San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-01-14
Confederate General Who Never
Surrendered Is a Farmer Now
Brig. Gen. John McCaus-
land, Who Burned Cham
hersburg, Pa, and Saved
Lynchburg, Va, Is Pros
porous Country Gentle
man.
By GARNETT LAIDLAw EsKEw

ny UAftNEII l41lDIAhW EShEN.
Neither the fall of Richmond nor the
later capitulation OF the cities farther
south marked the downfall of the last
Confederate stronghold. INDEED, it
might not be an exaggeration to say
that the last Confederate stronghold
never has surrendered. And the strange
part of it is that this impregnable fort
ress is not located in which was ever
the confines of the southern Confeder-
acy but is, on the other hand, in the
present state of West Virginia, in the
county of Mason, about ten miles above
the confluence of the Kanawha and
Ohio Rivers, and 80 miles west of
Charleston. 1t is to be found in the
person of a little old man, who, when
one sees him for the first time, appears
to be extremely feeble, but who pos
seses an eye that can still flash fire,
even as it did when he sighted along
the company front of his gray bat
tziions, heading into battle sixty-odd
years ago. He is now in his seth year
but is waging a successful battle to
maintain his hold upon life and health.
The last Confederate stronghold is,
in short, in the person of John McCaus-
land, late brigadier general, Confeder-
ate States Army, and so far as is
known, the only surviving general Off
Ger of the Incompatible forces of Lee.
He leads, as he has led for years, the
life almost of recluse, on the broad
reaches of his 3000-acre farm, with his
one daughter (his sons having married
and gone to homes of their OWN. His
life is that of country gentleman ap-
proximating almost that of a stout
squire from Merry England of the feud-
II kha+ g laal
to complete the picture of a feudal
Saxon overload, are a hundred or so
servants running about the place. But
these servants have gone the way of all
slaves, and there are only the cook and
dozen hired farm hands.
Attends One Reunion.
The generals time is given over TO
riding about his farm, taking an active
interest in its conduct, and to reading
He rarely goes to the cities, however,
and has attended only one reunion.
That was some thirty years ago in
Richmond when he took one of his
sons along and told some friends on the
steps of the Westmoreland Club that
he had come back to show his boy the
kind of people he was accustomed to
associate with. For he does consider
himself as belonging to West Virginia,
although he has lived there since before
the war.
The last time I saw Gen. John Nc
Causland was on the occasion of the
unyeiling, in Charleston, of a monu-
ment to the Kanawha Riflemen, Con-
federate company of Charleston boys
whom McCausland had mustered into
the service in 81. He made a short
address at the unwilling, with surpris-
ing fire and vigor.
A few days previous to that 1 had
paid him a visit at his almost medieval
home in Mason county, and was sur
A-->-tsed to discover the extent of this
mild hammered little soldiers participa-
ton in the War of the States. For al
though had heard all my life of Cen
eral McCausland, his reputation for
aloofness from his neighbors had made
him seem almost a myth to me. One
summer Sunday morning, however, l
descended from the train, crossed the
Kanawha in a rowbOat, and found the
general himself waiting for me on the
other bank. He greeted me pleasantly,
though a little distantly-a white-mus-
tached grizzled old gentleman, whose
ewes peered out from under beetling
brows and seemed to take in everything
he saw. Entering the car, We were
driven several miles across country,
through acres of rich ''lOw grounds
fields of waving corn and wheat, as fer
tile as any land in the world. The gen.
eral halted his car as we were about to
turn in at the big gate and pointed to
the right. He remarked:
Three Hundred Acres OF Wheat.
"It's not often you see anything like
that in this section of the world-a sim
gle field of 300 acres" From the side
of the road a veritable sea of bearded
wheat swept off to infinity. Descend
ing from the car stood at the edge of
the field, my eyes just barely high
enough to look out over the tossing
tassels in the morning sun, and / could
understand the pride in the generals
tone.
A mile back from the river a huge,
raunt, solid, square stone house, topped
by A small cupola, reared its head upon
a rise of ground. This was the generals
home, a stronghold in literal truth, in
asmuch as it is built Of solid chunks
of sandstone uuarried from the hills on
tbe generals own farm. The services
of 20 men were required for a period Of
several weeks, in its construction. The
house, l found upon entering, though
richly furnished, was almost Spartan
in its simplicity, and gave one the
impression of stepping into the pres
~Sfye of an invisible host of fighters.
For there on the wall of library are
! pistols and brides and portraits of
grew soldiers; a saddle is flung in the
corner; framed document, bearing the
4 men signature of the Confederate preSi-
dent and secretary of war looks down
above an old time secretary; it is
the generals commission as brigadier
general. A gold mounted sabre, with
rs belt wrapped around it, lies upon
1 ths table, as though the general had
\ lust that moment entered and unbuckled