Elkanah and the Bond Schoolhouse Affair

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ELKANAH

A.L. Collins·Tuesday, February 12, 201915 Reads

Letter to Governor Zebulon Vance 

I am authorized and requested by Chief Justice Pearson to lay before your Excellency the following facts, There is a man in Yadkin county near Mount Nebo . . . named Elkanah Willard, who openly defied the law, first, By rescueing his brother who is a conscript (he himself is not) from a guard who had him in custody by a display of arms and open force. Secondly, by putting Capt Fleming and the men accompanying him at defiance, in such a way that they were obliged to shoot him down or rush upon him armed as he was at the imminent danger of their lives The Capt says he could have shot him down or at the risk of his life have attempted to arrest him but as he was a man of most desperate character and has 5 older brothers as bad as himself, the better plan he thought was to let him alone —      Henry W. Ayer -November 10, 1862

Elkanah Willard was not with his four brothers, William, Leander, Milton, and Benjamin on February 12, 1863, but according to witnesses, “the Willard boys did most of the shooting”.  In the winter of 1863, nearly a hundred young men from Yadkin County took to the woods to avoid being conscripted into the Confederate Army.  Home Guard and Militia sought to arrest them, but well hidden and supplied by friends and neighbors, it was not an easy task.  These skulkers were often friends, neighbors, and even family.   On the night of February 11, 1863, it was snowing in Yadkin County. The Willard boys and 12 other young men took refuge inside the Bond School House in the Deep Creek Friends community just a short ride from the county seat in Yadkinville.  These young men were not Quaker pacifists, nor ardent Union sympathizers.  They were yeomen farm boys, not slave owners. Their reluctance to serve was not as much political as practical.  

Jesse Virgil Dobbins

Most said that Jesse Virgil Dobbins was their leader.  Standing almost six foot tall, the 34-year-old farmer and Miller was dark featured. His family home was between the schoolhouse and Yadkinville. He was an outspoken Unionist saying: “I think the Union men had the same cause to rebel against the so-called Confederacy as our forefathers had to rebel against the British government.”  He planned to lead these young men on a dangerous journey across the Blue Ridge to the safety of the Union troops in Tennessee.  On the morning of February 12, they gathered by a fire inside the one-room log school house, when a comrade arrived with a newspaper.  Everyone huddled together to read the news of the war.

Captain James West

No one knows who told Captain James West of the presence of the skulkers at the Bond School House.  This should be no surprise for to this day, there are few secrets in Yadkin County, and everyone is related.  Maybe it was the smoke from the chimney of the schoolhouse that alerted a passerby.  Most likely, Captain West received the news on the night of February 11th.   Captain West was a tall good looking man of  42 years of age.  Leading the Home Guard was a thankless task. County Solicitor R.F. Armfield wrote Governor Zebulon Vance of his efforts saying that the militia had “exerted themselves with great zeal” in the pursuit of deserters.   Captain West, hearing of the men hold up in the Bond School House sent out word and soon had a posse of armed men, one of whom was my distant relative  Joel “Poindexter” Reece. He also reported the news to Confederate militia Captain William Sanford “Billy” Williams who gathered a few members of his troop.    Leaving Yadkinville that morning by the Boonville Road,  they stopped at the home of Daniel Vestal.  Seeing the large group of armed men, the lady of the house inquired of their intentions.  When told, she looked at Captain West and exclaimed: “And Ye will get thy head shot off  thy shoulders too!”

Owing either to the snowy weather or the interest in the news being read, Jesse Virgil Dobbins failed to station a picket around the schoolhouse.   The Militia supported by the Home Guard members were able to come upon the schoolhouse undetected.   Surrounding the schoolhouse, guns were soon inserted in between the logs in the wall and opened fire.  The schoolhouse was soon covered in smoke, bullets embedded in the walls, screams and panic ensued.   Jesse Dobbins sought refuge beneath a bench. Solomon Hinshaw lay on the floor bleeding from a bullet wound to his heart with an uneaten biscuit still in his mouth. Seeing this, Jesse’s boys commenced to screaming and cursing when the door suddenly opened. There, bravely standing, with a pistol in one hand was Captain James West, demanding their surrender. It is believed that one of the Willard boys answered by shoving his gun into the Captain’s face.  Before he could fire, the brave Captain shoved the gun from his face, the gun blast nearly severing a ceiling joist.  Another gunshot found its mark hitting Captain Jame West below his left eye, shattering his skull, killing him instantly.   One witness describing him as a “lifeless, and headless form, almost all of his head being shot off.”  Most folks believe Benjamin Willard fired the shot that killed James West, but Jesse Dobbins got the blame.

