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Nancy E. Hatfield Memories, Part 4 (1974)

30 Saturday Oct 2021

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Big Sandy Valley, Hatfield-McCoy Feud, Logan, Matewan, Women's History

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Appalachia, attorney, attorney general, Big Sandy River, Bill Smith, Cap Hatfield, Catlettsburg, Devil Anse Hatfield, feuds, genealogy, Georgia, Hatfield-McCoy Feud, history, Howard B. Lee, Huntington, Jim Comstock, Joe Glenn, Kentucky, Logan, Logan County, logging, Mate Creek, Matewan, Mingo County, Nancy E. Hatfield, Ohio, Ohio River, Portsmouth, Tennessee, timbering, Tug Fork, University Law School, Wayne County, West Virginia, Wyoming County

Howard B. Lee, former Attorney General of West Virginia, provided this account of Nancy Hatfield (widow of Cap) in the early 1970s:

“Mrs. Hatfield, we have talked much about an era that is gone. Feuds are ended, railroads and paved highways have come, the huge coal industry has developed, churches and schools are everywhere, and people are educated. Now, I would like to know something about you.”

This is the brief life-story of the remarkable and unforgettable Nancy Elizabeth Hatfield, as she related it to me.

She was Nancy Elizabeth Smith, called “Nan” by her family and friends, born in Wayne County, West Virginia, September 10, 1866. (She died August 24, 1942). In her early years, she lived “close enough to the Ohio River,” she said, “to see the big boats that brought people and goods up from below.” She attended a country school three months out of the year, and acquired the rudiments of a common school education, plus a yearning for wider knowledge.

While she was still a young girl her parents moved by push-boat up the Big Sandy and Tug rivers into what is now Mingo County, then Logan County. They settled in the wilderness on Mate Creek, near the site of the present town of Matewan.

“Why they made that move,” said Nancy Elizabeth, “I have never understood.”

In her new environment, in the summer of 1880, when she was 14 years old, Nancy Elizabeth married Joseph M. Glenn, an enterprising young adventurer from Georgia, who had established a store in the mountains, and floated rafts of black walnut logs, and other timber, down the Tug and Big Sandy rivers to the lumber mills of Catlettsburg, Ky., and Portsmouth, Ohio.

Two years after their marriage Glenn was waylaid and murdered by a former business associate, named Bill Smith–no relation to Nancy Elizabeth. Smith escaped into the wilderness and was never apprehended. The 16-year-old widow was left with a three-weeks old infant son, who grew into manhood and for years, that son, the late Joseph M. Glenn, was a leading lawyer in the city of Logan.

On October 11, 1883, a year after her husband’s death, at the age of 17, Nancy Elizabeth married the 19-year-old Cap Hatfield, second son of Devil Anse.

“He was the best looking young man in the settlement,” she proudly told me.

But at that time Cap had little to recommend him, except his good looks. He was born Feb. 6, 1864, during the Civil War, and grew up in a wild and lawless wilderness, where people were torn and divided by political and sectional hatreds and family feuds–a rugged, mountain land, without roads, schools, or churches.

When he married, Cap could neither read nor write, but he possessed the qualities necessary for survival in that turbulent time and place–he was “quick on the draw, and a dead shot.”

“When we were married, Cap was not a very good risk as a husband,” said Nancy Elizabeth. “The feud had been going on for a year, and he was already its most deadly killer. Kentucky had set a price on his head. But we were young, he was handsome, and I was deeply in love with him. Besides, he was the best shot on the border, and I was confident that he could take care of himself–and he did.”

Nancy Elizabeth taught her handsome husband to read and write, and imparted to him the meager learning she had acquired in the country school in Wayne County. But, more important, the she instilled into him her own hunger for knowledge.

Cap had a brilliant mind, and he set about to improve it. He and Nancy Elizabeth bought and read many books on history and biography, and they also subscribed for and read a number of the leading magazines of their day. In time they built up a small library or good books, which they read and studied along with their children.

At the urging of Nancy Elizabeth, Cap decided to study law, and enrolled at the University Law School at Huntington, Tennessee. But six months later, a renewal of the feud brought him back to the mountains. He never returned to law school, but continued his legal studies at home, and was admitted to the bar in Wyoming and Mingo counties. However, he never practiced the profession.

Nancy Elizabeth and Cap raised seven of their nine children, and Nancy’ss eyes grew moist as she talked of the sacrifices she and Cap had made that their children might obtain the education fate had denied to their parents. But her face glowed with a mother’s pride as she said:

“All our children are reasonably well educated. Three are college graduates, and the others attended college from one to three years. But, above everything else, they are all good and useful citizens.”

As I left the home of the remarkable and unforgettable Nancy Hatfield, I knew that I had been in the presence of a queenly woman–a real “Mountain Queen.”

Source: West Virginia Women (Richwood, WV: Jim Comstock, 1974), p. 153-154.

Huntington Editorial about the UMWA (1925)

05 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Coal, Huntington, Logan, Williamson

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Appalachia, Charleston, coal, Herald-Dispatch, history, Huntington, John L. Lewis, John Mitchell, Kanawha Field, labor, Logan, Logan County, Mingo County, New River Field, Ohio, Portsmouth, Samuel Gompers, United Mine Workers of America, West Virginia, Williamson

From the Logan Banner of Logan, WV, comes this editorial regarding a visit to the region by UMWA officials in 1925. The story is dated September 4, 1925.

A STATEMENT OF INDISPUTABLE FACTS

The Sunday issue of the Huntington Herald-Dispatch contained a most interesting editorial which told the unvarnished truth about the recent visit the officials of the United Mine Workers to the Logan and Williamson coal fields. The editorial follows.

Disappointed Visitors

Within the past three days officials of the United Mine Workers of America have visited Logan and Williamson and some of the mining operations near these prosperous West Virginia cities. Up to the hour of this writing the visitors have made no statement either as to the purpose of their visit or the impressions they have gained from the conditions encountered.

It may be taken for granted, however, that the gentlemen representing the United Mine Workers are not highly pleased. They did not find in the miners of the Logan and Williamson fields the “serfs” and downtrodden creatures professional agitators have described. They did not find beleaguered camps of concentrados crying out for release through the medium of membership in the U.M.W. They did not find gunmen and desperadoes awaiting them at the train to turn them back with broken heads and verbal abuses. The absence of these things were disappointing.

But for the purpose of the U.M.W. the things these visitors did find were even more disappointing. They found for example miners who earn more dollars per year than any others in the bituminous fields in the world. They found more miners living in better houses than are to be found in any of the mining camps of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana or Illinois. They found miners and their wives and children better fed, better clothed and with better living conditions surrounding them than any others in the United States.

They found in Logan and Williamson fields men who are content and who are unwilling to leave steady employment, good wages, and good homes with all the comforts of life, to take up a miserable existence in the tents of professional strikers there to subject their wives and children to unwanted hardships and deprivations.

In short, they were not welcomed as needed deliverers. The miners in these fields know that it is not the purpose of these gentlemen to bring about a betterment of the conditions under which they live, but to create a condition which will cause coal production to cease. Organization is a fine thing and should be encouraged when it is for the good of the organized. But the proposal of the United Mine Workers, as it affects these miners and the business and labor interests of this section in general, is sinister and destructive. The unionization at this time of any considerable part of the Williamson and Logan fields would mean a strike. A strike, if effective, would paralyze business in all of Logan county, and in Huntington the result would be almost disastrous. An effective strike in these fields would paralyze Huntington’s wholesale and jobbing business. It would close many of the factories and worst of all would almost immediately result in unemployment for hundreds of railway shop workers and scores of train crews all the way from Charleston to Portsmouth with the brunt of the blow falling upon Huntington.

The United Mine Workers is no longer the helpful, constructive organization it was twenty years ago. Its ranks have been decimated and its policies have been so radical and unreasonable in many cases as to bring it into disrepute with the public, including the legitimate labor organizations whose members are ruled by reason. In West Virginia dues paying members have dwindled to almost the vanishing point. In strikes, fomented in an effort to destroy West Virginia coal in the interest of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois mines and the mine workers in those states, West Virginia has cost the U.M.W. millions and the officials now face the impending anthracite strike with a sadly depleted treasury.

The desperate plight of Mr. Lewis, his organizers, and well paid cabinet naturally produces its own results. The strike in northern West Virginia has had no effect other than to keep some thousands of men out of employment and deprive thousands of women and children of the comforts the pay envelope would provide. The mining of coal in the Kanawha and New River fields the Miners Union has, to use a baseball term, “struck out.” Attempts to force upon the operators a wage scale which prohibited the mining and marketing of coal at a price less than a ruinous loss have resulted in strike after strike in those fields until the union is but a band of disorganized stragglers whose representatives, when they bolted the State Federation of Labor convention in this city two weeks ago, went away unwept and were not urged to return.

If the miners of this district had any prospect, even remote, of gaining anything by organization, no self-respecting man could afford to oppose or discourage the movement. But the weight is all on the other side. If they needed the union, public sentiment would see that they got it. We are living like that today. But since they do not need it, since the movement is directed against their welfare and against the thousands of legitimate unionists and all business and all industry in this great tri-state area, the organization effort, if it is being seriously contemplated–which we very greatly doubt–has no appeal either to the miners or to public sentiment.

The Logan and Williamson miners do not want to exchange the well filled pay envelope for the miserable weekly doe from the U.M.W. treasury. They do not want to trade their comfortable, well furnished and well lighted homes for leaky tents with tallow candles. They do not want to take their families from places and stations of comfort and respectability to sloth and degradation.

Organization means strike. Strike means starvation and, if the bloody history of Mingo’s experience with the United Mine Workers is to be repeated, bloodshed, terror, and bold assassination. Mr. Lewis, by a blind and unreasoning insistence upon the impossible Jacksonville agreement, has gotten himself into a dilemma of the most embarrassing kind. He is at end of his tether. The treasury is low. The organization is in a state of decay, with miners every day discovering they are better off without it than with it.

