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mcneill's 
 
 Last 
 
 Charge 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF A 
 
 iaring (Hanfi^htvnU 
 
 IN THE 
 
 CIVIL WAR 
 
 BY 
 
 Rev. J. W. DUFFEY. D. D. 
 
MCNEILL'S 
 
 LAST 
 
 CHARGE -^ 
 

 COPYRIGHT 19 
 
 BY 
 
 J. W. DUFFEY 
 
 The Geo F. Norton Pub. Cc 
 Winche^er, Va. 
 
 gCI,A31832r, 
 
 ^ 
 
nPHE publication of McNeills Last 
 A Charge is made possible by the 
 generosity of Dr. Joseph I. Triplet t, of 
 Mt. Jackson, Virginia, himself a mem- 
 ber of McNeill's Command and a gal- 
 lant soldier, with whose compliments, 
 as with those also of the writer, the 
 narrative is presented to the surviving 
 members of McNeill's Partisan Rang- 
 ers. 
 
 J. AV. DrFFP:v. 
 
 Winchester, Virginia . 
 Julv, 1912. 
 
Captain John H. McNeill 
 
KETCHES of McNeill's exploits, wliieli have ap- 
 peared from time to time, have })asse(l l)v witli 
 slight mention of the most tragic event in liis 
 career — that in which the daring leader met liis 
 fate at Mt. Jackson, Virginia, Octoher o, 1S()4. 
 At the re(|uest of the snrviving ofiicers and manv 
 of the private members of McXeilTs Connnand, 
 the following account is furnished by one who 
 |)articipate(l in that biief Imt eventful campaign. 
 
 The Command was known as McNeill's Partisun Ranirers, 
 commissioned by the Confederate authorities, and organized 
 by Captain McNeill, in the summer of 1<S()2. His rallying point 
 was Moorefield, Hardy County, West Virginia, but the records 
 show that his operations ranged through the counties of Hardy, 
 Hampshire, Mineral, Grant and Pendleton in West Virginia, 
 and into Maryland, Pennsylvania and tlie Valley of Virginia. 
 His roster scarcely reached two hundred men, and his active 
 strength was usually limited to one-fourth that number, and yet 
 he threatened in rapid succession so many strategic i)oints oc- 
 cupied by the enemy, it is safe to say that, from first to last, he 
 held at bay twenty-five thousand Federals who otherwise would 
 have gone to strengthen the forces in front of General Lee. 
 Considering the actual number of his fighting force, his cap- 
 tures, especially of prisoners, will compare favoral^ly with those 
 of any other Confederate leader. 
 
 As the capture by McNeill's men of Major-Generals Crook 
 and Kelley in Cumberland, Ah\rvland, is a widely-known in- 
 cident of the civil war, and as that capture was made after the 
 death of Captain McNeil, it may not be improper to state here 
 
that Captain McNeill's son, Lieutenant Jesse C. McNeill, was 
 in command on the Cumberland raid. That remarkable cap- 
 ture was engineered by John B. Fay, a native of Cumberland, 
 and one of the most intrepid of the Rangers. 
 
 The latter part of September, 1864, Sheridan's army ad- 
 vanced up the Shenandoah Valley to Harrisonburg, holding 
 Winchester, sixty-seven miles in his rear, as a base of supplies. 
 Captain McNeill concluded to make a reconnaisance of that 
 intermediate territory with a view of intercepting one of Sheri- 
 dan 's supply trains. Accordingly, on September 30th, he 
 picked out of his Command about fifty men, and, leaving 
 Lieut. L S. Welton in command of the camp in the Cove, a 
 favorite rendevous girded by mountains in the eastern part of 
 Hardy County, he started on what proved to be his last expe- 
 dition. 
 
 That evening he camped near Orkney Springs, and dis- 
 patched Joseph and John Triplett to Mt. Jackson, their native 
 town, twelve miles distant, to ascertain whether or not any of 
 Sheridan's wagon trains were in that section. 
 
 The Valley pike, a macadamized road which passes through 
 Mt. Jackson, was the military highway of the Shenandoah 
 Valley, and running parrellel with it on the west side of the 
 Valley are two roads, known as the Middle and the Back road, 
 the distance between them varying from two to four miles. 
 But the intervening hills obstruct, for the most part, the view 
 from one road to the other. 
 
