Three Women Journalists of the Civil War

On a road in the heart of Virginia, a handsome soldier in Confederate uniform approached a pretty young miss. The fellow's name was J. William Hutchinson, and he was actually a Union officer with the 13th New York Cavalry, but he was acting as a Scout in enemy territory. Soldiers weren't allowed out of uniform, but he needed to be mistaken for a Rebel soldier in order to gather information. So he became a turncoat, literally turning his blue cavalry jacket inside out to let the muslin lining be taken for Confederate homespun.

In this "disguise," Lieutenant Hutchinson approached the young lady and politely asked directions.

From there things took an interesting turn.

Although a Virginian, the girl was a Quaker from the town of Waterford, and she and her village were faithful to the Union cause. Her name was Lida Dutton, and, she was soon to become the editor of an underground newspaper

While it was against the tenets of Lida's faith to knowingly lie, it was against her nature to knowingly help a Confederate get where he was going any faster than he should. Her solution was to give the fellow directions only a local could understand: "Left at Brown's stump, right at Uncle Harmon's well, left at Zilpha's Rock..."

As the end of these impossible-to-follow instructions, Hutchinson quietly asked, "Miss, which side would you like for me to be on?"

She blurted, "If you're a Rebel, I hate you; if you're a Northerner, I love you!"

At that point, he was pleased to introduce himself as Lieutenant John William Hutchinson of the 13th New York Cavalry, followed by a presentation of the "lining" of his jacket: the brass buttons and navy wool of a Union officer.

Then he told her he planned to hold her to her promise.

In the first three years of the Civil War, Emma Eliza (known as Lida), sister Lizzie Dutton and cousin Sarah Steer cared for wounded Union soldiers², hid them from marauding Rebel troops,³ and managed to hold together the farms and businesses their fathers and brothers had left behind in order to avoid being forced into the ranks of the Confederacy. But in the spring of 1864, these three stalwart young souls decided they could do more, and that nothing - not the lack of goods nor the abundance of Confederate soldiers - could thwart efforts.

By the spring of 1865, they'd written and published at least eight issues of The Waterford News, a newspaper for Union soldiers. In each edition's four, small pages the soldiers found a tidy sampling of patriotic editorials, poetry, riddles, local news and humor:

... The next day or two the rebels again visited this district and appropriated to their own use several horses and two wagons loaded with corn, belonging of course to Union citizens. They also visited the tannery of Asa M. Bond and arrested thirty-five dollars worth of leather.

WANTED: A few stores... with Dry-Goods, Molasses Candy and other stationery, suited to the tastes of the community. Young and handsome Clerks not objectionable.⁴

The Union soldiers ate it up.

The Waterford News, January 28, 1865: We are gratified to receive the repeated assurance from the soldiers, for whose amusement our little paper was intended, that our efforts have not proven unavailng, but that it is a welcome visitor to their camp.

In fact, some soldiers were so amused, they offered to leave the bachelor life on their behalf.

Not only did it boost morale, it brought in subscription fees - monies which the girls turned right around and sent back for soldiers' aid.⁵

Wanted: A Union commander to take charge of the Rebel Conscripting Officers.Wanted: A straight-jacket for the Editor who was bent on having her own way.— The Waterford News, 11 Mo. 26th, 1864, Vol. I, No. 6

The Waterford News was even perused by President Lincoln. Private Schooley of the 11th Rgt., Maryland Volunteers sent a letter to the President with this introduction, "To His Excellency Abraham Lincoln. Will your excellency please accept the two enclosed copies of 'Waterford News' and excuse me for taking the liberty of sending them to you... You will see by the Sending, the intention of the Fair Editresses in editing the Paper under the difficulties which they do. 'Tis for to aid the 'Sanitary Commission.' They have already made up nearly 1000$ [sic] for the same purpose!"⁶

To understand the nature of these exceptional young women, we must understand their social context: the history of Quakers (also known as "The Religious Society of Friends") has been marked by unusual bravery and strength of character. Students of Quaker history find evidence of the persistent influence of a people of faith who helped change the course of American history, but evidence also shows the course of American politics influencing the nature of Quakerism.⁷ These competing influences are best exemplified in the history of Loudoun's Quakers - a people who found themselves struggling to maintain a pacifist tradition in the midst of Confederate Virginia.

Loudoun Quakers

More on Waterford Quakers »

By the early nineteenth century, most Loudoun Quakers associated themselves with the Hicksite faction of the church which espoused a more liberal point of view than Orthodox Quakers. By the time of the Civil War, they were still pacifists, met twice weekly for Meetings, disciplined their members, and encouraged plain dress, but further assumptions are destined to break down.⁸ They had been living in the middle of a heated political situation for several years, and their pacifism had been sorely tested. When John Brown's Raid occurred so near to Loudoun, local militias were formed. Quakers were told to show up for muster or pay a fine. At the beginning of the war, the Confederate army took Quakers for laborers or jailed them for use as bargaining chips. As a result, most headed north, but several men risked the discipline of the Quaker meeting and joined the Union Army.

One of those men was young James Dutton, brother to Lida and Lizzie.⁹ By 1862, Lizzie had fallen in love and become engaged to a Lieutenant Holmes of the 7th Indiana Regiment. The matter had become personal, such that when it came to a choice of allegiance between country or faith, Quaker women like Lida, Lizzie and Sarah stubbornly chose to support both. A Waterford News editorial boldly stated, "Christians make the best soldiers."¹⁰

At every turn, Loudoun's Quaker women refused to be categorized. Regarding the tradition of Quaker "plain dress," for example, there is this interesting notation in the very first edition of The Waterford News: "Great distress is felt by the ladies of this vicinity at not being able to appear at meeting in new bonnets, dresses and wrappings, owing to the stringent blockade."¹¹

These women were well educated and had been strongly encouraged to express themselves. Only a few years before the war, Lida, Lizzie and Sarah were active members of a Waterford Literary Society, writing essays whose topics ranged from a thoughtful, "What is There Left to Write About?" to a hilarious ode "On Chickens." Essays were read aloud to the group, gently critiqued by the members present, and then recorded in a large bound book. Thankfully, the Society's volumes survived the war and rest in the archives of The Thomas Balch Library of Leesburg, Virginia.¹² One of the anonymous notes in the Society Essays reads, "Take life as it is, a real matter-of-fact thing, and do it justice." It's easy to imagine one of the "Fair Editresses" of The Waterford News penning that line.

