A quick redirect to a couple contributions that I made (here, here, here, and here) to Harry Smelter’s First Manassas/Bull Run focused Bull Runnings blog. The first piece is found in a July 1895 issue of the Page Courier and was likely written by Confederate veteran Robert C. Bragonier. The other piece (a letter from his brother MVB Kite) about the death of Willie Kite (John William Kite) was found in an issue of the Page News & Courier from the 1920s.

There is no doubt that, even in the middle of the Civil War, many a good ol’ country boy prank was played amongst friends. One such prank from some 140 years ago was well documented in the October 1894 issue of “Confederate Veteran Magazine.” Well, uh, it was a prank, but it wasn’t necessarily the “boys” that were the major players… but to the heart of the story…

An 18 year-old farm boy and native of St. Joseph, Tensas Parish, Louisiana at the opening of the Civil War, Benjamin Drake Guice originally enlisted with Company D, 6th Louisiana Infantry on June 4, 1861 at Camp Moore, Louisiana. By September 1862, Guice was on the sick call list and sometime after that, had parted company his Louisiana comrades. On January 13, 1863, Guice enlisted in Co. D, 7th Virginia Cavalry (“Massanutten Rangers”) in Luray.

In a letter dated August 10, 1894, Guice recalled a humorous tale of being in Page County with some Page County comrades

I went one night in company with a comrade to call on some young ladies, and as the country at that time was infested with the boys in blue, we agreed to stand guard alternately while the other fellow went in and chatted the young ladies, and I noticed, too, that my comrade was very willing for me to take the first turn in the house, although he acknowledged he was as hungry as a wolf. I was very much in love with one of the young ladies of the house, and I thought that she reciprocated. When I walked into the house my best girl met me at the door and took me into the parlor. I asked the question, ‘Where are your sisters?’ She said they had gone to a neighbor’s to stay all night. I was pleased with that, for, as my comrade’s best girl was gone, he would not object to standing guard all the time.

‘Now, Ben,’ said my lady love, ‘I have been looking for you to drop in to night, and I have ready the nicest supper I could prepare; so just give me those cumbersome pistols that you may eat with some pleasure.’

I had left my saber in the saddle. ‘No, I thank you Miss Nannie. I cannot part with my pistols: there are too many yanks around here.’ But her bright eyes and lovely smiles disarmed me. She just wanted ‘to have the honor of holding them’ while I ate my supper, but she slipped my pistols in a sideboard drawer and turned the key on them.

As I finished a good supper two blue coats opened a door on one side of me, and two entered by another door behind me, and all four of them leveled their pistols at me and commanded me to surrender. To make the matter more real, my girl threw herself on her knees at my feet, put up her hands to the Yankees, and begged piteously for them not to shoot me, and one of the bluecoats said, ‘Well, Miss, for your sake we will not shoot him, but you must be responsible for his good behavior while we eat our supper.’ Then one of them said: ‘Your arms, sir, quick!’

One of them leveled a pistol at me and said: ‘No fooling now, Johnny; give up your arms.’ And then Miss Nannie said: ‘O Mr. Yankee, please do not shoot him! I will get his arms for you.’ And off to the sideboard she flew to get my arms. During this stage performance my comrade stood on the outside on the gallery looking through the window. I saw that he was shaking his sides with laughter, and in a second it occurred to me that I was not being taken prisoner by real Yankees; so I made a break for him, running over the Yankees; but he knew what was coming, and jumped off the gallery, and hid. By the time I got back to the dining room the Yankees had disappeared, and my best girl met me with a smile and said: ‘Forgive me, Ben; the girls forced me into this.’ I told her she had better take to the stage, for it was the best ‘forced’ performance I had ever witnessed. The Yankees were her sisters and a young lady neighbor, who had dressed themselves up in Yankee uniforms and laid a trap to capture me. I very coolly told my best girl that she could have made the capture without any assistance whatsoever.

There is but one of those girls living to-day, and my comrade too has crossed over the river, but many persons yet living in Page Valley remember it well, for it was many a long day before I heard the last of it. The boys used to try to tease me about the matter. I would turn them away with the remark that I would not give a cent for a soldier who would not surrender to four pretty girls.

On a more somber note, a year before writing this recollection, Guice had submitted a query to the same magazine requesting to hear from another former comrade from the Page County company. Isaac A. “Ike” Gaines, was however, like Guice, from a Louisiana Infantry regiment, perhaps even Guice’s old company, and had enlisted with Guice in Luray.

