The Bulletin of the Loudoun County Historical Society, Volume IV, 1965

History of The Battle of Ball’s Bluff 7

The Comanches 21

By John Divine

Confederate Monument in Leesburg 25

Short History of The Society of Friends in Loudoun County 29

By Asa Moore Janney

The Uses of History 43

By Col. Trevor N. Dupuy

The Skirmish at Mile Hill 53

By Col. A. B. Johnson, U.S. Army (Ret.)

Members of The Loudoun County Historical Society 57

Copyright 1965
By The Loudoun County Historical Society
Leesburg, Virginia

Printed in Leesburg, Loudoun
County, Commonwealth of Virginia
BY
POTOMAC PRESS

Fought on the 21st of October, 1861

Personal Memories of
Col. E. V. White

Dedicated By Him
To the Loudoun Chapter of U. D. C., Leesburg, Va.

For Benefit of
Monument to be erected in Leesburg to the
Confederate Soldiers of
Loudoun

“THE WASHINGTONIAN” PRINT
Leesburg, Va.

The popular idea at the time, and which has continued until now, is that the battle of Ball’s Bluff was a blunder, brought about by the Federal commander without proper (although easily to be obtained) information as to the force and position of the Confederates in the vicinity of Leesburg, and almost without purpose, or prospect of advantage, worth the venture, resulting from success should he win, and that the Confederate commander permitted his troops to engage, in a rather haphazard way, by companies and regiments, pretty much as they pleased.

But in the light of subsequent events, and by aid of the Official Records of the so-called “War of the Rebellion,” we learn that both commanders, Gen. Charles P. Stone, of the Federals and[1] Gen. N. G. Evans, of the Confederates, had really well-defined purposes and plans, and played the game with skill and intelligence on both sides.

It was General Stone’s purpose to cross the Potomac at two points, making a heavy display of force at Edwards’ Ferry, holding General Evans’ attention at that point in his front while making his real attack on the extreme left of the Confederate position, rolling back the small contingent of scouts and pickets about Smart’s Mill and turning the flank of Evans, which would compel a retreat, with Gorman’s brigade to cut him off, and at the same time General McCall’s force about Dranesville, on the Alexandria pike, only a short march away, making a possible combination of at least eighteen thousand men against Evans’ two thousand, with no support nearer than Manassas and Centreville; and moreover, General Stone had further aid in close call on the Maryland side of the river, under Generals Banks and Hamilton, so that when his main attack at the Bluff, with a force more than equal to Evans’ whole command, was made as a surprise, the game was his own, by all the rules of tactics and strategy.

General Evans had the evident advantage of his adversary in generalship, 8 and had proven his claim to the pastmaster’s degree in the same situation at the first Manassas, just three months before, where he held the extreme left of Beauregard’s line at the Stone Bridge, and where McDowell applied the same tactics as did Stone on the Potomac.

There, as here, the Federals in heavy force demonstrated on Evans’ front at the bridge while moving for the main attack by way of Sudley, far beyond his left, and there their busy delay at the bridge, as here at Edward’s Ferry, caused him to look elsewhere for work, which he soon found to the left.

So, leaving a few companies to amuse General Tyler on the turnpike, just as he held the artillery and nine companies of the Thirteenth Mississippi in front of Fort Evans, he hurried his main force to meet the attack on his left.

We learned later that our general knew his business, and why he made his battle by detail, as it seemed to us then, and General Beauregard’s instructions give us the reason why he fought here at all.

General Evans’ judgement was against giving battle at Leesburg, where all the chances seemed against him, and a few days before he had withdrawn his troops to a strong position at Carter’s Mills,[2] seven miles off on the road towards his only support at Manassas.

Upon reporting his movement to Beauregard, that officer gave him further light on the situation, in the following interesting document:

“HD. QRS. FIRST CORPS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
NEAR CENTREVILLE, October 17, 1861”

“COLONEL: Your note of this date has been laid before the General, who wishes to be informed of the reason that influenced you to take up your present position, as you omit to inform him. The point you occupy is understood to be very strong, and the General hopes you may be able to maintain it against odds should the enemy press across the river and move in this direction.

“To prevent such a movement, and junction of Banks’ forces with McClellan’s, is of the utmost military importance, and you will be expected to make a desperate stand, falling back only in the face of an overwhelming enemy.

“In case, unfortunately, you should be obliged to retire, march on this point and effect a junction with this corps.

“If you still deem it best to remain at Carter’s Mill the General desires you to maintain possession of Leesburg, as an outpost, by a regiment without baggage or tents, and to be relieved every three or four days. As you may be aware, this army has taken up a line of triangular shape, with Centreville as the salient, one side running to Union Mills, the other to Stone Bridge, with outposts of regiments three or four miles in advance in all directions, and cavalry pickets yet in advance as far as Fairfax Court House.

“Respectfully, your obedient servant,
THOMAS JORDAN,
Assistant Adjutant General.

We can now understand something of the importance of General Evans holding on hard at Leesburg, keeping the left flank of the army protect while it confronted General McClellan’s people before Washington; and there is nothing which has a more demoralizing military effect than that one fatal word—“flanked.”

General Evans had now under his command the Eighth Virginia Regiment under Col. Eppa Hunton, who had occupied Leesburg shortly after the battle of July 21st, joined later by three Mississippi regiments, viz., the Thirteenth, Col. Wm. Barksdale; Seventeenth, Col. W. S. Featherstone; Eighteenth, Col. E. R. Burt, which, together with six guns of the Richmond Howitzer Battalion and four companies of cavalry commanded by Lieut. Col. W. H. Jenifer, made up the Seventh Brigade of General Beauregard’s corps.

Immediately on receipt of the above order General Evans prepared to march, and on the night of the 19th moved his brigade to the burnt bridge[3] on the Alexandria pike, four miles east of Leesburg, and only eight miles from General McCall’s position at Dranesville.

The next morning, Sunday, a courier of McCall’s bearing orders to General Meade to examine the roads leading to Leesburg was captured, and from this prisoner General Evans learned the position and purpose of the enemy at Dranesville. Heavy cannonading had been going on during the night from batteries on the Maryland hills, which continued throughout the day, Sunday, and General Stone developed his purpose to make the very movement indicated in Beauregard’s dispatch, in doing which he sent Gen. W. A. Gorman’s brigade of infantry, having cavalry and artillery in support, over the river at Edward’s Ferry, making reconnaissance toward Leesburg.

That night he sent a scouting party under Captain Phiebrick,[4] of twenty men of the Fifteenth Massachusetts Infantry, to cross at Harrison’s Island[5] and explore towards the town from that direction.

This party did not long delay in Virginia, but returned to Headquarters by 10 o’clock p.m., reporting that they had proceeded unmolested to within one mile of Leesburg, discovering a camp of about thirty tents in the edge of a woods, approaching it within 25 rods unchallenged.

General Stone now had all necessary information on which to base his brilliant strategy of holding Evans quiet in front of Edward’s Ferry with Gorman’s threatening force, while Colonel Baker made his brigade crossing at the island above, turning the Confederate left, forcing Evans to quick retreat to save his communications, while Gorman by a rapid advance would cut him off. Well planned, certainly, but Evans had been taking lessons.

Upon receipt of the report of his scouts General Stone ordered Colonel Devens, with four companies of his regiment, Fifteenth Massachusetts, to cross at the island and destroy the camp found by Captain Phiebrick, which order he proceeded to execute, but found the supposed tents an illusion, the scouts having been deceived by a line of trees, the opening through which presenting, in an uncertain light, somewhat the appearance of tents.

At 7 o’clock in the morning—the 21st—these enterprising gentlemen 10 discovered Capt. W. L. Duff’s company (K, Seventeenth Mississippi) of forty men, who had been picketing the river about Smart’s Mill,[6] and arranged for their capture by putting Captain Phiebrick’s company at them in front, while two other companies were sent to outflank them and cut them off, but Duff and his men disregarded the “cut off.” They simply dropped on one knee, and when the enemy came, near enough (all the time answering Captain Duff’s challenge, “Who are you?” with the reply, “Friends”), fired a staggering volley into Deven’s three hundred, causing them also to disregard the “cut off” and retire to a better position, which they maintained for about twenty minutes, when they retreated to the thicket of woods on the right of the Jackson house.

Colonel Devens in his report says Captain Duff’s men at his first advance retreated to a corn-field and got into a ditch or trench—another illusion caused by their kneeling to take aim. Captain Duff reported his loss as one man seriously and two slightly wounded, capturing three wounded prisoners and fourteen or fifteen stands of arms, while Colonel Devens says he lost one killed, nine wounded, and two missing.

General Evans now sent Lieutenant-Colonel Jenifer with four companies of infantry, two from the Eighteenth and one each from the Seventeenth and Thirteenth Mississippi Regiments, and three companies of cavalry, Captain W. B. Ball, W. W. Mead, and Lieutenant Morehead, to support Captain Duff, making in all a force of 320 men on the battleground, while Colonel Devens reports his force strengthened to 753; and about 11 o’clock he again advanced, but was met in strong contention by Jenifer’s people for about an hour, when the Federals retired; and now was their best time to recross the river, for Hunton with his Eighth Virginia (except Wampler’s company, left at the burnt bridge to look out for McCall) was coming at a double-quick with 375 more people in bad temper.

But General Stone had not completed the development of his plan, and he again reinforced to 1,700—by the Twentieth Massachusetts, 340; Forty-second New York (Tammany), 360; First California (Colonel Baker’s own) 600, with two howitzers and one 6-pounder rifle gun. This looks by the figures given in official records like more than two thousand, but all other estimates put it at 1,700, about.

General Edward D. Baker[7] had now arrived and taken command of the Federal troops, making ready for a renewal of the conflict, and at 12:30 p.m. Colonel Hunton moved forward into the heavy timber, where Colonel Jenifer’s fight had left the Federals.

The battle opened again severely, the Virginians fighting straight ahead, with Jenifer’s force covering their left, which gave them opportunity for aggressive battle, although but one to three, with no artillery to answer the salutes of Baker’s guns.

The firing was rapid and the fighting stubborn, the Federals standing up to their work well, giving and receiving bloody blows with high courage; but, notwithstanding their superiority of force, amply sufficient to have swept the Confederates from the field at one rushing charge, they failed for lack of a proper leader, the result proving that Baker was as inferior to Hunton in skill and promptness on the battle line as was Stone to Evans in general conduct of the field operations.

The regimental and company officers did their duty well, but General Baker gave up almost without an effort the only strong military position on the field, and then so placed his reserves on rising ground immediately in view of his main line that Confederate lead, flying high, could find victims there.

It was well for Hunton, perhaps, that Devens[8] was not his antagonist, in view of the skillful, steady and hard fighting record subsequently made, when, as a cavalry commander, he gave Hampton, Fitz, Lee and Rosser a great deal of trouble; and withal he was a gallant gentleman, who, by considerate kindness, won the respect of Loudoun’s citizens while he camped his brigade among them the last winter of the war.

Colonel Baker was a chivalrous, high-toned gentleman, of fine attainments in politics and statesmanship, but, as was said of another, “God Almighty did not make him a general,” a lack which could not be supplied by a commission. Colonel Hunton saw and appreciated the advantage of the position which Baker had neglected, and steadying his line for the work, threw it in splendid aggressive battle—still one to three—against the volleying rifles and blazing cannon before him, sweeping infantry and artillery back to the bluff overhanging the river, where they staid, and the Confederates withdrew to the edge of the woods to rest and replenish cartridges for the final effort.

About 2:30 p.m. Colonel Hunton had sent me to General Evans to ask for reinforcements, but all I got was, “Tell Hunton to fight on.” Evans had now about taken Gorman’s measure and decided that the Edward’s Ferry force would not be dangerous so long as Fort Evans was held and his left at the Bluff hung on, and when, at 3:30, Hunton again sent me to the General to say that his ammunition was exhausted and unless reinforced he would be compelled to retire before superior numbers, Evans, evidently mindful of Beauregard’s instruction to make a “desperate stand,” said to me: “Tell Hunton to hold his ground till every d—m man falls. I HAVE sent him the Eighteenth and WILL send him the Seventeenth.”

On my return from the General I met a part of the Eighth Virginia, Lieutenant-Colonel Tebbs among them, retreating, and I asked what it meant, if Hunton was defeated, to which Colonel Tebbs replied: “I do not know, but Colonel Hunton ordered me to fall back.” They were about a quarter of a mile from where I had left Hunton’s line, and riding forward I gave the Colonel the General’s message, and asked him why he had ordered Tebbs and his men to fall back, informing him I had met them in retreat. He exclaimed: “Go tell Colonel Tebbs I only meant for him to fall back to the line; I did not intend him to retreat.”

I soon found Tebbs, told him what the General had said, and as soon as I could convince him of the intent of Hunton’s order, he went to work with all his fiery energy to rally and reform the men, in which I assisted as best I could, and we succeeded in getting most of them back, but some were running too fast to bother with, and Colonel Tebbs returned to the line and with the rallied men was in the last grand charge.

No reflection can be cast upon Colonel Tebbs’ reputation as a 12 soldier for this error, because he honestly thought Colonel Hunton had ordered a retreat, and that he was strictly in the line of duty.

When I again joined Colonel Hunton the Eighteenth Mississippi had come up and taken position two hundred yards to the right and in line with the Eighth Virginia at the edge of the woods.

This was about 5 o’clock, and Colonel Hunton ordered me to go to Colonel Burt, tell him the Eighth Virginia would charge the enemy in front, and ask him to attack with his regiment at the same time to cover his right.

Colonel Burt delayed his movement a short time in order that I might bring in one of his companies which had been sent off to the right, and when this was done he moved his line forward, but we had already heard the battle yell of the glorious old Eighth as it dashed forward on the enemy.

