Thy Will Be Done – Chapter 8 August-September, 1861 – Returning to Fountain Rock and Family Does Not Exceed The Reach of Armies by Jim Surkamp.

824 words

TRT: 9:54 Video link:

With support from American Public University System ( (The sentiments expressed do not in any way reflect modern-day policies of APUS, and are intended to encourage fact-based exchange for a better understanding of our nation’s foundational values.

Fountain Rock, the Boteler’s Home , today the site of the pavilion at Morgan’s Grove

In the after years the young people listening to these wartime tales never forgot, amid more exciting things, the description of the first night at Fountain Rock after the heart-burdened hurry of the journey back to war-clouded Virginia. The sound of the wind in the trees, the ripple of the water pouring through the dairy, the soft stir of insect life, all the “live murmur” of the summer night fell upon the travelers with strange impressiveness after the hustle and jar of the city.

Hope, fear and consolation were seldom voiced. The Fountain Rock family could not bear to stay longer in Baltimore and as soon as a pass could be obtained from the provost marshal of the city, Gen. Lew Wallace, Mrs. Boteler and her two daughters, Helen and Charlotte, returned to Fountain Rock. There they found Mr. Boteler and his wounded son. How changed the boy was! His wound, tho disabling was not serious, but he had been ill from exposure and his mother and sisters did not recognize at first in the pale, bearded man the boy who had been full of youthful vigor and confidence a few months before. He left in a few weeks to rejoin his regiment while his father was occupied at home and in the valley camps nearby. The quiet of the country felt strangely at first upon the overstrained nerves of the returning refugees. – (1).

That August, on information from Shepherdstown blacksmith and Unionist, Joe Welshans, federal troops of the 13th Massachusetts Infantry, under Col. Leonard encamped on the Maryland side of the Potomac from Shepherdstown, came to Fountain Rock in the middle of the night to arrest Boteler, then a Confederate Congressman.

Tippie Boteler wrote:

Pa had half-dressed & gone down to the back doors, at which he found massed bayonets & finding there was no escape went himself to the (front) door, threw it wide open & asked what they meant by coming at that time of night to a gentleman’s house . . .

Boteler was held for a day and then released, a decision criticized later by a higher-up. After he was freed, Tippie Boteler wrote that one (enemy soldier) said: “You are a very dangerous man.” Pa said, “yes, last night unarmed, barefoot & half-dressed.” – (2).

Rezin Davis, Lizzie Shepherd & Their Three Children Have Company.

Shortly after this return Elizabeth Shepherd joined her husband at the Lower Farm, where Davis Shepherd’s father and mother had been since spring. As the summer wore on, the yankees encamped on the other side of the river grew more and more aggressive, and one morning in September they opened fire full upon the place. Bullets whizzing through the trees and minie balls flattening themselves against the stones of the river front of the house kept those within in dread for hours.

It soon became imperative that the family should seek safety elsewhere. A few necessary articles were hastily gathered together, the children were lifted through the windows facing south out of reach of the constant fire, the grown people crept out through the basement. Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, Sr. and their daughter went to John Shepherd’s and Davis and his family went, of course, to Fountain Rock.

That night the Union soldiers (from Indiana-JS) came across the river and took possession of the abandoned house. They told the servants left on the place that they might have anything they wanted. The negroes afterwards described with graphic detail the revels of the occupying soldiers, who amused themselves by placing wine glasses on their boot toes and kicking them up against the ceiling and smashing other fragile articles found in the china closet and on the mantels. They were afraid to eat any of the provisions, for fear of poison, they said, but they were quite as willing to appropriate for destruction as for us and soon put the place in sorry condition. All the preserves and pickles in the pantry were emptied in an unpleasing puddle in the front yard. The doors were split from top to bottom by sabre strokes, and many things of value were carried away for souvenirs. The servants were delighted to exercise their wits in recovering for Mrs. Shepherd some of the things taken by the soldiers and told with glee how they had “stolen them back for the mistress.” – (3)

Two cousins of the Botelers, also from Shepherdstown, enlist in the First Rockbridge Artillery and 12th Virginia Cavalry in October, 1861 – joining the many other relations in those units.

BOTELER, CHARLES PEALE: Pvt. Res. Shepherdstown, Enl. Centreville 10/23/61. Present 10/12-31/61 and 2/1-5/62. Ab. on leave for 34 days 2/6/62. Present 3/62 until transf. Ashby’s Cav. 4/2/62. In Signal Corps Army of NVa. 10/1-11/30/63. Brother of Henry Boteler.

BOTELER, HENRY: Res. Shepherdstown. Enl. Fairfax CH 10/10/61. Present 1/10–31/61 and 5/1-2/62. Ab. on 34 days, beginning 2/6/62. Present 3/62-8/31/64. Present 9-10/64, promoted 7th Cpl. Present 11-12/64. Surrendered Appomattox 4/9/65. Brother of Charles P. Boteler. – (4).


U. S. Census 1860

Civil War Service Records – National Archives and Records Administration (NARA)

Elizabeth Stockton Pendleton, “A Wartime Incident,” The Shepherdstown Register. March 8, 1934; same article also September 25, 1924.

Helen Boteler Pendleton, The Shepherdstown Register, January 25, 1934.

Main Image Credits:

The Blacksmith’s Shop 1863 by Eastman Johnson

A map of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad and its principal connecting lines uniting all parts of the East & West. – A. Hoen & Co. Baltimore, Lith. by A. Hoen & Co. [1860].

African-American woman – David Hunter Strother – West Virginia University

“Battle of Wilson’s Creek” – N.C. Wyeth

Lewis “Lew” Wallace circa 1865 –

Confederates of the Army of Northern Virginia captured in 1864 during the Overland Campaign. Photographed at White House Landing, Va. (F. T. Miller’s Photographic History Of The Civil War)

Colonel Samuel H. Leonard; pictured above, Carlisle Army Heritage Education Center; Massacusetts MOLLUS Collection

Unidentified soldier. (Confederate Drummer boy) – AUGUST 4, 2012 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

Detail (the drum) from A Break, Playing Cards, 1881 by Julian Scott.

NEXT: Chapterette 9.

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 9 October-December, 1861 – Fountain Rock’s Nighttime Search Takes Away Lizzie’s Husband Rezin Davis Shepherd Jr. To Prison by Jim Surkamp

1268 words

TRT: 13:39 Video link:

With support from American Public University System ( (The sentiments expressed do not in any way reflect modern-day policies of APUS, and are intended to encourage fact-based exchange for a better understanding of our nation’s foundational values.

Elizabeth Stockton Boteler-mrs Rezin Davis Shepherd + Alexander R. Shepherd-her son2

During the next two months Davis Shepherd spent most of his time in camp, but when off duty would come to his family at Fountain Rock.

In November, 1861 all the Confederate forces on the river were called in and he was ordered to report with his company to Colonel McDonald at Winchester. The same day that this order was received a message was brought to him that Redmond Burke had escaped from the Old Capitol Prison in Washington and was waiting to see him in Shepherdstown. Davis met the Confederate scout in the village and received from his hands copies of the plans of fortifications around Washington. Burke feared that he might be taken and wanted copies of his papers to be in safe hands in case of accident

The men of Davis’ company were housed for the night in the old market house and he came back to Fountain Rock. In the meantime, Mrs. S. one of the Union sympathizers of the town, was hastening up the river to the yankee camp with word of Redmond Burke’s return and of the whereabouts of Davis and his company.

Acting on information given by this woman, the soldiers encamped in Maryland, crossed the river and came to Fountain Rock at midnight. The rap of bayonets on the door roused the family, who were ready in a few moments to meet the crowd of soldiers who pushed into the house and swarmed all over it in every direction.

Davis Shepherd disappeared at the first noise of their approach and no one knew where he had hidden himself – a much safer situation than if the four frightened women had helped him find a hiding place. A demand was made for candles to aid in the search, and Helen (Tippie) Boteler went to the pantry, but was so closely surrounded by men that she could not raise her hand from her side. She could raise her voice, however, and cried out indignantly, “Is this to be allowed?” Immediately the men fell back, and procuring the necessary light, she carried it for the searchers from room-to-room.

They thrust their bayonets through every mattress, even lifting with the point of a bayonet, the mattress of the crib in which little Fanny was sitting up in still, wide-eyed terror. Finding an old musket in the corner of one of the garret rooms, they seized on it with enthusiasm.

“Cap! aw, Cap! here’s a gun.” One of them cried. “Take it by all means,” said Tippie holding up the candle. “You will find it worthless. There are no useful arms here; they are all in the hands of our brave soldiers!” This pronounced with as much fervor as she could command seemed to end their interest in the weapon and they left it where it stood.

Finally they came to a curious cubby-hole under the roof where the old and newer parts of the building joined. This low attic space was entered by one of the soldiers, who had to crawl through a doorway not more than two-and-a-half feet high to search it. He came back in a moment, his face white and eyes staring. “There’s a man in there!” he exclaimed, with as much fear in his tone as if he had found a wildcat. Davis Shepherd came out before they had time to fire at him and stood tall and straight in the narrow landing at the head of the garret stairs, facing his captors. He had taken off his uniform containing the papers and left them under the eaves. The soldiers did not go back for them, but allowing time only for a hasty completion of toilet carried him off with them at once.

When the little group of women saw him there in the hands of the enemy with an unknown fate before him, all possibility of brave sounding speech left them, and husband and wife said goodbye with the expressionless quiet of desperate self-control.

On their way through town the company separated. One of the squad went to the market house. The leader knocked at the door and called out in the darkness. “Get up, boys! Davis Shepherd is out here and wants you right away!” “All right!” “We’re coming!” “I’ll go anywhere with Davis!” “I’d get up to fight a yankee any time of night!” Came the answering calls from Davis’ guard as they scrambled from bed and went out one-by-one to meet their unexpected capture. The other division of the company was on the lookout for Redmond Burke. They had been directed to the house of George McGlincy, the town constable. Not finding the man they wanted here, they took McGlincy prisoner instead.

But Redmond Burke was in the house all the time. When the alarm came, he was seized with terror. He was a brave man, but the idea of being trapped this way was an agony! “Hide me! Hide me!” he begged of McGlincy’s daughter. She took him to the top of the house and pointed to the rafters. A man could lie along one of the heavy beams in the obscurity of the dark garret in comparative safety if he could once get there. Burke looked up, measuring the distance above his head with a quick eye, then turned to “Gin” McGlincy in dismay. “Here, stand on my shoulder!” she whispered; and she stood firm while he swung himself up, his heavy-nailed boot making a deep mark in her flesh.

As she came down the stairs she met the search party who were just entering. The sight of them filled her with anger, and taking her stand at the head of the narrow stairway with an axe handle she beat back the soldiers who attempted to come up. When she finally allowed them to pass her, Burke had so successfully hidden himself that they soon gave up the search.

In the dark dawn, the soldiers rowed back across the river with their prisoners and discussed the adventures of the night in Davis Shepherd’s hearing. “My, but don’t those rings on Miss Boteler’s fingers sparkle!” said one. “I’m coming back to get ‘em someday!”

“I’d like to have a picture of her!” said another. “Did you see how her black eyes flashed when she said: “They’re all in the hands of our brave soldiers?” mimicking the dramatic manner of (Tippie Boteler-JS) .

One must not at this late day dwell upon the horror of prison life nor tell the story of all that Davis Shepherd suffered while in the hands of the Federal authorities. Two deliberate attempts were made upon his life, one at Keedysville and again at Williamsport. He was put in solitary confinement. At one time he was taken desperately ill and the doctor who tended him looked him over and remarked, “It’s a pity Alex Boteler’s son-in-law should die a natural death!”

When they reached Washington he was made to march up and down the streets in the custody of his self-important captors until he could walk no further. They had to carry him at last to his cell in the Old Capitol prison. When the articles for exchanging him as a political prisoner were prepared – it was said he was a prisoner of war; and when preparations were made for his exchange as a prisoner of war, he was declared a political prisoner. His health was wrecked by poisoned food given him; every indignity was put upon him. Filth and disease surrounded him. – (1).


Elizabeth Stockton Pendleton, “A Wartime Incident,” The Shepherdstown Register. March 8, 1934; same article also September 25, 1924.

Helen Boteler Pendleton, The Shepherdstown Register, January 25, 1934.

