Gibson Girl Was Unrivaled Number One

Betty Grable, Rita Hayworth, Gloria Vanderbilt, Lauren Bacall, Ava Gardner, Doris Day, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Ali McGraw, Cher, Bianca Jagger. From the World War II era in very rough chronological order, with much overlapping and many omissions, these have been young women who have attracted a kind of national emulation. In her day each had boasted nationwide coteries of admirers who have looked to her - for whatever reasons of figure, face, dress and style - as the ideal of American womanhood.

The point, perhaps is not so much that the ideal changes with mood, but that at no time in the last four or more decades had there been a single national ideal. Clara Bow, the "It" girl of the 20s, more nearly achieved it in her time, but she was by no means without rivals.

But, at the turn of the century (admittedly before the silver screen promoted such a proliferation of candidates), for the first and last time there was an unrivalled Number One: the Gibson Girl.

Irene Langhorne Gibson of Virginia was perhaps the last of the "Southern Belles." She was unquestionably America's first pinup.

The future Gibson Girl was born in Danville, a daughter of Col. and Mrs. Chiswell Dabney Langhorne. (One of her sisters was to become Lady Astor, the first woman to sit in Parliament.) Her father, scion of a once wealthy Lynchburg family, emerged from the Confederate Army at 21 with assets of one patched suit, one barrel of good whiskey and a bride, Nancy Witcher Keene of Danville.

Chiswell Langhorne failed to strike it rich as a Danville tobacco auctioneer. But in Richmond, where he had moved his family in 1885, he eventually landed a construction contract with the Chesapeake and Ohio through the good offices of his wartime commanding officer. From then on, Langhorne reaped a satisfying share from railroading. He bought Mirador, (pictured at left) an Abemarle County mansion, as a retreat from Richmond and as a showcase for his golden-haired, blue-eyed debutante daughter.

The fame of Irene Langhorne's beauty spread, and resulted in a profusion of invitations. She starred at the Philadelphia Assembly in 1893 and at New Orleans' Carnival German in 1894, whereupon Ward McAllister requested the honour of Irene Langhorne's presence to lead the grand march at the Patriarch Ball at Delmonico's in New York.

McAllister was New York's social arbiter (he restricted high society there to 400, the capacity of Mrs. Astor's ballroom); the Patriarch Ball was the social pinnacle of the Gay Nineties. Irene Langhorne was a white-satined triumph, and not unsurprisingly became entraced with New York. She returned for the Horse Show in 1895 and was even given a dinner at the scene of her previous year's triumph, Delmonico's.

Two close friends, young but already well-known bachelor's, came to dinner: Richard Harding Davis, a swashbuckling reporter and author of best-selling adventure novels, and Charles Dana Gibson, who often illustrated Davis' work. Gibson was gaining a reputation in his own right through his drawings for Scribner's and The Century.

Gibson had acquired plenty of self-confidence along with national recognition. Undeterred by the 66 marriage proposals Irene Langhorne was known to have already received, he went to Mirador and laid seige. After ingratiating himself with Chiswell Langhorne (who admitted that the damn yankee knew how to ride good horses and take care of the tack), Gibson issued an ultimatum. He was shortly off to Europe; he wanted Irene Langhorne to accompany him as his wife.

The Gibsons were married Nov. 7, 1895 in St. Paul's Church in Richmond. A private railroad car brought the New York guests. The new Jefferson hotel opened two days earlier than originally planned. The canopy outside the church was ripped to shreds by a crowd that pushed and shoved to get a glimpse of the bride and groom, and of Richard Harding Davis, who was an usher.

According to the Richmond Tribune, the bride's gown was of ivory satin with a high corsage of chiffon and satin sleeves. The shoulders and sleeves were festooned in Renaissance lace with orange blossoms at her left shoulder. The tulle veil was fastened by a crescent of diamonds, and her bouquet contained lillies of the valley and violets. The bridesmaids wore yellow taffeta gowns and black Gainsborough hats, and carried bouquets of yellow chrysanthemums.

A European described Irene Langhorne Gibson, as drawn by her husband, as a "tall and lovely woman with a magnificent head placed on a throat that was the envy of Aphrodite; the possessor of an exquisite mouth and an Italian Renaissance nose and eyes half hidden by mysterious lids, yet thoughtful and bright with a flash that told of a lurking temper."

