Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1894-12-23
DARK DAYS OF 1863.
A STORY OF THE LIBBY PRISON AND
TWO LITTLE GIRLS m GRAY.
Waits to the Libby, = Rose. Kindness TO
Pale Prisoner, and the Romance
That Resulted.
written for the DIspatch.)

| Of the war, Il had been preceded, as little
Betty Landon thought. by three. years
Of varied playtime. In which there vas
none of the tameness of childhood's usual
pleasures. Even the sorrows she witnessed
were not, indeed, as griefs familiar to
children Of other days.
The Landops' home was an old-fashioned
country mansion near the Chickahominy
river. Five dormer windows blinked across
| it's low roof and looked down the long
cedar lane to big gate opening on the
main road.
| The first queer happening came to John
I,andon's little daughter one dark and
| drizEly night in the summer OF 1862, when.
by order Of General Lee. they were moved
| from this dear old homestead some miles
| away, and "inside Of the Confederate
| lines"
| The Confederates, after several days
| hard fighting, had been reinforced by
| Jackson-who mystifed not only the
| enemy but his own men by the CELEBRITY
| of his movements-and on the command
| ing site occupied by the Landon house
| 1t had been decided TO give battle.
| Half awake, Betty watched the SER
wants and soldiers loading army wagons
with the furniture She was in fever
! Of excitement, seeing the gayly dressed
officers, and coming from the fairy
| dreams of childs trundle-bed TO the
| glaring lights and pantomimic mo, cments
| of armed men anticipating battle. The
| sound OF booming cannon, and the quick,
| sharp repetition of mimic guns were al
| ready to her childish ears. and the name
| of Yankee" was a hugbear that struck
| terror TO the stoutest child-heart among
| them. But here was all the paraphernalia
| of war, with thousands Of bronzed, grey
| coated soldiers, whose hot gun-barreis
| from one days fight were scarce cooled
before another battle. There were lines
| of men throwing up entertainments, ana
torchlights shining welrdly in grim, de-
| termned faces, as II they dug one long
| grave for the dead, which already strewed
| the battle-felds from Cold Harbor to
| Mechanicsville. Lights cleaned on the
| hill where the children had played the
| day before, and nearer camp-fires showed
| the tented yard and background or
| stacked and shining guns.
II recollect," John Landon's daughter
said to her own small nieces score OF
years later, that when Uncle Bob went
| to the low, log house for the geese, i
| was not far away, and that he led the
| van with their red, webbed feet tied to-
| gether behind him on the old black mule
| as he trotted away" and IL was won
| der, she laughed, that those geese were
| not beheaded for II Rome was once saved
| by their cackling, that wing of the Con-
| federate army was surely in danger from
| the same noise"
1--WE were tumbled at last, though"
| she continued, ''in the old family coach
| and followed Uncle Bob down the long
| cedar lane"
AT the big gate mother got out. and
| NANNY, who held the baby, had to COM
| fort me also. for 1 vigorously kicked and
cried to follow her.
You mar cum back. chile" said man.
my she furgit suthing'."
II II was hope mother went back for. II
was futile search. / learned long after
ward that she had gone to the trenches
| TO bid father good-by. Poor father! who
had been in all the Peninsula fights until
the chances OF war brought him, with
| cruel irony to his own farm. while his
family fed he knew not where for safety.
Refuge was found, and later on we got
through to Richmond. and were domiciled
in half OF uncle's house. on Church Hill.
No better spot could have been found to
familiarize n child with war times" We
seemed Just in the centre of a military
position. Below was the river, with the
coming and going Of troops Far down
its sinuous winding was heard the con-
tinued blasting at Dutch Gap. On Church
Hi was Chimborazo-the largest hospi-
tai in the COnfederacy-and Libby Hill.
Hers we stood that memorable "Pawnee
Sunday" fearing less the possible sweep
OF shot and shell than OF being sent away
from the excited crowd. In an atmos-
phere of danger its constant association
benumbed our fears.
l..
Below the bluff further down town.
were the prisons-Mayo's factory, Castle
Thunder, and THE Libby" Around these
all our childish curiosity centered. We
saw their roofs from our upper windows,
and many a "Jack-the ant-Killer' spec
ulation had we as to their inmates.
There was a steep hill back Of Uncle
Shelton's leading to a street level with
the prisons a few squares away. In its
clayey hillside, hidden by rank growth
of young paradise trees. brother Tom
cut steps, which our active limbs made
nothing OF scaling.
Your Aunt Bella and l." our historian
would relate. were inseparable. AS you
know, she was yeai older than l, and
suppose nominally the leader. But was
n worthy lieutenant. holder in design
fearless, adventurous children; an out
growth OF the daring days in which We
lived.
MANY n time we skipped down to the
lower streets-by the dirt steps In the
break-neck bank-and from thence to
Cary street TO peer In the iron-barred
windows OF Libby Prison.
zone bright evening in the late Septep-
Der, two little girls loitered on their way
tha az
shadows as they came up the brick
steps on the farther side OF the Van Lew
Mansion. They were my cousin and l.
"'Seev said Bella, there Is Mr.. Barnes
coming down to relieve guard at the
prison. o, IL we might go! Just for one
peep
run and ask him. cried. Maybe
they are getting supper"
Bella caught at the idea and flew to
meet Barney-as we called him-who
with his long, frayed gray coat dangling
about his knees and his gun shouldered,
was hurrying on.
Barney was an old friend and near
neighbor. After a little persuasion he
agreed, and we scampered along by his
side. delighted with the idea OF inspecting
the prisons under his warlike escort.
The Libby was but few squares on
Barney relieved guard and we marched
solemnly back and forth with him for
several turns.
Now children" said he presently you
can look in that window and then you
run home. It's getting late"
We drew near the corner fearlessly,
and as Barney turned. looked in at the
window. Right near us-just risen from
a cot close by-was a prisoner; young
man, wasted with sickness. gaunt, and
hollow-eyed. To US. indeed. he seemed
TO be ell eyes, as the blackness OF their
depths filed in his narrow face.
The autumn evenings carry summers
heat with them late In Richmond, and
the dingy glass was raised behind the
iron bars. So near were We, and so
startled the prisoner looked at our sud
den appearance. that Bella and I In
stinctively clutched each others hands.
The next moment / had glanced at Bar
ney's back and impulsively threw In
bunch of red and yellow chrysanthemums.
Then We flew like birds past the corner
and struck our near and precipitous route
home.
Here began our little romance. Surely
no younger heroiHes ever ventured upon
one more hazardous. But something
tugged at our hearts. for the next eve
ming we walked past the prison again.
Demure little figures you may imagine
we were. in our gray cotton dresses
and home-braided straw hats; and yet
the counterpart OF dozens Of children
In the tenement houses OF Franklin or