Mary Beckley Bristow
1863: O, what an awful curse and scourge
January 1st 1863.
The old year is gone into the vortex of eternity, and in its ceaseless course has borne thousands, yes, tens of thousands, of those who this time last year were well and hearty, whose hearts beat high with hopes of human fame & glorious deeds of valor, are sleeping far from home & friends in soldiers’ graves. O, what an awful curse & scourge is civil war, Children against Parents, brother meeting brother in mortal combat. How many widows have been made, how many orphans, none can tell. Many that were basking in prosperity, with but little thought the spoiler would reach them, are now houseless, homeless wanderers. And in the midst of all those horrors of war, devastation and destruction, how could such a poor helpless worm as I have survived. . .?
1863 January 5th.
Very many cares are pressing on my mind this night. It is a hard matter to get our negroes hired to their notion.1 Some of them seem hard to please. But I have been helped out of such difficulties many times before; I hope I will again. Have heard that there is probably two battles going on at this time.2 O, how my poor heart aches at the thought that at this very moment perhaps thousands of my fellow mortals are lying on the battlefield, the wounded the dying & the dead, & for all I know some near and dear friends among them. O Lord have mercy on us & on our country. “It is nothing with Thee, O Lord, to help, whether with many or with few, or with those who have no power.” Thou hast thus far holpen3 our countrymen, battling under many disadvantages. O help Thou them again, I ask the in the name of Jesus, and with thine Almighty hand and outstretched arm drive Northern invaders from Southern soil. . . .
Coming here today, Br Lassing’s horse fell with him, and though he was very muddy, was not hurt. He seemed to be very thankful, & I know I was glad.
January 6th 1863.
Mother awoke with the same old pain in her side that has caused her so much trouble during the fall. After breakfast she seemed so much better that Sarah Jane, Mat and I paid a visit to Mrs Cleek,4 living in sight. Came home soon after dinner, found her sitting up, knitting. I hope she will not have a bad attack. The newspapers gave quite a discouraging account of the Southern army. I most ardently hope it is not as bad as they make it out, but what if it is so, will not the Lord of the whole earth do right?
1863, January 16th. Three o’clock at night.
It is very still & silent. Not a sound is heard save the noise made by the flickering blaze of the fire & the breathing of several sleepers around me, those who have for several nights been watching with me my dear old Mother, whose attack, though apparently by far the worst and to all human appearances will be the last. . . . Today she has seemed more calm than for several days past; darkness has appeared to brood over her mind & she has begged all around her to pray for her. The ties of nature seem to bind her to earth with strong cords, but Thou, O God, canst loosen them. . . .
January 22nd 1863.
How sad, how lonely does all things look. She who has been my object to care in life for many years, my beloved Mother, is gone after suffering as much as I ever saw any one for one week & one day. She breathed her last on Monday night at half past seven o’clock, the 19th day of the month. Yesterday her mortal remains was laid away in the cold grave to sleep.5 My Mother is not dead but sleepeth. . . .
Earthly cavern to thy keeping
We commit our Mother’s dust.
Keep it softly, sweetly sleeping
Till our Lord demands thy trust.
Sweetly sleep, dear saint in Jesus.
Thou with us shalt wake from death;
Hold he cannot, though he seize us;
We his power defy by faith.
It is sweet to know that all was done for my dear Mother that could be done by mortals. Kind friends hovered around her bed; all of her children and many of her grandchildren were with her, & many relatives, all doing their best to alleviate her condition, but all, all did not avail anything, for, O, her suffering from sick stomach I believe was as great as I ever witnessed. But she is now I firmly believe an inhabitant of that blessed land where sickness, pain nor sorrow can find an entrance, and best of all sin can never more annoy her. Very often during her illness we heard her beg the Lord to have mercy on her, a poor old sinful worm. I never heard her ask for temporal life, but for rest and for patience to bear her sufferings and [for] reconciliation with God’s will.
