Josie Underwood's Civil War Diary

Josie Underwood, Nancy Disher Baird

• Publisher: The University Press of Kentucky
• Year: 2009
• ISBN:
  9780813138879
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Historical Biographies
• Index: History

A well-educated, outspoken member of a politically prominent family in Bowling Green, Kentucky, Josie Underwood (1840–1923) left behind one of the few intimate accounts of the Civil War written by a southern woman sympathetic to the Union. This vivid portrayal of the early years of the war begins several months before the first shots were fired on Fort Sumter in April 1861. "The Philistines are upon us, " twenty-year-old Josie writes in her diary, leaving no question about the alarm she feels when Confederate soldiers occupy her once peaceful town. Josie Underwood's Civil War Diary offers a firsthand account of a family that owned slaves and opposed Lincoln, yet remained unshakably loyal to the Union. Josie's father, Warner, played an important role in keeping Kentucky from seceding. Among the many highlights of the diary is Josie's record of meeting the president in wartime Washington, which served to soften her opinion of him. Josie describes her fear of secession and war, and the anguish of having relatives and friends fighting on opposite sides, noting in the spring of 1861 that many friendships and families were breaking up "faster than the Union." The diary also brings to life the fears and frustrations of living under occupation in strategically important Bowling Green, known as the "Gibraltar of the Confederacy" during the war. Despite the wartime upheaval, Josie's life is also refreshingly normal at times as she recounts travel, parties, local gossip, and the search for her "true Prince." Bringing to life this Unionist enslaver family, the diary dramatically chronicles Josie's family, community, and state during wartime.

CHAPTER ONE

During the hot, dry summer of 1860, politics and the presidential campaign dominated thoughts and discussions, and at the state fair, held in Bowling Green in mid- to late September, they overshadowed all else. Crowds gathered to hear spokesmen for candidates Bell, Breckinridge, and Douglas, and Louisville newspapers carried their speeches. John Bell and one of his supporters, John J. Crittenden, attended the fair, and to appreciative crowds they reiterated the promise they delivered at other gatherings: to preserve the Union and the Constitution. At the fair, and elsewhere throughout the fall, local politicians continued to whip crowds into a frenzy. By the first Tuesday in November, few voters could think or talk about anything except the election and its ramifications. When word of the Republican victory reached South Carolina, the state seceded from the Union. What should and would the rest of the South and the border states do? The question sparked lively discussions across Kentucky and in neighboring Tennessee.

Josie began her diary in early December as she prepared to visit with her sister and brother-in-law in Memphis. The diary chronicled a slave wedding, parties, social calls, and romantic visits that enlivened the holidays, but more serious concerns quickly overshadowed these social festivities. In Memphis, the hotbed of Tennessee’s secession movement, she witnessed torchlight parades and became involved in heated political discussions. Despite her attempts to remain a soft-spoken southern belle, the twenty-year-old voiced her parents’ opposition to Lincoln and to secession. As one after another of the states of the Lower South seceded, the intensity and anger in these discussions increased.

“MT. AIR” NEAR BOWLING GREEN, DECEMBER 1860.

DEC. 10TH—

Tomorrow morning I leave for Memphis, Tenn. to spend the winter with sister Jupe and Mr. Western. Miss Jane Grider is going with me and we expect a lovely time.¹

This will be my first visit from home since I finished school last June and became a full fledged “Young lady.” Though I felt badly when September came, that I was not to return to the dear old school, I have had a splendid time, especially during the state fair which was held in Bowling Green this year.