If, instead of uttering strike threats; if, instead of trying to enforce a wage scale which is a grotesque economic absurdity and rank impossibility; if, instead of leading the miners into hardship and strike, he would lead them in the ways of peace by consenting to wage adjustments in keeping with the state of the coal market, the organization might regain public confidence, recover its vitality, and reclaim its usefulness. And Mr. Lewis himself, instead of facing the imminent danger of becoming a discredited industrial adventurer, would be acclaimed a leader, as was John Mitchell, and as was Samuel Gompers.

Former Sheriff Sidney B. Robertson Obituary (1923)

09 Friday Oct 2020

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Huntington, Logan

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A.S. Bryan, Appalachia, Aracoma Lodge 99, banker, banking, C.C. Crane, C.H. Bronson, Charleston, Cincinnati, Cole and Crane Company, Ettye Robertson, First Presbyterian Church, genealogy, Gilbert, Guyan Valley Bank, Harry N. Robertson, history, Huntington, Independent Order of Odd Fellows, Indianapolis, J. Murray Robertson, John Edwin Robertson, Kentucky, Knight Templars, Logan, Logan Banner, Logan County, Louisville, Mae Robertson, Mary S. Robertson, masons, merchant, Ohio, politics, Portsmouth, Robert S. Shrewsbury, Ruby Robertson Parris, sheriff, Shriners, Spring Hill Cemetery, Stirrat, Sydney Robertson, W.B. Miles, West Virginia, Wheeling Consistory

From the Logan Banner of Logan, WV, comes this obituary for former sheriff Sidney B. Robertson, dated June 22, 1923:

S.B. Robertson Dies At Huntington Home

Former sheriff of Logan county, Sidney B. Robertson, of 501 Fifth Avenue, Huntington, died Monday afternoon at 5:40 o’clock after a lingering illness. He has been in failing health for over a year, but it was not until about four months ago that his condition was regarded as serious. The best medical skill in the country was employed in his behalf, but none could make a diagnosis of his condition.

Funeral services will be conducted this afternoon, at 2:30 o’clock at the late home by the Rev. J.L. Mauze, pastor of the First Presbyterian church of which Mr. Robertson was a member. The body will be interred in Spring Hill Huntington cemetery following the services.

Mr. Robertson was born, August 3, 1864, and was the son of Mr. and Mrs. John Edwin Robertson. He early entered into business, and was prominent in lumber circles for some time, being associated with the late C.C. Crane, of Cincinnati, in that business. He served as sheriff of this county from 1900 to 1904 and following that engaged in the wholesale grocery business, until the time of his retirement, a year ago, which was necessitated by ill health. He had extensive holdings in coal mines of the county.

Mr. Robertson was in Logan about a month ago with Laryed Buskirk, on business connected with the purchase of the Stirrat-Gilbert right-of-way–at that time Mr. Robertson was in very poor health and told friends that it was doubtful if he would ever be in Logan again.

On February 22, 1884, he was married to Ettye Bryan, of Logan, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A.S. Bryan. Four children were born of this union. Fifteen years ago, in the fall of 1907, the family moved to Huntington, which has been their home since that date.

Mr. Robertson was prominent in Masonry. He was a member of the Huntington chapter, No. 53, was a Shriner in the Charleston Beni Kedem temple, was a member of the Kanawha Commandery of Knight Templars of Charleston, held the thirty-second degree in Masonry in the in the Wheeling Consistory, and was past master of Aracoma lodge 99, of this city. He was also a member of the Logan chapter of I.O.O.F. He was at one time president of the Guyan Valley Bank and held a great number of offices in the different companies in which he was interested. He was a member of the First Presbyterian church of Huntington and was a member of the Men’s Bible class of that church.

Mr. Robertson is survived by his wife, Mrs. Ettye Robertson, three sons, Dr. J.E. Robertson, of Louisville, Ky., Harry N. Robertson of Logan, and J. Murray Robertson, of Huntington, an uncle, Sydney Robertson of Mana, Ark., three sisters, Mrs. C.H. Bronson and Mrs. W.B. Miles of Huntington, and Mrs. Mae Robertson of Pawtucket, R.I., and three grand children, Robert S. Shrewsbury of Huntington, John Edwin Robertson, Jr., of Louisville, Ky., and Mary S. Robertson of Logan.

Mr. Robertson’s only daughter, Mrs. Ruby Robertson Parrish, met a tragic death only a few weeks ago, dying as a result of injuries received when the family automobile went over a cliff near Portsmouth, O., while returning from the Memorial Day races at Indianapolis.

Rats in Logan, WV (1922-1923)

19 Wednesday Jun 2019

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Logan, Women's History

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Anna Mae Wright, Appalachia, Aracoma Hotel, Chamber of Commerce, D.M. Staples, First National Bank, Helen Caldwell, history, Logan, Logan Banner, Logan County, Logan Planing Mill, Main Street, Norfolk, Portsmouth, rats, Virginia, West Virginia

From the Logan Banner of Logan, WV, come these stories of rats in the city, printed in 1922-1923:

Oh, Rats!

The Chamber of Commerce has collected quite a few rat tails since its announcement some days ago of the contest which ends on July 15th with a grand prize to the person having collected the greatest number from rats killed. The tails are delivered to Mr. McGuire each Saturday morning at the Chamber’s offices over the First National Bank building, at which time five cents are paid for each tail. The big prize will be given on July 15th, so it’s up to those who have been interested to get busy for the next two weeks.

Logan (WV) Banner, 30 June 1922

***

Extermination of Rats Contest Continues While Longer

Secretary Announces It Such a Success That Contest Will Continue

Five Pennies a Rat

Mr. Davis of East End, Leads in Contest With 113 of Rodents Killed

Such interest is being taken in the rat contest as inaugurated by the Chamber of Commerce that the body has decided not to close the contest July 15, as formally announced. The closing date will be announced later and in the meantime the Chamber wants every boy, girl, man or woman to be an active soldier in the extermination of this rodent.

So far Mr. Davis who lives near the Logan Planing Mill in the eastern portion of the city, has the largest number of rat tails to his credit, having delivered a total of 113 on last Saturday. These pests are said to be unusually numerous and active in this vicinity of the city and Mr. Davis has been unusually busy in killing everyone that he has been able to find. He is yet adding to his honor roll and will evidently keep the good work going until the end of the campaign when it is hoped he will be so fond of slaying rats he will continue the good work through life.

Many other citizens of the city are making records and there is one thing sure—when the rat campaign is over there will be a smaller number of the rodents in the city than there were when the contest opened.

Secretary McGuire calls for the citizens to keep up the good fight and announces that the more money the Chamber has to pay out for rat tails the better it pleases them and that he will be on hand each Saturday to reward the faithful exterminators and he hopes to see the number grow larger as each week-end roll around.

Logan (WV) Banner, 14 July 1922

***

Rodent Carries Ladies’ Outfit, But Dial Gets It

Chief of police Dial had a rather funny experience the other day. He was crossing Main street when he saw some sort of an animal moving down the street with a large package on its back that almost hid the animal from view. For some moments his brain was puzzled at the queer sight. He thought for an instant his eyes might be playing him a prank. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again and there it was moving along down the road.

Dial could not remember of imbibing any amount of “hootch” that might cause him to see things so he pulled his trusty pocket gun and fired away. The beast tumbled over and the package felt o the paved highway. Imagine his surprise when he discovered one of the large rats that inhabit the post office had escaped from the building and was making a get-away with a huge parcel post package. The address had been removed from the package by the rodent and several large holes punctured through the wrapping.

An examination of the package brought to light one voile skirt, a pink corset, two crepe de chine waists, 4 pair of bright colored hose, 1 chemise, 2 princess slips, 3 corset covers, 1 pair “knickers,” 2 pair of “Teddy’s,” 1 pair of fancy garters, 5 hair nets, 1 hair rat of auburn hue and two powder puffs.

The “he” rat had evidently made an inspection of the package and found therein a quantity of material with which to dress up Mrs. Rat and was on his way home with the package when he met his untimely death at the hands of the ever watchful chief of the city of Logan.

It is understood the post office rats held funeral services in the local office last Saturday night. There was much sorrow at the loss of one of their members but with the birth rate at a high figure his place will soon be filled and the deceased rat soon forgotten in the rush of rodents at the Logan post office.

Logan (WV) Banner, 11 August 1922

***

Pretty Poisoners Here For War On Rodents

Misses Wright and Caldwell Arrive in County For Rat Crusade

A rat extermination campaign was launched in Logan this week when Miss Anna Mae Wright, pretty Portsmouth, Va., girl and Miss Helen Caldwell, her aid-de-camp, began a cooperative drive with the city health department against the destructive rodents.

Women have entered many fields of endeavor but few of them have been of wider benefit to humanity than has Miss Wright in her plan of rat killing, municipal officials in nineteen states have testified following successful campaigns conducted in hundreds of towns and cities.

The germ of the idea for a national rat extermination was created in the mind of Miss Wright three years ago while she was assisting in a civic campaign against rats at Norfolk, Va. It was in this campaign that a government-tested West Virginia product was found to give best results. This product, barium carbonate, is a mineral manufactured from the waste products of West Virginia mines and through its use thousands of rats have been eradicated.

Enthused by the success of the Norfolk campaign and acting under the encouragement of the prominent health authorities in the east, Miss Wright, accompanied by a friend, Mrs. D.M. Staples, started on a tour of southern states during which they met with unusual success.

Romance, however, finally interrupted the partnership oft ese two young ladies in their strange business venture, when Mrs. Staples, a widow met and married a prominent Virginian. Undaunted, Miss Wright has continued her work and is coming to Logan to aid the municipal health department in its efforts to rid the city of rats.