 Before his scouts had time to report from Mt. Jackson, 
 McNeill was informed of a wagon train moving down the Val- 
 ley below Edinburg, ten miles north of Mt. Jackson. He de- 
 
 6 
 
camped at once, and so effectually eluded his own scouts that 
 they failed to strike his trail again. At daybreak he was on 
 the Back road proceeding down the Valley ; but not until late 
 in the afternoon could a position be secured near enough to the 
 pike to ascertain the strength of the train guard. From a hill- 
 top, almost due west of Middletown, could be seen a hundred 
 wagons moving leisurely down the pike; Imt, alas, there could 
 be seen also a line of infantry covering both sides of the train, 
 a guard of at least fifteen hundred men. 
 
 Ordinarily men accept conditions of fatigue and hunger 
 with a measure of equanimity if something worth while has 
 been accomplished, but that night when the Rangers camped 
 near the mountain, there was absolutely nothing to nibble at. 
 not even '' food for reflection " — a hard day's ride, followed 
 by a night of fasting, if not one of prayer. 
 
 The next day, returning up the Back road, McNeill learned 
 that a guard of a hundred cavalry had been posted by Sheri- 
 dan at a bridge about a mile south of Mt. Jackson. He con- 
 sidered, if that guard could be captured and the bridge burned. 
 Sheridan's supply trains would be interrupted and a fresh sup- 
 ply of horses secured. He therefore determined to make the 
 attack at daybreak next morning. Meanwhile his force was 
 being reduced from sheer exhaustion. The men could survive, 
 but many of the horses had reached the limit of endurance. 
 One man, escaping the Captain's eye, rode to a farm house in 
 quest of horse feed, but the granary was empty, if not "swept 
 and garnished." To establish her loyalty, however, to the 
 Rangers, the lone woman of the house produced what the boys 
 called " bread and spread" — a slice an inch thick cut clear 
 
 7 
 
across the loaf, covered witli buttei' and topped off with a liber- 
 al layer of apple-butter — the taste whereof lingers still. 
 
 When we reached a point opposite Edinburg, heavy can- 
 nonading up the Valley could be distinctly heard, and assum- 
 ing that Sheridan and Earle were engaged in battle, McNeill 
 decided to burn the bridge at Edinburg, hoping thereby to re- 
 t ird Slieridan if he should ratreit. Four men were detailed 
 to execute the order. The sudden appearance of four Con- 
 federates in the street was a new sensation in the village. 
 That typical autumnal afternoon of October 2d was probably 
 Sunday, for the women and children who crowded the doors 
 were " fixed up " in neat looking calico dresses, the best out- 
 tit which the times afforded. When it became known 
 that the purpose of the Confederates was to burn the bridge, 
 the sensation reached its climax. The women refused to give 
 matches or fire, because, they insisted, if tlje bridge was burned, 
 the Federals would retaliate by burning the village. Swayed 
 between sympathy and duty, as wasCoriolanus before the gates 
 of Home, those Confederates affected to fire the bridge with an 
 armful of straw which, it was believed, would make a smoke 
 that McNeill could see from the adjoining hill, but which would 
 not ignite the timbers of the bridge — nor did it. Returning 
 to the shelter of the hills, he rested his men and horses for a 
 few hours and then started for Mt. Jackson. 
 
 The l)ridge over the Shenandoah, about a mile and a half 
 south of Mt. Jackson, was an important link in the chain of 
 connection between Sheridan's army and his base of supplies, 
 and of first importance in the emergency of a retreat. He had 
 ordered what was considered a sufhciently strong guard — a 
 
 8 
 
hundred men — detai-lied from the Stli Ohio Cavali'v, to i)rotect 
 that i);)int. The guard-earn}) was loeate(l neai- the soutli end 
 of the hridge, and on the east side of the pike. 
 
 MeXeill assumed tliat the p;)int of least resistanee would 
 be the rear, or east side of the eamp. He advaneed under 
 eover of night along the west sid(> of the A^alley, and i)assed 
 
 Mt. Jackson Bridge, near which Captain McNeill was wounded. 
 
 quite four miles south of the eamp, then taking an easterly 
 course, crossing the Shenandoah River at Netf's ford, thence 
 to Meems' bottoms. To reach the point of attack, his line of 
 march described a half circle of eight miles. Within four 
 hundred yards of the camp the column was halted, a line of 
 
 9 
 
attack formed, and orders were given in a low tone. The ad- 
 vance was to be made in a walking gait, a straiglit-line-front 
 to be preserved until the command to " charge " should be 
 given: then, with a yell, to drive spurs and dash among the 
 tents, each man to become his own commander. 
 
 McNeill preferred not to attack in the dark, but rather as 
 the first gray dawn appeared, yet he found that to linger then 
 would be so extremely hazardous, he decided to attack at once. 
 The advance was made in due order and quiet, even the tramp 
 of the horses was mutHed by the sod of the meadow. The out- 
 line of the tents could be discerned by the dim light of the 
 camp fires. 
 