In September 1865, on my way to my home in Tensas Parish, La., from the Army of Northern Virginia, I parted on the wharf at Memphis, Tenn., from my old comrade, Ike Gaines . . . and since then have never heard a word from him. I have written letters of inquiry to several newspapers, but to no effect, and now write this to you with the hopes that some one will see it that knows or knew him, and tell me of his whereabouts or of his fate. It would afford me much pleasure to hear from him, as we went through many hard struggles and trials together.

A detailed postwar roster by Page County Confederate veterans stated that Gaines may have had the surname “Gainous” and had, in fact, served with a Louisiana Infantry regiment prior to his time with the Page County unit. Sadly, the same source of information on Gainous also revealed the possible reason why Guice had not been able to reach his old comrade. Apparently, after his release from the wharf at Memphis, Gainous “on [his] way home was killed by Yankees.”

A postwar resident of Natchez and Woodville, Mississippi, there is no indication that Guice ever learned the fate of his old comrade. A member of Camp No. 20, United Confederate Veterans in Woodville, Mississippi, Guice died on October 6, 1922 in Natchez, Mississippi.

This article, written by Robert H. Moore, II for his “Heritage and Heraldry” column, originally appeared in a November 2002 issue of the Page News & Courier (Luray, Va.).

In 1911, while many a local Confederate began to recount war experiences, William H. Price made his own contribution (in a letter dated January 21). A son of Elijah Price and Christina Decker, William was born ca. 1843. William’s oldest brother, Joseph Thomas Price, enlisted in Company K, Tenth Virginia Infantry in March 1862. William enlisted just over a month later, within days of the arrival of Union soldiers in Page, and as he indicated, as a substitute for Reuben Aleshire. Price began his account…

Been Scared Nearly to Death Three Times!

I’ve been scared three times in my life. First, in ’59. My father and I were at Castleman’s Ferry unloading a boat load of lumber. Two men cam riding up the river and told us the Abolitionists and negroes were killing men, women and children as they came, – and that scare me nearly to death. I told my father to act in a hurry and get the lumber off, and go back home. We hadn’t gone very far before other men on horseback overtook us saying: ‘Have you heard the news? The Abolitionists and negroes have broken out, and are killing men, women and children as they go.’ We didn’t get any more news till we reached Front Royal. There we heard that they had captured john Brown and a portion of his followers.

In ’62, the first time I went on picket during the civil war, under Lieutenant Grayson, they put me on picket in a swamp below Culpeper Court House. My orders were to shoot the first man that came to my post, but instead of doing that the noise from the little varmints was like about twenty-five cavalry men coming, and that was the second time I was scared. So I left and sneaked back to the reserve. Then I heard the reserve say: ‘Get up, boys, we’ve got to relieve Billy Price now.’ I slipped on back to my post and when they came up I halted them. They gave the countersign and I was relieved and went back to the reserve.

The next move was on a march to Elk Run church. Then we went to Culpeper to take the train for Elk Run.

When we went to get on the train, William Skelton, Noah Skelton, Joel Decker, Tom Lucas and myself concluded to come home to spend Easter. This was in ’62.

The First Time the Yankees Came into Page County

When we reached Luray we were told that Dr. Miller and Joe Wheat had gone over on the Massanutton mountain to see if the Yankees were coming and hadn’t got back. So, we came on home, but when Joel Decker got to the White House the Yankees were there and captured him. I was so anxious to be a soldier that I substituted for Mr. Reuben Aleshire for one year and nine months for one thousand dollars, to be paid in gold or silver after the war.

On Easter Joel Decker and myself were going out to see our ‘best girls.’ This was at Tommy Higgs’, at Leaksville. When I stopped on the pike at Hamburg, three Yankees came galloping towards me and captured me. I started to run, but they soon overtook me, and asked me what I ran for. I told them I thought it was Jordan’s Cavalry coming, and they some times run over boys. They said they were not Jordan’s Cavalry, but were Yanks, and that I could go with them. Then they wanted to know who I was, and if I belonged to the rebel army. I told them no, that I was going to see my cousin, Joel Decker, who I had heard had just come home from the army. ‘Then,’ they said, ‘ you won’t see him, for we captured him last night, and sent him across the hill this morning,’ signifying the Massanutton. They took me on to headquarters, which were at the ‘White House.’ They asked me many questions, and I told them all I have said above. They asked me if I belonged to the rebel army, and I said no! Just then Mrs. Bettie Brubaker came through the room. They asked her if she knew me and she said she did. They then asked her whether she knew if I had been in the army or not. She said – yes that I had substituted for her cousin, Reuben Aleshire, and went in his place.

