General J. B. Stewart, “Jeb Stewart,” who commanded the Confederate cavalry was of a remarkable personality. I saw him riding at the head of his cavalry in passing through Richmond. His hair was black and long, his face was full, with large eyes and a prominent nose, his shirt was cut low particularly in front, showing a massive neck. He sat on his horse the perfection of a horseman, holding the bridle in such a way that the horse, a well kept one, seemed to partake of his rider’s intense vitality. Although Genl. Stewart was unlike General Pickett, yet something applicable alike to the two reminded me the one of the other and when I saw General Pickett at the head of his command, as I did, pass through Richmond before the battle of Gettysburg and then saw this same command with its thinned out ranks on its return after the campaign in which that battle took place, the contrast was so heart rending that it was an exceedingly sad welcome extended them. Troops were constantly passing through Richmond the last two years of the war and the scantiness which existed in rations to which I have already alluded, the staple fare being corn bread and bacon, extended to the clothes of the soldiers. In a large command for instance a brigade it was customary to see numbers of soldiers without coats, others without hats, others without shoes, conditions almost incredible to believe unless actually seen as I often did. Upon one occasion while it was snowing a brigade of infantry was marching up Main Street and when it reached the Spottswood Hotel a hatter named Dooley who kept a hat store under the Spottswood rolled from his store a number of large wooden boxes, broke them open and took therefrom a collection of shop worn straw hats which he forthwith preceded to distribute to those of the soldiers who were without any covering for their heads to shield them from the falling snow. How our soldiers with all their discomforts, privations and sad conditions were capable of doing any fighting instead of being the brave, enduring men they were furnished a great tribute for the Southern spirit, and the Southern cause. General Ewell while he was recuperating from his serious wounds lived immediately opposite our house on Marshall street in Richmond and would daily on his crutches walk up and down the porch. He was tall and slender and in his neat gray uniform and with his dark bushy whiskers enveloping a pallid face his appearance was a reminder of the suffering he had endured.