The Valley Campaigns - Chapters IX-XII



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CHAPTER IX 
THE SOUTHERN WOMAN. THE DOMESTIC LIFE OF OUR PEOPLE

   WHILE writing up these recollections of our men and boys I must not 
neglect to relate some of my observations on our Southern women, whose 
loyalty and devotion to the Southern cause knew no bounds. 

   In my section of Virginia, the larger number of the women had been 
brought up under the institution of slavery and knew little of the hard 
drudgery of domestic service. They had been taught to direct the 
management of the home and to do light needlework, but they relied almost 
entirely on the old negro women and young negro girls to do the heavy work 
about the kitchen and in the house. In nearly every large family there was 
an old negro "Mammie," as she was called, who took general charge of the 
domestic care of the house and managed the young negro girls employed 
about the home. 

   This old negro "Mammie" had usually nursed the children and looked 
after their clothes and comforts. The negro cook not only prepared the 
meals but usually milked the cows, attended to 

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the dairy and poultry and, as a rule, bossed the other negroes. Young 
negro women were trained to wait on the table, to clean the house and to 
do the heavy needlework required for the children and negro men on the 
farm. In some families these negro women carded the wool, ran the spinning-
wheel, knitted the socks and, not infrequently, worked the hand loom, for 
in those slave days few manufactured clothes were bought. They were made 
on the farm, largely by negro labor. Hence the negress was an important 
factor in the home life of the Southern woman. If of agreeable manners, 
she was much respected and beloved by the children on the place. 

   I knew a number of these female servants in the homes of our old 
families who were treated with almost as much consideration as the 
children of the family. 

   A relationship was established through this domestic service which 
brought the servant into close contact with the mistress and children of 
the home, - a contact that was mutually advantageous, and these servants 
were trained not only to work but often were taught lessons in reading and 
writing as well as religion and morals. When the war came almost all of 
these old family servants remained in their old homes, and were simply 
invaluable in the domestic service they were able to render. 

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   It soon became evident to our Virginia women, in my section at least, 
that the war meant destruction of slavery, and that they would soon be 
called upon to perform all the harder duties of the home. 

   It has always been a surprise to me to see how soon our women, - old 
and young, - were able to adjust themselves to new conditions. As the war 
progressed they were all fired with the same ideals of self-sacrifice that 
inspired the men in arms; beginning at once to assume duties and labors 
that had been considered menial before the war. They took to carding, 
spinning, knitting, and weaving; and they not only dyed the yarn and 
manufactured the cloth but cut and made wearing apparel for themselves and 
for the men and children. This was the rule; and the only exceptions were 
found in small families with liberal means or with those who lived in 
large communities where articles of clothing could be bought. 

   Many of our women and girls took a personal interest in the garden, in 
poultry and in the dairy, when the occasion required. I have seen small 
girls and boys milking the cows and feeding the poultry and small animals 
on the place - children whose parents had never dreamed of such a menial 
service. Yet in doing this the dignity and spirit of the child was not 
lowered. It was considered a privilege to make any sacrifice of 

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false pride when the condition of the times required it. 

   As the war continued these duties became necessary and entered into the 
life of all as the outcome of the social and political upheaval we were 
passing through. 

   Now, while our women were fast adjusting themselves to a more active 
and laborious domestic service, they were not neglectful of the 
refinements and culture of the home. They played on the piano, sang war 
songs, and read good literature, with as much interest as ever. The 
hospitality of the home was as abounding, - if not as lavish, - as it had 
been. We boys and girls of tender age had our social pleasures and our 
simple sports. When we did not have skates we coasted the hill on a plank 
board with as much fun as can be had from a modern sled. When we did not 
have good horses and comfortable saddles we rode barebacked or on a 
blanket on old nags retired from army service. We found as much pleasure 
in this simple life as our parents had experienced under the ease and 
indulgence of slavery before the war. 

   The saddest experience which came into our home life was the loss of 
some dear friend in the army, for the loss of property, with all its 
hardships, was accepted with a stoicism which was almost heroic. I could 
relate numerous incidents 

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to illustrate the self-sacrifices and hardships which came to many of our 
women, such as the death of husband, father, brother, and lover; but these 
were the fatalities of war which were accepted as loyal contributions to 
the cause of the South. These deaths were often pathetic, as where the 
only son of the widowed mother, the father of a family of small children, 
or the accepted lover of some noble girl, were killed in battle or died 
from disease or wounds in a hospital far from home. Few families in our 
community escaped these sorrows. They were a common heritage which all 
bore with bleeding hearts but with honest pride and loyal fortitude. 

   With what painful sorrow do I recall the experience of a family, 
related to me by ties of blood and early affections, which gave up the 
only son, the pride and hope of a widowed mother and three single sisters, 
and the accepted lover of a noble woman. He had been wounded in battle at 
Williamsburg, and after lingering some weeks, he had died in the home of a 
family in that place. While he was on his bed of illness his own home in 
Virginia was surrounded by Federal troops, a beautiful estate had been 
torn to pieces, and the greater portion of the live stock had been driven 
away. A younger sister lay ill with typhoid fever in the house at the same 
time, anxiously calling out in her delirium for her brother, whose 

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death was announced to his family a few hours before she passed away. In 
her last lucid moments she had seen grief pictured in the face of her aged 
mother and had cried out, "Oh, mother! brother is dead; I must join him." 
In a few hours her spirit had gone to join the noble fellow. 

   These two deaths, with all the surrounding circumstances, would have 
destroyed the hopes and the happiness of the strongest character; yet this 
widow and her two daughters bore their sorrow with a courage equal to that 
of the Spartan mother who preferred to have her son's body borne home on a 
shield rather than live in dishonor. These noble women, - mother, sisters 
and sweetheart, - now all gone to rest, came out of the war stripped of 
all their personal property, their lands in commons and all the farm 
buildings in ruins. During all these troubles their faithful old negro 
servants remained loyal to them and took care of them. I know of no family 
in our section that experienced so severely the hardships of war as did 
this family. I know of no instance in all my experience where the spirit 
of noble womanhood stood so high, walked so courageously, and bowed with 
so deep reverence before the throne of the Great King. 

   I am going to relate an incident that goes to show just what this 
family stood for, just what struggle it made, and just what spirit and 
human 

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character can endure when mind and heart are made resolute by misfortune. 

   In December, 1863, the oldest daughter of this family had by the aid of 
the negro servants prepared a large bundle of woolen and cotton yarn for 
the weaver. The yarn had been dyed in different colors for the making of 
linsey cloth. As the only loom that could weave this yarn was located in a 
section of the county some eight or nine miles distant, the problems 
arose, how to get the yarn to the weaver, and how to explain the manner of 
making it into cloth. The lady in question decided to make this trip in 
person on horseback, while I and a faithful negro woman were selected to 
accompany her; which we did, mounted on old horses, and between us we 
carried the yarn tied up in bundles. Our route lay across the river which 
had to be forded. 

   When we came to the river, we found it flush and its surface covered 
with floating ice. The morning was bitter cold, the road was rough and 
hard frozen, and the trip was one of unusual difficulty at that season of 
the year. My father accompanied us as far as the river. The lady and the 
negro woman were carried across the river in a small skiff while my father 
and I forded the stream, leading the horses. The water came well above the 
flanks of my horse and the floating ice cut keenly, but we got across 
without mishap. 

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The women then mounted their horses and we rode to the weaver's home, 
where the yarn was left. That night the two women stopped at the home of a 
relative of the lady while I rode some three miles further to the home of 
a relative, where I spent the night. When I was within sight of the house, 
the horse I was riding slipped and fell on the ice; but I got her on her 
feet and led her to the house. 

