Anson County NcArchives Photo Person.....Fenton, Edmund Forrest 
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James Covington nedcovington@aol.com March 24, 2008, 9:50 pm

Source:             Personal
Name:               Edmund Forrest Fenton
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Edmund Forrest Fenton

(March 11, 1842 - February 28, 1923)

Edmund Forrest Fenton served with Company "C," 14th Regiment, North Carolina 
Volunteers, Army of Northern Virginia, also known as "The Anson Guards," from 
Anson County, Wadesboro, North Carolina, during the War Between the States, 
(1861-1865).  Fenton, a relative of the great 19th Century actor, Edwin 
Forrest (1806-1872), was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, but moved to 
Wadesboro as a youth.  He enlisted in the Anson Guards at age 19 on April 22, 
1861.  He was present or accounted for until wounded at Malvern Hill, 
Virginia, on July 1, 1862 during the "Seven Days Battle" for the defense of 
Richmond [this battle was the first for General Robert E. Lee as Commander of 
the Army of Northern Virginia.  After seven days of fierce fighting, he turned 
back invading Union forces under General George McClellan to protect the 
capital city of the Confederacy].  Fenton returned to duty prior to March 1, 
1863, and was present or accounted for until he lost his left arm at the 
Battle of Chancellorsville, Virginia, on May 5, 1863 [Lee's greatest victory 
was at Chancellorsville, but the battle also claimed the life of Thomas 
J. "Stonewall" Jackson, his greatest general - perhaps altering the course of 
the entire War].  Fenton was reported "absent wounded" until he was retired to 
the Invalid Corps on April 26, 1864.

Following the War, Fenton's enduring passions were the Justness of the 
Southern Cause [he was an active member of the "United Confederate Veterans" 
for the remainder of his life, earning the rank of Major before his death] and 
challenging the perception that the loss of his arm was a disability in any 
way.  To the end, Fenton fiercely defended his ability to perform any task 
just as well as the next man.

His passion for self-reliance was vividly demonstrated more than 50 years 
after the War, when Fenton's teenage grandson, James Edwin (Ned) Covington, 
tied the empty left sleeve of his shirt to the frame of a doorless pickup 
truck - ostensibly to "keep Grandpappy from falling out" as they took a ride.  
When Fenton realized that he had been unwittingly tethered and patronized, he 
reacted spontaneously.  He began flailing furiously with his good right fist 
at his mischievous grandson, who was so overcome with laughter that he nearly 
wrecked the truck.  He did manage to stop the vehicle quickly and to gain his 
timely escape.  It was only the fact that Fenton, then well into his 70s, was 
secured by his shirt sleeve to the truck frame that prevented young Covington 
from receiving a sound whipping on the spot.

Fenton passed away in Rockingham, North Carolina, on February 28, 1923, eleven 
days before his 81st birthday.  He was survived by his wife of 56 years (who 
died eight years later - their obituaries appear on pages 5 and 6 of this 
paper), his daughter, Ila Fenton Covington, his son, E. Victor Fenton, ten 
grand children and eight great grand children.  He and his wife are buried in 
Eastview Cemetery in Wadesboro.  Some interesting insights on his life can be 
gained from a volume entitled "The Anson Guards," which depicts the history of 
the military unit and its members, with whom Edmund Fenton so proudly served 
during the great conflict.

                            *    *    *

Excerpts from: "The Anson Guards: History of Company "C" 14th Regiment North 
Carolina Volunteers, Army of Northern Virginia," by Maj. W.A. Smith, Stone 
Publishing Company, Charlotte, NC, 1914.

Preface: "We cheerfully acknowledge the valuable and material assistance 
received from the…writings of Edmund F. Fenton,…"

p. 15 [in reference to the authenticity of the writings], "These pages have 
been reviewed, verified, confirmed and approved by Sergeant Fenton and others."

p. 49  [roster of the Anson Guards, April 25, 1862].  Listed among the 
Privates is: Fenton, E. F.

p. 68 [in reference to body lice], "E. F. Fenton writes, 'The boys kept it hid 
as long as they could.  They would sneak off by themselves, disrobe and the 
slaughter would commence.  I had a full supply on my person and on retiring to 
the woods came across Charlie Cox.  He had his top garments off and was busy 
slaughtering in the usual way, by pressing them between his thumb 
nails.'  'Hello, Charlie!  What you doing?'

