. On the other hand, no man should by
force, threat, or menace be compelled to withdraw from
work ; that to deprive a citizen of his right to labor and earn
a livelihood was to rob him of that which was guaranteed to
him under the organic law of this land. I maintained
further that it was the duty of Virginia to protect all prop
erty alike, regardless of its character ; that railroads, mines,
factories, and industrial enterprises were as much entitled
to protection from unlawful interference as any other spe
cies of property.
With a fixed purpose to preserve order, uphold the
law, protect property rights and the right of Virginia
miners to continue their labor in the mines, if they so de
sired, I ordered a military force, under Major Simons, to the
scene of the trouble, sufficiently large to overawe the law
less, as I hoped, if not strong enough to cope successfully
with any outbreak.
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 237
The presence of the soldiers had the effect I had hoped
for; it prevented any violent demonstration upon the part
of the strikers, but the strike continued and the condition
remained so threatening that a military force was main
tained for ninety days, and until the strike "was declared
off" and the West Virginia strikers returned to their shovels
and picks. As soon as the Virginia miners found that they
were safe from violence or interference they resumed their
work in the mines, and the number grew daily, until the
mining force ran up from 1,100 when the strike commenced
to 2,300 when it closed and the military was withdrawn.
The operation of the Virginia mines during the three
months enabled many Virginia enterprises to keep their
wheels running, and the presence of troops did all this, and
besides protected a great trunk-line railway from threat
ened danger, secured every man in his right to pursue his
daily work without molestation, and infringed upon no per
sonal or property right. No strike of such magnitude had
ever occurred in Virginia or on her border before, and never
before, since the war clouds of 1861-65 passed away, had
military force been under arms more than a week at any one
time.
My course was severely criticised by labor unions, and I
was regarded as an enemy to labor. No more unjust accu
sation could have been made. All my life my sympathies
had been with the laboring classes, for I believed that in
many instances they had been oppressed by giant corpo
rations. But in this instance it was laboring men against
laboring men — the question whether or not one set of
miners who had struck because their wages were not satis
factory should be permitted to coerce another set, whose
wages were satisfactory, to stop work. It was a question
of personal liberty — the right of a man to pursue his voca
tion without hindrance, the supremacy of law and order
over disorder and mob violence.
It was law against tyranny, for "Where law ends, tyr
anny begins." The law prevailed, and "the mob with the
hands of Briareus, but the head of Polyphemus, strong to
238 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
execute, but blind to perceive/' was suppressed ; its madden
ing fury was not allowed to burst forth like a rolling flame ;
it was quenched as it was kindling. It was gratifying to
me to find before long, that the laboring element realized the
injustice that it had done me for my course. It arrived at
the just conclusion that I was a friend of law and order,
not an enemy to the laboring classes.
On another occasion a body of thriftless men, numbering
nearly a thousand, gathered principally from the Pacific and
Northwestern States, known as "Coxey's army," settled
themselves in Virginia on the Potomac, just opposite the
National Capital.
They had come on a "fool's mission" to make certain
demands upon Congress. They prowled about for miles
around in gangs, begging and terrorizing the women of the
section, who were generally left during the daytime without
male protectors. It was necessary to rid the State of these
people, so the sheriff appealed to me for help, and I sent a
small military force to require the "Army" to leave the
State. My orders were obeyed, and the horde of vagrants,
beggars, tramps and cranks recrossed the river, and the
Washington authorities required them to disband and re
turn as best they could to the sections from whence they
had come.
Horse-race gambling in Alexandria County, in close
proximity to the National Capital, had existed to such an
extent as to become a shame and a disgrace to the Common-
\vealth. Pugilists had also made Virginia their place of
meeting, and they had succeeded for some years in fre
quently "pulling off" a fistic encounter, brutal and cruel, de
grading in the extreme, and tending to inculcate in the
minds of the young men that it is better to become a cham
pion prize-fighter than to excel in the mechanic arts, trades,
or professions. It is with pardonable pride, I trust, when
I say that during my administration both horse-race gam
bling and prize-fighting were driven from the State and
forced to seek other climes.
I surely soon realized after the beginning of my incum-
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL 'CHAIR 239
bency that the position of Governor was "no bed of ease/'
and that perplexities thick and fast would come to me.
Under the law of Virginia the pardon power is lodged
directly in the Governor, and it constituted the bane of my
gubernatorial life. Other questions and other duties, how
ever difficult and hard to solve and discharge, were easy
as compared with the question of Executive clemency. My
ear was filled daily with plaintive appeals for pardons, abso
lute or conditional, and for commutations of sentences.
Some of the most affecting scenes occurred in the Executive
Office. Mothers, wives, sisters, and frequently children
would come pleading for clemency for son, husband,
brother or father over whom hung the stern sentence of
confinement in the State penitentiary, sometimes of death.
My experience was no doubt the experience of every Gov
ernor clothed with the power to pardon or commute. In
my last general message to the legislature, in referring to
this gubernatorial prerogative, I said :
I have been most sorely tried. The Executive must be exceedingly
cautious so as to guard against imposition ; at the same time, he must
take care not to allow his suspicions to make him deaf to a worthy
plea. He should have a heart to feel for another's woes, yet not so
tender as to lead him to set aside the law's stern decree upon mere
grounds of sympathy or the promptings of a maudlin sentimentality. In
the exercise of this executive prerogative I have been guided by a
desire to season justice with mercy when it could be done without
danger to the interests of society. In all cases of convicts stricken with
disease beyond hope of recovery and with death fast approaching I have
felt that humanity demanded their discharge, that they might end their
days among kindred bound to them by ties that even the disgrace of the
prison garb could not sunder. In cases of youthful convicts I have
frequently extended clemency, satisfied that continued confinement
would harden them in crime, while with their experience as a warn
ing, pardons might encourage them and lead them to reform. In some
instances I have regarded the punishments as excessive, and I have not
hesitated to commute the sentences. It may be thought by some that I
have exercised the pardoning power too freely. If I have made mis
takes, they have been on the side of mercy, which "more becomes a
magistrate than too stern justice."
During my term of four years I granted two hundred and
twenty-four absolute pardons, seventy-eight conditional
pardons, and eighty-seven commutations.
240 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Some of these cases were unique, and I read the facts
with the same avidity I had read the plots of many a tragic
novel, and of course with far more interest and strain upon
my faculties and nervous system, for it was serious reality,
and not mere fiction ; the question of freedom or imprison
ment, or life or death was involved in each case, and the
one or the other depended upon the decision of my fallible
mind. As I look back over those days of anxious study I
recall some instances that should be recorded in these remi
niscences. In one of the southwestern counties a man was
convicted of the brutal murder of his wife in the presence of
little children, the fruits of the marital union. The details
were too horrible and blood curdling to perpetuate, and I
shall not give them. The Court of Appeals of Virginia
sustained the judgment of the trial court, and the day of
execution was duly fixed. Perhaps a month before the
sentence of the law was to be enforced a numerously-signed
petition was presented to me "to save the condemned man
from the halter," upon the ground that he was at the time
of the commission of the deed mentally unbalanced and was
at the date of the petition a physical and mental wreck;
that "it would be a horrible thing to send a demented man
to the scaffold."
Many of his acts were pointed out to me by the petitioners
as evidences of his insanity when he murdered his defense
less wife, and the petitioners were thoroughly convinced
that if not insane then he was surely insane at the date of
the petition. I considered with great care the first ques
tion presented and came to the conclusion that the acts
which the petitioners regarded as the acts of an insane man
when he took the life of his wife were perfectly consistent
with the idea of sanity. I then took up his condition as
then represented to me, and I believed I could discover evi
dence of feigning. But I was not willing to act upon my
judgment. I had not seen the man; the petitioners had
seen him and their opinions were worthy of weight.
I did not intend to permit a crazy man to be hung. Ac
cordingly I sent the superintendents of three of Virginia's
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 241
Insane Asylums — all of them distinguished in the knowl
edge and treatment of mental diseases — to make an exami
nation of the man and report to me their conclusions. They
made the examination and reported unanimously that the
man was perfectly sane and that he had been simply feign
ing insanity.
Upon the receipt of this report I declined to interfere with
the sentence. When the man, whose name was Nicholas,
was informed that all hope was gone and that he must die,
he threw aside his feigning, and not only admitted the wil
ful murder of his wife, but confessed, as I was informed,
that he had previously committed two other murders. It is
a most remarkable fact that he had deceived his jailer, the
sheriff of the county, the clerk of the court, doctors, law
yers, and hundreds who had seen him in his prison cell. He
had been a consummate actor, but he did not succeed in
cheating the gallows of its own.
In another instance, however, the shammer succeeded in
liberating himself from the walls of the penitentiary through
an absolute pardon. He had been tried three times upon
a charge of murder; the first trial resulted in a verdict of
murder in the first degree, which was set aside by the court
upon some technicality; at the second trial there was a
hung jury; at the third calling of the case there was a com
promise verdict of six years in the penitentiary. About
three months after his term of imprisonment commenced
his friends represented to me that he had consumption and
that he would soon die if continued in prison, and asked for
his pardon. I declined. Some months thereafter they
came back with an earnest plea for clemency, upon the
ground that his disease had made rapid progress, and that
he could not survive much longer. I declined again to in
terfere with the sentence, but I sent for the prison physi
cian and inquired of him as to the man's condition; the
physician reported that his condition was very bad. I gave
directions to the physician to report to me from time to
time whether he was getting better or worse, and every re
port was "condition worse."
16
242 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Finally, after he had served about twenty months of his
sentence, a minister of the Gospel came to the Executive
Office and told me that the man "was bound to die; that it
was only a matter of a few days; that he had just admin
istered the death sacrament to him and never expected to
see him alive again." I sent for the physician and superin
tendent and they gave me a most distressing account of the
convict's condition.
I determined to act, and made the following endorsement
on his papers : "This man is far gone with consumption ;
has had several hemorrhages, and has been in the hospital
nearly all the time he has been in prison. The physician
thinks he is liable to die at any time from a hemorrhage.
Case under consideration for months with doubts as to the
propriety of clemency. The condition of the man is such
that I think humanity calls for a pardon."
He was given his liberty that he might die in the bosom
of his family and friends. In less than three months he
was in Richmond, dressed in the height of fashion, stopping
at the famous Jefferson Hotel, with the flush of health upon
his cheek. He had played his part to perfection, and se
cured his pardon and release from prison by most remark
able shamming. I think he is still living.
I was impressed with the direful effects of the morphine
habit. The use of this drug has sent many to prison. I
have known men of the highest respectability, and women
of the highest culture, fall into the deepest depths of degra
dation and shame, and be placed behind bars, by becoming
slaves to this drug.
I recall numerous instances of petitions for pardons or
commutations of sentences of this unfortunate class. On
a certain occasion a lady bearing every evidence of refine
ment, but most poorly clad, came to the Executive Office,
and with intense emotion plead for her husband, who was
under sentence for forgery. The story she told was most
affecting. Her husband had been a prosperous man and
his family comfortable and contented. He became ill
and his physician administered morphine, and this worthy
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 243
man and good citizen became "a morphine fiend/' and
lower and lower he fell, until he would resort to any means,
however base, to procure the drug, ending finally by forging
an order for ten dollars, all of which he expended in the
purchase of the narcotic. He had previously sold nearly
everything in his home, and pauperized his family.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, this refined and
once happy wife implored me to save her husband from the
penitentiary, and save her and her children from the dis
grace which would attend them through life of being the
wife and children of a man who had worn a convict's stripes.
I was touched to the very quick by her sad story and tearful
appeal, and told her I would inquire into the case immedi
ately, and she could come back and see me again in a few
days.
The man was still in jail, and I ordered his retention
there until I directed otherwise. I found her story to be
literally true, and I awaited her return. She soon came
and I relieved her anxious suspense as quickly as possible
by telling her that she and her children should be saved from
the shame she so much deplored; but I thought her hus
band should be confined sufficiently long to break him from
the morphine habit if possible; that I would commute his
sentence to four months in jail — he should not go to the
penitentiary.
Never shall I forget the light and hope that came into her
face. Her gratitude was expressed in the most beautiful
language. Twelve months, or perhaps a little more, rolled
round, when I received a neatly-written note from her tell
ing me that she was again happy, and asking me to let her
call and see me. Her request was granted. She came.
In appearance she was completely changed. She was well
dressed, her face was as bright as a sun ray, and her eye
beamed with happiness. She told me that the four month's
confinement had cured her husband of the horrible habit;
that he was "a man again," friends had helped him to start
in business, he was doing well, and they were happy in each
other's love.
244 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
No act of my official life has given me more pleasure than
the saving of this wife and her children from the shame
that would have attended them through life, the reforming
of the unfortunate husband, and bringing happiness into
the desolate home.
In the second year of my administration a petition for the
pardon of a man who had been convicted of murder, by
lying in wait, and sentenced to be hung, to whom a new
trial had been refused by the appellate court, and sentence
of death again pronounced upon him; who had been res
cued just before he was to be hung, by a large body of citi
zens, many of them of the highest standing, by battering
down the jail doors and taking him from his cell in spite of
his protest ; who was then induced by his friends to flee to
a distant Western State, where he lived under an assumed
name for several years, greatly respected by the people;
whose whereabouts were finally discovered and a requisi
tion made for him ; who was arrested and brought back and
sentenced a third time, and his sentence then commuted by
my predecessor to life imprisonment.
He had borne a most excellent character, and his neigh
bors believed he was innocent of the charge and that his
conviction was unjust and the result of perjured testimony
and a weak defense. I had the case under consideration for
many months, and finally reached the conclusion that he
should be set free. He had been in the penitentiary for
four years, and his conduct had been exceptionally good.
For some time after the petition for his pardon was pre
sented I received a letter every week or two from his wife,
pleading for his pardon ; but some weeks before he walked
through the prison gate, a free man, her letters ceased to
come.
With the fond expectation of joining his wife and child
ren he took his departure for his home. But when he
reached home he found neither wife nor children. She,
who had written so many letters, pleading for his pardon,
declaring "that she could not live without him," had a short
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 245
time before his release taken unto herself another spouse,
and with him and her children had moved into Tennessee.
Three times had this man stood up in the halls of justice
and heard the awful question propounded, "What have you
to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon
you according to law?" Three times had he heard the
judge's awful words, "It is the judgment of this court that
you be now remanded to the jail from whence you came,
and there confined until Friday (the day fixed), when you
will be taken therefrom between sunrise and sunset by the
sheriff and hanged by the neck until you be dead. May the
Lord have mercy on your soul." He always declared he
was innocent; he protested against being released from
jail, and only fled to another State and changed his name
in obedience to the wishes of his friends. He always said,
as I was told after his pardon, that God knew he was inno
cent, and in His own good time He would give him his
freedom.
In 1885 an incendiary fire occurred in a certain town and
a number of buildings, including several dwellings, were
burned.
A colored man was arrested for the crime. He con
fessed and implicated two colored women — one of them
proved an alibi and was acquitted; the other was convicted
upon the unsupported testimony of the man, though there
was evidence surely as reliable as his to the contrary. The
court refused to set aside the verdict, though the Common
wealth's Attorney asked that it be done.
The woman was taken to the penitentiary to serve a sen
tence of eighteen years. The man was hung and on the
scaffold he stated that both women were innocent, that he
only was guilty.
This convicted woman remained in the penitentiary until
1897, twelve years, when my attention was called to her
case. I made inquiry and found the facts to be as I have
stated them. I promptly pardoned her, but she had passed
twelve years of her life in prison under a false charge and
an unrighteous judgment. She was a negro and friendless,
246 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and while the injustice of her sentence was generally recog
nized, efforts in her behalf were neglected and the matter
finally passed out of the minds of the thousands of just men
in the community.
There were two petitions presented to me for commuta
tions based upon grounds absolutely unique.
In the first case a man had been killed by one of two
burglars. The one first tried was convicted and sentenced
to the penitentiary for a term of years. The other was con
victed and sentenced to be hung, and a petition was pre
sented for a commutation of his sentence to confinement in
the penitentiary for a term of equal length as in the case
of the one first tried, upon the ground that it was not proved
which fired the fatal shot, and they should be punished
alike.
I refused to commute, stating that they were both princi
pals; that it made no difference which fired the shot that
killed ; they were engaged in a common purpose and equally
guilty, and both should have been hung; and because the
first jury did not do its duty, was no reason why the just
verdict of the second jury should be set aside ; because full
justice was not meted out in the first case, was no reason
why it should not be in the latter.
A powerful negro, after following a man around for
hours, threatening to kill him, finally struck him a blow on
the head with a club, which crushed his skull and caused
his death in a few hours. It was stated in the petition that
the murdered man had a thinner skull than most men : that
if his skull had been of the usual thickness it was most likely
the blow would not have caused death. For that reason
clemency was urged.
I held that the negro when he struck the blow intended
to kill, as indicated by his threats, and he had killed. That
a man to whom God had given a thin skull should not be
required to go around with a steel plate on his head to pre
vent being killed by a blow which would probably not kill
a man with a thicker skull. The weapon used was such as
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 247
to inflict serious injury at least to a thick skull, and death to
a man with a thin skull, if used with force.
One day the superintendent of the penitentiary came into
the Executive Office and handed me a letter from a convict,
confirmed all that the letter stated, as facts, and recom
mended a pardon.
The letter set forth that he, the convict, had been four
times sent to the penitentiary from three different counties,
each time for grand larceny, burglary, or housebreaking -f
that he had served thirty years in all within the prison walls ;
that he was old and decrepit and nearly blind ; that he was
a reformed man, but if still evil-disposed he was too weak
and too nearly blind to commit crime, and that he longed to
be free and spend his few remaining days outside of the
penitentiary; that he had friends who would give him a
home and take care of him.
I pardoned him. In less than sixty days he was in the
city jail under conviction of house-breaking. He was a
born thief. His long incarceration had wrought no change
in him. His reformation was only skin deep, and though
old, decrepit and partially blind, the instinct to steal was as
strong as ever in him. He could no more change his nature
than a leopard its spots.
Virginia's wealth in her waters could hardly be overesti
mated. She has 201,216 acres of natural oyster beds, rocks
and shoals, and 400,000 acres of planting ground of "barren
area disposable by the Commonwealth for the propagation
of oysters." There was for years a controversy between
Virginia and Maryland as to the line between the States in
the Tangier and Pocomoke Sounds, which are perhaps the
finest natural oyster grounds known.
This controversy was ultimately settled by a commission,
and Virginia's contention was sustained. Lines were run,
stakes were driven, and buoys were set, clearly indicating
the boundary between the States.
The greater contention was over the question whether
there was a Pocomoke River only or a Pocomoke River and
a Pocomoke Sound. Maryland's contention was the first,
248 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Virginia's contention the latter. If there was no sound,
Virginia would lose what was termed Pocomoke Sound and
Maryland would gain and hold that rich oyster ground.
The commission, however, decided there was a river and a
sound, and that the river was in Maryland and the sound in
Virginia, just as Virginia had contended. Old Colonial
records were examined and musty books were consulted, re
sulting in a great victory for the old Commonwealth. If
there had been an adverse decision, Virginia would have
lost millions of her present prospective wealth, for she has
a single piece of 1,200 acres of natural oyster ground, esti
mated to be worth intrinsically six million dollars.
The legislature of Virginia had been carefully looking
after the State's interests in her waters, and had passed
acts forbidding the use of dredges on her natural beds,
which were very destructive of them. The Maryland beds
had been greatly injured by the failure of her legislature to
take proper care of them. Virginia's grounds were there
fore rich and her citizens with their tongs and boats reaped
abundant harvests each season. Maryland's grounds were
poor, and her tongers had meagre returns for their labor.
Our neighbors yearned for the productive grounds of the
Tangier and Pocomoke, but they were the preserves of the
Virginians, and a non-resident brought himself under the
ban of Virginia's statute the moment he entered her waters
and threw out his dredge or put down his tongs. But fre
quently the temptation was so great that when our guard-
boats were out of the way, or under the cover of the night,
the Marylanders would slip across the line and "steal, take,
and carry away the property of the Commonwealth." Only
a few days after my term as Governor commenced I was in
formed that "a large band of Maryland pirates" were and
had been depredating upon the oyster beds of Tangier.
The police steamer was ordered forthwith to repair to the
scene and capture the "pirates" and destroy the boats.
Upon the arrival of the steamer, which was after dark, quite
an engagement took place between her and the "pirates,"
who were in great numbers; but two large piratical oyster
FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 249
boats were captured, each loaded to the water's edge with
choice bivalves. After this the legislature strengthened
"Virginia's Oyster Navy," and incursions have been less
frequent since.
All this may be regarded by some as " a much-a-do about
nothing." But this is not so. Virginia's wealth in her
waters, — in her oyster and fishing grounds, — as I have said,
is beyond computation.
When I was a mere boy I heard Henry A. Wise, in his
remarkable Anti-Know-Nothing Campaign, declare that no
brain could approximate the value of Virginia's oyster
grounds and fisheries. He lived in the very section of
which I have been writing. He also declared that by
proper management these properties could be made to yield
a sufficient revenue to pay the expenses of Virginia's State
government and the interest on her State debt. Gov
ernor Wise's opponents styled his statements "Wise's Oys
ter Fundum Views." While Governor Wise's opinion
was perhaps too optimistic, I am sure a very large revenue
could now be raised on the lines he marked out. Whether
it will ever be done is a question no man can answer. The
subject is worthy of the most careful consideration, and the
legislator who can devise a plan which will enable the State
to reap a proper revenue from her valuable properties will
write his name among her chief benefactors.
CHAPTER VI
EVENTS OF FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES.
My First Seat in Congress Obtained Through a Contest — Committee
Assignments — The Aesthetic Committee — The Portrait of Dolly
Madison— The McGarrahan Claim— The "Eads Bill"— Speaker
Carlisle's Contest — Mr. McKinley Loses his Seat on a Contest —
The Fifty-first Congress Becomes Republican — The Stormiest Con
gress in the History of the Government — Speaker Reed's Classifica
tion of Members — A Clash with the Speaker — Mr- McKinley Pours
Oil upon the Troubled Waters — We Gain our Point, but to no
Purpose — Filibustering to Kill a Force Bill — "Second Democratic
Secession from the Union" — My Estimate of Thomas B. Reed.
As I have stated, I obtained my first seat in Congress
through a contest. I had been defeated by a small majority
by fraudulent votes, and I was compelled to ask for justice
at the hands of Congress. I got it, and was seated in the
Forty-eighth Congress, just in time to cast my first vote for
the Morrison Tariff Bill. My Congressional services em
braced the Forty-eighth, Forty-ninth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first,
Fifty-second, and nearly all of the Fifty-third Congresses,
resigning in December, 1893, to assume the duties of Gov
ernor. I shall endeavor to present with a truthful pen
many of the most important and interesting occurrences
during my twelve years' service, many exciting, some thrill
ing, some amusing.
In the Forty-eighth and Forty-ninth Congresses I was
a member of the Committee on Commerce; in the Forty-
ninth I was Chairman of the Committee on Mines and Min
ing. In the Forty-ninth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first, Fifty-second,
and Fifty-third I was a member of the Committee on Elec
tions, and of the Library Committee, and the last two terms
Chairman of the Committee on Elections.
To the Library Committee were referred all bills for the
erection of monuments and statues, the purchase of paint
ings and pictures, and bills which could not be properly re
ferred to any other standing committee. It was what the
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 251
members of the House called the "Aesthetic Committee."
Why I was appointed on it I never understood, for while I
loved the beautiful in nature and art, yet I knew nothing of
the theory or philosophy of taste, or the science of the ex
pression and embodiment of beauty by art, which is, I be
lieve, the definition of the word "aesthetics." The commit
tee consisted of only three members, and when a painting
was presented for our consideration and critical examina
tion I felt how farcial was the idea of submitting its merits
to me. Still, strange to say, my judgment in several in
stances was sustained by connoisseurs after the paintings
were purchased; they had simply pleased my eye and I
liked them; to my uneducated eye they were all right, but
I felt all the time that no weight should be given to my
opinion ; at least, my judgment should be taken cum grano
salis, in fact with many grains of doubt.
At one time there was a strong effort made to establish a
National flower, and this brought before us many aestheti-
cians from different sections of the country, and each was
an enthusiast for his choice, and at great length frequently
the beauty and grandeur of some flower would be presented
with flowery eloquence. There were, however, only four
flowers that had many advocates — they were the hollyhock,
goldenrod, sunflower, and pansy.
The strong and sturdy stock and the exquisite tinting of
the hollyhock were urged with great earnestness; the
stately goldenrod, with its showy heads "waving like golden
wands, making gay the whole land," was pressed with
vigor; the sunflower was presented in a style so attractive
as almost to make us blush with shame that we had always
regarded it as only suitable for a corner of the kitchen
garden; and the pansy, with its perennial growth, sepals,
petals, and stamens was descanted upon at great length, and
its advocates not only insisted that it should be made the
National flower, but that a pansy with as many leaves as
there were States in the Union should be placed upon our
National flag, with a star in each leaf, representing a State.
The "Aesthetic Committee" listened patiently to all these
252 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
aestheticians, who were really entertaining; but the Com
mittee took no action, concluding that the Republic had
lived long and prospered without a National flower, and
would continue to grow and expand without it, and that as
to the suggestion of changing the flag of the fathers that
had floated so long wreathed in glories, it would be a sacri
lege to alter it by putting a pansy or any other flower upon
it. So all the flowery advocates took their departure, feel
ing that the members of the committee lacked the neces
sary qualifications of their important positions.
Among the paintings which were purchased by the Gov
ernment upon the recommendation of the Library Commit
tee was the portrait of Dolly Madison, the beautiful and
charming wife of President Madison. It was life-size, and
represented her standing, in full evening dress, ready for a
reception occasion. Her refined and lovely features, exquis
ite figure, graceful poise, and elegant costume made the
painting worthy of a place in any gallery of the highest
works of art. I think it adorns the walls of the White
House. It is well known she was a famous beauty, and that
she had a charm of manner never excelled, if equaled, by
any mistress of the Presidential Mansion before or since
Madison's administration.
I remember I took an old country constituent of mine to
the Corcoran Art Gallery where this portrait was on exhi
bition. The display of paintings seemed to daze him; for
some minutes he stood speechless, gazing about the hall.
I then said, "I want you to look around and tell me which
of all these paintings you like best." We started on our
circuit; every now and then he would say, "I like this pic
ture," or "this is mighty fine," or "this is very pretty";
finally we reached "Dolly" Madison. Instantly he ex
claimed : "My heavens, what queen is this ? Is that a
natural picture? Did as pretty a woman ever live?" I
told him she was not a queen, but an American woman, and
that it was a true likeness of her.
He said, "Are these paintings for sale?" I asked
why? "Because I want to buy this picture, and I will
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 253
give as much for it as I gave for the finest horse on my
farm — a full thoroughbred fellow, and I will pay the money
right down." I said, "What did you give for your horse?"