With his wife as "premiere" model, Gibson's position in American art was assured. He set his enchantress in every walk of life; as a proud society beauty, then as a sweet, softly delineated housewife who nonetheless would venture from home for the tennis court or the bicycle path. He placed her behind the steering wheel of a car and in a (then) rather daring bathing suit at the seashore. The ideal American woman became no longer simply a housewife. Through his drawings Gibson gave American women his blessing to play almost any sport - if they did so gracefully. He approved of their entering any profession if they kept their dignity. As something of an after-thought he conceded them the vote as long as they were so adamant about getting it. (Irene Gibson as a Democratic National Committeewoman would work diligently for the election of Al Smith in 1928). But along with a campaign badge on the woman's blouse, Gibson would depict Cupid on a horse leading her to the polls.

The Gibson Girl became so popular in the early 1900s that everyone was talking and singing about her. Gibson Girl shoes, dresses and hats swept the nation. If she disappeared for over a week from magazines and newspapers, a universal cry would go up, and shortly she would reappear.

"Gibson has drawn the true American girl," the New York World editorialized during Irene Gibson's heyday. "Before Gibson synthetized his ideal woman, the American girl was vague, nondescript, inchoate; there was no type to her to which one could point and say, 'That is the typical American girl.' As soon as the world saw Gibson's ideal, it bowed down in adoration, saying, 'Lo, at last the typical American girl.' Not only did the susceptible American men acknowledge her their queen, but the girls themselves held her as their portrait and strove to live up to the likeness. Thus did nature follow in the footsteps of art, and thus did the Gibson Girl become legion, and the world take her to its heart as the type of American womanhood."

The Gibson Girl remained enthroned until World War I, which brought an end to the Indian summer of American serenity. The Gibson marriage, however, was long and serenely happy. Gibson headed the government's pictorial publicity division during the war and in the early 20s was editor of the old, or ptr-Time-Life, Life Magazine. He died in New York in 1944, and she in 1954 in her beloved Virginia, in a cottage on her son Langhorne's property near Mirador, which had been sold in 1950.

For those who admire perspective, cleaniliness of line and delicacy of shading, the Gibson Girl drawings remain a delight. For students of style, they may cyclically prefigure aspects of future modes.

But for social historians, they are worth some thousands of words. The accomplishment of Charles Dana and Irene Langhorne Gibson - which would have astounded him, at least - was to take America on the first step toward woman's liberation.

This article was first reproduced with permission of Viginia Country, Quarterly, Spring 1980, in the 1981 CFA Journal

The drawing of the Gibson Girl, entitled "The Debutante", by Charles Dana Gibson, and the picture of Mirador, from Charlottesville Area Real Estate web site

Irene Langhorne was the great great great granddaughter of James Callaway (1735-1809) of Bedford Co., Virginia. Her family line of descent is as follows:
Joseph Callaway
William Callaway
James Callaway
Frances Callaway married James Steptoe
Frances Steptoe married Henry Scaisbrook Langhorne
John S. Langhorne
Chiswell Langhorne
Irene Langhorne (1873 - 1954)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association

No, the Indians Didn't Get Andrew Jackson Callaway

Thelma M. Danilson, of Portland, OR wanted the Callaway Family Association to know that "the Indians didn't get Andrew!" It was reported by Arkansas relatives that Andrew Jackson Callaway, born 1850, went to Oregon and that "the Indians got him." He did join a wagon train which left Arkansas in 1877 and arrived at Prairie City, OR six months later. Even though Indian uprisings had subsided by that time, there were some attacks by renagade Indians that could be quite frightening - especially when the men were away.

In 1876, Andrew had married Susan Alston before leaving for Oregon. But she and their baby died at childbirth. Was she on the wagon train with him? If so, where is she buried? Does anyone know these answers?

Also on the wagon train was Sarah Ann Steele, born 1857. She was the oldest child in the Steele family who were also making that trip. Sarah had been born in Ozark and had lived in various places in Arkansas. She did not know Andrew before the wagon trip. They were married in Prairie City in May, 1878, shortly after her father, Thomas Steele, a Civil War veteran, had died. When her mother, Mary Jane Blaylock Steele, died a short time later, Andrew and Sarah provided a home for three of Sarah's sisters and one brother. The couple had four children of their own.