 Scarcely half the intervening space had been passed when 
 the silence was broken by the call of the camp-guard to "halt," 
 and simultaneously he fired a shot. McNeill's response was 
 prompt, and his voice rang with its old-time vigor, "Charge! " 
 With a wild yell his men dashed toward the first row of tents, 
 but at that point there was a momentary pause in the center of 
 the line, the two wings of the line curving meanwhile toward 
 the center, forming a crescent, and at the same time pistols and 
 carbines were cracking in every direction, though it was still 
 too dark to distinguish a friend from a foe. But the pause was 
 only momentary. It was as if men accustomed to following 
 an intrepid leader required a second thought to make self- 
 leadership real. Then, like the drop of a thunderbolt, the 
 whole troop was in the midst of the camp, each man grappling 
 with whatever conditions he found. 
 
 On the right, Davy Parsons had just passed the first tent 
 when a tall Yankee, already mounted , made a dash at him with 
 
 10 
 
drawn saber, but Parson's shot was too quick for him, and the 
 man fell from his horse. Parsons jumped down to secure his 
 pistol, and had hardly done so before he was face to face with 
 two other Yankees on the ground. With a pistol in each hand 
 he leveled on ^he two men at th'^ sani'^ tiine, both of whom af- 
 fected to suri-ender, but while he was disarming one, the other 
 slipped behind a horse an<l disappinuvd. 
 
 On the first charge. Bob Lobb's horse ran ott" and, leap- 
 ing camp fires, skipping tents and escaping shots, carried him 
 beyond the camp. But wheeling, LobI) was soon in the midst 
 of things, aiid wliile this scril)e. with an empty pistol, was en- 
 deavoring to persuade a brother in blue to " behave himself," 
 Lobb appeared on the scene with five loaded revolvers and set- 
 tled the ''controversy" without a casualty. W. H. Pool dashed 
 through the camp and overtook some of the escaping enemy, 
 and brought down one with a bullet whom his word could not 
 stop. Among the tents and on the outskirts thirty Rangers 
 were desperately Imsy dealing with a hundred Federals. In 
 less time than it takes to tell the story the work was done. 
 
 But meanwhile, and before firing had ceased, it was whis- 
 pered that Ca})tain McNeill was shot. Parsons, who is re- 
 ferred to above, was in pursuit of his third Yankee when he 
 discovered the Captain on the ground. He had fallen inside the 
 first line of tents, and was lying on his left side with his head 
 raised on his elbow, (leorge Little ,whom we called ' ' Mammy 
 because he was our commissary, was at his side, and soon others 
 came, among them Lieut. Jesse C. McNeill. The wounded Cap- 
 tain outlined the route which the men and prisoners should 
 take and then added, " move at once and leave me to my fate."" 
 
 11 
 
Ta' the time the men niul priso!iers were in line, the C'aj)- 
 tain liad been lifted to his saddle by Parsons, Little, Wayne 
 CV)sner, Nelson Kiracoffeand Marcellus Alexander. One man 
 
 Rev. Addison Weller 
 
 led the horse, while the others with difficulty supported the 
 Captain. It was hope<l he could be taken out of the enemy's 
 lines, but l)efore i)rocecding half a mile it became evident his 
 
 12 
 
condition was too serious for him to be moved at all. The 
 nearest dwelling was on the pike al)out a mile south of the 
 camp, and was occupied b}- Kev. Addison Weller, a Methodist 
 preacher. In the side yard of that house the Captain was 
 lifted from his horse, a swift and tough little roan he had cap- 
 tured near John Arnold's, on Knobly Mountain, West Vir- 
 ginia, in his first exploit as leader of the Hangers, and which 
 had served him in practically all his campaigns. 
 
 As he lay on the grass, his men, with sixty prisoners and 
 horses, filed through the same gate, many of them lingering in 
 pathetic devotion at the side of their sufi'ering chief. When 
 all had passed and the column was heading toward the juoun- 
 tain on the west side of the A^illey, it developed that there was 
 at least one praying man in the company, for that man wheel- 
 ed his horse, went back and, kneeling beside the Captain, 
 ofi'ered a fervent petition, commending him to a merciful God. 
 The survivors of McNeill's Rangers do not need to be told at 
 this late day that the man was Nelson Kiracoffe, a lovable 
 character whose piety commanded the respect, as his courage 
 did the admiration of his comrades in arms. 
 
