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General A. P. Hill. Presentation of his statue to A. P. Hill Camp, Petersburg, Virginia.

Interesting ceremonies-distinguished visitors from Richmond—Speeches made on the Occasion—The banquet and toasts.

[From the Petersburg Index. Appeal, November 30, 1892.]

The unveiling of the imposing statue of General A. P. Hill, a gift from the Pegram Battalion Association, of Richmond, to A. P. Hill Camp, of this city, which took place last evening in the hall of the camp, on Tabb street, will mark an important epoch in the [185] history of the camp, and will always be remembered with many pleasant recollections by the old vets of this gallant ‘Cockade City.’ At six o'clock the members of the camp, in full uniform, began to rendezvous at their hall, and half an hour later, headed by their splendid drum corps, marched to the Union depot to meet their guests from Richmond, who arrived here shortly before 7 o'clock. They were Colonel William H. Palmer, Colonel Alexander W. Archer, Major Robert Stiles, Honorable J. Taylor Ellyson, Major Thomas A. Brander, R. B. Munfora, Honorable Joseph Bryan, William R. Trigg, Colonel William E. Tanner, Tudge Henry W. Flournoy, Colonel William P. Smith, Colonel John Murphy, Captain Thomas Ellett, Judge George L. Christian, William Ellis Jones, Captain John Tyler, Colonel G. Percy Hawes, E. H. Clowes, Colonel John B. Purcell, D. S. Redford, and Colonel W. M. Evans.

The camp and their guests marched from the depot through some of the principal streets thence to their hall. Here a short time was spent in social greeting. At 7.30 o'clock Captain W. Gordon McCabe, commander of A. P. Hill Camp, rapped the assemblage to order, and then the white cloth, which concealed the bronze statue of that gallant soldier and Chieftain A. P. Hill from view, was removed by Comrade W. H. Baxter amidst loud applause from the old Confederate veterans present.

Major Thomas A. Brander, of Richmond, then on behalf of Pegram Battalion Association, presented the statue to A. P. Hill Camp.

Major Brander's speech.

Commander McCabe and Comrades of A. P. Hill Camp:

It is with pleasure that I am with you to-night, to honor the memory of one who was so dear to us all. As I am unaccustomed to public speaking, and feel so unequal to the duty assigned me, I must beg that you will pardon me, if I read what I have to say on this interesting occasion.

When 1 recall the names of R. L. Walker, W. J. Pegram, James and Robert Ellett, Greenlee Davidson, John and Ellis Munford, Edward Maynee, Joseph McGraw, G. M. Cayce and a host of others who formed one of the grandest artillery battalions in the Army of Northern Virginia, and who have now passed away, it awakens the tenderest memories of the past. [186]

In July, 1887, the Pegram Battalion Association, composed of the surviving members of batteries everyone of which were attached to the brigades forming A. P. Hill's Light Division, and afterwards as Pegram's battalion attached to the same division, and to the Third Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia, feeling that it would be becoming and proper in their Association, in the absence of any other organization to take the lead, as well as to show their admiration and love for their old division and corps commander, to organize an association for the purpose of erecting a monument to his memory worthy of his gallantry and fame. From this movement the A. P. Hill Monument Association was formed, and after five years continued struggle they accomplished their purpose, and on the 30th of May last dedicated a monument of enduring granite and bronze, in a measure worthy of the man. Having preserved the plaster cast of the figure, our Association thought that it might be acceptable to the A. P. Hill Camp, of Petersburg, and now as president of the A. P. Hill Monument Association, I take great pleasure in presenting the same to your camp, bearing his name, knowing that it will be preserved and handed down to future generations, not for its intrinsic value, but for the love and admiration that we all have for him, not only as a man, but as a gallant officer and a true patriot.

Captain M'Cabe's speech.

Major Brander and Gentlemen of the Monument Commiitee of the Pegram Battalion Association:

On behalf of the A. P. Hill Camp of Confederate Veterans, which I have the honor to command, I accept with profound gratitude your munificent gift of this statue of our old corps commander.

And, at the outset, I am sure I may be pardoned for recalling with a soldier's honest pride that it is my good fortune to be knit by no common ties, both to the donors and the recipients of this superb work of art.

For, while I stand here to-night, through the too generous partiality of my comrades, as the official representative of this Camp, never can I forget, while life lasts, that, as Adjutant of the famous ‘fighting battalion’ of the Army of Northern Virginia, I followed with you on more than a score of crimson fields the headquarter battle-flag of our boy-colonel, William Johnson Pegram—the pride of of his corps, the most brilliant artillerist of all Virginia's immortal [187] youth, whose bright and gracious figure sweeps athwart our troubled story ‘wearing his wounds like stars.’

