Journal – Page 10 – Stillness of Heart

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Burn our cities

Stone understood what was happening … something terrible was coming, and she would stand up to meet it.

From 2012 to 2015, Stillness of Heart will share interesting excerpts from the extraordinary diary of Kate Stone, who chronicled her Louisiana family’s turbulent experiences throughout the Civil War era.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

The spring of 1862 brought to Stone the first tangible costs of war. The two-month silence in her diary ended sadly in May as she mourned the “perfect love of a lieutenant” she had swooned over. He died not after a glorious charge, not after a gallant pursuit of the Yankees, but merely of sickness, as so many Civil War soldiers did throughout the war. Reflections on her “nonsense” musings from March 1862 made her feel guilty and petty.

The spring attacks and counterattacks between Union and Confederate forces in the Western Theater — coupled with the fear over failing levees threatening to further flood the area — resounded with tectonic force throughout Stone’s diary, and she sensed that Southern defeats, including the catastrophic fall of New Orleans, exposed her beloved Louisiana to further Union atrocities. Stone, her writing always at its most beautiful when anguished, powerfully evoked her beloved Louisiana, “with her fertile fields of cane and cotton, her many bayous and dark old forests, [which] lies powerless at the feet of the enemy.”

The Civil War was no longer a far-off cyclone of glorious drama, draining her society of young men and precious resources. Its violent power now shook Brokenburn’s foundations. Day by day, the trembles grew stronger. Stone understood what was happening … something terrible was coming, and she would stand up to meet it.

May 9

After two months of silence I will resume my homely chronicles. Reading over the nonsense of the last page, how sad it seems now, for the Lt. Davis mentioned with such jesting is dead far away from his mother “an only son and she a widow.” He escaped at the siege of Donelson only to come home with Capt. Buckner to fall a prey to a long, lingering illness and die at last among strangers.

Two days after my last date [March 9], Mamma, Brother Coley, Brother Walter, and I went down by land to Vicksburg. Brother Coley joined his company as a private with Capt. C. B. Buckner as captain. In a few days they left for Jackson, Miss., where they still are, and Mamma and Brother Walter returned home. I remained with Aunt Laura until last week when Brother Walter came down in the carriage for me, and, after moving adventures by field and flood, we reached home safely.

How many stirring events are crowded into the last sixty days: Our victory in Hampton Roads; the two-day battle and victory at Shiloh; the fall of several of our small towns on the coast; the long bombardment, heroic defense, and final surrender of Island No. 10; the attack on and successful defense of Fort Pillow; and last and most important of all the long and terrible bombardment of Fort Jackson with the passing of the gunboats under heaviest fire and then the investure and fall of the greatest City of the South, New Orleans. And not a blow struck in its defense. Such was not its fate in the days of Jackson.

As a natural consequence of her surrender, the forts also gave up, and fair Louisiana with her fertile fields of cane and cotton, her many bayous and dark old forests, lies powerless at the feet of the enemy. Though the Yankees have gained the land, the people are determined they shall not have its wealth, and from every plantation rises the smoke of burning cotton. The order from Beauregard advising the destruction of the cotton met with a ready response from the people, most of them agreeing that it is the only thing to do. As far as we can see are the ascending wreaths of smoke, and we hear that all the cotton of the Mississippi Valley from Memphis to New Orleans is going up in smoke. We have found it is hard to bum bales of cotton. They will smoulder for days. So the huge bales are cut open before they are lighted and the old cottons burns slowly. It has to be stirred and turned over but the light cotton from the lint room goes like a flash. …

Though agreeing on the necessity of destroying the cotton, all regret it. And it has thrown a gloom over the country that nothing but news of a great victory could lighten. We are watching and praying for that. The planters look upon the burning of the cotton as almost ruin to their fortunes, but all realize its stern necessity, and we have not heard of one trying to evade it.

The Yankee gunboats are expected to appear before Vicksburg today. … It seems hopeless to make a stand at Vicksburg. We only hope they may burn the city if they meet with any resistance. How much better to burn our cities than let them fall into the enemy’s hands.

To resume the earlier record: Two weeks after Dr. Buckner’s company left Vicksburg, Aunt Laura, Beverly, and I went to Jackson to pay them a visit and spent a week at the Bowman House, a comfortable hotel for these times. I enjoyed the stay greatly. Saw so many soldiers and other nice people. And it was such a time of excitement, just after the battle of Shiloh, and we met so many men and officers who were in the fight: Maj. McCardle, whom we heard acted gallantly, Col. Ferguson, aide to Beauregard and lieutenant colonel of Stark’s regiment (the one Dr. Buckner’s company is in) , also mentioned with great praise. He is almost my beau ideal in looks and manner, a West Pointer. I came near losing my heart to him. Just hadn’t time. He was ordered off so soon.

The cars were crowded for days with wounded soldiers going home and relatives going on to see their wounded friends. … The troops at Yorktown have undergone great hardships, particularly the Leesburg Brigade, The flower of both armies with the best generals are stationed within a few miles of each other and the great battle of the war is soon to be fought. And our hearts are heavy with anxiety for our two soldiers who will be in it. …

The conscription has caused a great commotion and great consternation among the shirking stay-at-homes. Around here, many are deluding themselves with the belief that the call will not be enforced in Louisiana now that New Orleans has fallen and Vicksburg is threatened. We are to make a stand there. A weak one, I fear.

We earnestly hope these coward souls will be made to go. They are not joining volunteer companies as most of the conscripts are. They will not even raise a guerrilla troop for home defense. Not a single man has joined for the last two months. I forgot George Hardison, who is under age, and several men from the Bend.

May 10

The smoke of the burning cotton is still rising as far as we can see. For the last five days the air has been heavy with the smoke and odor of burned cloth. There is still a day’s work here before the last bale is ashes. Mamma has reserved about eight bales for spinning and making cloth for the hands.

