FOOTLOOSE I V EASTEIl V C lKOM V l
The Death of Rebel Rose
WILMINGTON, N. C. - Shortly
after neliing sell led here in Wilming¬
ton, I sol off with laximan Pop Piliman
in search of a lady's grave.
Now ii is noi true (and if I have
written this before, then it is lime to
repeat it) — it is not true, as some
dare assert, that I count that day lost
whose low descending sun has not. in
some hour of its course, found me
wandering among old graves. There
are a few burial grounds that I do
manage to avoid.
Bui some I can'!, and Wilmington's
Oakdale is among them; for in it is the
grave of a sirange. romantic and tragic
figure in our history — the grave, as
I've said, of a lady.
• * •
Rose O’Neal Greenhow was the
widow of an attache of the State I>c-
partment, mother of a young daughter,
a gracious Washington hostess, and the
friend of prominent figures in the na¬
tional capital of Lincoln's lime.
And she was also a Confederate spy
It was she who, in July of 1861,
sent through the lines to Gen. Beau-
regard. Confederate commander in
northern Virginia, the Federal plans
for an advance which, because of her,
resulted in the disastrous defeat of the
North in the first Battle of Bull Run.
"Rebel Rose.” Washington came to
call her when, her acts being suspect,
she was thrown into a Federal prison.
* * *
Oakdale is a beautiful cemetery, full
of live oaks with wraithlikc gray
draperies of long-moss hanging from
them, and set with winding drives, and
paths that circle wooded knolls.
"You’ll have trouble finding the
grave," the superintendent said. "I’d
better show you." So we rode together
in his car. Pop would wait for me.
The grave of the Rebel Rose is high
on the rise of a knoll, and is without
special prominence.
“Rose O'N. Greenhow." the stone's
inscription reads. “A Bearer of Dis-
16
By WILLARD DUA L
patches to the Confederate Govern¬
ment. F.rected by the Ladies' Memorial
Association."
On the back it told that she was
"drowned off Fort Fisher from the
steamer ’Condor’ while attempting to
run the blockade. Sep. 30. 1864."
The inscriptions barely suggest the
drama of her life and death.
* • *
Mrs. Greenhow was released from
the Federal prison in a general ex¬
change of prisoners in 1862, was sent
through the Confederate lines, visited
Pres. Davis, went South to Charleston
to see Gen. Beauregard, then in com¬
mand there, and finally came here to
Wilmington.
This was then the great port of
blockade-runners, whose vessels ran
vital supplies from Europe through the
patroling warships of the Federal fleet
It was a safe port, far up the Cape
Fear River, which was guarded at its
mouth by the heavy guns of Fort
Fisher.
Mrs. Greenhow was here to find
passage to Europe on one of the block¬
ade-running vessels, so that she could
place her 12-ycar-old daughter Rose in
the Sacred Heart Convent School in
Paris. Doubtless she had other business
of a confidential nature.
In London she was greeted as a
heroine. Queen Victoria received her.
as. later, did the Emperor of France.
Iler book. “My Imprisonment,*' pub¬
lished in London in November. 1863,
was a best seller.
Mrs. Greenhow started back to Wil¬
mington in August. 1864, on the “Con¬
dor." commanded by a man calling
himself Capt. Hewitt, who was himself
to become a world-known figure.
Hewitt was in fact the Hon. Au-
( This article concludes a series of
travel stories originally published in
the " Boston Globe." and reprinted by
special permission. )
gustus Charles Hobart-Hampden, a
younger son of the sixth Earl of Buck¬
inghamshire. and a post-captain of the
British Navy, which he had served with
distinction. He had been an officer of
Queen Victoria’s yacht.
Despairing of advancement, and
seeking adventure (and probably seek¬
ing also some spare change) he took
to blockade-running. In later years he
was to become an Admiral of the
Turkish Navy, and bear the title Ho¬
bart Pasha.
In the night of Sept. 29-30, the
"Condor" ran safely through the block¬
ading fleet, but grounded on a bar
near Ft. Fisher. Mrs. Greenhow in¬
sisted on being put ashore by small
boat, despite the captain’s warning that
seas were too high. The boat capsized.
At dawn, when the "Condor" go!
free and started up the river, the body
of the Rebel Rose was found on the
beach. It was said that a heavy purse
(or belt) of gold which she was carry¬
ing had weighted her down. Others in
the boat were saved.
From a chapel of the Wilmington
Seaman's Bethel Mrs. Greenhow’s
body was carried for services in St.
Thomas' Catholic Church, which still
stands here in Dock St. Then she was
laid reverently in this grave at Oak¬
dale.
• • #
Pop Pittman and I drove the 20 miles
to Ft. Fisher later in the day — visit¬
ing en route the city's Greenfield Park
gardens in which camellias were begin¬
ning to flower, and the modern ocean
terminals on the river road, where
Wilmington's burgeoning ocean com¬
merce (propped by favorable rail
rates) promises to regain an old-time
prosperity. We rode over the intra¬
coastal waterway, and past hurricane-
battered ocean beaches, to the seaward
point between the river and the open
sea . . . where Ft. Fisher was.
There is no Ft. Fisher here today,
( Continued on page 19)
THE STATE. January 14. 1956
