Today’s post is about a letter. In some ways, it’s unique (it IS one of a kind, after all), and in some ways, it adds to the canon of Civil War correspondencewritten home. But this letter has a little something extra. It’sa letter from Isaac Cox to his wife, written June 29, 1862. At the time, Cox was a private with the (Confederate) 29th Regiment, Virginia Infantry. It was a regiment recruited largely from Southwest Virginia. Throughout their 3+ years, soldiers in this regiment fought mostly in Virginia, but also experienced fighting in Kentucky, Tennessee, and West Virginia. Cox’s letter home is brief. It talks of the regiment’s march to Princeton, West Virginia, and back, and also includes news of someone named Bill. Not all that different from many other letters written home during the war. But, that isn’t quite what caught our attention. Certainly, the local connection is important (Cox lived in Saltville, Virginia, before and after the war). When you take a look at the letter, however, there’s somethingsurprising.Cox decorated his letter, carefully cutting a design in the page…
Letter from Isaac Cox to his wife, June 29, 1862, Taswill [Tazewell] CountySometimes, it’s amazing that a 152 year old letter lasts this long at all. Some of the design here has been lost–you can see the tears at the tiny “finger” details and more than one spoke/petal is missing or loose. We’ve housed this item in a mylar sleeve to help prevent further damage.
If you’re curious about the letter, here’s a transcript:
Taswill [Tazewell] County June 29 1862 Dier Affectionated Wife I take the plesent [matter] of senden you a few lines to let you now that I am well at this time hopeing when this few lines come to hand they will find you in helth I received you kind best last eavining and I was truly glad to here that you was all well we had the hardest march to prinzton [Princeton] and back that I ever had we was orded to cook 4 days rashuns the other day and then we started and was gon to [two] days and a half from our camps we was march in 4 miles of prinzton and then we stade in the woods for two days and 3 nites and then return to our camps it made my feet very soar you wanted to no what had be come of bill he is still at Jeffer? [Jefferson?] Mills in the horsepital yet & hant herd from him in a bout 2 weeks and then he was getin well as he cald I am a goin to try to come home a bout harvest if I can but I dont now whither I can or not So no more at this time only Still rember your husband un till deth
Carroll Co to Charlott Cox
Isaac and Charlotte had five children, two of whom were born during the war, so he clearly managed a visit at some point! Charlotte died in 1911; Isaac in 1925.
If you’d like more information on the letter or on Isaac Cox, you can view the full finding aid here. Or, you can pay us a visit to see this amazing letter in person!
Blacksburg, Virginia, 1908-1914 offers a rare glimpse of what it was like to live in Solitude. The narrative is Chapter II in a larger work, We Remember, that Stevenson Whitcomb and Margaret Rolston Fletcher wrote for their children and their childrens children. Dr. Robert H. Fletcher, Professor Emeritus at Harvard Medical School (son of Steve, Jr.); his cousin Marcia Fletcher Clark (daughter of Richard); and her daughter, Lisa Snook Young have graciously permitted us to share these images and text from the narrative. The family retains copyright. Plans are underway in the University Archives to construct an Internet exhibition with more images of Solitude and the Fletcher family and a link to the full text of the Fletchers Blacksburg chapter.
In 1908, Professor Fletcher moved to Blacksburg with his wife Margaret and their two young sons, Robert and Richard. He came to Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College and Polytechnic Institute, as Virginia Tech was then named, as Professor of Experimental Agriculture and Director of the Virginia Agricultural Experiment Station. After a week at the frigid Blacksburg Inn and nine months in three long narrow rooms in the Library that were usually reserved for the accommodation of the trustees, we were released on probation, and the family moved into Solitude. Two more children, Steve and Peter, were born at Solitude.
Solitude Living Room, 1913
Virginia Techs oldest structure, Solitude is the homeplace of the university. From humble origins as a log cabin built in 1801, Solitude grew into the colonial home of two Virginia governors and the home of Robert Preston who sold the property in 1872 to provide land for the new Virginia land grant college, Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College.
