A Guide to Historical Salem - Volume 8, Number 2 -- Spring 2002

• Despite Obstacles, African Americans Built a Community
• Salem Area Almost a ‘Baden-Baden’
  Healing Waters Attracted Many
• Centennial Party Filled the Streets
• Many Salem Churches Were Founded in the Late 19th Century
• Crowd Witnessed 1863 Hanging of Deserter
• Name Changed, But Salem Newspaper Delivered the Story
• Six Generations of Family Called this House Home
• Salem Saw Boom, Bust During Late 19th Century

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Despite Obstacles, African Americans Built a Community

By John Long

Salem’s second half century brought immense change to the small town. But perhaps no changes were so obvious as those that affected her African American citizens: from slavery to freedom, from early progress to segregation.

According to the 1850 census, Roanoke County had about 2500 slaves and only 155 free blacks—together comprising about 30% of the population. Their lives were marked by injustice and suspicion—even open paranoia—on the part of their white neighbors. Evidence of this can be found in Salem’s Bylaws from 1859. The Bylaws attend to the normal affairs of town business such preventing chimney fires, but no less than six of the fifteen articles deal with either slaves or free blacks. Any “free negro or mulatto” was required to register his or her presence with the town sergeant upon entering Salem, and had to have these papers on his person at all times. No slave or free black could be seen on the streets after a nightly curfew, and they could not gather together in groups. Penalties for breaking these by-laws were severe, often involving lashing on the bare back.

Race relations naturally changed with the end of the Civil War and the abolition of slavery. With emancipation came a new set of problems for Salem’s African Americans: where to live, how to feed families, how to relate to sometimes resentful whites. Many could only meet these challenges by remaining as sharecroppers on the land they had previously worked as slaves. But others found surprising opportunities for advancement. One of the greatest came in 1868, when part of the estate of Nathaniel Burwell (previously the county’s largest slaveholder) was auctioned off. Some of this land, lying south of Main Street, was purchased by former slaves of Burwell, including the Spurlock brothers, Moses and Shirley.

Over the next generation or so, this area south of Main, along what came to be called Water Street, became the premiere African American neighborhood in Salem. A bit to the east, behind modern Longwood Park, appeared Government Hill, another black neighborhood apparently named for a government poorhouse nearby. These two communities, and some smaller pockets of settlement north and east of town, were home to almost all African Americans in Salem.

In January 1869 the Salem weekly newspaper Roanoke Times praised these newly free African Americans:

“The freedmen are manifesting quite a commendable spirit of enterprise. So general is the desire to obtain houses of their own that land has been in demand in such sections as they have begun to congregate. In church property, also, they are doing well. Already two churches and a schoolhouse have been erected in town by them.” (January 16, 1869)

But only about six weeks later the same paper printed a much less positive commentary on the same subject:

“We desire to discourage negroes from congregating in this place. Already several hundred are stowed away in old cabins in the suburbs and vicinity of town; and many of them are without visible means of support. The consequence must be great suffering or intolerable roguery. . . cannot some means be devised by which the community may be rid of this nuisance? The negroes who remain at their homes in the county should be encouraged, but those who flock to this place to live by roguery should pay the penalty. Keep an eye on all the latter class.” (February 27, 1869)

In a month and a half, the “commendable spirit of enterprise” had turned into “intolerable roguery,” the established settlements into “old cabins in the suburbs.” We cannot know what had happened to change the paper’s opinion, but it is clear that Salem’s African Americans faced many challenges, and little support would come form the white community. Local blacks then had to learn to rely on themselves. For their community to thrive, three essential institutions had to exist: schools, churches, and businesses.

Although a school is mentioned in the article above, Salem’s first public school for blacks was established in 1872. It was a small building on the northwest corner of Chapman Avenue and the lane soon called School Alley. Town council had paid $192 for this lot two years before. Classes began on October 1, 1872, with Samuel Windsor as principal and Walter Scott as assistant. This building, known usually as School No. 2 or Salem Colored, served the Water Street Community until 1890. In that year a new building was erected on the southwest corner of Water Street and School Alley. Principal John Duckwilder would preside over this 6-room schoolhouse, then called Graded School A, intermittently until 1920. Although facilities and materials were far inferior to those provided white students, these schools represented the only opportunity most African Americans had to gain an education.