   The following morning when I started for home the poor animal was so 
lame that she could scarcely walk. I led her six miles back to my home 
that day, walking the distance until I came to the river which I forded on 
her back. I never think of this experience without recalling the hardship 
it imposed on my two female companions. They remained in the country until 
the weather moderated. I was young and tough and bore the trip much better 
than my poor mare that was some weeks in getting over her lameness. 

   This incident, as simple as it may be, tells the story of a refined, 
delicate and gentle woman, who before the war lived in baronial comfort, 
and had under the necessities of the war undertaken the work of making a 
trip into a wild section of the country that she might secure the weaving 
of material to make dresses for her family and servants. This is only one 
of a number of similar experiences. 

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   To write up this history of the war from my point of view, - to tell 
all that our old men, women and children went through, - would require an 
abler and clearer head than I possess. I have tried to bring out one 
fact - that our non-combatant population was fired with all the zeal and 
patriotism of the Southern heart, that it went into the cruel war and 
accepted the results, with the same motive and unselfish loyalty as 
inspired the men who fought the battles to the end, and who either gave up 
their lives or laid down their arms contending for principles they 
believed to be right. 

In duty's path they firmly trod, 
Obedient to their sacred trust; 
Believing in Almighty God, 
The cause they loved to them was just. 

   The severity and length of the war put an enormous strain on the 
endurance, loyalty and character of our non-combatant population; and the 
way in which this strain was met will ever be a credit to the heroic 
spirit and fortitude of our old men, our women, and our young children, - 
a proud legacy to their descendants in coming generations. My purpose in 
writing this story of the war is to preserve in historic form the records 
of those stirring times, so that those who follow my generation may have a 
picture of 

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events which actually occurred and may see in the lives of their ancestors 
those qualities of mind and heart that go to make character and righteous 
living the ideals of coming generations. I have already stated that the 
population of my county was almost entirely made up of pure English blood. 
The ancestors of our people came into Virginia during the Cromwellian 
period and settled in the Tydewater section of the State, gradually moving 
westward and taking up the lands in the Piedmont district along the 
eastern borders of the Blue Ridge, later going across the mountain into 
the beautiful and fertile Valley of the Shenandoah. The first settlers 
located in the Valley about 1640, and from that time on the region west of 
the Blue Ridge became the home of the best blood in the state. The first 
settlers brought with them the social customs and habits of the people 
east of the mountain, and gave to the settlement a character of high 
culture and refinement. Many of these families brought with them their 
negro servants and these negroes became the progenitors of the negroes of 
the Valley. 

   The institution of slavery introduced into the Valley counties 
represented the highest type of slavery; for the scanty settlement and the 
widely separated homes of the people during the Colonial period brought 
the master and servant into the closest relations of mutual service and 
helpful 

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dependence. In this way the old family servant became the intimate friend 
of the household, and was held in warm esteem by master, mistress, and all 
of the children. The descendants of these old negroes were handed down 
from generation to generation and made up the negro population of the 
Valley counties. 

   There was almost no buying and selling of negroes in my section. The 
traffic in human flesh was confined almost entirely to cases of necessity, 
where property interests required a division of estates or the necessary 
payment of debts. Through inheritance our negro population increased with 
the growth of the white population, and as family estates were divided by 
the death of parents the heirs came into the possession of the slaves 
willed to them. This heredity feature of slave ownership surrounded the 
negro with the strongest ties of friendship and affection, and gave him a 
position in the family that was often held in highest esteem by the 
servant and engendered a deep sense of responsibility in his owner. 

   While the negro slave was regarded as a servant and a dependent, his 
feelings and his rights were respected and he was treated with 
consideration and kindness. His services were made valuable to his owner 
in proportion to the care given to his health and training. He was used as 
a laborer in the house and in the field, and his 

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burdens were no heavier than those imposed upon the white laborer, nor 
sometimes even upon the children of his owner. In sickness and in old age 
the slave was kindly cared for. He was well clothed and fed and his 
surroundings were made to contribute to his happiness. If there were 
exceptions to this rule they were so uncommon as to be classed with the 
hardships not infrequently imposed upon children by unkind parents. 

   Until the John Brown Raid the negroes in my section of Virginia were 
contented and happy. They had expressed no desire for freedom, and when, 
during the war, the opportunity came to them to exercise this privilege, 
less than 20 per cent. took advantage of it. The loyalty and devotion of 
the negro to his owner during the war is the best proof of his contentment 
with his position as a slave. These facts should set at rest the tales of 
calumny heaped upon the slaveowners of the South by Northern fanatics. If 
there was a rational ground for the abolition of negro slavery, it was to 
be found in a higher sentiment than was used for his emancipation. Our 
people were not wedded to the institution of slavery. 

   Since the negro had come to the vast majority of our slaveowners by 
inheritance, these owners were no more responsible for this inheritance, 

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the possession of slaves, than for any other form of property. As a 
domestic institution slavery was regarded by many as of greater advantage 
to the negro than to the white race. To them it represented a civilizing 
influence, - an influence that was gradually raising an inferior race to a 
higher plane of useful service and that was preparing the race for the 
duties of a citizenship that would in time make him self-respecting and 
self-supporting when placed in competition with the laborer of other 
races. The people who owned the negro fully understood his spirit and 
nature and they saw no advantage to the race from a forced freedom from 
restraint and a sudden investment with rights he was not prepared to 
exercise. 

   It was such views as I have mentioned that led the slaveowner to resist 
the spirit of abolitionism that had swept over the North. It was no doubt 
this same spirit that led the Confederate Government to hold on to the 
institution until the end of the war. Neither the people of the North nor 
those of the South fully realized the full meaning and intent of this 
antislavery movement, and both sections were carried off of their feet by 
emotions that were kindled by passion, prejudice and self-interest. The 
true interests of the negro race were lost sight of in the contentions 
over a situation that neither section fully understood. 

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   It has taken fifty years of reconstruction to adjust this racial 
difficulty, and it is not yet settled in a way to satisfy the claims of 
both races. While slavery has been abolished in the sense of property 
interest, the negro is in all those personal characteristics which belong 
to an inferior race as much a slave to-day as he was before the Civil War. 
He still struggles in poverty and disease; he fills our almshouses, 
hospitals, and jails to a far greater degree than ever was known under 
slavery. It is true that a few of the race have risen to useful and 
deserving positions, have accumulated property, and have received 
educational training; but the vast majority, now crowding our towns and 
cities, are as degraded as any laboring class can become. Until the ideals 
of the race are based upon racial pride and a desire for racial purity and 
segregation from other races the negro will never arrive at a true status 
of his own racial value. He has characteristics and endowments that should 
make for his great uplift in the world's service and for his own 
happiness. He has energy of body, cheerfulness of spirit, and a philosophy 
of life which make for contentment and the highest social enjoyment; and 
when he has learned to live for himself and for his own blood, has 
abandoned the aspirations for a social and marital union with other races, 
and believes fully in the destiny of the pure negro blood he 

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will have won a victory for his race that may be the envy of many of the 
more favored races. 

   The happiness of the negro in slavery grew out of his innocence and 
want of worldly pride. He was satisfied with himself and with his 
surroundings so long as his appetites were gratified and he had the 
freedom of a buoyant life. He was willing to work and to do hard service; 
but he loved his music and his song, the frivolities and light joys of the 
cabin or of the farm. He was a true child of nature and lived close to 
nature's heart, with a love of the wild and picturesque, with a touch of 
that freshness of sympathy and feeling for the lower animal world around 
him; as shown by his love for the horse, the dog, and the small animals he 
often kept as pets. He often personified these dumb animals and held 
imaginary conversations with them. 