Main Image Credits:

Images of Boteler and Shepherd Family – courtesy Leslie Keller and the Boteler/Pendleton Family

“Tippie Boteler” with candle – adapted from painting by Godfried Schalcken

Title: [Washington, D.C. The Old Capitol Prison, 1st and A Streets NE]
Date Created/Published: [Between 1860 and 1865] – Library of Congress

Title: [Washington, D.C., vicinity. Seven officers by a big gun in a fort]
Date Created/Published: [Between 1860 and 1865] – Library of Congress

Gamble, William H.
Plan of the City of Washington, the Capitol of the United States of America
Philadelphia: S.A. Mitchell, 1861; Courtesy of Murray Hudson, Halls, Tennessee.

Harper’s New Monthly Magazine Volume 0033 Issue 194 (July 1866)
Title: Recollections of the War [pp. 137-160]
Author: Strother, D. H. p. 151 “not at home.”

Works by Adalbert John Volck at the Metropolitan Museum of Art – Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1938:
Searching for Arms (from Confederate War Etchings)
Marylanders Crossing the Potomac to Join the Southern Army (from Confederate War Etchings)
Smuggling Medicine (from Confederate War Etchings)

“Home,” Harpers Weekly, Feb. 25, 1865

“Home Sweet Home” by Winslow Homer – circa 1863

NEXT: Chapterette 10.

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 10 January, 1862 – A “Chilling” Account of Stonewall Soldierhhood

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TRT: 22:45 Video link:

Chapterette 10: A Love-Prospecting Henry Kyd Douglas Writes Tippie Boteler from a 2nd Virginia Infantry Encampment Amid the Worst Winter Weather Conditions in West Virginia, Yet Perhaps Unable to Warm Her Heart.

Henry Kyd Douglas

January, 1862 – A “Chilling” Account of “Stonewall” Soldierhood

Letter from Henry Kyd Douglas to Tippie Boteler, Winchester, January 12, 1862.
My Dear Miss Tippie – I’ve been to the Springs since I read your delightful last (letter). It may appear to common people as a very peculiar taste but it is a matter of taste alone, and as I never enjoyed the pleasure of visiting this or that locality in the summer and in time of peace, I did have an opportunity of going to Bath (Berkeley Springs) in winter, when everything was gilded with snow. You perceive therefore that the “one great wish so new to all hearts” that our Brigade might not be sent to Romney, was gratified in a very Delphic and to us unsatisfactory manner. But we all stand on a level (I mean all of Jackson’s and Loring’s commands) now. Before this trip it was a common thing for the members of Genl. Loring’s command to remark that it was very true though Stone-Wall had seen some hard marching and a goodly share of sharp fighting, but they had never endured the hardships of the mountain bivouac, or been exposed to the blasts of western Virginia and its deep snow. They recounted their severe trials, their hair-breadth scrapes, in wonderful eloquence, until that credulous portion of Christendom – the female sex – listened with admiration and awe and began to the chagrin of us Jacksonites to love them for the dangers they had seen. But we’ve got even now. They have been compelled to admit that they have endured within the past two weeks what they never endured before. With sufficient degree of zeal, we will hereafter be able to hold our share of the sympathies of those who hear of this the hardest march since those of Napoleon. But it has had a terrible effect upon the troops, as the overflowing hospitals of Winchester attest. About eight hundred soldiers have been rendered unfit for duty by sickness and four-horse wagons are continually arriving filled with living evidences of the hardships we have seen, while scores of sick soldiers that cannot be accommodated are being daily sent off to Staunton and other hospitals. I think the sentimentalists who imagine that there is no way to die in war but in battle, would be shocked at the sight of those who are expiring without a wound, and would feel disposed to modify that Plato quotation,”Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” (Not by Plato, but from the Roman lyrical poet Horace’s Odes III.2.13 – JS). The line can be roughly translated into English as: “It is sweet and fitting to die for your country.) – (1).

But to begin at the beginning and be as brief as possible – for I’ve nothing else to write about and may as well fill my letter with a short account of our trip to the Springs (a la correspondent for news-paper) however uninteresting it may prove.

About 4 o’clock on New Year’s morning we were awakened by an untimely reveille and long roll. Every soldier knew before he left his bed (excuse my civilized style of saying “bed”) that a march was before him in celebration of the advent of 1862. No one knew whither, but a majority dolefully thought of Romney. About day-light we were on the way, puzzling as to our course. The day was pleasant, although rather warm for marching. It was soon evident that the whole army (militia included) was along and an active expedition was expected. About dark we bivouacked (which means we encamped within tents).

Our brigade was placed upon a high hill covered with pine-trees, resembling the spur of a mountain. Very soon the winds commenced blowing in real winter blasts and increasing in fierceness kept it up all night. Our baggage, being in the rear of the whole wagon train which was about 5 miles long, did not reach us at all that night and consequently we were left exposed to the “cold chilly winds” without a blanket and many without their overcoats. Pine fires were built, but the smoke and sparks were dashed in all directions so furiously that it was almost impossible to stand near enough to the fires to keep moderately comfortable (by moderately I mean one side – for while it would be warm the other side would be freezing).

Many threw themselves down on the ground, determined to try and sleep amid the smoke and sparks. The consequence was that very few of them escaped without burned clothes. I know I did not. I laid down by the fire and, covering my head with the cape of my overcoat, tried to sleep. I had just succeeded in getting into a nap when I was awaked by a severe shake and on looking up found several soldiers engaged in putting out the fire which had caught my overcoat in several places. Satisfied that sleep under the circumstances was impossible I stood by the fire for the rest of the night – and was duly thankful in the morning that I was still alive. At the sounds of the drum the march was resumed and continued until about 3 p.m. when we bivouacked until next morning and commenced the march again. This was a cold disagreeable day but we kept up the march until after 10 at night.

In the meantime we had white-spotted evidence that it was going to snow and to add to the disagreeability of the march, some poor fellows fell in the many runs we crossed after dark, and the ice on their clothes soon reminded one of sleighing times only this situation was not quite as comfortable as it might have been in ordinary times. That night we had more than our quantity of bed-clothing for, in putting my head out from under the blankets, whither it had been driven by sleet and snow, I found in the morning about two inches of the old goo(s)man’s geese feathers on top of my bed. I had observed frequently during the night that the snow (which is much more insinuating and curious than rain) had penetrated through the small crevices between the blankets and brought itself in very disagreeable contact with my head and face.

But I am getting admirably prolix. The next day we entered Bath and our brigade quartered there for the night. Our camp staid in a beautiful cottage built by Mr. McGilmer of Bath for a summer residence and slept on the spring lawn. It was beautifully furnished, French bedsteads, etc. oil-cloth and matting on the floor; innumerable beautiful engravings and some very handsome paintings around the walls – entirely too handsome for soldiers’ barracks. I should have preferred a good stable loft. But I’m glad to say nothing was injured and we left it very early next morning. But we had at least spent one night in Bath and that in the winter.

Did you ever read “The Daltons”? If so do you remember the description of Baden, the celebrated German watering place in winter. The resemblance to Bath is clear. To those who live at such a place all the time, the contrast between summer and winter must make either one or the other, according to the fancy, all most unendurable.

Just imaginatively repeople Bath with its summer visitors, gauze drapes, bare arms, low necks, light slippers, bare-heads – walking through the snow, stepping on ice, and watching the white rocks and leafless trees on the barren hill that rises up among the winds and seems to protect Bath. Wouldn’t it be a suggestive but strange sight? But we left Bath and went on to the river about four miles. The yankees had fled precipitately from Bath and owing to the cowardice and inefficiency of the contemptible militia, had escaped us, except about 24 prisoners. However, we got several yankee storage-houses with army stores to the value of 30 or 40,000 dollars, burned Capon Bridge and tore up a part of the B&O R. Road. Our camps fared very well in yankee plunder, some getting jackets, some hats, shoes etc. and some entering into speculations by selling what they had captured or stolen. But the suffering of the soldiers during these few days and until the army arrived where it now is, was greater, much greater than I had described, between rain, snow, ice and cold. It was the Valley Forge of the Revolution, even to the frozen and bleeding feet. I cannot bore you by a description and even if given it would seem almost incredible.

One little episode was decidedly interesting to the soldiers. Amid the snow and ice, several messes in our camp regaled themselves with corn and tomatoes, canned, taken from the yankees and as delightful and fresh as I have ever seen them in winter. The last march the army took to where it now is – was a dreadful one. The road was almost an uninterruptible sheet of ice, rendering it almost impossible for man or beast to travel, while by moonlight, the beards of the men, (not mine), matted with ice and glistening like crystals, presented a very peculiar yet ludicrous appearance. I have not been able to find a man in the 2nd Reg. who did not fall down at least twice. I laid down (rapidly and with emphasis) three times. 3 men in our brigade broke their arms falling, and several rendered their guns useless. Several horses were killed and many wagons were compelled to go into night quarters along the road, being unable to get along at all. Nearly all the march of 18 miles was made after dark. But I’ll describe (it) no further and but leave the brigade and regiment where it is – about 23 miles from here at Unger’s store.

How long they will remain there and what they will do next I know not, although I should not be surprised to see them here before long. Col. Ch. Jas. Faulkner has gone to Richmond for orders. You know he is one of Genl. Jackson’s aide de camp.

Probably you have asked what I am doing in Winchester with my company so far away. I arrived here last night. A general court martial convened by Genl. Johnston meets here to-morrow, of which I am Judge-Advocate, viz. prosecutor for the court, or in other words it is my duty to prepare and try all the cases brought before it. I have 15 to begin with and will be kept here at least 2 weeks, probably a month. I was ordered here (by) Genl. Jackson last night and came with Ned Lee who is a member of the court. Were it not for the court I would now be in Shepherdstown, as I could have received a furlough several days ago, but was detained and sent here for duty. I am certainly not sorry to get away from camp, although the duties of a Judge-Advocate are many and his responsibility great. I will send this letter to you at Shepherdstown although it is probably from what you said in your last that you are in Lynchburg. Hoping to hear from you very soon, with a letter that will rival mine in length, with many good messages to you, Ma and family, I am Yours in inexpressible friendship, Henry Kyd Douglas – (2).

February 11, 1862 – Winchester, Va. – Sickness Rewards Col. Allen with the Welcome Trappings of Home Life.

Because of sickness and duties like Douglas’ at the court-martial hearings in the Winchester Courthouse, Col. James Allen, the commander of the 2nd Virginia infantry, enjoyed the comforts of a home there and the presence of his wife, Julia, and their little son, Hugh. In a letter to James’ sister, Fanny, Julia wrote:

He was taken about ten days ago with a disorder of the stomach & bowels, which he neglected, & continued at the Court House every day through all the rain & mud until he was so weakened as to be forced to stay in and have a Doctor. He has now been in bed five days with more or less fever all the time, though the original disease is controlled, Nature seems to be slow in righting herself. He is kept on very light diet, Toast & Tea, Jelly and Oysters & by the way there is no Green Tea to be gotten in this place, and the Coffee, mostly or wholly Rye. I wish I could get at some of Mother’s stores now. Mr. A. won’t drink Black Tea which is Hobson’s choice here. The Dr. said he had no fever this morning and thinks he will be up in a day or two! – (3).


The Papers of Henry Kyd Douglas – Perkins Manuscript Division – Duke University

part of paragraph one – Julia Pendleton Allen Civil War Letter. A Confederate Officer’s Wife in Winchester, Virginia
Virginia Military Institute Archives. VMI Collection note: The original letter is privately owned. The owner provided the VMI Archives with a copy of the original and granted us permission to publish the letter on our website, so that its content could be made available to researchers.

The Daltons: Or, Three Roads in Life. Published 1859 by Chapman and Hall.

Main Image Credits From Video

The Pension Claim Agent Eastman Johnson – 1867

Beyer, Edward. (1858). “Album of Virginia” Richmond, VA.: published by s.n. – Rockfish Gap and the Mountain House

Les chevreuils dans la neige, Gustave Courbet, huile sur toile, 54 x 72,5 cm, musée des Beaux-Arts, Lyon, France. Date circa 1866

Napoleon’s retreat from Pontin’s Southport by Adolph Northen

Horace reading before Maecenas by Fyodor Bronnikov

Horace, portrayed by Giacomo Di Chirico –

Frozen Wappingers Falls, New York State

The Mud March, Giovanni Ponticelli

Mud March – Harpers Weekly, March 19 1864.