In a day of oppression, many blacks found comfort, courage, and community in their churches. No less than six black churches were founded in the late 19th Century: two Methodist and four Baptist. Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church, on the southwest corner of Water and Calhoun, was founded in 1866, and John Wesley Methodist Episcopal, just to the south across Burwell, in 1868. Both Methodist churches thrived for more than a century, but were closed, and their buildings razed, in the 1970’s. Two of four Baptist churches still survive today. The dominant black congregations were First and Shiloh Baptist Churches First Baptist was founded in 1867 and built its familiar sanctuary, still in use, in the 1870s. We know little of the early pastorates until the illustrious Benjamin Fox. Pastor Fox led the church admirably for years before departing about 1896 to found Shiloh Baptist a few blocks away. Calvary Baptist Church, and Second (or Mount Vernon) Baptist, both founded 1899, existed briefly but seem to have disappeared in the nineteen-teens. Today, only First and Shiloh Baptist Churches bear witness to the crucial role the black church played through years of subjugation.

Finally, Salem’s African Americans needed opportunities for economic advancement. Not surprisingly, racial conventions of the day greatly limited this; but many blacks took their limited opportunities to impressive levels. History records many black-owned businesses in Salem. The aforementioned Moses Spurlock ran a restaurant across the street from the courthouse; and a Simon Anderson ran an ice cream parlor. The Campbell brothers, James and Alexander (whose mother, Elizabeth, was also quite prosperous) owned a grocery store and livery stable, respectively. Daniel Bradpher worked for the Crystal Ice plant and had his own grocery store as well as managing Salem’s first power plant. Another early electrician, Richard Burks, is credited with wiring the town’s first street lights. John Baptist ran a large and prosperous hotel on Water Street. In addition, blacksmiths, barber shops, contractors of various sorts, and later taxi services all were found in the black community, catering to customers of both races. The result was an impressive level of prosperity and advancement in the face of segregation.

The achievements of Salem’s African American citizens were heralded on January 2, 1893, when a grand celebration was held to mark the 30th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation. A mile long parade and a day of orations marked the occasion. The keynote speaker was Dr. Daniel Williams of the Virginia Normal and Collegiate Institute, who spoke at length on the “Our duties and how to discharge them.” Williams cited the benefits of family, education, thrift, religious devotion, and hard work in achieving success—the very factors that had made Water Street prosperous. He even called eloquently for “the white and colored people of the South [to] live together in peace and harmony.”

Williams ideas had obvious merit. That it would be generations before there would be any effort to implement them is largely due to government policy. In 1896, the Supreme Court handed down the decision Plessy vs. Ferguson, which decreed that “separate but equal” facilities dividing the races were constitutional. Then in 1902, a new constitution for Virginia severely curtailed black (and lower income white) voting rights. The result was the segregation of “Jim Crow” society. Water Street and other black neighborhoods would persevere through these unfortunate days by continuing the virtues that had established their community: family, church, hard work, and unity.

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Salem Area Almost a ‘Baden-Baden’
Healing Waters Attracted Many

By Lon Savage

One of the great success stories of Salem’s history came in the late 1800s with a resort arrangement between Salem‘s Lake Spring Hotel and the Roanoke Red Sulphur Springs at Catawba that promised to make this area a “Baden-Baden of America.”

In fact, when one reads the testimonials to the cures effected by the waters of the Roanoke Red, one wonder why it didn’t outclass Baden-Baden.

The waters of the Roanoke Red, according to folks who took them, cured or were “beneficial” in treating malaria, asthma, diphtheria, hay fever, consumption, chronic rheumatism, dropsy, syphilis, continual depression, constipation, and diseases of the genito-urinary organs of both sexes -- to name only a few. Beyond that, a visit to Lake Spring-Roanoke Red also offered good food, delightful clientele, concerts, balls and dances, boating, fishing and hunting, croquet, ten-pins, horseback riding, cool clean air, nightly band music, lots of rest and relaxation, and unsurpassed mountain scenery.

The attraction brought an estimated 500 enthusiastic tourists to the two hotels each summer, most staying a minimum of several weeks and many staying all summer. They came from all over the East but especially from the Gulf states where malarial diseases were most feared.

All this was the inspiration of Salem’s own Flavius Josephus “Joe” Chapman, both father and son of Salem hotel keepers as well as being one of the best in the business, himself.

He first leased, and then bought, the Roanoke Red Sulphur Springs resort hotel after it was built in 1857-58. Working with his son J. Harry Chapman after the Civil War, he built the Lake Spring Hotel in 1876, brilliantly combining it with Salem’s first water system (the three lakes that served as a reservoir for the water system also served as a chief attraction for the nearby hotel). The two hotels – one in Salem and the other in Catawba – quickly became a joint venture.