Although the Literary Society provided a place for young ladies to sharpen their wits as well as their pencils, their excellent educations began at home. Several years before the war, Sarah Steer had been sent north to a Ladies Academy. In the Dutton home, Lida and Lizzie's parents, John and Emma, always encouraged their four daughters to exercise full use of their minds. In a letter written in 1864 to the youngest daughter, Anna Ellen, John wrote, "I take great pride in my childrens' writing. I want each to exert themselves in this particular branch of learning and now is the time whilst thy little fingers are limber... Make it a rule to study - to think - weigh thy thoughts well for thy self. Don't conclude things are right just because the mass of the people say so."¹³ As a result of such parenting and the Quakers' insistence on female education (all this, despite 19th century 'Woman as Shelf-Ornament' thinking), Lida, Lizzie and Sarah's writings are a treasure of womanly expression:

The young ladies of Waterford, Loudon [sic] Co., Va., are hereby notified to meet the first opportunity and lend their mutual aid in filling a large mud-hole with stone, said mud-hole being located in the middle of Second Street... the men have driven around it so much that it is extending each side. Being fearful the gentlemen will get their feet muddy, the ladies will try and remedy it.¹⁴

With no paper and no money, getting a newspaper out of Confederate Virginia was no small task. Draft copies of The Waterford News needed to be smuggled north across the Potomac River. The Baltimore American voluntarily printed the newspapers for them. Subscriptions were handled through the Federal Post Office at Point of Rocks, Maryland (the active Confederate troops made it impossible for the girls to distribute the paper from their homes). For their efforts, the young women risked severe "discipline" by the Confederate army, as did all of Waterford for its pro-Union sentiment.

But Waterford's closest call occurred in 1862: Confederate troops arrived to forage and announced that, when they were through, they would burn the village down. Rachel Means, wife of Samuel Means of Waterford, ran to the only person she knew who still had a horse: a farmer just outside of town. She asked him to ride to Union General Geary, stationed just a few miles away, and tell him to send Union troops to save the town. The fellow flat-out refused. She then asked him to lend her his horse so she could make the ride. Again he told her "no." To that she replied, "Then I will steal thy horse and go myself." And so she did. General Geary promptly dispatched troops to the town, and Waterford was saved.¹⁵

With war literally at their doorstep, Lida, Lizzie and Sarah chose to publish the newspaper, despite personal risk, and even personal tragedy.

The July 2, 1864 edition of The Waterford News told its readers to press on:

This editorial, which the modern reader might be tempted to dismiss as flowery patriotic sentiment, becomes poignantly descriptive when we discover it was written almost immediately after Lizzie received news that her fiancé, Lieutenant David Holmes, had been killed in the Battle of Petersburg.

In late November of 1864, General Grant authorized a raid on Loudoun County. This Union foray (a precursor to Sherman's March to the Sea) has become known in local lore as "The Burning Raid," but The Waterford News called it "The Fury Order." Grant's concept was to burn out the farms still able to provide forage to Confederate Colonel Mosby and his men. To this end, he ordered barns to be burned and livestock killed or driven off. Furthermore, men under 51 capable of bearing arms and any slaves remaining in the area were to be taken.

For the people of Loudoun who suffered from this order, political sentiment became unimportant. Mosby gathered forage from whoever had goods, thus the Union army visited whoever had goods.

So, in a sad twist of fate, pro-Union Loudouners had the unpleasant task of watching the Union army destroy in less than a week what they'd been hiding and protecting from bushwhackers and Confederates for four years. Between November 27th and December 2 of 1864, the skies over western Loudoun were dark with the smoke of hundreds upon hundreds of fires.¹⁷

But again Loudoun's Quaker women persevered. Major J.B. Wheeler of the 6th New York recorded that, "At Waterford, Loudoun County, Virginia, two young ladies perched on the wide gate posts in front of their home, waving American flags and said as their hay was being destroyed, 'Burn away, burn away, if it will keep Mosby from coming here.' "

Tradition holds that one of those young women was Lida Dutton.¹⁸

Not everyone was as stoic as Lida. When Union soldiers demanded matches from Quakeress Ruth Hannah Smith for the sole purpose of using them to burn down her barn, she quietly held the lucifers in the steam from her teakettle before handing them over. Her barn was saved.¹⁹

There is no doubt the soldiers were unhappy in their work. Briscoe Goodhart, who wrote an account of his years with the Independent Loudoun Rangers (the only Union troop ever formed in Virginia), mentions many successful and unsucessful adventures - but he skips the Loudoun Rangers' part in the burning raid completely.

Perhaps to assuage the soldiers' guilt, an editorial in the Jan. 28, 1865 edition of The Waterford News read:

While Loudoun Quakers struggled to remain patriotic, the Burning Raid did have the intended affect on the Confederate populace: it broke the spirit of rebellion. By April the people were ready for peace.

The Peace

Thanks to a Confederate miller, we know exactly how Quakers celebrated the signing of the peace. Four days after Appamatox, Moses Pascal Watson wrote a short, bitter note and slipped it into the pages of his record book: