Memoir – Page 4 – Stillness of Heart

Kate Stone’s Civil War: The pistol pointed at my head

Relatives and friends dead. Home defense forces utterly impotent. Union soldiers taking what they wanted whenever they wanted it. Union gunboats defiling the Mississippi River. Slaves more a threat than ever before. Her mother came to a single solution.

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 life we are leading now,” Stone wrote dejectedly, “is a miserable, frightened one, living in constant dread of great danger, not knowing what form it may take, and utterly helpless to protect ourselves. …”

Stone’s mother agreed completely. Her cotton crop was destroyed. Damaged levees flooded the region. Life’s daily necessities were impossibly overpriced. New Orleans was gone, and Vicksburg would not hold out forever. Relatives and friends dead. Home defense forces utterly impotent. Union soldiers taking what they wanted whenever they wanted it. Union gunboats defiling the Mississippi River. Slaves more a threat than ever before. Her mother came to a single solution.

At long last, she decided, it was time to lead her family west.

But one more tragedy awaited them, one that would silence Stone’s diary for more than two weeks.

March 22

We have had an exciting time since the last date. Two Yankees came out Friday guided by John Graves and carried off my horse Wonka in spite of all we could do.

Wonka was racing around the yard, glad to be at liberty after being tied out so long, when two most villainous-looking Yankees rode up to the gallery where we three ladies and the two children were standing. They had pistols in their hands and proposed a “swap” but we all refused of course and begged them not to take the horse. Mamma even offered to pay the price for him, but the greatest villain of the two refused bluntly and worked himself into a towering rage while the other, the smooth villain, galloped off to catch the horse. I called to one of the Negroes to open the gate, thinking it would give Wonka a chance to escape, but as they seemed afraid I ran to do it myself. When the wretch called to me impudently to stop, I did not notice him but threw the gate open. He then dashed up with the pistol pointed at my head … and demanded in the most insolent tone how I dared to open a gate when he ordered it shut. I looked at him and ran on to open the other gate. Just then Mamma called to me that they had caught the horse, and as I turned to go in the house the man cursed and said, “I had just as soon kill you as a grasshopper.” I was not frightened but I was furiously angry and would have been glad to have seen him lying dead. And I never saw Mamma so angry. Aunt Laura took it more calmly, and the little girls were frightened. Johnny was sick with fever. In five minutes the man had changed saddles and was riding my prancing, beautiful pet gaily off, leaving in his place a pack of animated bones, covered with sorrel skin. …

I cried the rest of the day and half of the night. We had had the horse tied out in the cane for days, and not ten minutes before the men came, Webster brought him up and said that he would die if he was kept tied up where the mosquitoes could get to him any longer. So I told Webster to turn him in the yard and went out to see, and I never saw him look finer. At that moment the Negroes called from the kitchen that the Yankees were coming, and in a minute they were dashing up to the gallery and in ten minutes more were racing away on my horse.

I think I will never see lilac blooms again without recalling this sad incident. We had all just come in from the garden and had great sprays of the purple flowers in our hands and stuck in the children’s hats, and when the Yankees rode away and the excitement subsided we were still holding the tossing, fragrant plumes. …

The Negroes all behaved very well while the men were here. Most of them hid, and the others did not show the slightest disposition to go with them, though the Yankees asked them to go. They made William help catch the horse by cursing and holding a pistol to his head, and then invited him to go along with them to camp. He refused most positively, and they rode off without doing any further damage. These two returned by way of Mrs. Hardison’s, stopping to have a long talk with her Negroes, and took one of her mules, crossing just below the house. The effect of their talk with Mr. Hardison’s Negroes came out today when six of the men with their children and clothes walked off in broad daylight after a terrible row, using the most abusive language to Mrs. Hardison. Mr. Hardison expected to get home today and move them all to Monroe, but he has waited too long. The other Negroes declare they are free and will leave as soon as they get ready. Mrs. Hardison sent for Johnny and Mr. McPherson early this morning. Johnny went at once but they could do nothing. None of them have even a gun. A Negro has stolen Mr. Hardison’s. But guns are of no use to people in our dilemma. To use one would only be to invite complete destruction from the soldiers.

The river is rising rapidly, and the levee at Lake Providence has been cut. It looks like we are going to be overflowed, a misfortune that we will welcome if it drives the Yankees away. No effort is made to hold the levees; in fact, they spoke of cutting the one at Pecan Grove before the Yankees came up, and it is a pity they did not. A few feet more of water would be a protection as the Yankees would not be able to come out in boats.

This country is in a deplorable state. The outrages of the Yankees and Negroes are enough to frighten one to death. The sword of Damocles in a hundred forms is suspended over us, and there is no escape. The water hems us in. The Negroes on Mrs. Stevens’, Mr. Conley’s, Mr. Catlin’s, and Mr. Evans’ places ran off to camp and returned with squads of soldiers and wagons and moved off every portable thing furniture, provisions, etc., etc. A great many of the Negroes camped at Lake Providence have been armed by the officers, and they are a dreadful menace to the few remaining citizens. The country seems possessed by demons, black and white.

March 24

Storms and rain for two days. There has been almost constant rain since Christmas. The oldest inhabitants say they never saw such persistent rains. It might be the rainy season of the tropics. Some think the cannonading at Vicksburg brings on the rains. It is seldom we hear the cannon that it is not succeeded by showers or a downpour, and often it is difficult to distinguish between the burst of thunder and the roar of the guns.

The firing has been kept up, now fast then slow, for several days until today there is quiet. The sound comes over the water with such distinctness as to rattle the windows, and when the river is low we scarcely hear the guns.

Johnny brought us news Sunday (Sunday does not seem like Sunday nowadays. It’s always the time of the greatest excitement). He said that Mrs. Graves was going Monday to see the Yankee general and would try to get my horse returned. That we know is a hopeless job, but we wrote asking her to report the behavior of the two men, giving the names they gave us and telling of their frequent raids out this way. Mrs. Hardison also wrote asking her to represent to the commanding general that there are only women and children in these homes, and, if he will allow marauding parties to continue to harass us, at least to send an officer in charge. Mrs. Graves says that the pickets are very strict now and that it is hard to get through the lines. The Graves have lost twenty of their Negroes. The letters of protection do them no good. Mrs. Hardison’s servants have behaved worse than anyone’s. They have done everything but strike her and have used very abusive language. The leader is a boy or man, Charles, who ran to the Yankees among the first and soon returned to stay at home. He said he had enough of Yankees.

The life we are leading now is a miserable, frightened one, living in constant dread of great danger, not knowing what form it may take, and utterly helpless to protect ourselves. It is a painful present and a dark future with the wearing anxiety and suspense about our loved ones. We long for news from the outside world, and yet we shudder to think what evil tidings it may bring us. Could we hear that all our soldiers are well, the troubles here at home would seem but light ones.

We beguile the time sewing and reading well-thumbed books, starting at every sound, and in the evening play backgammon or chess. Aunt Laura has just learned backgammon and enjoys playing a game. Little Sister has third-day chills and looks thin and pale. It seems impossible to break them without quinine, and we can get none. Johnny is at last almost well. Beverly’s hair has been cut short and she looks like a pretty little boy and is delighted with her appearance.

So my and My Brother’s old friend, Joe Wicks, is dead. And he died, as a Southern boy should, leading his men in action. He was adjutant of a Tennessee regiment and was killed in a skirmish near Oxford months ago. What a host of pleasant memories his name awakens of the happy Clinton days when I was a little girl of twelve off at school for the first time, with My Brother as protector and comforter, and Joe my first little lover. What a gay, guileless time we all had together, boarding there with his sister, Mrs. Rhodes. …

Kate Stone’s Civil War: It made us tremble

Stone and her family and neighbors felt virtually powerless as Union raiding parties scoured the countryside and slaves quietly slipped 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 offers a vivid account of how the presence of Union forces nearby disrupted daily life, frightened Southern civilians, and inspired the slave population. Sometimes the slaves guided Federal soldiers back to their plantations.

No one seemed sure what would happen to Vicksburg. Nevertheless, attack or no attack, civilians like Stone and her family and neighbors felt virtually powerless as Union raiding parties scoured the countryside and slaves quietly slipped away to find freedom among Northern troops. As family acquaintances applied to the Union authorities for letters of protection, which supposedly protected them from raiders, Stone seemed proud her mother remained among the defiant holdouts not yet “forced to ask a favor of a Yankee.”

