Mary Beckley Bristow
1865: The whole world seems to be changed
January 1st 1865.
New Years Day has been very cold but bright. A deep snow covers the sealed up ground from sight. Reuben & Statira came over in a sleigh, but were very cold when they got here. Returned home this evening. It has been a sad day to me. . . .
January 7th 1865.
The deepest snow I have seen since my Mother’s death fell last night. Today was our monthly meeting, but the depth of the snow over the very muddy roads precluded me from making the attempt as I should necessarily have had to go alone. . . .
Jan 26th 65.
The snow is still very deep & we have had the longest spell of intensely cold weather I remember to have experienced. Have been wishing to go to Union for some time past, and imagining this morning that there was a change in the weather for the better, Nan B and I set off tolerably early. Never was a greater mistake made by two old women, for it certainly has been the coldest day we have had this winter. Took dinner with Sister Stansifer, went to the store, made our purchases, and returned home safe & without suffering very much, we were so wrapped up. Heard that there was to be a general exchange of prisoners.1 O, how my heart ached for those poor fellows. Those bitter cold nights we have had & also for the poor soldiers, my own boys, how they must suffer.2 O, God of mercy, shield them I beseech thee in the name of Jesus.
January 27th, 1865. /Letter from Army./
Had my heart gladdened and I think warmed with a feeling of deep, unfeigned gratitude. Today John Wallace3 came in and handed me a letter from Jerome, the first I have received from him since I saw him last June. In the first battle near Abingdon,4 he had a ball shot through his hat. In the last battle fought at or near the same place, a ball passed through his over coat, making twenty-one holes. Of course, the coat must have been rolled up. I can’t see how else it could have been. When I first read the letter, I only felt glad and grateful, but I trust now it causes me to shudder to think how close the deadly missile approached my darling boy, and yet an unseen hand warded it off. He says he has helped inter many of his comrades since he was in Kentucky last June, among them his bed mate, James Huey,5 whom he deeply regrets. All the boys from the immediate neighborhood have been mercifully preserved, or were when he wrote, the 6th day of the present month. [He] claims to feel his indebtedness to an Omnipotent God. Oh, that he and all of my dear, young friends may be brought to feel their entire dependence on the Almighty Father. . . .
March 29th [written over], At Reuben’s.
At this time one week ago what anguish was in my heart. In this very room where all is now still amd quiet, we were listening to the dying groans of my beloved brother Julius. It seems we only got moved and fixed here in this room, waiting for our little house to be built, for him to sicken and die. [I] think he suffered greatly, but I never heard a murmuring word from him, nor a groan until death was on him. Since last June I have been aware that a complication of diseases was wearing his body away, and actually thought myself prepared in great measure for the approach of that dread monster to take my earthly protector from me, but I was mistaken.
Death is hard to realize. When I was today at the Cleek Place where he and I have lived for more than five years, I was looking for his tracks, and I have no doubt they were there, for the person who has rented the place has not yet moved, on account of the illness of his wife. In the five years that we lived there we lost three of of our family by death. First Sallie, a good and faithful servant, Who died the 29th of January 1860. My beloved Mother was called from earth to heaven the 19th day of January 1863. Poor Celia followed January 24th, 1864. My dear brother Julius departed from this world of sin and sorrow at one o’clock last Thursday night the 23rd.
When my Mother died I had my dear old brother to cling to. Now I feel alone, the eldest of the three that is [sic] left, and both of my brothers having families of their own to care for. Yet I would not murmer, for no creature could be more kindly cared for, more affectionately treated, than I am and have been since I have occupied this room. I hope I desire to feel thankful for such unmerited blessings, freely bestowed on an unworthy, sinful worm. And although I miss my dear, old brother who resided with my Mother & myself for more than twenty years, nearly ever since his wife died. And for the past two years he and myself have kept house together, and for months past we have both been so poorly that neither but seldom left home. I strive to think I have one care less on earth, one treasure more in heaven, but it does not console me as it should, for I also know that the one on whom I felt I had most right to lean and look to of [sic] earth is gone. He had nothing but me; I had nothing but him. But, Ah, I will not murmer for I — according to all human calculations — will not be lonely long or stay long behind him. But of this I know nothing nor do I feel anxious but for one thing. That is that Jesus who can make a dying bed soft as downy pillows are will be with me in the dark vale. While blest with his presence I shall fear no evil. My brother professed a hope in Christ many years ago but never joined any church. Several times I heard him earnestly begging the Lord to have mercy on him. I don’t believe such requests at such a time would go unheeded by our blessed Saviour, and as his life was — with the exception of openly confessing and putting on the name of Jesus — that of a God-fearing man, I hope he is at this moment in heaven with God in Christ, which is far better than suffering in this sin-stained world.