On Sunday morning, the day before she died, I standing over her, she raised her hands to heaven and said aloud, “Come, Lord Jesus. Oh come quickly.” The last words that I heard pass her lips were, “Blessed Jesus have mercy on me a poor sinner.” Pausing for a moment she added, “and take me home.” In a very short time she breathed her last. The porter death op’ed the heavenly gate, and the weary pilgrim entered into eternal rest. I humbly trust I sincerely thought I should feel thankful to see her sufferings o’er, but, O, it is a sore trial. May this bereavement, Almighty God, work for my good. . . .
January 24th 1863.
I miss my Mother everywhere; cannot go any way in the house or out of doors, but I see objects to bring her untiring industry and her unceasing care for her family before me. My Brother Reuben staid with us last night. [He] had not been in long before he said, “I miss my dear old Mama.” Yes, we all miss her, and we will miss her worse when we have to break up. I have been in pain all day under each shoulder blade. But hope I do feel some emotions of gratitude that during my Mother’s last illness I suffered but very little. . . .
February 2d, 1863.
Millie & I spent the day at Br Stansifer’s. I think we were all sad, and I am afraid Sister Stansifer and dear Sister Bettie have a cause for sadness. Their son & brother has come home from the army for a visit & tarries too long, and they are fearful he may be arrested as a prisoner.6 There certainly is some danger. . . .
February 13th 1863.
We have had thus far a very disagreeable winter. Two of the deepest snows I ever saw, and a great deal of dark, cloudy & rainy weather. The political horizon is as dark & cloudy to my finite mind or to my short sighted vision as the weather has been. My Mother was taken sick the first week in October with the disease that carried her out of this world, and Although the greater part of the time able to sit up & go about the house and sometimes out of doors, yet I have all the time considered her situation very critical on account of her great age, and have been very anxious and uneasy about her. I feel glad — I hope thankful — that Millie Clarkson has been with us this dark winter. I think she was a comfort to my Mother, talking to her & keeping her mind employed when I could find nothing to say, and I am afraid my own poor health made me selfish and often careless of her comfort. But no regrets will avail me aught now. . . .
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1863 February 22d.
This is the birthday of America’s long since departed hero, General George Washington. Could that great & good man look down from the world of spirits and behold the despotism, the anarchy and confusion that now reigns and rules in his native land, the country that he shed his blood and suffered heat and cold, anguish of body and mind, to redeem from British tyranny, how would his great heart be moved with sorrow, if natural feelings could have a place in him now. . . .
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1863, March 1st.
Heard this evening that two of my brother Reuben’s sons are very ill with scarlet fever.7 I feel very anxious indeed about them, but feel assured that myself and all I love are in the hands of a holy, just, and righteous God, who cannot err or be unkind.
"May I at all times own thy hand
And still to thee surrendered stand
Convinced that thou art God alone
May I and mine be all thy own."
1863, March 6th.
Anselm and I went over to Reuben’s last Monday; found Eddy8 and Napoleon9 both very ill. Though Eddie was thought to be better, I staid there until yesterday. I thought Napoleon might be a little better, but Jennie10 was quite sick. I fear she was taking the fever. Eddie was improving but slowly. I hated to leave my brother & dear afflicted Sister, but felt it was my duty to come home. But as the Lord had so kindly cared for all at home (although my body is so feeble), feel sorry I came. I could have been some little help & comfort to my brother & sister. O, Lord, be merciful to them, I beseech thee in the name of Jesus. Guard over their beloved son in the Southern army,11 and if consistent with thy will let us in time see his dear face again in peace. Heal their sick children, I implore, in mercy. O, Lord, give us faith to leave all in thy hands. . . .
Came home by Mrs Respess’s,12 and on account of the very bad roads was piloted by my nephew Ben Frank through Gen’l Stephens’ orchard, within a few yards of my beloved Mother’s quiet resting place. I rode up to the fence and looked at it a few minutes. When I got home, it all looked like a dream. I could scarce believe I had been there. How often, O how often, have her and I travelled that road. How hard to have to leave her there and come home alone. Whether it was fatigue or not I cannot tell, but I know I felt very strange.
March 14th 1863.
