FRIENDS OF THE WIGWAM: A Civil War Story

by John William Huelskamp

  Will, Aaron, and T.J. approached the Indian oak. They locked their hands together in a tight grip to support their portly friend. Trick then placed his boot in their grip as if putting a foot in the stirrup of a saddle.

  “You hold on now, Trick,” T.J. advised calmly. “We will boost you up about three feet so that you can walk the bow like a cat. Keep your hands and feet to the center.”

  Trick grabbed the tree. “Heave ho!” he shouted.

  He ascended in one motion to his place of security. The bend of the trunk now made it easier to safely reach a branch. He proceeded cautiously over the bowed trunk, placing each hand and boot tip in motion together.

  “Well, Allie, hee, hee…it’s a might high up in these high places. I can almost see the White House from here!”

  Allie laughed.

  “I’m gonna git you the biggest oak leaf here for good ol’ Elmer,” he said nervously, his voice cracking a little. “Gotta hang on now.”

  Allie cupped her hands around her mouth and replied, “Trick, I’ll be patient if you just hang on!”

  More chuckles echoed across the gently swirling water.

  Trick was squarely over the river now, about twenty feet below the bough. He could see an occasional twig or branch float by at a slow pace, and was confident of his success; so proud now—he was the first of the friends to scale the rugged Indian oak.

  “Well, Miss Allie, I can see a good one right above this branch here.” Trick squinted at the prized oak leaf before him and then quickly looked up at the branch he would need to grasp firmly to secure the prize. He looked down at the river again.

  “Lordy, it’s a stretch up here!” he shouted. “I will stand up now and get it.”

  “Be careful, Trick,” Allie warned.

  Trick reached up, grabbed the branch, and picked the big oak leaf. Holding the branch, he turned to the friends proudly.

  Standing erect like a soldier himself, he announced, “I ’spect ol’ Elmer will be proud to wear this oak leaf straight from the river he hunted and fished before he became famous.”

  The friends clapped.

  “Hee, hee.” Trick chuckled with glee. “I ’spect comin’ down is easy. I best turn around here and git goin’ the other way. Yep, I’ll just turn around here like this and git my chicken feet movin’ again.”

  Suddenly the branch Trick was holding snapped with a loud crack, like a bolt of lightning had hit the trunk. Down he went. Jenny screamed, and Allie gasped. Trick’s large torso was framed by his rapidly gyrating arms and legs. He belly flopped into the water with a loud splash. Alarmed squirrels scurried away in the canopy above.

  The friends raced to the riverbank.

  In a moment a hat emerged through the water, followed by the familiar flapping of arms, which caused rolling rings in the river. Soon, a head followed the hat, and Trick moved quickly, dog-paddling to a dry stretch of the muddy shoreline.

  “Are you OK?” Allie called out with her usual concern.

  “Hee, hee, I’m just fine, Miss Allie. I didn’t wanna run your patience too thin, so I took the quick way down!”

  The friends laughed with relief.

  Trick worked his way to the bank with hat and oak leaf in hand and handed the big oak leaf to Allie. “Here you go, Miss Allie. I hope Elmer will wear this proudly for us!”

  Allie approached Trick slowly and stood before him reverently. She reached down and grabbed his soaked hat. The friends watched, puzzled.

  Standing even closer to him, she shook his hat with two quick flicks of her wrist. Grabbing the hat with both hands now, she lifted her heels like a ballerina. She raised it high above Trick’s head and then placed it snugly on him like a crown of glory. Pulling it down to his ears, she looked at the friends and looked back into Trick’s pleasant gleaming eyes. Pausing for a quick moment, she looked to the river and then hugged Trick like a brother.

  Allie broke the silence. “Thank you, Trick. Elmer will wear this proudly.”

  Trick gently nodded and then bent over awkwardly to pick up his cane fishing pole.

  T.J. grabbed his rifle.

  The boys from Buda took a few steps together, looked at each other, and then turned again. Raising the pole and rifle up high in concert, they waved and headed back down the river to home.

  The sun was about to set. It was suppertime.

