The Federal officers in Richmond gave several public dancing
parties, or “Hops” as they were called, at the different hotels,
and desired that the Richmond ladies should attend them. There
was, of course, too much feeling against the North at this time
to permit anything of the sort, and the only Richmond women who
attended these “Hops” were the wives and daughters of the present
and prospective office holders under the United States Government.
The newspapers were not invited to send reporters to the “Hops,”
but the _Examiner_ managed always to have a man there, and gave a
highly colored report of them the morning after the occurrence,
describing and naming the Richmond people who were there, and
dressing up the whole account in a style of mingled bitterness
and ridicule. J. Marshall Hanna, the principal local reporter for
the _Examiner_, did most of the work on these reports, and it was
he, by the way, who described the elopement of Miss Grant which
had so tragical consequences. The Federal officers were indignant
at the way in which their efforts at reconciliation were treated
by the _Examiner_, but another “Hop” was announced. This was
in March, 1866. We prepared ourselves for a report that should
out-Herod Herod. Hanna, Mr. Fred. Daniel, and I were engaged on
it, and we called into requisition every apt quotation we could
find in French and Italian, as well as in English. The report
being finished, I went to a ball to which I had been invited, and
did not return to the office until near daylight. At the office
door I found a sentry, who halted me and refused to allow me to
pass into the building. To my astonishment I then learned that
the Federal Commandant at Richmond had taken possession of the
_Examiner_ office, and had suspended its publication, on account
of the malignant and disloyal reports of the famous Yankee “Hops.”
It was with great difficulty that I induced the guard to allow
me to go up to my room for more suitable attire. Riordan told me
that he was at his desk working quietly on his exchanges, when he
heard a dull tramp, tramp in the street, and then tramp, tramp
on the stairs, and then tramp, tramp in the outer room, and the
command “halt!” and the rattle of muskets on the floor. By this
time he began to think that something unusual was happening, and
was sure of it when an officer entered the room and told him that
he had orders to seize the whole establishment, and that he and
everyone else connected with the paper must leave the place at
once. This arbitrary and lawless proceeding did not shock me as
much as it ought to have done, inasmuch as it held out the promise
of a holiday, which I knew I could pass delightfully with my fair
friends in Richmond; but the very day that the _Examiner_ was
shut up the proprietors of the Richmond _Dispatch_ sent for me,
and offered me a salary of $25 a week if I would go on the staff
of that paper. Mr. Pollard made no objection, and I went to work
at once on the _Dispatch_. The _Examiner_ remained in possession
of the military authorities for about two weeks I think, and was
only released when a peremptory order to that end was given by the
President himself.
On the _Dispatch_ I was legislative and local reporter, and was
handsomely treated. One of my colleagues was Captain J. Innes
Randolph, who had played that ’possum trick on me at Bunker
Hill, on the retreat from Gettysburg. Randolph was a man of many
accomplishments. He played the piano and violin charmingly, was
a skillful engineer, a very capable lawyer, and wrote charmingly
in both prose and verse. “The Good Old Rebel” is one of his
productions, and his lines on the statue of Marshall, which now
stands in the Capitol Square, are worth remembering. Randolph is
the son of Lieutenant Randolph of the Navy, who tweaked President
Jackson’s nose, and has something of his father’s temper. A more
cranky and irritable fellow is rarely met with. He lives in
Baltimore, and is now on the staff of the _American_. I have not
seen him for several years.