The gallant Mississippians were no laggards, when the dauntless Burt gave the command “Forward!” All during the day they had been in front of Edward’s Ferry, watching the enemy there and listening to the guns of their comrades at the Bluff, until delay had chafed them, but now their time had come, and with the steady tread of veterans they marched over the field to the woods.

When in less than one hundred yards of the timber, the enemy concealed behind the ridge of earth thrown up by long-ago plowing around the field, and also favored by the descent of the ground, let loose upon them one of the most deadly fires of musketry it was my fortune to witness during the war.

In visions now I sometimes see those brave fellows falling like leaves of autumn before the northern blast, but no man faltered except the stricken ones, before that fearful fire.

Colonel Burt was riding close up to his regiment in rear of the line and I rode beside him on his right, giving us good view of our own men as well as the position of the enemy as marked by the flaming line of the deadly volley.

The gallant Burt was mortally wounded[9] and as two of his men were taking him from his horse he turned to me, and in a tone as calm as if in ordinary talk, said, “Go tell Colonel Jenifer I am wounded and shall have to leave the field.” Starting to obey, I found myself in that most trying situation for a soldier—having to turn my back to the foe while my comrades were facing him. We were all “green” then, and had a horrid dread of being shot in the back, much more particular than later, when experience had done its perfect work, and the “ear became more Irish and less nice.”

Turning in my saddle, face to the enemy, I rode rapidly and found Colonel Jenifer in a small cleared spot, half way through the woods, along the path to the island.

Quickly delivering my message I hurried back to the Eighteenth, finding it had driven the enemy from his position and been joined by the Seventeenth under Colonel Featherstone and moved further to the left, nearly connecting with Hunton’s right, about the edge of the woods.

Colonel Hunton’s people, including Captain Upshaus’ company of the Seventeenth and Captains Kearney and Welborn’s companies of the 13 Eighteenth, had made their attack practically without ammunition—in fact, just prior to the charge the Colonel had ordered “Cease firing!” for a moment, and had the remaining cartridges equally distributed among the men, so that all could have a round, and then, relying almost solely upon the bayonet, they dashed forward, driving back a heavy column of the enemy just landed, and captured the two howitzers. After having driven them thus far into the woods, at which point General Baker was killed (pierced with four balls, no one knowing really who did it, although there was much romancing at the time), Colonel Hunton halted his men, who were completely broken down—nature and ammunition both exhausted—and rode over to Colonel Featherstone, saying, “Colonel, charge the enemy on the Bluff.” Featherstone replied, “I do not know the ground,” and Hunton exclaimed, “Come on, I will lead you.” But the Colonel demurred, saying: “No, sir; I will lead my own men, but want a guide who knows the ground,” when Hunton turned to me and said, “Lige, my boy, won’t you go with them?”

I was thoroughly acquainted with the country, having fox-hunted over it many times, and now, at sunset of a busy day, I rode to the front, shouting, “Follow me; I’ll show you the way.” The two regiments moved promptly a short distance, when they were met with a galling fire to which they heartily responded, and in a rushing charge drove the enemy headlong over the steep, rugged bluff, capturing three hundred prisoners, among them Colonel Coggswell of the Tammany Regiment,[10] but now acting brigadier general in place of the gallant Baker, and Col. U. R. Lee, Twentieth Massachusetts,[11] together with the rifle cannon; and now we had plenty of artillery of our own right on the ground.

During this part of the engagement an incident, not to be omitted, but a little out of the regular order of military science, occurred. Lieut. Chas. B. Wildman of Evans’ staff came on the field, and mistaking a part of the Federal line for our people, galloped to the front of the Tammany Regiment, and in the most peremptory and commanding manner ordered them to “Charge the enemy,” which they promptly did, supported by the Fifteenth Massachusetts, with disastrous results to themselves, losing about 25 men, killed and wounded. Among the latter was a captain to whom Captain Jones, Seventeenth Mississippi, shouted, “Who are you, and what do you mean?” whereupon the Federal officer rushed up to Jones and, grasping him by his long beard, exclaimed, “Who in the h—l are you?” when instantly one of Jones’ men struck the Federal captain on the head with his clubbed gun, killing him on the spot. By way of reminiscence for a bit, I will relate a little story. Thirty-two years after these things a party of Twentieth Massachusetts people came to Leesburg and requested me to guide them over the battleground where they and their comrades had fought so gallantly a generation before, and upon reaching the point of Featherstone’s attack, one of them called attention to an oak and said, “I was behind that tree when an officer on a white horse rode out there, leading a line of troops upon us, waving his hat and shouting, ‘Come on, follow me.’ I took aim and fired at him and then threw down my gun and ran for the river, for they were close on us. I don’t know whether I killed him or not.” I said to him, “No, thank God, you did not.” When he asked, 14 “Are you the man?” and I replied, “I surely am,” he threw his arms around me and exclaimed, “I thank God, too.”

After the Federals had been driven over the Bluff and darkness had spread its pall over the bloody scene Colonel Hunton instructed me to ascertain if there was any organized force up river to our left, directing Captain R. H. Carter[12] to support me with his company; and now my intimate knowledge of the country stood us in good stead. As we moved to execute the order I requested Captain Carter to hold his command about a hundred yards in my rear so that I could use my ears to better advantage, and I was to whistle if I needed help.

I had proceeded but a short distance in the woods when I was halted with the demand, “Who comes there?” I knew from the tone and accent it was none of our people. I said, “Come here.” Walking close up to me I asked, “Who are you?” to which he replied, “New York Tammany regiment.” I said to him, “You are my prisoner, surrender,” but he was made of better metal, and stepping back a pace, with leveled rifle and bayonet presented, he exclaimed, “Never to any man,” and almost before the words were pronounced I pulled my trigger, but the pistol failed to fire, and then, but for the fact that I had captured from one of Lincoln’s bodyguards this very pistol, which could be fired almost as rapidly as counting, I would not now be telling this story, because that brave, cool Tammany man would have killed me, for he was in the act of doing so when I pulled off my pistol again and he fell to the ground a corpse.

His comrade fired, but missed, and lying down by the dead man I eagerly listened for further demonstration, but hearing none I crept back to Captain Carter.

We consulted for some time, finally reaching two conclusions—FIRST, that there was no organized force in the woods, else they would have manifested their presence; and SECOND, that this particular body of woods was at that time a most excellent place in which to get killed by the scattered Federals in hiding, assuming that this gallant Tammany man was a sample of them, and we reported promptly to Colonel Hunton, who ordered me to remain with Lieutenant Charles Berkeley, who, with a detail of seventeen men, had been instructed to picket the ground during the night.

The ladies of Leesburg sent us a most bountiful supper, which was most highly appreciated by our hungry soldiers, who for thirteen hours had been resisting and defending greatly superior numbers of brave but badly handled Federal troops, beginning at 7 o’clock in the morning and ending after dark.

Except Lieutenant Berkeley’s little party all our forces had retired to the vicinity of the Fort for rest and rations, and we took up our solemn vigil over the “dark and bloody ground.” It was presently suggested that we go to the river, for although our battle had rolled to the very edge of the Bluff, none of our people had been quite there. We moved quietly along in the dark, soon coming on two men sitting beside a woods, and we crossed over, where we left one man as guard and passed on, finding next a handsomely caparisoned horse entangled in the thicket, which we concluded to be the one ridden by General Baker, 15 and this we sent back by another of our men.

Reaching the bank we sat down to listen, and heard a man struggling out in the river, crying, “Help, help, or I shall drown.” The agonized voice of the despairing wretch, as it rang out over the broad water, amid the stillness and darkness of inevitable death, conveyed to the mind an image of the horror which must weigh upon the heart of one doomed knowingly to eternal death. We could hear his strangling effort as he spouted the gurgling water from his mouth, and then another cry for help, answered this time by a voice calling from the gloom beyond, “Hold up a little longer, we are coming.” The first impulse, dictated by the desperate and savage experiences of the day, was to open fire and drive off his rescuers, but a more humane feeling prevailed, and we quietly listened, soon dimly discerning the boat rapidly approaching the Virginia shore, and landing two or three hundred yards above us, where the Federals had been crossing all day.

The space of beach or shore from the foot of the bluff to the water’s edge is about sixty yards wide, and after crossing from the island, the Federals had to go down the river the two hundred or more yards to reach the road leading up on the bluff.

This space was still strewn with dead and wounded men waiting removal or burial, so that when we moved up towards the landing place we found it difficult, in the deep darkness prevailing under the bluff, to avoid stepping on the bodies—in fact we did this frequently—those with life still in them always giving us notice of it.

Approaching the landing I suggested to Lieutenant Berkeley that he hold his men while I went forward alone to reconnoiter, which he did, and I walked up to the mass of people gathered about the landing. It was so dark they could not distinguish me from their own men, and making the best investigation I could, I reported to Berkeley that there were 1,500 of them.

Lieutenant Charley Berkeley had as brave a heart in him as any of the name, and when I say that, it means he was among the “bravest of the brave,” for no men ever did more gallant service, were more patriotically devoted to Old Virginia, or were more loyal to the Southern cause, and few there be in all our glorious Southland who suffered more to promote the success of that cause than those who bore the name of Berkeley.

On hearing my report the lieutenant said, “Don’t you think we can capture them?” Here was no “taking counsel of fear”—fifteen against fifteen hundred. I said I thought we could if we all would swear to go through or die, but there was some murmured objection with a few of our men, and one, a gallant fellow, afterwards killed in Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg, said the scheme was too utterly rash for consideration and he would not agree to it. It was then agreed that I should mount the captured horse, ride to the Eighth Virginia and ask them to come over and help us. Reaching their bivouac I found that Colonel Hunton, who had gotten up from his sickbed to be with his men in the battle, had retired to a house in town, leaving Lieutenant-Colonel Tebbs in command, and upon stating the situation to him and asking for the regiment, he said the men were so worn out with the exertions of the 16 day that he would not order them for the expedition, but that if any chose to volunteer for it they might go.

Upon hearing this Captains Wm. N. and Edmund Berkeley; Lieutenants R. H. Tyler, L. B. Stephenson, and Robt. Cue; Sergeants F. Wilson, J. O. Adams, and ........ Gochenauer; Corporals B. Hurst, W. Fletcher, B. Hutchinson, Wm. Thomas; Privates A. S. Adams, J. W. Adams, F. A. Boyer, L. Chinn, G. Crell, R. S. Downs, W. Donnelly, G. Insor, C. R. Griffin, John George, D. L. Hixon, T. W. Hutchinson, J. F. Ish, R. I. Smith, W. C. Thomas, J. W. Tavenner, J. M. McVeigh, L. W. Luckett, M. H. Luckett, A. M. O’Baunon, Rev. Chas. F. Linthecuin, R. O. Carter, Geo. Roach, E. Nalls, Howard Trussell, D. Rouke, T. E. Tavenner, P. Gochenauer, F. Tinsman, T. H. Denton, T. Kdwiell, C. Fox, V. R. Costello, Will Moore, J. Ellis, Wm. McCarty, J. M. McClannehan, F. Herrington, R. Julian, and C. D. Luckett—in all fifty-two—came forward promptly, saying, “We will follow you.”

Moving back rapidly to Berkeley, we found he had come up on the Bluff, and as not a man among us except myself knew a foot of the ground, they unanimously made me their leader, and I placed Lieutenant Berkeley, with his original squad of a dozen, ON the bluff, to wait until the balance opened fire UNDER it, when he was to open rapidly, making all the noise possible and shouting every order and command he could think of.

The remainder of the party descended the bluff to the beach or shore, and when near the landing we heard the boat returning from the island. How many trips it had made in my absence I do not know, but the number of men on shore had very perceptibly diminished. Here I halted my little army, and having witnessed the confusion among the Federals at a previous landing, I instructed my men to wait until the boat reached the shore. As it came to land we moved forward, and when nearly up with them I called for a surrender, but receiving no reply I ordered “Fire!” and our guns blazed into them. There was a general stampede of those who were able, a large number of them jumping into the river, while some ran along the shore above.

All their officers who could do so had left these poor fellows to their fate some time before, except one, a gallant Irish captain of the California regiment, who had swum over to the island to try for some way to get his men over, but failing in that had swum the river back again to share the fate of his company. I think his name was O’Meara,[13] and he deserves the Medal of Honor. This brave gentleman called out, as a last resort in the wreck and confusion, “We surrender, who is in command?” Captain W. N. Berkeley replied, “General White,” and the Captain asked, “General White, what terms will you give us?”

My unofficial promotions this day had been much too rapid for my scant military knowledge, and for want of a more professional answer I replied, “The terms of war, sir;” which seemed to suit the captain, for his clear voice called, “Men, General White gives us the terms of war; come out of the river and surrender,” which they did, and then the brave fellow went up the river and brought back a number who had been in hiding there. When gathering them all together, he marched them up the bluff to the plateau where he formed them in line, and 17 handed over to our charge three hundred and twenty-five prisoners, with many arms, ammunition, etc.

My untutored form of expressing terms granted may have seemed awkward to the better technically informed soldiers present, but I still think my proposition was as much to the point as that of “Stonewall” Jackson at Harpers Ferry or General Grant’s at Fort Donelson, to wit, “Unconditional surrender, sir.”

In regard to this night capture, the official reports of some officers, as published, are so misleading and inaccurate that I feel obliged to call attention to them, and especially that of Lieutenant-Colonel John McGuirk, Seventeenth Mississippi, found in Vol. V., Series 1, page 362, Official Records, which I would be glad for all who may see this little story, to read it, it being too voluminous to incorporate in this.