 All possible haste was made to get the prisoners out of the 
 Valley. The guard on duty at the bridge, with others who 
 had escaped with their horses and arms, harrassed the rear of 
 our column for several miles, their shots, however, flying wide 
 of the mark — perhaps intentionally vagrant to avoid striking 
 their own men, for the predominance of blue coats in the line 
 suggested a company of Federals rather than Confederates. 
 Trailing far up tl>e mountain side, a halt wasmade and a coun- 
 cil held : what should be done with the prisoners, for there 
 
 13 
 
was no hope of reaching Early's army or a Confederate prison. 
 They were paroled. Sworn on the virgin rocks and released, 
 they scampered down the mountain like children let out of 
 school. 
 
 The man who had served as guide through the eventful 
 night and had rendered valuable service in many ways, was 
 Captain HughRamsey Koontz, Company K of the 7th Virginia 
 Cavalry, Rosser's brigade. Pie was a native of Mt. Jackson. 
 On taking leave of the Rangers, after the release of the prison- 
 ers, Captain Koontz was invited to select one of the best of the 
 captured horses. He was not long in making choice. With 
 scant apology, this writer was prevailed on to dismount. He 
 took my horse — but a few hours before the Yankee Captain's 
 horse, a glossy bay, with mettle to make good every mark of 
 excellence which its graceful form presaged. Yet now, there 
 is but little doubt, the episode shared the irony of fate. If 
 Captain Koontz was on that horse four days later, which is 
 quite probable, the spirited beast "made good" by returning 
 to its own kith, kin and color, if not to its own country; for the 
 gallant Koontz, leading the 7th Virginia Cavalry in a charge 
 on the Orkney Springs road, fell mortally wounded, and the 
 riderless horse dashed into the enemy's lines. 
 
 From the mountainside Parsons was dispatched on a fresh 
 horse to Moorefield, fifty miles west, to bring Mrs. McNeill to 
 her wounded husband. For two nights and near noon of the 
 third day Parsons had been almost continuously in the saddle. 
 Life would be a failure should there be no opportunity for a 
 nap. No surprise then or blame either, if in that third night, 
 while pressing over the Howard's Lick Mountain, a brush of 
 
 14 
 
the tree limbs in his face awoke liim where — he knew not where. 
 He had lost his way. Perhaps the new Yankee horse, already 
 inoculated by the ridi^r with the guerrilla spirit, had taken to 
 the bushes as a natural result. Nevertheless, Parsons was soon 
 
 Lieutenant I. S. Welton. 
 
 l)ack in the road, and before day (Liwn the soi-rowful message 
 he bore was breaking the heart of Mis. McNeill. 
 
 15 
 
The regretful, not to say the aggravating, feature in the 
 c'lse of Captain McNeil) was our having to leave him in what 
 was then practically the enemy's territory; and no one felt that 
 more keenly than himself. He had been a prisoner once. In 
 the early part of the war, in Missouri, lie had fallen into the 
 hands of the enemy, being slightly wounded at the time, but 
 made his escape, and pioneered his way by a tortuous route to 
 the South Branch Valley in Hardy County, W. Va. His 
 prison experience was short but acute. It had deepened his 
 horror of capture, as it had also kindled his courage with a 
 new fire. From the hour of his escape, if not before, he was 
 a strenuous fighter. Toward the prisoner he was uniformly 
 considerate and humane, not to say sympathetic; but the 
 armed foe he fronted with an all-consuming and relentless 
 purpose. The small revolver at his side rarely came from its 
 cover. His trusty Aveapon was a double-barrel shot gun , loaded 
 with buck shot, and he coveted close range. 
 
 The method of warfare adopted by General Francis Ma- 
 rion harmonized with McNeill's nature and environments — tio 
 spring a surpi-ise on the enemy and efi'ectually disable him be- 
 fore he could grasp the situation, and although he rarely 
 brought into action a tithe of the men that Marion commanded, 
 yet in skill of leadership aiud feat of arms, the acliievements 
 of McNeill transcend those of the Kevolutionary hero. 
 
 To recount his captures would be to write a history of his 
 operations, which is not the purpose of this narrative, yet an 
 example maybe given: By daybreak attack, September 11, 
 1863, with his men dismounted, he surprised a camp of the 
 First West Virginia Infantry, six companies, under Major 
 
 16 
 
Stepheiison, on Cemetery Hill, near Moore field, and captured 
 the entire outfit, except the Major, who escaped half clad in 
 the darkness with a few of his men. AnK)ng the prisoners 
 taken were 3 captains, 5 lieutenants and 144 privates. Mc- 
 Neill's casualties were Lieut. Welton and W. H. Maloney 
 painfully, but not seriously, wounded. 
 