A study of the rat family, made from statistics compiled from all parts of the United States, reveals that there are an average of two rats to every inhabitant in any city or town.

“On this basis,” Miss Wright explained, “Logan and vicinity has a population of 10,000 which costs the people $18,000 annually to feed.”

Upon the arrival of the young ladies in Logan, the Mayor was communicated with and they found him a willing helper. He secured for them the endorsement of the various civic bodies and then brought them to The Banner for the publicity campaign.

Their interviewer forgot at times these girls were “rat killers” and as the conversation would naturally turn to other channels he was soon reminded the campaign was against rats and not hearts.

“We’re not afraid of rats,” the girls answered to a query. “You see, we seldom see the live creatures anyway. We help set the bait and wait for results.”

The campaign was started in the business section immediately after their arrival and the girls are calling on the larger firms and assisting in the work. The residential sections cannot all be reached by them, but a supply of the barium carbonate may be had at any of the stores and if the directions are not thoroughly understood or proper results not obtained, Miss Wright or Miss Caldwell will be found at the Aracoma hotel and either will gladly help any person.

Miss Wright’s plan to work is quite simple, she explained. The right proportion of barium carbonate is mixed with delicate morsels of food which are invitingly displayed along the walls of rooms or in known runaways used by rats.

This powder is tasteless but deadly in its work, she explained. There is little to be feared of the rats dying underground or in the walls of buildings after they have eaten of the poison. Its action is such, she stated, that the afflicted rat always comes out into the open air in order to breathe more easily. It is a death of strangulation and the doped animals always come out of their retreats when they feel themselves afflicted.

The barium carbonate used in the local campaign will be furnished by Miss Wright at a nominal cost, city officials announced.

Logan (WV) Banner, 27 April 1923

Battle of Kanawha Gap (1861)

10 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Barboursville, Big Creek, Boone County, Chapmanville, Civil War, Guyandotte River, Tazewell County

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129th Regiment Virginia Militia, 1st Kentucky Infantry, 34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, 5th Virginia Regiment, Abram S. Piatt, Appalachia, Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, Barboursville, Battle of Kanawha Gap, Big Creek, Big Sandy River, Boone County, Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Camp Enyart, Ceredo, Chapmanville, Charleston, Chicago Daily Tribune, Cincinnati Daily Press, Cincinnati Gazette, civil war, Cleveland Morning Leader, Coal River, Confederate Army, Daily Green Mountain Freeman, David S. Enyart, Eli Thayer, Evening Star, George McClellan, Greenbrier County, Guyandotte River, H.C. Evans, Harpers Ferry, Herman Evans, history, J.V. Guthrie, J.W. Davis, Jacob D. Cox, John Dejernatt, Kanawha River, Kanawha Valley, Logan County, Logan Court House, M.H. Wood, National Republican, O.P. Evans, Ohio, Ohio River, Parkersburg, Pomeroy Weekly Telegraph, Portsmouth, Richmond Whig, Robert E. Lee, Samuel Smoot, Sewell Mountain, Southwestern Times, Staunton Spectator, T.W. Rathbone, Tazewell County, Tug Fork, Union Army, Virginia, West Virginia, West Virginia Division of Culture and History, Wheeling, William Baisden, William Rosecrans, William S. Rosecrans, Zouaves

The following newspaper accounts describe the Battle of Kanawha Gap near present-day Chapmanville, Logan County, WV, which occurred on September 25, 1861:

Cleveland (OH) Morning Leader, 3 October 1861

GALLIPOLIS, Oct. 2.

The expedition planned by Col. J.V. Guthrie of the First Kentucky Regiment, and sent out under Lieut. Col. Enyart and Col. Piatt, has returned. They encountered the enemy at Chapmansville under Col. J. Lucien Davis, of Greenbrier, and utterly routed them. The enemy lost between fifty and sixty killed. Our loss was four killed. The expedition returned to Charleston on the 30th ult.

david s. enyart photo

Col. David S. Enyart, 1st Kentucky Infantry (Union).

Evening Star (Washington, DC), 4 October 1861

A Confederate Camp in Western Virginia Broken Up and Routed

CINCINNATI, Oct. 3 — A body of Federal troops, under Lieut. Col. Enyart, attacked a camp of rebels at Chapmansville, in Logan county, Va., near the Kentucky line, routing them, killing sixty and taking seventy prisoners. The same body of rebels were afterward intercepted in their retreat by Col. Piatt, who killed forty and made a large number prisoners.

abram s. piatt photo

Col. Abram S. Piatt (1821-1908), 34th Ohio Infantry Regiment.

New York (NY) Herald, 4 October 1861

FIGHT WITH THE REBELS AT CHAPMANSVILLE

Cincinnati, Oct. 3, 1861.

The Kanawha correspondent of the Commercial of this city says that five companies of the First Kentucky regiment, four companies of the Thirty-fourth Ohio regiment and one company of the Fifty Virginia regiment, under Lieutenant Colonel Enyart, surrounded and attacked the rebels at Chapmansville, and after a short engagement completely routed them, killing sixty and taking seventy prisoners. The rebels in escaping were intercepted by Colonial Piatt, who killed forty and took a large number of prisoners. The country between Charleston and Wyandot river is now freed from secession power. This is the most effective blow given the rebels in this part of the valley.

IMG_2256.JPG

One section of the Kanawha Gap Battle Site, Chapmanville, Logan County, WV, 9 June 2018.

Daily Green Mountain Freeman (Montpelier, VT), 7 October 1861

Chapmansville, Va., the scene of the most recent engagement, is a small post village in Logan county, Va. Logan county is in the extreme Western portion of Virginia, the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy being the boundary line between it and the State of Kentucky. It is one of the largest, wildest and most sparsely inhabited counties in the State.

IMG_2238.JPG

Part of the Kanawha Gap Battle Site, Chapmanville, Logan County, WV, 9 June 2018.

National Republican (Washington, DC), 7 October 1861

THE SITUATION.

The two affairs at Chapmansville, reported three or four days since, in which the enemy lost one hundred killed and a proportionate number of wounded, will, it is supposed, restore permanent peace to the Virginia counties western of the Kanawha. Chapmansville is on the turnpike from Charleston to Logan county Court-house, and is about twenty-five miles to the south of Barboursville, the shire town of Cabell county. The secessionists in that part of Western Virginia have been numerous and pertinacious. They have once had possession of Guyandotte on the Ohio river and for a long time they threatened Ceredo (Mr. Thayer’s colony,) which lies on the river between Guyandotte and the Kentucky line. There have been two engagements with them in the rear of Ceredo, one at Barboursville, one at Logan county Court-house, one at Boone county Court-house (which town was burnt by the national troops,) and finally two at Chapmansville. The truth is, that in large portions of numerous, and, but for the early occupation of that region by the National troops, would have controlled it, not because they were the majority, but because one secessionist is, everywhere, a match for three Union men.

The secessionists are reckless, violent, and desperate, while their opponents, if not timid are at any rate remarkably pacific. We doubt, indeed, from all the information we can get, whether throwing out of the account Wheeling and Parkersburg, the terminal on the Ohio river of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, Western Virginia had more elements of Union strength than the Valley of Virginia. From Harper’s Ferry south for fifty miles, the Union men have been numerous from the first, and it is a matter of deep regret that it did not consist with the plans of military strategy adopted at the headquarters of the army here, to occupy (at least) the northern part of the Valley of Virginia. It is consoling, that a different policy was adopted in retrospect to Western Virginia. That region was promptly taken possession of, cleared of the rebel armies by Gen. McClellan, and has since been victoriously held by Gen. Rosecrans. All attempts of the enemy to affect a re-entrance into Western Virginia are promptly repulsed.

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt's Zouaves Flag Photo.jpg

Staunton (VA) Spectator, 8 October 1861

Status at Sewell’s Mountain.

The enemy, under Gen. Rozencrantz, and our forces under Gen. Lee, are both upon Sewell Mountain very near each other. A fight has been daily expected there for some time, but the enemy have been fortifying ever since they have been there, and there will not be a fight unless we attack them in their entrenchments. They are afraid to attack us, and it is probable that our force is too weak to risk an attack on them within their fortification. It may, therefore, be some time before an engagement will take place. We understand that we had sent a force of four regiments to their rear for the purpose of cutting off their supplies—that we succeeded in getting around them, but were compelled to return because we did not have sufficient supplies ourselves. We also learn that Col. Jas. W. Davis of Greenbrier, whilst commanding a force of militia in Logan county, attacked a part of the enemy, and was shot down at the first fire. The militia, after several rounds caught the Yankee fever which made their cowardly legs run off with their brave hearts, and they left their commander in the hands of the enemy, who, we fear, has died from his wound.

IMG_2923

New historical sign placed by the WV Division of Culture and History located at the 119 ramp in Chapmanville, WV. 26 April 2017.

Chicago (IL) Daily Tribune, 9 October 1861

A Splendid Achievement of the Ohio Zouaves–“Wood Up” the Battle Cry.