But on such an occasion as this, we do not think so much of the battalion, the regiment, the brigade, or the division, to which each of us belonged, but rather recall, with common pride, that it was given us in those heroic days to stand shoulder to shoulder in the grand old Third Corps, whose name, despite the malice of fortune, has been writ for all time in crimson letters in the very ‘Temple of Victory.’

Here we gather to-night, our hearts stirred by countless proud memories of hardships shared together as good soldiers in a good cause, of disaster met with quiet constancy, of glorious victory wrested time and again from cruel odds by skill and daring—here, we gather to-night in the temper that becomes brave men to do honor to the memory of the brave—that beloved commander, whose character was as stainless as that of knightly Galahad, whose patriotism was of the same stern fibre as that of the old champions of freedom, and whose valor was as tried and true as that of any Paladin, who died in Roncevalle's Pass.

Aye! as England's greatest singer sang of England's greatest soldier, such our proud claim for A. P. Hill:

Whatever record leaps to light,
He never shall be shamed.

And cold, indeed, must be the heart of him who can look upon this calm, majestic countenance, untouched by any shadow of ignoble thought, and not be stirred with a very passion of pride that it was allowed him, no matter how humble his rank—that it was allowed him, when all the land was girdled with steel and fire, to follow the tattered battle flags of such a brilliant and dauntless soldier.

As we gaze upon the familiar face, fashioned with such cunning by the sculptor's art, that we almost listen to catch from the bearded mouth the sharp, stern word of command, it seems but yesterday that we greeted him with our hoarse cheering, as clad, not, indeed, in such garb as this, but in his simple ‘fighting jacket,’ and old slouch hat, with no badge of rank save that which God had written on his noble face, he rode amid the dust and sweat of battle down the thin gray lines, or drew rein in the centre of the blackened guns amid ‘the fiery pang of shell,’ and marked with the fierce joy of victorious fight how the serried columns of blue melted away under the pitiless iron sleet. [188]

But noble as is this statue, impressive as is the monument, which but a few months ago you erected to the memory of this hero in the capital of our ancient Commonwealth, there is yet a nobler, a more impressive, a more enduring monument, that, under God, may be reared by even the humblest of his followers to commemorate the virtues of this stainless soldier.

High and clear the greatest historian of the Roman world strikes the key-note of this immortal truth, when he bids the wife and daughter of Agricola to honor the memory of that illustrious soldier by pondering in their thoughts all his deeds and words, and by cherishing the features and lineaments of his character rather than those of his person.

‘It is not,’ he says, ‘that I would forbid the likenesses that are wrought in marble and in bronze, but as the faces of men, so all similitudes of the face are weak and perishable things, while the fashion of the soul is everlasting, such, as may be expressed, not in some foreign substance or by the help of art, but in our own lives.’

So, oh! my comrades, shall we rear a monument more enduring than bronze statue or marble shaft, if in the lives of such men as A. P. Hill we and our children and children's children shall find their highest inspiration to be fearless, to be constant, to be loyal to duty in ‘the homelier fray’ of daily life!

I have spoken of the stainless purity of Sir Galahad and the knightly valor of those stout Paladins who died in Roncevalle's Pass, but, in truth, no Southern man in illustrating to his children all those stern and gentle virtues, which noble souls reckon the highest, need even turn to poet's lay or stirring page of Plutarch, but rather tell in simplest phrase how lived and died a Hill, a Jackson, and a Lee.

Blood is not wasted when a hero bleeds—
Earth drinks it not alone; a nation's heart
Absorbs the precious rain, whose atoms start
New life that runs its course in noble deeds.

The war has now been over more than a quarter of a century, and time, as is inevitable, has brought with it new conditions and new duties, which, none worthy of the name of man, may shirk. A great English thinker has pithily said that ‘the reward of one duty is the power to fulfil another,’ and who that knows our people can deny that the best guarantee of fitness for dealing with the problems in every relation of life that have confronted us in these days of peace, has been single-minded devotion in the stormy days of war to that [189] Cause, which claimed the passionate fealty of five millions of people—and that too a people, whose fathers had borne by far the greater share in wresting from English tyranny the freedom of the Western world.

It was a Cause worthy of the heroic sacrifices made by that people—a Cause, which developed to heroic pitch by fire of battle the noblest virtues which God has allowed to mortal men. Surely, it is meet that we shall seek to perpetuate to all coming time the wondrous record of that antique valor, that incorruptible patriotism, that passionate devotion to principle, regardless of the cost, which shall prove to generations yet unborn the noblest obligation to bear themselves as not unworthy of their heroic strain—which, so far from mantling their cheeks with the blush of shame, shall make them fitly proud that they are the descendants of the men, who knew how to bear defeat because untouched of dishonor, and who, strong in the immortal truth that ‘God and our consciences alone give measure of right and wrong,’ met with unshaken front the very stroke of Fate.

