The Clopton Chronicles
A Project of the Clopton Family Genealogical
Society
LEST WE FORGET
Regarding
Captain William Latane’
By Miles George Turpin,[1]
[email protected]
A little child strewed roses
on the bier -
Pale roses, not more stainless
than his soul,
Nor yet more fragrant than his
life sincere,
That blossomed with good
actions - brief but whole.
The aged matron and the
faithful slave
“Let’s put the war behind us.” That was the battle cry which echoed
throughout the postwar United States.
Everyone had his own theory about how to do that. In Richmond, the Federal
Military Authority dictated a reconstruction policy that was meant to rebuild
the south in the image of the north. In
Washington, radical abolitionists wanted to punish and humble the south. Before he was assassinated, President
Lincoln had said he’d prefer to “Let ‘em up easy.” General Lee tried hard in his own way to move forward, taking on
the Presidency of Washington University.
He felt that through hard work, education and a forgiving spirit, the
country might mend itself.
Carpetbaggers undoubtedly felt the south might be a better place if the
old families were robbed of their wealth and replaced by a new northern
aristocracy of men like themselves.
One might think that soldiers who had fought each
other so desperately might never be reconciled. And certainly there were men who felt that way. But most men from both sides honored the
courage and patriotism of their former foes.
In the end, it was the women who perhaps had the hardest time moving
forward. Southern women in particular had experienced as many hardships as
their men. They had lost husbands, brothers, fathers, cousins, and friends
forever. There was a fierce
determination on the part of many southern ladies to hold on to the memory of
the lost cause. This was not a selfish
longing for the old days of plenty. It
was an unwillingness to let go of the memories of loved ones who were left
behind at places like Gettysburg, Shiloh and Fredericksburg. The memories of
their lost loved ones were inextricably tied together with the remembrance of
the lost cause.
And so it was in our family. Passed down to me some 120 years after the
fact was a little box of keepsakes.
They belonged to my great, great grandmother, Susan Latané Clopton.[2]
I feel they attest to her firm desire not to forget those that were gone.
In the box were a tintype and a daguerrotype of my
great, great grandmother’s half brother, A.W. Clopton. He served in the cavalry
with J.E.B. Stuart and Fitz Lee. He
died of typhoid fever in 1864. There was
a diary as well. As I read through it, there were flowery poems that really bored
me. And there were obituaries that
helped fill in the family tree. There
was even a family tree for some
relatives named Latané.
Right in the middle of the diary was a story, copied
from the “Southern literary Messenger” about a man named Captain William
Latané. There was an old Confederate
twenty dollar bill and a Bank of Richmond sixty cent note tucked in there with
this story that Susan Latané Clopton had copied down.
After a little research, I realized that this man,
Captain William Latané, was a cousin of Susan’s mother, Anne Waring
Latané. I also realized, from looking
at the story and the money, that Susan wanted to remember him, and the cause he
fought for.
William Latané, Anne’s cousin, the handsome Captain
Latané, was one of the early casualties of the War. While his death caused the family much grief, his passing meant
not a jot to the success or failure of the conflict, but the War was young and
Southern publications played his demise for all it was worth. And it worked. So many other mothers and sisters and cousins had already lost
loved ones. And they needed to imagine
that they died with dignity and heroism and without a lot of pain. The
description of Captain Latané’s demise helped ease their emotional burdens. The
fair Latané became the poster boy for The Cause. He died during an encounter
with Northern troops while participating in Jeb Stuart’s legendary Ride Around
McClellan.
The following is the official account of Captain
Latané’s death:
The next day, June 13, 1862 - Friday the thirteenth -
the column took an easterly heading through Hanover Court House and then
southeast on the road to Old Church, and there was no more talk of joining
Stonewall Jackson. They were greeted
warmly by the citizens along the road, who had not seen Confederate uniforms
since General Branch was routed out of
Hanover Court House in May. The few
Federal outposts they encountered were easily scattered or overrun and
captured. All were cavalry pickets;
clearly the Yankees had not extended their lines this far north. Totopotomoy Creek might have posed a
barrier, but to Stuart's relief the bridge was intact and under defended.
A mile or so beyond the creek they encountered a Yankee
picket post that refused to give way without a fight. An eyewitness, W. T. Robins, Colonel, C.S.A., wrote: "Captain William Latané of the 9th
Virginia, was directed to move forward
and clear the road. He moved up the
hill at a trot, and when in sight of the enemy in the road gave the command to
charge, and with a yell the men rushed forward. At the top of the hill, simultaneously with Latané's order to
charge, a company of Federal cavalry, deployed as skirmishers in the woods on
the right of the road, were stampeded, and rushed back into the woods to make
good their retreat to their friends.
The head of Latané's squadron, then just fairly up the hill, was in the
line of their retreat and was separated from the rest of the squadron, cut off
by the rush of the Federals, and borne along with them up the road toward the
enemy." There was a sharp clash of
horsemen.
“As if in a tournament, the respective commanders faced
off in individual combat, Captain Latane against Captain William (B.) Royall of
the 5th United States. Latane wounded his
foe with a saber thrust, but Royall was better armed and killed the Virginian
with two pistol shots."