However, some allowance should be made for him, as we learn from his report that he was suffering under excessive fatigue, having been fifty-three hours in the saddle, breaking down one horse, having immediate supervision of all operations from Smart’s Mill to Edward’s Ferry during both days, taking many prisoners, guarding the battlefield all night, ending up on the night of 22d by having his last horse fall with and upon him, in Leesburg, producing a shock so serious that he was unable to remount without help, and finally having to be assisted from his horse and put to bed, with the heavy duty of having to prepare his report, so that General Evans might know just WHAT had been done and WHO did it, coming upon him before he had fully recovered. In view of all these things, we must admit that he made quite an interesting report, in which he says that “Mr. E. White, of Ashby’s Cavalry, entered the field with two companies of the Eighth Virginia and I joined my forces to his,” etc.

To vindicate the truth of history I here emphatically declare that there were no soldiers engaged in that capture—the greatest of the day—but those of the Eighth Virginia, except myself, who, at that time, belonged to Captain Mason’s company of Ashby’s Legion. I say this because it is the truth and that Lieut. Charles Berkeley, with the gallant band of the Eighth Virginia, who joined him in the enterprise, shall have the credit that belonged to them, Colonel Featherstone and Lieutenant Colonel McGuirk to the contrary notwithstanding, but I am well assured that Featherstone’s report is based upon McGuirk.

The story of Ball’s Bluff would be sadly incomplete if the operations of the game old Colonel Barksdale[14] and his noble regiment, the Thirteenth Mississippi, were omitted, because only by their splendid work in holding Gorman’s brigade quiet at Edward’s Ferry was Confederate victory made possible at the Bluff, and at one time he had begun his march to aid the boys at that point. But for Evans’ recall order the Thirteenth would have been among the Federals on the left, and at that time only a thin skirmish line with a few vedettes was all there was in front of Fort Evans and four thousand Federal troops. In the early days of the war there was one peculiar terror which often prevented Federal commanders from performing brilliant deeds, easy enough with their superiority in “men and metal,” and that was the astonishing crop of “masked batteries” planted in Southern forests and corn fields, which 18 imaginary spectre was very potent here with Gorman’s men, holding them to the river bank for two days until Barksdale’s boys showed them their rearward crossing on the 22d in an attack conducted with great skill and daring, under the artillery fire from both sides of the river, killing and wounding about forty men. Had Evans supported this battle of Barksdale with his whole force, we have every reason to believe that Gorman would have been forced to surrender. Another instance of battlefield literature after the fact, is General McClellan’s order of thanks to his troops engaged in this battle; which leads us to wonder if the writer of “official reports” could have foreseen how they would read after the “clouds rolled by,” would they not have been more careful as to what they wrote? There is no harm, however, in this particular order except the General’s estimate of the Confederate strength.

GENERAL ORDER NO. 32.) HD. ORS. ARMY OF THE POTOMAC “WASHINGTON, Oct. 25, 1861.

“The Major General commanding the Army of the Potomac desires to offer his thanks, and to express his admiration of their conduct, to the officers and men of the detachments of the Fifteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, First California, and Tammany regiments, First U. S. Artillery, and Rhode Island Battery, engaged in the affair of Monday last near Harrison’s Island. The gallantry and discipline displayed deserved a more fortunate result; but situated as those troops were, cut off alike from retreat and reinforcements, and attacked by an overwhelming force, 5,000 against 1,700, it was not possible that the issue could have been successful. Under happier auspices such devotion will insure victory. The general commanding feels increased confidence in General Stone’s division, and is sure that when they next meet the enemy they will retrieve this check, for which they are not accountable.

“By command of Major General McClellan.

“S. Williams,

“Asst. Adjt. General.”

The Confederate losses in the battle are accurately and easily verified:

18th Mississippi, 500 engaged; 22 killed; 63 wounded.

17th Mississippi, 600 engaged; 2 killed; 9 wounded.

13th Mississippi, ... engaged; 4 killed; 3 wounded.

8th Virginia, 375 engaged; 8 killed; 43 wounded.

Numbers engaged are taken from Lieutenant Colonel Jenifer’s report, and he makes none for the Thirteenth Mississippi, which was not engaged at the Bluff. He gives the number under his command in the 19 morning as 20, including 70 cavalry, most of the latter being engaged in vedette and scout duty.

The Federal losses as officially reported were:

The Confederates captured and sent to Manassas 710 prisoners, which accounts for only four otherwise missing, and it is well known that a considerable number were drowned, as was shown by a later investigation by Congress, when General Stone was arrested. The great portion of the heavy loss to the Eighteenth Mississippi was caused by the one terrible volley poured into it at the time Colonel Burt was wounded, while the comparatively small loss to the Eighth Virginia was due to the skillful handling of it by Colonel Hunton, during the long time it was engaged; and it is also true that Colonel Hunton was in command of the field from the moment of his arrival at about 12 M., and so as I know, ordered all the dispositions and movements of troops engaged in the battle.

General Evans maintained his position at the fort 2½ miles from Edward’s Ferry, where Gorman’s 4,000 were posted, and 1½ miles from Ball’s Bluff, where Baker’s 1,700 were fighting, during the whole day, and with the genius of intuition managed the business with superb generalship and daring, withdrawing nearly all his force from Gorman’s front at the critical moment to brace Hunton’s battle on the left; and the result proved his superior skill and generalship.

The officers making reports of the battle, which have been preserved, speak in terms of high praise of the excellent conduct of all the troops engaged, and especially mention for distinguishing gallantry Lieutenant Geo. Baxter, of the Loudoun Cavalry, who, with ten men, charged two companies of the enemy; Captain W. B. Ball and Sergeant Major Baugh, of the Chesterfield Cavalry; Sergeant Strostier, Madison Cavalry; Private Toler, Loudoun Cavalry; Captains Duff, Seventeenth Mississippi; Campbell and Welborn, Eighteenth Mississippi; Fletcher, Thirteenth; all of whom were in the reinforcing party sent to Duff’s support in the morning. Colonels Jenifer, Hunton and others make particular mention of “Mr. E. White, of Ashby’s Cavalry,” who, they say, assisted Captain Duff in the morning, and later “rode in front of the Seventeenth Mississippi, cheering and leading them on.”

By John Divine

The aura built around Colonel John S. Mosby has caused the exploits of another “Border Partisan” to be almost entirely ignored. Lt. Col. E. V. White, dashing leader of the 35th Battalion, Virginia Cavalry, rendered service to the Confederacy on a scale greater than that of the more renowned Mosby. Too often White’s Battalion was called from its warfare to fight with other segments of the army, thus he was not afforded the opportunity to be identified solely as a partisan. The hard bloody fighting, while filling pages of the Official Records, does not appeal to the romantic writer.

Elijah Viers White was born near Poolesville, Maryland, but at the outbreak of war was farming in Loudoun County, Virginia. For distinguished service as a volunteer aide to Colonel Eppa Hunton at Ball’s Bluff, White was commissioned captain in the Provisional Army of the Confederacy with permission to organize an independent company for service along the border. The original company was organized at Leesburg in December, 1861. This company became the nucleus of the 35th Battalion, better known as White’s Battalion or “The Comanches.” This hardy band, under the daring leadership of White, possibly saw as much action as any unit in the Confederate Army. Excellent riders, well mounted, armed with two revolvers and a sabre, their attacks created terror in the unsuspecting enemy.

Their first service with the regular army was as scouts and couriers for General Ewell in the Valley. A strange attachment sprang up between “Old Bald Head” and this little band of “Comanches.” Ewell relied on their information and they in turn idolized this eccentric dyspeptic.

White suffered the first of several wounds during the Valley Campaign, but returned to duty in time to lead his men in the battles around 22 Richmond. They followed Ewell’s Division on to Cedar Mountain where they preyed on scattered parties from Pope’s Army. As the armies moved on toward Second Manassas, White returned to Loudoun where he surrounded Captain Means’ Loudoun Rangers in the Waterford Baptist Church. After a two hour battle in which both sides suffered heavily the Rangers surrendered and were paroled. He then joined the main Confederate Army as it invaded Maryland. At Frederick, White fell under the displeasure of General Stuart who ordered him back to the south side of the river. (This was probably a renewal of the old argument that White had organized only for border service.) Finally General Lee resolved their differences by ordering White on a scouting expedition to Harpers Ferry and to report only to him (Lee). The “Comanches” returned to Loudoun and were engaged with Union Cavalry under Kilpatrick at Leesburg. In charging 400 Blue cavalrymen the Confederates were repulsed and their commander suffered a shoulder wound.

A Maryland company under Captain George W. Chiswell joined White, and shortly thereafter three more companies were organized. His daring was attracting young men in search of action. On October 28, 1862, Colonel Bradley T. Johnson formally mustered these five companies into the Confederate service; a sixth company was later added.

The battalion was quite active during McClellan’s return from Maryland. Striking quickly at loosely guarded wagon trains, White captured about 1000 prisoners and 200 wagons while the Federals were crossing Loudoun. Christmas eve, 1862, saw the battalion ford the Potomac into Maryland and bring off sixty horses and large quantities of supplies from upper Montgomery County.

In January, 1863, White was formally assigned to “Grumble” Jones’ Brigade. Open mutiny almost broke out over this order as the men claimed that theirs was an independent command not subject to assignment to any regiment or brigade. The Maryland company claimed they owned no allegiance to the Confederacy and had the right to select their service. White soon quelled this insubordination and the battalion settled down to fighting Yankees again. As in as many similar organizations discipline was a problem. White was not a disciplinarian, believing that his mission was to fight and leave the “house-keeping” to others; however, he was promoted to lieutenant colonel in February.

The battalion continued to serve with Jones’ Brigade in the Valley but made frequent sorties into Loudoun to battle their old border enemies, the Loudoun Rangers and Cole’s Maryland Cavalry.

Ordered to join Ewell in Pennsylvania, White led Early’s advance to the Susquehanna. It was the “Comanches” who dashed into Gettysburg on June 26, and scattered the 26th Pennsylvania Militia, thus firing the first shots on that great battlefield.

Again back in Virginia they served with Jones until his death, and then with General Rosser as the brigade picked up the famous sobriquet of the “Laurel Brigade.” When Rosser moved on to division command 23 White was the popular choice to succeed him, but the old problem of discipline stood in the way. Governor John Letcher and Judge Brockenborough petitioned President Davis in White’s behalf, but General Lee could not be swayed because of the laxity of the battalion while not engaged in battle; drilling and sabre grinding were termed as a “perfect nuisance” by White. On one occasion General Lee wrote Rosser to say that no reports had been received by the ordnance department from White’s Battalion. Rosser replied that he had never been able to get a report from White, and if General Lee could get it he would be happy to see it.

Hard service had depleted the battalion to a mere skeleton of its former organization by the fall of 1864, but a favorite pastime throughout that winter was raiding General Devin’s lines around Lovettsville. Devin had camped his cavalry brigade there to protect the B & O Railroad and the Canal against raids by White and Mosby, but hardly a night passed in which the pickets were not fired on.

Engaged at Five Forks, the battalion now numbering only eighty men, formed the rear guard for Pickett and Fitz Lee as the long retreat to Appomattox began.

At High Bridge the “Laurel Brigade” was surrounded by both infantry and cavalry. General James Dearing, then in command of the brigade, ordered a charge to break the encircling ring. Dearing went down mortally wounded but White led the brigade through. At last the command which had been so long denied was his, but only for a few days. As the infantry surrendered at Appomattox White led the brigade on to Lynchburg following Rosser. There they disbanded to seek paroles individually over the next few weeks.

The battalion hardly numbered more than five hundred men, but accounted for many times their number in killed, wounded, and captured of the enemy. If they had bothered to carry a guidon its battle streamers would have shown The Seven Days, Cedar Mountain, Brandy Station, Gettysburg, Mine Run, Wilderness, Trevilliam Station, The Cattle Raid, Petersburg and Five Forks. In addition to these were the countless unnamed skirmishes that occurred daily.

The 35th Battalion, Virginia Cavalry, led by the intrepid White, was truly one of the best fighting organizations in the Confederacy.

Confederate Monument in front of the Court House, Leesburg.

IN MEMORY OF THE
CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS
OF LOUDOUN COUNTY VA.
ERECTED MAY 28 1908

The very fine Confederate monument in front of the Courthouse in Leesburg is the work of an excellent and well known sculptor, F. William Siever of Richmond. The statute occupies a warm place in the hearts of the people of Loudoun. With the Courthouse, the clerk’s office and the lawn, it forms a unit that stands as a symbol of the government which has been carried on in the county since it was established in 1757.

The statue attracts much attention from tourists. It has become almost a daily occurrence to see a visitor photographing the Confederate Soldier.

I had the good fortune to be given two folders that give fascinating details of the activities of the Confederate Veterans and the Daughters of the Confederacy in years past. One was the program of the ceremony held at the unveiling of the monument on Thursday, May 28, 1908, and the committees responsible for its erection. The money to pay for the statue had been raised by the Daughters of the Confederacy. These were the members of the monument committee:

DAUGHTERS OF THE CONFEDERACY

Mrs. John George

Mrs. Agnes Summers

Mrs. William N. Wise

Mrs. E. G. Caufman

Mrs. Sallie Fendall

CONFEDERATE VETERANS

John H. Alexander

Lewis W. Shumate

Geo. F. Everhart

W. A. McFarland

Peter F. Schroff

SONS OF CONFEDERATE VETERANS

Paul Garrett

John T. Hourihand

J. H. Leslie

Claude Van Sickler

Clifton Myers

COMMITTEE ON CONTRACT

L. M. Shumate

J. T. Hourihane

E. B. White

John L. Norris

Sculptor—William Siever, Sr.

PROGRAMME

All Committees and Escorts to Meet at Court House
at 9:45 A. M.

