Friday, November 8, 2013
McClellan of Cane Hill by Conrad Russell
The White McClellan House in Cane Hill was built about 1865, and is one of the well-preserved homes of the area. It was restored to something near its original state by Mrs. Nellie Cox in the late 1960's.
It was built by Evan White McClellan when he returned to his home after the Civil War. He was born August 21, 1811 in Knoxville, Tennessee, and died February, 1882 at Boonsboro. On December 29, 1840, he married Sarah Jane Truesdell, daughter of John and Elizabeth (Harrington) Truesdell. She was born April 24, 1823, in Princeton, Indiana, and died December 26, 1905 in Boonsboro.
Evan White and Sarah Jane moved into their new home after it was finished. A large colonial structure boasting eight fire-places, it is said that two men were employed full time during the fall and winter months to cut wood and fire the fireplaces.
There were nine children in this family. The oldest son was John Truesdell, the subject of this story. He joined the Confederate Army and served during the conflict.
John T. was born April 15, 1842 at Boonsboro. At the outbreak of the war he joined Company H, 15th N. W. Ark. Infantry under Captain Buchanan. In 1865, he lost his sight and became totally blind.
At the close of the war, John returned to the family farm in Cane Hill to regain his health. He was determined to overcome the handicap of blindness so he attended the Law School of the University of Virginia and in 1872 he received the Bachelor of Law degree, although it had been necessary to employ someone to do his reading for him.
After his graduation he practiced law in McKinney, Texas and from one client he received a farm or parcel of land which was sold only a few years ago (keep in mind this article was written in 1977) by his heirs. After some years, he returned again to the Cane Hill Farm. After the death of his parents he came into possession of the big house and considerable acreage.
John T. was an expert horseman and always chose for his saddle horse a spirited, intelligent horse. His horses were of a special breed developed by his brother Charles on Charles' Oklahoma ranch, and called Red Wasp.
The horses John T. trained were remarkable. Trained to respond to signals of touch and movement as well as to commands, they would stand unattended, would not pass under low limbs or wire or anything low enough to strike a man in the saddle. He rode to the village almost daily, often with a basket of eggs or bucket of milk. He could go to any place he pleased in the village without any visible direction given to the horse.
The horse would move up to a gate and stand parallel to it until John found the latch and opened the gate; then the horse would pass through and repeat the action while the gate was being fastened.
John employed someone to ride with him while he was training his horse to warn him of low objects and any other things that might be dangerous to the rider. After the horse was trained, he rode alone. And he did not confine his rides to Cane Hill. His horses were trained to signal him at crossroads and he traveled the roads with a companion until he had memorized the turn he wanted to take.
He traveled long distances, making trips to Tahlequah to visit relatives, and many trips to Claremore, Oklahoma, where his sister Ada lived, and later, his brothers Charles and William. It is said he even rode to McKinney, Texas.
His most famous horse was named "Josh." On one occasion, he rode Josh to Claremore where he planned to spend some time. He decided to send Josh home, so he wrote a note saying "Let Josh pass," signed his name, tied the note to the saddle, and told Josh to go home. In due time, Josh arrived in Cane Hill.
It was thought that his horses were trained to signal him if he met someone on foot. Boys of the community often stood silently beside the road to see if he would pass them by. But it seemed that the horse would bob its head up and down a couple of times and John would say, "Hello, who is it?"
"Marmaduke" and "Maggie" were two other noted horses in John McClellan's string. "Maggie" was quite a bucker. I have seen him riding her as she bucked down the rocky hill from the barn to the pasture in front of the house.
There are many more surprising things that John T. McClellan could do. Some of them may seem unreasonable for a blind man. However, I have witnessed enough of them that I would not dispute any of them.
In order to feed and care for his horses, John Truesdell McClellan picked his way along a rocky path to the barn for many years. He would walk into a large hallway in the barn, filled with unbroken horses, talking and placing his hands on each one as he pushed his way among them. I never heard of one of them kicking him.
In the early winter of 1919, he fell from the hayloft, fracturing several ribs. Pneumonia followed and claimed his life, ending a colorful career.
*Taken from Volume 27, number 1 of the Washington County Historical Society's publication of FLASHBACK.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Cane Hill's Ancient Fort
CANE HILL
Washington Co., Arkansas
From THE MEMPHIS (TN) DAILY APPEAL, April 10, 1859
From THE MEMPHIS (TN) DAILY APPEAL, April 10, 1859
There are many beautiful places in the State of Arkansas -- many rich, rolling prairies, chequered off into fertile fields, and dotted here and there with the houses and barns of an enterprising and intelligent population.
The northwestern part of the State abounds in picturesque scenery. The Ozark mountains extend through that section, and divide the cotton region from that in which small grain and Indian corn from the staple productions. Traveling north from Van Buren, on the Arkansas River, a spur of this mountain range must be crossed. This spur is called the Boston mountain, and separates Washington from Crawford county.
Washing county lies north of Boston mountain, having the Cherokee nation immediately on the west. The land is generally fertile and no inconsiderable portion of the county is prairie. In this country there is a remarkable hill, bearing the name which stands at the head of this article. It rises amid a prairie, being about six miles long and from three to four in width. Its greatest height (sic) is one hundred and fifty feet; in some places the ascent is gradual and easy, in others it is rugged and precipitous. The summit is almost level, and the soil is black, and equal in fertility to the celebrated American bottom in Illinois, or the valley of the Nile itself. The growth of timber, on the remarkable hill, is similar to that found in the creek and river bottoms of that vicinity; it is black and white walnut, sassafras, ash, oak, sweet gum, and the largest mulberry trees I have ever seen in any country.
Cane Hill is remarkable for its abundance of clear and beautiful spring water. There are hundreds of springs in and about it. Never did more delicious water burst forth from the bosom of our common mother than these clear, cold springs of Cane Hill. The longest droughts, and the most powerful freshets seem to have no influence either upon the quantity of quality of the water.
Near the center of Cane Hill several springs arise from a gentle eminence, and flow away to different directions in bold streams, which soon unite with others and become considerable, affording never failing water power for machinery at the places of their descent. Several valuable flour mills and one or two cotton factories have been erected there, within the last year or two, and are doing well. At the point where these springs arise are the remains of an ancient fort. A portion of the stone wall still exists, but the greater part has long since been demolished. When I first visited that locality, which was in 1832, two squares of wall were standing. The work was of rough, but substantial masonry, and about a half acre, including several springs, was enclosed. Much labor had been bestowed upon the springs. Huge stone basins, curiously carved, and of shapes and dimensions, were found there, and in the vicinity, by the early settlers.
Daniel Boone, the great pioneer, accompanied by he late Governor Baggs of Missouri, were the first white men who climbed that hill. They sighted it in 1804, or 1805, and gave it the name of the "Black Hill". The Indians then residing there told them that, as far back as their traditions reached, the fort had been there, and they had no definite idea by whom or when it had been built. An oak at least four feet in diameter, standing on a part of the dilapidated wall, and evidently planted since the erection of the wall, bears indisputable evidence of the lapse of several centuries.
It is said that the wild Indians, scattered over the wide West, for ages prior to the coming of the pale face to take away their hunting grounds, were in the habit of holding a yearly council within the ruins of that fort. They resorted thither to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hold consultations relative to their general good. They regarded the old fort as a consecrated place, and thought that they heard the Great Spirit speaking to them, as the winds moaned among the boughs of the mighty trees, or the thunder echoed back its startling peals from the neighboring mountains.
In vain do we ask, 'Who built that fort? What people lived there? When did they flourish? By what means did they become extinct?' There is no voice to respond -- no record to gratify curiosity -- no history to clear away the obscurity that hangs over the whole subject. Certain it is, however, that some people, far more advanced toward civilization than the red man, once had their home here -- these crystal waters once reflected back their images and slaked their thirst, the smoke from these altars once arose amid these groves, and their songs made response to the prowl of the wild wolf. Here, at these springs, councils met and debated grave questions, involving the fate of tribes and nations, and decided whether war or peace should prevail. Here, once lived a race that, like ours, and all others of the varied family of man, were sometimes oppressed with fear, as others, transported with joy; sometimes mourned in adversity, at others rejoiced in prosperity. But they are all gone!