 Havino; said this much, it is but iust to add that when 
 
 'to 
 
 Lieut. Jesse C. McNeill succeeded to the Captaincy he was no less 
 daring and successful than his father, as the following incident 
 will indicate: Three miles north of Moorefield, November 27, 
 1864, with less than fifty men, in open dxiylight and a clear 
 field, he led the charge against 150 Federal Calvary command- 
 ed by Lieut. -Col. R. E. Fleming, who occupied a strong posi- 
 tion and was supported by a piece of artillery; but the young 
 Captain fell on them with such desperate intent that they were 
 soon dislodged, and, having put them to rout, he directed a 
 sc|uad to pi ess their rear, while himself, with the remaining 
 fragment of his force, swept across the Old Fields, taking a 
 short cut, and intercepted the fleeing column at the junction 
 of the Old Maid's Lane and the main road, where a hand to 
 hand encounter ensued with sabers and the butts of empty pis- 
 tols. He captuied tlieir artillery, wagon and ambulance, and 
 the large number of killed, wounded and prisoners taken, left 
 but a fraction of the enemy to escape. The incident has addi- 
 tional significance Avhen it is remembered that Colonel Flem- 
 ing liad been equipped and sent out with special orders to 
 '■ capture, destroy or otherwis:? annihilate McNeill." That 
 night McNeill camped at the southern edge of Moorefield, using 
 tlie Court House in the town as a garrison for thn prisoners. 
 
 17 
 
The next morning- at diyhreak a detachment of Colonel Flem- 
 ing's force, wliich had been dispatched by another route to act 
 in c:)njuiiction with him, entered the Moorefield Valley, and, 
 not having learned of the C'oloners defeat the evening before, 
 dashed into the town. McNeill rose from his blanket in fight- 
 ing trim and huiled them back through the streets, anticipat- 
 ing a morning meal in the shape of another bitch of prisoners; 
 but those Y inkees were mouited on rice horsets which dis- 
 tanced their pursurers, and in getting out of the Valley they 
 antedcited the flying machine by fifty years. 
 
 At the lime of the Mt , Jackson incident, the Confedwate 
 records at Richmond show, McNeill had captured 2,000 pris- 
 o^iers — about forty prisonei's for each man in active service. 
 A reputable -lui^hoi-iry on the war says of the Rangers: "It 
 lias been a mys:ery how tliey operated so long and so success- 
 fully in a territory often occupied by overwhelming forces of 
 the enemy, and yet they seldom or never made a miscalculation 
 or a fatal blunder. Whether they were asg^iilants or acting on 
 the defensive they were equally successful." 
 
 Tlie Rev. Mr. Weller and his family vacatod their own 
 bedroom for Captain McNeill, and while still in the flurry of 
 the events of the morning, several wounded Federals were 
 brought fion the camp and left at their house. The peril of 
 sheltering a wounded rebel, espei^ially McNeill, whom Sheridan 
 had designated as " the most dangerous and daring of all the 
 bushwackers," it was hoped would be measurably relieved, if 
 not altogether neutralized, by the presence of wounded Feder- 
 als in the same house. But that hope was dashed. A suspi- 
 cion soon developed into a prol)al)ility that the wounded Con- 
 
 18 
 
federate was Captain McNeill. The fii-st ^(jiiad of Federals 
 who bohed into the liouse to make investigalion wei-e informed 
 that the man's name was John Hanson, which was true, hut 
 not the whole truth, for his full name was John Ha.nson Mc- 
 Neill. To escape partici})ati()n in that ruse, the preacher host, 
 for the time being, joined the "choir invisil)le." Those in- 
 
 Partial view of Weller house, showing one-story end in which McNeill lay. 
 
 dustrious Federals showad no interest whatever in tlieir own 
 wounded comrades in the same house, one of whom died that 
 night and was buried in the garden by the preacher. 
 
 A day or two later a Confederate deserter, who claimed to 
 be able to identify McNeill, was secured and brought to the 
 
 19 
 
house; but in the interval Mrs.Wellerhad cutoflt' his heavy beard 
 and long hair, and had so transformed his appeara^nce that 
 the man failed to recognize him; or, it may be, the guiUy de- 
 serter, rebuked and smitten in conscience by the reproacliful 
 glances of Mrs. Weller, who recognized him as a former ac- 
 (|uaintance, chose to falsify rather than betray. At any rate, 
 he declared the wounded man was not McNei41. 
 