[The following letter is exclusively devoted to the fight which the Piatt Zouaves had with the rebels near Chapmansville, Va. It is distinct from the victorious fight which the command of Lieut. Col. Enyart had with another body of rebels, in the same vicinity. EDS. CINCINNATI COM]

CAMP ENYART, KANAWHA, Oct. 2, 1861. EDS. COM.: The Zouave Thirty-fourth Regimens, Ohio, have had a chance to show their metal. This was on Wednesday, on Kanawha Gap, near Chapmansville, Va. After marching 42 miles, they came upon the enemy, who were behind breastworks, but could not stand our boys’ steady fire, for they retreated in utter consternation, their Col. J.W. Davis, of Greenbrier, Va, (but the traitor is a native of Portsmouth, Ohio,) being mortally wounded. We killed 20, took 3 prisoners, a secesh flag, 20 feet long with FIFTEEN STARS, 4 horses, 1 wagon, 10 rifles (one of which I claim), 12 muskets, and commissary stores (very low.) We lost 3 killed, 9 wounded, one since died. The route of the enemy was complete, although they had a brave, skillful commander, and strong position, with two days’ information of our intentions. They fled the moment their commander fell. The fight lasted about 10 minutes opposite the breastworks, but a running fire was kept up previous to that, by the Bushwhackers and rebel cavalry for two hours. At every turn of the road over the mountains, they would fire upon our advance men, wheel round, and gallop away. This kind of fight was kept up till we came suddenly upon their breastworks, immediately in line of our entire column. It was made on the side of a knoll, between two mountain sides, the road running between the mountain on our left. The wily rebel commander had adroitly cut down the brush on the right, placing a force of 100 men on the mountain top on our right, who raked our column from the front to the center. This was to draw our attention from their breastworks. Our men naturally fired upon the rebels on their right, steadily advancing up the road, until within 20 feet of the enemy’s works, when the rebels suddenly opened fire, from their right, left and center. The order from Col. Piatt and Lieut. Col. Toland, to flank right and left was immediately responded to by the Zouaves with a hurrah, a Zouave yell, and a cry of “wood up” from Little Red; a dash by our boys upon the enemy’s breastworks, above which about 300 rebel heads suddenly appeared, unknown by our men till that moment. They sent a perfect storm of bullets around, over, under, and into our men. A few minutes more and our boys were inside the breastworks, chasing them over the mountains, the enemy running away like cowards as they proved to be. They left 29 dead behind. Their force was 450 infantry and 50 cavalry. Our force was 560.

We buried our three brave dead comrades that night, carried our wounded to the house wherein the rebel Colonel lay, mortally wounded, deserted by all his men but one. Our whole column finally marched into the little town of Chapmansville, formerly headquarters of the enemy, and camped for the night.

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt's Zouaves Captain Photo.jpg

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt’s Zouaves, Captain Photo.

Pomeroy (OH) Weekly Telegraph, 11 October 1861

Brilliant Action in the Kanawha Valley.

CHARLESTON, Va., Sept. 30, ’61. Eds. Cin. Com.–Information having been brought to Col. J.V. Guthrie, commanding this post, that a large force of Rebels were gathered at Logan Co., Lt. Col. Enyart, of the 1st Kentucky, was at once sent to engage them. His force was composed of five companies of the 1st Kentucky, four companies of the 34th Ohio–German Regiment–under command of Col. A.S. Piatt, and one company of the 5th Virginia Regiment, under command of Maj. M.H. Wood.

Col. Enyart, with the Kentucky force, surrounded and attacked the Rebels at Chapmanville, and after a short but decisive engagement, completely routed them, killing 60 and taking 70 prisoners. The Rebels, in escaping, were intercepted by Col. Piatt, who surprised them and killed 40 men, and took a large number of prisoners.

The force of the Rebels is now completely broken up, and the country between this point and Guyandotte River is now freed from Secession power. This is the most effective blow given the Rebels in this part of the Valley.

In great haste. Further particulars by next boat.

Very respectfully,

M. CLEMENS,

Lieut. Col. 5th Va. Reg’t.

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt's Zouaves Soldier Photo

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt’s Zouaves, Soldier.

Evening Star (Washington, DC), 11 October 1861

THE BATTLE OF KANAWHA GAP.

The Western Virginia correspondent of the Cincinnati Gazette gives the following account of the late engagement at Kanawha Gap:

There were about 1,050 troops under the command of Colonels Enyart and Piatt, who left their camp Monday morning, 30th ulto., and took up their line of march for the enemy.

The forces moved together until they reached Peytona, on Cole river, where they separated; Col. Enyart going up Cole river. Col. Enyart did not meet the enemy in force at any place but his men did meet and ford swollen rivers, and marched on short rations, and were anxious to meet with the running enemy of Old Virginia. Col. Enyart did not meet Col. Piatt until they met on the Kanawha, on their return.

Col. Piatt’s command immediately proceeded thence to Boone Court House, and camped that night one mile beyond. The next day, after proceeding some sixteen miles,t hey came up with the advance guard of the enemy, consisting of cavalry, when a brisk fire was exchanged, the cavalry retreating. After the retreat of cavalry the battalion was immediately put in order of battle. The advance guard of fifteen men was led forward by Adj’t Clarke, proceeding along the road. Scouts were sent out on either side of the road to meet and repulse the sharp-shooters of the enemy.

The force proceeded in this order for about two miles, meeting the pickets of the enemy, exchanging shots with them incessantly, and driving them back with increased confusion at each charge.

Being unable to ascertain the position of the rebels, the entire force halted for a few moments, and Col. Piatt rode in advance and took observations with his glass, but could not ascertain their force and position, as it was covered with a thick growth of underbrush. After these observations a command was issued to forward the column. The scouts moved on the rapidity and enthusiasm, the main body moving up the narrow road cautiously and firmly. The fire continued to increase, and shots were rapidly exchanged from the right and left with the enemy, until our advanced guard reached within sixty yards of their main force. The column was some eighty yards from the enemy when they received a perfect volley of fire upon their right, indicating that the rebels were in force in that direction. Company “A,” commanded by Capt. Rathbone, was ordered to deploy as skirmishers to the right, up the side of the mountain, and if possible to flank the enemy on the left. Company “C,” commanded by Capt. Miller, was ordered to the right, up a similar mountain, to flank the enemy on their left. Company “I,” commanded by Capt. Anderson, was ordered directly up the ravine, on the left. In this position he drew the concentrated fire of the rebels upon his company, who made use of the knowledge thus obtained by rapidly charging upon and destroying the enemy’s breastworks. The center moved directly up the road. With this disposition of the forces, Col. Piatt routed them from their confusion. Capt. Anderson was the first to mount their breastworks, his men following him in the face of a terrible fire without flinching or confusion.

As Capt. Anderson sealed the breastwork, Capt. Miller closed upon the left and Capt. Rathbone came in upon the right, his men crying “Zouave!” The main column moving up the road in double quick–until they were brought to a temporary halt by obstructions placed in the road by the enemy.

The rebels, terrified by the strange bravery and almost wild enthusiasm that was exhibited by each advancing column, ran in confusion, leaving their dead, wounded, clothing, guns, horses, &c., making their escape by Capt. Rathbone’s right; his company being too far up the mountain to cut off their retreat. Capt. West, commanding company F, was detailed to scour the mountain on the west, on the left of the road. Capt. O.P. Evans on the west side of the mountain, on the right side of the road. Capt. Herman Evans, commanding Company H, on the east side of the mountain, on the left of the road.

Each of these companies moved with dispatch, yet such was the knowledge of the rebels of teh by-paths in the mountains, and belonging to the “F.F.V.’s,” and having been drilled at running all summer, that but two were captured.

Among interesting objects captured was a genuine secession flag, captured by Lieut. Brown.

The enemy’s loss was thirty killed and fifty wounded.

We regret to know that four of our men were killed and eight wounded.

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt's Zouaves Soldiers Photo 2.jpg

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt’s Zouaves, Soldiers. Here’s a link to Captain T.W. Rathbone’s Civil War diary: http://resources.ohiohistory.org/ohj/browse/displaypages.php?display[]=0071&display[]=33&display[]=56

Burlington (IA) Weekly Hawk-Eye, 12 October 1861

The fight at Chapmansville was a sharp and bloody affair. Five of Piatt’s Zouaves were killed. The rebels lost thirty-five killed.

IMG_2235.JPG

Part of the Kanawha Gap Battle Site, Chapmanville, Logan County, WV, 9 June 2018.

National Republican (Washington, DC), 17 October 1861

The thirty-fourth regiment (first Zouaves) have been actively engaged since they came to the Kanawha Valley. Since the glorious victory they won near Chapmansville where the rebel commander, Colonel Davis, was mortally wounded, the Union sentiment has advanced on the Cole River. Two companies have been organized, and are ready to go to work to defend their own homes and give the organized regiments an opportunity to advance into the heart of the enemy’s country.

IMG_2254.JPG

Part of the Kanawha Gap Battle Site, Chapmanville, Logan County, WV, 9 June 2018.

Cincinnati (OH) Daily Press, 22 October 1861

Captain H.C. Evans, of Piatt’s Zouave Regiment, yesterday called in our office and exhibited a Secesh flag, captured at the Chapmansville fight, on the 24th ult.

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt's Zouaves Soldiers Photo

34th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Piatt’s Zouaves, Soldiers.

Clarksville (TN) Chronicle, 25 October 1861

The Fight in Logan County, Va.

[From the Richmond Whig of the 15th.]

We yesterday published the Yankee account of a battle in Logan county, which as usual, was manufactured out of whole cloth. The following are the facts as given by the South-western Times, (Tazewell county) of the 10th inst.:

From Samuel Smoot, Esq., of Boone county, who was in the fight, we learn the following particulars of the battle near Chapmanville, Logan county, on the 25th ult: The Yankees numbered 700, and commenced the attack upon our troops–the Logan militia–in a low gap between Guyandotte river and Big Creek, where they were engaged in raising a temporary breastwork. Our troops numbered 220, but there were only about 80 of them engaged in the fight. They were commanded by Col. J.W. Davis, of Greenbrier, a brave and gallant officer, who was severely, but not dangerously wounded, in the arm and breast. As soon as it became known that Col. Davis was wounded, the militia commenced a retreat. The commanding officer of the Lincoln troops afterwards confessed to Col. Davis, who was taken prisoner, that at the same moment a portion of the Yankees were running, and that one more round would have completely dispersed them.

