Mourning images from my collection.
“Koogle said that leaving Myersville that night, he passed a young man about his height, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a slouch hat, like his own.”
Continued from Part II.
During the months before the jury trial of George H. Koogle, merchant George Waters Biddle fully recovered. According to the Baltimore Sun, the gunshot wound to his thigh had nearly proven fatal but the newspaper did not elaborate whether it was from the onset of sepsis or another cause.
Perhaps tellingly, further robberies in Myersville were not reported by the press in the last quarter of that year. This did not mean the little town saw no excitement. On Election Day, 8 November, as President Teddy Roosevelt was reelected, “Some dynamite was exploded [in Myersville] and the shock shattered glass in the Flook, Gaver, Leatherman Bank and in the residence of Mr. George W. Wachtel,” the Hagerstown Daily Mail stated.
A little more than a week later, work was freshly completed on the electric railway between Myersville and Hagerstown. “The railroad runs the full length of the main street of Myersville, the track being laid in the center of the street. The poles and wires are all up and work cars have been running into Myersville from Hagerstown since Tuesday,” reported the Frederick News on 18 November.
This march of progress nearly trampled Myersville resident Martin Wachtel, who made “a narrow escape from being killed by electricity while the wires for the new road were being stretched,” the News noted. A wire fell across the street and Wachtel tried to lead a wagon across it, believing it not live. “When the horses stepped upon the wire, they were violently thrown to the ground. Mr. Wachtel … was also severely shocked. The horses were unhitched from the wagon and assisted to their feet when the one horse accidentally touched the wire a second and third time and was thrown each time. The horses were uninjured, excepting a few burns.”
During the night of 23 November, a large quantity of dynamite was purposefully exploded on a hill at the edge of Myersville, breaking windows and causing panic. “A large glass was shattered in the bay window of Mr. Isiah Moser’s residence, another in the window of the Myersville Savings Bank, and a number elsewhere, including the residence of Statton Smith,” stated the Daily Mail.
The Baltimore Sun reported, “After the explosion, the dynamite chest belonging to the Hagerstown Electric Railroad, near the town, was broken open and 100 pounds of the explosive stolen. Now the citizens of this town are in mortal fear of another explosion.” The Hagerstown Railway offered a $25 reward for identification of the guilty parties, but the culprits were never found.
George Koogle’s trial was held in the circuit court in Frederick in mid-December, after a postponement from its original slot in October. On 30 September, Koogle had been found not guilty of the charge of robbing Peter Langdon’s store. No details were reported, including whether the man who purportedly sold the photo album to Koogle, S. A. E. Johnson, was ever identified.
The trial began with “much difficulty” in selecting a jury, reported the Sun on the 17th. “Twenty-six talesmen were summoned after the regular panel had been exhausted.” This may be reflective of the notoriety of the case, as well as the status of Captain Jacob Koogle.
George Biddle testified as he had in August; nothing in his story changed, and he maintained that the man who shot him was George Koogle, whom he recognized by his clothing, build, height, and walk. Joseph Wolfe again swore that he had walked down Main Street with Koogle that night, leaving him near Bittle’s store, and Mary Bittle testified that she had seen and recognized Koogle from her window.
One new aspect of his testimony was the victim’s identification of a bone-handled knife found beside the store’s front door after the shooting. Bittle told the court that it was identical to one stolen from the establishment in early June. He said he’d previously sold another identical knife to Tilghman Grossnickle (1852-1937), who had it in his possession, but no one else purchased one. Myersville locals Harry C. Dusing (1886-1952), Joseph C. Moser (1881-1933), and Edward Kline took the stand to testify that Koogle had offered to sell them an identical knife on a Sunday before the shooting.
Koogle was first in the witness chair when his defense began and his testimony included significant new elements. He stated that what brought him into Myersville on the night of 3 August was the collection of money owed by an unnamed person. Koogle stated that he headed home at about 10 p.m., and upon “leaving Myersville that night, he passed a young man about his own height, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a slouch hat, like his own. In fact, the person was practically dressed like him and was about his stature, but [Koogle] did not know him,” stated the News.
