March 8, 1865
Yesterday, as I
hinted in my last, we had a toot, of much duration. At ten A.M. the General got
a telegraph (one of those charming City Point surprises) saying that a train
was just then starting, holding a dozen of women-kind and a certain force of
the male sex; that they would arrive in an hour or so, and that we would please
rather to entertain them pretty well! We telegraphed to the 5th Corps to turn
out some troops, and to General Wright, to say we were coming that way, and
ordered out ambulances to go to the station, and turned out officers to go over
also. Your hub, not without growls of a private sort, girded hisself with a
sash and ordered the charger saddled. In due time they kim: Colonels Badeau and
Babcock to guide them. As sort of chief of the honorable committee of
reception, I took off my cap and was solemnly introduced to twelve distinct
ladies, whose names I instantly forgot (ditto those of distinguished gentlemen
accompanying), all except Mrs. General Grant, who was, of course, too well
known to slip from memory. However, at the end of the day, I began to have a
flickering and vague idea who some of them were. . . . Then Miss Stanton — of
course I was brilliant about her. After I had more or less helped her over
puddles and into ambulances for an hour or two, it occurred to me that the name
of the Secretary of War was also Stanton. Then, after a period of rest, my mind
roused itself to the brilliant hypothesis that this young lady might be the
daughter of the Stanton who was Secretary of War. Once on this track, it did
not take me over thirty minutes to satisfy myself that I actually had been
rendering civilities to the offspring of him who holds the leash of the dogs of
war! She is not a roarer, like her paternal, but very subdued and modest, and
reminded me of the ci-devant Newport belle, Miss L–– C––. . . . Likewise, may we here mention Bradlee pรจre, a dried-up lawyer of New Jersey, after
the fashion of the countenance of Professor Rogers. He was valiant and stuffed
his trousers in his boots and clomb an exceeding tall horse, which so pleased
another old party, Judge Woodruff, that he did likewise, and subsequently
confessed to me that his last equestrian excursion was in 1834; from which I
infer, that, at this present writing, Judge Woodruff's legs are more or less
totally useless to him as instruments of progression. He had a complement, his
daughter, to whom I did not say much, as she had somebody, I forget who it was.
Then we must mention, in a front place, the Lady Patroness, Mrs. H––, and the
Noble Patron, Mr. H––. These two seemed to take us all under their protection,
and, so to speak, to run the machine. Mrs. was plump, fair, and getting towards
forty. Mr. was of suitable age, stout, looked as if fond of good dinners, and
apparently very tender on Mrs., for he continually smiled sweetly at her. Also
he is a large legal gun and part proprietor of the Philadelphia Enquirer. Then
there was a pale, no-account couple, Dr. and Mrs. G––. The Doctor's sister was
Mrs. Smith, to whom Rosie attached himself with devotion that threatened the
tranquillity of the absent S. All these, and more, were carted over to the
Headquarters, where the General bowed them into his tent and cried out very
actively: “Now Lyman, where are all my young men? I want all of them.” So I
hunted all that were not already on hand, and they were introduced and were
expected to make themselves as agreeable as possible. Without delay we were
again en voyage (I, being sharp, got on a horse, which tended much to my
physical comfort, prevented my conversation from being prematurely played out)
and took the party to see the glories of the engineer camp and the chapel
thereof; after which, to the model hospitals of the 6th Corps, of which Dr.
Holman is the Medical Director, who prides himself on doing everything without
aid from the Sanitary, which he doubtless can do, when in winter quarters. It
was like packing and unpacking so many boxes, to “aussteigen” and
“einsteigen” all the females. We descended them, for the third
time, at Fort Fisher, whence we showed them the Reb line and the big guns, and
the signal tower of trestle work, 140 feet high. The next pilgrimage was a long
one, as far as the 5th Corps Headquarters, on the left of the line. General
Warren issued forth and welcomed the ladies to oranges, apples, grapes,
crackers, cheese, ale, and cider, into the which the visitors walked with a
vigor most commendable. By the time the males had made a considerable vacuum in
the barrel of ale, Griffin's division was ready for review, and thither we all
went and found the gallant Humphreys, whom I carefully introduced to the
prettiest young lady there, and expect to be remembered in his will for that
same favor! A review of Crawford's division followed, very beautiful, with the
setting sun on the bayonets; and so home to an evening lunch, so to speak,
whereat I opened my “pickles,” to the great delectation of both sexes. All this
was dreamland novelty concentrated to the visitors, who departed with vehement
thanks to us, well expressed by Mrs. Grant: “General Meade, I would far rather
command an army, as you do, than live at City Point and have the position of Mr.
Grant!” They were to have a dance that night on their boat at City
Point, and politely and earnestly asked me to go down with them; but the point
was not noticed by your loving hub.
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 314-6