As with most armed encounters, the smoke, the confusion was intermixed by random gunfire.  Both sides shot at each other, and most shots missed.  When the smoke cleared, militiaman John Williams and conscript Eck Algood also lay dead.    The Willard boys escaped with Benjamin suffering a gunshot wound.  Jesse Dobbins with his brother William and at least three others also managed to outrun or outsmart his captors.   Not stopping until he traveled 5oo miles to Kentucky and signing up with the Union Army.  Records show that Jesse Dobbins enlisted with the Union Army on February 27,1863  as a wagon master with a Tennessee Artillery Unit.  He served honorably and upon discharge when the war ended, he returned to Yadkinville.   The local sheriff seeing him approached him and attempted to place him under arrest.  It seems that on February 16, 1863, a grand jury had indicted him for the murder of Captain James West.  Jesse struggled free, mounted a horse and rode to Salisbury where he found a contingent of Union soldiers.   Local legend says that Jesse returning with the soldiers, a Union Colonel persuaded the clerk of court from the tip of a sword to burn the indictment against Jesse Virgil Dobbins and all others involved with the Bond School House Affair.  Truth is Jesse ended up with the indictments as they were found years later in a family trunk by his grandchildren. Still, no one was ever prosecuted for the death of James West and John Williams.

Brother Milton Willard escaped and actually ended up in the Confederate Army serving in Virginia. In 1864, like many conscripted soldier, he deserted, was captured and was eventually executed.  William Willard and three others were arrested trying to cross the Blue Ridge and were first imprisoned at Camp Vance near Morganton.   Knowing that they were wanted in Yadkin County for their part in the Bond School House affair, Confederate authorities were reluctant to keep them in a military prison, they interned them in the Yadkin County Jail.   That’s where Elkana Willard stepped in.  He led group Unionist known as the Heroes of America,  who soon descended upon the jail, releasing his brother and comrades.  Linking up with brothers Leander and Benjamin, they again attempted to cross the Blue Ridge into Tennessee and were ambushed by the North Carolina militia and were sent to Camp Vance where they promptly escaped.   Captured again, Elkana was placed in the Burke County jail in Morganton.  His brothers were offered to Yadkin County and when they demurred were sent to the Forsyth County jail in Winston.

There are no details as to how Elkana escaped from the Morganton jail, but he did.  The other brothers managed to escape the Forsyth County jail the day before they were to be executed.  Their escape was described in the newspaper of the day:

The last place [William, Benjamin, and Lee Willard] broke jail was Winston [in Forsyth County, North Carolina]. A sister of the Willard boys secreted an auger and a chisel upon her person, left her home in Yadkin County and went to Winston and after undergoing a rigid examination by the jailor, she was permitted to go up stairs to see her brothers. When she left the jail she left the auger and chisel with them. With the auger and chisel, they bored and cut out of the jail and made good their escape, and avoided being shot or hanged, as a detachment of state militia had been ordered there to take them out and hang or shoot them, and arrived the day after they escaped.

War is over

To this day Yadkin County is the only county in the state and among the very few in the country to have to have never voted for a Democrat for President.  Some attribute this to the Bond School House Affair and the deprivation visited upon the county by the Confederacy.  I tend to think the fine people of this county have an independent streak that is in their blood and is rekindled by their working the red clay soil of their farms.   Whether Jesse Virgil Dobbins is a hero or traitor, I don’t know. Like most who fought in the Civil War, both North and South, he was caught up in something beyond his control.  Nevertheless, I think his post war observation of best tells his story:  “I was willing to join the United States army for the purpose of fighting for the Liberty of my Dear country that is more preshus than gold. The rebs say that I am a traitor to my country. Why tis this, because I am for a majority a ruling and for keeping the power in the people.”