. . . Had several of my nieces with me to day. But all have gone to their homes, and I shall occupy my room alone tonight. The third night I have staid or rather slept alone since my dear Mother’s departure from this world of sorrow & sin. Brother Julius is in another room, Anselm & his family are not far off, yet I feel lonely. Anselm & family moved in with us about the 20th of February. We rented in partnership. That is, brother Julius and I will have half of the house and yard; we will also have half the grass and a garden. Enable us, O Lord, to live in peace & comfort if it be Thy will.
March 18th ’63.
Went to Union today with my nieces Sallie Breckinridge & Janie Dickerson. Made some purchases and returned home to dinner. Ance & Mat went to her Mother’s this evening. . . .
March 19th 1863.
This night two months ago my Mother died, but I am too sick to write any. My nieces Sallie & Janie are still with me. How kind my friends have been to me. . . .
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April 1st 1863.
My companion for six months past (Millie Clarkson) left me this evening. I was truly sorry to give her up, for she has been a great comfort & help to me during the past, long, dreary winter. And what I feel most in her debt for was her unceasing kindness to my dear departed Mother. Millie took every pains to please and cheer her. I think I shall not forget her kindness. And may she be amply rewarded by Him who has all power in his hands and has said, “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these little ones, ye have done it unto me.”13
April 4th 1863.
Today my niece Nancy Breckinridge left me. In a few weeks she will return to Illinois to her home. As she & I are both poor, unhealthy creatures, it is probable we may meet no more on earth. Yet I shall not forget her kindness in leaving her children & sister to stay with us. O, how glad I would be to have her to live with me as long as I have a home to share with her. Her & Millie are both gone. Now I must get used to doing without their pleasant society. Nan is a very precious woman, has passed through many trials but is cheerful under all. . . .
April 18th 1863.
My brother Reuben’s two little sons came over this evening. They say Louis14 is quite sick. They thought he had gotten over the scarlet fever, but I suppose he has taken cold and is very much swollen with dropsy.15 I shall go home with the boys tomorrow. Willie Respess and Bittie are with us tonight.
"Not from the dust afflictions grow,
Nor troubles arise from chance;
Yet we are born to cares and woe,
A sad inheritance —"
April 24th 1863.
I accompanied my brother’s sons home last Sunday; found Louis worse than I expected. Left him today, and do not think much better. I can see very plainly his physician is uneasy about him. I rode home on horseback & was so completely tired out that I felt like fainting after I had gotten in the house. How quiet my home is. I desire to return sincere and unfeigned [thanks for] the very many mercies and blessings bestowed on me, an ungrateful, helpless worm. And, O, Lord, give me faith to trust my beloved nephew, my all, in thy omnipotent hands, begging thee in the midst of deserved wrath to remember mercy.
In mercy, not in wrath, rebuke
Thy feeble worm, my God;
My spirit dreads thine angry look.
And trembles at thy rod.
May 3rd, 1863.
Last Monday morning had just got my room cleaned up and sat down to my work, when Napoleon stepped [in]. I knew from his looks that something was the matter. He soon informed me he had come for us all to [hurry] over to Reuben’s. Louis was dying. We started as soon as possible. Our dear boy was thought to be a little better. He had hard spasms, he was blind, and indeed insensible to all things for several hours before we got there, but seemed to be gradually recovering his mind. I staid with [him] until today. I left him with more hope of his recovery than I have yet had. Still he is very feeble, and a slight turn would take him off. I was very anxious to get home, and left him with reluctance. All the family seemed so anxious for me to stay.
May 2d 63.[sic]
This was our meeting day. Br Lassing was so very weak that he could say but little. He looks very feeble indeed, but thinks he is mending. O, Lord, I beseech Thee restore him to health and usefulness again. If it be thy will, cause his sickness not be unto death, but that the glory of God may be revealed hereby.
"Why should we love to linger here
In this cold house of clay,
Since life is but a smile — a tear
As quickly wiped away."
May 6th 63.