The scene is now changed. The Anglo-Saxon is there, transforming everything by his wondrous touch into images of art and science. Agriculture and commerce now hold undisputed sway, and peace crowns the sylvan shade.
*This article is from Volume 39 Number 3 of the Washington County Historical Societies publication of FLASHBACK 1989 and was supplied by Robert Myers who at that time was working on the Newspaper Project at the University of Arkansas.
The northwestern part of the State abounds in picturesque scenery. The Ozark mountains extend through that section, and divide the cotton region from that in which small grain and Indian corn from the staple productions. Traveling north from Van Buren, on the Arkansas River, a spur of this mountain range must be crossed. This spur is called the Boston mountain, and separates Washington from Crawford county.
Washing county lies north of Boston mountain, having the Cherokee nation immediately on the west. The land is generally fertile and no inconsiderable portion of the county is prairie. In this country there is a remarkable hill, bearing the name which stands at the head of this article. It rises amid a prairie, being about six miles long and from three to four in width. Its greatest height (sic) is one hundred and fifty feet; in some places the ascent is gradual and easy, in others it is rugged and precipitous. The summit is almost level, and the soil is black, and equal in fertility to the celebrated American bottom in Illinois, or the valley of the Nile itself. The growth of timber, on the remarkable hill, is similar to that found in the creek and river bottoms of that vicinity; it is black and white walnut, sassafras, ash, oak, sweet gum, and the largest mulberry trees I have ever seen in any country.
Cane Hill is remarkable for its abundance of clear and beautiful spring water. There are hundreds of springs in and about it. Never did more delicious water burst forth from the bosom of our common mother than these clear, cold springs of Cane Hill. The longest droughts, and the most powerful freshets seem to have no influence either upon the quantity of quality of the water.
Near the center of Cane Hill several springs arise from a gentle eminence, and flow away to different directions in bold streams, which soon unite with others and become considerable, affording never failing water power for machinery at the places of their descent. Several valuable flour mills and one or two cotton factories have been erected there, within the last year or two, and are doing well. At the point where these springs arise are the remains of an ancient fort. A portion of the stone wall still exists, but the greater part has long since been demolished. When I first visited that locality, which was in 1832, two squares of wall were standing. The work was of rough, but substantial masonry, and about a half acre, including several springs, was enclosed. Much labor had been bestowed upon the springs. Huge stone basins, curiously carved, and of shapes and dimensions, were found there, and in the vicinity, by the early settlers.
Daniel Boone, the great pioneer, accompanied by he late Governor Baggs of Missouri, were the first white men who climbed that hill. They sighted it in 1804, or 1805, and gave it the name of the "Black Hill". The Indians then residing there told them that, as far back as their traditions reached, the fort had been there, and they had no definite idea by whom or when it had been built. An oak at least four feet in diameter, standing on a part of the dilapidated wall, and evidently planted since the erection of the wall, bears indisputable evidence of the lapse of several centuries.
It is said that the wild Indians, scattered over the wide West, for ages prior to the coming of the pale face to take away their hunting grounds, were in the habit of holding a yearly council within the ruins of that fort. They resorted thither to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hold consultations relative to their general good. They regarded the old fort as a consecrated place, and thought that they heard the Great Spirit speaking to them, as the winds moaned among the boughs of the mighty trees, or the thunder echoed back its startling peals from the neighboring mountains.
In vain do we ask, 'Who built that fort? What people lived there? When did they flourish? By what means did they become extinct?' There is no voice to respond -- no record to gratify curiosity -- no history to clear away the obscurity that hangs over the whole subject. Certain it is, however, that some people, far more advanced toward civilization than the red man, once had their home here -- these crystal waters once reflected back their images and slaked their thirst, the smoke from these altars once arose amid these groves, and their songs made response to the prowl of the wild wolf. Here, at these springs, councils met and debated grave questions, involving the fate of tribes and nations, and decided whether war or peace should prevail. Here, once lived a race that, like ours, and all others of the varied family of man, were sometimes oppressed with fear, as others, transported with joy; sometimes mourned in adversity, at others rejoiced in prosperity. But they are all gone!
The scene is now changed. The Anglo-Saxon is there, transforming everything by his wondrous touch into images of art and science. Agriculture and commerce now hold undisputed sway, and peace crowns the sylvan shade.
*This article is from Volume 39 Number 3 of the Washington County Historical Societies publication of FLASHBACK 1989 and was supplied by Robert Myers who at that time was working on the Newspaper Project at the University of Arkansas.
The Experience of the T.A. Reynolds Family During the Civil War by Forrest Dutton Poorman
What path does a man take in a civil war when he is 37 years old, married with five children, having served as an officer in the Mexican War of 1846-47 and had lived in the Cane Hill area for the last ten years? His father-in-law, Tandy Kidd, and neighbors had slaves. Yet he had none and harbored strong feelings against fighting so others could keep theirs. Thus Thomas A. Reynolds elected to be loyal to the Union cause.
According to the Act of Congress of March 3, 1871, those citizens loyal to the Union could apply for compensation for any damage and loss they had suffered during the Civil War. To that end in 1873, Thomas Reynolds began securing depositions describing names, places, events and losses that occurred during the war years. These also attempted to establish the fact that Thomas was and had remained loyal to the Union. It is possible this requirement might have had some influence on the various testimonies. However, the depositions by T.A. Reynolds, his wife, Ophelia Ann, his employee, Elizah Bell, employee's wife, Sarah, employee's daughter, Mary Bell, and David Maberry were not sufficient to establish loyalty. In 1877 he submitted additional depositions from Adam J. Reed, Bryant Wallace, and William G. Aikens.
Thomas testified that before 1862 he had been against the secession of Arkansas and had used his influence when he could. He voted against the secession and refused to join the Confederate Army. This political stand caused him to be arrested by Col. Shelby's men and held under guard for 3-4 days. When Federals appeared in Boonsboro (an early name for the Cane Hill area), the Rebels left and Thomas was freed. He stated that he was abused at other times and was told either join the Rebs, leave the country or be killed.
Bryant Wallace was a 62 year old friend. Although their friendship was casual, he had been in the Reynolds's home often. He reported only one war talk with T.A. That took place in the fall, after the August 1861 Wilson Creek battle. During the discussion, Reynolds said, "He had no niggers to be fighting or fussing over. All he had was his place and stock to save. He reckoned the nigger was what they were fighting over and he had no need to be out fighting to save other people's niggers."
In the Spring of 1862, Thomas moved with his wife and children to their 160 acre farm located 6.5 miles northwest of Boonsboro. The Reynolds's farm had 60-80 acres under cultivation by their employee, Elizah Bell, and some hired help. Numerous references were made to the fine quality and quantity of products produced on the farm.
Besides the two-story house, the farm had a smoke house, stable, a second house and a barn. These structures were mentioned in the various depositions. Mrs. Reynolds managed the farm, with the help of Mr. and Mrs. Bell and their daughter, Mary. The three women and the Reynolds' children -- Jerome, 9; Eugene, 7; Nancy, 4; Thomas, 3; and Johanna, 2 -- remained on the farm for some time. A daughter, Lucella, was born in 1864.
Thomas stayed in Boonsboro to take care of his confectionery establishment and he also clerked in his father-in-law's (Tandy Kidd) store until December 1861. When General Blunt brought his Army of the Frontier to Rhea's Mill in November, 1862, Thomas made many trips to the various camps, often staying several days at a time. It is indicated he helped the Unionist with the geography of the area only.
In his deposition, Thomas reported, "A good deal of confectionery and picture stock was taken and destroyed by the Rebels, some $400-$500 worth. I never got a cent for anything taken from me by the Rebels." He had the reputation of being a fine daguerreian artist.