Note how Stone’s family found palatable substitutes for coffee.

March 11

When My Brother was at home, he heard a few days before he left that the Yankees had discovered quite a lot of cotton bales hidden by the planters on a ridge in the swamp near Mr. Valentine’s and of course were coming at once to get it. Cotton is so valuable now. So he rode over that dark night all alone with a pocketful of matches, and after fumbling around through the swamp for some time found it. With a good deal of trouble, he set it afire, staying by it until daybreak when he left for fear some of the Negroes would see him and tell the Yankees, who would come and burn us out. He did see two or three Negroes looking at him as he galloped through Mr. Valentine’s place. That morning a long train of wagons came pulling through the mud. All the Yankee teamsters were delighted at the idea of getting Midi a pile of cotton hidden by the Rebs, when, lo and behold, there was nothing but a burning, smouldering pile. The lovely cotton was all gone. We hear they were furious and threatened to burn every house within five miles and hang the men who did it. But they did not know the men, and by the time suspicion pointed at My Brother he was off and away. The affair has blown over, but it made us tremble in our shoes for several days for fear they would come and burn us out.

March 12

So many are getting letters of protection from the general at the Bend. We cannot hear his name. Aunt Laura, formerly so bitter against the Yankees, is now urging Mamma to go in to Omega and get letters protecting us.

The enemy have now been three months before Vicksburg doing nothing against the city, but scourging this part of the country. The opinion now is that they will not attack the place at all. The deserters say the soldiers will not fight at Vicksburg. They say that the place is impregnable, that they will not fight to meet certain defeat, and that there is great dissatisfaction both among the officers and men. They will not pay off the men for fear they will desert. For a time there were frequent desertions. I must think there will be an attempt to storm the city. I cannot think they will make all this preparation and gather this great army without at last making an attempt to capture it.

When the fortifications were commenced, no one dreamed that Vicksburg would hold out this long. If the Yankees had come right on after the fall of New Orleans, Vicksburg would have fallen with hardly a struggle. It was strange that they did not push on at once. Now it seems almost a second Gibraltar.

We hear that Gen. [Braxton] Bragg has resigned on account of the dissatisfaction of most of his officers with his retreat from Murfreesboro. Gen. Joseph Johnston is now in command. It seems a pity for an old soldier like Bragg to have no force under him.

March 15

For the last two days we have been in a quiver of anxiety looking for the Yankees every minute, sitting on the front gallery with our eyes strained in the direction they will come, going to bed late and getting up early so they will not find us asleep. Today as it is raining, they are apt to remain in camp, and so we have a little relief. Friday they were at Mr. Graves’, Mr. McPherson’s, and Mr. Hardison’s. Mr. Graves has a protection letter, and we did not hear how they fared. At Mr. McPherson’s they took two horses and all the chickens, eggs, and butter in sight. They ordered dinner cooked and sat in the dining room and ate it. Only two men came to Mr. Hardison’s, but they were ruffians, tough and impudent. They searched through everything for money or jewelry I suppose but found none and went off cursing and threatening another visit. Sister and I happened to go up on a little call soon after the men left and found everybody as mad as could be and feeling so helpless. Caroline, her favorite servant, and one of the Negro men went off the night before.

Yesterday afternoon Mr. Valentine was here, and we were all conversing quietly enough when the frantic barking of the dogs called us to the front gallery just in time to see a party of Yankees and three Negroes passing on the gin ridge. They turned and took a deliberate survey of the place and then went on. They were loaded with chickens, eggs, and such plunder and were guided by one of Mr. Valentine’s Negroes, who had run off some time ago, and had two more to carry the stuff they had stolen.

So far our Negroes 16 have shown no disposition to leave but may at any minute. They were hidden out for a day or so, but of course that could not be kept up with a Yankee camp as near as Winn Forest. The fields as far as we can see are sheets of green and gold, the weeds are growing unchecked and the yellow-top makes a brave show. …

March 17

Gen. Bragg is said to be in command at Vicksburg. His fame must now fall or stand with the city. Lincoln, it is reported, has been appointed a kind of military dictator with unlimited command of men and money. The Conscript Act has been passed and will be strictly enforced. That, with the abolishment of all state lines (if that be true), must make the war unpopular with the masses of the people. But the acts of Congress show that the rulers, at least, are not tired of the strife, and peace, blessed peace, seems farther off than ever. …

The plums and sassafras are in full bloom and the whole yard is fragrant. We all drank sassafras tea for awhile but soon got tired of it, pretty and pink as it is. Okra coffee is now the favorite drink. Mamma had several bushels of the seed saved. After experimenting with parched potatoes, parched pindars, burned meal, roasted acorns, all our coffee drinkers decided on okra seed as the best substitute. We have grown quite expert making shoes for ourselves. We cut up an old pair of gaiters and slippers for a pattern. We make the uppers of broadcloth, velvet, or any strong black goods we can get, and the shoemaker for the Negroes puts on the soles. They are not to say elegant looking but we are delighted to be able to make them, and they are far better than bare feet.

March 20

We have wakened three mornings to the booming of cannon and have gone to sleep to the same music, but we have not heard what they are doing. Sometimes we hear the beating of drums, supposedly at Omega. We are too near “the pomp and circumstance of glorious war” to find it pleasant. No Yankees in this section since Saturday. Perhaps the troops have been concentrated at Vicksburg. The Yankees who passed through the place discussed stopping to raid the house, but the captain with them said, as there were only ladies and children here, they would let us alone. We did not know a Yankee could have so much chivalry. Hope it will develop in the other raiding bands.

The two Mrs. Richardsons and Mrs. Spain went out to camp to get letters of protection. The general gave a letter to Mrs. Spain, as she was a widow, but refused letters to the others unless their husbands or brothers would come out and take the oath. Mr. A. Richardson started the next day to swear allegiance but was dissuaded by a friend. Miss W. Richardson went to the boat with her mother and came back boasting that she had caught a Yankee beau. Imagine any girl falling so low. No other girl in the country would acknowledge having even a Yankee acquaintance. Mrs. Graves’ papers did not prove a perfect safeguard as a squad took all their good horses.

Mamma, Mr. Hardison, Mr. Valentine, and Mr. Jeffries seem to be the only people left in the country who have not applied for protection. We hope we shall never be so pressed as to be forced to ask a favor of a Yankee.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Hoodoo woman

Perhaps Stone, fighting what she saw as her part of the war, decided that she would never surrender her ground to the dark, silent, sinister enemy. But it took another enemy, one she’d feared longer than any Yankee, to change her mind.

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.

On March 2, Kate Stone opened her journal and wrote in it for the first time since late January. She was disoriented. She didn’t know exactly what day of the week it was. She guessed it was Saturday. When Federal troops flooded the neighborhood in late January, Stone’s mother prepared to evacuate the family. But she changed her mind when she learned the roads west were already impossibly clogged with frightened refugees. When Stone learned they were not leaving Brokenburn after all, she was secretly relieved.

Whatever misery she endured, whatever property she lost, whatever horrors she witnessed, Stone seemed determined to stand her ground. Perhaps Brokenburn was her own line in the sand. Perhaps she had already seen too many retreats, too many defeats, too many surrenders. Perhaps Stone, fighting what she saw as her part of the war, decided that she would never surrender her ground to the dark, silent, sinister enemy. But it took another enemy, one she’d feared longer than any Yankee, to change her mind.

March 2

Saturday [Monday] I think. We have not had an almanac for more than a year, and so I can only guess at the time until someone better posted comes along. The Yankees have not visited us yet, and so after more than a month’s concealment I take my book out to write again.

The soldiers have been all around us but not on the place. At first we were frightened, expecting them all the time and preparing to start for the hills beyond the Macon, the Mecca for most of the refugeeing planters. Mamma had all the carpets taken up and the valuable clothes and everything but the furniture sent away or ready to send when My Brother came back from Delhi, where he left the Negroes until they could be shipped on the train. Such a crowd was there [that] it will be several days before they can get off.

He gave such a disheartening account of the roads — they are impassable for anything but a six-mule team — that he and Mamma concluded it was impossible to move at this time, and we would await further developments here. Mamma has had the house put in order, and we are again comfortable. I am so glad for I dreaded going into the back country, where we would never see or hear anything among total strangers, and to leave our pleasant home most probably to be destroyed by the Yankees, and we may be able to protect it if we are here.