10:30 A. M.
Assemble in Court House.
Prayer by Rev. F. P. Berkeley.
Singing, “Maryland, My Maryland.”
Presentation of Crosses of Honor.
MARCH TO CEMETERY
in the following order:
MUSIC
Sons of Confederate Veterans,
Daughters of the Confederacy,
Children of the Confederacy,
Confederate Veterans,
Citizens on foot,
Citizens in Carriages.
At Cemetery, Invocation by Rev. W. H. Burkhardt.
Singing of Assembly, “Nearer, My God, to Thee.”
Placing of Flowers on Graves.
Return to Court House.
12 M.
The President of the Loudoun Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy will entertain the Veterans and Sons of Veterans at luncheon on the Court House Green.
1 P. M.
Introduction of Speakers by Judge C. E. Nicols, Hon. Claude A. Swanson, Governor of Virginia, on behalf of Sons of Veterans.
Col. Edmund Berkeley
on behalf of Confederate Veterans.
MUSIC
Unveiling Speech by
Hon. John W. Daniel, U. S. Senator from Virginia.
Poem, Mr. Harry T. Harrison.
Unveiling of Statue by
Master Elijah V. White
Assisted by
Miss Mary H. Keeler, Middleburg Chapter D. of C.
Miss Hannah B. McIntosh, Loudoun Chapter D. of C.
Master Thos. F. Carruthers for Blue Ridge Chapter D. of C.
MUSIC
There will be a committee of ladies at the rooms of the Loudoun Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy, over The Peoples National Bank, to entertain lady visitors.
Music by courtesy of the Bluemont Band.

It might be of interest to identify those who took part in the program. Rev. F. P. Berkeley, who invoked the opening prayer, was minister of the Leesburg Baptist Church. Rev. Burkhardt who offered the Invocation at the cemetery, was the Rector of St. James Episcopal Church, Leesburg. Col. Edmund Berkeley, who made the speech on behalf of the Confederate Veterans, had served in the famous 8th Virginia Regiment. His three brothers, Norbourne, William and Charles Fenton were also members of this same outfit. At one time Norbourne was the commanding officer of the 8th Virginia, to which numerous Loudoun men belonged. After Gen. Eppa Hunton was elevated to command, they all served as officers in this regiment for the duration of the war. It will be recalled that the 8th Virginia fought at the Battle of Ball’s Bluff under the command of Gen. Hunton.

The four Berkeleys were all born in a house in Aldie now called Pembroke. At the time of the Berkeleys residence there, they call it Aldie. At present, the house is unoccupied but is owned by William F. Bullis, headmaster of the Bullis School. In later years, several of the Berkeleys developed their own estates in the vicinity of Aldie. They were great-uncles of William J. Cox, Leesburg.

There are still those who recall that the unveiling took place on a very hot day. In spite of this, Senator Daniel spoke for over two hours. Mr. Harrison, who gave the poem, was the late husband of Mrs. Harry Harrison and father of Mrs. Alfred diZerega. Master Elijah V. White is the grandson of Col. E. V. White of Laurel Brigade fame and one of the best known Loudoun soldiers. Mr. and Mrs. White now live on Cornwall Street, Leesburg.

Miss Mary Keller is Mrs. Edwin Reamer of Middleburg. Miss Hannah B. McIntosh is Mrs. James diZerega of Leesburg. Master Thomas F. Carruthers, a Purcellville native, now lives in Charleston, W. Va.

An article about the sculptor, F. William Siever, by Ulrich Troubetzkoy appeared in Virginia Cavalcade, autumn 1962. The author stated that Mr. Siever was 90 years old and still a resident of Richmond, where he has lived since 1910. He had promised himself that he would settle in the place where he received his first major commission. Richmond was selected as a result of his being asked to do the Virginia Memorial at Gettysburg.

When the Virginia State Commission called for designs for this memorial, 36 sculptors submitted models. The fact that Mr. Siever was selected from that many competitors is an excellent indication of his skill as a sculptor. After being chosen, he put much time and effort in getting all the details correct. The Commission prepared a list of men who had fought in the battle and the sculptor sent them questionnaires regarding the facts he needed to know. When the Gettysburg Centennial was celebrated in July, 1963, Mr. Siever was present at the Virginia Monument to greet the visitors.

He has been a prolific producer. Two of his best known statues are of Stonewall Jackson and Matthew Fontaine Maury on Monument Avenue, Richmond.

The second folder given me is:

SOUVENIR
CELEBRATION

Of the Birthday of
GEN. ROBERT E. LEE

by
Clinton Hatcher Camp C.V.
Sons of Veterans and
Daughters of the Confederacy
Leesburg Opera House
January Nineteenth
1904

The “Leesburg Opera House” was what those of us who remember it, called the “Old Town Hall” that stood on King Street where White’s store is now located.

This statement is found inside the folder:

To the surviving members of the Lost Cause who have assembled today to pay tribute to the memory of the dead Chieftan, Robt. E. Lee, with the compliments of Loudoun National Bank

Menu
Lynn Haven Bays
Stewed Oysters
Celery
Chow Chow
Cold Slaw
Mixed Pickles
Cucumber Pickles
Fried Oysters

Roast Turkey, Fitz Dressing
Baked Pig, a la Beaureguard
Old Virginia Ham
Roast Saddle of Mutton, a la Col. White
Baked Chicken, Virginia Style
Roast Duck, Longstreet Dressing

Stonewall Beaten Biscuits

Confederate Ice Cream
Cake
Coffee
Apollinaris

I realize that in those days, when they ate, they ate. However, I find it perfectly astonishing that they fed Confederate Veterans a meal composed of 3 kinds of oysters, 2 fowls and 3 meats to a group of men who were hungry day after day during the war. Could this possibly be some form of compensation?

Delivered Before the Loudoun County Historical Society, November 16, 1962
By Asa Moore Janney

The members of the Religious Society of Friends were the last of the three elements which make up our county to arrive. With the coming of the Friends, the Germans were pretty well settled in that part of the county north and northwest of Waterford, and the slave holders were to the southeast of the Catoctin Hills and in the southwestern part of the county.

Loudoun’s Friends were introduced to the county, no doubt, by the settlement of Friends along the Opekon Creek in what was then Orange County, now Frederick, before the year 1732. In 1734, when George Washington was two years old, these Friends from Pennsylvania and Elk River in Maryland, applied for and were granted from East Nottingham Meeting in Cecil County, Maryland, a meeting for worship which they called Hopewell. The next year this was enlarged to a monthly meeting for business and discipline under what came to be called Concord Quarterly Meeting, composed of East Nottingham and Chester Quarterly Meeting held at Concord, Chester County, Pennsylvania, and attached to Philadelphia Meeting. At nearly the same time a Meeting at Monocacy, Maryland, just across the Blue Ridge due east of Hagerstown, Maryland, in Prince George County, was included in Hopewell Meeting. Without a doubt it was this proximity of Hopewell Meeting to Loudoun County which prompted Friends from the same meetings in Pennsylvania and Maryland who established Hopewell to set up their meetings in Loudoun.

The good word that there were fine lands in Prince William County got around, for in February of 1730 Samuel Marksberry ran a survey for his grant “on Kittockton Mountain near the Thoroughfare or Hunting Path thru said Mountain.” This place we now call Clarks Gap. Lower down the Catoctin Creek the Irishman, Asa Moore, had in 1732, according 30 to tradition, built a home on the South Branch of Catoctin and called it after his native Waterford. While Moore probably had neighbors, unknown to us to-day, it was not long before Amos Janney in 1733 left his home at the Falls of the Delaware in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and settled in the Waterford community along with several Janneys, Thomas John, Edward Morton, Samuel Harris, Thomas Bourne and others.

Since John Mercer, land speculator, and Catesby Cocke, clerk of Prince William County and later of Fairfax, had already been granted the land around Waterford, these early Friends must have leased or bought from them, for we find in the Fairfax County, records that David Potts in 1746 leased 866 acres of land on “Kittockton Run from Catesby Cocke for (5) five Shillings, paid in Hand, with the right to Purchase and an annual Rental of one Ear of Indian Corn.”

According to the Register of Pennsylvania, edited by Samuel Hazard, in Vol. VII, printed in 1831—About the year 1733, Amos Janney from Bucks County, and soon after divers other Friends, settled about 40 miles lower in Virginia than the Opeckon, who obtained leave to hold a meeting for worship on first days, which was held at the said Amos Janney’s and other Friends houses till the year 1741 when a piece of land was purchased, and a meeting-house built thereon called Fairfax, whose meetings have since been held twice a week.

Janney’s History of Friends notes in a memorial concerning his wife Mary Janney, “he (Amos) is mentioned as a valuable Friend and true helper Zion ward; and she is described as a devoted Christian, whose meekness, gentleness, and kindness rendered her company truly agreeable and instructive.

“When they came to Virginia, the neighborhood where they settled was almost uninhabited, but other Friends soon coming after and settling near them, a meeting for worship was held in their house.”

At first, in 1733, Amos Janney was authorized to hold an “Indulged Meeting” by East Nottingham Monthly Meeting; then the Waterford Meeting was organized in 1735 as a Preparative Meeting, under the auspices of Hopewell Meeting. Soon its membership increased and when the first meeting house was built, probably of logs in 1741, the meeting applied to Hopewell to be allowed to proceed as a monthly meeting. The application was allowed, and in 1744 Fairfax Monthly Meeting was set up along with Monocacy Preparative Meeting, just two years after Fairfax County came into being. At the first Monthly Meeting six couples requested permission to marry. Jane Hogue was clerk of Women’s Meeting with Elizabeth Norton and Mary Janney as overseers; Samuel Harris and Jacob Janney were overseers and Amos Janney clerk of the Men’s Meeting. Monocacy Meeting was laid down in 1762; there is more of its history following this date, but since it is out of our scope, we will leave it where it lies.

Meanwhile the yeast of settlement was working, and about ten years from the coming of the first settlers to Waterford we find them bringing in their friends from up North and East. People were coming from Bucks and Chester Counties in Pennsylvania, from New Jersey, Calvert County, Maryland, and direct from England and Wales. Pressing out at the southwest they found unclaimed land, some which, even that indefatigable 31 amasser of Loudoun County land, George Slater, had missed; rich and valuable, between the North and Beaverdam Forks of Goose Creek. Here they established themselves in settlements called Harmony, now Hamilton, and Goose Creek, now Lincoln.

It is interesting to see how the land was granted to these later settlers; for instance, the three earliest grants in the Harmony, Goose Creek, Philomont, so called “Quaker Settlement” area were as follows: William Diggs, of Diggs Valley (of which Clarence Case’s farm was a part) acquired 1,074 acres on August 27, 1731, William Bowell, 602 acres on August 27, 1731, and George Atwood, 1,092 acres on September 24, 1737. Diggs and Bowell obtained their grants the last year Robert (King) Carter acted as agent for Fairfax, as Carter died in 1732, and Fairfax was having no more of the high handed manner in which Carter had handled the business; so, the office was closed until Lord Fairfax came over himself and issued a few grants in 1737, when the above George Atwood must have gotten his. The office was not again opened until William Fairfax, acting as agent for Fairfax, was ready for business in 1739, when the Quakers stepped in and got theirs.

Around 1745, or sooner, Jacob Janney, his wife Hannah and others came down from Bucks County and settled in the Goose Creek neighborhood. In going over the certificates of removals granted persons leaving the northern meetings and repairing to Virginia and comparing these certificates with the dates of their grants, we see that several, but not all, had been down to Virginia, taken a grant, and gone home for wife and family, for instance: On third month 2nd, 1741, Joseph Hollingsworth and wife obtained a certificate from Newark or Kennet Meeting; his grant is dated April 20th, 1742.

In the minutes of the Falls Meeting: “Abel Janney was reported at the Pertomock” on 10th Mo. 1st, 1742; his grant was dated March 17th, 1741.

George Gregg had a certificate on 5th Mo. 4th, 1740 from Newark and a grant of June 3rd, 1744. (Wonder where he was the four years).

Isaac Nichols, a certificate on 9th Mo., 1743, for wife and Herman Cox from Kennet and a grant for 560 acres on March 25th, 1743.

Jacob Janney received a certificate from the Falls Meeting of 8th Mo., the 5th, 1743, and a grant of 690 acres on June 20th, 1743. Jacob married in 1742, if he came to Virginia in 1745 as historians claim, where was he from the date of his grant in 1744 and the date of his certificate, 1743?

Some of the grants were quite large: Ames Janney—2,345 acres, John Mead 1,289 acres, Gidney Clark 3,000 acres. Four Janney families got 4,843 acres, and more too, which was possible as Amos was a surveyor for Fairfax and knew where all the “waste and ungranted lands” were.

Hannah Janney, the wife of Jacob, must have been a very strong character as shown by a memorial in the minutes of Goose Creek Meeting of 1818, the year of her death at the age of 93. It is stated that soon after their establishment in their new home she went regularly twice a week to a log in the forest where she set up an altar to her God by spending some time in silent devotion.

As early as 1746 Fairfax Quarter granted to Friends settled on the banks or tributaries of Goose Creek, which also included South Fork, at 32 Union (now Unison), the priviledge of holding a meeting for worship on the third day of each month at the residence of the members. About 1750, or 51, a regular meeting was established at Goose Creek. The first meeting house was built of logs and was said to have been built on the site where Hannah held her devotions.

A traveling minister wrote in his autobiography: “On seventh day we went to their monthly meeting at Fairfax, 8 miles from Leesburg, which was large and solemn—On second day was at Goose Creek, 8 miles ye Meeting house small yet did not hold half ye pepal which was a great disc-advantage yet came away pretty Ese.”

