Mary Noble … war hero Still Got Cotton in My Blood

or years we taught the destruction of Rome by Federal forces in 1864, based almost solely on the diary of businessman Reuben Norton, who did keep an impeccable journal. Then, in 2002, Russell McClanahan found a number of hand written letters by Mary Noble that had been filed at the University of North Carolina library at Chapel Hill.

Reading through the letters, Russell saw one that caught his eye, and he began to transcribe. It’s a letter from Mary to a friend named Lelia, who is located, most likely in the Carolina’s. It’s impossible to know if the letter made it to Lelia, and how it was secured by UNC. Yes, those things matter, but the content was the first documentation and corroboration of Mr. Norton’s description in his journal.

In fact, Mary goes a little further and more in depth in her writings. I want to share some of it with you, so sit back and be proud you weren’t here at that time to witness what our town went through. Writing to Lelia on Nov. 20, 1864: “O! this war is an awful affair! I’m just now feeling it with all its horrors, and can more truly sympathize with refugees than ever before. We’ve seen some sad times, but now the Yankee’s have left us free once more, yet we’re worse off than ever. There is a set of guerilla’s infesting the place. They’re here robbing, murdering, and plundering helpless men and women, and we have no protection.

We suffered considerably from the Yankees, too. They took all we had. They burned our furnace, flour and saw mill in Alabama, took all our horses, mules, oxen, cows, pigs, chickens, and then came to Rome and burnt the rolling mill, foundry and machine shop when they evacuated Rome.

The common soldiers were in a very demoralized condition and were continually threatening to burn our houses. Then on Thursday night they did commence to burn. They fired the cotton warehouses, depot.

The wind rose and flakes of fire were falling all around us. Then they set fire to the buildings up town, and to their own tents and camps. It was a most beautiful, yet at the same time, a most terrible spectacle; the whole town was as light as day, and we expected to see new flames arise every moment, but about midnight the fires subsided, we sat up all night expecting more fire. The next morning it was worse than last night, around eight o’clock they started to burn again, and even the provost guard couldn’t stop them.”

Mary gives a vivid description of the burning of Rome as the Union forces finally leave the town smoldering. But in her letter she now says things get worse.

The first Confederates to enter Rome almost immediately after the Yankee’s left were under the command of a Capt. Colquitt. He was a deserter from the 11th Texas. His men were all deserters too, and were desperate looking characters.

Since they were the first “gray coats” to come into town in over six months, the people were crazy about them. The girls of Rome all went down to the river bank and welcomed them in, and “committed a thousand extravagant undignified acts.”

“Our joy was of short duration, for that night they hung old Mr. Burwell, and Peter Omberg, until they were nearly dead, to make them give up their money, they took fourteen hundred dollars in gold and five hundred forty in green backs, two gold watches, all their tobacco and clothes. Then to Mr. J.J. Cohen and robbed him, and robbed Mrs. Lumpkin of all her provisions including her false teeth.”

Mary says it was quiet for several days, and they began robbing folks again, this time shooting and killing Mr. Omberg.

She can’t comprehend why a just God would allow such men to succeed, and feels he has his own mysterious ways of punishing vice. And he did.

I need to run a rabbit right here. Colquitt and his gang robbed a Mr. Pryor near Cedartown. They called him to the gate in front of his house and murdered him.

When the war was over his son John returned and discovered what had happened. The story goes that he began to hunt the members of the gang down and kill them one by one. He killed one in Paulding County we’re told.

He found the one that shot his father while he was plowing in his field. The story goes that when John Pryor rode up on him he asked if he could tell his wife and family goodbye. Pryor asked him, did you let my father tell his family goodbye, and killed him with his wife running across the field.

The one I like best was he caught Colquitt in Cedartown in a bar drunk, and introduced himself. Colquitt went for his gun and Pryor shot him from less than three feet away. The story goes that smoke rings came out his mouth as he fell dead. Pryor did recover a gold watch from one of his victims that belonged to one of the poor soul’s in Rome.

Mary closes to Lelia wishing either side would send a small force to Rome to protect the citizens.

Another of Mary’s letters is dated Aug. 16, 1862, way before Rome is burned. It’s addressed to Lt. Thomas D. Attaway, 21st Georgia Regiment. This regiment was under the overall command of General Thomas Jackson. It’s basically a girlfriend to boyfriend letter, a twenty-one year old woman missing her boyfriend, who’s off fighting for his country. She is filling him in on what all their friends are doing, and who is home on leave, the ones already killed, how much she’s worried about him, and wishes he was home.

I doubt the letter ever made it to him. I hope it did, but he was killed on Aug. 28, 1862. Later the City of Rome would build a fort where the Japanese restaurant is now located, and name it for him.

Mary would live till 1930 and never marry. I guess she meant what she said to this young soldier.

The Nobles weren’t through in the foundry business. They basically founded a little Alabama town and named it Anniston after the daughter of their partner, General Daniel Tyler.

Next week we get back to the Foundries of Rome, unless something interesting pops up. MIKE RAGLAND