Mary Miller Withers

Ante-Bellum Belle

Mary Miller Withers was the eldest daughter of Judge Thomas Jefferson Withers (1804-1865) and Elizabeth Tunstall Boykin. Her Southern aristocratic family was politically well connected. Governor Stephen Decatur Miller was married to her mother's sister; and a close friend of her father. When the governor died in 1830, the Withers adopted two of Miller's daughters: Mary Boykin Miller (who wrote A Diary From Dixie), and Catherine Boykin Miller. Mary had three siblings as well: Thomas J.Withers, Jr. (1841-1858) who died in a horse race accident; Katherine "Kate"(born in 1845), who died of typhoid fever in 1865; and William Randolph "Tanny" Withers (born in 1846), who served in the Civil War and survived.

She lived the ante-bellum life of the Southern belle and was well known for her beauty and graciousness. In 1857, she met William Lennox Kirkland II in Charleston, and they were married in 1859, two years later. He took her to his plantation, Rose Hill, and they had three children:

• Thomas Jefferson Kirkland m. Fredericka Alexander
• Mary Anna Kirkland
• Elizabeth T. Kirkland m. Thomas M. Trotter

Reminiscences of Childhood
by Mary Miller Withers (written in 1923)

Shadrach was down with Smallpox from having stolen a mattress from the Cantey home where it was ordered burned, but instead of that, he brought it home and with it, brought this dreaded disease. The poor old negro was devoted to me and I to him, and would often ride me on the horses back. Therefore, hearing he was sick I went to him and the whole yard was alarmed, seeing this three-year-old baby endangering herself. I was carrying him something and can remember what an object he was with his red face and red eyes, throwing his gruel out of the window. He could not be pleased with any nourishment and died soon after.

Father (Judge Thomas Jefferson Withers) ordered the carriage and horses around immediately and Alexander, the coachman, then drove us down to Aunt Mary Miller's (the wife of Gov. Miller) and for whom I was named. The disease, strange to say, did not spread.

The next I remember was when Father took my baby brother Tom, who was teething, to Flat Rock, and Aunt Mary Miller and I went with them. The horses got frightened and ran away, and the old Aunt had her collar bone broken in trying to save the baby. She took a foot and gave me a kick to save me.

The Dan Hugers were living nearby, and were devoted to the delicate baby. How well I remember the little brother asking for "Gee bed and chicken bone" (Huger bread and chicken).

Here there is a wide lapse in years in my memory of time and when I remember myself again, I was a girl at school. William Clifton, my first cousin, who was adopted by my parents, his not living, would carry me to Miss Henrietta De Leon who taught so many their ABC's. Bloomsbury was then just thick woods. The foundation was being laid for what is known as the Villepigue home. How well I remember one foot falling into a post hole then being dug for a fence ever after marked the line at the Villepigue home. And Pine Flat, now known as the Hobkirk Inn, was very beautiful - filled with lovely tall pines, it was the meeting place for all the school children.

There were thirty negroes to be fed and clothed in the yard. My Mother each spring would go to Charleston and get bolts of homespun and colored calico, then tore off for each family so many yards of the homespun and dresses each for five women, the heads of the family. What would hurt mother so, they would put the calico in their chests, not made up, and wear the old clothes we would give them instead.

Monroe Boykin, the head butler and head of everything on the yard, was faithful and devoted to Mother and Father, Mother having owned his mother and her children, three sons and a daughter. Monroe, Alexander and William, the latter who is living today (1923) and often comes to see me. The white homespun was for the underclothes for the men, women and children, but I must not forget the dark blue homespun dresses they all seemed for some reason to prefer. They all seemed to take a bath every Saturday afternoon and looked very nice in their blue dresses. Lizzie, the daughter of Phoebe, was light yellow. I just see her yellow feet walking up and down in the summer with the babies. She was afterwards the mother of ten children. Phoebe died of consumption and Mother was always anxious and careful with her children.