He replied, "Two hundred dollars." I then told him that
the portrait was for sale, but it would take at least half of
his fine large Shenandoah Valley farm to buy it.
With a look of surprise he said: "Why, you don't say
so. Well, I would rather have it than all the pictures I
ever saw, but I can't give that much for it." I then told
him whose portrait it was, and he informed me that when
he was a boy his father visited Washington, and on his re
turn home told his mother he had seen the wife of President
Madison, and he thought she must be the prettiest woman
in the world.
It was with difficulty I succeeded in getting the old gen
tleman from the gallery, and he informed me afterwards
that the next day he returned to the gallery "to get a parting
look at 'Dolly' Madison."
My service as chairman of the Committee on Mines and
Mining was pleasant and instructive. I learned much min
ing law, and was highly entertained by the discussion of
bills in connection with mining matters and claims.
The most interesting and important bill before the com
mittee was the bill relating to the celebrated McGarrahan
claim, that had been before many previous Congresses. I
had read of it for years, and somehow I had been unfavor
ably impressed with the claim, and was inclined to treat the
bill as one without real merit, and to regard the claimant as
visionary and persistent and possibly seeking to recover
what he knew did not justly belong to him. Still it was
my duty to hear him and to act the part of an unbiased
judge.
His counsel was Hon. Eppa Hunton, a former Congress
man from the Eighth Virginia district, a member of the
commission appointed to decide the Presidential election of
1876 (Hayes and Tilden) and afterwards a member of the
United States Senate. The fact that General Hunton was
the counsel in the case impressed me favorably, for 1 had
254 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
confidence in his judgment and absolute faith in his integ
rity. I knew that the General had been deceived, or there
were merits in the claim of McGarrahan.
The bill was taken up before a full committee, and the
opening argument was made by General Hunton. His ef
fort was powerful. The facts were laid before the commit
tee and everything connected with the claim was presented
by the able counsel in his usual frank and candid manner,
sustaining, I thought, every statement he made by record
evidence.
The facts succinctly stated were substantially these.
McGarrahan, an Irishman, was a man far advanced in
years. When he was a young man he was attracted to
California, where he went into business. He soon pur
chased a Mexican land grant covering many acres, which
was regarded as of small value at the time. He was as
sured that his title was good under the Treaty of Gaudalupe
Hidalgo between the United States and Mexico, in which
the United States obligated herself to respect and protect all
grants of land previously made by Mexico. In the course
of time some prospectors discovered valuable silver mines
upon McGarrahan's grant, and a mining company was or
ganized, took possession of the mines, and then secured a
grant of the lands from the United States. Many black
spots appeared in the mode and manner in which the grant
was obtained from the United States, and they were pointed
out by General Hunton with the boldness and courage that
had ever characterized him in the vindication of what he
believed to be right.
McGarrahan instituted proceedings to recover his land
and to hold this Government to its treaty obligation, but his
opponents were strong and powerful — they were coining
money from the mines, and could afford to fight and fight
with desperation ; McGarrahan was single-handed and
with little means ; the Government gave him no aid, in fact
gave him the cold-shoulder.
After exhausting without avail all court remedies, he ap
pealed to Congress, and for years and years he was seeking
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 255
justice; but though several reports were made in his favor,
he never succeeded in securing the passage of a relief meas
ure, and some years ago, while still fighting and hopeful,
but worn out and exhausted, he died suddenly in the Capital
of the Nation, to whose authorities he had been appealing
for justice from vigorous young manhood to decrepit old
age.
General Hunton, his able and faithful counsel, still lives,
ripe in years, vigorous in intellect, and bedecked with mili
tary and civic honors.
I found my service on the Committee on Commerce
agreeable. It had many interesting bills before it. Its
chairman was John H. Reagan, of Texas, the Postmaster-
General of the Confederacy, and now, at the age of eighty-
five years, the sole surviving member of the Cabinet of
President Jefferson Davis. When chairman of the commit
tee he was possessed of all his mental faculties, and was an
•exceedingly strong man. Among the members of the com
mittee were Charles F. Crisp, of Georgia, whom I shall no
tice more particularly later ; William B. Bynum, of Indiana,
who attained considerable prominence in the House, and
Martin L. Clardy, of Missouri, a man of decided ability and
force of character.
Perhaps the most interesting subject before this com
mittee during my membership of it was the Isthmus of Pan
ama Ship Railway Bill, known as "The Ead's Bill." It
attracted widespread attention, and the discussions before
the Committee were animated and instructive.
The bill provided for the building by the Government of
a huge railway across the Isthmus of Panama, of sufficient
dimensions and strength to carry the largest vessels of com
merce and war vessels from ocean to ocean, a distance of
more than a hundred miles. Powerful machinery was to be
used in lifting vessels from the waters of one ocean and
placing them upon railway trucks and wheels, and then
lifting them from the trucks and wheels and setting them
afloat in the waters of the other ocean.
256 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Many believed the scheme was feasible and would be of
inestimable value to commerce, and to the United States
Government in time of war; others regarded it as vision
ary and impracticable; that it would be hardly possible to
construct a railway of sufficient strength to transport such
immense vessels, and that accidents were liable to occur and
leave a vessel high and dry on land many miles from water
with no means of relief, and that the owners of vessels
would not trust them on trucks and wheels on a tour over
land for a distance of a hundred miles or more ; that the ex
pense of constructing the railway would be enormous, for
the road bed would have to be as firm as the rock of Gibral
tar, and the nature of the soil was treacherous in the ex
treme. Behind the bill was a powerful lobby, and mem
bers had it sounded in their ears on all occasions; a
member remarking that he had it dished out to him at
breakfast, dinner, and supper for weeks, ad nauseam.
Before any decisive action was taken upon the bill the
projector of the enterprise died, and interest in it instantly
waned, and before long the bill was buried in the Con
gressional vault of dead schemes.
In the Forty-ninth Congress the seat of Hon. John G.
Carlisle, who had been elected by the Democrats Speaker of
the House of Representatives for his second term, was con
tested.
His district was overwhelmingly Democratic; he had
been renominated by acclamation ; the Republicans made no
nomination, and his party, believing there would be no op
position to him, quietly "slept on their oars." On the eve
of the election a labor candidate was put in the field, and
the Republicans and labor men, who had been quietly or
ganizing, turned out in force, while the Democrats, particu
larly in the rural sections of the district, not dreaming of
opposition, remained at home in immense numbers. The
result was that Carlisle won only "by the skin of his teeth,"
and his majority was so small as to induce the defeated
labor candidate to contest his seat.
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 257
With this contest on his hands the Speaker declined to
appoint the Committee on Elections, and referred the se
lection of its members to the House. The two parties met
in caucus respectively, and each selected its members — the
Democrats nine, the Republicans six. Absolutely unsolic
ited, and in fact to my surprise, the committee appointed by
the Democratic caucus to make recommendations, in its
report, named me as a member, ranking me second — Crisp
being first.
The caucus adopted the committee's report. Of course I
appreciated beyond measure the honor, for, as is well
known, the committee on Elections is the ranking commit
tee of the House of Representatives. For five terms, or ten
years, I was continued on this committee, and, as stated,
was the chairman of it the last two terms of my Congress
ional service, succeeding Crisp. Every member was a law
yer. When I was first appointed on the committee, and
for several terms thereafter, partisan feeling ran high, and
I regret to say that the committee was not as calm in its
consideration and as judicial in its judgment of cases as it
has since become. The labor was immense; many records
covered as much as twelve hundred pages of closely printed
matter, some of them reaching two or three thousand pages.
Among the ablest members at different times, and men
who distinguished themselves, were Crisp, of Georgia;
Lodge, of Massachusetts, later Senator from his State;
Lockwood, of New York ; Rowell, of Illinois ; Moore, of
Texas; Cobb, of Alabama; Johnston, of South Carolina;
Greenhalz, of Massachusetts, afterwards Governor of that
Commonwealth; Lawson, of Georgia; Painter, of Ken
tucky, and Brown, of Indiana, who succeeded me as chair
man.
Numerous were the contests and variant were the
grounds. From mere irregularities in the conduct of the
election, or in the returns — to stuffing of ballot-boxes, re
ceiving and counting illegal votes, and refusal of legal votes,
intimidating of voters, false swearing, and false returns
and frauds of almost every conceivable kind were alleged in
258 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
the notices of contest, and the most voluminous depositions
in support or denial of the charges were taken, and the
whole dumped before the committee, and then argued by the
attorneys for the contestants and contestees respectively,
often with great force, always with intense vigor. Most of
the contests came from the Southern districts, where the
negro voting population was large, the contestants always
alleging fraud and a conspiracy to deprive "the ebony
brother" of his right of franchise.
But there were some noted cases from Northern and
Western districts, in which the vote of "the ward of the
Nation" cut no figure.
The Carlisle contest gave little trouble, and it was soon
settled and the contestee's right to his seat confirmed with
out the barest suspicion of any wrong.
It has no doubt almost been forgotten that the seat of
William McKinley in the Forty-ninth Congress was con
tested by Jonathan Wallace, and that the man who was
afterwards Governor of Ohio and then became the Presi
dent of the United States, and met his death at the hands
of an anarchistic assassin, and whose death was as deeply
mourned in the South as in the North, lost his seat in that
Congress. But it was simply a question as to the legality
of a certain class of voters that were cast for both candi
dates. The committee held that they were illegal, and in
throwing them out it left a small majority for Wallace, and
McKinley, the leading apostle of "protection," was com
pelled to yield his seat to a Democrat, but to return to the
next succeeding Congress with a majority that could not be
questioned.
It may also have escaped the public memory that James
E. Campbell, of Ohio, afterwards Democratic Governor of
that State, secured a seat in the Forty-ninth Congress at the
end of a successful contest. He contested upon the ground
of the reception of the ballots of persons not qualified to
vote, and a sufficient number of such ballots were found by
the committee to have been cast and counted against him to
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 259
give him a majority, after they were deducted from the
total returned vote of his opponent.
It was a most remarkable coincidence that these two
future Governors of the great State of Ohio should have
been involved in contests — the one losing and being un
seated, the other winning and being seated.
It will be remembered that in the Fifty-first Congress the
tables were turned on the Democrats and the body became
Republican, but by a narrow majority, I think of four or
five votes, and Thomas B. Reed was elected Speaker.
This Congress was the stormiest in the history of the
Government. It was immediately determined by the new
Speaker on the organization that the rules should be
changed, "so that the House could do business," as he lacon
ically expressed it. The idea was to deprive the minority
(the Democrats) of the power to prevent or retard the pass
age of measures by dilatory means and "filibustering."
The Democrats were greatly aroused and excited, for they
anticipated the introduction of radical measures, and par
ticularly a "Force Bill," which, if passed, the Southern
Democrats believed would mean Federal interference with
elections in the South and Federal bayonets at the polls.
The Democrats stood in a solid phalanx against the pro
posed rules; there were also a number of Republicans who
looked with disfavor upon the proposition.
The Speaker, with great astuteness, determined to ascer
tain the names of the disagreeing Republican members, and
convert them, if possible; so he had a careful canvass of
the whole Republican side made, under the following in
structions : Mark opposite the names of opposing members
the letter K (meaning kicker), or H. K. (meaning hard
kicker), or D. H. K. (meaning d hard kicker). The
canvass was made and the result reported to him. Upon
an inspection of the report he found he could not, as matters
stood, risk his rules to the vote of the House. He then
directed the Committee on Elections to get to work and see
if the Republican majority could not be increased by turn
ing Democrats out and seating Republicans in their stead.
260 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
There were very many contests — three from West Virginia
alone, and the committee very promptly took up these cases
and pushed them with energy. In an incredibly short time
two of them, Smith versus Jackson and Atkinson versus
Pendleton, were reported to the House, with the recom
mendation in each that the Democrat be unseated and the
Republican seated.
The case of Smith versus Jackson was called up one Fri
day morning, and the argument ran through that day and
the next until about nine o'clock in the night, when, by pre
vious arrangement among the Democratic members of the
Committee, I took the floor to make the closing speech for
the sitting member, Judge Jackson, and with the under
standing that I was to hold the floor and force an adjourn
ment at midnight, if possible, if not, continue on my feet.
The blood of both sides of the chamber was at more than
fever heat; the Republicans had expressed a determination
to seat the contestant before adjournment, and the Demo
crats were equally determined that the contestee should not
be unseated that night. With no rules, and the House gov
erned by general parliamentary law, my time was unlimited
and there was no power to take the floor from me.
Realizing that I had in all probability a heavy task before
me, after speaking for some time, in order to take a rest and
also to kill time, I called a page and sent the testimony to
the Clerk of the House to be read. It was a volume of sev
eral hundred pages. The Speaker forbade the reading of
the depositions by the Clerk, and they were brought back to
me. I opened the volume and commenced reading: The
Speaker instantly said, "The gentleman from Virginia can
not read that book." I disregarded what he said and con
tinued to read ; the Speaker rapped me to order, but I con
tinued to read and the gavel continued to rap. By this time
the House was in an uproar and like a bedlam ; the Demo
crats were cheering me and the Republicans were yelling
their disapproval of my course.
Finally there was a lull and I said, as near as I can re
call the words: "Mr. Speaker. I have the floor and have
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 26 1
the right to occupy it until I voluntarily yield it. I am dis
cussing the right of the contestee to the seat he occupies in
this august parliamentary body. In order that the members
of this House may vote intelligently upon the merits of this
case, they should know the facts, and I propose to lay the
facts before them from the lips of the witnesses themselves,
making their testimony part of my speech. I am in the ex
ercise of my right, and I intend, Mr. Speaker, to continue to
read this testimony until I conclude it, unless I drop from
exhaustion."
With this announcement of my intention the cheers and
yells again came with greater intensity. I remained on my
feet and continued to read, and the gavel continued to de
scend with giant power.
Finally from about the center of the Republican side a
gentleman arose and waved his hand for order. He was
recognized at once and a calm fell upon the House. In the
most pleasant manner he requested me to suspend for a
moment. This I did, with the understanding that it would
not interfere with my right to the floor. Addressing the
Chair he expressed his surprise at the disorder. Said the
members should not forget who they were or where they
were. That he could very clearly see the purpose of the
"gentleman from Virginia," yet as he had the floor he had
the right to use his time as he saw fit, and to read whatever
he pleased, so he confined himself to the subject before the
House and read what was germane to it. He concluded
by appealing for order. His words had magic effect. This
man was William McKinley.
As soon as he finished speaking, Crisp asked if I would
yield for a motion to adjourn. Of course I yielded, but be
fore the motion was put an agreement was reached to the
effect that I should have an hour and a half to conclude my
remarks on Monday morning, and that a final vote should be
taken not later than six o'clock Monday afternoon.
Then about eleven o'clock the House adjourned, and we
had accomplished our purpose — an idle purpose it is true,
and simply the result of intense partisan feeling. On Mon-
262 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
day morning, in opening my speech, I remarked jocosely
that I presumed I had read enough of the evidence in the
case to enable the House to vote intelligently, and would not
therefore consume valuable time by reading more.
I occupied the time allotted to me; the discussion was
closed by a Republican member of the Committee, the vote
was taken, Judge Jackson was unseated and Smith was
seated, and the Republican majority was increased two
votes.
My course, coupled with some criticism of the Speaker
in my remarks Monday morning, offended him, and for
some davs he treated me coolly, but it passed off and we
became good friends, and continued so to the end of my
Congressional service.
The case of Atkinson versus Pendleton followed imme
diately; Atkinson was seated and a Republican majority of
two more was secured.
Thus the process of reducing the Democratic strength and
increasing the Republican strength was carried on with
rapidity, until the Republican majority had reached a point
where the Speaker felt that he could safely trust his new
rules to a vote of the House, particularly as all the "kickers"
and "hard kickers," and even "d hard kickers," with, I
think, two or three exceptions, had been induced to take the
Speaker's view of matters; so the report of the Committee
on Rules was submitted, and after a long and acrimonious
debate the report was adopted and the new rules enabling
the majority to ride rough-shod at will over the minority
became the law of the House. The terms "The Reed Con
gress" and "Czar Reed" have passed into history.
After the adoption of the new rules the Committee on
Elections proceeded more leisurely, and the next contest
that created much feeling was that of John R. Langston
versus Edward C. Venable, from the Fourth Congressional
district of Virginia.
The contestant was a colored man, though almost white,
highly educated, and intellectually an ornament to his race;
the contestee was a prominent and cultured gentleman, of a
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 263
noted Virginia family, and an excellent Representative.
The Fourth Virginia district had a large majority of col
ored voters, and whenever that was the case our Repub
lican brethren on the committee were disposed to assume
that the district was necessarily a Republican district, and
if a Democrat was elected it was, beyond question, in their
opinion, the result of fraud.
The management of this case on the floor of the House,
in behalf of the contestee, was assigned to me, and while the
Democrats had no hope of retaining the contestee in his
seat, a Force Bill was awaiting consideration, the session
was drawing to a close, and various appropriation bills had
to be passed, so it was determined to use this election case
to prevent the passage of the Force Bill ; that is, to consume
so much time that only enough would be left for the discus
sion and passage of the appropriation bills, thus cutting out
the measure the Southern Democrats and the white people
of the South generally feared so much.
The tactics of preventing a quorum and of making dila
tory motions were resorted to as a means of accomplishing
our purpose. The Democrats remained away from the ses
sions of the House; they went off in groups to unknown
places, where they could not be found by the Republican
sergeant-at-arms when a call of the House was ordered. I
was left as the sole Democratic member on the floor, to
make dilatory motions and consume in various ways as
much time as possible, and raise the question of "no quo
rum."
The Republicans could not muster a quorum, and calls of
the House were frequent ; some of the Democrats who were
loitering about the Capitol would come in, answer to their
names, and then retire, so that when a vote was taken there
would still be "no quorum," and the condition would be the
same as it was before the call ; whenever the roll was called
on a motion I would simply respond to the announcement
of the result by the clerk, "No quorum, Mr. Speaker."
This "marching up the hill and marching down again"
continued for days; a motion to adjourn would be made
264 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and carried sometimes early, sometimes late in the day.
Many Republican members were absent from the city, and
the wires were kept busy with peremptory orders for them
to return to their seats. Finally the Speaker succeeded in
securing a quorum and the vote was taken, and Mr. Venable
was unseated by the vote of every Republican member.
But the Democrats had scored a victory by staving off the
consideration of the Force Bill, and in fact killing it for all
time.
During this struggle two things occurred about which
much was said. One day the Speaker ordered the door used
for members to enter or retire by, which had always
been left unfastened when there was a call of the House, to
be locked ; so that Democrats who entered the hall to answer
to their names could not retire after answering, as they had
been doing. Hon. Constantine Buckley Kilgore, a stalwart
Texas representative, and one of the most genial and popu
lar men in the body, answered to his name on the call, and
immediately went to the door which I have mentioned, but
found it fastened. Turning to the doorkeeper he said,
"What's the matter with this door?" The doorkeeper re
plied, "It is locked; the Speaker directed it to be locked."
"Locked," said Kilgore; "well, I will unlock it," so he
raised his foot and with his number nine heel he kicked the
door open and went his way. There was no more locking
of that door.
On another day during this contest a photographer was
sent into the gallery and a photograph of the House was
taken. It showed the Speaker in the chair, the clerks at
their desks, the other officers at their respective posts, the
Republican members in their seats, and a solitary Democrat
(myself) in his seat. It was labeled:
"Second Democratic Secession from the Union."
On the back was an explanation of the picture from a
Republican view point.
The Democrats wrere represented as having left the hall
to prevent the transaction of business, and with neglecting
their duties, and referring to me as "a rebel" left by the
FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 265
Democrats to raise points of order and make dilatory mo
tions to consume time which the country demanded should
be devoted to the interests and welfare of the Republic.
This photograph, in large form, was circulated as a Repub
lican document in the next campaign, and I have a copy of
it well preserved.
Before concluding as to the Fifty-first, or "Reed" Con
gress, I want to put on record my estimate of Thomas B.
Reed. He was an intellectual giant; a man of stupendous
will-power, a born leader of men. He was among the
strongest debaters I have ever heard. In "a cut and come,"
thrust and parry, running debate I have never heard his su
perior. His sarcasm was biting, his invective was terrific.
He had much wit, and used it with great effect. He was
an extreme partisan, but with it all he had a big heart and
most generous impulses. In his death the country sustained
a heavy loss.
CHAPTER VII
SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES.
The Democrats in Power Again — Crisp Elected Speaker — Dawning of
the Day of Recognition of the South — Reed's Desire as to Demo
cratic Speakership — I am made Chairman of Committee on Elections
— The Celebrated Case of Noyes versus Rockwell — The Facts — The
Origin of "Where am I at" — Bourke Cochran's Speech for Rockwell
— My Reply and the Effect of a Happy Anecdote — Old John
Robinson's Plan to Carry an Election — The Case of Waddill versus
Wise.
The Democrats returned to power in the House of Repre
sentatives in the Fifty-second Congress, with a majority of
over forty. Many candidates appeared for the high prize
of Speakership. Those who remained to the end were
Roger Q. Mills, of Texas; Charles F. Crisp, of Georgia;
Benton McMillin, of Tennessee; William M. Springer, of
Illinois, and William H. Hatch, of Missouri.
Crisp and I had entered Congress together; he had been
a lieutenant in the Tenth Virginia Infantry — a Page County
company, and I had heard much of him during the war;
we were members of the same committees for years, and we
had become close and fast friends. I had seen him tried in
many ways, and he had always measured up to the full
standard of exalted manhood. I recognized his great abil
ity, cool head, and fine judgment. He had made a splendid
reputation as chairman of the Committee on Elections, and
in many contests on the floor with the ablest and best. I
espoused his cause from the start, and rejoiced when he won
the prize.
When the caucus met on Saturday night preceding the
Monday fixed for the meeting of the House, on the first
roll call the candidates, in point of strength, stood in the
following order: Crisp, Mills, McMillan, Springer, and
Hatch. Crisp led Mills about fourteen votes, but during the
evening McMillan and Hatch were withdrawn, and Crisp's
SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 267
lead over Mills was reduced to four votes. An adjourn
ment was then taken until Monday night. Everybody
recognized as a fact that the nominee would be either Crisp
or Mills, and that the friends of Springer could name the
next Speaker.
Crisp had selected the astute and diplomatic Catchings, of
Mississippi, the alert, energetic and prudent Montgomery,
of Kentucky, and myself to look after his interests and con
duct his fight, but we took counsel constantly of him, and
he proved himself to be a leader of remarkable skill.
Early in the contest we found there was friction between
Mills and Springer, and it grew each day. Crisp and his
friends sympathized with Springer, believing that he was
being unjustly treated.
Monday night came and the caucus met. The voting
commenced with Crisp still leading. Various roll calls de
veloped no change. About ten o'clock a recess was taken,
and just before the caucus reconvened we received at Crisp's
headquarters direct and authentic information that Springer
would withdraw his own name, vote for Crisp, and carry
his strength, as far as possible, to Crisp. This lifted a
mighty weight from our spirits, and we could see Crisp's
star fast ascending. Springer held the balance of power;
we knew there were some of his friends who held Crisp as
their second choice, and if Springer could swing a good
number of his devoted followers to the Georgia statesman,
Crisp's success was assured; this we confidently believed
Springer could do. With buoyant hearts Catchings, Mont
gomery, and I went among Crisp's friends and whispered
the cheering news into their ears, strengthening the weak-
kneed and rendering firmer the steadfast. The recess ended
and the members took their seats and the voting was re
sumed ; the first call of the roll showed no change, until the
call was over, when a prominent Southerner, who had been
supporting Crisp, sprang to his feet and changed his vote
from Crisp to Mills ; instantly he was surrounded by friends
of Crisp, begging him to stand firm, "as he had done on
many a fiery field," and before the result could be announced
268 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
he changed his vote back to Crisp, and the status quo was
preserved. Then came the second and last call ; the climax
was at hand.
Before many members had responded the tall and erect
figure of Springer was seen entering the hall. With beam
ing face and bold stride he advanced to the center of the
south side of the chamber and stood until his name was
called. Silence reigned. After thanking his friends for
their support, he withdrew his name, and said, "Mr. Chair
man, it is with unfeigned pleasure I cast my vote for Charles
F. Crisp, of Georgia."
Cheer after cheer resounded throughout the chamber, and
the corridors rang with huzzas for Crisp; then the friends
of Springer, as their names were called, responded "Crisp,"
and when the call was finished the Springer men who had
voted for him before his withdrawal changed their votes
for Crisp, with some exceptions, among them William Jen
nings Bryan, who preferred a man who was not a candi
date to either of the gentlemen in the field, both being from
the South. He adhered to Springer to the last. Crisp's
majority I think exceeded twenty.
The result of this contest brought the dawning of the
day of recognition of the South's coequal right in all the
affairs of the Nation. A Southern man and an ex-Confed
erate soldier was selected to preside over the House of Rep
resentatives of the Republic. The nomination of Crisp by
the votes of Northern men and ex-Union soldiers, as well
as Southern men and ex-Confederate soldiers, broke down
the barrier that had been Set up against men of Southern
birth, lineage, raising and citizenship holding high and
important National positions unless conferred by their re
spective States. Crisp was the first man who had worn the
gray or sympathized with the South to be elected Speaker,
since R. M. T. Hunter, of Virginia, graced the position
prior to the internecine strife. Speaker Carlisle, while a
Kentuckian, was neither a Confederate soldier nor a sym
pathizer with the cause of secession. He took the test oath,
SOME NOTABLE; CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 269
which he could not have done if his sympathies had not been
with the Union in the bloody era of 1861-65.
The installation of Crisp and the placing of the Speaker's
gavel and mace in his hands constituted the beginning of a
bright epoch in our history, and was like a rainbow in South
ern skies, betokening clearer weather after so many years
of lowering clouds.
M ills' s service in Congress far exceeded in length the ser
vice of Crisp; in fact Crisp's Congressional experience in
point of time was less than that of any of the candidates.
His election then was, indeed, a magnificent triumph, and so
ably, worthily and acceptably did he wear his honors
through the Fifty-second Congress that he was renominated
without a shadow of opposition in the Fifty-third Congress,
and but for his untimely death his name and fame would
have become brighter and brighter as the succeeding years
had rolled their cvcles. He was an ornament, not only to his
State, but to the whole country, and by his successful career
he exemplified in the highest degree the possibilities which
our form of government and the character of our institu
tions present to the youth of our land.
The ability of all the candidates for Speaker was beyond
question, but none of them had the combined qualities of
ability, temperament, judgment, diplomacy and industry in
so marked a degree as Crisp.
Before the Democratic caucus of the Fifty-second Con
gress met it was said that Thomas B. Reed entered a room
at Chamberlain's, where a number of Republican members
were whiling away an evening in social intercourse, inter
mixed with some politics, and he was asked who would be
the Democratic nominee for Speaker. He replied, "I have
not been in the rebel camp, and don't know what they will
do; but - — is the man I want them to select, for if
he is put in the Speaker's chair, I flatter myself I can make
him fling his gavel at my head once a day, at least, while
the session lasts."
