Southern iconography

"The Burial of Latane" is an engraving by A.G. Campbell after an 1864 painting by William D. Washington (1833-1870). (Collection of the author)

The combat ranged not long, but our's the day;
And through the hosts that compassed us around
Our little band rode proudly on its way,
Leaving one gallant comrade, glory-crowned,
Unburied on the field he died to gain,
Single of all his men amid the hostile slain.
--"The Burial of Latane", John Reuben Thompson, (1823-1873)

It happened on a warm day in 1862, during General J.E.B. Stuart's daring ride around Union General George McClellan's army, which was threatening Richmond. Stuart's task was to assess the enemy. On Friday, June 13, he and his riders were headed towards Old Church, situated a few miles east of Mechanicsville, when they began to encounter resistance from Union pickets. McClellan's main force was at Old Church, prepared to move towards Hanover Courthouse.

A Confederate squadron under the command of Captain William Latane of the Essex Light Dragoons was approaching the bridge across Totopotomy Creek. A Tidewater native, Latane -- whose surname was pronounced LAT-uh-ny -- was also a physician. He had studied medicine a decade earlier at the University of Virginia and Richmond Medical College.

Also headed for the bridge was a Union squadron commanded by Major W.B. Royal. The major was armed with pistols and a saber. Captain Latane was armed only with a saber. Jeb Stuart later reported that Latane and his men attacked the Union squadron in columns of four along the approach to the bridge, making a "most brilliant and successful charge." The skirmish was hotly fought and hand-to-hand.

Latane singled out Major Royal and dashed forward, 15 paces ahead of his men. He hacked the Union major's hat from his head. In retaliation, the major drew his two pistols and fired point blank, killing Latane instantly. Captain Latane was the sole Confederate casualty on that sunny summer morning.

The Federals were pushed back, and Stuart continued his ride around McClellan's army, meeting with no other important resistance and no additional casualties.

Shortly before the battle at Totopotomy Creek, Catherine Brockenbrough, who lived at the closest plantation, Westwood, had sent her ox-cart to the mill laden with bags of corn. The driver was on his way back when he came upon a group of Confederates at the side of the road. They were gathered by the body of Captain Latane, whose head was cradled in his brother's lap. The Confederates stopped the cart, concealed the bags of corn in bushes by the side of the road, and lifted the dead officer's body into the cart.

"I was in the back yard attending to the sunning of some wool," Mrs. Brockenbrough later wrote. She saw her cart approaching and heard a servant cry out that there was a body. She directed that Latane's remains be brought into the house and laid upon a cot in the hall. "At this moment, stepping out onto the veranda, I saw a pedestrian rapidly approaching."

The man on foot was the dead captain's brother, who implored Mrs. Brockenbrough to see to a proper burial. She agreed readily, and having no horse to offer, she sent him to nearby Summer Hill plantation where he was offered the only horse at hand -- a blind nag -- on which to make good his escape. Mrs. Brockenbrough wiped away Captain Latane's bloodstains, smoothed his hair, and cut a lock to be sent to his mother. Not wanting to spend the night alone in her home at Westwood, she made her way to Summer Hill and returned home the next morning to arrange for a coffin, which was made by her own carpenters.

Mrs. Brockenbrough told others later that she sent an elderly slave, Aaron, to fetch a minister, but Union troops prevented him from getting through: The women and children of Westwood and Summer Hill would have to see to the burial themselves. Mrs. Brockenbrough herself was too distressed to attend the funeral she had promised to arrange. Mrs. Willoughby Newton of Summer Hill read the service from the Book of Common Prayer, attended at the Summer Hill graveyard by Catherine's daughter, Judith, and female members of the Newton family including two young children. Aaron dug the grave and also attended the service. The day of the service, June 14, 1862, was the first in more than three weeks when no gunfire was heard near the plantations and all was peaceful.

"The girls covered his honored grave with flowers. He now lies martyred to a holy cause," Mrs. Willoughby Newton later wrote.

* * *

The story of the burial of Captain Latane soon spread throughout the region and became emblematic of the courage of Southern womanhood and their valiant endurance in service to the Confederacy.

Two years later, as the war still raged, artist William D. Washington -- a native of Clarke County who was then living in Richmond -- memorialized the story in a large oil painting at his Richmond studio. For models, he used students at Miss Pegram's School for Girls on Linden Row, across from where the city's main public library now stands on Franklin Street.

The painting was exhibited first in a Richmond gallery but was then moved to the State Capitol where masses of people flocked to see it. It was said in several accounts that a bucket placed beneath the painting was soon filled to overflowing with valuable personal items given to support the Confederate cause.

A few years after the war ended, the painting was reproduced as an engraving. Copies of the engraving, illustrative of "the Lost Cause," hung for generations in homes throughout the region. I recall seeing one on the dining room wall in my grandmother's house when I was a child.

Washington's original oil painting was lost for many years following the war. When the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts began to research its whereabouts for a 1983 exhibition titled "Painting in the South: 1564-1980," it was discovered that the painting had been held in a private collection in South Orange, N.J. and then in a collection in Gloucester, Va. The exhibition's curator, Mrs. Ella-Prince Knox, arranged for the loan of the painting to VMFA, where it was shown publicly for the first time in many decades.

I remember walking through the exhibition on the day after it opened. The painting had attracted so much attention that a velvet rope was placed in front of it to keep people from touching it. I watched quietly as a large but respectful crowd of Virginians stood reverently in front of this rediscovered icon of the Confederacy. The painting continued to draw far more than its share of attention, day after day, for the full two-month run of the show.

* * *

As a native Richmonder, I was fascinated by the painting and its history as we began to prepare for the exhibition . My training as a journalist kicked in, and I began to dig deeper and deeper into the story of the burial of Captain Latane. I am particularly grateful to the descendants of those who attended the burial in 1862 who, when they learned of my interest, generously provided me with copies of unpublished accounts, including personal diaries kept during the war.

Alas, as is the case with so many good stories, one key detail was elaborated during the telling of it. Additional research in recent years revealed that Mrs. Brockenbrough, years after the war, admitted that neither she nor Mrs. Newton had performed the burial service. A Methodist minister, she said, had arrived just in time.

A print after the engraving was commissioned by VMFA in conjunction with the exhibition. A framed copy now hangs in my dining room. It reminds me every time I see it of the old -- and sardonic -- advice of a cynical journalist: "Never let the facts get in the way of a good story."

And when Virginia, leaning on her spear,
Victrix et vidua; the conflict done,
Shall raise her mailed hand to wipe the tear
That starts as she recalls each martyred son,
No prouder memory her breast shall sway,
Than thine, our early-lost, lamented Latane.