George Huffer (1863-1952) of Middletown then attempted to bolster this rather convenient assertion, testifying that at about 6 a.m. on 4 August, “he was on his way to to do some work for the county on the road running from Middletown to Broad Run. In the suburbs of Middletown, he saw a man dressed in dark clothes, a slouch hat, and of medium build standing along the road who seemed to have been coming towards Middletown. On seeing Mr. Huffer the man ran across a field toward a straw stack and seemed … to wish to hide himself,” the News reported.
Clara Koogle then testified on her brother’s behalf about the timing of his return to the family home. Next, according to the Hagerstown Herald and Torchlight, the defense tried to recruit sympathy for Capt. Koogle, who told the court that “the accused was his only son at home and his sole reliance for the managing of his farm.”
After closing arguments by the state’s attorney and defense lawyers, the jury in the George Koogle trial withdrew to deliberate. After about seven hours, around 9:30 p.m., the jury “announced to the court that it was unable to agree upon a verdict and was dismissed. The jury stood 8 to 4 for acquittal,” reported the Herald and Torchlight.
Amidst what must have been a gallery of disbelieving faces, as the court ordered a retrial during the next term, after the end-of-year holidays.
After marriage, Clara Koogle Warrenfeltz and her husband became tenants on the Samuel Bower’s farm on Antietam Creek north of Chewsville. Less than a year later on 27 November 1908, Clara gave birth to a son they named Jacob, after her father.
The following Spring, just a few days before Easter, on 8 April, 1909, Clara’s husband Oscar and a farmhand headed into the freshly greening fields. After a morning of hard work, the two walked back to the house for their midday meal. They found four-month-old Jacob sleeping peacefully in his cradle, the table empty, ingredients sitting out in the kitchen, and Clara missing. Another farmhand, Leander Harbaugh, would later tell authorities that he had seen Clara at about 10 a.m. “working around the stove, preparing for dinner,” reported the Sun.
Oscar shortly found his wife’s footprints transversing the 30 yards from the house to Antietam Creek. They ended on the shore. Police and neighbors were quickly summoned, and boats and grappling hooks were gathered to drag the creek. Capt. Koogle also arrived, deep in dread.
The Sun noted that after Clara was missed from the house, “the belief was general that she had committed suicide.” They surely did not conclude this without reason. Was Clara suffering from what is recognized today as post-partum depression? Had she experienced extreme lows and highs or attempted suicide before? Unfortunately, no one remains who can answer these questions.
That afternoon, searchers found Clara. She was in the water near the dam breast by the stone, three-story Old Forge grist mill. The body was hooked and pulled ashore whilst her father and husband watched. According to the Sun, “Both wept hysterically.”
When the body was seen, it was apparent that Clara had not killed herself. “Nearly all of the woman’s clothes were burned from her body and her breast,” the Sun noted. “Her limbs were badly charred and her hair and eyebrows singed….. Justice Elias B. Hartle (1869-1937) being convinced there was no foul play, decided an inquest unnecessary.”
As the horrible day ended, it was concluded that Clara’s clothes had caught fire whilst she was readying dinner; she had run ablaze to Antietam Creek, falling in to extinguish the flames, but Clara’s burns were so severe that she lost consciousness. The Chambersburg, Pennsylvania Public Option, which published a 10 April item about her death titled it, “Burned, then Drowned.”
For reasons that remain obscure, George Koogle was never retried for robbery and attempted murder. The entire matter disappeared in the new year of 1905 and was not addressed in newspapers again. Most likely, the state realized it could never empower a jury not awed by Jacob Koogle. Having been treated with deference since the Civil War ended, the men of Frederick County saw no reason to tarnish his reputation through the conviction of his son.
Clara’s death may have begun a period of rapprochement between the Koogles and Myersville. Jacob and Mary Koogle wanted their daughter buried in the clan’s hometown, at the Myersville Lutheran Church (now St. Paul’s) where they had worshipped and been part of the tight-knit congregation for many happy decades. That Clara’s husband agreed to this is evident from the tombstone that now bears her name, his own, and that of Bessie Catherine Koogle (1887-1972), Clara’s younger sister, whom Oscar married on 9 February, 1911.