I must tell an adventure returning ten days ago from Vicksburg.

Brother Walter came for me, with Webster driving, when I had about given up hope of seeing Brokenburn again for many months as the Yankees were hourly expected in Vicksburg. Numbers of people were leaving the city and Aunt Laura was preparing to go on the next train to Jackson to be with Dr. Buckner. I would have been forced to go with her. I could not remain in Vicksburg or with the Nailors in the country, perhaps for months, and so I was relieved when Brother Walter walked in. The next morning we crossed the ferry and were just driving up the road when we were stopped by the news that the Vicksburg levee had broken. Already the river road was impassable and in the course of two hours the water would be over DeSoto. We were horrified but told Webster to turn around and rush as fast as he could to the depot at Mr. Burney’s. Fortunately, we reached there just in time to catch the train and the last one it proved to be for many a day. There was a great crowd of parish people and people going on to Monroe and Texas. Such excitement!

First it was said that the train would be cut off by the water, and then that we would be fired on or captured by a Yankee gunboat. They were momentarily expected and there were many false alarms of their being in sight. We shipped everything on a flat car mules, carriage, Webster and about two or three the train pulled out. We reached Tallulah station rather late. Met several friends on the train who begged us to get off and spend the night the Dancys, Colemans, etc. But I thought in these troublous times home was the best place. So we drove on as far as Mrs. Gustine’s above the Bend, and as it was then quite dark we stayed with them all night, Brother Walter going on home to relieve Mamma’s anxiety. …

It was the last trip the cars can make until the river falls. We came through water so deep that it nearly came in the coaches. They were crowded. In the car with us was a guerrilla captain going to Texas to raise a company. He had just escaped from New Orleans with several men of his command. He said they burned several thousand bales of cotton and other supplies. He was so excited and eager and talked so well of everything he had seen or heard in New Orleans. He is from New Orleans, and his heart and soul are with the Cause.

Mamma was charmed to get us home again when we arrived next day. The day before Mr. Catlin had ridden by to tell her that we were cut off by the break in the levee and that the Yankees were in Vicksburg. She was wretched not knowing what we would do. …

Kate Nailor spent several days with us at Aunt Laura’s. She is looking dreadful but is as lovely as ever. She is soon to be married to Wilkins Roach and much I fear her heart is not in it. He is very wealthy and her family are urging it on, but her heart is in Virginia with My Brother. But they have had a quarrel and now it can never be set right, because in a fit of jealousy and pique she is throwing herself away on a man she barely likes. Poor Kate! And poor absent lover! They have been sweethearts for years.

May 11

The news of the day is a rumored skirmish and evacuation of Yorktown, an advance of Morgan and Forrest with their cavalry troops on Nashville and Paducah to destroy government stores, and the falling back of the Yankee gunboats to New Orleans instead of attacking Vicksburg. That will give time to finish the fortifications at Vicksburg, which are going up rapidly.

We have seen Butler’s Proclamation on taking possession of New Orleans and as he has the cool impudence to say “of the State of Louisiana.” It is a most tyrannical and insulting document and shows what mercy we may expect if subjugated. It made my blood boil to read it, and I could cry when I think of New Orleans completely in his power. Let us hope this will rouse the spirit of the people who still linger at home and send them to the battlefield. How can anyone in the South ever fall so low as to take such an oath of allegiance?

May 17

Norfolk has been abandoned and in consequence the Merrimac had to be burned to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy.

May 19

Natchez has surrendered and the gunboats are now above Rodney. We listen hourly for the cannonading to begin at Vicksburg. Surely the gallant Mississippians will not give up their chief city without a struggle. … Better one desperate battle and the city in flames than tame submission. … We heard the barking of cannon today and thought at first the fight was on at Vicksburg, but the firing was so slow we think now they were only getting the range of the guns.

May 20

The flower garden is one mass of blooms now, and the fragrance on the front gallery is delicious. Uncle Hoccles is very proud of his promising vegetables. But we hear there is great danger of the levee giving away just in front of us, and in that case farewell to gardens, orchards, crops, and everything. The levee for two miles is in a wretched state, but the planters have put all the available men on it and are working hard. They may save the day.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: A perfect love of a lieutenant

Stone’s diary recorded a fascinating variety of situations that governed which men went off to war and which ones stayed home.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

A fresh March 1862 fever for war spread throughout the community surrounding Brokenburn, and Stone’s diary recorded a fascinating variety of situations that governed which men went off to war and which ones stayed home.

March 1

February has been a month of defeats — Roanoke Island, Forts Henry and Donelson, and now proud old Nashville. All have fallen. A bitter month for us. A grand battle is looked for today or tomorrow at Columbus [Ky.].

Another soldier is leaving our fireside. Brother Coley has joined Dr. Buckner’s cavalry company, and long before the month is over he will be on the field fighting to repel the invader. The first March winds find him safe in the haven of home. April will find him marching and counter-marching, weary and worn, and perhaps dead on the field of battle. He is full of life and hope, so interested in his company, and eager to be off. He says chains could not hold him at home. He has been riding ever since his return Wednesday trying to get the horses, subscriptions, and recruits for his company. Robert Norris goes with a sad foreboding heart to perform a dreaded duty. Brother Coley goes as a bridegroom to his wedding with high hopes and gay anticipations. Robert’s is really the highest type of courage. He sees the danger but presses on. Brother Coley does not even think of it — just a glorious fight for fame and honor.

Wonder of wonders. Mr. Valentine is at last alive to the issue. He is much excited and interested and is getting up a subscription of corn for the families of men who are volunteering back on the Macon. He is trying to raise a company and is getting an office in it. He will go as soon as possible. He and Mr. Catlin were here yesterday. Mamma subscribed 100 barrels of corn. When the two Mr. Valentines become enthusiastic warriors, times are growing warm. I did not see them — it was a business visit, and I had a rising on my face. Nothing but war talked of and companies are forming all through the country.