Chapman’s carriages met every train at the Salem depot and took his guests first to the nearby Lake Spring Hotel, where Lake Spring Park stands today. There, well-fed guests could drink the waters from Catawba, paddle in the lakes beneath overhanging willows while being serenaded by an Italian string band housed in a bandstand in the middle of a lake, attend nightly dances, ride horseback, hunt or fish or, on occasion, participate on horseback in a jousting tournament (the “knight” who speared the most rings in the tournament won the honor of crowning “The Lady in the Lake” at the ensuing ball).

From there, guests who wished – and most did – were taken over the mountain by carriage to the Red, and the all-day ride between the hotels was a big part of the total attraction. At the top of the mountain, the driver usually allowed guests to get out to admire the breathtaking view, as well as to regain their composure from the harrowing ride, before starting the last leg of the ten-mile trip. “I now place the route from Salem to the Red as one of the loveliest sceneries in Virginia,” proclaimed one enthusiastic tourist after the trip, adding that the ride by itself was worth the price of the visit and also gave “you a good appetite for dinner.”

At the Red, guests enjoyed the same activities and dances and music and balls as at the Lake Spring, plus more: hot and cold sulphur baths, trout fishing, numerous games, hunting, walks in the woods, excursions into the surrounding country including to the 4,200-foot McAfee’s Knob.

The guests at the hotels had so much fun that they, themselves, were part of the attraction. A Richmond visitor exulted about the 300 guests in the summer of 1887, “most of whom were Southerners, and a more sociable homelike people cannot be found in America, from the oldest man (all ladies are young and lovely) to the youngest child seem bent and determined that everybody shall have a good time at the Red and be made to feel at home.”

Here are some examples of the more than 100 testimonials to the waters published by the Chapmans:

“I was suffering from a complication of heart, liver and kidney troubles. It was with the greatest difficulty I could walk 200 yards,” a Louisiana man said. “…After a sojourn of three weeks [at the Red], I came away a changed man;…I could run and romp like a boy…I owe my life to Roanoke Red.”

From Washington, D.C.”I was suffering with malaria when I arrived, but a week of the sulphur water regimen completely restored my health.”

From Arkansas: “I was a great sufferer from Asthma and had been for thirteen years almost constantly with it. Ten days after my arrival at the Springs all signs of asthma had left me and I continued to improve…”

The Lake Spring Hotel burned to the ground the night of June 16, 1892, as a ball broke up about 2:15 a.m. Guests leaving the ball in tuxedos joined the bucket brigade, but the building could not be saved. It was never rebuilt.

Joe Chapman died in 1894, and his sons sold the Roanoke Red to the State of Virginia in 1908. It became the location of the Catawba Sanatorium for tubcercular patients. Today it is the site of Catawba Hospital.

Editor’s note: This article is based on a more detailed story about Lake Spring—Roanoke Red Hotels published in “Historic Salem” in the Summer/Fall issue of 1998.

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Centennial Party Filled the Streets

By Lon Savage

Which was bigger and better: Salem’s Centennial observance of 1902 or its Bicentennial observance of 2002?

You be the judge.

There were remarkable similarities in the two. Both had parades. Both had programs following the parades. Both had good weather and good turnout.

The Centennial of 1902 didn’t have anything like the resources to draw from that the 2002 Bicentennial enjoyed. Probably from necessity, the Centennial observance was limited to one day, whereas the Bicentennial of 2002 is running for much of the year. Nevertheless, Salem’s Centennial observance of 1902 had a longer parade, a higher percentage of participation and perhaps more excitement than its 21st century counterpart – at least so far in 2002.

Salem’s Centennial parade on Wednesday, June 4, 1902, was far bigger in relation to town size – and probably bigger in actual fact -- than its Bicentennial counterpart on Saturday, May 25, 2002.

The Centennial parade of 1902 listed only 16 units, including a single band, veterans groups from the Civil War and Spanish American War, the Salem Fire Company, civic officials and then citizens – lots and lots of citizens. The modern 2002 parade had 52 units, with nearly 600 persons, including such things as drill teams, gymnastics teams, floats, trucks, bands, marching units, drum majorettes, beauty queens, politicians, and a variety of themes ranging from religious to historical.

But the 1902 parade was still larger. The reason: it included
All the town’s school children
The student body and faculty of Roanoke College
The orphans of the Baptist and Lutheran Homes
Members of fraternal organizations
Veterans of the Civil War and Spanish American War
A Roanoke City military unit
The Salem Fire Company
Officials not only of Salem but also Roanoke and Roanoke County
“Old Citizens of Salem, in Carriages”
And finally the catch-all “Citizens of Salem, Mounted and on Foot.”

The composition of the 1902 parade caused historian Norwood Middleton to comment that in 1902 there may have been “as many, if not more, people in the parade as there were spectators.”

Despite some skepticism of the numbers, newspapers reported in 1902 that between 10,000 and 12,000 persons watched the Centennial parade as it moved from its beginning at Courthouse Square to Lake Spring Park where it looped around and returned down the narrow macadam strip called Main Street. Crowds cheered it all the way, standing amid the color of bunting and 45-star American flags. As one 1902 newspaper put it in the gracious language of the time: “To say there was a big crowd hardly expressed it. There was literally a sea of people for there was no direction that one could look from one of the elevated stands that did not present a solid mass of humanity.”

The 2002 Bicentennial parade, passing between 50-star American flags and special Salem Bicentennial flags, started from Shanks and Main Streets and marched six blocks to College Avenue where it disbanded. Salem police estimated a crowd of about 7,500 -- smaller than the usual crowd at the city’s annual Christmas parade, probably because of many other competing events during the 2002 festivity.

The 1902 festivities included only one band – the 30-piece Roanoke Machine Works Band that led the parade and played intermittently throughout the program. Three bands marched in the 2002 parade and several others performed afterward.

The fact that the 1902 band had to be imported from Roanoke was itself an issue, according to Middleton, because Salem had its own Salem Cornet Silver Band and chose not to use it. Perhaps embarrassed by that fact, Salem’s band experienced a renaissance of sorts after 1902, according to Middleton.

That renaissance was very much evident in the 2002 parade with performances by the Pride of Salem Band from Salem High School, wearing bicentennial T-shirts and shorts; the Andrew Lewis Middle School Band and Glenvar High School Band in full uniform.

Both parades had a bevy of beauty queens. Those of 2002 had titles like Baby Miss of America (Victoria Ratliff of Salem), Salem’s Junior Miss (Alisa Mook), Miss Roanoke Valley (Shaunna Payne) and Miss Virginia (Meghan Elizabeth Shanley)-- all riding, of course, in separate cars with streamers, signs and the like. Those in 1902 included about a dozen young women, apparently all local, riding in a single horse-drawn float decorated with bunting and flowers. They had no titles, only names, and were identified as several members of the Wiley family, the Bowles family, Mrs. Lewis Langhorne, Nora Shanks, Virginia Griffin, Bessie Galloway, Roxie Dillard and Katie Dillard.

Among the carriages in 1902 was one bearing a half dozen black Salem residents, including 101-year-old “Aunt” Prudence Goins and Peter Wade, renowned as the father of 21 children. The 2002 parade featured no such unit, but the unspoken fact that Salem’s African American City Manager Forrest Jones and his wife rode by in period costume and horse-drawn carriage near the front of the parade probably said more about race relations in the modern city.

Roanoke’s 1902 Mayor R. A. Buckner rode in Salem’s Centennial parade – but his counterpart was not in the Bicentennial Parade a century later. On the other hand, the local congressman and delegate, Bob Goodlatte and Morgan Griffith, were in the 2002 parade – but their 1902 counterparts were not mentioned in reports of the parade a century before.

Salem’s Mayor Tarpley and other city officials also rode in carriages in the bicentennial parade, wearing period costumes.

The Centennial Parade of 1902 prominently featured members of the Hupp-Deyerle Camp and the William Watts Camp of Confederate Veterans. Indicating that the intense emotions of the Civil War had subsided somewhat, it also featured, marching between the two Confederate units, a unit of the Grand Army of the Republic from Roanoke.

The modern version included a float with 200th birthday cake, perhaps eight feet high -- big enough to feed much of Salem if it had been edible; unfortunately it was made of crepe paper and chicken wire. No such float graced the 1902 parade.

After the 1902 parade, everyone assembled at Courthouse Square for some two hours of oratory interspersed with music. Speakers included local historian William McCauley whose talk on Salem’s first one hundred years still serves as a basic document on Salem history; and native son Major Samuel Griffin of Bedford, who marveled at such things as the town’s “solid streets with smooth surfaces, over which glide, almost without sound or jolt, rubber-tired carriages, bicycles and automobiles” and sidewalks described as “well-swept pavements that invite daily promenades by your young girls with silken skirts, accompanied by their young beaux with patent leather shoes – things hardly known in…earlier days” or, even stranger, “electric arc lights, like artificial suns suspended from the sky, illuminating your streets at night with the glare of noonday.”

The courthouse area then was transformed into a huge refreshment stand where a free lunch of ham sandwiches and lemonade was served to one and all.

That evening, a professionally-organized group cast of some 500 persons – mostly children -- staged an open-air spectacular entitled “Enchantment” on Courthouse Square, including a chorus of 200 white-clad fairies and others dressed as butterflies, grasshoppers, crickets, frogs, scarlet-clad gnomes of the forests, royal guards and grooms, mounted cavaliers, a bevy of beautiful “Chrysanthemum girls” who did precision drills and maneuvers, and, of course, horse-drawn coaches bearing the fairy queen and ladies of her court. The Bicentennial planners did not try to match such a spectacle.