Andrew, who had been educated at Fayetteville Seminary in Arkansas, taught school in Prairie where he and Sarah homesteaded. He soon began to teach in other schools which were too far from his home to travel on horseback. This meant he had to be away from home for periods of time and he boarded with families in the various communities. So Sarah had to assume the responsibilities for the home, children and cattle. Bertha, the oldest and the only girl, remembered how she had to ride horseback looking after the cattle and always carried a stick to kill rattlesnakes. Often a year would pass before they would see another white woman. The nearest Post Office was 10 miles away and the nearest doctor and supply center was 80 miles away in Ontario, OR.

Often the Indians camped near the farm and, on one occasion, one of them sat in the yard for a long time sharpening his knife. Sarah was alone with the children and must have felt they would all be scalped. It is said that one of the women - perhaps Sarah - chased an Indian away with a frying pan of hot coals. In any event, the Indians didn't get them.

Andrew was as active politically as he was educationally. In 1896 he was the Democratic nominee for superintendent of schools in Juntura, OR. He finally moved to Ontario, OR in order that the children could have better educational opportunities. His oldest son, Thomas Hosea Callaway, graduated from the sixth grade - the highest grade taught at that time - in 1900 but, sadly, Andrew did not live long enough to see that happen. He died in 1898, age 48, from complications related to a spleen problem he had had for several years. The Ontario papers said of him at that time: "... a good citizen, an honest, upright man, a loving father and husband...Honest to the heart's core, true to his friends and moral convictions, fearless in his advocacy of the right, hating shams and moral cowardice, open as the day, yet, modest, unassuming and reticent with strangers. His virtues were the kind that shone brightest in the home, and in the narrower circle of intimate personal friends."

Those direct descendants of Andrew at the 1981 Callaway Family Association Meeting were proof that the "Indians didn't get Andrew," and that beloved "cousins" abound throughout the United States.

The preceding article was submitted to CFA in 1981 by Thelma M. Danilson, Portland, OR, granddaughter of Andrew Jackson Callaway, and originally appeared in the 1982 CFA Journal

Pictured in photo, front row left to right: Andrew Jackson, William Andrew and Sarah Ann Steele. Back row: Edward Cleveland, Bertha and Thomas Hosea.
The family line of descent is as follows:
Peter Callaway
John Callaway
John Callaway, Jr.
John Callaway
Thomas Callaway
John D. Callaway
Jonathan Hosea Callaway
Andrew Jackson Callaway

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association

Dr. James Calloway, Physician of Wilkesboro, NC

Wilkesboro Witness, Wilkesboro, North CarolinaThursday Morning, February 6th, 1879

DIED CALLOWAY - On the 25th of December A D 1878, at his residence in Wilkesboro, in the seventy-second year of his age, Dr. James Calloway (Elijah, Thomas, Jr., Thomas, Joseph Callaway).

Dr. Calloway's life and character were too well known and valued for his friends to be satisfied with a simple announcement of his death. He was born in Ashe County, North Carolina, in the year 1806. Little is known by the writer of his ancestry or family connections, only that he was a grand-nephew of Daniel Boone, of Kentucky notoriety of which connection he often spoke with peculiar pleasure. (Editor's Note - There was no direct relationship between Dr. James Calloway and Daniel Boone. He was first cousin, twice removed of Flanders Callaway who married Jemima Boone, Daniel Boone's daughter.)

Later in life he was a representative of Ashe County in the Legislature of North Carolina. Almost contemporary with this event he became a practicing physician and soon after removed to Wilkesboro, where he at once obtained a large and extensive practice, which he retained and is well known in this and adjacent counties as a physician. At that time, the writer has been informed,there was no other regularly bred physician in the whole extent of country between Statesville, North Carolina and Wytheville, Virginia; hence his practice embraced in its range a territory which now constitutes seven counties in North Carolina. His practice was consequently a very laborious one. He was sometimes called even to Virginia.

He was married twice. His first wife, Mary L. Carmichael, was a daughter of Capt. Abner Carmichael and sister of L. B. Carmichael, a name familiar to the bar of this judicial circuit, and to his contemporaries in the Legislature of North Carolina, of which he was repeatedly a member. From this marriage were born three children, only two of whom survive - Mrs. Daniel W. Adams (Mary Virginia Calloway), and Mrs. John R. Bowie (Frances Caroline Calloway).

His last wife, who is now living was Miss Annie Perry Yeakle, a native of Maryland but residing at the time of their marriage, with an Aunt in Wilkes County. From this marriage were born six children, four of whom are living.