He referred to a certain candidate who, though a gentle
man of superb ability, was very impulsive and quick-tern-
2/O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
pered. It is only necessary to say that the Maine statesman
did not get his choice, and that as able as he was, and as ir
ritating as he often was, he never succeeded in gaining any
advantage over the Speaker who succeeded him.
It goes without saying that all of the five aspirants for
Speakership honors in the Fifty-second Congress were high
and true men, and adorned their seats. Mills was sent to
the United States Senate; McMillin became Governor of
his State, and Springer was appointed to a judgeship in one
of the Territories. Alas ! To-day only Mills and McMillin
are living; the others have passed over the river, but they
left their marks deeply chiselled in their country's memory.
Hatch was the assistant commissioner of the Confederate
States for the exchange of prisoners, with his headquarters
at Richmond, the Capital of the Confederacy during the
war.
When the committees of the Fifty-second Congress were
formed I was made chairman of the Committee on Elec
tions, and I was re-appointed to this position in the Fifty-
third Congress.
There was less party rancor and partisan feeling displayed
by these two committees than by previous ones. Every
member seemed to realize that it was high time for contested
election cases to be calmly and dispassionately considered,
judged, and determined upon their merits. While I had
never done violence to my conscience in any case, I fear I
was not an entirely cool, calm, and unbiased judge, for I
may have been warped to some extent at times by my party
sympathies. In assuming the duties of chairman I resolved
that I would act the part of a just and impartial judge to
the very best of my ability, and this resolution I endeavored
to keep with absolute sincerity.
In writing of the work of these committees I can not
fail to give briefly the details of a case which attracted
widespread attention, and will long be remembered by rea
son of the prominent connection of certain gentlemen of.
National reputation with it. The papers of the country
were filled with it, and its discussion on the floor of Con-
SOM£ NOTABUJ CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 271
gress lasted for four days, drawing immense crowds to the
Capitol. It was the case of Noyes versus Rockwell, from
the Buffalo district, State of New York, and in which David
B. Hill, Bourke Cochran, John R. Fellows, and General
Wheeler figured conspicuously, and in which the expression
"Where am I at, Mr. Speaker," which has become famous,
was used.
Succinctly stated, the facts were as follows : Noyes had
been the Republican and Rockwell the Democratic candi
date. The returns showed a very small majority for Rock
well. Noyes attacked the returns in the courts, won his
point there, entitling him to the seat ; but pending the pro
ceedings the Board of Canvassers issued a certificate of elec
tion to Rockwell, and compelled Noyes to serve his notice of
contest; Rockwell answered, and depositions were taken.
When the roll of members was prepared by the clerk of the
House, Rockwell holding the certificate of election, his name
was placed upon the roll.
The consideration of the contest came on in due time in
the committee, and after elaborate argument the commit
tee, by a vote of eleven (five Democrats and six Republicans)
to three (all Democrats) decided that Noyes was entitled to
the seat. The fifteenth member, a Democrat (Hon. Daniel
N. Lockwood) from the Thirty-second New York district,
declined to vote. The majority directed me to prepare the
report of the Committee awarding the seat to Noyes, which
I did. A minority report was prepared by the three dissent
ing Democratic members, Messrs. Cobb, of Alabama;
Johnston, of South Carolina, and Gillespie, of Pennsylvania.
In a short time the case was called up on the floor of the
House for consideration. Judge Lawson, of Georgia, a
Democrat, a splendid lawyer, made the opening speech in
behalf of Noyes, the contestant; he was followed by Judge
Cobb, a Democrat, in a speech of four hours in behalf of
Rockwell, the contestee. For two hours Cobb spoke with
power ; then his physical strength seemed to wane, but with
great tenacity he continued until he had consumed his time,
then dropped into his seat, perfectly exhausted. He was
2/2 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
frequently interrupted by questions, and at the end of one
of these interruptions, in his weak physical condition his
mind refused to act for the moment and he could not catch
up the thread of his speech, so in a half-dazed condition he
gazed for an instant at the Speaker, and said, "Will you tell
me where I am at, Mr. Speaker." Everybody realized his
exhausted condition and that his mind simply became inert
for an instant, and nothing was thought of the remark. I
was sitting within ten feet of him, listening to every word
that fell from his lips, for I had to reply to him. In less than
a minute his mental faculties became active, he took up the
argument where he had left it when he was interrupted, and
continued to speak until his allotted time had been con
sumed.
A short time after this episode, Hon. Thomas S. Watson,
of Georgia, undertook to attack the personnel of the House
of Representatives, diarging dissipation and drunkenness,
and pointed out the condition and remark of Judge Cobb as
evidence sustaining the charge. I regarded the general
charge as unjust and unfounded, and his allusion to Judge
Cobb as unjustifiable and cruel.
Judge Cobb demanded an investigation, and the commit
tee, after hearing all the evidence, promptly acquitted him
of the charge. But Watson had spread the expression,
"Will you tell me where I am at, Mr. Speaker," everywhere,
and thousands of times it has been repeated. I have given
space to this explanation of the origin of the saying that I
might vindicate Judge Cobb and enter my denial of the alle
gation made against him.
Now recurring to the discussion. Cobb was followed by
other members pro and con, until the morning of the fourth
day was reached. Then came John R. Fellows and Bourke
Cochran to close the discussion for the contestee, and "take
the House by storm," as the contested s friends expressed
it. Fellows, in a most graceful, ornate, beautiful and rhyth
mic speech, occupied the floor for an hour. But it was not
a speech in \vhich either the facts or the law of the case was
discussed. It delighted the ear and made the blood tingle,
SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 273
but it gave no food for thought; in fact, he admitted he
had not read the record and had only glanced over the re
ports. Still I could see that his eloquence and appeals to
partisan feeling had made an impression.
Then came Bourke Cochran, powerful in physique, strong
in voice, flowing in words, eloquent in language, graceful
in gesture, and herculean in hurling his mighty bolts of in
vective. For an hour he criticised the Democratic members
of the Committee who had voted to seat a Republican,
lashed and thrashed me with his tongue for making a report
unseating a Democrat, and appealed to Democrats to stand
by the contestee and keep him in his seat. He closed amid
great applause, and took his seat with a look of supreme
satisfaction upon his face.
His speech had surprised me, first by his attack on Demo
cratic committeemen who had the courage of their convic
tions, when he had only a short time before made a pilgrim
age from New York, after a long absence from his seat, to
make a speech in favor of a Republican against whom the
committee had reported, and secondly his severe criticism
and condemnation of myself, which was nearly personal.
I rose to reply. Those around me said I was cool and
self-possessed, but I felt the fire in my brain and the hot
blood in my veins; I felt the fast heart-beats in my breast
and the emotions of chagrin and displeasure that filled my
soul. Still, I concealed all as best I could, and put on the
appearance of coolness as far as possible. My audience was
as large and grand as ever before or since filled the Congres
sional Hall. The people were packed, jammed and crammed
in the galleries, and the floor was filled almost to overflow
ing. I realized the House was almost under a charm pro
duced by the speeches of the two distinguished New York
representatives, and that I must say something to break the
charm and get my hearers to think of the substance of the
speeches and not simply their beauty and eloquence, their
invective and sarcasm. Fortunately for me, just before I
arose a story I had heard occurred to me and I concluded to
try it in opening my reply to Cochran.
18
274 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Addressing the chair I said :
"I hope we shall now have a calm after the equinoctial
storm which has just swept over the House, uprooting rea
son, dethroning thought, and tearing into tatters the great
fundamental principle that the high privilege of a seat on
this floor should be determined by the law and the facts,
and not by partisan bias and prejudice.
"The distinguished gentleman from New York who has
just addressed the House, with much apparent satisfaction
to himself, reminds me of the story of a fellow who was
traveling through a very sparsely settled section of the
West, when night overtook him in a thick forest, a great
storm came up, the heavens were as black as ink, the dark
ness was as dense as Erebus ; the thunder peals were deafen
ing and terrifying, and he could only see his way by an oc
casional flash of lightning. He was frightened almost to
death. Directly a terrible clap of thunder came, and the
fellow dropped to his knees, and looking up into the black
clouds above he exclaimed, 'O Good and Merciful God! if
it makes no difference to your Holy Majesty, I would like
to have more light and not so much noise.' '
Never did a story take better. It acted like magic. In an
instant the House and galleries caught the point, and they
broke out with thundering applause, and in spite of the
Speaker's gavel it continued, dying down and breaking out
repeatedly for some minutes; shouts and laughter came
from all quarters. The spell was broken, and the hearers
were brought to think, and to mentally ask themselves the
question, "What did he say about the case? Wasn't it all
noise and no light?" It is with reluctance that I have re
ferred to this occurrence, but the story has been so often
published, and I have been asked and even written to about
it so frequently, that I put it in these reminiscences. I do
not do it in disparagement of Mr. Cochran, for I regard
him as an exceedingly able and brainy man, but in this in
stance I think he made a mistake and presumed too much
upon his oratorical powers. His speech was strong of its
kind, but it was not the kind the occasion demanded. He
SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 2/5
was not informed as to the facts, and really made little ref
erence to them.
This was the most successful hit of my life, and I have
always thanked my stars for directing my mind to the story.
During my four hours' speech I was repeatedly inter
rupted and plied with questions, but it was usually by gen
tlemen who knew nothing of the facts, while I necessarily
knew them all, and I had no difficulty in answering those
who really wanted information, and in answering others
according to their folly.
In the heat of my argument I made a retort to an inter
ruption of a gentleman who I thought was endeavoring to
confuse or embarrass me in my remarks, which I have al
ways regretted. While it was entirely within parliamentary
bounds, there was too much pepper in it. I shall not repeat
it here, and I only refer to it to express my regret. The
gentleman had been my friend, and is now, I am happy to
say — our friendly relations having been restored by my
apology, which I think is always the manly thing to do
when you find you have improperly, unnecessarily, or hastily
given offense.
Elections have no doubt in many instances been carried
by fraud, tricks and devices of different kinds. They have
been carried by stuffing ballot-boxes, by false counting, by
the reception of illegal votes and the refusal of legal votes;
but the plan adopted by old John Robinson, of circus fame,
has never had its counterpart, and it was a fair and square
deal between him and the voters.
The Fourth Alabama district had a large majority of
colored voters, still the Democrats concluded to make an
effort to carry it. They made a nomination; the Republi
cans had a split in their convention, resulting in two Re
publican candidates; so there was a triangular fight, one
Democrat and two Republicans. Near the close of the can
vass John Robinson's circus appeared in several of the coun
ties of the district. The old fellow was "a Democrat from
way back," as he expressed it, so he conceived the idea that
he might aid the Democrats.
2/6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
He made inquiry as to the law on the subject of voting.
He was told that in order to vote a man must register and
receive his registration certificate, and present this certificate
at the polls ; that without this paper he could not vote. The
old man said nothing, but he acted instantly. He directed
his agents to let the colored voters know that they could
see his show without paying any money — all he would re
quire would be the delivery of their registration certificates
to his agents at the door of the tent. The news spread like
wildfire, and from far and near the colored voters flocked to
the show at every place the tents were pitched, with their
registration certificates in their pockets, and when the door
was opened in they rushed, handing their certificates, in
stead of circus tickets, to the doorkeepers. They saw the
show without money, but when the day of election came
they found they had voluntarily and of their own accord,
though ignorantly of course, disfranchised themselves.
Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage; they had
sold their muniment of suffrage to see the circus.
Duplicate certificates could not be issued, for under the
law a duplicate could only be given when the original had
been lost or mislaid. These certificates had neither been lost
nor mislaid.
The John Robinson plan proved to be most effective; the
Democratic candidate was elected, and though a contest was
made, he held his seat.
There is another contested election case to which I shall
refer, and then pass to some other subject.
It is the case of Edmund Waddill versus George D. Wise,
from the Third, or Richmond, District of Virginia. Wise,
the sitting member, was a Democrat, and had served several
terms; Waddill, the contestant, was a Republican. Both
had hosts of personal friends and both stood high in the
esteem of their respective parties. The contest was waged
principally upon the ground that many Republican voters
were prevented from casting their ballots by the unwar
ranted dilatory tactics of the Democratic officials and chal
lengers.
SOMIv NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 2J7
In the city of Richmond the colored vote was very large in
a particular ward, and many of these colored voters bore il
lustrious names. There were hosts of George Washingtons,
Thomas Jeffersons, James Madisons, James Monroes, An
drew Jacksons, Patrick Henrys, John Tylers, Henry Clays,
Benjamin Harrisons, and scores of others in which a few
names would cover them all. When George Washington,
for instance, would appear at the polling place his vote
would be challenged and much time consumed in ascertain
ing to the satisfaction of the election officers what George
Washington he was, and numerous questions propounded as
to his residence, place and time of birth, his occupation, for
whom he had worked, and then his right to vote would be
discussed at length, and thus frequently a half hour or lon
ger would be consumed before his ballot would be deposited.
In this way the sun set upon the heads of many a colored
voter who had for hours been standing in line with his un-
cast ballot in hand. The Democrats justified their course
upon the ground that the colored voter was hard to identify,
and that it was necessary to prevent fraudulent voting and
have a fair election.
The members of the committee divided on party lines in
the contest, but the majority being Republicans, a report
favoring the seating of the contestant was presented to the
House, followed by a minority report finding that the con-
testee had been duly elected and was entitled to the seat.
The majority report was adopted and the contestant seated.
This case was fought with spirit on both sides.
Fifteen years have passed since this contest. Both of the
parties to it are still living in Richmond, the storm-center
of their battle of ballots; passion has cooled; party ran
cor has passed away; angry disputes are no longer heard:
opprobrious political epithets no longer offend.
The contestant and contestee, while still differing on par
ty lines, are friends. The former, Honorable Edmund Wad-
dill, fills, and has filled for years, the position of United
States District Judge of the Eastern District of Virginia,
with such ability, fairness, fearlessness, urbanity, and kind-
278 FORTY YEARS Otf ACTIVE SERVICE
ness as to draw to him, not only the respect and confidence,
but the esteem and love of the entire bar of his district. The
contestee is prosecuting his profession as a lawyer with abil
ity and success, while he counts his friends all around him
by the thousands. As a representative of the Richmond
district in Congress, he was as
"True as the needle to the pole,
Or the dial to the sun."
Xo district was ever more faithfully represented than was
the Third Congressional district of Virginia by him. I
speak whereof I know.
CHAPTER VIII
INCIDENTS OF THE FIFTY-SECOND CONGRESS.
The Occasion of a Long "Deadlock"— The Direct Tax Bill— The French
Spoliation Claims — William S. Holman, the "Watch-dog of the
Treasury" — Pension Bills — The Number of United States Pensioners
Double the Number of Confederate Soldiers on the Rolls During
the War— The "Dependent Pension Bill"— Vetoed by President
Cleveland.
The longest "deadlock" during my Congressional service,
except in the Langston-Venable contested election case, was
in the Fifty-second Congress, when the bill known as "The
Direct Tax Bill" was under consideration.
Under Section 8 of Article I of the Federal Constitution
Congress is authorized to lay and collect taxes, but during
the history of the Government a direct tax, that is, a tax on
real estate, has been laid but five times — in 1798, 1813, 1815,
1816, and 1861. The last time was during the War between
the States, when a direct tax of $20,000,000 was levied, to be
proportionately assessed against all lots of ground with their
improvements and dwelling houses.
The Direct Tax Bill to which I have referred provided
for the refunding of $15,000,000 of the $20,000,000 to the
persons who paid it if living, if not to their heirs, and where
neither a person who had paid it nor his heirs could be
found, the amount due him was to be appropriated by the
State in which he lived at the time of payment as it might
deem proper. Many Virginians in certain sections of the
State had been compelled to pay this tax; my district, by
reason of the high values of its lands and its proximity to the
Federal Capital, had paid a larger proportion of Virginia's
whole. My constituents, or many of them at least, were
deeply interested in the passage of the bill, and of course I
was supporting it warmly. The Cotton States Representa
tives insisted upon an amendment, providing for the re
funding of the cotton tax which had been levied and a large
280 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
sum collected upon it during the war, as well as the refund
ing of the direct tax; this amendment was strenuously op
posed by the friends of the bill ; they argued that the cotton
tax was not paid by the planter, that it was added to the
price of the product when it was sold to the manufacturer,
and the manufacturer got it back when he sold the manu
factured article to the consumer, and that the consumer, not
the planter, actually paid the tax; but that the direct tax
payer paid the tax out of his own pocket directly into the
coffers of the Government ; that one bore no analogy to the
other.
A filibustering movement against the bill was inaugurated
under the leadership of William C. Gates, of Alabama, an
able, bold, and untiring fighter, and for several days and
nights the House was in continuous session. Finally an ad
journment was had to give the members an opportunity to
get a night's rest ; a Democratic caucus was held, and after
much discussion it was agreed that the bill should go over to
the next or short session, to be called up a day fixed in the
caucus resolution, discussed for a given time, and then a
vote taken without dilatory motions.
In the next session the caucus resolution was carried out,
and the bill passed the House without amendment, was sent
to the Senate, where it was passed also, and was signed by
the President and became a law on the 2d of March, 1901.
Virginia's proportion of the $15,000,000, amounting to a
large sum, was turned over to the Governor, and under his
directions disbursed to the various persons who had paid
this tax, or to their heirs, as far as claims were made, and
then the residue, for which there were no claimants, was by
act of the legislature distributed equitably among the coun
ties, where the claimants who could not be found had lived,
and the fund was used by these counties for public road pur
poses.
Far back in the history of this government, about 1800,
in fact. American commerce became a prey to French
cruisers.
INCIDENTS OF THE FIFTY-SECOND CONGRESS 28 1
The United States asserted a claim against France for
her citizens who had suffered by the wrongful seizure of
their vessels and cargoes on the high seas. France pre
sented a counter-claim against the United States as a gov
ernment for damages sustained by the French government
by the failure of the United States to exercise close vigi
lance over the belligerent rights and the treaty stipulations
between the two nations and the warring European powers.
Ultimately the United States offered to withdraw the
claim of her citizens against France if France would with
draw her claim against the United States. France accepted
the proposition, and thus our government relieved herself
of her obligation by surrendering the claims of her citizens.
In a word, she paid her own debt with the private claims of
her citizens against France.
In equity and justice, by her act, she assumed and became
liable to her citizens whose claims she had used in settling
her own debt. From that day forward the French Spolia
tion Claims were pressed upon the attention of Congress,
but for decades they were fought and combated, until in
1885 an act was passed and approved, authorizing the claim
ants to apply to the Court of Claims for adjudication of their
claims. Judgments have been rendered by this court upon
many of these claims, and appropriations have been made
to pay them, but always for much less than the claims and
without interest. But through lapse of time, death of claim
ants, and loss of papers and evidence, just claims amount
ing to millions will be lost, and this great government will
profit by her unjustifiable procrastination and delay, and in
turning a deaf ear for so many weary years to the appeals
for adjustment and payment. As just stated, no interest
has been allowed upon the claims which have been paid ; the
Government never pays interest, except upon her bonds, in
which the payment of interest is expressly stipulated. In
this case she used these claims as money to satisfy a claim
against herself, and then refused for three-quarters of a cen-
t;iry or more to settle with the claimants, and when she
282 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
finally settled some, she reduced the claims, and declined to
pay any interest upon them.
Among the ablest and most persistent opponents of the
payment of the French Spoliation Claims was Hon. William
S. Holman, of Indiana. He had been in Congress contin
uously from the Thirty-sixth Congress.
From study and by absorption he was perhaps the best
informed representative on the floor upon matters of gen
eral public interest that had been before Congress during
the preceding fifty years. His memory was wonderful, and
his mind was literally a storehouse of legislative facts and
events. For years he played the role of "General Objector,"
a necessary role to be assumed by some one in every legisla
tive body, and he who plays it well and judiciously in the
House of Representatives deserves the people's gratitude,
for he saves the public treasury from the unjust payment
of many a dollar, particularly toward the close of a session,
when the rules are set aside and bills are passed under whip
and spur.
About the Fiftieth Congress, however, he tired of the bur
den and cares of the position of "General Objector," and his
mantle, worn so long and well, fell upon the shoulders of
Hon. Constantine B. Kilgore, of Texas, of whom mention
has been made in another connection. By his vigilance in
guarding the exchequer of the Government for many years,
Mr. Holman had been styled the "Watch-dog of the Treas
ury," a term, so far as my reading has gone, that was first
applied, back in the fifties of the last century, to "Honest
John Letcher," of Virginia, and who was afterwards Gov
ernor of his State.
But there were occasions when Mr. Holman would be
found, it is said, dropping his role of "General Objector,"
or "Watch-dog of the Treasury," and such an occasion
would come when a bill was called carrying an appropriation
for the benefit of Indiana, such as the construction of a
public building, or for the relief of some citizen of the
Hoosier State, then he was silent. So one day, when he
was referred to as the "Watch-dog of the Treasury," some
INCIDENTS OF THE FIFTY-SECOND CONGRESS 283
member replied, "Yes, he has a peculiar characteristic of a
watch-dog, he barks at everybody except home- folks."
But William S. Holman was a man of ability, untiring
energy, and incorruptible character, a fine debater and a
most stubborn fighter; but like all men, he was not always
right, and in my humble opinion his judgment in regard
to the justice and equity of the French Spoliation Claims
was greatly at fault.
While he was usually a very sedate man, he had quite a
vein of humor. A certain gentleman had greatly pleased
the House with a witty speech, and after that he was con
stantly endeavoring to make another hit on that line, until
he became rather a bore. So one evening he was engaged
in an attempt to elicit applause by his witticism, but to no
avail; passing Mr. Holman, who was looking intently at
the speaker, I said, "What do you think of him?" He re
plied, "He reminds me of a little boy who has just found
out he could spin a top ; he is always at it."
During my entire service in Congress I did not vote
against a single bill to pension a Federal veteran unless I
believed it lacked merit, and then I did not hesitate. It was
my opinion that every government should care for and save
from penury or want its materially-disabled and dependent
soldiers, and while every pension bill drew from the people
of the South millions of dollars, with no return, yet such
was the fortune of war, and the vanquished must bear \vith
patience and composure the burden imposed.
But Congress was far too lavish in its pension expendi
tures, and so many improper pensions were issued that the
conferring of one could not be taken, even prima facie, as a
"badge of honor." It was a fact so generally known that a
large percentage of the pensioners obtained their pensions
through fraud, favoritism, or political influence and held
them unworthily, as to cast a suspicion upon all, for there
was no means of picking out the just from the unjust, or
separating the worthy from the unworthy. It was also a
significant fact that the number of United States pensioners
about doubled the entire number of Confederate soldiers on
284 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
the Confederate rolls during the four years of war, showing
that if the pensions were worthily bestowed, the bullets of
the Confederates did far more havoc in the ranks of the
Federals than the reports of the Federal generals disclosed
after the battles, making all due allowance for mistakes and
haste. While, as I have said, every government should
grant pensions to its maimed, disabled, and dependent sol
diers, it was always a source of supreme pride with me that
there were so few Confederate soldiers who did not succeed
in earning a livelihood by their own indomitable spirit and
superb manhood. They were compelled to rely upon their
own labor and energy, and they went to work like true men
with brains and muscles, nerve and determination, and
from the ashes, wrecks and ruins, devastation and desola
tion left by the cruel hand of war their stricken land soon
began to recuperate and recover, smile and blossom with
returned prosperity.
I do not think I am exceeding the bounds of propriety
when I declare that there were many Northern representa
tives, some of them gallant Union veterans, who disapproved
of the wholesale manner in which pensions were granted,
but behind every bill was the vote of a soldier and the votes
of his kinsmen and all pension applicants in a representa
tive's district. They constituted potential factors in an elec
tion, and to vote against a bill reported by the pension com
mittee was to sound the death knell to the representative's
political aspirations.
I regarded the ''Dependent Pension Bill" in its provisions
as radically wrong in principle. It gave, for instance, to
every dependent father of a soldier killed in battle the right
to a pension regardless of circumstances. This bill was op
posed upon the floor of Congress by General Edward S.
Bragg, of Wisconsin, who commanded in the Federal Army
the brigade known as the "Iron Brigade," which stood in
the estimation of the Union army of the West very much
as the "Stonewall Brigade" was held in the estimation of
the Confederate armies. With a boldness and fearlessness
that was admirable, this distinguished Union general, with
INCIDENTS OF THE FIFTY-SECOND CONGRESS 285
his splendid eye sparkling with animation, and a voice that
could be heard distinctly in the most remote part of the
chamber, rained a perfect torrent of objections upon the in
defensible provisions of the bill.
He referred to a recreant husband and father who had de
serted his wife and baby-boy in its swaddlings. The wife
struggled on for years and died ; the boy grew up, and when
the war came on entered the Union Army and was killed.
This father was never heard of until the Dependent Pen
sion Bill was offered, then he disclosed his place of residence,
and began to gather evidence that he was the father of the
dead young soldier, and was eagerly waiting to file his ap
plication for a pension as the dependent father of the boy
he had deserted before the child could lisp his miserable
name. And," said the General, "he will get his pension
under this bill ; he is simply waiting with mouth open for its
passage."
But strong as was the opposition, the bill passed the
House and then the Senate, but it met its death at the hands
of President Cleveland, by an able, bold, and unanswerable
veto message. By no act during his incumbency did Presi
dent Cleveland display the courage of his convictions more
conspicuously than in putting the stamp of his disapproval
upon this bill. He proved himself to be a statesman without
guile and a patriot without selfishness.
CHAPTER IX
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC.
Protection Discussed Until a Thread-bare Subject— The Morrison Tariff
Bill the First Measure I Vote for— The South's Obligation to
Mr. Randall — "Tariff for Revenue Only" the Slogan of the Demo
cratic Party in 1885 — The Most Notable Speeches on the Subject of
the Tariff— The Rise of the Silver Question— The Silverites Become
Aggressive After the Repeal of the Purchase Clause in 1893 — Mr.
Bryan's Intention to Stump Virginia Against me — The "Danville
Riot" of 1885 — Its Discussion in Congress — The Internal Revenue
Tax — "Moonshiners."
From the day I entered Congress until I left it, a period
of twelve years, the discussion of protection, free trade,
tariff for revenue and reciprocity never ceased, except for
brief periods. If ever subjects were threshed thread-bare,
these were, and if this country is not fully conversant with
them it surely is not the fault of the members of Congress
from 1882 to 1894. The speeches would fill, if gathered to
gether, very many volumes of the Congressional Record,
and they were spread in pamphlet form over the country as
thick as the leaves of autumn.
They were as variant in style as the glasses of a kaleido
scope in colors. Some were strong and logical, some force
ful and cogent, some eloquent and beautiful, some frothy
and vapory, and some humorous and witty. The members,
with few exceptions, felt it was incumbent upon them to put
their views on record, and if they were not speakers, or
failed to secure recognition and time, they would ask "leave
to print," and their views would be put in cold type in the
Congressional Record. Certain night sessions were set
apart for tariff speeches only, and many a good speech was
made to empty seats on the floor, but generally to a pretty
full gallery.