  Chapter 16

  White House Balcony

  Washington

  May, 1861

  “Father, Willie won’t give me the periscope!” little Tad Lincoln whined. He was barely tall enough to boost his chin over the balcony rail.

  “I will give it to you in a minute!” Willie replied indignantly. “I can’t see Elmer yet. There are trees in the way.”

  “Give me the scope now! It’s my turn,” little Tad demanded as he pulled on the coattails of Willie.

  “Now, boys, let’s keep it down, or Mother will be here lickety-split and make us come off the porch. I can see Elmer’s regiment now,” the president replied confidently as he picked Tad up.

  Tad quickly wrapped his legs around his father, hugged him, and rubbed his face on his father’s long whiskers. “Your face tickles, Father,” he said as he smiled and snuggled himself. Tad could clearly see his pet sheep on the lawn.

  “Boys, can you see the red glow down by the Potomac? It moves in a wavelike motion. I am proud to say that Colonel Elmer Ellsworth is at the front of what you see. It is a regiment one thousand men strong. His men will be clear of the trees soon, and you will be able to see them better. They have fancy uniforms with many buttons, red bedrolls strapped on their backs, and red kepis tipped smartly on their heads.”

  The president smiled. He was very proud of his young law clerk and close friend of the Lincoln family. So close, the boys fondly called him Uncle Elmer. He was a good “uncle” to the boys, often spending hours wrestling and tussling with them during visits to the White House, even catching measles from them in the early days.

  “What is a kepi, Father?” Willie asked as he stared upward and over the balcony rail.

  “It is a fancy cap that French soldiers wear. Elmer made sure all the men in his regiment got them.”

  Who are those soldiers he is leading?” Willie asked.

  “They are the New York Fire Zouaves. They are also called the Eleventh New York Volunteers.”

  “What are Fire Zoooveees?” Tad asked excitedly as he pulled on his father’s whiskers.

  “The name is pronounced Zoo-ahvs.” Lincoln chuckled. “They are firemen who volunteered to put down the rebellion. They will fight for three months and then go home again, boys.”

  “Why do they have to fight, Father? Don’t they save people whose houses are on fire?” asked Willie. He looked perplexed. Turning with the periscope in his hands, he braced his elbows on the balcony rail for a better look at Elmer and his regiment.

  “They are all brave men,” Lincoln responded. “They have come to Washington to protect the city. Now they are preparing to go over to Alexandria, Virginia, on the other side of the Potomac to help them, too.”

  Lincoln looked down at Willie and then looked to the bridge. He squinted and continued. “God bless Elmer and his brave men. They are the best we have, my sons.” Lincoln then fell silent. He had a somber look. He continued, “Boys, listen carefully, and you can hear the tramp of the Zouaves’s boots. They are heading south a few miles to pitch camp so they can cross the river by boat.”

  Willie cupped his ear with his right hand as he lowered the periscope with his left. Tad mimicked him but kept a firm grip on his father’s beard.

  Elmer, now a mile south of the White House, marched proudly a distance of ten feet in front of his men. His red kepi was pitched slightly to the right. His goatee formed in wisps around his mouth and was trimmed closely to his face. A scarlet sash was tied snugly around his trim waist. The knotted ends of the sash fell down a foot or so and flowed back and forth as he marched.

  Soon, small groups of Washingtonians
appeared before the volunteers at broad turns in the roadway, cheering the colorful spectacle before them. At every opportunity Elmer snapped his sword from the shiny black leather scabbard, nodded, and then saluted the bystanders with the tip of the blade point vertical and upward, the hilt of the sword in his hand just inches from his nose.

  Feeling the warmth of the crowd on this crisp spring day as he tramped forward, Elmer’s mind drifted back to the his early beginnings as colonel of the forty-man Chicago US Zouave Cadets, who toured the many eastern cities less than one year ago. Though he commanded one thousand volunteers now, he felt the same inside.

  He was in his element: the beau savior of women, the proud leader of men.