This is my interpretation of this event from which I have drawn greatly upon the work cited below:

https://neilwillard.com/2018/02/25/my-slave-owning-ancestor-part-ix/

https://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/02/28/blood-in-the-carolina-hills/

https://books.google.com/books?id=HwL_IdbN580C&pg=PA89&lpg=PA89&dq=%22Willard+boys+did+most+of+the+shooting.%22%22&source=bl&ots=Dv1J0CubcC&sig=wnN28x-NFiAYV5_Z12l3F1ekbCk&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjDzeW_8r7ZAhUD0IMKHdtpCmwQ6AEIKTAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

Fearlessly Adorned

The Memoir of J Frances Norman Collins

(Delivered at her service, July 19, 2018 by A.L. Collins)

“The Savior’s blood and righteousness,

My beauty is my glorious dress

Thus well arrayed I need not fear

When in His presence I appear”

Near midnight on Friday, July 13, 2018, Frances Norman Collins took her last breath and entered into the more immediate presence of her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Her earthly body was transformed into a spiritual body, her mind is now clear, her legs now work again, she is no longer in pain and every tear has been wiped from her eyes.  Standing fearlessly adorned with the grace of Christ Jesus, she heard the words: “Well done good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy Lord”

The Bible tells us of a servant of the Lord named Joshua, who was commanded to lead the children of Israel across the Jordan into the promised land of Canaan.  When the priests carried the Ark of the Covenant to the riverside, the river parted as they stepped into the water. With the Ark standing in the middle of the river, the children of Israel passed into the land of Canaan on a dry river bed. Joshua commanded that twelve stones be removed from the river bed and using them to erect an altar on the river bank saying: "That this may be a sign among you when your children ask in time to come, saying, 'What do these stones mean to you?' Then you shall answer them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD; when it crossed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. And these stones shall be for a memorial to the children of Israel forever" (Joshua 4:6-7).

Standing stones have been used throughout antiquity and during the present day to proclaim significant events. Arrayed around us in God’s Acre is a Moravian version of standing stones.  Recumbent white stones signifying the unity of death have been erected here for over two centuries. Each stone, the marker of a departed member of our denomination, proclaims the majesty of God through the life well lived.

My mother was born into an established Methodist family in Yadkin County but nevertheless, has many relatives buried in this place. The Collins family dates to 1838, but my mother’s great grandmother was Sarah Jane Vogler whose lineage dates to the founding of Salem. 

Moravians have a peculiar custom.  On the Saturday before Easter, we come to this place to clean and decorate the graves of family members.   It is our custom to pass along an oral history of what we know of each family member.  I have pondered during the last week, what her stone will mean to me? I wonder what story we shall tell of Frances Norman Collins.

She was born February 14, 1925, to Henry Arvil Norman and his wife, Bessie Reece Norman in the Smithtown Community in Yadkin County.  Her father was a barber, store owner, horse trader, and farmer.  He had the distinct talent of being a diviner, someone who could find water by holding a peach tree limb.  Frances and her brother Ray were raised on a farm. She often told of how she avoided working in the fields by tending the general store.  She would brag that she learned to drive a truck at age 13 and would pump gas in old timey glass canister pumps.

       She got her faith from New Home Methodist Church and her education from East Bend School. At school, she was a good student and a member of the girls’ basketball team.  She graduated in the 11^th grade and went to Lenior Rhyne College for a year.  In 1942, her life was forever changed by a blind date with a soldier boy from Winston-Salem, Harry Lee Collins, Jr.  They fell instantly in love and not six months later, on September 7, 1942, they eloped to South Carolina and got married.  She was 17 years old.  He was 22 years old and AWOL from the Army.

After following him from base to base, she waited patiently for him as he was deployed overseas. Their first child, Rebecca Jean Collins was born May 6, 1944.  In 1945, holding a baby doll, my father returned from war service to be greeted by Becky who exclaimed: “there is my sweet daddy with my baby doll!”

They initially resided in Smithtown in a house beside her parents.  Frances and Harry both worked for R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Company.  In 1951, they moved to 1220 Ebert Street in Winston-Salem and soon thereafter became members of Ardmore Moravian Church.  On April 11, 1957, they were blessed with a son, Arvil Lee Collins, who was soon nicknamed “Buddy”.  Moving to 2087 Hawthorne Road in 1958, they raised their family in the Ardmore Community.  Their 60-year marriage ended in Harry’s death on January 20, 2003. 