Sister Lute and Judge McCann came home from California and invited Messrs. Chamberlain and Massey, two gentlemen whom they met on the steamer, to visit us during the Fair. Cousin Ed Henry from Miss. came up—Will and Johnny Bell came down, Aunt Hassie, Sister Jupe and Mr. Western, Cousin Jane Todd, Mollie Rogers, and Cousin Mal Gorin were all with us, and last but by no means least, our most honored guest, Gov. John J. Crittenden, who made a beautiful address at the opening of the Fair. He has the biggest mouth I ever saw. Every evening a number of gentlemen came out from town. “Uncle” Lewis [a slave] played the fiddle for us to dance and we had lots of all sorts of fun. I am quite sure there never existed better host and hostess than Pa and Ma, to make everyone have such a good time—with apparently so much enjoyment themselves. Mr. Massey who is originally from Penn. said “Mount Air” was the realization of all he had read and imagined of a hospitable Southern home. I haven’t yet gotten quite used to having [Mike] Hall and other old beaus of my sister’s treating me with the dignity of a grown up young lady, tho’ Hugh Gwyn is making fun of me half the time. I wonder if I’ll have as good a time in Memphis. Well, “Nous erons [verrons?],” as my old French teacher is so fond of saying.

Ma has given me this book to keep a sort of Journal. What I do—who I meet—and my impressions of people and things, so I can read it to her when I return. Dear Ma! as much pleasure as I expect from this visit I feel so selfish and sad to leave her.

DEC. 12TH, 1860, MEMPHIS, TENN.

We reached here safely yesterday. Mr. Western and sister met us at the train, giving us such a hearty and affectionate welcome that we felt at once we were going to have a good time. Their home here on Vance Street is a lovely place. The house sitting far back in a big yard full of Magnolia and other southern trees, beautiful roses and flavoring [flowering] shrubs—many now in bloom— A wide veranda extends entirely across the front of the house, the tall pillars reaching to the roof above the second story. The windows open down to the porch. A wide hall through the center of the house. It is altogether a lovely home and sister and Mr. Western are as happy as can be. Certainly it would be hard to find a more congenial couple.

We had a great time when we left Bowling Green. So many of our friends were at the train to say good-bye. All in fact except Mr. B——, whereupon Hugh Gwyn asked, in the most serious tone, if any one knew the particulars of [Edwin] Baxter’s accident. Every body exclaimed, “Why no, we hadn’t heard it; what happened to him? Was he hurt,” etc. and so on. I was of course as concerned as the others. Then Hugh said, “I am awfully sorry I can’t give the particulars, but I know something dreadful must have happened to him, or he would be here. Perhaps Miss Josie can tell particulars as the last seen of him he was slowly & sadly wending his way from ‘Mount Air.’” Then we knew it was just another one of his jokes at Mr. B—and my expense. I wish he would stop this everlasting joking which Mr. B, being an Englishman, can’t parry and I don’t like—yet he is so funny I can’t get angry at him. I confess I thought it a little strange Mr. B. wasn’t there and was no little amused—not to say pleased—when at the first station 12 miles out Mr. B quietly walked into the car— Much to my annoyance Jane told him all of Hugh Gwyn’s nonsensical joke. He came with us as far as Nashville, saw us comfortably on the Memphis train—checked our trunks and, giving me a lovely box of candy, said I should be very glad to hear if you young ladies reach Memphis comfortably—whereupon Miss Jane said, “I’ll write as soon as we get there for we are so much obliged to you.” His mouth twitched in such a funny little way as he said—“O thanks!” I think she is writing now but she likes to be mysterious about her correspondents.

DEC. 13TH—

Mr. Western’s partner Mr. T[orian] and wife called this evening. Mr. T. seemed despondent about the country and wanted to talk Politics but Mrs. T. said in a pleasant way, “Please don’t you and Will Western spoil our call by political wrangling—you know you never can agree.” Mr. Western laughingly replied, “Never fear but he will soon come to my way of thinking.” “Never! never!” the old man snapped out and his lips almost clicked, he shut them so tightly. Mr. Western thinks the South ought not to submit quietly to Lincoln’s inauguration and expresses himself—often in the most ultra fashion—inconsistent, it seems to me, with his usual good sense. Mrs. T’s brother [Will Webb] called with them. A young lawyer and pretty bright fellow. He and Mr. Western both got pretty excited over the discussion Mrs. T. had rescued her husband from—

