Kentucky in the Civil War, Mary's Dinner
Although written in the form of a letter, this was a story told to my husband by his grandmother, who was the grandniece of Mary.
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My dear William,
I write to you today to tell you of the time of trial and trouble we have had. With Jesus at our side, we have survived a most calamitous time! Our neighbors, alas, have not been so fortunate, as many of them were shot while protecting their property. We have suffered grievous losses, dear brother, and hope that you and the family at Mount St. Joseph are well.
We heard from our neighbors that Union troops were marching south from Paducah, and for us to prepare. We heard the terrible tales of what happened to innocent civilians in the armys wake. Thomas and I buried our silver and jewelry in the floor of the tobacco barn, where our crop was curing. We went out by night, just the two of us, by candlelight, using Old Moses shovel, then scattered the smoking embers over the spot. The servants knew what we were doing, of course, as they gave us keepsakes to bury for them, too. They hid from us, so that they could not know and unwittingly give us away. We walked through the stalks of corn, much of it ready to harvest, and looked our last on our good farm.
It was getting onto lunch time the next day, when the soldiers came. I had just put the biscuits in the pan, when I heard an awful clatter! They marched right down the road and up to the house, their horses trampling the crops in the field, the darkies running every which way. They shot our dogs where they stood on the porch! Our house servants stayed with us, of course, gathering in the kitchen in a panic. Mammy took the children upstairs and put them in their room, so they would not see what would happen. Thomas had been staying close to the house all day, not wanting our home to be left unguarded. I stood by my dear husbands side, as their commander rode up to the house.
They turned us out of our own home, with nothing but the clothes we had on our backs! We were allowed to take not one stitch of clothing, not one quilt, not one bolt of cloth, nor any food, nor valuables, nor cash. Under our very eyes, they fired the tobacco barn, and gathered the cattle for slaughter. Thomas was so very angry! I held his hand to calm him. I told him, Under no circumstances are we to protest, or we shall be shot and killed here upon our own front porch!
Thomas stood silently, dear brother, his hands into fists, as the horses trampled the corn crop, and the soldiers ran through the garden, tearing the vines out of the ground. He stood so until they pulled Black Jack, his favorite horse, out of the barn. The commander dismounted his own horse, looked Black Jack over, and took his halter in his hand! My husbands favorite horse!
Thomas couldnt help it, he stepped forward in anger, and the commander aimed his pistol at him! I pulled Thomas back, quickly, by my side and stared at the floorboards of the porch, praying to Jesus and the Sweet Saints of Heaven that Thomas would be spared! We were not to have a horse, a buggy, nor means of conveyance, and we were to be set upon the road, like common thieves, to make our way to town, where we would be occupied.
The soldiers came into the house, smashing everything they could not carry away, taking whatever suited their fancy. Yet, I could say nothing, for by this time, another one of the soldiers had his gun pointed at Thomas chest, and their vile commander watching close by. Not two feet from Thomas chest was the muzzle of their awful gun. I said the rosary quietly to myself, dear brother, praying for help from above. Then, they went upstairs. I could say nothing, do nothing, dear brother, but pray and wait. I heard Mammy screaming and the children crying in fear, as they tore our children from her grasp, and taking them from their blankets and their nurse, they thrust the children at us.
We stood on the porch, silently, as the servants wept and wailed in the background. We were set upon the drive leaving our home, and our servants wished to follow us, but were not allowed to do so. Elizabeth asked if she might have the crucifix in the parlor, to take Jesus with her. The devil commandant nodded to her and said, Where youre going, youll need it. My dear child climbed onto her Papas chair to take it from the wall to bring it with us.
I was halfway down the drive, when the commander said, Get that woman! I was dragged backwards, dear brother, back to the commanders presence, to stand alone, without my family, as they were forced at gun point, to leave our home. I was not allowed to speak to Thomas, or to call out to them, but they turned toward Mayfield, and that is where I knew I must go. I did not know what they would do with me or to me, dear brother. I had heard the stories and feared, not only for my honor, but for my very life!