There is no legislative subject that attracts the attention
of the people more than the subject of taxation. Touch the
TH3 TARIFF, FRE£ SILVER, ETC. 287
pocket nerve of a man and you are mighty apt to stir and
arouse his sensibilities.
Of course, we heard all about the origin of the word tar
iff; that it had been handed down by tradition, as having
originated from the custom of the Moorish chiefs in de
manding tribute from all vessels that passed through the
straits of Gibraltar at or near the town of Tarifa, in Spain.
We were told of the tariff of the Greeks and Romans, and
the early English tariffs of nearly a thousand years ago and
the later tariffs of Great Britain, and of their abolition about
the middle of the last century. We were also told of the
various tariff measures of the United States. The tariff of
eight per cent on imports by the first Congress, which Wash
ington favored, but which was raised somewhat to satisfy
Virginia; the tariff of 1816 of about twenty-three per cent
upon certain manufactured articles, to which the Southern
States objected; of the first attempt in 1828 to levy a pro
tective tariff of forty-one per cent and the opposition raised
to it by the States of the South, and the compromise that fol
lowed; of the tariff for protection of 1842, which was ve
toed by President Tyler; the tariff for revenue of 1846,
the average being twenty-five per cent; the tariff still for
revenue of 1857 °f twenty per cent; the Morrill Tariff Act
of 1 86 1, containing an assertion of the right to levy customs
duties for protection and not revenue only ; and we were car
ried through all the vibrations and changes of rates during
the War between the States, or "The War of the Rebellion,"
as some of our Republican brethren termed the struggle.
Every member after a while was a walking encyclopedia of
tariff statistics and information, if he had anything like a
retentive memory.
The Morrison Tariff Bill of the Forty-eighth Congress
provided for a general horizontal cut of import duties. It
was opposed by several strong Democratic members, among
them Hon. Samuel J. Randall, of Pennsylvania, as grand a
man in all the attributes of manhood as ever graced the
Congressional Halls. He was a fine parliamentarian, a most
direct and effective speaker, a leader of great astuteness and
288 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
force, cool under all circumstances, and fought always to
the last ditch. He represented a district in which the pro
tection sentiment was predominant, and he did not believe
the question of tariff should be made a party issue by the
Democrats.
He contested every inch of ground, and only yielded when
the bill was passed. But while Mr. Randall did not agree
with his party on this issue, in all other party matters he
was as straight-laced as the most orthodox, and to gain an
advantage in this struggle over the Morrison Bill he could
not be induced to delay action upon my contested election
case. On the day before the vote was to be taken on the
bill my case was called for consideration, and although he
knew that if seated, as I certainly would be, I would cast
my vote for the bill, he refused to interfere, saying that I
was entitled to the seat for which I was contesting, that I
had already been kept out of it too long, and that he would
vote to seat me, even if I could vote a dozen times for the
bill.
T was seated, and on the next day cast my vote for the
Morrison Bill, but with deep regrets that my first vote
should be against the position of him to whom the South
owed a debt of gratitude she could never pay. And just
here, though a little out of place at this point, I will explain
why the South was under an obligation of such magnitude to
Randall. Only a few Congresses back the South was stirred
from center to circumference by the determination of the
Republican party to drive through Congress a "Force Bill,"
placing her Federal elections under Federal control, which
meant negro and carpetbagger domination, and Federal bay
onets at the polls. In this never-to-be-forgotten struggle on
the floor this iron-jawed and resolute man had fought with
the strength of a Hercules, the courage of a lion, and the
fierceness of a tiger, that dangerous and unjust measure, for
days and nights, until the clock's dial pointed to the mid
night hour, the last hour of the session, when the gavel of
Speaker Blaine fell and he declared that the Congress stood
adjourned sine die under the Constitution and laws of the
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 289
land. Without sleep or rest for, I think, seventy-two con
secutive hours, Randall had remained at his post, with his
soul swelling with a determination to maintain the sover
eignty of the States and the guaranteed rights of the people,
to protect the ballot-box from interference by Federal sa
traps, and the voters from intimidation by the presence of
Federal bayonets at the polls. This constituted the debt of
gratitude which was due to Samuel J. Randall by the people
of the South from Virginia to Texas.
I beg here to quote from the Congressional Record a
few sentences of my humble tribute to his memory, when
his voice was stilled and his heart ceased to throb. I said :
I have risen in my seat as a Representative of the "Old Common
wealth" to testify as best I can with my feeble tongue to the love she
bore for this great and grand man, and to the anguish of her soul now
that he has joined the mighty host beyond the shores of Time. I need
not say Virginia never simulates love; she never feigns sorrow. She
loved Randall with a devotion that knew no bounds, and her sorrow at
his death is as genuine as her love was true. * * *
In Randall she ever found a friend whose hand and heart and soul
were enlisted in her defense against wrongs and in the vindication of her
rights. With her Southern sisters, she stood weak and poor, bleeding
from a hundred wounds, helpless to avert the dangers that threatened,
powerless to ward the blows which were being aimed at her dearest in
terests, her material welfare, her most sacred rights, her civilization, her
homes, her lares and penates. Almost in despair, almost ready to accept
what seemed to be the inevitable and to bear with heroic patience the
yoke which had been made for her neck, as sudden as a flash, as quick
as a sunbeam, despair gave way to hope, hope sprang into confidence;
a deliverer in full armor, strong, able and courageous, appeared in the
arena — Samuel J. Randall, the born leader of men, the born enemy of
tyranny, the born lover of constitutional freedom had espoused the cause
of a weak, feeble, bleeding and defenseless people.
Recurring now to the subject of the tariff I will say that
the Morrison Bill failed to pass the Senate and the tariff
laws remained unchanged. It was in this tariff conflict that
William McKinley laid the corner-stone of the foundation
of his future luminous fame and brilliant distinction. With
clearness and without reservation or evasion he proclaimed
himself a "protectionist/' and declared for a tariff high
enough to protect every American industry.
19
290 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
In 1885 Mr. Cleveland, in his message to the Forty-ninth
Congress, took high ground on the question of tariff, and
in that direct style which has marked all his writings, he
made "Tariff for revenue only" the slogan of his party. He
insisted that our government "is never better administered,
and its true spirit is never better observed than when the
people's taxation for its support is scrupulously limited to
the actual necessity of expenditure and distributed accord
ing to a just and equitable plan."
In 1887 he devoted his entire message to the Fiftieth Con
gress to a discussion of the subject of the tariff, stating that
for the year ending June 30, 1887, the excess of revenue
over public expenditure reached the sum of $55,567,849.54.
He declared that the existing "tariff laws, the vicious, in
equitable, and illogical source of unnecessary taxation ought
to be at once revised and amended ; that these laws, as their
primary and plain effect, raise the price to consumers of all
articles imported and subject to duty by precisely the sum
paid for such duties. Thus the amount of the duty meas
ures the tax paid by those who purchase for use these im
ported articles."
The Mills Bill was framed largely in accordance with
President Cleveland's views; it was passed by the House,
but failed in the Senate. The Fifty-first Congress passed
in 1890 an act raising the duties to an average of about
forty-eight per cent on dutiable goods, and this act was the
law of the land when my Congressional life ended. To-day
the Dingley Bill, passed in 1897, is in force, and the rates
on many articles are the highest ever known in our history.
But "tariff for revenue" is now recognized as one of the
staid and fundamental doctrines of the Democratic party,
and the standing of a man upon this issue is the best possi
ble test of his political faith. If he does not stand for a
"tariff for revenue" he must be a "protectionist," and if a
protectionist he is necessarily a Republican and not a Demo
crat.
The most notable speeches, in my opinion, made upon the
question of tariff were those of John G. Carlisle, William
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 29 1
D. Kelley, known as "Pig-iron Kelley," by reason of his
long connection with the iron industries of Pennsylvania;
Roger Q. Mills, William McKinley, William L. Wilson, of
West Virginia; John Dalzell, of Pennsylvania; S. S. Cox
(Sunset), of New York, and Benjamin Butterworth, of
Ohio. A reading of these speeches would be sufficient to
enable any tyro to understand the subject and to decide for
himself between "tariff for protection" and "tariff for rev
enue." There were, of course, a vast number of other fine
and instructive speeches delivered, but those I have named
presented the respective sides of the controversy so strongly
and forcibly, so clearly and distinctly, as to render the read
ing of others unnecessary.
The free coinage of silver, which has since become so
prominent an issue, had not fully developed into an issue of
any great magnitude prior to my retirement from the halls
of National legislation. In fact I had given it comparatively
little consideration. I was not a member of the Committee
on Coinage, Weights and Measures, to which all bills relat
ing to the currency were referred.
Being occupied with the work of my own committees, I
gave a very small portion of my time to a study of the ques
tion which in 1896 and again in 1900, in my opinion, con
tributed so largely to the defeat of the Democratic party.
The chairman of the Committee on Coinage, Weights and
Measures, Richard P. Bland, was a free silverite and an en
thusiastic supporter of the free and unlimited coinage of the
white metal, during my entire service. He was always
ready, in season and out of season, to take up the gage of
battle and strike with all his might for the establishment of
two standards of value. He was an absolutely honest man,
and firmly believed that this government alone could put the
coinage of silver upon the same footing as the coinage of
gold, and maintain silver at a parity with gold at the ratio
of fifteen or sixteen to one.
It was not until 1893 tna^ ms views found a lodging place
in the minds of many members ; then, rather suddenly, free
silver came to the front in somewhat gorgeous array. In
FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
fact the sentiment in its favor seemed to me to have sprung
up almost in a night ; that in the shortest time, like Jonah's
gourd, it had grown to immense proportions.
In 1878 an act was passed by which silver dollars of 412^
grains were made legal-tender for all debts, and the Secre
tary of the Treasury was authorized to purchase at market
value and coin not less than $2,000,000 and not more than
$4,000,000 worth of silver bullion per month. In 1890 the
law of 1878 was repealed and the Secretary of the Treasury
was authorized to purchase 4,500,000 ounces of silver per
month, issuing legal-tender notes in payment, and to coin
monthly sufficient of the bullion to redeem these notes. In
1893 the clause in the Act of 1890, authorizing the pur
chase of silver, was repealed.
From the date of this repeal forward, the silverites be
came more and more aggressive, culminating finally in the
memorable free-silver contest of 1896. At no time could
I bring myself to believe that it was within the power of the
United States alone to maintain the free and unlimited coin
age of silver, and in 1896, and again in 1900, I refused to
endorse the National Democratic platform or vote for Wil
liam Jennings Bryan. In the former election I cast my vote
for the Palmer and Buckner electors, and in the latter I sim
ply cast my ballot for the Democratic candidate for Con
gress in my district. It was a great struggle with me to
cut loose from so many of my party friends, but I believed
the free coinage of silver would bring confusion and possi
bly irretrievable injury to the business interests of the coun
try, so I determined not to be swayed by partisan feelings,
but to withhold my support and vote from the platform and
candidate adopted and nominated by the party. For my
course I was condemned by the supporters of the platform
and ticket, but I found myself in a most respectable minority
in Virginia, for there were about 54,000 Democrats in the
State — Democrats of the first water, Democrats who had
never failed before to vote the State or National Democratic
ticket — who did not endorse the free-silver platform or sup
port William Jennings Bryan, the Nebraska statesman.
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 293
As a rule it is not well to open up old wounds or tear the
scab from old sores, but when the truth is at stake it should
be done.
It has been charged, and repeatedly charged, and so far as
I have ever heard never denied by Mr. Bryan, that he had
promised or given the Populists of Virginia to understand,
or led them to believe, that he would canvass Virginia, or at
least make speeches in the State, for the Populist nominee
for Governor, who was a strong silverite, and against the
Democratic nominee who was opposed to free silver in 1893.
As I was the nominee of the Democratic party, I deem it
proper to state the facts as far as I know them.
In rather the early part of my canvass, perhaps the first
of October, 1893, I heard in Washington a rumor that Mr.
Bryan intended to stump Virginia against me. I met him
directly after the rumor reached me, on the floor of the
House of Representatives. I told him what I had heard,
and asked him if it could possibly be true. He hesitated for
several seconds and said : "Colonel, the way the Democrats
are doing does not suit me at all. I don't know where I will
land." I replied : "If you have determined to go into Vir
ginia to speak against me, you have already landed ; if you
go, Mr. Bryan, you will surely be met everywhere and you
will have a cold reception from your kinspeople over there,
for they are all true Democrats; there is no Populism in
them." He studied for a few seconds, and then said, "Col
onel, I won't go." I replied, "All right." He never denied
the correctness of the rumor, and his language and manner
convinced me that the rumor was well founded, and the an
ticipation of getting the cold shoulder from his numerous
Virginia cousins changed his mind. I have given as near as
possible the language of both of us on the occasion named.
I have other evidence, part of it hearsay, part circumstantial,
to sustain the charge. I have always regarded Mr. Bryan
as Populistic and not Democratic in principle, and that all
that has induced him to keep himself aligned with the Dem
ocratic party was the weakness and waning of the Popu
list party. I long since predicted that unless he could domi-
294 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
nate and control the Democratic party he would leave its
ranks. He must lead; he will never follow. Caesar said
"he would rather be the first man in a village than the second
man in Rome." Time will show how much in this respect
Bryan is Caesarlike.
I will simply add that I was reliably informed that the
Populists confidently expected early in the canvass the aid
of Jerry Simpson, Lafe Pence, and Kerr, from Kansas, I
think, and William Jennings Bryan; they all came, except
the latter. It is singular the Populist leaders' expectations
were realized in the three instances, and they had no ground
for expectation in the fourth. If Mr. Bryan was a Demo
crat in 1893, fro™ the facts I have stated, and his manner in
his conversation with me, I am reminded of the story of the
boy who when told by his teacher that the sun was much
larger than this world, replied, "Well, Mr. Teacher, I can't
doubt your word, but if the sun is much larger than this
world, it has a mighty poor way of showing it." If Mr.
Bryan was a well-grounded Democrat in 1893 he had "a
mighty poor way of showing it," and it was very strange
that all the Populist leaders were loudly proclaiming his en
trance as a Populist into Virginia.
Just as the gubernatorial canvass of 1885 was concluding,
what was known as the "Danville Riot" occurred. In the
city of Danville there was a very large colored population,
and these people had been aroused to a state of recklessness
and desperation by intemperate, in fact incendiary, utter
ances on the hustings by several bitter and vindictive parti
san Republican speakers.
For days prior trouble was brewing; the white people
realized it; the negroes were insolent and disposed to take
matters into their own hands ; they bade defiance to the legal
authorities and to all intents and purposes took possession
of the city. The white people found their blood boiling;
their homes and property were in jeopardy; they quietly
armed themselves and prepared for the conflict which they
believed was inevitable. It came quickly, and blood ran in
the streets, but it was soon over; the negroes, though gath-
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 295
ered in immense numbers and in a state of frenzy and mad
ness, gave way directly and ran in every direction.
The whites showed no spirit of vengeance and were guilty
of no cruel acts. They were far more infuriated against
the marplots who had poisoned the minds of the negroes
then they were against the negroes themselves. But these
sowers of discord and fomentors of strife were far away
from the scene. They had left the poor deluded negroes to
their fate.
The news of this affair flew on electric wings to all cor
ners of the State, and many a white man who had taken little
or perhaps no interest in the gubernatorial contest was early
at the polls on election day, to declare by his vote his fealty
to a white man's government in Virginia. This riot con
verted Danville from a city of disorder and lawlessness into
a city of order, law, peace and tranquillity, and so it has re
mained to the present day.
A resolution was offered in the Senate of the United
States providing for the appointment of a committee to "in
vestigate the Danville Riot." It passed, the committee was
appointed, and the investigation was had.
On the committee was Senator Zebulon D. Vance, and
into his hands were confided the interests of Danville, and
no abler or more faithful champion could have been selected.
The hearing occurred in a Senate committee-room and was
long and protracted, and resulted in giving to the country
the facts, upon which there was a verdict by all fair and just
people, exonerating the white people of the little city on the
Dan from blame.
There was some discussion of the riot on the floor of the
Senate, but it was listless and spiritless, so much so as to
draw from North Carolina's distinguished Senator a humor
ous remark, for which he was so noted. A Senator was
speaking of "the atrocious deed," with no life in his voice
and no spirit in his speech, when some person in a group
of perhaps a dozen of us, among the number Senator Vance,
said, "Senator, does Senator always speak as he is
speaking now? There is no vim or spirit in him." Vance
296 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
replied : "That's his style. He is so cold that he could not
sit by a pretty girl, the hottest day in August, without giving
her the shivers."
Senator Vance was a most remarkable man. His counter
part has never been born; his equal in many respects has
never existed. A more winning and captivating speaker be
fore the masses has never appeared upon the hustings; he
could strike the popular pulse faster than any man I have
ever heard. In logic he was powerful ; in humor he was
unexcelled. His repartee was as quick as lightning; his
blows were stunning and in fencing with an opponent he
never left his guard down. He was the attraction of any
social circle. Virginia mourned his death only a little less
than North Carolina, whose gubernatorial chair he twice
filled with honor, and whose name in the Senate of the
United States he wreathed with garlands.
For years during my Congressional term the repeal of
the internal revenue tax on distilled spirits and tobacco was
earnestly urged. It was contended that it was a tax on the
product of the soil and a burden upon the farmers. North
Carolina and Virginia were particularly vigorous in their
efforts, and their representatives led the fight. The Virginia
leader was Honorable George C. Cabell, of the Fifth district.
He was as energetic and faithful a representative as any dis
trict could boast of, and these qualities, coupled with his
ability and his popularity on the floor, made him most po
tential in behalf of any measure he advocated.
We had a strong ally in Samuel J. Randall, who believed in
striking down internal taxation rather than customs duties.
Many of the Republicans were opposed to internal revenue
taxes, but they were afraid to vote to relieve distilled spirits
and tobacco from taxation. They would have been glad to
see the Democrats do so, but they were afraid to aid them
with their votes. The Northern Democrats, generally, con
tended that whiskey and tobacco were not necessities, and
they could not vote to relieve them from taxation while cus
toms duties remained on the common necessaries of life.
The North Carolinians and Virginians, however, continued
THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 297
their efforts from session to session, but they never suc
ceeded.
In the two States were many "moonshiners," a term given
to those who in the fastnesses of the mountains would set
up stills, generally of the crudest kind, and then secretly
and quietly, under the light of the moon, distill brandy from
the apples and peaches grown in the neighborhoods and
smuggled to the stills. It was usually a small business, but
there was always a demand for "moonshine brandy," as it
could be bought at much less than the internal tax upon the
product.
But many a "moonshiner" was caught and paid dearly for
his defiance of the law. The Fifth and Ninth districts were
the principal abodes of these people, and the representatives
from these districts had their hands always full with appli
cations for pardons. While the officials were rigid, they
frequently granted pardons, and on various occasions I saw
the face of the big-hearted Cabell all radiant over the par
don he had secured for some poor denizen of the Mountain
of Hepsedam, as he would express it. He was seemingly as
happy over his success in relieving the poor and unfortunate
man as if he had found something of almost priceless value.
Occasionally a constituent of mine would get into trouble
by "moonshining" and he would appeal to me to get him re
lieved of the meshes of the law. The first petition of the
kind I received I was directed at the White House to pre
sent to the Pardon Clerk in the Department of Justice.
When I entered the office of the clerk I was very much sur
prised to find him an old friend whom I had known from
my boyhood, and for whom I had cast my first vote while
in the Confederate Army, for representative in the Confed
erate House of Representatives from the lower Shenandoah
Valley district — Honorable Alexander R. Boteler, of Jeffer
son County. I had not seen him for years and was delighted
to meet him. Prior to the war he had been a candidate
three times, I think, for the United States Congress, losing
in his first two contests and winning in his third, and was a
member when Virginia seceded. He was an orator in its
298 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
strictest sense, and I can recall now some of his flights or
eloquence which thrilled me as a boy. The war had im
paired his fortune, and in his old age, though a Democrat,
he had accepted the appointment as Pardon Clerk from his
iriend and class-mate, Hon. B. H. Brewster, then Attorney-
General of the United States. As I sat talking with this
cultured man, whom the people had loved and highly hon
ored, I could not help thinking of the vicissitudes of life.
When I took his hand on my departure I thought I saw a
quiver of the lips ; I thought I could see in his face that his
mind was running back to the days when multitudes hung
upon his flowing words and did him homage.
In a few days he wrote me that the case of my constituent
had been "briefed." I sent for the papers and with them I
went to the White House and succeeded in obtaining a par
don for my "moonshiner" constituent.
CHAPTER X
FORCE BIIvIv THE NAVY — PATRONAGE.
The Force Bill Again — A Menace to the South — Credit Due to Senators
Gorman and Stewart for its Defeat— The Naval Question— The
Turreted Ironclad and Monitor the Creations of Necessity — Mr.
Whitney the Pioneer of the New Navy — Hon. Hilary A. Herbert's
Great Service in its Behalf— The Strength of the Present Navy—
An Occurrence During the Discussion of Naval Appropriations —
"Private" John Allen's Stinging Rebuke — The Question of
Patronage a Perplexing One — To the Victors Belong the Spoils.
The South was greatly alarmed in the Fifty-first Con
gress over the prospect of the passage of a Force Bill, or
bill to regulate and control Federal elections in the Southern
States. President Harrison in his first Message to Con
gress, December 3d, 1889, recommended strongly the pass
age of such a measure. He declared "that in many parts
of our country where the colored population is large the
people of that race are by various devices deprived of any
effective exercise of their political rights and of many of
their civil rights. The wrong does not expend itself upon
those whose rights are suppressed. Every constituency is
wronged." He earnestly invoked the attention of Congress
to the consideration of such measures as would insure to the
colored voters the free exercise of the right of suffrage and
every other civil right under the Constitution. He claimed
that the Federal Government could take the whole direction
and control of the election of members of the House of Rep
resentatives into its own hands. He insisted that the colored
man should be protected by Federal legislation, even as a
traveler upon interstate railways.
The message was regarded by the Southern members as
recommending that the Federal elections in their States
should be taken away from their own State election officials
and put under the management, direction, and control of
Federal officials, supported by Federal troops; and it was
3OO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
regarded by the Democratic party as in opposition to the
sovereign rights of the States to conduct their own elections
by their own election officials, free from the presence of
Federal bayonets.
The Fifty-first Congress was Republican and the message
exerted a strong influence upon even the most conserva
tive members of the party, and a "Force Bill" was finally
introduced, and under the new rules of the House, framed,
as Speaker Reed declared, "so the House could do business,"
was ultimately passed, but it failed in the Senate, through
dilatory tactics resorted to by the Democratic Senators.
Then the Southern people breathed easier. The next two
Houses were Democratic, and of course no "Force Bill" was
introduced in either, and since the Republicans returned to
power no such measure has ever been seriously suggested so
far as I have heard ; and now the sentiment and conditions
have so changed that this menace to the South's rights,
peace, and happiness no longer exists in the most remote
degree.
For the defeat of the measure in the Senate the credit is
due more to Senator Gorman, of Maryland, and Senator
Stewart, of Nevada, than to any other two or more Sena
tors. The tact and skill of Senator Gorman was superb,
and the part played by Senator Stewart was masterly. To
them the South should indeed be grateful.
As a party the Democrats were opposed to a strong Navy,
which necessarily meant heavy expenditure of money. The
Republicans were very much like the Democrats. The coun
try was at peace and no foreign complications were antici
pated. This was the condition when President Cleveland
was inaugurated in 1885, and it continued for several years.
Our Navy had always been weak, and yet American sail
ors had scored victories and achieved glory and showed
their prowess whenever they had been pitted against a for
eign foe. In 1797, fearing war with France, Congress au
thorized the construction of the Constitution, United States,
and Constellation, and the purchase of a limited number of
other vessels. When the War of 1812 broke out our vessels
THE FORCE; BILL — THE NAVY — PATRONAGE 301
did not exceed twenty, of them only three first-class frigates
— the Constitution, the President, and the United States;
England had eight hundred and thirty. With what pride
we recall the achievements of America's little Navy in that
war.
In 1819 our Navy was largely increased, and a resolution
was passed directing the naming of the ships of the line after
the States, frigates after the rivers, and sloops of war after
the cities and towns of our country, and the whole Navy
was divided into four squadrons.
In the Mexican War our Navy blockaded Vera Cruz and
forced the port of San Juan de Alloa into submission, and
seized Monterey and Los Angeles. When the War between
the States commenced the Union Navy consisted of forty
vessels, but they proved worthless with their wooden con
struction when under the fire of the modern long-range and
heavy-calibre guns, and in combating such vessels as the
iron-clad Virginia, whose record shines on the brightest
pages of naval warfare.
The turretted ironclad and monitor sprang from Union
necessities. Southern ports had to be blockaded and new
and stronger vessels had to be constructed to face the fire
of modern guns and cope with vessels like the Virginia.
The rapidity with which improved vessels were built and
put afloat was marvelous. The Union Navy grew from
forty vessels of inferior order at the commencement of hos
tilities to over six hundred vessels, seventy-five of them
ironclads, when the Confederacy fell from exhaustion in re
sources and men.
This rapid preparation of a navy when the necessities of
the Civil War demanded it was used as an argument against
large naval appropriations, but when analyzed it was no ar
gument at all. The South had no navy with which to carry
on an offensive warfare. If the United States had been en
gaged with a real naval power her ports would have been
blockaded, her navy-yards destroyed, and her seacoast cities
and towns battered into ruins before she could have started
to construct a navy.
302 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
But while Congress was allowing the matter of our naval
defenses to drift along in a most careless manner, the Demo
cratic Secretary of the Navy, Hon. William C. Whitney, in
1885 realized the importance of strengthening the Navy,
and he began quietly to strain every nerve and avail himself
of every means at his command to that end. About the
close of his term the sentiment in regard to naval appro
priations changed in great measure; the naval contingent,
composed of a few Democrats and a few Republicans, were
gladdened by many accessions to their ranks, and they be
came bolder and more aggressive in their fight. Finally,
when President Cleveland's second term was ushered in he
named Hon. Hilary A. Herbert as Secretary of the Navy,
and in him the Navy had a strong, fast, and untiring friend.
He threw himself forward boldly as an advocate of a larger
and improved navy, and during his term great strides were
made in preparing this country for aggression and defense
on the seas. This was not done too soon, as subsequent
events proved. Herbert improved the personnel of the sail
ors — the men behind the guns; he required much target-
practice, and the marksmanship of our men in Dewey's im
mortal feat, and Sampson's or Schley's achievement off San
tiago attest the wisdom of Herbert's administration of the
affairs of his high office.