Mr. Davies, L’adorable, who is on a visit to Dr. Carson, and Mr. NcNeely spent the morning with us … Mr. Davies looks just as he did a year ago, except for his ravishing black mustache, and is as delightful as ever. He is wild to join the army but has his mother and four grown sisters absolutely dependent on him, and it seems impossible for him to get off. He says it is much harder to stay at home than to go.

Joe Carson is crazy to join the army. He cannot study, cannot think of anything else, but his parents will not consent. He is most wretched. The overseers and that class of men are abusing him roundly among themselves — a rich man’s son too good to fight the battles of the rich. Let the rich men go who are most interested. [The overseers] will stay at home. Such craven spirits. So few overseers have gone. …

Thursday we made two blue shirts for Brother Coley. Nearly all we can do for him. Made a comfort bag for him, one for Mr. Valentine, and will now make one for Robert.

March 2

Mr. Stenckrath is making himself wretched these last few days. He feels that he should join the army and he has not the requisite courage. He says, “It is a dreadful thing, Mees Kate, to go and be shoot at.” He is always harping on the dangers and trials of a soldier’s life, and his funny ways amuse us all. He says ill health will keep him here, and he is the picture of manly strength but is imagining himself into becoming a confirmed invalid. He says,”Mees Kate is driving me to the war. She talk so much about men going, and I so sensitive it move me silent for half an hour.” He says, ” I brave man but I no want to be shoot.” To look at it dispassionately, there does seem to be no reason why a foreigner, only here to teach and most probably opposed to all our institutions, should be expected to fight for our independence. And I really do not think it Mr. Stenckrath’s duty to go, but he will take all we say about other men who are shirking their duty as personal to him. And when we are all on fire with the subject, we cannot bridle our tongues all the time.

Well, Columbus [Ky.] is abandoned and with it Tennessee. Our Columbus army, without a shot or shell on either side, has retired to Island No. 10, and the Nashville army has fallen back to Decatur, Ala. They say the Island is much better adapted for defense than Columbus. Then how much time and money has been wasted at Columbus? How we would like to have a letter from Cousin Titia. I suppose she leads the retreat.

Robert came home with Brother Coley tonight. They must go to Vicksburg tomorrow. Robert is in much better spirits, and Brother Coley is jubliant.

March 8

Brother Coley and Robert got off just at sunrise. It was cold but they were well wrapped up. Robert returned the next day but Brother Coley is still there expecting to leave every day. Dr. Carson gave five bales of cotton to Dr. Buckner’s company and a horse, which Robert rode down, but he will not allow Joe to join, and the boy is nearly distracted with mortification and chagrin.

Mamma finished her silk quilt, I helped three days and then begged off. Quilting is a fearsome job. Have finished making the three “friends.”

Mr. Valentine failed to get an office in the company, and we fear he will not go, and that will make him fearfully unpopular with all classes. If we could see him, I am sure we could influence him. For his own sake he must join. Mr. Catlin’s last feint is that he will join a gunboat now in the docks. Robert has joined Sweet’s Artillery of Vicksburg and will get off Thursday.

Mamma and I went out by special invitation merely to call on the bride and Miss Lily and then to dine at Mrs. Carson’s, but Mrs. Savage would not hear of our leaving. She made us spend the day and a long, dull day it was, and so cold. We were the only invited guests for the day, but there are still sixteen grown people and numbers of children staying in the house. The dinner table was set on the back gallery. The bride had on a lovely dress of light blue silk with a silvery sheen, trimmed with dark blue velvet, black lace, and steel buckles. She looked as usual, sour and disagreeable, and was very silent, as was the groom. His powers of interrogation have not failed him. Talking alone with him, his first query was did I think his wife was handsome? With my opinion of Mrs. Lily’s looks it was “rather a staggerer” as I have a due regard for truth. I evaded the question, and he then wanted to know did I think her as good looking as he is? I could truthfully answer yes as Dr. Lily is not to say pretty. Still he was not satisfied but I cut the conversation short, tired of such a personal catechism.

Miss Lily is distinctly commonplace, rather a “muggins” and wears the oddest hairdress. Miss Bettie’s coiffure is mild compared to it. Rose attacked me for having said I thought Dr. Lily should go to the army. No doubt I have said so, for I certainly think it and am still of the same opinion, but I had not been rude enough to tell him so. With all of our relations going out to fight, I am not apt to think other men should sit comfortably at home.

Dr. Meagher was on hand, the handsomest, nicest looking of the lot. I told Anna I approved of her taste and if I had the opportunity might set my cap for him, a rival of hers. She declared there is nothing between them but there surely will be if they see much more of each other. All Mrs. Savage’s visitors leave today. The bride and groom go to Baton Rouge to visit his people. …

Mr. Stenckrath does not improve on acquaintance. He is very high tempered and irritable and so sensitive on the subject of the war. He says he cannot bear to hear us talk of it, which is too absurd, as if we could help talking in our own home circle of the most important and stirring facts in the world to us. He wants us to ignore the existence of any war and prattle on of the commonplaces of life as though victory and defeat, suffering and death, had never been heard of. He came back from Goodrich’s this evening wrought up to the highest pitch of rage and excitement. He had to drill with the militia and came back anathematizing on the militia, the officers, and everything connected with it. The greatest egotist applies everything said to himself — a hypochondriac. He complains all the time, often of an agonizing pain in his toe. But enough of this tiresome man!

We hear of a victory for us at Boston Mountain, Ark. No particulars. No news for days. The boats are all detained at Columbus removing government stores. The papers are making most stirring appeals to the people to give and to enlist. The Whig is most eloquent. A busy week for all of us. With morn comes toil but night brings rest.