'Mending my shirt,' was the prompt reply and slipped on his shirt.

'Now, old boy,' I replied, 'you know you were killing lice.  I am full of them 
and so are all the boys in the company.  No more lies; we are in for it and 
you know it, so let's own up.'"

p. 132 [in reference to Southern families who were hospitable to the 
Confederate 1soldiers that had been wounded in battle], "Of these good people, 
E. F. Fenton thus writes: 'I was slightly wounded at Malvern Hill and detailed 
to take the wounded to Richmond, then report to Colonel Bennett, who was 
convalescing at Captain Epps' [home].  A private in the ranks, I was treated 
as an honored guest - the same hospitality was extended to me as to the 
officers who were fortunate to be quartered there.  You, also, were there, 
Major Smith, suffering with wounds that have not healed to this day, and I 
believe it was mainly through the tender nursing of these people your life was 
preserved.  Ever after this, members of Company C, Fourteenth Regiment North 
Carolina Volunteers were subject of their tender love and devotion.  If you, 
dear Major, can convey to their children the gratitude an old friend feels for 
such favors at such times you will be doing the writer an act of kindness.  
May God's tender care be with those who live and may the turf over the graves 
of the departed be ever green.'"

pp. 162-163 [in reference to packages mailed from home, and the sharing of 
their contents with comrades], "E. F. Fenton writes: 'The only exception known 
in our company was one, Kiah C--- [actually, Hezekiah B. Carpenter, who fought 
bravely and survived the entire War, surrendering at Appomattox Court House, 
Virginia, on April 9, 1865].  He received a box and concealed it.  After taps 
and all were quietly sleeping, he made preparations for a solitary feast.  
James Smart and the writer were 'spooning' beautifully and sleeping the sleep 
of the just.  [We were] Wakened by the noise made by breaking a stick of wood, 
[and] Kiah was seen mending up the fire beneath a pot of cooking backbones and 
turnips.  A savory aroma came to the nostrils of a hungry Reb.  The odor from 
the boiling pot was appetizing.  I roused Jim.  He got a sniff and knew what 
was going on.

[I said] 'Jim, why in the devil don't you lie still?  If you can't sleep, get 
up and let me sleep.'

'Jim got up, went to the fire and proceeded to get busy.  Kiah informed him 
there was but little in the pot - enough for one - not enough for two, and 'I 
don't want your help.''

'As Jim could not share, the only thing was to make it unfit for this cur.  
Jim left the fire and took a seat.  After a while he rose with a lump of lye 
soap in his hand, stood around the fire and unseen dropped it in the pot and 
returned to his pallet.  We watched the denouement.  Soon the pot began to 
foam and boil over.  Kiah stirred and stirred vigorously.  All in vain.  He 
set it off and prepared to eat.  The first mouthful was sufficient, and the 
last.  He recognized the trick and knew the hand that had ruined his feast, 
but did not dare do or say anything.  He emptied the pot and slunk away to his 
pallet.  Next morning Jim picked up the backbones, washed them and our mess 
relished the stew for breakfast and [we] 'were filled.'  It leaked and Kiah C--
- became a pariah.  He was a most excellent soldier and soon [was] restored to 
favor.  The lesson was severe but lasting.'"

p. 163 [in reference to dancing - a favorite pastime with the company - often 
with a rag tied around the left arm to denote the lady], "E. F. Fenton would 
dexterously cut the pigeon wing, taking many quaint and curious steps in 
execution thereof.  The dance usually programmed for the close was Chicken in 
the Breadtray.  It is a favorite negro dance.  By the movement of the feet, 
hands and head representation is made of a chicken picking the remnants of 
dough from a breadtray.  The execution by our boys, like all imitations, was 
inferior to the darkies, who are expert dancers, but we looked on and engaged 
in the sport with great zest and enjoyment."