   At heart the negro slave, as I knew him, was seldom cruel. He loved to 
fish and to hunt but seldom was unmerciful. His true nature was 
benevolent, and responded to kindness with deep appreciation and loyal 
gratitude. For that reason he had the warmest attachment for his owner 
when treated with kindness, and this affection was shown in generous 
attentions to the infant or children of his master. 

   I can never forget the love and devotion of my father's servants to me 
as a child, and I want 

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to rescue the memories of these old negroes from the obloquies which are 
so often cast upon the race by people who have had little experience with 
the old negro slave. Many of the happiest days of my childhood were spent 
with our old family servants and I had quite as much affection for them as 
for some who were related by ties of blood. My experience is not an 
exceptional one. There are thousands of men and women in the South to-day 
who can verify every statement I have made, and who treasure the same kind 
recollections of the old family servant that I do. I would love to see a 
monument raised to the memory of these old negroes as high as the Eiffel 
Tower. 



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CHAPTER X 
THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN. UNDER FIRE

   ON May 21, 1862, the positions of the Confederate Army and the Federal 
in the Shenandoah Valley were as follows: 

   Stonewall Jackson, with his command, held an advanced position at New 
Market; Ewell, with his division, had advanced to Luray in the Page 
Valley. The combined forces under Jackson and Ewell numbered nearly 17,000 
men, - the largest force which Jackson had ever commanded. The forces 
under General Banks had been reduced to 10,000 men distributed as follows: 
At Strasburg, about 7,500 infantry, cavalry, and artillery; at Winchester, 
about 1,500 men; at Buckton Depot, half-way between Strasburg and Front 
Royal, two companies of infantry were stationed; at Front Royal Colonel 
Kenly was encamped with the First Maryland Federal Regiment, numbering 
about 1,000 men, and two guns; at Rectortown, 19 miles east of Front 
Royal, General Gary was encamped with 2,000 men. 

   The railroad from Washington to Strasburg had been put in service, and 
the Federal troops were stationed along the line to protect it. 

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Trains were in daily operation, and large military supplies and troops 
were carried between Washington and Strasburg. At Front Royal many 
thousands of dollars of military stores, consisting of arms, ammunition, 
clothes and provisions, were housed in the depot for distribution. 

   The Federal disposition of its troops had been arranged with a view to 
permanent possession of the territory then occupied by the Union forces; 
and no disturbance of this arrangement had seemingly been contemplated by 
the enemy, if we consider the results that followed within the next few 
weeks. The object of the Federal authorities seemed to have been to hold 
Jackson in the Valley, with as small a force as was possible, and thus 
prevent his union with General Lee in front of Richmond. A large number of 
men, under Banks, had been sent from the Valley to reinforce McClellan in 
his attack on Richmond. 

   The division under Shields, that had encamped in our village from the 
14th to the 16th of May, was at this time near Fredericksburg, on its way 
to the Peninsula. There seemed to be a total misunderstanding of Jackson's 
strength and purpose by the Federals, for their forces in the Valley were 
distributed over a wide territory and were located at vulnerable points. 
The forces at Front Royal were utterly insufficient to defend a flank 
movement by way of the Page Valley, and Banks' 

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position at Strasburg was exposed to attack from the rear. Banks was 
evidently acting under the assumption that Jackson would advance by the 
main Valley route, and he was prepared to defend his position in front, 
without considering his weakness from his left flank. It was not Jackson's 
policy to run up against great difficulties that could not be met without 
great sacrifices. In strategy he was bold and resourceful, and he had the 
faculty of doing the very things the enemy did not expect. Sending a small 
body of cavalry down the main Valley to produce the impression on Banks 
that the Confederates were advancing to assault him in front, Jackson 
broke camp at New Market and crossed the Massanutton mountain through the 
Luray Gap into the Page Valley. At Luray he joined his forces with those 
of Ewell and on May 22d, 1862, the combined forces moved north by the road 
to Front Royal, and that night his men went into camp at Bentonville, 10 
miles south of Front Royal. The next morning, - May 23d, - his men were 
pushed north, and early in the afternoon were posted for the attack upon 
Colonel Kenly at Front Royal. 

   The movements of Jackson had been so rapid and so carefully guarded 
that the Federal troops were taken by surprise when his men drove in their 
pickets and rushed upon the two companies on guard duty in the village. 
There was no time 

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to prepare for defense, and they hurriedly evacuated their camps and ran 
to join the main command on the hill, one mile north of the village, where 
Colonel Kenly, prepared for the assault, had drawn up his regiment in line 
of battle. 

   At this point my personal experience may be of interest. When firing 
upon the Federal pickets, posted on the two roads leading south from our 
village, began, I, with some half-dozen small boys, was taking a bath in 
the creek that winds east and north around the village. We were in a pool 
of water about one half-mile north, - near where the railroad bridge 
crosses the creek. As boys usually do, we were busy at the time building a 
stone dam across the creek to deepen the water in the pool. The first 
notice I had of the approaching fight was the sight of a man, whom we all 
knew well as a Union sympathizer, running at the top of his speed along a 
path that followed the bank of the stream. We called to him to know why he 
was running so fast. He gave no answer; but in a moment we heard the 
report of a musket in the distance and then more rapid firing. 

   Jumping out of the water, we hastily put on our clothes and struck out 
for the village. When we had reached the top of the railroad embankment we 
could see men running wildly through the fields and down the pike in the 
direction of the 

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main command on the hill. I recall a man running wildly through a field of 
wheat, as fast as he could go. He was dressed in a Zouave uniform, his 
bright red clothes, in contrast with the green wheat, making his presence 
all the more conspicuous. 

   We boys crossed from the railroad to the main street and, as my home 
was south of the village, my purpose was to get there as soon as possible, 
not realizing that our house was within the Con- federate lines. Running 
up the main street, I turned to the right, through a cross street that 
curved in a crescent to meet the street that ran in the direction of my 
home, and as I turned the curve I ran into the lines of the Federal 
troops, retreating down the street. About this time I heard the whistle of 
a bullet that passed by me and struck a house near me; so I turned on my 
heels and ran back to the main street, until I came to the house of a 
citizen whom I knew well, and there I found a refuge. 

   The Federals retreated down the street in great disorder, the 
Confederates following in equal disorder, firing their guns in the most 
irregular manner, and yelling and shouting like wild Indians. No one was 
hurt, and the disorder was more like a police riot than a fight between 
soldiers. As the Confederates passed the house where I was, a long, thin, 
and feeble-looking fellow, whom I had 

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known some months before as a sick man in the hospital, fell exhausted on 
the door-step in front of the house. He asked for a drink of water, which 
was given him. In a few minutes he jumped up, took his gun, and started to 
join his companions. He was a member of the First Maryland Confederate 
Regiment, which had been given the honor of leading the attack upon the 
First Maryland Federal Regiment, under Colonel Kenly. 

   After the troops had passed the house and we were once more within the 
Confederate lines, I ran as fast as my feet would carry me for my home. 
When I reached an open square I met a Confederate soldier on horseback, - 
a man I knew well. He recognized me and wanted to know what I was doing 
there, urging me to run home as fast as possible and tell my family to get 
in the cellar as the enemy would cannonade the village and woods around; 
then, without waiting for me, he turned his horse and rode as fast as he 
could to my home, to give the order himself. He was a gallant fellow and 
was killed in battle in 1863. As I started for my home I could hear the 
firing of artillery by both sides. Between the village and my home was an 
open space of some five hundred yards which had to be crossed. When I 
reached the last house, - which stood on the street with much open space 
around it and just 

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across the street opposite a large hospital building, now unoccupied, - 
the artillery firing became very alarming to me. The noise and explosion 
of shells could be distinctly heard, and I felt that each gunner was 
looking for me. I saw, sitting behind a large locust tree in front of the 
house, a Confederate soldier, who told me I had better join him, as the 
firing was directed at the hospital building and at a battery on a hill 
south, in a direct line with us. 