There was a house out in the yard where the servants supplies were kept, always meal, grist, a barrel of molasses and a side of bacon. Monroe kept the key and gave it out to the different families. A loaf of sugar was hung up in there and a quarter of beef for the family, Father being very fond of steak. I can hear Mother's voice saying, "Mom Celia, your master is coming tonight and get everything ready for him to have a nice steak and coffee."

When the molasses gave out, the barrel was sawed open for the sugar at the bottom, and every little negro would come with a pan for his or her share. "They gwine saw de barrel, les go"- and they would dance with joy.

Mother would say to the head man on the yard, "Take your tribe and cut off all the dead buds on the hedge." Mrs. John de Saussure said always that the hedges were the prettiest she ever say and I think it was because it was so carefully debudded. Some of the children were not willing to work and Monroe would use the switch which would make the mothers come to the fence and angrily cry out, "You better stop beating my children!" He would say, "Now you done spoil all de good my whipping would have done."

Father and Mother formed a class of nine girls to be taught for three hundred dollars a piece by Mrs. McCandless, the noted teacher of the place for girls, Mr. McCandless for boys. The school house was a one-room building put up by them for the purpose. Mrs McCandless was said to be very partial to me, but she was generally noted as being very strict. The girls would ask why I would get satisfactory when they would get unsatisfactory and we all knew I did not deserve it. Our Mothers were greatly interested in the reports and would give us a tea party if they were meekly good. Another instant that excited the girls wrath was that I raised the top of my desk and ate my lunch in school - a cup of preserves and bread, the preserve I can remember so well the peaches, large pieces dripping from my mouth when the teacher came around to my desk and caught me and said, "Give me some." instead of the scolding I expected to have, and then just said, "Mary put that up until recess."

She made me bring Father's copy of Humes' "History of England" to use herself and it was large and took up the whole of her desk when History class was called we were made to write an abstract of what we had studied the day before. Every Friday we had to carry a composition and recite poetry - Byron, Kirwhite and Moore were the rage in that day. Child Harolde was our favorite. Harriet Grant who afterwards married Richard Stockton of Baltimore could, I really believe, recite a whole canto of Byron's Child Harolde. Harriet Grant, Mary Reynolds who married Henry de Saussure (killed at the battle of Fraser's Farm, leaving four sons), Kitty and Mary West, who moved to Texas and died there, Hannah Jones, Harriet Milling, Flora Brevard, Sue McDowell, Lila Davis, daughter of Bishop Davis. There are three of us left of that class: Sue McDowell, Lila Davis and myself. Whenever Lila is in Camden, she comes to see me and we have the most delightful intercourse of the school days long ago. She still has a very bright memory and is interesting.

Between thirteen and fourteen years of age (1851), I began my summer indisposition that I have always had and Father said, "Mary, I will send you off to Dr. Meggs [celebrated doctor of Philadelphia] with Kitty and David Williams." Dr. Meggs examined me and sent us both to Newport to take the surf baths. I took about a half dozen, but it was hard to get warm afterwards and my lips were white, so I had to stop. There we stayed at the Atlantic Hotel where I met charming people. Among them were officers from Fort Adams on the coast including Col. Phillip Stockton with his second wife and lovely little Lord Fauntleroy boy with curls down his back. And Col. Jerome Bonaparte, who afterward, I think, married Miss Patterson from Baltimore. We danced with them at the hops given at the hotel every Wednesday night.

My fourteenth birthday came and my girl friends worried and teased me and said I would never see eighteen again because I was so tall. Two of these girls were Mrs. DeWitt Clinton's granddaughters. She was the wife of a former governor of New York and she was very stuck up about it. She had apartments there and regularly seemed to govern the Hotel. She heard the girls tease me about my birthday being eighteen instead of fourteen and called me in her parlor sympathetically. "I hear those girls worrying you, but I know from your gosling face that you are only fourteen." "Come in my room, I am going to give you a present." And she gave me a pair of old point lace cuffs (they wore cuffs always then). "Go now and write your Mother that Mrs. DeWitt Clinton has given you a present for your birthday, and bring this letter for me to see." I carried it to her and she was so shocked to find that I had announced her as old Mrs. DeWitt Clinton and insisted that I write it over and bring it to her. I did and it was finally satisfactory.

