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Chapter 16 “A Bitter, Bitter Draught”: Journey’s End, April– May 1865 The ever-shrinking peripatetic Confederate government left Greensboro on April 15 by wagon, the rail lines having been so badly torn up by Stoneman’s raiders that it was not considered prudent to continue by train. The day before its departure, Davis held a cabinet meeting at which virtually all the chief Confederate officials, civilian and military, urged him to seek terms of peace.1 Davis refused to face the reality that his nation had virtually ceased to exist and opted to continue southward in quest of some miraculous resuscitation. Dooley and his companions found Davis and the remnant of his government in Charlotte. Dooley concludes the telling of his Civil War experience in the latter portion of “Trip to Lynchburg.” [lt] April 19th Stoneman’s raiders are said to be nearby and are expected in the town before daybreak: if so, the sleeping townsmen are not much concerned at his near approach for they are sleeping so soundly that we are unable to gain admission into any home, not even Mr. Kerr’s Hotel. There are however some hard benches under a large porch in front of Mr. Kerr’s Hotel and stretching our wearied limbs upon these we soon fall asleep with drowsy imaginings of Stoneman and his blue coated, rip snorting, loud swearing, roost robbing, loud yelling horse thieves dashing down the street in full charge and carrying the town by storm. “A Bitter, Bitter Draught” 382 The Blue coats don’t come, however, and let us snooze in peace till aurora, blushing for the deeds of fallen man gently ascends the rosy summit of the East. Major Kerr,2 the proprietor of this hotel, had a son now deceased, who was in former years a school fellow of Col. Kenan. Col. Kenan therefore has sufficient recommendation in his person and in the old remembrances and associations which he can awaken in the venerable old gentleman’s breast, to receive a hospitable and kind reception from the father of his former friend. Major Kerr invites us all to stay at his house and he will try to do something for us, although he has been obliged to close up for the public, owing to the difficulty of procuring provisions and the worthlessness of Confederate paper. After washing our hands & faces we take a substantial breakfast and begin to reflect: what next? The government is completely disorganized and can neither support its soldiers nor paroled officers. The only organized body of troops that have made their way from Virginia are Duke’s3 & Vaughan’s4 brigades of cavalry. Their officers are, many of them, jingling their spurs around the hotel with abundance of silver in their pockets , living high, etc. How they have obtained this specie I don’t know, but suppose they have either captured it or it is being paid to them by the Government—which probably had not means of transportation for all its specie and therefore distributed some of it for safe keeping with these troops who have, for their brave and close adherence to the fortunes of our fallen Republic, the best right & title to receive some pay.5 I recognize Maj. Steele6 among the officers of these Brigades, also Charley Donegan, a college fellow of mine, who also left prison about the same time that I did—and there are several other familiar faces on the street. Every one advises me to go no farther South and I think I shall follow this advice. Enquiring about two prison room-mates who reside here (Bob & Lee Hand) I am directed to their grandmother’s, a few doors from the Hotel, whom I find to be a nice old Irish lady. She informs me that Bob & Lee live some miles in the country and that the Yankees have possession of a ford between the town and their house. I desire very much to reach them for I am perfectly wretched here in Charlotte: knowing no one, and having no claim on any one for bed or board; but it appears impossible to get to my prison friends and I am more than ever thoroughly disgusted. I think the best thing for me to do is to go back to Richmond, but suppose I can do that, what then? Will not they be all beggars like myself : oh what a wretched condition of affairs we are all plunged in by this unfortunate war. Meet a young fellow named...

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