That the French and Indian War did not overly affect Loudoun County is well known. However, the people well knew the hardship endured by the Friends in the Valley, as this bit from the “Autobiography of William Reckitt,” who was a visitor in our county in 1757 shows. “Crossing Potomac we came into Virginia to Fairfax; where we had a meeting on the second day of the week and 12th of the 12th month. It was a good meeting, truth having the dominion—We lodged at Mary Janney’s, a discrete orderly woman, who had several sober, well inclined children. From hence we went to Goose Creek and had a meeting on third day; it was well. On 4th day we had a meeting at David Pole’s several Friends accompanying us. I had a travail in spirit—We left David Pole’s house on 5th day and rode over the Blue Ridge or Blue Mountains, where the Indians had done much mishief, by burning houses, killing, destroying, and carrying many people away as captives; but Friends had not hitherto been hurt: yet several had left their plantations and fled back again over the Blue Mountains, where the lands had been rightly purchased of the Indians.”

Daniel Staunton in “Life, Travels and Gospel” reports that in December of 1760, “We went forward crossing the Patowmac into Virginia: the next Meetings were Fairfax, Goose Creek, Potts’, or the Gap, some of which were largely favored with solid comfort and satisfaction, there appearing many dear Friends with whom I had unity in Spirit: from the last place we traveled till we got over Shanandore river, and lodged at John Vestal’s.”

The Potts’ or Gap Meeting to which Staunton alludes, was held at Hillsboro and was a meeting held under Fairfax. It was a constant source of disputation and trouble to its Monthly Meeting, delegations often being sent to try to straighten things out with the Potts and Janneys of that section, but to no avail; for instance, Fairfax minutes report in 1761—“As Friends of Goose Creek and Friends of the Gap have not attended business meetings—this meeting appoints Mary Janney, Rachel Hollingsworth and Sara Janney to visit (them) to excite them to more diligence.” In 1765 “—if any disorder appear this meeting appoints David Potts to supervise.” Still in 1765 “—this meeting takes no note of the great deficiencies of the Gap Friends in several particulars—” Meetings were held in the home of David Williams until finally the Gap Meeting came through with a meeting house, as this minute from Goose Creek testifies: “Friends of the Gap reporting that they have built a house for the conveniency of holding their meetings in, and got it now nearly ready, this meeting concurs with their proposal in 1770 of holding it therein accordingly.” The land was two acres conveyed by Mahlon Hough to Stephen Gray, Isaac 33 Nichols, Jr., Thomas Smith and William Hough, “to permit Such People Called Quakers to erect a Meeting House, Schools, Yard and Place of Burial.” In 1804 it is noted that the Gap Meeting is small and in 1805 it is laid down. Sic transit mundi.

South Fork Meeting was another meeting which did not long survive, despite the observation of the traveling minister John Comly in 1829 that it was strong and healthy. Yardley Taylor states that the meeting was active in 1853. A later minister reported that all they thought about was cock fighting and horse raceing. South Fork’s “worldiness” caused “concern” for its members “drank to excess,” “fought, gambled”, “took to horse raceing,” and “were lax morally.” This meeting was laid down shortly after the Civil War, and the administration of its graveyard on a small budget has been a head ache to Goose Creek Meeting ever since.

In 1757, while the Goose Creek Meeting was bursting out of its log meeting house, the county of Loudoun was formed from Fairfax. The trustees acted quickly. “On the 31st day of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and fifty-seven, between William Hatcher of the County of Loudoun and Colony of Virginia, planter of one part, and Issac Nichols, Jacob Janney and Thomas Clows, of the said county, planters of the other part, for five shillings sterling, together with all trees, woods, underwoods, ways, paths, waters, watercourse, easments, profits, commodities, advantages, emoluments, hereditaments, rights, members and appurtentences whatsoever to the same belonging”—were handed over to the said Nichols, Janney and Close for one year in consideration of “one pepper corn in and upon the feast of St. Michael the Archangel if demanded.”

The object of this, one of the first deeds in the Clerk’s office of Loudoun County, was to conform to the Statute of Uses and Possession, for on the very next day, September 21st, 1757, William Hatcher sold to Isaac Nichols, Jacob Janney and Thomas Clows for thirty shillings the very property he had rented them the day before, “to said grantees. In TRUST to suffer and permit such of the people called Quakers—inhabiting said County, to erect and build so many Meeting Houses, School-Houses, Yards or Places of Burial—as they see fit—for the worship of God, the instruction of youth and burial of the dead.” One day had evidently been enough to show that the property was in use by the Religious Society of Friends.

As new settlers and babies arrived in the neighborhood the log meeting house was found too small to accommodate the members, and the stone meeting house across the road, according to the best information, was erected between 1765 and 70. A minute of Fairfax Monthly held on ye 24th of ye 9th month, 1774 reads: “This meeting received a copy of a minute of our Quarterly Meeting dated the 15th of last month, granting the request of Goose Creek Friends, a preparative meeting. This meeting is willing to assist them as far as capable, and appoints Mahlon Janney, Jonathan Myers, John Schooley, Moses Cadwalader, and William Williams to go and sit with them at their first preparative meeting.”

Friends in the Quarterly Meeting of which Fairfax was one part were most cautious in extending monthly meeting status to Goose Creek, possibly from unfortunate experiences elsewhere. We find from the minutes of Warrington and Fairfax Quarterly Meeting the following report of a 34 committee appointed to judge of the expedience of settling a Monthly Meeting at Goose Creek. “Most of our members have visited the preparative meetings consituting Fairfax Monthly Meeting likewise attended the service of that meeting and have since met together and agree to report that we feel most easy to encourage the division proposed—and a Monthly Meeting being settled at Goose Creek. Submitted to the Quarterly Meeting by Isaac Everett, William Ballenger, James Steer, William Kersey, Harman Updegraft, Alan Farquhar, Elisha Kirk, Nathaniel, Jonah Hollingsworth, Ruth Holland, Rachel Hollingsworth, Mary Updegraft.—It is agreed that a Monthly Meeting be settled there accordingly.”

The first monthly meeting was held 12th month 26th, 1785 and William Kenworthy was selected clerk. In the first minutes we read the following: “Joel Lewis and Sara Daniel handed their intentions of marriage before the Meeting.” “Moses Cadwalader and Isaac Nichols are appointed to inquire into Joel’s clearness of other engagements, also to make inquiry into his conversation and what else may be needful.”

About the beginning of the 19th century the membership became too large to be comfortably accommodated in what came to be called “the old Stone Meeting House.” It was not until 1812, with a war going on, that the question of the most practical way of obtaining more room was brought before the meeting. The committee appointed to undertake the building of what came to be “the large new Meeting House,” was Jonas Janney, Isaiah Brown, Israel Janney, Isaac Nichols, Samuel Nichols, Stephen Wilson, Thomas Treham, Jesse Janney, George Walter, Joseph Bradfield and Mahlon Taylor. These gentlemen saw the meeting turn down a proposal to add a log addition to the stone building and finally on 2nd month, 27th, 1817, it was decided to build an entirely new house with Mahlon Taylor, Stephen Wilson and William Kenworthy as the building committee. Kenworthy was most likely treasurer of the committee as his name is signed to all the documents connected with the building operations.

William Kenworthy took in the subscriptions, which ranged all the way from ten dollars to three hundred dollars, with the final total collected being $3,606.00. Daniel Cockrell was to do the job, furnishing all the foundings, for the sum of $3,550.00. In the final report of the committee we find:—“the house being about completed, and in a good measure answerable to the contract, we have paid him the whole of the amount. We also examined his account of expenditures, by which it appears he will suffer considerable loss, by the contract, unless he be allowed some further renumeration.” They stated that it would be difficult to ascertain the exact loss but thought the meeting should pay Cockrell an additional $500.00. A committee was formed which raised the additional amount and paid the same to Cockrell.

On 1st month 27, 1819, Jonathan Taylor, a frequent visitor to Goose Creek Friends Meeting, “Preached the first sermon in our large new Meeting House.”

Jesse Janney who was on the original building committee, never lived to see it used. His foresight, however, solved one of the problems that building a new meeting house created, as is shown by this minute in April, 1819—“The committee continued in the first month last to propose to 35 this Meeting what particular purpose the donation of Jesse Janney, Dec’d, shall be applied to reported that they had agreed to propose that it be applied to enclosing a yard and erecting some necessary buildings at the back of the New Meeting House. With which the Meeting concurred.”

Jesse Hirst, Samuel Nichols, Daniel Janney, Jonas Janney, Mahlon Taylor, William Piggott and Joshua Gore were appointed, “to consider what use the Old Meeting House would be most advantageously applied to, and the probable expense.” The William Piggott named above “Were the rich Billy Piggott what had glass windows in his barn.”

By an old record these reasons are given for establishing a meeting: “Ye objects of Religious assn. are to strengthen ye bonds of love, to encourage to good works, to support ye weak, to comfort ye mourners, to watch over one another for good and to reclaim those who have gone astray.”

A few quotes from the minutes of the meetings and a short review of Friends accomplishments in Loudoun may let us see how well they attained “Ye objects of Religious Assn.” The meetings were frank and firm with their members, for when Goose Creek was “informed that Jonathan Bradfield had joined with light company in dancing,” a committee pleaded with him several times to reform his ways and at last upon his not giving satisfaction he was reluctantly dropped from the rolls.

A more unfortunate event is recorded in the business meeting of the 28th of 1st month, 1819: “A testimony was produced against S— N— which was read, approved, and signed being as follows and handed to the Women’s Meeting. S— N— who has a right of membership in the Society of Friends thru in attention to the dictates of Truth in her own Breast hath so far deviated as to be guilty of fornication for which reproachful conduct we deny her any longer a right of membership until she be enabled & make suitable satisfaction for her offence, which is our desire for her.”

Fairfax and Goose Creek records are a mine of genealogical data. Henry B. Taylor in response to the request from a lady out west once sent her what the minutes had to say about her Quaker ancestors. Several had been “kicked out of meeting or been delt with” for drunkness, fighting and adultery. She received his letter and some time later wrote again to Henry, “that she was glad to state that her family had done better since they had joined the Methodists.”

The Meetings took care of their own, for often entries like the following are found in the minutes: “Samuel Nichols, Seir. produced his account of articles furnished for the support of Martha Scott.” Social security was unknown in those days. At Fairfax we find that a committee was appointed to divide the estate of Richard Brown, deceased; to raise a fund to settle the estate of a member who died poor and in debt; to look after the widows and orphans; to see that members paid their debts; to attend to a member “for encouraging the visits of a man not of our Society in Courtship of his daughter”; to reprove a man “for taking off his hat at a courtsmartial to gain favor with the officer in charge.”

Friends in Loudoun owned slaves in the early years and for the first quarter of a century the Fairfax minutes mention only that “Blacks in the home should be well treated,” and “African children” should be given a useful education. In 1790 a committee was appointed “to care for freed 36 slaves.” Later there was considerable opposition against slavery in the meetings, several Friends were disowned for owning slaves. In 1836 a committee “treated” with William Stone for hiring a slave, and in 1856 Mary Jane Hough was disowned for doing the same, though her husband escaped a like fate by saying he was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. It was not until 1818 that the last ownership of slaves by Friends ceased in Virginia. The story is told that John Woolman talked long and earnestly with William Nichols that he free his slaves but when William died in 1804 there were slaves mentioned in the inventory of his estate. My grandfather, Francis Hogue Janney, was disowned for hiring a slave and marrying out of meeting.

A manumission society was organized in the Oak Dale schoolhouse in 1824 for the purpose of sending slaves to Haiti and Africa, though we have no information of any being sent.

It is my understanding that the small colored settlements at Rock Hill and Guinea Bridge were made on land (rocky and poor, it is true) sold cheaply to free negroes by Friends that they might build a home of their own and not be sold back into slavery.

The first county map published in what was once Prince William County was that of Loudoun by the Quaker Yardley Taylor. This work of enduring value was published in 1853 and up to its time was the finest in Virginia. Yardley was a nurseryman and the beautiful spruce trees around Lincoln are his still living legacy to the beauty of Loudoun.

Yardley Taylor was engaged in the underground railroad trade. He was castigated for it in at least one newspaper article in the fifties written in the peculiar vehemence of the time. Samuel M. Janney never said he helped a slave along physically but he was brought before the county court for publishing that “the owners had no right of property in their Slaves.” His Statement to the court, “That the more you keep this subject before the people the more they will be to my way of thinking,” had the desired effect and the indictment was squashed.

It was in 1803 that Thomas Jefferson writing to a friend said, “The county of Loudoun had been so exhausted and wasted by bad husbandry, that it began to depopulate, the inhabitants going southwardly in search of better lands—it is now become one of the most productive counties of the State of Virginia and the price given for the lands is multiplied manifold.” This was the result of the LOUDOUN SYSTEM of agriculture we have heard so much about. When Alexander Binns (no Quaker) published his little “A Treatise on Practical Farming” in 1803, the County found out what the Friends knew all along: that ground should lie in grass and clover in rotation with the corn and wheat then grown, and what’s more, that lime was a must to get the most out of the grass and clover. Israel Janney on a trip to Chester County, Pennsylvania, had brought down some crushed limestone in his saddlebags and tried it out on some oats. The oats flourished and so did the clover which Israel grew and sold to his neighbors a quart at a time to try to get them started on this grand forage plant. Binns tried all kinds of lime and plaster, he even bought a ton of Israel Janey’s lime and some of his clover seed, but the real service he did was to experiment and publish his results.

The peace testimony of Friends was constantly appearing in the minutes. 37 Members were “spoken to” for attendance at muster; were “delt with” for purchasing substitutes and paying the muster tax. At first the Revolutionary War affected the Fairfax Meeting but little, however, before it was over some fifteen members had been disowned for joining the army. George Washington summed up the general attitude towards the Quakers then in his famous, “Leave the Friends alone for you cannot induce them to swear or fight for or against us. They are harmless, peaceful and industrious people who will produce bread and meat, and if they will not sell it to us, we will take it, if we need it; we need bread and meat as much as we need soldiers.”