The American Navy now consists of about two hundred
and sixty vessels of all kinds; she has battleships of the
first and second classes, first-rate armored cruisers, first and
second-rate protected cruisers, gunboats, harbor-defense
rams, dispatch-boats, dynamite cruisers, torpedo boats, tugs,
receiving and sailing vessels. She has perhaps one hundred
and seventy-five effective fighting vessels. But her Navy is
but an infant in size in comparison with many of the navies
of the world, and it seems to me that every American pa
triot should wish to see his country the mistress of the seas,
not as a mere matter of National pride, but as an assurance
of National safety, peace, and tranquillity. On land we can
defy the combined powers ; let us be able to defend our sea
THE FORCE BIU, — THE NAVY — PATRONAGE 303
coast, and wage an aggressive war in any part of the globe,
when our rights require it or our honor demands it.
With the patriotism, martial pride, and esprit de corps of
our people, and the inspiring spirit of our women ; with the
millions who would spring to their guns at the first tap of
the drum or first bugle blast ; with our facilities for moving
and mobilizing armies and our unlimited resources, no army
that could be organized could penetrate our country by land
to do us any material harm. Any foe would be doomed the
moment it got beyond the protection of its men-of-war, and
would be welcomed to a hospitable grave.
We may retrench in army expenses, for millions of men
for land defense could be raised as fast as their names could
be enrolled, from every section, for there are no geograph
ical lines of patriotism now ; but let us have no parsimony or
cheese paring in our naval appropriations. God grant we
may live in peace with all nations, but let us be prepared for
any emergency. War is horrible, and should be undertaken
as the last resort. It is at best demoralizing; it leaves an
army of cripples and an army of widows and orphans; it
destroys homes and firesides and fills a land with sorrow
and mourning. A giant navy will almost surely avert these
evils. Let us have it.
In connection with the discussion on the floor of Congress
of one of the naval appropriation bills there was an occur
rence which will here bear relating.
A Northern Republican member, whose name I shall
withhold, as he has gone to that bourne from whence no
traveler returns, was socially a most agreeable gentleman,
but a most extreme and violent partisan. In his advocacy
of a bill on a particular occasion relating to naval expendi
tures he opened the phials of his wrath upon the Southern
members, charging them with disloyalty, and denouncing
them as rebels. It was a speech characteristic of the man.
He was instantly replied to by Hon. John Allen, of Miss
issippi, or "Private" John Allen, as he styled himself.
He referred to the fact that he had been a Confederate
304 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
soldier, entering the Army when he was quite young, and
serving until Johnston surrendered.
"It was," said he, "perhaps a youthful indiscretion in me,
still I stuck at it until all was lost. Then a comrade and I
started home, and after traveling some days it occurred to
us that we were not doing right; that home was not the
place for us while there was an armed Confederate force in
the field, and we should go to Kirby Smith, west of the
Mississippi. Still we had a hankering for home. Leisurely
we wended our way, debating what to do. Finally we saw
an old countryman just ahead of us, sitting on a log in his
shirt sleeves, with one gallows across his left shoulder and
an old straw hat partly concealing his auburn locks.
"We approached him, submitted our trouble to him, and
asked his advice. The old fellow expressed the opinion that
the war was over and advised us to go home, get to work,
and do the best we could. He then said : 'Boys, this here
war has been a awful war. Think of the blood that's been
spilt, and the men that's been kilt, and the money that's been
spent. It's jist awful. But, boys, do you know what trou
bles me more'n all them things? It's jist this, that arter a
while some d — d fools will be crying rebels at us/ ' The
House rang with laughter; the member who had been roll
ing the word "rebel" around his tongue like a sweet morsel
stood writh a scowl on his handsome face. Allen's features
never changed ; he never smiled, but as soon as order was
restored he said : "Mr. Speaker, I have simply related this
circumstance so fixed in my memory. I make no applica
tion of it. I have nothing more to say."
The rebuke was most telling, and made the use of the
word "rebel" far less frequent by the member than it had
previously been during his long service.
There is nothing more perplexing or troublesome in offi
cial life than the power to bestow political favors or appoint
to positions, commonly called patronage.
Patronage is an element of weakness in a party, and equal
ly so in a candidate. In every election the hope of reward
for party service is the incentive to many to exert them-
THE FORCE; BIUU — THE NAVY — PATRONAGE 305
selves for a party or a candidate. These men give their
support for what they expect or hope to get out of it. Prin
ciples rest lightly on their shoulders; they change their
faith as quickly as a chameleon changes its colors, when to
do so is to their personal advantage. They stand high in
their own estimation; their influence, they assert, is most
valuable; they know all the tricks, short cuts, ways and
means of securing votes; they are adepts in the fine art of
politics; they know it all; their services are absolutely es
sential to success. Every public man is familiar with this
class, and they are difficult to deal with, hold them to you
and preserve your own self-respect. If the party or candi
date is victorious, and there is any patronage to bestow, they
buzz around the appointing power like bees around their
hive. If there are six places to give out there will be many
times that number of applicants, and when they are be
stowed there are six self-satisfied fellows with no thanks,
each feeling that he is not under any obligations, that he
won on his merits, got nothing but what he deserved; on
the other hand there will be treble the number of disgruntled
fellows, each declaring he had been treated badly, deceived,
betrayed, and heaping their anathemas upon the party or
upon him who is the object of their wrath.
There is another class who are guided in their party af
filiations by principles, and fight for their ascendency be
cause they believe them to be right, and no failure to receive
political favor or preferment can affect their earnestness or
fidelity. They are high men, yet in many instances if they
fail to receive the recognition which they feel they deserve
at the hands of him in whom the power of appointment is
vested, they become disgruntled, and from that day forward,
though loyal to their party they are at enmity with the offi
cial who did not recognize their claims over those of many
who occupied as elevated a plane as themselves; in rare
instances they become luke-warm toward the party, and
while they will vote the party ticket, they will not exert
themselves in its behalf.
20
306 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
But there is still another class, and they constitute the
mainstay of a party, who are party men at all hazards, and
no failure to receive favors, or to reach the acme of their
ambition, or to secure party recognition ever daunts them or
cools their ardor.
Now I believe that party success should carry with it all
reasonable party favors; that " to the victors belong the
spoils," using the term in its proper sense. In a politicial
battle, as well as in a battle of arms, the victors should have
the positions and offices of the vanquished, just as a victor
ious army should have the stores and supplies of its defeated
foe, with this difference, that the successful political party
should first consider the welfare of the Government before
seizing the positions and offices for party use. There are
many positions in the departments at Washington whose in
cumbents should not be removed, whether they have affili
ated with the incoming party or not. Their qualifications
have been acquired through years of service, and the inter
ests of the whole people should not be imperilled by their
displacement. But where removal can be safely made, then
I think they should be filled by men in sympathy with the
party in power and who aided in bringing it victory.
I am an advocate of the Civil Service Rules to the extent
I have stated, but no further. Care should be taken to se
cure competency, and the effort should be confined to the
ranks of the dominant party ; but never remove a competent
man to put an incompetent man in, I care not which party is
in power.
CHAPTER XI
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES.
The Varied Attainments of Members — S. S. Cox the most Versatile
man with whom I served — J. Randolph Tucker a Close Second —
"Tim" Tarsney and John Allen Swap Anecdotes — John S. Barbour
and D. B. Culberson — Isador Raynor — Benjamin Btitterworth —
David B. Henderson — Joseph D. Sayers — John Dalzell — Charles H.
Grosvenor — Henry G. Turner — James D. Richardson — William P.
Hepburn — Charles E. Hooker — Sereno Payne — Daniel N. Lockwood
and John DeWitt Warner — Joseph Wheeler — John A. Hemphill — A
"Rough Diamond"— W. H. F. Lee— W. L. Wilson— Henry St.
George Tucker — William A. Jones — Paul C. Edmunds — Connally F.
Trigg — Thomas Croxton — Edward C. Venable — Posey G. Lester —
Joseph D. Brady — James F. Epes — George E. Bowden — James W.
Marshall— Claude A. Swanson— John G. Carlisle— What I Think
of Freedom of Speech.
In my opinion we can justly claim that the Congress of
the United States is the ablest parliamentary or law-making
body in the world. The abilities of its members are as di
verse as possible ; they run in every channel.
The constitutional lawyer, the common law and statutory
lawyer, the commercial lawyer, the mining lawyer, the bank
lawyer, the railroad lawyer, the real estate lawyer, the cor
poration lawyer, the criminal lawyer, the maritime lawyer,
the country practitioner of medicine and surgery and the
specialist in every branch of materia medica and surgery;
presidents and other officials of corporations, manufacturers
and miners, timber dealers, seafaring men, mercantile men,
agriculturists, financiers, college professors and scientists,
men of every avocation and calling in this land, whose inter
ests are as various as sea-shore shells, are found upon the
floor of Congress. What a store-house of general knowl
edge is the Congress of the United States, all its members
coming from the people, each representing the sentiments
and views of his particular constituency? In that body of
such diversified knowledge will always be found men fully
308 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
armed and equipped upon a moment's notice to discuss any
subject in the mighty realm of thought.
Most of them, of course, have their specialties ; some their
"hobbies" ; some are broader and more liberal than others ;
some more versatile than others; but as a rule they are
strong and able men, and there is something in each that has
attracted his people to him and elevated him above the plane
of his fellows. The accidental man is not often seen.
The most versatile man with whom I served was surely
Samuel S. Cox, of New York. He was always ready; he
could speak with credit upon any general subject without a
moment's preparation, and he could make his speech so as to
accord with the demands of the occasion or of his party.
He could be logical, invective, pathetic or humorous, or
he could combine all in a single speech. He could roll off
figures and statistics with accuracy at will. His command
of language was wonderful ; he never lacked for a word to
clearly express an idea. He never showed temper. His
face always beamed with pleasantry and cheerfulness. He
lived in the sunshine and never in the shadows of life. He
was quick at repartee, and his arrow usually hit the mark,
but never was it pointed with malice.
No person would even attempt to approximate the num
ber who have read his book, "Why we Laugh," with exquis
ite delight. In telling us why we laugh, he keeps us laugh
ing.
Next to Samuel S. Cox in versatility, and a close match
for him, was J. Randolph Tucker, of Virginia, of whom I
spoke briefly in the early part of these reminiscences. Mr.
Tucker was recognized as an authority on constitutional
law ; besides he was thoroughly equipped in all branches of
the law. He was peculiarly gifted in the art of jury prac
tise. He was a fine judge of human nature, and could read
with almost unerring certainty the character, idiosyncrasies,
whims and caprices of men.
His amiability, courtesy, and kindness toward all made
him universally popular in the House of Representatives,
and every member was personally fond of him, while his
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 309
profound legal learning commanded for him the respect
and admiration of all, regardless of political faith.
Like Mr. Cox, he was brimful of humor and pathos, and
I have seen him on the hustings have his audience alternat
ing all through his speech between laughter and tears, mer
riment and thoughtfulness. Perfect order prevailed on the
floor of the House of Representatives whenever he spoke,
except when it rang with laughter or echoed with applause.
Of John Allen, of Mississippi, as a humorist, I need
scarcely write. His reputation is coextensive with the boun
daries of this land. His sayings, hits, and witticisms have
brought mirth to readers by the tens of thousands, and have
been used "to point a moral or adorn a tale" by thousands
of rostrum orators. In the Presidential election of 1892,
I think, he and "Tim" Tarsney, of Michigan, accompanied
me to Charlottesville to speak at a large gathering of the
people.
Tarsney, who was a most captivating stumper, delighted
his hearers. He had been a Federal soldier and was for a
time a prisoner at Belle Isle, Richmond, and before him
were hundreds of Confederate veterans.
Without making a recantation or singing a palinode, he
spoke of the fratricidal strife in a manner that made him
the hero of the occasion, and made the "Old Confeds" al
most shout their lungs away, and when he concluded, his
reception at the hands of the "boys" who had worn the
gray was as spontaneous and warm as I have ever seen
given to any speaker in my long political life. Allen fol
lowed him in a characteristic speech, and the meeting closed,
figuratively speaking, with the sky filled with rockets and
the air with shouts and cheers for Cleveland and Democracy.
In his speech Allen referred to his district as a district so
black that "in any gathering a white man looked like a peeled
onion in a tar barrel."
He gave an account of his first canvass for a political of
fice, — district attorney, — in which an old colored orator,
who was his friend, appeared on the platform with him at
a certain point "where there were acres of negroes and not
3IO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
a white man before him." He said he spoke eloquently of
his legal learning, his knowledge of Blackstone and every
authority since Blackstone's days, his acknowledged virtues
and fitness for the high office, his determination to do his
duty, his whole duty and nothing but his duty, and closed
by appealing to every voter to exercise his free-born right
as a sovereign American citizen by voting for him.
When he took his seat his colored friend and orator arose
with great dignity and said :
"My bredren an' sisterns : It was my purpus w'en I 'com-
panied my beloved frien', who I played wid w'en we was
boys, an' went a fishin' an' a coon huntin' wid — I say, my
bredrens an' sisterns, w'en I cum here dis lubly night under
dem stars dat shine out above us, it was my intenshun to
make a speech fer my frien' ; but my bredrens an' sisterns,
my dear frien' has recommended hisself so much higher dan
I kin recommend him, I thinks I had better be n'utral on dis
here occasion. But I want to say, my bredrens an' sisterns,
befo' I take my seat, dat I'se gwine to vote fer my frien',
fer he knows moren about Blackshine an' all dem fellows
who lay down de law to us, dan any man I knows of in dis
free land of liberty."
Allen was elected.
As we were all returning to Washington the next day,
Tarsney, who was a good story-teller, and Allen were
cracking jokes, when soon after we struck the Manassas
Country, Allen said : "Look here, Tim, once in the long
ago we gray-backs made a lot of you blue- jackets git up and
git through these fields and pine woods. Were you with
them?" Tarsney replied he was. "Well, Tim," said
Allen, "an Irishman who was with us found a blue-jacket on
the side of one of these roads, and he told the Irishman he
was wounded in the leg, and appealed to him to carry him
to some place of safety. The Irishman, in the bigness of his
soul, gathered the 'Yank' up on his back and went tugging
along as best he could, when a cannon-ball knocked the
Yank's head off without the Irishman knowing anything
about it.
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME) INSTANCES 3! I
"Directly some gray-back said, 'Pat, what are you carry
ing that dead man for?' Pat replied, 'He isn't dead.' 'But
he is dead; he has no head.' 'The divil you say!' cried
Pat as he threw the headless man from his back. Then,
eyeing the lifeless form for a moment, Pat exclaimed : 'Did
ye ever see the loike of him? The darned bugger decayed
me ; he told me he was only shot in the leg !' '
The two wisest men in the House during my extended
service were John S. Barbour, of Virginia, and David B.
Culberson, of Texas; there were others who approached
them, but there were none who equaled them. There were
men of more learning, more general information — men of
more brilliancy and more attractiveness, but none safer,
sounder, or steadier. Barbour was not a speaker on his
feet, but around a committee table, where business is really
mapped out, measures deliberately discussed, and bills ma
turely considered, or in the council chamber, he was a power.
Then his mind worked, his reasoning faculties were aroused,
and his judgment was acute.
Culberson was a speaker of great force, but he was sel
dom heard; yet whenever heard, he had the closest
attention. The House would hang upon his words, for they
were instructive and weighty. He was not as energetic as
Barbour, who was all energy; he was disposed to take his
ease and much of his time was spent in the retiring-room,
but there he always had an audience, and in the most non
chalant manner he was constantly "throwing off great
chunks of wisdom," as some member expressed it, for others
to take up and utilize.
He had been in his younger days a great criminal lawyer,
and had defended perhaps more men charged with murder
than any lawyer living within the last fifty years, and it was
said that not one he had ever defended was hung. The re
tort of the doctor when told by a lawyer that "a doctor
buried all of his mistakes," that "the mistakes of a lawyer
often dangled at the end of a rope," could not have been
made to this distinguished Texas representative.
312 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
I would rather have submitted a grave question to the
judgment of John S. Barbour and David B. Culberson, with
the power to call in an umpire in case of disagreement, such
as they might have selected, rather than to any committee
that has ever existed in the House of Representatives.
Both of these wise men have passed from the scenes and
turmoils of this life, we trust to that abode "where everlast
ing suns shed everlasting brightness."
From my memorial address on the life and character of
John S. Barbour, delivered on the 25th day of February,
1892, I quote as follows:
Mr. Speaker, it has been my good fortune to meet and mingle with
many of the men who in the last two decades or more have brightened
the pages of our country's history, imprinted themselves upon the
minds and hearts of the people, set examples worthy of emulation, and
carved their names in the niches of enduring fame. Some have been
orators who captivated the affections and swayed the passions of the
people ; some have been logicians leading us step by step down into the
well where truth is found and then raising us to the surface full armed
to meet the sophistries and heresies with which the world abounds ;
some have dazzled with their genius in the domain of literature or the
arts and sciences; some have shone with meteoric brilliancy in the
walks of humanity and the broad field of a common brotherhood, ex
tending their sympathies in an ever-widening circle; some have risen
to heights of glory on land and sea and drawn forth peans and praises
for their courage and skill, devotion and patriotism in the dread arena
of war, and some while neither orators, logicians, men of letters nor
science, philanthropists nor warriors, have combined within themselves
qualities of mind and heart which made society transcendently better
because they were members of it, the Republic far better because they
were citizens of it, and the world much better because they lived in it,
and in this class stood John S. Barbour, high in rank, the equal of the
loftiest, the peer of the noblest. * * *
Death, "the golden key that opens the palace of eternity," came to
him in May last, in the early morning when the air was redolent with
the perfume of flowers and musical with the lays of the birds, and
when nature seemed to be inviting all to live and be joyous.
Messages on electric wings flew throughout the domain of Virginia,
and the joy and gladness of that May morn were turned to sadness
and sorrow, and hearts were made to bleed, and eyes were made to
moisten.
Recently the legislature of Maryland elected to a seat in
the Senate of the United States a gentleman who as a mem
ber of Congress stood among the brainiest of the brainy men
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 313
of that brainy body. His brilliant career since has been no
surprise to those who observed his strong points years ago.
Combined with a well-rounded character, he was a most in
defatigable worker, and a speaker of supreme dash and mag
netism, and of great force and eloquence. He was classed
among the orators of the House and among the most valu
able members. I speak of Hon. Isador Raynor.
In my opinion the lamented Benjamin Butter worth, of
Ohio, was the most attractive and forceful debater on the
Republican side of the chamber during my service. I heard
him on different occasions engaged in debates with Repub
licans on non-political, and with Democrats on party ques
tions, and he either achieved a decisive victory or inflicted
as much injury upon his opponent as he himself received.
He was of Virginia lineage on his maternal side, and always
had a kind word for the State that had given birth to her
"who had taught him to pray, and venerate the soil in whose
bosom rested the dust of his elder maternal ancestors." His
mother was of Quaker descent and was born near "Hope-
well," an old Quaker meeting-house in Frederick County,
around which there was hard fighting on the day of the
Winchester battle between Sheridan and Early. Virginia's
representatives had his friendship, and his aid too, whenever
he could consistently give it.
David B. Henderson, of Iowa, late Speaker, was to me
an exceedingly picturesque and attractive member. With a
war record to be admired and a boldness and pleasant ag
gressiveness that were attractive, standing upon one leg, the
other having been left on some battle-field, with a face that
showed courage, yet beamed with generosity, with a voice
distinctly audible in all parts of the hall, never indulging in
abuse of "rebels," always recognizing the rights of the mi
nority and not attempting to drive them to the wall by
sheer force of numbers, he secured my admiration and re
spect, and I rejoiced when the Speaker's gavel fell to him in
the Fifty-seventh Congress.
Joseph D. Sayers, of Texas, was a man whom it was
necessary to know to appreciate his true worth. He was
314 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
plain and unassuming, modest almost to a fault, gentle in
manner and amiable in disposition. There was nothing
showy about him. Inch by inch, almost, at first he advanced,
then step by step he moved forward, and began to attract
attention quietly and smoothly forge his way to the front
and make himself felt. In the Fifty-second Congress, I
think, he was appointed a member of the Committee on Ap
propriations, and he soon became a leader in this important
committee that held the purse-strings of the Nation. He
had everything at his fingers' ends. He sustained the posi
tion with facts and figures, and whenever he got through
hammering an appropriation item it usually had little life
left in it. He saved the country millions and prevented
many a raid upon the treasury by his tireless energy and
ceaseless vigilance. When he retired from Congress to ac
cept gubernatorial honors the House lost one of its most
valuable members.
There was no more astute, wide-awake member than John
Dalzell, of Pennsylvania, particularly whenever any measure
affecting the coal or iron interests was before the House
He was thoroughly posted upon everything connected with
these interests, from the "black diamond" and crude ores in
their native beds to the merchantable article of the one and
the finished product of the other ; the mantle of William D.
Kelley seemed to have fallen upon his shoulders, and he
wore it most worthily. He naturally preferred that coal and
iron should be let alone after satisfactory tariff duties were
placed upon them, but he never avoided a contest, but would
take up the gage whenever it was thrown down.
A ready, vigorous, and rough-and-tumble fighter was
Charles H. Grosvenor, of Ohio. He was a man of intellec
tual power, and was apparently irritable and ill-tempered;
he always looked, when he was engaged in making one of
his characteristic fiery, peppery efforts, as though he was
ready to execute his opponent without the benefit of clergy;
but it was only his way, and while a stranger would have
thought he was a regular fire-eater, his associates knew that
it was only a surface display, and that his real nature was
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 315
just the opposite of what it seemed to be when he was firing
his broadsides and jarring the pillars of the Capitol with his
cannonading.
Henry G. Turner, of Georgia, was among the giants of
the body. He was a deep thinker and went to the bottom
of every measure he discussed. He seldom occupied the
floor, but whenever he did he commanded the utmost atten
tion. He spoke with earnestness, with scrupulous regard
for the facts, confined himself closely to the subject, and
never lugged in any extrinsic matter. He hewed to the
line, made no attempt at rhetorical flourishes, but with a
well-modulated voice, pure English, and sledge-hammer
blows he attracted all, confirmed those who were inclined his
way, and converted many a dissentient.
In the Presidential campaign of 1896 he declared his dis
agreement with the free-silver plank of the National Demo
cratic platform, and while his people were willing to return
him to Congress, notwithstanding his anti-free-silver views,
he declined a re-election, upon the high ground that a rep
resentative should be in accord with the political views of
his party. Thus, constant to his convictions, and firm in the
right, as he saw it, he cast aside the proffered honor and
voluntarily retired to the shades and walks of private life.
Recently his death cast the mantle of sorrow over the State
that loved him so well.
James D. Richardson, of Tennessee, entered Con
gressional life in the Forty-ninth Congress and was soon
recognized as a most industrious, energetic, and vigilant rep
resentative. Gradually he developed into an active and well-
equipped debater.
His very tall and slender figure made him a marked man
on the floor, and his uniform Prince Albert suit of black and
smooth face gave him the appearance of a clergyman rather
than a lawmaker. Since the days of my association with
him he has won more golden honors, and has been the Dem
ocratic leader in the House, a distinction second only to that
of Speaker — in fact he would have held this exalted posi-
316 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
tion if his party had been in the majority instead of the
minority.
William P. Hepburn, of Iowa, was a strong and faithful
servant of his people. Socially he was pleasant and com
panionable, but from the time "silence" was commanded in
the morning until adjournment in the evening, like the pro
verbial Irishman, he carried a chip on his head and invited
any Democrat to knock it off.
He was always pugnacious, and would lose his lunch or
even a dining any day to have a "scrap" with a Democrat,
particularly if the Democrat happened to be a "rebel" in the
long years gone by, but who, though never lowering his
manhood by begging pardon or admitting he was wrong,
was as loyal to the flag of the Union as the bravest who
fought under it. Personally I liked Hepburn, and I took an
occasional stroll with him, and I often regretted that he
could not be his real self on the floor.
The most courtly member was Charles E. Hooker, of
Mississippi. He was all urbanity. Always neatly attired,
with his splendid face and graceful manner, his empty sleeve
attesting his courage in the tempest of shot and shell, and
usually displaying his taste for the beautiful in nature by
wearing a boutonniere of his favorite flower, the rose, a
stranger rarely entered the gallery without inquiring who
he was before leaving.
He was highly cultured and a polished orator, and often
have I listened with rapture to his flashes of rhetoric and
flights of eloquence. But his oratory was of that order that
clothed strong points and arguments in beauty — he made
dull facts and figures attractive.
The Romans heard the oratory of Cicero without material
results ; the Athenians heard Demosthenes, and when he
finished they were breathing revenge and exclaiming, "Let
us go and fight against Philip !"
Sereno Payne, of New York, gave promise of the wide
and well-earned distinction he has since attained.
He was a full, suave, well-poised man; alert, energetic,
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME) INSTANCES 317
and earnest. He was discreet and diplomatic, and was a val
ued lieutenant of Speaker Reed in all party emergencies.
Daniel N. Lockwood and John DeWitt Warner, of New
York, were representatives worthy of their State, and if they
had not tired so soon of Congressional life they would have
become shining lights. They were both men of splendid
mental power and were capable of holding their own in de
bate with the ablest.
I knew Mr. Lockwood better than I knew Mr. Warner,
as Mr. Lockwood was a member of the Committee on Elec
tions, of which I was chairman, and besides I sat by him
in the Fifty-second Congress. His judgment was sound ; in
counsel he was safe. He had the courage of his convictions
and nothing could swerve him from the course he had de
liberately marked out. Though a Democrat "through and
through/' he voted to unseat the contestee — a Democrat
from his own State — in the celebrated case of Noyes versus
Rockwell, heretofore noticed. The pressure upon him was
immense, but it made no impression upon him, and he dared
to do his duty as he understood it.
I must refer to Joseph Wheeler, of Alabama, but it would
seem to be supererogation, for the deeds and fame of Gen
eral Wheeler reach to the farthest limit of this Republic.
But they are his military deeds and martial fame. I shall
write briefly of his Congressional service. His attention
to the wants of his constituents was unequaled. From his
own pocket he supplied his entire district with public books,
documents, and seeds. When his own quota was exhausted
he bought until his supply was ample for all the demands
of his district. He was the best letter writer in Congress;
every letter his mail brought, however simple, received a re
ply. His energy and activity were boundless. He was
never in one place for any length of time unless from neces
sity. He kept well up with matters of legislation, took part
frequently in the debates, and his speeches bore evidence of
hard study and rigid research. He possessed much origi
nality of thought, and never hesitated to combat a time-
honored principle or attack an ancient, deeply-rooted doc-
318 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
trine, if he believed they were founded upon false premises
or had outlived their day. He was not a popular speaker;
his voice was weak, and he lacked the grace and manner of
those who can hold multitudes within their grasp, tickle the
ear, and convince the judgment. But his speeches were
well prepared, and read well; they abounded in strength,
and were always instructive.