Bessie raised her sister’s son, and she and Oscar also had a number of children together. They both died in 1972 after a marriage that lasted more than sixty years. Jacob Warrenfeltz remained in Washington County, marrying Elta Launa Showman (1911-1981) and fathering five children. He is buried at Cedar Lawn Memorial Park in Hagerstown.
When Mary Koogle died on 21 March, 1914, she, too, was buried in the Lutheran churchyard at Myersville. Almost exactly a year later on 16 March, 1915, Capt. Koogle passed away from pneumonia in his house on the Boulevard, Hagerstown. Newspapers all across the region carried the death notice.
On the day of the funeral, Koogle’s body was taken from Hagerstown to Myersville on a special electric railway car and then carried to the church by a set of pallbearers who were all friends from Hagerstown. However, there was a second set of “honorary pallbearers”: Dr. Alvey J. Smith (1865-1929), John C. Leatherman (1852-1952), John P. Flook (1859-1928), W. Edward Bittle (1868-1963), William Harshman (1871-1913), and Joshua Summers (1845-1922)—all old friends from the Myersville area.
George Koogle stayed clear of his hometown, remaining in Hagerstown and marrying Norma D. Cashman (1884-1904) in 1909. The couple first lived with his wife’s family then set up home at 112 Rose Hill Avenue. George worked as a carpenter to support a family that included two sons and three daughters. Years later, the Daily Mail noted, “To date, he has built 102 corner cupboards and dozens of gateleg tables, coffee and end tables, blank and cedar chests, and desks. When he undertakes the building of an antique ‘reproduction,’ his workmanship plus his technical subterfuge can confuse even the most sharp-eyed experts.” (One wonders how many fake antiques by Koogle are out there today.)
In August 1933, Koogle was accused of possessing a brazing machine stolen from the Statton Furniture plant the previous April. That the pilfered brazer was in his workshop was not in question, however, “Magistrate Sweeney said that there was insufficient evidence to connect him directly with the theft of the machine or of having received stolen property, so he dismissed him with the understanding that the machine was to be returned to the plant.”
After this second lightning strike of leniency, Koogle avoided the law. This did not mean, however, that he was absent from local newspapers. In the 1950s, articles were published about him on multiple occasions—one with an unsettling topic. The Daily Mail of 2 September, 1950, reported, “George H. Koogle … who has killed more snakes, both poisonous and nonpoisonous, perhaps than any living person hereabout, proved to a few of his doubting friends last Sunday that the female snakes carry their young in their throat and mouth. Mr. Koogle, who estimates he has killed in his time several thousand snakes from Pen Mar to the Potomac River, was strolling through an alley … when he espied a snake crawling toward some bushes. Before the reptile could get away he stomped it to death. As he put his heel down upon the snake, three young snakes crawled from the mouth of the old snake, a garter. Mr. Koogle said that in his younger days he made a business of catching deadly rattlesnakes and sold their skins for the making of belts…. He put the young garter snakes out of their misery very quickly after he disposed of the mother.”
In August 1958, the Daily Mail ran a picture of a stern-faced Koogle gripping a large broad axe. The caption read, “George Koogle shows how people grasped [an] axe back in the old days.” The chopper from his collection was going on display at the Washington County Historical Society Museum, but the overall impression disturbs.
George Koogle died in his home just a few months later, in December. He was buried with his wife in Hagerstown’s Rose Hill Cemetery. By the time of George’s passing, there were few who recalled his father’s gallantry. The hero who had shaped George Koogle’s life and whose reputation had shielded him rested quietly in Myersville’s earth. Near Capt. Koogle was Clara, the sister who provided his alibi and met a gruesome end. His Aunt Susan and Civil War veteran uncle Daniel Mowen were also there, as was George Waters Bittle, whose life Koogle had almost certainly nearly taken on that humid summer night in 1904.
On 20 November, 1953, the Daily Mail printed an article titled “Another Medal of Honor Turns Up in County.” It read, in part, “George H. Koogle … had his [father’s] Civil War uniform until a few years ago when the moths finished it off. At the time he put it away, Mr. Koogle said it carried five bullet holes.” Ω
When it was Koogle’s chance to defend himself, he told the judge and state’s attorney that he had not committed the shooting nor any of the burglaries.
