along with its armies. Even though the hillcountry itself did not show the destruction that many areas of the war-torn South displayed, the destruction could be found in every family and in individual lives. In some cases physical injuries handicapped the Southern soldiers when they returned home, and all faced crushed dreams and a lack of hope that would plague them for the remainder of their lives.
Although many of these hillcountry warriors only fought to preserve their states' rights, and not for the institution of slavery, when the bloody conflict ended, they bore the same yoke of oppression as the slaveholders who fought to keep slavery legal in the South.
This is their story.
—Johnny Neil Smith
Monticello, Georgia
PROLOGUE
Mississippi seceded from the union on January 9, 1861. Young men all over the state began to gather in specified areas to form military units and prepare for a war that not all were sure would ever occur. It was with this feeling that Lott Wilson allowed his two oldest sons, James Earl and Thomas, to enlist in the first military company that Newton County organized. It was assembled in Decatur, a small town in east central Mississippi about eight and one half miles southwest of Little Rock where the Wilson farm lay. They called themselves the Newton Rifles.
Lott knew its commanding officer, Montgomery Carleton, very well and felt his boys would be in good hands if any fighting did occur. Lott also sensed that when the United States Government saw that the South was willing to fight for its states' rights, the politicians in the North would then probably sit down and peacefully resolve their differences. War was about as likely as a snowstorm on the Fourth of July, Lott thought.
But that didn’t change the fact that while James Earl and Thomas were away playing war, their father was hard pressed to get everything done on the farm, especially since it was planting season. The boys had only enlisted for six months so Lott had determined to get by as well as he could until they returned. The demanding work now fell in the hands of John, his youngest son, and himself. Lott knew the work done by four would now have to be done by a boy and a worn-out old man. He prayed this excitement about a possible war would soon be over.
But hope fell on April 12, 1861, when Pierre G. T. Beauregard and his troops fired on Fort Sumter, out in the Charleston harbor, one of the four Federal forts flying the Union flag in Confederate territory. After that, the war escalated with each passing month and James Earl and Thomas were caught in the conflict. Their six month enlistment became an indefinite commitment.
SPRING PLANTING 1862
The spring of l862 was late in coming. The older Folk who had seen many come and go said this delay meant a season of unusual beauty. Across the woodlands, at first glance it seemed that a young snow lightly covered the ground. But closer examination revealed that what appeared to be snow was nothing but multitudes of dogwood trees in full bloom. Many of the hardwood trees were still dormant, so these white blossoms dominated the forestlands.
Among the dogwood trees were purple blossoms of native redbud trees dotting the landscape. In the open meadows where deer had once fed in abundance and where no plow had yet disturbed the earth, thousands of wildflowers displayed their colors.
Back in the quiet farmhouse, the pre-dawn breeze gently pushed John’s bedroom curtain back and forth while outside the rays of daylight were just illuminating the sky. Down through the hollow came a chorus of music from the whippoorwill. Occasionally the plaintive call of these lonely sounding birds would be interrupted by a screech owl somewhere near the creek bottom. Everything was peaceful, but Old Preacher Jack, the king rooster of the barnyard, began to let everyone within a good country mile know of his presence with one of the loudest voices God had ever given a creature. Jack could give ole Satan himself a headache.
But worst still was a sound John Wilson hated to hear. “John... John Wilson...Son...it’s time to get up. Yore paw’s already gone to the barn. You got work to do and ole man sun’ll be up ‘fore long.”
John couldn’t believe it was time to start another day’s work. It seemed only a minute ago he had put his head on his pillow to sleep.
“Mom, you sure this ain’t Sunday and I’m just havin’ a bad dream?”
John said jokingly. Being a religious family, the Wilsons never worked on Sunday. John settled deeper under the cover and before long was sound asleep.
This time, a more aggressive and mocking sound woke him. "John... John Willy...it’s time to get yore lazy butt out of bed. Yore good friends who you loves and resembles is a waitin’ for ya. I’m talkin’ ‘bout Zek and Abner, the mules, you know...jackasses as Professor Hendon calls them.”
“Sister, how dare you talk to yore brother like that. He’s worked hard since the boys been gone,” scolded Sarah.
Lucretia, called Sister, was the only daughter and the youngest child in the family and her parents had overprotected her. The boys felt she was a little spoiled.
Before the feud with the North began, Lucretia seemed to always be getting her way around the house. Now, that the South needed men, some of the young girls, like Sister, seemed to become less important. The Wilson boys were enjoying their moment of triumph.
John slowly dressed and made his way across the open hall to the kitchen at the back of the house. There he found a breakfast of bacon and eggs with the best biscuits in Little Rock.
He finally finished and as he rose to leave the table, Mrs. Wilson also rose as if by habit, "John, let me look at ya boy. I want to see what kind of young man you is growin’ up to be.”
“Maw, why do I go through this inspection might near every day? You can see I’m still a growin’ and I wash my face and comb my hair every morning. This is embarrassin’,” John stated in frustration.
“Stand tall young man,” Sarah commanded.
“Yes Ma’am, I’m a-standin’ tall.”
And so he was. John would not turn seventeen until October, but he was already over six feet with a slim, but muscular build. The hard work on the farm had shaped him well.
His hair was black and straight, except for a small curl in the back and his eyes were a deep sparkling blue. He wore his hair long; but when working he would wet it, comb it straight back, and tie it up with a piece of cloth to keep it off his shoulders. As the summer sun tanned his upper body, he could almost pass for one of the neighboring Choctaws.
Mrs. Wilson, acting like a military officer, slowly looked him over. “Okay, Mister John, I guess you look good ‘nough for me this morning. You can go help yore Paw now.”
She gave John a kiss on the cheek and tenderly pushed him toward the door. “I love ya boy.”
“I love you too, Maw,” John responded as he bounded down the front steps and trudged through the dark toward the barnyard located across the road from the house. As he walked, he could hear his mother and sister clanging pans and discussing his new status in the family. They seem to always be arguing lately, especially since James Earl and Thomas had left.
“Mamma, why does John get all the special treatment ‘round here? All I hear is ‘John works so hard everyday/ and ‘Oh, John is such a good student/ and ‘John was first in his class/ and ‘John has been savin’ his money so’s he can attend college at Oxford/ and ‘John is going to study law and come back to Newton County and ‘John this/ and ‘John that/” mimicked his sister.
“That’s enough, Mary Lucretia,” her mother sternly interrupted. “I’m proud of that boy and I’m proud he’s got the ambition to make sump’n of himself. Since his brothers has gone away, yore paw and I has got to depend on him. He’s got to help us hold this here farm together. He’s not a boy no more—manhood has kind of been pushed on him.”
Sarah put her arm around Lucretia, tenderly pushed her