Corn Silk Days: Iowa, 1862

by Linda Pendleton

  Halstead walked to his desk, sat in his chair and leaned back into it with a deep sigh. He said to Benjamin, “Well, son, I once told Lincoln back in ‘62 I didn’t think the Union could win the war from the way it was looking. But he did it.”

  “Looks like it now with Lee surrendering. Should be basically over as soon as word gets around and Davis is captured or gotten rid of,” Benjamin said.

  “Henry Villard, a fellow correspondent, had given the President some unhappy news of the situation with General Ambrose Burnside’s Army at Fredericksburg, and not long after I gave Salmon Chase and then Lincoln my observations.”

  “And what was that?”

  “The same as Villard, only he told the President that winning the war was ‘impossible.’ But I, too, didn’t think the Union could win at that point. But old Abe had a different idea. He had told Villard, ‘I hope it is not so bad as all that.’ He seemed to take the news in stride and it sure never stopped his determination to keep the Union together. He was quite a man, yes he was.”

  “I wonder if they got the person who assassinated him.”

  “I don’t know, Benjamin, but they will get the sonabitch and when they do they can string him up or put him before the firing squad. Yes, sir. That’s what they can do.”

  Benjamin said, “We knew he had enemies but I sure didn’t expect anything like this to happen.”

  Halstead frowned and shrugged. “Well damn, it did. We now have old Andy Johnson in charge as the President of the United States. Maybe it’s good this came at the ending of the war and not earlier. It seems like Lincoln put in his time for the best for our Union.”

  Chapter Sixty-four: Friday, the 5th Day of May 1865

  Blakely, Alabama

  Dear wife,

  I take the present opportunity to write you a few lines to inform you I am well but I am lame in my right arm. It was caused by throwing a shell. I was marked off duty today on account of it. My arm is getting better. This is the first time I have been off duty for nigh two years.

  Well Jane, it has been some time since I have had a letter from you but I must not complain if I cannot get a letter every week because I have not written to you as I should have done but I can excuse myself very easy. I think you will look over it. The reason is I was scarce on paper and I did not know how soon I could get any paper. But I have money at last and I can write to you whenever I feel like so doing. We were paid for the ten months the other day. Well the money looked very nice to me. It has been one year save three days since we got any pay. I have not sent any money yet and do not know when I will. The rumor is now that we will go to New Orleans soon. If that is the case I will keep my money until we get there. It will not cost me as much to send and then will not be in danger of torpedoes. If we don’t go to New Orleans soon I will try and go to Mobile and express it from there. We are eight miles from Mobile and I have not been there yet. Some of the boys have been over and they say it is a very nice place.

  I just got an order to move in the early morning. I understand it is to Mobile. Goodbye my dear.

  Saturday the 6th. We have not moved yet. Our transportation has not arrived.

  Well, Janie, when I heard of the death of Lincoln it appeared to me that I had lost one of my mightiest friends. He was the soldiers’ best friend, but he had done enough in this world and the kind hand of Providence called him home to live in peace.

  I have seen a great many Rebel soldiers. Here they take the oath and go home. I have seen some of General Lee’s men going through here and they are very glad to get home. They say they will not fight the Yankees again but they will fight the bushwhackers. There is a company of Militia organizing here and some Rebel soldiers belong to it, and they are going to protect the country.

  Well Janie, I was appointed treasure of the Iowa Soldiers Orphan Asylum for Company K. Our company did not go into it very deep but by the last account, our regiment was ahead.

  Our regiment is made up of as honest and as splendid a set of men I have ever seen. They are in for helping the orphans of our soldiers all they can. I hope they will be rewarded for it.

  It is now Friday, May 12th and we are camped near Mobile.

  I received your letter marked the 27th of April and it was read with pleasure. Nothing pleases me better than to hear you are all well but I have sorrow to think that you are uneasy about me for I have got through safe thus far. I presume you heard before this about the capture of Mobile and the casualties of our regiment. I have written to you about it before and probably you have received those letters. I hope at any rate you know that I am not hurt by the Rebs at this place and from all accounts there will not be much danger anymore on this side at least. I have faith to believe it.

  You think that the assassination of Lincoln has made dark hours in the North. Well, I presume it did. It looked dark in the South and a great deal darker to the Rebs because they think their “best friend” was killed, but Johnson has followed his footsteps with the exception of more stringent orders and that is what the soldiers want to hear and the Rebel leaders think their necks are in more danger in Johnson’s hands than if Lincoln had lived. But since that time, how things have changed. Darkness has very nigh gone and I can see daylight approaching. I think that the fighting is over at any rate on this side and our glorious Country will again be united with stronger feeling than ever.

  Your husband, Silas

  We parted with a cheerful smile,

  When last I pressed her hand,

  To follow to the battlefield

  The Banner of our land.

  Her glowing glance in memory

  Unceasingly will burn.

  For well I know she will bestow

  The same when I return.

  When gazing at the glimmering stars,

  And resting on the ground,

  While soldiers, wearied by the march,

  Are slumbering around,

  How oft, to hold that little hand,

  And hear her vows I yearn,

  For well I know she will bestow

  The same when I return.

  -Silas

  Chapter Sixty-five: Rachel

  Rachel Storm had always known her husband, Michael, had some deep seated problem with Benjamin. She had never been sure what it had been. He had welcomed his children with joy, although she had known he had not wanted children at one time prior to their marriage.

  The death of their young son Henry had been difficult and she often felt it brought up Michael’s mourning over his siblings and mother’s deaths. It was something he never wanted to talk about so Rachel had tried to respect that over these many years.

  She had not wanted to think that Michael was putting the blame of Henry’s drowning on his son, Benjamin, although the thought had occurred to her more than once. And he often went through periods of sadness and depression, and even anger.

  She also was aware that he would drink heavily when he went away. She abhorred drinking but never chose to confront him on the issue. When he returned his clothes would smell of liquor and smoke. But they also carried the scent of a woman.

  So Rachel had known he needed time away to escape the feelings he had buried. Each time he left on his trip, Rachel would pray that he could find the peace he needed and would return home safely.

  Now that his anger at his son, Benjamin, had been admitted and resolved, she prayed that he would no longer have to go away for a few days to “refresh” himself. She also prayed that the Lord would forgive his sins.

  These last weeks he had been a much happier man, and she thanked the Lord for that.

  But she now was praying for her own health.

  The waves of nausea came again and she put her face over the bucket but nothing came up, only dry heaves that cramped her stomach. As soon as the nausea let up she again lay on the bed, pulling the quilt up around her.

  She had been fighting this for several hours and she hoped Michael would be home soon. Her fever was higher, and she had gone ba
ck and forth from chills to sweat.

  She knew it was getting worse and was beginning to become uncomfortable being at home alone.

  She dozed off to sleep and when she awoke, Michael was standing beside the bed.

  “You having a bad time, Rachel? I see the vomit bucket here.”

  “Yes, it has not been a good day,” she told him.

  He reached over and put his hand on her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  “I know. I think my fever went up higher. I want the quilt and then I don’t want it.”

  “Let me get some cold wet rags for you.” He looked at the half empty glass sitting on the bedside table. “Have you been drinking water?”

  “Not much, it won’t stay down.”

  Michael slept little that night, half alert to Rachel’s every move. He had lowered her fever a bit, giving her some barley–water with lemon juice to drink and had it stayed down.

  But when the sun came up and the roosters could be heard, Rachel’s fever was still with her and she was hallucinating some, and the one thing in between her illogical comments was her asking for Benjamin.

  Michael had to get the doctor to come and to get a message to his son that his mother was ill and wanted to see him. He would get someone to go to the telegraph office in town and send a message to Cincinnati in hopes Benjamin would come.

  Two days later, Benjamin arrived at his mother’s bedside. Although he found his mother to be weak, her fever had broken and she seemed to be much better, according to his father.

  Michael told him, “Your Mama gave us quite a scare. The doctor couldn’t do much for her and said it really was up to her to get well and he wasn’t too sure she would.”

  “Well, what kind of doctoring is that?” Benjamin asked as he squeezed his mother’s hand.

  “Doctor Northland stopped by earlier today and said she will be fine now,” Michael added.

  “Well, Mama you need to eat what you can now,” Benjamin said. “You don’t want to have to stay in that bed too much longer, it drains you as much as having the sickness does.”

  “I’ll be fine, son. I’m glad you’re here. Your daddy got pretty worried, I know. Even with my fever and craziness I knew he was pretty worried.”

  “Ah, heck Rachel, I knew you’d be fine. But you kept asking to see Benjamin. So I obliged and sent for him.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Michael,” she said.

  “Well, I’ll be here for a few days,” Benjamin told her. “I told my boss, Mr. Halstead I wouldn’t be away too long and would try to write up some news stories while I’m here.”

  Benjamin had something else on his mind besides his mother’s well-being and stories to write for the Cincinnati Daily, and he knew coming home would stir up those thoughts he had been trying very hard to suppress.

  He had not come back for James Garrison’s funeral when he heard about his death. He did not come home out of respect for Lucinda, but also out of respect for James.

  He knew it would have been difficult not being able to comfort Lucinda. In fact, he thought he probably could not comfort her at all. After all, she did love her husband. Her actions had shown that.

  But now it had been several months and he had a decision to make soon before he went back to Cincinnati.

  He wanted to see Lucinda, but he was in conflict. Seeing her would bring all his feelings to the surface, and in doing so, pain comes along with those feelings. And if he then had to walk away, he did not know if he wanted to take more pain with him on his journey.

  Pain. Damn the pain, he thought. Seems he would be used to it being a part of him after all these years.

  But, no, he was not. He still found ways to bury it, previously with alcohol, lately with work, and even with a little sex.

  But as always, those things never took the pain away of not having Lucinda.

  Chapter Sixty-six: Friday, the 26th Day of May 1865

  Camp 23rd Iowa near Mobile, Alabama

  Dear wife,

  I take this present opportunity to write you and let you know I am well and enjoying myself the best I can. We are still in the old camp and not knowing how long we will be here.

  The 20th Wisconsin Regiment belonging to our brigade has got mustering out papers. I understand they are to be discharged the second day of June. Our officers have orders to square up their books ready for mustering out on the 15th of June. And then we will start for Iowa.

  There is to be a grand review of the troops here in a few days. Our time is not very long if we have to serve it out. You need not look for me until you see me coming and then you can look, for things are uncertain in the army. From what I can tell I think we will be home by the Fourth of July or on the road at least. The shorter the time we have to serve, the longer it seems to be. Every day that rolls around makes me want to see you more and more. I long to see the time when I get home, so we can have some more pleasures. I would love to see all of you, my dear.

  General Andrews reviewed us and said we would have one more review before we go home. I understand the review is to take place on old General Jackson Battleground at New Orleans. I presume this is a flying report for I have not seen it in the papers and if it was that would not confirm it unless the commanding general’s name was at the bottom. It is reported to take place on June 1, and if so we may then go home.

  Well Jane, time is moving slow for me. We are four miles south of Mobile. It is a very nice camp but very lonesome to me. We are on the Shell road and there is a great deal of travel on the road but it does not interest me. I see a great many of the soldiers pleasure riding with the ladies of Mobile. I am glad to see soldiers enjoying themselves.

  Yesterday, a little after 2 o’clock in the afternoon one of the most saddest accidents happened in Mobile since the war began. An explosion of ammunition that was stored in a cotton press in the upper part of the city. There was about two hundred ton of ammunition, a large quantity of powder and a great deal of fixed shell for large cannons. Fixed shell is shell that is filled and primed ready for use. The ammunition was being removed and a soldier accidentally dropped a percussion shell and it exploded and set fire to the powder and it exploded destroying about half of the city and three or four boats. Eight blocks were all destroyed, tearing down buildings, hardly leaving one brick upon another and setting fire to a great many buildings. About eight square blocks making thirty-two blocks was more or less damaged, and the transport USS Colonel Cowles was set on fire and burned up.

  The Cate Dale was blown to pieces by the concussion in the air and two more boats destroyed that I cannot name.

  Up to this morning about two hundred persons dead and more wounded have been taken out from the buildings and rubbish that is throughout the city. No one can tell how many more will be found. A great many of our soldiers were quartered in cotton presses nigh the place where the explosion took place and the buildings were thrown down on them and killed and wounded the majority of them. People that have seen the destruction say it is the horriblest they ever have seen. Men, women and children were hurt. Some with their legs and arms broken, some with their legs and arms torn off. Men were killed a mile from where the explosion took place. Men were killed but not a scratch to be seen on their person. The concussion in the air is what did the damage to the city. I never heard such a report in my life. Shells are exploding yet this morning. It is supposed that about two or three thousand souls have been hurt and the loss to the city is estimated at ten million ($10,000,000) of dollars.

  That is about one third of the ammunition surrendered by General Dick Taylor. It massed a train of cars that was standing ready to go out. Considerable of the property destroyed was government property.

  Well Jane, this is the morning of the 27th. The reason I did not finish my letter yesterday was that Downs and I went to the city to see the destruction. I never saw a town so badly injured in my life. It is worse than any place we have seized. There were not many White soldiers hurt. No regiment of White soldiers wa
s covered up in the ruins as was the first report. The two Negro companies that were at work with the ammunition was all destroyed. Downs and I went to the place the ammunition was before exploding as we could see the smoke. Shells were still and continue to burst this morning.

  While we were there we saw a human of some kind. His lower extremities were all gone as high as the upper part of his hips, both arms gone, his head gone except for one ear. I presume it probably was a Negro but he was so badly burned that you could not tell. He had cotton sticking to the skin which gave it the appearance of a part of a sheep. But by close examination you could tell it had been a human.

  A sentinel said that a shell exploded about two seconds before the great explosions. A great deal of cotton was destroyed also but the fire engines are at work trying to squelch the fire as fast as possible. I saw a woman that was very uneasy. She was watching the cotton in one building especially, and apparently it belonged to her. A great deal of the cotton belonged to individuals and it was their only way of making any thing at present.

  Well Jane, it is now the 28th and I will finish the letter. I am now a sergeant. I drank a quart of buttermilk this morning at breakfast and it cost me ten cents. I thought it was excellent. I have had all the blackberries that I could eat several times but they are not as good here as they are in the North.

  Yesterday a circular came to the brigade headquarters from General Granger announcing the surrender of General Kirby Smith. I presume it is so. Now some say with his surrender we may not get home so soon, but I think we will get home just as soon.

  Your affectionate husband, Silas

  Chapter Sixty-seven: Reflections