DEC. 14TH—

Several girls called today all enthusiastic over Memphis being the most delightful place in the world as there are 1100 more young men in town than women—a “regular paradise for visiting girls” they said. May we find it so! Mr. Western brought cousin Jack Henry out to take supper with us. He is a son of Uncle Gustavus Henry of Clarksville, Tenn. Tho’ born so near us, we’ve never met before—some sort of estrangement having existed between the families, but I am awfully glad I know Jack now—for he is lovely. Like all the Henry men he is fair with light wavy hair, but unlike them, instead of blue eyes, his are the softest dark hazel. His manners are elegant—neither stiff nor familiar. In fact we would not think of manners at all in connection with him. His pleasant ways are so much a part of himself, such easy grace—withal so modest and unassuming. Not the least bit self asserting, yet even when there are a dozen others in the room, as was the case this evening, even though Jack is not speaking—his presence is persuading. A Mr. Tom Grafton of Miss. and Mr. [James] Witherspoon, both young lawyers here (as is cousin Jack), called after supper—both are bright handsome men and agreeable talkers—though Mr. Grafton gave me the feeling that he was leading me to talk more for his own amusement—than my entertainment, that he was mentally criticizing me though his manner was entirely gentlemanly, almost too deferential. I did not feel at ease talking with him and was glad when the conversation became general. Mr. Witherspoon, on the other hand, impressed me as a frank good natured fellow, with no reserves or hidden motives. They are law partners. Their office [is] in the same building and adjoining Mr. Western. They invited Jane and me to go to the theatre with them tomorrow night. Sister, Mr. Western and Jack are also going. Jane claims to go with Mr. Witherspoon and I hope it will be arranged that way, for if I were asked which I like best, on such short acquaintance, I think I would say Mr. Witherspoon. Yet, Mr. Grafton interests me most, I don’t know just why.

DEC. 16TH—

Well, we went to the theatre last night. The play was “The Lady of Lyons” and perfectly beautiful. I had read it and knew all the pretty passages by heart—but Oh! how different to see it played! It was all so real I could hardly believe it was simply acting. We were in a box and I felt like we were part of the play. The only thing that marred my pleasure was Mr. Grafton. He sat there in his immaculate evening clothes, a little bunch of violets on the lapel of his coat. (He had brought me a beautiful big bunch and before we left the house asked for two or three to be pinned on his coat.) Instead of watching the play he was watching me most of the time—infinitely amused at my absolved interest. I have never been to any kind of theatre more than two or three times if so often and it was all new, beautiful and real to me and I could not assume an indifferent air—I wish I could, especially if Mr. Grafton is along. He has lived in New Orleans—travelled a great deal, and of course I am awfully green in his eyes. In spite of him, I never enjoyed anything more.²

DEC. 17TH—

We dined with the Prestons this evening. Everything was elegant and pleasant till the gentlemen began talking politics—when several of them got so excited it wasn’t pleasant at all. If Lincoln’s name happens to be mentioned, it’s like a match thrown into powder—.

DEC. 18TH—

The weather is mild and beautiful—returned calls and had a lovely drive. After supper, Jack Henry and Mr. Withers[poon] called. Later Mr. Grafton with his Uncle, Mr. Crew—an old bachelor. I like Mr. Crew very much. Sister and Mr. Western make their home so delightful with her singing and his playing so sweetly on the violin to her accompaniments—that never an evening but some young men come out. Often too—the conversation is witty and brilliant—especially if sister and Mr. Crew—take the lead—and can keep away from politics. Tonight we got to talking about the play “Lady of Lyons”—and naturally of love—marriage—love in a hut—or palace—without love and so on. As our discussion waxed spirited, I [was] carried away with my side of the argument—like the simpleton I am—quoted the speech of Ellen Douglas.

“Rather would Ellen Douglas dwell,

A prioress in Moravanian’s [sic] cell,

Than in realms beyond the sea

Courting the world’s cold charity—

An outcast pilgrim would she rove

Than wed the man she can not love.”³

Then was so mad at myself for doing it—and felt like a fool. When Mr. Grafton said in the cold quiet way he has, “You are sentimental—aren’t you Miss Underwood”— Mr. Crew came to my rescue answering—“No, not a bit sentimental, but her young heart is full of a true sentiment that you boys can’t appreciate. Come, Miss Underwood, let’s you and I join your brother on the veranda—and leave these would be cynics.” Offering me his arm with an exaggerated grace we sailed out of the room, Mr. Grafton saying as we left, “A fine trick Uncle—well played.”

