Let’s recap.
Sugar’s great-grandfather William Starr Basinger from Savannah was stationed near Richmond, Virginia, during the Civil War. While calling on the homes in the area to let the families know of the Confederate presence, he met the young woman that he would return to marry after the close of the war and his imprisonment. She was Margaret Roane Garnett.
Basinger wrote the story of his life which was produced in six volumes, one for each of his children, and he writes the story as written to his children. From Basinger’s “Personal Reminiscences”, which you can click here to read the typewritten pages as transcribed by his son from the original journals, or you can read below.
226
CHAPTER XIIX
Arriving at Richmond, I supposed I would
have no difficulty in finding where the battation
had been sent. But no one could tell me, even at
the office of the Adjutant-General. I was in a
great dilemma about it, when I fell in with Genl
J F Gilmer, chief Engineer of the Army, whom I had
long known, and told him my trouble. He suggest-
ed that Genl Bragg knew all about it; and he took
me to Genl Bragg’s office and introduced me. I
found that Genl Bragg did know all about it, and
was at the bottom of everything. He was trying to
re-organize the Army, and had conceived the design
of consolidating my battalion with the 12th, under
myself as Colonel. I wished to be heard on this
subject, and stated some very serious objections to
it – but was cut short by the very peremptory state-
ment that I would be expected to submit to whatever
the Govt might order in the matter. I was by no
means convinced that the Govt could lawfully order
any such thing; but we were not then in a position
to stand upon exact legal rights, and I contented
myself with replying that if the consolidation should
be insisted on, I would, after having entered my pro-
test, take command of the proposed new regiment, if
required. But nothing ever came of this proposed
consolidation. The two battalions were separated,
as the war went on, and never came together any more.
But I learned from Genl Bragg that the
Guards had been sent to Mattoax, where the Richmond
and Danville Railroad crosses the Appomattox River;
and, being informed what duty was expected of us
there, I hurried out next day and rejoined them.
(***FOOTNOTE*** I think it was on May 28th that I
arrived at Mattoax). I found them there, sure
enough, quartered in box cars on a switch. The
R & D RR was a very important one – because over
it supplies were transported to the Army from the
227
Gulf States. It crossed the Appomattox on an iron
bridge, and Flat Creek, a tributary of the Appomat-
tox, a couple of miles from Mattoax, on a wooden
bridge. The destruction of either of the bridges
would interrupt the transportation of the supplies.
Raids of the enemy’s cavalry had gone very near
these bridges – so near as to threaten them; and
the duty assigned to the Guards was to protect these
bridges against such attacks. And a fort was in
course of construction on a hill commanding the
bridge over the Appomattox, which was intrusted (sic) to
us as a means, not only of defence, but of offence,
and which was armed with artillery suitable for the
purpose. Some works had been thrown up at the
Flat Creek bridge also; but no guns were ever mount—
ed there. We were to defend that the best way we
could.
My first care was to acquaint myself with
all the roads leading to both bridges. As my own
horse had not yet arrived, I had to be content with
borrowing a horse of a Mr. Boisseau, who lived
near by, and securing his services as a guide. A num-
ber of days were spent in this reconnoitring (sic). The
railroad station at Mattoax was on the right bank
of the river; and all the land on that side was part
of a plantation belonging, incommon, to Genl Sam
Jones, before-mentioned as being in command at Charles-
ton, and his sisters. In riding about with Mr Bois-
seau, we had constantly to pass through the private
roads of this plantation; and he often endeavored to
persuade me to go with him to the house to call upon
the ladies there. I, as constantly, refused – say-
ing that I had not been sent there to call on ladies,
but to defend those bridges. But, finally, on his
representation that I was commander of the troops,
and that the troops were upon the property of those
ladies – that there was no man in the house – and
that I ought to give them some assurance that their
property would be respected, so far as my command
was concerned, I consented to call with him. I had
nothing else in view, and no other purpose than to
ensure the ladies that they would not be disturbed
by the troops under my command. We were shown into
a parlor. After waiting a little while, I heard
a quick step coming down the stairs, and to the par-
lor door, and then entered – your mother – in the prime
228
of her youth and beauty. Soon after, she was fol-
lowed by Miss Emily Read, and then by her aunts Miss
Martha, Miss Eliza, and Miss Margaret Jones.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE
These ladies have all died since then, ex-
cept Miss Read. She is the sister of Mrs Genl Sam
Jones. There were several sisters, grand-daughter
of that George Read, of Delaware, who was one of the
signers of the Declaration of Independence. All
these sisters but Miss Emily married officers of the
1st U S Artillery – the eldest to Col Pierce, the
commander of the regiment, who was an older brother
of Franklin Pierce, President of the U S. I have
since met two others of the sisters – Mrs French
and Mrs Reeves. A daughter of the latter, Miss Min-
nie Reeves, as well as Miss Read, have, since the
war, betaken themselves to authorship, and have pub-
lished some very pleasant works of fiction.