Brother has been gone for more than a month. He has taken the Negro men to the salt works away beyond Monroe and put them to work. Jimmy returned from there two weeks ago, and Mamma sent out the overseer, Mr. Ellsworth. We have been looking for My Brother for ten days.

Mamma thought of sending Jimmy back to Virginia with My Brother to go to school at Lexington, but now that the conscription is being so rigidly enforced she thinks both Mr. Storey and Mr. Ellison may both be enrolled. She will have no one but Jimmy to depend on, and so she will keep him at home. I am begging her to send Johnny. One of the worst features of the war is that it deprives all the boys of an education. …

Jane, Aunt Laura’s cook, and Aunt Lucy had a terrible row Tuesday night. Jane cut a great gash in Lucy’s face with a blow from a chair and hurt her severely. Mamma had Jane called up to interview her on the subject, and she came with a big carving knife in her hand and fire in her eyes. She scared me. She is nearly six feet tall and powerful in proportion, as black as night and with a fearful temper. … Aunt Laura had a long, lingering illness lasting several months, and she always thought Jane kept her poisoned. Jane showed a very surly, aggressive temper while Mamma was talking to her, and so Mamma did not say much. Jane went to her room and that night took her two children, a girl and a boy about half-grown, and in company with one of Mr. Hardison’s men started for the camp at DeSoto. I think we are all glad she has gone. We felt her a constant menace. She must have had a bad trip. They were out in that blinding rain Wednesday and Wednesday night with only two blankets as protection and not much to eat. Mr. Graves saw them yesterday sitting on the levee at Mr. Utz’s in company with fifty others, waiting to be ferried across at the break there in a dugout. All the Negroes are running away now, and there are numbers of them. They have to stop at the break and wait to be ferried over by an old Negro in a dugout, and so there are crowds waiting all the time. Col. Graves went down there yesterday to try to reclaim three of his who had escaped. Three had just been drowned, trying to get over, and he thought from the description they were his.

Poor creatures, I am sorry for them. How horrible it all is. We had a scene of terror the night Jane left: The quarreling and screaming, the blood streaming down Lucy’s face, Jane’s fiery looks and speeches, Johnny and Uncle Bob’s pursuit of her as she rushed away, the discovery that the children were gone, and then just as we had all quieted down, the cry of fire. The loom room had caught from some hot ashes, but we at once thought Jane was wreaking vengeance on us all by trying to burn us out. We would not have been surprised to have her slip up and stick any of us in the back. Johnny was our only protector as Jimmy was away. I went around bravely in appearance with a five-shooter in my hand. Found out afterwards it was only dangerous to look at as it was not loaded.

Mamma spoke of sending next day for Jane, but Aunt Laura implored her not to. She was only too thankful to get rid of her. She had been a terror to her for years. I think everybody on the place was thankful to get rid of her. The Negroes dreaded her as much as the white folks. They thought her a hoodoo woman.

The place looks deserted now with its empty cabins and neglected fields, and the scene is the same wherever we go. … It has been a month of warm weather and constant rain and the roads are impassable. We have not been out of the house for three weeks. Already the fruit trees are a faint green and the grass is springing in the yard. Spring is early this year. Over the woods in front of the house hangs a faint green mist with the red of the maples shining through, and this morning Sister brought in a bunch of pale wild violets, sweet as a promise that winter is gone. The hardy garden violets and the quaint little heartsease have been perfuming the winter wind for weeks, and the garden is gay with jonquils and narcissus.

March 3

Last night it was reported that the Yankees were at Dr. Devine’s, and we looked for them here today. My Brother and Mr. Hardison, who is conscript agent, went out early this morning to stay in the woods until nightfall, as they do not want to be captured and ornament a Yankee prison. …

Johnny who has been out scouting reports the Yankees at Rescue, the adjoining place, yesterday hunting horses and Negroes, and today they are scattered all through the lower neighborhood on the same quest. This band is said to be Kansas Jayhawkers, the very offscourings of the Northern Army. They say they will take by force all Negroes, whether they wish to go or not. A great number of Negroes have gone to the Yankees from this section. Mr. Watson and his father-in-law, Mr. Scott … got up one morning and found every Negro gone, about seventy-five, only three little girls left. The ladies actually had to get up and get breakfast. They said it was funny to see their first attempt at milking. Mr. Matt Johnson has lost every Negro off one place and a number from the other places. Keene Richards has lost 160 from Transylvania and fifty of them are reported dead. The Negroes at work on the canal have what they call black measles, and it is very fatal to them.

March 4

When we heard from Brother Coley and Dr. Buckner nearly a month ago — they had furloughs and had reached Vicksburg on their way home when they heard that Gen. Van Dorn was to make a great cavalry raid into Kentucky. They at once turned back and rejoined their commands. Brother Coley wrote that he could not possibly miss such a chance for a good fight. Well, they could not come here with the slightest safety, now that there are wandering parties of soldiers all through the swamp. The Yankees are very daring, swimming the bayous, plunging through the mud of the unbroken swamp, often only two or three of them together. One company of good men could put a stop to all of this, but all our men are across the Macon with no desire to come this way. We hear they are panic-stricken at the name of a Yankee and run the other way. It is well that the honor of Louisiana does not depend on the troops on this side of the river.

We get no Southern papers but occasionally a Northern paper from the people who are still on the river. They are all said to have taken the oath and to have letters of protection from the general commanding. Dr. Taylor, Mr. Harris, Mr. Rucker, and Mrs. Nutt are some of the suspected parties. Gen. Grant is said to have been very rude to Mrs. Nutt when she applied for protection. What else could she have expected from a Yankee general? There are some troops still at Lake Providence. We cannot hear whether they are still working on their grand canal or not. We suppose they will harass this section until the river falls and they again attack Vicksburg.

March 5

Mr. Valentine came over last evening in very low spirits indeed. He says his Negroes will not even pretend to work and are very impudent, and he thinks they will all go off in a body the next time the Yankees come on his place. He brought the welcome news of the departure of that body of Jayhawkers that was on Mrs. Evans’ place. They have completely ruined Mr. Catlin’s, Mrs. Evans’, and Mrs. Stevens’ places, taking all the Negroes and all kinds of stock. The Negro women marched off in their mistresses’ dresses.

Jimmy has been for some time with the Negroes at the salt works. We are in a helpless situation, three ladies and two little girls and not a white man or even a gun on the place, not even a boy until Johnny gets back. And the scouts may take him. We can find rest only in the thought that we are in God’s hands.

March 8

There are only twenty Negroes left on Mrs. Tibbetts’ five places, and Dr. Tibbetts has only one left, a superannuated woman helpless to do anything. The ladies are cooking, washing, etc., while Hiram Tibbetts is wood chopper.

The Yankees have five thousand Negroes camped at Lake Providence, all they have taken from the places up the river. They had an army of 30,000 men camped there, but they find the canal through to the Macon not feasible. They have moved up to Ashton to try a new canal there, if they can close the break at that point.

March 9

Aunt Lucy’s little girl Linda died this morning from the effect of the measles. It is the first child she ever lost and she is much distressed. Little Dora is also very ill from the same cause. …

We have heard a good many guns today and a boat whistle at Omega. Must be landing troops there. There must be a large force at the Bend now, as they have been moving men up for some days. Young’s Point and DeSoto are said to be under water, and they are forced to leave. Mr. Joe Noland’s is to be headquarters we hear. We hear that Mr. Hans Harris is having trouble with the Yankees, notwithstanding his protection papers, and that it is not necessary to take the oath to be protected, and so I retract what I said about the traitors on the river. Am glad it was false except Dr. Taylor of Willow Bayou. We truly believe him to be false to the South. His wife has gone North with her children. She is from there and must have contaminated her husband. Mr. Montague’s last two sons, in company with two friends, have gone over to the Yankees. Now Mr. Montague has all five of his sons in the North. It is strange that he could raise five sons in the South to love the North better than their own native land. Let us hope he is satisfied with them, as no one else is. All have a hearty contempt for them. What a disgrace to belong to that family.

The fruit trees are in full bloom now and our young orchard makes quite a show. … Quite a variety of vegetables are up and growing nicely.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Preparing to run

Stone’s new year of happiness ended abruptly, and as Union troops closed in on Brokenburn, her diary fell silent. She did not write again until March 1863.

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 new year of happiness — her brother home to recover from minor wounds, a stream of good news from the battlefields — ended abruptly, and as Union troops closed in on Brokenburn, her diary fell silent.

She did not write again until March 1863.