During the Civil War soldiers of both sides were quartered in the Waterford Meeting House. When meeting was going on they stepped outside and some even came to meeting and as one writer said, “When they (the Southern soldiers) first came to Waterford they seemed to entertain a strong animosity against Friends—but becoming better acquainted, some of the soldiers acknowledged (that) Friends delt with them more fairly than any they had met on their march from the South, and their prejudices were removed.” It did seem strange to Friends to hold meetings with swords hanging along the walls. A very original account of captivity during The War is given by William Williams. He and Robert J. Hollingsworth were imprisoned in Richmond for two Southerners likewise treated by the Federals. After much travel and hard work on the part of wife Mary and Friends the two were released, though not before suffering many real hardships.

Young Quaker men, being sympathetic with the Union, went North in great numbers during The War, many to Ohio; they obtained jobs and found a living away from Loudoun County and never came back to stay. It was this exodus which began the decline of the meeting at Waterford. Many Friends during the hostilities wished to travel to Baltimore in order to go to Yearly Meeting. To do so they had to run the blockade along the Potomac. Many ignored the guards at the river crossings, but many a one was turned back. Samuel M. Janney was questioned by General (Shanks) Evans after he was arrested for crossing the river during the early part of the war.

General Evans—“Don’t you know that your first duty is to your country.”

S.M.J.—“No, my first duty is to my God.”

General Evans—(After a pause) “Yes, but your second duty is to your country.”

It was just poor business arguing with Sam Janney. In fact he got so tired of arguments every time he wished to cross the Potomac he obtained a pass from the Federal President, which I have seen,—an ordinary page from a school boy’s lined tablet on which was written, “Allow the bearer, Samuel M. Janney, to cross the Potomac at any time.”—A. Lincoln. That pass was just about as all inclusive as one can be made.

Samuel Janney claims that Loudoun County did not have near the troubles of neighbor against neighbor as did East Tennessee, and it can, 38 he says, be credited largely to the influence of Friends. In fact, it was not uncommon when the Confederates occupied the section for the Secessionist neighbors to help out their Union friends and vice versa when the Union occupied the county.

The War cost the Friends of Waterford at least $23,000.00, while those at Goose Creek lost over $80,000.00, including both property damage and livestock loss. In 1872 all loyal Loudoun citizens received $61,821.13 for livestock losses, nothing for property lost by burning. Friends from Philadelphia largely built back the mill of Asa M. Janney where Coit McLean now lives, known as Forest Mills. If it had not been for the generosity of Friends in the North there would have been real suffering among Friends in Loudoun after the end of hostilities.

As early as 1792 a committee on “Spiritous Liquors” was appointed at Fairfax and it must have done a good job, for by 1809 no member was reported to deal in them. In the year 1819 Goose Creek had a committee report that several members had even stopped the giving of liquor to harvest hands and found it to be such a good idea that a minute was written admonishing against its use thereafter at harvest. It was not by accident that Loudoun County was for years the center of the Womans Christian Temperance Union in the state of Virginia. When the Lincoln Lyceum Association Hall was built in 1874 a Men’s Temperance Society, the Good Templars, flourished there for some time. The first performance in the new hall was “Ten Nights in a Barroom.”

Nearly every deed to a meeting house calls for a school house, for the instruction of the young. At Fairfax a school fund was raised in 1779, but it was not until 1802 that a plan for “pious and guarded education for children of Members of the Society” was instituted. The school, built for $400.00, remained open until 1871, when the public school system took over.

At Goose Creek, on the first of 6th month 1815, a committee of William Smith, Mahlon Taylor, Jonas Janney, Stephen Wilson and Samuel Nichols, Sr., were appointed to consider the building of a school on the Meeting lot. The committee reported in favor of the building on the 27th of 6th month, and in 8th month reported to build the school for the sum of about $400.00 or thereabouts; already subscribed was $346.00.

In 8th month, 1816, the following committee was appointed to have care and oversight of the school held in the recently erected schoolhouse: Israel Janney, Amos Gibson, Mahlon Taylor, Isaac Nichols, Bernard Taylor and William Kenworthy. Jonathan Taylor was the first teacher employed.

As committees were released, new ones were appointed whose duties were care and oversight, the hiring of the teachers and visiting the school. On such an occasion, a student of the school has told us, they looked forward to the visit of the dear old Friends, kindly offering to assist with a hard lesson or difficult problem. (How they have changed since his day.) When the lessons were all through the copy books were placed before them 39 for inspection and marked 1, 2, and so on, down to the one containing “pot hooks and hangers” as the curves were then called.

This school continued right on through the summer without any intermission except for two weeks for wheat harvest. No holidays were observed. One teacher taught ten years with only one day off and that the day of his wedding. A roll of the students of the Oak Dale School shows one-third of them to be either Taylors, Nichols, Janneys, Hirsts, or Browns, with one-half the teachers of like surnames. For many years the bequest of Isaac Nichols, deceased, was used to defray the expenses of poor children going to this school.

Early Friends had schools in other places: one a spring house on the Isaac Wilson farm, where several families pitched in together to keep school. There was a log school at Ivandale, one called Summer Hill in front of the present driveway to Thomas Taylor’s home, where P. G. Clark now lives, built of logs hauled by Josh Hatcher, who has been called Loudoun County’s first bank. Another was Flint Hill Academy at Hugesville, run by Friends.

At Springdale, in Lincoln, Samuel M. Janney had a boarding school for girls, charging $32.50 per quarter in 1839-40, with extras, pen, ink, pencils and lights 50 cents additional per quarter. Drawing and French were three dollars extras. Day students paid twenty dollars the quarter. Supplies were taken in lieu of cash. Henry S. Taylor paid his tuitions in 1842-44 with several quarters of beef, barrels of flour, a horse and sheep (the horse for transportation, not eating). Henry B. Taylor states—“dried peaches and apples were standbys in the diet of that day and hominy was the universal substantial breakfast food, one that would stick to the ribs. Samuel Janney bought hominy at Waterford mills, 5 or 6 bushels at a time. No Shredded Wheat or toasted hay for breakfast food at Springdale.”

Before 1908, Will Smith and Josh Brown and others were canvassing the county and Philadelphia neighborhood for money to build a high school. At last $15,000.00 was raised, and in 1908 Lincoln High School opened its doors. The labors and work of erecting this school, the first high school in the county, was borne mostly by Friends. When the building burned in 1926, there was agitation to take the insurance money to another town to rebuild; a lengthy hearing was held at the Goose Creek Meeting House, but people had reckoned without the canniness of the original builders as the deed stated that the money was to be used to build a school within one quarter of a mile of the meeting house and that was where it was rebuilt. For the year the rebuilding was going on the students were taught in the meeting house, the present store building, and the old Phin Janney store building in Lincoln.

Friends engaged in businesses of all kinds, of course, stores, iron foundries, such as the William H. Taylor foundry at Lincoln, where the celebrated Taylor plow, bells, and frog doorstops were made, woolen mills, flour and grist mills and the like. Though transportation was a difficult problem Friends were right up front in the first turnpike and railroad ventures. Many a Quaker trunk contained crumbling shares of the stocks. 40 Israel Janney was a trustee of the Leesburg-Dranesville turnpike and Phineas Janney of Alexandria, treasurer of the road from there into Alexandria. Phineas Janney’s reports are on file at Richmond, and are referred to by one writer as being “full of these and thous and common sence.”

The meetings became a sort of Chautauqua for visiting Friends having a ‘concern’ and many came to hear these people from far off. John Woolman visited Fairfax in the early 1740’s. The famous Elias Hicks visited in 1798, and several times later; Stephen Grollet in 1801 and Richard Mott in 1801; John Kersey (the book has it Jersey Kersey), a famous Quaker preacher and author of the driest book I have ever read; Elizabeth Robson, Bartholomew Wister and Ruth Ely, 1826. Elizabeth Robson was an English Friend with very Orthodox views as was Thomas Shillitoe, another English Friend who came to Loudoun on a preaching mission in 11th month 1827. Also gracing the fronting benches of the Loudoun Meetings were Elisha Bates, John Comly, Edward Hicks, whose primitive paintings are so much in demand, and the famous Benjaman Hallowell who started Robert E. Lee in mathematics.

Stephen Grellet, Elizabeth Robson, and Thomas Shillitoe were the so-called Orthodox Friends whose ministry throughout the country helped to cause such sad havoc in Friends meetings and brought about the separation of 1827-28. Loudoun Friends at this time were little affected by the ideas advanced by these people, based mostly on theology and evangelism which at the time was traveling thru many of the churches of the land. Some eight families took off from Goose Creek Meeting only, Fairfax being affected not at all. These Orthodox Friends, as they came to be called as opposed to the so-called Hicksite Friends, built a meeting house south of the graveyard in Lincoln on the next hill, a corner now of J. C. Chappell’s heirs. Here they had a meeting until the Civil War, when it was laid down.

Along about the early 1880 this sad chapter in Friends history had to be reopened when Richard and Mary Snowden Thomas, brother and sister from Baltimore, raised the clarion call of evangelism. At first, in 1885, the Orthodox meetings were held in the Lincoln Lyceum Hall until a house could be built. In all about eight families withdrew from Goose Creek to form this new Lincoln Monthly Meeting of Friends which occurred in April of 1887 in their new meeting house. Daniel J. Hoge, Clark and Rebecca I. Brown were appointed overseers with Joseph Pancoast as treasurer. A subordinate meeting was organized at Silcott Springs in 1894 but its life was short, being closed in the winter of 1904-5 and the building sold in 1933.

As is usual with such religious separations there was too much feeling on both sides, and I am not going to say there was not. Now we can laugh at Will Brown’s sally to one of the Orthodox driving by the old meeting to go up the road to the Orthodox meeting on a very blustery, wet day: Brown, “Well, Hoge, the new road to heaven is a damn wet one, isn’t it?” Or an Orthodox Friends referring to the Hicksites (in the words 41 of a Hicksite), as “those cigarette smoking, whiskey drinking, Christ rejecting Hicksite Friends.”

Fairfax Meeting House was burnt in 1887, and in spite of the decrease in numbers it was rebuilt at a cost of $4,840.00. Its young men having gone away to the west and the opportunities limited to educated persons, as the Quakers undoubtedly were, the meeting lost members until the sad day came when it was laid down in 1926. The last paper was signed in 1929 and the final grand meeting held with many a Friend wiping away a furtive tear.

Goose Creek Friends were not paying their preacher either, for during a terrible wind and rain storm in 1943 half the roof and the west end of their meeting house was blown off and in, making the house unusable. The Orthodox Friends came to the rescue and meetings were held together in their house until the Goose Creek meeting house could be rebuilt. Friends found out they could get along together and like it. All the younger Friends wondered what it had all been about anyway, so after the grand opening of the newly reconstructed meeting house in 1948, the Goose Creek United Monthly Meeting of Friends came into being in 1950.

Friends have stepped on many toes with their advanced views, but they have been right so often as to gain much respect throughout the country. That their worship is not understood by many is well known and even as early as 1776 Nichols Cresswell went to meeting in Leesburg and reported, “Mr. Brooks and I went to the Quaker Meeting, but were too late, tho it would have been equally as well as if we had been sooner, for the spirit did not move any of them to speak. Can’t conceive what service the people can receive by grunting and groaning for two or three hours without speaking a word. This is a stupid religion, indeed.”

The Religious Society of Friends is as the name implies a group of people with the religious conviction that one’s life is the experience of love, love of God and love of one’s fellow man. It is a living fellowship rather than a sacred institution. From this view comes all of its good. It affirms that it is the Presence in the Midst—that God is everywhere—that every man is endowed with this light within. Religion for Friends is not apart from life nor for special days. The early Friends had no Christmas nor Easter, every day is equal in the sight of God. It is “the life we lead, the things we do” which count; as witness their history in Loudoun: that African children should be educated; that men should be free; a man should not demean himself by taking off his hat to another; that work is noble; that the laborer is worthy of his hire; that no man should lose while you gain; that children must be educated to live a fuller life for mankind; that no one has the right to take a life that only God can give; that the fallen should do better and come back into the fold, “which is our desire for her.”

Friends hold their meetings for worship unplanned; with no constant jumping up to do this or sitting down to do that; in a plain room without 42 distracting influences, trying to find in a silent communion, enfolded by His presence, the spiritual guidance they seek.

Sources other than acknowledged in the text: Henry B. Taylor, Howell S. Brown, Mabel N. Lybolt, L. H. Taylor, for minutes, notes, articles, manuscripts, and consultation; Landmarks of Old Prince William; Briscoe Goodhart, The Loudoun Rangers; James Head, The History of Loudoun County; Loudoun Historical Society Bulletin, 1958; Samuel M. Janney, Memoirs and History of Friends; Hopewell Friends, History of Hopewell Friends Meeting; Hinshaw, Quaker Genealogy; Frederick Gutheim, The Potomac, from “Rivers of America” series.

A Lecture Delivered Before Members of the Society, January 15, 1965
By Col. Trevor N. Dupuy

At the outset I should make clear that I have no credentials in historiography. In fact I do not have even have the so-called Union Card for the professional academic historian—a Ph. D. degree—but I do believe that I have enough practical experience in the writing of history, and in teaching it at three universities, to warrant having some thoughts on the nature of history, and of its uses. And I have another reason, as well, as you will see.

Let me start by explaining how I intend to treat this important topic: The uses of history. First I shall give you my interpretation of what the nature of history is. Next I will offer some very general thoughts on the uses of history. Then I would like to make one or two comments on how I visualize history being currently useful for Loudoun County. Finally, I shall tell you a little bit about my own day-to-day involvement in several very specific uses of history.

First, then, for my views on what history is—and what it is not. Several months ago there was an interesting debate in the New York Times Magazine about the nature of history, provoked by an article written by Barbara Tuchman, the historian whose public reputation is based primarily upon her magnificent book, The Guns of August. The essence of the debate was whether history is what actually happened in the past, or is merely the record of what happened. The subtle distinction, of course, is comparable to that involved in the question of whether there can be noise—as from a tree falling in the middle of an impenetrable forest—if there is no ear to hear the sound waves. I don’t intend to revive the debate; I merely want to suggest that there are various ways of looking at the nature of history. You are about to be exposed to my way of looking at it.

As I see it, recorded history is society’s memory. For society as a whole, as well as for an individual, memory can provide insights, wisdom, 44 and the recollection of past experiences which are in some way relevant to every new experience—no matter how unanticipated the manifestation of that new experience may be. And of course each new experience adds to the information stored in that amazing electronic computer—the human brain. Sometimes the new experience reinforces the information already stored there, sometimes it qualifies the existing information, but always the new experience is in some way relevant to events in the past which are already recorded in the memory. This same process is to some degree true of society as a whole.

Every event of significance in mankind’s past can enrich the memory of human society, and can be used to the future benefit of mankind—if some way can be found to relate that experience to current issues and problems, without distortion, through some kind of memory process. The historian, of course, is the essential element of this memory process.

In considering this relationship of experience to memory, it is pertinent to point out that even the most startling new scientific development invariably has had a historical background of its own. New wonders of technology and science all have a direct connection with the past, not only through the evaluation and analysis of empirical records, but also through discontinuities or continuities which exist between the new development and what has happened in the past.

If there is anything to my suggestion that historical experience is the basic material for the memory of society, then the record of past experience is a natural resource, which can and should be mined for the present and future benefit of mankind. Save possibly in the area of science, human society has never come near to efficiently exploiting this resource of its own experience.

When it is mined, this natural resource can make its principal contribution to social memory by enriching wisdom. We have a tendency to speak of the “lessons” of history, as though they were immutable—I do this as much as anyone—but I realize that in a literal sense this is impossible. One can never recreate, in every detail and particular, the exact circumstances of a past event. History can never exactly repeat itself, and so its so-called lessons cannot be applied blindly or automatically.

But if history doesn’t repeat itself it does, in the words of Herman Kahn, paraphrase itself. Kahn, incidentally, is a scientist and not a historian, but he, like Toynbee and other historians, recognizes that human and institutional relationships in modern times can often bear a close resemblance to events of the past. One can discern many parallel patterns in history, and both trends and specific events are often directly comparable between these patterns. The rise and fall of nations and dynasties, for instance. And since human reactions to circumstances and stimuli are not ever likely to change radically, it is easy to note danger signals from certain circumstances in related patterns of events, and to see what kinds of actions have been successful in certain circumstances in the past, and which have failed, in similar patterns.

Thus, while rejecting the idea that history teaches us lessons from the past, I am convinced that history will widen our horizons, revealing new perspective, providing insights, and generally enriching wisdom in using good judgment in dealing with the present. There is still one caution, 45 however. If there is any immutable lesson which history teaches, it is that no quantity of insights can ever replace or substitute for good judgement or the basic intellectual capacity which experience transforms into wisdom.

I have tried to indicate what I think the nature of history is, and in the process I have given you some very general thoughts about the use and utility of history. I would like to pursue this question of uses of history a bit further.

What really do any of us have in mind in speaking of the “Uses of History?” Is it history for the enrichment of one’s life? For the lessons (so-called) to be gained from experience? For developing patriotism or a sense of one’s heritage? For making money?

At this point it might be useful to recall that a number of ancient and not-so-ancient philosophers have commented on the value and importance of history. Let me simply refresh your memory on four that I happen to like:

Polybius: For it is history and history alone, which will mature our judgment and prepare us to take right views, whatever may be the crisis or the posture of affairs.

Shakespeare: The past is prologue.

Santayana: Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

John Gardner: “In the renewing society the historian consults the past in the service of the present and the future.”

But, like so many philosophical sayings, these aphorisms are somewhat cryptic. We understand them, but they require some elaboration, and possibly some interpretation.

Many academic historians would insist that history doesn’t need to have a use. Its existence is as inevitable as life itself; as last night’s sunset, this morning’s sunrise. These scholars feel that the study of the events which make up history is rewarding in itself without any further direct use. It is a part of the well-educated man or woman.

There are other people, of course, who would insist that—save for the scholars who teach it—history has no more utility than knowledge of Latin and Greek. Having found no adult use for the contents of their history textbooks, such people might be pardoned for feeling that history is merely the useless foible of educators. (I leave it up to you whether it is appropriate to apply the same logic to the so-called dead languages.)

Yet, if there is any validity to what I said earlier about history being the memory of human society—and of individual humans as well—I suspect that history has had some utility—direct and indirect—to even the most pragmatic amongst us. Certainly something of what was taught us in our history courses has entered our memories, even if subconsciously so. Otherwise we could not have any opinions about it. It is even more certain that the reader of a daily newspaper will retain some recollection of what he has read in that paper, and then will relate these recalled events to what he does, what he thinks, what he talks about, and what he reads in the next day’s newspaper. These events, recorded in the newspaper, are as much history as events which happened in the days of 46 Roman power, as recorded by Julius Caesar, Livy, and other writers of those times. Thus the man who reads a daily newspaper, or a weekly newsmagazine, is making definite use of history—otherwise he wouldn’t bother to read!

Equally, events which happened to us in our daily work last year, last week, even today, are as much historical events as things which occurred centuries ago. These events are experience, and our recollection of these day to day events are used by all of us in planning and doing things in subsequent days. Deprived of this memory, we would be both useless and helpless. The same is true of society as a whole. Recognizing this, there are economic and social historians who concentrate their efforts on events of the very recent past, in order to provide useful inputs to the memories of scholars, policy makers, and others who are concerned with modern economic or social affairs. It is beside the point whether or not we believe the job could be done more systematically.

Even more basically, some of us believe that a sense of history, and a consciousness of participation in history, is a basic human need. Now there are, of course, different kinds of basic human needs—there are the powerful and elemental forces of life and the preservation and continuation of life; instincts and drives relating to food, shelter, sex, parenthood and survival. Then there are the other, more social, needs—as for recreation, privacy, living space, and the like. It is in this latter category that I would place the need for a sense of history. Aside from the memory aspect, to which I have already alluded, there is an enrichment and humanizing effect on peoples’ lives resulting from a consciousness of making history as they vote in an election, testify at a local hearing, help create a local institution, or work at responsible jobs. Essential to this enrichment is some kind of prior realization of what history is, and how these personal activities can contribute to it.

What I have been saying so far has all been rather theoretical and ethereal. I believe it is probably time for me to come down to earth with some practical uses of history, as I see them, and as I have personally experienced them.

First let me say a few words about how the use of history can be directly relevant to Loudoun County. Before going further I should explain to you that, even though I am not a resident, I am no stranger to the County or to Leesburg. For about twenty years the Dupuys have been property-owners in Loudoun County. As my father used to comment, we are thus modern recruits of the Army of Northern Virginia. My wife and I even have plans for a house which we someday expect to build on our property on the banks of Goose Creek.

So I know something about the county, and something about its history. Not enough to discuss in any detail with this group—but enough to know that it is an appropriate place to settle for one who (like myself) has forebears who fought on both sides in the Civil War (a conflict which, as most of you know, my friends, Pat Andrews, always refers to as the War of Northern Aggression; I won’t bother you with the details of my many Civil War controversies with Pat; I’ll simply mention the fact that our principal dispute centers over the question whether McClellan was a greater detriment to the Union cause than Braxton 47 Bragg was to that of the Confederacy.)

To return to history and Loudoun County.

A number among you know my father—who is still at heart a recruit in the Army of Northern Virginia, and who left Loudoun County only because of pressure on him from those of the family who felt that his age and health required a less rigorous life and a more accessible home than conditions permitted in their isolated house on Goose Creek. While he lived here, he took the time to immerse himself in Loudoun County History; in fact, he probably should be talking to you tonight instead of me.

Anyway, I recall his telling me about the old canal locks in front of his house—long since inundated by the dam built largely on what used to be their property. These canal lock ruins clearly demonstrated the relationship of past events to the present—and of the usefulness of being able to interpret such relevance. Even submerged, they are mute evidence of a dream of mass transportation—movement of Loudoun County produce to the Potomac. This dream was a bubble pricked by the unexpectedly rapid growth of the railroads. The local railroad, in turn, has given way to the equally unexpected rapid growth of road transportation, which has not only brought this rural region into the suburban circle of the nearby metropolis, but has actually brought about the appearance within the county of the major metropolitan terminus for a still newer means of mass transportation—and of course I am speaking of Dulles Airport.

This is only one of the many manifestations of the fact that history is certainly sweeping Loudoun County into the Eastern Seaboard Megalopolis. This historical fact has great relevance and use to this county—and I should think poses a challenge to this Historical Society.

I am sure the county must have some plans for coping with this historical fact, and I imagine that this Society has probably done much thinking about its role in these plans. But let me mention anyhow, at the risk of telling you things you have already thought of, how I visualize using history for planning purposes in Loudoun County right now.

I understand that Fairfax County has recently begun to prepare to identify its historical landmarks. There are several reasons for such identification, particularly to permit the county to preserve the essentials of its past history, as embodied in places, objects and memories, while still participating in present history. I would hope that Loudoun County has done, or will do, the same, relying upon this Society for advice and counsel.

I should like to spend the next few minutes in telling you about some examples of practical use of history by an organization created for the specific purpose of making use of history.

This is the Historical Evaluation and Research Organization—which we modestly call HERO. HERO is dedicated to stimulating improved use of historical experience—as well as improved use of the professional historians who are most competent to marshal and to evaluate historical experience—in the development of national security policy.

Interestingly, and not surprisingly, we have encountered some skepticism amongst Government officials and others who had some doubts 48 about the need for or the utility of our principal function: The application of historical experience to the development of current and future national security policy. There were two principal reasons for the skepticism. First, there are a number of people who feel that the tremendous technological advances of our times have totally invalidated any possible relevance of the past experience which is the stuff of history. Secondly, there are those who feel that the competent Government specialist has no need for the services of the historian; he is usually far more conversant with his field of interest than any academic scholar can be; he has his files available for documentation; he knows what facts can be considered relevant, and he will include these in any statement which may be required of “Facts Bearing on the Problem.”

As to the first of these doubts, as I shall show, we have clearly demonstrated the relevance of history to current policy issues. For the second, we believe that the dangers of the concept of “every man his own historian” are becoming apparent to many Government officials. The historical background of Government specialists, even in their own area of specialty, is not only spotty, but their recollection of historical experience is limited mostly to those examples which tend to support their own pre-conceived ideas. Furthermore, their own Governmental documentation is often inadequate in most areas other than in classified documents. More and more people are beginning to recognize the ability of the trained historian to bring out all of the pertinent facts, and to weigh their relative value far more objectively than is possible for the average person without historical training.

Thus, HERO is convinced of the utility of our primary mission of mining the rich natural resource which we think history is, and also of refining the ore so as to permit history to serve mankind, as philosophers have always said it should. This has never been done before, either here or in any other country, to the best of my knowledge—though, as a historian, I am aware of the danger of using such absolute terms as “never,” or “the first ever.”

Rather than going into any generalized explanation of how we go about mining and refining this resource, I think I can demonstrate how we do it—and at the same time give concrete examples of some uses of history—by talking about some of HERO’s past and current work.

The first study which HERO completed was done for the Sandia Corporation—a special contracting agency for the Atomic Energy Commission. The purpose of this study—which we dubbed “Pre-Alert”—was to ascertain the extent to which historical example and experience could be useful in the area of military command and control. The Sandia Corporation had the responsibility for developing the so-called “black box” to provide foolproof, automatic controls which will prevent accidental or unauthorized employment of nuclear weapons systems. Our study was unclassified, so we didn’t get into the classified details of these foolproof, automatic controls. Our task was to assess the likelihood that such controls might be so complicated, or might be so inhibiting to individual initiative, as to preclude adequate military response in the event of unforeseen emergency conditions or circumstances.

Sandia had, of course, called upon the psychologists and sociologists 49 to study this problem but the results of these scientific studies were not completely satisfactory in synthetic “model” environments. So we were asked to see if anything could be learned from historical experience.

After surveying the history of weapon systems, and the sometimes divergent history of command and control systems, we came to the conclusion that much could be learned from history about the human aspects of command and control. We laid out a program for a detailed investigation of a number of pertinent case studies, and some general areas for intensive research. We don’t know how useful our study was to the Sandia Corporation. We do know, however, that it aroused considerable interest in the Army. And it proved to us, without question, that our thesis about the relevance of history to current and future problems was as sound in the nuclear era, and with respect to nuclear weapon systems, as we had believed would be the case.

Our next study was for the U. S. Arms Control and Disarmament Agency. Entitled “Riposte,” the purpose of this study was to survey historical experience in the field of international treaties, to analyze this experience, and to point out lessons applicable to current and future treaty negotiations and treaty enforcement, particularly as this experience might be relevant to arms control treaties.

For over a year we surveyed and analyzed modern treaty experience, particularly looking at instances of violations of treaties, and enforcement measures that were taken, or that could have been taken, in response to these violations. We gave special attention to the enforcement (and non-enforcement) of the Treaty of Versailles; to sanctions and treaty enforcement experience of international organizations like the League of Nations, the Organization of American States, and the United Nations; and to the details of experience in negotiating and enforcing agreements with the Communists since World War II, such as those dealing with access rights to Berlin, the Geneva Conferences of 1954 and 1961 on Southeast Asia, and the Korean Armistice.