Among the ablest, most attractive, and promising younger
members during my service was John A. Hemphill, of
South Carolina. He was a fine lawyer, a quick, ready, fluent
and dashing debater, with a clear, ringing, and musical
voice. To hear him once when stirred and animated whet
ted the desire to hear him again. He was a hard student, a
worthy representative of the cultured and chivalrous peo
ple he represented, and if he had not retired he would have
reaped honors fast and thick.
There was a member from a distant State whose name I
shall not mention for reasons that will hereafter appear, who
was every inch a man, but "a rough diamond." When he
was elected to Congress he knew little of the world outside
of his district, and nothing of the more modern ways of city
life. Upon reaching Washington he was picked up at the
depot by a porter and conducted to about a fourth-class
hotel. Comparing it to the country taverns in his rural dis
trict, the hotel was a snug place indeed for him, and entirely
satisfactory. The proprietor, learning he was a Congress
man, got him to write M. C. at the end of his name when
he registered.
A newspaper reporter dropped in during the evening, and
discovering the name of , M. C., on the register,
knew that he must be a member "from a backwoods dis
trict," as he afterwards expressed it, and he determined "to
write him up" ; so in a day or two he wrote and published
in a morning paper a story to the following effect : "Hon
orable , M. C. [giving his name] , stopped on his
arrival in the city at Hotel . He retired early, as is
his custom. The next morning, very early, the servants
smelt escaping gas, and they traced it to the parlors occupied
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 319
by Honorable , M. C. After pounding for some
time upon the door of the distinguished guest, he appeared
at the door en deshabille, and in stentorian tones demanded
to know what they wanted. They informed him that gas
was escaping in his rooms, and asked him if he didn't smell
it. The Honorable M. C. replied, 'Why, I have been smell
ing that smell all night, and I have been waiting for the
sun to rise, so I could get up, pay my bill, and leave the
d — d stinking house. You say it's gas. Well, I never smelt
such a smell before in my life/ The Honorable M. C. had
blown the gas out when he retired, and the wonder is that
the State of [giving the State] is not minus a member
this morning. Moral : Don't send a man to Congress who
doesn't know better than to blow out the gas."
The whole story was a miserable fabrication, yet it caused
much merriment among certain classes. The old M. C. was
aroused beyond measure. He denounced the story as false,
but kept his future intentions to himself. He ascertained
quietly the name of the reporter, but it was several months
before he met him ; then he was pointed out by a friend, in
the lobby of the Capitol, and the result was the reporter re
ceived such a chastisement that the newspaper he repre
sented was either minus a reporter or had to employ a sub
stitute for some time.
The next morning the old M. C. was summoned before
the Police Court, confessed the assault, and was fined $25
and costs, which he instantly paid. As he left the court hall
he remarked : "Well, I am glad the thing is all over. If I
hadn't thrashed that fellow I would never have gone back
to my district. I don't begrudge the money I have paid, but
the judges in my State don't administer justice that way."
From that moment he was a noted man. He served his
people faithfully and was re-elected for a second term. He
had been a soldier in the "War of the Rebellion," and many
stories were told of his coolness and gallantry in action.
I have spoken of Colonel Charles E. Hooker as the most
courtly member, but I should have excepted Hon. William
H. F. Lee, of Virginia, son of the immortal commander of
320 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
the Army of Northern Virginia. General Lee was a very
large man, much larger than his illustrious father. He was
a born gentleman, and had of course been reared in an at
mosphere of culture and refinement. He was a strikingly
handsome man, tall, erect, and in height several inches over
six feet. He was a lovable man, and the people of his dis
trict, which was immediately opposite Washington, were
devoted to him. He was faithful to every duty, and to such
an extent as to break down his health by overwork, causing
his premature death.
He was a pleasant talker, and there was not a member on
the floor who would have made a caustic reply to anything
he might have said ; in fact, he was so gentle and moderate
in speech as never to irritate or provoke a sharp retort. He
had in his district an Episcopal Seminary, from which a
vast number of young ministers had walked forth to become
in after years distinguished divines. The Seminary suf
fered severely in the destruction of, or damage to, its build
ings during the war. General Lee introduced a bill to reim
burse it for its losses, and the bill came up for consideration
upon a favorable report ; the Democrats generally favored it,
but the General, fearing that the Republicans would oppose
it, quietly and with dignity walked to the center of their side,
and made his speech in behalf of his bill directly to them.
They listened attentively and with profound respect. Fi
nally there came an interruption from behind him. A faint
voice was heard : "Will the gentleman from Virginia yield
to a question?" The General turning his head, said in the
most winning manner, "Why certainly." "Was this school
continued during the Rebellion ?" "Yes, as far as possible.
Most of the professors remained there," said the General.
"For whom did those professors pray? Did they pray for
the Unionists or for the Confederates?" The General's
reply was instant, "I do not know ; I never heard them pray,
but they were saintly men, and I presume they prayed for
all sinners, and left the good Lord to say who were the sin
ners."
The whole House applauded, the General continued his
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 321
speech to the end without further interruption, and his bill
passed. He died not long after this, and many handsome
tributes were paid his memory. My feelings prompt me to
put within these covers a portion of my simple tribute to
my dead colleague, and Virginia's lofty son.
Mr. Speaker : The illustrious father of William H. F. Lee, when the
shadows of Appomattox closed round him, when the darkness of defeat
enveloped him, when his soul was rent and torn and his mind was
filled with anguish and his ragged and tired and worn veterans, reduced
to a mere thin skirmish line, the remnant of an army that had shed
unfading luster upon the American arms and the American soldier,
gathered with tear-moistened cheeks about him to bid him farewell
and receive his blessing, gave utterance to a sentiment just quoted by
my colleague (Mr. Tucker), a sentiment as grand and noble as was
ever written upon any Roman tablet or upon any column of enduring
marble ever reared in the flood light of glory —
"Duty is the sublimest word in our language."
^ Yes, Mr. Speaker, thus spoke Robert E. Lee, the soldier, hero, Chris
tian, and philanthropist ; and when we come to study the life and char
acter of William Henry Fitzhugh Lee we are impressed with the fact
that he took duty as his talismanic word, that it was the star that guided
him, and that he followed it as faithfully as the "wise men" followed
"the Star" from the East to Jerusalem and thence to Bethlehem.
* * * * ******
As a representative he was as true to his constitutents as any subject
to his sovereign, laboring in season and out of season to serve them,
and even when his strong frame began to weaken and the germs of
disease had been planted in his system, he disregarded the warning
calls for rest and continued to bend all his energies in the discharge of
his trust, and I but speak the truth when I say that he fell a martyr to
duty.
It would be unpardonable in me if I did not record my
estimate of William Lyne Wilson, of West Virginia.
My friendship and attachment for him in life, and my
love for his memory now that he is dead, may blind me to
faults which others could detect, and yet my superior oppor
tunities for knowing the man and observing his daily walk
and conversation, and my close relations to him — so close as
to hear his heartbeats and feel the throbbing of his pulse —
give me an advantage over any casual or even frequent ob
server. I knew him first as a private in the cavalry squad
ron I commanded in 1862-3. He was a small, smooth-
21
322 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
faced and fair-haired young soldier about my own age. He
was quiet, unostentatious, thoughtful and meditative.
There was nothing in the life of a soldier that was congenial
to his nature. He was in the Army from a sense of duty —
but it was a sense so keen that he would take any chance,
accept any peril, and face any danger as a volunteer and not
simply when ordered. He never sought promotion ; he pre
ferred others to wear the marks of non-commissioned or
commissioned officers. Duty was his guiding star and he fol
lowed it constantly in its course. When Appomattox came
there were more daring records, but not one in which there
was more of unselfish patriotism and fidelity to duty. He
studied law and rapidly climbed the ladder of his profession.
When about forty he entered Congress (we entered to
gether), and from the day of his entrance forward he rose
step by step, until the Fifty-second Congress, when he was
appointed chairman of the important Committee on Ways
and Means. From this committee came the bill known as
"The Wilson Tariff Bill," and he closed the discussion of it
to a thronged House and gallery, to the delight of the Dem
ocrats and the admiration of the Republicans. It was a
great speech. Though the subject was a hackneyed one and
had been worn into frazzles, he pursued new lines and by his
fine choice of language and striking illustrations he gave a
freshness to the old subject that drew applause every few
minutes during his long effort, and when he closed and the
House adjourned, a thousand congratulations, from politi
cal foes as well as friends, were showered upon him.
The vicissitudes of politics forced his retirement from the
Halls of Congress, and he then entered the Cabinet of Presi
dent Cleveland as Postmaster-General, which position he
filled most admirably until the conclusion of Mr. Cleveland's
last term. Then the trustees of Washington and Lee Uni
versity displayed their foresight and wisdom in calling him
to the presidency of that institution. But soon his health,
which had never been robust, failed, and he passed away,
rounding out his well-spent and useful life teaching the
youth of the land, and filling the same chair filled by his
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES 323
commander in war — Robert E. Lee. It is said "every man
has his fault," and William Lyne Wilson may have had his,
but if he had, my finite eye never discovered it. He died
not far past middle age, but
"He who lives well, lives long."
I would stifle my feeling and fail to follow the prompt
ings of my heart if I did not mention at least some of my
immediate colleagues. Among all the State delegations
there was no one more closely united than the Virginia dele
gation in each of the six terms of my service. Lasting ties
were formed, perpetual friendships cemented.
To some of them I have already given space. Others
will now receive from me the tribute my poor pen can be
stow. Henry St. George Tucker inherited in an eminent
degree the talent and characteristics of his distinguished
father, J. Randolph Tucker. He was a fine lawyer, a fluent
and magnetic speaker, always well prepared, and never
failed to acquit himself handsomely in debate. He was
full of spirit, never depressed, wearing at all times a smile
on his face in meeting a friend. His constituents were ex
tremely fond of him, and on the stump he had a style that
inspired and animated his friends without offending or in
tensifying the animosity of his foes.
William A. Jones was as placid as a May morn unless
aroused, when he was as turbulent as a cyclone. He was a
speaker who made no attempt at oratory, but with well-
chosen sentences he aimed his blows with directness and
precision. He was a hard student and worker, and grew
in popularity with his constituents from term to term, until
all opposition disappeared, and he is now the Nestor of his
delegation.
Paul C. Edmunds was a farmer, and was styled "Farmer
Edmunds." He was a worker rather than a speaker, but he
accomplished far more by "his still hunts" than very many
with their brass bands, as he expressed it. He was en
dowed with an abundance of sound sense, and his judgment
was sought by all of us when we were in a state of doubt or
324 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
uncertainty. He was perhaps the most popular man on the
floor, and often were the rules suspended to pass a bill —
simply because it was "Edmunds's bill." He was all jollity
and kindness, and his soul was incapable of harboring re
venge or bearing malice. In the midst of his usefulness he
was cut down. May the grass grow green upon his grave.
Connally F. Trigg was a man of fine appearance — a strik
ing man in any assemblage. He was a forceful speaker;
bold, dashing, and aggressive. He loved the joint dis
cussion on the stump, and the warmer it was the better he
liked it. He would fight to the last ditch, and if he was
ever whipped he never knew it. He was generous with all
of his aggressiveness, magnanimous with all of his pugnac
ity. He was faithful in the discharge of his official duties,
and believed that no district within the expanse of the
Union could compare with the southwestern district of Vir
ginia in the nobility of its people, its agricultural and min
eral wealth — and in my opinion he was not far wrong.
Thomas Croxton was a lawyer of long standing, of great
legal learning, and among the leaders of the State bar. He
was a delightful companion, of elegant manners, and his
language "as chaste as ice, as pure as snow." He had been
prominent in the Democratic party for many years, and was
"Sir Oracle" among his people upon all political questions.
Congressional life was not congenial to him, and his ser
vice was short, but long enough to impress the House with
his fine ability, culture, and force of character. His recent
death brought universal sorrow — to his friends, because
they loved him and knew his worth; and to Virginia, be
cause she felt she had lost a valued and loyal son.
Edward C. Venable, who was unseated in the contest
against him made by the colored Republican, John M. Lang-
ston, was a gentleman of fine attainments, high culture, and
lofty character. In the usual sense of the term he was not
a speaker, but he was strong in conversational debate, and
often have I heard him, in the cloak-room or private circle
in a discussion of important questions, put hors de combat
gentlemen with wide reputation as public speakers. If he
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 325
had retained his seat he would in a short time have become
a most valuable and potential member, especiallv in com
mittee councils.
Elisha E. Meredith was called suddenly from the bar,
where he was enjoying the fruits of a lucrative practise, to
fill a vacancy, but he instantly sprang into notice, and but
for his death, which soon occurred, he would have become
a prominent member. He possessed the elements which
would have led to high rank in the Congressional arena.
Posey G. Lester was a Baptist minister of the "Hard
shell" branch of the church. He had been nominated by
the Democrats because of his great popularity in his "Hard
shell" Republican district, and was elected by a handsome
majority. He was a truly good man and carried his re
ligion into the House with him. His religious faith domi
nated all other things, and never would he break the Sab
bath by remaining in the House after twelve o'clock Satur
day night, however important the measure or however
urgent party necessity. He was a safe, faithful, and con
scientious representative, and had the respect and esteem of
all his Virginia colleagues, as well as all who knew his char
acter and unflinching adherence to the path of right.
Joseph D. Brady was genial and affable, a true and con
stant friend, warm-hearted and generous. Though a
staunch Republican, he was conservative and temperate.
He possessed fine business capacity and clear judgment, and
at the date of his recent death he was the Collector of In
ternal Revenue of the Richmond district, which position he
was filling most satisfactorily to the Government and public.
James F. Epes was true to every duty. He was the very
genius of energy and activity. He had a bright intellect and
was the very soul of honor. He was open, frank, and in
genuous, and despised concealment, disguise, and artfulness.
He was genial and warm in his nature, but with a spirit that
brooked no wrong; a friend to whom you could link your all
with absolute faith, but an enemy to be dreaded when he felt
aggrieved. He was a lawyer and farmer and had been suc
cessful in both vocations, and in Congress he fully measured
326 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
up to the standard of a judicious and faithful representa
tive.
George E. Bowden was a wide-awake representative and
active in behalf of his constituents, whose wants were num
erous during a Republican Administration, and he was ex
ceedingly successful in securing department positions for his
party friends, as he was not only a leader of his party in his
State, but had the ear of the National authorities. He was
an astute politician, but not so partisan in word or manner
as to wound the feelings of his political foes. He is now
the efficient clerk of the Circuit Court of the United States
for the Eastern District of Virginia, sitting at Norfolk, and
is still a light in his party.
James W. Marshall was one of the most remarkable men
of the body in many respects. In his element — which was
when addressing a promiscuous audience of voters in which
there was a preponderance of "the horny-handed sons of
toil" — he was equal to any speaker I have ever heard. His
manner was absolutely unique; in fact, neither in manner,
style, gesture, intonation nor voice did he pattern after any
body ; he was original ; he would quote Scripture,
history, or poetry in his own way; he would tell
a story different from the way anybody else would tell
it; his voice was peculiarly his own, and when he soared
upon the wings of eloquence, real eloquence, he soared
differently from any orator to whom I have ever lis
tened. I repeat, he was and is a remarkable man, for he
still lives. He is a self-made man, as the term is usually
used. His early opportunities were not good. He came
out of the Confederate Army with a splendid record, but
without a cent in his pocket and with gloom and desolation
all around him, but with a courageous heart he went to
work to carve out his own opportunities and he succeeded.
I would be glad to depict his struggles and his victories,
and hold him up as an example of what an American boy
with brain and courage, will and determination can do in
this land of unlimited possibilities. My poor tribute has
been written with a free pen and willing heart. In conclu-
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 327
sion I will only say that his Congressional career was entire
ly creditable; that he was true to his trust, as he had been
to every previous trust.
With the mention of another of my Virginia colleagues
I must conclude my recollections of them and pass to some
other subject.
The colleague to whom I refer was a young man of only
thirty years of age when in 1892 he was elected to Congress
by a handsome majority over his Republican opponent.
He had been prominent in Democratic circles for several
years, and regarded as a "coming" man. As a campaign
speaker he had won encomiums and become popular in his
district, especially among the young men, always a tower
of strength. He succeeded George C. Cabell, of whom I
have written, who had retired from active politics, and
whose place as a representative was hard to fill ; but it was
not long before the young representative began to develop
qualities that bade fair to make him not only a useful but a
notable member on the floor. He was alert and active, and
as industrious as any tiller of the soil who had taken hold
of his plow handles with a firm grip and with a steady pur
pose to plow deep, sow well, and reap a rich harvest. His
habits were exemplary ; his study hours ran into the morn
ing hours; he familiarized himself with the rules and de
tails of the departments and was soon on intimate terms
with their heads. He was simply indefatigable in his
efforts to thoroughly equip himself for the practical part of
his important trust. In the meantime he was studying mat
ters of legislation and the rules governing the House. No
idle bread did he eat ; no time did he lose in frivolity or the
shades of ease. My service with him was short, but not in
all my service did I observe any young member, inex
perienced in legislation and public affairs as he was, develop
more rapidly and go to the front more quickly. He had
within him the metal of a man and the spirit and determina
tion that bring success. Without a break he has continued
in Congress to the present day.
I need hardly call his name — Claude A. Swanson.
328 £ ORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
I find I have traveled far in these reminiscences without
more than a bare allusion to a man who is, I think, univer
sally regarded as ranking high among the foremost states
men of the age. For several terms he presided as Speaker
of the House of Representatives during my service in this
august assemblage.
I refer to John G. Carlisle. He is surely "a heavy
weight" — if I may be pardoned for using a prize-ring ex
pression — in the arena of debate and the forum of intellec
tual giants. He was first elected Speaker of the Forty-eighth
Congress — the Congress in which I made my first appear
ance. As a Speaker he will go down in history as among
the most eminent.
He was just and fair to all ; quick in his rulings, cool at
all times, firm and inflexible. In statecraft and constitu
tional law he displayed a fullness unexcelled. In debate he
made no effort at rhetorical flourishes, indulged in no tropes
or figures, stories or anecdotes, but from beginning to end
ing the sparks flew around him from his blows of logic
like heated metal throws off confiscations when struck by
a Vulcan's hammer. In the discussion of the Morrison
Tariff Bill he was called to speak in its advocacy unexpect
edly. He left the chair and took his position on the floor,
and without even a note before him he spoke for more than
two hours to an entranced and enchained audience that
packed the whole house and galleries. He followed Mr.
Reed, who had spoken in opposition to the bill, and without
disparagement to the effort of Mr. Reed, I simply record
the truth when I declare that in comparison to Mr. Car
lisle's effort Mr. Reed's speech was as a gas jet to an electric
light.
In person Mr. Carlisle was tall and erect ; he had a strong
face, wore no beard, and his step was quick and his move
ments showed great energy and earnestness.
He went down politically under the tidal wave of free
silver in 1896, and strange to say the people of his district,
who had hitherto followed him almost with blind faith,
under a sudden "passionate intuition" rebuked and rebuffed
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 329
him. Since that time he has been pursuing the practise of
the law in the city of New York.
Before passing from the personnel of the House of Rep
resentatives I desire to say that during my twelve years'
experience no man but a cynic or habitual fault-finder, and
then not a stickler for the truth, could charge inebriety
against either branch of the law-making power of our Gov
ernment.
Never did I see or hear of more than three members who
were perceptibly under the influence of intoxicating drink
while on the floor, and they were immediately removed by
friends. There is nothing easier than to make charges, and
most singular it is, that some men delight in attacking pub
lic men and public bodies. A foreigner coming to this
country during a heated political campaign, and knowing
nothing of our public men, would think from what he heard
that we selected our officials from the slums and the lowest
orders of society and put the reins of government in their
hands. Whenever a man is a candidate for an office, how
ever high his character may have been, he is assailed by op
posite partisans, frequently with demoniac fury, and if
elected the assaults generally continue.
It is rare indeed that a candidate escapes these animadver
sions. A story is started usually by some reckless and irre
sponsible person, and it travels as fast as the wind and gath
ers in proportion like a snowball on a down grade; it will
cover miles and increase tenfold while "Truth is getting its
boots on to pursue and arrest the lie." Only recently a
candidate who had reached two score and ten, and who had
stood among the highest in his community, was so outra
geously assailed that he said to me, "I stop and pinch myself
often during the day to see if I am the man they are talking
about."
Some years ago I read in the National Library a Boston
paper published during Washington's second administra
tion, in which there was a call for "the sovereign people of
the Union, who had suffered so long and grievously, to rise
330 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
in their might and put down the usurper and tyrant —
George Washington."
Wholesale charges of corruption against the Executive,
Legislative, and Judicial Departments of our National Gov
ernment are sown broadcast without an iota of proof or a
scintilla of evidence, and this is tolerated upon the ground
that this is a land of free opinion and free speech.
If I were called and sworn upon The Book of all books,
and asked to give the name of a single member of either
House during the six terms I served in the House of Repre
sentatives of the United States whom I ever believed was a
corrupt man, I could not name the man.
There is too much freedom of speech in this "land of the
free and home of the brave." Freedom of speech here is
interpreted as license of speech, and license of speech has
sowed the seed of anarchy and watered and fertilized the
hideous plant of anarchism. It has taught, promoted, and
fostered doctrines inimicable and dangerous to our republi
can institutions, and opened upon us a Pandora's box of
evils.
Every patriot and thoughtful citizen should hail the day
when the law-making power of the Union and of the several
States shall stamp out license of speech and put a whole
some limit upon freedom of speech.
The story that has often been told of the advice given by
Henry Clay to a friend who was above reproach not to run
for office, for all kinds of charges would be preferred
against him to his great annoyance, and the report of his
friend after the election, that "the rascals even went so far
as to charge me with stealing a horse, and the worst of all
is that they came darn nigh proving it on me," is an apt
illustration of the political ways of many people of the pres
ent generation as well as in the generation in which Clay
lived.
A politician who has well-settled principles, and endeav
ors to promote the party which represents them and to se
cure the election of his party candidates by fair and honor
able means, or who aspires to position in the Government,
CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 33!
as a representative of the principles of his party, without
personal animadversion, in pursuing the lines of honor and
commendable ambition, and is a citizen worthy of confi
dence and respect; but the politician who concerns himself
with public affairs, not from patriotism or public spirit, but
for his own profit, and is unscrupulous in his ways, is a
man who should be excluded from the pales of public con
sideration for the sake of the general welfare of his com
munity or country.
CHAPTER XII
ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND
My Impression of President Arthur — President Harrison — The South's
Fear of him — I can Write Without Reserve of President Cleveland
— A Mountaineer's Judgment of Him — His Pension Vetoes Justified
—The Veto of the Dependent Pension Bill—The Proposition to
Return Confederate Battle-Flags — Chicago Strike — Venezuela and
the Monroe Doctrine.
My acquaintance with Presidents Arthur and Harrison
was quite limited.
President Arthur impressed me with his amiability,
courtesy, laborious habits, and strict attention to his duties.
In the social circle he was delightful, and his official inter
course with Senators and Representatives was always pleas
ant. He was conservative in his views and had a cool and
level head, and the Southern members felt assured that no
morning newspaper would contain anything from him that
would interrupt them in the enjoyment of their breakfast.
President Harrison was of Virginia lineage, — a grandson,
so to speak, of the Old Commonwealth, — but the Virginia
and Southern members generally, during the Fifty-first
Congress and after his Force-Bill Message, were constantly
anxious as to what would be his Southern policy. His
message of December 3, 1893, had been so radical, much
more extreme than the South had anticipated, and in two
subsequent messages he had urged his Force-Bill views
upon the attention of Congress, so that we knew he was in
no amiable mood toward the South, and we felt that a
weight was hanging over our heads which might descend
any day. But our anxiety was relieved when we learned
absolutely that no radical measure such as the Force Bill
could pass the Senate.
Of course the whole country recognized in President Har
rison an able, courageous, and conscientious statesman and
a patriot, but the South feared him. My meetings with
ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROV^R CI^VEXAND 333
him were so few and my opportunities to form conclusions
as to his traits of character so poor, that I would do injus
tice to myself if I were to attempt to give a pen-picture of
him.
Of President Cleveland I can write without reserve, for I
knew him long and well. There are facts in connection
with his administrations which, so far as I have ever seen
or heard, have never been presented in a plain and simple
manner, and I shall undertake the task.
In the way of illustration — in an uncomely way — of a
striking characteristic of Mr. Cleveland I shall relate a little
story. During the Presidential campaign of 1892 I was
traveling in a buggy across a mountain to meet an engage
ment to speak at a Democratic barbecue. I overtook an old
countryman on horseback, sitting on his grist, who was re
turning home from the mill.
I spoke to him and we got into a conversation. I asked
him if the people were warming up much on politics, and
how they stood between Cleveland and Harrison. He said
that things were getting pretty hot, and there was right
smart division, but he was for Cleveland. That from what
he could hear of Cleveland "he was the boss dog in the
tannery." I said, "What do you mean by that?" He re
plied: "The boss dog, you know, has his own way about
things and takes care of the premises, and he don't let others
come around fooling with him. So when we elected Cleve
land before we elected him to run things to suit himself, for
we didn't give him a partner, and he did run the people's
business mighty well — he was the boss dog in the tannery
and he is the man I think who ought to go back there." I
agreed with his logic, and often during Mr. Cleveland's
second administration did I recall the saying of the old
countryman on the mountain side, when other people were
trying to annoy and hamper the man who had been elected
to "run the people's business," but who was maintaining
with courage and firmness his position of "boss dog in the
tannery."
334 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE
This expression of the untutored countryman was
homely, but it illustrated the point he was making better
than the most cultured language could have done.
The people elected Grover Cleveland to be President of
this Republic in 1884 and again in 1892, and for both terms
he was President and fulfilled the trust, not only in name
but in fact. He surrounded himself with able cabinet coun
sellors, — and with them he conferred, and great and mighty
matters of state were discussed in Cabinet-meetings, and the
course to be pursued determined to his satisfaction, and then
all the clans and self-constituted advisers under the sun
could not divert him from the line marked out. He was
President and his mind was convinced; the responsibility
was upon his shoulders with none to share it with him,
and he acted upon his own judgment. If he had taken the
advice of "wise men" and made a mistake the blame would
have been cast upon him, and not upon the "wise men." In
matters not rising to the dignity of Cabinet matters he lis
tened patiently to all who desired to be heard and made dili
gent effort to acquire all necessary information before arriv
ing at a conclusion ; but when his conclusion was reached it
was hard to shake it. His energy was indomitable ; his en
durance surprising; his capacity for details wonderful.
He scrutinized closely every bill that was presented to
him, and acquired the title of "The Veto President" by rea
son of his free exercise of the veto power.
He vetoed three hundred and forty-one bills during his
two terms. Of these (including the Dependent Pension
Bill), two hundred and fifty-seven were bills granting pen
sions to Federal soldiers in the War between the States, —
nearly all during his first term, — and thirteen bills to erect
public buildings, all in the Northern States except two.
A synopsis of a few of the pension bills that were passed
will show the carelessness and recklessness with which pen
sions were granted.
