Panic in Richmond

For hours the people of the city were kept in the most anxious suspense, for the "government" was as silent as the sphynx. Panic gradually took the place of judgement; and when, toward evening, wagons were seen a-loading with trunks and boxes at the departments, and were driven to the Danville Railway station, and it became evident that Davis and his cabinet were preparing to flee, the wildest confusion and alarm prevailed. Prominent Confederates also prepared to fly, they knew not whither; and at eight o'clock in the evening, Davis abandoned his capital and sought personal safety in flight. This act was a marked commentary on his assertion made in a speech a few weeks before: "If it were possible, I would be willing to sacrifice my life a thousand times before I would succumb." His wife had fled to Danville a few days before, and there awaited his coming. At nine o'clock in the evening, the Virginia legislature fled. The Confederate congress had already gone, having left an order for the cotton, tobacco, and other property in the city, to be burned. At midnight, all signs of a "government" had disappeared; and at three o'clock in the morning, incendiary fires were lighted. There was a fresh breeze from the south, and very soon a large portion of the chief business section of Richmond was enveloped in flames. Drunken incendiaries fired buildings not in the pathway of the great conflagration; and until dawn the city was a Pandemonium. Most of the Confederate troops had fled; and at an early hour in the morning, General Weitzel, in command of the forces on the north side of the James, entered Richmond with his colored regiments and put out the fires. Lieutenant Johnston Livingston De Peyster, of Weitzel's staff, ascended to the roof of the Virginia State-House and there unfurled the National Flag, where it had not been seen floating for four years.

Meanwhile, Davis and his associates fled to Danville, whither Lee hoped to follow. They had left the inhabitants of the capital defenceless and that city on fire; and they also abandoned five thousand of their sick and wounded in the hospitals, and a thousand soldiers, to become prisoners of war. They also left, as trophies for the victors, five hundred pieces of artillery, five thousand small arms, many locomotives and cars, and a large amount of other public property. They carried with them what gold they could seize in their haste; also the archives of the Confederate government, together with their great seal which had just arrived from England, but which was never stamped upon any public document. A part of the archives were captured by National troops, and the remainder were subsequently sold to our Government by the Confederate ex-minister to Mexico.

Tidings of the fall of Richmond went over the land on that memorable 3d of April, 1865, and produced great joy in every loyal bosom. Before sunset public demonstrations of delight and satisfaction were everywhere visible. At the National Capital, all the public offices were closed, and all business among those who were in sympathy with the Government was suspended. There was an immense gathering of people in Wall street, New York, on that day, to listen to the voices of patriotic orators; and from the tower of Trinity Church, which looks down upon that great mart of money-changers, the bells chimed music in airs consonant with the public feeling. The people lingered long; and a deep religious feeling, born of joy and gratitude, pervaded that almost innumerable throng. That feeling was remarkably manifested when thousands of voices joined in chanting the Christian Doxology to the grand air of Old Hundred.