ing armies. It was the county-seat of a rich agricultural district, and the few modern buildings presented happy contrast with the prevailing plain and uniform structures. General Lee, spring of 1864, had headquarters about two miles northeast of the town, and various divisions of his army had often stacked arms temporarily in the Main Street seeking needed rest.

The distance to Gordonsville was nine miles with one stop about midway, Madison, named after the President and not far from his former home, Montpelier. Upon leaving Orange we at once passed on our right the base of the largest hill so far encountered, but these now continued to grow in frequency and size until the end of our journey. The land no longer seemed so well adapted for best agricultural results, nor was it so highly cultivated and treated as around Culpeper, Rapidan and Orange-farmers being less careful of outbuildings, dividing fences, ravine banks, and homes, which were of less expensive style and type. Gordonsville itself apparently possessed nothing to attract a stranger, as only a good-sized whitewashed hotel paralleled the tracks and a platform beyond ordinary dimensions accommodated traffic. While a few stores and numerous small whitewashed houses indicated the town, yet it did possess more than ordinary significance as the point of intersection of our railroad (Orange and Alexandria) with the Central (Chesapeake and Ohio). For years the former road only extended to Orange, but a connecting link of nine miles was built, in order to use conjointly, by traffic arrangements, the Central's track for the next twentyone miles-Gordonsville to Charlottesville-whence its own trunk line continued southward to Lynchburg. Thus a junction of two important railroads Gordonsville was protected amply during the war as it was of great strategic value to the Army of Northern Virginia. Various divisions were passing and repassing almost continuously; General Lee spent there August, 1862, and later accepted headquarters for the winter, while General Longstreet followed the example during the winter and spring of 1864; General Jackson was not an infrequent visitor, and indeed a considerable battle was fought nearby, December 28, 1864. Apart from its former activity it seemed yet a busy place, for within the hour of our arrival

four trains, when on schedule time reached that point causing many persons to loiter around the station. Among these not a few were young students shaking hands with one another, filled with kindly expressions over renewed association. With some the meeting evidently was by accident, with others by arrangement, presenting altogether a veritable lovefeast a happy exchange of radiant smiles and fraternity grips. Who they were and whither bound found ready answer in casually observing the frank and audible conversation in no wise intended for themselves alone. The Richmond train, bearing its contingent of old and new University students, had arrived a few minutes before our Washington train, causing that youthful multitude to be grouped together here and there on the platform awaiting those we brought along-so it was the reunion of familiar forms and faces from various sections of Virginia that occasioned the excessive hilarity with its outside notice. It was then for the first time that I sadly realized what it was to be a freshman-unknown in an unknown land-barred, as I then erroneously thought, by a code of college ethics from making advances to upper classmen. Above all merriment and sober reflection, however, came the ever distracting element of humanity-the noisy and by this time less tolerant food venders-even more numerous and active than at previous places, owing to the lateness of the hour, after midday, and the first stop on the Central that furnished supplies to the weary and hungry traveler, that which made the demand and consumption somewhat phenomenal. A piece of fried chicken and bread in one hand, an egg and salt in the other, with more or less greasy mouth and fingers, seemed the rule rather than exception. My Albemarle pippins were of the past, and that ever ready organ, stomach, for that it was in those days, carried a craving for all visible goodies, so, following the prevailing fashion, I invested in the Virginia fowl. As I now revert to that occasion and investment it brings a certain sense of delight-the satisfaction of having filled the aching void with the true non-flying bird. Yes, no one need wish for better than that prepared in that day and place by the elder generation of faithful colored cooks.

CHAPTER X

ARRIVAL AT THE UNIVERSITY-MR. JEFFERSON'S CHILD AND PET

Last twenty-one miles-Gordonsville to Charlottesville; Lindseys, Keswick, Rivanna River, Shadwell-Mr. Jefferson's birthplace-Monticello, his home and place of burial; Charlottesville-friendly greeting of students; arrival at the University; meeting the Proctor, Major Peyton, and the Chairman, Colonel Venable, with whom I dined; letter from Colonel Charles Marshall; selecting room; passing of the first few days; first letter home; University work selected and begun -its character; meeting students; mass meeting in the Court House, etc.