He indicated he did have a brother-in-law, Mortimer Kidd, in the Confederate army. However, he swore that he never talked to him nor ever helped him in any way.
General Blunt had issued property protection papers for Thomas and for the Kidd Estate. Thomas admitted he made copies of the Kidd papers and distributed them to the persons in charge of the widely scattered pieces of property contained in the Estate. For this, General Blunt had him arrested. Thomas went to the General and explained his motive was to see that all concerned employees would have a copy. The General reproved him and he was freed. This gave some indication that Tandy Kidd, although a slave owner, was a union sympathizer.
Adam J. Reed related an incident when two rebels, Gatewood and Parks, came to the Kidd Store where Reynolds was employed. They wanted to buy a harness with Confederate money. Reynolds told Kidd not to take the Confederate money for "it was not worth a damn." The harness was not sold and a fuss grew out of it. The harness was finally taken by force and Reed believed that Kidd's refusal to take the Confederate money was the cause of Kidd's death later at the hands of Perry Parks.
In his deposition, David Maberry said it was common knowledge that the claimant's father-in-law, Tandy Kidd, was branded as a Union man and threatened with the rope. He added the claimant was but a step behind his father-in-law though there wasn't as much said about him.
Ophelia Reynolds experienced one of the first incidents involving the Union Army's activities. She had been riding her mare, when she returned home, removed the saddle and sent the horse to pasture with their other cold. About, sundown, a group of Indian Scouts of Col Phillip's Cherokees rode into the yard. She and Mrs. Sarah Bell ran out and could only watch as the Indians rounded up the two horses, led them to the barn, fed them and rode off. The Reynolds never saw their horses again. Ophelia reported the Indians were all painted and looked very frightful to her. She could not sleep well after that. She rented the farm to Elizah Bell and moved to Boonsboro to live with her widowed stepmother, Nancy E. Kidd.
Later she went to Rhea's Mill, where the Union army had made camp since November 1862, and lodged a complaint with General Blunt. He gave her a receipt for some hay and corn, but she never cashed it and later cold not recall why not. It and all her other papers were lost when the Kidd hom was burned by Jennison's men in 1864.
Soon after the November arrival of Blunt's army at Rhea's Mill, just 1.5 miles east of Reynolds' farm, foraging parties began stripping all the local farms of their food stocks.
Thomas Reynolds admitted he had never done any farm work. Consequently he could not judge the quantity nor quality of his farm's produce and had to rely on his employee, Elizah Bell, to accurately report their losses.
Mr. Bell supported the Union cause and therefore had some threatening enemies. After a year of farming for Thomas, he made the decision to go to Texas for his own safety. His depositions were very descriptive about the foraging activities of the Federal army. Four government wagons arrived at the Reynolds' farm soon after the Union army made camp and were loaded with shucked corn. The next time they came with six or eight wagons each time they took shucked corn. He estimated over three hundred bushels were taken, suing his own wagon capacity as a measure. The hay was stored in a house and it was taken along with some of the first loads of corn. He said the hay filled a six-mule wagon.
Elizah was positive the soldiers took one thousand bundles of fodder. "An Ohio regiment got that. They came to me like gentlemen. I went and helped them load it. There were two stacks of five hundred bundles each." Their officer asked Elizah to save the corn for him, that he would be back with a receipt for both the fodder and the corn. When Bell got back to the house, there was a train of four wagons from a Kansas regiment. They insisted on having the promised corn. When Elizah objected, the officer drew his sword and threatened to kill him if he didn't open the gate. After the four wagons were loaded, Elizah got up on a wagon, trying to see the officer and get a receipt. He was hauled off and the officer said they didn't give receipts to his sort. After that he never tried to stop any soldiers. They just take what they wanted.
Many of the events were described as before or after "the Battle" meaning the December 7, 1862 Battle of Prairie Grove. It was before the battle that a Federal train arrived to take all the hogs on the farm. Nineteen head of pork hogs, being fed in a pen for Mr. Reynolds, were killed. They were at least two years old and ran from two to three hundred pounds when dressed. The soldiers also took or killed nineteen stock hogs that weighed between sixty and eighty pounds each. They killed the sow, leaving her to waste and took all her two-month old piglets. Mrs. Reynolds, Sarah, and Elizabeth had to stand by and watch the slaughter as live and dead hogs were hauled off in the forage wagons.
A few days after the battle, Col. Richardson's Missouri regiment camped sixty to seventy yards from the Reynolds' house for almost a week. The soldiers discovered a barrel and a half of molasses in the smoke house. They ate most of the nineteen young hogs and gorged themselves on the half barrel of molasses. They made themselves very sick. The full barrel and what was left of the other were loaded on the forage wagon and taken to Gen. Blunt's camp.
At the same time, they came for wheat and took it to Rhea's Mill to be ground. Elizah's estimate was four sugar hogsheads full (each held twenty bushels). They poured the wheat loose into the wagons.
"The potatoes were taken by the 6th Kansas Calvary before the Battle. The men carried the potatoes off in their blankets, probably twenty bushels. The potatoes were hilled up in the garden and they took all of them."
When Mr. Bell left the farm in the fall of 1863, he left a crop of twenty acres of #1 wheat, estimating a yield of twenty bushels an acre. He also left ten acres of corn, an exceptional stand, yielding about twenty-five bushels an acre. The Federals drove one of their wagons into the field and took all the corn. Mrs. Bell had taken one bushel upstairs. That was all that was saved.
Wagon trains also came from Fayetteville, for Rhea's Mill was on the road to that town and some came from Fort Gibson, Oklahoma.
Adam Reed had been a close friend of Thomas for over twenty-four years. He had joined Co. Be, 1st Arkansas Calvary and was stationed in Fayetteville. Early in 1862, because of his Union support, he had to "take to the mountains and went up to my mother's, twelve miles from here, where I remained until I went into the Federal Army in October, 1862."
Many of the men in Reed's post were old friends of Thomas Reynolds having been neighbors in Cane Hill. Reed suggested that if Reynolds needed additional verification of his loyalty, he was sure Samuel K. Reed, John R. Reed, several of the Larrimores and Kings would be only too happy to testify.
Fearing for his life, foe he had received such threats, Reynolds visited Reed one day in the Spring of 1863. His old friend and neighbor, Wesley King, Joined Adam Reed in advising him not to go home, but to try to get employment on the post in Fayetteville. When he was not successful in that plan, he decided to go to Van Buren.
Some of Thomas' problems were solved when he obtained a clerking job with the Dixon-Callahan Store in Van Buren. This store was located across the street from the Federal Military Post. He made friends with William G. Aikens, a soldier in Co. G., 1st Arkansas Cavalry. In his deposition, Aikens vouched for Reynolds' loyalty to the Union. He said he saw him often at his job and as a civilian at the Military Post.
In May, 1864, Thomas was able to get a Federal train to move his family to Van Buren and they stayed with him there until they felt it safe to return to Washington County.
The depositions obtained from former soldiers in 1877 were sufficient to satisfy the Commission of Claims that Thomas Reynolds had remained a loyal citizen of the Union and could submit his claims. his itemized losses were: 75 bushels of what $75.00, 300 bushels of corn $150.00, 500 binds of fodder $10.00, 1000 pounds hay $10.00, 30 gallons molasses $30.00, 4845 pounds of pork $290.70, 1 bay mare eight years old $100.00, one young horse $50.00, ten bushels Irish potatoes $10.00, 425 bushels of wheat $425.00, 250 bushels corn $250.00 and 400 pounds of pork $2400. Reynolds submitted a claim of losses amounting to $1,424.70. The Commission ruled some articles were over charged and that others were placed on the list on account of pillage and depreciation. After these deductions, Thomas Reynolds was awarded $560.00 by A.A. Aides, J.B.B. Howell and O. Ferries, Commission of Claims on December 5, 1877.
