Family Names
The American Civil War touched the entire country in one way or another.
The detritus of this bloody conflict remains in the American Deep South even today.
Seen the news lately? Not since 1865 have Americans held each other in such unfettered contempt. Vigorous disagreement morphs into abject hatred. Politicians weaponize ideas and neighborhoods burn. Ours is a most dangerous time. However, it is not without precedent.
My grandmother once related a particularly moving story. Mom’s people hail from Alabama and represent a long line of Godly altruistic folk. Incidentally, our family also makes exceptionally pretty girls.
Vaughn is a common name amongst my clan. Mom had a great uncle named Vaughn. However, that’s a fairly atypical moniker hereabouts. Its wartime origins are tragically fascinating.
Amidst the madness that was the American Civil War, a Union cavalry unit was riding hard through rural Alabama, sowing chaos. Along the way, one young Federal cavalry officer caught a ball. His wound was serious though not life-threatening. However, mounted mobile warfare in the 1860s was legendarily hard. This young man’s injury meant he could not keep pace with his comrades.
Warfare then was a very different beastie from what it is today. Combat medicine was in its infancy and organic support for wounded soldiers was minimal at best. In the case of rampaging cavalry formations, such stuff was nonexistent. In desperation, this officer’s commander beat on the door of a random homestead and demanded the family therein feed his men. He then dropped the wounded soldier off and ordered those inside to care for him — on pain of death. The rest of the unit then galloped off to complete their mission. The Yankee soldier’s first name has been lost to time. However, he was a Major, and his surname was Vaughn.
A pair of Union cavalry boots left on the front porch sent a chilling message.
Christian Charity
This young man was an enemy combatant and their world was at war. However, his injury rendered him helpless. In the face of such the family provided what support they could, dressing his wound and availing him of food, drink and a warm place to sleep.
The war had gone on for several long years already and all the young men of military age were off on far-flung battlefields prosecuting it. What remained in this tight-knit agrarian community were men past their prime and the women. Word got out in short order there was a wounded Yankee officer recuperating at the homestead.
Amongst this family, chosen at random by a passing Union cavalry commander, was a certain fetching young lass. Though no photographs survive, she was said to be quite a looker. As history would attest, she had a soft heart to match when faced with the prospect of this inadvertent helpless houseguest she was tasked with most of the nursing.
Aside from his wound Major Vaughn was strapping and healthy. With a little attention and good Southern food, he healed both rapidly and well. A ringside seat to all-out war is a terrifying thing. Through the retrospective lens of history, we know how it all turned out. At this time and in this place, however, every day offered new uncertainty.
There was no real plan. Major Vaughn’s unit was long gone. He didn’t even have a horse. They just lived moment to moment and the injured man grew incrementally stronger each day. As is the nature of things, as time went by, these two young people, cursed to have been born in the absolute wrong places at the absolute wrong time, developed a mutual fondness. In short order, that fondness evolved into something else. In such a small rural community, such developments could not go unnoticed. That the flower of Southern womanhood might be beguiled by one of the cursed Federals was more than the local men could bear.
Something Truly Horrible
Late one night, the men of the community came together and approached the family farm under cover of darkness. Social mores were markedly more civilized then than is the case today, so Major Vaughn slept in an outbuilding. The local vigilantes surprised the hapless young man before he could make a sound.
They trussed the recuperating soldier up and frog marched him out into the woods. The following morning the young lady discovered the Major’s distinctive high cavalry boots deposited on the front doorstep and immediately appreciated their significance. The woman was heartbroken on a scale few normal folk can comprehend.
Denouement
Eventually, this war, like all others, finally ground to its bloody terminus. Those young men of the community who survived made their way back home and one of them eventually successfully wooed this fair lass and married her. When she first gave birth, it was to a son. She insisted he be called Vaughn. In addition to being pretty, our women can be comparably headstrong. And that is how my expansive Southern family came to be so liberally peppered with men named Vaughn.
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