A unique feature was the agencies for hiring out negro hands and servants, it forming a large part of the business of the real estate men. Richmond was then said to have one hundred tobacco factories in active operation.

My memory reverts to an interesting event in the year 1860, when Edward, the Prince of Wales, of the Royal family of Great Britain, visited Richmond, coming here from Washington with his retinue who were entertained at the old Exchange and Ballard House—then in its prime. The Prince stayed over Sunday and attended church at Saint Paul’s. Doctor Minnegerode was then the rector of the parish, and he preached a good practical sermon for the distinguished guests. I remember well seeing the
 
Prince, who was then a beardless youth, of a good figure and looks, he returned to the Capital City the next day, pleased with his trip; it was an epoch in the history of Virginia, socially speaking. Another incident was the lecture delivered here by Mr. Thackeray, the great novelist, at the Athenaeum, which building was then just in the rear of the Broad Street Methodist Church, the subject of the lecture was the “Georges,” and it was a chaste and interesting address, full of anecdotes, with a vein of sarcasm interspersed throughout.

Another lecture about this time was that of the Hon. Edward Everett, delivered at the old African Church; the subject was General George Washington. He was lecturing under the auspices of the Mount Vernon Association for the purchase of that place from its owners. The Mount Vernon papers which were then published by Mr. Bowner in the New York Ledger, were edited by him, and this address by him here was a literary treat, as was everything emanating from his cultivated mind; the church was filled with a highly appreciative audience, and all went home well pleased.

The local politics were to some extent interesting, as almost every man discussed them in public. The African Church was used on Sundays as a negro meeting house for worship, and during the week for political gatherings by the white people, it being the largest in town. The colored people were of course paid for the use of their church building. When a person announced his candidacy for any office in the gift of the people, he was requested to define his position and views on the questions of the day. For instance when the subject of a free bridge between Richmond and Manchester over the James River was debated
 
the people were called upon to express their ideas pro and con in the old African Church.

There was a prominent local politician by the name of George Peake, who whenever a speaker uttered a sentiment of which he approved, would emphasize it by loudly exclaiming, “Why, certainly,” and everybody knew where the voice came from, as he was notorious. On one occasion I was present at a meeting when a Mr. Martin Meredith Lipscomb was a candidate for the office of city sergeant, he was an illiterate man, but had the conceit and obstinacy of a government mule, and was arguing the point that when a man was born on the lower round of the social ladder he should not be debarred from rising to the upper ones, and to illustrate his point said he, now suppose I had been born in a stable, just then some wag in the crowd interrupted him by yelling out, then, sir, you would have been a mule; this rudeness silenced the speaker for a moment, but without taking any notice of it, he resumed his argument. This Mr. Lipscomb was a notorious office-seeker and never failed to announce himself as a candidate for almost every position from the mayoralty down to a constable, for nothing seem to daunt “old Martin Meredith,” as he was called, in his attempts to hold some office, although failure was his only reward.

In the celebrated campaign, just before the great war, for Governor between Henry A. Wise, the nominee of the Democracy, and the Hon. Stanhope Flournoy, the champion of the Whig party, the “Know-nothings” excitement was in its incipiency and they supported the Whigs in this contest. Hon. Henry Winter Davis, of Maryland, one of the best political orators of his day, spoke in advocacy of “Know-nothingism,” and his remarks were good and convincing from his standpoint, but the strong logic, and Herculean
 
thrusts of Mr. Wise utterly destroyed the fallacies of the opposition, and the Know-nothing party died, then and there. Governor Wise was one of the most gifted and forcible, as well as interesting, speakers in the State. At this time there were many fine public speakers; I will mention Mr. John Minor Botts, an old-line Whig, one of the most accomplished orators of Virginia, he spoke but seldom and only on important occasions. Another prominent one was Marmaduke Johnson, a distinguished lawyer of the city, who was never surpassed in eloquence. There was also Colonel Thomas P. August, whose addresses were always received with delight by an audience of his fellow citizens. Mr. John Caskie, who represented the city and district in Congress; he was a very fluent and convincing speaker, and it was a forensic treat to listen to him. There were many others whose acquirements in oratory were not easily equalled before, or since, this day and time.