Jan. 1, 1863

My dear Brother came home this morning and in perfect health. How overjoyed we are to have him with us, but oh the disappointment that he is still only a captain. It seems he and the other gentlemen mentioned at the same time were recommended by the officers of their regiment for the field offices and a petition sent up for their promotion, but by the rules of war promotion could not go that way. The senior officers must go up first, and so Tom Manlove is lieutenant colonel and the senior captain, major. Tom Manlove headed a petition signed by all the officers of the regiment asking that My Brother be made colonel, but My Brother would not let it be sent up. I am awfully sorry. I fear now he will never be promoted. He has no ambition and a low opinion of his capabilities. It is foolish for me to feel so bad about it when I should be perfectly happy that he has escaped the myriad dangers and is with us again. He was mentioned for gallant conduct in Gen. Featherston’s report of the battles before Richmond. He was highly complimented on the field of battle at Sharpsburg by Gen. D. H. Hill and again in his official report.

Dear fellow, if anybody deserves promotion he does. He may get the colonelcy of his old batallion, now the 48th Miss. Regt. He was slightly wounded in the foot at the Battle of Fredericksburg, and that is why he was allowed to come home. He is looking well and cheerful. A piece of shell made a slight scar on his face but his whiskers conceal it. To me his coming was no surprise. I have been looking for him for two months, but the others were not so confident. He came by way of Mrs. Amis, and she sent him on by horseback.

Uncle Bo, he reports, is in the finest health and spirits, and our other soldiers are still at Grenada and well.

He brings encouraging news of successes. We have repulsed the enemy twice between the Yazoo and Vicksburg. Gen. Van Dorn has retaken Holly Springs and is threatening Memphis. Our victory at Fredericksburg was complete but barren of result, only it has depressed and surprised the North. Altogether we are getting the better of our foes.

Most of the family are troubled with inflamed eyes and mine are paining me so, from long writing I suppose. This has truly been a Happy New Year to us all, white and black.

Jan. 22

Sunday. After three weeks of silence let me think of what has happened. The Yankees, after an absence of more than a week employed in taking Arkansas Post, have returned in large force, have invested Vicksburg, and are cutting another ditch across the point above DeSoto, or it may be deepening the first ditch. My Brother, Mr. Hardison, Dr. Waddell, and several other Louisiana gentlemen were in Vicksburg when the boats came in sight, and they had great trouble regaining their horses, just missing several encounters with scouting bands.

My Brother started off this morning with the best and strongest of the Negroes to look for a place west of the Ouachita. Only the old and sickly with the house servants are left here. He is sure we will all be forced to leave this place as the enemy intend going into camp at the Bend, and in the event of their defeat at Vicksburg which is certain, will lay this whole country waste, sending out bands of Negroes and soldiers to burn and destroy. My Brother thinks we had better leave at once, and we will commence packing tomorrow. The Negroes did so hate to go and so do we.

We have retaken Galveston under Gen. Magruder, and the Alabama and Florida are spreading death and destruction on the seas. We have fought another … battle at Murfreesboro, and the enemy have evacuated Island No. 10. Three days fighting at Vicksburg, and the enemy badly whipped.

Heard from the boys by Joe’s servant, who is home on a visit. All well. Their regiment is now under Van Dorn.

Jan. 26

Preparing to run from the Yankees, I commit my book to the bottom of a packing box with only a slight chance of seeing it again.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: She was heartbroken

Stone’s 1862 ended amid cannon fire, her brother Johnny taken prisoner, and some terrible news that turned out to be not so terrible.

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 offered throughout December 1862 a fascinating, detailed account of indoor life at Brokenburn, filled with sewing assignments, wedding preparations, boring visitors, and concern for the men at the front. Note her frustration over the loss of contact with her now-married friend, also named Kate. Some sentiments are timeless.

Stone’s 1862 ended amid cannon fire, her brother Johnny taken prisoner, and some terrible news that turned out to be not so terrible.

Dec. 3

Have been busy for two days writing letters and notes. A letter of six pages to Uncle Bo giving general home news. … One to Mrs. Johnstone reproaching her for not letting Cousin Jenny send me one of her dresses to make into an over-shirt for Mr. Valentine. Also, notes and letters to the four quarters of the globe. All are to be sent by Jessy, who runs the blockade to Vicksburg tomorrow to get the new carriage springs and a $40 gallon of brandy, an awful price, but Jimmy must have it. He is improving slowly, slowly. He is not yet able to sit up and sleeps no better. He has not slept now for forty-eight hours and is very restless. …

Cousin Jenny gets married tomorrow in the church at Canton to a Dr. Saunders of that place. She wrote to Aunt Laura saying she wished to be married at her home, but when the letter came Aunt Laura had broken up housekeeping and was here with us. A day or two after the letter, Cousin Jenny and Mrs. Johnstone came driving up in Capt. Johnstone’s ambulance. It was when Jimmy was at his worst, and they only stayed all night. Mamma begged Cousin Jenny to come here to be married, and Aunt Laura wished her to do it. But she decided to stay in Canton. She wanted me to be bridesmaid, but under the circumstances it was impossible. I could not leave Jimmy, and there are too many Yankees between here and Canton to make it safe to leave home.

Neither her father nor sister will be present. They are both away. It is decidedly Cousin Jenny’s own wedding. She has selected her trousseau and made all arrangements for herself. It seems strange in her since she has always been of such a timid, yielding nature. We have all taken up a prejudice against Dr. Saunders and think she is doing a bad thing for herself. Our judgment, made without seeing the man, is based on his weak, sentimental-looking picture and the lackadaisical letter he wrote Aunt Laura asking her consent to the marriage. Poor dear girl. May she be happier than we all think she will be.

Mr. Valentine was over a few days ago. We are friends again, and I have knitted gloves for him and am embroidering a tobacco bag at Mamma’s earnest solicitation. He does not chew or smoke, and so he can only use it as a trophy. He aroused Mamma’s sympathy by complaining of the way the girls have all treated him. They have not given him a thing. He begged me so hard to make something for him that I relented and am now on a high hunt for something suitable to make a fancy over-shirt. Cousin Jenny promised me a dress, but Mrs. Johnstone so represented to her that Mr. Valentine was very wealthy and could get what he needed that Cousin Jenny kept the dress. And I have not a thing that will do.

We have cut up every silk and wool thing we have for the different boys. I wrote a note of reproach to Mrs. Johnstone and begged her to [sacrifice] one of her dresses for a poor shirtless Confederate. She promises to do the best she can and give me the first dress she wears out. That will not be until the end of the war. No one’s dresses are ever considered worn out these days as long as they can hold together. …

Dec. 12

Tuesday Sister and I went to Mrs. Hardison’s to see Julia and Carrie Lowry. They were hard at work on soldier’s clothes. They have twenty-four jackets to make, a trying job. I came home feeling ashamed of myself for having done so little and begged Mamma to send to the camp for some of the clothes to make. Mamma refused, saying that we have enough to do already, and really we have. Sister has been sick for several days with severe sore throat, and Jimmy improves hardly at all. He is still in bed and tonight has fever.

We thought maybe Mrs. Curry would do some sewing for the soldiers, and so I went over to see her. Lou and Mary would each undertake a suit and Miss Jefferies, who was there, would also make one, and we thought the Miss Richardsons maybe would do some sewing. I came back well pleased and sent Webster to camp for seven suits. He soon came back with only two suits and a jacket. All the other sewing had been given out so that was a job well off hand.

Mamma and I are busy making my grey silk. Mamma bought it in Vicksburg the last time she was down, and it cost a pretty penny.

Mamma has turned off Mr. Blakely. He would not do at all, and she has engaged a Mr. Ellison who comes tomorrow. Hope he will prove a good overseer. One is hard to get. Mamma has rented a place on Joe’s Bayou above overflow from a Mr. Storey. Can send the Negroes there if the Yankees come again. …

Dec. 16

No news from My Brother for weeks. Do not know his address even. Uncle Bo is still at Fredericksburg and the boys at Grenada [Miss.], and are well. We get neither papers nor letters these days. Not a word from Kate Nailor since her marriage months ago. Why does marrying change one so? Why is it impossible to care for your friends if you have a new husband or wife? I should not think one lone man could take the place of all the loved ones of a lifetime. But I suppose a man’s the reason. …

Dec. 29

Well, the most exciting Christmas of our lives has come and gone, and the excitement still continues as the bombardment on the river is incessant. This evening for several hours it seemed to be heavy guns at Omega.

