The State Born of the Civil War, Part I: Philippi

Driving south from Fairmont on Route 250, we brake for curves. Some dark hollows have recommended speeds of 15mph. Confederate and Union troops moved even more slowly. Beverly-Fairmont Pike, expanded to Wheeling-Staunton Pike, was also called "the backdoor to the South." Confederates used it to reach Ohio and Pennsylvania; for Union forces, it was one way into Virginia. Families along this highway fought on both sides. One irate mother in Philippi, Mrs. Humphreys, with two "enemy" sons, fired the first shot of the first land battle.

This diagonal highway was a more accurate division, spiritually and politically, than the Mason-Dixon line, an hour north of here. In a psychic split, the upper portion of the state was accustomed to industry and trade on rivers that run north (Tygart and Monongahela). The first capital was established June 30, 1863, at Wheeling.

We find no huge battlefields--none of the greatest conflicts occurred in West Virginia--but get up-close and personal with the schizophrenic personality of "the only state born of the Civil War." Instead of battlegrounds, we visit the train depot in Grafton (General McClellan’s Union headquarters) and the grave of the first Union soldier killed by a Confederate. Private T. Bailey Brown is buried along with 1,215 from both sides (664 unknown) at Grafton National Cemetery.

On down the Pike, we see General McClellan’s desk and belongings in Ann Marie Jarvis’ dining room, where he set up his first headquarters at Webster.

No banner flew here, because the neutral, church-going woman with sons fighting on both sides wouldn’t allow it. With Union forces encamped across the road (at Ocean Pearl Felton Historical Park), she cared for injured Yankees and Confederates alike and spoke to reconcile families torn by hostility. Across from the house stood the train depot that stored Union supplies.

Troops moved along this 16-mile stretch between Grafton and Phillipi. First, rebels moved into Grafton, where they controlled the train and telegraph until General George B. McClellan routed them. Next, rebels retreated to Philippi, setting fire to railroad bridges along the way (which McClellan termed "an act of war"!), and established headquarters there under Colonel George Porterfield. US Colonels Kelley and Dumont almost surrounded them in Philippi and made them sprint down Main Street all the way to Huttonsville!

"The Philippi Race" is reenacted annually. We were highly entertained by Olivia’s telling of it at Barbour County’s Civil War Museum.

Quick Tips:

Famous for its covered bridge (used by both sides, of course), Philippi, population less than 3,000, flew no less than five flags during the Civil War. Blue and Gray Park beside the bridge still flies them--and explains each one.

The Historic District surrounds Main Street, where Confederates camped at the Courthouse and sprinted through town in retreat.

After the flood of 1985, residents were still finding cannonballs. Two Union cannons placed in 1861 on Broaddus Hill, overlooking town, can be viewed in replica at Alderson-Broaddus College. They were supposed to fire the first shot of the first land battle, but Mrs. Humphries stole their fire to warn her rebel son! Cannons still volleyed, but Confederates left so fast that there were few casualties. Colonel Porterfield and his men scrambled out of town so expeditiously, he didn’t finish his hot toddy. As the story goes, US Colonel Kelley finished it for him.

All that didn’t totally silence the Rebel Yell. If the Road Commission hadn’t heard it, the bridge wouldn’t be there today! Even when a boy fell through it in 1937, Philippi residents wouldn’t hear of having it moved to a "monument site."

Best Way To Get Around:

Visitors from a distance north or east might want to take I-68 and/or I-79 to Fairmont and get off at the South Fairmont exit onto Route 250 East (south), which will lead them through Grafton, Webster, and Philippi. Those approaching from the south or west need to take I-77 or I-64, then I-79 to Clarksburg, and get off at the Route 50 exit and head east toward Grafton, where they can get on Route 250.

You can get the newest brochure of West Virginia Division of Tourism, Civil War Heritage, by calling 800/CALLWVA or copy it here. Twenty-four sites are described and shown on a map, but you’ll still need driving directions to some.

Tourists in West Virginia don’t have to go to Cass anymore for a sightseeing excursion. New rail journeys in the Tygart Valley begin in Belington, Elkins, and Durbin. You can get the details on the Tygart Flyer, Cheat Mountain Salamander, and Durbin Rocket here.

I ask two Philippi residents to recommend a good restaurant, and they both say "Medallion." My second source adds that they have a good buffet on Wednesday evening. I see no other restaurants in town but one Chinese with takeout.

This small-town Main Street runs along the Tygart River with heavily forested hills on both sides of the valley, so that no spot in this town of less than 3,000 people is without its frilly green border, always in the corner of my eye. Shops and houses line the street, and the courthouse with large lawn, front and sides, is a quiet spot with benches and this clock that hints of yesteryear.

