the result of the war was to leave the state of virginia prostrate. it seemed it would require generations for the commonwealth to recover from the effects of the strife upon her own soil, the paralysis of the merchant and the farmer, and the consequent starvation of the people. and yet the people refused to repine. they accepted their lot with patience, fortitude, and dignity. whatever they may have felt, they forbore to give expression to indignation or to nurse old grudges. northern men who visited them were treated with courtesy. general ordway of the federal army records that "in richmond the people behaved with becoming reserve and dignity. i found them reasonable, courteous, and desirous of submitting to or co?perating with every measure necessary to good government. i rode through the state for several weeks accompanied only by a mounted orderly, and never failed to receive the traditional hospitality of virginia."[26]
in recalling this time i cannot remember one word of bitterness or complaint. when women met together there was talk only of "ways and 413 means," the best to be done under the new order of things.
in 1866 the state was under federal government. francis h. pierpont, who had been governor of west virginia, assumed executive authority. in 1867 virginia was placed under military government, and in the winter of that year a convention was held which framed a new constitution. this was submitted in 1869 to the people, and was adopted by a large majority. gilbert c. walker, a native of new york and a resident of virginia, was elected governor; united states senators were chosen; the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments were ratified; the military occupation, which had been found unnecessary, ceased; and virginia resumed her place in the union.
as to the negroes, they gave no trouble. individual cases of discourteous behavior were treated as they deserved, with compassionate forbearance. "you will know better by and by," i said to a negro woman who insisted upon buying her pins and needles before i was served, and she respectfully yielded me her place at the counter. once when dear old mrs. campbell, the venerated mother of virginia's historian, stopped with me in a vacant street for a lengthy comparison of household notes, a negro policeman sauntered up and said gruffly: "you can't block up dis street! you suttenly is got to 'move on.'" "and so we will—and so we will!" said the old lady, laughing. i remember on the fourth of july, 1866, my mary was ill, nervous, and distressed by the firing of a toy pistol under her 414 window. i found a young negro man quietly sitting on the curb and loading, with percussion caps, a small pistol. to my somewhat heated remonstrance, he solemnly and without the least anger remarked, "ah does ma work, an' ah pays ma taxes, an' ah has ma fun," and went on with his percussion caps. i thought there was reason in his conclusion and only regretted the work and taxes of the white man without the "fun"!
the position of the newly enfranchised negro was a most perplexing one, and in it he bore himself with wonderful discretion. every possible influence was brought to bear upon him, to make him distrust his old friends and leave his old home. early in the war he had elected for himself an attitude of perfect quiescence. the fight was a white man's fight. "but," reasoned one of his early advisers, "the fight is for your freedom; the whole trouble is about you." "that's so!" answered an old man of the "uncle remus" type. "when two dogs fight, they commonly fights for a bone. is you ever see the bone fight?" but after the conflict was over the negro realized that his new blessings brought with them stern anxieties. never having thought for himself, he was now the prey of the ill-advised counsels of his new friends. painful things occurred in our households. i never found my little lizzie, who left me after the surrender of petersburg. one day i surprised my husband's gentle mother in tears, because of the condition of a small servant who had returned to her after wandering through the country, and who was now smitten 415 with fever. my sister had reared a superb young woman, clara, whom we all loved and respected. she too disappeared, to be mourned by the entire family. six months after she left, my brother was aroused late at night by a violent ringing at the door. his wife entreated him not to open the door, for these sudden alarms were to be dreaded; but he said, "i must—i cannot help thinking clara may return." when the door was opened in the midnight darkness, a small trunk was hastily thrust in by an unseen hand, and clara fell across the threshold. she never spoke again! next day she died, and in her slender stock of clothing there was no word, no clew, to solve the mystery of her death.
as early as 1865 congress directed that an amendment to the constitution should be submitted to all the states, prescribing that "neither slavery nor involuntary servitude" should thenceforth exist in the united states. i don't know how this amendment was received by other states. virginia adopted it at once, and the new-made citizen took his place there as a constituent part of the american people. "every barrier between the races was levelled to the ground as far as the action of the federal government could effect it. the africans were now the political equals of all other americans. they were competent to vote, to preside on the bench, to command in the army, to represent the country at foreign courts, to sit in the senate, and to officiate as governors of states, and as presidents of the united states. it is not surprising 416 that president lincoln, walking through the streets of richmond after the surrender, should have gazed with 'a pathetic wonder' on the african crowd around him. by his act they had become citizens, and it is possible that he wondered at the probable result."[27]
far different has been the treatment, by this country, of our only original native americans—the north american indians!
the story of "reconstruction," and of the pangs and throes through which virginia worked out her salvation, has been told by an abler pen than mine. nor can i follow further the fortunes of our own family, of our struggle for existence in a new home, of our final reward. this will be a story for another book. eighteen months after my husband left me i had the following letter from him:—
"don't imagine i have the least idea of abandoning my experiment here. i mean 'to fight it out on this line,' to the end of the struggle. my practice increases slowly, but is based, i believe, on a conviction of my competency. thank god, what i have accomplished, though small, has been achieved by my own unaided exertions and without the least obligation to a human being. i have no patron. i have never solicited business. my only arts are study and devotion to duty. these expedients may be slow of operation but they are sure, and they leave my dignity and self-respect uncompromised. i am not conscious of having received a favor since my residence in new york: and when the victory is achieved, i shall have inexpressible 417 satisfaction in saying, with coriolanus—'alone i did it!' when i speak of 'favors,' i mean in the way of my profession. of some personal kindness i have been the grateful recipient,—though not in many instances."
within two years i followed him with our children; and if i cannot say with mr. burke, "my adopted and my dearer" home, yet so warm and abounding was the welcome accorded us that we are attached to it by the strongest ties of gratitude and affection.
the last time i visited petersburg i drove out to her battle-fields. nature had hidden the scars with beauty. the seeds of the daisy had been scattered wherever the federal forces had been encamped, and they had whitened the fields and covered the graves by the wayside. nature had not forgotten these lonely unmarked graves, nor will she ever forget, until time shall be no more.
it is not easy to write about the dreadful war between the north and the south. we press our breasts against a thorn when we recall the anguish of those days of death and disaster. it is often said that it is still too early to write the story of our civil war. it will soon be too late. some of us still live who saw those days. we should not shrink from recording what we know to be true. thus only will a full history of american courage and fidelity be preserved,—for all were americans. the glory of one is the glory of all—in 1861 when brothers were in conflict, as well as in 1898 when 418 they stood shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart against a foreign foe. circumstances do not rule the heart, and "where the heart is right, there is true patriotism."
