Mollie Williams' war

Sunday, August 10, 2014

While battles and generals seem to occupy the minds of many writers about the Civil War, the folks who stayed behind often experienced equally appalling trials and tribulations--and sometimes even death.

In my estimation, no one experienced the horrors of the conflict more than Mrs. Mollie E. Williams of Searcy County. But she lived to write a fascinating book about her "thrilling" experiences, "a lesson of woman's fidelity, fortitude and affection." It is also a lesson in toughness, both physical and mental. Besides being an interesting story, this 1902 autobiography documents what tough, resilient people settled the Arkansas frontier, especially the women.

Mollie was born in 1847, the daughter of Hiram and Lavicia Brumley in Monroe County, Miss. She grew up in Memphis, where her father was a prominent merchant. She started school at age 5 and was an excellent student, as can be told by the quality of her writing. However, Mollie's mother died when she was 10, and her father then married a woman who "failed to cherish for me the love and affection for which my nature so fondly longed." Mollie did indeed long for love, and she addresses that in her book--a far more introspective perspective than most matrons of 1902 would bring to an autobiography.

Two years later, when Mollie was 12, her father died of yellow fever. She then lived with an aunt and uncle until the Civil War. On the eve of the war, Mollie fell in love for the first time. She was about 14 years old, but Mollie was a young woman of remarkable depth of feeling, with a capacity for love and commitment that must have been unusual even in an era when girls married early.

It started at church. Mollie heard "the strains of a clear, sweet masculine voice that at once attracted my attention and enlisted my interest." It turned out to be a "dark-haired laddie," and Mollie earnestly set about to woo him. Finally and dramatically, just as the dark-haired laddie prepared to march off with Confederate forces, Mollie "approached him with an earnest greeting that convinced him it indicated more than friendship." He eagerly reciprocated: "With his arm about my waist, my soldier boy impressed upon my lips a genuine lover's kiss, the ecstasy of which only lovers know, and then with a fond 'Heaven bless you,' he was gone."

The war raged for about a year before Mollie received the devastating news that her dark-haired soldier had died in battle. Mollie summarized the situation: "I was still in my early teens, with no loving mother to advise me. My loneliness became insufferable." She was soon being courted by another soldier, and in December 1863 she married Henry Cole. Three weeks later Henry was wounded on the battlefield, and Mollie set out to find him. She was shocked to find him "weltering in his own blood" and bearing a gunshot wound to the chest.

We get our first glimpse of Mollie's true grit when she "improvised a rude probe and carefully inserted it in the cavity made by the ball . . . What was my surprise to find deep in the cavity . . . a foreign substance . . . a piece of the lining of his vest and coat, which the bullet had carried into the wound." The surgery was a complete success; Cole recovered quickly and returned to rebel service.

As you might suspect, this was merely the beginning of the unending struggle that was the life of Mollie Cole. She moved in with her mother-in-law, but they were soon made homeless by pro-Union ruffians who, along with their Confederate counterparts, preyed on defenseless civilians on both sides.

The end of the war brought tragedy rather than celebration because Mollie's husband, who was on his way home, was murdered at Dardanelle and his body dumped into the Arkansas River. Mollie believed his murderer was "one of the guerrillas who had plundered and burned our home." She immediately started out on what turned out to be a 43-day fruitless search for her husband's body. "I simply existed from necessity, because it was inconvenient to die," Mollie recalled about this dark part of her life.

Mollie deserved better--and I am pleased to report that fate suddenly decided to smile on the young widow. One day soon after the war, Mollie discovered that her pre-war "dark-haired laddie" had not been killed after all. She had to woo him away from her cousin, but she ultimately succeeded and became Mrs. Valentine H. Williams. They lived long, prosperous lives and had numerous children.

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Tom Dillard is a historian and retired archivist living in rural Hot Spring County. Email him at [email protected].

Editorial on 08/10/2014