Children of Henry Philips Williams and Martha Ann "Nannie" Haskins

The Nannie Diaries

By MINOA UFFELMAN

It was February 16, 1862, and Nannie Haskins, a 16-year-old native of Clarksville, Tenn., was anxiously awaiting news of the Battle of Fort Donelson, just a few dozen miles downriver. Like her neighbors, Nannie knew that if Fort Donelson, which guarded the Cumberland near the Tennessee-Kentucky border, and Fort Henry, which did the same along the nearby Tennessee River, were to fall, the entire Confederacy would suddenly be at grave risk. It was even more personal for Nannie: her brother Robert was serving at Donelson.

Nannie later wrote of the chaos that ensued that night, after news of the Confederate defeat arrived atop a wave of soldiers and civilians fleeing the victorious army of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant: “It was Sunday the news came such panic-stricken people were never seen before. The wounded were being brought up. They were to be attended too — a great many died on their way up here, who were buried. The citizens were running. There were already two hospitals here which were filled with the sick.” One makeshift hospital was so near the Haskins home that Nannie heard moans of the wounded throughout the night.

Grant’s troops soon captured Clarksville, and soon after Nashville, less than 50 miles away. For the rest of the war it remained occupied by federal troops, and Nannie’s diary gives us a unique insight into Clarksville’s daily life. Her entries mix information about battles, wounded neighbors, guerrilla warfare and violence along with descriptions of domestic life, school assignments, social events and scores of local people struggling to maintain their lives as best they could in the midst of Civil War.

The Haskinses were a prosperous family and prominent in the Clarksville community. Edward Branch Haskins, a physician, and his wife, Tennessee Stark Haskins, owned several slaves before the war and were well connected with the professional and political classes of the region. Nannie, a bright and curious girl, received an excellent education at Clarksville Female Academy; she loved literature, studied French, sang, played the piano and even took guitar lessons.

In other words, she was a well-spoken witness at the heart of the early Civil War in the west. Clarksville, a city of about 5,000 people in 1860, is situated at the confluence of the Cumberland and Red Rivers, northwest of Nashville; river and rail transportation made it a regional commercial center for local tobacco and iron, as well as numerous slaughterhouses. Like much of the Upper South, its townspeople did not support secession until after the firing on Fort Sumter. Afterward, however, it became a central part of the Southern war effort, serving as a Confederate recruiting center. Both Nannie’s brothers, Robert and Ben, enlisted.

The loss of Clarksville, along with the rest of West and Middle Tennessee, was calamitous for the Confederacy, and the Haskins family as well. Robert was taken prisoner at Fort Donelson and transferred to a Northern prisoner of war camp. Nannie wrote: “My dear brother was among the number who was to be sent and incarcerated in a northern bastille where he languished and died.”

After the defeat, Clarksville braced itself for the unknown. Looting was an immediate concern, while violence continued for the duration of the war. After a warehouse of army rations was left open, recalled one resident, “The rabble, white and black, from all parts of town were not slow in availing themselves of its contents.” Union guerrillas looted private property and slaves. Another young Clarksvillian, Serepta Jordan wrote, “What may we poor Rebels in this part of Lincolndom expect? we are left entirely to the mercy of vandals.” To this lament, she added, “losing 50 or 100 negroes was the most maddening.”

In March, Federal troops vandalized local Stewart College, stripping it bare of books and scientific equipment. Nannie suffered personally during this “thiefing expedition” when they stole her beloved horse: “They took off a great many negroes and horses, among the latter was my beautiful gallant grey ‘Stonewall Jackson.’ He was a present from Pa.”

The Haskins house overlooked the Cumberland River. At dusk on May 12, 1863, Nannie wrote, “Those hateful gun boats! They look like they are from the lower regions. Now this the second night that four of them have been anchored in the river opposite our house. I know they are frightened, they have placed their gunboats so that if an attack is made, they can shell the town. Poor cowards, I can just turn my head now and see them crawling about on the boats like so many snakes.”

About 1,500 Federal troops occupied the city from 1863 to 1865, though the military commander, Col. S.D. Bruce, a Kentuckian, attempted to make occupation as painless as possible. Nevertheless, the sight of African-American soldiers carrying weapons was particularly galling to Nannie and other white Clarksvillians, while Union soldiers arrested preachers they suspected of supporting the Confederacy and demanded allegiance from worshipers. Merchants had to take loyalty oaths to stay in business.

Despite the presence of so many soldiers, life under occupation was chaotic. Hundreds of ex-slaves populated numerous contraband camps. Some African-American men joined the Union or hired themselves out for labor; the Haskins family hired young black women to do the cooking and housework. White refugees arrived as well, and by December 1864, Clarksville held about 3,000 refugees — men, women and children — fleeing Sherman’s March.

Violence in the form of robberies, kidnappings, beatings and murders was constant. “The whole county is alive with robbers, every night we hear of a new robbery and perhaps a murder,” Nannie wrote. “Every minute of the day we hear of something startling, which four years ago would have made us ‘shake in our shoes,’ now merely give them a passing thought. War has hardened us.”

Social activities provided a respite amid the violence and turmoil. Nannie’s diary is replete with accounts of parties, concerts, picnics, tableaux and dances. She often named everyone in attendance, and making special note of the attentions of young men. Nannie could also dabble in youthful indiscretions: she once attended a party where people were dancing; upon returning home her mother reprimanded her severely for dancing while in mourning for her brother. And in some ways, her diary illustrates a young woman much like those in more peaceful times: the night after her 18th birthday party, where the guests feasted on pound cake, ice cream and strawberries, she ended her entry on a melancholy note, wondering where she would be 18 years later, and if she would make a mark on the world.

 Nannie resented the occupying Federal troops. She wrote, “Never see a Yankee but what I roll my eyes, grit my teeth, and almost shake my fist at them, and then bit my lip involuntarily and turn away in disgust — God save us!” Not all the young women felt the same way. Once after a concert at the Presbyterian church where Nannie performed, the event was marred, she noted, by “some young ladies up in the gallery [who] carried on shamefully with the Yankees.” Even still, the Southerners ended the evening’s orders with a round of “Dixie,” defying Union orders.