 Meanwhile the services of Dr. Leonidas Triplett, of Mt. 
 Jackson, were secured. Dr. Triplett was an eminent physician 
 and surgeon, with a wide experience in army practice, and 
 withal a warm-hearted Southerner, two of wlx)se sons, Joseph 
 I. and John E., were members of McNeill's Rangers. Tlie 
 latter is how a clergymen of the Presbyterian Church. 
 
 Before Dr. Triplett made an examination of the wound, 
 the general impression was that Captain McNeill had been shot 
 by one of his own men. The ball had entered near the spinal 
 column on the left side, between the lower rib and thigh, making 
 a wound not unlike the fatal wound of President Garfield. 
 Suspicion at first pointed to a certain man as having seized 
 the opportunity for perpetrating the dast^irdly deed in revenge 
 for a petty grievance. That man was an in terloper who dropped 
 into camp a few days l>efore, and disappeared shortly after the 
 Mt. Jackson incident. A maturer judgment, however, has dis- 
 credited that suspicion. 
 
 Several years after the war a man who had served in the 
 Federal Army claimed the distinction of having shot McNeill. 
 His statement was that he had been captured and disarmed by 
 one of the Rangers and left standing beside a horse, but that he 
 had retained a small pocket pistol, and with that, reaching over 
 
 20 
 
the neck of tlie horse, shot tlie captain. Conceding that the 
 man was there, his story has the general air of improbahihty, 
 and is contradicted by the nature of the wound; that is, if tlie 
 shot was fired from the ground, as he asserts, the course of the 
 ball should have been upward, whereas its course was down- 
 ward. The ball entered where there was no bone to deflect, 
 and taking a downward course lodged in the groin. Besides, 
 if it had occurred, as the Federal soldier claimed, the pre- 
 sumption is the Captain would have been able to giv-e some 
 intelligible account of it; for in the few weeks in which he 
 survived he discussed, at intervals, the situation. He could 
 not explain how it occurred, but there was one thing of which 
 he was definitely and painfully certain— he knew WHEX it 
 occurred . 
 
 The only rational explanation, aiid the one in which the 
 Captain concurred is, that in the dash against the first row of 
 tents, himself a few paces in front leading the charge, when the 
 firing was reckless and in the dark, he received his death wound. 
 At that juncture, it will be recalled, there was a pause in the 
 charge, unusual and mysterious as it was awkward and peril- 
 ous, and near that spot, inside the line of the first tent, is 
 where Parsons found him lying on the ground. The consen- 
 sus of opinion is, he was accidentally shot by one of his own 
 men. 
 
 AVhile Dr. Triplett was giving attention to the patient, 
 the situation became more serious on account of the extreme 
 difficulty in obtaining proper nourishment. The resources of 
 the country, in which two armies had been alternatinjr for three 
 years, were literally exhausted, and at that time the countiy 
 
 21 
 
was overrun by detatchments, scouts and stragglers of Sheri- 
 dan's army. Taking the chances of capture, John Triplett 
 became the lone forager, and scoured the community for chick- 
 ens, the broth of whicli, together with eggs, made up the die- 
 tary list. 
 
 Mrs. McNeill had lost no time in reaching the bedside of 
 her husband, having crossed two rugged mountains on horse- 
 back. No woman could have been more admirably fitted for 
 a crisis than Mrs. Jemima Cunningham McNeill, whose noble 
 figure and graceful dignity of manner made her impressive in 
 any circle. Refined and cultured, but not efieminate; re- 
 sourceful and courageous, but not masculine; a religionist, 
 without fanaticism; a saint, without sanctimony, she was pre- 
 pared to discharge the double function of nurse and priest. 
 Through her ministry, the hope of recovery revived, and the 
 heart of her husband was blessed. If the former was destined 
 to an early blight, the latter was assured by the presence and 
 proof of those qualities which survive the tomb. Two hearts 
 that for man}^ years had been one in love, had become one in 
 religious faith and exjierience. 
 
 Over a fortnight liad passed when the Federal Army be- 
 gan to fall back, and, camping at Rude's Hill for the night, 
 Sheridan made the Weller home his headquarters. After sup- 
 per, General Sheridan expressed a desire to see the wounded 
 Confederate, of whom he had heard, and whose identity had 
 not yet been establislied. At the bedside he made sundry in- 
 quiries of the wounded man concerning the attack and capture 
 of the Federals at the bridge, and then asked " are you not 
 McNeill himself?" To which the Captain replied, ''I am." 
 
 22 
 
One of Sheridan's staff, a surgeon, who was in the room at the 
 same time, stepped to the bedside and, extending his hand, 
 said '' Captain McNeill, I know you, and am sorry to find you 
 in this condition. I was once a prisoner in your hands, and 
 your treatment was so magnanimous, I now hold myself ready 
 to render you any service in my power." 
 