  Chapter 17

  Camp Lincoln

  Eleventh New York Fire Zouaves

  Potomac River

  Four Miles South of Washington

  Evening of May 23, 1861

  Elmer and his Zouaves were ready.

  After splitting time during the daylight hours between preparations for an advance against the newly seceded Virginia and a game of baseball with their colonel, they felt as confident as ever. First to be mustered into the Union army, they now camped in a place of honor and would be the first Union regiment to cross the river into Alexandria.

  It was dark, and a full moon cast a silvery glow across the Potomac like a steady beam of light that seemed to find its place at Elmer’s feet wherever he walked along the riverbank. In the darkness the dark figures of his soldiers seemed to stretch to and fro in front of the fires, masking rank and recognition. Elmer decided to take one last look at Camp Lincoln from the heights above.

  He followed a sandy path that crisscrossed up the eastern slope. He brushed a sapling, grabbed it for support, but stumbled over loose soil and rocks that had been scattered by his Zouaves when they descended on the camp weeks before. He looked up. No stars could be seen above the canopy, but as he turned to look down the encampment, it was like magic.

  Before him, nestled in a bend of the river, no less than one hundred cone-shaped Sibley tents placed in neat rows glowed like white Halloween jack-o’-lanterns. The moon, still bright, seemed to cast its glowing light in a straight line as if beckoning him to the other side of the river. Another ring of red formed around the moon itself. Elmer thought back to his days in Rockford, where the Indian legends taught that a moon with a red ring about it meant that the tribe would be blessed with a good hunting season. His thoughts drifted to his muskrat trapping on the Rock and Pecatonica Rivers. He thought of Allie in her britches, spry as ever and always looking up to him for strength. Kitty came to mind, and her parents, who gave him a handsome Bible before he left for the East. Chicago seemed very distant to him now as he looked over his new regiment. The US Zouave Cadets of Chicago, with all their glory, were no longer, having disbanded in October 1860. He was grateful, though, that his moment had come, to prove what was to come with dignity and honor.

  He must go down to the men now before they rolled up in their scarlet blankets, which rested on common straw. He must let them know what tomorrow would bring. And so he descended the ridge. The moon still shone at his feet.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Farnham, call the men to their ranks!” shouted Elmer with the resonating and deep voice the men knew so well. Within a few minutes, with the rustle and clanking of weaponry, the men were formed to perfection. They stood like sentries of old as the swirling and trickling sounds of the Potomac magnified their silence.

  A prominent boulder about three feet high and somewhat flat on the surface seemed to be a fitting stump for Elmer’s speech. Quickly bounding on top of it, he turned deftly to his men, who stretched in companies about eighty yards to each side. The full moon shone on Elmer’s back, making his frontal figure look like a ghostly black silhouette. Raising both of his arms slowly upward with hands near his shoulders, he broke the silence again,

  “Boys, yesterday I understood that a movement was to be made against Alexandria. I went to see General Mansfield and told him that I would consider it a personal affront if he would not allow us to have the right of line, which is our due as the first volunteer regiment sworn in for the war. All I can say is prepare yourselves for a nice little sail and, at the end of it, a skirmish. Go to your tents, lie down, and take your rest until two o’clock when the boats will arrive and we go forward to victory or death.”

  In silence the men shuffled back to their tents, wondering what their first skirmish would bring. After they had departed, Elmer hopped off the boulder and, like his boys, proceeded to his command tent, which was closest to the Potomac. Turning his head slowly to the south as he opened the flap, he noticed the moon reflecting off the bayonet blades already positioned on the thousand-plus rifles stacked and locked in groups of five, ready for the movements to come. Dipping his head, he entered and dropped the tent flap behind him.

  All was eerily quiet on the Potomac, and Elmer’s thoughts drifted again, but this time to his parents who he loved so dearly. He was their only son now. His little brother, Charley, had died of smallpox in Chicago almost two years before. He remembered the tremendous grief his parents had shown when he brought Charley’s coffin by train to the station to meet them in Mechanicville, his boyhood home in New York State. A simple church service and burial along the riverfront followed. He now thought of his own mortality and the promise he made to his mother the last time he saw her at the Astor House in New York City, before the Zouaves departed for Washington.