During their retirement, Frances and Harry moved to Kernersville living next door to their son and enjoying the love, laughter and energy of two of their grandchildren, Whitney Hunter (Gray) and David Collins. She was also very proud of her granddaughters, Tori Whalen and April Manuel (Keith) whom she spoiled with love, affection and constant attention.  Always available for a chat, a meal or just a phone call, Frances remained a part of their lives until her death.

Her long life allowed her to see two great-grandchildren, Heather Millsaps (Ryan Moore) and Bay Routh graduate from college and began their careers.  Great-grandchildren, Will Hunter, and Salem Hunter are young children but were showered with her love during frequent visits with her at Trinity Elms Retirement Center in Clemmons.

Forsaking public work at R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Company in 1957, Frances became a homemaker and a fantastic cook. She was a friend to many and loved by all who were embraced by her gentle spirit. While active in many church, school, and civic endeavors, Frances and Harry found their greatest joy as members of the Camel Caravan and Airstream travel trailer clubs where they made a host of friends as they traveled throughout the country.

The Apostle Peter instructed early Christians to be like Jesus and become living stones.  No doubt daily proclaiming what inanimate stone altars once proclaimed.  Peter explains: “But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you” (1^st Peter 2:9-10)

 Frances Collins was not only a living stone, she was our rock.

What we know about love, we learned from her.  We often would say to her in her last days: “I love you” To which she would reply: “I love you more” - something we never really doubted.  For you see she taught us that love is not a noun.  It is not something that is done to you.  No, love is a verb.  It is something you do for others.  If you met her, you were loved by her.

What we know about faith, we learned from her.   She taught us that faith means “putting your full confidence in things hoped for…being certain of things we cannot see…” (Hebrews 11 1,6). She often told us that “there is nothing going to happen to me today that me and my Lord can’t handle”.  She lived her faith in a life of quiet confidence, resilience, and patience.

What we know about hope, we learned from her.  Life taught her that “patient endurance develops a mature character and a character of this sort produces a steady hope.” (Rom. 5:4-5) That hope was conveyed to us by her unquestioned belief in each of us. Sometimes it was conveyed by a gentle word of encouragement, other times all it took was a stern look of expectation, but it always was accompanied by a warm embrace. At times when we did not believe in ourselves, we found that she believed in us, and somehow that was enough to keep us going.

She not only did this for her family but did it for others as well.  A few years ago, a first-grade classmate contacted me soon after my Mom entered assisted living.  She explained that as a young girl she always looked up to my Mom whose only contact with her was when Mom served as an elementary school grade mother.  My friend explained: “She always made me feel special and that is a feeling that gives you eternal warmth when thoughts turn to that person. I expect that she had that effect on more than a few and in my opinion, that's a pretty significant legacy to leave behind.”

Some years ago, I heard Dr. Billy Graham respond to a question about heaven.  He was asked if he expected his dog to be in heaven with him.     Dr. Graham responded by saying that he believed that heaven was a place where his every joy would be fulfilled.  And, if God believed to have his dog with him would accomplish that, then he expected to see his dog in heaven.  So, I began to ponder what heaven must be like for my mom. 

Ruth Briles Martin, one of our Camel Caravan Trailer Club children, and I discussed the happy reunion that must be taking place as she joined her Camel Caravan friends around a large campfire, eating doughboys roasted over the fire, swapping stories and singing Gospel hymns. Heaven will only be complete for my Mom if she is surrounded by her friends.

Her joy would not be complete without my father.  For 60 years they lived a fairytale love affair.  They worked together, laughed together, cried to together, danced and traveled.  While they were very different, their lives meshed together in a way that completed them both. Heaven will only be complete for her if they are reunited.

Still, the one thing that brought my Mom the most joy was being with her family.  We gathered together often on holidays and birthdays.  She embraced that time and soaked in the laughter and the love that surrounded her.  Her joy will not be complete until we can be with her again. 

The writer of Hebrews observes: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Heb. 12:1). 

Her eternal hope for us is that we will respond to that small voice within our souls.  That we will grow in faith. That we shall run the race before us with the same perseverance we have witnessed in her life. And, that one day we too may join with her before the throne of grace, fearlessly adorned in righteousness, and hear those words: “Well done faithful servant.  Well done indeed!”

Frances Norman Collins was born February 14, 1925.  She died July 13, 2018.  She was 93 years old.

A long life…well lived…we are blessed.

Thanks be to God. Hallelujah!   Amen.