In former years Dr. Calloway was an earnest member of the Whig Party, and though rarely an aspirant to office he extended very extraordinary influence in its behalf. It is thought that no other man in the County influenced and controlled so many votes as he did.

He was most violently opposed to secession but in 1861 he was elected to the convention, voted for the Ordinance of Secession, strenuously supported it during the war and, so far as the writer can learn was never heard to utter a regret for the vote which he then gave. Since the war, for reasons which he deemed satisfactory, he has taken very little part in politics, only giving a silent vote in behalf of the conservative principles and men. There were many of us whose affairs were embarrassing and complicated and owing to the legislative enactments during and since the war, they have continued complicated.

Owing to these enactments the war left him very much embarrassed though owning a large property in North Carolina and in the Western States. As his greatest interests lay west of the Mississippi river he deemed it necessary to remove to Kansas in 1870. His health, however, failing he remained in that state only two years and returned to Wilkesboro where he resided till his death.

The common judgement of those who knew Dr. Calloway well is that he was a man of extraordinary natural strength of mind sharpened and improved by extensive professional and business associations and of an inflexible purpose in the prosecution of his aims. He had collected a vast amount of traditionary matter connected with the war of the revolution and hence was generally interesting in such subjects, and especially useful to those entitled to pensions as soldiers, or their descendants. He was for thirty years of his life a member of the Episcopal Church, whose ministrations in his sick room during his long and painful illness gave him his greatest comfort.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association

1814 Map of Fort Johnson by Captain James Callaway

In the Mississippi Region, the War of 1812 was waged by Indians. Forts, both military and family, were the basic means of protection on the exposed Missouri frontier. In 1814 Zachary Taylor sent Captains Callaway and Whiteside with a group of militia to erect Fort Johnson on the east side of the Mississippi River after the militia had retreated from the battle of Credit Island. The map of the fort constructed was preserved with the letters and papers of Captain James Callaway (Flanders, James, Joseph Callaway).

James Callaway was a logical choice for such an assignment based upon his background and experience. He was the second son of Flanders Callaway and Jemima Boone Callaway, born in Fayette County, Ky., September 13, 1783, and familiar with Ft. Boonesborough from childhood. After migrating to the St. Charles District in late 1799, he engaged in the fur trade and revisited Kentucky. He frequently was involved in public activities and by 1808 was appointed cornet of a troop of militia cavalry and served as paymaster for the Clark expedition. In 1812, he was a captain of the militia and later participated in the expedition of General Howard in 1813 and the battle of Credit Island in 1814. At various times he served on the Missouri frontier with his uncles, Daniel Morgan Boone and Nathan Boone, and no doubt had the consulting experience of both his father and Daniel Boone, to whom "forting" had been a method of survival.

Captain James Callaway was killed by Indians near Loutre Creek in March 1815. The party that went in search of his body included his father, Flanders Callaway; and he, as well as two of his soldiers, were buried where they had been killed in what is now Montgomery County, Missouri.

In 1819, a new county was created from parts of Boone, Howard and Montgomery Counties. Located west of Montgomery and east of Boone on the Missouri River, the new county was named Callaway by the Territorial Legislature of Missouri to honor the memory of Captain James Callaway. It is the only county in the state named for a Missouri Ranger in the War of 1812.

The above article was written by CFA Historian, Bobbie L. Callaway, and originally published in the 1984 CFA Journal. The photo is courtesy of the Missouri Historical Society, St. Louis, MO.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association

Flanders Callaway House, Femme Osage District, St. Charles County, MO

After living for about 12 years in the Femme Osage District of St. Charles County, MO, Flanders Callaway (James, Joseph Callaway) purchased 400 arpens of land in June, 1811, about eight miles west of his original grant. During 1811 and 1812 he built a log house on this property and moved his family there near the village of Charette. In 1813 he sold his original grant to his son, John Boone Callaway. He purchased an additional 802 arpens of land near his new residence in 1815 which made him the owner of approximately 1022.5 acres. His house was in Montgomery County when Flanders died in 1829 and that area became Warren County before Jemima Boone Callaway died in 1834.

The log house which Flanders Callaway built in 1811-12 was unusual for the area and the time period as it was quite large and had two stories. It was well built as it survived several floods of the Missouri River which completely inundated it more than once. In the 1920s a porch had been added and the house had been covered with siding (as pictured in photo). In 1968 the house was completely dismantled and sold, remaining merely stacked logs until 1979 when it was purchased by the current owner and moved to St. Charles County for reassembly.