His languishing head is at rest;
Its thinking and aching are over.
The quiet, immovable breast
Will be heaved by affliction no more.
Greatly has he been afflicted. But there’s quiet in the grave, and it would be purely selfish for me to wish him back. Last Sunday evening (though I felt but little able to go) felt so unhappy about my niece Sarah Jane D—, who was so very poorly at my brother’s funeral), I accompanied my brother Reuben to see her. Found her little better. The next morning went on to Anselm’s. I am sorry to say I found and left his wife not at all smart, though her babe was a week old. Little Julius6 named for my departed brother, who was a great favorite with Martha. I was restless & unhappy, and though I feel quite uneasy about my Sister, left yesterday evening.
This morning Nan Breckinridge went with me to the Cleek Place. I gathered and packed a good many of my things that are still there. Brought my bible, testament, hymn book, and this, my present Record, home with me. I have lived at a great many places in the past ten years, but have lived just as long there as at all the others put together. For five years it has been home. The endearing appellation of home; it felt like home, and though I have felt great regrets at leaving all the others and I loved this last best of all, yet I was glad to leave, for I have known for a year that my dear old brother & myself did not have health enough between us to live alone, and the dreadful situation of the country, the loss of our negroes, together with the almost certainty of the balance leaving or being taken from us, precluded the idea of keeping Aunt Millie & her daughter with us, or any other person, as appearances were that we would have to be taken care of by others. I thought we would be very happy here when we got to ourselves. The children took pride & pains to wait on and please their afflicted old uncle. But O, what a restless, strangely unsatisfied feeling there is in my heart since his death. I hope it will not be so long for it has never been my temperament to brood over sorrows & troubles over which I have no control. Almighty Sovereign, take the load and guide my mind; control the thoughts and emotions of my heart.
“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 thine own.”
Sept 18th [1865] My Cottage Home.
Nearly half a year has elapsed since I have written in this book. Many things have deterred me, living in a large family where there has necessarily been much noise and confusion, and we have been very seldom without company. But above all my health has been so very poor that when I had time to write I was not able. Am doing the most of my work myself, though for more than three weeks past have been so terribly afflicted with erysipelas that I have been obliged to give up work, particularly cooking. Hope if the Lord will help me to be able to keep up correspondence with my friends and also to to write oftener in my record. But can’t promise nothing.
Finished a letter to our dear brother Theobalds today. Was so glad and yet ashamed when I received the second letter from him since I had written to him. The same time (the 3d of the present month) I also received one from Cousin Caroline Ashburn, who had been owing me a letter for more than two years. I answered her the same day as there was some business to attend to, or rather she wished some information from me. I then went to Anselm’s to obtain some medical advice from Dr Clarkson,7 as my erysipelas had become so distressing I could not bear it any longer without trying to get assistance. Staid a week under the Dr’s care & returned home a good deal better but by no means well. Have been cleaning up my house since. Today put down my carpet and will for the future sleep & eat in my Cottage Home, though it is not finished, but is comfortable.
Sept 19th [1865].
Have missed by dear old brother so much today. Now that I am keeping house I feel his loss more than I have done since his death. . . .
Oct 4th 65.
Last Saturday evening my heart was made glad by a visit from my brother A., his wife & children. Enjoyed their company until ten o’clock; then we went to bed. My brother was complaining, but we thought of nothing serious. . . . The next morning he awoke us, and truly his appearance was alarming. [He] had been vomiting and purging nearly all night, and his limbs were violently cramped. It was near ten o’clock before we got a physician, though we had sent for three. His voice was so weak we could scarcely hear him speak. The Dr said it was very near to cholera. I felt sure that if not speedily relieved he could not stand it but a very short time. But in the kind providence of a merciful God he was relieved, and this evening8 thought he might get home where his presence was greatly needed, as all his negro men have left him. I hope I desire to return unfeigned thanks to the Giver of all our blessings. But, O, how strangely cold I feel.