The loss of the Yankees, by their own confession to Col. Davis, was 40 killed and a number wounded; among the former were four Union men, all of whom are represented by the Yankees to be most arrant thieves and cowards. Our loss was two killed and three or four wounded, besides Col. Davis, whose valuable services are at present lost to the Confederacy, being paroled by the enemy.

On the following day our scouts killed one of their pickets, and wounded another, at a point about half way between Logan Court House and Chapmanville, promising to give them particular thunder before daylight next morning. This with some news from a lady on the road, and some account of the militia of the surrounding counties, found on the person of Col. Davis, caused a hasty stampede for their headquarters, in the valley of the Kanawha. It seems that high water, bad roads, nor anything else could impede their rapid flight. They tore down a meeting house in Boone county to make rafts whereon to cross the river. They drowned two of their wounded, lost a wagon containing their entire stock of ammunition, and were fully persuaded that they were followed by two thousand cavalry, of which the Yankees in the West are about as fearful as their Eastern brothers are of masked batteries.

Upon the whole, we are much gratified at the result of this fight. It has, for the present, driven the cowardly thieves from the country, given renewed energy to the true patriots of Logan and the adjoining counties, fully convincing them that with the assistance of two or three hundred of their gallant friends in Tazewell county, they will be fully able to thrash any number that Gen. Cox or his friends shall dare to send against them.”

Note: An almost identical version of this story appeared in the Staunton (VA) Spectator on 22 October 1861.

IMG_7149.JPG

Record relating to the 129th Virginia Militia (Confederate), which was present at the Battle of Kanawha Gap.

Little Kanawha Lumber Company (1890)

28 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Guyandotte River, Logan, Timber, Wyoming County

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Appalachia, Guyandotte River, Guyandotte Valley, history, Island Creek, Little Kanawha Lumber Company, Logan, Logan County, logging, Ohio, Parkersburg, Pigeon Creek, Portsmouth, Rockhouse Fork, timber, timbering, Upper Pigeon, West Virginia, Wyoming County

Little Kanawha Lumber Company Letterhead 1890.jpg

The Little Kanawha Lumber Company of Portsmouth, Ohio, operated in the Guyandotte Valley of Logan County, WV. The Logan County Banner newspaper regularly updated readers of its activity.

Little Kanawha Lumber Company LCB 08.06.1891.JPG

Logan County Banner (Logan, WV), 6 August 1891.

Dr. Cecil L. Hudgins leaves Aracoma, WV (1890)

15 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Lincoln County Feud, Logan

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Doc Hudgins moves LCB 09.25.1890 1

Dr. Cecil L. Hudgins leaves Aracoma, Logan County (WV) Banner, 25 September 1890. Doc Hudgins treated the wound of Hollena Brumfield in September 1889.

In Search of Ed Haley 355

19 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Harts, Holden, Music

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Arkansas, Arkansas Traveler, Ashland, banjo, Brandon Kirk, Ed Haley, Ella Haley, fiddle, fiddler, fiddling, Grayson, Harts, history, Holden, Jim Tackett, John Hartford, John Tackett, Kentucky, Lincoln County, Logan County, Logan Court House, music, Ohio, Portsmouth, Red River, Reece Tackett, Trace Fork, West Fork, writing

The next day, Brandon and I visited Reece Tackett, a banjo-picker who lived in a nice yellow house just up West Fork. Reece was born in 1909 and raised around Grayson in eastern Kentucky. His grandfather, Jim Tackett, was a fiddler from the Red River area of Arkansas who played for square dances in large farmhouses. He taught Reece’s father, John Tackett, how to play the fiddle. Reece said his father played “the old way — not flashy.” He used a homemade fiddle and “had to go to pine trees to get rosin.” He moved to a farm about nine miles from Grayson, where he made fiddles and played close to home, never as far away as Portsmouth, Ohio.

Reece said he moved to Holden in Logan County when he was sixteen to work with his uncle and brother in the coalmines. He used to watch Ed Haley and his wife play “beautiful” tunes like “Arkansas Traveler” on weekends at the Logan Courthouse. He said Ed wasn’t a big man and had fingers “about like a lead pencil.” His wife played the mandolin.

“She was pretty good on her singing,” Reece said. “She was dressed like the real old ladies. She had the long dress on and the apron.”

Ella kept a cup fastened to herself somehow.

“I’ve tossed many a nickel and dime in their cup,” Reece said.

Sometimes, people would pretend to put money in their cup and then steal from it.

Ed was usually paid about ten or fifteen cents per tune. There were no dollars and most of the coal miners were paid in company script.

Reece said he moved to Harts in 1946 and had no idea that Ed was from Trace Fork or even lived in Ashland.

In Search of Ed Haley 313

02 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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Catlettsburg, Dinky Coffman, Ella Haley, history, John Hartford, John Simon, Kentucky, music, Ohio, Portsmouth, Portsmouth YMCA, writing

Early in June 1996, I received a letter from John Simon, which conveyed more information about John Lozier’s memories of Ed Haley. Basically, Lozier said he played music with Ed and Ella around 1932 at the YMCA in Portsmouth, Ohio. Dinky Coffman, who was in charge of the entertainment, hired the three musicians often. “Sometimes Dinky would also take them into the railroad yards to play for groups of men,” Simon wrote. “They got a couple dollars for each day’s entertainment.” At that time, Ed lived at Catlettsburg, Kentucky. “The Haleys later divorced but continued to live in the same house on separate ends and continued to perform together,” Simon wrote.

In Search of Ed Haley 306

16 Friday May 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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Ashland, Atlanta, Bert Layne, Bill Day, Blackberry Blossom, blind, Clayton McMichen, Dill Pickle Rag, Ed Haley, Ed Morrison, Ella Haley, fiddle, fiddlers, Gary, Goodnight Waltz, Grand Ole Opry, history, Indiana, Jesse Stuart, John Carson, Kentucky, Lowe Stokes, mandolin, music, Ohio, Over the Waves, Portsmouth, Riley Puckett, Slim Clere, South Charleston, South Shore, Sweet Bunch of Daisies, Theron Hale, Vanderbilt University, Wednesday Night Waltz, West Virginia, World War I, WSM

The next day, after a few hours of sleep at Wilson’s house, Brandon and I drove to see fiddler Slim Clere in South Charleston, West Virginia. Slim was born in Ashland around the time of the First World War and knew a lot about Ed. We were parked behind his two-story house and were unloading our “gear” when he appeared out of a back door and led us inside his house (past some type of home recording studio) and up a flight of stairs. We sat down in the living room where we met his wife, a vivacious middle-aged woman who fetched several scrapbooks at Slim’s request. We flipped through the pages while Slim told us about some of his early experiences.

“I knew Jesse Stuart in 1934,” he said. “He lived at South Shore, Kentucky, across the river from Portsmouth, Ohio. He went to Vanderbilt. I believe he did play football. He used to date Theron Hale’s daughter that used to be at WSM at the Grand Ole Opry. I thought maybe he might marry her but he didn’t. Well anyway, I went away. I left my home and went to Atlanta. Well I went to Gary, Indiana, and everywhere, and worked with Bert Layne and Riley Puckett and some of those old-timers. I knew old Fiddlin’ John Carson. I never did meet Lowe Stokes. He lost an arm in a hunting accident. At one time he was a better fiddle player than McMichen. But Mac come out of it. He really could play. I patterned a lot of my style after him.”

Slim pointed to a picture of himself in his youth and said, “That’s back when I had hair and teeth.”

I was anxious to talk about Ed, so I asked Slim if he could remember the first time he ever saw him.

“I grew up knowing him,” Slim said. “He used to come down to the Ashland Park there every Sunday and sit around and fiddle for nickels and dimes on a park bench and I’d sit on there and watch him play.”

Slim said Ed Haley, Ed Morrison, and Bill Day were his primary influences during his younger days in Ashland.

“He was hot stuff,” Slim said of Haley.

He described Ed as a “loner” but said his wife was always with him.

“The old lady chorded a taterbug mandolin,” he said.

Ed played on a little yellow fiddle, which he wouldn’t let anyone “get a hold of,” and kept a cup between his legs for money. Down at his feet on the ground was his old wooden case, “made like a coffin.”

How much would you have to put in the cup to get him to play a tune?

“Didn’t matter,” Slim said.

Could he tell how much you dropped into the cup?

“He’d know just to the tee what it was,” he said. “He could tell the difference between a penny and a dime.”

Would the length of how long he played the tune depend on how much you dropped in the cup?

“No, he liked to play.”

Slim and I got our fiddles out and played a lot of tunes — or parts of tunes — back and forth for about a half an hour. I wanted to know all about Ed’s technique and repertoire. Slim said he “cradled” his fiddle against his chest (“all the old-timers used to do that”) and held the bow way out on the end with his “thumb on the underneath part of the frog.” He moved very little when playing.

“The only action he had was in that arm…and it was smooth as a top,” Slim said. “He fingered his stuff out. He didn’t bow them out. He played slow and beautiful and got the melody out of it. Now, he could play stuff like ‘Dill Pickle Rag’ where you had to cross them strings and that ‘Blackberry Blossom’ was one of his favorites. He played ‘Goodnight Waltz’, ‘Wednesday Night Waltz’. I don’t think ‘The Waltz You Saved For Me’ had been invented yet. He played ‘Over the Waves’ and ‘Sweet Bunch of Daisies’. He didn’t double-stop it, though.”

In Search of Ed Haley 298

28 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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Abe Keibler, Asa Neal, Big Indian Hornpipe, Big Rock Candy Mountain, Birdie, Charley Keibler, Ed Haley, Ella Haley, fiddlers, fiddling, Greenup, Grey Eagle, Henry Keibler, history, Jim Keibler, John Hartford, John Lozier, Kentucky, Morris Allen John Keibler, music, Ohio, Portsmouth, Portsmouth Airs, Pretty Polly, Roger Cooper, Sam Keibler, Turkey in the Straw, writing

As Abe and I fiddled the afternoon away, Roger Cooper and John Lozier showed up. In ensuing conversation, John mentioned to Abe that he didn’t remember his father, Jim. Abe said it was because his dad had died young.