March 9

Brother Coley came this evening. He will join his company Tuesday and they will leave for Jackson, Miss., Thursday and shortly after go to Jackson, Tenn. …

All of us but Mamma went out to the Lodge to hear Mr. Rutherford preach. He is a pleasant talker, and there was a large congregation. Better than all there were three soldiers in their uniforms, the two Mr. Buckners, one a captain and the other some officer, and a perfect love of a lieutenant in blue uniform and brass buttons galore. Six feet of soldier with brass buttons is irresistible, and all the girls capitulated at once. Did not hear his name, and my prophetic soul tells me he is married. Oh me!. He is one of the escaped heroes of Fort Donelson. He aroused my liveliest sympathy by being compelled to balance himself on a backless bench during the entire service. Is that the way to make our heroes love church?

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Victory will be ours

As the violence of war in 1862 grew closer to Brokenburn, the reliable and steady lines of communication with the outside world were disrupted.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

As the violence of war in 1862 grew closer to Brokenburn, the reliable and steady lines of communication with the outside world were disrupted. One by one, the array of Northern and Southern newspapers the Stone family — particularly Kate — regularly read stopped coming, and the Union campaigns to control the Mississippi River disrupted river boat traffic that carried precious letters and telegrams from Stone’s brother and uncle, both Confederate soldiers, amid other family news. So Stone’s active imagination was left to wonder, imagine, and hope that more victories over the North would be secured.

Stone yearned to join the men’s war. Note how spiteful she is of men who stay home instead of joining the army.

Feb. 20

Monday school started in My Brother’s room, and I go on with French under Mr. Stenckrath. He is to hear me after supper. I have been staying in Mamma’s room lately. Now, she, Sister, and Frank are all sound asleep, and I have just finished my French exercises. Mr. Stenkrath is a splendid teacher and likes his profession. He seems just the man for the boys. He seems to have a restless nature. From his confused account of himself, he has had a roving life, seldom staying more than a few months at a place, and so we need not expect to keep him long.

No mails for two weeks, the boat laid up for repairs.

The news for the last few days gathered from extras and dailies is bitterly disappointing: Forts Henry and Donelson given up, Bowling Green evacuated and shelled and burned by the enemy, and the Northern hordes marching on Nashville. Four days ago the people were leaving, and the town was being shelled by the gunboats. We do not care for those Kentucky towns; they deserve their fate. But Nashville, so true to the South, is a different matter. I know Dr. Elliott’s school will suffer. He is such an ardent Southerner. I graduated there. An excellent school it is.

It is a gloomy outlook just now but … victory will be ours at last.

Nothing from Cousin Titia and Jenny, and we looked for them today. There is no communication with Vicksburg; it might be under blockade for what we hear.

Mamma has finished the silk quilt, octagons of blue and yellow satin from two of her old dresses. Sister claims it. Aunt Laura’s, of purple and blue silk, is done and is exceedingly pretty. She has had several comforts made during the bad weather, and it has been so bad. I have about finished Beverly’s second apron, blue and white scallops with a bunch of heartsease embroidered in front and cute little pockets, also embroidered.

Feb. 21

Nashville has not yet fallen. Our army, 80,000 strong, is encamped around the city and the enemy is marching up, 250,000 of them, to battle. The general impression is that both Nashville and Memphis are doomed, and the Yankee gunboats will then descend the Mississippi and get all the cotton they can steal.

Brother Coley went to the last drill today at Willow Bayou. The company is broken up. There have been calls from the governors of all the river states for all the able-bodied men to come forward. Every man is speaking of joining the army, and we fear within a week Brother Coley will away.

In the present sad conditions of affairs traitors are springing up in every direction, as plentiful and busy as frogs in a marsh. I would not trust any man now who stays at home instead of going out to fight for his country.

I am tired. I have been so busy. Have read several hours French and English, sewed, practiced, written a letter, entertained Mr. Stockton for a time, played nine games of cards, eaten three meals and a luncheon, learned and recited four French lessons, and written all this. Surely it is bedtime.

Feb. 22

We had a surprising piece of family news this morning. Either Cousin Jenny or Cousin Titia was married a week ago today. We do not know which. Mr. Stockton mentioned it incidentally in the course of conversation, and after our surprised queries, he told us all he knew. He said that one of the young ladies was married at Dr. Buckner’s by Mr. Lord to a Tennessee soldier, name unknown, and started off next morning up the river. He did not know where. We are wild for particulars. Cannot tell why they have not let us know all about it.

Mr. Kaiser is off to the war and without bidding us good-bye. Mamma is trying to get a situation for Mr. Stockton and in the meanwhile is doctoring him up with all kinds of strong, hot medicines to make him well enough to accept a place should he get it. He has a horrid cold, and the poor fellow is perfectly obedient to Mamma. He takes all her doses without a murmur. Mr. Neily wishes a teacher, and Brother Coley went to see him this morning. He offers only $500. It is for his grandchildren. Mamma wrote also to Mrs. Savage and Mr. Harris, but neither wish a teacher just now. Anna writes Mrs. Savage has given out the idea of a large wedding. Only the families are to be present. Mamma sent Rose a lovely pincushion. Mrs. McRae is still very ill. Mamma spent part of the night there. I played three-handed euchre with Mr. Stockton and Mr. Stenckrath until, as the boys say, I am “dead beat.”

Feb. 24

News of a victory for us in Missouri in which Gen. Sigel, a German Yankee, was killed. All other tidings are gloomy but they have aroused the country with a trumpet call. There is the greatest excitement throughout the country. Almost everyone is going and going at once. Men are flocking to Johnston’s standard by the thousands. They are not waiting to form companies, but are going to join those already in the field. Every man gets ready as soon as he can possibly do so, makes his way to the river, hails the first upward bound boat, and is off to join in the fight at Nashville. The whole country is awake and on the watch think and talk only of war.