*Taken from Volume 44, Number 2 of the Washington County Historical Society's publication Flashback. May 1994.
According to the Act of Congress of March 3, 1871, those citizens loyal to the Union could apply for compensation for any damage and loss they had suffered during the Civil War. To that end in 1873, Thomas Reynolds began securing depositions describing names, places, events and losses that occurred during the war years. These also attempted to establish the fact that Thomas was and had remained loyal to the Union. It is possible this requirement might have had some influence on the various testimonies. However, the depositions by T.A. Reynolds, his wife, Ophelia Ann, his employee, Elizah Bell, employee's wife, Sarah, employee's daughter, Mary Bell, and David Maberry were not sufficient to establish loyalty. In 1877 he submitted additional depositions from Adam J. Reed, Bryant Wallace, and William G. Aikens.
Thomas testified that before 1862 he had been against the secession of Arkansas and had used his influence when he could. He voted against the secession and refused to join the Confederate Army. This political stand caused him to be arrested by Col. Shelby's men and held under guard for 3-4 days. When Federals appeared in Boonsboro (an early name for the Cane Hill area), the Rebels left and Thomas was freed. He stated that he was abused at other times and was told either join the Rebs, leave the country or be killed.
Bryant Wallace was a 62 year old friend. Although their friendship was casual, he had been in the Reynolds's home often. He reported only one war talk with T.A. That took place in the fall, after the August 1861 Wilson Creek battle. During the discussion, Reynolds said, "He had no niggers to be fighting or fussing over. All he had was his place and stock to save. He reckoned the nigger was what they were fighting over and he had no need to be out fighting to save other people's niggers."
In the Spring of 1862, Thomas moved with his wife and children to their 160 acre farm located 6.5 miles northwest of Boonsboro. The Reynolds's farm had 60-80 acres under cultivation by their employee, Elizah Bell, and some hired help. Numerous references were made to the fine quality and quantity of products produced on the farm.
Besides the two-story house, the farm had a smoke house, stable, a second house and a barn. These structures were mentioned in the various depositions. Mrs. Reynolds managed the farm, with the help of Mr. and Mrs. Bell and their daughter, Mary. The three women and the Reynolds' children -- Jerome, 9; Eugene, 7; Nancy, 4; Thomas, 3; and Johanna, 2 -- remained on the farm for some time. A daughter, Lucella, was born in 1864.
Thomas stayed in Boonsboro to take care of his confectionery establishment and he also clerked in his father-in-law's (Tandy Kidd) store until December 1861. When General Blunt brought his Army of the Frontier to Rhea's Mill in November, 1862, Thomas made many trips to the various camps, often staying several days at a time. It is indicated he helped the Unionist with the geography of the area only.
In his deposition, Thomas reported, "A good deal of confectionery and picture stock was taken and destroyed by the Rebels, some $400-$500 worth. I never got a cent for anything taken from me by the Rebels." He had the reputation of being a fine daguerreian artist.
He indicated he did have a brother-in-law, Mortimer Kidd, in the Confederate army. However, he swore that he never talked to him nor ever helped him in any way.
General Blunt had issued property protection papers for Thomas and for the Kidd Estate. Thomas admitted he made copies of the Kidd papers and distributed them to the persons in charge of the widely scattered pieces of property contained in the Estate. For this, General Blunt had him arrested. Thomas went to the General and explained his motive was to see that all concerned employees would have a copy. The General reproved him and he was freed. This gave some indication that Tandy Kidd, although a slave owner, was a union sympathizer.
Adam J. Reed related an incident when two rebels, Gatewood and Parks, came to the Kidd Store where Reynolds was employed. They wanted to buy a harness with Confederate money. Reynolds told Kidd not to take the Confederate money for "it was not worth a damn." The harness was not sold and a fuss grew out of it. The harness was finally taken by force and Reed believed that Kidd's refusal to take the Confederate money was the cause of Kidd's death later at the hands of Perry Parks.
In his deposition, David Maberry said it was common knowledge that the claimant's father-in-law, Tandy Kidd, was branded as a Union man and threatened with the rope. He added the claimant was but a step behind his father-in-law though there wasn't as much said about him.
Ophelia Reynolds experienced one of the first incidents involving the Union Army's activities. She had been riding her mare, when she returned home, removed the saddle and sent the horse to pasture with their other cold. About, sundown, a group of Indian Scouts of Col Phillip's Cherokees rode into the yard. She and Mrs. Sarah Bell ran out and could only watch as the Indians rounded up the two horses, led them to the barn, fed them and rode off. The Reynolds never saw their horses again. Ophelia reported the Indians were all painted and looked very frightful to her. She could not sleep well after that. She rented the farm to Elizah Bell and moved to Boonsboro to live with her widowed stepmother, Nancy E. Kidd.
Later she went to Rhea's Mill, where the Union army had made camp since November 1862, and lodged a complaint with General Blunt. He gave her a receipt for some hay and corn, but she never cashed it and later cold not recall why not. It and all her other papers were lost when the Kidd hom was burned by Jennison's men in 1864.
Soon after the November arrival of Blunt's army at Rhea's Mill, just 1.5 miles east of Reynolds' farm, foraging parties began stripping all the local farms of their food stocks.
Thomas Reynolds admitted he had never done any farm work. Consequently he could not judge the quantity nor quality of his farm's produce and had to rely on his employee, Elizah Bell, to accurately report their losses.
Mr. Bell supported the Union cause and therefore had some threatening enemies. After a year of farming for Thomas, he made the decision to go to Texas for his own safety. His depositions were very descriptive about the foraging activities of the Federal army. Four government wagons arrived at the Reynolds' farm soon after the Union army made camp and were loaded with shucked corn. The next time they came with six or eight wagons each time they took shucked corn. He estimated over three hundred bushels were taken, suing his own wagon capacity as a measure. The hay was stored in a house and it was taken along with some of the first loads of corn. He said the hay filled a six-mule wagon.
Elizah was positive the soldiers took one thousand bundles of fodder. "An Ohio regiment got that. They came to me like gentlemen. I went and helped them load it. There were two stacks of five hundred bundles each." Their officer asked Elizah to save the corn for him, that he would be back with a receipt for both the fodder and the corn. When Bell got back to the house, there was a train of four wagons from a Kansas regiment. They insisted on having the promised corn. When Elizah objected, the officer drew his sword and threatened to kill him if he didn't open the gate. After the four wagons were loaded, Elizah got up on a wagon, trying to see the officer and get a receipt. He was hauled off and the officer said they didn't give receipts to his sort. After that he never tried to stop any soldiers. They just take what they wanted.
Many of the events were described as before or after "the Battle" meaning the December 7, 1862 Battle of Prairie Grove. It was before the battle that a Federal train arrived to take all the hogs on the farm. Nineteen head of pork hogs, being fed in a pen for Mr. Reynolds, were killed. They were at least two years old and ran from two to three hundred pounds when dressed. The soldiers also took or killed nineteen stock hogs that weighed between sixty and eighty pounds each. They killed the sow, leaving her to waste and took all her two-month old piglets. Mrs. Reynolds, Sarah, and Elizabeth had to stand by and watch the slaughter as live and dead hogs were hauled off in the forage wagons.
A few days after the battle, Col. Richardson's Missouri regiment camped sixty to seventy yards from the Reynolds' house for almost a week. The soldiers discovered a barrel and a half of molasses in the smoke house. They ate most of the nineteen young hogs and gorged themselves on the half barrel of molasses. They made themselves very sick. The full barrel and what was left of the other were loaded on the forage wagon and taken to Gen. Blunt's camp.
At the same time, they came for wheat and took it to Rhea's Mill to be ground. Elizah's estimate was four sugar hogsheads full (each held twenty bushels). They poured the wheat loose into the wagons.
"The potatoes were taken by the 6th Kansas Calvary before the Battle. The men carried the potatoes off in their blankets, probably twenty bushels. The potatoes were hilled up in the garden and they took all of them."