The 2002 observance included no speeches at all. Instead, following the parade, there was a “Party in the Park” from 3 to 10 p.m., featuring four different musical groups on the main stage and five performances on the children’s stage. Costumed volunteers portrayed characters from Salem’s history in a Ghost Walks program from 7 to 9 along Main Street; a time capsule was dedicated at 6 and carriage and Model T Ford rides, carnival games and rides, an art show, a Kangaroo Court and a food court were available.

Both the Centennial and Bicentennial programs featured “Great Fireworks,” the Centennial fireworks occurring at the end of the Parade Day, the Bicentennial fireworks following the Salem Avalanche baseball game the following Monday night.

When it was all over, the Centennial leaders of 1902 could not have been more proud of their achievement. The Salem Times-Register, which first suggested the Centennial idea in 1902, reported flatly that “Wednesday, June the 4th, 1902, will go upon record as the greatest day in the history of Salem.”

The modern Times-Register has made no such claim for 2002 – at least not yet.

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Many Salem Churches Were Founded in the Late 19th Century

By Frances Stebbins

Crowns and thrones may perish,
Kingdoms wax and wane,
But the church of Jesus
Constant will remain...
"Onward, Christian Soldiers" hymn 1864

Salem's second half century, the years from 1852 to 1902, saw the establishment of many of the city's major congregations. As the hymn says, they have remained strong and a vital part of the community.

Among the city's leadership today, membership in a congregation helps to define their identity. The values of stability, responsibility, loyalty to the familiar institutions of church, school and family are nurtured in those who take their faith seriously.

When ministers are called to Salem congregations -- even in denominations like the United Methodist and Roman Catholic where transfers every few years are customary -- the pastors often stay as long as possible.

And in other groups, where an indefinite tenure is possible, it is not unusual for pastorates to last 20 years or more.

True, in the century just past, many congregations were started that still flourish. Religion in America became more diverse after 1902 and the city now includes representatives of such bodies as Roman Catholicism, Latter-day Saints, many Pentecostal groups and the interdenominational fellowships which follow a conservative Protestant belief system.

But these churches belong to Salem's later days. Many were not even conceived of in the years immediately preceding the Civil War when Roanoke College and the Salem Museum -- then the Brown house-store -- appear in the famous landscape painted of the town in those days 150 years ago.

In 1852, as far as can be determined, only the Methodist and the Presbyterian churches stood in the downtown area. First (United) Methodist had been worshiping since 1803 -- it is now Salem's oldest congregation in terms of continuous services --but it was still served by circuit riders and used a small building on College Street.

The Presbyterians had been officially in the business of winning people to Christ since 1831 and educating them in Scripture since 1831. Members had just moved into their new building at Main and Market Streets where they remain. It was a small and simple structure with a steeple. Over the next 50 years the roof would be changed to a modified Mansard style popular among Victorian builders.

The Baptists, who had started out in the Fort Lewis area, as early as 1784 had many ups and downs as small Bible societies died out or grew into stronger groups. In the pre-Civil War years the Baptist church was on East Hill in a building that was not substantial enough to withstand a windstorm.

Just after the Civil War, the Baptists formed around the downtown area of Clay Street and the organization of the present Salem Baptist congregation dates from 1870. These folk have remained in that area for more than 130 years. By 1898 there were 326 people on the rolls.

But the white Baptists were hardly the first in terms of official organization in Salem. That distinction belongs to the African-American congregation which came into being in 1866, the year after the war ended and slaves were freed. It was a time of turmoil for both races.

Spiritual guidance and comforting fellowship was clearly needed, but worshiping together, as sometimes occurs 140 years later, was not to occur in the culture of that time. Union sympathizers often saw support of the former slaves as a sacred duty. Few of Salem’s white Baptists would have wanted to share their pews with blacks.

So Salem's Negroes built their own white frame church on what is now South Broad Street near their own neat neighborhood. The chapel, one of the city's oldest buildings still in use, remains a monument to its times, and Salem's black Baptists have "First" in their name.

Meanwhile, two liturgical denominations -- Lutheran and Episcopal -- were in the early stages of starting congregations in the ante-bellum town. For the Lutherans, who had migrated in the earliest days from Germany to Pennsylvania and then south through the Shenandoah Valley, it was natural to settle around the new Roanoke College.

In December 1852 a few persons from the college organized a congregation called the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Four years later, the name of College Church was taken when a building was occupied on Main Street across from what was then the county courthouse. The Lutherans worshiped there for 64 years.