“My uncle raised me from seven year old and raised Morris Allen from three months old,” he said.

Which uncle?

“Uncle John and Uncle Henry raised me,” he said.

I said to Abe, “How many fiddling Keiblers were there all told?”

“Well, there weren’t many — just that one generation,” he said. “John — that was the oldest — Charley — that was the next one — and my dad and Sam. Them was the four fiddlers.”

His mind was starting to pull out great memories.

“Grandpa wouldn’t allow them to bring a fiddle into the house to saw around on and learn and they got a hold of an old fiddle and took it out in the cornfield. And the three brothers, he kept seeing them going out and he told Grandma, ‘Them boys are into something. I’m gonna follow them and see what they’re into.’ So he goes out there and Uncle John — that was the best fiddler — he was a playing and my dad was a dancing and he said, ‘Well now, John, you can bring your fiddle into the house.’ He had learnt to play it then pretty good.”

I asked Abe where he first heard Ed play and he said, “Greenup, Kentucky. Up here at the county seat. He played around the courthouse there and people donated him money. He had a cup on the neck of his fiddle and they’d drop five-dollar bills in it. When that old mill was a running and whiskey was in, he’d come around there to that mill on payday and maybe take a thousand dollars away from there. I was about eighteen years old when I heard him. He was a good fiddler. He could play ‘Birdie’ and all that. Played it in C or G either one. He played and sung a lot of songs — ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’. He could play anything.”

Abe said he usually saw Ed at the courthouse on Labor Day or the Fourth of July. Ed always wore a hat and was dressed in a suit. He placed the fiddle under his chin, pulled a long bow and ran his fingers all up and down the neck of the fiddle. Abe said he “could play anything” but he only remembered “Grey Eagle”, “Big Indian Hornpipe”, “Portsmouth Airs”, and “Turkey in the Straw”. His wife normally sang while he played the fiddle, although he sang “Pretty Polly”. Abe never got to talk much to him because the crowds kept him so busy playing the fiddle.

I asked Abe if he ever played with Asa Neal and he said, “No, I never did play none with Asa but he was a pretty good fiddler. I remember when we first moved to Portsmouth in ’23, he couldn’t play nothing on the old Blues, but he got to be a pretty good fiddler. He used slip notes.”

Keiblers

27 Sunday Apr 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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Abe Keibler, Appalachia, Charley Keibler, family, fiddlers, history, John Keibler, life, music, Ohio, photos, Portsmouth

The Keibler family of Portsmouth, Ohio

The Keibler family of Portsmouth, Ohio

In Search of Ed Haley 297

27 Sunday Apr 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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Abe Keibler, banjo, Boatin' Up Sandy, Charley Keibler, Cold Frosty Morning, Cotton-Eyed Joe, fiddle, fiddlers, Germany, Girl With the Blue Dress On, guitar, history, Jim Keibler, John Keibler, Kentucky, Morris Allen, music, Ohio, Old Coon Dog, Parkersburg Landing, Portsmouth, Rye Whiskey, Sally Goodin, Sally Got Drunk on Irish Potatoes, South Shore, Stumptail Dolly, Susan's Gone to the Ball With Her Old Shoes On, We'll All Go to Heaven When the Devil Goes Blind, writing

Later that day, I went to see 88-year-old Abe Keibler in nearby South Shore, Kentucky. Abe was the last surviving member of the old fiddling Keiblers and a first cousin to fiddler Morris Allen, one of the sources for Parkersburg Landing.

“My grandfather, he was sixteen years old when he landed in here from Germany and he got a job out here at an old furnace,” Abe said. “He couldn’t even speak the language when he first come here, they said, and he didn’t play nothing.”

“Wow,” I said, “So fiddling started with your dad and uncles?”

“My uncles and dad, yeah,” Abe confirmed. “Jim was my dad’s name. He played a banjo — the old claw-hammer style.

Abe was raised up in a family of fiddlers, but he originally played the guitar. He began to play the fiddle at the age of 55. He wasted little time in showing me the old family fiddle, which he inherited from his uncle John Keibler. It was a good-looking instrument with a good tone, although the bridge was ready to collapse.

“Way back before I was born some fella came into Portsmouth when they had the old saloons in and he had this old fiddle and couldn’t play it,” Abe explained. “My uncle John, he seen that it was a good fiddle and he wanted to buy it and this guy wouldn’t talk about selling it. My uncle Charley, he was a left-handed fiddler. He said, ‘Now John, if you want that fiddle, I can buy it for ten dollars.’ So he bought it. It’s been in our family around ninety years or maybe close to a hundred.”

Abe said the old fiddle was hard to tune — it had seen some rough times.

“My uncle fell and busted the top all to pieces. I had a fella that made fiddles put that top off of another old fiddle on it. My uncle had patent keys put on it and I had them took out and wood keys put in it.”

I tuned the Keibler fiddle as best as I could, then reached it back with a request for a tune I’d heard Abe mention called “We’ll All Go to Heaven When the Devil Goes Blind”. He couldn’t remember it but said it was the same thing as “Stumptail Dolly”. He scratched out a melody in the key of G, then said, “Some of them called that the ‘Girl With the Blue Dress On’. ‘Old Coon Dog’ is all I ever heard it called.”

He also played “Boatin’ Up Sandy”, “Sally Goodin” (in G), “Rye Whiskey” (which he called “Cold Frosty Morning”), “Sally Got Drunk on Irish Potatoes”, “Cotton-Eyed Joe”, and “Susan’s Gone to the Ball With Her Old Shoes On” (key of G).

Every now and then, I joined in with my fiddle.

“I’m gonna learn you how to play a fiddle yet,” Abe said.

In Search of Ed Haley 296

26 Saturday Apr 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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A little later, I met John Lozier at Portsmouth. He was a real ball of energy. It was hard to believe that he was in his late eighties. I just sat back and listened to him talk about Ed.

“The first time I ever saw Ed Haley he was sitting on the street in a little old stool of a thing — him and his wife — had a little boy with him. They always kept a little boy with them — one of the kids that would lead them here and there and yander. And I didn’t know this but a fella by the name of Charlie Mershon was there and the Mershons are all fiddlers. They live over here in Ohio somewhere. And Charlie went home and told his dad, ‘I heard a man that could out-fiddle you.’ He went over and he had to take his hat off to Ed. But Ed had long, slim fingers like a woman and he played so soft you just had to listen. He was a great fiddler.”

I asked John to tell me about playing with Ed at the Portsmouth YMCA.

“A fella by the name of Dinky Coffman was the head of the entertainment committee at the N&W over here in Portsmouth,” he said. “Well, whenever Dink Coffman would want us to have a little shindig or whatever you want to call it he would take us over in the shops at the N&W at noon. They was about seven hundred people worked over there at one time. And nickels and dimes — whatever they could get — that’s the way Ed Haley made his living. It had to be a rough life. Of course, back in the twenties you make a dollar, honey, you could wrap it ’round a corncob and be nigger rich. And the last time I played with Ed Haley was at the YMCA at the C&O Russell yards.”

I asked John how Ed looked back then and he said, “Ed was a little old short pot-bellied feller. He had an old brown hat on as well as I can remember and just an old brown coat and a pair of britches. He didn’t dress like he was going out on vaudeville stage or anything. His wife would take Braille with her and read Braille for a little extra entertainment. She played a banjo-uke — eight string, short neck — but she just played chords. Mostly me and her would play and she would second after me. One time, we went up to the Russell yards at the YMCA up there and she accompanied me on the piano. I never knew any of the kids.”

John asked to see my fiddle, so I lifted it out of the case and reached it to him. He said to his wife, “Oh, Lord. Look at this. Isn’t that done pretty? My granddad made fiddles and he used three things: a wood chisel, a pocketknife, and a piece of window glass. All he bought was the fingerboard and the apron. And he made little wood clamps and wedges. He wouldn’t let me pick up the fiddle — afraid I’d drop it and break the neck out of it. And I started playing old fiddle tunes on a harp.”

Not long after that, John pulled out his harmonica and played “Devil’s Dream”, “Portsmouth Airs”, “Birdie”, “Girl I Left Behind Me”, and “Ragtime Annie”.

I joined in every now and then, which prompted him to say things like, “You’re putting something extra in there,” or “You missed a note. See that?”

To call him feisty would be a huge understatement.

At one point, he said, “I’m trying to tell you something. You’re gonna be here all day. This is my day.”

A little later he said, “I don’t know if you know what you’re doing or not, but you’re putting a few little slip notes in there. You put more notes in that than what Ed would have put in it. You’ve been listening to Clark Kessinger records.”

Uh-oh.

John opened up a whole new facet of our conversation by mentioning Clark Kessinger, who he’d heard play one time at the West End Jubilee on Market Street in Portsmouth.

“Clark Kessinger was a hard loser in a contest,” John said. “If he lost, he’d just stomp and carry on something awful.”

Clark came to Portsmouth and played a lot because of the great number of musicians in the town during the Depression.

“I come into Portsmouth about the time that Roy Rogers left here,” John said. “Now he had a cousin that was a better guitar player than he was: Chet. He had a little neck like a turkey. And him and Dominique Bennett, Clayt Fry, Elmer Lohorn… Elmer Lohorn was the only man I ever seen that played ‘companion time’ on the guitar. It was a double time — everything he done was doubled. And Harry Frye was a fine tenor banjo player. We had one guitar player by the name of Kid Lewis — was a smart-alec — and he could play classical stuff. But they just sat around and played cards and drank moonshine and got good. Asa Neal was, I’d say, our champion fiddler around here. Asa Neal bought ever record that Clark Kessinger ever put out.”

