Rebel Ladies Employ Ingenuity
To Hide Their Nation’s Flag
The Tale Of Manchester’s Rebel Flag
Years ago I purchased an antique volume called The Pictorial Book Of Anecdotes And Incidents Of The Rebellion, published here in St. Louis by an F. H. Mason in 1889 and written by a Frazar Kirkland. It is a collection of short anecdotal stories during the Civil War taken from all parts of the country.
As Civil War enthusiasts and scholars will tell you, information from incidents West of the Mississippi (or Trans-Mississippi theater) are harder to come by. So finding a volume printed in St. Louis gave me hope of perhaps uncovering some small incident that would offer fresh perspective on that period of our regional history.
What I found was a short, but intriguing story of rebel women in St. Louis County and their efforts to secret a giant rebel flag from a search party of soldiers sent to capture this symbol of defiance.
Unfortunately none of the stories, including this one, attributed the source of the material. In a somewhat typical Victorian manner, the volume is a jumbled collection that darts back and forth in time, grouping stories around general topics. In the preface, the author says the stories came from official records, personal remembrances, letters and newspaper stories he collected over a five year period of time. Newspapers of the time were particularly notorious for inaccuracy and memories can grow faulty with time.
Could this 154 year old story stand up to modern scrutiny? I set out to put it to the test. But first, here is the story as it appears in the book:
Hiding The Flag - Female Artifice
The Federal commander at camp Herron, Missouri, having learned that a certain very fine secession flag that waved defiantly from a flagstaff in the village of Manchester, twenty miles distant from the camp, (until the success of the Union forces caused its supporters to conclude that, for the present, “discretion would be the better part of valor,”) was still very carefully preserved, its possessors boasting that they would soon be enabled to re-hoist it; determined upon its summary capture.
On the 15th of November, 1861, First Lieutenant Bull, of Company C, Ninth Iowa regiment was directed to take charge of this little expedition, and to detail fifteen good men for the purpose, which detail the Lieutenant made from Company C.
They left camp by cars at half-past five o-clock in the afternoon, landing at Merrimac, three miles from Manchester, proceeding from thence to Manchester on foot, and surrounded the house of Squire B., who had been foremost in the secession movement of that strong secession town, and was reported to be in possession of the flag in question.
But the ‘Squire protested against the imputation, declaring that the flag was not in his possession, and that he knew not of its whereabouts. His lady acknowledged that she had for a time kept it secreted in a box in the garden, but as it was likely to become injured, she took it out, dried it in the sun, when it was taken away by some ladies who lived a long distance in the country, whose names she refused to give. Finally, after a thorough but fruitless search of the house, after the Lieutenant had put her husband under arrest. And he was started off to head-quarters, the lady, probably hoping it would save her husband, acknowledged that it was taken by a Mrs. S., who resided a mile and a half in the country, - not such a terribly long distance, after all. Her husband was then sent to Merrimac, escorted by four soldiers, and the remainder, conducted by the gallant Lieutenant, started to visit the residence of Mrs. S., in search of the flag.
The distance to the lady’s residence was soon traveled, the house surrounded, and the flag demanded of Mrs. S., who proved to be a very intelligent lady, and had around her quite an interesting family. The lady replied to the demand, that she would like to see the person who stated that she took the flag from Esquire B –‘s; that as to its whereabouts she had nothing to say; that the Lieutenant could search her house, and if he could find any thing that looked like a flag, he was welcome to it. Accordingly, a thorough search was made, but no flag was to be found. The lady then thanked the officer for the gentlemanly manner in which the search had been conducted, and added that she trusted he was satisfied. He replied that he was quite satisfied that she had the flag, and that it would have been far better for her to have yielded it; but as she did not, as unpleasant as the task was, he would arrest her and take her to head-quarters at Pacific City.
