I have much family history in Fredericksburg, VA, but did not find the town as charming as Lexington. Although replete with old buildings, Fredericksburg's downtown is infiltrated by modern culture and crowds. We stayed one night at the Richard Johnston Inn, built in the late 1700's. Our room was probably once a kitchen, with a large space for a fireplace, a brick floor and walls, wood beam ceiling, antique furniture, and even a tray with brandy for sipping.
On Sunday morning, September 10, I rose early and slipped outside into the courtyard. The temperature was in the low fifties, and at 7:30 am I sat under the umbrella of a little iron table behind the cream-colored brick building. I was surrounded by pink and yellow mums, the only sounds being crickets chirping and a small fountain bubbling. The friendly gray and white inn-cat greeted me on this crisp, sunny day. I took all of this down in my journal as I sipped hot coffee and spent some moments in Ephesians, remembering my acceptance and blamelessness in Christ.
The night before, I had prepared for what was to follow this quiet time in the courtyard: a visit to my enchanting ancestor, James Keith Boswell. My preparation came in the form of reacquainting myself with the diary he kept the last four months of his life, in the winter and spring of 1863.
"Jimmie" Boswell was the first cousin of my third great-grandmother, Margaret ("Madge") Bispham Skinker McIlhany. His mother, Lucy Steptoe Skinker Boswell (1809-1852), was the sister of Madge's father, James Keith Skinker (1818-1900). Their parents were William Skinker and Harriet A. Keith. Jimmie Boswell (1838-1863) was born in Warrenton, VA. According to Thomas Keith Skinker's Samuel Skinker and His Descendants (1923), he worked as a civil engineer, and during the Civil War, was appointed Captain of Engineers and in early 1862 was made chief of engineers on Gen. Stonewall Jackson's staff.
Dr. John William McIlhany, my third great-grandfather (husband of Madge, Jimmie's cousin), penned a letter to his wife on Monday, May 4, 1863. He writes, "I can be found by sending to Jimmie Boswell--at Gen'l Jackson's...Jimmie was well when I saw him a day or two since..." Dr. McIlhany had no idea that two days before, on May 2, 1863, Boswell had been fatally shot in the Battle of Chancellorsville, by the same volley fired by the 18th North Carolina Infantry that ended up killing General Jackson as well.
Captain James Keith Boswell
A fine description of Boswell is found in Skinker's book: "...a character of extraordinary piety, absolute devotion to duty and no less absolute devotion to the fair sex, all combined in one, in the most unusual manner." One cannot read his diary without being moved by his chivalry, his stand for good, and broken heart over a lady who wouldn't return his affections."
I could read Jimmie's diary over and over and not grow tired of it. He relates military information as well as details of time spent with friends and family members. He describes a horrific episode in which another man ends his life over the fact that a lady might choose Boswell over him. Boswell refuses to mention the man's name, and is discreet about anything that could disparage the situation. His character is highlighted in his writing.
Some of my favorite diary excerpts include:
"On my way home called on Miss Rodes, who is an extremely pleasant lady, fine looking, with the air of one who has seen much society. I doubt not I shall like her very much." Jan. 4, 1863
"I met Wade McBride, who informed me that Joe [Pollard] was killed at Murphreesboro. Most earnestly do I pray that this may not be so. If this sad news be true I am the last of the three to whom dear Cousin Jennie used to say she looked for the improvement of Montgomery society. Poor Tom Scott was killed at Seven Pines, Joe at Murphreesboro, and God only knows if the third may be spared the same fate. O, war, how terrible a scourge thou art! The most beloved seem always first to fall. Day after day I hear of the death of some dear friend. How strange that these things impress us so little, knowing how precarious our situation is." Jan. 14, 1863
"Took breakfast with Taylor Scott, and remained whilst he wrote a letter to his sweet wife. O, happy man, can I ever hope to be so blessed?" Jan. 15, 1863
"...all cheerful and pleasant, except that Mr. ---- and I got into a heated discussion on the propriety of allowing children to play cards at home." Jan. 20, 1863
"This has been the most eventful day of my life, one which I shall ever remember with intense horror...I felt from his tone and look that he loved her, and saw in me a successful rival. The impressions of a jealous mind are by no means reliable...Oh! what intense feeling did her countenance express. I saw that she knew the worst and the incentive. Oh! what agony I felt at that moment 'The green-eyed monster has possession of him; ran through my brain like molten lava. I felt that I was the cause of this terrific scene. Oh! at that moment I would have given worlds to have been anywhere rather than in this house...I went down to try and comfort Cousin F., though the excited state of my own feeling rendered me but a poor comforter...Oh! the horrors of that night. I would not spend another such for all the world could offer...Dr. H. came in about 11o.c., a miserable caricature on humanity. He made a remark most lightly, which...made me hate him intensely. I could have laid him senseless on the floor..." Jan. 21, 1863, referring to the night when his rival for a lady's heart shot himself in an upstairs room during a visit in which this lady, Miss Sophia deButts, seemed to choose Boswell over the other man.