My Third Scare

But I still denied it, and told them they wanted me to go, but I refused. This was after Mrs. Brubaker had left the room. (I denied in her presence.) They said they would send me over to Mount Jackson, then headquarters, as a prisoner, and there I could see my cousin. I wore a brand new rebel suit, and they asked where I got it. I told them that my sister had made it and gave it to me as many boys had suits of that kind.

It was a very rainy time, and they told the picket to go back to his company, that they would attend to me now. One of them turned round on his chair and dozed off to sleep. The other one lay down on the floor and went to sleep. Then I got up and walked out to the pump and got a drink of water. As they were still asleep, I walked out to the gate at the road. I stood there a little while and still they didn’t wake up! I walked up the river side to the old toll house where my uncle and aunt live, and where Joel Decker made his home. When I opened the door the Yankees were so thick as fleas in there! My aunt said: ‘Laws, help my soul, Bill! When did you get back!’ My answer was: ‘I haven’t gone any place yet!’ and I came out of the pike toward my house.

Wanted to Know Where I’d Been and Told Me Where I was to Go.

When I got on top of White House hill, I wouldn’t have had any trouble to pass the pickets had the one who had captured me been on duty. They halted me and asked me where I was going. I told them I was going home. I live at the time at the Reuben Ruffner place on the river, now owned by Mr. D.S. Hite. They told me to come to the post. They then asked me where I’d been, and I told them I’d been to headquarters down at the river, and that the Colonel had told me to go home. They then called for my pass from the Colonel, and I told them I had none. Then they said they had orders to let no one pass out or in without a pass from headquarters. Then they said they’d send a man back with me to headquarters. We didn’t go very far before the Colonel called us back and told me to go home and stay close around there, with that rebel suit on!

If You Never Saw a Boy Run, You Should Have Seen Me!

When I reached the mill road at the top of the White House hill, if you never saw a boy run, you just ought to have been there to see me run! … I went to Tom Lucas, my fellow soldier, and told him that we’d have to get away from here. As the Yankees were here we’d see no Easter and that they had already captured Joel Decker. We took shelter where Lester Ruffner now lives. We stayed there till two o’clock next morning and piloted us to Lee Lucas above Honey Run, next to the Ridge. From there we joined our command at Elk Run church, in Rockingham county.

Then we came in contact with our army line and were captured by our pickets and taken to our headquarters. The officer asked us if we had a pass giving us permission to leave the army, and I told him, Yes.’ Then he said, ‘Let’s see your pass.’ I told him that II had changed my pants and left my pass at home in my other pants pocket. He turned to his desk and wrote a few lines and handed it to the picket to give to the captain of our company. We came back to the Captain’s tent, but the Captain was out of his tent. We waited a while for him to come back. The boys wouldn’t tell where he was. I told the picket to give me the paper and I’d hand it to the captain when he came. He said all right and gave it to me. I said “It said if these men left without permission punish them severely.’ These were the words on the note. And that was the last of it.


Our next move was to McDowell and there we had a battle. It was at the battle that Colonel Gibbons was killed.

Then we moved through Page county, and through Luray, and by Front Royal down below Charlestown. At Harpers Ferry the federals got reinforcements. General Jackson fell back up the Shenandoah Valley with Banks after us up the Page Valley and Shields up the Shenandoah. Banks’ intention was to cut Jackson off at New Market, crossing at the White House bridge. I was put on picket at Valley View Springs to watch the Yankees coming from Page. Three cavalrymen (rebel) rode up and said the bridge was burned and the federals couldn’t cross. Then we had orders to march up the Shenandoah Valley towards Port Republic. Shields was fighting our rear all the white. We marched on to Port Republic, but it seems that Shield stopped than our army stopped, and went into camp. We were fixing for inspection of arms. At this point it seems that our pickets were captured and Fremont was moving to Port Republic bridge to cut Jackson off.