   I was so badly frightened that I was glad to accept the soldier's 
offer. In the house lived a widow with some five or six small children, - 
all crying in the greatest alarm. For over an hour, - and it seemed a 
week - I sat behind that tree believing in my childish fear that every 
shell was directed at the old house and tree. While in this state of alarm 
I saw one shell strike a near-by tree, a fragment of another shell wound a 
cow grazing in a meadow close to my home, and eight or ten shells fall in 
the yard surrounding my home. One large oak tree in front of our house was 
perforated by a shell that went entirely through it, and then exploded. 
This old tree still stands with the scar of war on its body. 

   After the artillery firing ceased I went home, to find my mother in the 
greatest alarm about me. The family had taken refuge in the cellar, and no 
one was hurt, though one Confederate soldier in 

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the yard had been wounded in the hand by a fragment of a shell. 

   During the cannonade three Confederate batteries were playing for over 
one hour on the Federal guns, which did very effective work; for Colonel 
Kenly put up a brave and stubborn fight, and only abandoned his position 
when outnumbered and outflanked. His men were closely pressed and, 
crossing the river, attempted to fire the bridge. The men under General 
Taylor, of the Louisiana Brigade, followed so near that they saved the 
bridge for the Confederates to cross on. The Federals retreated in good 
order until dusk, when they were overwhelmed by the cavalry and nearly all 
were captured. Colonel Kenly held his ground until his command was 
completely surrounded, when he was wounded and taken prisoner. 

   At the close of the fight our village was filled to overflowing with 
Confederate soldiers, while large bodies of them pushed on toward 
Winchester and others went into camp along the roadside, or wherever the 
night overtook them. They had marched strenuously and were jaded from hard 
work and the heat of the day. There were many hungry stragglers, separated 
from their commands by the fatigue of the march, who sought food at 
farmhouses and at homes in the village. 

   The return of the Confederates so cheered our 

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people that they opened their hearts and homes to the soldiers with joyful 
welcome and dispensed lavish hospitality. The victory won in the afternoon 
was believed to be but the forecast of greater success for the Southern 
cause, and many persons went so far as to hope that the war would end with 
the Valley Campaign that Jackson was now making. 

   At that early stage of the war our people had the greatest abundance of 
food supplies and many of the luxuries of peace. In my own home the 
smokehouse and pantry were filled with meat, flour, sugar, coffee, eggs, 
butter, and milk. We had Aunt Susan in the kitchen, with other women 
servants to assist her. These negroes went to work with as much energy and 
zeal as my mother to cook food for the soldiers as fast as the men came 
for it. 

   That afternoon and the following morning my mother estimated that she 
had fed over 300 men. 

   Our house was filled with Confederate officers, and there were, also, 
among our guests several distinguished citizens in public life, who 
followed the army as lookers-on. At the first evening meal after the 
Federals had been routed, these officers and gentlemen around our table 
were as bright and as happy in spirit as it was possible for men to be, 
predicting glorious results from the campaign. Indeed, one or two were so 
optimistic as to 

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predict that Jackson would be in Washington before the end of another 
week. They little knew the temper and determination of the Northern 
people, and the vast resources of the Federal Government. The mistakes of 
General Banks and of the Secretary of War at Washington were not properly 
interpreted. They were not regarded as mere incidents of war, - incidents 
that had only a temporary influence over the larger policies that the 
Federal Government had inaugurated. One of the greatest mistakes our 
people made was to overestimate the value of our success and to minimize 
the strength and tenacity of purpose of our enemy. 

   Jackson pushed on after the battle, trying to close in behind Banks at 
Strasburg, but Banks took warning, and during the night he fell back to 
Winchester. 

   On the 24th and 25th of May Jackson drove Banks out of Winchester and 
forced him to cross the Potomac. While Jackson was giving heavy blows to 
Banks, and was moving his army by rapid marches as far north as 
Martinsburg and Harper's Ferry, our village was the seat of great 
activity. The Confederates had captured large supplies in the depot, and 
the authorities made use of much of this material; still, the larger 
portion of the arms and ammunition was not removed into the interior as 
should have been done. There was neglect or inefficiency somewhere, and 
much of 

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these captured goods were lost to the Confederacy by a fire that took 
place a week later when the village again came into the possession of the 
enemy. 

   A small incident occurred at this time that may be worth relating, as 
it throws some light on the methods then in vogue in the Union army. The 
evening after the battle of which I have just told, an uncle of mine, an 
officer in one of the cavalry regiments, came to our home to see us. He 
and several of his companions, went into the village, and in the general 
excitement, - which was then prevalent, due to the capture of prisoners, 
army supplies, horses, and wagons that were brought in, - he saw a 
captured sutler's wagon and took charge of it. In examining the contents 
of the wagon he found a large trunk that he pitched out to one of his 
companions, not knowing its contents. Later, when the trunk was opened, it 
was found to contain 125 silver and gold-plated watches, many watch 
chains, and all kinds of cheap jewelry, kept for sale to the soldiers. The 
sutler had escaped. The sutler who followed the army often grew rich by 
the sale of food, dainties, and sundry articles to the men in the ranks. 
His profits were enormous, and his risks correspondingly great; for he had 
to credit the men until pay-day, and as many were killed or captured, he 
was seldom able to recover all the money due him. 

Page 122

   The morning after the battle the prisoners were marched into the 
village and placed under guard until they were removed into the interior. 
As they were all Maryland men, they had friends and relatives in the 
Southern army; in fact, in one instance, brothers on opposite sides met 
and exchanged greetings. Civil war has little respect for the ties of 
blood. In a fratricidal strife the animosities and passions of kindred are 
often fiercest. These Maryland men in the Federal army had encamped in our 
village and the surrounding country from May 14th to May 23d. They were an 
orderly and well-behaved set of men and had been kind to our people; 
therefore much sympathy was expressed for them in their defeat and 
capture, and many compliments were passed on their stubborn resistance and 
courage against great odds. For the Federals had put up a manly fight and 
only yielded when overcome by vastly superior numbers. Many of them were 
captured because they were too manly to make their escape. This was 
especially true of Colonel Kenly, their commander, who rallied his men, 
making them fight like tigers, until while riding among his soldiers, who 
were mixed in with the Confederates all about them, he was wounded in the 
head with a cavalry saber, unhorsed, and captured. 

   A more gallant soldier and courteous gentleman was not found in either 
army than J. R. Kenly. 

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Born and raised in Maryland, he had fought with distinction in the war 
with Mexico. In the War between the States he sided with the North. A 
Democrat by conviction, after the war he practiced law with indifferent 
success from a financial point of view, and though the Federal Government 
had it in its power to render him valuable services through political 
appointments, the party in power had no use for a Democrat in public 
office, no matter how valuable his services had been to his country. 
General Kenly, - he rose to that rank, - was too proud and spirited to 
seek or accept political favors and in his quiet and dignified way 
exemplified the manly and virtuous qualities of the true soldier. His 
great merit has never been properly appreciated by his State nor by the 
nation. Maryland never had a more brilliant soldier. 