Baden-Baden, view from conversation house, around 1850

Charles J. Faulkner –

William W. Loring – wikipedia,org

The Vidette – from “The long roll” by Mary Johnston; with illustrations by N.C. Wyeth. Published 1911 by Houghton Mifflin Co., Riverside Press in Boston, Cambridge. p. 642.

Edwin Forbes sketch of a Civil War Soldier in Winter Camp. – Library of Congress
Rainy Day in Camp (also known as Camp near Yorktown) by Winslow Homer.

“Winter quarters on the Rappahannock- army huts of the One Hundred and Nineteenth Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers, near Falmouth, Va.” Frank Leslie’s “Famous Leaders and Battle Scenes of the Civil War.” (New York, NY: Mrs. Frank Leslie, 1896).

Winter bivouac – “Battles and Leaders. Vol. 1.” (1887). Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buel (Ed.). New York, NY: Century Co. p. 483.

Map showing Bath, Va. and the surrounding region – “Battles and Leaders. Vol. 2″. (1887). Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buel (Ed.). New York, NY: Century Co. p. 284.

Men sleeping; Men standing in the cold – Horace Carpenter. “Experiences of War Prisoners. Plain Living at Johnson’s Island.” The Century; a popular quarterly Volume 0041 Issue 5 (Mar 1891). p. 705; p. 711.

Autumn Scene in the North Carolina Mountains by William Aiken Walker

Sherry Sir? 1890 by Thomas Waterman Wood

Autumn Leaves 1870 by Thomas Waterman Wood

Autumn Scene on the Edge of A Cornfield by William Aiken Walker

Lying man, sick and thin – T. H. Mann. “A Yankee in Andersonville.” The Century; a popular quarterly Volume 0040 Issue 3 (July 1890). p. 447.

Harper’s Weekly, September 7, 1861, p. 569.

Winchester, Va. during Civil War – The National Park Service

A Visit from the Old Mistress 1876 by Winslow Homer

(detail) Girl Eating Oysters by Jan Steen

Ear of rye –

Mucha-Untitled (seated woman with coffee cup) –

NEXT: Chapterette 11.

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 11 March, 1862 – Freedom Comes Hard To Rezin Davis Shepherd and Almost Too Late; But Freedom Offered by Hugh Pendleton at Westwood to His Many Enslaved Brings The Best Day Ever by Jim Surkamp –

2719 words

TRT: 24:57 Video link:

With support from American Public University System ( (The sentiments expressed do not in any way reflect modern-day policies of APUS, and are intended to encourage fact-based exchange for a better understanding of our nation’s foundational values.



The harsh winter of 1861-1862 slowly yielded to spring and new growth, new signs of life re-awakening – and a barely recognizable man coming across the yard to Fountain Rock:

One chilly day in March the family at Fountain Rock saw a strange man slowly making his way through the grove from the Ridge road. He appeared old and ill and no one knew that it was Davis until he reached the porch. Knowing that his life was nearly gone he had sworn to give no further aid or assistance to the cause he had loved and had come home. He had walked all the way from Harper’s Ferry. Always a lover of the fields and woods and mountains, and especially a lover of the river near which he had lived all his life, Davis Shepherd had come home spent and heart-broken to die. – (1).

Freedom Is Offered by Hugh Pendleton at Westwood to His Many Enslaved; George Slow Also Finds A Friend For A Lifetime.

In late February, 1862 Federal General Nathaniel Banks crossed into Virginia at Harper’s Ferry, ventured through Charlestown and continued deeply into the Shenandoah Valley into what would be for his troops a disastrous encounter with Confederate General Stonewall Jackson’s very fleet and hard-fighting brigade.

Those enslaved persons in Jefferson County and beyond seized the opportunity to depart from the farms they worked and stubbornly affix themselves and their families to this massive Federal army, while it was here and available. Many found finding work and shelter at Harper’s Ferry.

Their number probably would soon exceed two thousand, based on newspaper reports of the number of African-Americans at Harper’s Ferry in September, 1862. – (2).

The exodus began in March, shortly after Bank’s army appeared in the County. His chief-of-staff, David Hunter Strother, whose wife lived in Charlestown and who had memorably encountered his friends in the Virginia militia in April, 1861, as war was starting, kept a diary that charted the number of African-Americans arriving in the spring of 1862 at Federal encampments.

He remarked in his diary on March 8th – An excitement was produced in town by the arrival of a wagon load of Negro women and children with bag and baggage as if bound for a free country, . . . I understand they were forwarded to Harper’s Ferry. . . Numbers of men have flocked into town more or less every day since our occupation (of about ten days.-JS). – (3).

Enslaved were leaving their farms all over the county. At Adam Stephen Dandridge’s farm, The Bower, Dandridge recorded leaving that spring of 1862: a woman and her two children, two men and one boy, “some men,” 38-year-old John Pinco, and 19-year-old William. – (4).

James and Ann Hooff wrote in their daily farm diary on March 12, 1862: When we got up we found every women and child gone – took our wagon and moved everything – several of the neighbors’ servants gone at the same time. – (5).

Enslaved African-Americans leave Mt. Pleasant farm of Charles Aglionby and his family. He wrote in his farm diary:

March 10 – Monday – Negroes go into the Union Lines – Left the premises last night the following slaves:
Martha – 17 years old, sound, healthy, stout, color rather light;
Laura – black, 39 years old, medium size, handy at all works;
Louis – 23 years old, not very tall, but thick set complexion, copperish;
Bob – 17 years old, a mulatto, chunky, but not tall or large for his age;
Henry Robinson – dark complexion, slender male, age supposed to be thirty or upwards, he is the property of Mrs. Elizabeth Strider and had Laura for his wife.

March 13 – Wednesday – More workers leave by night:
Left last night Ralf Madison Hall, aged 26, dark, good looking, heavy set, medium height, boot and shoe maker; Silas Hall ditto from Mr. Conklyn about same time, aged 14 years. – (6).

Some returned to their farms and owners in May when it briefly appeared that Stonewall Jackson might capture Harper’s Ferry. Hoping for mercy, some of these returnees were promptly and angrily re-sold by the owner. – (7).

Hugh Nelson Pendleton, who built in the early 1850s his farm abode called Westwood just west of Rippon and near the border with Clarke County, had written of his animus against enslavement.

As of the summer of 1860, he had ten men and six women at Westwood, including a seven-month-old baby girl. – (8).

According to his daughter-in-law – Tippie Boteler, he had written: “all my slaves are kindly treated and seem contented and happy, but I have no doubt they would gladly be free. All have been more or less instructed and some read very well,” despite, Tippie Boteler added, the fact that it was considered illegal to teach literacy to those enslaved in Virginia. – (9).

Pendleton wrote, acknowledging the Thorntons, a family of enslaved workers, who worked a nearby farm and sometimes Pendleton’s and as well as the Boteler’s, had opted to find better opportunities in Liberia and ten of that family, left for Cape Palmas in 1855. (10) (11) (12).

With the federal army literally in his own back yard that spring in 1862, Pendleton, the family history goes and is supported, decided to offer freedom to those he enslaved.

The first man to opt for freedom at Westwood was 32-year old George Slow, who was born there in 1830 when it was part of another farm property. Two other men, one thirty-one and the other thirty-five-years-old in 1862, also joined the army with George. The oldest woman who was sixty-three chose to stay. – (13).

Captain Frank A. Donaldson later of the 118th Pennsylvania Corn Exchange Regiment, described his first meeting Slow while his army was moving towards Berryville from Charlestown in early March, 1862.

(Donaldson was born in Philadelphia, June 7, 1840. He was enrolled as a sergeant of the 71st Regiment, Pennsylvania Volunteers (Baker’s California Regiment), May 26, 1861, and was mustered into the service June 4, 1861. He was taken prisoner at Ball’s Bluff, October, 1861. His conspicuous gallantry in this engagement was rewarded by promotion to a second lieutenancy, May 1, 1862. He was severely wounded at Fair Oaks, May 30, 1862. Upon his recovery he was mustered out to accept the captaincy of Company H, 118th. He was honorably discharged, January 14, 1864.) – (14).

Donaldson who befriended George Slow for a lifetime wrote how their encounter happened:

Donaldson wrote his brother March 15th from Bolivar, describing the beauty and devastation of Harper’s Ferry, the homes in Charlestown and then his journey towards Berryville when he meets George Slow:

Dear Brother:

Here I am once again on old Virginia’s sacred soil. In the few lines written from Harper’s Ferry, I said I did not think much of the place. That was literally true as regards the town, but as to the beauty of the country, the magnificence of the surrounding landscape, there can be no question.

Harper’s Ferry is situated at the junction of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers, and is probably one of the most picturesquely located places in America. I can conceive of no more beautiful scene than just here. Then, too, it is full of memories of the stirring past, although desolation and ruin reign everywhere. There is scarcely anything besides a few standing walls, to remind one of the busy arsenal where so many muskets, now in the hands of the enemies, as well as its own troops were made by the Government. The Engine house where John Brown battled for abolition’s cause is still standing, but the citizens of the town itself have deserted it. The only place of business open are our own people and the only customer, too, are our own army. Everything wears an aspect of utter decay and destruction.

I left on Thursday morning and rode as far as Charlestown, a distance of nine miles, in the Sutler’s wagon, when finding he was not going further, I took up my journey on foot for Berryville, a distance of a trifle less than thirteen miles.

Charlestown is a pretty place, with numberless frame cottages, painted white, with green Venetian shutters. I did not have time to go all over the place, but a number of historical places were pointed out to me, notably the Court house where old John Brown was tried, and the jail where he was kept prisoner.

Nothing of note happened on the journey excepting the meeting with a mounted officer who had kept me company until near Berryville. He said he was a Major of a Rhode Island regiment, and asked so many questions about myself and the probable number of troops at Harper’s Ferry, that I became suspicious, in fact alarmed, and told him a pretty lively tale about the latter place. While conversing with him I could not understand why if he was journeying from Harper’s Ferry he knew so little about the situation there. However, I feared to ask him the question, lest my suspicions proving correct, I might again be taken prisoner. He was a very gentlemanly man, and was dressed in our uniform, that is so much of it as I could see. He had a glazed forage cap, and a long dark blue, almost black, circular, or officer’s cavalry overcoat, and was armed with holster pistols and one also attached to his waist belt, but carried no sword. He was about 40 years of age and wore his beard cut close all around his face. Just before reaching Berryville, he stopped at a private roadside house, where a female evidently a lady came out, and while pumping water for him, conversed in a tone of voice inaudible to me, at least. I stood aside while they talked together and was satisfied that they knew each other quite well. Here he left me after cordially shaking my hand. He said he had enjoyed my company very much which had helped him to pass way many tedious hours of lonely traveling.

All along the good solid turnpike to Berryville (Route 340 in 2014.-JS) there were evidences of the passing of large bodies of troops, there being scarcely a fence rail left in the whole distance, and the sad havoc made with the woods, where an encampment had taken place and was most marked. I saw no soldiers during this tramp. The farmers appeared to have been at work and the country as far back as I could see, was well cultivated and full of fine-looking wheat; at least, to my unpracticed eye, it looked remarkably good and heavy.

They Meet George Slow.

As we moved away from the vicinity of Charlestown, we saw a number of Negroes leaning on a fence surrounding a neat little house on what appeared to be a large plantation. Captain Urie spoke to one of them and asked whether he would like to join the army. Replying that he would, the Captain told him to come along, and he and two or three others did so.

In conversation with him I learned his name to be George Slow, and that he was or had been, a slave, but, his master (Pendleton), knowing that he could not keep his slaves, had given him his freedom, and he (George) would like me to go back and corroborate what he said. He had been a house servant and nicely brought up. We like him very much and he is a first-rate cook and very handy generally.

Slow continued with the army, acting first as a servant to Captain Urie; but when Urie took sick, Slow in May, 1862 transferred to the service of Donaldson with whom he stayed through many battles, starting May 30th at Fair Oaks – outside of Richmond – where Donaldson was wounded and George Slow relentlessly stayed by his side or brought help, saving Donaldson’s life. – (15).

Major References for/from video:

Magazine of the Jefferson County Historical Society. Volume LXXV December 2011. “Jefferson County to Liberia: Emigrants, Emancipators, and Facilitators.” by Jane Ailes and Marie Tyler-McGraw p. 52.