My Father, who was solicitor, was now made Judge (1846). The news coming while he was off on a business tour. Whenever the other Judges held court in Camden, they stayed with my Father. Our favorite among them was Judge Whitner - he petted me greatly and I loved him dearly. I can see his face, so kindly to children. He would rub his hands and say, "Here you are growing to be a young lady." My childhood was so closely connected with my sister Kate and brother Randolph. Her face was unusual. The full face so sad and yet the profile saucy.

Cousin Mary and Gen. James Chestnut took me with them to the Virginia springs in 1856, where we met people from all the face of the earth - a great many from Charleston - Mr. Frank Ravenel, Gen. Johnson Petigrue,Mr. Arnoldas van der Horst and Mr. Hugh Rose were the ones we were thrown more with.

The following winter I attended the St. Cecilia balls with Governor and Mrs. Allston going down to the city with Cousin Kate and Cousin David Williams. I was attended by my faithful maid Selina, who packed and unpacked my trunks and took care of everything in the room. She was indeed faithful in the extreme to me. My dresses were sent to me in Charleston from New York. One was a white ground brocaded with bunches of pink roses. The silk was so heavy and thick it could stand alone. It was made as the dresses were worn then - a peak in front, back and sides, laced up, tight waist-wide berth made of pink tulle. It was a full hoop skirt. There were other pretty dresses, but this was my favorite.

I was staying at the Mills House in Meeting Street. There were many charming people at this house. The lovely Miss Maria Church, called "Tattie" with her stepmother, her sister and her brother. A visitor at the Mills House one evening was Mr. William Lennox Kirkland, a rice planter of Combahee. Later there was a ball given at Mr. Barnwell Hayward's at Homestead. It was formerly owned by Mr. Faber, who was the first husband of Mr. Kirkland's mother. Mr. Kirkland seemed pleased that I wore camelias that he had brought me at the ball and said, "I feel so complimented that you wore them."

The fancy ball was a noted affair and it seemed Father and the whole family went with me to see that I was properly dressed as "Diana." Diana . . . my light shoes with the silver fringe around the ankle had red heels - my father having paid the man more money for the red heels. Why, I don't know, but remember there was quite a fuss about those heels my costume demanded a great deal of care, the silver crescent, etc. This ball was a brilliant affair and will ever be remembered by me, certainly the accident of a bottle of champagne frappe being opened just behind me and much of it went down my back.

In June of 1857 I took a trip to Europe being away six months. I went with Cousin David and Cousin Kate Williams. They left their three children with Cousin Mary Chesnut in the home I am now living in (Kamchatka). It was first owned by the Chesnuts until he was sent as Senator to Washington in 1858. We sailed from Boston on the "American." Mr. Evander Griffin, Mr. Hugh Rose and I can't recall the celebrated writer who asked me to sing Moore's little poem, "When twilight dews arte falling fast upon the rosy sea and watch the stars whose beams so bright are guiding me to thee, etc."

We had a delightful trip over, the sea being calm as a pond disturbed only by the track of the vessel. We landed at Liverpool, and were met by Mr. William Trenholm. We traveled in England and Scotland and then to Paris where Cousin Mary Chesnut insisted on having a pastel made of me by Charles Bazin. We had fun over this picture. One of the young men insisted upon having my lip measured because he said it was too long in the picture. The artist always came to our salon and several who were over there would come too. Mr. Burnet Rhett, Dr. Peter Griffin was studying there and Mr. Rudd from Kentucky were among those.

While Cousin Kate and Cousin David were out the day, I went out by myself to do some shopping. When I came in they had returned and missing me, David said upon my arriving, "Don't you know young ladies do not go on the street alone, and you are apt to be arrested?" meaning, my being arrested, entirely in fun and yet to frighten. This made me more careful a few days later when I was left again in the parlor, and officer of the law with insignia of authority knocked at the door and said something to me in an excited manner in French of which I did not understand a word, and thought that this was carrying out Cousin David's threat my arrest! I was frightened and called a porter to come and tell me what the man had said. He only wanted the palette of the painter who had left it in the buffet.

