I led them into the city of Louisville; all the animals followed me up East Main Street, past a large church with arches above the doors. The goats were directly behind me, followed by sheep and cows. We were a sight, and I got many stares. As I neared downtown, I traversed several alleys in order to avoid the stares; Billy Goat Strut and Nanny Goat Strut. These alleys helped me to keep the animals in a line as we made our way through the city.
It was a cool fall morning, and I dressed in a crinmantle cape and a little pork pie hat.
Into Louisville I walked, a simple country girl all alone. Ladies and gents stared as I entered the city and paraded on by with a blank expression on my face. I was strong for the moment…yet a tear streamed down my cheek. It was very unusual to see a little girl bringing farm animals to the city markets; and the people looked and wondered about me and a long troupe of goats, sheep, cows and chickens. Through those narrow corridors I passed…cobblestone underfoot and rough masonry buildings on each side. Men looked up from their work at the livery and stared as I went, on towards the Bourbon Stock Yards. No more Mama and Papa, no more farm, no more horses, no more farm animals. Onwards to the stock yards.
I sold the last of our farm animals at the stock yards. With bitterness I took the money, money needed to survive. Still, I felt like I had betrayed my best friends.
I went back and got my little brother. We dressed in our finest clothing. I wore my yellow silky dress and a white bonnet.
We departed for the orphanage. I held my little brother’s hand as we walked along Market Street in Louisville. Squared paving stones were underfoot. I looked up and saw an imposing red brick building; it looked austere. It was St. Vincent’s Orphanage. I remembered the spires on the building looked much like an Old-World fortress. We went through the gate to our new home.
I was admitted to St. Vincent’s immediately. Andrew was taken to the boy’s orphanage, St. Thomas in Bardstown. We entered the orphanages in the fall of 1862 and remained there for a very long time.
In the early years at St. Vincent, I went into a long period of depression. This was a very bad time in my life.
One day I was laying on a blanket that was spread out on the front lawn of the orphanage. I was in a dress, laying in a fetal position face down, with my legs drawn up under my belly. I would stay in this position for a long time, and I felt that nobody cared about me. I did not talk to anyone. I had become mute. I remember that there were some women standing in the walkway wearing wide long gathered dresses that went all the way to the ground. One lady was talking to a well-dressed man in a suede suit.
I don’t know what they were discussing. I just remember feeling so sad, lost, and alone. I could hear them discussing something; perhaps they were talking about me. But I did not want to talk to anyone, I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. I withdrew into a world of silence, I hung my head, and did not respond when I was addressed by adults.
It may be that I was not neglected, but instead chose this posture of resistance. I became uncooperative, at times unruly. So perhaps the well-dressed man and spiffy women were there to help me come out of my isolation, to do some novel 19th century psychology on me. I am sure that their intentions were good, trying to help a disturbed orphan girl. Anyway, I don’t think that whatever they did worked, I remained in my solitude for quite some time.
Then I became very sick with the measles. I had a high fever and my face had bumps and sores. A kind nurse took care of me and she brought my fever down by keeping me hydrated with wet towels and some medicine. She saved my life. I came very close to death. At times, I might have felt like dying, but something inside me struggled for life. I did not want to die like that.
There were some good, caring people on the staff, but they could never take the place of my parents; the warmth, love and nurture that I had received when I was with them. I missed my parents and the farm. Now everything was gone. My life had been shattered by the mean evil soldiers, they were murderers. I wanted them to hang for what they did.
I could not see my little brother. I lost contact with him for many years.
Once I recovered from the measles I started to come out of my deep depression. I made friends with the other girls in my ward. I was especially close with Katherine and Lillian. We read books together and went for long walks with the sisters into the city. One of the younger sisters, Sister Abigale, took us under her wing. She walked us to the city park to play games like croquet and badminton. The activities helped me to regain my ambition.
We attended the orphanage school run by the sisters Mondays through Fridays. My academics improved under the demanding instruction. On Saturdays we had religious studies, and of course church on Sunday.
The fact that there was a war going on meant that there were few adoptions. Most families were challenged to the limit and were on a day to day survival for existence. Men had gone to serve in the war, draining many homes of resources.
The orphanage did serve as a shelter for us girls from the stark realities of that war. We were treated well and had all our daily provisions on a timely basis, and good meals prepared in the kitchen. The sisters taught us the value of hard work.
Katherine, Lillian and I were assigned to work details in the kitchen. We were on duty early in the morning, having our breakfast late just before classes started at 9 AM. We also worked the supper detail from 4:30 to 6 PM.
We would be at the kitchen at 6 AM making biscuits. Sisters Mary and Patricia would be frying sausage, bacon and eggs. Sometimes we made fried potatoes and johnnycakes.
Johnnycakes were also popular for supper. We prepared a lot of pork and sausage, roasted beef and potatoes, fruit and vegetables when in season. After we made the johnnycakes, Katherine, Lillie and I would help serve the girls in the dining hall. The sisters were very strict on how much we served portions. One slice of meat, one scoop of mashed potatoes with a dab of gravy, one johnnycake, and a fruit or vegetable. With three meals a day we ate better than many folks in those times.