Winter Sports at Solitude, November 1913
The narrative describes the setting of the lovely home:
The yard was shaded by a number of locust trees, beneath which bluegrass grew luxuriantly, and by red maples and a giant pine, remnants of the virgin forest. The gravel walk to the house was bordered by a box hedge. There was a clump of cinnamon fern by the doorstep, and in the spring Poets Narcissus nodded gracefully in the breeze. Across the road was a pond on which the boys skated in winter. Back of the house was a bluegrass meadow through which meandered a little branch. Beyond this was a wooded hill on top of which stood the Presidents mansion.”
According to the account, the family lived well on Professor Fletchers salary: Steves salary was $3,000 and house; this was equal in purchasing power to at least $9,000 today [note: We Remember was written in 1951).
Miss Rosa Parrott’s Kindergarten
Margaret Fletcher started a kindergarten taught by Miss Rosa Parrott. Robert, Richard, and Steve enrolled. The playroom in our house was her schoolroom and our yard was their playground. Miss Rosa Parrott later married Dr. E. B. Fred, president of the University of Wisconsin.
After Santa Came, 1913
The narrative recalls how Christmas was observed at Solitude:
In one corner of the living room, by the fireplace, stood a glittering Christmas tree trimmed with strings of white popcorn, red cranberries, shining tinsel, and net bags of red and white candy. Beneath it were piled unopened presents that had come by mail. Three pairs of stockings hung from the mantel stuffed with candy, dates, figs, nuts, and small toys, with a red and white candy cane and horn sticking out of the top of each stocking. Beneath the stockings were piled sleds, skates, drums, and other things dear to the hearts of boys. It was obvious that some mysterious and open-handed stranger had visited the house during the night; Robert looked for the track of his sleigh on the roof, but the new-fallen snow had covered it.”
To learn more about Solitude and the Preston family, or to read Professor Fletcher’s 1913 book, Three Problems in Virginia Fruit Growing: Packing, Marketing, Nursery and Orchard Inspection, visit Special Collections on the first floor of Newman Library or visit the Solitude site at http://spec.lib.vt.edu/archives/solitude/index.html The history of Solitude was discussed in an earlier blog https://scuablog.lib.vt.edu/2013/11/07/solitude-history/
To visit Solitude, please contact the Appalachian Studies Program director, Dr. Anita Puckett, at apuckett@vt.edu.
As with any college town, August brings to Blacksburg a sudden shift from near-dormancy to feverish activity. Streets clog. Parking spaces disappear. And piles of modern lifes necessitiesfrom box fans to microwave ovens, from flat-screen TVs to mini-fridgesalign sidewalks as families and volunteers move new students into their appointed dorm rooms.
In the early years of Virginia Techthen known as Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical Collegestudent move-ins were much different. In 1872, the schools inaugural year, the new, non-local student arrived by train unaccompanied, alighting at the station near Christiansburg. The additional eight-mile journey by hired carriage to Blacksburg could take as long as three hours on roads that were sometimes nearly impassable. It wouldnt be until 1904 that a spur linethe Huckleberry Railroadwould allow for a much easier (though, at a scheduled 40 minutes, still-lethargic) trip from Christiansburg.
Upon arriving, the more sophisticated freshmen were probably unimpressed by their new surroundings. Blacksburg was barely a spot on the map at the time and couldnt provide much comfort and entertainment to young men far from home. The campus itself consisted of but five acres and a single building. Though it rose above the surrounding countryside, the three-story edifice was less than grand. Samuel Withers, who entered the school in early 1873, uncharitably wrote, The architect who planned it must have been a genius, for it was a classic in its ugliness.
Former home of The Preston & Olin Institute, the lone VAMC campus building included classrooms, offices, a chapel, and student lodging.
The building contained only 24 lodging rooms, which made for cramped quarters. Even after packing three cadets to a room, fewer than half of the first years 172 students could be accommodated.
This photo of triple-deckered bunks was taken around 1902, another of the schools frequent growing-pain periods. Note how the bunks are tied together with rope.
As sometimes still happens today, with enrollment exceeding available rooms, students had to find alternative, off-campus lodging. Many acquired room and board in private homes. Others took up residence in structures hastily built by local entrepreneurs who saw in student rentals a potential windfall. One such building, at the corner of Church and Roanoke streets, was officially named Lybrook Row. The building apparently gained a somewhat notorious reputation, however, and was more familiarly known to cadets as Buzzards Roost and Hell Row. Still, these first-year cadets of what was then an all-male military school could take some comfort in living off-campus, where they were less subject to the control of upperclassmen.