Later this year the congregation, which is preparing to add to the rear of the stone building at 210 College Ave., will mark its 150th year since organization.

Three dates can be considered as marking the birth of St. Paul's Episcopal Church across from Salem Presbyterian downtown. As early as 1836 records in the Richmond office of the Diocese of Virginia reveal that its bishop came to Salem to perform the rite of Confirmation on several who were meeting in the town.

However, 1852 is commonly regarded as the founding date. This is hardly correct, for it was not until 1867 that the Salem congregation got its name, a regular schedule of worship and a place to meet.

The Episcopalians' first building was where the church parish hall is now on South Market Street between Main and Calhoun. A series of short-term rectors began using these quarters in 1869 and 15 years later the church was enlarged.

Before the second 50 years of Salem's history ended, three more congregations that are still active were organized in the town.

The Disciples of Christ, still regarded as the first American-born religious group and dating from frontier days, was well represented by many small country churches. In 1891 the part of Salem south of the Roanoke River was still a rural hamlet and had its own identity. "Campbellities," the name many called this group for one of its founders, started a church in South Salem.

A decade later a group of lay people saw the need for a church of this background in the larger town. What is now West Main Street Church of Christ across from the present Salem Post Office came into being with its first service held Aug. 24, 1902. Centennial celebration is scheduled later this year as the Sesquicentennial event is for the College Lutherans.

Today the old South Salem Christian is now First Christian (Disciples of Christ) having changed its name to reflect the addition of South Salem's incorporation into the city in 1953. Early in the 20th Century its people moved to the present site at 712 Front Avenue.

The Church of Christ on West Main is now separate from the Disciples group. It follows a more conservative position on doctrinal and moral issues.

Finally, the black Baptists from First Church on Water (now South Broad) Street reached out to start two more congregations. One did not survive, but the second became Shiloh Baptist which dates from 1896. Once on Main Street, it has been at Burwell and Calhoun since early in the 20th Century.

Church life in Salem's second 50 years also was greatly affected by related institutions in a day when Protestant evangelism and high moral principles characterized much preaching even in denominations now regarded as liberal theologically.

Both the Baptists and the Lutherans chose Salem as the sites for their orphanages. Before the turn of the 20th Century, many children from large families lost parents from diseases rarely seen today. Churches regarded their institutional care as important ministries and the existing congregations in Salem benefited from additional members from the staffs as well as the young residents.

The Baptist Orphanage, now Virginia Baptist Home and Family Services with a different group of residents, dates to 1892. The Lutheran Orphanage on another hill dates from 1896 though it had been caring for children elsewhere since 1888. It too has changed its focus to family counseling in outlying cities but its offices remain in Roanoke County.

And the roots of Salem's many conservative Christian groups can be traced to a strong evangelistic movement that flourished 125 years ago. The Norwood Middleton history, "Salem: A Virginia Chronicle," from which much of this material is taken, notes several tabernacles or temporary meeting houses where revival meetings and temperance rallies enlivened life in a more church-dominated age.

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Crowd Witnessed 1863 Hanging of Deserter

By John Long

The Civil War brought to Salem valiant service by local men in uniform, brave sacrifice by those left behind, and four years of unforeseen hardship. It was also the context for one of the few capital punishment cases carried out in the Roanoke Valley: the hanging of James Stover in August 1863.

The account of Stover’s execution has been told in various sources. Two eyewitnesses, who saw the hanging as boys, later wrote their recollections. One was Charles A. Deyerle, whose father was involved in the case. The other was local historian Albin Magee, who wrote his account for the county’s Centennial newspaper in 1938. In addition, the transcript of a contemporary article reporting the hanging in the Salem Times Register has been preserved (it should be noted that Magee’s version of the story seems to have been freely adapted from this article). However, a full harmonization of these accounts has apparently never been published.

James E. Stover was a deserter from the Confederate Army, a crime that carried severe penalties. Although desertion was not uncommon by 1863, Stover and two other accomplices went took the crime a step further. The job of rounding up deserters often fell to a local patrolman, and in Roanoke County the assignment was given to one John R. Peyton. Widely respected and popular, Peyton was sent along the road from Salem to Cave Spring to search for refugees, and was ambushed by Stover, a man named Baker, and an unnamed third deserter. Peyton’s body was hidden in a ravine and his valuables, namely a watch, were stolen. It should be noted that the Cave Spring—Bent Mountain area—and nearby Floyd County—were known as havens for Confederate deserters.

