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Visit from General Meade.

Of a different kind, and far more pleasant is the last thing I shall put down in these reminiscences. More pleasant because it relates to a visit we had from General George C. Meade. My mother, who still lives a vigorous old lady—though she doesn't think so—of 80 years, was a daughter of the late George M. Dallas, Vice-President under Mr. Polk, and was related to or connected by marriage with General Meade. They had known each other well before the war, but, of course, had not seen each other since it began, as my mother was all the while in Richmond. One morning we were much surprised, and, indeed, somewhat startled, by seeing a very distinguished-looking man, wearing the insignia of a United States general, stop and dismount before our front door. He was accompanied, I think, by his staff, in full uniform, and was followed, not unnaturally, by quite a crowd of negroes. I presume these latter thought, perhaps, we were all to be arrested and sent to the calaboose, as our strong Southern sentiments were pretty well known. But such, I am happy to say, was not in the programme. After he discounted, General Meade, followed by one of his staff, also my mother's cousin, came on the porch and rang the bell. It fell to my lot to answer this call, and as this was the first time I had ever been so close to a ‘Yankee general,’ I felt, boyishly, half resentful and half abashed. Of course, I did not know either who it was or what he wanted. Just as he asked, in the kindliest tones, if Dr. Tucker lived there, my little sister, a flaxen-haired girl, appeared in the hall, and, with a smile on his face, the General quickly said: ‘I know he does, for that child is the image of her mother’—calling my mother by her maiden name. Then he told who he was, and asked for my mother. He was shown into our little parlor, and soon the latter came in also. Naturally, both seemed at first a little awkward, and bowed stiffly—my mother especially, I think—and sat down, when a silence ensued, which neither party seemed to know exactly how to break. As a matter of fact, it was broken at last by the General, in tones of deep sympathy. My recollection is he said this: ‘L——, it has certainly been awful, but I have not come to discuss the past, but to see what you and your family need, and what I can do for you.’ These words, spoken in such quiet dignity, yet with so much warm sympathy, broke the icy reserve, and, in the conversation which followed, not only were many pleasant things said on both sides, but the good offices of the General were

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