Two days before Christmas we all rode over to the camp, Johnny and I on horseback and the others in the carriage, to see Capt. Benton’s artillery drill. Capt. Harper and Mr. Valentine came to talk to us and to say, as orders were very strict, they would be unable to leave camp Christmas Day but would like to come to see us Christmas Eve. Of course, we would be glad to have them, and after a pleasant little chat with the soldiers gathered around gazing at us we started home. Johnny and I gathered a lot of mistletoe and crimson casino berries, and we decorated the parlor and hall prettily next day, getting through just as Mary Gustine drove up.

We sent some clothes out to camp and decided to write Capt. Harper to bring any of his friends. Soon after dark he, Capt. Martin from Monroe, Capt. Benton, Lt. Nolley, and Lt. Valentine came in. We gave them a first-class eggnog and intended giving them another after supper, but they went out and before we knew it took some of the brandy straight. Since brandy is $60 a gallon and far from plentiful, we would not let them have any more in eggnog or anything else. They had had plenty. We had a fine supper and all enjoyed the evening.

Next morning, Christine, Mary, and I were amusing ourselves at the piano when old Mr. Valentine came in and after some delay gave us to understand it was My Brother who was killed at Fredericksburg and not another Lt. Stone as we thought. Mamma was at once in despair and gave way to the wildest grief. We sent a messenger at once for Mr. Valentine’s paper, another to the nearest telegraph office, and Johnny got ready at once and started for Vicksburg to get full particulars. Mamma could not listen to reason. She was sure he was dead, and she was heartbroken. As soon as possible the man came with the paper, and reading it over we saw at once Mr. Valentine was mistaken. It was not our boy who had fallen but someone else’s darling with a similar name. The relief was very great but the mischief was done. Our Christmas was ruined, and Johnny was on his way to Vicksburg. Mr. Valentine was very contrite and so sorry for his great mistake.

We did not know until three days later that Johnny had been taken and was a prisoner on the gunboats. Mr. Valentine brought us the news of the arrival of a large Yankee fleet at Omega and the landing of the men. When the officers reached camp Christmas night, the enemy were landing in large force. They at once went on picket duty and the next morning were ordered to break camp and fall back on Tensas or to Delhi. We have heard nothing of them since. A force of 5,000 Yankees marched to Delhi or Dallas, burned some government stores and the bridges, tore up the railroad track, and upon returning embarked for Vicksburg. We expected the Yankees on the place for three days, and the overseer carried most of the Negroes back to the Joe’s Bayou place. But as they did not come, the Negroes were brought back in a pouring rain disgusted with their Christmas outing.

The houses were burned on Buckhorn, except the dwelling. All the mules and horses they could find were taken and some Negroes, and they made prisoners of all the men, the private citizens that came in their way. But they did better than on their previous raids as they did not pillage the houses.

They made a prisoner of Johnny as he was crossing the bridge at Sirs. Scott’s and kept him on the gunboat three days. They questioned Johnny, trying to find out what he knew of the troops, guns, government stores, etc., in the country, but he refused to tell them anything. Then the officers tried to frighten him. Col. Wright took him off privately and told him the men were anxious to hang him. If he would tell Col. Wright all he knew about the soldiers, he would be saved from the fury of the soldiers. Col. Wright said that they had hanged men at several points coming down the river for not talking, but as Johnny was a boy he wanted to save him. His threats had no effect on Johnny. He said that he knew the Colonel was telling a story and that they were not going to hang him.

He became quite a favorite with the soldiers. They called him Bub and amused themselves arguing with him. Some of them encouraged him with “That’s right, Bub. Stand up for your principles.” How much more of a man he proved himself than Duncan Gustine, nearly grown, who was frightened into piloting them through the country, and everybody has been abusing him for cowardice ever since. The Yankees released the prisoners taken after two or three days.

I am so afraid they will get my horse Wonka. I wish we had sent him to the Bayou. Webster has him in charge, hidden in the canebrake. Mary and Ella Gustine have gone home, and I am used up with sore throat and inflamed eyes.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: A lady’s favors

Two excerpts from Stone’s November 1862 diary illustrate her views on love, flirtation, and relationships, each vibrant and beautiful even in the shadow of a growing war.

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.

Two excerpts from Stone’s November 1862 diary illustrate her views on love, flirtation, and relationships, each vibrant and beautiful even in the shadow of a growing war.

Nov. 7, 1862

How quickly this week has slipped away. Company and busy hands make the time fly. Anna came out in the middle of the week, sent the little girls and remained until Mrs. Savage came, spent the day and carried her home. After they left, Johnny and I were sitting cosily by the parlor fire. I had been practicing and he was knitting on a glove when in came Mary Richards and Mollie Hunt, an old schoolmate. I was so surprised I hardly knew her at first, but the sound of her voice recalled old school times.

Mollie and her father are on their way from Arkansas to Vicksburg. They had supper at Mrs. Curry’s and came out to get me to spend the night with Mollie. Mamma approved of the plan, and I was glad of a chance for a good chat with Mollie. I went back with them and had a pleasant visit in spite of that hateful Mr. Smith. “Don’t be bashful, Kate. Do play. I ain’t a going to court ye” was one of his trying speeches, with a grin and a leer that made me really wish him dumb. What a true Yankee he is in everything, even the set of his coat.

Mollie gave me a full and particular account of her various love affairs, about like the play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out. She would not tell me the names of any of her lovers. She must have had scores. She says she has four on hand now, all waiting in trembling apprehension of yes or no. She thinks she will say no to all. What a garment of comfort self-satisfaction is. Oh, for a nice large cloak of self-appreciation. …

Galveston has fallen, a disgrace to us for fortifying it so badly. The enemy are redoubling their exertions at every point and are awaiting a rise in the river to make an overwhelming attack on Vicksburg. In God alone is our trust.

Nov. 10

Mamma went to Vicksburg today, and I am left at home as commander-in-chief with Little Sister and the two boys, Johnny and Jimmy, as aides. We are getting on bravely today, pickle making, weaving, etc., etc. I think I should like keeping house if I were forty years old and had no one to interfere, but now it is horrid work, vanity and vexation of spirits. …

Ah, the lovely autumn weather. One should be out in it riding or walking most of the day. …

Mamma and I went out to Mrs. Henderson’s Saturday morning to see Mrs. Gustine, who is staying there now. She has been very ill and is still unable to be up. Mary and I had a gay talk discussing Col. Pargoud. We have all our traps set and baited should he venture out here again. We made an agreement so that no feeling of jealousy should mar our friendship. Should I trap the irresistible Colonel, she is to be invited to spend a month at his “palace.” Should she be the successful trapper, I am to have a standing invitation to “his marble halls.” Poor Colonel. His cheeks must burn the way the girls are discussing his fancied perfections, for not a girl of us has ever seen him. He is our standing joke.

We also agreed on Mr. Valentine’s cool assurance in sending word to all the girls he knows to knit him everything they can think of. He wants a complete outfit from each one. He did have the grace to ask Mary to make the things, and she has started on the article the easiest to make, a needle book. But if he does not soon repeat his call, Mary will donate that to some more deserving youth. None of us will do anything for him just now. He needs a little judicious snubbing. He holds a lady’s favors too lightly. In the early days I used to think he would make quite an ideal lover, but no indeed, not now that I know him better. He would run me crazy and ruin my temper in a week. He is very argumentative and I feel like contradicting him always. We do not think alike on any subject. Neither Anna nor Julia like him at all, and Mary knows him only slightly.

Mr. McRae was nursing Ashburn on his death bed a year ago tonight, and now he too is sinking into the cold arms of Death. In the presence of Death, we feel at its fullest God’s terrible power. …

Kate Stone’s Civil War: His sins against the South

Stone began October 1862 with seething bitterness.

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 began October 1862 with seething bitterness. Lee’s invasion of Maryland failed to rouse Southern sentiment, and his fruitless face-off with Federal forces under George McClellan produced one of the bloodiest days in U.S. history. It also inspired President Abraham Lincoln to issue his preliminary Emancipation Proclamation (Lincoln had been advised to unveil it only after a Union victory, though Antietam was closer to a horrific non-defeat).