In Jefferson County Museum – Charles Town, WV:

Aglionby, Charles. “The Day Book Kept By Charles Aglionby at Mount Pleasant, Charles Town, Jefferson County, Virginia.” 6 March, 1861 to 1 January, 1866.” – Transcribed by Francis John Aglionby (1932-2002). With permission from Julia Aglionby.

Also in the Jefferson County Museum:

The Farm Diary of John and Anne Hooff

Dandridge Account Books

Serena K. Dandridge undated letter, Dandridge Collection, Duke University.

The Letter of Frank Donaldson. A Young Northern Soldier’s Journey thru Jeff. in March 1862 – The Boteler Collection – Courtesy Ms. Leslie Keller.

James, Anne Hooff Farm Journals, Wednesday, March 12, 1862. Perry Collection, Charles Town Library.

Eby, Cecil D., Jr. (Ed. and Intro.). (1961). “A Virginia Yankee in the Civil War. The Diaries of David Hunter Strother.” Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press. Print. p. 10.

Frye, Dennis E. (1984). “2nd Virginia Infantry.” Lynchburg, Va.: H. E. Howard, Inc. Print.

Elizabeth Stockton Pendleton. “A Wartime Tragedy,” Shepherdstown Register, March 8, 1934.
and “A Wartime Tragedy,” The Shepherdstown Register, September 25, 1924.

Survivors’ Association, 118th (Corn Exchange) Reg’t. P. V. (1888). “History of the Corn Exchange Regiment, 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers, from their first engagement at Antietam to Appomattox. To which is added a record of its organization and a complete roster. Fully illustrated with maps, portraits, and over one hundred illustrations.” J. L. Smith in Philadelphia, PA: J. L. Smith Publishers. Print. p. 642.

The Richmond Enquirer correspondent in Winchester reporting the number of enslaved driven from Harper’s Ferry after its capture by Confederates. – September 23, 1862.

1860 Slave Schedules, Jefferson County, Virginia, United States Census.

Jefferson County Death Records show the death December 6, 1858 of enslaved person, Mary Frances Thornton and reported by her owner, Hugh N. Pendleton.

Confederate Service Records – National Archives and Records Administration (NARA).

Image Credits:

A sutler’s store, Harper’s Ferry, Virginia [soldiers of Gen. Geary’s Div. making purchases] – Frank Leslie’s November 29, 1862, p. 1

Title: Harper’s Ferry, photographed immediately after its evacuation by the rebels. 1861
Other Title: Harper’s Ferry, W. Va., view of town; railroad bridge in ruins. Creator(s): Bostwick, C. O., photographer

By Thomas Waterman Wood
A Bit of History: The Contraband; The Recruit; The Veteran
Market Woman
A Southern cornfield

By Eastman Johnson
A Ride for Liberty c. 1862;
Union Soldiers Accepting a Drink c. 1865
Winnowing Grain

Mathew B. Brady – Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University [1]
Text from below the photo: “Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by Barnard & Gibson, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Columbia.” “Contrabands at Headquarters of General Lafayette,” black-and-white photograph on carte de visite mount, by the American photographer Mathew Brady.

West Virginia University –
Online Photographs from the
West Virginia Regional History Collection

  • by Biscoe, Thomas and Walter;
    Harper’s Ferry from Bolivar Heights
    Bolivar Heights and Gap of Harper’s Ferry, W. Va
    Picturesque Group of Houses
    Charles Town, Near View Looking Northeast
    View from Fairview House
    View of Road Back to Middletown
    Charles Town, Old Virginia,
    From Pike 3/4 of a Mile South of Town

Maryland Heights by Alfred Waud, Harpers Weekly Novemeber 22, 1862
Mural of John Brown in Kansas Statehouse

Daguerrotype of John Brown 1846 by Augustus Washington

NEXT: Chapterettes 12-13. Click Here

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 14 November 14, 1862 – Henry K. Douglas Writes Tippie . . . Longingly by Jim Surkamp

471 words



Friday, November 14, 1862 – Cold and Imprisoned, Henry Kyd Douglas persists in writing Tippie Boteler though she was having her head turned by Dudley Digges Pendleton, the Rockbridge artilleryman and family friend.

My Dear Miss Tippie –
You won’t. I will: which means if you are so extremely formal that you cannot write to me because you have seen me since I have written, you need not think you are thus to get rid of me. But I am in too good humor to quarrel or even to scold, and even now when I am disposed to write you a good humored and lengthy letter. Mr. Adams has sent thru special messengers to say that he is about to start immediately and can’t wait etc. So you must imagine these few lines to be “limited sweetness, long drawn out” and answer as I would have written. For it is just this moment I have returned from Winchester where I was summoned to Court (Martial not civil, I assure you). Yesterday I bid goodbye to Lieutenant General Jackson (for a while at least) and assumed command of Co. B. I hope if I remain here long enough, to regain some of the discipline and efficiency which used to characterize it. But I hardly hope to succeed as the material is far from being what it was when it just went into service. I must confess that it was with regret that I left the Genl. especially as he expressed an unwillingness to relieve me and was exceedingly cordial in his expression of good will at parting. But I thought it was my duty, under the circumstances, to take command of the company for a time, at least so expressed myself to the general and took my departure. So much briefly. I saw your Pa before he went to Richmond and thought he looked badly. I would express my sorrow with you in the recent bereavement of your sisters and family, but am not used to such things and have always had an idea that such remarks of condolence were generally ill-suited to allay or satisfy grief and consequently misplaced. But Mr. Adams is becoming impatient and won’t wait. Remember me to your Ma and family and please write soon and at length. Goodbye. Yrs., as always, Henry Kyd Douglas. I did not notice this until I had finished my letter. It will be sufficient excuse to say that it is the autograph of Lieut. General Stonewall Jackson, as it really is. HKD – (1).

After the Antietam Battle that September, and the month-long sojourn for both armies, the Federal army finally recrossed in large numbers into Virginia and wended its way south until the next great, tragic battle – Fredericksburg – took place, but with a new Federal commander, Ambrose Burnside.

References/Image Credits:

Chapterette 14: November 14, 1862 – Henry Kyd Douglas Writes Tippie Boteler . . Longingly.

1. Henry Kyd Douglas Papers, Duke University.

NEXT: Chapterette 15. Click Here

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 15 Dec., 1862 – Dudley Digges Pendleton Is In Fredericksburg Fight by Jim Surkamp.

1325 words

Chapterette 15 – Thursday, December 11 – Monday, December 15, 1862 – Dudley Digges Pendleton, Tippie’s Future Husband, Vividly “Paints” the Battle of Fredericksburg, Va. including His Own Heroic Act.


It has been said that the soldier never sees a battle, but many of us both men and officers, saw that battle while participating in it. Many who repelled the fierce and wonderfully determined attacks on Marye’s Hill, and those who occupied that day the corresponding hill across the ravine, through which passed the country road into the town, had impressed upon their memories a scene not often equaled for its terrible grandeur. Nor did any other battle of the war offer such a scene; for Gettysburg and the fierce conflicts around Richmond, from the nature of the ground, gave a much less comprehensive view to any observer, no matter what his position.

I happened that day to have charge of a big gun, cast in Richmond, which was placed in an earthwork on the hill above spoken of, to the right of Marye’s Hill, facing the town. Before the plans of the enemy developed, this gun was employed in firing at the innumerable wagon trains, and any batteries that were within its range on the opposite side of the river. We soon drew upon ourselves a very heavy fire, many of the opposing guns being beyond our range. These guns would throw rifled shells far beyond us into the woods as well as many immediately around us. After the battle began it was evident to the Federals that Marye’s Hill must be taken. So masses of troops were concentrated under cover of a prodigious discharge of artillery upon the batteries on Marye’s Hill and upon the gun in this fortification, and the attack was made under this protective fire. This Hill was often a point of observation for General Lee and other officers, giving as it did, a full view of the opposing army in its efforts to cross. The earthwork in which this gun was placed was so faced as to enfilade the railroad cut leading into the town and across which the enemy’s infantry had to pass in the charge upon Marye’s Hill. Between the cut and the heights was a plane nearly level until nearing the height when it became quite steep.

As soon as the first advance of the troops occurred, and they descended the steep side of the deep cut, we brought the big gun to bear upon the trench, filled as it was with men struggling into it on one side and up in the direction of Marye’s Hill on the other side. It was not a difficult thing to get a range that would play havoc with this mass of men. The only hindrance was the tremendous fire which the gun drew upon itself from the opposite side. Smoke at every discharge obstructed the view for a time, but by stepping aside partly behind the fortification, I could avoid this and follow the huge shell in its flight.

Things strangely dissimilar may resemble each other, and this fearfully destructive shell, as my eyes followed it, remind me of nothing so much as the rapid disappearance of a dove when its line of flight is directly away from the observer. The dark object could be followed until it reached the mass of toiling soldiers, when, if it burst, it seemed to empty the cut of men, and if it did not, a long red lane was to be seen as it passed through. Sometimes I fancied I saw parts of human bodies rising as the explosion occurred and then dropping back to the earth. The scene of the explosion of the mine under our lines at Petersburg served to convince me that this was indeed a reality and not a fancy. Odd conceits sometimes possess us.

The long cut, the moving mass, the lanes mowed through it, reminded me of wanton dealing death to hosts of ants as they constantly advance, unchecked by the ever-increasing pile of dead comrades. Our gun became so hot that we were forced to cool it frequently, but after doing service, which was proved good by our own observation, it burst. I had stepped aside to observe the effect of the discharge, when, instead of seeing the dove-like messenger of death pass from it, as before, the entire forepart of the gun, in front of the trunnion, went whirling over and over, down the hill in front of us. Small portions flew to each side, and the entire rear took the back track for the woods, following the Union shells. Strange to say, no one was hurt. As soon as possible we brought “Long Tom” into position. This gun had been used in forcing observation balloons to shift their position or come down somewhat further up the river than Marye’s Hill. There it had caused some very precipitate descents but now it was needed for surer work.

Among the generals who occupied the hill for observation was General Barksdale, whose brigade occupied the line in front of this earthwork, and to its right down the river. After the enemy despaired of forcing their way across the river here and determined upon the move to Chancellorsville, we had a lull in the storm of shot and shell. I used it to examine the effect of the grand charges upon Marye’s Hill. Not an inch of the surface of the bricks on the front of the house exposed to this fire was free from the work of a minie ball. Bushels of flattened ones were to be seen on the ground, while the woodwork was torn to pieces by them, independently of the destruction wrought by the cannon.

The level between the house and railroad cut was covered with the dead and dying. The pieces of wood used between the powder and ball in cannon were as thick here as I ever saw them during the war, except at a point between the lines at Spotsylvania Court House, where the breastworks of the two lines had been run very close together and each gun seemed discharging its contents into the throat of another, which in one instance, actually occurred. We sent this ball back to the enemy, with our compliments, but they had ruined a Napoleon gun for us. General Barksdale’s troops held the line until the advance on Chancellorsville. He was upon the hill at the time that Sedgwick’s troops came in sight. It happened that he had no attendant, all his staff being temporarily absent with orders.

I said to him: “General those troops are yankees.” He said: “Oh, no! It is impossible!” Presently, recognizing the uniforms, he exclaimed: “My God! who will save my regiments down there?” The ground below this hill was impassable for a horse, owing to brush, high-cut stumps and bushes, while it was difficult for anyone not light and active to get over it. Not wondering at this question I told him that I would go and warn the men. Of my war experience, that run over such rough ground and back again was the most severe. The regiments fell back in time to hinder the advance, but were not sufficient to hold the enemy. Therefore other troops on their way to Chancellorsville had to be recalled. My horse had fortunately not broken away from where it was tied and I was sent after some of these troops. I passed two or three brigades whose commanders refused to return unless other orders brought them. Next, I reached General Gordon, who immediately reversed his column, on hearing of the passage of these troops asking only that General Early be informed of the necessity of the case. But for his promptness in taking in the situation though he had no orders from the commanding General, I have always believed that the enemy would not have been driven back and the Confederate success at Chancellorsville very materially lessened. – (1).

References/Image Credits:

Chapterette 15: Thursday, December 11 – Monday, December 15, 1862 – Dudley Digges Pendleton, Tippie’s Future Husband, Vividly “Paints” the Battle of Fredericksburg, Va. including His Own Heroic Act.

