Kate Stone is one of my favorite Civil War diarists. She is an admixture of a great privilege, passionate beliefs, lover of literature, keen social observations and amazing fortitude. Her Civil War was dangerous, turbulent and life changing.

Brokenburn was a large plantation containing over 150 slaves in Madison Parish, LA. From 1862 on, it was in the center of the Union Army's fierce assault to gain control of the Mississippi River and divide the Confederacy in half. Plantations were commandeered and slaves were encouraged to revolt. The civilian population was helpless before the demands of military control. Madison Parish had a population of approximately 9,000 of whom 7,000 were slaves. After 1861, the Parish was emptied of able-bodied white men, most of whom had been sent to far-off Virginia and Tennessee, leaving none to protect the civilians.

In 1861, Kate was 20 years old, her immediate future being beaus, courtship, and a gay social life before she settled down to become a proper southern matron. She was unsure whether this route was ideal, as she remarked, "women grew significantly uglier in wedlock and ignored and abandoned their former female friends." This comfortable world was turned upside down, never to reappear again. With great enthusiasm and some trepidation, she watched her three older brothers go off to war. Her widowed mother made it clear that 14-year-old James was now in charge of the running of the plantation and the protection of the rest of the family. I was amazed at the serene assumption that a young teenager was thrust in this role, but it seems that was the custom of the times. If you had to grow up fast, you did. Yellow fever was a constant in the area, and longevity was not a norm. Both Generals Grant and Lee wanted their troops out of these areas during "the seasons of pestilence." This was not to be, and both armies suffered devastating losses to disease. Kate treated the "fever season" as a fact of life, and planned around it with remarkable briskness.

By 1862, the Stone family was desperate. The Federal leadership demanded that they stay on their property; yet there were serious slave insurrections that threatened the lives of the plantation holders. Those slaves who were not hostile were running off, and there was no labor to farm the crops. Many southerners could not believe that their "loyal" slaves would run away. Kate was not among them, saying, "If I were in their place, I'd do the same." She was by no means sympathetic, just practical.

The family finally escaped through the bayous in a rickety canoe with nothing, not even underwear, and finally made it across the border into Texas. They were refugees along with many other prominent Louisiana families. Kate was convinced they had arrived at "a dark corner of the Confederacy." Upon noting the barefoot but hoop skirted frontier ladies, she sniffed "there must be something in the air of Texas fatal to beauty."

Kate agonized over the increasingly bad war news and was devastated by Lee's surrender. Kate is one of the most vivid, perceptive diarists of the Civil War. Her diary is one of social history, a time of calamitous change and invaluable for understanding this crucial time in American history. Kate is a natural writer and observer. A highly enjoyable read.

Hammond is not a nice guy. He married for money, was not a great father, and campagined for elected office at time when no one else did and against the 'party' candidate to boot. Most interesting of all was his commitment to the Confederate cause but resistance to the call for material and manpower to help the cause. In the end, he could not believe it when his slaves were jubilant about the prospect of freedom. Through Hammond's eyes we see the south changed forever by the Civil War, not only due to the lost of their slaves but also by the unsouthern actions the Confederate government had to take and how they affected the southern way of life. Hammond is not a nice guy but this very readable book provides an excellent insight to the antebellum southern mind.

Historically, Southern women have been type-case as fragile, codependent, incapable, overgrown children. Growing up in the South, it was always difficult to find role models from local history, or in the mass media.

"Mothers of Invention" shows us otherwise. It was amazing and inspiring to read about the struggles and revelations of these women. It touched me deeply, to think about the courage and strength it took for a previously sheltered woman to learn to take on more responsibility in a society that told her that her place was at home.

This book shows Southern women as gutsy and brave, a little like Scarlett O'Hara's spirit when she vowed, "I'll never be hungry again!"

