One-time pastor makes way to do interview of a lifetime

The Rev. George W. Pep­per, a for­mer pas­tor of the Methodist-Episcopal Church in Belle­vue in the 1870s to early 1880s, had a dis­tin­guished career before com­ing to Belle­vue and even more dis­tin­guished career after he left Bellevue.

He was born near Gil­ford, County Downs, Ire­land. His father was an Epis­co­palian and his mother a Pres­by­ter­ian. His father died when he was quite young and his mother devoted her­self to his edu­ca­tion. He was placed in a sem­i­nary in Moore, County Darby, where he made rapid progress.

It was the wish of his mother that Pep­per become an ora­tor and to that end she took pains to have him lis­ten to addresses by many of the emi­nent speak­ers of the time. Pep­per became inter­ested in the tem­per­ance cause and his first pub­lic speak­ing was in the 1850s when he made addresses against the drink evil.

At the age of 18 he was united in mar­riage to Christina Lind­suy, daugh­ter of a promi­nent farmer, who to use his own words, “for 40 years cheered and com­forted me in sick­ness and dis­ap­point­ment.” A large fam­ily was born to them.

He moved to Amer­ica in 1854. Shortly after land­ing he was rec­om­mended to Kenyon Col­lege at Gam­bier, Ohio. After attend­ing Kenyon for one year, he made appli­ca­tion to the Methodist-Episcopal Church of the North Ohio Con­fer­ence. He became a cir­cuit rider and served a num­ber of churches.

In 1861, while pas­tor of a church at Keene, Coshoc­tion County, he preached war ser­mons to the extent that a propo­si­tion was made to form a com­pany. Names were writ­ten in the hymn book and Com­pany H of the 80th Ohio Vol­un­teer Infantry was formed. The Rev. Pep­per was made cap­tain despite his protest. The reg­i­ment began at Corinth and ended at the con­clu­sion of Sherman’s march to the sea.

When the army of Gen­eral Sher­man was mak­ing its famous home­ward march to Wash­ing­ton, D.C., it rested for a few days in Rich­mond, Va. Because of rank and because of being a chap­lain, Capt. Pep­per had the oppor­tu­nity to inter­view the high­est rank­ing Rebel offi­cer of the Civil War, Gen­eral Robert E. Lee.

What fol­lows is the tran­script between the Union Chap­lain and the high­est rank­ing Con­fed­er­ate officer:

When the army of Gen­eral Sher­man, with which I was con­nected, was mak­ing its famous home­ward march to Wash­ing­ton, it rested for a few days in Rich­mond. Accom­pa­nied by Gen­eral Geary, after­wards gov­er­nor of Penn­syl­va­nia, and pro­vided with a let­ter of intro­duc­tion from Gen­eral Hazen, who knew Gen­eral Lee at West Point, I made my mind to call and inter­view the Rebel com­man­der. Ring­ing the bell with con­sid­er­able anx­i­ety, I awaited the result of my rash attempt to get a glimpse of the most gal­lant and most illus­tri­ous man of the South. Quickly there appeared at the door a good-looking mulatto, who awaited my demand.

“Can I see Gen­eral Lee?” was the sim­ple ques­tion I put on this occa­sion. “This is not the reg­u­lar day when he receives com­pany, and he has not yet enter­tained any vis­i­tors, but —” and he sur­veyed me with a hes­i­tat­ing air, not know­ing what to say next. I observed, “Per­haps he would see a chap­lain of Sherman’s army in his pri­vate par­lor for a few moments.” “Your name, sir?” he asked. “Chap­lain Pep­per, of the 15th Corps of the Army of the Ten­nessee.” Giv­ing him Gen­eral Hazen’s let­ter, he quickly dis­ap­peared and in a few moments returned, say­ing it was all right, and for me to walk into the par­lor. I took my seat upon a very plain sofa. The house was sim­plic­ity itself. There were no rich car­pets, soft cush­ions, ele­gant fur­ni­ture. There was not a wall dec­o­ra­tion, noth­ing to attract atten­tion, — a few chairs, a table cov­ered with pic­tures of bat­tle­fields; but absolutely noth­ing that beto­kened that this was the home of the might­i­est man in the South.

(To be continued)

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Belle­vue His­to­rian Bill Oddo writes a weekly col­umn for The Belle­vue Gazette.

Posted by Becky Brooks on Nov 18 2012. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS Feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.