Peace has come! God give his blessing
On the fact and on the name!
The South speaks no invective,
And she writes no word of blame—
But we call all men to witness.
That we stand up without shame.

‘Rebel’ he was, and is, to the ‘cheap patriots’ of the hour, who feared to look upon his face when his sword was girded on his thigh. ‘Rebel’ too, was Virginia's greatest son of our First Revolution in the mouths of those who denied the chartered liberties of our ‘Old Dominion.’ But to day, under every sun and in every clime, the name of that immortal ‘Rebel’ is the synonym of the loftiest patriotism, of sternest devotion to Constitutional freedom.

Yet, had not success been his, Washington were none the less a patriot and a champion of freedom.

So, oh, my comrades of countless hard-fought field for Truth, for Justice and for Right, holding fast to the ennobling traditions of our heroic past, which teach us that patriotism is patriotism and that principle is principle, whether glorified by victory or shrouded in defeat—so shall we honor the memory of such men as Ambrose Powell Hill, who did not fear to die that they might transmit to their children the heritage bequeathed them by their fathers.

The speech of Commander McCabe was received with loud applause, and many of those present, including some of the ladies, congratulated him on his fine effort. [190]

The following ladies were in attendance upon the presentation ceremonies:

Mrs. W. Gordon McCabe, Mrs. S. H. Marks, Mrs. William Alexander, Mrs. J. B. Blanks, Mrs. R. T. Stone, Mrs. W. S. Simpson, Mrs. J. G. Griswold, Miss Ida Baxter, Miss——Stevens, Mrs. S. L. Simpson, of Charleston, and Miss Mary Simpson.

The banquet.

The presentation ceremonies over, the camp and their invited guests repaired to the banquet hall, where a fine collation was spread. After the company had been seated and a blessing asked by Commander McCabe, there was a clatter of knives and forks, and then about one hundred and fifty who wore the gray proceeded to dispose of the elegant spread.

The following were the regular toasts and responses:


[Captain W. Gordon McCabe, Commander A. P. Hill Camp, No. 6, C. V., toast-master.]

I. Our guests.

‘Their worth is warrant of their welcome.’

Response by Colonel John B. Purcell, of Richmond.

Ii. The Infantry of the Army of Northern Virginia.

‘That array of tattered uniforms and bright muskets—that body of incomparable infantry, which for four years carried the revolt on its bayonets; and which died only with its annihilation.’

Response by Hon. Richard B. Davis, of Petersburg.

Iii. The Artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia.

The sound of the guns shall never be hushed by the roar of the ‘River Time.’

Response by Judge George L. Christian, of Richmond.

Judge George L. Christian, of Richmond, in response to the toast, The Artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia, said: [191]

Mr. Chairman and Comrades.

I esteem it a great privilege to be permitted to meet with you to-night and I pity from the bottom of my heart the citizen of Virginia who does not feel always at home and among friends, in this hospitable and beautiful battle crowned Cockade city of the south-side. I greet you my comrades of Petersburg, as a brother from a sister city, which claims no higher privilege than to share with you the common glories of the past, and who wishes to walk hand in hand with you in all the achievements of the future. It is doubtless frequently asked by those who were opposed to us in the late struggle, and by those who were too young or too craven to take any part in that war, why is it that we old Confederate soldiers love to come together as we do, thank God, and ‘fight our battles over again,’ in the face of the fact, that the world has generally thus far recorded the result of those battles as a signal failure and the cause for which we fought a ‘lost cause.’ Is it natural, they doubtless ask, for men to love to celebrate their short comings and their failures? No it is not. But the reasons we love to meet and to greet each other, and to erect memorials of our war deeds, is that aside from the fact, that our friendships are cemented with our blood we knew during the war and have known better ever since then, if possible, that the cause for which we staked our lives and our all, was the cause of right and justice, and we know that the impartial historian of the future, will be compelled to so record the verdict, when that record is finally made up. Not only this, but we know too that he will be forced to add to that record the further fact, that the pathway of the struggle made by the Confederate soldier for freedom, and for constitutional liberty, is illumined by nought but self-sacrifice, heroism, glory, patriotism and devotion to duty from one end of it to the other.

Knowing these things, then, my comrades, as you and I know them to be true, the ex-Confederate soldier who does not feel his heart aglow and whose bosom does not swell with emotion and pride on occasions and amid surroundings like these, is unworthy of the name or to share in that fame which you and I cherish as a priceless heritage to transmit to our children and our children's children; and one of the greatest incentives which we have for coming together on these occasions is to show to our posterity that we have done nothing to be sorry for or to be ashamed of. But let me ask you a [192] question. Did you ever see one man out of the nearly seven hundred thousand who were in the Confederate army who was ashamed of that fact in his history? I never did, and never expect to, and if I should be so unfortunate as to meet any such creature, I shall tell him he is a craven and a coward, and I know I can talk as I please, with impunity, to ‘such a wretch’ as that. Could this be so if our cause was an unholy one? No, never.