 The next morning on leaving, the surgeon brought a sup- 
 ply of nourishment and drugs, not omitting a standard brand 
 of liquid spirits. 
 
 But Sheridan's farewell that morning was not unlike in 
 horror the dying Herod's scheme of massacre to make sure of 
 mourners at his funeral. All the outbuildings of the Weller 
 home were fired by his order, the proximity of some of them, 
 it must have been known, would endanger if not destroy the 
 dwelling. Fortunately, Early's cavalry pressing the Federal 
 rear, arrived in time to help fight fire and save the dwelling, 
 on one side of which the heat had already melted the window 
 panes. 
 
 There was an ebb and flow in the currents of tlie two 
 armies. For several days it was hard to tell which army was 
 in possession of that section of the Valley. Sheridan mean- 
 while, proceeding on the principle that a bird in hand is worth 
 two in the bush, ordered a detail and ambulance to move Mc- 
 Neill down the Valley to a secure place in the Federal lines ; 
 but when the ambulance arrived, McNeill could not be found. 
 The Weller family had conjectured the ominous silence of 
 General Sheridan, and, but a few hours before, with the assist- 
 ance of others, had placed McNeill in a Confederate ambulance 
 en route to Harrisonburg. 
 
 23 
 
For their unwearied kindness to Captain andMrs. McNeill, 
 the Weller family deserve the highest commendation. The 
 last message to this writer from McNeill's devoted and gallant 
 son, Jesse, wdio died while this sketch was being prepared, was 
 an expression of warm and grateful atfection for the AA'ellers. 
 
 In Hill's hotel in Harrisonburg, Captain McNeill lingered 
 until November 10, 1864, when, in the presence of his family, 
 Mrs. McNeill, Miss Emma, Jesse C. and Hanson, and two 
 nephews, Edward and Thomas Williams, of Hardy County — 
 like Stonewall Jackson, also wounded by his own men, like him 
 also, he passed over the river to rest under the shade of the 
 trees. 
 
 He was buried in the Harrisonburg cemetery with Masonic 
 honors. Two months later the body was removed and interred 
 in the ceiuetery at Moorefield, where it now reposes, surround- 
 ed by many of his fallen officers and men, and surmounted by 
 a graceful shaft, the lone sentinel on the hill top keeping watch 
 over the beautiful Valley where he was born, and the scene of 
 many of his daring and brilliant exploits. 
 
 24 
 
Captain Jesse C. McNeill 
 
 25 
 
MUSTER ROLL 
 
 THIS roster includes, as far as can be secured, the entire en- 
 rollment of McNeill's Rangers during the war, but only 
 about one-third of the number were on the effective list at any 
 one time: 
 
 McNeill, John H., Captain Boggs, Augustus A.. Lieut. Hopkins, David E., Sergeant 
 
 McNeill, Jesse C, Captain Vandiver, Joseph L., Lieut- Little, George, Sergeant 
 
 Welton Isaac 8., Lieutenant Taylor, Harrison, 1st Sergeant Judy, Isaac S., Sergeant 
 
 Dolan, Bernard J.. Lieutenant Daily, Chas. James, Sergeant Miles, William, Sergeant 
 
 Acker. John 
 Alexander, M. S- 
 Allen, Green M. 
 Allen, J. Herman 
 Allen, I. 
 Albright, James 
 Armentrout, Sol. 
 Athey. William N. 
 Anderson, Nath?n H- 
 
 Bacon, P. E. 
 Baldwin, Henry 
 Bare, William 
 Barnum, Joseph V. 
 Bean, David F. 
 Bean, Fred. 
 Bierkamp, William C. 
 Bennett, Henry 
 Bobo, Jack 
 Bowman, Jack 
 Blakemore, William 
 Blakemore, George 
 Branson, William 
 Brathwaite, Newton 
 Browning, Ed. R. 
 
 Clary, Lloyd Lowndes 
 Clary, Richard L. 
 Clary, Thaddeus W. 
 Carson, John 
 
 Cain, Thomas 
 Carrell, George 
 Cleaver, William 
 Clutter, Jeff. W. 
 Cannon, Jack 
 Congar, David 
 Connelly, Jack 
 Cooper, J. 
 Coleman, Jack 
 Cokeley, John 
 Cokley, George 
 Coffman, Joseph 
 Cosner, Wayne 
 Cresap, Van S. 
 Chisholm, W. Wallace 
 Crawford, James W. 
 Childs, Benj. 
 Cunningham, John H. 
 Cunningham, Geo. F. 
 