On down Main Street, we park on the curb in front of Medallion Restaurant, right in front of the entrance. Even before we get out of the car, we see the sign straight out of another decade. Was it the 1960’s when you could get all-you-can-eat for $4.95?

One wall is lined with booths, and the long counter runs along the opposite wall. Tables occupy the space in between, and the food bar is set up near the back--that’s where we sit. I’m always disappointed by food bars that offer only iceberg lettuce, and that’s what I sometimes find in a small town. Not here! Spinach salad is decorated with bits of candied fruits, red and green peppers, and an oily dressing that is delicious. Pasta salad, two kinds, contain black olives and red peppers galore. Wheat rolls appear to be homemade.

Second trip, my plate looks like this:

Okay, so the carrots are probably canned, and so are the green beans, but what can one expect for $4.95? I would drive down here any day for that cabbage! It’s delicious, and I feel as though I’ve been transported to Germany. The meatloaf is also good. Beautiful, tall chocolate cake tempts me, but my dessert must be more of that cabbage. I get a soup bowl full. It is cooked just right, tender and not overcooked.

David has fried chicken, meatloaf, and potatoes piled high on his plate, and I ask if his food is good, too. His comment is that it reminds him of Cracker Barrel's. That’s fair, especially since he loves their food. This little establishment puts out a pretty good country-style buffet.

At the register, our waitress, who appears to be an owner, strikes up a conversation about the hot weather and lack of rain in Philippi. This is a surprise to me, since my hometown just an hour away has had flood and storm warnings many days running, on and off for weeks. Not Philippi. (It’s been unusually dry for this time of year.) So, that’s the topic of conversation around town, and just as she is about to reveal what else residents are discussing, she’s called to the kitchen. The establishment is filling up with their Wednesday evening crowd. Everyone can afford dinner here, and it’s too hot to cook.

Over the ancient Tygart River is Philippi Covered Bridge, built in 1852. I’ve not seen it since its restoration after the fire in 1989. Under the direction of WVU Professor Emory Kemp, West Virginia Forestry Association cut huge yellow poplar logs. A special sawmill big enough to handle them had to be built at Belington, and local carpenters were trained to do the work--with hand tools! (The tools are displayed in the Museum!)

In case I am worried about authenticity, my informant at Barbour County Historical Society Museum assures me that most of the charred wood was simply scraped away, leaving enough thickness to be sturdy--after all, original local lumber was extra think! Mostly roof and siding were replaced, but not much structure this time.

Philippi residents let the Road Commission hear their Rebel Yell in the 1930’s, when some supports rotted away and a boy fell through and drowned. Locals wouldn’t have it replaced with iron. They wanted this bridge and no other!

The Road Commission offered to set it up at another site as a monument, but residents didn’t want a monument. They wanted to continue driving through it. The only answer then was concrete supports, and the only answer to the fire was to restore the upper two-arch wooden span. (Philippi-2: Road Commission-0) Now, it is more like the original than at any other period in its cat-like history.

West Virginia still has seventeen covered bridges, but this is the only one in the nation that operates as part of a federal highway.

It is a symbol of strength, we learn from one Philippi resident, who narrates with pride how its designer, Lemuel Chenoweth, presented his two-part model at a contest before the Virginia Assembly in Richmond in order to win the contract to build it. Hauled over the mountains in two saddlebags, the model was strung between two chairs, and Chenoweth jumped up onto his "bridge" and dared other designers to do the same with their models.

Chenoweth built many bridges for Staunton-Parkersburg Turnpike. This stretch of road was Beverly-Fairmont Pike, eventually expanded to Wheeling-Staunton Pike. Because it followed the B&O Railroad, it was a strategic focus of North and South in the Civil War. The bridge housed soldiers and supplies for both sides, depending on who occupied Philippi at the time. With its double-barrel construction and its long span across the Tygart River, there was plenty of room inside!

One must admit that it’s the perfect bridge for this little town. With forests all around and old-time craftsmanship the pride of the area, perhaps Philippi will keep its bridge forever. Originally a Central European concept, covered bridges are an aesthetic complement to West Virginia’s ancient streams. More authentic, more attractive red poplar roofing shingles replaced the not-so-authentic green tarp, and Olivia Sue leans forward to confide, "We didn’t need that anyway." Artists who draw and paint it agree. Parks on both sides offer excellent views.

The museum at the end of the covered bridge is in the restored Train Depot.

We’re late--after 4pm, closing time. No matter, the door is unlocked, and Olivia Sue phones home without prompting to say she’ll be ready to leave at 5:15pm. I get the feeling she can’t pass up any opportunity to show the collection.

