From the era of Reconstruction until the late 1890s, one distinguished black gentleman dressed in tails greeted legislators by name daily as they entered the Statehouse.

The wizened, white-haired African-American was a man known to all of our lawmakers and judges and was honored in the New York Times in August, 1897.

Maybe it’s an affectation of the Old South, but from the time of slavery through desegregation, there’s been an elderly, distinguished gentleman of African descent welcoming lawmakers and their guests to our State Capitol. However, judging from the write-up that Rose received in the Times, it’s unlikely that there’ll ever be another Carolina ambassador of goodwill like him again.

Thanks to old newspaper clippings we can today retell the amazing story of a slave boy who rose to prominence in 19th century South Carolina. Rose was born on Christmas Day in 1813 to a Columbia family with the surname of Barrett. For some reason Rose was conveyed to the prominent Butler family. According to the diaries of travelers, our capital city was among the fairest in the land. Grand vistas from the Congaree and Broad Rivers presented Columbia as “that shining city upon a hill.”

America was at war in 1813 and the tramp of soldiers and horses no doubt could be heard as the Carolina militia moved toward the coast. War was to play a large role in Rose’s life for he’d be a veteran of three wars himself and he’d witness preparations for a fourth before he died.

As an 11-year-old slave boy whose duties included tending the wood box and sweeping the yard, Rose saw one of Columbia’s grandest spectacles - the visit of the Marquis de Lafayette in 1824.

That grand old “Hero of Two Revolutions” strode up Pendleton Street from Bishop Ellison Capers’ home toward the Capitol treading upon a carpet of flowers strewn by dozens of pretty young girls. No grander sight could have greeted Caesar returning to Rome from conquering Gaul. At that young age  Rose became attracted to the ways of powerful men and he willed himself to be in their good graces. Ironically, today we have forgotten most of those “great men,” but we remember Rose.

The 1897 New York Times article describes Rose as having shoulder-length, snow white hair adorning his brown countenance. He was immaculately groomed and always in a formal suit or uniform.

In the summer of 1897, Governor William Ellerbe, a democrat from Marion, ordered a full-dress inspection of the South Carolina Militia prior to their boarding a train for Charleston. From Charleston the state guards expected deployment to Cuba in support of the Spanish-American War. Rose was a devotee to Ellerbe and the officers of the guards, so they had a carriage brought around for this elderly black man to accompany them in review of the troops! The newspaper account states that there is no doubt that Rose was the most popular black man in the state at that time.

No one today knows if Rose could read or write, but if he had left us a diary of his life, what an engrossing read it would be today. While serving as valet, groom, and “man Friday” to his owner, Pierce Butler, Rose first gained notice and the respect of the State’s social and political elite.

Butler was one of our state’s antebellum brave hearts who actually resigned his elected post as governor in order to command the famed Palmetto Regiment in the Mexican War. Butler and his aide Rose had seen bold service and hot engagements with the SC Militia in the Second Seminole War (1835-1842). The enemy consisted of Seminoles and allied renegades and runaway slaves. Popularity as a war hero catapulted Butler into the governor’s office and Rose as head man in the governor’s retinue of servants.

When Butler led the Palmetto Regiment over the walls of Cherubusco, a Franciscan monastery and convent near Mexico City, our former governor was shot from his horse during the height of the battle. It fell to Rose to bring back the body of the state’s conquering hero. Like Nelson at Trafalgar, Butler at Cherubusco became a call sign for Carolina chivalry in antebellum times. And Rose had been at the brave man’s side.

Regrettably, the dissolution of Butler’s estate meant that Rose was to be auctioned off by shrewd slave traders who were supplying slaves to the Red River plantations in Texas. That was a fate worse than death for him, so he pleaded with a friend of his old master, a Mr. Goode, to purchase him. Thus, Rose was preserved for his next episode of Carolina adventures. Colonel Maxcy Gregg requested of Goode that Rose accompany him into the Confederacy.

Gregg, a Columbia lawyer, South Carolina College graduate, and Colonel of the 1st Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers in 1861, probably knew Rose from their Mexican War days. Rose eagerly left for Virginia in service with Colonel - soon to be CSA General - Maxcy Gregg.

Together, Gregg and Rose knew the Battles of Gaines Mill, Second Manassas, and Sharpsburg - the Confederacy’s name for Antietam.

They tented together on a hundred fields, and the black servant and the white general knew each other better than most men who are brothers.

Again, the grim business of bringing the body home of a brave soldier fell to Rose when General Gregg was fatally wounded at Fredericksburg.

The New York Times article (1897) on Rose says that General Gregg presented him with his gold pocket watch right before he died and that Rose turned down large offers of money for it from the General’s sisters living in Europe, saying that he planned to wear that watch as long as he lived.

General Wade Hampton became governor of the State in the tumultuous campaign of 1876, and Hampton created a special statehouse position of Head Porter for Rose. When “Pitchfork” Ben Tillman became governor in 1890 he fired all of the Capitol staff — except Rose! Why have we lost track of where this legendary Carolinian was buried?

(Dr. Thomas B. Horton is a history teacher at Porter-Gaud School. He lives in the Old Village of Mount Pleasant. You can visit his Web site at www.historyslostmoments.com)