At that moment, John Simon, a local folklorist, showed up with Roger Cooper, a Buddy Thomas protégé. I got Roger to play the fiddle while I seconded him on my banjo. John Lozier jumped in when we weren’t playing something “just right.” At some point, Jason Lovins, a local newspaper reporter, dropped in with a camera and asked a few questions. He promised to plug my interest in Ed’s life in the Community Common.

In Search of Ed Haley 285

10 Thursday Apr 2014

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley, Music

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Abe Keibler, Adams County, Asa Neal, banjo, Blue Creek, Charlie Fry, Clark Kessinger, Ed Haley, Ella Haley, fiddle, fiddling, Great Depression, Harry Frye, history, John Hartford, John Keibler, John Lozier, Kentucky, moonshine, music, Natchee the Indian, Norfolk and Western Railroad, Ohio, Portsmouth, Sam Cox, South Portsmouth, West End Jubilee, Winding Down the Sheets, writing

About two weeks later, I called John Lozier, the harp player in South Portsmouth, Kentucky. I wanted to hear more about his memories of Ed in Portsmouth, Ohio.

“That there’s where I met Ed Haley at — sitting on Market Street back in about ’28 or ’29 playing for nickels and dimes,” he said. “And his wife had a banjo-uke of some kind. It was about an eight-stringed instrument, but it wasn’t a ukelele and it wasn’t a banjo. And she was blind. They raised five children.”

I had some very specific questions about Ed’s fiddling, which John answered in short measure. I wondered, for instance, if he was a loud or soft fiddler.

“When Ed played, he played so soft and so low that you had to listen,” he said. “It was just like pouring water through a funnel.”

Where did Ed Haley put the fiddle?

“He put it up under his chin.”

Did he play a long bow or a short bow?

“I think he used all of his bow. In other words, he didn’t waste any of it. He played an awful lot of hornpipes.”

I asked John about Asa Neal, the great Portsmouth fiddler whose skill was preserved only on a few cassette tapes floating amongst an “underground” network of old-time music enthusiasts.

“Asa Neal was a good fiddler and he copied after Clark Kessinger,” John said. “He lived over here in Portsmouth and worked on a section on the N&W. I don’t know how he played as well as he did — fingers clamped around them old pick handles all day long. He was kindly rough and a little loud, but he could play a lot of fiddle. Lord, I’ve eat at his house many a time.”

I asked John if Ed knew Asa Neal and he said yes, then added, “Ed Haley and them used to get in a contest when they used to have the West End Jubilee down on Market Street in Portsmouth and Clark Kessinger would come down. Someone asked Charlie Fry one time, said, ‘What are you gonna play?’ and he told him. He said, ‘Well, Clark Kessinger’s gonna do that.’ He said, ‘That’s all right — I’ll use that rolling bow on him.’ Charlie Fry, he had a boy that was a tenor banjo player and he was good. His name was Harry Frye.”

John seemed to regard the Keiblers — who were apparently his kinfolk — as the best among local fiddlers.

“I remember Uncle John Keibler,” he said. “Uncle John Keibler was the best fiddler they was in the country. He was another Ed Haley — he played all of his life. ‘Winding Down the Sheets’, now there’s an old Keibler tune. Did you know there’s one of the Keibler boys up here yet left that plays? Abe Keibler. Lives right above me about four mile in a housing project up here at South Shore. He’s got sugar awful bad, but he’s one of the younger ones of the old set. He’s one of the boys of the seven I told you about and they all played. Now one of them has got the old fiddle that Grandpa brought over here from Germany. Made in 1620 or 1720. A Stradivarius. Abe’s boy’s got it.”

I asked John if Ed knew the Keiblers and he said, “I don’t know whether he did or not. He knew the Mershon boys that lived over on Pond Creek and around over in there. They was a bunch of Mershon boys that played fiddle and banjo there. Some of them were pretty good and some was rough. They was good for a square dance, but they couldn’t play with Ed Haley.”

John was on a roll: “At one time, they was more good musicians around Portsmouth — during the Depression — and they wasn’t no work and they just sat around and played cards and drank a little moonshine and got good. None of them ever went anyplace. And they was just some great fiddlers. Sam Cox, he was a banjo player. You know Natchee the Indian? He lived down around Blue Creek somewhere in Adams County. He’d play the bow over the fiddle and under and upside down and lay down… But Ed Haley never did do that. Ed Haley would just sit and roll it out just as smooth — just spit it right out on the street for ya. Smoothest fiddler I ever heard.”

In Search of Ed Haley 166

06 Friday Sep 2013

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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Allie Trumbo, Ella Haley, Florida, history, Kentucky, life, Luther Trumbo, Mont Spaulding, Morehead, Ohio, Plant City, Portsmouth, writing

Ella was in Morehead as late as June 1911, where she received a card from “C.E.G.” reading, “I am living high. I go riding every day with my friend, Mrs. Mell Washington.”

Later in the fall of 1911, Ella was once again at 115 Woodland Avenue in Lexington, Kentucky. While there, one card was sent to her reading, “Well Ella, I got your card. Was glad to hear you Was all Well. Luther is Still here. Will Stay till you come home.”

Ella was back in Morehead by July 1912, where she received a card from Mont and Jim Spaulding postmarked in Richmond, Virginia. I wondered, was this the Mont Spaulding who was blind and played the fiddle around Kermit, West Virginia? In September, Mont and Dora Spaulding wrote her from Charleston, West Virginia:  “hello Ella. Did you get the card I send you from Va?”

“M. Spaulding” wrote to her again in November (although in a totally different handwriting), this time from Norton, Virginia. “It might be possible that my Daughter and I will see you about the last of this month.” The Spauldings apparently made the trip because Dora wrote Ella early in December, again from Charleston: “certainly did enjoy my short stay in your town.”

Ella’s postcards for the first part of 1913 were primarily from her brother Luther and were postmarked from Asheville, Knoxville, and Indianapolis.

In May, some friends sent her a postcard that read: “We would like very much for you to come up Sat. night and play for us. Come to stay all night if you can. Let us know if you will come.” At that time, Ella’s address was Clearfield, Kentucky, but she was in Morehead briefly the next month.

In September, she was in Farmers, Kentucky — her location when she became pregnant with Ralph. While in Farmers, she received a card from “Sissie” postmarked in Hitchins, Kentucky, reading “I am so Lonesome.”

In May of 1914, Allie and Texana wrote her in care of C.D. Davis.

“We are keeping house here in West Morehead and want you to come up and See us at once So Bring your Harp and harp rack with you So we can have some music So let us know When you are coming and we will meet you.”

In August 1914 Allie wrote to her in care of R.A. Thomas from Loveland, Kentucky.

“Well, Ella, I am thinking about getting married Sometime. I think I will and then I change my mind.”

In the next several months, Ella moved from Farmers to 1124 Gay Street in Portsmouth, Ohio. At that location, which is now a DMV parking lot, she received frequent postcards from a mysterious “R.B.” in Plant City, Florida. Only two of the cards were postmarked. In June of 1915, R.B. wrote: “Well, the Sun is Getting hot as H. Down hear.” In August: “I am at Cincinnati to Night But Don’t know whear I will Be to morrow.”

None of the remaining cards from R.B. are postmarked, making it impossible to arrange them chronologically. Here are some of the more interesting ones:

“My Dear friend. You Do Eny Thing with The money you want to. I will Try and Send you Some more wedensday if nothing happens. Don’t forget your Florida friend.”

“This is Tuesday Eve, and no Letter yet. Don’t no what to think if you are mad Rite and tell me what you got mad about. I am going to Kentucky next week.”

“Dear friend, I am Disipointed this Evening By Not getting a Letter. Hoping you haven’t Forgotten me.”

“I will Rite you a few Lines as I promest you. I guess you wish I wood quit Riting So much. Yes, Ella I wood Bee more Then Pleased to get That Picture we was talking about. I am Sorrow you are not well. Say Ella if you can Rite to me three times a week as I am So Lonesom hear. you have no Idea what I have to put up with.”

“I am going to do the Best I can till I can get away But what Ever you Do Don’t change Bording houses. Now you may think I am crazy But I no what I am talking about. I will Rite a Point Letter the first chance I have hoping to hear from you again Soon.”

“Yes Ella I guess you are tard of hearing that word Some Day But Don’t get worried I am going to Do the Best I can.”

“I am so Proud you think of me as often as you Do for I am so Lonesom hear.”

“I think you ort to Rite oftener Then you Do. Please tell me why you Don’t. I am worrying my Life away Faster Then Eny one on Earth. So Rite and cheer me up all you can.”

“This Leaves me feeling Bad This Evening. I was Expectin a Letter But got Disipointed. I will Start you That money Saturday if Nothing happens.”

“Why Don’t you Rite oftener. this is Tuesday Evening and I haven’t had a Letter since Saturday. I guess you are about to Forget me.”

“Some one Swears Thay are going Back to Ky. and I wood Be glad to get Rid of Them So keep quite.”

“Yes, Ella I am going to come Back Soon. I want to get a way From hear By the 20th of July if I can. Ella I can’t tell you wheather or not Maudie and Vada Noes eny thing about what. Guess at the Rest.”

“Say Ella the theater is Right By the Post office hear and the Piano is Playing Silver threads among the Gold. you can guess how I feal. I get so nervous Some times I can’t hardly Liv.”

In Search of Ed Haley 163

03 Tuesday Sep 2013

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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Appalachia, Ashland, Cincinnati, Ed Haley, fiddle, history, John Hartford, Lawrence Haley, life, music, Nashville, Portsmouth, U.S. South

Once I returned to Nashville, I called Lawrence Haley, who was in the mood to reminisce.

“Me and Pop hitch-hiked to Cincinnati out of Portsmouth a time or two,” he said. “We took old 52. And we’d had about three rides to get there.”