Robert came out this evening to consult with Brother Coley. He wants to go in the same company. But Brother Coley went to Vicksburg this morning to consult Dr. Buckner as to the best company for him to join. Robert is very low-spirited but determined on going. He says he knows he will never return. I like him very much and will be sorry to tell him good-bye. Mamma received a letter from Dr. Buckner today. He expects to leave with his company in two or three days and wrote for Brother Coley and Brother Walter. His is a cavalry company.

It was Cousin Titia who was married. We do not know to whom. They left for camp at Columbus, Miss.

Feb. 25

Our first mail for three weeks. Numbers of letters — a grieved one from Kate and an old one from My Brother. Cousin Titia married Mr. Charles Frazer, a lawyer of Memphis. They have been engaged for some time but it was an unexpected marriage. He got a furlough, came to Vicksburg, and insisted on being married, and so they were and went on to camp together at Columbus, Miss. Cousin Titia wrote to Mamma and tried to telegraph.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: The little creature

She had a sharp tongue for women she disliked.

From 2012 to 2015, Stillness of Heart will share interesting excerpts from the extraordinary diary of Kate Stone, the daughter of Louisiana cotton plantation owners who chronicled her turbulent life throughout the Civil War era.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

Boredom mixed with tragedy and sadness at Brokenburn throughout a chilly February 1862. Rain fell. Aprons were sewn. Novels were read. Detested quilts were produced.

Then, a slave baby died. Stone dutifully noted the tragedy with coolness, showing passion and frustration only when she imagined the violent and exciting world at war beyond her plantation’s muddy borders. News from the front was as dark as the winter weather.

Also, note Stone’s sharp tongue for women she disliked.

Feb. 1

It is raining and it is hailing, and it is cold stormy weather. The worst winter weather. … Practiced on the piano … until bedtime. I have commenced a set of linen aprons for Beverly. Will embroider them all, some in white and two or three in blue and red. I intend to make them pretty and dainty to suit the dear little wearer. Mamma’s trunk came today and so we will have plenty of sewing for some time.

Have nothing new to read. Thus I have taken up my old favorite, [Walter] Scott, the Prince of Novelists. Who of the modern writers can compare with him?

Another death among the Negroes today Jane Eyre, Malona’s baby. The little creature was lying in its mother’s lap laughing and playing when it suddenly threw itself back, straightened out, and was dead. It is impossible to know what was the matter as it seemed perfectly well a minute before it died. This is the third child the mother has lost since Mamma bought her, and she seems devotedly attached to her babies. This is her last child.

The boys have been out in the rain most of the day rabbit hunting. … We all accuse Johnny of growing misanthropic since mixing with his fellowmen. Going to school with so many seems to induce most sour and cynical ideas. Little Sister wearies of the tedium of home after three weeks of school and wants to go with the boys, but Mamma thinks it too cold and wet for her to venture out. So she must needs bide at home and play dolls.

No war news or any other kind. Oh, this inactive life when there is such stir and excitement in the busy world outside. It is enough to run one wild. Oh! to be in the heat and turmoil of it all, to live, to live, not stagnate here.

How can a man rest quietly at home when battles are being fought and fields lost and won every day? I would eat my heart away were I a man at home [during] these troublous times.

Feb. 4

Sister has been suffering for several days with neuralgia and it is but little sleep either she or Mamma has had. …

Mamma had several of the women from the quarter sewing. Nothing to be done in the fields — too muddy. They put in and finished quilting a comfort made of two of my cashmere dresses. Mamma had Aunt Laura’s silk one put in today and Sue is quilting on it. I am so afraid Mamma will commence work on it herself, and if she does I shall feel in duty bound to put up my linen embroidery and help her. And I simply detest making and quilting quilts. Precious little of it have I ever done. This will be a lovely silk affair. Aunt Laura always has so many pretty silks and wears them such a little while that they are never soiled. After quilting, one rises from the chair with such a backache, headache, and bleeding pricked fingers.

Feb. 5

Mamma is busy on the silk quilt destined for Sister. Both Walter and Sister are better. The others are at school. Worked myself half blind on Beverly’s aprons to- night. Have been intending to take up French again, but studying is too humdrum work for these times. The boys say there is a runaway about the country. That makes one feel creepy when alone at night. So out with the light and to sleep to dream.

Feb. 16

Last week the weather was fine and the roads improved, and so we went out in the carriage to Mrs. Savage’s, stopping by for Mrs. Carson, who had been ill for two weeks and could not go. We found all at Mrs. Savage’s in the hurry and bustle of wedding arrangements all working on white linen. Mrs. Savage is charmed at the match and is just in her element preparing for a wedding. She has bought two new carpets and a pretty ashes of rose silk for Anna. She had it made in New Orleans and also two pretty summer dresses. Rose looks perfectly happy and content with the prettiest possible engagement ring flashing and sparkling on her finger a big solitaire, the image of Aunt Sarah’s.

I had no idea Rose’s face could wear such a joyous look, but even joy and youth cannot make her pretty. Anna Dobbs, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, and Rose’s mother came in the evening from Bayou Macon by way of Richmond, the swamp being impassable. What a weary, bedraggled, tacky-looking set they were.

Rose’s want of beauty is explained as soon as you see her mother, a regular witch of an old lady with the most apologetic, deprecating air. She has put up with many a snob, you can see, and has Bayou Macon written all over her. Now is not it mean of me to write in that way of that harmless old lady and I know absolutely nothing of her? She may be in her daily life an uncannonized saint. …

The war news is very bad, only defeats Roanoke Island, fall of Fort Henry, and the ascent of the Tennessee River and shelling of Florence, Ala. We still hold Fort Donelson, though it has been under fire for two days.