I remember that once there was a shortage of food in the fall of 1863. We did not know what happened to our food shipment over a two-week period. Apparently, our supply wagons had been intercepted by some Union soldiers and they took our food. We had to eat a lot of johnnycakes and beans for a while.
The thought of these Union soldiers plundering our food made me furious. It made me think of the evil soldiers who had killed my Ma and Pa and stole our horses. I had come to hate all Union soldiers.
I was not the only one. Many people in the city of Louisville had come to resent the presence of what was seen as an occupation army. It was not at all uncommon to hear the slogan “Yankee go home!” being shouted in the streets. People were weary of the drunken soldiers staggering through the streets at all hours of the day and night, the gambling and constant brawls.
By May of 1864 most of the Union troops were leaving Louisville, headed to Chattanooga to join forces marching toward Atlanta. Those rampaging soldiers went to Atlanta and burned it to the ground, looting and ravaging the Confederacy.
1865
One day in July 1865 Sister Reese came and said that I had some visitors. I went with Sister Reese to the orphanage lobby and I saw my brother Andrew there with a man that I did not recognize. Andrew had grown so much since I had last seen him. He was now twelve years old, three years younger than me.
We embraced, and I cried. I was so happy to see him.
The man smiled at me and introduced himself as Uncle Will. I had not seen him in many years. He had been a soldier and had been away for a very long time in Memphis. He was my father’s youngest brother.
Sister Reese smiled at me. “Your Uncle Will has signed adoption papers for you, Ginny. You have a new home now. Please do not forget us and come visit us once in a while.”
I could not believe that I was leaving the orphanage. It was like taking my first baby steps. This had been my home for almost four years.
I packed all my belongings and said a
tearful farewell to all my friends at the orphanage and to the sisters.
When I left the orphanage, the Civil War had ended, and President Lincoln was shot. It would take a long time for me to heal from the wounds inflicted by that war. This was true for the entire country.
Uncle Will
The war was over. Men were returning in droves. In Louisville, some men fought for the Confederacy, and others fought for the Union. This was true for my Uncle Jed and Uncle Will. They were on opposing sides. When the war was over, Uncle Jed returned to his farm. His wife died years ago, so he was alone.
There were a lot of tensions during this time. There were also hundreds of freed slaves in the city, suddenly without a place to live or work. It was into this time of uncertainty that I departed the orphanage to make a fresh start.
Andrew and I went with our Uncle Will. We lived with him and his new wife, Nellie Belle. He had taken over my Mama and Papa’s land and had worked it back into a productive farm.
Pelina, my best friend from my school days, came to visit often. We rode horses together. Having Pelina close helped me to adjust to the challenges of returning to the farm. It was difficult with the bad memories of my parent’s murder. Now, with Pelina’s help, I was beginning to resemble my former self before the bad things happened in my life.
We loved to ride one of the dark brown steeds named Lightning. We rode that horse up and down a long green pasture. The farm had several wide expanses of pastureland surrounded by wooded areas. We rode together, me on the front and her holding on to my waist from the back. I was wearing a long maroon colored dress; Pelina also wore a long flowing dress fashionable for the time. We rode straddling the horse like a man. People would look surprised to see this and asked why we did not ride like proper ladies. No doubt it was more fun this way, and we wanted to ride Lightning fast. We would ride up and down the length of the pasture, laughing all the way, our long hair flowing in the wind. We loved the spirited horse, he made the ride all the more thrilling.
April 1867
I lived with my uncle until I was almost 17. My little brother grew up into a strong young man. Life was good once again, but I began to question my uncle about taking over the farm. Wasn’t I the rightful heir? Was he going to take it away from me?
My uncle and his wife were good to my brother and me for a long period of time, but when I was about 17 things began to change for the worse. There was constant bickering, my uncle seemed to be having a hard time with the farm and with his marriage.
His wife was much younger, twenty-three; even so she manipulated him. She always seemed to want more and more. And the more that I learned about her past, the less I got along with her.
Then there was the issue of the farm. I felt like the farm should belong to me and my brother, that was what my parents would have wanted. But they were now the sole owners of the deed by rights of having worked the farm for 2 years. This led to many fights. I could not stand either of them anymore.
Then one-day Nellie Belle (my uncle’s wife) tells me that she used to be a saloon girl in Memphis. She knows how to get her way with men, she tells me. “Honey, why don’t ya’ go to Louisville, you are a pretty girl, trim and fit. You can get yourself anything you want there. It’s time you moved on, Ginny.”
Her words stung like the bite of a black widow spider. I cried myself to sleep that night. I woke up before sunrise, laying there in bed, thinking about my life. I remembered all the good times I had at the farm when Mama and Papa were alive, and the wonderful times that I had with Pelina riding horses, laughing away all my cares. Now my house and land were stolen out from under me. I had to fight back.
Circumstances forced my decision. I left for Louisville the following week.