Richmond about this period of its history was in its prime, and prospects were very bright. The churches were an important feature; among the most prominent were old St. John’s, on that part of the city called “Church Hill.” In this venerable edifice, Patrick Henry delivered that celebrated speech, which kindled the first sparks, that fired the colonies to burst into rebellion against the tyranny of old King George the Third. Also there was the Methodist Church, which stood originally between Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets on East Franklin, the congregation of which removed to their new building now on Broad Street. The Second Presbyterian, on Franklin then occupied the site of Randolph’s paper box factory; this congregation built a fine house at the corner of Fifth and Main Streets. The pastor of this was one of the most celebrated divines of his day; he was succeeded by the distinguished
 
pulpit orator Doctor Moses Hoge. The First Presbyterian originally stood where the City Hall now rears its lofty towers, and a large and more modern church was erected at the corner of Grace and Madison Streets. Doctor Moore was for a long time the beloved pastor of this congregation. The Monumental Episcopal, with so many historic associations clustering around it, was built on the spot occupied by the old Richmond Theater, which years ago was burned to the ground, consuming many of the most esteemed and prominent citizens of the city and State. Doctor Woodbridge filled the pulpit of this sacred building for many years, and never was there a purer and holier minister of Christ. I remember well some of the vestrymen, such men as Mr. James Gardner, Mr. George Fisher, and others of the same stamp; they were as good men as the world ever produced, and their memory is held in kindest remembrance by all who knew them. Next, in point of age and reverence, I mention Saint Paul’s Episcopal, situated at the corner of Grace and Ninth Streets. If all the religious and historic memories of this church were fully recounted it would almost suffice to fill a volume. General Robert E. Lee’s family attended this church, as did also the General, whenever he visited his home during the progress of the great war, although he was seldom away from the front. Miss Hettie Carey and General John Pegram were married there, just before the end of the hostilities, and if my memory serves me, about a week later his lifeless body rested upon a bier in front of the altar, where he had so short a time before plighted his troth to his beautiful and most gifted bride. Doctor Minnegerode was the rector of this parish and he was one of the best theologians in the Episcopal denomination, was a distinguished professor at the Theological Seminary near
 
Alexandria, Virginia, when called to the charge of St. Paul’s. It was while President Jefferson Davis was worshipping in this sanctuary on a sabbath morning, that a message informed him of the fall of Petersburg, Va. One of the largest and most influential congregations worshipped in Saint James Episcopal Church, whose first minister for a long time was Doctor Empie, who was succeeded as rector by the venerated and most beloved of pastors, the Reverend Joshua Peterkin, of sacred memory, who was regarded by all as a beacon light of undefiled Christianity, and a lowly follower of the Blessed Saviour of mankind.

The Church of “All Saints,” on West Franklin Street, though one of the youngest Episcopal congregations, is one of the very best and most popular. Doctor Downman, the rector, is a man of ripe scholarship in divinity and of sterling piety. The vestrymen of “All Saints” are ever to the front in every deed of charity, and for the amelioration and uplifting of suffering humanity. I recall as members of this vestry Mr. F. S. Valentine, Mr. John Tyler, Mr. Peter H. Mayo, and several other well known citizens.

St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church, at the corner of Grace and Eighth Streets, is one of the oldest churches in Richmond. I remember when Bishops McGill and Keane officiated there. There was once a theological discussion carried on through the newspapers between the Bishop McGill and Doctor Plummer, of the Presbyterian denomination, who were two intellectual giants, and were well matched in vigor and zeal. I recall an amusing incident: there lived out on the Brook Turnpike a certain lady who drove to church every Sunday to her carriage, a pair of rat-tailed sorrel horses that always came quietly down the street to the church, but when their mistress was once in the vehicle, and their heads were turned homewards,
 
after services were over, they ran at a sharp gallop all the way until they reached the front gate at their home.

A very attractive feature of these churches was the fine choir music, which I am sure has never been surpassed. I remember when the choir of Monumental was composed of Mr. John Tyler, Miss Emily Denison and other noted vocalists, while at the organ presided Mr. Leo Wheat. When the funeral services were held there of Major Wheat, the commander of the New Orleans Tigers, who was killed at Cold Harbor in 1862, Miss Denison sang a solo, entitled “I Would Not Live Always.” I thought it one of the sweetest and most pathetic hymns that I ever heard. At Saint Paul’s Madam Rhul was the leading soprano, and her notes were as sweet as the warbling of a mocking bird. On one occasion I heard her when she sang that fine old hymn, “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” to the air of “When the Swallows Homeward Fly,” and indeed I do not believe that it has ever been surpassed in that grand old edifice.

Among the many interests, commercially speaking, were the real estate firms, for instance I mention, Goddin and Apperson, Taylor and Williams, Hill and Rawlings and Holliday and Rawlings. The movement of real property then was not quite so lively as it is now, but nevertheless they all did a fair business.

Another important business was that of the wholesale drug houses, among the largest were, Purcell, Ladd & Co., Peyton Johnston and Brother, Adie and Gray, William Beers & Co.; and I doubt if there has ever been any larger houses in that line, before or since. Their trade was extensive and came from all parts of the State, and neighboring States to the south. There was then no selling
 
goods through travelling salesmen by samples, but the purchasers came in person direct to headquarters and laid in their supplies.