Although reports confirm the Yankees bravely fought, the Federal lines eventually broke and then ran. "But Captain Latané lay mortally wounded, and as the men of his company saw him lying bloody before them, many a bearded face was wet with tears.”[3]
Killed in Hanover County, his body was taken to a
nearby plantation and readers throughout the Confederacy swooned over the
account of his burial.[4]
Lieutenant John Latané carried his brother's dead body
to Mrs. Brockenborough's plantation an hour or two after his death. On this sad and lonely errand he met a party
of Yankees, who followed him to Mrs. Brockenborough’s, and stopping there told
him that as soon as he placed his brother's body in friendly hands he must
surrender himself a prisoner. Mrs.
Brockenborough sent for an Episcopal clergyman to perform the funeral
ceremonies, but the enemy would not let him pass.
Then,
with a few other ladies, a fair-haired little girl, whose apron was filled with
white flowers, and a few faithful slaves, who stood reverently near, a pious
Virginia matron read the solemn and beautiful burial service over the cold,
still form of one of the noblest gentlemen and most intrepid officers of the
Confederate army. She watched the sods
heaped on the coffin lid, then sinking on her knees in sight and hearing of the
foe, she committed his soul's welfare and the stricken hearts he had left
behind him to the mercy of the All Father."
The fate of the lamented Latané was further immortalized in verse by J. R. Thompson,[5] of Virginia.
The
combat raged not long, but ours the day;
And
though the hosts had compassed us around
Our
little band rode proudly on its way,
Leaving one
gallant comrade glory-crowned,
Unburied
on the field he died to gain,
Single of
all his men amid the hostile slain.
One
moment on the battle's edge he stood,
Hope's
halo like a helmet round his hair -
The next
beheld him dabbled in his blood,
Prostrate
in death, and yet in death how fair!
Even thus
he passed through the red gate of strife,
From
earthly crowns and palms to an immortal life.
A brother
bore his body from the field,
And gave
it unto strangers' hands that closed
The calm
blue eyes, on earth forever sealed,
And
tenderly the slender limbs composed:
Strangers,
yet sisters, who with Mary's love,
Sat by
the open tomb, and weeping looked above.
A little
child strewed roses on the bier -
Pale
roses, not more stainless than his soul,
Nor yet
more fragrant than his life sincere,
That
blossomed with good actions - brief but whole.
The aged
matron and the faithful slave
Approached
with lowly feet the hero's lowly grave.
No man of
God might say the burial rite
Above the
'rebel,' - thus declared the foe
That
blanched before him in the deadly fight,
But
woman's voice in accents soft and low
Trembling
with pity, touched with pathos, read
O'er his
hallowed dust the ritual for the dead.
"Tis
sown in weakness, it is raised in power,"
Softly
the promise floated on the air,
And the
sweet breathings of the sunset hour
Came back
responsive to the mourner's prayer.
Gently
they laid him underneath the sod,
And left
him with his fame, his country, and his God.
Let us
not weep for him whose deeds endure;
So young,
so brave, so beautiful, he died
As he had
wished to die; - the past is sure,
Whatever
yet of sorrow may betide
Those who
still linger on the stormy shore,
Change
cannot harm him now, nor fortune touch him more.
And when
Virginia, leaning on her spear,
Victrix et vincere, the
conflict done,
Shall
raise her mailed hand to wipe the tear
That
starts as she recalls each martyred son,
No
prouder memory her breast shall sway
Than
thine, our early lost, lamented Latane.
The
historical painter, William D. Washington, committed the funeral scene of the
young martyr to canvas and prints of his work hung in Southern parlors for many
years. As Death became a frequent
visitor families gazed upon the work and found comfort as they imagined the
bodies of their beautiful boys laid to rest in just such a lovely and graceful
manner.[6]
TABLE
OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS BIBLIOGRAPHY
Comments? Questions?
Corrections?
Contact [email protected]
[1]
Lest We Forget is an excerpt
from The Clopton Chronicles, the
Ancestors and Descendants of Sir Thomas Clopton, Knight
& Dame Katherine Mylde,
and is the
property of the Clopton Family Genealogical Society which holds the copyright
on this material. Permission is granted
to quote or reprint articles for noncommercial use provided credit is given to
the CFGS and to the author. Prior
written permission must be obtained from the Society for commercial use.
Miles George Turpin is a Founding Member of the
Clopton Family Genealogical Society & Clopton Family Archives. He serves on the Society’s Editorial
Advisory Board. He is the
g-g-g-grandson of Edward Andrew Jackson Clopton and his second wife, Anne
Waring Latane.’
Thanks to Clopton descendants Suellen (Clopton)
DeLoach Blanton, Martine Brooks Evans; and, William Edward Waters.
[3]
Stephen W. Sears, To the Gates of
Richmond, The Peninsula Campaign, Ticknor & Fields, New York, 1992, p.
169. A brief mention of Latane's death
is also found in Richard Wheeler’s, Sword
Over Richmond, An Eyewitness History of McClellan’s Peninsula Campaign, Harper
& Row, New York, 1986.
[4]
Southern Literary Messenger, July
1862, quoted from a private letter.
[5]
Southern Literary Messenger, July
1862. Alfred Lord Tennyson called this
poem the only verse of lasting value to come out of the Civil War.
[6]
A copy of this print is in the Clopton Family Archives courtesy of Miles George
Turpin. See Emily J. Salmon, "The Burial of Latané: Symbol of the Lost Cause," Virginia Cavalcade, 28 (Winter 1979). Anne’s other cousin, Lieutenant John Latané was taken prisoner at
the Brockenbrough’s plantation. Anne’s brother, Captain John Lafayette
Latané, survived Pickett’s Charge, but was captured at Gettysburg and held
prisoner at Johnson’s Island - one of the most infamous Yankee prisons.