No nation rose so white and fair
     Or fell so free of crimes.

Eternal right, though all else fail,
     Can never be made wrong.

But, although this is a most attractive strain to me, I must forbear, in order to say something in responding to the toast which has been assigned to me this evening—‘The Artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia.’

What possibilities were once embraced within what was represented by that name. Nay, what almost impossibilities have they not performed in the field and on the march, and what memories of the deeds of this heroic band come trooping before me in imagination as I stand here to-night? Within the limits of a ten minutes speech I cannot begin to recount them, but must content myself with only a very few ‘glittering generalities.’

I must say in advance that, in my opinion, that credit has not been generally accorded the artillery of the army, which that branch of the service is entitled to, and, I think, this is conceded by all who thought and who know anything of the subject. The artillery, although recognized as the highest branch of the service, and therefore demanding in its service and equipment the best talent and best materials can only be used in the ‘real business’ of the engagement, and the commanding generals, being almost always promoted from, or in immediate command of infantry or cavalry, are almost always, unintentionally or unconsciously, partial to these last named branches of service. Then again the artillery affords little or no opportunity for individual deeds of gallantry, which are so often performed, which attract attention on the field, and are commented on in each of the other branches of the service; each artillerist being dependent on the conduct of several others for the proper discharge of his duties. The artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia too [193] went into the field worse equipped to meet their opposers than any other branch of the service, whilst they had to combat from the first the fire of the best equipped batteries, with the most improved guns and ammunition then known to the science of warfare. The artillery of our army came out of the war with at least ninety per cent. of its guns, ammunition and equipment captured from the enemy, which fact tells its own story, and there is no page in the splendid history of the Army of Northern Virginia more luminous with glory and heroism than that which is emblazoned with the flashes of artillery which belonged to that army. Are there any more glorious names on the proud and immortal roll of fame than those of Pelham, of Pegram, of Latimer, of Coleman, of Crutchfield, of Brown, of Watson, of McCarthy, and a thousand others that I might mention?

Could anything be more incomplete than the history of the Army of Northern Virginia, with the splendid parts performed by the Washington Artillery Battalion, the Howitzer Battalion, Pegram's glorious battalion, Jones's, Carter's, Andrew's, Poagne's and dozens of other battalions and batteries, the equals, in every respect, of any of those I have named? As I remarked before, I cannot begin to recount the splendid deeds of skill and daring, of privation, heroism and devotion to duty performed, on the march and on the field, by the soldiers of these splendid commands. Listen for a moment, whilst I read to you what was said of this arm of the service by some of those in command on the memorable field of Gettysburg, on which was fought the greatest artillery duel known to the annals of modern warfare. A field on which my own battery fired six-hundred and sixty-one rounds (next to the largest number fired by any battery in our corps on the field), where I saw two as noble youths as ever gave their lives to their country almost cut in twain at one of our guns, and two other bright and gallant boys at once step in and take the places of those who were shot down with such promptness and alacrity as to cause little or no intermission in the firing of the gun at which the fearful casualty had occurred.

General A. P. Hill, who was standing between the guns of my battery a portion of the time during the battle of Gettysburg, and by whose command I fired a house which afforded shelter to the enemy's sharpshooters, striking it three times out of four, at a distance of a mile and a half. He, who was the very soul chivalry and of truth, thus refers to some of the work of the artillery in his report [194] of that great conflict. He says: ‘At one o'clock our artillery opened, and for two hours rained an incessant storm of missiles upon the enemy's lines. The effect was marked along my front, driving the enemy entirely from his guns.’ General Early, in his report of the same battle, gives place to this short statement about two commands, only one of which (Jones's) was with him in that fight, viz: ‘The conduct of Lieutenant-Colonel Jones, and his artillery battalion, on all occassions, as well as that of Brown's (my own) at Winchester was admirable.’

Colonel J. Thompson Brown, our own brave commander, who yielded up his pure life on the field of Spotsylvania (where I was so fearfully maimed) in his report of Gettysburg says: ‘In this engagement, as in the one at Winchester, the officers and men (of his battalion) behaved with the greatest gallantry, fully sustaining the high character which they had previously borne.’

Major (afterwards general) James Dearing in his report of the same battle says: ‘The behavior of officers and men was all that could be desired by any commander. They were all cool and collected and in earnest, and perfectly indifferent to danger.’