Here we received orders to fall in ranks and load by detail. Jackson threw his army across the river, burned the bridge and whipped Fremont. Then threw his army back into the mountain. Here Banks and Shields both lost him. Jackson move to Gordonsville and took the train for Richmond. Landing at Richmond with his army he moved down near the Seven Pines. Here the first Federal soldier we saw state that their officers had read letters to them that morning stating that Jackson would not be there, for Banks and Shields were giving him the devil in the other Valley. After a severe battle at Richmond the federals fell back on the James River. [It’s not clear why, but for some reason, William Price mentions nothing about being among the wounded at the Battle of Cedar Mountain on August 9, 1862. Because of the wound, he did not return to the ranks until January 1863.]


My next engagement was at Chancellorsville. We started from Skinker’s Neck, our winter quarters. One of the grandest flank movements ever made by Jackson, was made by Jackson, was made here, May 2, 1863. He got clear around the federal army when the signal gun was fired we were right on their reserve line,. Captain D.C. Grayson has been writing about the Chancellorsville battle and others, and I reckon it was to much for him to say for old Company K, that at one shot when the signal was fired the federal troops ran and left all their arms stacked in the woods where our company passé through. That was a merry time for us.

Rode on His Brother’s Coffin

Now on the third was the sad time with me. This was Sunday morning May the 3rd. Here my brother J. Thomas Price was mortally wounded at ten o’clock and died at ten the following night at the old Wilderness Tavern at Chancellorsville. Here I and another soldier carried him. Then I wrote home to my father to come after him. Father and Tommy Higgs came after him with a team. I asked for a furlough to come home and see him buried, but they refused, as they were expecting a battle at any time. So, I told Captain Grayson that I was going to come anyway. He said, ‘Billy try it if you will, but the conscript officers will give you trouble.’

I have often heard people say what they would do in time of war – but they have only got to do as the Government says. In every little town conscript officers were place to catch soldiers. While passing through these towns I would lie on tip of the case in the wagon and cover up with a blanket – all except my feet. The conscript officers would halt us in every town, and inquire what we were hauling, and they told him ‘a corpse,’ – and they’d say, ‘a corpse!’ and they’d say, ‘pass on!’ So, that’s the way I got home to see my brother buried!

William H. Price was listed as absent sick after June 11, 1863 and was discharged on November 15, 1863 for epilepsy. At least five children came from his marriage to Jenetta Strickler (married in 1868). William died just over four years after writing this memoir.

It seems that the prevailing thought about Confederate deserters in the central Shenandoah Valley is that they simply hid in the mountains. However, this wasn’t always the case. In fact, more and more evidence is being found that shows that there may have been just as many who deserted and went North, where they would set up housekeeping as well as they could and make a living working as laborers on the lands of farmers there. So far, of those identified from Page County as having done this, most returned to the county after the war, while a smaller number remained or moved West.

In a letter written to the Page News & Courier in March 1926, Jacob H. Coffman told the story of how he and his father helped the families of seven deserters in going North to join with the former soldiers who had gone there before them. As the story reveals, a couple of these deserters were Jacob Coffman’s brothers; another was listed as Calvin H. Cave. Most, it seems, were from Marksville District #2 and it also appears that most, if not all seven, were from the “Page Grays” of Company H, 33rd Virginia Infantry.

An Experience In ‘Dixie’

I think it was in the winter of 1863 that two of my brothers [Cumberland George Coffman and Reuben Yancey Coffman] who belonged to Co. H, 33rd Va. volunteers with five others deserted the Southern Army to make their way north I only know one of the other five who was Calvin Cave. I remember that they came home a few days before leaving for the north, and the ‘conscript officers,’ as we called them were ??ing them up and the two brothers were in the barn about 400 yards from the house when they noticed two men ride up to the house and stop and that was all the tip they needed to flee. They had made ready for an emergency of this kind by taking off two boards on the back side of the barn and only a few leaps and they were in the woods. They had set the day, or night rather, when they would go with the other five companions, as well as I remember. It was only the next night after they left the barn that I went with my father after dark to take clothing and food to a pre-arranged place in the woods not far from the David Judy place near Stanley. The place was a thick patch of ivy where they were. It was understood that we should whistle like the partridge, which we did, but very low, and they answered thus. Getting the clothing and provisions we had for them, they struck out for a place in or near Printztown where they were to meet, which they did this completing all arrangements for the final move. They kept to the Blue Ridge as near as possible walking by night and resting by day. I think they said they were seven days getting to Hagerstown but once there were safe.

Down the Valley in ‘64

Now, it had been previously arranged for my father to leave on April 10th, 1864, with the brothers’ two wives and children (each of them having two) for Martinsburg and he stated on time, I going with them, April 10th fell on Sunday and there had been much rain and getting a late start we got no farther than the White House that day and Monday morning we could not cross the river which we had to do by ferryboat. We stayed until next day when we were taken over. We had a fine horse but he was blind and did not belong to us. The wagon was of the old bowl type and tent with not a spring to it.

The first night after leaving the White House we stopped with a family one mile below Mt. Jackson.

The next day we looked for trouble as we had to make some excuse to get through the Southern pickets located near Woodstock. Well, they called on us to ‘Halt’ and wanted to know our destination. We told them we were only visiting friends in Strasburg. They told us to go on but our real trouble came on arriving in Strasburg. Getting there just at dark we got permission to stay over night at a place just at the edge of town, where we found shelter for the horse, also and we thought we had such a nice stopping place.

Hot Reception at Strasburg

We felt sure we had permission from the lady of the house, but soon other feet were heard to patter on the floor and fire seemed almost to fly from her snapply eyes as she said to her daughter, ‘Who in the h—l is all this crowd, you have here;’ The daughter tried to explain matters but she said, ‘Not a d—n bit will they stay here.’ So, we had to pack up and move on. We found a place a mile ahead where we stayed over night but the people were not a bit kind to us, seeing we were refugees.

Crossing into the Yankee Lines

Our next point of interest to make was Winchester, some 15 or 18 miles north. Getting an early start we made for Winchester. We could not travel fast on account of the women and children and there was but little room in the wagon, it being taken up with boxes of provisions and baggage, horse-feed, &c. The horse was not trained to work with line and there wax in the gang three boys of us all near the same age, about thirteen years, who would alternate in riding the horse and driving but with all our disadvantages we were all happy singing war songs, as we went down the Valley pike, one of which I remember was ‘Maryland, My Maryland.’

We knew there was another obstacle we would have to meet some time that day – that was the northern picket line, although we felt sure they would vie us a royal welcome, which they did. It was near sundown when we were looking down on Winchester, our objective point. Just outside town we met an old man in an open buggy. Father asked him whom he could send us to that would give us shelter for the night, and he told us where to go and we should tell them that Mr. Gining sent us there. He said, ‘Now can you remember the name?’ I said ‘Yes, we will just think of jinny,’ and father scolded me for it. The people’s name was Longacker. We had lodging and nice treatment. It was here we got our tips for Martinsburg.

We were told on reaching Martinsburg where to go and ask for a man by the name of Tabler. But I must not get ahead of my story for it is 20 miles or so from Winchester to Martinsburg, and we did not make it in one day, making about half the distance and stopping all night at a farm house near the poke. Their name was Kiter. We boys helped them to churn next morning for buttermilk, and I think yet it was about the best contract I ever made for I had nothing to lose and now for the last lap.

We Make Martinsburg

We arrived in Martinsburg O.K. and found the Mr. Tabler, who sent us to a vacant farm house not far out of the town. Just as we got out of the town and turned to the let we crossed a dry bridge over the B. & O. R.R. and a little further we crossed a much swollen stream called the ‘Opequon’ pronounced I think ‘Opkon.’ Again turning to the left and keeping close to the stream , for say a ¼ mile, we came to a fine house in a thick cluster of cedar trees. Here we soon had the fires going in the old time fire-places. This was a fine place, good farm, large barn and all necessary out-buildings. I think the farm was owned either by Mr. Tabler or Longacker. They wanted my father to stay there and work the farm which he would have done if he had had the rest of the family there.

Now comes the most important part our trip which was to go back to town and look for the two Coffman brothers, the sole object of the journey, but they were not on hand and it began to rain hard and it was important that we find them soon as the bottom of our ‘grub’ box was in sight and I do not think there was 50 cents in the bunch from start to finish. I know I had not a nickel for I went to a store and offered to trade the storekeeper a very common steel watch chain for an orange but the smile he put up indicated there was no deal. I had not seen an orange during the war.

In regard to meeting the two brothers we began to think there had been some misunderstanding, until just at this time, we met Mr. Calvin Cave, one of the seven that went North with them. I think he gave the information and the fare for them to go on to Hagerstown which they did and met their husbands there and from there they went to Chester County, Pa. where they had been working on the farm. Some time after the war their wives put up a howl, ‘Carry me back to old Virginia.’

