March 18, 1865
This morning I sent
you a telegraph, which may be rather late, I fear, though I sent it at the
earliest chance. It was to ask you to pay a day's visit here, and see the army,
as a curiosity. Mrs. Meade is coming with a party in a special boat from
Washington. . . .
You probably are
aware that yesterday was the nativity of the Holy Patrick, in whose honor the
Irish Brigade, of the 2d Corps, got up a grand race, with a printed programme
and every luxury. The weather, which had been most evil the night before,
unexpectedly cleared up and the day was fine, exceedingly. We found the course
laid out near the Cummings house, in rear of what you remember as the noted
Peeble house. There was a judge's stand, flaunting with trefoil flags, and a
band beside the same, which had been accommodated with a couple of waggons, in
lieu of orchestra. Then there were plenty of guards (there need be no lack of
such) and a tent wherein were displayed plates of sandwiches. Alas! this was
the weak point, the bitter drop in the Irish festa. The brigade, with an Irish
generosity, had ordered a fine collation, but the steamer, bad luck to her, had
gone and run herself aground somewhere, and poor Paddy was left to eat his
feast the day after the fair. Nevertheless, we didn't allow such things to
stand in the way, and the races proceeded under the august auspices of General
Humphreys, who didn't look exactly like a turfman, and had a mild look of
amusement, as he read out: “Captain Brady's grey mare.” — Captain Brady bows. “Captain—, Hey? What is
that name? I can't read the writing.” “Murphy,” suggests General Miles. “Oh,
dear me, of course, yes; Captain Murphy's bay gelding.” “No! red,” suggests
Miles. “Ah, yes, to be sure — red.” “Here,” says the long-expectant Murphy.
Then a bugler blows at a great rate and the horses are brought to the line; the
bugler blows at a great rate some more, and away they go. There were a good
many different races, some of which were rather tiresome, by reason of the long
waiting and the fact that none of the horses were really racers, but only swift
officers' steeds, which were not enough trained to go round regularly, but
often would balk at the hurdles and refuse to go round at all. Wherefrom we had
tragic consequences: for one, scared by the crowd and by the brush hurdle,
bolted violently and knocked down a soldier; and Colonel von Schack, in another
race, had his horse, which had overleaped, fall on him heavily. . . . Everything was extremely quiet and
orderly, and no tipsy people about. . . .
[Mrs. Meade, with a
large party, including Mrs. Lyman, arrived at City Point on the evening of
March 22. The next two days were spent in visiting the front, and in excursions
on the river. On the morning of the 25th, it was found that the Confederates
had made an unexpected attack. The visitors were shipped back to Washington,
and their hosts made for the front.]
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 321-2