AFTER a restless stop of ten minutes at Gordonsville we found ourselves curving slowly with screeching noise upon the Chesapeake and Ohio" track, to be increased shortly beyond our accustomed speed, as the roadbed was evidently of higher order than that already passed over, while the rails seemed heavier and firmer-indeed, made of steel and of English im'portation according to my informant. This reconciled me to the quicker service now enjoyed, that which would have made acceptable a greater distance than the twenty-one miles yet to be covered, including the three stops-Lindseys (Cobham), Keswick and Shadwell, six, fourteen and eighteen miles respectively. The road now entered a more rugged and hilly territory with scarcely a half mile curveless, some short and on grade, while the land gave evidence of richness, but the kind farmers care little to cultivate save in the absence of less rough and rocky. Lindseys, a small station around which the hand of industry appeared active, came shortly in sight, as did within the next fifteen minutes a larger village, Keswick, nestled even in a more thriving neighborhood, where pretentious homes crowned the surrounding hilltops and inclines. Our route lay at the base and between slopes of a hundred or more feet, then in the open or through deep artificial cuts of solid rocks concealing in passing our train from landscape

views, and contributing a disagreeable weird resonance from which one is always glad to make escape. A glimpse of an occasional cascade, entire or part, following abrupt declivities could be caught in shade and sunlight, while a rapidly running stream often added picturesqueness to the scene. Suddenly we came to hug for a mile or two the north (east) bank of the Rivanna River, when every moment brought us nearer to a mountain base on our left, whose lofty altitude continued to overshadow more and more our onward path. The stop at Shadwell of a minute sufficed to give those on the alert an idea of Mr. Jefferson's birth-place-the estate inherited from his father, which gradually lifted itself in irregular nodules of gently declining sides to the north (east) of the station and stream, whose rapid flow towards the James through hills and valleys afforded in the distance a panorama of an immense rolling plain relieved by a fading yellow line. Slightly to the southwest towered above us some six hundred feet the graceful little mountain, Monticello, carrying upon its summit in clear outline the majestic home built by the immortal Jefferson, while just opposite the waving crests in the northwest ascended even higher to vanish in the distance from the bluish horizon. Onward we sped encountering the mountain sides studded with stately trees and dense foliage, with scarcely diminished size and quantity towards the apex, immense overhanging boulders projecting their rugged faces partly covered with moss and indigenous ferns, persistent autumnal leaves assuming beautiful variegated tints, the brilliant shining sun diffusing its caloric rays from the western quarter causing shadows to fall now and then at various angles as the train tortuously "drew its slow length along." A moment we were in the clear, then lost to all save noise and a mountainous passage. Surely these last few miles afforded a succession of picturesque surroundings in joyous contrast with anything encountered during the day, while none was quite as impressive as that, after hugging the river's northern bank, of grading above the water-level nearly a hundred feet to pass over the stream by a long substantial unobstructed iron bridge. Thus suspended apparently amid air, the view of the river northward was somewhat unique, revealing in the foreground a high dam across the entire width, over which rolled in

lively fashion a large volume of reddish-yellow opaque water, while above (northward), until broken by a right divergence, appeared a smooth continuous golden sheet. Below (southward) the river-bed revealed many rocky boulders of varying size, around which turbulent waters rushed and spoutedfor the autumn equinox had spent itself only a few days. before, giving mountain streams excessive volume and swiftness, thereby causing the Rivanna to betray its ordinary form. and habit. At the western terminus of the "long bridge loomed up on our left a large factory building, Charlottesville Woolen Mills, whose running power was supplied mostly by the waters beyond the retaining dam. We were now approaching our last milestone, and for that distance I stood at the rear car door in order to gaze at Monticello from the best exposed position. Often the deep cuts broke the level view only to reveal in the clear the entire landscape to be a continuous table-land composed of highly cultivated fields of an irregular rolling surface, ornamented here and there with pleasant arbored homes. It was the Piedmont Valley unfolding itself in beautiful panorama.

One long shrill blast from the engine, the passing of outlying buildings, and the retarding speed brought a recognition of my approaching destination, confirmed in a few moments by the brakeman swinging open the doors and loudly calling out several times, "Charlottesville." We were entering the town at a very slow pace, with engine bell rhythmically pealing its note of warning and the car-wheels accenting the friction of hand-applied brakes. But above all could be heard distinctly the penetrating sound of a gong, which I soon saw to be of good size and manipulated vigorously by a stalwart man of color, wearing highly polished brass insignia in front of his cap and on the lapel of his coat. Added to this unwelcome noise came that of many voices uttering names and expressions to me thoroughly unfamiliar-" Central Hotel; "Farish House;" "Monticello Hotel;" "Hack, Sir;" "Buss, Boss;" "Right up to the University," etc. Amid such confusion and pandemonium our train came to a standstill, my car's forward platform just edging up to the east flagging of the Central Hotel, whose sign I easily read from the car platform with grip and umbrella in hand, but lost sight of in descending to the