The demands of a wartime economy quickly stripped the rudimentary Southern economic infrastructure of textiles, and Stone’s journal reflected her growing concerns over the lack of proper clothes, though her concerns should be kept in perspective. She was part of the South’s upper class and probably more sensitive to the lack of luxurious items than regular farmers or Southern citydwellers, particularly when she found herself having to sew fundamental garments for herself and her family, as opposed to casually knitting a fanciful scarf or plaiting a hat for a handsome beau. Nevertheless, her fretting and complaining offers an interesting and at least well-written perspective on the fundamental social and economic changes felt on the Southern home front. The intensity of those changes would quickly intensify in the coming months.

Oct. 1, 1862

The most important fact is Lincoln’s proclamation freeing all slaves held by rebel masters after January 1. I wonder what will be the result of this diabolical move. Surely not as bad for us as they intend it to be. I think there is little chance of a happy hereafter for President Lincoln. A thousand years of repentance would be but brief time to wipe out his sins against the South. How can he ever sleep with the shades of the thousands he has consigned to a bloody death darkening his soul?

Oct. 2

We see … that Lt. Floyd was killed at Sharpsburg. My Brother, I know, is sorry. I saw him last spring in Vicksburg. My good wishes for his safe return were fruitless. He was desperately wounded in the battles before Richmond, but recovered only in time to march to meet his death in Maryland. In Kentucky some hearts are aching for him. He was a frank, pleasant comrade and friend.

There is great disappointment over Maryland. It was thought there would be a great uprising of the people as soon as the Stars and Bars should wave across the Potomac, but nothing of the kind. There has been but little enthusiasm and few recruits. Well, let the Old Bay State go, if her people had rather be slaves in the Union than masters in the Confederacy. They must abide by their choice.

The gunboats are expected down now any day to renew the attack on Vicksburg, but if we get Cincinnati and Louisville as we are threatening to do now, the gunboats will be needed in other waters. …

Oct. 3

My fingers have been busy with unaccustomed work today, the work of olden times, learning to weave. Mamma is having a loom made to weave cloth for the Negroes, and Jimmy and I are to make the “harness.” Mr. Curry came over early this morning on purpose to teach us. He said he knew I could soon learn it. To keep my reputation for aptness, I commenced work at once under his tutelage, and as it takes two to work it Jimmy learned also. Now we progress swimmingly, though it will take several days to finish it. It is like going back to the days of the Revolution to see the planters all setting up their looms and the ladies discussing the making of homespun dresses, the best dyes, and “cuts” of thread, though yet awhile I think a homespun dress would be more difficult to get than a silk. …

We expect to suffer for clothes this winter. … Unless we capture some Northern city well stocked, there will soon be no dry goods in the Confederacy. The ladies are raising a cry for calicoes and silks that echoes from the Potomac to the Gulf. …

Oct. 6

We were out to see Mrs. Carson and Mrs. Savage. They are expecting the Yankees all the time. Mrs. Carson feels that they are being imposed on by soldiers and travelers. She says they are nearly eaten out of house and home, and she gave us her bill of fare. It certainly is a great falling off from the past abundance. There are always five or six soldiers there. She still has flour for lightbread, but it is saved for the sick soldiers. They are exceedingly kind and helpful to all wearing the uniform.

Mrs. Carson is going into raptures over Col. Pargoud. He has large plantations near Monroe, is young and splendid looking, was educated in France, has elegant manners, and is a Colonel in full cavalry uniform, the finest to be had ivory stirrups, silver trappings, and superb horses. What more could one have? May it be given to me to meet this paragon before some other girl snatches him up. Capt. Harper’s company is in his regiment.

We saw the paper of the fourth. It advocates raising the Black Flag in retaliation for Lincoln’s emancipation proclamation. Such a war is too horrible to think of.

Oct. 10

A letter from Uncle Bo dated a month back just as his division was crossing into Maryland. He writes jubilantly, so glad to be advancing into the enemy’s country. The letter is filled with praise of My Brother. … How dreadfully disappointed the army and officials are that Maryland did not rally to their support when once they were on her soil.

Now after all those bloody battles with no good result to follow, our whole army has recrossed the Potomac. Our defeat at Corinth is rumored. We are anxious for full particulars. Reinforcements from Vicksburg have been sent on. …

Oct. 24

Mamma and I went down to Vicksburg ten days ago with Brother Walter to see him that far on his way to the war. We hoped also to see Brother Coley, having heard his regiment had been ordered to Vicksburg, but we were disappointed. The regiment marched through the county to Panola County. We do not know their destination. …

Mrs. Amis’ place is the frontier now, with no one between her and DeSoto. The entire country from Omega to Vicksburg is deserted and many of the back places also. There is a constant stream of men passing, and Mrs. Amis is dreadfully worried by men begging to stay all night and for meals. It is a charming place to visit. Annie has changed less in growing up than any girl I ever saw. She is the same girl she was ten years ago, only grown up and not the least affected, and as a child she was a bundle of it. She was at school in Philadelphia for several years and last in New Orleans for a few months. She plays beautifully on the piano, with such ease I can listen by the hour. She plays on the harp, speaks French well, knows some Latin and Spanish, and is fond of reading, though there was little reading she would allow either of us while together. And they have a good library which was very tempting. She is a pronounced blonde. We were both glad to be together again as we were when little children, after our long separation at different schools.

Oct. 29

Saturday was a day of general upheaval having the carpets put down and general renovating. A cold raw day. When in the height of the discomfort, Mrs. Payne, Julia, and Miss Carrie Lowry were announced. … Carrie is a very talkative, nice girl with only one good feature in her face, splendid grey eyes. She escapes being ugly. She has pretty teeth and glossy black hair but a most unbecoming mouth and nose. Am sure we would like her much on closer acquaintance. She is a most industrious, capable girl.

Jimmy went to Mississippi today to get leather to make shoes for the Negroes. Should he fail to get it, the Negroes will certainly suffer in the cold. Mamma has discharged Mr. McRae, and a Mr. Blakely is overseeing. Mr. McRae proved to be utterly destitute of principle. The Negroes are busy housing the potatoes and goober peas [peanuts] and priming the sugar cane. We shall have some cane should My Brother come now. …

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Tragedy after tragedy

It’s interesting to trace Stone’s mention of certain now-historic events like Antietam, comparing when she records them to when the events actually took place.

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.

Exchanged Confederate prisoners of war ready to fight again. A young recruit worried the war will be over before he can see combat. A barrel of flour priced at $50. These were some of the defining features of Stone’s wartime reality. The 1862 summer was washed away in a chilling, rainy introduction to fall, turning the roads into mud and darkening Stone’s mood. News of the Battle of Antietam, or Sharpsburg, in Maryland reached Brokenburn two weeks later, bringing relieving news that Stone’s brother had been only slightly wounded.

It’s interesting to trace Stone’s mention of certain now-historic events like Antietam, comparing when she records them to when the events actually took place. As the war moved into Louisiana — down from Memphis and up from New Orleans — news took longer and longer to reach Brokenburn. Access to magazines, fresh books, and newspapers was disrupted and then severed. Letters took longer to reach Stone’s family. Wild rumors from every direction swept across Stone’s imagination, testing her belief in the Cause and forming a bedrock of self-reliance that she would desperately need in the coming years.

Sept. 23, 1862

Three weeks of silence spent mostly in Vicksburg, a dull profitless visit. Nothing going on there and I was glad to get home as quiet as it now is and will be, I suppose, until the close of the war. So many friends are gone, but judging from our many recent victories the close may be near. We will conquer a peace.

The victories of Manassas and Richmond, Ky., were both won on the same day. Harper’s Ferry, Frederick [Md.], Kanawha Valley, and luka [Miss.], and various small successes, all within thirty days, make us very hopeful. … Most of our acquaintances are still out of town, and though the streets were crowded with soldiers I knew none of them. The old familiar faces are away fighting in Virginia and Tennessee and strangers are defending their city.

Our exchanged prisoners to the number of 1,500 arrived while I was there, and the place was crowded with them. There were no adequate preparations to provide for them, and many of them had to beg the citizens for something to eat. So happy as they all looked, as merry and free as uncaged birds, and all eager to begin the fight again. The ladies of Memphis gave them a heartfelt and enthusiastic welcome, kisses as plentiful as blackberries, but there was nothing of that kind in Vicksburg. Met a Lt. Polk of Tennessee, who gave an interesting and anecdotal account of his imprisonment. …

Sept. 24

The first of the fall rains. How I dread this winter. I shudder in anticipation: The long rains, the impassable roads, no books, no papers, few letters, our friends nearly all away, and most of our loved ones in the army. Awful prospect. But thinking of it will make it no better. …

Brother Walter goes on Monday to join Dr. Buckner’s company in Bolivar County [Miss.] and all are busy preparing him for the start. The house will be desolate indeed when he is really gone, following in the perilous paths his brothers are treading before him. … There are so many victories he fears even now peace may be proclaimed before he is enrolled as a soldier fighting with his brothers. …

Mamma is suffering much with her arm but is busy knitting socks for Brother Walter and Coley. I am knitting gloves as I can do it well and rapidly now. Nothing like sticking to a thing to learn it. We are again in suspense about My Brother. Had just had a letter written after Manassas just before they crossed the Potomac into Maryland. Now there is news of a hard-won victory at Frederick and his division hotly engaged, and that is all.