   When my father learned the following morning that Colonel Kenly was a 
wounded prisoner in the village he requested my mother to prepare a 
substantial breakfast for him as he feared that, as a prisoner, the 
Colonel would not receive the attention he was entitled to. He had been so 
kind to our citizens while in command of our village that my father wished 
to give some expression of his sympathy and esteem now that Colonel Kenly 
was in an unfortunate situation. I accompanied my father and carried the 
waiter with the breakfast that my mother had prepared. We found 

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the Colonel in a large room, - plainly furnished and wanting in real 
comforts, - on the first floor of an unoccupied dwelling. As we entered, 
by permission of the guard at the door, we found him in his shirt sleeves, 
without collar, his head tied up with bandages that concealed his wound. 
He was walking the floor like a caged lion and seemed to feel his 
humiliation keenly. My father explained to him the nature of his visit and 
I placed the waiter with the breakfast on a table for his use when 
agreeable to him. He expressed his appreciation of the kindness and 
courtesy extended to him, and though evidently much out of temper when we 
entered the room, he soon calmed down, with the remark that he did not 
care for the wound nor feel unpleasant over his capture, but he did resent 
the way in which he was wounded. It seems that in the cavalry charge the 
men were much mixed up. Darkness was coming on. Distinctions were not 
easily made and he had been struck with a saber by a private cavalryman 
before his surrender was demanded. Having been an officer in the old army, 
he was punctilious about etiquette and thought he had been treated with 
brutality. In a general mêlée, such as was going on, men do not show good 
manners; every man is looking after himself and has little consideration 
for the other fellow. So the cavalryman that inflicted the wound most 
probably did 

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not know that he was making an assault upon an officer of high rank. This 
recalls an incident that actually took place between a Federal private and 
a Confederate officer, whom I knew and who was distinguished for his 
eccentricities and absence of mind. In a small skirmish, in which the 
Confederate cavalry was routed, the officer in question was following his 
men in their rush to the rear. He did not seem to appreciate the 
seriousness of the situation and was riding along in a slow gallop, 
apparently forgetful of the press of the enemy. A Federal private rode up 
and struck the officer a mild blow with his saber - just hard enough to 
remove the Confederate's attention from his dreams. Turning in his saddle, 
he remarked to the private, "I am Captain M---. Don't you know it is 
disrespectful to strike an officer?" The rebuke was so deliberate that it 
quite disconcerted the private, who apologized for his rudeness and let 
his prisoner escape. 

   I never saw Colonel Kenly after this interview, as he was taken with 
other prisoners within the lines. On his release from prison he returned 
to duty in the army, where he made a successful record during the 
following years of the war. As the Southern sentiment largely prevailed in 
Maryland, his military record has never received the high honor it 
deserved. He lived in comparative obscurity in Baltimore until his death a 
few years 

Page 126

ago. As a rebel boy I feel that this tribute is due him, for we should 
honor merit wherever found and pay respect to men who live up to the 
highest duties of life. 

   During the week following the battle of May 23d our village was filled 
with Confederate soldiers. The Twelfth Georgia Regiment was ordered into 
camp near my home to do provost-guard duty and to watch the gaps in the 
Blue Ridge, through which the enemy might come to cut off the retreat of 
Jackson by way of the Shenandoah Valley. 

   In the meantime we knew but little of Jackson's movements. The battle 
of Winchester had been fought and Jackson was believed to be invading 
Maryland by way of Harper's Ferry. We knew he was dealing with the enemy 
in his front, but had little thought that the enemy on his right and left 
flank could close in on his rear and cut off his retreat up the Valley. It 
did not occur to us that Jackson was on the alert for these movements and 
had made all his plans to defeat them. Few of our people knew that the 
Federal army was within a day's march of our village. 



Page 127

CHAPTER XI 
WITHIN THE FEDERAL LINES. THE BATTLE OF PORT REPUBLIC

   ON Friday afternoon, May 30th, we were thrown into the greatest 
uneasiness by the sudden breaking up of the camp of the Twelfth Georgia 
Regiment, and its march out of our village. As soon as the camp was 
evacuated a number of men, women, and children, - colored and white, - 
went to the site of the camp to pick up all the old plunder and discarded 
articles left by the soldiers. After a camp has been occupied a day or 
more the abandoned grounds are usually covered with old junk, and often 
articles of some value are found. The citizens who visited the camp fell 
heir to these abandoned goods. It was not uncommon for the Federal troops 
to leave much valuable truck, such as hard tack, old clothes, blankets, 
boxes, and not infrequently old guns and pistols. 

   While the camp of the Twelfth Georgia was being ransacked by the people 
of the village, a piece of artillery was run up without warning, on a hill 
one mile south, and a shell was thrown into the camp. Such running and 
screaming has seldom been heard. The camp was deserted in the 

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twinkling of an eye. In the meantime several regiments of cavalry dashed 
in a wild charge through the village and down the pike, in full pursuit of 
the Confederates. 

   Just before leaving the village the Confederates had set fire to the 
depot, and while the charge was being made the depot was in flames. To 
make the pandemonium worse and more terrifying to our people a violent 
thunderstorm came up. And while the rain dashed, the thunder crashed, and 
the lightning flashed from the darkened heavens, the fire in the depot 
raged and the cavalry charged down the pike. It seemed for the time being 
that the demons from the lower world had broken loose, that we were to be 
overwhelmed by the enemy, by the fire, and by the violence of nature. The 
happiness and hopes of the previous week were cast down, and we were again 
in the hands of the enemy. The Confederates had deserted us and in doing 
so had threatened the destruction of our village by setting fire to the 
depot. But for the rush of the Federal troops, who fought the spread of 
the fire, and the copious downpour of rain, the place would have been 
wiped out. Our enemies and the bounty of nature saved us from a general 
conflagration. 

   Some of our citizens were outspoken in their criticisms of the 
Confederate authorities for not removing all of the captured goods from 
the depot. 

Page 129

There was ample time to do so, and valuable property was lost through 
someone's inefficiency. The Federal cavalry that charged after the 
Confederates, came upon the Twelfth Georgia about two miles north of the 
village. That regiment had taken a strong position that commanded the pike 
where it ran by the side of a hill, lined on one side by a high precipice 
and on the other by a steep incline. As the Federal cavalry charged down 
the road a volley was poured into its ranks, nine men were killed, a 
number wounded, and the remainder scattered in wild confusion. There were 
no casualties among the Georgians, who retreated now to Winchester and 
there joined Jackson. 

   That evening and the following day the Federal troops under McDowell 
and Shields poured into our village and the fields about and went into 
camp. In less than twenty-four hours there were 20,000 men encamped within 
a radius of five miles, - more than Jackson had in his entire command, 
which was now scattered from the Potomac to Strasburg, 12 miles west of 
our village on the Valley pike, less than a day's march from either 
McDowell on the east or Fremont on the west. Apparently all that the 
Federal generals had to do was to close in on Jackson's rear and capture 
his army. As "the best laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft a-gley" we 
will see later that the 

Page 130

dexterity and energy of Jackson were more than a match for the strategy of 
the Federals. 

   On the morning of May 31st, - the day following the evacuation of our 
village by the Confederates, - who should come to our home but the same 
colonel of the Pennsylvania regiment who had been our guest during General 
Shields' encampment (May 14-16). He had returned with General Shields' 
division, which was now in camp near us. We were glad to welcome him and 
gave him a room in our home. During the same day General Carroll, of 
Shields' Division, and General Duryée, of McDowell's Corps, asked to be 
entertained in our home. General Carroll was accompanied by his wife and a 
little girl. The members of General Duryée's large staff were quartered in 
the yard, but took meals at our table, for we had an abundance of food and 
a number of negroes for domestic service. Through the courtesy of General 
Duryée my mother was given an order on the Quartermaster for any 
additional supplies needed; and Uncle Lewis would go to camp daily and get 
fresh meat, groceries, and canned goods. For over two weeks we had these 
officers in our home, with the exception of General Carroll, who joined 
his command on June 1st. 

   Our community was now a hive of martial excitement and military 
operations. Some 20,000 men were in camp, and, with the exception of 
General 

Page 131

Shields' Division, all were idle. When Shields reached our village on 
Saturday morning, May 31st, be had ample time to move west to Strasburg 
and take a position in the rear of Jackson's line of retreat; but for some 
reason be wasted the entire day and did not move until Sunday morning. 