In "Mothers of Invention," Drew Gilpin Faust explores the ways in which the Civil War transformed traditional gender roles among middle- and upper-class southern women. Gilpin theorizes that Confederate women certainly were aware of the effect that government policies had on their lives-even if the leaders, at times, were not-and that women's views conscription, home defense, economic production and slavery influenced and, ultimately, undermined their support for the war.

Her key point seems to be that the war overturned the "social contract" in which elite women accepted subordination and dependence for male protection and privilege. Although men were off protecting their homes in the abstract sense, women were left to deal with the day-to-day realities of food shortages and an invading army occupying their homes.

Narrowing exceptions to the draft, the military's refusals to grant furloughs in times of great family need, and government policies regarding food requisitions especially galled women. Faust puts a particularly interesting gender perspective on the draft exemption for those owning 20+ slaves. Normally, this exemption is viewed solely in class terms: "Rich man's war, poor man's fight." Faust, however, brings attention to the fear that white women experienced being left alone to manage large slave populations without a man's help. Women feared murder and uprisings from a slave population that was growing increasingly rebellious. The priority ultimately given to equitably treating draft-age white men and the burden of managing slaves led to a decline in women's support for the slave system and for the Confederacy, she argues.

In addition to slave management, Faust explores other ways in which the war caused elite white women to step into traditional male roles. From the very beginning, secession and the war led to much greater involvement by women in the public sphere. Although politics had been considered the province of men, secession was a topic that no one could stop discussing-women included. The banding together of women to support the war effort also proved a new experience for southern women. Unlike their northern sisters, southern women typically had not been involved in social organizations before the war.

Faust's book includes a fascinating discussion about attitudes toward the refugee experience. In particular, she notes that becoming a refugee was the civilian equivalent of buying a substitute for the draft. A refugee, the term implied, had the money and connections to make a planned departure from home-often to protect property. In support of this view, she cites the diary of Mary Lee of Winchester, who disdained the term refugee in favor of "displaced person" to describe those fleeing with little in the face of the enemy.

"Mothers of Invention" contains one of the most interesting analyses of the hoop skirt that I have seen. Faust notes that the trend for full skirts, ultimately supported by hoops, coincided with the Victorian ideals of domesticity and women's separate sphere. The caged crinoline or hoop offered women a portable enclosed private space and the wide skirts symbolized a circle in which women were protected. In an era where upper-class women's sexuality was repressed, the style also hid and reformed female anatomy. The conspicuous consumption of fabric and the difficulty performing physical labor in these skirts made a class statement as well.

"Mothers of Invention" provides a good overview of the different ways that the war affected southern women's lives, including changes within the household, relations between husbands and wives, paid employment outside the home, the likelihood that young women would remain single due to the deaths of so many young men, religious views on the war, increased educational opportunities for women, dealing with Yankee men, etc. Her accessible writing style and use of interesting quotes and numerous pictures make this a relatively quick read. The book is well-organized with subheadings that make locating important points quite easy.

For those interested in exploring the southern woman's war experience, this book would be a good starting point for gaining some good general knowledge. Readers should keep in mind, however, that Faust is focusing on elite and middle-class women, and that the experiences and attitudes she describes do not reflect the lives of lower-class women.

The subject matter is hard to find a book on, much less a good read, thus this book is a rarity, and it is very very well done.

It's a very trustworthy read with no opinionated ego trips and an amazing amount of information. Drew Faust is the queen of primary sources. Everything you read by her is straight from an original. She truly does her research, then puts it in a form that is a delightful and captivating read. I found "Mother of Invention" to not only be incredibly informative (you'll learn quite a bit in one sentence) but and outstanding book that I vied to pick up even more than a novel.

There's something incredibly satisfying in reading a research book and actually really remembering it because you liked it.

I thought that this book was wonderful, it's content was direct and to the point while still telling a wonderful story of this woman's struggles of keeping secrect among the Union soldiers. I love this story and I would recomend it to anyone that has an inerest in the Civil War.