p. 190 [in describing the Battle of Chancellorsville], "One of the writers of 
this book, Sergt. E. F. Fenton, had his arm shot off this May the 5th [1863].  
A gallant lad, a boon companion, ever ready for frolic and fun, and just as 
ready for the serious duties of the camp, and more than ready for a fight.  A 
brush with the enemy was his delight.  It was he who often buoyed up the 
drooping spirits of the boys when so greatly fatigued they thought they could 
not drag one foot after the other, by his rollicking good humor, his songs and 
jokes.  Born in Philadelphia, [he] came to Wadesboro, N.C., a boy of 12 
years.  He volunteered in the beginning, did his full duty as a soldier, [was] 
loved by his companions, respected and honored by his superior officers 
(superior in office only); in education, in habits, in birth, a gentlemen, 
which is more, much more, than can be said for many who wore officers' 
uniforms.

Many privates in the Confederate ranks were superior in birth and education to 
the officers who owed their commissions to popularity or favoritism.  This was 
baneful to our army."

p. 257 [facing page in the original volume, not reproduced in the reprinted 
version], photograph of Sergt. E. F. Fenton.

p. 317 [in reference to Fenton's comrade, James A. Smart].  "Fourth corporal.  
Was a genial companion, a bunkmate of Sergt. E. F. Fenton's.  Fenton writing, 
says: 'Bedclothes, like wearing apparel, was not too plentiful and in the cold 
nights the nearer together we could sleep the warmer.  Jim could spoon 
beautifully and the way that boy could hug you was a sight.  His body was like 
a warm stove.'  He was desperately wounded at Spottsylvania and was left on 
the field for dead.  The third day, when we recovered the ground, there was 
Jim, still living.  His face was white like cotton from loss of blood.  The 
minie ball made an opening in his breast through which he could breathe.  He 
asked for something to eat.  The boys' bunched haversacks were opened, which 
furnished a square meal for him.  Strengthened by this food, he was taken to 
the surgeon.  He pulled through (you can't kill some folks), and he is still 
surviving the war this 28th day of February, 1914, and long may he wave."

pp. 328-330 [biographical sketch]

EDMUND F. FENTON

"Son to C. W. and M. R. Fenton.  Was born in Philadelphia, Pa., the Keystone 
State - the State in which the great battle of Gettysburg was fought [July, 
1863], by historians generally regarded as the decisive battle of the war.  
[It was the] "High Tide of the Confederacy."  This brave lad was born March 
11, 1842.  At the age of thirteen he came with his parents to Wadesboro, N.C.  
He was engaged in The [Anson County] Argus office.  Employment in a newspaper 
establishment is an education within itself.  This, we take it, enabled him in 
after life to express his thoughts so clearly and to the point.  He became an 
expert typesetter, which was quite an acquisition before the invention of 
typesetting machines.  As a printer he became conversant with the best 
thought, clothed in selected words and phrases.  This kept him abreast of the 
times and made him familiar with the progressive thought of the day.  The 
encroachment made by Northern people upon the South, the Dred Scott decision, 
the underground railroad, and tirades of Abolitionists made a genuine States 
Rights boy of him.  When Abraham Lincoln called for troops to invade the 
South, he sprang to arms and volunteered into the ranks among the foremost in 
defense of North Carolina, his adopted state.  Oh!  It makes me tired to hear 
people say we boys and the South fought to maintain the institution of 
slavery.  Ed Fenton had no slaves to fight for and yet no truer, nobler and 
more unselfish boy ever gave his blood and his arm to the cause.  Maj. J. M. 
Wall says: 'Only one soldier in eighty-nine owned a slave.'  Ed deserves far 
more credit and recognition than has been awarded him.  Without reward, or the 
hope of reward, heroically he stood by side of those to the manner born, 
touching elbows with the bravest and best and [he was] numbered with them.  He 
was the life of the camp, the bivouac and the fatiguing march, and ever ready 
to trip the light, fantastic toe [i.e., dance].  For his bravery he was made a 
sergeant in the company and bore his honors with sangfroid that made him a 
great favorite.  Calm and cool in battle, he deliberately loaded and 
discharged his musket with telling effect - 'none faltered, all did well, some 
outdid themselves.'  Ed was on the line of the sharpshooters the 5th of May, 
1863, when he gave the blood of his left arm - nearest to his heart - for the 
cause of States Rights and Southern independence.  His colonel wrote as 
follows: 'I remembered Edmund Fenton coming in from these lines with his arm 
shattered by a ball and blood spurting from his wound at every step.  I tied a 
gallows string around his arm and he walked to the surgeon's knife with 
unruffled patience.'  He loved his comrades and [later] returned to comfort 
them, with boxes of good things sent by the home folk, to the boys at the 
front.  After the war he found a helpmeet indeed in the fair daughter of John 
D. Smith.  He was honored by his fellow citizens with the responsible office 
of coroner for the county for twelve long years.  No veteran has done more for 
his old comrades or has more in mind to aid and comfort them in their 
declining years.  At the last meeting of the Anson Camp he was voted a ten-
dollar gold piece in recognition of his services and as a slight testimonial 
of their esteem.  He said to the writer: 'I shall keep this as a souvenir, 
have it suitably engraved and leave it with my Cross of Honor as an heirloom 
when I go hence.'"