“To thee I come, a sinner weak
And scarce know how to pray or speak;
From fear and weakness set me free
O God be merciful to me.”
Received answer from Br. Theobalds to mine of the 18th Sept. A most excellent letter.
Oct. 8th 65.
Statira and the little girls9 accompanied me in my buggy yesterday to our Church meeting at Sardis. There was but a few of us there, but I thought Br Lassing looked better and preached better than he has for some time. Reuben & Statira went to Anselm’s. I staid with Sarah Jane Clarkson.10 In the evening called to see Sister Adams & Sister Thompson,11 both of them in wretched health. Sister Adams I am afraid will never be any better. Our little Church seems dwindling away. Today was our communion. It was to me a solemn time. While Br Lassing was giving the hymn commencing with,“Twas in that dark, that doleful night, &c.” It seemed that I could with the eye of faith (I hope) see the body of the blessed Saviour torn with nails, with the scourge, and with thorns, while stern justice was pouring on his guiltless head.
“His heavy vengeance in our stead
For us his vital blood was shed
As a chastisement for our guilt
When for black crime of biggest size
He gave his soul a sacrifice
Do this (he cried) till time shall end
In memory of your dying friend
Meet at my table and record
The love of your exalted Lord.”
I think it has been more than a year since we had a communion season at Sardis. I asked the brethren around the table never to neglect the ordinance again. And whether I live to celebrate his death and sufferings with his people on earth again or not, I may with them partake,“The marriage supper of the Lamb.”
Oct 9th 65.
Feel very much fatigued, and the erysipelas that had been a good deal better (though I have never been clear of it, even for half a day) is evidently returning. How I dread another attack none but those who have experienced it can tell. For it is a most distressing disease both to mind and body. Yet I would bear with patience all that my heavenly Father sends me.
“Dear Lord, though bitter is the cup
Thy gracious hand deals out to me,
I cheerfully would drink it up.
That cannot hurt which comes from thee.”
Oct 10th 65.
Have had a wearisome day. Mat sent Ann to wash up my bedclothes for me. Nancy helped her,12 and I got dinner and cleaned up. Not much more than I do every day, yet I suffered far more than usual with a hard aching in my side and the erysipelas in my side. Must go back to see Dr Clarkson soon. How strange it seems to me when I look back. From my birth I have always plenty of servants to wait on me. Now that I am fifty-six years old, have to do most of my work. I have passed through many changes in my pilgrimage, but have always heretofore had at least one or more servants that I could rely on. But, O, how much better is my condition than that of thousands reared equally tender in the down trodden and oppressed South. . . .
Oct 22d 65.
Owing to my Sister’s illness I was prevented going to my brother Anselm’s last week. She was better to=day and I should have gone, but two young friends from Bourbon Co. came down to pay a visit to my brother Reuben’s family, Mr & Mrs Switzer.13 As the young lady was a favorite of mine & the young man had been a rebel soldier, I stayed to see them. Mr & Mrs Lucian Stephens also spent the day with us. I was pleased with the company but feel exceedingly weary. . . .
Nov 6th 65.
Returned home yesterday after nearly too weeks absence from my new home. Was greatly wearied, my health very little improved. But desire, if my heart deceives me not, to return sincere thanks to the giver of all good for the unmerited blessings bestowed upon me in the past two short weeks. Tuesday morning the 24th day of Oct, got up and had my breakfast quite early and got ready to start. Statira wished to go with me but did not feel able. Reuben made some lame excuses, so I set off in my buggy alone. When I got their [sic] dear old Br Jones14 was giving out his hymn. I got seated in time to join in singing the last verse of the hymn,
“Here let the weary rest
Who love the Savour’s name;
Though with no sweet enjoyment blest
His cov’nant stands the same.”
* * * * *
Nov 19 [1865].
Yesterday my dear Anselm & his family came to see me. I was truly glad to see them, and the lttle dear ones were glad to see their Aunt Mary. Yet I was sorry to find my brother still complaining and looking badly, and also I thought low spirited. How glad I would be if we lived nearer that we could see each other oftener. It is hard to be separated from him, and his wife and children are very dear to me. Am too tired to write tonight.
Nov 26th 65.