We had a newcomer this morning. Martha had a boy. Of course Ance is proud of it, as it has a red head like himself. We call him James Thornton.16 Mother and child are both doing well. . . . As there were a good many women here, Millie & I got in the buggy and went to see Miss Nancy Wilson.17 Found her to be, to all human appearance, close to that bourne from whence no traveller hath ever yet returned.18
Millie & I went to James Corban’s19 today to see dear old Uncle Anselm. Although I had heard he was very poorly, yet I was not prepared to see him so far gone as he evidently is. He is humble & gentle as a little child. One thing gave me great pleasure: he & Brother Lassing had met and freely conversed together & settled their difficulty of many years standing. My dear, old uncle remarked he wanted to be at peace with the whole world. Had no hard thoughts or feelings against any human being & hoped no one had against him. [I] came home, set down, & wrote Brother Dudley20 an [outline?] of his situation. Hope he will come to see him if practicable; if not, write to him. I feel it will be a comfort to him. They were baptized about the same time and traveled many miles together in going to meeting. Think I will see him again tomorrow.
June 5th 63.
I did not get to see Uncle Anselm again. (I had company whilst he remained in Union.) Last Tuesday morning, Huldah Conn & I got on the omnibus21 & went down to see him, hardly expecting to find him alive. He had failed very fast, but was so glad to see us. He had received a letter from Brother Dudley that gave him so much pleasure that I felt truly glad I had advised Brother D of his condition. We staid with him four days. During the whole time never heard a murmuring or impatient word from his lips. Humble and gentle as a little child, he laid calmly waiting his Master’s time to take him home. [He] expressed a perfect resignation to the Lord’s will. He did not suffer as my beloved mother did, but has the same hopeless disease, consumption, and he looked so much like her I could see her last days very plainly when looking at him. I have no hope of ever seeing him in life again. Found a good letter from Br Dudley when I got home.
June 15th 63.
My dear old uncle breathed his last yesterday morning at 7 o’clock.22 I have not a doubt but his emancipated spirit took its light to God who gave it. Today I saw his frail body laid in the grave by the side of his wife.23 How consoling to think that very same body sown in weakness shall be raised in power. It is sown in corruption; it shall be raised from corruption. It is sown in dishonor; it shall be raised in glory. It is sown a natural body; it shall be raised a spiritual body. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass this saying that is written, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?”24 Brother Lassing made a few very appropriate remarks. It has been one of the warmest days I ever experienced, I think.
"Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell
How high your great Deliverer reigns.
Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell
And led the monster death in chains."
June 17th 63.
Millie Clarkson and I went to General Stephens’ yesterday morning. Sister Wallace & her daughter, Artie,25 Reuben, Statira & the children went. Other friends met us there. It felt strange I was so near my Mother & yet could not see her. Slipped off to her grave, but she was hidden from my sight, and it was so intensely hot I could not stay but a short time. Millie [& I] went together after dinner, but the heat soon drove us back to the house. Whilst all were still at the supper table, I went back. It had then become pleasant. I had some sweetly sad reflections. Her and dear old uncle Anselm were not long separated. No one ever loved brothers better than my Mother loved hers. There is but one of my Grandfather’s large family of children left now, Uncle James, & his daughter writes he is in bad health. Thus it is, “One generation passeth away, and another cometh. Thus it will be to the end of time.”26 I knelt down by my Mother’s grave and tried to pour out my heart to the God of heaven and earth. I know not what I asked, but do know that I felt much calmer. Felt for a time that I could leave my all in the kind hands of the blessed Jesus.
My Niece Bettie Bristow27 came home with us; [she] is quite unwell with erysipelas. O, that it is thy will, O God, to give our darling better health. Above all things, O teach her to know Thee, thou living and true God. . . .
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Notes:
[Click on footnote number to return to text.]
1 The slaves owned by Jane Bristow and her children, aside from those working around the house and farm, were hired out, with the proceeds supporting the family. The new year was the traditional time for making such contracts. We do not know what kind of work they did, nor how much of their wages they retained.
2 Allowing for a few days for the news to travel to Cincinnati or Covington, and for the newspapers to reach Union, Mary probably refers to Sherman’s December 29th attack on the Chickasaw Bluffs just north of Vicksburg and to the battle of Stone’s River, near Murfreesboro, Tennessee, which began two days later, between Bragg and Roscrans.