 Davis, Rezin C. 
 Davis, Frank 
 Daugherty, Samuel 
 Decvemon, Peter 
 Dyce, Samuel 
 Dyer, Robin 
 Duffey, J. W. 
 Duval, H. Rieman 
 
 Enright, E. C. 
 
 Fay, John B. 
 Fisher, John O. 
 Frederick, Lewis 
 
 Gray Sinclare K. 
 Grady, George 
 
 Harness, Geo. S. 
 Harness, W. W. 
 Hack, Andrew C. 
 Harper, John 
 Harbaugh, Adam 
 Harvey, John L, 
 Halterman, John 
 Hess, James K. P. 
 Heavener, Jesse 
 Hallar, C- Ritchie 
 Hill, Ervin C. 
 High, John W. 
 Hopkins, William 
 Houck, J. William 
 Houseworth, John 
 Hoard, Hiram 
 Hutton, John 
 Hoye, Wm. D. 
 Hunter, W. 
 Hutter, C. R. 
 
 Jacobs, Geo. W. 
 Johnson, Fisher 
 
 26 
 
MUSTER ROLL— Continued. 
 
 Johnson, Charles 
 Johnson, John 
 Jones, Samuel M. 
 Jones- H. Clay 
 Judy, David 
 
 Kellerman, Henry 
 Kiracofe, Nelson 
 
 Larey, Matt 
 Liggett, Robert 
 Logan, Lloyd D. 
 Long, John R. 
 Lobb, Robert G. 
 Lynn, John G- 
 Lynn, Sprigg S. 
 Luke, William 
 
 Mace, John 
 Mirtin, WJliam 
 Martin, Taylor 
 Maginnis, James 
 Markwood, J. W. 
 Markwood, George 
 Mason, James W. 
 Maloney. Wm. H. 
 Magalis, William 
 Maupin, A. Lincoln 
 Michael, Isaac 
 Miller, Simon 
 Miller, Rader 
 Miller, Charles F. 
 Miller, James 
 Mills, Reuben 
 Mitchell, James 
 Mountz, John D. 
 Moore, Samuel 
 McQuade, John 
 
 Neville, Thornton 
 Nichols. Charles W. 
 Norris, William 
 
 Ohaver, M. V. 
 Ohaver, John W- 
 Overmon, John 
 O'Rourke, John 
 Oats, Isaac E. 
 
 Parker, Joseph A. 
 Painter, N. B- 
 Parsons, David M. 
 Pennybaker, J. Ed. 
 Pool. William H. 
 
 Reed, John 
 Ridder, Henry W. 
 Richardson, John 
 Richarj3, Bin. Frank. 
 Riddleberger, Joseph 
 Roger, John 
 Robinson, I. N. 
 Rosser, Robert R. 
 Rhodes, Oliver L. 
 
 Seymour, Abel 
 Seymour, William 
 Seymour. Henry 
 Shovvalter, David R. 
 Shovalter, John 
 Shore, Harry W. 
 Sanders, James 
 Shafer, Samuel H. 
 Smith, John 
 Smith, Daniel 
 Seaman, William 
 
 Seaman, Jacob 
 Shytiger. William 
 Shryock, James 
 Scott, F. 
 
 Shipman, Jonathan 
 Shoemaker, William 
 Steele, John 
 Stewart. Fred A. 
 Stickley, J. Snyder 
 Spalding, B. William 
 
 Tabb, Peyton 
 Tabb, Harlan P. 
 Temple, James M. 
 Taylor, George R. 
 Tevebaugh, Isaac 
 Tucker, Samuel T. 
 Tucker, Erasmus 
 Trumbo, Morgan G. 
 Triplett. Joseph I. 
 Triplett, John E. 
 Trusheart, Henry M. 
 
 Vallandigham, Jas. L. 
 Vandiver, George V. 
 Van Pelt, John 
 
 Watkins, Charles W. 
 Westmoreland, M. 
 Welsh, James 
 White, Charles W. 
 Wotring, Benj. F. 
 Whitmer. John 
 Williamson. John B. 
 Wilson. John 
 Wilson, James 
 Williams. V. Osceola. 
 
 27 
 
A MONTH after General Lee had 
 surrendered at Appomattox, Cap- 
 tain Jesse C. McNeill with a fragment 
 of his company met, by previous agree- 
 ment, a detachment of Federal cavalry 
 at the residence of David Gibson, a 
 mile west of Romney, West Virginia, 
 and were paroled and disbanded May 
 10, I860. 
 
 28 
 
UL 27 ^ 'S^5 
 
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