   An incident that took place at our breakfast table on Sunday morning 
fully illustrates the situation. I will relate it as it actually occurred 
and as I heard and saw it. Though only 13 years of age at the time it is 
still fresh in my memory to-day, for I have written and related it a 
number of times. 

   Sunday morning, June 1st, was a most beautiful day. The heavens were 
clear, the atmosphere was mild and balmy, the flowers were in bloom, and 
the birds sang sweetly in the trees around the house. All nature smiled 
with peace and happiness, and only man was vile and cruel. Seated at the 
breakfast table in my home were my parents, Colonel McDowell, General 
Carroll and his wife, General Duryée and his staff, and Dr. Mercer, an old 
physician, the uncle of Mrs. Carroll who accompanied her so that she would 
not be lonely when General Carroll was attending to his military duties. 
I, the only child present, sat at my mother's side. While the meal was 
being served and all were conversing animatedly, we heard the 

Page 132

slow firing of artillery in the distance. Each discharge became more and 
more distinct, and the reports of muskets mingled with the roll of 
artillery, indicated a general engagement on the Valley pike in the 
neighborhood of Cedar Creek. Attention was soon called to the cannonade 
and remarks were made by the officers present suggesting the probable 
cause of the firing. They decided that the engagement was between the 
forces of Fremont and Jackson, - 12 miles west, on the Valley pike. As 
General Carroll had instructions to join his command that morning at 9 
o'clock and march west to Strasburg, he volunteered to explain the 
situation. 

   He told us that General Shields would march with his division to 
Strasburg to take a position in the rear of Jackson, who, with his 
advance, was at that time near Winchester, 19 miles north of Strasburg, in 
full retreat up the Valley. Shields had a distance of 12 miles to cover, 
while Jackson had 19 miles, and his men were widely scattered. The 
artillery firing, he said, was between some of Jackson's cavalry, which 
was trying to hold in check the advance of Fremont from the west, and 
Fremont's men, who were trying to reach the Valley pike. He remarked, with 
some brusqueness and braggadocio, that Shields and Fremont would unite 
their forces at Strasburg by 12 o'clock and close in behind Jackson, thus 
cutting off the 

Page 133

retreat of the Confederates. Turning to my mother, he said: 

   "This means, Mrs. Ashby, that before midday we will have Jackson 
bagged, and the backbone of the Confederacy will be broken." 

   As there was apparently more truth than poetry in General Carroll's 
remarks, my mother's eyes filled with tears, and she excused herself from 
the table. After she had left General Duryée, a most courtly gentleman, 
remarked to General Carroll that his remarks had wounded my mother's 
feelings; and he tried to apologize to my father for an apparent boldness 
of speech that had no serious meaning. 

   Very soon the company arose from the table. General Carroll took leave 
of his wife, mounted his horse, and left to join his command that was to 
march at 9 o'clock for Strasburg. General Duryée and staff also mounted 
their horses and rode away to their command. 

   Mrs. Carroll retired to her room to worry over General Carroll's 
departure for active service. Dr. Mercer took a stroll around the lawn, 
while my father, Colonel McDowell, and I went out on the front porch. We 
could distinctly hear the cannon booming on the pike and the direction of 
the firing was gradually moving south, indicating that the Confederates 
were holding their ground. Colonel McDowell, turning to my father, 
remarked 

Page 134

that General Carroll had stated that Shields and Fremont would unite their 
forces by 12 o'clock and bag Jackson, but that he did not believe one word 
of it. Then he said, with an emphasis and feeling that impressed me 
greatly: 

   "I hope to God that Jackson will lick them." 

   Taking a chair, he sat down and drew me to his lap, took a silver watch 
out of his pocket, and put it on me, with these words: 

   "Keep this watch, my son, to remember me. I bought it for rough use 
when I entered the army. I have a gold watch at home." 

   He then said to my father that he had his resignation in his pocket, 
and was no longer in the service of the Government, and added: "When I 
return home I will resume my editorial duties and will oppose the policy 
of the Administration, - its purpose to overthrow the institution of 
slavery. I am a Union man, not an abolitionist." 

   It would be as difficult for me to forget the words of Colonel McDowell 
as to forget his kindness. He remained with us for several weeks and 
seemed loth to part with us. After his return to his home he resumed his 
editorial duties and the next time we heard of him he was a prisoner in 
Fort Warren, for his denunciation of the policies of the Government. After 
the close of the war he wrote to my father that he had been persecuted 

Page 135

and financially ruined by his war experiences. I still have the watch he 
gave me. 

   A few hours after this episode while sitting on the portico we saw a 
large body of Federal troops marching up the pike, coming in from the 
direction of Strasburg. These troops proved to be those of Shields, which 
had been ordered that morning to close in on the rear of Jackson and unite 
with Fremont. 

   After Shields had marched some four miles in the direction of Strasburg 
he met a body of Confederate cavalry that fired into his front column and 
arrested his advance. He then ascertained that the main body under Jackson 
had reached Strasburg during the night and early morning, had driven back 
the advance of Fremont, and was safe from the bag that General Carroll had 
spread for him. By forced marches and energetic action he made good his 
retreat from Winchester with all his men, captured goods, prisoners, and 
supplies, losing not a wagon nor a gun. 

   General Shields now reversed his order of march, and by one o'clock was 
moving south by the Page Valley, to try and get in Jackson's rear at New 
Market. Jackson retreated slowly up the Valley, followed by Banks in his 
rear, Fremont on his right flank, and Shields on his left. When he reached 
Harrisonburg he came to a halt and waited for the advance of Fremont and 
Banks; 

Page 136

he then took a position at Cross Keys and waited for an assault of the 
enemy. 

   On the 8th of June Jackson defeated the Federals under Fremont and the 
following day he crossed the south branch of the Shenandoah and at Port 
Republic gave battle to the army under General Shields. After a hard and 
bloody fight he defeated Shields and forced him to retreat north by the 
same route along which he had advanced. The brigade commanded by General 
Carroll was engaged in the battle of Port Republic and suffered heavy 
losses. A few days later General Carroll returned from the front and as he 
passed my home, where Mrs. Carroll was still staying, he sent a courier to 
the house with the following message: 

   "Tell Mrs. Carroll to join me in Washington. Tell Mrs. Ashby that old 
Jackson gave us hell." 

   He was tired, his clothes were torn and muddy, and his morale 
completely broken. In his pitiable condition he had not the courage to 
face either his heart-sick wife or my mother, though he passed within one 
hundred yards of the house. He hurried to the depot and took the first 
train for Washington. This was the last we ever saw of General Carroll. 
Mrs. Carroll, a pitiful little woman tied to a great big bear, joined her 
husband a few days later. 

   Shields retreated north by the Page Valley, 

Page 137

and Fremont and Banks followed the main Valley. Their forces were 
demoralized by the rough experiences they had had in following Jackson. 
When Shields reached our village his men were worn out, ragged, and half 
starved. He had taken little time for rest, for he thought that Jackson 
was following on his rear. He was pursued by a small body of cavalry that 
kept annoying him until he was safe under the wings of McDowell, who was 
still encamped near our village. 

   After the battles of Cross Keyes and Port Republic, Jackson withdrew 
his army to a safe encampment near Mt. Meridian. Here he rested his men 
for five days, then he crossed the mountain and took the railroad that 
carried his army to within easy reach of Richmond, where he joined his 
forces with those of General Lee to fight the battles of the Peninsula, - 
battles that resulted in the defeat and retreat of the army under 
McClellan. 