Soon afterwards, local farmer Henry Owens was captured. A habitual deserter from the 54th Virginia Infantry, Owens had earlier escaped trial by leaping from a moving train while handcuffed. Somehow he made his way back to the valley and was tending his farm when he was apprehended.

While in custody, Owens was interrogated by Colonel Andrew Jackson Deyerle (father of the eyewitness Charles). Deyerle was furloughed from the army due to a wound sustained at the battle of Cedar’s Mountain, and had been placed in charge of recruitment for the county. A few months after this incident, Deyerle would be elected to represent Roanoke County in Richmond.

Deyerle immediately knew that Owens could lead him to Stover—for Owen’s had married Stover’s sister (he was also a brother-in-law of Deyerle’s niece Florentine Owens). The Colonel informed Owens that his only chance at escaping the gallows was to turn over his brother-in-law. The prisoner relented and told the authorities that Stover was secreted in the springhouse of the Owens’ farm in the west county. Within hours, Stover was in custody. Owens was indeed spared and lived for many years afterwards.

James Stover was placed on trial. Although some sympathizers attempted to shift the blame to Baker, who had apparently fled to Union protection, Stover was found guilty of murder. On August 14, 1863, a gallows was erected east of town in a grove of trees in the vicinity of modern Oakey’s field. A large crowd gathered outside the courthouse, and Stover was brought out, pale but erect, already wearing his noose. As was the custom, Stover was made to ride to the gallows atop his own coffin, accompanied by the Rev. Lindsay Blanton, pastor of the Presbyterian Church. The crowd somberly followed, including both boys who would later write their accounts.

At the place of execution, Magee says that a hood was placed over Stover’s head, while Deyerle insists that he could see the man’s face as he died. But on all other points the accounts agree. Pastor Blanton offered a prayer, and the jailer, James Huff, gave Stover a final chance to confess: “Stover, did you kill Peyton?” All sources confirm his answer: “My gun did.” Was this intended as a confession, or a defense? Did he mean to imply that someone else had used his gun in the crime, and that he was innocent? That the crime was an accident? Stover was not given a chance to elaborate, for Huff immediately opened the trap and Stover, in the words of Magee, “was launched into eternity to meet his maker.”

This event, considered the last public hanging in Roanoke County, made a lasting impression on the community. Magee later wrote that as a boy he would never pass the grove of trees, afterwards known as Stover’s Woods, for fear of the ghost of the convicted murderer. Charles Deyerle described the hanging as a “horrid spectacle” and wrote of his disgust at the sadistic delight of some in the crowd.

But in time the incident was largely forgotten, and one of the sadder chapters of Salem’s Civil War history faded into obscurity.

Information from Dreama Freeman, relative of both the Stovers and the Owens, resident and historian of west County June 2002 (380-2298):

David L. Owens, owner of Owen’s Tank along Railroad (see Gilmer Map) married Rachel Henry. Their son Henry married Eony Ann Stover 8/4/1859. She was daughter of Lewis and Henry Snodgrass Stover, and a brother of hanged murderer James E. Stover. James was married to Julia Reynolds, daughter of Andrew Reynolds.

James and Eony’s brother David Owens Jr. married Florentine Duckwiler, a daughter of Isaac Duckwiler and Salinah Deyerle, making A. J. Deyerle’s niece a brother in law of Henry Owens. Perhaps this explains the willingness of Deyerle to arrange a plea bargain for him in exchange for Stover.

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Name Changed, But Salem Newspaper Delivered the Story

By Candy Long

Consider what you hold in your hand: an American newspaper. A part of American society, a tradition in most households for generations. And although this particular one is dedicated to the coverage of history, normally the newspaper informs the reader of the events of the day. And this one is a small local weekly—more familiar and community oriented than most. How did it transpire that Salem enjoys a weekly paper?

With the exception of the tumultuous Civil War years, a weekly Salem newspaper has made its way to front porches and mailboxes since 1854. For nearly one hundred fifty years, milestones, celebrations, and tragedies have been published with a personal touch foreign to larger, daily papers.

There were several early, short-lived papers in the valley—one as early as the 1820s. By the 1850s, the technology of the telegraph and cheaper printing was revolutionizing the industry. Early newspapers were often associated with political causes. In pre-war Salem, David Carter’s Roanoke Beacon followed a Democratic line; The Roanoke Republican endorsed the Whigs, and even the obscure Know Nothing Party had a local voice with the Mountain Signal.

Salem’s first permanent newspaper was the child of journalistic pioneer Jordan Woodrum in 1854, (making the paper you hold the oldest Salem business still in operation today). Formerly an attorney, Woodrum’s fascination with journalism caused him to give up his practice and become editor of an earlier Fincastle paper before relocating to Roanoke County to publish the fabled Salem Register. Like the Beacon, it was a democratic sounding board.