Colonel H. P. Jones says: ‘My thanks are due to both officers and men for their conduct in the presence of the enemy, and the patience with which they endured the hardships of the campaign.’

Colonel Cabell says: ‘I have not language to express my admiration of the coolness and courage displayed by the officers and men on the field of this great battle. Their acts speak for them. In the successive skirmishes in which a portion of the battalion was engaged, and when placed in line of battle near Hagerstown, inviting and expecting an attack, their cool courage and energy are above praise. In crossing rivers, in overcoming the difficulties of a tedious march, in providing for the horses of the battalion, no officers ever exhibited greater energy and efficiency. Passing over muddy roads, exposed to rain nearly every day, they bore the difficulties of the march without a murmer of dissatisfaction. All seemed engaged in a cause which made privation, endurance and any sacrifice, a labor of love.’

General R. Lindsay Walker says: ‘The conduct of the officers and men of this corps was in the highest degree satisfactory, evincing as they did without exception, throughout the long and trying [195] marches to and from Pennsylvania, the utmost fortitude and patient endurance, under fatigue, and zeal and gallantry in action.’

General Long in his life of General Lee says, in speaking of the work at Gettysburg:

‘There ensued one of the most tremendous engagements ever witnessed on an open field; the hills shook and quivered beneath the thunder of two hundred and twenty-five guns as if they were about to be torn and rent by some powerful convulsion. In the words of General Hancock, in reference to the performance of the opposing batteries, their artillery fire was the most terrific cannonade and the most prolonged, one possibly hardly ever paralleled. For more than an hour this fierce artillery conflict continued, when the Federal guns began to slacken their fire under the heavy blows of the Confederate batteries, and ere long sank into silence.’

General Howard in an article in the Atlantic Monthly, in speaking of the effect produced by this splendid work of the artillery at Gettysburg, says: ‘I have thought that the fearful exposure of General Meade's headquarters, where so much havoc was occasioned by the enemy's artillery, had so impressed him, that he did not at first realize the victory he had won.’

But Gettysburg was not the only field of which I wish to speak. In his report of the first battle of Fredericksburg, General Lee says:

The artillery rendered efficient service on every part of the field, and greatly assisted in the defeat of the enemy. The batteries were exposed to an unusually heavy fire of artillery and infantry, which officers and men sustained with coolness and courage worthy of the highest praise.

In his report of the Battle of Chancellorsville, he says:

To the skillful and efficient management of the artillery, the successful issue of the contest is in a great measure due. The ground was not favorable for its employment, but every suitable position was taken with alacrity, and the operations of the infantry supported and assisted with a spirit and courage not second to their own. It bore a prominent part in the final assault which ended in driving the enemy from the field of Chancellorsville, silencing his batteries, and by a destructive enfilade fire upon his works, opened the way for the advance of our troops.

Colonels Crutchfield, Alexander and Walker, and Lieutenantonels [196] Brown, Carter and Andrews, with the officers and men of their commands, are numbered as deserving especial commendation.

General Lee never had the time to write a report of the most brilliant campaign ever fought by him with the Army of Northern Virginia, and, in my opinion, the most brilliant that ever was fought by any general, with any army, a campaign, in which the movements of General Lee were so daring and wonderful, that a writer has said, they must have reminded General Grant of what a martinet Austrian general once said of Napoleon. On one occasion when asked by a French officer what he thought of the state of the war, he replied:

Nothing could be worse on your side. Here you have a youth who knows nothing of the rules of war. To-day he is in our rear, to morrow on our flank, next day in our front. Such gross violations of the principles of the art of war are not to be supported.

I refer, of course, to the campaign against Grant, from the Rapidan to Petersburg, in which Swinton says the Army of Northern Virginia killed and wounded more of the enemy than it had men in its ranks.

Although this campaign is teeming with the splendid work of the artillery from the beginning to the end I can only refer to one of its performances. General Ewell in speaking of the battle of the 18th May, 1864, at Spottsylvania courthouse, says:

‘When well within range General Long opened upon them with thirty pieces of artillery which, with the fire of our skirmishers, broke and drove them back with severe loss. We afterwards learned that they were two fresh divisions nearly ten thousand strong, just come up from the rear.’

And it is a remarkable fact in the history of the Army of Northern Virginia that the first gun fired on Virginia soil, as well as the last fired by that army, was fired by the artillery.

Can the record of any men be more brilliant in all the achievements of manhood than that I have just read in your hearing? It was on the stout hearts and strong and willing arm of ‘men of this metal’ that Lee and Jackson and the other great leaders of our armies learned to lean for support, and from whose deeds of valor, so well directed by them, these leaders snatched a fame which has ‘echoed around the world.’ And some of these old artillerists constitute the bulwarks of society in this Southland to-day. [197]

What constitutes a State?
     Not high raised battlements, nor labored mound,
Thick wall, nor moated gate,
     Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned,
Not bays, not broad armed ports,
     Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred nor spangled courts,
     Where low browed baseness lends perfume to pride.
No, men! highminded men,
     Men who their duties know,
But know the right, and knowing dare maintain,
     Prevent the long aimed blow,
Then crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain,
     These constitute a State.