The house is now located in the Femme Osage area on a grant originally belonging to Jonathan Bryan, a near relative of Rebecca Bryan Boone. It is in the same area where the Daniel-Nathan Boone house stands, not far from Callaway Forks and the original grant of Flanders Callaway. It is being reconstructed by hand methods as authentically as possible to appear as it was when built in 1811-12. When restoration is completed, the owner plans to furnish it as it might have been in the early nineteenth century.

Robert E. Thomasson, M.D., a St. Louis surgeon, is the owner and active participant in the reassembly of the Callaway house. His primary nonmedical interest is early Missouri history including the history of the buildings, equipment and other items in his growing collection. For the 1984 CFA Annual Meeting in St. Louis, he was the host on the premises for the group tour and the guest speaker at the family dinner on Friday night.

The above article was written by CFA Historian, Bobbie L. Callaway, and originally published in the 1984 CFA Journal. The photo is courtesy of Missouri Historical Society, St. Louis, MO.

For updated information and photos visit www.danielboonefamily.org

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association

Boxwood Manor in Callaway, Virginia

The land for the Manor was a dowry of 6000 acres and 30 slaves given to Susan E. Callaway by her father Henry Tate Callaway (it now includes only 600 acres). The Manor was built and completed about 1845. It was a 6 room home with 5 fireplaces. The ceilings downstairs are 10 feet and the upstairs are 9 feet high. All rooms have transoms to the center hall to allow air to circulate when the doors are closed. The lower level was a dining room, pantry and ‘root’ cellar (dirt floor). The first level had a parlor, a center hall, and a combination living, bedroom. Upstairs has a center hall and 2 bedrooms. The kitchen was located outside the Manor and the food brought to the main house basement dining room by slaves. There was a unique fan over the dining room table that was connected to a foot pedal and operated by a slave to keep the air moving. The fireplace had metal arms to keep kettles warm.

There was a semi-detached building of 3 bedrooms, a dining room and a kitchen that was never completed and no one in the family could give a satisfactory answer as to how and why it was there. The floor levels did not match the front house, the walls were not completed upstairs and was torn down by Flanders Callaway, Sr. in 1945. He then built an attached building with a bedroom, a kitchen, pantry, and a bath. This changed again in 1985 to be kitchen, 2 full baths, a foyer and a large bedroom.

Family legend as told by Russell Callaway, present owner of Boxwood Manor:

When Gen. Jubal Early was looking for some soldiers that had not surrendered, he was being pursued by the Yankees. He stopped here at Boxwood Manor to change horses and my GG grandmother gave him her favorite horse “Sweet Nancy” The General's worn out horse was supposed to have been led down a set of circular stairs into the basement to hide it from the following soldiers. Hard to believe when you realize how steep the stairs were. The stairs have been removed during modifications to the house. Following is the story.