We were invited to spend the day at General Stephens.15 His son & his wife were there from Covington.16 I felt a great desire to go there once more before the weather and the roads get bad to visit my Mother & brother’s graves and also to meet with those friends whom I highly esteem. Therefore I concluded to accompany Statira. Although I was feeling unusually bad, I enjoyed myself much better than I expected nor did I suffer so much as usual.
After dinner I slipped out to the graveyard. There are four persons interred there whose tombstones inform us were over eighty years of age.17 My beloved Mother was one of those aged pilgrims. I sat on her grave, knowing my weight would not disturb the quiet sleeper beneath and tried as I have done before when I visit those very precious mounds to raise my thoughts & heart to my heavenly Father in the name of Jesus to help his poor wayward & froward — but often sad and lonely, often worn and weary — child to press on toward the mark. . . .
* * * * *
December 25th, 1865.
. . . Dined today at General Stephens. Sat at a table spread with every luxury this vain world can afford.18 Had many thoughts, while noticing the profusion of rich provisions around me, about the destitution of the citizens of the South, torn up and destroyed. Perhaps thousands who had been used to all the luxuries of earth have not this bright, beautiful Christmas the bare necessities of life. . . . Oh, for faith to trust the great Creator and Disposer of all worlds and creatures, when all looks dark and drear as it does at present. Congress has at last freed all the Negroes.19 I am by this act of theirs left almost wholly dependent. I cannot for my life see how they have the right to take my property from me, that I have spent not only nearly all other property, but days and nights of anxious watching when sick, and to clothe, feed, and keep them comfortable. Nevertheless, I remember that the wicked are the Lord’s sword, that he is Governor among the nations, that no Congress can go farther than he permits. Thus far shalt thou go but no farther, and then shall thy proud waves be stayed. Opressors shall be hurled from their seats, and those who are now trampled on will again arise in God’s own way and time.
The day was so pleasant that we dined in the porch, so whenever I raised my head I could see the hallowed spot that contains what was mortal of my beloved Mother and the dear brother with whom I spent last Christmas day, and unbidden tears filled my eyes several times. Yet I rejoice that they are sleeping in the quiet grave. No changes can affect them now, and I am not selfish enough to wish them to share my lonely lot. A little while and I shall go to them, I hope, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. Often I feel so weary, body and mind both longing for rest.
“But why impatience doth thou rise?
Depart thou source of ill.
Why should I fly above the skies
Before my Maker’s will?
No harm can come within the bounds
Which his own hands have set.
My soul shall hide beneath his wounds
And find a safe retreat.”
No, O my Lord, keep from impatience in every case. But I can with truth adopt the language of another poet,
“O, for a heart to seek my God
Encouraged by his gracious word
To view my Saviour all complete
And lie submissive at his feet.”
December 28th.
Have spent rather a cheerless day. Last night Jerome had a dreadful spell of earache & Bettie was suffering with neuralgia. He was well as usual this morning. Bettie is still poorly. How differently I have spent this holiday from former holidays. At this time of year I always made it a time to answer all my letters, bind my last volume of the Signs, [and] look over past volumes, a task I was amazingly fond of. Now I have not my Signs in my hands, nor my bible nor testament. Have read some, indeed all this evening, in the memoirs of Hannah Moore,20 a book that interests me greatly. My correspondents have dwindled down so much that I owe no one a letter. The whole world seems to be changed. I feel but little interest in anything. It seems indeed strange that as the things of time interest me so little that I do not feel a greater interest in the things pertaining to godliness, but to my sorrow most confess that I am greatly indifferent to all important subjects too. As the Poet says,“How strange I feel by night and day, I know not what to think.” I verily believed that when I got moved to myself where I should have perfect quiet, I should read my bible a great deal more, become what I was before the war, a good scriptarian, write more and reflect on the things of eternity. Such is not the case. I have every opportunity to read, do but seldom feel able to write. But to reflect seems out of my power. Can’t for my life keep any one subject on my mind for any length of time.
Often for a moment’s space
I sincerely mourn my case;
But before I am aware
My mourning vanishes in air.
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Notes:
[Click on footnote number to return to text.]
1 No such exchange took place. Union authorities, recognizing that the North had a huge advantage in manpower, refused to continue the practice.