When Mr. Bell left the farm in the fall of 1863, he left a crop of twenty acres of #1 wheat, estimating a yield of twenty bushels an acre. He also left ten acres of corn, an exceptional stand, yielding about twenty-five bushels an acre. The Federals drove one of their wagons into the field and took all the corn. Mrs. Bell had taken one bushel upstairs. That was all that was saved.
Wagon trains also came from Fayetteville, for Rhea's Mill was on the road to that town and some came from Fort Gibson, Oklahoma.
Adam Reed had been a close friend of Thomas for over twenty-four years. He had joined Co. Be, 1st Arkansas Calvary and was stationed in Fayetteville. Early in 1862, because of his Union support, he had to "take to the mountains and went up to my mother's, twelve miles from here, where I remained until I went into the Federal Army in October, 1862."
Many of the men in Reed's post were old friends of Thomas Reynolds having been neighbors in Cane Hill. Reed suggested that if Reynolds needed additional verification of his loyalty, he was sure Samuel K. Reed, John R. Reed, several of the Larrimores and Kings would be only too happy to testify.
Fearing for his life, foe he had received such threats, Reynolds visited Reed one day in the Spring of 1863. His old friend and neighbor, Wesley King, Joined Adam Reed in advising him not to go home, but to try to get employment on the post in Fayetteville. When he was not successful in that plan, he decided to go to Van Buren.
Some of Thomas' problems were solved when he obtained a clerking job with the Dixon-Callahan Store in Van Buren. This store was located across the street from the Federal Military Post. He made friends with William G. Aikens, a soldier in Co. G., 1st Arkansas Cavalry. In his deposition, Aikens vouched for Reynolds' loyalty to the Union. He said he saw him often at his job and as a civilian at the Military Post.
In May, 1864, Thomas was able to get a Federal train to move his family to Van Buren and they stayed with him there until they felt it safe to return to Washington County.
The depositions obtained from former soldiers in 1877 were sufficient to satisfy the Commission of Claims that Thomas Reynolds had remained a loyal citizen of the Union and could submit his claims. his itemized losses were: 75 bushels of what $75.00, 300 bushels of corn $150.00, 500 binds of fodder $10.00, 1000 pounds hay $10.00, 30 gallons molasses $30.00, 4845 pounds of pork $290.70, 1 bay mare eight years old $100.00, one young horse $50.00, ten bushels Irish potatoes $10.00, 425 bushels of wheat $425.00, 250 bushels corn $250.00 and 400 pounds of pork $2400. Reynolds submitted a claim of losses amounting to $1,424.70. The Commission ruled some articles were over charged and that others were placed on the list on account of pillage and depreciation. After these deductions, Thomas Reynolds was awarded $560.00 by A.A. Aides, J.B.B. Howell and O. Ferries, Commission of Claims on December 5, 1877.
*Taken from Volume 44, Number 2 of the Washington County Historical Society's publication Flashback. May 1994.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
The Hanging Of Maston Gregg by M. H. Hudson
Perhaps the most terrifying ordeal of the Civil War years for the civilian residents of Northwest Arkansas was not the raging battles fought there, nor the foraging and plundering of the opposing armies, nor the hunger and hardship and sickness and pestilence that was all about, but a much more malevolent menace known by the whispered name of Bushwhackers.
These human vultures ran in packs, robbing, murdering, maiming, abusing, and there was no authority to stop them. All guns and ammunition of the civilian population had been confiscated by the armies of both sides, as first the North and then the South, Union and Confederate occupied the land. The people were defenseless against the marauding bands of deserters and slackers ("scalawags"), and the armies were so thoroughly engaged in fighting each other they had no time for police duty.
Boys and old men left at home or wantonly shot down or beaten to death senselessly, and women and children were tortured and made to give up all their food and other necessities to these outlaws.
News that a band of bushwhackers was in a community spread quickly and struck terror to the hearts of the residents. Their frantic efforts to hide their horses, cows, and food usually proved fruitless. If a bushwhackers spy had not watched as the items were hidden, a sizzling coal of fire held against her baby's body quickly brought a mother to provide everything asked of her, if she had it to give. Or the grandfather might be tortured instead. Nothing, not a single thing, was sacred to these jackals.
Such was the plight of the people of Northwest Arkansas and 1864, on the day a gang of bushwhackers surprised Maston Gregg in his apple orchard on White River near Butler Ford in Washington County, and hanged him to one of his own carefully nurtured apple trees.
In time, Maston Gregg was to become the father in law of Martha Carolyn ("Mattie") Quillin, youngest daughter of John Quillin when she married Maston's son John Henry. But he didn't know it then. In fact, he never had a chance to know it.
On this day in 1864, Springdale, Arkansas, did not exist. The crossroads there had not yet taken on the name of Shiloh, its first name. The main center of gravity then was out east, on White River at Butler Ford and Gregg Store and post office. The latter was owned by Maston's brother, Albert.
On the day the bushwhackers caught Maston, they had come especially to see him. He was not yet 50, but in ill health. He was fairly prosperous and it had been rumored he had some money hidden near his home. Federal money. This was what the bushwhackers were after. And when Maston did not produce it in spite of their tortures, they hanged him and rode away to let him die. Without a doubt, they thought him dead when they left.
From his hiding place in the house, Maston's 12 year old son, John Henry, watched in horror as the bandits abused his father, then hanged him to die. As they rode away, John Henry rushed out, frantic and heedless of his own safety, climbed the tree and cut his father's limp body down.
Then his mother and sisters came out to help and they worked to revive the tortured man. His breathing started up again, and even before he was fully conscious they were struggling toward the house with him. Once inside, they hid him under a folding table and made him as comfortable as possible. Terror gripped them all, because they expected the bushwhackers gang back at any time, and they knew the thieves would demand to see the body.
But the day of terror wore on and passed, and Maston lived through it and into the night. Next day he moved his family nearer to Fayetteville, where the presence of the occupying army discouraged the bushwhackers. Though there were almost weekly skirmishes in the vicinity of that village, it was safer there than out on the river. Housing was scarce, so he rented a room in a log house, now known as the Old Hale House. It was located on the Old Wire Road to Fayetteville.
Like John Quillin and others, he then joined the army and remained there for safety until the end of the war. After it was safe to do so, he moved his family back to the farm on the river, but nothing was ever right again in his life. Toward the close of the war, his son Wesley 20 and died. Then Cynthia, the mother of his 10 children, sickened and died. Three years after the war was over, Maston Gregg himself was dead. By natural causes.
When the war ended and civilian authority was restored, the things called bushwhackers disbanded and slunk into anonymity. Most of them probably survived and raised offspring, and even now, on a dark night in an old apple orchard on White River, if you think about it for a while, you can get the feeling it could happen again.
These human vultures ran in packs, robbing, murdering, maiming, abusing, and there was no authority to stop them. All guns and ammunition of the civilian population had been confiscated by the armies of both sides, as first the North and then the South, Union and Confederate occupied the land. The people were defenseless against the marauding bands of deserters and slackers ("scalawags"), and the armies were so thoroughly engaged in fighting each other they had no time for police duty.
Boys and old men left at home or wantonly shot down or beaten to death senselessly, and women and children were tortured and made to give up all their food and other necessities to these outlaws.
News that a band of bushwhackers was in a community spread quickly and struck terror to the hearts of the residents. Their frantic efforts to hide their horses, cows, and food usually proved fruitless. If a bushwhackers spy had not watched as the items were hidden, a sizzling coal of fire held against her baby's body quickly brought a mother to provide everything asked of her, if she had it to give. Or the grandfather might be tortured instead. Nothing, not a single thing, was sacred to these jackals.
Such was the plight of the people of Northwest Arkansas and 1864, on the day a gang of bushwhackers surprised Maston Gregg in his apple orchard on White River near Butler Ford in Washington County, and hanged him to one of his own carefully nurtured apple trees.