Another leading feature of Richmond’s make-up was its corps of physicians. A man who is a specialist nowadays in any particular calling is termed a doctor, but I am now only alluding to the Doctors of Medicine—the M.D.’s—the followers of Esculapius of yore. Among these was first and foremost, Francis H. Deane, whose presence even almost revived a patient; many sick fellows recall his genial face when entering the sick chamber. He practiced in our family over thirty years. Also there was Doctor Cunningham, who was regarded as one of the best; Doctor Bell Gibson, who was esteemed the most eminent surgeon in the State. Another noted surgeon was Doctor Petticolas, whose general practice was very extensive. Then I must mention those great and good men, Doctors Skelton and Knox, who were shining lights in their profession, whose memory is cherished, as well as that of old Doctors McCaw and Marks.

The wholesale shoe houses were a big item in the city’s mercantile life. Among the leading ones were Hubbard, Gardner and Carlton, which concern did the largest business in foot-wear in Richmond; their trade was co-extensive with the State. It is doubtful if there is now a house in their line conducting a larger trade. Then there was the old and staunch firm of Putney and Watts, and also White and Page, besides several large retail stores.

At this gentlemen did not wear machine-made boots and shoes, but had them to order by native shoemakers. The fashionable footdress then was Congress gaiters and boots; Oxford ties were worn in the summer. The change in men’s attire is quite distinct, as formerly gentlemen wore
 
broad-cloth made with a Prince Albert or frock coat with pants and vests to match. A very popular style was a blue cloth clawhammer coat with plain brass buttons. Linen suits were much worn in the hot season.

At one time a Mr. Selden kept a large boarding house called “The Richmond,” which stood at the corner of Governor and Ross Streets. It was a fine house and was particularly popular with young clerks, and among the boarders was a unique person named Beau Lambert, he was a very fastidious man in his dress, always wearing a fine black suit with a dress coat, and was particular in parting the skirts of his coat on sitting down. Accordingly one day Henry Thornton, a young fellow, full of fun and tricks, took from the dinner table a dumpling of meal out of a dish of jowl and turnip salad and slipped it in Lambert’s coat pocket. It was a very greasy and disagreeable joke, and the Beau did not find out who was the perpetrator for some days, and of course he was very much displeased, but mutual friends arranged the matter amicably, and they became good friends afterwards.

The gambling establishments were an important part of the city’s life at this juncture. The law against faro banks was not strictly enforced as it is now. Their rooms were elegantly furnished, and every night a sumptuous supper was spread before their patrons, which was greatly enjoyed by many planters coming to town to sell their crops. Among the most popular ones were Worsham and Brother, the Morgan Brothers and Nat Reeves. The credit of these men was as good as that of any merchant in town. I recall an incident in connection with these games, to wit: There were three students at the medical college who were gay and up-to-date boys, but were not blessed with much cash, who frequently visited
 
Mr. Reeve’s rooms. On a certain Saturday night they went out with a tumbrie cart to procure subjects for the college to be dissected. They first backed up the cart in front of his entrance, and then asked each other how much money they had between them; one had a dollar and a half, another two dollars and the other only fifty cents, making all but three dollars, which was not enough with which to get on a good “spree.” So it was arranged, in order to carry out their fun to the best advantage, in the following manner, they appointed one as spokesman to run the small sum in their pool at Mr. Reeves’ bank in a game of faro, and as the boy walked up to the cashier to invest it in “chips,” Mr. Reeves said, “I will not sell you any, for if you should make a run on me you might win from me several hundred dollars, and if I should beat you in the game I should only gain three dollars,” and so, at these words, he took out of the drawer a ten-dollar bank note and handed it to him, saying, “Now boys go ahead, and don’t come back here again tonight.” Now, that was all they wanted; it played right into their hands, for the money enabled them to pass a gay and joyous night. These three youngsters afterwards graduated well, and all of them became successful practitioners of the “Art of Healing.”

Before the beginning of the war between the States. In those days on each “Fourth of July” picnics and barbecues were held. On one of these days I attended a barbecue at Buchanan’s Spring, which was then outside the city in the county of Henrico. A large and enthusiastic crowd was present and there were various devices for promoting mirth and pleasure. A Mr. James Ferguson, one of the city’s most prominent merchants, was there, and also Mr. William F. Watson, a lawyer of high standing.
 
Mr. Ferguson was a man of fine figure and was considered one of the best dancers in town. Mr. Watson was a portly man and weighed about two hundred and twenty pounds, and almost as broad as long. The weather was very warm indeed, and it was arranged to dance an Irish jig, there being no ladies present. They stripped off everything but their underwear and they footed it out to a finish, and it was called one of the best displays of that lively dance that had been seen for many days. The championship was awarded to Mr. Watson.

One of the most noted military organizations in Richmond at that time was the old State Guard, which occupied the armory near the Tredegar Iron Works. It was officered by Captain M. Dimmock, Lieutenant Gay and Lieutenant Clarke, and was as well drilled as the cadets at West Point. The officers frequently gave exhibitions of drills on Capitol Square, and it was a treat to see their skirmish drills, which drew a large concourse of spectators, and was one of the most interesting sights I ever witnessed. After the war the organization of the State Guard was abolished.