We returned on the "Persian" not receiving Father's letter warning us not to take passage on that boat because it was considered unseaworthy from his Boston Examiner. In the meantime, we had taken passage on the Persian and he was dreadfully worried and much relieved when he at last met us at Kingville.

I am left with Mother, who is sick in bed, and Father, poor man, almost a maniac while the rest have gone to the funeral of my Darling.

I can write no more, but God knows what I feel - may His arm strengthen each one of us and give us healing balm for such wounds as he had thought proper to inflict. Mother, Father and myself spent the summer of 1858 on Sullivan's Island after my brother Tom's death who was killed by being thrown from his horse when only eighteen.

While in the city we always stayed at the Mills House and it was once on our return home from the Island that I well remember Miss Lizzie the housekeeper saying to me, "One of your friends has just been here and is outdone that he has missed you altogether. I told him you were to spend the rest of the summer at the Virginia Springs. He said, 'I am going too.'" This friend was Mr. Kirkland.

From the Diary of Mary MillerWithers, 1858

William Lennox Kirkland

Tho I have been home nearly two weeks, I have not been able to open this book or write one thing that happened during my visit to the Island. A great deal took place that would have roused me and given me something pleasant to recall in old times, but now I feel very little interest in anything of the kind.

I remember very well the dining room at Virginia Springs that summer 1858. I was sitting at the table by Mr. John Izard Middleton when a gentleman came into the room with two young ladies. The Misses Taylor and the gentleman bowed to me Mr. Middleton and I returned the bow. I said, "Who is that young man?" That was young William Kirkland of Combahee.

Well, here a romance began. We were not married however until the 6th of April 1859 when I was twenty years old.

On account of our deep mourning, there were only six present in the parlor at my home, "Sandy Hill," where the home of Mrs. Graham is now situated (1923). (My father's home was moved and is now owned by Mr. Norton on Greene Street.) Mr. Kirkland's mother, Mrs. Nicholls(Mary Anna Lynah), Father, Cousin James, Cousin Mary Chesnut, Mary Boykin, afterwards Mrs. Tom Haile and little Margaret Samond. The Reverend Samuel Hay performed the ceremony. I was married in gray with a gray hat with black trimming, and a real black lace veil, which I have today, which I brought home from Europe. We were to go away after lunch to Rose Hill, Colleton County on the Combahee River, but on account of the flood in the river, were unable to leave on the train and were delayed until next morning. Cousin Mary and Cousin James Chesnut were unable to return to Mulberry. Cousin James was most anxious that the wedding take place in March but Mr. Kirkland preferred April because the country at Rose Hill was at its best in April with the live oaks feathering themselves with their new green and because the home was prepared for the bride and groom and would not be ready until that time. Cousin James had recently been elected Senator and was due in Washington the 4th of March. Cousin Mary thought it strange that the groom did not wish the wedding as soon as possible, but we had our reasons.

We were to spend the night at the Mills House in Charleston, Meeting Street. Our rooms were lovely although we were told the flowers were not as fresh as the day we were expected. We went on to Rose Hill in the morning, my future home. On the train, who should come up to speak to me but Mr. Elliot who said, "Isn't this Miss Withers? What are you doing here?"

We were the month of April at Rose Hill, a most beautiful old place. The avenue was a quarter of a mile from the gate which entered into the house of wood. On one side of Rose Hill lawn there was a Negro Church and a very effective gothic arch under these trees. Service was held regularly there, for Mrs. Nicholls was very religious and insisted upon there being devoted members of Church. On the other side of the Park was the cow minders house and pool, fourteen cows and two cow minders. The parlor opened from the dining room. The furniture was all covered and I recall that Cousin Mary Chesnut on a visit there, insisted that the covers be taken off so she could see what was under them. The covers were tan linen with a satin stripe bound with blue. The curtains were blue.