A heavy snowstorm the deepest snow we ever had. The children enjoy snowballing and we all enjoy the ice cream. There is not much milk left for butter after the boys get out of the dairy.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: They close in and kill

As the winter of 1862 turned Brokenburn into a snowy, muddy landscape, Stone sensed the war was growing ever closer as the joys and comforts she had always enjoyed were slipping away.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

Stone was in marginal command of Brokenburn as her mother and brothers attended to business in and around Vicksburg. As the winter of 1862 turned Brokenburn into a snowy, muddy landscape, she dutifully recorded the comings and goings of family friends, neighborhood gossip, and her brothers’ dreaded school lessons.

By the end of January, however, slaves and animals belonging to Ashburn, her late brother, were distributed to other owners, bringing Stone a degree of “distress,” and the demands and tragedies of a still far-off war were again felt in Louisiana. Stone sensed the war was growing ever closer as the joys and comforts she had always enjoyed were slipping away.

Jan. 16:

Real winter weather at last with sleet and snow whitening the ground a real winter landscape. We made some ice cream last night, ate it this morning, and pronounced it splendid. Today they are killing the last of the hogs, and all of the house servants with a contingent from the quarters are making lard, sausage, souse, etc., etc. ..

Jan. 17:

The snow is melting and running off the house in a continual rain and underfoot is too slushy for anything. It is too cold and wet for Sister to go to school, but the boys went and came in this evening covered with mud but in high good humor. Each one has an essay to write, their first attempt, and it seems to hang over them as a regular kill-joy. Brother Coley is studying at home for several hours a day. I have been sewing and reading “The Pilgrims of the Rhine,” a perfect prose poem. …

Jan. 20:

Sunday, though it was cloudy, windy, and so muddy, all of us went to church, leaving only Brother Walter at home. Mr. Holbury gave us an excellent sermon. We saw nearly everyone we know in that section and also met the new Presbyterian minister, Mr. McNeely, and Anna’s bright, particular star, Dr. Meagher from Franklin Parish. It looks like there might be serious intentions in that quarter, for Mrs. Savage permits no flirting on her premises and is a famous matchmaker. The Doctor is quite nice looking. …

Dr. Lily left last week, I suppose for the army, and did not come out to say farewell. And such a friend as he claimed to be to the Brokenburn household! I was sorry he left in a bad humor with us.

Mr. and Mrs. Goodrich were at church, his first attendance for years. The death of their little girl Sarah not long since was a dreadful blow to them. She was a bright, attractive child about thirteen who died of diphtheria. They have one little boy.

Jan. 22:

Gen. [Leonidas] Polk has called on the planters from Memphis to the lower part of Carroll Parish for hands to complete the fortifications at Fort Pillow, forty miles above Memphis. A great many Negroes have been sent from Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Mississippi, and now it comes Louisiana’s time to shoulder her part of the common burden. A man was here today with Gen. Polk’s appeal. He had been riding constantly since Monday from one plantation to another, and nearly everyone had promised to send some half of their force of men, some more, some less. As they get off tomorrow evening, Brother Coley had to go down to see Mamma about it.

Took a cozy dinner all to myself shut up in Mamma’s room, which I am occupying while she is away and which Frank keeps at summer heat. I find the piano a great resource as I am recalling some of my music. … We miss Mamma dreadfully.

The boys start to school immediately after breakfast and get home just at sunset, and directly after supper they commence on next day’s lessons. Brother Walter has just worried through his first essay. It is short and of course must be filled with mistakes, but he will not let us look at it. It is the first step that costs. Hereafter, hope he will not find it such a job. The other two boys are hammering away at their speeches. Sister has not attained to the dignity of either writing or speaking yet awhile.

Jan. 24:

Mamma and Other Pa (Stone’s maternal grandfather) got home late Thursday evening. We were not looking for them and no supper had been kept hot, as it was some time before then that hot supper was served. Other Pa only came on business and went back to Vicksburg carrying with him Ashburn’s Negroes, who are to be divided out among the heirs. Separating the old family Negroes who have lived and worked together for so many years is a great grief to them and a distress to us. I wish Mamma had been able to buy them all in and keep them here.

Stone reported the final distribution of her late brother’s slaves and animals on Jan. 30:

From Ashburn’s estate Mamma drew two Negroes, Mathilda and Abe. Patsy and John went to Cousins Jenny and Titia. They all came up on the boat this afternoon. Mat with Festus, the horse, goes to Uncle Johnny, Hill to Uncle Bo, Peggy and Jane to Aunt Laura, and Sydney and her two youngest children to Aunt Sarah. It is hard for Sydney and her older children to be separated. We are so sorry but cannot help it.

Jan. 27:

We went to hear Mr. McNeely preach Sunday rather dry and humdrum. Dr. Carson took him all around the country to introduce him to his new field of work. Quite pleasant socially, and could not be called ceremonious.

But I forget. I must give the real neighborhood news. Rose and Dr. Lily are to be married very soon — my pet prejudice, Rose Norris and the “Tiger Lily.” She will be Mrs. “Rose Lily.” She slipped quietly off with Mrs. Savage to New Orleans and is selecting her trousseau. … I never would have picked Rose Norris out of all the world to spend my life with. For that matter, neither would I have selected Dr. Lily for that post. But oh! how tastes differ. I cannot believe he is in love with her. It has been too recently that he was criticizing her severely her looks, her walk, her manner. If it proves a happy marriage, I shall be surprised. She is quite young, about seventeen I think. …

Jan. 30:

A late mail this evening. A letter from My Brother complains that it is dreadfully dull. They are just wearing the time away winterbound in their tents. The papers confirm our defeat at Fishing Creek and the death of Gen. Zollicoffer. Two lamentable events. Mr. McNeely knew Gen. Zollicoffer intimately and grieves for his death. He admired him greatly and considers his death a great loss to the Southern Cause.