I heard while in Vicksburg of the death of a cousin, Ruby Davis. She died on the plantation on the Yazoo, leaving a baby a few days old. Only her mother was with her. Her husband, who is in the army, arrived just as they were lowering her body in the grave. They had been married only a year or so. Her people are in New Orleans. Another cousin too is dead. Elam Ragan is dead on the field of battle, falling shot through the heart just as he mounted one of the enemy’s batteries shouting, “Hurrah! Come on, boys, it is ours.” Peaceful be the rest of the gallant boyish heart that knew no fear. …

A letter from Mrs. Rossman tells of the death of her young brother, Eugene Selser, another boyish soldier offering up his life, a sacrifice to his country. Mrs. Rossman says she hears regularly from My Brother. I hope Eugenia does not.

Sept. 30

A telegram from My Brother to Mamma says he is slightly wounded in the leg, wounded in the battle of Sharpsburg, Md., one of the most hotly contested battles of the campaign. Tom Manlove was also slightly wounded in the arm in the same fight. If we do not hear soon again, Brother Walter will go to Vicksburg for further news. Maybe now My Brother can come home to recuperate for a little while. He has been marching and fighting almost constantly since the first of July. Letters from Uncle Bo. He is in excellent health and spirits, and his regiment has not been in any of the late battles. Brother Walter will not go to his company until we hear further from My Brother.

Sister has been quite sick for several days. Mrs. Carson, Anna, Miss Bettie, and the girls took dinner. Had a talkative, pleasant time. Mrs. Savage is back home again. She says now she will stay till driven off by Yankees or overflow.

Our usual round of visiting and visitors, now that Mrs. Carson and Mrs. Savage are back. We went to Mrs. Curry’s to call on Mrs. Frank Blunt from Hinds County. She told us Aunt Rebeckah Jones, Ruby’s mother, died on the plantation a few days after Ruby with only the servants and the doctor with her. All her life she had been so lapped around with love and care. Tragedy after tragedy.

Today we actually had cake, a most rare occurrence, due to Mrs. Hardison’s sending us a little homemade flour. But for them, we might forget the taste of wheaten bread, and Aunt Laura is using it lavishly at $50 a barrel.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: Beyond my strength

Confederate victories on far-off battlefields sustained her belief in eventual victory, even as the boom of Union cannons rattled the very journal she filled with her hopes.

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.

Sadness and worry filled Stone’s pages throughout August 1862. Some of her neighbors quickly packed up their belongings as rumors of pillaging blue soldiers and unshackled and vengeful slaves ravaging the community blazed through every slaveholder’s imagination. Vicksburg, thought to be cleared of Union threat and protected by strong Confederate forces, again faced a Federal gunboat fleet that appeared without warning. Sickness tormented her mother and brother. Night brought feelings of fear, uncertainty over the future, and a sense of isolation.

Despite her misgivings, note Stone’s overall determined confidence, despite the dangerous proximity of Union soldiers to her home. Confederate victories on far-off battlefields sustained her belief in eventual victory, even as the boom of Union cannons rattled the very journal she filled with her hopes.

Aug. 5, 1862

I have had my bed moved to the window; and looking out tonight on the pale moonlight, the far off, misty stars, and the light, fleecy clouds scudding across the sky, the shadows of the tall trees, ghostlike on the grass, I am very happy for my darling Brother has been mentioned for distinguished gallantry in the late battles. We are not surprised for we know him, but it is grateful to have others appreciate him. My Brother in his last letter of July 2 says nothing of himself but that he was ill from fatigue but would rejoin his regiment and go into the fight the next day. The paper did not say, and we will never know, any particulars.

The Yankees have called off their gunboats and quit the river in disgust. Sometimes now we can get the papers.

Nearly everybody in the country sent us word of My Brother’s safety. So many papers and messages. All knew how anxious Mamma and all of us had been. Brother Walter did not learn much by his hard trip to Vicksburg, only a confirmation that all was well with them, and he got back safely from a perilous trip canoeing down the river. I wonder that we could have sent him on such a quest so dangerous.

The house has been full of company for ten days. At first only Mrs. Payne and Julia with transient visitors, but later Mary Gustine, Missie Morris, callers most of the time, and others to spend the night, the two Lowry boys among the others. … But taken altogether we had a pleasant time. Missie is looking better than I ever saw her but is discontented and unhappy. Alary is not as handsome as usual but is more talkative, and Julia is the same gay, carefree soul as ever. … We four had a lovely time at Mrs. Carson’s Saturday with chess, music, singing, gossip, and fruit. I can still beat Missie at chess. It is an effort but I can do it. …

The road to Vicksburg is open again. …

Aug. 19

The excitement of the last two days has been the entirely unexpected reappearance of the Yankees on the river. They came upon us like a thief in the night. The entire Yankee fleet was at Milliken’s Bend ready for a fight before anyone on the river knew they had left Memphis. It does not seem possible for thirty-nine boats to pass five hundred miles down the river without being discovered, but such was almost literally the case. The people of Lake Providence did not know until the next day that a fleet had passed by them. And at Vicksburg all were resting in perfect security, thinking the enemy far away, until Capt. White hurried into the city and told them the boats would soon be there. He put spurs to his horse as soon as the first boats reached the Bend and made all possible haste to reach Vicksburg. Fortunately, he roused them in time, and the little city will hold out as long as possible.

The surprise at the Bend was complete. The Fair Play was at the landing loaded with arms and passengers. All were captured. And the 31st La. Regt. was camped there and had only time to seize their arms and run away. The Yankees followed as far as Tallulah and there burned the depot and cars and tore up the track, returning to the Bend in time to steal anything they wanted. At dusk they went on board their boat and rejoined the fleet at Vicksburg. We heard such startling accounts that Mamma at once sent off the Negro men with Jimmy to take care of them to Bayou Macon, but tonight as all present fear is allayed, she sends for them again.

It was a time to be scared last night, and I, for one, did feel frightened. … We have heard such horrible stories of the outrages of the Yankees and Negroes that it is an anxious time for only women and children. …

We poor dwellers on this side of the river are not to be left entirely to the mercy of the enemy. The cry of distress from the river has roused the back country, and they report 3,000 men crossing the Macon today. So we will have a little army of our own something nearer than fifty miles. There are so many contradictory reports about the gunboats that we know not what to believe. There may be ten or forty before Vicksburg.

The Negroes enjoyed their hasty trip to Bayou Macon. It will give them something to talk of for a long time.

The last Yankee raid has quite decided Mrs. Savage, and they will go to the Macon Saturday, determined to remain until the war is over. They are awfully afraid of the Yankees. Four of her Negroes ran away today rather than be moved back. It is a plentiful, pleasant home to give up to destruction. I was out there a week recently nursing Anna and found it such a comfortable, abundant place. They had better hold it as long as possible. …

Aug. 25

The strife and din of war is coming fearfully near us now. Tonight just as we were sitting down to tea, we heard the boom of cannon with the rattling report of small arms. Seemed so near. It continued about fifteen minutes, and we think it must have been at Omega or the Bend. It excited and startled us, but now we are only anxious to know whether it was a skirmish.

There are now quite a number of troops on this side of the river, and in a few days there will be many more with Gen. Blanchard at their head. And the Yankees will not be so free to land and seize whatever they choose. We hear that Gen. Blanchard has ordered all the women and children living in his district to leave the river as it is no longer safe for them, and he will dispute the landing of the foe at every point. The planters generally are moving back to the hills as fast as possible. There are two families refugeeing in our neighborhood. …

We should not mind our individual reverses on this side of the river when we hear how gloriously our arms are triumphing everywhere else. Our entire line is said to be advancing, and we read of a succession of small victories.