                            *    *    *

Obituaries:

Capt. E. F. Fenton

	Capt. E. F. Fenton gently passed away Tuesday night [February 28, 
1923] at the home of his daughter, Mrs. J. A. Covington here [Rockingham].  He 
had been in feeble health for several years, and had simply grown weaker and 
weaker.  The remains were carried to Wadesboro after dinner today, and the 
funeral held at the beautiful Wadesboro cemetery.

	The Captain was a brave soldier of the Confederacy.  He served in the 
Co. C, 14th North Carolina, and lost an arm in the bitter fight of 
Chancellorsville.  Last year he was appointed on Gen. W. A. Smith's staff 
[Smith was author of "The Anson Guards"], with the rank of Major.  Major 
Fenton would have been 83 [sic.] years old March 11.  In his young manhood he 
joined the Odd Fellows at Wadesboro.  That lodge subsequently died, and it was 
rather a coincidence that he should have passed away just as his old Lodge was 
being revived, or reinstated, this ceremony taking place by Grand Lodge 
officers at Wadesboro Tuesday night.

	Surviving are his widow and two children - Mrs. J. A. Covington, of 
Rockingham, and Victor Fenton of Wadesboro.  The Captain always had a kind and 
cheery word for everyone, and lived a life of simplicity and good-will to his 
fellow-man.  One more fine old veteran has gone to join Lee and Jackson.

Mrs. E. F. Fenton

	Mrs. E. F. Fenton died Feb. 15th [1931] at the home of her son in 
Wadesboro.  The funeral was held there Monday, attended by a number of kindred 
from Rockingham.

	Mrs. Fenton was in her 89th year - born Sept. 20, 1842.  She was 
married to Capt. E. F. Fenton in 1867, he dying in February, 1923; they had 
been married 56 tears.  Capt. Fenton was born in the North, in Philadelphia, 
but at the outset of the War Between the States he was living in Wadesboro.  
He very promptly cast in his lot with his adopted people, was one of the first 
to enlist and lost an arm in battle.

	Mrs. Fenton had been spending most of her time in Rockingham at the 
home of her daughter, Mrs. Jas. A. Covington; but last fall she went to 
Wadesboro to spend the winter with her son, and died while there.

MRS. E. F. FENTON

	Mrs. Edward [sic.] Forrest Fenton, wife of the late Major Edward 
[sic.] Forrest Fenton, quietly passed away after an illness of two weeks at 
the home of her son, Mr. E. V. Fenton of Wadesboro, with whom she was spending 
the winter.  The burial took place Monday at 3 o'clock at the beautiful 
Wadesboro cemetery.

