Illustrated, photographs, bibliography, index, 344 pp., 2010, University Press of Kentucky, www.kentuckypress.com, $34.95.

How should we care for our aging veterans? The question was just as important a hundred years ago as it is today. Although the federal government built a number of homes for Union veterans in the decades following the war, the establishment and operation of homes for Confederate veterans remained the responsibility of individual states. 

By the turn of the 20th century, thousands of indigent Confederate veterans in Kentucky were in desperate need of a place to live. The story of the establishment and operation of the Kentucky Confederate Home — “the final chapter of Kentucky’s Civil War history” — is the subject of this worthwhile study.

In an incredibly short span of time, Kentucky ex-Confederates managed to secure political support and funding for their home. Legislation establishing the facility was signed in March 1902. After the purchase of a bankrupt resort hotel just 16 miles from Louisville, the home was dedicated that October.

Although practically destroyed in an accidental fire in March 1920, the refuge was quickly rebuilt and continued to house veterans until 1934.

If My Old Confederate Home merely recounted the operational history of the facility, with such details as the residents’ pastimes and activities of the residents, the facility’s rules and regulations and the institution’s financial woes, it would definitely be worth reading.

However, Rusty Williams exceeds expectations and weaves those details into a series of fascinating character studies. In chapters with titles like “The Socialite and the Editor,” “The Trainer and the Undertaker” and “The Fiddlers and the Indian Agent,” readers can immerse themselves in well-researched profiles of some of the home’s “inmates,” residents, administrators, supporters and visitors.

Colorful personalities abound in this book. Men like John T. Jones, a crippled Confederate cavalryman and horse trainer who helped rescue his comrades during the 1920 fire, exemplified the best of the home’s residents. Others, such as William S. Gray, a heavy drinker who threatened both a fellow resident and a minister with his knife and faced a “court-martial,” represented the home’s more problematic occupants.

Administrators were no less interesting. Fellow veteran and Home Commandant William Oscar Coleman was a complex man, who, plagued by tight budgets and unruly residents, transformed the home from “a comfortable lodging place with bountiful meals and an accommodating household staff to a chilly military institution . . . crowded with bored and disgruntled old men.”

Unique women appear occasionally in the Kentucky Confederate Home story as well, including stereotypical “Southern belles” like Lizzie Duke. A wealthy widow, New York socialite and the grandniece of Gen. John Bell Hood, Lizzie donated funds to build a much-needed assembly hall on the grounds. In reality, the generous “lady” was a notorious prostitute and the madam of several Dallas brothels who made a fortune by selling her properties.

If you are stuck in a rut reading “drums and bugles” Civil War history, you should try My Old Confederate Home. This interesting tale of late-19th-century Kentucky politics, the workings of Civil War veterans’ organizations, and the careers of institutionalized Civil War veterans is sure to hold your attention.

 
Reviewer: Jeff Patrick

Jeff Patrick is an interpretive specialist with the National Park Service at Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield in Republic, Mo. He holds B.A. and M.A. degrees in American history from Purdue University.