It was here on the street of Martinsburg under an umbrella that the afore-said Calvin H. Cave gave my father a message to take to this fiancé then Miss Julia Lucas, daughter of the late Levi Lucas. I well remember the day father delivered the message. She after the war became the wife of Mr. Cave and had quite a family of much respected children, nearly all still living.

Homeward Bound

And now for the home run. We had gotten only a half mile or so out of town when several men on horses came galloping up and took our horse and bridle and began to talk rough to us like Joseph did to his brothers in Egypt. They accused us of running the blockade and smuggling goods through the lines, but searching the wagon and finding only horse feed. They allowed us to pass on. We made the trip home in much less time than we did going. While we had provided food for the trip, a place of shelter for the sights ahead was a game of chance. However, we found no trouble to securing a suitable place. Both the Union and Confederate pickets allowed us to go through unmolested and so all went well until we got to Alma 3 ½ miles of home when the monkey wrench was thrown in the machinery, as the night before a picket line had been placed all along the New Market and Gordonsville pike, in stations only a few hundred yards apart. We were stopped as soon as we got in Alma and questioned. They said they would have to hold us so we considered ourselves fast.

Trouble 2 Miles from Home

Old Mr. Rodgers was living there at the time, so father asked him to speak a word for him. The picket then asked Rodgers if he knew us. He said he did and that my father was a peaceable man and after pausing a few minutes he told us to go. This was about sundown and to our agreeable surprise we found not a picket on the pike. All had been called in a few hours before. Getting home we had supper, and the horse cared for we took blankets and went and camped in the woods that night as we thought it safer. Next morning we returned the horse to the owner, the late Samuel Varner, and the wagon to its owner, the late Jacob Brubaker.

Now, in conclusion, I will say the other two boys with us, one was the late Wm. D. Knight, of Stanley, and the other was A.J. Jenkins, who was born and partly raised at what is now Forestdale, about a mile east of Mauck, Page Co., Va. This was a very bright boy. He in some way got to Baltimore where he got a position with the firm of Cushing, Bailey & Co. I think they were wholesale stationers. It was there that elevation awaited him and promotion came in rapid succession until he became a clerk, a position he held until old king consumption laid the hand of fate on him, that meant eternity. He never married. He corresponded with me for many years. In his summer vacations visits to Page he would call to see me. He always made his stopping place at the Reuben Long farm on the Hawksbill where he had an aunt living, who was Lucinda Jenkins. This is all written from memory as I kept no diary but for the truth of it I will guarantee it all wool and a yard wide.

Now when I tell you I worked on the Joseph Grove farm at 20 cents a day to pay for my education you will certainly excuse the grammar I am using in the make up of this letter.

As an interesting sidebar about this Coffman family, over a year before this journey, they had taken care of an ailing soldier from Alabama – William A. Moore – who stayed with the family for seven months before he headed back and rejoining the army in time for the Battle of Chancellorsville. Despite the pleasant respite from war with the Coffmans, Moore was later killed in action.

*At the opening of the Civil War, Jacob H. Coffman saw several brothers enlist in local units, seemingly without hesitation. Cumberland George Coffman and Reuben Yancey Coffman enlisted in the “Page Grays” (later designated as Co. H, 33rd Va. Infantry) in June 1861. Both of these men were frequently listed as AWOL. Cumberland was captured at Gettysburg and exchanged in time to make it back to the ranks by November 1863. However, both deserted on February 4, 1864. James Harvey Coffman enlisted in the “Page Volunteers” (later designated as Co. K, 10th Va. Inf.) on June 2, 1861, was detailed as a drover, but was AWOL by March 1864. Isaac F. Coffman was enrolled in (possibly conscripted) Capt. Thomas Keyser’s Boy Company (boys between the ages of 17 and 18 ) of Page County Reserves on May 28, 1864.

 **Calvin H. Cave is listed in the service records as having deserted in May 1862.

This micro-blog will serve as a study area for the history of Page County’s Confederate soldiers. I will present information about their service (whether willful or reluctant), their memories of the war, the way that the veterans looked upon each other, and the way that we look back at them. It is my idea of Confederate remembrance… remembering AND understanding realistically, honestly… and more importantly, “responsibly.” I look forward to the site serving as a source of education and understanding.

I’ll be posting here from time to time. It may be weekly or more often.