The whole Northern Army is now on the move preparing to attack us at all points. We expect to hear of great battles within the next few days. God grant us victory in our just war. The manner in which the North is moving her forces, now that she thinks us surrounded and can give us the annihilating blow, reminds me of a party of hunters crouched around the covert of the deer, and when the lines are drawn and there is no escape, they close in and kill. …

It looks like we may have difficulty in getting summer clothes. The merchants are selling only for cash and that cash is hard to get, unless we can do as they seem to be doing in the towns make it. Judging from the looks of the paper money and the many signatures on odd-looking paper and pasteboard, one would be convinced that many people are making their own money. We have spent less this year than ever before. Have bought only absolute necessaries — no frills and fur belows for us. Affairs are too grave to think of dress.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Happy birthday

As she faced a long, hard year ahead, on Jan. 8, 1862, Stone made a fresh promise to herself as an individual and as a citizen of the Confederacy.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

As she faced a long, hard year ahead, on Jan. 8, 1862, Stone made a fresh promise to herself as an individual and as a citizen of the Confederacy.

Jan. 8:

This is my twenty-first birthday, and I think this will be my motto for the year so uncertain are all our surroundings: “Live for today. Tomorrow’s night, tomorrow’s cares shall bring to light.” May I always be able to put my trust in God as I can tonight, satisfied that He will order our future as is best.

This has been a year of changes, of stirring and eventful life, the shortest ever in our calendar. God has been with our Nation during this year of trouble. He has given us wise rulers, brave and successful generals, valiant and patriotic men, and a united people, self-sacrificing and with their trust in God. …

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Sad Christmas

Stone’s first entry for 1862 was a somber one. The shadow of her brother’s death darkened the holiday cheer.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

Stone’s first entry for 1862 was a somber one. The shadow of her brother’s death darkened the holiday cheer.

Jan. 6:

Christmas passed very quietly with us. Greetings on all sides but no gifts and not many good things prepared beforehand. Had the customary eggnog before breakfast, but not a prize nog. It was made of borrowed whiskey with a strong flavor of turpentine. A lovely day, so warm that we sat on the gallery until bedtime.

Julia Reed came on the twenty-seventh and stayed until today. This is the first Christmas in our recollection that was not a time of fun and feasting. We missed Ashburn’s kiss and blithesome presence.

Mamma invited the two Mr. Valentines, father and son, to dinner, thinking it would be pleasant for Other Pa (Stone’s maternal grandfather) to meet the older man, and rather to our surprise they came and stayed until sundown. We never heard of Mr. Valentine, Sr., paying a social visit before. He is odd, just as we fancied he would be, but an excellent talker. He and his son are strikingly alike in looks, manners, and turn of mind, though they generally take opposite sides on every proposition. Mark, Jr., says they are forced to do so to have something to talk about the long winter evenings.

Mark, Jr., acquainted us with his fixed determination to pay us a New Year’s call. So Julia and I hurried back from our ride that misty, misty morning and looked for him all day. In the afternoon we begged Mamma to let us pay our expected visit to Mrs. Savage, but she would not allow it. So he ruined our plans for all day. It will be long before we let an engagement with him keep us in again.

The morning after Christmas Mamma gave all the house servants holiday … and they all went down to the quarters. She hired some of the field women, who were busy in the backyard drying out lard, making up sausages, cleaning feet and so on. …

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Rainy days

As the war’s first Christmas approached, life went on at Brokenburn. Soft winter rain drenched the neighborhood. A strange relative got married. Sickness claimed yet another acquaintance. It’s a fascinating record of a quiet home front. Quiet for the moment.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

Dec. 22:

I have been sleeping with Mamma and so I have not written for some time, as night is my time for scribbling.

Aunt Laura left us ten days ago after a two-week stay, and she seemed to enjoy so much being with us all, especially Mamma. Her visit was a pleasure to us. …

After two weeks of the lovliest warm spring weather with skies as blue and bright as bend over Italian plains, we wake to hear a soft, warm rain pattering down, and so no church for us today. And none of us went last Sunday. Sunday spent at home is a long, weary day. …

The greatest news of all Uncle Johnny is married. On the seventeenth of this month he gave his heart and hand to Miss Kate Boone, a girl from Charleston, S.C., who has been visiting her brother at Pine Bluff, Ark., for some months. She is quite a young girl, not more than seventeen, while Uncle Johnny is thirty-five. We wish them every happiness, and I wish he would bring her down to see us. I only hope he will not try to educate her according to his theories but will let her go on as Nature and her own antecedents and education would have her. But for years he has had the idea of marrying a very young girl and molding and educating her according to his pet theories. My mind misgives me that such is still his plan.

Other Pa (Stone’s maternal grandfather) left the day after the wedding, which was very quiet. He is not pleased with the marriage, though he does not say much against it. Uncle John is editing a paper in Pine Bluff. He is a most impracticable man with so many theories, and he has made ducks and drakes of all the money inherited from Other Ma (Stone’s maternal grandmother) and every other cent he could get. We hope marriage will be his salvation, an anchor to keep him from drifting with every tide, or feeling, or impulse. Johnny says he shall call his new Aunt “Aunt Boone.” He likes it better than “Kate.” I have pre-emption title on that name. …

Mrs. Virginia Cavalier, the oldest sister of the Morris girls, died a week ago of swamp fever. She was a widow with two young children and a very attractive woman. Her brother-in-law, Mr. Joe Cavalier, has been addressing her for the last year, so report says.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: The noble, gentle heart

Stone was an insightful, often self-deprecating, and intelligent writer, but she never wrote more beautifully than when she endured tragedy.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

Stone was an insightful, often self-deprecating, and intelligent writer, but she never wrote more beautifully than when she endured tragedy.

The sickness that ravaged the Stone family was too much for Stone’s brother Ashburn, who died soon after their older brother left to rejoin his Confederate unit. Their mother accompanied the soldier to his embarkation point at Vicksburg, Miss., and she was too far away to rejoin her dying son in his final moments. As Stone grieved, her journal sat silent for two weeks. In late November, she began to write again.

