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Memoirs continues... page twelve
We began our residence in Richmond by living at the Hotel Jefferson. This was a beautiful new hotel designed by Stanford White, with a famous lobby copied after an old Roman bath. We stayed there only a short time however, as we had our dog Paddy with us and no dogs were allowed. So we moved across the street to a boarding house run by a Mrs. Christian where we had a nice comfortable room and fine Southern cuisine. We met several interesting people at this house but the most interesting one was Mr. Christian, the husband of the boarding house mistress. He was an elderly man at this time, with a perfectly bald head but he wore a long grey beard, and he used to say, "If my beard would only grow in instead of out, I might have my hair on my head." He was a most affable individual with a keen sense of humor and he and I soon became fast friends.
I was intensely interested in the Civil War and made it my business in my spare time to visit the battle grounds in and around Richmond, and to resurrect almost forgotten incidents of this great war between the states. (I) visited the spot of Libby Prison, (and) saw the spot where this famous prison stood, saw the house on top of the hill just back of the prison where the tunnel led from the prison through which the prisoners escaped, and learned the story of the big hearted woman who helped them escape, a woman who was respected by the Southerners and never suspected of being a Northern sympathizer.
Robert O. Christian was the full name of my friend. We used to sit on the front porch in the evening and chat about things in general, and one night I told him of my interest in the South's part in the war and I called it the Uncivil War. Well, I was greatly surprised when Mr. Christian jumped up and said, "If every Northerner had been like you, there never would have been an uncivil war." It pleased him because I took a sympathetic attitude with the South in this conflict and expressed the view that as states the South had a perfect right to secede, that it would have been far better from a financial point of view if the government had bought off the slaves and then freed them and thus have saved both the lives, which were needlessly sacrificed, and also have saved the South from ruin, from which they were still feeling the effect. Well, Mr. Christian then for the first time told me his story, which was as follows.
R.O. Christian ~ His Story
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"Before the Civil War I owned a large plantation on the James River below Richmond near Williamsburg. I raised not only cotton but also had one section of 180 acres of rich bottom lands planted in corn. Besides, I was a great fancier of horses and bred and raised some of the finest blooded stock in the Southland. I inherited this property from my father who was one of the old school cultured gentlemen of what the South was then justly proud. Every year I used to travel west and down the Mississippi River and sell our cotton. Many times I witnessed exciting scenes on the old steam paddle river boats and was a passenger on one of these boats when a celebrated race between these boats took place and saw them chop up everything aboard to use as fuel to win this race. And a fortune was bet on the result by the planters and gamblers on board. Speaking of gambling, I witnessed some big poker games when plantations were won and lost, and saw many crooked gamblers shot at and thrown overboard."
"At the time the war broke out, I owned about $100,000 in government bonds, had about 100 slaves, and owned my plantation free of any debt. I considered myself a wealthy man as fortunes were recorded(?) in those days. When the war was declared I joined the Southern forces, fought through the entire conflict, (and) laid down my arms at Appomattox Court House when General Lee, God bless his sacred memory, surrendered to Grant. I walked from there back to Richmond, a long hard tramp(?), without shoes on my feet, coat on my back, nor hat on my head. I was presumed a tramp, but I was still an unconquered Southern soldier. I had lost everything I owned, all was thrown in the pot and lost, my plantation, my money, my slaves, but I still had my pride left."
"When I arrived in Richmond I found the city in ruins, all my friends dead and gone, and walking along the street the 'niggers kicked me off the sidewalk' and I was too weak and depressed to care. And along with all my other worldly goods went my pride and I had to beg for food. No one can understand the hopeless despair I was plunged in unless they too have gone through such a distressing experience. There was no way of earning enough money to keep body and soul together in Richmond during those awful days, and so I left and went into Maryland where I finally secured a position as schoolteacher, where I taught for several years and thus saved myself from going stark mad. Later on I met and married for the second time, my present good wife who runs this boarding house and also runs me. My first wife died during the war, another victim of this uncivil war."
Mr. Christian told me many tales of the reconstruction days and stories of the war, one of these still lingers in my memory.
There was a Southern beauty living between Richmond and Fredricksburg in a fine old mansion. There were in this family, besides the father and mother, three grown sons, young men in their teens and early twenties and also two daughters much younger. When the war came on the father and three boys enlisted with the Southern forces, leaving the mother and two girls and the slaves behind. Their place soon became a dangerous place to inhabit as it was right in the path of the advance of the Federal army. They were warned to make their escape, and one night the mother and two girls, with the assistance of an old faithful colored slave, packed up all the family silver and jewels in an old iron bound oak chest and buried it in the garden. The old colored man carefully marked the spot on a chart he made, showing the spot located between two big old trees and the corner of the house. They then all left and took up their abode in Richmond. Well, the war swallowed up their place, the house was burned and destroyed, the father and three sons lost their lives, the mother died, the two daughters became nurses in the military hospital in Richmond. One of these girls nursed a young Northern officer back to life, fell in love with him, and finally when the war ended met and married him in Washington D.C. They then moved to New York, where the youngest girl also met and married a Northerner.
Several years later on, this youngest daughter and her husband came to Richmond and looked up Mr. Christian and asked him if there was any chance of recovering the family silver. They had the diagram the old colored butler had made showing the spot where he had buried the chest and that's all they had to go by, but to make a rather long story short, they all visited the place formerly owned by the girl's family and found it occupied by a (another) family. The old mansion was of course destroyed, but there were several old trees still standing to mark the site where it had stood. They visited this place several times before they could find an opportunity to begin the search, but one day they found the present occupants of the place all away from home, and after considerable difficulty the located the chest and took it away with them, and so recovered the old family silver and jewels. This all sounds like a romance but Mr. Christian assured me it all really happened.
Speaking of romance reminds me of an episode in Lucia's and my life that was to us not only a sad story but an actual happenstance which taught both of us a moral lesson. Here it is– (Here insert the biography of Bay.)
[Special Note: As of yet, I do not have the above stated "biography of Bay" that John D. referred to in his memoirs, and I have no knowledge that it was ever written – J.R.]
End of Part 3
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