One of my greatest joys and blessings has been all the new friends I’ve made through “Marching Through Culpeper.” And my readers turn up all over the country. I recently went to Albuquerque to visit my daughter. We had the pleasure of having lunch with Ludwell “Bud” Lake, IV, a Culpeper native who organized Culpeper’s first SCV Camp.

You admirer’s of the legendary John Mosby will appreciate Bud’s family history. One of the most exciting episodes of the war took place in the Fauquier home of his great-great-grandfather, Ludwell Lake. On the evening of Dec. 21^st, 1864, Mosby, accompanied by Thomas Love, stopped to have dinner with Mr. Lake, whose son, Ludwell, Jr., fought with Mosby. Leaving their horses tied at the front gate, they entered and were soon seated around a table enjoying a warm dinner with Mr. Lake and his daughter, Mrs. Skinner. 

Hearing the tramp of horses around the house, Mosby opened the door leading to the back yard and saw a number of cavalrymen. He hastily closed the door and turned towards the other door, which then opened and a party of Federals entered. Mosby’s hat, overcoat and cape were lying in a corner. He put up his hands to his coat collar to hide the stars, the emblem of his rank, as he knew his chances of escape would be better if he could conceal his identity. 

Just then shots were fired from the back yard, and a ball passed through the window and struck him in the stomach. “I am shot!” exclaimed Mosby. As the firing continued, the Federals hurried out of the room to escape being shot by their own men. Mosby was bleeding profusely, but stepped into an adjoining bedroom, pulled off his coat and hid it under a bureau, smeared blood all over himself, and fell on the floor as if dead. 

The Yankees returned in a few moments and struck a light. Mrs. Skinner told them Mosby was a stranger to her. Mosby gasped that his name was Lt. Johnson of the 6^th Virginia. They pulled up his blood-saturated shirt and a doctor pronounced the wound mortal. They stripped Mosby of his boots and left. 

When Mosby was satisfied that they had left, he got up and walked into the room to the astonishment of Mr. Lake and Mrs. Skinner, who supposed him dead. Mosby at the time thought his intestines were cut and the wound mortal. When Mr. Lake regained composure, he called a couple of Negro boys to get an ox cart and remove Mosby to safety. The “Gray Ghost” ultimately recovered in his father’s home near Lynchburg and returned to be a thorn in the side of the enemy. 

The window with the bullet hole survives and is occasionally displayed by another branch of the Lake family. Bud has memories of the stories his father told about sticking his fingers in the nine bullet holes which marred the body of his grandfather, Ludwell, Jr., who never acknowledged how many Yankees he killed. Bud spent many hours of his childhood searching the fields of the family farm for bullets and arrowheads. His fascination with arrowheads led him to New Mexico 30 years ago. Today he has the largest private collection of Crow Indian materials and original photographs in the US.  

Prayer Power 

Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for giving me a safe trip to New Mexico to enjoy a completely different yet majestic portion of Your creation, and for providing the opportunity for me to learn more history through Bud Lake.  New Mexico was re-enacting its one an only battle at Glorietta Pass. We are all stewards of our land and our history. Never let us forget our sacred responsibility.

 In the mighty name of Jesus– Hallelujah! He is risen! Amen.