3 Archaic past participle of help.
4 Sarah F. Riddell (born about 1832), wife of Benjamin W. Cleek (1828-1864). Mary and her brothers were renting the farm of his late father, John Jacobs Cleek. (See above, 4 Dec 1859.)
5 She was buried in the Stephens family cemetery at Beech Woods, General Stephens’ home. He wrote to his brother William on the 29th, “We had a burrying here on this day week ago. Old Aunt Ginny Bristow, Reuben’s mother, died, & they decided to burry her here. The old Lady was quite old, being about 86. She died with disease of the lungs.” [Stephens Letters, 51.]
The graveyard survives into the 1990s, just off Richardson Road, near Bristow Road, on private property. The remains of Mary’s mother and brother, Julius, were later removed to Highland Cemetery in Fort Mitchell, next to Mary, Jerome, Reuben, and Statira.
6 (See above, 6 Aug 1861.)
7 An acute, contagious respiratory infection, spread by close contact, caused by some types of Streptococcus bacteria. Symptoms include sore throat, skin rash, and later scaling of the skin. complications include pneumonia, arthritis, and skull infections. The disease was a leading cause of death among children in the nineteenth century.
8 John Edmund Bristow (1851-1941) survived another eight decades. He married twice, each time to a cousin on his mother’s side, first to Willinia Jane Herndon (1856-1881), then to Belle Carrie Poore(1862-1940).
9 Napoleon Stephens Bristow (1849-1926), named for his uncle Napoleon Bonaparte Stephens (1814-1887). He married Annie Anderson (1866-1946), who was kin to the Huey family of Boone.
10 Lucy Jane Bristow (1856-1939). She married 19 Nov 1878 in Kenton County William Chamberlain Martin (1851-1921), who became a prosperous manufacturer. Their daughters Virginia and Jane were noted beauties.
11 Jerome. (See above, 11 Oct 1861.)
12 Willie’s mother, Susannah Conde Russell Corlis (1803-1874). (See above, 1 Jan 1862.)
13 A paraphrase of Matthew 25:40.
14 Louis Lunsford Bristow (1854-1921), the youngest boy. He attended Georgetown (Kentucky) College and the University of Virginia Law School. As a young man he traveled for his health to Florida, but returned to Kentucky, where he became a judge in Georgetown. He died of complications from an infected tooth. Louis was the first serious genealogist in the family. See a sketch of Louis, along with some of his entertaining letters.
15 Also called edema, an abnormal accumulation of fluid in body tissues or cavities.
16 James Thornton Bristow (1863-1951), named for his two grandfathers. Like his father, he did not rush into matrimony: he married at the age of 45 Opha V. Riley, 23 Sep 1908.
17 Probably Martha Jane’s aunt, who was listed as being 54 in the 1860 census. Martha also had a younger sister with the same name, but Mary’s comments suggest someone in an older generation.
18 See Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1.
19 James Marshall Corbin (1825-1874), the husband of Anselm’s daughter, Nancy Pittman Clarkson (1821-1884). He was a great nephew of Lewis Corbin, the preacher at Stony Point. (See above, 17 Dec 1859.)
20 Thomas Parker Dudley. (See above, Nov 1850.)
21 A horse-drawn vehicle usually somewhat lighter than a stagecoach, suitable for shorter trips.
22 His death was noted in the Paris Western Citizen, 19 Jun 1863, “In Covington, on Sunday last, Mr A. E. Clarkson, formerly of this county, at the advanced age of 70 years.”
23 The location of their graves is not known for certain, but Anselm’s younger brother, Manoah, (1810-1846) was buried near Union, just off Frogtown Road. (See above, 12 Mar 1862.)
24 1 Corinthians 15: 53-55.
25 Mother and daughter shared the same classical name, Artemesia. (See above, 29 Mar 1859.)
26 Ecclesiastes 1:4.
27 Mary Elizabeth Bristow (1842-1901). (See above, 13 Oct 1861.)