SWEET NANCY
by
C. R. Perry

Lizzie was almost out of breath when she reached Thomas Callaway's office door. "Dey's men a comin' dis way, Massa Thomas," she said as she peered through the open doorway. Then she added, "Looks as though dey might'n be in a hurry."
Thomas turned and looked out the window just in time to see the riders turn their horses into the roadway to Boxwood Manor. "I believe they're stopping here, Lizzie," he said as he rose. "You go on back to your work and I'll greet our guests," he added as he grabbed his rifle from the corner and headed out the door.
Lizzie replied with a "Yes'er" and headed back toward the manor house as Thomas cautiously headed toward the hitching post, but before he took ten steps he could plainly see that one of the approaching riders was none other than General Jubal Early. He relaxed as he eyed the other three riders. He recognized one as the General's nephew, but he did not know the other two.
Thomas called over his shoulder, "Lizzie, tell Mrs. Susan we're having guests for dinner."
"Yes sir, Massa Thomas, I'll tell 'er," she replied as she scurried into the house.
"Good evening to you, Lieutenant Callaway," Jubal Early said as he reined in his horse.
"And a good evening to you, General, and welcome to Boxwood Manor," Thomas replied as he reached for the reins of his horse. Then he added, "You wanting to kill this animal? It looks pretty poor."
"No," came a sharp reply. "You fixin' to shoot him?"
"No, sir," Thomas said as he looked down at the rifle he was clutching in his right hand. "Can't be too careful these days though, General. No telling who might be riding up. Could be some fellows up to no good, you know."
"I've heard there are some bad ones running around these mountains." General Early replied. Then he added, "I reckon they are cowardly deserters from what was General Lee's army."
"Could be, I don't rightly know, General," Thomas said as he tied Early's horse. He continued, "When I was off fighting in the 42nd with General Lee, some boys deserted after we left Petersburg but I don't know where they ended-up."
"They ended-up no good, that's where! They all need to be hunted down and shot!," was the General's terse reply.
General Early and the other riders were dismounting as Susan Callaway came out the door of the house. General Early's rheumatism was very evident as he slowly and purposefully got down from his horse. He moved around his horse, looked to his three companions and motioned toward one of the big ash trees in the yard. "You three rest yourselves under that shade tree while I take care of my business with Lieutenant Callaway."
As he and Thomas walked toward Susan he added: "If you see any of them damn Yankees that are after us -- shoot the bastards!"
"You got Yankees chasing you?" Susan asked as she motioned to the gentlemen to enter the door she had just exited. She kept talking, "You all just go on in there and I'll make sure enough dinner is being cooked for you and your men."
She did not wait for a reply; but, instead, turned toward the kitchen as Thomas and the General entered the house. Susan walked to the kitchen in back of the manor house as Thomas led General Early toward the parlor. As they entered the room Thomas repeated Susan's question: "You got Yankees chasing you?"
"I suppose. Last night I stayed at your brother Watt's house, and this morning I had to hide in his garret when some Yankee soldiers showed up looking for me. Watt's servant, Surry, sent them off looking for me down the Carolina Road," General Early replied as he took an offered cigar.
He bit off the end and spit it into the fireplace and took a flaming match from Thomas. He lit his cigar, shook out the flame and tossed the match into the fireplace. He sat in a nearby chair that Thomas had gestured toward, and then he continued: "As soon as they were gone I got on that damned old horse out there and headed this way. I'm hoping those Yankee's won't pick up my trail again until I'm long gone from here."
"Why you running from them anyway, General? The war is over! We've been surrendered! We all have amnesty! Thomas said.
Early rose abruptly in spite of his rheumatism and, with one finger raised in the air, as if talking to a larger audience, stated: "I surrendered to no one! I was not a part of any army that surrendered! General Lee surrendered after he had relieved me of my command. So now I'm on my way to join up with the only Confederate Army still fighting for our cause."
"And what Army is that, General?" Susan Callaway asked as she entered the parlor.
"Why that'd be General E. Kirby-Smith's Trans-Mississippian, Mrs. Callaway," General Early replied. "He's fighting down in Louisiana right now and, I think he is looking to move back across the Mississippi as soon as his army is large enough to offer a formidable force against the Yankees on this side."
"Do you think he can succeed, General? The last I heard every Confederate army this side of the Mississippi had been surrendered. How long do you think he can hold out?" Thomas asked.
"I don't rightly know, Lieutenant, but I do know that I'll fight for our cause as long as I can," was the General's reply. Then, as he patted the pistol holstered under his frock, he added, "I don't intend to surrender to anyone."
"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Susan said as she eyed the pistol. Then she added, "One man, with one gun against a whole army won't amount to much."
"When you put it like that you might be right, Mrs. Callaway; but, it was one man, with one gun, that turned many a battle from certain defeat to realized victory," the General replied. "I'm no fool, Madam. I'll not stand alone against an army but I will fight with one until my last breath, if need be."