"Oh! how my heart smote me that I should in any way have been instrumental in casting a shade over the brow of her whom I love more dearly than life itself." Jan. 23, 1863
"Oh, that I could read her heart!...I took her soft, cold hand in mine, begged that she would pardon me, but I must know my fate. I have loved you for years. I never loved another, and never can. Your bright image has been with me in the crash of battle...Can you learn to love me? It can never be...then farewell forever! I returned to the parlor and hastily took my leave of my dear friends, once more pressed her cold hand, rushed into the snow, mounted my horse and hastened away." Jan. 28, 1863
"Why am I such a slave to beauty? How often are the noblest qualities with can adorn human nature hid under an unprepossessing exterior!" Feb. 9, 1863
"Passed over the battle ground of Fredericksburg; a more perfect scene of desolation I have never witnessed. This region will not recover from the effect of this war for half a century." Feb. 10, 1863
"During the year I have been present in ten hard-fought and bloody battles...I have been once with Gen'l Jackson when he was defeated and nine times when he was victorious; in some of these battles I have been exposed to death in all its forms...I have heard the wild cry of victory as it rose above the roar of the cannon and musket. I have seen the field strewn with thousands of corpses, both of friend and foe...I have seen our noble leader, Gen'l Lee, again and again on the field of battle, and never have I seen him aught but the true and noble Christian gentleman and soldier...One year ago I was full of life and animation, hope dressed the future in 'coleur de rose,' all my dreams of happiness were cherished as though I were sure of their realization." Feb. 25, 1863
"Mrs. Gwathmey regaled me with buttermilk and cornbread, which I enjoyed very much. I like the little widow." Mar. 3, 1863
"What a pity it is that all ladies do not dress with the exquisite taste of Miss N.M. I wish I did not notice dress so much, for if I ever see a young lady dressed unbecomingly, my ideas of her are always connected with an ugly dress." May 8, 1863, Richmond
"Received a long and delightful letter from my darling sister in a most charming way showing her sympathy for me during my late trial; I wish she knew how much I love her." Mar. 13, 1863
"Found my dearest sister in bed with a bad cold. Had a long and most interesting talk with my darling; she is certainly one of the most intelligent young ladies in the whole circle of my acquaintances and as loving and kind a sister as a man ever had." Mar. 23, 1863, Spring Farm
"Spent an hour very pleasantly with Mrs. Scott at Gaymont, and gratified my taste by a stroll with her into her beautiful flower garden, which is now bright with variegated flowers, and redolent with perfume." Apr. 18, 1863, Camp 1st Brigade
Here is a letter sent by Jimmie's brother, William Skinker Boswell, on May 12, 1863:
My dear aunt,
It is my sad and painful duty to inform you of Jimmie's death, which occurred on the night of Saturday, the 2nd, near the point from which I write. He was killed instantly by the same fire in which Gen'l Jackson received his death wound, two balls passing through his heart. Gen'l Jackson's troops had met with some obstruction in their advance during a movement to penetrate to the rear of the enemy. Gen'l Jackson and his staff rode forward to reconnoiter and upon their return at a gallop were received by a volley from his own men (who mistook them for the enemy's cavalry). Jimmie, as usual, was by the Genl's side, or rather a few steps in front. His remains were recovered the following day by his comrades in the Engineers Corps and received Christian burial...Noble, brave, and generous to a fault, his loss is a sad, terrible blow to us, in which I doubt not we will have the warm sympathy of your family and the friends in St. Louis who knew him so well. Our consolation is that he has gone to his reward. Truly, the ways of Providence are mysterious and past finding out.
The news was sent to Fauquier by Dr. McIlhany, who is attached to the army at this point.
Enclosed is a letter to you which was among his papers, [I also have this information] the last he ever wrote....
Affectionately your nephew,
Wm. S. Boswell
So...after all of this...I was ready to pay my respects to Cousin Jimmie Boswell at the Confederate Cemetery in Fredericksburg.
Because of his enjoyment of jelly, Jimmie was nicknamed "Preserves." Another caring soul had placed this behind his stone. It delighted my heart to find this sweet gift, and to know that Jimmie has regular visitors.
What a privilege it is to tell Jimmie Boswell's story, to keep his memory alive. My next post on this site will be about our visit to the Warrenton, VA, cemetery to pay respect to Dr. and Mrs. John William McIlhany, my third great-grandparents.