I. A man was in the Army for two months in 1862. In
1871 he filed a claim alleging paralysis from typhoid fever
contracted in 1862.
ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND 335
2. A soldier was granted a furlough to go home and vote.
He was killed in a railroad collision on his way.
3. A soldier served out an enlistment of four months in
1 86 1. In 1879 he filed a claim, alleging as cause of disabil
ity, diarrhea and disease of the stomach, liver, kidneys and
bladder.
4. A soldier went hunting for his own pleasure or benefit,
his shotgun burst and he lost three of his fingers.
5. A soldier suffered a sunstroke in 1864. In l%7° ne
was struck by a passing railroad train and killed. A pen
sion was granted to his widow upon the supposition that
the sunstroke six years before had suddenly so affected his
mind that he wandered upon the track and was killed in a
temporary fit of insanity.
6. A soldier who was at home on a furlough was in
jured by a fall from a wagon. He never did a day's ser
vice, and had deserted twice, but the charges of desertion
had been removed to enable him to apply for a pension.
7. In 1862 a soldier was wounded in the arm and was
discharged. In 1880 he died from consumption and pneu
monia.
8. In 1 86 1 a soldier enlisted and served until 1865, when
he was discharged. In 1880, in leaving a barber-shop, he
fell down-stairs and was killed. A pension was granted to
his widow upon the allegation that he had contracted indi
gestion, bronchitis, nervous debility, and throat disease in
the Army, which were the causes of his death.
9. A soldier was bathing in the Potomac River near
Washington and was drowned. A pension was granted to
his father.
10. A soldier was injured by two comrades, who were
wrestling, falling upon him.
11. A soldier was killed by one of his comrades in a per
sonal difficulty. A pension was granted to his widow.
12. In 1863 a soldier received a gun-shot wound in his
knee. In 1883 ne died from apoplexy and his widow was
granted a pension.
336 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
13. In 1832 a man served for six weeks in the Black
Hawk War. In 1884, fifty-two years thereafter, he applied
for a pension upon the ground of chronic diarrhea con
tracted in service in the line of duty, and his bill passed.
14. A soldier was absent at his home on a parole. He
took part in a 4th of July celebration and was injured.
15. A man who had never served a day, and was reported
as a deserter, was found drowned in a canal near his home.
A bill to pension his widow was passed.
1 6. A substitute who had received a large bounty served
in the Army from March 25th to May nth, 1865 — part of
the time in the hospital with the measles. Fifteen years after
his discharge he applied for a pension, alleging that the
measles had affected his eyes and also his spinal column.
17. A man on his way to enlist, but before reaching the
place of enrollment and before he had become a soldier, fell
into a new cellar and broke his leg.
1 8. A photographer, not a soldier, was engaged in taking
photographs when no battle was in progress, and was in
some way injured.
19. In 1879 a soldier applied for a pension, alleging he
had contracted rheumatism in 1863. He conceded that he
had never been attended by a physician during or after the
war.
20. In 1863 a captain entered the Army, and in a year he
resigned to accept a civil position. Twenty years thereafter
he applied for a pension upon the ground that while he was
in service he had been thrown forward on his saddle and
injured. He had never been treated and no person had
ever heard that he was injured.
21. A fellow re-enlisted in 1864, after being pronounced
sound by the examining board. He served until the war
closed. There was no record of any disability. In 1878
he alleged that "by jar to his head, from heavy firing," prior
to his second enlistment, he incurred epilepsy.
22. A fellow in attempting to desert was shot in the thigh
by a guard, as found by an examining board.
ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROV^R CLEVELAND 337
23. Two desperadoes had collected a gang in the moun
tains of a Southern State and were engaged in plundering
the neighborhood. They were hunted down by home
guards. Yet bills granting them pensions were passed.
24. A fellow alleged he had been shot in the leg in a
skirmish. The record and testimony of witnesses devel
oped the fact that at the time he alleged he had been shot he
was in the hospital, and had been for weeks before and after,
with intermittent fever and rheumatism.
25. Another started, as he alleged, to volunteer; on the
way his horse fell on his ankle and injured it. He never
volunteered, but was drafted, after examination, in 1863,
and served without ailment until mustered out in 1865.
In 1879 ne applied for a pension for alleged injury in 1862.
I have taken these cases almost at random, and could mul
tiply cases like them many times.
All of these bills were vetoed by President Cleveland in
strong and pointed messages. In some of his messages, in
cases of widows, he displayed the sorrow that his vetoes
gave him, and his language was truly pathetic. In one he
said:
I believe her case to be a pitiable one and wish I could join in her
relief ; but unfortunately, official duty cannot always be well done when
directed solely by sympathy and charity.
In another :
It is not a pleasant thing to interfere in such a case; but we are
dealing with pensions and not with gratuities.
Many of his veto messages rang out in terse and severe
terms against the disposition to present unjust and unmeri-
torious claims for pensions. For instance in one message
he closed with these words :
The allowance of this claim, in my opinion, would be a travesty upon
our whole scheme of pensions, and an insult to every decent veteran.
Again:
Tha rejection of this claim is right, unless the Government is to be
held as an insurer against every fatal casualty incurred by those who
22
FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
have served in the Army, without regard to the manner of its occur
rence.
Again :
It is quite evident that this affidavit was contrived to deceive, and it
is feared that it is but a sample of many that are made in support of
claims for pensions.
Still again :
Heedlessness and a disregard of the principle which underlies the
granting of pensions is unfair to the wounded, cripple soldier who is
honored in the just recognition of his Government. Such a man should
never find himself side by side on the pension roll with those who have
been tempted to attribute the natural ills to which humanity is heir to
service in the Army. Every relaxation of principle in the granting of
pensions invites applications without merit and encourages those who
for gain urge honest men to become dishonest.
Thus the scrutinizing eye of President Cleveland and his
faculty for details saved the treasury from many a raid and
the tax-payers of our land from the payment of many an
unjust claim.
Nearly all of his vetoes of pension bills were sent in dur
ing his first term. His firm position on the subject of pen
sions and vigorous action in arresting fraudulent claims and
exposing the careless and reckless manner in which they had
been reported and passed had a most salutary effect. The
number of applicants and their agents and attorneys was
visibly reduced in the lobbies and committee rooms. He
had been looking after "the people's business," and doing it
with a courage that was admirable.
But the vetoing of these special pension bills did not com
pare with his veto of the Dependent Bill in its far-reaching
effect, and in this veto was the unfolding of the inflexible
will and supreme moral courage of President Cleveland.
The title of the act was "An Act for the relief of dependent
parents and honorably discharged soldiers and sailors who
are now disabled and dependent upon their own labor for
support."
In his message of February u, 1887, returning this bill
ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND 339
to the House of Representatives, wherein it originated,
President Cleveland used this language :
I can not believe that the vast peaceful army of Union soldiers who,
having contentedly resumed their places in the ordinary avocations of
life, cherish as sacred the memory of patriotic service, or who, having
been disabled by the casualties of war, justly regard the present pension
roll on which appear their names as a roll of honor, desire at this time,
and in the present exigency, to be confounded with those who through
such a bill as this are willing to be objects of simple charity and to
gain a place upon the pension roll through alleged dependence.
**********
The evil threatened by this bill is, in my opinion, such that, charged
with a great responsibility in behalf of the people, I can not do other
wise than to bring to the consideration of this measure my very best
efforts of thought and judgment and perform my constitutional duty in
relation thereto, regardless of all consequences except such as appear
to me to be related to the best and highest interests of the country.
But vigilant as was President Cleveland in guarding the
Treasury against pension raids, he did not make pension
matters a specialty. He was as vigilant in the discharge of
all duties. Nothing escaped his eye, which was almost omni-
spective.
It will not be my province to enter into an enumeration
of all of the most important matters that occupied the atten
tion of President Cleveland during his two administrations.
There are still some questions, however, that display in so
marked a degree the traits and characteristics of the dis
tinguished man that I cannot exclude them from these remi
niscences.
There was nothing that occurred that showed his con
stant desire to hew to the line of right more than his course
in connection with the proposed return of the captured Con
federate flags stored in the War Department at Washing
ton.
The Adjutant-General addressed a letter on the 3Oth of
April, 1887, to the Secretary of War, Hon. William C.
Endicott, suggesting the return of the Confederate flags to
the authorities of the respective States in which the regi
ments which had borne these colors were organized, for
such disposition as they might determine.
340 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
The Adjutant-General's letter was couched in the most
patriotic and fraternal words. He said :
While in all the civilized nations of the world trophies in war against
foreign enemies have been carefully preserved and exhibited as proud
mementoes of the nation's military glories, wise and obvious reasons
have always excepted from the rule evidences of past internecine trou
bles which by appeals to the arbitrament of the sword have disturbed
the peaceful march of a people to its destiny.
Over twenty years have elapsed since the termination of the late Civil
War. Many of the prominent leaders, civil and military, of the late
Confederate States are now honored representatives of the people in
the National Councils, or in other eminent positions, lending the aid of
their talents to the wise administration of the affairs of the whole
country; and the people of the several States composing the Union are
now united, treading the broader road to a glorious future.
"Impressed with these views, I have the honor to submit the suggestion
made in this letter for the careful consideration it will receive at your
hands.
The recommendation was, on May 26, 1887, approved
by the President and Secretary of War. On June 7, 1887,
letters were addressed to the Governors of the respective
Southern States tendering the flags.
Instantly mutterings of disapproval were heard from dif
ferent sections, and the right of the President to dispose of
"government property" was denied.
On June 16, 1887, the President addressed a letter to the
Secretary of War, revoking the order for the return of the
old flags, upon the ground that the return in the manner
proposed was not authorized by existing law nor justified
as "an Executive act"; that their disposition should origi
nate with Congress. Though prompted by the highest
patriotic motives and the loftiest fraternal feeling, as soon
as his attention was called to the fact that Congress alone
could dispose of "government property" he admitted his
mistake and adhered to the letter of the law.
I think it will be admitted that the objection came from
souls as small as mustard seeds, or men who sought to keep
alive war animosities or make political capital against the
President in violent and thoughtless minds.
These old flags were rags. They had been riddled with
Federal bullets as they were borne aloft by brave Con fed-
ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 34!
erate hands, or torn into fragments by the winds, and their
staffs shattered, as their folds rustled on plain and field, in
dell and valley, on hill-side and mountain-slope, where
American valor had shone in splendor, and the blood of
Americans had dyed crimson the jackets of the gray and
the jackets of the blue.
But the glorious old rags were, according to the letter of
the law, "government property," and they were trophies
won by brothers from brothers, in fratricidal war, and they
must be held, scheduled and preserved, until disposed of in
some way by a solemn Act of Congress.
But in the sunlight of advanced public sentiment the pa
triotic and fraternal action of the Adjutant-General, Secre
tary of War, and President in 1887 stands now with the
stamp of approval of all true Americans upon it.
In the summer of 1894 a most dangerous condition of
affairs existed in the city of Chicago. It was known as the
Chicago Strike. The mails of the United States were ob
structed and the destruction of government property threat
ened by large assemblages and combinations of armed men.
Terror reigned, and law and order were put at defiance.
Ordinary proceedings at law were impracticable and the
city and State officials were powerless or inert.
President Cleveland, in the exercise of his constitutional
power and in the discharge of his official duties, issued his
proclamation admonishing all citizens not to aid, counte
nance, encourage, or take part in any such unlawful ob
structions, combinations, assemblages, and declaring all that
did not heed the admonition to be public enemies. He fol
lowed his proclamation of warning and admonition with
another proclamation, declaring his purpose to protect the
commerce between the States, property of the Government
or under its protection, and the right of the United States
to use the railroads for postal, military, naval and other
government service, and to these ends he ordered United
States soldiers to the scene of the trouble. The presence of
the military quelled the disturbances and restored law and
order.
342 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Thus by this firm stand and vigorous action of President
Cleveland the interruption of mails, interference with inter
state commerce, the destruction of government property and
railroad property, the shedding of blood and the deaths of
innumerable human beings were prevented. The mighty
mob, gathering in numbers and fury every moment, was
suppressed, and the great city of Chicago saved from proba
ble virtual destruction and ruin.
The dispute between Great Britain and Venezuela, involv
ing the limits of British Guiana, and the firm assertion of
President Cleveland that the Monroe doctrine would be
maintained at all hazards, aroused the country to the point
of regarding the situation as looking warlike.
Venezuela was a pygmy in strength as compared to the
strength of Great Britain. The little republic would have
been powerless in any contest of arms with the British Em
pire. The increase of the area of British Guiana was de
manded of Venezuela, and without assistance the small and
weak country would have been at the mercy of her powerful
foe.
The President, realizing the great disparity in strength of
the contending nationalities, and that if the matter was left
to drift it would result in the success of might without con
sideration of the right of the case, determined that the forci
ble increase by any European power of its territorial pos
sessions on this continent was contrary to the Monroe doc
trine and the established policy of this Government, and he
entered his earnest protest against the enlargement of the
area of British Guiana against the rights and will of Vene
zuela. He insisted that the whole controversy should be
submitted to and settled by friendly and impartial arbitra
tors, and he called upon the British Government for a defi
nite answer to the question whether it would or would not
submit the territorial controversy in its entirety to impartial
arbitration.
Great Britain declined to arbitrate, and the President de
termined that this Government should undertake to satisfy
herself as to the true boundary of British Guiana, and if
ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 343
found that Great Britain's claim was not well founded, he
recommended that the United States resist by every means
in its power "as a wilful aggression upon its rights and in
terests, the appropriation by Great Britain of any lands or
the exercise of governmental jurisdiction over any territory
belonging to Venezuela." «
He expressed regret that the friendly relations between
''the two great English-speaking peoples of the world"
might be ruptured, but declared that no calamity which a
great nation can invite can equal that which follows a su
pine submission to wrong and injustice and the consequent
loss of National self-respect and honor, behind which are
shielded and defended a people's safety and greatness."
President Cleveland's firm and fearless stand for the en
forcement of the Monroe doctrine, and resistance to the ag
gression of Great Britain upon what seemed to be the rights
of Venezuela, was condemned by those who feared war and
injury to their stocks and bonds more than they gloried in
National self-respect and honor; but the chivalrous and
truly patriotic of the land commended him, and were ready,
if need be, to carry their country's flag and plant it on the
border line of the little republic, and bid defiance to the Brit
ish Lion.
But no war resulted and no complication arose. In less
than a year after the vigorous message of President Cleve
land, Great Britain changed her mind, and the boundary
question ceased to be a bone of contention between the
United States and Great Britain, for it was submitted to
arbitration, and the whole matter closed by treaty.
If a weak or nerveless man had filled the Presidential
chair, the Monroe doctrine would have been yielded, and the
United States would have been in the position of cringing
at the feet of "the Mistress of the Sea," and the name of
America would have fallen in rank among the great nation
alities of the earth.
CHAPTER XIII
BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION
Reason for Bond Issue — President Cleveland Denounced for it —
His Opposition to Free Silver — His Personal Traits — Patronage
Incidents — Secretary Lamar — Secretary Manning — A Prima Facie
Case — Acrostic.
During President Cleveland's second term, for directing
the Secretary of the Treasury to issue Government bonds,
he was condemned by many — some from honest views I
have no doubt, but a majority, I believe, from a purpose to
find fault with his Administration and to promote another
issue which was rapidly coming to the front.
It seems to me that no citizen would have hurled his bolts
as viciously at his head, and charged him with being in
league with Wall Street and the moneyed power, as many
did, if he had been fair-minded, posted and thoughtful.
Time and again he had called the attention of Congress
to the depletion of the reserve necessary to maintain the
credit of the Government and sustain public faith in its de
termination to meet its sacred obligations. Congress
turned a deaf ear to all his appeals to enact necessary meas
ures, and the depletion continued, and the anxiety and ap
prehension in business circles became intense. Despairing
of Congressional action, in pursuance of Section 3700 of the
Revised Statutes, and to preserve the credit and integrity of
the Government, he directed that bonds be issued and sold
to the amount of $62,000,000, at four per cent, payable in
thirty years, for the purchase of gold coin, amounting to a
sum slightly in excess of $65,000,000, to be delivered to
the Treasury, which sum added to the gold in the reserve
would restore the reserve to something more than $100,-
000,000. A premium was paid upon the bonds, so as to cut
down the rate of interest to 3! per cent, per annum.
This is in brief "the terrible offense" President Cleveland
committed in February, 1895. The Government received
BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 345
full value for her bonds at a low rate of interest, and with
the money the public credit was maintained, and the anxiety
and apprehension of business circles were relieved.
Wherein was any wrong done ? Was the Government in
jured? Was the taxpayer harmed ?
Can the most bitter partisan with a microscopic eye detect
any wrong, injury or harm ?
Here again did President Cleveland rise to the demands
of the occasion and protect the welfare of the people, who
had "elected him to do their business."
Again in 1896 he was abused and denounced as a traitor
to his party because he refused to endorse the free and un
limited coinage of silver at a ratio of sixteen to one, when
he was nominated in 1892 with his opposition to free silver
spread out in cold print and black letters before the eyes of
every delegate in the National Democratic Convention.
Besides, as early as December 8, 1885, he declared against
the dogma in a message to Congress ; again in his message
of December 6, 1886, and again in his message of December
3, 1888. Every delegate in the Convention of 1892 knew
his currency views from his printed declarations then, even
if he had failed to read his three messages prior to that time,
or if he had read them and had forgotten what he had read.
He sailed under no false colors; he deceived nobody; he
did not wear two faces; he did not carry water on both
shoulders; he did not change jackets in the play or ride two
horses in the arena. He was elected as an anti-silver
President and he closed his Administration as an anti-silver
President. He was "elected to do the people's business"
on anti-silver principles, and he did so.
Yet, for his fidelity to his expressed convictions when he
was nominated and for consistency with his long and oft-
repeated views, he was assailed in 1896 with a venom that
was astounding in many instances.
When he was first elected he instantly threw aside sec
tionalism, and became in truth the first National President
the country had had for twenty-four years. He knew no
section, but only "a Union composed of indestructible
346 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
States." New York was no more to him than Virginia,
and Mississippi no more to him than Illinois.
He selected his Cabinet, his ambassadors, consuls and
judges, and they were taken from States regardless of geo
graphical lines.
No pent-up North contracted his vision ; it ranged freely
over the whole land.
Into his first Cabinet he called from the United States
Senate two of the South's most distinguished sons, L. Q. C.
Lamar, of Mississippi, and A. H. Garland, of Arkansas —
the first to serve as Secretary of the Interior and the latter
as Attorney-General.
I need not speak of the manner in which these distin
guished Southerners filled their important trust. I was
thrown much with Mr. Lamar, and learned to know him
well. There was more patronage in his department than in
any other department of the Government, and he had at his
disposal a vast number of positions. He was therefore be
sieged daily by Democratic Senators and Representatives
for places for their constituents.
From Buchanan's day the Republicans had virtually con
trolled all the patronage. The Democrats were naturally
rapacious and very earnest in their demands. Washington
was crowded with office-seekers, and for every position at
the disposal of the departments there were at least twenty
applicants, or as some member expressed it, "twenty stop
pers for every bottle." Democratic Senators and Repre
sentatives were bending all their energies "to turn the ras
cals out," as many said, and fill the places with their con
stituents. I was in the lot, fighting with might and main
for my many friends. One day I was with Secretary
Lamar, almost pleading with him to favor me with some of
the places in his department. He was in a cheerful and
happy frame of mind (often he was moody), when Senator
Butler, of South Carolina, walked in. The Secretary re
ceived him cordially and said, "Look here, Butler, you are
not here after places too?" "Yes, sir," said the Senator,
"that's just what I am here for, but I only want a small
BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 347
place this morning. I had a darky in the war with me, and
he was true, and I want you to give him some place. He is
getting old." The Secretary asked the name of the darky,
and wrote it in a notebook he carried in his pocket. He then
resumed his conversation with me, which had been broken
by the Senator's entrance.
The Senator waited a few minutes and asked the Secre
tary if he was going to give him the place. Mr. Lamar re
plied : "Butler, I had a faithful old negro in the Army with
me, whose name was Sam. The night before the Battle of
Chickamauga I was satisfied there would be bloody work the
next day, so I sent back to the wagon-train for Sam to come
to where I was. When he presented himself I said, 'Sam,
there will be a big fight to-morrow and I may be killed. If
I am killed I want you to come to me and take my watch
and pocket-book from my person, and then get the horses
and go home to your mistress. Do you understand me,
Sam.' 'Yes, Marsa, I hears an' I unde'stands yo'; but,
Marsa, where yo' be when yo' git kilt.' I said, 'Well, I
don't know, but somewhere on the line. Just inquire for
our regiment and keep on until you find me.' 'All right,
Marsa,' said Sam ; 'but, Marsa, hadn't yo' better gib me dat
watch an' pocket-book right now? Den I will be sure to
have dem an' Missus will be so much surer to git dem/
Now, Butler,, you are like Sam ; you are too previous, you
want the place right away, when I will have to look around
and see what I can do for you." The Senator left and so
did I, but I carried away some crumbs for my constituents
for which I had been laboring earnestly for weeks. As I
have said, Secretary Lamar was a moody man; sometimes
he was genial and delightful, and then was the time to strike
him for "spoils of victory" ; other times there was no soft
ness in his eye and no music in his voice, and he was rather
hard of hearing; these were the times to let him severely
alone. He was a great man — great in intellect and char
acter.
The most popular Cabinet officer was Daniel S. Manning,
348 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
Postmaster-General. He was a hard worker, and had even
the smallest details of his department at his fingers ends.
He was in full sympathy with the idea of the Democrats
that "to the victors belong the spoils," and it was not diffi
cult to persuade him that James Jones, Republican post
master at Spring Creek, should be turned out, but it was not
always so easy to induce him to think that John Smith or
Israel Johnson was the man to put in Jones's place; that is,
he was generally ready to remove a Republican, but he was
not willing to appoint just any sort of a Democrat; he
would not take a man "on faith" because he had voted for
Cleveland; he must be satisfied that he was getting a good
man, as well as a Democrat, who would "ride through hail
and brimstone" to vote the ticket.
He worked rapidly, his mind acted quickly. In a
single day he appointed forty-two postmasters for me.
all in about three hours. Whether any other Represen
tative beat that record or not I never learned. In fact, I
kept it quiet, for fear other members might complain, and
he would go slower with me thereafter. But I made many
other fine daily records. I remember on a certain occasion a
member was urging the appointment of a constituent as a
postmaster in a town, and had spoken of him in the most flat
tering terms, when Mr. Manning sent for all the papers on
file. When they were brought to him, he examined them
carefully and said :
"This case reminds me of the definition of a prima facie
case given by an old fellow. He said a prima facie case is
a good case on its face, but bad in the rear. Mr. , you
must find a better man. I can't appoint this man, he is a
prima facie case."
Secretary Manning was a man worthy to have filled any
station in this Republic, and but for his death, the result I
believe of official over-work, he would have been a promi
nent and most probable successful Democratic candidate for
Presidential honors.
Returning to Mr. Cleveland, I express the opinion that
his judgment of men was most superior. Take his two
BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 349
Cabinets, and there was not a Cabinet officer who did not
fully measure up to the highest standard for the position to
which he was called. Both Cabinets were harmonious
bodies; you never heard of Cabinet clashes or divergent
views in Cabinet councils. It is to be presumed that there
were at times differences of views ; it would have been most
extraordinary if such were not the case; but they were
surely reconciled and settled, for the outside world never
heard of them.
President Cleveland has been most viciously assaulted.
But when you scan the musty pages of the chronicler of
Washington's day and find that though the most malignant
assaults were made upon him, that he was charged with
being an usurper and denounced as a traitor, yet for near
ly a hundred years the anniversary of his birth has been
celebrated and made a holiday, and the children of this land
taught to revere his memory, and that from 1800, when
Henry Lee, with eloquent tongue, proclaimed him to be the
American who stood "first in war, first in peace, and first in
the hearts of his countrymen," pens and tongues have re
peated the tribute, and millions upon millions have echoed
and re-echoed the sentiment, we are assured that the slan
derer's tongue, though as venomous "as the worms of Nile,"
can inflict no permanent injury upon the true and the great.
So, while President Cleveland has been defamed, as was
Washington with all his valiant military service, sincere
purposes, and patriotic impulses, the millions of American
citizens who regard Cleveland as the greatest living Amer
ican can calmly wait for impartial history to vindicate him
against every assault and hold him up, as I have said, before
the world as a statesman without guile, a patriot without
selfishness, a citizen true, and as a President the equal of
any that has ever directed the destinies of this Republic.
Just a few words as to the personal traits of Mr. Cleve
land. To a stranger he had the appearance of sternness,
austerity or severity in disposition, but he was, in fact, just
the reverse. He was ever thoughtful and reflective, and
he did not possess that suavity and smoothness of manner
35O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
of one who can, as occasion may arise, throw off care and
assume cheerfulness. He had the appearance of one who
was burdened with weighty matters and felt keenly the re
sponsibility resting upon him. I never heard him give a
stern reply or stern rebuke, or saw him cast a stern glance,
and if he ever did I venture to assert that he was justified.
He met every caller with a bright face and cordial hand
shake; the tone of his voice was soft and pleasant and he
listened patiently and gave as much time to every inter
viewer as justice to the many waiters would permit. In
these interviews he was direct. He was incapable of de
ception or delusion. If he made an engagement he kept it,
almost to the moment fixed, whether it was with a high offi
cial or an humble citizen.
In the social circle he cast aside, as far as his nature
would allow, all matters of state, and was bright, cheerful,
and companionable. He enjoyed humor and was fond of a
good story or anecdote. Beneath what seemed to be stern
ness or austerity in the discharge of his official duties was
a heart as warm as the warmest, and as noble as the noblest.
As I have said, President Cleveland was hard to shake
from a position which he had deliberately taken, and if he
ever made you a promise he never forgot it and would surely
fulfil it.
He was exceedingly kind to me, and it resulted from my
securing his confidence in the early days of his Administra
tion. He had made an appointment for me, based upon my
recommendation and the representations of others which I
presented.
In a day or two thereafter I ascertained that I had been
deceived as to the character of the appointee, and that he
was not a fit man for the place. I went immediately to the
White House, and told the President frankly I had made a
bad recommendation in the case mentioned. I told him
that the removal of the man would bring down upon me the
everlasting enmity of himself and his friends, still I must
ask that the commission be recalled ; that I could not have
the Administration blamed for such an appointment. The
BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 351
commission was instantly recalled, and after a while another
appointment was made. The next time I called on him to
secure an appointment he smiled and said, "I hope this fel
low is not like that other fellow you presented?" I replied:
"No, Mr. President. That case taught me a lesson, and
you can rest assured I will never have another like it." He
said : "All right. We are all liable to make mistakes, but we
should rectify them as quickly as possible. You did this,
and I shall be inclined to make any appointment you may
recommend and hold you responsible if I make a mistake."