My double crown Derby set of china, a few pieces of which I still have (Oct. 1924) and all Kirkland silver, consisting of table silver, two sugar dishes and cram pot, wine Ratafia stand of burl, cut glass wine glasses with gilt and the four decanters which Mr. Kirkland bought at the sale of an Italian nobleman.

We returned the 10th of May because we could not be at Rose Hill in summer. I recall Mr. Kirkland told that Ransom Calhoun a great friend, was in the city and he was compelled to go to the club on Meeting Street to see him. I was provoked that he should leave me a bride, but old mammy Selina, who accompanied me everywhere said, "Lord, Miss Mary, de got to go where de friend is." I went to Miss Lizzie at the Mills House and told her not to tell Mr. Kirkland where I went. I told her I was going to the Hotel to see Father who was holding Court Appeals in the city and staying at a Hotel Stewart later occupied by the Confederate Home School. I went to be with Father and was introduced to all the Judges. I was not there more than half hour when in walked Mr. Kirkland. Miss Lizzie falsified!

We spent the month of June with Mother in Camden at Gander Hill. Later in the summer we went to New York and there Mr. Kirkland hired a barouche and a pair of horses and coachman. Father had given me six hundred dollars and we bought two dozen forks of shell pattern and my bedroom set of rosewood. Mr. Kirkland gave me a large silver water pitcher marked WLK, which will go to a grandson having those initials. Then we spent the rest of the summer at the Belle View Hotel at Newport and there we met so many people one knew. The William Lowndses, our neighbor, and General J. Bankhead, McGruder and he had a beautiful yacht. He gave a party for the bride but Mr. Kirkland would not let me go.

The Livingstones of New York were there. Our son, Thomas Jefferson Kirkland named for Father was born in Camden May 9, 1860. Mother insisted that I remain there where she could take care of the baby and we did not leave until November 10. Conditions were unsettled at that time between the North and South. The servants were different. The ones who were our friends as well as servants and we loved them dearly and their love for us seemed sincere.

Mother was with me at Rose Hill when Mr. Kirkland came from spending the day with Mr. William Henry Hayward. He was expected to lunch and did not come home until after lamp light. On account of the stirring conditions the men met and talked over affairs.

Letters to Sister Kate

Dear Kate

Mother is anxious to know how you get on without shoes? She says you must have a pair rather than go literally bare. See if Madame could procure you a pair at any price at all reasonable.

Francis still continues very sickly and her chances for ever doing work for us again seems yet very faint. I shall trust however to good nursing and a little to the Dr.

We have had several letters from Tanny. He seems content and promises to study.

Cousin Mary Chesnut wrote me a long interesting letter. She is helping nurse - enjoying herself - has been to see the McFarlands. I believe she mentioned having dined or tead with them. Did Fanny May ever write you? She gads the country over and seems very lively - too much so and few ever speak of her to anyone so that it can get to her ears - for her tongue is to be dreaded.

Tom shoots a bow and arrow like a little man - came running to me a moment ago exclaiming "Mama. I killed six birds." I asked to see them, then he seemed puzzled but said, "I didn't kill them dead cause they flew right away. " The little scamp tells the most uncalled for fibs. Marie is running about, would be more at her ease if I could procure shoes that fit her. Those she wears are too long and trip her up. We have to wait until Tuesday morning before your letter will come.

With love from mother and me.
Your affect. Mary

1863

The Civil War

1865-1925

"Kamchatka"

In Camden, Mary lived at "Kamchatka," originally a hunting lodge of her father Judge Withers. By selling off pieces of her silver and china, she managed to make ends meet. According to her son, Thomas Jefferson Kirkland, Mary maintained her interest in the affairs of the community, although some say she became a recluse: "Mrs. Kirkland used to receive from her father, even after her marriage, $2000 yearly as pin money and now her husband's property is also gone. Since his death, June'64, she has never left the house even to go to church and most of her time has been spent in her chamber." - Emma Holmes, November 10, 1865 Mary Miller Withers Kirkland died on November 7, 1925 at the age of 87.

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