“I Hope to God I Will See You Soon”
Twenty-nine-year-old confederate private Stephen D. Lord looked anxiously across the field in front of him. He knew this land, he had passed through here many times before, but this time was different. Just a few miles south, down the road toward Pleasant Hill, was his own farm. More importantly, somewhere out there was Union General Nathaniel Banks and his whole expeditionary force. Over twenty thousand experienced Union cavalry, infantry and artillerymen with supply trains stretched for twenty miles. Stephen looked down the line of his fellow rebels - a sad sight for sure - ragged clothes, shoes falling apart, limited ammunition. But… this was their land, their home, their life’s blood, and each of them was determined that no Yankee invader would have another inch of it! Here the remaining rebels, less than nine thousand in number, of Lt. General Richard Taylor’s Confederate army would make their stand! The day was April eighth, 1864.
What Stephen Lord didn’t know was where his family was, or how they fared. His young wife Martha and their four children, William, Jinny, Stephen L., and little Martin who had not even been born when Stephen left home almost two years before to fight for the cause, were somewhere out there; he hoped safe and far from the bloodshed that would soon follow.
Reportedly, a rider from Taylor’s command circuited the area on the seventh, warning the locals in harm’s way that Banks was advancing. Martha quickly gathered her children and drove their wagon to the nearby Dollette Hills where she hid them in a cave to wait out the coming storm of battle. It was not a minute too early, for a small artillery battle ended that night on Ten Mile Bayou by the Pleasant Hill Road, the very location of Stephen’s farm! Confederate troops maintained control of the little stream that night while Union General Banks’ correspondence tells us that he camped near there that night.
Earlier that day, Stephen had written a letter to his wife that expressed his love for her and their family and his great fear for their safety. The agony and uncertainty evident in his words are heartbreaking.
Mansfield, March (April) 7th, 1864
“My Dear and Loving Wife,
"It is this morning that I am blessed with the opportunity to write you a few lines to inform you that I am well at this time with the exception of an accident that happened to me yesterday. I was standing up by a fire in camp and some person fired off a gun about 300 yards from me. The ball glanced and hit me on the head and cut me to the skull. If it had not been for my hat being so thick, my dear wife, you would never see me alive any more, I am certain. My head is very sore today but I think I will be well in a few days so, dear Wife, I expect we will be down that way in a few days, and if we do, I am going to try to get a pass and come on ahead, for if I can be with you but one minute, I will be glad to stay that minute. My Dear Wife, I am the uneasiest man on earth. I understand that Green’s cavalry have been camped at Roberson’s Mill and at the Ten Mile Bayou ever since I left, and I understand that they took all of Lissia Carroll’s corn and burned up all his fence, and my dear Wife, I can’t tell you how bad troubled I am, for I am afraid that all of your meat and corn is gone. Send me word the first chance you get how you have gotten along with your meat and corn, and if you have not lost it, you had better get Vining to dig a hole in the ground and bury your meat so they can’t find it. I would have done it when I was there, but they would not give me time to do anything, Dear wife, send me word as soon as you can. I hope to God I will see you soon.”
“S.D. Lord”
[The Lord family occupied the Stephen Lord house for many years following his death. Sometime in the 1950’s the home was finally demolished. When the fireplace mantle was removed this letter fell from a crack between it and the wall. There it had been hidden for perhaps nearly a century… lost long years before.]
There is something compelling about these short and simple words written 143 years ago. An excerpt from them has appeared in Southern Living and Louisiana Life Magazines. The respected historian, Arthur Bergeron, quotes from them in a presentation he does on Gray’s Brigade at Mansfield. They have been published in their entirety in local histories of DeSoto Parish. Today the original letter is on display in the Mansfield Battle Park Museum. To me, I suppose, they still speak so compassionately because they are the only recorded words of my great-great grandfather.
The “when I was there” Stephen wrote of, was actually only five days earlier, as the Confederate forces were retreating from the oncoming, numerically superior forces of the Union army as it snaked up the Red River on its way to Shreveport. It was a part of Bank’s plan to tear Louisiana in half, confiscating its incredibly valuable stores of cotton, and wrenching Texas from the foundling southern confederation. It was a plan that originated all the way back in Washington by no one less than Abraham Lincoln himself.
No doubt, as the rebel army had retreated through Mansfield days before, Stephen must have been torn in his heart to leave behind his family and home to the peril approaching them. General Taylor’s orders were to take his band of nine-thousand worn and weary soldiers to Shreveport and join up with his commander, General Kirby Smith, and his reserve forces to make a final stand there. Native Louisianan Taylor, son of former president, Zachary Taylor, could not bear it. As he passed through Mansfield he realized that if the advancing juggernaut made it to the Sabine Crossroads all chances of stopping their advance to Shreveport would be lost. He made a plan of his own, a plan to make a strategic stand at Mansfield. And so, only five days later, he advanced… back through the fearful little town to cheers and celebration as the band played Dixie and the women threw garlands before them.