When I discovered Drew Gilpin Faust's edition of Augusta evans's novel, _Macaria; or Altars of Sacrifice_ while working on a college research paper, I was excited to find an example of the writing of a woman I had read brief mentions of in various books and an example of fiction published in the South during the Civil War. Although Evans's writing is flawed, as was pointed out even during her lifetime, when writing was often more flowery, by occasional digressions to show off Evans's learning--as when one of the duel heroines has been observing the stars through her telescope and muses on astronomical history--Evans's story is compelling and valueable. The story concerns two heroines living in Mobile, where Evans lived by this time: Irene Huntingdon, who has been raised in luxury but seeks to be strong and to find meaning in her life instead of simply spending her time and her father's wealth on fashion and shallow socializing, and Irene's poorer, artistic friend, Electra Grey, with whom Irene remains friends despite both a longstanding grudge that Irene's father holds against Electra's family and Irene and Electra's enduring love for the same man. Faust explains in the introduction that a Union general banned his soldiers' reading of _Macaria_, which had been republished by her antebellum New York publisher soon after its publication; while Evans's southern characters often showed too much materialism, snobbery, and insensitivity to make the South seem like an unquestionably superior region, her refusal to write as if she accepted the by then explicit northern view of slavery as a centrally important issue in the war and her portrayal of her central characters' personal growth do give strong signs of why the general who banned it might have worried that it would weaken some people's commitment to restore the union and to accept the view of the war, promoted by the time of its publication, as a fight against slavery. A final reason for _Macaria_'s value is its resolution of the question of women's role in the South, regardless of class, at least as viewed in the emergency period of the civil War; _Macaria_ does not end with the usual conventions of nineteenth-century domestic novels, and Faust's introduction provides some mixed contemporary southern reactions to the way in which Evans chose to end her heroines' story.

This book tlls all about how people lived in the early times... from free blacks to slave blacks... and from slave blacks to slaveholders... great information... especiall for doing research stories...!!

This little book is interesting, yet it seems to be hampered by its short format. As a result, the author does not seem wholly successful in describing a Confederate national consciousness . Basically, she argues that notions of evangelicalism, republicanism, and slavery merged into a national ideology; more significantly, she makes a good case that the contradictions within these ideological components effectively tore apart any widespread consensus by the war's end. Certainly, evangelicalism played an important role as Southern ministers became forceful speakers on the justification for war and, later, on the reasons for Southern defeat. Republicanism was a growing source of friction in Dixie in the years leading up to the war, often pitting planters against yeoman whites as elements of the market economy crept into Southern life. Faust's points on republicanism do little to explain a consensus among all whites in favor of Confederate support, though. Many planters attempted to tighten their control of political power in this era, and Faust seems to say they essentially tried to dupe or otherwise talk yeomen whites out of proactive political participation. There is not enough evidence presented here to accurately portray the relationship between different classes of whites. This point also relates to her proposition that a pro-slavery ideology pervaded the entire South and effectively brought about the War for Southern Independence. Faust does not explain why yeoman whites forgot the friction (particular in terms of economics) they increasingly felt during the late antebellum years for slaves and jumped immediately on a proslavery bandwagon. Basically, this book suffers from a common fault prevalent in studies of Southern history--it ignores or passes over the significant political differences between rich and poor whites throughout the South in an effort to brand slavery as the principal cause of the conflict.

Much of Faust's material is anecdotal, and while she does reference her sources extensively in the index (sadly stuck by itself at the back of the book), the constant quotes from "a planter," "a soldier's wife," or "a Methodist minister in North Carolina" are not placed in sufficient context and thus give the impression that the South was a hegemonic, monolithic entity wherein all white men thought alike. The source of this book is a series of lectures, and I feel that hampers the author's arguments--it never allows her to dig below the surface or argue her points to any great depth. Certainly, though, the subject of Confederate nationalism is a subject begging for more study. The topic is so intricate, though, that only a thick monograph filled with detailed argument can adequately address it.