Two men were then dispatched for a carriage with which to convey the lady to Merrimac, and from thence the lady was informed that she would be sent by railroad. She accordingly made preparation to go, but after an hour had elapsed in waiting for the carriage, the lady again demanded the name of the informants, and when told that it was Mrs. B., and that Esquire B. was already in custody, she then asked whether any indignity would have been offered to her had the flag been found in her possession. To this the courteous Lieutenant replied:
“Certainly not, Madam; our object with Esquire B. was his arrest and the capture of the flag; but with you, our object was the flag.”
“Will you pledge your honor,” said she,”that if I surrender the flag I shall not be arrested, nor my family disturbed.”
“You will not be arrested, nor your family disturbed.”
“I wish you to understand, Sir, that no fear of arrest or trouble would ever have made me surrender that flag; but Squire B.’s family induced me to take that flag to save them from trouble, saying that it should be a sacred trust, known only to ourselves, and I consequently surrender it.”
She then went to a bed that had been fruitlessly searched, took from it a quilt, and with the aid of her daughters, proceeded to open the edges of the quilt, and cut the stitches through the body of it, and pulled off the top, when, behold! There lay the mammoth flag next to the cotton, being carefully stitched twice and nearly a half across the quilt. When taken out and spread, it proved to be a magnificent flag, over twenty-one feet in length, and nearly nine feet in width, with fifteen stars to represent the prospective Southern Confederacy.
“Recollect,” said the lady to Lieutenant Bull,” that you did not find it yourself, and when you wish detectives you had better employ ladies.”
She also added that she gave up the flag unwillingly. The daughter remarked that she had slept under it, and that she loved it, and that fifteen stars were not so terribly disunion - in her estimation - after all.
Putting History To The Test
I decided to double check information contained in the story to look for any glaring inconsistencies with official records. There are numerous on-line resources these days to help amateur history sleuths like me. I started with checking the unit history of the 9th Iowa mentioned in the story. Unit histories are available on-line at the civilwararchive.com and are reprinted from A Compendium of the War of the Rebellion by Frederick H. Dyer. If the 9th Iowa wasn’t in the vicinity at the time specified, there would be reason to doubt the entire story.
As it turned out, the 9th Iowa Regiment of Infantry (organized in Dubuque) was exactly where it was suppose to be. They were moved to Franklin County on October 11, 1861to guard the railroad line until January 1862. The incident of our story is said to have taken place on November 15, 1861. Pacific is in Franklin County and local sources confirm there was a Civil War camp there. It was an important railroad facility that Federal forces would be anxious to protect. Camp Herron, would most likely have been named for then Lieutenant Colonel Francis. Jay Herron, commander of the 9th Iowa.
The National Parks Service website was the next one I visited. They maintain an on-line record of every veteran of the Civil War. While the records aren’t detailed on individuals, they are enough to confirm if a particular person did serve in the war. For more in-depth research, our own Kathryn Linnemann Library maintains compiled service records on microfilm.
In this case I wanted to check on the “gallant” Lieutenant Bull. Was he a real officer and member of this unit? As it happens there was a 1st Lieutenant Hiram C. Bull who served in the 9th Iowa and was later promoted to Captain.
That’s three for three...the unit history puts them in the right place at the right time, the name of camp matches the commander of the unit and we’ve identified the Union officer of the story. But what about the physical locations of the story?
We know Pacific was a rail center, so getting on the rail cars for transport was highly likely, especially for an infantry unit without horses. Manchester is approximately the right distance from Pacific, but the story says they left the train at a place called Merrimac (as spelled in the book) and then marched three miles to Manchester.
A map which appeared in Harper’s Weekly on October 19, 1861 (just a month before our story), shows the locations of important rail lines and stations in the region. Right where you would expect to find Pacific, it shows the town of Franklin. The name of the town was changed from Franklin to Pacific in 1859 in honor of the Pacific Railroad. At the time of the Civil War, this line ran from St. Louis to Tipton Missouri. Apparently Harper’s Weekly hadn’t updated their map.
This Civil War era map also shows a place called “Meramec” or perhaps more appropriately Meramec Station. It was the site of an early ferry crossing and later would be platted as the site of Valley Park. From here, Meramec Station Road ran roughly due north to intersect with Manchester Road. It is clearly the station from which one would disembark to reach Manchester. It also fits the distance the military detail is said to have marched from the station to Manchester, approximately three miles.
