At the close of the war the country was under military government. The
civil courts were closed, right of public assembly denied, and the usual
further restrictions. Government headquarters were in Richmond, and
Military Commissioners controlled the separate counties under direction
from the central offices. This occupation continued for two years.
Albemarle was fortunate in the character of the U. S. Army officers who
filled this difficult role. On the first of these—Captain Linn
Tidball—several anecdotes remain. He was strict with the populace, but
also with his soldiers, and more than once disciplined them for
“unnecessary harshness in the discharge of duty.” One small incident was
as follows:
A group of soldiers stationed at the Farish house (now the old wing of
the Monticello Hotel), for a while amused themselves hanging out a
Union flag so that it impeded the sidewalk before the building. They
would then force all passers-by to halt and salute. War feeling was
still too high for this to be accepted; the populace boycotted that
walk and passed in single file down the middle of the street, with
eyes straight ahead. After a few days this came to the attention of
the officer. The flag was removed and the men reproved, on the grounds
that to use the flag for purposes of malice or sport was degrading to
its honor.
Another story:
One regulation was that Confederate uniforms might not be worn in
public. This worked much hardship on the newly-returned soldiers, who
had no other clothing and no means of procuring any. A committee
waited on the Commissioner and requested some modification. His order
was that all military buttons and insignia be removed from the coats,
and the grey could then be used until it could be replaced. Some time
later a young mountaineer was brought before him. The youth, in
Confederate uniform, had fought in the streets with Union soldiers.
When these soldiers had testified, the officer asked for the young
man’s statement. He said he had never heard of any regulations about
his uniform. He was walking along and a soldier halted him and began
to roughly cut off his buttons. “I thought he wanted them for his girl
back home, and I knocked him down. Then them other fellows come up and
they got _me_ down.” The officer called for the severed buttons, gave
them to the youth and said: “Take these home and give them to _your_
girl. She may want to keep them. Have her sew plain buttons on your
jacket, and in future, young man, don’t be so handy with your fists.”
Also, this officer showed exceptional confidence in the community. A
distressing problem for the county was to provide for the returned men
who lacked the essentials for resuming work and a normal life. A
committee of three prominent men, headed by Col. Thomas Jefferson
Randolph, grandson of Jefferson, visited the officer and asked
permission to hold a public meeting for discussion of the situation.
Col. Randolph stated that the committee would be personally responsible
for the good conduct of the crowd, and would vouch for the propriety of
all speeches. The officer not only gave his consent—he stated he would
allow it to take place without guards. The meeting was held in the old
Levy Opera House, now the Park View Apts., on the corner of Park and
East High Streets. The contract was strictly observed on both sides.
It is interesting to note the sectional adjustment achieved in only a
decade. On July 21, 1876, Memorial Services commemorating the first
battle of Manassas were held in Charlottesville by the 19th Virginia
Regiment. Tents were pitched in the court house yard, and banners
stretched across the streets inscribed with appropriate mottoes. At the
banquet, one toast was: “The American Union.” Col. R. T. W. Duke,
C.S.A., responded, “May it endure for all time.” See _Charlottesville
Chronicle, July 28, 1876_. _Alderman Library, University of Virginia._
[Illustration: Monticello. _Gitchell’s Studio_]