   On May 19th, Stonewall Jackson had begun his Valley Campaign, - a 
campaign that resulted in a brilliant success for the Southern cause. With 
the defeat of Fremont on June 8th and of Shields on June 9th, he had been 
on the march for 23 days; had covered nearly 200 miles; had driven Banks 
across the Potomac; had withdrawn McDowell's forces from Fredericksburg, 
where 

Page 138

they were on their way to reinforce McClellan before Richmond; had seized 
valuable supplies at Front Royal, Winchester, and Martinsburg, and at 
length, although surrounded on three sides by 60,000 men, had escaped the 
snares set for him and brought off his prisoners and captured goods 
without losing a wagon. And he had done all this with a comparatively 
small loss of men. The battle of Port Republic was his most costly 
victory, but its results were so brilliant that it was a fitting close to 
a scene of warfare that will live in history with the great campaigns of 
the world. It raised the fame of Jackson to the highest pinnacle of 
military renown, giving him a position among the greatest soldiers of the 
age. 

   Having followed Jackson to his union with Lee before Richmond, I must 
now return to the situation of affairs as they were presented in my own 
home. 

   After the battle of Port Republic the Federal troops were encamped in 
and near our village until about the 20th of June. During the greater part 
of this time we lived in daily expectation of an attack from the 
Confederate forces. The Federals were kept in anxious suspense, since 
Jackson's whereabouts were not known. Strong guard was kept on the 
outposts, and every preparation was made for an attack. Jackson's union 
with Lee was not known until the engagement 

Page 139

with McClellan on the Chickahominy was announced. Large bodies had been 
retained in the Valley to protect Washington, and he had slipped quietly 
across the mountain to coöperate with Lee. 

   During the ten days following the defeat of Shields at Port Republic my 
home was filled with Federal officers. General Duryée and staff were still 
with us and Colonel McDowell still remained a guest in our home. In 
addition to these guests, we had two wounded officers, - one Federal and 
one Confederate. The Federal officer was a German of General Shields' 
staff, who had been shot in the face at Port Republic. He was a handsome, 
dashing fellow, quite popular with his companions, - an officer in the 
German army, we were told, on leave of absence, who had joined the Federal 
army to learn some of the methods of American warfare. He was severely 
punished for his curiosity, for his face was badly scarred by a rebel 
bullet. 

   A singular circumstance took place in connection with his stay in our 
home. While confined to his room one afternoon a young woman, accompanied 
by a German officer, and riding a spirited horse, dashed up to the front 
door of the house. She sprang from her horse, rushed into the house, and 
asked the servant where she could find the wounded officer. When told 
where he 

Page 140

lay, she rushed upstairs and, without ceremony, entered his room. This 
woman was the then celebrated Belle Boyd. Her history in brief may not be 
wanting in interest. 

   She was a well-bred woman, - a native of one of the northern counties 
of the State, and at that time had relatives in our village, with whom she 
was temporarily staying. She had developed a strong interest in military 
matters, and, posing as a Rebel spy and heroine, she had already attracted 
considerable notice by her exploits; but she was not taken seriously by 
either the Federals or the Confederates. Though professing warm allegiance 
to the South, she played with both sides a game that inspired no 
confidence in either, hence she lived in either camp as it suited her 
purpose and, as far as I know, was never under arrest. At the time I speak 
of she was in the Federal lines and was receiving marked attentions from 
the young Federal officers. On May 22d she had ridden into the Confederate 
lines and had given Jackson information that proved to be unreliable. 

   When she rode up to my home to see the wounded German officer she was 
playing the game of flirt and lowering the dignity of her sex. She was a 
young woman of some personal beauty, vivacious, attractive, and spirited 
in manner, and a skilled rider of spirited horses. Nor was she 

Page 141

wanting in energy, dash, and courage; but she had none of the genius, 
inspiration, and religious fervor of the true heroine. She loved notoriety 
and attention, and was as far below the standard of the pure and noble 
womanhood of the South as was a circus rider. Her own sex in the South 
repudiated her, and the true manhood of both armies was as suspicious of 
her character as Frederick the Great was of Madame de Pompadour. So much 
for Belle Boyd. Her heroism has long faded into the forgetfulness of her 
generation. She has found no decent place in history. 

   The wounded Confederate officer in our house at that time, Captain 
Driver, has a most pathetic history. At the battle of Port Republic he was 
wounded in the eye by a spent bullet, and the wound came very near 
destroying the vision in both eyes. He was captured and as a prisoner was 
on parole in our home. Just how he came to us I do not remember but in 
some way he attracted the sympathy of the Federals and was given the 
freedom of a private house. He had with him his adopted son, Arthur Waugh, 
a boy of 18 years, - who accepted capture to wait on his parent, who was 
so blind as to require someone to lead him around. Captain Driver was kept 
blindfolded or in a dark room by the Federal surgeon who attended him. He 
suffered greatly 

Page 142

and aroused much sympathy by his patient, gentle manners and almost 
helpless condition. He remained with us until the Federal army evacuated 
the village, when he was carried to Washington. The recollection of this 
wounded Confederate officer made a deep impression on me, and after he 
left our home I often tried to find him. I had forgotten his name, but I 
remembered that he was a captain in a Louisiana regiment. A few years ago 
I wrote to the New Orleans Times-Democrat and made inquiry about Captain 
Driver, giving the facts about his wound and capture. The editor of the 
paper worked up the case for me and published the story as I have related 
it. It found its way into the notice of the boy Arthur, who was then 
living in New Orleans. I was soon put in possession of the facts, and 
learned that Captain Driver had returned home at the close of the war, and 
died in 1873. 



Page 143

CHAPTER XII 
FEDERAL OFFICERS IN MY HOME

   WHILE the Federal troops were encamped around our village, waiting for 
an attack by Stonewall Jackson, General Duryée and staff were still guests 
in my home. The General was a man of great courtesy and kindness of heart, 
and rendered my mother a service that was greatly prized during the next 
two years of the war. In a conversation on the conduct and extent of the 
war he remarked that it would be a long and bitter struggle, one that 
would severely test the strength and endurance of both North and South. He 
stated that he knew the temper of the people of the North and their 
determination to restore the Union, and that he also knew the courage and 
spirit of the people of the South and their determination to prolong the 
war until their resources were exhausted or victory crowned their efforts. 
He explained that because of this, great distress would come to the 
Southern people through destruction of life and property, and their 
inability to secure the necessaries of life. 

   He advised my mother to take advantage of an offer be was then able to 
make. He urged her 

Page 144

to make out a list of such articles of domestic use as a lady would need 
in her housekeeping for two or three years and then said he would send to 
Washington and have these goods forwarded to him. Acting upon this 
generous suggestion, my mother made up a list of supplies, which were soon 
brought by rail and delivered to her by General Duryée. In this list were 
barrels of sugar, sacks of coffee and salt, cans of tea and all kinds of 
condiments. In addition, there were cotton goods, calicoes, needles and 
thread, and other articles of domestic use. The goods were stored in 
pantry, garret, and cellar for future consumption. At that time gold and 
silver were in circulation and my mother had sufficient money to pay for 
these goods; but it so happened that by this forethought my home was 
supplied with necessities until the close of the war, and that we were 
able to give to the sick and needy the luxuries not easily secured in time 
of conflict. As it was, toward the end of the war flour and cornmeal were 
difficult to be had, and we lived on unbolted flour. 

   General Duryée was reputed to be a man of wealth; and his generosity, 
his bearing, and his equipment indicated this. His uniforms, horses, 
saddles, and military trappings were very handsome and elaborate, which 
probably accounted for his having acquired the nickname of the "Bandbox 

Page 145

General." His staff was made up of a number of handsome young men, 
evidently of high social standing, all natives of New York City. Up to 
that time he had not seen hard fighting, and his men had more the 
appearance of being on dress parade than of being rough soldiers. His 
subsequent war record was most creditable, and he was lacking in neither 
dash nor courage. At Antietam his horse was killed under him, and at Bull 
Run he was severely wounded. 