And it was of such as these that the artillerists of the Army of Northern Virginia was composed. As they served their guns in war, so they served their country in war and in peace, and deserve well of their countrymen and countrywomen. God bless them always.

But the end of the war came, and with that end came the beginning of sacrifices and sorrows, as well as the greatest services to their country, of the artillerists of the Army of Northern Virginia. When on the fated field of Appomattox these old soldiers grounded their trusted and well worn arms, to what did they return? Not to the homes of peace and plenty they had enlisted from four years before, but to devastation, desolation, ruin and almost to despair.

Where my home was glad, were ashes,
     For horror and shame had been there.

We had seen from the smoking village
     The mothers and daughters fly,
We had seen where the little children
     Sank down in the furrows to die;
From the far off conquered cities
     Came the voice of stifled wail,
And the moans and shrieks of the houseless
     Rang out like a dirge on the gale.

It was with scenes and surroundings like these that the old artillerists of the Army of Northern Virginia found themselves confronted when they laid down their arms. Could they have faced these new and frightful dangers and surroundings, this ‘abomination of desolation standing over against then’ without their hearts sinking [198] within them and settling down into irretrievable despair, had they not been used to facing dangers in every form, overcoming seeming impossibilities for the four intervening years, and had they not been only ‘wearied and worn out with victories’ on an hundred fields? To ask this question is to furnish its answer. But this desolation of their homes was not all, by any ‘manner of means.’ They had gone forth to defend proud and sovereign States, they came back to find them conquered provinces, and soon to swarm with the vilest vermin, in the shape of camp-followers, ‘carpet-baggers,’ ‘scalawags’ et id omne genus, that ever infested and infuriated any people outside of regions of the infernal. Literally ‘chaos had come again,’ and there was no earthly power to bring ‘order out of this chaos’ but the old ex-Confederate soldier. In Virginia we found in the place of the old mother, whose very name was a synonym of her character, and both so dear to her children, ‘District No. 1,’ attempted to be overawed by General Ord, then terrified by General Terry, then stoned to death by General Stoneman. No wonder that one of our local poets should have sung in two languages, intermingling the dead and living so plaintively, words something like these:

Terry leaves us, sumas weary
Jam nos taedet te videre
Si vis nos, with joy implere
We can spare thee magne Terry
Freely very. * * *
Terry in haec terra tarry
Diem narry.

Amid such scenes we might well exclaim with the old Greek,

Olympus was there, the Aegean was there, the land where Homer sang and where Pericles spoke was there.

But with such aspect on the shore
'Twas Greece, but living Greece no more.

Yes, my friends, we came to conquered provinces, and despite hindrances of almost every kind which confronted us, we have, by the help and guidance of our Great Father, with the help and amidst the smiles and the benedictions of the sweetest, the noblest, the purest and best women on earth, and with the moral and intellectual forces which were formed in us before, and which were only strengthened and invigorated by war and its calamities, we have [199] remoulded these provinces into States, after the ‘form and fashion’ of our fathers, and now the ‘camp-follower,’ the ‘carpet-bagger,’ the ‘scalawag,’ and all such are no more, and instead of these ‘off-scouring of creation,’ we present to the world the States of the Confederacy as forming the solid phalanx of the ‘Solid South,’ and as the hope and mainstay of constitutional liberty in this great republic. And thus, my comrades,

As the mountains look on Virginia,
And Virginia looks on the sea,
Whilst musing here an hour alone,
I dream that we may yet be free;
For standing near a Stuart's grave
I will not deem myself a slave.

Iv. The Cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia.

Spur on! Spur on! We love the bounding
     Of barbs that bear us to the fray.
‘The Charge’ our bugles now are sounding,
     And our bold Stuart leads the way.

Confederate war Glee.

Response by Judge D. M. Bernard, of Petersburg.

Judge D. M. Bernard's response.

It affords me no little pleasure to speak the merited praises of the cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia. My only regret is that I am not gifted with that silvery eloquence which alone can paint in its true colors the brilliant part which it took in those splendid achievements which have made immortal the army to which it belonged.

I look with loftiest pride upon the first three and a half years of the war. I served with that branch of the army which has written its name high and imperishably high on the temple of fame, the infantry of our army, but I can assure you it is with no less pride that I contemplate the last six months of that war, in which I shared the hardships and the glories of that gallant band of heroes, the cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia.