1. The Boteler Collection – courtesy Ms. Leslie Keller.

NEXT: Chapter 16. Click Here

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 16 December, 1862-June, 1863 – The Calm Between Storms by Jim Surkamp.

2535 words

Charles Aglionby Keeps Farming Amid War

Charles Yates Aglionby

December, 1862-June, 1863 – The Daily Struggle at the Charles Aglionby Farm, “Mt. Pleasant” in Jefferson County.

In the early part of 1863 the Federal troops picketed the area and horses were stolen from the farms from time-to-time, but there was little local military activity until June. Then Confederate forces moved northwards. On the 14th the Federals evacuated Charles Town. Charles Aglionby watched Confederate forces advancing, A. P. Hill’s “corps d’armee” along the Shepherdstown road on the 23rd and Heth’s division next day. Many soldiers called in for milk and food. On the 30th, a little before noon there was a report “between a cannon and thunder.” It was caused by the Federals blowing up the magazines at Harper’s Ferry before evacuating it. These troops movements preceded the Battle of Gettysburg which was fought 1-3 July. On the 4th of July, Charles went to Harper’s Ferry which “looks truly like a deserted village.”

Wednesday, December 24, 1862

The day has been cloudy & chilly, the wind blowing mostly from the south. A little rain fell at intervals but not enough to intercept business. Frank, Howard and Davy and I were engaged before noon in opening the drain from the road. In the afternoon they hauled a load of the old refuse hay into the rack. Zacary was tending Ralf by hauling flagstones & dirt assisted by John. I beat some sandstone to throw over the pavement. Johnny was mostly with Will Downey and went home with him. R. Bowler was here. He split the large stone that was at the horse rack and dined. I settled with him for cleaning and deepening the woods pool.

There was but one soldier seen to pass here today. The Federals are said to be on the railroad towards Duffields laying the telegraph wires. Nothing more from the war.

Thursday, December 25, 1862 – Christmas

Not all times clear but quite pleasant. Pretty much holiday with all hands. Fare better than common and a greater variety. I went to Halltown and took Mrs. Creamer’s on the way. Mr. Dixon’s dinner was ready and after taking a little of his blackberry wine sat down to a very nice dinner, but as I had promised Mrs. A. to be home to her dinner I had to reserve some space. Our dinner was dinner and supper in one. The report of soldiers is that the Federals were at Duffields’ and went thence to Charlestown behind our farm. They did not remain long in town. There was right smart firing in different directions seemingly by citizens as well as soldiers. Credit cash by amount paid servants Sarah and two boys $4.00, Letty $2.00.

Friday, December 26, 1862

A little cloudy and mild throughout the day. John and I started to Mrs. M. Moore’s to dinner by invitation. After we were there a while Mrs. A. came with Mrs. H. Moore. John Moore, Jno. C. Wiltshire and Smith S. Crane were there also and after a while. Mr. G. D. Moore came. Frank rode down to his aunt Janet’s. Ralf, Will and some of the boys took the wagon with some wheat and flour casks. Rumors of Federals being about Winchester and other places. The day quiet.

Wednesday, December 31, 1862

The last day of the year 1862 has passed and the last night is passing off. May peace dawn on the coming year and each section do for itself what they could not do together, i.e. live in peace.

Saturday, January 3, 1863

Was quite a pretty day. The hands shucking corn. I went to Mrs. Striders and dined at Sml. S. Moore’s. Mr. Allen called in the morning and we settled our accounts. Mrs. Aglionby, Frank and Ralf went to Harper’s Ferry marketing. They called by Mama’s and Mrs. Dougherty’s. They succeeded in getting some goods and brought back some goods with them in the rock-away and the cart.

Monday, January 5, 1863

A pleasant winter day. The hands hauled the corn they shucked last week, also some fodder.

Wednesday, January 7, 1863

Cold and blustery. We commenced threshing.

Thursday, January 8, 1863

58 Yankee cavalry passed by. The morning was red. It soon clouded up and a little before noon it commenced snowing.

Saturday, January 10, 1863

Last night was very clear and starry above. Now about eight stars are shining above. We covered up our wheat in the pen and in the stack. The boys hauled a couple of loads of straw, shucked some corn in the barn. In the afternoon they cleaned one of the stables.

Wednesday, January 21, 1863

A real winter day, rain, hail and snow. The chimneys were burnt. Some corn run through the fan. Corn house over shilling room leveled so as to hold more corn. The stables cleaned and racks filled with straw and chaff. My hands and wrists pretty sore from shucking corn.

Saturday, January 31, 1863

A mild and pleasant day. I went to a shoemaker’s and was halted at the crossroads going towards Flowing Springs by a Dutch (German) cavalryman. He wanted to know who I was, where I was going and did I know a Mr. Leavell. Giving him answers he told me I might go. He had his revolver drawn. Mr. Sampson put a patch on my boots.

Saturday, February 14, 1863

The day raw and cloudy. I went over to Duffield’s after I had opened the trench around the west side of the corn house. Mrs. Aglionby returned from Baltimore in the train. Her trunk and some things were brought home in the cart.

Sunday, February 22, 1863

Sunday being the anniversary of the birth of Washington is also the Lord’s Day.

Snowy all day and best part of the day. The snow is about ten inches deep and cold and dry. We all stayed home today and read and improved ourselves according to our various tastes and sense of duty. After reading the Lessons etc. for the day I read the memoirs of Mrs. Anne Page by Dr. Charles Andrews.

Wednesday, March 4, 1863

This day two years ago Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated President of the United States. What a change has come over the face of this once happy country. How altered are the households and relations of every man in the country. What an expenditure of blood and treasure. For how long will it continue? The Lord save us from man. Make an end of this bloodshed and carnage. Forgive us if we have abused our privileges. Restore the land once more to peace and let us once more travel in the road leading to prosperity and happiness. Let the hatchet be buried, the sword turned into plowshare. Let the lion lay down with the lamb and let everyone lay down under his own vine and fig tree and no one to make him afraid or ashamed.

Thursday, March 5, 1863

It has been a very pretty day. The wagon and boys hauled four loads of fodder. Ralf at posts. John went to mill after dinner. Ralf and John hauled some straw and chaff. I stayed at home, fixed some physic for rats in the corn house, fixed the upper door under the shed in the spilling department and raked up when the hands were loading.

Wednesday, March 25, 1863

Last night much rain – heavy shower before breakfast. It cleared off handsomely. The hands went into the woods with their axes. In the evening, John went to the mill and the two other boys filled the racks. Ralf, the Madam and I trimmed the grape vines.

Tuesday, April 7, 1863

Last night, Mrs. Aglionby and I had a very anxious night about our little daughter – early in the morning we sent Frank off for the doctor. He and the Dr. came to a second breakfast. Doctor Mason seemed alarmed at her symptoms and cupped and blistered her immediately and left medicines to take until tomorrow morning. Her disease is bronchitis.

Wednesday, April 8, 1863

. . .The Dr. came to breakfast and found Nettie much better. . .

Thursday, April 9, 1863

This turned out to be a very pretty day. The hands hauled manure. Ralf mended the garden fence. I rode out to dinner with Col. Yates and called by my mother’s and sister Beall’s. Saw the town garrisoned with Union soldiers.

Saturday, April 11, 1863

The weather pleasant. The hands sowed clover seed in the forenoon, in the afternoon some manure from before the stable doors, and filled the racks. Mrs. Aglionby had her gang in the garden. I helped her to spin. She sowed some peas.

Tuesday, April 14, 1863

This has been a pretty day. We went on with plowing, spreading manure, etc. I walked out into the fields this morning and evening and inspected matters.

Friday, April 17, 1863

A little cloudy all day – the sun sometimes shining. We performed a little operation on the young colt this morning to give vent to his water.

Saturday, April 25, 1863

A very pretty, windy, clear, and drying day. The hands with myself pulled down the stake and cap fence on the upper side of the shop orchard and put up a plank fence in place of it. After dinner Ralf and I finished it and the others took a load of rails down to the low field and repaired the fence. Not much war news.

Sunday, May 24, 1863 (After the last enslaved person left Mt. Pleasant)

The boys (sons Frank and John) and their mother milked the cows and we all made ourselves generally useful.

Sunday, June 7, 1863

Today I blacked my shoes, a thing I had not done I know not when. Alas many who have been reared in the lap of luxury have done the same since this war began whether in the camp or domicile. – (1).

Sunday, June 21, 1863 – Henrietta B. Lee writes her daughter Ida Rust of the absence of enslaved persons and resulting, daily struggles in Shepherdstown: – (2).

My precious Child
It is the blessed Sabbath day, and I feel that I am not violating it in writing to you and expressing my joy and gratitude at the safe return of your dear dear – Father – O my heart indeed is full to overflowing “surely goodness and mercy have flowed to me all the days of my life.” I cannot dare utter that You did not come too. I was sadly disappointed and I write now to urge that you will get A’s (Ida’s husband, Armistead Rust) consent to come here and spend the rest of the summer. You can hear from A. just as easily from here as where you now are – and I know his heart is too great to refuse your mother’s so reasonable a request – beside for the sake of the future affection which is to exist between you and his children you ought to see them this summer before they forget you altogether. Children soon forget and I do not want your influence weakened, or a spark of their affection lost towards you. Come then my child to your house and your Mother’s heart. There is perfect safety here now.

Gen. Lee’s headquarters are in Winchester. Eight thousand of our troops passed through Shepherdstown on Thursday last and are with many other encamped opposite the Lawn in Maryland, there is no fear that you will encounter the wild beasts that have so lately infested these counties or that you will be where you cannot write or hear from your husband.

Your Papa thinks of sending Edmund with a nice covered wagon to Lexington, so you & Sue (daughter-in-law), and V.(niece Virginia Rust Bedinger) must come back in it.

This will be your best and least expensive plan. The house is full of soldiers of all ranks and grades – from the rank of General to the most humble private. I greet all as brother, and am willing to share every mouthful with them.

Your dear little babe’s likeness I hugged and kissed, but I am so sorry he has been baptized – I did so want to have it done here. I am going to Maryland tomorrow, and will finish out your list. I have long ago gotten everything you wrote for the shoes I will get tomorrow. These steel pens are so horrid I cannot bear to write with them. I wish I never had seen one. G. Robinson was here yesterday and took off the baby’s likening to show to Annie. Annie has a lovely little boy – and my little God daughter Nannie is the most lovely engaging thing I ever saw. I want you to be here while she’s in Town. A friend wrote to you but the yankees got the letters. Lila talks of you every day. Fred has just come to Sunday School. Sends his love and begs if you are ever coming you will come now. I am so sorry V. is not here as George (George Bedinger, Virginia’s brother) is and looks so well & happy. Tell her everyone of Mrs. Robinson’s servants have left her. Rosa has been cooking and last week I spent the evening there and the hot rolls R. had made was an elegant as any I ever saw.

There are no servants to be had – nearly all have gone off. I have been on the street for a washer every week since Old Kit decamped. Last week Milly Edward washed for me and if this old sow which is grunting around here, had whirled them about with her snout in a mud puddle, they would have looked as well. I hope you will bring your servant, and she can wash for you for it is dreadful that when things are as high as they are now they should be ruined in washing.

If I were only sure you would return with Edmund I would not send you things on because you would have them made up here so much cheaper. I am afraid I cannot send the bonnet lest it should be injured. When I was in Frederick I got Netta a most beautiful photograph album, and meant to have had my picture taken on cards and sent each of you one. I can have it done tomorrow. Netta has got that photograph taken of you and A. I think. Your precious father has just come in and read me his letter to you all, he has given you all the army news – Only to think of his having to sleep on the damp ground all night bless his dear heart – it is well I did not know it, I should have started in pursuit. All the Town seems mad with joy at the return of our soldiers.

We have been so long under yankee rule, It was perfectly dreadful for a while and if your men had not come, I do believe the Negroes would have made an effort to have changed places with us. I wrote a disguised letter to you last week, giving you an account of how Margie Boteler (daughter of Alexander Boteler’s brother, Charles) was insulted did you get it? When we would get a letter we would not dare to tell we had one or talk about it, for fear of being sent over the lines. I shall write to Sue tomorrow. God bless you my darling, send a kiss to dear A. for me, and tell him he must not “say me nay”. Kiss both the dear children for me, Netta, and N. Strider are surrounded with beaus, they do not know I am writing. Ever – Your Mother Henrietta Bedinger Lee. – (3).