   In General Duryée's command was a regiment of New York Zouaves that 
presented a striking appearance, with their bright red coats, red turbans, 
and white leggins. This uniform was soon discarded by the men who did the 
fighting, - for it was too showy and made good targets for our rebel 
bullets. 

   When General Duryée was taking leave of my mother he delivered to her 
care a very handsome dress sword in a gold-mounted scabbard, with Damascus 
steel blade. He told her that in 1859 this sword had been presented to him 
by the State of Virginia on the occasion of the unveiling of the Henry 
Clay monument in the Capitol grounds at Richmond, when he was colonel of a 
New York regiment that was being entertained by the citizens of Richmond. 
He explained that as he was now in arms against the State of Virginia he 
desired to leave this sword with a citizen of Virginia 

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until the war was ended, when he would request its return. He handed my 
mother a note with the sword explaining how it came into her possession. 
This sword remained in our home until after the war when it was returned 
to General Duryée at his request, as the following letters will show. 

NEW YORK, FEB. 5TH, 1866. 
Mr. Ashby. 

   DEAR SIR: During the campaign of McDowell in your vicinity I was 
fortunately quartered in your hospitable mansion. When about to leave I 
gave in charge to your wife my dress sword, which she promised to retain 
for me. 

   Will you do me the favor to inform me how I can obtain it, and if 
communication is open to Washington by rail? Hoping you are all well, and 
with my kindest regards to Mrs. Ashby, I am 

Truly yours, 
A. DURYEE.
3 EAST 38TH STREET, 
NEW YORK. 

   On the above letter is the marginal note in my father's handwriting: 
"Answered February 15th, 1866." 

NEW YORK, FEB.28TH, 1866. 
Thos. N. Ashby, Esq. 

   MY DEAR SIR: Your favor is now before me, and I sincerely appreciate 
your kindness in 

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preserving for me my sword. The answer made by Mrs. Ashby when I placed it 
in her charge made a lasting impression, and I told my family that, 
whatever transpired, I was sure eventually to get the sword. I deeply 
sympathize with you in your losses. I am familiar with many cases of the 
same character. One family by the name of Richards at Cloud's Mills, whose 
mansion was my Headquarters, during our stay treated us with open-hearted 
hospitality so characteristic of the Virginians. After I left other troops 
took possession. The newcomers ruthlessly swept everything off of the 
place, - even the barns were torn down and burnt, - and the family was 
left in penury and want. I took them provisions, and never felt happier in 
my life, in relieving the wants of this noble family. 

   I am happy to inform you that my brother and self are well. My brother 
was severely wounded at Antietam. He is now Deputy Collector of the Port 
of Fernandina, Florida. I was slightly wounded three times at Bull Run, 
and my horse was shot under me at Antietam. 

   Now, my friend, I do not wish to put you to the least trouble or 
inconvenience, but if at any time you can conveniently send the sword to 
Mr. Robert B. Coleman, proprietor of the Eutaw House, Baltimore, Md., I 
shall feel under renewed obligations. 

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   Present my regards to Mrs. Ashby and my best wishes for her happiness, 
and accept the same for yourself. 

   If at any time I can reciprocate your kindness do not fail to ask it. 
Possibly you have claims against the Government. Can I be of any service 
to you? 

   I cordially invite you and Mrs. Ashby to my home; and if at any time 
you come to New York do not fail to let me know on your arrival. I reside 
at No. 3 East 38th Street, one door from 5th Avenue. My office is Cor. of 
Jefferson and Cherry Str. 

Yours, with high respect, 
A. DURYEE.

   Soon after General Duryee left we took leave of all the Federal 
officers in our home. The Federal army evacuated our village, the railroad 
trains were withdrawn, and we were for several weeks in free communication 
with the Confederate lines. The boys in grey made frequent visits to their 
homes, and the domestic life of our people was tranquil. The Confederates 
had been victorious on the Peninsula, Richmond was safe, and the cause 
looked more hopeful. 

   While the Federal troops were encamped around our village a number of 
incidents took place that may be worthy of notice, since they 

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show the spirit and disposition of our negro servants and the cordial 
relations still existing between master and slave. My father's servants 
had been exceedingly loyal and faithful. Uncle Lewis had taken charge of 
the land, looked after the crops and such live stock as we had left, and 
was most efficient in his work. He had in his room, - collected from the 
camps as they were abandoned, - an enormous supply of old junk that had 
been discarded by the troops. Among other items he had several barrels of 
hard-tack, which made excellent food for hogs and poultry. This article of 
diet stood in bad repute with the soldier, and seemed to have been 
repudiated, when it was possible to escape its use. In all the abandoned 
camps where it had been supplied to the Federal troops as a ration it 
could be found strewn over the ground and wasted in the most lavish 
manner. Soldiers in camp are usually indisposed to live on strict army 
rations, if it is possible to get other food; and as the Federal troops 
were paid regularly in gold or silver they had spending money, which they 
used freely for the purchase of food and luxuries that were not on the 
army bill of fare. 

   The sutlers, who followed the army, supplied many of these luxuries; 
but when the men were in camp for a few days they would wander through the 
villages and farmhouses in search of milk, 

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bread, cakes, pies and fruits. During the first two years of the war they 
willingly paid for these things; but later they pillaged and appropriated 
whatever could be found. The only limit to their thefts was the absence of 
the things desired. They often wantonly took property of no use to them 
and destroyed it in a spirit of vindictiveness. Later in this story I will 
give some account of these acts of vandalism and barbarity, but I must not 
anticipate. The acts of 1862 were orderly and considerate of private 
property, and the men who were encamped on our lands and often stayed in 
our homes were princely gentlemen in comparison with those who came later. 

   During the spring and summer of 1862 our people were treated, - except 
in rare instances, - as kindly by the Federals as by the Confederates so 
far as private rights were concerned. Whilst they camped on our lands and 
burned fences and old buildings they did not destroy growing crops or 
those gathered in barns and granaries. Our homes were protected by guards 
and the smoke-house, poultry yard, and pantry were safe from pillage. When 
our home was filled with Federal officers we had the greatest abundance of 
food supplies and plenty of servants to prepare and serve it. 

   Old Aunt Susan, our cook, was most energetic and faithful; she attended 
to the poultry, to the 

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dairy, and the kitchen, and soon found many opportunities to profit by the 
situation. The men from the camps began to come to the house to get milk, 
butter, and eggs. With my mother's permission, Susan was allowed to employ 
her spare time in baking bread, pies, and cakes which she sold at good 
prices; and in a few months the crafty old negress had accumulated a 
handsome pile of gold and silver which she carefully guarded. Indeed, at 
the close of the war she had saved so considerable a sum that she 
purchased a home in the village, in which she lived until her death. 

   All the servants around our home fared well at this time, as they were 
generously tipped by the officers. The same may be said of many others who 
were able to take advantage of the opportunities that were presented for 
money-making out of the Federal troops. These opportunities all 
disappeared after 1862, and during the following years of the war our 
people, - white and colored, rich and poor, - were subjected to many 
hardships and privations. The temper of the enemy had changed, and the 
policy of the Federal Government had hardened to a brutality toward 
innocent men, women, and children, whose only crime was that they were 
loyal to the Southern cause and gave encouragement to the men of their 
blood, who were fighting for their independence. 

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As the greater number of our negroes still remained with their owners they 
bore the hardships of war with equal spirit and endurance. These faithful 
servants were often the mainstay of their owners, for they cultivated the 
crops and raised what food supplies our people had to live on.