Continued from Part One.
Amazingly—almost miraculously—on 8 August, just four days after the shooting, George Waters Bittle was able to give testimony to Justice of the Peace Christian H. Eckstein whilst propped up in a chair in the bedroom of his Main Street home. Also present during the testimony was State’s Attorney for Frederick County Arthur D. Willard (1872-1959), the counsels for the defense, the accused, Captain Jacob Koogle, Dr. Ralph Browning, Rev. Otto E. Bregenzer (abt. 1877-1920) of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, and Mrs. Bittle, the former Mary Elizabeth Routzahn (1865-1936.)
Bittle told Willard and Eckstein that on the night of the attempted burglary, “He had seen the burglar around his place early in the evening [and] though he recognized his walk,” the Frederick News noted. “The party wore a dark slouch hat, dark coat, and trousers. He did not see the face of the man at the door sufficiently well to say it was George Koogle, but he could say from what he had seen of Koogle earlier in the evening and what he could say of the man at the door he thought it was George Koogle, although he was sorry to say so.” The dolorous look Bittle may have given Captain Koogle as he spoke can well be imagined.
Bittle, like his fellow citizens, probably saw Koogle as somewhat of a superhero. For example, the merchant would surely have heard this wartime anecdote from Myersville veteran Daniel Mowen, Koogle’s brother-in-law, who included it in a series of articles he wrote for the newspaper, The Globe: “At the assault of Petersburg, on the 17th of June, 1864, and while the Seventh [Maryland Regiment] was in line, Jacob Koogle, first sergeant of company, saw a shell bounding toward them. He called to the men to ‘look out!’ Watching its course, he attempted to step out of its way when it lodged against his breast. Its force being about spent, he threw it off with his arm without injury to himself and, as it didn’t explode, it injured no one else.” This was before the affair of stealing of the Confederate colors and returning with the secessionist banner and a uniform full of bullet holes. Those twin events could make anyone wonder whether Koogle was divinely blessed.
This is a copy of an earlier photo–certainly either an ambrotype or daguerreotype. Photographers Broadbent and Taylor, or whoever owed this image, drew strengthening lines around the woman’s shoulders and head, as well as around her eyes and possibly lips. On the actual cabinet card, these lines are not really noticeable, but when blown up, they become quite evident.
The sitter wears fashions that date the photograph to the 1850s. She wears a mourning brooch at her throat, its hair compartment and black enamel clearly visible. I have a similar brooch in my collection. The otherwise lovely piece below suffers from moisture damage. At some point in the past, water or humidity seeped into the brooch and now the hair is a shade of green, dyed by the metals that surround it. Ω
“About this time, we were visited by heavy thunderstorms. Having shelter, we were obliged to hunt high places upon the ground to spread our blanket, and with knapsack for a pillow, lay down wet and shivering with our gum blanket over us for the rain to beat upon.”
Daniel H. Mowen was born 28 November, 1839. Both his parents were dead by the time he was 12. By August 1862, Mowen had relocated from his native Pennsylvania to Frederick County, Maryland, where he enlisted in C. F. Anderson’s Company I of the 7th Maryland Regiment for a three-year term. During the course of his service, he was wounded at the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House, heard the last speech of Abraham Lincoln at the White House, did guard duty at the Old Capital Prison on the night of the president’s assassination, and was present during the trial of the conspirators.
This account was written for The Globe newspaper late in Mowen’s life but does not appear to have been published elsewhere. It is preserved in the archives of the Middletown Valley Historical Society. The reenactment group, the 7th Maryland Reg’t Volunteer Infantry, published a transcribed PDF version of this manuscript on their site. I feel it is valuable to digitally publish this account again here for increased access by researchers and to further document the rich history and experiences of the people of Myersville and Wolfsville for that area’s historical society. This version has been lightly edited for spelling and punctuation to increase readability.