I know it is thought by some that the hardships of the cavalry were comparatively slight. Indeed this idea was at one time so [200] common that it found expression in the old song, ‘If you want to have a good time join the cavalry.’ But I know from experience that this idea is entirely without foundation in fact. I express my true sentiments, when I tell you that the hardships of the cavalry were as great, yes, at times, even greater than those of the other arms of the service. The cavalrymen on those long forced marches which they so frequently took as often longed for a walk as did the marching foot soldier long for a ride. In addition to his own physical fatigue he suffered the mental pain of knowing that his noble steed on which he so much relied was suffering from the pangs of hunger and thirst and fatigue. And when the cavalryman halts for a few hours of needed rest, he cannot, like his brother of the infantry, at once throw his blanket around, fall upon the ground and embrace that sweet and restful sleep, whose wooings have well nigh overcome him, but he must first, and frequently at great trouble, lookout for the comfort of his horse.

The cavalryman but seldom enjoyed the comparative ease and comfort of winter quarters. Summer and spring, winter and autumn were all the same to him. He must be upon that all important outpost, watching or fighting the enemy, whether the summer's sun be shining or the winter's blast be blowing.

When you see that solitary cavalryman riding from the front to the rear, he is not always in search of butter-milk, nor is he turning his back upon the foe, because he fears to face him or to fight: him, but oftener than otherwise he is bearing some message to the rear which is to save the army from surprise or the loved cause from disaster.

One of the principal duties of the cavalry is to watch and inform and, if needs be, to hold in check the advancing enemy until preparations are made to receive him. That the cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia was fully up to its duty in this respect is evidenced by the fact that there is not one single instance during the whole war where any portion of the army to which it belonged was surprised because of the failure of its cavalry to perform its duty either as watchers or as fighters.

It is true that the cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia did not so often as did its infantry meet the enemy in the shock of great battles. Its duties were of a different kind, but of such a kind and so gallantly and nobly done that the performance of them contributed much to ensuring victory to our army in some of those great [201] shocks. I believe that history will bear me out in the assertion that but for that bold and dashing raid of Stuart and his troopers around the army of McClellan that army would not have been so easily crowded under the gunboats by the invincible cohorts of Jackson and of Hill.

But the record of the cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia is not bare of great battles. It has its Kelly's Ford, its Hanover Junction, its Brandy Station, its Trevillian's, its Yellow Tavern and its High Bridge. And it has the pride of knowing that in each of these great conflicts the laurels of victory encircled its brow.

It numbered among its officers, some, not only of the most daring and gallant men, but of the most renowned soldiers of the war. It had its Lees, its Wickham, its Hampton, its Ashby, its Mosby, its gallant Dearing, and its great Stuart. Such leaders were never surpassed, and there is no instance on record when the brave troopers under these gallant officers failed to spur on their steeds to the fray in answer to the bugle sound of ‘charge.’

V. The staff of the Army.

Their courage, intelligence and devotion to duty were conspicuous on every field.

Response by Dr. J. Herbert Claiborne, of Petersburg.

Vi. The women of the South.

O woman, in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light, quivering aspen made—
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!

Response by Hon. J. Taylor Ellyson, of Richmond.

Vii. Our sister cities, Richmond and Petersburg.

Welded together by fire of battle in the heroic Past, they are no less bound together by common aspirations and common interest in days of Peace.

Response by Hon. Charles F. Collier, of Petersburg.


VIII. the memory of our dead.

‘They never fail who die in a great cause.’

Response by Hon. Henry W. Flournoy, of Richmond.

Voluntary toasts.

The following voluntary toast was made by Colonel W. H. Palmer, who spoke as follows:

The friends of General A. P. Hill have watched with the greatest satisfaction the interest that Petersburg has taken in his career. You have named your Confederate camp after him, and it is so appropriate. Whatever may come to you in the future, nothing more glorious can come than the defence of your city from June, 1864, to April, 1865; and at every step his deeds form a part of your history.

In the records of every seige that I have read of, the defence had some element of hope to inspire them. At Genoa the French had hope of relief, and back of them a prosperous country to reward them for their pains and labors; at Saragossa the defenders had hope that relief would come in the end; but the defenders of your city, for nine long months while daily in contact with the enemy, knew that they were growing weaker, that the armies of the Confederacy in the field were melting away, that their government had neither reinforcements to send them or reward for them.

The only inspiration that held them to their terrible work was the hope of gaining the approval of the commander--in chief, whose personality dominates them, who they knew shared their labors and trials to the utmost.

On the night of the 17th of June General Hill received orders to move to Petersburg. It was a long and trying march from New Market Heights. His third corps was hurried across the bridge at Drury's Bluff, and part of it was in the line near the Jerusalem plank-road on the evening of the 18th of June. As we rode that day he said that with the force at General Lee's disposal the line fronting Richmond and Petersburg could not be held, and yet our great commander held them for nine long months. When the lines were broken General Hill's prediction was verified, he paid the forfeit with his life.