In time, Maston Gregg was to become the father in law of Martha Carolyn ("Mattie") Quillin, youngest daughter of John Quillin when she married Maston's son John Henry. But he didn't know it then. In fact, he never had a chance to know it.
On this day in 1864, Springdale, Arkansas, did not exist. The crossroads there had not yet taken on the name of Shiloh, its first name. The main center of gravity then was out east, on White River at Butler Ford and Gregg Store and post office. The latter was owned by Maston's brother, Albert.
On the day the bushwhackers caught Maston, they had come especially to see him. He was not yet 50, but in ill health. He was fairly prosperous and it had been rumored he had some money hidden near his home. Federal money. This was what the bushwhackers were after. And when Maston did not produce it in spite of their tortures, they hanged him and rode away to let him die. Without a doubt, they thought him dead when they left.
From his hiding place in the house, Maston's 12 year old son, John Henry, watched in horror as the bandits abused his father, then hanged him to die. As they rode away, John Henry rushed out, frantic and heedless of his own safety, climbed the tree and cut his father's limp body down.
Then his mother and sisters came out to help and they worked to revive the tortured man. His breathing started up again, and even before he was fully conscious they were struggling toward the house with him. Once inside, they hid him under a folding table and made him as comfortable as possible. Terror gripped them all, because they expected the bushwhackers gang back at any time, and they knew the thieves would demand to see the body.
But the day of terror wore on and passed, and Maston lived through it and into the night. Next day he moved his family nearer to Fayetteville, where the presence of the occupying army discouraged the bushwhackers. Though there were almost weekly skirmishes in the vicinity of that village, it was safer there than out on the river. Housing was scarce, so he rented a room in a log house, now known as the Old Hale House. It was located on the Old Wire Road to Fayetteville.
Like John Quillin and others, he then joined the army and remained there for safety until the end of the war. After it was safe to do so, he moved his family back to the farm on the river, but nothing was ever right again in his life. Toward the close of the war, his son Wesley 20 and died. Then Cynthia, the mother of his 10 children, sickened and died. Three years after the war was over, Maston Gregg himself was dead. By natural causes.
When the war ended and civilian authority was restored, the things called bushwhackers disbanded and slunk into anonymity. Most of them probably survived and raised offspring, and even now, on a dark night in an old apple orchard on White River, if you think about it for a while, you can get the feeling it could happen again.
Late 1800's - Early 1900's Memories of Fayetteville by Wythe Walker
Dear Walt (Walt J. Lemke - The Editor of FLASHBACK):
Where your house stands (231 E. Dickson St.) or immediately back of it, was a large vacant lot. Some way or other, there was also a dirt road attached to Dickson street which ran along the creek, past the "Big Spout Spring" ended through Tincup, the colored section. This lot, back of your home, was an area where we played cowboy Indian. There was a rumor that had buried treasure was there. At night, grownups did dig!
Gunter's pasture, where the circuits used to perform, near the old Gunter house, was another favorite playground. Believe it or not, when I was some 8 or 9 years old, we found a freshly dug a hole, neatly dug with square sides. Something, a chest or a box, had been removed. Certainly it's contents were not Spanish gold nor silver plate. I imagine nothing much, but hidden during the Civil War, noted by slaves and subsequently dug up by their descendants or relatives of the owners. Dad used to laugh about people digging around the kneer house on East Mountain. It appears that old Judge Walker had buried lead bars for casting bullets, and the word got out that it was gold bars!
Gunter House. (Photo by Walter J. Lemke)
Did I ever tell you that those shallow ditches around the Walker and other old graveyards contained the legs and arms and bodies of the dead from Prairie Grove and possibly Pea Ridge? Dad was there when they dug them up. He said many had a small Bible on them, and that he jumped in the trench and found a coin and was called by a digger "a young grave robber." Dad was born 1867, I recall. Maybe he referred to someone else, as I'd have to look up the time when the Confederate cemetery became operative.
Another--do you recall the Winkelman murder? I do, clearly. I and Byrnes and Phil Williams (Nathan Boone Williams' son) war "camping" in a tent a block south of my home on a vacant area. Mother sent someone down to tell us to get home, but quick! We did.
The Winkelman home was about one block south of the street which dead ends on College and one west of Block. Mrs. Emma Hodge's daughter entered the home, opened a closet door and her mother fell into her arms. Mrs. Winkelman--I remember her and Uncle John Winkleman--carried her money in a bustle. Later, Mrs. Winkleman, Ben's mother, remodeled the place and it was the Kappa Alpha fraternity home. I always felt leery when I'd pass that closet!
Anyhow, there were arrested one Red Fox and one Mr. Sartin. Sartin hanged himself in jail somewhere, possibly Van Buren. Dad prosecutor Red Fox and lost. Some 8 or 10 years ago I read of Red Fox's trial as defended by an Oklahoma lawyer who had been a boy in Fayetteville, in TRUE magazine. I wrote Buzz Fawcett of TRUE and talked with the author of the story. Dad always had a strong opinion as to who actually instigated or served in this murder other than those arrested. I won't mention names.
Everybody in Fayetteville said the hour "Constable" could hit a running rabbit with his pistol. They all said and I never believed it. I was growing on 13 and I knew how hard it was to hit a running rabbit with the 12-gauge shotgun. But I never argued with them or disputed their words as I was having my share of trouble in just growing up and if they wanted to believe what they said I couldn't change their minds. And besides, I didn't think they believe what they said.
But our "Constable" could handle a pistol and after he killed Josh Thompson, people said they had said that Constable Sam was hell with that .44. I didn't think that killing Josh proved much of anything. Any man hiding, with the law backing him up, could have killed old Josh.
I never knew much about Josh Thompson except that he was a colored man who looked old to a little boy and that he did odd jobs around town and would cook and row the boat when the family when a camping.
Word got around the school that Josh had been killed by the Constable and at noon most of us ran up to the furniture store and there lay Josh. To this day I don't know why the let us in, but there lay Josh, and he wasn't a color man anymore because his face in death was as white as the palms of his hands when they were alive.
Somebody had stuck yellow lead pencils on each side of his head just above his years, to show the path of the bullet. Some grownups said, "Josh must have been stooping down to pick up that sack of chops when the Constable threw down on him, and Josh never knew what hit him"
Right back the Gilbreath and Taylor's grocery store on Center Street was where Josh died. He was stealing a tow sack full of chops out of the shed in the back of the grocery store when the Constable killed him. It was in wintertime and the pool of blood was hazing over kind of, like the frosting on baking shop cupcakes. The sack of chops was still there.
When the people came to see Josh dead, somebody said, "We'll have to have somebody carry the news to Josh's wife" --whose name was Addy. Embus, a colored man, was there and he said he would and they told him to break the news gently to Addy. Josh's death was the first time I ever learned that there are those who will hurt the living through the dead as salve to their smug pride of still being above ground.
For a long time word was said that Embus walked by Addy's house and yelled "Addy!" and that Addy called back, "Yes, Embus? " And that Embus hollered, "Addy, they done killed Josh!"
Embus, although I wasn't with him, never said any such thing. I never knew a colored person who in time of trouble, and God knows they have had their share of it, who wasn't kind and gentle, and I knew Embus and I knew he could not ever yell such words.
But it made a good story. It made a very good story. The town loafers, when the dog days came, would sit on the rock wall caddy corner from the Courthouse and when the heat dried up their talk, somebody would slap his thigh and come up with "Addy, they done killed old Josh!" It was always good for a laugh.
I think most of the town was shamed that anybody had to steal a sack of chops to feed his few chickens. Some said they did not know the Josh was light fingered and had been warned, but most were shamed. The only ones who said that Josh got his just dues were those who had to feel superior to Josh as there was no one else they could feel superior to who was still alive.
Some years later I came back home and was asked to go out on a picnic with a crowd who were several years younger. There came a lull in the talk. Some young lady, to break the Paz said, "Addy, they done killed Josh!" Everybody laughed and the talking started all over again. I asked what was the meaning of the saying and they told me it was just a pointless thing that everybody said when nobody had anything to say.