Everything was falling into place, but the flag itself. The description of the flag didn’t seem to fit the time-line. Did it have too many stars?
The First National Flag of the Confederacy was suppose to have one star for each member State. Missouri and Kentucky were the 12th and 13th States admitted to the Confederacy by an act of the Confederate Congress. But Missouri’s entry wasn’t approved till November 28th and Kentucky’s not till December 10th. A First National Flag existing prior to the date of the story would have had 11 stars. The flag in our story was described twice as bearing fifteen stars.
The answer, as is often the case, came with further research. Most of the surviving examples of First National Flags of the Confederacy are from East of the Mississippi. So general descriptions tended to favor the accepted one star for each State pattern. A survey of those in the Trans-Mississippi theater from this time, however, showed flags tended to have thirteen to fifteen stars. One star was often larger than the others and in the center of a circle of stars. The number of stars on our flag was consistent with surviving examples. It’s large size, 9’ x 21’, was “mammoth”, but not unheard of to demonstrate a communities partisan sympathies and inspire patriotic fervor on both sides.
The description of the Manchester Rebel Flag passed muster.
Every fact mentioned in the story checked out. But who were Esquire B. who was arrested, his wife Mrs. B or Mrs. S. and her daughters? There names had intentionally been left out of the story as a courtesy. Many local histories of this post-War period gloss over the activities of those siding with the secessionists, sometimes mentioning only the “recent unpleasantness”. Consider it part of the good manners of the Victorians, that can drive a historiographer to distraction.
With a little more “detective” work, I believe the location of the two homes can be pinpointed and the identities of these St. Louis County secessionists revealed. There is a recently rediscovered 1869 plat available for St. Louis County. Some good census and title research could help solve some of the remaining mystery of this story.
There is one intriguing Provost record on-line at the Secretary of State’s website. These are the surviving records of what served as the military police and domestic intelligence gathering apparatus of the Federal Government. The document is dated January 23, 1862 (a little over two months from the date of our incident) and states the reasons for the arrest of a William D. Bacon of Manchester for disloyalty.
William Bacon inherited his grandfather’s 700 acre farm in 1849. It was situated on both sides of Henry Avenue and Woodsmill south of Clayton Road and was worked by slaves. The Bacon Log Home (it’s a little too big to call a cabin) is still there at 687 Spring Avenue at Spring Meadows Drive in what is now Ballwin. It is maintained as a local historic site and museum.
Interestingly, “Old” Meramec Station Road is almost in line with the old Bacon farmstead, though the log home is another mile beyond Manchester Road. William was married like the character from our story. His wife’s name was Sarah. The family certainly had “motive” given their strong southern sympathies, but so did others. The strongest circumstantial evidence, however, is the use of the term Squire and Esquire by the writer to describe the gentleman. This could be a clue to denote a member of the “landed gentry” of the time - a sizeable landowner - as opposed to a small farmer, craftsman or merchant.
Perhaps William D. Bacon is Esquire B. or, perhaps he was just another rebel sympathizer in a community our story describes as “a strong secession town”.
Once the identities of these individuals are uncovered that will still leave one mystery unanswered. Who or what was the source of the information for the story? The article itself seems too accurate to have come from a newspaper report of the time. It also doesn’t seem to be from the perspective of just one of the participants.
If I had to venture a guess, I would say it was composed by a later writer with access to an official report of Lieutenant Bull or perhaps testimony collected in the form of letters for a trial. That would help to explain the exacting detail, almost like reading a police report. The balance in the story, not portraying one side or the other as right or wrong, would tend to indicate it was written after the end of hostilities when old animosities were fading.
I’m happy to have added a small footnote to this story by helping to confirm the role of these Missouri women in the Civil War and to perhaps add more local color to the histories of Manchester, Ballwin and Pacific.
That’s as far as I can take the story for now. Perhaps I will take the advice of the ingenious Mrs. S., however, and “employ ladies” when I need further detective work done.