1863. Like all organizations, we had men that were not true to the colors. On the night of the 5th of February, the sentinel on duty at the stables deserted, appropriating Major Dallam’s horse to help him on his way. On February 24th a mule took offense at me passing somewhere within fifty feet of his rear, kicked me on the leg, but missed his mark so far as to not break any bones. Considering the source from which it came, all that we could do was to pass on the best we could. We were not in a very moveable condition for several days.
On the 28th of February, we had the pleasure of witnessing the presentation of a flag from California to the brave boys of the First Maryland Regiment, who had already gained considerable distinction.
The 4th of April was cloudy and cold. We broke camp on Maryland Heights and moved our camp to Bolivar Heights, on the Virginia side of the Potomac. We pitched our tents upon the wet ground. It began to snow in the evening and the next morning there was wet snow of about eight inches. We had nothing but a narrow board to lie upon the wet ground for a [bed] with wet ground below, wet snow above. I lay down cold and shivered to sleep. But that sleep was of short duration. I awoke with the most severe pains through my shoulder and breast that I thought a mortal could experience. But fortunately, by calling upon the surgeon, I got relief.
Owing to raids by Imboden and Jones, on April 27th we left Harpers Ferry, on the B&O Railroad, reaching Cumberland in the evening and Oakland the next morning. We left Oakland on the morning of the 29th on foot through rain and mud for Cranberry Summit. Here the auctioneer of Company I, Joseph Boward, put up at public auction one of the Sixth Virginia home guards. He was reported to have aided the enemy at plunder, and killed a citizen’s cow, was arrested and afterward turned over to the civil authorities.
After pleading for a bid, he was knocked off to Jeff Davis for three cents. Thinking it was too good of a bargain to let his uniform go with the man, his clothes were put up, soon reaching twenty-five dollars. They were knocked off to Uncle Sam. It was rather humiliating, but he had to stand it.
The night was hot and sultry, but with a luminous Moon. George Bittle closed up shop but did not go to bed. As he had done on recent occasions, Bittle sat on his front porch, armed with a breech-loading gun, to watch over his store.
On 12 July, 1946, the Hagerstown (Maryland) Daily Mail printed the obituary of local notable George Waters Bittle, who died on 10 July in Frederick City Hospital, aged 79. Bittle was a long-standing board member of the Myersville Savings Bank and had operated a general merchandise store on Main Street for more than half a century. In hindsight, the newly deceased Bittle had likely enjoyed an extra 42 years of life. Against the odds, Bittle survived three bullets fired into him during an attempted burglary of his business in August 1904.
Bittle’s near murder was the byproduct of a series of break-ins in Myersville. Frankly, the town had a crime problem. The young man most likely responsible for these thieveries was the child of another notable citizen—a Civil War hero who’d won the Congressional Medal of Honor for exceptional battlefield bravery—Captain Joseph Koogle.
She was christened Anna Martha Bell, but she was always known as “Mattie.” The baby girl was born 9 July, 1857, in Erie, Miami County, Indiana to a father with the unusual name Pleasant Lilly Bell (1809-1882). According to his 20 July, 1879, obituary, “Mr. Bell was born in [Vevay,] Switzerland County [Indiana] in 1814, two years before the admission of Indiana to the sisterhood of states. He came to this part of the state [Miami County] when yet a young man and worked on the Wabash & Erie Canal which the state was then constructing. He was a resident of Miami for more than 40 years. His reputation was spotless and he was in high esteem by all who knew him.”
Pleasant was the son of Armiger Lilly Bell (1771-1816) and his wife Sarah Blackford (1779-1848). Armiger Bell was born in Fluvanna, Virginia, 10 January, 1771. He was the third youngest of a dozen children. The Bell family was large, well off, and owned land and slaves. Armiger later sailed down the Ohio River to Kentucky, meeting his future wife Sarah, and married her on 31 March, 1795. The couple settled near Vevey and took up farming in what was then a heavily forested area.
After Armiger’s death on 5 November, 1816, his eldest son James took over the farm, until his mother remarried in 1821 and his new stepfather took over from her son. Her second husband, John White, appears to have been abusive and volatile. Ultimately, he mysteriously vanished while taking a herd of hogs to market. Sarah eventually came to live with her son Pleasant and his family. She died in 1848 and is buried in the Tillett Cemetery.