They made love. A soft gentle love, yet filled with the deepest passions and emotions.
She lay in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He gently caressed her face. He said softly, “Lucinda, you have no idea how I have been waiting for this. And I had no idea how delicious it could be. My dreams never came close to this.”
She murmured, “Oh, James, it’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.”
She responded, “I know, I know.”
He chuckled softly. “The poets have not even been able to describe it. This is an awakening, a merging of our souls.”
They both became lost in quiet moments, no need for further words. James was aware of the fire crackling and the heat it was putting out. And he was also aware of the heat and warmth of their naked bodies.
He pulled her tighter into him, his hand moving across her body, caressing gently, softly, and she covered his hand with hers and followed the movement on her body, and she responded with a passion that again matched his.
He was no longer a seventeen year old looking for love. He was a man who had found his love in the form of an angel.
And he wasn’t about to let her go.
James and Lucinda had gathered together a few things for her return trip to Des Moines. They set off early on the following Wednesday morning as the new day was dawning, a slate gray sky slowly giving way to cloud colors of copper as the morning sun began to rise. Lucinda had to return her buggy and book inventory to the Century Press in Des Moines, and James followed in his wagon for their return trip. They would visit with Lucinda’s Aunt Maggie, pack up Lucinda’s belongings, including a few pieces of furniture which James assured her there would be room for in his house. Lucinda had packed a big lunch for the thirty-five mile trip.
James had made arrangements with Professor Cramer for one of the Professor’s brightest students to take over his class for the next two weeks. James decided that would be better than closing the school for a time.
They rode along, often with wagons side by side when the roadway allowed. They talked, they laughed, and James recited poetry, at times with a thunderous voice, which more than once reached the ears of dogs on nearby farms. Dogs barked and howled, almost in unison with James’s rendition of poetry.
At noontime they stopped along the road in a stand of Cottonwood trees and ate their lunch. James went for a short walk and returned with a handful of bright yellow wild flowers.
He bowed and presented Lucinda the flowers. “For my lovely, whose beauty matches, no, whose beauty outdoes the beauty of these precious flowers from God.”
She took the flowers and told him, “Thank you. They’re so pretty.” Her eyes sparkled with approval. “Are you always this romantic?”
He grinned. “Can’t say I’ve had much practice in the past.”
She smiled. “Well, James Garrison, I have to tell you I love it.”
He winked, “Good, my lovely, because you’re going to get plenty of it. How do I love you?—let me count the ways ....”
Lucinda was happy and finding such joy in his company. She loved everything about him. She thought about what Professor Cramer had told her about James. The Professor knew his student well.
Lucinda was wondering what her Aunt Maggie would say when she told her she was getting married. It had all happened so fast, away for a few days and returning to Des Moines with marriage news. Would she think Lucinda impulsive? Lucinda brushed aside the thought, believing when her Aunt Maggie met James she would love him and encourage their union.
Her Aunt Maggie had been widowed years before and had never remarried. She was now in her sixties and was a dressmaker, although she no longer had a shop in town but worked from her home.
It was late afternoon when they arrived at Maggie Collins’s home. She had a look of surprise when she opened the door and saw Lucinda was not alone. She wore a Calico print dress, her gray hair pulled up and into a bun, and a huge smile that wouldn’t quit.
“Lucinda honey, who do we have here?”
Any worry or wonder Lucinda previously had, disappeared as soon as James was introduced to her aunt. She could tell that James liked Aunt Maggie as much as Aunt Maggie liked him. Not that Lucinda felt she needed her aunt’s approval but it was nice to know she had it.
After a pleasant overnight visit with Aunt Maggie, the wagon was loaded with Lucinda’s belongings and they made the return trip to the farm.
The following morning they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, did a few chores in the house and then went out into the yard. A wind had come up and it appeared rain clouds might be gathering for an afternoon rain shower.
James went to the barn to tend to the animals and Lucinda fed the chickens and was gathering eggs. She leaned down to pick up an egg nearly hidden among the daffodils and when she stood up she caught sight of heavy smoke to the east.
“James, there’s a fire!”
James came running from the barn and saw where Lucinda was pointing. “Damn, it looks like the Erskine’s place!” He ran back into the barn and returned with several shovels and threw them into the wagon. “Lucinda, grab all the buckets you can find!”
She hurried to the house and returned with three buckets.
James instructed, “Throw them into the wagon. Grab the ones near the pump.”
“I’m going with you!”
“No, you’re not!”
“Try and stop me!” She climbed into the wagon as he finished harnessing the horse. He jumped onto the wagon and gave a stern look but no argument. As soon as they were out onto the road way, he mumbled, “You should have stayed home.”
Lucinda shrugged and said, “I don’t think so.”
James knew how dangerous and devastating prairie fires could be. They happened too often. Farmhouses, barns, could be destroyed in no time, as well as lives. Anytime there was a fire he would recall an event that happened a few years before. A family of five was in their wagon on the road when a prairie fire caught them. Tall grass was burning on one side of the road and apparently the wind had sent the fire across the road in front of them, surrounding and engulfing them. They had nowhere to go and they all burned to death. Their charred bodies were found hours later.