That blackguard forced me to kill six of our best chickens and prepare a meal for him and his command! I worked all afternoon, baking and cooking them a fine meal, out of my own larder, the likes of which they never had seen in many a day. To finish the grand meal, I baked three apple pies, the apples from our own trees. I added plenty of cinnamon, dear brother, just as you like them. They smelled so good, as I had not had any dinner, but I could not let one crumb past my lips.
I served them upon my own dining room table, dear brother. They had put their boots upon my best table, and their spurs had gouged deep marks in the top. I watched through the windows as they slaughtered our cattle, and our pigs, cruelly spitting their carcasses in their great camp that was set around our home, on our land. They took all of the horses and mules, and built fires out of the plows and rakes. I saw all of this from my kitchen, all afternoon, my dear brother, as I cooked.
I brought the food to them, and then, was pushed out of my own home at gunpoint! Grateful to have been spared my life, I walked down the long road toward Mayfield, through the fields of soldiers, most of the night, until I reached Cousin Minnies house near Mayfield. Thanks be to Jesus, I found my husband and children there! Mammy had come with them, through the woods, until they reached town. Our other servants have joined us, one by one. As I walked, I wondered if I had made quite enough pie for them all I hoped, dear brother that I had made enough so that all of them could take seconds, too.
Now I know. Not one of them lived through the night. Three of them died with their villainous faces in their plates. In their haste to steal everything, they missed the arsenic I kept in the pantry. They must have truly enjoyed my apple pie!
Pray for Jesus to forgive me, dear brother.
Your loving sister,
Mary
Thanks for coming by!
General movement of troops in the Jackson Purchase Area of Kentucky. I will follow this article with pictures, of this part of the battles in KY... 
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Mary is still a very lively legend in the family!
Whether or not we agree with her politics, she was turned out of her home. They may have THOUGHT she went quietly, but she left a silent, but deadly, gift...
Take care!
I've seen this movie before.
It just keeps getting better.
I love you, too, dear Augur!
The family still, to this day, laughs about apple pie-- and my husband won't eat it. EVER.
LOL!
LOL, dear flameaway!
And this isn't drivel!
Thank you!!!
I pulled it up, polished it a bit, and republished it!
Men are so into their loud, aggressive, violent way of being they forget that women fight different. Women are quietly efficient with no need for direct confrontation. Mary was as heroic as any man whoflamboyantlyinhabiteda battlefield, but like so many women heroes, her role was never included in male history.
That's why I wrote these stories. They are the voices of women-- not that anyone heard them!
Oh, Loretta, I'm so glad to see you! You can't know how much!
((((((((Loretta)))))))))))
Good to see you too. I'll have to go take a look at your other articles on women. They do need to be told. Our young women and girls deserve to know this herstory.
I'm in the midst of publishing this series... More tomorrow and the next day, etc. Wait until the last one... Emma is strong!
Smart man.
Now, y'all know I'd never poison Magnum! Ever!!!
I tell him that to not eat apple pie is un-American... He won't even eat an apple turnover from Arby's...
I love berries, and elderberry is one I can eat, but won't 'pursue'! What a hoot!
Mary is my hero. Her memory should live on for centuries and I'm sure that it will.
Wonderful series Dowser, keep'um coming.
I know you did, I read it over at the other place. It's just as interesting this time around as the first.
I always wondered that, myself. The only thing I can think of is that there were so many people crowded into Mayfield, they couldn't figure out where to look, or how to find her. Her neighbors would certainly have protected her!
In any of these stories, I don't know that they can be proven-- not up to the Smithsonian standards, anyway. But, just as "family stories", or what was passed down from generation to generation, it is pretty interesting.
Thanks for coming by, Robert!
Written history gets adjusted all the time and is usually full of propaganda meant to bolster the views of the person writing it.
For instance: where are all the women in the "history"of the Revolutionary War? They were warriors too. Paul Revere did not make that famous ride. Sybil Ludington did. Did you even know there was a Mother of the Boston Tea Party or a Mother of the Revolutionary War?
Of course, the slaughter of the Indians is told completely from the white point of view. The Indian point of view is far different. Did you know Custer's only true battle is the one he lost? In all others, he hid behind Indian women and children hostages, forcing the Indian men to surrender in order to save the lives of the women and children. Even so, he slaughtered his hostages and took some of them captive as sexual slaves who he passed out nightly to his men. He died at the hands of women. The Indian women punched his eardrums with leather awls and rammed an arrow shaft up his penis. Can you remember being taught any of that?