"Very well, Mr. President," I replied. "I shall be careful,
and if I make a bad mistake I shall not ask you to continue
your confidence in me."
From that time forward I had plain and easy sailing in
my district appointments, until I asked him to remove the
postmaster at Woodstock, who was of course a Republican,
and appoint a certain Democrat whom I recommended.
Here I met with a rebuff. He said, "Is not Woodstock the
home and post-ofBce of Senator Riddleberger of your
State?" I replied, "Yes, sir." "Then," said he, "I cannot
do what you ask. There is a senatorial courtesy which I
must respect." I rq>lied, "Mr. President, the Republicans
did not show such courtesy to Democratic Senators." "That
may be," he said ; adding, "there are many things that Re
publicans have done which we ought not to do." On two
occasions afterwards I plead with him to remove the Re
publican postmaster upon the ground of "offensive parti
sanship," but I found him as firm as ever in his determina
tion to let him serve out his term, as a matter of courtesy to
the Virginia Senator, whose home was at Woodstock, and
I abandoned my efforts, until the officiars term had expired,
and then I renewed my application for his removal, and it
was instantly granted, and my Democratic friend and con
stituent was appointed in his stead.
On another occasion he refused most emphatically to
make a certain important appointment when he was urged
to do so with much spirit and persistency by a very promi
nent gentleman holding a high station. He was not satis-
352 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
fied with the fitness of the applicant for the position. The
gentleman urging the appointment insisted that the Presi
dent should "take his word" and require nothing more.
The reply came quick : "I would be willing to take your
word in most matters, but I cannot assume the responsibility
of appointing this man upon your assurance as to his fitness,
when I am sure your friendship has blinded you to his
faults. I will not appoint him. Please be satisfied with
this third refusal."
He made few promises in direct terms. If he was in
clined to favor you he would probably give you reason to
hope for the best. Sometimes he would break his general
rule and make a promise, and then you need not trouble
yourself about it or fear it might be forgotten or over
looked. He was as sure to keep it as the sparks are sure to
fly heavenward.
I had a friend who was a lieutenant in the Army ; he was
a splendid all-round soldier and had seen much service. He
was anxious to be promoted to a captaincy in the Quarter
master Department. I visited the President and gave him
the record of this lieutenant, laid before him strong endorse
ments, and asked him to promote him. He told me he
would do so.
This was about three months before the expiration of his
last term. Weeks passed and no promotion came; the lieu
tenant became anxious and appealed to me to see the Presi
dent again. I said, "No, I will not do it ; rest easy, you will
get your promotion."
About ten days before his retirement I was in Washing
ton, and went to the White House to pay my respects and
bid him farewell. I was admitted to the Executive Office;
he stepped forward to meet me, and as he took my hand he
said, "I suppose K has received his commission." I
said, "I don't know." "Well," said he, "I reckon he has,
for it was issued two days ago." Sure enough, he had, as
I knew he would, remembered and kept his promise.
Recently a friend of mine, Doctor George Ross, of Rich
mond, a great admirer of Mr. Cleveland, repeated to me an
BOND ISSUE) — CURRENCY QUESTION 353
acrostic which he had written. At my request he gave me
a copy, and as it accords so fully with my sentiments, I here
insert it :
"GROVER CLEVELAND
"(An Acrostic)
"Grandly he stands — unfalteringly just,
Recreant never to public trust;
Only his duty his beacon light,
Varying never in doing the ridit.
Easily statesman, the first in his land,
Reverently leading our patriot band.
Calm and serene a pilot at post,
Laboring to guide his nation's erreat host.
Ever keen-scanning political skies,
Vigorously pointing out where danger lies.
Eagerly trailing his searchlight for truth,
Lavishly lighting the pathway of youth.
Always his name will, on History's pages,
Nearest the famed be all through the ages
Declaring this truth, he belonged to the sages."
CHAPTER XIV
CONCLUSION
PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GENERAL DANIEL MORGAN
My High Esteem of President McKinley — A National President —
Spanish-American War— The Potentiality of the Words "I Ob
ject" — General Daniel Morgan of Revolutionary Fame — A Wonder
ful Character — An Incident of a Democratic Caucus — The Death
of Representative Taulbee — A Most Unique Character — Mrs. Gen
eral Custer — Some "Cranks" in Congress — Everlasting Talkers —
The Effective and Influential Member— Close of My Official Life—
A Proud Reflection.
My official career ended during the Administration of
President McKinley. With this illustrious man I had
served several terms in Congress, and though I was a Demo
crat and he was a Republican, and both of us firm in our
respective political faiths, I admired him much and had the
honor of numbering him among my cherished personal
friends.
In loftiness and purity of character he was unsurpassed.
In kindness and gentleness, in urbanity and polish of man
ner he had no superior. In the fiery partisan debates that
often occurred between Northern and Southern representa
tives he never participated, and seemed to disapprove of
them. He had a dignity that commanded universal respect.
He was speaker of eloquence and power, zeal and earnest
ness, but never indulged in personal invective or attack.
He was an uncompromising "protectionist," and became
known everywhere as its leading apostle on the floor of the
House of Representatives.
He was rather below medium height, stout and strongly
built. His face was handsome and his eye fine, and taking
him all in all he bore a striking resemblance to the pictures
we have all seen of Napoleon Bonaparte in the heyday of his
glory.
PRESIDENT M'KINL,EY — GEN. DANIEL, MORGAN 355
I met him but twice while he was President; first when
Senator Daniel and I stood with him in the ample corridors
of the Jefferson Hotel, in Virginia's Capital City, where he
received thousands who passed forward to take his hand.
This was on October 30, 1900, the occasion being the launch
ing of the torpedo boat Shrubrick at the Trigg Shipyard.
He was a splendid hand-shaker, a good quality with a poli
tician, and he made a lasting impression upon the people.
The other time I met him was in the Executive Office in
Washington, just as the grim visage of the Spanish- Amer
ican War was making its appearance; there was a clamor
for quick and decisive action, when the country was not
fully prepared to strike and speedily end the trouble. It was
apparent to my mind that he thought too much haste was
demanded, that hostilities should not commence until every
thing was ready for a sharp and decisive blow. All will
remember that the impatient young blood of the country
thought he was rather slow, but he held back long enough
"to make ready/' and then he "let loose the dogs of war,"
and San Juan and Santiago ended the conflict, Cuba was
freed, and the cruel Spanish rule which had existed for so
many years, in spite of almost constant revolts and insur
rections, was banished from the island, and she soon began
to feel the beneficent effects of an American Protectorate.
In just one hundred and three days from the declaration of
war came the declaration of peace. This was surely quick
enough to satisfy and gratify the most extreme young "fire-
eater" who had been thirsting for gore and dreaming of
glory.
In three months and a half the navy of a country had
been destroyed, its forts captured, its land forces compelled
to capitulate, and the country itself forced to appeal for
peace, with the loss of a vast part of its territory.
In conversation with President McKinley at the Execu
tive Office, to which I have referred, he gave evidence of the
spirit that animated him in the administration of the affairs
of this Government until the bullet of the miserable anarchist
destroyed his noble life. He said : "Thank God we hear
35^ FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
no longer the words Northerner and Southerner. If the sec
tions were not united heart and soul already, this trouble
has united them. In my appointments to places in the Army,
far be it from me to inquire whether an applicant comes
from the North or South, or whether his antecedents are
secession or Union, except so far as it may be necessary in
order to apportion the appointments among the different
States."
By his every act and expression from the day of his first
inauguration to his sad and tragic death, his determination
and purpose were clearly shown to be, in truth and not mere
ly in name, a National President, without enmity for the
South, without bias for the North. His wearing of a Con
federate badge at a Confederate reunion, and his suggestion
that the United States Government should make appropria
tions for the care of Confederate Cemeteries, showed how
full was his soul with the milk, not of human kindness
merely, but the spirit of fraternal love.
This was an exhibition of moral courage and superb man
hood that will link his name forever with the names of the
world's most courageous and manly, most generous, mag
nanimous, and patriotic public servants. No President from
the birth of this Republic to the present hour ever grew more
rapidly in the hearts and affections of the American people
than did William McKinley, and when he was lying, hov
ering between life and death, the prayers that ascended to
the Throne of Grace for his recovery from every section of
this Republic were as countless as the leaves of a forest.
William McKinley was truly a National President. He
had as much faith in the patriotism of the South as he had
in the patriotism of the North. He would have trusted a
Virginia Division to lead a forlorn hope as soon as he
would have trusted a Massachusetts Division. There was
not a spark of sectional feeling in his soul.
He loved the whole constellation, and one star was as
dear to him as another.
He loved his American soil, and the cotton-fields of Geor
gia and wheat-fields of Tennessee delighted his eye with
PRESIDENT M'KINIvEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 357
their opening bolls and golden sheaves as much as the ore
beds of Pennsylvania and the pine clusters of Maine. He
loved his country's oceans, lakes, bays, and rivers, and the
white sails of commerce on their bosoms filled him with
pride from whatsoever clime they came, North, South, East,
or West.
There are many things in my memory, not already men
tioned, in connection with Congress, some of which at least I
think will bear recording in these recollections of my Con
gressional life.
The words "I object" are most potential words under the
rules of Congress, and a thousand times have I heard them
ring out to the chagrin, disappointment, and sorrow of mem
bers. To take a bill from the calendar out of its order for
consideration requires general consent, and the two words
"I object" will prevent it and leave your bill, however im
portant to your constituents or meritorious it may be, with
perhaps a hundred or more ahead of it, and where it will
not be reached during the term under the regular call.
I suffered most painfully on several occasions, but par
ticularly three times in relation to a particular bill. It was
a bill to preserve and mark the grave of General Daniel
Morgan, of Revolutionary fame, the hero of the Cowpens,
January 17, 1781, who had marched with his riflemen from
the Valley of Virginia to the Commons of Boston, six hun
dred miles in three weeks, in the dead of winter ; to whom
Congress had voted a gold medal ; whose figure in his hunt
ing shirt has been preserved on canvas in the grand paint
ing representing the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga,
October 17, 1777, hanging in the Capitol of the Nation;
who had risen from the position of wagoner on the expedi
tion to Fort Duquesne to that of a brigadier-general.
He died on the 6th day of July, 1802, at the age of sixty-
six years, after serving two years in Congress, and was
buried in the Presbyterian Church-yard at Winchester, Vir
ginia. When I was less than ten years of age my grand
mother, who as a girl had attended the funeral, took me to
his grave, and standing over it told me of his great services
358 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
to his country, of the funeral procession, the measured tread
and sad faces of his comrades, the fife and muffled drum,
and the volley that was fired as the clods filled the open
grave. This made a lasting impression upon me, and there
was no bill of its character on the calendar in which I felt
an interest near so deep. I secured several favorable re
ports from the committee, but never early enough in a ses
sion to get it sufficiently high on the calendar to be reached
on the regular call, and three times did the words "I object"
prevent its consideration out of order.
I had my heart set upon its passage ; every emotion of my
soul was aroused in its behalf. I had carefully studied the
hero's life and character and it was like a romance to me.
When about seventeen years of age he came from either
Pennsylvania or New Jersey, the latter State I think, to
Frederick County, Virginia, and engaged himself as
a land grubber, then as a sawyer, and then he
went to work as a wagoner on his own account. He
was rather a pugnacious fellow and an athlete, and en
gaged frequently in broils and fisticuffs, and with one ex
ception was always the victor. At that time Berryville, the
present county-seat of Clarke County, was called Battletown,
and it derived its name from the number of fistic battles .that
occurred there on every "law day," a day set apart in each
month for the trial of small law suits. Morgan would at
tend these trials, and almost invariably he would have "a
scrap" before leaving for home. On one of these occasions
he was badly worsted by a powerful young fellow from the
Blue Ridge Mountains; reaching home very much morti
fied over his defeat, his wife, who was a lady of culture and
refinement, upbraided him severely, as she had done before,
for his "rowdyism," and begged him for her sake to change
his ways. He promised her solemnly he would do so, after
he had whipped the young mountaineer. When the next
law day came he told his wife he could not succeed in his
coming combat, with his long hair, and asked her to clip
it short.
PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 359
His wife admired his long flowing locks and declined to
clip them, but told him she would "fix" his hair for him,
and this she proceeded to do. She dexterously wove pins
and needles all through his hair, and he left for Battletown,
where he found his antagonist ready and waiting for him.
He returned that evening a victor and a happy man. His
wife's ingenuity had won the fight for him. He kept his
promise to his wife and never engaged in another fistic en
counter at Battletown.
General Morgan owned two fine farms in Clarke County
at his death, upon which, during the war, he had erected two
handsome dwellings of native limestone, with the labor of
Hessian prisoners, one situated near Berryville, which he
called "Soldiers' Rest," and the other near Millwood, which
he called "Saratoga." These two houses are still standing,
bearing the names Morgan gave them, well preserved, and
the former is the residence of Powell Page, Esq., and the
latter the home of Edward C. Barnett, Esq., and at each old
Virginia hospitality is dispensed with lavish hand.
Some years ago, when the old Presbyterian Church and
fence had crumbled and fallen and were only limestone piles,
several thoughtful and patriotic citizens of Winchester re
moved the remains of this hero to the City Cemetery, and
they now rest there amidst its beautiful bowers, cared for
by gentle hands.
I most sincerely trust some future representative of my
old Congressional district will succeed in inducing the Gov
ernment to erect a monument over the grave of this distin
guished soldier and patriot, who did so much in our struggle
for independence, and received the thanks of his country and
the plaudits of Washington.
The Committee on Claims was greatly taxed with what
were termed "Loyal Claim Bills" ; they were bills presented
by Southern men declaring their loyalty to the Union dur
ing the war, and seeking payment for losses they had sus
tained at the hands of Federal troops.
The vast majority of these claims were fraudulent ; many
of the claimants had voted for secession, carried banners
360 I-ORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
and huzzahed in secession processions. They sought to
meet this evidence by declaring they were afraid not to
vote for secession or be demonstrative on public occasions.
Others had never uttered, so far as known, a Union senti
ment during the war; they had given of their substance
without coercion for the support of the "rebellion," and had
been regarded by their communities as true to the cause of
the Confederacy. To the credit of the committee let it be
said that all such claimants were sent away empty-handed.
There was a class whose claims were more or less meri
torious. I refer to the German Baptists, or Tunkers. These
people were non-combatants, they were opposed to war and
opposed to a division of the Union; they refrained from
voting on the ordinance of secession and were as near Un
ionists and as loyal to the Union as circumstances would
permit. Quite a number of their claims were paid.
Upon the whole the Treasury was well guarded against
the raids of so-called Southern Unionists. But it was sur
prising how many who had been regarded during the War
as true to the Confederacy as the truest, developed into
Union men when the bill passed allowing Southern Union
men to present their claims for consideration. While I say
the number was surprising, they were, comparatively speak
ing, very few — not greater than a few imperfect grains in
a bushel of seed corn.
Members of Congress are but men after all, and they have
the impulses of men.
In a Democratic caucus held to nominate candidates for
the various offices of the House I was an eye-witness to a
little rough-and-tumble encounter between two prominent
members that would have brought applause in any gathering
of "the manly art." The gentlemen were the respective lead
ers of two opposing candidates, and had worked themselves
up to the fighting point. One, whom I shall call Mr. C.,
had put his man in nomination in a spirited speech; the
other, whom I shall designate as Mr. D., was placing his
candidate before the caucus, speaking with great delibera
tion, and said, "The gentleman who has preceded me said
PRESIDENT M'KINIvEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 361
that which was dis-hon-or-a-ble — " Instantly Mr. C., who
was sitting close to where Mr. D. was speaking, sprang from
his seat and rushed at Mr. D. They clinched, and before
they could be separated the face of each showed marks of
blows and was bleeding.
They were taken to different toilet-rooms, but quickly re
turned to the floor, and instantly rushed into each other's
arms. An explanation had been made, satisfactory to both,
and the casus belli removed. The encounter had resulted
from Mr. D.'s deliberate mode of speaking; he had not fin
ished his sentence — he had intended to say that "the gentle
man who has preceded me has said that which was dis-hon-
or-a-ble to me." Mr. C. thought Mr. D. meant that he, Mr.
C., had made some dishonorable statement in his speech.
The death of Representative Taulbee, of Kentucky, at the
hands of a newspaper reporter, also a Kentuckian, which at
tracted so much attention at the time, was the result of a
feud which grew out of a violent attack made upon Taulbee
by the reporter.
Taulbee was a tall, athletic, wiry man of about forty. The
reporter was by no means his equal physically, and Taulbee
had refrained from making a direct assault upon him, but on
several occasions he had undertaken to humiliate his oppo
nent. Whether stung to desperation by Taulbee' s course or
instigated by fear of him, I know not, the reporter armed
himself with a pistol, and meeting Taulbee on the steps lead
ing down to the restaurant of the House of Representatives,
without the slightest warning to him or knowledge upon his
part that his enemy was near, the reporter shot him, inflict
ing a wound from which death ensued in a few days. The
reporter was tried, and after a protracted hearing was ac
quitted by the jury. The verdict was condemned by many,
while others sustained it. Taulbee was a man of fine ability
and a fluent and attractive speaker.
A most unique character was Honorable James B. Bel-
ford, of Colorado. His most admiring friends would not
say he was a handsome or prepossessing man in person or
manner. He had fire-red hair, scrubby red beard, and shuf-
362 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
fling gait, and on the street would have been taken any time
for a recently-landed son of the Emerald Isle, from Tipper-
ary, inviting any man to knock the chip off his hat or step
on his coat-tail. But he was as genial as a sunbeam, full of
humor, quick at pleasant repartee, a splendid speaker, and a
man of fine ability. He had been raised a Democrat in Penn
sylvania, but embraced Republicanism when, as he said, "he
got from under his father's wing, and got his eyes open."
He had been a gallant Union soldier, and after making a trip
to the Fredericksburg Battle-field he introduced a bill to ap
propriate $100,000 to build a Confederate Soldier's Home
at the "Old Burg." He prepared a speech in support of his
bill, but was never able to secure an opportunity to de
liver it.
He said in my presence, during a session of the House,
after he had returned from a trip to Fredericksburg : "Well,
I am just from Fredericksburg, Spottsylvania and the Wil
derness. I was never as royally treated in my life as I was
by those Virginians over there. Just think, that I was try
ing to kill such people for four years, and they were trying
to kill me — both of us thinking we were doing God service.
But all that sort of feeling has left me. Now I want to say
to my Republican friends that I have waved the bloody-
shirt many a time, but from this time on I am no bloody-
shirt waver. We must win our battles some other way, so
far as I am concerned. I'm done waving, sure."
He was a general favorite, and his retirement caused uni
versal regret. I hope he is still living, for he was a splendid
type of manhood.
The heavy pensions that were granted to the widows of
Federal officers was opposed by many of us. I always
thought that the pension granted to an officer's widow was
too great in comparison with the pension awarded to the
widow of a private soldier, and voted uniformly against very
large pensions to the widows of distinguished officers.
But there was one bill of this nature which I determined
not to oppose. It was caused by my supreme admiration
for the dead officer and the personality and magnetism of
PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 363
his widow. Judge Chipman, of Michigan, invited me one
evening to go with him to the Member's gallery and meet
a lady, who was a warm friend of his, and as he said,
"among the most charming women on the Continent." I
went with him, and to my utter surprise but infinite pleas
ure he introduced me to Mrs. General Custer. After re
maining for a few minutes, the Judge excused himself and
left me with Mrs. Custer.
Never in my life was I more charmed than I was
with the vivacity and personality of this little lady. I drew
her gradually into a conversation about her army life, and
finally about her lamented soldier husband. She gave me
a minute account of his last battle, his courage and death,
and the cruelty and brutality of Sitting Bull and his band of
Indians. With her eyes filling with tears she pictured the
scene in a manner no tongue on earth could have equaled.
I remained with her as long as propriety, upon so short
an acquaintance, would allow, and when I bade her good-
by it was with a fixed mental resolution that I would cast
consistency to the winds, break my rule, and not vote against
her bill for an increased pension, which was pending. I
adhered to my resolution. I determined to make an excep
tion of the widow of he who rode to death on a field
where no comrade was left to tell the tale, no human being
to carry the tidings of his last charge, except an Indian
scout, who, with a Sioux blanket wrapped about him, suc
ceeded in escaping. But Mrs. Custer's information had not
been obtained simply from this Indian scout, but from Sioux
braves who had been engaged in the massacre.
I have said, Congress is a body of might in intellect and
superb in the personnel of its members, but it is rarely en
tirely free from "cranks" or accidental men, and occasionally
cranky bills find their way into the committee rooms. I
recall a bill introduced by a member who was neither a
Democrat nor a Republican, but had been elected from a sec
tion which abounded at the time in new and strange doc
trines and isms. It was entitled a bill "To create the United
States of the World." He proposed that all kingdoms and
364 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
principalities should constitute one mighty Republic; that
the United States should absorb all the land and waters and
peoples of the known globe, and become "the United States
of the World." He seemed to regard this country as "a
pent-up Utica," and as an expansionist he would overshadow
the most expansive expansionist of the present day. The
acquisition of the Philippines with its 1,200 islands and its'
area of 112,500 square miles is but as a drop in a bucket
as compared with the expansion suggested by the bill to
which I have referred.
It is needless for me to say that this bill, with its high-
sounding title, was instantly laid away with the mass of dead
and embalmed measures, the accumulation of all the Con
gresses from the organization of the Republic.
In every Congress there are members who are everlasting
talkers. Whatever may be the subject, thev must get their
views in the Record "by hook or crook." If they can secure
the floor for five minutes or less they will ask permission
to extend their remarks in the Record, and their five-minute
speeches on the floor will blaze out into hour speeches in the
Congressional Record, punctuated all through with "ap
plause," and these publications will go forth to their con
stituents as lengthy and telling efforts upon the part of their
ready and able representatives. I recall several members
who were constantly making five-minute speeches on the
floor, and then in a few days their elaborations would cover
several pages of the Record. I always regarded the custom
as little less than a fraud, which should be suppressed. There
are instances when it should be tolerated, but they are rare,
and then it should be noted that the speeches were never in
fact delivered. They should appear rather as essays than
as speeches.
There are also incessant, really long-winded speeches by
some members ; they never attend a committee meeting, but
occupy their whole time in preparing speeches. They are
anxious to keep their names before the people, and they do
it daily through the columns of the Record, which costs
them nothing. During the effort of one of these leather-
PRESIDENT M'KINUSY — GE)N. DANIEL MORGAN 365
lunged and long-winded gentlemen, with the galleries asleep,
when nearly all the members had retired to the cloak-rooms,
the Speaker of the House looking like he was doing penance,
or bearing it all with Job-like patience, I was in my seat,
and turning around I said to Hon. S. S. Cox, who sat just
at my back, "Mr. Cox, what is the difference between no
toriety and fame?" Instantly he replied, "The same differ
ence there is between swill and pure water." Then, with a
twinkle in his eye, he turned his head in the direction of the
speaker, and said, "Isn't all that swilly ?"
Let no constituency flatter themselves with the idea that
because their Representative's name is appearing frequently
in the press and he is making a speech on subject after sub
ject, that he is setting the woods on fire with his burning
words, or charming multitudes with his flaming eloquence,
or driving the steel home with his blows of logic, or writing
his name in the niche of fame, or serving his constituency
with efficiency. Such representatives are neither the giants
nor effective men of the House; they become "as sounding
brass and a tinkling cymbal," and the House tolerates them
because it cannot help itself.
The effective and influential member is he who is a faith
ful attendant upon the meetings of his committee, who makes
its work a specialty, studies it well, and is prepared to dis
cuss his committee matters intelligently and forcefully ; who
takes up other subjects when he can do so without neglect
ing his special work, who knows when to talk and when to
stop, who attends strictly to the demands of his constituents
in the departments, and does not consume the time that
should be given in this direction in preparing speeches, so
that notice of him may appear in the next morning's press.
Everlasting speech-making has done more to relegate
members to the shades of private life than any one thing, ex
cepting intemperance or dissolute habits. I knew members
who never answered a letter, never attended a committee
meeting, never visited a department, but were daily on the
floor speaking. The Congressional lives of such men were
366 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE
usually short; their constituents wanted less talk and more
work. They seemed to be unable to condense or speak suc
cinctly on any subject, but "drew out the thread of their
verbosity finer than the staple of their argument."
But nothing that I have said must be regarded as a modi
fication of the high estimate I have previously placed upon
the Congress of the United States in these memoirs. Most
of the members whom I have just mentioned were far more
than mediocre men; they simply lacked judgment, made
mistakes, misconceived the true line of a Representative, and
while seeking fame they only gained short-lived notoriety.
There was one member with whom I served who appeared
to be congenitally and constitutionally the most irritable and
ill-tempered human being I have ever seen in high station.
He had most peculiar views, and if you disagreed with them
he would become as irritable and snappish as a hyena, and
if you agreed with him he would swear that you were an
ape and had no views of your own. He was among the very
few who made me wonder how he ever made his way into
the halls of Congress. His people did not repeat their folly
at the succeeding election.
My official life ended at the close of my gubernatorial
term of four years, January first, 1898. I had served three
years of a term of six years, as a court clerk, elected when
a boy. I had served two years in the legislature, six years
as judge, twelve years as a member of Congress, and four
years as Governor of my native State, aggregating twenty-
seven years of almost continuous service. My friends had
been most successful in bringing me victories in my numer
ous contests, and to them I owe a debt of gratitude I can
never discharge. All of these positions, except the judge-
ship, came to me directly from the people and by the ballot-
box,
"A weapon that comes down as still
As snowflakes fall upon the sod ;
But executes a free man's will
As lightning does the will of God."
PRESIDENT M'KINUCY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 367
I have the proud reflection that will go with me through
the remainder of my days, that not even my bitterest foe,
political or personal, ever laid a charge at my door of neglect
of duty or the wilful doing of an improper act. It is human
to err, and in some instances, with the lights before me and
no time for inquiry, my acts were different from what they
would have been if facts subsequently developed had been
before me.
My refusal to espouse the cause of free silver in 1896
and 1900 relegated me to the shades of private life. For
my course I have no regrets, except the regret I experienced
at the time, of being compelled "to part company" with so
many of my political friends with whom I had been closely
allied in many a fierce political battle. The eight years that
have intervened since I declined to vote the ticket of the
party whose real principles were next to my religious faith
have wrought a mighty change, and I rejoice that my posi
tion of 1896 is the Democratic position of 1904.
When Appomattox sealed the doom of the Confederacy
I took my parole and kept it. Quickly after the surrender
of the spotless Lee and "grim-visaged war had smoothed his
wrinkled brow/' while still cherishing the deeds and memo
ries of the cause for which I had fought until the last waf
note had passed away, I renewed my allegiance to my re
united land, and henceforward endeavored by precept and
example to add my mite to the growing spirit of fraternal
unionism. And now while I love my State with all the de
votion of a true and loyal son, I look with love and pride
upon the flag, wherever it floats, as the emblem of American
ism.
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