I spent a pleasant half hour listening to Mr. Crew and Mr. Western talk—Sister Jupe and Miss Jane entertaining the others till time to leave. When they all came out on the veranda Mr. Grafton said—“Well Uncle—have you and Miss Underwood selected what star shall be your home—when love becomes immortal?” “We will forbid him the premises when we do, won’t we Miss Underwood?” answered Mr. Crew, and so with pleasant banter the evening ended— But as is always the case when Mr. Grafton calls—leaving me with a feeling of dissatisfaction with myself.

DEC. 20TH—

Several gentlemen called. It was dreadful to hear how they talked. Mr. Western and Mr. Grafton did not hesitate to say they would be glad to see the country divided—that there was no similarity of interest in the two sections North and South—no love between them and the sooner separated the better—Worse than useless to be trying to live as one country and forever working against each other. Dear Pa charged me to avoid political discussions but goodness alive! how can I sit quietly and hear such talk as this. Sister, Miss Jane and I are strong union—and Mr. Webb got very much excited as he argued against Mr. Western and Grafton. Though I think all he said was right—he uses such strong terms and gets so excited that he offends and does more harm than good. He and Mr. Grafton had called together—but he made excuse to leave early—evidently as Mr. Grafton as well as the rest of us knew—because he did not want to walk home with Mr. Grafton. I wish I could have heeded Pa’s advice tonight—but it is impossible to sit quietly by and hear such talk—if one has any love at all for our country— I was very glad I had read Pa’s last speech so carefully—for it seems to me there could be no finer arguments than he made in that for maintaining the Union—and in my excitement tonight they were my best weapons—but Mr. Grafton belittled them and me—by saying, “It is almost pleasant to differ with you—your excitement in defending your cause—brings such a pretty flush to your cheeks.”— He makes me so angry by treating me like I was a silly child!

DECEMBER 21ST—

Got good home letters and from John Ward and Hugh Gwyn—John telling me how he missed me—and Hugh telling me other people did—also a paper with a fine article in it, which Pa had written, in maintaining the Union.

DEC. 25TH— CHRISTMAS DAY.—

DEC. 26TH—

I was just dead tired yesterday when all the excitement was over and at last we could go to bed. Such a jolly day as we had, and in all my life I never got so many pretty things. By daylight all the darkies came tipping in, first one then another—poking their black heads in the doors—suddenly calling out “Christmas Giff Mars William—christmas giff Miss Jupe, Miss Jane—Miss Josie, christmas giff, everybody.” So we were all “caught,” as we knew we would be—and had prepared presents for the occasion. There being no children in the house firecrackers were dispensed with but were popping all around the neighborhood. We had a great time unloading the stockings which we had hung up in sister’s room—Mr. Western playing Santa Claus. Breakfast was hardly over before the bell began to ring and we [began] to receive all sorts of pretty gifts, books, flowers, baskets of fruits, cards and calls. After supper ever so many gentlemen called— We had egg nog with the brightest toasts—singing and playing, with a battle of wits between Mr. Crew and Mr. Western which kept us in uproarious laughter. The climax of fun was reached when about 11 o’clock the bell rang and Jack Henry who had left a little while before staggered in with a big gunny sack on his back—marked in white chalk—“For Miss Josie.” He put it down in the middle of the parlor—all gathered around whilst I untied the string—When up popped Ed. Norman’s [Eckstein Norton] head—like Jack-in-a-box. Out he stepped. Nobody except Jack knew he was in Memphis and they had planned this funny surprise. “What will you do with your present,” they all asked, making all sorts of fun at my expense—so I said “I’ll get Mr. [Thomas] Carrington (a banker) to lock it up in a safe deposit vault and he answered, “I’ll do it with the greatest pleasure.” So the day ended—all as merry and happy as Christmas could b...