Though Lybrook Row had fallen into disrepair by the time this photo was taken, one can see that it was a very basic affair and likely deserved the appellation Hell Row.
As there were initially no dining facilities on campus, students took meals with local families or at the nearby Lusters Hotel. Others formed their own private messes to provide for themselves. By mid-1873, however, the college had erected a mess hall; after the addition of more lodging in 1881, the school required all students to live and eat on campus.
The fare in the early mess halls could best be described as basic, and though the college claimed to make every effort to provide good materials, and to have them properly cooked and neatly served, the mess didnt have the reputation of todays Virginia Tech Dining Services for culinary excellence. In the 1881/82 catalog, administrators noted apologetically, [N]ecessarily, the living at seven and a half dollars per month must be plain. After one too many poorly prepared meals, one student expressed the frustration of many when he wrote in the 1900 Gray Jacket: I am so weary of sole-leather steak / Petrified doughnuts and vulcanized cake / Weary of paying for what I dont eat / chewing up rubber and calling it meat.
Mess hall interior, ca. 1900.
1888 saw the opening of Lane Hall (then known as Barracks No. 1), able to house 150 students. While the accommodations were still meager by todays standards, the new building contained such appreciated amenities as steam heating and, on the ground floor, hot and cold running water. Electric lighting was added in 1890. The furnishings, made by students in the college shops, included austere bedsteads, tables, chairs, and bookcases. Students provided their own mattresses, linens, water- and slop-buckets.
The spare furnishings of a barracks room included a straight-backed chair, a washstand, and a bed that appears somewhat less inviting than the floor.Then as now, students personalized their rooms with decorations. With no members of the opposite sex to be seen on campus, many male cadets adorned their walls with the female formor at least as much of the female form as was allowed by Victorian-era strictures.
As with students immemorial, the VAMC cadets participated in many unauthorized activities and pranks. Though regulations forbade it, they drew water from the barracks radiators to fill the washtubs in their rooms for a hot bath on Saturday nights. And with the new availability of its primary ingredient, the water bomb soon became a campus mainstay, to the chagrin of pedestrians near the barracks.
The housing of all students under one roof brought with it unintended results. Hazingor the “application of extra-curricular controls over the behavior of the freshmen, as Douglas Kinnear called it in his 1972 history of Virginia Techbecame ritualized after the construction of Lane Hall and probably caused many a first-year cadet to wish hed never heard of Blacksburg.
In the middle of any given night, a new student was likely to be dumped from his bed, a favorite practical joke inflicted by upperclassmen. This scene, probably staged, was photographed in 1899.
Despite all of the inconveniences and discomforts endured by the new students, they came to love their school devotedly and, as alumni, to remember it fondly and support it proudly. It must have been exciting for that first generation of students to watch the continual improvements made in the campus and to see it grow into the university it had become by the mid-20th century. There can be no doubt, though, that when they visited, they could be heard to comment upon how easy their successors had things.
The University Archives contain a wealth of materials that offer glimpses into the early days of Virginia Tech. The photographs, campus maps, student scrapbooks, and published histories in our collections trace the schools evolution from a one-room school to the dynamic, modern research university that it is today.
Its the beginning of August, which for those of us living in and around Blacksburg, means the blocking off of Main Street and the beginning of Blacksburgs biggest festival- Steppin Out. The annual street festival, which features hundreds of arts and crafts vendors and tens of thousands of attendees, has been a Blacksburg tradition since the late 1970s. It began as an effort to revitalize the downtown and generate revenue for various local charities. But while digging around in Special Collections Vertical Files (where we collect news clippings and articles on various local subjects), I discovered that in the early days, the festival had a much wilder, and unfortunately, darker side.
An article from the Roanoke Times on August 12, 1976, noting the first Deadwood Days festival in downtown Blacksburg
Photos in the Roanoke Times from the second annual Deadwood Days festival in downtown Blacksburg in 1977
Article in the Roanoke Times from July 9, 1980, discussing the Blacksburg Town Council’s ban on the Deadwood Days festival.