We make short shrift of the mummies--recent mummies! National Geographic, Fox News, and other media have covered the Philippi Mummies, and visitors can view the National Geographic video. I take photos, but Olivia informs me that I must get permission from the owner to publish them. This museum has so much Civil War memorabilia that one can be fascinated for an hour without viewing mummies. (After Olivia’s commentary on each display, every visitor becomes an authority on the Battle of Philippi.) About the mummies, I’ll just say that a letter on display from the female makes me wonder if she really belonged in Weston State Hospital for the Insane. (Read it!)

Colonel Kelley’s sword, with which he led the charge down Broaddus Hill and across the covered bridge into Philippi, is on display along with many cannonballs, other swords, muskets, homemade bullets, General McClellan’s saddle, and more.

The first amputation of the war occurred here, and (now) Hanger Orthopedic Group’s prosthesis is displayed. Photos of Yankees and Confederates, including Colonel Porterfield, commander of the southern detachment that occupied Philippi, and others decorate walls. Guns, medicines, flags, tools, and more are accompanied with familiar narration, as though Olivia had been there.

Her description of the fierce storm in which the charge was made; the exact location of each officer and his path across town; the building, roof, or lawn where each artifact was recovered; content of telegraph messages that were intercepted; mistakes that were made by Confederate officers and lookouts--all is revealed. It may have been not the most exciting battle, but it must be the most-intimately covered one!

Olivia demonstrates, too, as she does with this antique lawnmower.

Every item is explained with an appropriate twist of irony or sarcasm, and I’m so entertained that I find myself confused by a myriad of details. No problem! With the patience of Job, she begins at the beginning and retells that part of the story until I can repeat it back to her: "Okay, so Porterfield was occupying the train depot in Grafton when he intercepted McClellan’s message and passed it on to Robert E. Lee. When Lee didn’t act upon it, Porterfield took it upon himself to burn railroad bridges."

She nods her affirmative the whole while, so I know I’m getting it right. She’s a born educator! I must run down to the courthouse now to see the "new" one, since I know everything that happened there and in the old one, too, when Rebels used it as their barracks.

One can buy beautiful books for children and adults about the battle and the bridge.

South of Grafton, we almost zip past the town of Webster before we see it. We see Anna Jarvis House on the left, but can’t find parking. On the right is what appears to be a nursery with parking. This is actually Ocean Pearl Felton Historical Park, where General McClellan’s men camped and where the train depot marked the end of the rail line when Anna Jarvis’ parents moved here from Culpepper, Virginia. We park and pay here. It was a "booming" settlement, our guide informs us, with 23 families, grist mill, saloon, brothel, train depot, and church where Anna’s father preached.

Anna Jarvis, known as Founder of Mothers’ Day, was born here in 1864, near the end of the Civil War. Her mother, Ann Marie Reeves Jarvis, has more interest for Civil War buffs. She had learned a bit about medicine and sanitation from her brother, Dr. James E. Reeves, and so she assumed a position of instructing nurses and caring for soldiers. In addition, she hosted General McClellan when he commandeered her home.

The grounds are planted with rose bushes, black-eyed Susans, lilies, and other flowers. We are attracted to the breezeway, where Olive suggests we begin. On this 90-degree afternoon in July, we feel cool enough on the wooden swing, and the cat sits with us as we learn about the Jarvis family, Wheeling-Staunton Pike, and Webster.

This breezeway between kitchen and root cellar was called the whistle way.

Servants were required to whistle when they brought food across it. That way, owners knew that help weren’t eating food.

We see evidence of a benevolent family who probably would have fed their servants, anyway. The home is full of items 100-150 years old: clothing of Anna and her mother, including black wedding dresses and baby clothes; bed covers; Union military uniforms and paraphernalia; the original kitchen sink. I’m especially impressed by the ladies’ hats displayed on the wall, and our guide says, "Anna was a dresser." Friends with President Woodrow Wilson, she met with him decked out to the hilt. Photos tell that story.

In travels around West Virginia’s Civil War sites, I have encountered several versions of why Anna worked for years to honor her mother by establishing the national and international holiday. One I like best cites Ann Marie’s work mothering soldiers and reconciling her sons and others’, torn by loyalties to opposing sides. The woman kept other mothers busy by rounding them up and putting them to work caring for injured so that they wouldn’t dwell on their own losses. Read more here. Somehow, the war connection got lost for a while, but now is reinstated. Now Anna Jarvis House is a Civil War Heritage Site.

We tour nursery, bedrooms, kitchen, diningroom, and parlor.

All wallpapers have been faithfully reproduced except for this one. In General McClellan’s office/diningroom, half the walls--a symbolic compromise!--feature the same paper found in his office in Washington, D. C.