Travelling from DC to Richmond by Greyhound does not take four years, but at times along I-95 it certainly felt like it. When I finally reached the capital of Virginia I was pretty aware that it was going to be a pretty Confederate-heavy break. Strolling down Monument Avenue, whose statues now serve as attractive features on roundabouts, was enough of a reminder of this. Still, Franklin Street itself was beautiful and worth visiting, and had the suitable faded grandeur which the redeveloped parts of Richmond lacked.
My first stop was the State Capitol, designed by Jefferson. On Civil War-era pictures of the city it sits proudly on a hill overlooking the James River, but it's now completely surrounded by carbuncles ruining any sense of drama or romance. Its interior is suitably grand with plenty of memorials and treasures reflecting Virginia's history from the earliest colonial days onwards. The pride of its collection is only statue of George Washington cast from life. Naturally, the Civil War features prominently. Upon entering the old debating chamber you're confronted with a large statue of Robert E Lee facing the speaker's chair. Other leading Confederates are also memorialised around the room. It felt pretty cluttered with all the dead Virginians around the place so I was not surprised that the state uses a more modern chamber in the complex for its business. The Capitol is a charming building and even its modern extensions match the look of the place.
Nearby, hiding behind a large hospital complex, are the Museum of the Confederacy and the Confederate White House. The latter is restored to its period appearance and reminded me of the National Trust houses I was dragged around as a child. In the grand lobby are two large sculptures representing 'Comedy' and 'Tragedy': I presume the irony was unintentional. In the Museum I was pleased to see a rebel shell jacket from Shiloh and I quietly laughed at a captured bucktail hanging alongside some colours. Somewhat surreally, standing proudly at the front was a rebel fish but I didn't think that was authentic.
On the way into the American Civil War Centre at the Tredegar Iron Works is the one person I didn't expect to see in Richmond: President Lincoln. The museum uses videos and photographs to explore the centrality of slavery to the war, as well the conflict’s repercussions on the home front and on political life in general. I found its repetition of the themes of 'home', 'freedom, and 'union' to be a bit sickly for my tastes but as a framing device to explain how various factions interpreted these themes it worked well. There was much to take in, however, and I'm glad I took a brief guided tour discussing the Merrimack as I would otherwise have missed the naval material lurking amongst the displays.
Just across the river from the Iron Works is Belle Isle. By 1863 up to 10,000 Union prisoners were kept on what Harper's Weekly described as a "sandy desert...low, damp, swept with winds, and wrapped in fogs." How could I resist? I wandered across the footbridge to the island, and was met with midges and the lingering smell of dog urine. I ambled around the site of the prisoners' encampments for a while, but in an uncharacteristic act of disregard for Unionmen decided that whilst they might have suffered there from insect bites and worse, I had no intention of doing so, and headed back across the bridge.
I finished my time in Richmond at the Hollywood Cemetery, where the remains of various leading Confederates, including JEB Stuart, George Pickett, and Jeff Davis are found. Whilst I did hunt for these famous internees, I ended up spending more time around the common soldiers' graves. Their memorial is a simple brick pyramid, allowing for more sombre reflection than that offered by the grand tombs elsewhere in the cemetery.
Although I enjoyed my time in Richmond, and can highly recommend the 'Capitol Ale House' for its extensive range of beers, much of its beauty is hidden behind modern office blocks. I realise the rebels burnt it all down as they fled, but that was at least a hundred years before these monstrosities were built. As with Oxford, it's as if the city planners deliberately ensured that no scenic Southern street would be lack at least one ghastly eyesore. The commercial areas off Broad Street are even worse, but at least they are away from the historic centre.
A final piece of advice: when hiring a taxi to a motel, be sure to remember its address as drunkenly giving the wrong one and confidently pointing at a random location on a sketch map leads to a scenic night time tour of the Richmond suburbs and a $60 fare. But officially that never happened.