The annual festival was first organized in 1976 as Deadwood Days, based off of a successful annual festival of the same name held in Deadwood, South Dakota. The original Deadwood Days festival commemorated the shooting of Wild Bill Hickok, an infamous outlaw of the Old West, on August 2, 1876, in the town of Deadwood, and the Blacksburg version was held for the first time a week after the shootings 100th anniversary.
Thus, for the first four years, the three-day festival had a Wild West theme, and really lived up to that theme in more than just the decor. A 1980 article in the Montgomery News Messenger described it as a rip-snorting, music-and-dancing-in-the-streets gathering enjoyed primarily by the under-40 crowd, adding It has also earned the reputation of a three-day beer bust and drug festival. Festival events during those first four years regularly ran past 1am, with increasing rowdiness and numerous arrests made by the Blacksburg Police for marijuana and cocaine possession.
All of that came to a head in 1979, when the Deadwood Days festival was marred in tragedy. After leaving Deadwood Days on Saturday night, a 17-year-old Blacksburg High School student was shot dead by two teens that hed given a ride from the festival. The teens had reportedly been drinking heavily at the festival, and had no trouble getting all the beer they wanted from downtown bars in the hours immediately proceeding [sic] the murder. In the aftermath, community members blamed the free-wheeling, shoot-em-up atmosphere of Deadwood Days for encouraging the murder, and in July of 1980, just one month before the 5th annual Deadwood Days festival was scheduled to begin, the Blacksburg Town Council voted 5-1 to ban the event.
In the wake of this decision, one council member was quoted in the Blacksburg Sun saying the festival would have to be planned two steps this side of Mary Poppins if it is even to come off in 81 or 82. And in August of 1981, with the strong support of Blacksburgs downtown merchants, a family-friendly arts and crafts festival called Steppin Out was held. The festival changed from a three-day to a two-day festival, with an ending time of 9pm, and included more kid-friendly activities and a much more wholesome atmosphere. Needless to say, Steppin Out was still a hit, and 2014 will mark 33rd year of the this downtown Blacksburg tradition.
2007 Steppin’ Out festival program
1989 Steppin’ Out festival program
Article from August 5, 1988, in the Roanoke Times about the Steppin’ Out festival.
So if some curiosity for Blacksburg history suddenly strikes you while enjoying this weekends festivities in the historic downtown, remember that the Vertical Files in Special Collections has information on many of the buildings, events and people that have made this town what it is today, and were here to help you answer your local history curiosities Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm, every week. But until then, enjoy your weekend, but dont get too wild!
This week, I have Prestons on the brain. Actually, it’s been going on for a while. In May, I gave a presentation about Special Collections’ holdings relating to the Preston family in Virginia and Smithfield/Solitude history. In about two weeks, I’ll be taking a small selection of materials to display at the Preston Family Reunion weekend at the plantation house. Branches of the Preston family held land all over Virginia, South Carolina, and Kentucky in the 18th and 19th centuries. William Preston built Smithfield, the plantation on the edge of what is now Virginia Tech. His grandson, Robert Taylor Preston, built Solitude, located near the Duck Pond on campus. The land the main campus is on was bought from Robert Taylor Preston in 1870-1871.
A single blog post isn’t enough space to talk about everything we have (it’s barely room to talk about one collection!), but it is agood place to talk about an item or two.
RTP pardon, page 1
RTP pardon, page 2
Pardon certification
RTP note of receipt of pardon, 1865
Robert Taylor Preston served as a colonel during the Civil War. Many of his papers in the collection relate to these years (and many are worth a future post!). One of the stand out items, however, is the pardon he received after the war ended. The pardon itself is large and is stored in a large flat file. Along with the pardon, Preston was sent a certificate of the pardon’s authenticity. The last image is of Preston’s letter of receipt, written from Solitude, which reads in part: “[I] hereby signify my acceptance of the same, with all the conditions therein specified.”
We are currently working on digitizing all of Robert Taylor’ Preston’s papers and updating the finding aid. Once done, we’ll have them up on the web to see. We’re excited about being able to share this collection, since it’s one we are asked about often. So be sure to check back with us in the future!