We were very pleased with the results of this study, and we understand that the Arms Control Agency was, also. We demonstrated how our Government may profit from its own experience and from that of others in the fields of treaty negotiation and enforcement.

Perhaps the most significant study we have done to date, and the one which gives promise of having the greatest impact upon policy makers, is one which we completed for the Army last fall, entitled “Historical Trends Related to Weapon Lethality.” The purpose of the study was to provide useful insights to men who are trying to develop new doctrines, and new organizations, for the most efficient possible employment of the terribly destructive new weapons which are available to the Army today. In the process we surveyed the history of weapons development from the Fourth Century B. C. to the end of the Korean War.

This comprehensive survey provided us with a formidable mass of data on weapon experience in the history of war. We grouped related facts according to novel schemes of classification and analysis, and then tried to ascertain what these groupings meant. From this we derived a number of most interesting conclusions. Let me mention a few:

We learned that the mere invention of a new weapon has almost 50 never affected the course of world events, or altered the balance of power. The real impact of weapons on events comes from the assimilation of weapons into an effective military system. (By assimilation of a weapon we mean its integration into the nation’s milita organization and doctrine in such a way that it is employed effectively and confidently, and that its employment usually results in a relative decrease in the user’s casualties, while permitting the user to inflict higher casualties on military forces that have not assimilated it.) One interesting pattern which emerged from our analysis of assimilation, incidentally, is the fact that it has almost always, through history, taken at least one full generation, or about 20 years, for a weapon to become assimilated after its first adoption. This time lag of about 20 years seems still to be with us today, despite the accelerating trends of technological weapon development. Nuclear weapons, first employed in 1945, have not yet been effectively assimilated into a tactical system by our army or—to the best of our knowledge—any other army—though of course the weapons are available, and can be used.

Of the many significant conclusions that emerged from this study, however, one seemed to us to be especially important: New and effective tactical systems in history seem to have been more the result of new ideas than of new or improved weapons. New and imaginative concepts have often permitted inferior forces to overcome handicaps in numbers and/or equipment. We suspect that Vietnam is no exception to this.

Another thing which we did in this report was to develop a basis for calculating what we term “lethality indices” for all weapons in history, from hand-to-hand implements of antiquity to nuclear explosives. Using data derived from history, we have been able to calculate the relative theoretical efficiency of weapons, and have discovered that these lethality indices are consistent with actual combat experience in a number of wars which we analyzed in depth. This, in turn, permitted us to develop a quantitative relationship between lethality, mobility, and dispersion in combat.

As a military historian, what we did, and what we ended up with, in that study are particularly fascinating to me. I might add that we have also stimulated very gratifying interest in the Army. This very afternoon I presented a briefing of the study report to the Army staff, and discussed some new, and we think potentially important, tactical concepts which the results of the study seem to point out to us.

Before leaving the subject of this study, I wish to mention that one of the members of your Society—Mr. Marshall Andrews—was a very important contributor to that study.

HERO has also done quite a bit of work in a rather different field of historical research—in which we have concerned ourselves with the teaching of history in American schools—which also demonstrates how history can be used.

We became interested in the subject of the teaching of American history in our schools for two reasons. First, because we have reason to think that the teaching of history has not been as good or as effective as it can be and should be. Too often children think of history as one of the dullest of their subjects, instead of one which can provide endless, 51 dramatic fascination. And, as historians, we saw in this situation the possibility that historians could make a direct contribution to one of the great social problems of our time: the alienation of important minority groups, particularly in our large urban areas, from the rest of American society.

It is our hypothesis that improvement in the teaching of history will not only be a contribution to American education in general, but may also be a start toward the building of a bridge between these alienated minorities and the main stream of American society. This will be no easy task. The imaginations of Negro, Puerto Rican, and Mexican-American children will not be stimulated by such simple methods as teaching them about great American heroes—nor teaching them about Negro, Puerto Rican or Mexican-American heroes. History and historians can play only a contributory role in this task, which will require the cooperation of many different specialists. We know that two apparently divergent results must be achieved by this cooperation: improvement of the self-concept and self-respect of these minority children, who have been largely second-class citizens, while at the same time stimulating their feeling of association with the larger white majority.

As a start toward testing—and we hope proving—our hypothesis that history can help in the effort to achieve these apparently divergent goals, we developed a five-city survey plan to see how history is being taught in five major cities, and particularly how it is being taught to the underprivileged minority groups in those cities. We developed these plans with the cooperation of the school authorities in New York, Washington, D.C., Detroit, Phoenix, and Los Angeles. We are currently seeking funds which will permit us to undertake this planned survey which, in turn, will provide the basis for long-range research and experimentation in the teaching of history to underprivileged minority groups.

Without waiting for the survey, we have already begun one small experimental program ourselves. We came to the conclusion, while we were developing our survey plans, that if History is to have any effective impact on these minority group children, they should be exposed to it as early as possible, and as effectively as possible, before they have become embittered and alienated in their reaction to the social conditions in which they live. We accordingly developed a teachers’ source-book for teachers of kindergarten and the early elementary grades. The book comprises 27 separate essays on important holidays commemorating events of significance in American history. I can perhaps best describe the book, and what we hope it will accomplish, by reading two paragraphs from its introduction:

“‘Holidays’ has been written primarily for elementary school teachers who are searching for ways to communicate meaningfully and with balanced perspective to very young children those values inherent in American history: patriotism, heroism, self-reliance, and tolerance, to name but a few. The book is intended to help busy teachers who need brief, pithy, scrupulously-researched essays that are laced with ideas for presentation. The authors are specialists, whose experience and scholarship have particularly qualified them to write with authority and accuracy on their subjects.

“Included in this book are regularly celebrated American holidays for all races, creeds, and regions across the entire nation. Among these are: Alamo Day, celebrating the memory both of valiant Mexican-Texans and Anglo-Americans who died together for the principle of self-government; United Nations Day and Pan-American Day, which both symbolize world unity and peace; American Indian Day and Commonwealth Day, neither widely celebrated, but both undeniably American. From these and the other stories youngsters can start to learn about their privileges and responsibilities as members of a pluralistic, democratic society. They will also begin to establish a useful base of historical knowledge upon which they can build in subsequent school years.”

In this endeavor, and in some related educational-historical projects, we believe that we are indeed making some very good use of history in the national interest.

I have one last HERO project which I should like to mention as being relevant to the uses of history.

You will recall my concept of history as society’s memory. Several of us, through long and bitter experience, have come to the conclusion that the memory of the Government is not very good. We are dismayed by the duplication of effort in Government research and in policy-making; by the lack of communication which exists between people doing related work in different Government offices, and by the lack of communication within individual Government offices—which is another way of saying lack of continuity.

We have also been struck by the fact that the richest single source of material for the Government’s memory has been almost ignored, and never organized or utilized systematically. This is the mass of information on all of the varied activities of the Government which is available in unclassified publications prepared in and for the Congress. For all practical purposes, this material is not even usefully available, in organized form, to members of Congress or its committees. Accordingly, HERO has decided to do something about this.

We are in the process of developing what we call a “Defense Memory System.” This comprises the collection of all Congressional documents dealing with national defense, abstracting them, then indexing the abstracts so that queries on any aspects of national defense can be answered by going directly—via the index—to the abstract or abstracts which deal with the topic in question, and—if necessary—going to the basic document itself. What we are doing, essentially, is to apply to the conceptual field of non-technical, non-scientific policy-type information the same kind of modern storage and retrieval methods which have been so successfully applied to the physical sciences, to engineering data, and to hardware information.

We are in the process of preparing a prototype of this system for demonstration next month to Congress and to possible private users of this historical data. In this project, then, we at HERO are not only making use of history, we are organizing it so that others can use it as well.

Which is, I think, about as much as I can say about the uses of history.

By Col. A. B. Johnson
U.S. Army (Ret.)

Following the battle of Second Manassas General Lee brought his Army of Northern Virginia through Loudoun County for the first invasion of the North. One of Lee’s prime considerations for the movement through Loudoun is best described in a letter from Lee to President Davis dated September 4, 1862: “I did not think it advantageous to follow the enemy into his fortifications. If I had possessed the necessary ammunition I should be unable to supply provisions for the troops. I therefore determined to draw troops into Loudoun County where forage and provisions could be obtained.”

White’s Ford, a low water crossing of the Potomac, offered his best access to the Maryland shore. (White’s Ford is not to be confused with present day White’s Ferry. The ford is about three miles upstream, and can be reached via Routes 661 and 656, east of Route 15).

General J. E. B. Stuart’s cavalry was to screen the advance, and in doing so he sent Colonel T. T. Munford with the 2nd Virginia Cavalry toward Leesburg. Munford’s mission was to clear the enemy from the river crossings, and in so doing he was to strike the “notorious Means” who was thought to be at or near Leesburg.

Captain Samuel C. Means of Waterford had organized a company of Union cavalry known as the Loudoun Rangers from the northern part of Loudoun. This act had embittered the Confederates and at every opportunity they tried to annihilate these Virginians who would not support 54 the State. The Rangers had been roughly handled a few days before at the Waterford Baptist Church by Major E. V. White’s 35th Battalion, Virginia Cavalry.

On September 1, Munford left the army and bivouaced at Goose Creek near where it crosses Route 7. In the meantime, Cole’s Independent Maryland Cavalry (3 companies) and Means’ depleted company were in Leesburg.

On the 2nd as Munford approached Leesburg he divided his command, sending Captain Irvine of Company C with a squadron to drive through the town. With the remainder of the regiment, Munford turned off Route 7 in a northerly direction, crossing the Edwards Ferry road and the Trundle plantation (Exeter). While Munford was making this flanking movement, Captain Irvine charged into the town wounding four of the Loudoun Rangers and causing Means to withdraw north on present day Route 15.

Cole’s three companies had taken position on a slight eminence about a mile north of town. In taking up this position Cole had dismounted his troopers and sent the horses to the rear near Big Spring; one holder was in charge of four horses, thus depleting his fighting strength by one fourth. (Cole’s line was in the “V” between old Route 15 and the new part that has been recently straightened, and approximately on the ridge at the entrance to Ball’s Bluff.)

Fences bordered the road and a wheat field in shocks was on the southeast side. Irvine’s squadron had followed Means from the town and was firing from behind the shocks as they drove the Loudoun Rangers back on Cole’s line.

Irvine had performed his work well, for in attacking from the front he had allowed Munford with the rest of the regiment to circle around behind Cole unnoticed. Suddenly from the rear came the horseholders at a full gallop shouting, “Here come the Rebs.” Munford with most of his regiment riding boot to boot and shouting at the top of their lungs was upon them. No time was lost in formal maneuvers as Cole shouted to his men to mount up and charge to the right—the melee was on. Some of the blue troopers were shot down and sabred before they could mount, others were captured on foot; many with blood streaming down their faces from sabre cuts on the head.

The melee developed into a running fight as Cole led his men toward the mountain road that runs past the Burdett Wright farm toward Waterford. Again the sabre was freely used as it was impossible to reload revolvers on moving horses. The pursuit continued for about two miles 55 until Munford called a halt to secure horses and prisoners that had been passed in the chase.

From existing reports it is difficult to reconcile either the strength or the casualties for the opposing forces in this engagement. Munford officially reported his strength at 163. This figure seems low, for at this early date in the war a company of only 16 men was the exception rather than the rule. Munford adds further that: “A squadron of 40 men under Captain H. Clay Dickinson disgraced itself, having run as far as Goose Creek and failed to support the regiment in the fight.” The usual Confederate system for reporting strength was to count only those on the field with musket in hand; thus, it is possible that the 2nd Virginia Cavalry had a pre-battle strength of 203 of all ranks.

The Confederates list only 2 killed and 5 badly wounded; evidently there were no slightly wounded or they failed to report them.

The Union strength was not reported officially. Goodhart, the company historian, estimates the Loudoun Rangers had 30 men on the field. Its casualties were 1 killed, 6 wounded and 4 captured; four of the wounded also fell into the hands of the enemy. Cole’s strength may be placed at 150 or an average of 50 men per company for his three companies. The battalion historian gives the names, which total 6 killed, 27 wounded, of whom 11 were captured, as the losses sustained.

Goodhart says that this engagement coming in such close succession after the debacle at Waterford, and before the company had attained proficiency in discipline and drill, seriously affected recruiting and nearly broke up the company.

It is interesting to note the high percentage of officers among the casualties; this is no doubt due to the fact that in cavalry the officers rode in front and led the charge.

The psychological effect of a mounted charge, particularly when a surprise, is powerful. In this instance the 2nd Virginia Cavalry with about 200 men was reported by Cole as an entire brigade.

Cole’s great mistake was of course in not posting pickets at his rear and flanks to prevent just what happened, a surprise attack. He left the Smart’s Mill road, less than a half mile from his flank, entirely unguarded; a fatal mistake as it left open a road mostly sheltered from view for Munford to follow to his rear.

Munford appears to have handled his operations without flaw. He kept his men well under control, even in pursuit of Cole, which so often broke up commands and caused the men to scatter and not answer recall. 56 He was completely successful in clearing the enemy from the area to allow Lee’s infantry and artillery to make uninterrupted marches to the river crossings.

Source material has been drawn from the following sources:

Goodhart: The History of the Loudoun Rangers

Newcomer: Cole’s Maryland Cavalry

Official Records: Vol. XIX parts 1 & 2

Manuscripts of an unpublished history of the 2nd Virginia Cavalry now in the library at Duke University

• Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook is public-domain in the country of publication.
• Silently corrected a few palpable typos.
• Transcribed in-photo text.
• In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by _underscores_.