  “I must write them,” he whispered softly.

  Grabbing the oil lamp and setting it next to his red diary and Bible at the corner of the table, he picked up his quill and dipped the tip in a small rosewood inkwell. He sat down and looked at the pointed peak of his tent, which drew the lamp smoke upward. Placing his wrist near the corner of the paper, he looked up one more time, squinted at the lamp, breathed a sigh, and began to write in a steady motion.

  Headquarters 1st Zouaves

  Camp Lincoln

  Washington D. C.

  May 23d 61

  My dear Father and Mother,

  The Regt is ordered to move across the river tonight. We have no means of knowing what reception we are to meet with. I am inclined to the opinion that our entrance to the City of Alexandria will be hotly contested as I am just informed a large force arrived there today. Should this happen my dear parents it may be my lot to be injured in some manner. Whatever may happen cherish the consideration that I was engaged in the performance of a sacred duty, and tonight thinking over the probabilities of the morrow and the occurrences of the past, I am perfectly content to accept whatever my fortune may be, confident that He who noteth the fall of a sparrow will have some purpose in the fate of one like me.

  My darling & ever loved parents, goodbye. God bless, protect, and care for you.

  Elmer (4)

  When he finished the last line, he placed the quill down and stood up. His frock coat and scarlet sash hung on the back of his camp chair. Putting the sash to the side, he grabbed the handsome uniform coat and donned it. Reaching into the small drawer of his camp desk, he grabbed a tiny gold badge about the size of a quarter. It had a Latin inscription that read, “Not for ourselves alone but for country”. He pinned the badge above his heart. He then reached for his letter, folded it, and placed it in the inner pocket of his uniform. He wondered what the morning would bring.

  Outside, the volunteers lay on their scarlet bed rolls, staring into the darkness, awaiting word from the sentries.

  “Tomorrow is our day,” Elmer whispered to himself. “God bless the Union. God bless our boys.”

  Chapter 18

  Alexandria, Virginia

  Morning

  May 24, 1861

  The early risers began to gather in the streets at sunrise as Elmer and his men crossed the Potomac and captured the city.

  It was a clear day. The sky was especially blue in the early morning hour. The crisp spring air drummed up a slight breeze that quelled the du
st of tramping feet. The Zouaves undulated through Alexandria like a large serpent slithering over rocks. The streets in front of the regiment began to narrow, causing the soldiers to extend their ranks over three city blocks. Many bystanders peered down from windows. The soldiers kept their faces forward, even when a young or old detractor flapped a tiny rebel flag, which would then be pulled back from view into the dark contrast of the window.

  “Colonel Ellsworth,” shouted the orderly sergeant who carried the regimental flag, “do you see that flag ahead?” A massive rebel flag waved gently high atop the roof of a grand hotel a few blocks away.

  “I see it, Sergeant. We will halt there for a rest. We will keep in step and take the boys one block forward so the center will rest there.”

  Over the hotel door was a sign that read, “Marshall House, James Jackson, Proprietor.” The flag had a blue field with eleven circled stars representing the Confederate States. At first glance it could be mistaken as a Union flag of the North, but at closer look, it revealed only two horizontal red stripes instead of seven. The two red stripes that bordered the edge balanced the bright-white stripe in the middle. Even though it was red, white, and blue like a Union flag, it was a symbol that flapped defiantly in the face of the White House over the past few months, and now was the Federal army’s for the taking.

  As the regiment approached the Marshall House, Elmer stepped to the side and allowed his men to continue down the street. He stood on the front steps of the hotel, facing his men as if he was a general reviewing his troops. When a large complement of his troops had passed by, he called a halt so that the main contingent was approximately centered in front of the hotel. The rebel flag continued to whirl and snap as the dust lingered below and settled on the boots of the Zouaves.

  The Marshall House, Alexandria, Virginia, 1861

  “Private Brownell, step forward!” Elmer commanded.

  “Yes, Colonel, I am at your service.”