	Mrs. Fenton was born September 20th, 1842 and was married December 
31st, 1867 to Major Edward [sic.] Forrest Fenton who was a brave soldier of 
the Confederacy.  He served in Company C, 14th N. C., and lost an arm in the 
fight of Chancellorsville.  Major Fenton died February 28th, 1923, eighty 
years of age.

	Mrs. Fenton is survived by two children, Mrs. Ila F. Covington of 
Rockingham and Mr. E. V. Fenton of Wadesboro, ten grand children and eight 
great grand children, and one sister, Miss Rose Smith.

                            *    *    *

Poems (handwritten in pencil, on the inner cover of "Reunion of United 
Confederate Veterans, Proceedings, Held in Washington, DC, June 4, 5, 6 and 7, 
1917").

Front cover:

The men who fight in France today  [World War I]
Are the sons of men who wore the gray.
And yet we're taxed to feed the blue,
But not a cent comes back to you.

The blood you shed has caused a stain.
To wipe it out has been in vain.

That's what they say in story.

Back cover:

But there is one that holds the scale
   Upright, honest, just
T'is honor and she guards the mounds
   That hold their sacred trust.

T'is she that keeps them evergreen,
   Decks them with fragrant flowers
Mortals may not see her favor
   But she is present every hour.

She swears as long as time shall last,
   On land or on the wave,
Shall have the starry banner
   Always floating o'er their grave.

Your work is done - sweet peace has come.
   Heaven calls off the play.
But the verdict of the world is,
   You boys have saved the day.

Then unfurl the starry banner,
   And let it o'er them wave.
Cowards may not touch its folds.
   Its only for the brave.

                            *    *    *

Other selected poetry/writings of Edmund F. Fenton, as printed in undated 
media sources.

             "STARS AND STRIPES"

It is a wonderful flag that "Old Betsy" made,
And we sometimes call it "Old Glory."
It and its history is known to the world
For it is famous in song and story.

In every clime it is bathed in glory
With a pride we love to see;
And this is why we tell the story
I to you and you to me.

Tell it often, tell it gladly,
To the bound and to the free,
Never, never tell it sadly
For "this flag" has smiles for "thee."

A protection all have found it,
And beneath it stands no slave - 
Men and women died around it,
On the land and on the wave.

Always in the front of battle,
Guarded by the old and young,
Midst the smoke of cannon's rattle,
Is it not worthy of my song?

                E. F. F.

                            *    *    *

        What is Treason

It was just the other day,
   A laddie asked "what's treason."
I answered as best I could,
   And then I gave my reason.

It is the meanest of all crimes,
   To desert the flag is one,
Or to give away the secrets,
   For money by the ton.

To speculate on meat and bread
   Is worse than robbing our dead.
To take advantage, raise the rent,
   Or lower wages a big red cent.

To shirk your duty, to stay at home
   When needed at the front,
To make your humbler neighbor
   Go in and bear the brunt.

The heroes of the war are those
   Who are battling with the hoe;
And those upon the battlefield,
   Who fight from sun to sun.

Down with treason wherever found,
   Dig a hole and make a mound;
Put them in, and oh, my son,
   Commence the work in Washington.

Mothers on their knees in prayer,
   Good men fighting everywhere;
Red Cross women all united,
   Congress is no place for blighters.

Bullets, biscuits, noble brothers,
   Soldiers one and farmers t'other;
No treason in their ranks you'll find,
   But one in heart and one in mind.

They are all united for the flag;
   They stand for Wilson, true,
Notwithstanding old Champ Clark
   And his discordant few.

-- E. F. Fenton

                            *    *    *

THE KAISER
       --------

His body full of putrid sores,
His face is full of grime,
And the water that he drinks
Turns to filthy slime.

Hear his cry: "Have Mercy, Lord - 
Have mercy on my soul!"
Let drowned men and women
Speak from waves that shoreward roll.