2 Her nephew Jerome was suffering from the winter weather in mountainous southwestern Virginia. His commander, Basil Duke, recalled in his memoirs the conditions:
The night was bitterly cold, and the men were so chilled they were scarcely able to sit on their horses. . . . The Federals lost hundreds of men, whose limbs, rotted by the cold, had to be amputated. Such suffering, to be conceived, must be witnessed. . . . Soon after this, my brigade went into winter quarters. Forage was scarcely to be had at all in the department, and I sent my horses, with a strong detail to guard and attend to them, to North Carolina. The men could scarcely be reconciled to this parting with their best friends, and feared, too, it precluded infantry service. In the winter huts built at Abingdon, they were sufficiently comfortable, but were half famished. The country was almost bare of supplies. Still they bore up, cheerful and resolute. . . .
History of Morgan’s Cavalry, 562-563.
3 Probably John Wallace, Jr., the son of General John and Artemesia Wallace. He was a few years younger than Jerome.
4 The remnants of Morgan’s Kentucky troops were stationed in southwestern Virginia, to protect the mines in the area and to bar the Federal forces from the back door to Richmond. Although they may have loomed large in Aunt Mary’s anxious mind, neither battle rates more than a footnote in general histories. Gary C. Walker, The War in Southwest Virginia, 1861-1865 attempts to do justice to the over-looked theater.
5 There were several Huey families in Boone County, most likely related. Two“J. Huey”s had joined the 2nd Kentucky Cavalry with Jerome in 1862. Jerome’s bed mate was probably James S. Huey (b 14 Aug 1839), son of Robert Huey and Matilda Brady. He had been captured in 1863 in Tennese and exchanged. James L. Huey, a cousin, survived the war and is buried at Big Bone Church in southwestern Boone County. [Kentucky Post, 26 May 1960, K-4; See also Jack Rouse, Civil War in Booone County, 184-184.]
6 Julius Clopton Bristow (1865-1955). He and his younger brother, Cumberland (1867-1946), married sisters, Florence (1876-1929) and Ida May Love (1878-1958).
7 Likely Joseph Kendrick Clarkson (1839-1871), Millie’s son. (See above, 18 Dec 1864.)
8 Saturday was the 30th of September, so Anselm had been laid up four days with the unidentified intestinal malady.
9 Her youngest daughters, Lucy Jane Bristow, age 9, and Statira Benning Bristow, 6.
10 Daughter of Reuben and Polly (Strode) Clarkson.
11 Neither identified.
12 Ann may be the slave who was suffering from an eye infection, 23 Mar 1862. The 1870 census found an Ann Bristow, age 45, working as a domestic in Covington. Nancy may be either a servant not otherwise mentioned or Mary’s niece, Nannie Dickerson Bristow, who would have been four.
13 Not identified.
14 Not identified.
15 Probably to celebrate Statira’s 48th birthday, which fell on the 27th.
16 Napoleon Bonaparte Stephens (1814-1887) and Rebekah Hughes Stephens (1822-1901). He had followed his father into politics, serving two terms in the Kentucky legislature, 1839-1843, before becoming Clerk of both the state and federal courts. He later served as President of the Covington City Council.
17 In addition to Mary’s mother, they were Statira’s grandparents, Benjamin Stephens, Sr. (1754-1839) and Dorothy Jemima (Waller) Stephens (1756-1836), and her uncle Edmund Stephens (1777-1864).
18 General Stephens described the day to his brother, William.
Our Christmas passed off here very pleasantly, for a pretier Christmas day I never did see. It was much more like spring than winter. We dined in the back porch without being at all uncomfortable. There were not so many folks as usual, but a very cheerful company. A part of Napoleon’s folks were not here. Rebecca and Kate did not come on account of Kate’s delicate condition. So much for marrying a widower. Bittie Respess prevented by the same reason. The rest were all here, & our own two sisters, both of whom were in apparent good health."
Stephens Letters, 77-78.
19 The Thirteenth Amendment, which abolished slavery throughout the United States, was sent to the States February 1st, and ratification was completed December 6th 1865. Enabling legislation took effect on December 18th, a week before Christmas.
20 Hannah More (1745-1833), an English reformer and philanthropist. Her Memoirs (adapted from her letters) had been through three editions by 1838. Her letters were still in print almost a century later. Mary may have had an American abridgement, since the 1838 version ran to four volumes.