References/Image Credits

Chapterette 16: December, 1862-April, 1863 in Jefferson County – The Calm Between Storms.

1. “The Day Book Kept By Charles Aglionby at Mount Pleasant, Charles Town, Jefferson County, Virginia.” 6 March, 1861 to 1 January, 1866.” – Jefferson County Museum, Charles Town, Wv.

2. Levin, p. 2.

3. Henrietta Bedinger Lee, Goldsborough Collection, Shepherd University Library.

Next: Chapter 17. Click Here

“Thy Will Be Done” (17) – July 3, 1863 – George Bedinger Falls at Gettysburg

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Gay, brilliant Bedinger, whose presence imparted an electric touch to those around him; I shall ne ‘er see his like again! – (1).

George Bedinger, now a Captain, had recently written his sister Virginia “Diddie” Bedinger after the Battle of Chancellorsville that took the life of Stonewall Jackson:

In line of Battle near Chancellorsville
Monday May 14th 1863

My dear Virginia,

Yesterday we fought the most terrible battle of this war, attacking the enemy in his chosen position and driving him at every point, our Brigade behaved magnificently but lost very heavily. Our brave General’s remains will reach Lexington before this gets to you. Today we are in line and throwing up breast works, whether we will attack or the enemy retreat further, I cannot say. I’m pretty certain of more fighting. Thank God I am spared to write you this note, tho’ half of my little company were killed or wounded. Uncle George is safe, so is John Boldoin, both send love to you. Mr. Pendleton [Gen. H. N. Pendleton or Alexander Pendleton] and Henry Douglas [Henry Kyd Douglas] are well.
I do not know how I am to send this to you.

Your devoted brother
GR Bedinger
Love to all – (2).

By then Captain George Bedinger had won over his Irishmen in Company E – The Emerald Guard from the Shenandoah Valley – in the 33rd Virginia Infantry with his strong, active and graceful natural bravery. Wrote one:

In camp and on the march, (he) was always gay and cheerful, and though reared in ease and affluence, made himself and his comrades merry amid their privations and discomforts. During the long artillery duel in which his battery was engaged at Kernstown, he was always in the right place, and in spite of the dangers to which he was exposed and of which he was fully conscious, could not resist the temptation to be merry and to provoke merriment in others, at his own and his companions’ occasional impulses to dodge the noisiest shells with which the enemy were making the day hideous. – (3).

Bedinger’s unit was then folded into the Second Corps after Jacksons’s death and Lee’s army stealthily moved northward to re-invade Maryland and Pennsylvania, crossing June 16, 1863 below Shepherdstown, then, to Chambersburg until an order came for the 2nd Corps to join the battle shaping up around Gettysburg.

They did little until an order came sending for Bedinger’s men at 3 AM on the morning of the 3rd. The regiment marched off with the rest of the brigade towards the enemy position atop Culp’s Hill. After daybreak, the regiment advanced in line of battle towards the enemy who was “strongly entrenched in a most advantageous position.”

There and then is where the unbreakable Bedinger broke, leading his fearless men far ahead of all others – toward the mouth of the federal cannon. Then George Bedinger was dead, a state so “unlike” the confident captain.

The regiment would keep trying to advance up the slopes of the hill, “in intervals” as their men took cover behind rocks and trees. Although the regiment exhausted its ammunition within an hour or two, at least part of the 33rd remained engaged for almost five hours, as partial supplies were received upon the field. – (4).

When the losses were known, Captain J. B. Golladay, wrote in his official report:

It would be invidious to speak of the bearing of particular officers and men when all manifested such remarkable coolness and intrepidity during the sanguinary conflict. The loss of Captains [G. C.] Eastham and [George R.] Bedinger is felt and mourned (the first falling to rise no more on the evening of the 2d instant, and the latter on the morning of the 3d instant, perhaps farther in advance of the line of battle than any other officer or man), as well as a list of non-commissioned officers and privates, who certainly composed part of the flower of the regiment. – (5).

Bedinger’s cousin, Edwin Gray Lee, penned the obituary that appeared in several of Virginia’s newspapers in the following week:
We regret to learn that among those killed in the recent battle near Gettysburg, on the 3rd day of July, was Capt. Geo. R. Bedinger, of the 33d Va. Infantry. He was a son of the late Hon. Henry Bedinger (U. S. Minister to Denmark under Mr. Pierce) and though quite a young man, he had won for himself a most enviable reputation for unusual gallantry and skill. He entered the service as a private, earned his promotion upon fifteen battlefields, and at last has fallen where brave men love to die, leading his men up to the cannon’s mouth. He was slain in Ed Johnson’s charge upon the entrenchments. – (6).

After the reports filtered back with the armies to Shepherdstown and Virginia “Diddie” Bedinger learned of her beloved brother’s death, restraint was called for. There was an occupation federal army in town with martial powers. Bedinger’s body was not recovered or returned.

Henry Kyd Douglas did not return from Gettysburg either, but he was not dead. Riding about near Culp’s Hill on his horse “Ashby,” and not heeding calls for him to take cover, a sharpshooter in the woods fired, drilling a ragged wound in his left shoulder. Douglas was still in Gettysburg, imprisoned and hospitalized. He eventually was taken to a prison for Confederate officers in Lake Erie, called Johnson’s Island. – (7).

Early in the morning of July 16, a federal officer came to Poplar Grove, the home of Diddie and Mrs. Carrie Bedinger, Diddie and George’s step-mother, and asked Mrs. Bedinger to lend him a book. He told her that it was hot in his tent and that he had nothing with which to wile away the tedium. Carrie led him into the sitting room and showed him the bookcase. He scanned the shelves, then selected Walter Scott’s “Lay of the Last Minstrel.” Carrie was sure he would never see the book again.

Around noon, firing was heard from the direction of Kearneysville, where Union troops were attacked by Confederate cavalry under Brigadier Fitzhugh Lee and Colonel John R. Chambliss. The Union men were driven back toward Shepherdstown. . . . The federals placed their guns on a low hill on the Poplar Grove property and an artillery duel began. Just at dusk a Union orderly rode up to the Grove with a book in his hand. It was Scott’s “Lay of the Last Minstrel.” The orderly thanked Carrie Bedinger. The officer had been wounded and was in an ambulance elsewhere. – (8).

References/Image Credits:

Chapterette 17: George Bedinger on a Gettysburg Hill; Henry Kyd Douglas Falls.

1. Moore, p. 136.

2. The Dandridge and Boteler collections – Duke University.

3. The University Memorial: Biographical Sketches of Alumni of the University of Virginia who Fell in the Confederate War. pp. 477-478.

4. Casler, pp. 180-181.

5. Golladay, p. 530.

6. Obituary in The Lynchburg Virginian, July 21, 1863; Levin, p. 66.

7. Douglas, p. 250.

8. Levin, p. 67.

NEXT: Chapterette 18.

 “Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 18 Tippie Recalls the Fight Near Fountain Rock in July, 1863. by Jim Surkamp.

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It was in July, 1863, a time of so much interest to all Virginians, when the tide of battle ebbed and flowed like an angry flood over our lovely Valley leaving desolation and sorrow in its path. Our home, known as Fountain Rock, was about one mile from the Potomac river, directly on the turnpike between Shepherdstown and Kearneysville, a point on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad.

July 16 was an unusually quiet day. No Federal soldiers were to be seen riding over the country. Consequently our fears were aroused knowing, as we did from experience that a calm always came before a storm. The next morning we found that our fears were not groundless, for a large force under General Gregg had crossed the Potomac and some were encamped on the turnpike and some on the road leading to Martinsburg.


Stragglers, mostly from Col. Gregg’s regiment, began to swarm all over the place. Numerous and outrageous were the depredations they committed. Hearing a thumping at the back of the house, we went in and found two men in the pantry. “What are you doing here?” said my mother, with dignity. One of them impudently answered: “Oh, we just came to see what sort of style you lived in.” and added mockingly, “I’ll take that ham, if you please.” Turning around, she found he had already done so. He then reached over and said: “I’ll take these preserves too.” “No,” she said, “I don’t think you will.” He said: “I’d like to know who in the hell will prevent me?” “I will,” she said, very quietly and leaning forward, she put out her hand and gave a little push, which sent the preserves to the floor with a crash. He looked startled for a moment, but quickly recovered and sneered: “Oh, that’s your style is it?” “Yes, and you walk out of the house. It is a pity you had no mother to teach you not to break into houses and steal.” The reference to his mother seemed to rouse him and he said: “ I have a mother, and as good a one as you, if you are a right good-looking woman.” Nevertheless, he walked very meekly off.


So great were the ravages committed that my young sister and cousin from Baltimore went into town to ask for a guard. When the complaint was laid before General (David) Gregg, he turned to an officer and said, “Tell Colonel (John) Gregg that I have nothing but complaints of his regiment this morning, and if needs be, he must take one-half-his men to keep the other half in order.” I doubt if the order was ever delivered, for while he was speaking a courier came in and reported “a large body of rebels advancing on the turnpike from Leetown.”

The girls now anxious to be at home, asked for an escort, for the soldiers had been very impertinent to them on their way into town. An escort was readily granted, and although our house was near the outposts, he came all the way to the door and there received my mother’s thanks for his courtesy. She also asked him his name, which at first he refused to give, but upon her reminding him that he knew what a day might bring forth, he gave Major Gaston of General Gregg’s staff. None but those who have seen and felt it can realize our feelings as we saw the enemy advance in such order and numbers, knowing as we did that only a few miles further on they were to meet our forces, among whom were many friends near and dear. Soon a few stray shots were heard, then the drumbeat and all stragglers were drawn in and quiet reigned for a little while. Then came the whir and shriek of the shells as they passed over the house, and the villainous little “zip:” of minie balls as they cut leaves from the hedge around the door. All of us retreated to the cellar. The family consisted of my mother, her two daughters, her niece, her two little grandchildren, whose mother was in Baltimore, a negro woman, and a terror-stricken dog.


All that evening the battle raged. The Federal wounded were brought from the field and laid upon the lawn before and under the protection of the of the house until they could be taken away, some few in ambulances, others on horses or on stretchers. I shall never forget the sight of a white horse, his whole fore-quarter stained with the life-blood of whom who was lying dead across his back. The firing never ceased until late in the night. Our house was kept closed and perfectly dark. The troops had no time to tarry and I heard them, as they passed to-and-fro from the spring, wonder where the women of the house were. All night we waited in the darkness, each with a candle, a few matches, and a piece of chocolate in our pockets. These had been kept for a time of need, and we thought that time had come. It was truly a night of horrors. By two or three o’clock all the Federals had gone and we heard the smooth canter of the Southern horseman take the place of the sharp ring of the steel shod horses of the Northern cavalry. Daylight found me with a pale face and hollow, but a hearty welcome for the Confederates, who rode into say that they would be back to breakfast. Our friends from town, alarmed for our safety , came almost as soon. Seeing a soldier and being anxious to know who of our friends had come, my young sister asked him to what regiment he belonged, to the great amusement of all around, for it proved to be General Fitzhugh Lee himself. Among the first questions asked was, who was in command of the forces opposed to us. When General Lee was told that it was General Gregg, he instantly said: “I wonder if he knew I was in command on this side?” and I gathered that they had been either classmates or friends before the war.

Oh, the contrast between two days divided by one single night! The day before terror and gloom prevailed and today the house filled with joy and gladness. We had little or nothing to give them to eat, all having been taken from us the day before and the garden trampled by the troops.

While rations that had been sent from the camp were being prepared, we gathered around the piano to entertain our guests with music and to deliver to General J.E.B. Stuart some music that had been in our keeping for several months, sent to him by an admiring friend in Baltimore. “Soldier Boy Nineteen Years Old,” “Benny Havens, Oh” were sung with a hearty good will. Impromptu verses to the latter air were composed by nearly all present. General Stuart’s contribution, written on the back of a piece of music was the following:


To the bonnie lass, Miss Lottie,
Our adoration’s due;
She soothes our hearts in times of woe,
With music soft and true.
May she rule her beau of nineteen,
The gallant Brigadier,
Who, though he vanquish men, I ween,
Her own command must fear.

To our jolly friend, Fitz Lee,
A health before we go.
He has a heart all full of glee,
A strong one for the foe.
May his triumphs long continue,
And Miss Lottie always know
The number of his regiment
And smiles on him bestow.