A view of the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair (from Shepp’s World’s Fair Photographed).
During the summer of 1893, the hottest ticket in the United States was a trip to the Worlds Columbian Exposition in Chicago (also known as the Chicago Worlds Fair). Ostensibly created to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Columbuss landing in the New World, the fair provided a showcase for American products and innovations and embodied the maturing nations sense of confidence and optimism. Indeed, during the fairs planning stages, the United States was in the midst of an economic boom driven by manufacture, fossil fuels, railroads, and agriculture. Ironically, by the time the fair opened, on May 1, the Panic of 1893 had initiated a widespread economic crisis that would require several years to overcome. Economic realities did little to diminish the exuberant spirit of fairgoers, however. On opening day, the exposition drew more than 129,000 visitors; by the time it closed, on October 30, more than 27 million people had visited the fairgrounds.
Among the fairs Virginia attendees was Smyth Countys Dr. John S. Apperson, who served as the commonwealths Worlds Fair executive business commissioner. (Appersons wife, Lizzie Black Apperson, would serve as a hostess in the fairs Virginia Building.) Among Appersons other duties as commissioner, he was charged with overseeing the shipment of Virginias exhibit materials to Chicago. Within the Black-Kent-Apperson Family Papers (Ms1974-003) may be found a letter conveying Appersons commission and a photographic portrait of the doctor, made by J. J. Gibson, the expositions official photographer.
Also found in the collection is a bronze medal, issued by the fair. Housed in its original aluminum case, the medal depicts on its obverse a romanticized version of Columbuss landing. On the reverse, a torch-flanked cartouche tells us that the medal was awarded to the Marion Marble & Mining Company. The company, to which Apperson likely had a connection, had contributed samples of marble and onyx to the fairs exhibits. Apperson had also contributed zinc and manganese ore samples, which would later be donated to the Smithsonian Institution.
Nicknamed the White City for its central complex of white faux-marble neoclassical buildings, the Columbian Exposition represented a seminal social and cultural event as the United States neared the 20th century. Despite a temporary economic downturn, the nation was strong, confident, and optimistic about the future. The overwhelming significance of the fair was not lost on publishers of the era, a fact reflected by the many contemporary printed materials commemorating the event. In our Rare Books Collection, Special Collections holds several books providing descriptions and photographs of various aspects of the fair, its grounds, and exhibits.
Though the Chicago Worlds Fair was not the first of its kind, having as its antecedents numerous municipal and provincial fairs, as well as previous national expositions in London, Philadelphia, and Paris, the Columbian Exposition was perhaps the most significant fair to that time, and few of its successors have so completely captured the publics attention and imagination. In terms of design concepts and themes, future Worlds Fairs (not to mention certain amusement mega-parks) would owe considerable debts to the White City.
Grave marker of Jimmie Monteith, died Normandy, 6 June 1944
. . . it would not be unusual, on this campus, to focus on the story of Jimmy W. Monteith Jr. He came to Virginia Tech in 1937 from Richmond to study Mechanical Engineering. In October 1941, before completing his studies, Monteith, like many of his contemporaries, joined the armed forces, and by 6 June 1944 had already seen combat in North Africa and Sicily, and was among the thousands of soldiers who had trained for the invasion of France. On that day, as a lieutenant in the 16th Regiment of the 1st Infantry Division, Monteith was among the first to land in Normandy on Omaha Beach. What happened next is summed up in the Citation that accompanied the Medal of Honor awarded to him for the action of that day:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty on 6 June 1944, near Colleville-sur-Mer, France. 1st Lt. Monteith landed with the initial assault waves on the coast of France under heavy enemy fire. Without regard to his own personal safety he continually moved up and down the beach reorganizing men for further assault. He then led the assault over a narrow protective ledge and across the flat, exposed terrain to the comparative safety of a cliff. Retracing his steps across the field to the beach, he moved over to where 2 tanks were buttoned up and blind under violent enemy artillery and machinegun fire. Completely exposed to the intense fire, 1st Lt. Monteith led the tanks on foot through a minefield and into firing positions. Under his direction several enemy positions were destroyed. He then rejoined his company and under his leadership his men captured an advantageous position on the hill. Supervising the defense of his newly won position against repeated vicious counterattacks, he continued to ignore his own personal safety, repeatedly crossing the 200 or 300 yards of open terrain under heavy fire to strengthen links in his defensive chain. When the enemy succeeded in completely surrounding 1st Lt. Monteith and his unit and while leading the fight out of the situation, 1st Lt. Monteith was killed by enemy fire. The courage, gallantry, and intrepid leadership displayed by 1st Lt. Monteith is worthy of emulation.