Genl Jones and Mr B N Jones also are now
dead.
* * * * *
As I afterwards learned, these three sis-
ters (Martha, Eliza and Margaret Jones), with Mrs.
James N Garnett, and Genl Sam Jones and his brother,
Mr Benjamin M Jones, were the joint owners of the
place, which was named “The Oaks”, from the splendid
oak trees in the midst of which the house was placed.
And, really, as seen from the hill at Mattoax, or
any other distant point, it was a perfect picture of
a baronial residence. The house was an old-fashion-
ed one. It consisted of a main house and two wings
each covered by its own roof, rising, in the form
of a four-sided pyramid, to an apex. It was sadly
in want of paint, and had taken on a sort of gray
hue, which harmonized beautifully with the dense fo-
liage of the huge oaks surrounds it. All round
the house, and under the trees, was a smooth carpet
of grass. And, seen from any point, the whole as-
pect of the place was most attractive and prepos-
sessing in the highest degree. The house still
stands; and a passenger on the Richmond and Danville
229
Railroad, going either north or south, may still see
it as the train passes.
I have stated that, on arriving at Mattoax,
I found the battalion quartered in box cars switched
off on a side-track. Close to the track was a
small station-house, used buy the Agent of the Road
and the telegraph operator. This had a very small
upper room, which I took possession of for my own
quarters. But this little station house was in a
deep cut, and my quarters were fearfully hot. I
think I suffered from heat there more than in any
place I have ever been in, before or since. More-
over, the cars occupied by the troops were ranted.
And I very soon got some tents, and had the men quar-
tered in them on the slope of the hill towards the
river. My own tent, and the Adjutant’s, were pitch-
ed together higher up on the hill, immediately under
the fort, in a position from which I could see every-
thing that was going on.
The construction of the fort was conduct-
ed by an engineer officer, with negroes furnished by
the neighbors; and my men had nothing to do. There-
fore, after the daily duties of the camp were over,
as there was no need to keep them confined to the
camp, leaves of absence were freely given, and they
went visiting about the neighborhood, to their great
delectation – for they were everywhere most kindly
received and entertained, as was the wont in Virgin-
ia in those days.
My own time was very largely taken up with
a study of the country in the vicinity of the post,
with a view to the defence of the two bridges against
a possible raid. And, as my own horse, under the
care of old Joe, the fifer, arrived after a while, I
could do this at my own convenience. When I had en-
tirely learned the topography of the country so far
as was necessary to the defence of the two bridges,
I set the men to work to keep up their drill both as
infantry and artillery – guns, six and twelve pound-
ers, having been sent for the armament f our little
fort.
* * * * *
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FOOTNOTES
This horse of mine, named Bessie, became
a great favorite with your mother. She used to ride
her a great deal during our stay at Mattoax, when I
would get some other, either from the Quartermaster
or at The Oaks. It will be seen later that my horse
was paroled at Appomattox. She was faithfully tak-
en home by the man in charge of her, and put in a sta-
ble in Aunt Adeline’s yard. Unfortunately, there
was a hole in the partition which separated her stall
from another. She contrived to get one of her feet
through this hole, and in struggling to get it out,
was thrown down. She was unable to get up again,
and, being very weak from a long journey and want of
food, struggled herself to death before morning.
* * * * *
At first, after our arrival at Mattoax,
and the organization of the force for protection a-
gainst raiders, we were under the immediate command
of Brig Genl Martin.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE
Genl Martin’s first wife was one of the
Read sisters, mentioned in a previous note, and again
later, which I had forgotten when adding that note on
going over my narrative for the purpose of supplying
any omissions.
The house at The Oaks was moved to 307 Stockton Lane, Richmond, Virginia, by railcar.
We found the house. We followed the map, but went past it, as has been our protocol on this trip. It’s for sale, which was a lucky bonus for us, because we were able to find the real-estate listing and to view the interior of the home.
Did you notice that I keep objects between myself and the house, as though I expect someone to burst forth from the house with blazing six-shooters? Sugar is bold and walks right up to the house, but neither of us had the nerve to ring the doorbell. I asked would he please call the realtor and explain who he is so we can get inside the house? You know that the house would be in perfect order since it’s for sale.
There are some things that even I can’t imagine doing.
But don’t you love the love story? It’s better than Gone With The Wind.
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