Later in the day a Baltimore American newspaper was gotten hold of by some means and the portico rang with merriment as the account of the battle from a Federal point of view was read out, and its inaccuracy wondered at and commented on. I heard General Lee say: “Well, I have not been in a hotter place since the war began than that fight was at one time yesterday.”

It was indeed a hard-fought fight, though it had had but small mention in the “Annals of the War.” it was here that Colonel Drake of the First Virginia Cavalry (formerly Stuart’s) was killed. When we congratulated Colonel Morgan on his promotion, he said feelingly: “Not yet! Not yet! Too late have I paid my last tribute to poor Drake.”

But this was no abiding place for either army. When the Federals were driven across the river, the Confederates retired beyond the railroad and so it was with us until peace settled down over the whole land and the war became as it now is, a thing of memory only. – (1).

References/Image Credits:

Chapterette 18: Tippie Boteler Recalls The Fight Near Fountain Rock in July, 1863; Kyd Douglas’ Letters to Tippie Don’t Take Hold.

1. Shepherdstown Register February 1, 1934.

2. Henry Kyd Douglas Papers, Duke University.

NEXT: Chapterette 19.

“Thy Will Be Done” – Chapter 20 April, 1864 – U.S. Colored Troops Stop at The Lees’ Home by Jim Surkamp.

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Chapterette 20 – April 5, 1864 – The United States Colored Troops’ Company G of the 19th Regiment Knocks on Henrietta Bedinger Lee’s Door at Bedford, then Overnights in Charlestown.

April 5, 1864 – From a diary of a Shepherdstown resident, who lived there at the time:
Something new! Three hundred black soldiers came to town and some are quartered in the Jim Lane Towner storeroom and they are in the command of Colonel Perkins. Others with white skin and black hearts took Dan Rentch’s parlor for headquarters. These negroes were hailed with much joy by some of our loyal citizens and some five or six negro soldiers were invited to breakfast with her by Mrs. C__ (A leading Unionist family in town were the Colberts.-JS)

April 7, 1864 – The diarist continues: The black yankees left hurriedly for Harper’s Ferry, for the river was up and they could not get back into Maryland, and rebels were reported to be coming.

April 9, 1864 – The diarist continues: Twenty-six negro soldiers and a white officer came to town and quartered in Mohler’s store (Possibly “Moulder’s” Store at southwest corner of German and King Streets. – JS)

April 12, 1864 – Diarist continues: Twenty-four black yankees and a white officer passed through, going to Martinsburg.

Then twenty-year-old Netta Lee was living at Bedford outside Shepherdstown at that time with her mother Henrietta, her younger brother, Harry, and enslaved African-Americans: a worker named Nace; father and daughter, Tom and Keziah Beall; Peggy Washington and her three grand-sons – Thompson, William and George, and her grand-daughter Virginia, also called “Jinny.” Edmund Lee, Sr., Netta’s father, was away; son/brother Edwin Grey was in the Confederate army and Edmund, another brother, had enlisted the year before in 1863 when he became old enough to serve.

The United States Colored Troops organization was created by presidential order in May, 1863. In letters of Henrietta Lee and Tippie Boteler, they write that most able-bodied, enslaved African Americans left the County for good as of May, 1863, posing challenges in household upkeep and crop production for them. – (1).

Netta Lee wrote:

The months sped by and we were in the second (should be: “third”-JS) year of this terrible war. All of our men, including Edmund, the next to the youngest brother, had gone to join the army, leaving Harry, a boy of about thirteen, as our protector, and seized every opportunity to come home, or as near home as possible when our troops were in the Valley. Mother and I were seated on the portico one bright morning, playing a game of chess. So intent were we upon our play that not one word had been spoken, save an occasional monosyllable: “Check!” when Harry came running up the gravel walk toward us. The boy’s eyes seemed black with indignation, his face flushed with anger.

“What is it, Harry?” we both exclaimed in a breath. “What has happened – another battle? Tell us quickly!”

“. . . The white yankees, who were quartered here at the river to picket the town have been removed, and Heaven knows they were bad enough, but now a negro regiment has replaced them and will be here tonight!”

Our Mother’s face grew pale. She arose and placed her hands on Harry’s and my shoulders as we stood beside her, saying: “Through Captain Cole’s reign, our Father in Heaven has guarded us, my children: I do not believe the negroes can be worse than Captain Cole’s men were. . .”

(Netta to Harry): “A regiment of them, did you say, Harry?” I asked. “Yes, And we hear they are going to draft all the able-bodied men under forty-five years.”

“Have they white or negro officers?”
“Oh, white officers, all of them. And what is worse, I hear they are going to camp out of town in this lot of ours next to the meadow.”
“Oh, that is too outrageous,” exclaimed Mother.

Just at this moment was seen approaching from one of the servant’s cottages, a stately elderly negro woman with a tall white turban on her gray head and a red kerchief crossed over her chest. She was walking briskly and talking to herself.

“There comes Aunt Peggy (Washington),” I said. “Mother, she must have heard the bad news.”

“Yes,” continued Harry, ”for George was in town with me.”

Peggy Washington said: “Lord Miss Netta, is that so about the soldiers coming to this town and drafting everybody they can?”

Netta: “Yes, Peggy. Harry says they really are to be here tonight. I was just going to send for you and tell you to fix up something to eat for the boys, Bill, Thompson and George, and send them out to the farm (Oak Hill on the Kearneysville Pike) before sun up tomorrow morning. They must stay there all day tomorrow. Be sure they start very early.”

Peggy: “Yes, that’s so. I’ll get them off in time. The nasty trash. They aren’t going to get my grandsons, all the children I’ve got left, and make them fight against the ones they they played with all their lives.”

Netta: “Well, you see, Peggy, we don’t know what these new men will do; but the boys will be safe at Oak Hill.”

Peggy: “Yes, that’s so. I’ll get them off in time.”

Henrietta: They must hide during the day and return home at night for food; and none of them must go to town tonight,” said Mother.

“No m’am! They won’t want to go to town tonight!”

Netta Lee wrote:
Sure enough, it was well. Peggy got her boys off early to Oak Hill for the report was true and next day negro troops encamped in our fields; and Harry called to me: “Just come and see how they are shooting down all the hogs in sight.” And Mother added: “I am glad I made the boys lock up all the sheep, which are quieter animals than these hogs, though, no doubt they will soon follow, except (they will) love hog meat better than anything unless it is chickens.”

. . . (As he looked through a field-glass, his mother asked Harry): “What are they doing now, Harry?” “A squad of them seems to be coming this way.”

Mother hastily turned to the door, saying: “Come, let us go in. I don’t want them to see us looking at them.”

We went into the library, where I busied myself buckling the belt of my little six-shooter around my waist, taking care that its bright silver mounting could be seen. On a table near her was Mother’s larger one, similarly mounted. She was just about to lay her hands upon it when Jinny, her old Granny’s (Peggy Washington) favorite, came bursting into the room . . .

“Oh Mistiss, Granny says come down in the kitchen quick, please ma’am. Those soldiers are down there.”

Hastily Mother placed her pistol in her pocket, keeping her hand upon it. Then all of us started to the basement kitchen. There we found a party of six or seven stalwart negro soldiers insolent and swaggering. None however were actually inside the door; but two were on the threshold and swearing at Peggy, who had thus far kept them at bay with a large butcher knife and her tongue – the latter weapon being the sharper of the two. She was arguing manfully with them, saying: “I’m not afraid of yankees!”

“What does all this mean?” asked Mother, who met the two of them as they succeeded in pushing past Peggy, starting to come up the basement stairs. “What are you here for; who sent you?” asked Mother.

“We were sent here for your three young colored men,” the man replied. “We’re gathering up recruits.” (NOTE: William, Thompson and George were all draftable age in their late teens. – JS)

Peggy broke in with: “I told them, Miss Netta, that there weren’t any men here. Then they told me they were going to search my room and the house and see if I didn’t hide them.”

“Well,” said mother, “. . . and tell your officers there are only young boys. Go now, and don’t dare to come to this house and try to steal our young servants.”

“We’re only doing what we’ve been sent and ordered to do. We have to obey orders or get shot,” replied the spokesman.

“Yes,” said mother, “We heard before you came here that one of your officers shot a man for refusing to black his boots. Is that true?”

“Yes, ma’m, he did that very thing. ’Twas our Captain.” (NOTE: An in-depth review of service records shows no accidental death of men in Rickard’s company G, the company in Shepherdstown. In letters and speeches after the war, Rickard conveyed an attitude of an abolitionist on a mission when speaking of his role as a USCT officer. One might see this account as Netta Lee and Henrietta B. Lee projecting their perception of a cruel slaveholder in Virginia on the persona of a USCT officer.-JS)

“Well, now you obey my orders and go to your officers and tell them what I have told you: “There are no men here; and also tell them that Southern women know how to shoot as well as their men do. Go!” said Mother. (Netta wrote): I was not slow to let them see the hilt of my pistol, and Mother kept her hand on hers. Harry, too kept around, with his military belt and Confederate buckle, showing that he also might be carrying arms, as he was, for in that belt was hidden a sharp, two-edged dagger.

Only for a short time were the negro soldiers encamped near Bedford; they seemed to have been sent here to gather up negro recruits, and having accomplished their purpose, were soon replaced by a company of white men under the command of Captain Teeters.

George, Thompson, and Bill had kept well out of sight of the negro soldiers and Harry had kept his chickens in close confinement, too, up to the day of their departure. So the day the negroes marched across the Potomac, Harry came in saying: “Mother, I think I may as well let all those fowl out.” Those two game roosters have fought every day since I penned them in the chicken house and have nearly killed each other. Bill and I have named them Abe and Jeff.

“Well,” said Mother, “put one of them in the cellar and tell Peggy she can kill him tomorrow.” “All right!” says Harry, “I will imprison Abe. – (2).

There are records suggesting two of Peggy Washington’s three grandsons did, indeed, wind up in uniform with the U.S. Colored Troops.

Service records indicate enlistments into the U.S. Colored Troops by two men with the names of 56-year old (1864) Peggy Washington’s grandsons, both enlistees also born in Jefferson County. It should be noted that the Lees refer to enlistment men in their households as “boys,” creating a wrong impression of their age.

There is a record of a Jefferson County-born African American named William H. Washington, who was born in 1834 in Jefferson County, and who enlisted in 1864 in the 32nd USCT Infantry at Chambersburg, PA. He was at least the same generation of the Lee’s butler named “Bill.”

Service Records also show a Jefferson County-born African-American named George Washington, enlisting September 12, 1864 at Harper’s Ferry into the 37th U.S. Colored Troops in Company K. He deserted October 1, 1864.

There are no service records by the name of Ms. Washington’s third grandson, Thompson, but a 35-year old African-American by that name appears in the 1870 Census in the adjacent Loudoun County, Va. – (3).

Robert Summers, curator and webmaster for website gives details of men who were with Co. G of the 19th USCT at the time of the visit to the County in April, 1864.

Summers gives a brief biography of their white commander:

25-year-old James H. Rickard, from Woonsocket, Rhode Island, joined the 18th Connecticut Volunteers on August 7, 1862, fought at Winchester, Virginia on June 13-14-15, 1863, received an appointment as Captain in the 19th Regiment, U.S. Colored Troops on March 12, 1864, and joined the regiment at Camp Birney, Baltimore, Maryland, on March 31, 1864. He was discharged from the Union Army by reason of physical disability (malaria) on March 26, 1866. After the Civil War, Rickard lived in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, working as a merchant. Captain Rickard died on May 5, 1914 and is buried in Union Cemetery, North Smithfield, Rhode Island.

Summers provides the text of an 1894 lecture by Captain Rickard before the Rhode Island Soldiers and Sailors Historical Society.

. . . at least 186,097 black soldiers, mostly ex-slaves, fought for the United States government, and that 36,847 of this number (nearly twenty percent) were either killed or died in United States hospitals. That they took part in 449 engagements, and for soldierly bearing and heroism challenged comparison with their more fortunate white comrades.

Soon after joining my regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Perkins, in command, obtained permission to take the regiment up the Shenandoah Valley recruiting. Arrived at Harper’s Ferry, with much difficulty we obtained a four-mule baggage wagon and started up the Valley for Winchester.