Brother Walter returned Saturday. He had been gone more than a week. Brother Coley is well again and with his regiment. He had been very ill, and like a foolish boy he refused to go to any private home to be nursed or take medicine until Mrs. Blanton, hearing of his sickness, sent him word she was not a stranger but a friend of his mother’s and he must come to her home. He went and she soon nursed him back to health. He was quite sick when his regiment engaged the gunboats but insisted on going into action. Like the high spirited, reckless boy “spoiling for a fight” he is, he stood up in one of the rifle pits firing until he grew so ill he had to be carried out. He recovered a little and returned to his post, and when his company was ordered to march he had just strength enough to drag himself to a tree, where he was found nearly insensible by the men who had been sent out to seek him. He is of a nervous temperament and suffers so when he is sick that it required heroism to hold up his head and fight when suffering so much, as we know he was. He is a thin, delicate boy but with an indomitable spirit. He has never been strong since he was poisoned by his nurse when a little fellow. He was at Death’s door then for weeks. …

Aug. 29

The spirit of discontent is moving in my heart tonight. Gloomy thoughts will arise. Could I only be content to watch the Future as it unfolds instead of trying to pierce its mystery and mold it to my will, how much happier I would be. But as that is beyond my strength, I can only struggle against the evil spirit and exorcise it as best I may.

Mamma and I spent Wednesday with Mrs. Savage and Mrs. Carson. Both houses are in the greatest confusion, everything being pulled to pieces and packed up. Mrs. Savage and family left today. Mrs. Carson will go in a few days. It will be long, I fear, before we, all of us, spend another day together. …

The last gunboat went up the river today but may return at once.

Kate Stone’s Civil War: The fire of battle

News of major combat in Virginia between Robert E. Lee and George B. McClellan elated Stone.

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.

News of major combat in Virginia between Robert E. Lee and George B. McClellan elated Stone. But she was tormented when for weeks she waited for any confirmation that her brother and uncle had survived the brutal fighting.

July 5, 1862

Another Fourth of July has gone by without any festivities, not even a dinner for the Negroes, but they have holiday. The Yankees told Mr. McRae, while they were holding him prisoner, that they would celebrate the day by a furious attack on Vicksburg. But we have heard few guns since the third. That day we heard them very distinctly, almost a continuous roar. It was said both mortar fleets were firing on Vicksburg. We have not heard the result.

The Yankees are gathering the Negroes on the river as fast as possible. They have taken all the men able to work from Lake Providence to Pecan Grove and from Omega to Baton Rouge. They are hourly expected at Pecan Grove. Robert is with us to be out of the way when they do come. He is nearly well. The Negroes are eager to go, leaving wife and children and all for freedom promised them, but we hear they are being worked to death on the canal with no shelter at night and not much to eat.

There has been no attempt at resistance. Some of the plantations have been deserted by the owners, some of them burned by the Yankee bands, and some of them not molested. It depends on the temper of the officer in charge. If he feels malicious, he burns the premises. If a good-natured enemy, he takes what he wants and leaves the buildings standing. Most of them are malicious. Mamma will have the Negro men taken to the back country tomorrow, if she can get them to go. Generally when told to run away from the soldiers, they go right to them, and I cannot say I blame them. …

The trading boats are coming down the river again with groceries at ridiculously low prices, but of course no patriot could think of buying from them. Mamma was able to sell her surplus corn, and that helped her on wonderfully. She had such quantities of it. And we certainly will have eatables this year, judging from the looks of the great fields of corn, peas, and potatoes. Not much cotton planted. Mamma so longed for ice while she was ill, but it was impossible to get it, while those wretches on the gunboats could even have ice cream if they wished it. …

We hear rumors of a great battle in Virginia and the utter discomfiture of McClellan with Gen. Lee attacking him in front and Stonewall Jackson with 2,800 men in the rear. That was a “stone wall” McClellan found hard to climb. My Brother and Uncle Bo must both have been in the fight, but we have had no news from them for such a long time. It is heart-sickening.

July 6

Johnny and Mr. Hardison, just from the Bend, say the victory over McClellan is assured. We attacked and after a three-day fight utterly routed them, capturing most of the force. It is such good news that we can hardly believe it is true.

We are so anxious about My Brother. Any disaster … would nearly kill Mamma in her weakened state. She loves him more than anything on earth, and he is to me the dearest person in the world, next to Mamma. Uncle Bo must have been in the battle, and we cannot hear how he has fared. Suspense is hard to bear. …

July 7

Sister and I went this morning to Judge Byrnes’ below the Bend to see Julia. Heard many rumors but nothing reliable and much about the Negroes and the Yankees. Saw several gunboats go by. The two-story house is just at the river, and they have an excellent view both up and down the river. By the way, it is named River View. As we passed Omega, a gunboat had landed and a number of soldiers in the hateful blue uniform with shining guns and bristling bayonets were lounging on the levee. We did not stop to look at them but drove by as rapidly as Webster could make the mules go. …

They say we are to have two Texas regiments over to protect us tomorrow. We certainly hope so, for we seem to be given up to the evil one now. The suspense about our loved ones is hard to bear, but then not so bad as the certainty of evil would be.

July 15

Continuous and heavy cannonading all day in the direction of Vicksburg ceased soon after dark.

We have the finest melons and in this excessively hot weather they are a luxury. Lou Whitmore brought down for me a beautiful guitar, given her by her father. She does not play and insists on my keeping it, but neither do I. She is the most generous girl. She wants to give away everything, even her clothes, and when do we know we are going to get any more?

Brother Walter and Jimmy have been riding for several days helping to raise partisan bands for home protection. …

July 21

Oh, this long, cruel suspense. No news yet. Surely, if they were both alive, they would have communicated with us by this time. Every day adds to my conviction that My Brother is desperately hurt. I cannot think of him as dead. We see in one of the last papers that his brigade suffered terribly nearly all of the field officers disabled, and My Brother’s colonel, John G. Taylor, whom he loved so much, among the killed. We are relieved about Uncle Bo. His regiment did not suffer greatly. We have seen the list of killed and wounded, and his name is not there. We are thankful for his escape. But my heart leaps to my lips and I turn sick with apprehension whenever I hear a quick step, see a stranger approaching, or note a grave look on the face of any of the boys coming in from a ride. And I must conceal it all for Mamma’s sake. She has been very ill since my last writing but is better tonight. We have been sitting up with her for two nights. She is in the east room, and I am occupying hers for the time. We did not let her see the report of My Brother’s brigade. If there is trouble, she can bear it better when she regains her strength. She noticed the torn place in the newspaper, and I had to tell a story to account for it. I pray the Recording Angel may mercifully blot it out.

Brother Coley’s company is now at Skipwith’s Landing with one other company to support a battery planted there. Wish the authorities would send them to this side of the river.

The man has just returned from Dr. Carson’s with a wagonload of fruit. Everybody in the house is asleep, but, oh, as it is, I shall eat some of those lovely blue figs shining up through the leaves covering the basket. How the boys would enjoy them if I would wake them up, but morning is a better time for them to devour them.

July 24

Good news! Good news! We thank God who has preserved our loved ones unhurt through the fire of battle after battle. The news came today in a letter from Mrs. Narcisse Johnson at Lake Washington to Mamma telling her that Brother Coley had passed there on his way to camp at Greenville [Miss.]. He asked her to write to Mamma and to say that he had heard of My Brother since the battles and he escaped unhurt. Truly God has been merciful to us all. It was kind of Mrs. Johnson to write. We know her very slightly.

Mamma had grown so anxious that Brother Walter started to Vicksburg at daybreak this morning to get news. He will go all the way in a canoe, paddling himself. Truly navigation on the Mississippi is returning to the customs of the aborigines. Mamma is still in bed and improves very slowly. …

A partisan band camped at the schoolhouse last evening and Lou and Sister, returning from Mrs. Curry’s, saw them. They said they would be back this evening. Johnny and I walked out to see, but ne’er a soldier was in sight, only several Negroes returning from their Yankee pleasure trip, weary and footsore and eager to get home. Numbers of them pass here going home, bending their necks to the yoke again, preferring the old allegiance to the new. But numbers are still running to the gunboats. I would not be surprised to hear that all of ours have left in a body any day. …

	silverapplequeen on Recommended reading / viewing…
	Recommended reading… on About
	Oliana on The brilliant, deadly light: A…
	John W. Howell on The brilliant, deadly light: A…
	John W. Howell on The brilliant, deadly light: A…

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!

Tell your friends!