Whenever the Army of Northern Virginia was in fearful peril it was General Hill's fate to hold the post of danger. At Sharpsburg, [203] where all seemed lost, he marched the eighteen miles, crossing the Potomac from Harper's Ferry, which had surrendered to him, and struck Burnside's corpse of fifteen thousand men and rolled it up like a scroll. When the army retired across the Potomac his division formed the rear guard, and when the Federal army attempted to follow at Boetner's Ford, he filled the Potomac with their dead.

After Gettysburg, having gained the only success there, in the destruction of Reynolds' corps, killing the corps commander opposed to him. His third corps formed again the rear guard of the Army of Northern Virginia, which retired across the Potomac a second time in safety behind his veteran troops. At Petersburg the post of danger and ceaseless vigilance was the right. Other troops might rest, Hill's corps was ever on the move, repelling advances on the right. At last the end came, the lines gave way, his blood mingled with your soil sacred indeed, to all men who are capable of administering unselfish devotion, and nothing in his career was more becoming or unselfish than his death. His courier had ridden ahead of him, ordering as he rode two soldiers of the enemy to surrender. General Hill saw that they intended to fire on him. It was man to man, and no longer lieutenant general and his courier, Tucker, told me a few minutes after that he had no idea that General Hill was by his side.

Just as they fired he heard the rush of the general's horse at his side. He would not see his courier in peril without sharing it with him, and his courier's life was saved at the expense of his own. The Crater. When the column of smoke arose from the Crater General Hill leaped from his cot and said: ‘I am going to Mahone's division; I will take his troops—all that can be spared—to the point of the explosion.’ He directed that I should stay at headquarters for any reports from the right. Thirty minutes after General Lee rode up from the other side of the Appomattox unattended by officer or courier. I told him that General Hill had gone to General Mahone's division, with the express purpose of taking all of the troops that could be spared from the lines to the point of the explosion. We had a near way from our headquarters to the left of Halifax street, down Lieutenant Run to General Mahone's headquarters. I conducted General Lee by this near way, and before getting to General Mahone's headquarters we found his troops in motion. General Lee passed through the line and out in the open, and as he was unattended and in some danger from the artillery fire, I continued with him to the rear of the river salient. He took out [204] his glasses and took a long look at the captured line. He asked me how many of the enemy's flags I counted in the line. I counted eleven. Soon after he rode back and joined Mahone's troops as filed down Lieutenant Run. The Crater was on General Beauregard's line. General Hill's troops took it and held it. The movement was made without orders from the commander-in-chief, and his own line on the right was imperiled. He took all the risk to go to the point of danger.

One word as to the behavior of the citizens of Petersburg during these months. It was heroic. The men in citizen's clothing did veteran's duty in the trenches, and the women walked about calmly with the enemy's shells whistling above them. Time and again in riding your streets I was filled with amazement at the composure of your citizens under the trying position in which they were placed.

It is a compensation to have witnessed these scenes. It is a compensation to leave a history, and on this broad continent no spot has witnessed more of human constancy, devotion and sacrifice than this spot on which we unveil a likeness of a hero indeed, a worthy companion of his commander, a worthy leader of men, whom to have followed as most of you did, in however humble a position entitles you to distinction.

Other toasts were made by Commander W. Gordon McCabe, Major Robert Stiles, Mr. Joseph Bryan, of the Richmond Times; Colonel William P. Smith, Captain John Tyler, Commander A. W. Archer, William R. McKenney and others.

Commander McCabe read the following letter:

Petersburg, Va., November 29, 1892.
dear Sir—It was very kind of you to have called in person to extend the invitation to the unveiling ceremonies which are to be had at your Confederate camp this evening. I appreciate sincerely the consideration in generous measure with my unalloyed esteem for the memory of General A. P. Hill. He was my personal friend, and a more brilliant useful soldier and chivalrous gentleman never adorned the Confederate army. My heart is in sympathy with the tribute you pay to his memory and regret that it is not so that I can join you in the ceremonies of the evening.

Yours truly,


After the reading of the above letter which was received with applause Mr. Joseph Bryan proposed a toast to the health of Commander Gordon McCabe and then called on him for a speech. After the toast had been drunk Commander McCabe made a most felicitious talk.

It was half past 12 in the morning when the festivities of the banquet hall were brought to a close. The Richmond guests all expressed themselves as delighted with their visit to the ‘Cockade City,’ and stated that they had never been better treated. They were escorted to the depot by A. P. Hill Camp and left on their return home at 1.15 A. M.

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