Monteith is one of seven Virginia Tech alumni who have received this nation’s highest award for valor. But if you want to get beyond the descriptions of war, seek out the manuscript collection that bears his name, the Jimmie W. Monteith Collection, Ms1990-062, in Special Collections and read the letters he wrote home before dying in France, or the letters of condolence and sorrow sent to his mother afterwards.
In this letter, written home on 14 May 1944, just a little more than two weeks before the invasion, Monteith explains that he can’t always write as often as he might like: “Old Uncle Sam has a way of taking up a fellows time. However we are old soldiers now and we can stand a few hardships without too much grief.” He’s 25 years old at the time and he ends the letter by trying to set his mother’s mind at ease by understanding the difficulty of her situation and downplaying his own:
By the way Mother I know that these are hard times for you. The nerve strain must be afull. Please don’t pay too much attention to the papers and the radio, those people always try go get a scoop or something sensational (or something) and most of the time they don’t know too much what they are talking about. I am sure nerve strain is cracking up more people than this old war is. Please don’t let it happen to you. Love Jimmie
But as I mentioned earlier, it would not be surprising to talk about Monteith on this anniversary. But we would do well to remember the others.
On two occasions in January and September 1945, The Techgram, a publication of the university, presented photographs with brief captions of those alumni who had died in service during the war. Without claiming to be complete, The Techgram shows eight others who died on 6 June or shortly thereafter, the result of wounds received during the invasion:
Fourteen others died in France before the end of August 1944:
I’m guessing it doesn’t matter if you first learned about the Normandy invasion from contemporary newsreels, or from watching The Longest Day (1962) or Band of Brothers (2001) or from reading Clayton Knight’s book for kids, We Were There at the Normandy Invasion (1956), or any of the fine books of scholarly history written since. It might not matter whether your experience is burdened by the brutality of war or enraged by the politics of it, it is hard—in simple human terms—to look at these faces and read a simple sentence or two for each one and not get a bit choked up . . . on this 70th anniversary.
This week marks the 150th anniversary of the Battles of Cloyds Mountain and the New River Bridge, significant events in the civil war that took place right in Virginia Tech’s backyard. Included in Special Collections’ vast Civil War and manuscript collections is the diary of John Holliday, a non-commissioned officer in Company C of the 91st Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment who fought in these battles, giving us a unique first person perspective of this campaign. His first diary, with entries from May 1st to August 8th, 1864, has been digitized and is available at Special Collections Online.
Holliday joined the regiment in Spring 1864, and according to his first diary entry, dated May 1st, 1864, he was stationed in Fayetteville, in the newly-formed state of West Virginia. On May 3rd he began to march south through the Appalachian Mountains into confederate Virginia with 6,100 men in the three brigades of the Union Army of West Virginia under the command of General George Crook. Crook’s objective was to destroy the Virginia & Tennessee Railroad, cutting off an important supply line for the Confederate army. The rail depot in Dublin and the bridge across the New River in Radford were his primary targets.
After a week of marching, on May 9 Holliday and the rest of Crook’s forces reached a small gap through Cloyd’s Mountain, Virginia, just 5 miles north of Dublin, where confederate forces under Brig. Gen. Albert Jenkins had set up a defensive line, hoping to catch the Union forces in a choke point. Holliday’s brigade, under the cover of the woods, managed to flank the confederate line on the left and divide their attention in the fight.
