It was on November 10, 1864, that General Fitz Lee applied for
me, and in a letter written to my mother at the time I said that
General Longstreet was very reluctant to give me up. I must say
that he did not show any particular interest in retaining me as
long as no one else wanted me. General Fitz Lee was in Richmond,
having been wounded in the Valley. I reported to him, and was
then directed to go to Harrisonburg, Va., and report to General
T. L. Rosser, who was then in command of General Lee’s Division.
I found that the head-quarters were near Harrisonburg, and was
made most cordially welcome there. Lieutenant Charles Minnigerode,
son of Dr. Minnigerode, of Richmond, was aide-de-camp to General
Lee, and he and I took a great fancy to each other immediately.
The other officers of the staff were Major Robert M. Mason, Chief
Quarter-master and acting Inspector-General of the Division; Major
W. B. Warwick, of Richmond, Chief Commissary; Dr. Archie Randolph,
Medical Director. Major J. Du Gué Ferguson, of Charleston, the
Adjutant-General of the Division, had been taken prisoner, and was
not with the command. Major Bowie, the Inspector-General, had been
wounded at Spotsylvania, and did not rejoin the division. A better
set of fellows than Fitz Lee’s staff it would have been difficult
to find. They formed in truth, according to the old phrase,
the military family of General Lee. There was no bickering, no
jealousy, no antagonism. We lived together as though we were near
relatives, and I have the fondest and truest affection for every
one of them. Major Mason is a first cousin of General Fitz Lee, and
I have not seen him for several years. Archie Randolph I have not
heard of since the war ended. Minnigerode was the last man wounded
in the Army of Northern Virginia. He was struck near the spine
by a rifle ball while riding along the lines to give the order
to cease firing, when the last flag of truce had been displayed
at Appomattox. For many months he was paralyzed, but he has now
entirely recovered, and when I last heard of him he was living in
New Orleans.
I found that it was no joke to organize the Ordnance Department of
a couple of divisions of Confederate cavalry, but I adapted myself
to circumstances, and, having some good assistants, was able to
get everything in tolerably good order. We then set out on a raid
into Hardy County, West Virginia, for the purpose of capturing
horses and cattle. The command, under the leadership of General
Rosser, had made a week or two before a very successful raid upon
New Creek, on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. They had captured
the place and brought off a vast quantity of stores of different
descriptions. The present raid was not so eventful. I had not known
what cold was before this. The snow lay on the ground a foot deep,
and the wind was so keen and bitter that it was difficult to face
it. For miles the road lay on a narrow ledge, the mountain rising
like a wall on the right, while on the left there was a nearly
perpendicular fall of six hundred feet to the Valley below, where a
brook, held in icy chains, was shining in the sun. One slip would
have sent horse and rider headlong to the bottom of the precipice.
Through such scenes as this we rode for a week without any serious
accident. Right in the midst of the mountains we came upon the
charming residence of Mr. Cunningham, who was living in a manner
that seemed entirely out of keeping with the wilderness around
him. In his house there was every comfort, with many a luxury that
in the Confederacy we had almost forgotten. Miss Annie Cunningham
was one of the prettiest women I have ever seen, and became at once
the centre of attraction with our young officers. With sleighing
parties during the day and singing and dancing at night, our short
stay in Hardy County was inexpressibly pleasant. After we left
them, as the spokesman of the enamored staff, and not speaking in
any sense for myself, I wrote a passionate epistle to Miss Annie,
which was entrusted to one of our scouts for delivery. In it I
put all the pretty phrases which were suggested by the occasion
and the object. Unluckily for me, the note did not reach the fair
Annie, but fell into the hands of the Yankees, and was published
afterwards in one of the Baltimore papers as a specimen Confederate
love letter.
There was a good deal of talk at head-quarters about Captain
Charles Cavendish, who reported to General Fitz Lee for duty at, or
about, the time that General J. E. B. Stuart was killed, at Yellow
Tavern, and who was now absent on leave. Cavendish represented
himself to be a cousin of the Duke of Devonshire, and said he held
a commission in the 18th Hussars. I knew him quite well later on,
and it is indubitable that he was a thorough soldier. General Fitz
Lee told me that just when Cavendish reported to him the enemy
were attacking in force, and one of our regiments was ordered to
charge. Cavendish was well mounted and handsomely equipped, and
asked General Lee’s permission to go in with the regiment. This
permission was at once given, and Cavendish rode off. Ten minutes
later he returned with his saddle on his head, saying that “a
blasted Yankee had fired at him from behind a tree and killed
his horse.” This was a fact. Cavendish, however, shot the Yankee.
There was some things about Cavendish that our fellows could not
understand. Riding through the woods one day, he tore the leg of
his trousers, and a bare red leg was plainly visible. Minnigerode
expressed his surprise at the sight, when Cavendish bluntly
informed him that in England gentlemen never wore drawers. The
matter was referred to me for decision, and I was unable to confirm
what Cavendish had said. It is the fact, however, I think, that
the privates and non-commissioned officers in the crack cavalry
regiments in England wear nothing but the trousers, in order to
secure a closer and better fit. Cavendish remained with us for some
time, and in Richmond led a very wild life. As usual in such cases,
he became short of money, and his drafts on his noble relatives
in England were freely discounted. Cavendish went away, and the
drafts came back dishonored. Inquiries were then made about him in
England, and it was ascertained that he was most inappropriately
named Short, and that he had been a corporal or sergeant in one of
the English cavalry regiments. Cavendish was punctilious, however,
in the discharge of his duties at our head-quarters, and paid his
mess bills as promptly as any one else.