"I understand, but don't be like those misguided souls up in Floyd," Susan said "Oh, what happened up there?" The General ask.
"Three fellows attacked several hundred Yankee soldiers at the courthouse up there. They wounded a few of them and then retreated," Thomas said.
"Where did they go?" the General asked as he flicked the ash from his cigar into the fireplace. "Maybe I could recruit those brave men to ride with me down to Louisiana."
"Too late, General," Thomas said. "I heard they were shot dead in a grave yard."
"Well, that's a hell of a place to get killed. Did they take any of those damned Yankees with them?" Early inquired.
"Don't think so, General. Did hear, though, that the Yankees had them buried there where they fell," Thomas answered.
"Those bastards," Early said as he shook his head in disgust. "They probably didn't even give them a proper burial."
With that Susan excused herself to ready the dining room for dinner. General Early returned to his seat and he and Thomas set silently smoking their cigars. After a few minutes General Early spoke.
"Lieutenant, I stopped by here because your brother, Watt, said you might have a good horse I could purchase. As anyone can plainly see, my old horse is about worn out. I dare say, I doubt the old nag'll make it to Carolina, much less to Louisiana."
"Well, General, I have several horses any one of which you're welcome to have. They have all been worked or ridden hard this Spring and if any of them are pushed hard they might not make it to Louisiana either."
"I thank you Lieutenant. Can we go look them over now?"
Just then Lizzie came to the door announcing that dinner was ready. Thomas thanked her and said to the General, "Let's have dinner first." Then he motioned for the General to follow him. He led him to the back porch wash basin. After washing up they went down the outside spiral staircase to the basement dining room.
As they entered the room Susan motioned for the General to sit at the head of the table. As she did so she said, "You sit there, General, you are our special guest. We don't have a special guest too often these days."
"Well, I imagine that is so," the General said as he moved around the table past Thomas and Susan's standing children, "but it looks like you have some special people here already."
"Oh, forgive my manners, General," Susan said. "These are our children, Lavinia, James, George and John Peter."
The General patted John Peter's shoulder as he sat at the head of the table. Then he said: "They are fine looking children and this is a fine looking meal you've prepared, my dear lady. Fresh greens are my favorite -- and I'm really surprised to be able to partake of ham this time of year."
"Well, it may be a little strong, General, but I think it'll be just fine. A fellow down the road brought it to us this morning to pay his grinding bill," Thomas said as he motioned to the children to sit.
"I sent some greens and cornbread out to your men, General. Since I didn't have enough ham for everyone I had some extra fatback put in theirs," Susan said. "Also sent them some of this fresh buttermilk," she added as she handed a glass of it to the General.
"Thank you, Ma'am. This is mighty fine, mighty fine," the General said after taking a big drink from the glass. "And thank you for taking care of my men; I'd most forgot about them." "You are very welcome," Susan said as she proceeded to move around the table to her seat. When she was seated she looked to her husband and said, "Thomas," and then she bowed her head.
Everyone, including Lizzie, who was standing nearby, took the cue and bowed their head. Thomas ask the Lord to bless the food, his family and home as he usually did but then he asked a special blessing for General Early and his men.
After his "Amen," amens could be heard around the table. Then, as everyone began serving themselves and passing the food around the table, General Early thanked Thomas for remembering him and his men in pray. Then he added, "What I need more than pray, though, is a good horse if I'm going to stay ahead of those Yankees all the way to Louisiana."
"Well, as soon as we are finished eating we will go down to the stables and pick one out for you," said Thomas.
"You'll do no such thing," Susan said. "If General Early needs a horse then I'll give him Sweet Nancy."
"But Mother," James Henry said, "That horse was a present to you from . . . "
Susan cut him short with, "That's right, son, and that makes Sweet Nancy my horse and I just gave her to General Early."
"But Mother," John Peter said, "Sweet Nancy is the only horse I can ride." "Then you'll just have to learn to ride another, won't you, Dear," Susan replied.
Lavinia started to enter the conversation but her Father raised his hand to quiet her. Then he said, "Your Mother has decided. General Early will ride Sweet Nancy to Louisiana." Thomas looked at George and said, "As soon as you are through eating I want you to go the stable and bring Sweet Nancy to the hitching post so we can put the General's tack on her." Then he spoke to James, "I want you to get my spy glass and go to the upper front porch and keep a look out up the road. If you see any riders coming let me know quickly."
James eagerly responded with, "I'll go now! I done eat all I want," and he jumped up and left the room.
"Can I go with him?" John Peter ask.
"No, I want you to go to the grainery and fetch a sack of feed up here for the horses," came Thomas' reply. Then Thomas turned to Lizzie and said "Lizzie, can you please put some traveling food in a sack for the General and his men. Maybe some biscuits and fatback if you got any."
"I'll get'em something, Massa Thomas," Lizzie said as she left the dining room.
Thomas then said to Lavinia, "Would you water the horses as soon as you finish eating."