I had to get away from my uncle and his conniving wife. I decided to go out and start a new life on my own; to some degree this was testing my wings. I knew that I had to make it on my own. I could not depend on those who were taking away my rightful inheritance.
I told my brother of my plans, and at first, he tried to persuade me to stay, but in the end, he understood my actions. Pelina helped me to pack. She also supported my decision. I gave Lightening to her and he had a good home on her father’s farm, where I was able to visit often and ride.
My bags were ready to go, and I rode into the city with Pelina and her mother in a carriage. They helped me to find a place to live.
I found a room at a widow’s house. Louisville had many Civil War widows. It must have been so lonely for them, most having lost husbands and sons in the gruesome war. The house was a typical 19th century Victorian style residence south of Market.
I found work at a garment factory in the warehouse district. I worked with other young women at the factory, but there was not much time for socializing, as we had to keep a steady pace or face termination by a mean, burly male supervisor who smelled of liquor. I hated the job and yearned for better times. The factory was dirty with deplorable conditions, and I had to put in 12 hours a day, sunrise to sunset. By the time I got home to my rented room I was drained.
One evening on the way home from work our horse-drawn street car passed some taverns and card rooms near Fourth Street and Main. Brilliantly lit up with gas lights, these places seemed inviting compared to my horrid existence at the factory. I was curious; this nightlife seemed the attraction, a nice escape from the drudgery of the garment factory.
The following weekend, I went out with some of the girls from work and my best friends, Pelina and Katherine. We all wanted to experience the nightlife firsthand. I was able to get the weekend off from the factory, and my plans were laid for a weekend of fun and adventure. I invited my two friends to come stay with me. When I got home from work, Pelina was waiting for me on the front steps of the house. I took her up to the second floor and showed her my room. We had many stories to tell and much gossip to catch up on.
Katherine arrived along with my friends from work, Sarah and Victoria. It was time to get ready for our evening out on the town. We put on our layered bustle dresses, fixed one another’s hair and applied make-up, perfumes and jewelry. I must say we all looked very elegant in our lovely attire. Of course, bonnets were not worn with our evening dresses. Katherine’s long red hair was much too beautiful to hide.
We walked to the street corner to wait for the horse-drawn street car. Soon we boarded the car and were on our way. The coach entered Fourth Street, close to the central business district. Passing several stores and banks, we disembarked near some hotels. Not far from the hotels were several taverns. There was music in the air and laughter spilled from the many establishments on either side of the street.
We were attracted to one of the larger taverns that was very busy with customers, and we could hear a fiddle and banjo playing some lively tunes. The door stood open, and inside we could see many crowded rooms. The bar area was in the front, and in a side room there was music and many people dancing. Another area to the left was a card room with several tables, where gamblers sat holding their playing cards.
We stood at the door looking inside for a long time, trying to get our confidence up to go inside. I kept thinking about all the sermons I’d listened to when I was young, about the sins of dancing and liquor, and how women who do such things are vixens. I think my friends were having the same dreadful thoughts.
Some very rowdy people got off one of the coaches in the street and pressed their way towards the saloon. One of the women in the group smiled at us.
“Come on! Come on!” She told us, motioning for us to enter. We walked into the bar shaking from head to toe.
Here we stood in a tavern of all places, four young ladies from an astute upbringing, well versed in the ways of proper Christian conduct. I kept thinking, “my, what would the man of the cloth say now?” I felt uncomfortable, it was too warm in there, with the smell of smoke and liquor everywhere. I was about ready to turn around and walk out, but the music and dancing from the adjoining room was riveting. The dancing was s
o energetic, the ladies’ dresses spinning around, high kicks, partners moving in circles arm in arm.
We edged closer to the dance floor. Pelina knew many of the dance moves, and she showed us the ropes. This was just in the nick of time. The men were eyeing us from the moment we entered the bar, and soon we were all out on the dance floor, swinging and spinning to the rhythm of the music.
I must have danced with three different men before I met Walter. Walter was attractive, twenty-three years old, and very muscular. About five feet ten, he had light sandy wavy hair and gray eyes. We danced through the rest of the night, and he was a natural at it. I learned rapidly with his lead. I had never had so much fun in all my life. He bought me some drinks, gin (gin for Ginny) mixed for a lady’s taste. Everything felt just fine now, I was hot and sweaty, but so was everyone else out on the dance floor. It was an evening that none of us would ever soon forget.... I danced until my feet felt numb.
Walter and I rested at a table in the bar area. Pelina and my other friends joined us, so we put some tables together. We had another round of drinks. There were many men sitting and standing around our table; we had caused quite a stir. I gave all my attention to Walter.
Walter told me that he worked on the riverboats, that he had started out as a deck hand, but now he was a pilot.
I told him about my life. He listened with keen interest, shaking his head in dismay when I described how my parents had been brutally murdered by the soldiers.
“Union soldiers did this?” He asked.
“Yes” I said. “They wore dark blue uniforms. They were Union soldiers.”
When I told him how my uncle had stolen my farm, his eyes flashed with anger.
Kentucky Sky Page 3