I'm not leveling a judgment on a town of good people, nor on a good constable, nor on a thief. I just don't believe that any man should be killed over a six-bit tow-sack full of chops.
-J. Wythe Walker
**Taken from the Washington County Historical Society's publication FLASHBACK Vol. XVI, No. 4, October, 1966
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Mitchell and Rutherford Letters 1859-1908 (?) Part Two
The next four letters give us a view of life during the Civil War. Jane's brother, Alfred Mitchell, was held at Johnson's Island at Sandusky, Ohio. The first two letters of this group are from Alfred to his sister Jane in California. The next letter is to Jane from her sister in Cane Hill. It was signed "Annie White" -- apparently though, it is the same sister who signs other letters as Nancy. I (Marian Carter Ledgerwood - 1964) have not identified B. D Moody who wrote the fourth letter, from Johnson's Island to Jane Mitchell Rutherford.
Alfred's Letter One:
Johnson's Island - Sandusky, Ohio
Dear, Sister Jane, September 7, 1863
I wrote you on the receipt of your letter of the 14th of July. Weeks and months come and go, but exchange comes not, nor do we go to "Dixie". It is now very uncertain whether we remain here much longer. The Commissioners of Exchanges have met and may agree upon some means of releasing us soon. I have no news of importance. I wrote to Mrs. Laura Baxley (?) last month to see if I couldn't get some word from home. The Federals had again reoccupied Fayetteville and she knew nothing from Washington County. She was well. Mr. Baxley went to Texas in Feb. '62. I suppose with his negroes.
I employ my time here in studying the French language. I have a splendid teacher and make some progress. If our cause fail it may be useful to me. I should like very much to get another letter from you before I am exchanged. I shall probably write again before leaving. Give my love to Mr. Rutherford and the children.
Affectionately yours, Alfred Mitchell
Alfred's Letter Two:
Johnson's Island
Dear Sister Jane, July 17, 1864
A week ago I received your kind letter of the 13th of June. You and Nan and the girls of Cane Hill have almost overwhelmed me with letters. That Greenback you sent came all right and I have again to thank you. But the last two papers you sent failed to reach me. The kindness of that "such a pretty girl" is certainly appreciated highly. (Indecipherable) - I better send her a pretty ring or something of prison-make. Since you weigh 150, I am afraid you can't wear that ring I sent you. You keep talking about your "little" ring. If it is too small let me know. Johnson's Island changeth not except that a few recruits occasionally come in from the West or from Joe Johnson. You ask after Mr. Crawford's folks. Newt is a Lieut. in the company I belong to. He is with Gen'l Dockery's cavalry. Will belongs to Price's army and to Capt. (Cash's) Company. By the way I hear that Earle is major of the Regiment now and that Brother Jim is Capt. of the Company instead of being A.T.M. Can't learn how it is exactly. Isaac Buchanan is dead. Will and Jim B. belong to Earle's Co. Pleas was in another company in Wash. County. John Davis, Mary Boatwright's husband is dead. All hopes of exchange has "played". M love to Mr. R. and all friends.
Your brother, Alfred Mitchell
Letter No. 3 from "Annie White"
Cane Hill, Aug. 15, 1864
My dear Sister-
We have never received but (one) letter from you directed to us. Al sent us one that you had written to him -- dated in May and we have also heard several times through John Caldwell's letters -- he sends them to mother. It is a great satisfaction to hear from you anyway -- but we had so much rather have letters that are directed to us. I know that you have written to us. Hattie Fergerson saw a letter in the office that she knew was from you. The postmark was Wyandotte. But when we sent there was no letters for us.
Dear Jane, so many things happen and things have changed so during this cruel war that I hardly know ho to begin or close a letter to one that I would like to write so much. I wrote you a long long letter in May - and told you all the sad particulars of our dear lost brother. I wrote you everything but I fear you never received it. We are all well and getting on remarkable well considering these dreadful times. We have plenty to eat and wear and have had ever since this cruel war began. We have never been robbed like some. Our acquaintance in the Federal army have treated us kindly - and we them in the same way. Two years ago they come here and killed a fine horse of mine, the one bro. Geo. left me. They cut up considerably. That same time they took five large wagon loads of corn from us and a good many other things. Last winter me and John hauled our corn that we had to spare to Fayetteville and sold it to them. I bought a good many things that we needed - besides we made enough to send our dear brother that is in prison some money. We sent him $12, he only got seven. We sent a few dollars at a time. We were very sorry to hear that he didn't get that you sent him. I am afraid that he will be confined there for a long time yet. We can hear nothing of a general exchange. The two governments can't agree on that point. The Federals wants the Confeds. to exchange negroes for white men. The south won't do that, too humiliating. The last letter we had from Al was the 10th of July. Him and Will were in excellent health. Jim is Quartermaster in Col. Crawford's regt. Col C. is from the southern part of the state. Will is Ordnancemaster. They were below Little Rock. They expected to move north in a short time and we have heard that Price was near the Rock and that they were skirmishing daily - and a general engagement was expected. I expect the report is true. I dread the result, even if Price should be victorious. They are strongly fortified and their gunboats are to be dreaded. But the Confeds have made way with a good many of them. They have been fighting at Ft. Smith. Gen. M. Cooper (and?) Stand Waite forces are at Scullyville 15 miles from Ft. Smith. They have killed and captured the 6th and 14th ------regiments and captured a great many horses and wagons. I can't tell how these things will terminate.
Our country up here is full of gurillars and what the Federals call Bushwackers. We don't call them that for it is very seldom that they shoot from the bushes - they come out and fight them openly. Our good old quiet Cane Hill has got a dreadful name among the Feds, because they say we harbor so many Rebels - But Rebs are like Feds - they go where they please. But the times are in a dreadful state. Today was a week ago Jim Shannon was hauled by here a corpse - he was a Rebel and was killed in Mountain Township by the Feds. Today Jeff Sawyer was hauled by here. He was killed by the Rebels - he was a Federal soldier. Such are the solemn scenes that occur frequently. Last week the southern men attacked a train going from Fayetteville to Fort Smith - with the mail and three wagons loaded with goods - they killed 30 of them, captured their wagons and teams - and divided their captured property among themselves and their families. We don't accept any captured goods - we can make out without them. They go calico domestic, shoes, coffee, tobacco, raisins, candy, oysters, sardines and many other things that they needed.
I have not told you half that I wish to. Be careful what you write. Mary sends her love to the little one. John sends his love to all of you. Give my love to every person in Cal. that I ever saw.
Annie White
B.D. Moody Letter:
Johnson's Island, O.
Dear Jane - Sept. 15, 1864
I have not heard a word from you since your last letter of the 18th July which reached me three weeks ago. As I have just heard from Home and the boys I write to you anyway. Nan's letter was of the 24th August and she had a letter from Jim of the 26th July. All were well. Jim was Quartermaster (my old position) of Col Crawford's Regt. Will belongs still to Col. F.R. Earle's Regt. No other news. We are all pretty well here. The living however is harder, rations are smaller than at any time previous to this. Our prospects too for exchange are still more gloomy than ever, and to the war I can no see no end. I however live in hopes of some lucky turn in the fortunes of war. There is transpiring around this monotonous place but few things of interest. Today about one hundred Confederate privates from Camp Chase came in. Poor brave fellows. I feel like embracing every one of them, so much did they remind me of Dixie and Dixie's Army. This reinforcements swells our numbers here to about 2500. Of these about 2300 are Confederate officers, about 70 or 80 citizens and the rest enlisted men. there are also two negroes here who have followed their masters through all the "ups and downs" of war. I am sorry to tell you that many of our privileges have been cut off. Our (undecipherable) is not allowed now to sell provision except upon Surgeon's Certificate, and our friends are prohibited from sending us clothing and provisions, except it be our near relations. We can write but two letters per week. Nan has received but one letter from you. Your brother will write when he receives a letter from you.