Col. Perkins was a peculiar individual, and seemed bent on making some kind of a demonstration with his regiment of colored men. When about halfway from Berryville to Winchester our advance guard were fired upon, and returned the fire; for a moment some confusion prevailed, as it was expected we were intercepted by a rebel force. After forming a line to the left of the road in a rocky piece of woods, an officer was sent forward to ascertain the cause of the firing. It was found that a company of our scouts, dressed in gray, had opened fire on our men to see how they would stand. Our men then returned the fire and did not flinch. One colored man was struck on the forehead by a minie ball, and a piece of his skull as large as a silver half dollar knocked out, but it did not knock him down. He was assisted by his comrades, and when the wagon came up he was put in, and when after several days we returned, he was sent to the hospital, and came back healed, and did good service afterward. Our expedition continued to Winchester, where the Colonel intended to pass the night, but having served in this valley previously and knowing the danger of remaining there, I prevailed upon him to move on to Bunker Hill, where we might be within supporting distance from Martinsburg should we be attacked; and I had information that a superior mounted force of the enemy were present.

Rickard provides the larger context in which Company G came to Shepherdstown:

On the way to Bunker Hill that night we met about eight hundred of our cavalry passing up the valley from Martinsburg; they were attacked the next morning and entirely routed, proving the wisdom of my insisting that we move on and not stop over night there with our small force of less than 750 men, untrained and untried.

From Martinsburg we passed over into Maryland to Shepherdstown and back to Harper’s Ferry. I was then ordered to proceed with my company to Charlestown with three days rations, and “recruit vigorously.” My men had only five rounds of ammunition. I asked for 40 and was refused. I went under protest, as I knew that with less than one hundred colored men, ten miles away from any assistance, with only five rounds of ammunition, it was a foolhardy adventure, as Mosby with his guerrillas was scouring that country continually, and there were probably more Confederate soldiers in Charlestown at that time, well-armed, than my company numbered. It was a cold stormy night, about the first of April, when I arrived there. I quartered my men in a church, situated on the south of a square, the country to the south of the church being open toward a knoll where John Brown was hung. After seeing that the men were comfortably cared for, I found quarters near by in a cottage. The woman, whose husband was in the rebel army, was violently loyal to the Confederate cause. After much bantering and my offer to pay, I got a good supper, and a feather bed on the floor in front of a good fire. I was very anxious, and placed four or five pickets out and a sentinel in front of my door, with orders to report to me immediately any noise like the tramp of cavalry.

I was just getting into a doze, between one and two o’clock. The sentinel knocked on the door and said, “I hear cavalry.” Having removed only my sword and boots, I was outside in an instant. I could hear the heavy tramp of a large force of horsemen apparently entering the place from the northwest. I had the men quietly aroused, and knapsacks packed without lights, and held a hasty consultation with my lieutenant (Raymore) and decided that “discretion was the better part of valor.” It was raining and intensely dark. I moved down the macadamized pike towards Harper’s Ferry, where if attacked I might be within reach of assistance if necessary. We continued our march about four miles, when we reached a cavalry vidette, thrown out from Harper’s Ferry. I ascertained from him that a force of cavalry of our own troops had gone up the valley on a reconnoitering expedition, and on account of the muddy condition of the roads had gone up the road to the north, and entered the place from the northwest. Knowing now that there were troops between me and the enemy I was relieved of my anxiety, retraced my steps, and went back to the same quarters and slept soundly. – (4).

According to Summers’ research, these are some of the men who were active in Co. G. of the 19th U.S. Colored Troop in April, 1865, at the time the company participated in recruiting in Jefferson County and in Shepherdstown:

Alexander, James
39-year-old James Alexander enlisted in Frederick, Maryland on December 31, 1863. Older men were prized for their maturity, and Alexander was immediately promoted to 1st Sergeant of Company G. He served with the regiment throughout the war, and afterwards in Texas. He was mustered out with the rest of the regiment on January 15, 1867 in Brownsville, Texas.

Banks, Jenkins
30-year-old Jenkins Banks enlisted in Dorcester, Maryland on January 6, 1864, and mustered into the 19th Regiment on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private Banks was taken sick on June 11, 1865 while the regiment was en route to Texas after the war, and taken to the New Orleans quarantine hospital. After recuperating, he joined the regiment in Texas. Unfortunately, Banks contracted dysentery while in Texas, and died of that disease on September 7, 1865 at Galveston, Texas. Other records show the date of death as July 22, 1865. Private Banks was originally buried in Galveston, Texas, but his remains were later transferred to the Alexandria National Cemetery in Pineville, Louisiana.

Bond, John
30-year-old John Bond enlisted on January 7, 1864 in St. Mary’s County, Maryland, and mustered into 19th USCT on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. In the early spring of 1864 Private Bond served as part of a Union Army recruiting party that recruited slaves from the farms and plantations He died of pneumonia five months later, on August 21, 1864, at the City Point, Virginia, Army Hospital. The hospital failed to report Bond’s death to the regiment, which carried him as sick for the balance of the war, and as a deserter after the war. Finally, in 1883, when processing his widow’s pension application, the Army discovered and corrected its mistake, removed the charge of desertion, and corrected Bond’s records to show that he had died in the line of duty.

Briscoe, James
18-year-old James Briscoe was a slave of Edward Wilkens of Kent County, Maryland when he enlisted on January 1, 1864. He mustered into the 19th Regiment USCT on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Wilkens was awarded $300 compensation for James Briscoe’s enlistment. Private Briscoe served with his regiment throughout the war, and afterwards in Texas. He died in the Post Hospital at Brownsville, Texas on July 31, 1865 of chronic diarrhea. He was buried in National Cemetery at Fort Brown in Brownsville, Texas. In 1911, National Cemetery was closed and his remains were moved to Alexandria National Cemetery in Pineville, Louisiana.

Butler, John
23-year-old John F. Butler enlisted on January 7, 1864 in St. Mary’s County, Maryland, and mustered into the 19th Regiment USCT on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Corporal Butler was wounded by a minie ball at Petersburg, Virginia on September 30, 1864 and sent to the Summit House Army General Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where he died of erysipelas on March 20, 1865. Mr. Butler was survived by his wife Sylvia Butler.

Chambers, Samuel
20-year-old Samuel Chambers enlisted in Queen Anne’s County, Maryland on January 2, 1864, and mustered into the 19th Regiment on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private Chambers died of pneumonia on August 1, 1864 at the Army hospital in City Point, Virginia.

Cooper, Lewis
30-year-old Lewis Cooper, a married man, enlisted in Cecil County, Maryland on January 2, 1864 and mustered into the 19th Regiment on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private Cooper fell ill and was sent to the L’Ouverture Army Hospital in Alexandria, Virginia on October 14, 1864. He died there on November 30, 1864. The cause of death was listed as Ascites. He was buried at Alexandria’s Freedmen’s Cemetery, but subsequently interred at Soldiers Cemetery, now known as Alexandria National Cemetery.

Demby, Emery
26-year-old Emery Demby was married to Sarah M. Demby when he enlisted on January 6, 1864 in Talbot County, Maryland. He mustered into 19th USCT on January 10, 1864. Demby was with the regiment throughout the war, and in Texas afterwards. He died of cholera on November 20, 1866 in Brownsville, Texas.

Hackett, Thomas
23-year-old Thomas Hackett enlisted on January 7, 1864 in Dorcester County, Maryland, and mustered into the 19th Regiment, U.S. Colored Troops on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private Hackett served with the regiment throughout the war, and afterwards in Texas. He became ill while in Texas and died of bone fever at the Post Hospital in Brownsville, Texas on August 10, 1865. He was buried in National Cemetery at Fort Brown in Brownsville, Texas. In 1911, National Cemetery was closed and his remains were moved to Alexandria National Cemetery in Pineville, Louisiana.

King, Thomas
18-year-old Thomas King was a slave of Henry King in Somerset County, Maryland when he enlisted there on January 6, 1864. He mustered into the 19th Regiment USCT on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private King fell ill with inflammation of the lungs and was sent to L’Ouverture Army Hospital in Alexandria, Virginia on April 26, 1864. He was released from the hospital on June 6, 1864 and returned to his regiment outside Petersburg, Virginia. Private King was killed in action at the battle of Cemetery Hill near Petersburg on July 30, 1864.

Kinnard, Charles
24-year-old Charles Kinnard enlisted on January 7, 1864 in Dorchester County, Maryland. He mustered into the 19th Regiment, U.S. Colored Troops on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Private Kinnard served with the regiment for the rest of the war, and went with the regiment to Texas after the war. He fell sick on February 25, 1865 and died in the Army hospital in Brownsville, Texas on November 12, 1865 from chronic diarrhea.

Lindsey, Stephen
21-year-old Stephen Lindsey enlisted on January 2, 1864 in Kent County, Maryland, and mustered into the 19th Regiment USCT on January 10, 1864. Private Lindsey was killed in action at the battle of Cemetery Hill outside Petersburg, Virginia on July 30, 1864.

Matthews, Judson
Matthews enlisted on January 5, 1864 and mustered into the 19th Regiment, U.S. Colored Troops as a Sergeant on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. While the regiment was stationed in Texas, Sergeant Matthews was sick most of the time in the post hospital at Brownsville, Texas, suffering from pains in his stomach, legs, feet, and head. The common diagnosis for this illness at the time was bone fever. He was still sick when he mustered out of the Army on January 15, 1867 at Brownsville.

Murray, Henry
30-year-old Henry Murray enlisted on January 1, 1864 in Kent, Maryland, and mustered into the 19th USCT on January 10, 1864 at Camp Stanton, Benedict, Maryland. Murray was judged to have valuable leadership skills, as he was soon promoted to Corporal. Corporal Murray died during the regiment’s march to the battlefield at Petersburg, Virginia.

Captain Rickard wrote his widow:

To all whom it may concern

Camp in the field near Petersburg VA
June 19, 1864


I have to announce to you the sad intelligence that your husband “Henry Murray,” a Corporal in my Company died this morning. He has not been well for some time & yesterday he accidentally fell into a small stream which we crossed on a march. He was brought along in an ambulance & died this morning. He was a good & faithful soldier. I regret his loss & sympathize with you in your bereavement.

Respectfully Yours,

J.H. Rickard
Capt., 19th U.S.C. Troops
Comd’g Co. G

It should also be noted that thirty-year-old free African-American William Spellman in Charlestown enlisted in the 19th USCT regiment in Frederick, MD, May 24th that same year, fought at the “Mine” and Petersburg and mustered out January 15, 1867 in Brownsville, Texas. – (5).

Overall, Service Records indicate that as many as 158 African-American men who were born within Jefferson County served in the United States Army with a rank of private up to major, which was the rank of Martin R. Delany, who was personally recommended by President Abraham Lincoln for appointment and promotion to major following an interview at the White House in early February, 1865.

Two other enlisting African—Americans from Jefferson County who may have also worked for the Botelers and or Pendletons were William Bunkins who enlisted July 13, 1864 into the 23rd USCT Infantry Regiment when he was about 24-years-old, and Randolph Thornton, who enlisted into the 3rd USCT Infantry Regiment on July 3rd, 1863, when he was twenty-three-years old.

William, who served as a hospital steward at Camp Casey in Virginia throughout the war and lived in Jefferson County in 1880, is a likely relation to a Wilson or Nelson Bunkins, who was born in 1841 and was the husband of Margaret Bunkins, a servant, along with their daughter Fanny, for the Botelers on the fateful day in July, 1864 when Fountain Rock burned.

Randolph Thornton, who mustered out in Jacksonville, Florida in 1865 and was living with his family in Charlestown in 1880, may have been a relation to the only African-American Thornton family in the County in the 1850s, a large enslaved family that worked for both the Pendletons and the Botelers, and some of whom emigrated to Liberia in 1855. – (6).

Referencecs/Image Credits;

Chapterette 20: The United States Colored Troops’ Company G of the 19th Regiment Knocks on Henrietta Bedinger Lee’s Door at Bedford.

1. Jefferson County Historical Society Magazine, Volume LXII. December 1996.
Fragments of a Diary of Shepherdstown – Events During the War 1861-5.

2. Netta Lee Diary, pp. 8-11.

3. Service Records, United States Colored Troops. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA).

4. Robert Summers – Curator/Webmaster for

5. Ibid.

6. Service Records of the United States Colored Troops.

NEXT: Chapterette 21.