Within minutes James and Lucinda arrived at the Erskine farm. Fire was burning in the high dry grass beyond the barn and wind was whipping up the flames. A half-dozen men were running buckets of water, beating at the flames with boards, and throwing shovels of dirt.
James moaned, “Jeeze, in this wind we won’t have a chance!” He jumped down from the wagon, quickly grabbed shovels and buckets. He saw Mrs. Erskine standing near the porch of the house. He called out over his shoulder, “Lucinda, you stay near the farmhouse and help Mrs. Erskine!”
“Be careful James!” Lucinda turned and headed for the house.
It was chaotic. James was told the fire started by accident when William Erskine was doing a burn to clear some land. A hot coal dropped from a shovel full of coals he was carrying and ignited the weeds. The south wind fanned the flames and carried them in the opposite direction from his controlled burn. Now it had not only spread in the direction of his barn but was threatening his hay and granary.
James assisted in removing the horses and the harness from the barn. It was not an easy task as the horses were spooked by the fire but the men managed to remove them all to safe ground. Only moments later, the barn burst into flame. But that was now the least of their worries. The wind had turned and moved the flames toward the foot of the granary. Further down the field the fire was moving in the direction of the road.
Across the road was James’s Uncle Andrew’s farm. The split rail fence and gate were just off the edge of the road. James knew there was a real threat to his own farm if the fire kept going in the direction it was moving.
James looked to the heavens and prayed for rain. Clouds had been gathering all morning but he knew the prospect of falling rain did not look
good at present.
The Erskine farmhouse appeared to be in safe territory unless the wind shifted and blew sparks in that direction. The barn was lost and it did not look like they could save the granary.
One of the men yelled out, “There goes the hay!”
They concentrated all efforts on the granary and after an hour or more they succeeded in saving it. Several men had moved to the roadway but the fire had jumped the road to Andrew McCord’s farm. James had just gotten word that the fence was burning and the fire was moving onto his uncle’s acreage. He knew the one thing that might save his uncle’s land was the cultivated fields. There were not a lot of weeds or grasses to burn. The newly planted crop did not offer a lot of fuel for the fire.
They fought the fire all afternoon and shortly before sunset a rain began to fall. Exhausted, James stood in the rain, his head lifted to the heavens and said, “Thank you, dear God. Let it fall.”
Lucinda arrived with a sandwich and cold drink of sweet tea. “Here, James,” she said. “Mrs. Erskine sent this out for you. Eat something while you have the chance.”
He realized he was starving when he saw the ham sandwich. He kicked the shovel into the ground with his boot, wiped his brow with his sleeve, leaned forward and planted a kiss on Lucinda’s lips before reaching for the sandwich. He said, “What a day.”
Lucinda replied, “You men did a great job, James. It could have been so much worse.”
He sipped the tea, grateful for the cold liquid. He told her, “It’s not over yet.”
She looked to the sky. The rain was beginning to pelt them. “This rain will do it,” she said.
James pulled her to him. “Sure you want to live on a farm, my love?”
She reached up and gently wiped the smoke residue from around his lips. “With this farmer, I do,” she replied.
James and Lucinda were married a month later. The bride was dazzling in a lavender silk damask gown. Aunt Maggie made the dress, which was accented by black velvet trim. Lucinda decided against a veil and wore a bonnet with flowers, and ten button gray slippers. James was handsome in a dark blue suit and vest.
The wedding ceremony, held at Professor Cramer’s Academy, was attended by a handful of family and friends. Professor Cramer, who also held a Doctor of Divinity title, conducted the simple, yet romantic, ceremony. Robert Garrison was his brother’s best man and Lucinda’s Aunt Maggie was matron of honor.
Catherine McCord had not a dry eye throughout the ceremony. Although she knew how handsome her son was, to see him dressed to his best, and standing beside his beautiful bride, her heart swelled with pride and admiration. James had written a poem for Lucinda and was reciting it, and Catherine bit her lip in the hopes of holding back tears. Daniel McCord, seated next to his wife, leaned toward her, handed her his handkerchief and whispered in her ear, “Okay, Mommy, dry those tears.”
Catherine accepted the handkerchief and smiled at her husband, somewhat surprised by his reaction to her emotional state. She thought she got a glimpse of moisture in Daniel’s eyes but surely she was mistaken. As much as she loved her husband it was most unusual for him to react with emotion, other than occasionally, with anger. Daniel McCord was a big man, somewhat robust, yet Catherine always felt he was like a puppy dog—warm, loving, and cuddly—but he seldom let that come through. She supposed he believed it a sign of weakness. She knew how wrong that belief was but she had the wisdom to know she could never convince him of that.
She also knew her son James was very much like his father, Richard—a romantic, emotional soul. Catherine missed that in her relationship with Daniel. If she had any complaints about her marriage, that would be it. Lucinda, she knew, was very lucky to have that. And she hoped her new daughter-in-law would always treasure it.