General Early looked over at Susan and said, "And that, dear lady, is why your husband was an officer in our army. He always knew what needed to be done and who to tell to do it. They should have made him a major -- may be even a colonel."
The General started to say something else but James came running into the room. "They are coming, Father, they are coming," he said as he tried to catch his breath.
"How many are there?" Thomas ask as he stood up.
"Don't know, I couldn't really see them. Just a cloud of dust over the road beyond the church," was James' answer.
General Early got up, Thomas motioned to the other children to do what they were told and they, the children, scurried up the spiral staircase. He then told James to go back to the upper porch and let him know when he could tell how many men were coming. He then turned to the General and said, "We got no more than 15 minutes before they are in the yard. That won't give you much of a head start but we will keep them here as long as we can."
"I'm sure, Lieutenant," came the General's reply. "But I don't want you doing anything that will bring harm to you or your family."
"I don't plan to do anything drastic, General," Thomas said as he motioned for the General to head up the steps.
When the General, Thomas and Susan got up the stairs and into the yard they headed straight for the hitching post where General Early's nephew was already unsaddling the General's old horse. He look over the horse and said, "The boy up on the porch told me that four riders were a coming. I sure hope you got another horse a coming to put under this saddle 'cause we got to go now."
"There's one coming up from the stable now," Thomas said as he pointed to George riding Sweet Nancy up the hill from the stables.
As George reined her in Susan walked to her side to say her good byes. George dismounted and Thomas took the saddle and put it on Sweet Nancy and instructed George to cinch it.
Thomas then turned his attention to John Peter who was struggling up the hill with a sack of feed. "Hurry up, son. The General and his men have to be riding," he said. Then, speaking to General Early, he continued, "When you and your men leave go northwest along Blackwater and right on up Bent Mountain. When you get to the top turn southwest and keep going. I would avoid Floyd since some of those Yankees might still be there."
"We will heed your advice," the General said as he mounted Sweet Nancy. He continued, "And I want to thank you, Mrs. Callaway, for this fine looking animal."
"Oh, you are very welcome, General," Susan replied as she backed away from Sweet Nancy. Then she added, "You take care of this horse -- and yourself, too!"
General Early tipped his hat and then instructed his men to mount their horses and take the offered feed and food from John Peter and Lizzie. One of the men took the food and another took the feed and they all mounted and turned their horses toward the Blackwater River. General Early raised his right hand, motioned forward with it as if he was directing a charge, and they rode off. Thomas and his family watched as they headed down the path and out of sight. After a brief moment Susan said, "Well, let's finish eating and when those Yanks get here we'll be able to act as if nothing unusual has happened."
"Good idea," Thomas said as he motioned for the children to head back down the spiral staircase. As he approached the stairs he instructed Lizzie to gather the dishes the General's men had left in the yard and return them to the kitchen.
No sooner had the family sat back down at the table than James came running in saying the Yankees were just below the house, no more than three or four minutes away. Lavinia said, "The General's horse is. .." but before she could finish Thomas was already sprinting back up the stairs. When he got to the top he glanced around and then darted to the hitching post, grabbed the reins and looked for the closest place to hide the horse. After looking at his office and dismissing it as being too close, he looked at the horse and said, "I hope you can negotiate a spiral staircase," and he headed toward it.
When he got to the top of the stairs he met George coming up. "You gonna put that horse in our dining room?" he ask his Father.
"Last place they'd look for him if they suspect he's here," Thomas said. You get behind him and make sure he comes with me," he added as he started down the steps.
Well, it was a sight to see according to Callaway family folklore. Thomas and George did succeed in getting General Early's old horse down that spiral staircase and into the basement dining room. The horse remained in the dining room for sometime while the Callaway family entertained the General's Yankee pursuers upstairs. This gave Early and his men an ample head start.
General Early did make it south to Louisiana but before he got there General E. Kirby-Smith surrendered his Trans-Mississippian Army. General Early, still refusing to surrender, left the country.
Boxwood Manor still stands at the foot of the Blue Ridge in Franklin County, Virginia. It is presently occupied by John Peter's grandson, Russell Callaway, and his wife Heide. Thomas' office still stands but the spiral staircase is gone.
The fate of Sweet Nancy is unknown.
The End

The information about Boxwood Manor and the story of "Sweet Nancy" were submitted to CFA by Russell Callaway, who also provided the photo of the Manor which was taken October 2004.

Thomas and Susan Callaway were first cousins. Their respective lines of descent are as follows:
Joseph Callaway
William Callaway
James Callaway
James Callaway
Thomas Callaway Callaway

Joseph Callaway
William Callaway
James Callaway
Henry Tate Callaway
Susan Emeline Callaway

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Copyright © 2004 Callaway Family Association