Yours truly, B. D. Moody
** Taken from Washington County Historical Society's publication FLASHBACK Vol. XIV, No. 4, October, 1964 pages 3-6
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Mitchell and Rutherford Letters 1859-1908 (?) Part One
In mid 1964, a Washington County Historical Society correspondent from California went through an old trunk, which was stored behind some other things in the barn. In this trunk were quite a few old family letters, dating back as far as 1859, some written from Cane Hill, Ark. There was so much of interest, historically and genealogically, that this correspondent gave the WCHS permission to edit them for publication. It makes one wonder -- how many trunks in attics or barns contain old letters which might hold the very information some of us are seeking so desperately!
Having known nothing of the Mitchell family of Cane Hill, it was interesting to piece together bits of information from these letters, census, Goodspeed's "History of Northwest Arkansas", as well as back numbers of FLASHBACK -- and emerge with a fairly complete picture of the family. Later, a perusal of the book, "The Mitchell Family", by Homer Rawlins Mitchell, Grace E. Mitchell, and Mrs. Laura Emery (1952) yielded further information on this family.
James Mitchell (b. ca. 1793, Ky.) married Mary A. Webber (b. ca. 1806, Ga.) ca. 1825 in Lincoln Co., Tenn. They moved to Cane Hill, Ark. in 1830. They became the parents of six sons and three daughters. James Mitchell died 13 Aug. 1860; his wife died in 1882. Their children included:
- George Mitchell (b. ca. 1826, Tenn.; d. ca. 1859, Texas), Married Sarah Cox in Washington Co., Ark. 6 July 1848.
- Nancy Mitchell (b. 23 June 1828, Tenn.; was living 1908) married in Cane Hill 22 Nov. 1866, as his second wife, William Pierson Crawford. They had two children: William Alfred Crawford and Mary Lou Crawford.
- James Mitchell (b. 8 May 1833; d. June 1902) married Elizabeth (Lizzie) Latta in Washington Co., Ark. 31 Jan. 1860. He became a school teacher at age 16; was deputy surveyor 1855-1859; elected to legislature 1860; became a Captain in the Confederate Army; was professor in Cane Hill College 1866-1874 and then was professor at Arkansas University 1874-1876. He was editor-in-chief of the Arkansas Democrat at Little Rock after 1876, and in 1893 was appointed postmaster at Little Rock by President Cleveland. He had 8 children.
- William Mitchell (b. 10 May 1834, Cane Hill; d. 20 Dec. 1914, Texas) married in Washington Co., Ark. 1 Dec. 1858, Josephine Lewis. He served in the Confederate Army in Co. B, Brooks Regt. He was county surveyor in 1889. He had 7 children, all born in Washington Co., Ark.
- Margaret Jane Mitchell (b. 25 May 1835 or 1836; d. 1912) married in Washington Co., Ark. John Tipton Rutherford of California. They had 8 children, all born in California.
- Alfred Mitchell (b. 18 Jan 1838; d. 10 April 1894) married 26 Feb. 1872 Mrs. Amelia (Summers) Russell of New Madrid, Mo. He taught school in Ark., Mo., Tenn. and N. Car. He had three children.
- Roderick Mitchell (b. ca. 1840; d. 6 Dec. 1862 in the Battle of Prairie Grove).
- Mary Mitchell, (b. ca. 1846; was living in 1908) did not marry. Lived at Westville, Indian Territory.
- John Campbell Mitchell (b. 28 July 1849; was living in 1908) married Sept. 1882 in Fayetteville to Mary A. West. He was a professor in Cane Hill College. He had 5 children.
In 1830, several members of the Rutherford family moved to Washington Co., Ark. from Greene Co., Tenn. One of these was Robert R. Rutherford (b. Ca. 1798, Tenn.) with his wife Ann Tipton Rutherford. About 1830, this family crossed the Plains with horse teams and located at Sacramento, California. Two years later, the two older sons and a daughter returned to Arkansas. One of these sons was, William B. Rutherford (b. 1824, Tenn.) married Nancy M. Ferguson on 29 Sept. 1853, and remained in Fayetteville. The sister, Ruth Rutherford (b. 1828, Tenn.) married J. P. Stevenson on 18 March 1852 in Washington Co., Ark., and they moved back to California. The other son, John Tipton Rutherford (b. 10 Oct. 1831, Ark.) married Margaret Jane Mitchell on 28 April 1859, and they moved to California, where they raised their family.
The first letter was written by Nancy Mitchell, sister of Jane, just five months after Jane's marriage. She refers to her brothers Alfred, James, and William (who had married Josephine Lewis on 1 Dec. 1858). She also refers to the younger children, Mary (then about 13 years old) and John (then age 10).
My dear sister, Cane Hill,
September 25, 1859
.....There has been a good many changes since you left. Cyrus Buchanan died last Saturday night with the fever. He was in his right mind to the last and talked about his future prospects for happiness. This morning Johnny Banks died. I have not heard the particulars of his death. Lizzie Trout has been very sick, is some better now. Will Sawyers has been trying to court the widow Shannon's daughter. Major Billingsly forbid it and they quarreled. Will threatened the Major's life and Billingsly shot him. It is thought by some he will not live.
.....I will try to write something pleasant, about camp meeting. We had the best preaching I have ever heard. Not one poor sermon. All good and very good. There was some new preachers from a distance. There was many mourners but not very many conversions. Miss Hamlen, Mary McColock, Bud Buchanan professed. They are all that you know. there was some others. Oh, yes. Bud Webber he shouted just as good as any one hand looked just as happy. I believe he is truly converted. I never saw a happier looking person in all my life........I suppose you have heard of Ben Witherspoon's death...... Every person inquired about you at Camp meeting. (Partly torn).....very near taking a "Caneption fit" about you. They say you promised to write to them. Mary Davis said you must right to her. She has a fine boy. I enjoyed camp meeting. Every person was so kind.
Oct. 6th. Today we received two letters from you. One to me and Al. Al has gone to the Choctaw Agency to teach. He gets four hundred and fifty dollars for teaching eight months. We miss him very much. We will send him you letter. Jim is teaching in Vineyard and he has a very large school. He gets $75 a month. He was up last week and looks very well. 'Speck he will marry this winter. We are paying particular to his poor little turkey hen which has turned out to be a fine large gobbler.
Celina Parks and Bob have gone to Texas after Ann. He sends her love to you. Will and Jo have gone to Kansas, only to stay a short time to secure some of Will's land. Jim B. and Mag have moved there. They have been gone sometime. Mary and John are going to school to Miss A. Blakemore at Valley. She has 21 scholars.
The Burg has improved since you left. Mr. Wright and McClure each have large brick houses done, and the new Methodist Church house is finished. Uncle George's folks are all well. Cousin Jane G. w as here the other week. I was at Will's they day she came. We have quilted a quilt and spun, sewed, wove, cooked, and done many things lately. I asked John what I should tell you for him. He said to tell you he had a stiff shirt, a pleated bosom shirt. He wanted to wear his linen coat to school the other day. He said some of the scholars didn't know he had a linen coat.
Oct. 9th. Since I commenced this letter, Lizzie Trout has died. She died yesterday. I set up with her the night before and was there when she died. She professed religion three days before she died. Mother and me went to her funeral today. Uncle John preached very good sermon from the text Lizzie selected herself. Will and Jo have got home from Kansas. They were only gone two weeks. They found Jim Bales sick and Marg with the blues (partly torn -- some mention of Mr. Trout and Clem Holland).
Ever yours,
Nancy Mitchell
The minister referred to above was undoubtedly "Uncle" John Buchanan. The Mitchells were members of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church at Cane Hill, where he ministered.
True to Nancy's prediction, brother James Mitchell did marry the following winter. He married Lizzie T. Latta 31 Jan. 1860.
**Taken from pages 1-3 of the Washington County Historical Society's publication FLASHBACK Vol. XIV, No. 4, October, 1964. Written by Marian Carter Ledgerwood
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