Let drowned children hover
Around his bed of pain
And lisp: "Where is my mother?
Or, did you this for gain?"

And mothers with their glassy eyes,
With dead babes in their arms,
Point stiffened fingers at him,
Cry: "Did these do any harm?"

That noble English lady
That you so basely shot
For feeding human beings
On your soul's  a bloody blot.

You may cry, "out, out damn spot,"
But it is there to stay;
Blood of infants, women, men,
Will confront you on your way.

I'm just a poor old soldier,
And I tried to kill my man,
But it was in battle fair,
Not in ambush, sea or land.

Ambition is your keynote,
Ambition is your goal,
Ambition led you to the point,
Ambition, finish up the role.

I may be wrong, if I am may God forgive me, but I believe that in sinking the 
Lusitania by orders of the Kaiser, and the shooting of that English lady as a 
spy, by orders of the same, was more cruel than the crime of Herod.  We live 
in an enlightened age.  I don't believe an American sailor or soldier could 
have been made to obey an order of such rank cruelty.  I am thankful in 
believing this.

                                        E. F. F.

                            *    *    *

IN MEMORIAL

	James A. Smart, who died last week, was an original member of the 
Anson Guard, of Ante-Bellum days.  There is only one now left in the county, 
the writer.  The company volunteered as a whole in April, 1861; and today 
there remains in the county the following: Gen. W. A. Smith, G. B. Dunlap, 
Peter Marton, Ed Gaddy, and E. F. Fenton.  There are several members living 
today who came to the company later in the war.  Neal Bowman, Thos. Morrison, 
Sandy Teal are the only ones that I now recall.  Of Jim Smart I need not 
praise.  Every one who knew him, respected and admired this brave soldier and 
citizen.

                                        E. F. F.


I am feeling very sad today,
And my eyes with tears are dim,
For bunk-mate Jim has passed away;
And the sun to me looks dim.

He missed his step, a slip and slide
And Jim passed over the "Great Divide,"
Bunk-mate Jim will camp today,
In a shady spot in the "Milky Way."

He's pitched his tent - he's there to stay
Until roll-call on Judgment Day - 
And then without the sign of fear,
Jim will answer, ready, "here."
He helped to beautify the earth,
He filled us with his laughter, mirth;

When he found tears, they ceased to flow,
Smiles and sunshine, he'd cause to grow;
Pain and sorrow could not stay
In his presence, they'd fade away.

Look for me, Jim, I'm coming soon
And in your bunk, just save me room,
I'll meet you when the sun is dawning,
And simply say, Jim, "good morning."

                            *    *    *

  To My Bunk-Mate, Jim Smart

I had a dream the other night
   When all the world was still.
I thought I saw an old, old man
   Come tottering down the hill.

His form was bent, his steps were slow
   His eyes were weak and dim,
And as I looked I recognized
   My good old bunk mate, Jim.

His eyes grew bright, he stood up straight,
   Uplifted his old head
And with a happy, happy smile,
   Said simply, "Howdy, Ed."

I clasped the old boy to my heart
   And then we had our fun
And we lived the old days over,
   The days of sixth-one.

We fought our battles once again
   We gave the same old yell.
But our hearts grew sad in memory
   Of the good old boys that fell.

We talked of battles lost and won
   And how old *Bennett led 
The charge that very day
   You stopped that chunk of lead.

And when I found you on the field
   You looked so pale and thin.
I couldn't stop the tears that flowed
   I only cried, "poor Jim."

And then you found me on the field
   And caused the blood to cease
That essential care for a gory wound
   You gave me warmth and peace.

   [underlined portions were added;
    the remaining text is missing]

* Note:  Risden Tyler Bennett was Colonel of the
         14th Regiment, N.C. Volunteers

Data provided by:                    Compiled/edited by:

Ann Steadman Poe                     J. E. (Ned) Covington, Ph.D.
Rockingham, North Carolina           Alexandria, Virginia

His great-granddaughter              His great-grandson

October 16, 2006


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