Holliday wrote, “advanceing under a heavy fire we arrived at the edge of the woods in front of their works… up the hill amid a Storm of Bullets we went driveing the enemy before us, at this moment a Rebel officer Riding a fine Black horse Rode along their lines waveing his hat in full View of both friend and foe tried to Rally his Broken Regt,, in This he failed many a Rifle was aimed at him but he rode off the field apparantly unharmed… The field was ours but at a heavy Cost not less than five hundred of our little Division was either Killed or wounded during the fight”
The battle, though small and involving relatively few troops, contained some of the most savage fighting and highest percentages of casualties in the entire war. The Union sustained 10% losses, while the Confederates sustained more than 20%. In all, more than 1,200 men lost their lives.
Having defeated the Confederate line, Crook’s troops moved into Dublin and destroyed the railroad depot. After camping for the night, on the morning of May 10 they set out again towards Radford and the New River bridge.
“at ten oclock we arrived within one mile of the Bridge. the roar of artillery in our front showed that the enemy was there and ready to dispute our passage at The Bridge…soon shot and shell went screeching through the air….they kept up a heavy fire cutting off limbs of trees around us. one of these falling wounded Sergt. B Lowman of Co. G. another shell striking near by killed two of the 7th Va Cavalry one of them a mere boy the shell striking him on the Breast tore him almost in atoms… our men fired the Bridge the flames spread Rapidly at this moment the enemy Gave way and three Prolonged cheers arose from our division the enemy was in full Retreat,, once more the day was ours,, each Regt formed above The Bridge and watched it untill the Vast structure went down,, three cheers was then given for Genrl Crook our noble Leader”
A page spread from John Holliday’s first diary, featuring his entry for May 10, 1864, The Battle of New River Bridge
The next day (May 11) Holliday traveled to Blacksburg, spending the night at the Preston and Olin Institute, which just eight years later would become the first campus building for Virginia Tech (then known as the Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College).
“Broke Camp early marched to Blacksburg a small Town in Montgomery County Containing Several fine houses the largest is the college a large Brick Building here we halted for the night had some Slight skirmishing on entering the Town in which a col of the militia was killed.”
After a night in Blacksburg, on May 12 Crook’s forces began their retreat back into West Virginia, crossing over Mountain Lake. Rain made their crossing a difficult one. “it has been raining all afternoon Cold and wet which makes it tiresome marching.”The considerable mud the troops encountered forced them to abandon many wagons and heavy supplies including some artillery along the roadside just past the Mountain Lake lodge, earning one hilltop the name ‘Minnie Ball Hill’ for all the minnie balls that were dumped there.
In the following months, Holliday and the 91st Ohio would go on to join the Valley Campaign, fighting in the battles of Lexington (June 11), Lynchburg (June 17-18), Winchester (July 20, 23-24) and Martinsburg (July 28), all recorded in detail in his first diary. An interactive online exhibit that traces some of Holliday’s movements across Virginia and West Virginia is available here.
Montgomery County, Virginia, wasn’t always what it is today. It used to be much, much, MUCH larger. A 1784 land survey in our collections show a portion of it that reached as far as Ohio, at one time.
Ms2011-023, Land Survey, Montgomery County, Virginia, 1784
The text at the top reads as follows:
I certifee that this is a Draught of thirty two thousand acres of Land Surveyed for M. Levi Hollingsworth merchant of Philadelphia in the year 1784, situate onGuyandotte river which falls into the ohio river between the great Ranhaway river, and the Caintucky river, on warrants and orders of Survey (?) from the Land office of Virginia, which warrants with a draught of each thousand acres, and numbered as set down in this draught are returned to the Register Generals office for the said State of Virginia, that the said thirty two thousand acres are surveyed in thirty two Tracts of one thousand acres each in the manner herein delineated, that the whole of the titles are Indisputable. This Land is situated in a most agreeable Climate about thirty nine degrees north Latitude, is fertil well Timbered and waters, and produces many kind of grove(?). Tobaco, Hemp Peas. The river that passes through the Land is navagable into the Ohio, from which all produce can be taken to the best marketts by water, this Country abounds in fish and fowl, and is situated near that (?) and fertile settlement of Caintucky. that Tract of Land is well Timbered with Oak, Hickory, Walnut ash yew, is covered with under growth with Cain and pappaw, and is well watered with (?) (?) Springs.