Six months later James and Lucinda Garrison built their subscription school, a two-room frame schoolhouse that sat on a hill just at the edge of town. They placed a plaque on the face of the building which read:
The LearningSchool
James and Lucinda Garrison, Teachers
Lucinda planted flowers and apple trees around the schoolhouse and on the hill top, while James built tables and benches and ordered a large inventory of school books and supplies.
The school opened with great success. Word had spread quickly, with the help of people such as Professor Cramer, that the curriculum was unique and of a much higher quality than that which was being offered by the county schools.
Several of their older students had come from miles away, boarding with local families while they attended school.
When the war between the states began, life changed, not only for those on the battlefields but for everyone in the country. Some people who held to superstition blamed the war on the appearance in the night sky of Danaides Comet that had streaked through the night skies of the prairie in the summer of 1858, after a two thousand-year absence. Others blamed politicians such as Abraham Lincoln, the Abolitionists, the Confederate States secessionists, and others who had made their voices heard for some time. Thoughtful men all over the country had been reading books such as The Impending Crisis of the South by Hinton Rowan Harper and carefully listening to the political chatter and political platforms but no one could have guessed in April of 1861, when war broke out in Charleston, South Carolina, just how expanded and devastating the war would become. For many the ideals of American freedom and a unified nation were worth the risks that they might face.
James Campbell Garrison was one of those who believed passionately that the war had merit.
By late 1861, the number of Iowa volunteers was high. James was faced with a dilemma. He believed he owed it to children to give them an education. But he also believed, without reservation, that he owed his country. His loyalty to the Union made it difficult for him to ignore what was happening to his country. So, on the larger scale, the security and freedom of people won out over his personal need as a teacher to teach.
James had long talks with Lucinda about the war and although he realized she was disappointed and even worried about his choice to go to war, he also admired her understanding of his need to do so.
In October 1861, he joined the 2nd Regiment of Iowa Volunteers. It was soon suggested to James that he become an officer and stay in the military following the war, but he knew he would not. He was at heart a teacher, not a warrior. He became a soldier only because he heard the call of his country and could not ignore it.
For those who knew James and his adventurous spirit, they were not surprised that he chose to volunteer. He said to Lucinda and his family before he left for St. Louis, Missouri, “All we ask is to be led against our enemy and test the matter. Onward to victory or death is my motto.”
The initial war time assignment for James was at McDowell College in St. Louis. He kidded about the throngs of students, which were actually Rebel prisoners. At first, he said, there had been more than thirteen hundred “students” but two to three hundred had taken the oath of allegiance to the Union reducing the number to less than eleven hundred. In a letter to his sister, Elizabeth Jane, he had written, “Missouri keeps sending us her disloyal inhabitants to educate according to a theory of our Professor J. W. Tuttle, also known as Union Colonel J. W. Tuttle. He has the men of our company to help in his duty. We teach them that Uncle Sam is not to be fooled with and that they have to submit or somebody will get hurt. So once a teacher, always a teacher.”
Chapter Three: Sunday, the 8th Day of March 1863
Iron Mountain, Iron County, Missouri
Dear Companion,
It is through the mercy of God this evening that I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well at present and the health of the boys in the company is very good. I hope these few lines will find you all enjoying good health. I was paid a week or two ago and I received forty-six dollars and 80 cents and today I expressed thirty-five dollars home. Five of us boys expressed together and we expressed it to Leander Smith and he is to give each man’s money to the
families. You will have to receipt to him for what money you get. The agent could not tell us what the postage would be so we could not pay it here. You will have to pay your share of the postage to Leander Smith and give him something for his trouble.
I want you to square up with Aunt Sarah McCord and pay the mortgage so the land will be free from all encumbrance and I want you to keep it as long as you can. Take good care of the balance of the money. Use what you are compelled to use. You need not think by this that you are extravagant for I would not be afraid to trust you with five thousand dollars. I would feel as satisfied as though I had it in my own pocket. I have that much confidence in you that I can rest easy. I think you are doing business as well as I could expect. I think I have the best woman in Iowa. I know one thing, my Janie is the nearest and dearest to me. I received your kind letter dated the 15th. It was good to hear that you are all well and on the land and among the living. You may think I am making light of such. I feel a little funny tonight. I have been to Pilot Knob today and just got back this evening but I did not get drunk. I only had one dram today and that was sweetened with water. It was the first time I have been from camp without some officer with me and could do as I pleased. That has become a rare thing.
We are quartered at Iron Mountain six miles above Pilot Knob and the railroad, and it seems more like home than it has for the past few months. The country we have marched over has been principally mountainous. This area is full of iron and it is manufactured here and at Pilot Knob.
We are in an Iowa brigade with the 21st and 22nd. We do not know for certain where we will go but it appears it will be down the river, probably to Vicksburg.
You wrote you heard that ten of our men went out on a scout and had taken four thousand dollars from a woman. That was the first I heard of that. In the first place, there is no such a man as Wickerman in our company nor never has been, and in the next place there has not been any of our boys out on a scout. So you can set that down as a false report. You need not believe half the news you hear.
Corn Silk Days: Iowa, 1862 Page 4