How about the "history" of Cleopatra committing suicide using an asp. Never happened. She was murdered by a Roman general who later becameCaesar Not surprisingly, he wrote the fiction about her death.
So let's not knock oral history for not being accurate until written history tells the real truth.
That's true in all stories, including in those that observed the actual event. Look at how witnesses all see something different and tell a slightly different story even moments after an event.
All of history is written like that. This would be no different because that's how humans interpret the events they know about.
But we don't know what happened because we were not there nor were weprivyto the family memories passed down through the generations.
You may be right about the soldiers, but you may also be wrong. Men, including soldiers, view women far different than they view men. They are less suspicious of women and usually do not think of women as warriors. So even if they heard about the men dying, they probably did not think of poison or of the woman walking past them. In fact, they probably thought that woman was harmless and unable to fight back.
Here's a few true stories about women who braved the lines of the Red Coats in much the same manner described in this story:
July 4th: Spies in Disguise: The Feminine Side of Patriotism and Liberty
Excellent article, dear Loretta!
As I say above, I can not prove any of this-- but then, no one important write down the women's stories, nor was in "the paper", so to speak. I would imagine that she got off scot-free. After all, who would turn her in? And maybe everyone inside that was eating, didn't all die at once-- maybe it took overnight for them to die, in their tents. And who would brave going into a commander's tent at night, unbidden?
But these are presented, not as historical fact, but historical antidotes-- BIG difference!
All I know for sure is that my husband won't touch an apple pie...
Well, that's the problem isn't it: until the last few decades, the only "history" was the history that men valued. They left women completely out of their writings as if we didn't exist at all. Since then, women have been digging out the facts and legends about the roles women played throughout history.
Because many of them are oral or were kept in women's diaries, they too often get devalued. The common theme is "if it really happened, it would have been in history books" as if anything to do with women was in the history books.
People need to realize that our history books are very biased in favor of white men. The stories of all others were deliberately ignored or omitted. We're just beginning to get them included and already white men are having fits because we're "rewriting history." In Texas, they've banned everything that features people other than white men. That's pretty desperate. Why are they so afraid of hearing history from the POV of others?
That is a VERY good question.
In this article-- I made sure to say that this was just family history, fictional stories, etc. Yet, people want to claim that it is distorted and not a fact?
Frankly, I don't give a damn. This is the story I heard. I could care less if it is completely true, partially true, illogical, stupid, etc. This is family history-- it doesn't meet the standards of the Smithsonian, but who cares?
Thanks, Loretta. I am bothered only by the lack of history as told by the women.
It's not just you, Dowser. The other day I saw an article on Custer that tried to set the record straight on his exploits. The author didn't quote any Native American and didn't get into NA issues. He stuck to talking about false things taught about Custer from a military standpoint,but one of the first commenters raged that he wasn't going to take an Indian's word for it because they were worse than white men. His post was quite long and lacked facts, but he was sure he was right and not one iota of the fables about Custer should be changed.
We need to ignore that nastiness and go on recovering the views of those who were deliberately left out of history. As long as we capture the basic facts and essence of their story, we'll be as factual as white men's history.
Damn yankees.
Dratted java, I've written this reply 3 times. The java update is a mess!
And yes, I'm sure she felt that way!
YOU are very right!
Wish I could comment better... But I agree!!
As my family's unofficial historian I can say with out a doubt Gramaw's line was on one side and my grandfather's line was on the other, although, they were all born in Kentucky. I'd bet it was like the Capulet's and the Montague's when they broke cornbread together.
Oh yes... We had both sides, too-- but they rarely, if ever met each other. I don't THINK it was purposeful, but, maybe!
How is that different than a leader of troops who cautions them "Don't fire until we see the whites of their eyes." Both waited until the right moment according to their strategy, did they not?
She did not have to experience a change of heart to get her family to safety before she acted. She obviously used theelapsedtime to plan well, but that doesn't show a change of heart. It simply shows planning over impulse. It also shows she took hold of the opportunity that presented itself. She did not have that opportunity before they held her back and made her stay.