Stephen was no stranger to battle by this time. Traveling with the famous Crescent Regiment (later the Consolidated Crescent) in General Alfred Mouton’s division, he had fought at Georgia Landing near Labadieville, Grand River, and Fort Bisland. In the days leading up to the battle of Mansfield, from some accounts, the Crescent along with other regiments had skirmished with the leading edge of the Union forces in an attempt to slow their march.
So, there they stood, looking, waiting, and anticipating. The day wore on as the first small groups of the blue clad army exited the forest before them and began busily preparing their defenses at the uncertain sight of the half-hidden rebel lines. Taylor was under orders not to mount an attack unless first set upon by the enemy. He tried to abide by the “bridle” as he called it, but after repeated skirmishes he had hoped would bring a full scale attack by the Federals failed, his patience wore thin. He personally rode past Mouton’s Louisiana troops and told them, “as they were fighting in defense of their own soil I wished [them] to draw the first blood.” At four o’clock on the evening of the eighth he realized that he could wait no longer. The command was given and Mouton’s inspired native sons rose from position and with a yell that later Northern accounts said was enough to dishearten even the most seasoned veteran, they charged with a fury. What followed, some historians say, should be ranked with Pickett’s Charge in the history of bravery.
Some who have studied the battle at Mansfield say that it was the Consolidated Crescent that led the charge that hot April day. In the next fifteen minutes the regiment lost almost half of its men. Seven colors bearers fell one after another, all its field officers were killed, and Mouton himself was shot from his horse and died instantly. Somewhere in that rain of canister, grape shot and lead, Stephen Lord fell among the brave and determined who stood for their home and families.
Shortly thereafter the Union lines broke and fled in panic. The narrow road leading away from Mansfield to Pleasant Hill was choked with fleeing Billy Yanks, throwing away weapons, supplies and anything that would slow them. Teamsters driving the Union supply wagons cut their horses from the wagons and left artillery, guns, ammunition, food and clothing where they were. Although the following day, the Union forces were able to recover and win the battle at Pleasant Hill, the Battle of Mansfield had been so complete a Southern victory that the indecisive Banks retreated all the way to Alexandria and the Red River Campaign was abandoned. Louisiana’s bravest had made their stand!
There is a family story that says an officer by the name of Thigpen, who also was from Mansfield, saw Stephen Lord fall. He may have gotten word to Martha, for on the morning after the battle Martha saddled the family horse and, taking her nine-year old son William, rode to the battlefield. There they found the body of Stephen and stopped a burial detail from putting his body in a mass grave. His body was unrecognizable because of a fatal head wound, and she was able to identify him only by the socks she had made… perhaps given to him only days before when he passed by their farm. Riding back to her children, she harnessed the horse to their wagon and returned alone for his body. He was later buried in the Grove Hill Cemetery near their home.
I am not sure, but I suspect that she probably found his loving letter on his body. Written only the day before, it is doubtful there had been enough time to send it. If you examine the letter today in the museum you can see small brown spots that appear to be bloodstains. His fears for his family’s provisions were well founded. When Martha returned her children to their home, all was gone. There was no food or livestock; even the bedding had been removed. Only one hen that had been nesting in a barrel remained. When a federal straggler suddenly showed at her door demanding a cup of water, Martha told him there were no cups or utensils remaining to offer him. In anger he shot her dog standing by her side. How she fed her children in the midst of her grief and fear can only be imagined.
I have seen recorded copies of town meetings held after the battle that tell of the Mansfield Ladies Aid Society and the town government providing for the widows of the local soldiers killed that day. Perhaps Martha was one of them who benefited from their kind generosity; we may never know. One thing we may be sure of, she was as brave as her husband Stephen and they were equally a part of making this state, as well as this country, the great and free land that it is today… and perhaps on a smaller scale but of no less importance to me, they made a family that has endured for generations.
Descendents of Stephen D. and Martha J. Lord
Front Row: None of the children are known
Second Row (Seated):
3rd from left – William Thomas Lord (as a nine year old boy found his father Stephen dead on the field of battle)
4th from left – Bruce Lord
8th from left – Ruby Lord
3rd Row (Seated):
7th from left – Minta Lord Taylor
9th from left – Jim Taylor
4th Row (Standing):
2nd from left – Braxton Lord
4th from left – Jeb S. Lord Sr.
7th from left – William T. Lord Jr.
(The family would appreciate any information on the identity of the remaining members in the photo.)
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