Three years later, when Woodrum retired to Bent Mountain to raise an orchard, the Register was sold to James W. Palmer and Jacob Keister. The two publishers held the paper only four short years before the paper changed hands again. In 1861, with Virginia’s secession brewing, F.J. Ribble and George Landon obtained the Register. Staunch Confederates, Ribble and Landon used this medium to rally Southern support and to cry out for a call to arms. Over one thousand local men answered the call and enlisted. Eventually, one of the editors was summoned to duty as well as other printing staff. Publication of the Register had to be suspended though not before several early Civil War battles made headlines.

Following the Civil War, questions of political allegiance led to fierce competition among papers and rapid turnover in ownership. In 1866, Charles M. Webber established the Roanoke Times, a weekly that advised conciliation with the North (not to be confused with the later and larger daily of the same name published today in Roanoke). Two years later the paper was acquired by William Hubbard and Edward McCauley, who advocated Conservative (fiercely pro-Southern) policies. However, by 1870 Charles Webber had once again taken control, reestablishing the former political ties. Webber and a partner John McCaull introduced the valley’s first cylinder press replacing the old laborious hand press.

In 1873, Webber and McCaull quarreled over editorial policies; as a result, Webber and his brother Frank ventured out with the competing Salem Weekly Register. Afterwards, The Times was sporadically published under various names. In 1883, it merged with the Register to carry the enduring banner Salem Times Register.

Local newspapers in the nineteenth century were much different than of today. Objectivity was unheard of—political partisanship both fueled funding and captured headlines. Coverage of news was sporadic at best; however, presidential affairs, economic reports, and human-interest stories wired from various cities throughout the nation occasionally made headlines. Social news and gossip (scandalous elopements, so and so is visiting her sister, etc.) was frequent article content of the period. “Spanking Machine Almost Kills Its Inventor While He is Making a Test,” the story of a local farmer/disciplinarian, actually graced the front page of an early 1900’s edition. Few of these local papers survive, but those that do are valuable historical resources.

The Times Register was not to remain long without competition. In 1894, the Salem Sentinel began rolling off the press of the McClung brothers, William and Marshall. Throughout the next decade, the two papers, though similar in many ways, were fierce rivals for both readership and advertising. Their editors frequently sniped at each other in their columns. For instance, the Times Register once accused the Sentinel of getting its news second-hand—perhaps the ultimate journalistic insult.

Thus, it must have been astonishing when in 1903 the two merged into the Salem Times Register and Sentinel. The word Sentinel was eventually dropped from the masthead, but since that day, Salem has been a one-paper town.

As the one hundred fiftieth year of the Salem Times Register rapidly approaches, we are reminded of the sense of community inspired by this publication. We all have newspaper clippings saved in our Bibles, in our scrapbooks, and on our bulletin boards. These frayed and yellowed scraps serve as mementos of special events and days worth remembering—history preserved on newsprint.

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Six Generations of Family Called this House Home

By Henry R. Bellinger

In 1868, about the same time that Moses Spurlock purchased lots as a result of an auction in downtown Salem in the black section, his brother Shirley purchased property on Government Hill, behind Longwood Park, on the street now known as Monroe St.

Shortly after the purchase of the property, Shirley built a home there (a one story cottage). In the twenties, the home then being owned by his granddaughter, Sadie Arletta and her husband, Edward D. Morrison, a floor was added and the house was bricked cased. In the early to mid thirties, a bathroom was added with cold running water.

The Spurlock family were slaves of Salem’s Nathaniel Burwell. Edward Morrison, my grandfather, was descended from William Sims, another slave on Burwell’s Dropmore plantation.

My grandmother was born in Chicago but all of her children were born in the house on Government Hill. I am the grandson of of Sadie Arletta, and I was also born there. At one time or the other, all of Sadie’s children even after they became adults and grandchildren were permanent residents. For two years while I was in Korea and in Vietnam my children, Sadie’s great grandchildren, were residing there. My son has resided there since 1996. He makes the sixth generation of our family that have lived there-- a record rivaled by few other homes in Salem.

Listed below are the names of the children and great grandchildren of Sadie Arletta Morrison that have lived there since 1912:
Willie B. Morrison - Son
Sadie E. Morrison Bellinger Harris - Daughter
Viola J. Morrison Jarvis - Daughter
Edward B. Morrison - Son
Henry R. Bellinger - Grandson
Ronald B. Morrison - Grandson
Cecil C. Morrison - Grandson
Henry R. Bellinger - Great grandson
James E. Bellinger - Great grandson
Lisa A. Bellinger - Great grandaughter

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