I asked him if Ed took his fiddle on those trips and he said, “Yeah, if he thought he was gonna be in a little bit other than country settings, he would put it in the case. But most of the time, he’d just carry it in his hand, tucked under his arm, maybe, with the bow in his hand.”

I wondered if Ed packed any extra bags on the road and Lawrence said, “Mostly just the clothes on his back, unless he was going on an extended trip — then he’d pack him a suitcase. He’d, of course, fill it up about a third with his homemade tobacco. His own cure — apple or peach or something. He’d take him some of that with him and off he’d go.”

Lawrence Haley passed away on February 3, 1995, the 44th anniversary of his father’s death.

In Search of Ed Haley 113

19 Sunday May 2013

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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Abe Keibler, blind, Catlettsburg, Ed Haley, fiddler, Greenup, history, Kentucky, music, New Boston, Ohio, Portsmouth, writing

A few days later, I called Abe Keibler, “last of the old Keibler fiddlers” in the Portsmouth area. The Keiblers had been top fiddlers in that part of the country according to Roger Cooper.

“I didn’t play with him, but I heard him play all the time,” Abe said of Ed. “That was back in the twenties when I was a hearing him. I’m 86. I was about eighteen or nineteen year old the first time I heard him. I saw him at Greenup, the county seat of Greenup County, on Labor Days and Fourth of July. He was on the courthouse ground playing around there. I remember one time he was playing on one side of the courthouse and they was a church group started up right behind him and he just stopped right then. He said, ‘I ain’t got nothing again’ the church, but this fiddling don’t go with church.’ And he went around on the other side away from them, you know. He was a nice old fella.”

I asked Abe to describe Ed and he said, “He dressed comely like. He had to wear a suit of clothes. He wore a hat. He was blind, I guess, about all his life. He knowed your voice if he’d ever talked to you. I remember one time a doctor up there came around and asked Ed to play ‘Turkey in the Straw’ and he said, ‘Hello, Doc! I ain’t seen you in a long time.’ Yeah, he was a good old man. He had the fiddle under his chin and held the bow back down there on the end. He was all over that neck a playing. And if you asked him to play a tune – I don’t care, maybe half a dozen – he’d play what you asked for. His wife played the mandolin and sung with him. They sung a lot of them old tunes back there. ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’ was his main tune – he sung and played it on the fiddle. He played them old-time fiddle tunes. He mostly played down in the standard and in the ‘C’. He played ‘Sally Goodin’ and all them old tunes back there. ‘Turkey in the Straw’. He played some hornpipes, like ‘Big Indian Hornpipe’ and ‘Grey Eagle’.”

I had a lot of detailed questions for Abe about things Ed might have said when he was playing on the street, but he said Ed never got time to talk much.

“When I was around him, they was a crowd there and they kept him busy,” he said. “Quick as he could play one, somebody else had one in. They just kept him a playing all the time. He’d have a big crowd around him. Over there at New Boston, he had big crowds over there. He lived in Catlettsburg but he come down to New Boston when the mill was a running full and played there on them waiting stations and a lot of them mill-men come out there and they give him lots of money. He always had a cup on the neck of his fiddle and they dropped dollars. Back there then, why, they’d just throw their money in to him – five dollars, tens, and everything – and they was big money there then. He made a lot of money back in them days.”

In Search of Ed Haley 112

18 Saturday May 2013

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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fiddler, harmonica, history, John Harrod, John Hartford, John Lozier, Kentucky, music, Ohio, Portsmouth, South Portsmouth, U.S. South, writing

A few days later, I called John Lozier, a harpist in South Portsmouth, Kentucky. I could tell right away that he was feisty. When I mentioned Ed’s name, he said, “Ed Haley played so soft and so smooth you had to listen when he played. Well, that’s about all I can tell you ol’ buddy.”

Of course, I wanted more.

I pressed John by asking where he first saw Haley.

“Sitting on Market Street over here in Portsmouth, Ohio, playing for nickels and dimes back in the twenties or early thirties,” he said. “That’s the way he made a living. Raised five children. Then after that him and his wife separated. Now, can you imagine that?”

John seemed so sure of his memories that I asked him about Ed’s repertoire.

“John Harrod always had me to play one tune — nobody else played it,” he said. “My grandfather knew it, called ‘Portsmouth Airs’. I play all the fiddle tunes on a harp. My grandfather made fiddles and played fiddles but he never would allow me to pick it up. He’s afraid I’d drop and break the neck out of it. So when I was three years old I started playing fiddle tunes — so they tell me. I’m 85…or will be.”

I wondered what the secret was to getting that old and being as healthy as he sounded to be and he said, “Ah, boy. I work every day at something. I got a garden here. I’ve got out a hundred pounds of taters and I planted some beans and my cabbage is out and I move around a little bit every day.”

I had more questions.

Did Ed play a lot of waltzes?

“He could play anything,” John answered immediately.

Did you ever hear him sing?

“If he ever sung a song, I never knew it.”

How did he hold his fiddle?

“Very loosely,” John said, confirming Mona’s memory.

John asked me if I ever got up to his part of the country, then said, “Well, old buddy, I’m fixing to go to church and it’s good talking to ya. I live at South Portsmouth. If you’re ever up in here come around and let’s take a look at one another.”

In Search of Ed Haley 111

17 Friday May 2013

Posted by Brandon Ray Kirk in Ed Haley

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Abe Keibler, Asa Neal, Charley Keibler, fiddle, fiddler, Germany, Henry Keibler, history, John Keibler, Kentucky, music, Portsmouth, writing

After listening to the Lozier tape, I played a 1992 interview/jam session with Abe Keibler, last of the old fiddling Keiblers in South Shore, Kentucky.

“The first Keibler to come into this area was my grandfather, Henry C. Keibler,” Abe said. “He come here when he was 21 years old from Germany. I don’t know whether he played any music or not but they was some good ones in the uncles that raised me. The fiddlers was John and Sam and Henry and Charley but Uncle John Keibler, he was the best fiddler in the whole bunch. He won contest after contest. [When he was young and learning to play a fiddle,] his dad wouldn’t let him bring it into the house. My aunt told me he didn’t want to hear him screeking around on it, you know, so he took it out in the cornfield. My grandpap said, ‘Well, them boys is into something. I’m gonna slip out there to see what they’re into.’ And he sneaked out there and the old son was a picking the banjo, and him the fiddle and some a dancing. Then he said to him, ‘Well John, you can bring your fiddle in home now.’ Then he brought it in and it didn’t bother him no more. He was playing then good.”

Abe said, “Then I had an uncle, Charley ‘Shorty’ Keibler — they said he was an awful good left-handed fiddler, but I never heard him, see. Uncle Charley died young. He’s the one bought that old fiddle that I was raised with. Uncle Charley lived over in Portsmouth. Back then, they had old saloons and my other uncle John he tried to buy [this fiddle from a man there]. But [this man, he wouldn’t sell it to John. He] told Uncle Charley, he said, ‘Now, Charley, if you want that fiddle I’ll sell it to you for ten dollars.’ Well, he bought it [from the man] and Uncle John give him the money and he kept it over the years. He wouldn’t let me touch that fiddle though ’til I was sixteen years old. He didn’t want to hear me jigging around on it. He thought you ought to already know how to play, I guess. [Uncle John], he had a stroke and he tried to tune it up one day and he couldn’t tune it. And he told his nephew, said, ‘Take that fiddle and give it to Henry.’ Uncle John died on September 6, 1932. Then in ’55, I think it was, Uncle Henry said to his sister, ‘I’m gonna give old Abraham this fiddle. Next time he comes down I’ll give it to him.’ I went down and he said, ‘There’s the fiddle. She’s yours. Now, do whatever you want with it.’ He couldn’t play much then. He was sick. Henry died in 1959.”

On the tape, someone asked Abe about the Glenn Brothers, who I had heard about in connection with Clark Kessinger.

“Abe Glenn, I was named after him,” he said. “Bob Glenn, they said he was a real fiddler. I never heard either one — that was before my time. They said he was really about as good as you could find.”

Abe also remembered Asa Neal.

“When he first come here to play, he couldn’t play a hornpipe nor nothing — just them old blues. When I was about sixteen year old, he come there to my uncle’s and he learnt to play all of these old tunes. He used a lot of slip notes but he could get them in there, boy. He learnt to be a good fiddler, ol’ Asa.”

On the tape, Abe mostly played old standards — “Sally Goodin”, “Turkey in the Straw”, “Liza Jane” — but every now and then he came out with some obscure tunes, like “Portsmouth Airs”, “Headwaters of Tygart” and “Old Coon Dog”.

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Appalachia Ashland Big Creek Big Ugly Creek Blood in West Virginia Brandon Kirk Cabell County cemeteries Chapmanville Charleston civil war coal Confederate Army crime culture Ed Haley Ella Haley Ferrellsburg feud fiddler fiddling genealogy Green McCoy Guyandotte River Harts Harts Creek Hatfield-McCoy Feud history Huntington John Hartford Kentucky Lawrence Haley life Lincoln County Lincoln County Feud Logan Logan Banner Logan County Milt Haley Mingo County music Ohio photos timbering U.S. South Virginia Wayne County West Virginia Whirlwind writing

Blogs I Follow

  • OtterTales
  • Our Appalachia: A Blog Created by Students of Southern West Virginia CTC
  • Piedmont Trails
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OtterTales

Writings from my travels and experiences. High and fine literature is wine, and mine is only water; but everybody likes water. Mark Twain

Our Appalachia: A Blog Created by Students of Southern West Virginia CTC

This site is dedicated to the collection, preservation, and promotion of history and culture in Appalachia.

Piedmont Trails

Genealogy and History in North Carolina and Beyond

Truman Capote

A site about one of the most beautiful, interesting, tallented, outrageous and colorful personalities of the 20th Century

Appalachian Diaspora

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