We went there in an ambulance, and we went together,--the Colonel and I;
and though two men were never more unlike, we worked together like two
brothers, or like two halves of a pair of shears. That we got _in_ was
owing, perhaps, to me; that we got _out_ was due altogether to him; and
a man more cool, more brave, more self-reliant, and more self-devoted
than that quiet "Western parson" it never was my fortune to encounter.
When the far-away Boston bells were sounding nine, on the morning of
Saturday, the sixteenth of July, we took our glorious Massachusetts
General by the hand, and said to him,--
"Good bye. If you do not see us within ten days, you will know we have
'gone up.'"
"If I do not see you within that time," he replied, "I'll demand you;
and if they don't produce you, body and soul, I'll take two for
one,--better men than you are,--and hang them higher than Haman. My hand
on that. Good bye."
At three o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, mounted on two
raw-boned relics of Sheridan's great raid, and armed with a letter to
Jeff. Davis, a white cambric handkerchief tied to a short stick, and an
honest face,--this last was the Colonel's,--we rode up to the Rebel
lines. A ragged, yellow-faced boy, with a carbine in one hand, and
another white handkerchief tied to another short stick in the other,
came out to meet us.
"Can you tell us, my man, where to find Judge Ould, the Exchange
Commissioner?"
"Yas. Him and t'other 'Change officers is over ter the plantation beyont
Miss Grover's. Ye'll know it by its hevin' nary door nur winder [the
mansion, he meant]. They's all busted in. Foller the bridle-path through
the timber, and keep your rag a-flyin', fur our boys is thicker 'n
huckelberries in them woods, and they mought pop ye, ef they didn't seed
it."
Thanking him, we turned our horses into the "timber," and, galloping
rapidly on, soon came in sight of the deserted plantation. Lolling on
the grass, in the shade of the windowless mansion, we found the
Confederate officials. They rose as we approached; and one of us said to
the Judge,--a courteous, middle-aged gentleman, in a Panama hat, and a
suit of spotless white drillings,--
"We are late, but it's your fault. Your people fired at us down the
river, and we had to turn back and come overland."
"You don't suppose they saw your flag?"
"No. It was hidden by the trees; but a shot came uncomfortably near us.
It struck the water, and ricochetted not three yards off. A little
nearer, and it would have shortened me by a head, and the Colonel by two
feet."
"That would have been a sad thing for you; but a miss, you know, is as
good as a mile," said the Judge, evidently enjoying the "joke."
"We hear Grant was in the boat that followed yours, and was struck while
at dinner," remarked Captain Hatch, the Judge's Adjutant,--a gentleman,
and about the best-looking man in the Confederacy.
"Indeed! Do you believe it?"
"I don't know, of course"; and his looks asked for an answer. We gave
none, for all such information is contraband. We might have told him
that Grant, Butler, and Foster examined their position from Mrs.
Grover's house,--about four hundred yards distant,--two hours after the
Rebel cannon-ball danced a break-down on the Lieutenant-General's
dinner-table.
We were then introduced to the other officials,--Major Henniken of the
War Department, a young man formerly of New York, but now scorning the
imputation of being a Yankee, and Mr. Charles Javins, of the
Provost-Guard of Richmond. This latter individual was our shadow in
Dixie. He was of medium height, stoutly built, with a short, thick neck,
and arms and shoulders denoting great strength. He looked a natural-born
jailer, and much such a character as a timid man would not care to
encounter, except at long range of a rifle warranted to five twenty
shots a minute, and to hit every time.
To give us a _moonlight view_ of the Richmond fortifications, the Judge
proposed to start after sundown; and as it wanted some hours of that
time, we seated ourselves on the ground, and entered into conversation.
The treatment of our prisoners, the _status_ of black troops, and
non-combatants, and all the questions which have led to the suspension
of exchanges, had been good-naturedly discussed, when the Captain,
looking up from one of the Northern papers we had brought him, said,--
"Do you know, it mortifies me that you don't hate us as we hate you? You
kill us as Agassiz kills a fly,--because you love us."
"Of course we do. The North is being crucified for love of the South."
"If you love us so, why don't you let us go?" asked the Judge, rather
curtly.
"For that very reason,--because we love you. If we let you go, with
slavery, and your notions of 'empire,' you'd run straight to barbarism
and the Devil."
"We'd take the risk of that. But let me tell you, if you are going to
Mr. Davis with any such ideas, you might as well turn back at once. He
can make peace on no other basis than Independence. Recognition must be
the beginning, middle, and ending of all negotiations. Our people will
accept peace on no other terms."
"I think you are wrong there," said the Colonel. "When I was here a year
ago, I met many of your leading men, and they all assured me they wanted
peace and reunion, even at the sacrifice of slavery. Within a week, a
man you venerate and love has met me at Baltimore, and besought me to
come here, and offer Mr. Davis peace on such conditions."
"That may be. Some of our old men, who are weak in the knees, may want
peace on any terms; but the Southern people will not have it without
Independence. Mr. Davis knows them, and you will find he will insist
upon that. Concede that, and we'll not quarrel about minor matters."
"We'll not quarrel at all. But it's sundown, and time we were 'on to
Richmond.'"
"That's the 'Tribune' cry," said the Captain, rising; "and I hurrah for
the 'Tribune,' for it's honest, and--I want my supper."
We all laughed, and the Judge ordered the horses. As we were about to
start, I said to him,--
"You've forgotten our parole."
"Oh, never mind that. We'll attend to that at Richmond."
Stepping into his carriage, and unfurling the flag of truce, he then led
the way, by a "short cut," across the cornfield which divided the
mansion from the high-road. We followed in an ambulance drawn by a pair
of mules, our shadow--Mr. Javins--sitting between us and the twilight,
and Jack, a "likely darky," almost the sole survivor of his master's
twelve hundred slaves, ("De ress all stole, Massa,--stole by you
Yankees,") occupying the front-seat, and with a stout whip "working our
passage" to Richmond.
Much that was amusing and interesting occurred during our three-hours'
journey, but regard for our word forbids my relating it. Suffice it to
say, we saw the "frowning fortifications," we "flanked" the "invincible
army," and, at ten o'clock that night, planted our flag (against a
lamp-post) in the very heart of the hostile city. As we alighted at the
doorway of the Spotswood Hotel, the Judge said to the Colonel,--
"Button your outside-coat up closely. Your uniform must not be seen
here."
The Colonel did as he was bidden; and, without stopping to register our
names at the office, we followed the Judge and the Captain up to No. 60.
It was a large, square room in the fourth story, with an unswept, ragged
carpet, and bare, white walls, smeared with soot and tobacco-juice.
Several chairs, a marble-top table, and a pine wash-stand and
clothes-press straggled about the floor, and in the corners were three
beds, garnished with tattered pillow-cases, and covered with white
counterpanes, grown gray with longing for soapsuds and a wash-tub. The
plainer and humbler of these beds was designed for the burly Mr. Javins;
the others had been made ready for the extraordinary envoys (not envoys
extraordinary) who, in defiance of all precedent and the "law of
nations," had just then "taken Richmond."
A single gas-jet was burning over the mantel-piece, and above it I saw a
"writing on the wall" which implied that Jane Jackson had run up a
washing-score of fifty dollars!
I was congratulating myself on not having to pay that woman's
laundry-bills, when the Judge said,--
"You want supper. What shall we order?"
"A slice of hot corn-bread would make _me_ the happiest man in
Richmond."