Yes, she might have been angry. If she was, she had every right to be. But we cannot assume she acted in anger anymore than we can assume a general acts in anger. She might actually have been happy to have the opportunity present itself.
The idea she had to be "one pissed off woman" before deciding to poison her enemies is rooted in the idea that women would not act to defend their families, homes or nations like a man would. No one would expect a man to only kill his enemies when he was "one pissed off man." They expect him to kill his enemies because those enemies exist and want to conquer what he holds dear.
Agreed, but that fact could be why it was left out of history. Her story, if it was known at the time, should have been told but it wasn't. Was that because it was a secret or because she was a woman? There is a critical difference.
In any case, the fact it was not told then does not make it ineligible for telling now, and the passage of time does not diminish its importance.
Is every detail perfect? Before you ask that or complain that it may not be, please hold all of the tales told in our history books to the same standard. I suspect all of them would fail that standard.
Robert, from what I gather, she felt that she was about to be raped and murdered-- maybe she felt like she didn't have anything to lose.
There wasn't any video footage available at the time.
Don't ask me the whys, I wasn't there-- I am only telling the story as it has been told me, in a fictional account.
Well, that was just a wonderful story. It has a nice flow and the language and cadence of the 19th century is nice. I notice that your Mary is far too refined to use slang. Not a soul crossed lots or were savage as a meat axe. Though it is implied that the damn yankees were indeed savage as a meat axe and crossed lots to mess with your fambly.
My home town approached the yankee invasion quite differently. When the army in blue got within distance, the ladies, along with the pootentates of the town, rode out and invited the yankee officers to a ball. Consequently, the rabble stayed in camp and the Officers whooped the night away. Not a home was burned or looted. No rape nor other mayhem came to pass in the little town on the bluff.
My Paw did find a wall full of confederate money when he knocked it open but that was out on the plantation on the road to Dothan. I don't think their ladies invited anyone to a ball. I don't know though. Sandusky didn't burn either.
Oh, if you want to delve a little further into women in The Late Misunderstanding find a copy of "A People's History of the Civil War".
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Oh, and "A Diary From Dixie", Mary Boykin Chestnut.
Or, for a hoot and a half of a novel, "The Widow of the South" by Robert Hicks
Can't wait to read the rest of your stories!
Dear Tex, I just got paid at midnight... LOL, So, I'll look tomorrow for those on Amazon! Thanks so very much!
I do love you-- and the ladies down where you were had a great idea! All this was right before Grant took command of both of the armies down there. I wish I could find my Ft. Donelson pictures...
A sad place, Ft. Donelson. Any hoo, thanks for your wonderful comments, and great book ideas!
Dowser, I'd trust your apple pie any day. I don't particularly care for apple pie, but yours, I'd trust.
Another great tale. I am glad to you that you intend to publish these stories. They are treasure troves.
Dowser, Loretta, have either of you read Desiree's Baby buy Kate Copeland? This is a wonderful short story, with much subterfuge. It starts of telling the reader to wonder why. It ends up with the last paragraph being double spaced from the story, but there is no need for the double spacing, except to tell the reader that the last paragraph is very important to the story. The setting is two Louisiana plantations. Fascinating story and I encourage you to read it. It is more history.
I'll have to look that one up! I read a great book last night-- Dear Cary- by Dyan Cannon... Not at all historical, but interesting, none the less...
I'll have to look it up. By the way, Desiree's Baby was written right after the Civil War by a woman, so look for the message within in regard to slavery.
Oppression by omission. Hmmm. I think there was a tome titled the same about women soldiers in the War Between the States. There was another titled "They Fought Like Demons" about the same.
My dear friend-- thank you, so very much!
We went to Harrodsburg on Sunday, where Emma lived. I've been there before, but not to pay that much attention to the old courthouse where Emma practiced. Pretty neat! There are some old maps available, and I'm hoping I can find out what her address was, and maybe find her house. Likely it's up under a parking lot, but it would be fun to see, any way!
MUCH love to you!
Love that name, Tex! LOL!