Stone offers a fascinating portrait of how war changed even the smallest elements of daily life.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
Stone offers a fascinating portrait of how war changed even the smallest elements of daily life.
May 22
All yesterday and today we have heard cannonading at Vicksburg, sometimes so faint that it is more a vibration than a noise and again quite a loud, clear report. Oh, if we could only know just what is going on there. But it may be days before we get any authentic accounts. We do not know the importance of holding Vicksburg. We know nothing of the plans. Some say the resistance there is only a feint to give Beauregard more time at Corinth, Miss., but we hope it is a desperate attempt to hold the city against all odds. We are sick of hearing of these prudent, cautious retreats without firing a gun. Our only hope is in desperate fighting. We are so outnumbered. We think Dr. Buckner’s company is in Vicksburg, but being cavalry they may not be engaged.
Evening. Brother Walter rode out on the dangerous levee and he thinks it will hold. Heard that the attack on Vicksburg will be made this evening at 3 o’clock, the enemy landing at Warrenton and coming in the rear of the city. Brother Walter is almost wild to take part in the battle there. He has been in tears about it for the last week. … He says he must and will be in that fight, but we are not very anxious about him. We are sure all skiffs leaving Pecan Grove will have gotten away long before he reaches there, as it was two when he left. Mamma gave him some money but he took no clothes. He will be compelled to return soon. But Mamma feels that before many days she will be called on to give up this her third son to fight for his country. …
All the boats stopped running three weeks ago on the fall of New Orleans and we have not had a mail since. There is no communication with anywhere except by skiff as the levees are broken between here and Vicksburg.
All the boys are out on the river, and we expect them to bring Anna Dobbs back with them to stay a few days. It seems odd to be expecting company and no flour or any “boughten” delicacy to regale them on, but we have been on a strict “war footing” for some time cornbread and home-raised meal, milk and butter, tea once a day, and coffee never. A year ago we would have considered it impossible to get on for a day without the things that we have been doing without for months. Fortunately we have sugar and molasses, and after all it is not such hard living. Common cornbread admits of many variations in the hands of a good cook eggbread (we have lots of eggs), muffins, cakes, and so on. Fat meat will be unmitigated fat meat, but one need not eat it. And there are chickens, occasional partridges, and other birds, and often venison, vegetables of all kinds minus potatoes; and last but not least, knowing there is no help for it makes one content. …
Clothes have become a secondary consideration. Fashion is an obsolete word and just to be decently clad is all we expect. The change in dress, habits, and customs is nowhere more striking than in the towns. A year ago a gentleman never thought of carrying a bundle, even a small one, through the streets. Broadcloth was de rigueur. Ceremony and fashion ruled in the land. Presto-change. Now the highest in rank may be seen doing any kind of work that their hands find to do. The men have become “hewers of wood and drawers of water” and pack bundles of all sorts and sizes. It may be a pile of blankets, a stack of buckets, or a dozen bundles. One gentleman I saw walking down the street in Jackson, and a splendid-looking fellow he was, had a piece of fish in one hand, a cavalry saddle on his back, bridle, blankets, newspapers, and a small parcel in the other hand; and over his shoulder swung an immense pair of cavalry boots. And nobody thought he looked odd. Their willingness to fetch and carry is only limited by their strength. All the soldiers one sees when traveling are loaded down with canteen, knapsack, haversack, and blankets.
Broadcloth is worn only by the drones and fireside braves. Dyed linsey is now the fashionable material for coats and pants. Vests are done away with, colored flannel, merino, or silk overshirts taking the place. A gentleman thinks nothing of calling on half a dozen young ladies dressed in home-dyed Negro cloth and blue checked shirt. If there is a button or stripe to show that he is one of his country’s defenders, he is sure of warmest welcome. Another stops to talk to a bevy of ladies. He is laden down with a package of socks and tin plates that he is carrying out to camp, and he shifts the bundles from side to side as he grows interested and his arms get tired. In proportion as we have been a race of haughty, indolent, and waited-on people, so now are we ready to do away with all forms and work and wait on ourselves.
The Southerners are a noble race, let them be reviled as they may, and I thank God that He has given my birthplace in this fair land among these gallant people and in a time when I can show my devotion to my Country.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
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.
Stone’s diary recorded a fascinating variety of situations that governed which men went off to war and which ones stayed home.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
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?
As the violence of war in 1862 grew closer to Brokenburn, the reliable and steady lines of communication with the outside world were disrupted.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
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.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
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.
Families shattered. Love lost. Fears deepened. Tightly-held hopes slowly suffocating.
‘Capture of Ricketts’ Battery’ by Sidney E. King
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
In late July, Stone’s diary recorded news of the first major battle between Union and Confederate forces in Virginia, the Battle of Bull Run, or the Battle of Manassas, fought on July 21, 1861. The word “First” often accompanies historical mention of this battle because a second battle would be fought on or near the same ground 13 months later.
July 26
Received telegraphic accounts of our first pitched battle fought at Manassas Junction. Our side victorious, of course. A reported loss of 3,000 for us and 7,000 for the Yankees. The losses we hope are exaggerated. Reported that Gen. [Winfield] Scott and [Jefferson] Davis were in command. If Gen. Scott is defeated, it will make our victory more complete. My Brother and Uncle Bo may have been in the fight, but we hardly think so as on the thirteenth they were still in Richmond.
Stone received wrong information on who was in field command. Irvin McDowell commanded Union forces, and Joseph E. Johnston and P.G.T Beauregard commanded the Confederates. Winfield Scott was general-in-chief of all Union forces, and he had remained in Washington. Confederate President Jefferson Davis visited the battlefield near the end of the fighting.
The battlefield maps and accounts of combat are always tragically fascinating, but Stone’s diary instilled in me a genuine sensitivity and respect for the real cost of these engagements. Families shattered. Love lost. Fears deepened. Tightly-held hopes slowly suffocating. Manassas was only the beginning.
July 29
Mamma and Mr. Newton rode to Omega yesterday morning and learned some of the details of the Manassas battle. It was gallantly fought and won. Poor Col. Bartow fell, banner in hand, rushing on so bravely. Mr. Newton heard his brother George was in the fight but came through unharmed.
Tomorrow is a day of thanksgiving for victory. Mr. Newton leaves us for his home early Monday. He is busy tonight packing. How much we will all miss him.
July 30
We are all sorry for Dr. Lily. Sunday, he sent Mamma word that he was going on to Richmond to see his brother and would take any letter or message. Mamma had only time to write a short letter to My Brother, and Brother Coley started with it and met Dr. Lily at the gate, just starting on his way to Richmond. He had received a dispatch that his brother, a boy of seventeen, was dangerously wounded in the battle, and he was going on to be with him. All the gentlemen seem to be leaving for Richmond. Mr. Catlin sent us word that he would leave at once and we sent letters by him. …
Hard, historic days of decision, she knew, lay ahead.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
Independence Day, 1861, inspired Stone to reflect on the remnants of the Union her generation inherited from the Founding Fathers. Hard, historic days of decision, she knew, lay ahead.
July 4
Mamma is still in bed but is better. The boys have holiday in honor of the Fourth but more I think to keep up old customs than for any feeling of respect for the day. This is the first Fourth in our memory to pass without a public merrymaking of some kind, but we do not hear of the day’s being celebrated in town or country. There are other and sterner duties before us. It would ill become us as a Nation to be celebrating a day of independence when we are fighting for our very existence.
This July sun has set on a Nation in arms against itself, host against host. Those who have clasped each other’s hands in kindest spirits less than one short year ago, as friends, as countrymen, as children of one common Mother, now stand opposing each other in deadliest hate, eager to water Old Mother Earth with the blood of her children. Our Cause is right and God will give us the victory. Will the next July sun rise on a Nation peaceful, prosperous, and happy, or on a land desolate and disgraced? He alone knows.
Congress meets today. The lives of thousands hang on its decision. Will it be for peace or war? We should know by Saturday.
July 5
The Fourth and today passed without any trouble with the Negroes. The general impression has been that the Negroes looked for a great upheaval of some kind on that day. In some way they have gotten a confused idea of Lincoln’s Congress meeting and of the war; they think it is all to help them, and they expected for “something to turn up.” I hope the house servants will settle to their work now.
July 17
Mamma and I went out Monday and took dinner with Mrs. Savage and went up in the afternoon to call on Mrs. Carson. I remained there until this evening. Mamma came out and spent the day. Had a delightful visit. It is a most hospitable home, complete in all its appointments lovely gardens and orchards, an old place well taken care of with perfect service because of so many servants.
We admire Dr. Carson greatly. He is such a humane master and good Christian. He has the minister to preach regularly to his Negroes, or if there is no minister, he or one of the boys reads a sermon, hymns, and the Bible to them every Sunday afternoon. And he has Sunday school for them. He raises plenty of fruit and vegetables for everybody on the place, and his quarter lot is the prettiest place, a great stretch of thick green turf dotted with great forest trees and a double row of two-room cabins shining with whitewash. It is the cleanest-looking place I ever saw. He is a good man. Mamma has the minister to preach to our Negroes when he can find time, but that is not as often as we wish.
She never thought she was attractive. She never thought she’d be loved. But on one rainy day, a conversation with her mother changed everything.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
July 1861 at Brokenburn began amidst sickness, and Stone was restless. She had always known she was smart, witty, well-read, and insightful. Like many people today, she never believed she was attractive, and that insecurity was a black cloud that darkened every aspect of her emotional life. But on one rainy day, a conversation with her mother inspired her to completely reshape her self-image.
July 1
Mamma is sick again today from the medicine. I hope she will be relieved by tomorrow. It upsets everything for her to be sick. I cannot settle to any work or even read with any comprehension. … A wet disagreeable day, Mamma sleeping through most of it, but she waked up this evening and was telling me tales of my babyhood and early childhood.
It seems My Brother and I were quite noted little people in our circle of acquaintances. At eighteen months I learned my letters with My Brother, who was fifteen months older, and by the time I was two and a half could read very well. I knew “Mother Goose” by heart, could repeat pages of poetry and a number of little tales, and chatter of any and everything by the hour.
And yet I was a good little child and the delight of my Father, who thought me a wonderful little creature and would never let me be crossed. I was his only daughter for so long. I remember his pleasure when Sister was born after six sons had been ushered into the world. …
I do not remember the time when I could not read. My first recollection of books was trying to teach my little Aunt Serena, three years the older, her letters, sitting side by side on the steps. How strange it seemed to me that she could not read. I thought everybody read as everybody talked naturally.
Mamma’s talk was a great surprise to me as I had always thought I was the ugly duckling of the whole family. … I had always, since I could think, had the idea that my Father and all the family petted and encouraged me because they thought me so ugly and were sorry all the time that I was suffering from this idea, for it has been the shadow on my life. I was my Father’s favorite; he thought me perfect. I had the admiration of the rest of the family for what they were pleased to think my quick, bright mind.
The knowledge of this will, I think, change my life from this night. Finding that I have been much beloved all my life, I will try to put away the morbid thoughts that have so often harassed me the fear that, being ugly and unattractive, no one could ever really care for me, and that I was doomed to a life of loneliness and despair. Mamma by one long, sweet talk … exorcised this gloomy spirit; from this time forth I will try to make the best of the girl that Father loved so.
Mamma says I was the quaintest-looking little figure when three years old, being small with long yellow hair plaited down my back my Father would never allow it to be touched with the scissors. I had a short, stumpy, little body and the very tiniest feet and hands, like bird claws, so small and thin, and a grave dignified manner. But I was an incessant chatterbox with the funniest lisp when perched in a high chair in the chimney corner reciting poetry and telling tales to amuse the laughing grown folks.
The lisp I have kept to this day, try as I will to get rid of it. But not another feature is like the Kate of today. I am tall, not quite five feet six, and thin, have an irregular face, a quantity of brown hair, a shy, quiet manner, and talk but little.
What an egotistical page, but it has made me happy. No more morose dreamings, but a new outlook on life.
As the month closed, Stone’s natural defiance blossomed, she complained about the slaves, and a comet appeared in the sky.
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.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
On June 18, 1861, tragic news darkened the pages of Stone’s diary:
Aunt Laura is ill. She has just lost a young baby and I know is much distressed and disappointed. She is so devoted to her only child, Beverly, the loveliest little girl I ever saw. Dr. Buckner thinks her perfect and really I believe she is, bodily, mentally, and physically.
The little baby, we hear, was horribly deformed. God in mercy took it, but Aunt Laura knows nothing of its misfortune.
June 19 saw an interesting incident:
Great excitement! About nine in the evening we were sitting on the front gallery and a runaway Negro passed just in front of the house. The boys rushed out after him, but he soon distanced them, and I was glad he escaped. I hate to think how he will be punished, perhaps whipped unmercifully.
The runaways are numerous and bold. We live on a mine that the Negroes are suspected of an intention to spring on the fourth of next month. The information may be true or false, but they are being well watched in every section where there are any suspects. Our faith is with God.
Stone expressed anxiety for the fate of the “runaway Negro” should he be captured. Was it private sympathy for someone hunted by a slaveholding machinery whose brutality she knew all too well? She encapsulated the family’s general paranoia as they wondered about their own fate. How did that uncertainty mutate Southern perspectives on American society, their sense of how the future of their nation should unfold, and their interpretation of God’s plan for their society? Was it easier to simply focus on how many berries they picked for supper that afternoon, whose baby was lost, or who was joining them for dinner that night?
As the month closed, Stone’s natural defiance blossomed, she complained about the slaves, and a comet appeared in the sky:
A beautiful sunshiny day. Just enough rain has fallen to perfect the corn and help the cotton. Surely this year we have had “the early and the latter rains” and the promise of abundant crops. The North cannot starve us, try as they may, and God will aid us in our righteous cause. …
The house servants have been giving a lot of trouble lately — lazy and disobedient. Will have to send one or two to the field and replace them from the quarters if they do not settle down. I suppose the excitement in the air has infected them. The field hands go on without trouble. …
There is a comet visible tonight. We were surprised to see it, as we did not know it was expected. Have seen nothing of it in the papers. It is not very bright but has the appearance of a large star, Venus at her brightest, with a long train of light seen dimly as through a mist. Jimmy first discovered it. Two splendid meteors fell just above it, and the boys said it was a big star chased by little ones trying to regain its orbit.
Kate Stone tries to relax as spring blossoms all around her, but war clouds building in the East darken everything.
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 chronicled her turbulent life throughout the Civil War era.
(Photo edited by Bob Rowen)
June began bright and warm. On June 5, 1861, Kate Stone wrote:
A lovely June day, and Mr. and Mrs. Curry with the three youngest children spent the day, their first visit in months. Annie, the baby, is a nice enough little tot, but what a time her mother has over her, washing, dressing, undressing, and fussing over her most of the day. One would never think it was about the eleventh child. I wonder if she worked so over all the others and why she has a nurse.
Late in the afternoon I went with Brother Coley and Ashburn to the blackberry patch, a glorious ride, a fresh breeze, splendid horse, and a sweeping pace, and the two frolicsome boys.
Mamma said the day had tired her out, but the berries refreshed her mind by supper and the merry chatter of the boys. After supper Mr. McRae, the overseer, came up for a long consultation with her. One by one the boys dropped off to bed, and when at last Mr. McRae took himself off and Mr. Newton, Mamma, and I had a most pleasant, non-sensical talking bee, while enjoying the nicest little meringues and custards.
I lost my comb riding. It just suited my heavy hair, and combs are combs these days. So Jimmy, the dear obliging fellow, has promised to go early in the morning and look for it. …
Stone tried to focus on the mundane details of life: sickness, her French lessons, visiting neighbors, and church services, but the war clouds building in the East could not be ignored.
On June 10, she vented her frustration with her life’s leisurely pace, far from the front lines.
When quietly our days are passing, when the whole planet is in such a state of feverish excitement and everywhere there is the stir and mob of angry life. Oh! to see and be in it all. I hate weary days of inaction. Yet what can women do but wait and suffer?
A week later, on June 17, Stone shared a sense of her intellectual curiosity as she explored the experiences of foreign-born visitors, She often yearned for different opinions and perspectives. But she was always sure when someone was wrong.
I had a long talk with Mr. Hornwasher on the subject of war and the battles he has been in. Both he and Mr. Kaiser are Hungarian refugees, political exiles. Mr. Hornwasher is a Count [or] something in his own land. He is now a teacher of music and languages, and his great friend, Mr. Kaiser, is tutor at Mrs. Savage’s. They are highly educated and refined men and are entertaining talkers, notwithstanding their odd pronunciation.
Robert had fever and Mrs. Savage was so unwell that both had to lie down. Dinner passed off most pleasantly, at least to me. I sat between Mr. Kaiser and Mr. Newton and they made themselves very entertaining. Mr. Valentine and Anna sat together and hardly spoke to each other a dozen times. They never hit it off somehow. I must not let them sit next to each other again.
War was the principal topic. Both Mr. Hornwasher and Mr. Kaiser speak of enlisting. I should think that they had had enough of war in their own country. Mr. Valentine treats the whole subject of the war in his usual sarcastic, cynical manner. To him, the whole affair is a grand humbug, the enthusiasm and patriotism of the South something to be mocked and sneered at. He cannot appreciate the earnestness and grandness of this great national upheaval, the throes of a Nation’s birth. I could shake him. …
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.
Observations on the Hudson River as it passes through New York City. The section of the Hudson which passes through New York is historically known as the North River, called this by the Dutch to distinguish it from the Delaware River, which they knew as the South River. This stretch of the Hudson is still often referred to as the North River by local mariners today. All photos copyright Daniel Katzive unless otherwise attributed. For more frequent updates, please follow northriverblog on Facebook or Instagram.
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