Amidst her sorrow she took a moment to reflect on her mother’s beauty and character. It’s a fascinating and affectionate celebration of the woman Stone admired above all others.

Nov. 27:

How can I write the record of the last two weeks? It seems that the trouble and grief of years has been pressed into that short space of time. Ashburn, our darling, has gone, never to return. Oh! how we miss him every hour in the day. The noble, gentle heart and the loving sensitive nature are stilled forever, passed from the world as though they had never been. What great thoughts, loving wishes, and proud hopes lie buried in his grave. So young, so bouyant, so full of life and happiness, brilliant with the very joy of living such a little while ago, and now dead. …

Nov. 28:

Ashburn died on Tuesday, November 12, at 11 o’clock at night of swamp fever. We sent for Mamma very early Tuesday morning, but she could not get here until Wednesday morning too late. She was so dreadfully distressed. As soon as he died, Brother Coley started at once to Vicksburg to meet Mamma and to make arrangements for the burial. He reached DeSoto just as she crossed the ferry, and as soon as she saw him she knew the worst.

Brother Walter had gone for her and brought her back. She so reproached herself for leaving him when he was sick, but we told her everybody on the place had been sick off and on all summer and she could not know this would be a serious illness. She loved him so. We always told her that she loved and indulged him more than any of us, and she always said, why, he was the best boy of them all and never gave any occasion to be scolded.

Nov. 29:

[Ashburn’s] was buried Thursday in a clump of woods just back of the house, the new family graveyard. Our Father and two little sisters were removed there from the old graveyard a year ago.

Here at home all seems strangely dull and sad. …

A warm lovely week, a wanderer from the April sisterhood. No frost and the flowers are still in fullest bloom roses and annuals, as gay as in May. “The Melancholy days have come” for our household but not for Dame Nature. The boys have been out hunting most of the day with poor success one duck but the woods are full of game and the lakes covered with ducks.

Brother Coley and Mr. Reading went to attend the drill at Willow Bayou and to bid adieu to Mr. Reading’s friends. They went from there to Omega. No mail. But Brother Coley brought back the paper containing the resolutions of sympathy passed by the Willow Bayou company on Ashburn’s death. How he loved all military matters.

Mamma was talking tonight of her early days. She was married before she was sixteen, before she had left school, but she had been out enough to reject ten lovers before she met papa. All of them are living still. She was and is a beautiful woman of most attractive manner and a brilliant conversationalist with a great power of attracting love, the first and greatest gift that can be bestowed on anyone. She has the most cheerful, brightest spirit and is a brave resourceful woman. None of the children bear a strong resemblance to either her or our Father. Brother Walter is most like her.

Nov. 30:

This is the last day of a month that brought us unmixed joy and hopeless sorrow. My Brother was with us at its commencement and now at the close he is in camp again, and one of our dearest and best has bidden farewell to Earth and floated out on the dark river.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Gladden our hearts

As Stone celebrated one brother, she expressed deep discomfort with another.

Learn more about Stone’s amazing life in 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865 and beyond. Click on each year to read more about her experiences. You can read the entire journal online here.

In mid-October 1861, Stone’s brother, who served in the Confederate army in Virginia, returned to Brokenburn for a rest. Stone was elated to see him. His stories from the battlefields fascinated and horrified her. He rejoined a family wracked by seasonal sicknesses. As Stone celebrated one brother, she expressed deep discomfort with another.

Oct. 19:

What a joyous evening to us all. My Brother came a complete surprise to us all. Sent home on sick furlough. He has had typhoid fever for a month and as soon as convalescent the surgeon sent him home. He looks taller and has lost forty pounds. Home life and love will soon build him up. He came at dusk. We have kept him talking until eleven, and that was not wise, as of course he is tired. He told us many funny anecdotes of his experiences as assistant provost marshal. He likes the marshal exceedingly. How horrible is the idea of the visitors to the Manassas battlefield rifling the graves of Northern soldiers for mementoes. They should be put in the front ranks of the next battle. It is positively ghoulish. Johnny went out for the mail and brought My Brother instead. Mr. Bledsoe kindly sent him out in his buggy. Our heartfelt thanks go up to God for having returned to us our best beloved brother.

Oct. 22:

My Brother is a bright yellow, even the skin of his head, like an orange or a pumpkin, and Dr. Lily has prescribed sugar cane for him. He is to eat all of it he can. Dr. Carson sent him a wagonload of it by the wagon that carried out the cotton that Mamma and others subscribed to the sewing society.

Oct. 28:

Today is but a catalogue of chills. Ashburn and Brother Coley shivered through the morning and burned all the evening. Timely doses of quinine kept them off Sister and Johnny. Sister has been sick since Friday and Mamma had Dr. Lily for her. Charles and Sarah are up today and Lucy and Prank down.

My Brother went out this evening to see Dr. Carson. His appetite is better and he is gaining strength.

They are digging potatoes today. Promises to be a noble lot. Annie is helping Uncle Hoccles gather the goober peas [peanuts]. It looks like a month’s job for him. Jimmy and I made some pecan and pull candy this evening and I wish we had not.

Brother Walter teased and worried us, and we all got tired of it and appealed to Mamma when Brother Walter flew into one of his unreasoning rages (fortunately such attacks are rare) and behaved so badly that we have all been uncomfortable ever since. He is the only one of my brothers I ever thought really needed punishing and the only one I ever feel like quarreling with. I believe he is the brightest of all the boys, converses so well, has Mamma’s gift in that, and looks more like her than any of her children.

Nov. 10:

My Brother left us today to join his regiment at Evansport on Occoquan Creek in Virginia. His health is quite restored but Oh! how we hate to give him up. His visit home has been such a delight to us. When will he come to gladden our hearts again?

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