In actuality, this land covers part of what we would now consider West Virginia. The Guyandotte River breaks away from the Ohio River at the border near Huntington, WV, not far from the Kentucky border. It’s not all that close to our modern Montgomery County, but it does show us how the name, location, and identityof a place can change dramatically with the growth of a nation.
You can read more about this land survey and then-owner of the property, Levi Hollingsworth, in the finding aid online. And if you’d like to see and learn more about historic Montgomery County, we have maps, books, and manuscripts that just might interest you. Feel free to stop by!
It’s research paper time at Virginia Tech! And when it comes to research papers relating to local (and many other) topics, a visit to Special Collections is indispensable. Let’s examine the different ways that Special Collections can help you with a research paper, using Blacksburg’s Lyric Theater–a perennial favorite among students–as an example. (If you don’t need advice on research methods, you can just look at the pretty pictures below!)
The So-Called Independent Approach. You know that you don’t need Special Collections because everything you need for any research paper can be found online. A simple Google search on “lyric theater blacksburg history” takes you to the Lyric’s website, and you find some very useful information there. Soon, though, you realize that, even with some judicious padding, big fonts, and wide margins, you’re not going to have enough for a paper. You go back to Google and run across “The Lyric Theatre: A Look Back at the Beginnings.” The page is a little dated, but it links to a lot of helpful information and images. Now you’ve got a lot more for your paper. Surprise! You’ve just been helped by Special Collections! The problem with this approach is that the Lyric is one of only a few such pages that we’ve put together, and helpful as this page might be, it’s probably not enough for your needs.
The Not-Quite-Novice Approach. You know from experience that the library is a vital starting point for any research project but have never been to Special Collections. You go to the library’s catalog and do a keyword search on blacksburg lyric theater, which pulls just one hit, for The Lyric Resource Notebook, compiled by Stephen Michener in 1994. You visit Special Collections, find a few things in the Resource Notebook to add to your paper, and leave, mistakenly thinking that you’ve found all that the department has on the topic.
The Experienced Approach. You know that Special Collections holds more than books and that you can find these materials through links on the Special Collections website. Through a link on the homepage, you search “lyric” on the Virginia Heritage database and learn that Special Collections also holds a Lyric-related folder in the Vertical Files. You ask for this and are given a folder thick with newsclippings and other materials relating to all areas of the Lyrics history, from its construction, to its renovation, to the recent conversion to digital projection. Another link takes you to the Imagebase, and a search there finds more than a dozen Lyric-related photographs. Digging deeply into the department’s Manuscript Collections Guide, you find that we hold the papers of Smithey & Boynton, the architectural firm that designed the theater building, and that the collection includes the firm’s sketches, building plans, and architectural detail drawings for the Lyric.
The Savvy Approach. You know that Special Collections holds some things that simply aren’t on the public radar and that the archivists are on hand to help you find these things. Using the Savvy Approach, you ask for help. With a simple “What else do you have on the Lyric?” you learn that Special Collections has a substantial collection of monthly calendar-programs that were mailed to local residents from the 1930s through the 1970s.
In addition to showing what was playing on specific dates, the calendars also provide other details on the theater’s operation.
You’re also shown a large collection of lobby cards distributed to the theater’s patrons. The cards all seem to date from the silent film era and are presented in a wide array of shapes and sizes, revealing something not only of the era’s films but also of its marketing techniques.
Because they’ve not yet been processed, these two collections aren’t often used, and they can give your paper an interesting and unusual angle, one that you’d not had if you hadn’t asked a simple question.
So there you have four approaches to a local history research paper, and Special Collections provided some help to each. If you think that it seemed like too much effort to find everything the department has on a single topic, we agree. Although our materials are much more easily accessible to researchers than they were, say, 20 years ago, we’re constantly striving to make things easier, so that searching in several different places or relying on an archivist’s memory to find everything won’t be necessary. Until that distant day when everything is retrievable through a single search, though, remember to use the Savvy Approach and ask us for help. That’s what we’re here for.
![Letter from Isaac Cox to his wife, June 29, 1862, Taswill [Tazewell] County](https://i0.wp.com/scuablog.lib.vt.edu/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/ms2012_071-copy.jpg?ssl=1)
