Corn Silk Days: Iowa, 1862

by Linda Pendleton

  “He knows his time is about gone. So you get yourself ready and come on over to be with him.”

  “Oh, Hanna. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “I know, I know. It’s not easy but you be strong now.”

  Where her strength came from Rebecca did not know except to think it came from James. He knew he was dying, and he was fading in and out and his fever was causing hallucinations at times. She tried to ease him through the hallucinations, tried to cool him down, wanted desperately to ease his pain, but there was really nothing that she could do to make it any better.

  In one of his lucid moments when she asked what she could give him, meaning water or a cold cloth, he told her, “You can give me a lot of things, Rebecca, but you can’t give me more time.”

  He was right. She could not.

  James Campbell Garrison died that evening just after sunset.

  Chapter Fifty-five: Saturday, the 12th Day of November 1864

  Night Camp, Brownsville, Arkansas

  Dear wife,

  I have not had the opportunity to write for some time. I have not had a letter from you for more than six weeks. The mail has come to the regiment and the boys get some but I do not. I worry that something is wrong at home, or that you forget to write me because you do not hear from me. Well a soldier in the army has a very poor chance to write at best and sometimes no chance at all and the people at home can write whenever they feel like it. Us soldiers have to write when we can, but I will drop this thinking. Maybe I will get a letter soon.

  We were at De Valls Bluff, Arkansas for some time. We went aboard the transport Nebraska and was ordered to report to the mouth of the White River. We arrived at the mouth of the river on the 16th and the next morning boarded the transport Shenango bound for De Valls Bluff, and there was soon talk of us going to Fort Smith. I hardly think we will go there but I would like to.

  Well, Jane, there is considerable improvement going on in the South. A woolen factory is building in Vicksburg, and also a new cotton gin is in operation. Considerable improvements are going on at the Bluffs. A large depot is building and it is quite a business place. Mechanics get four dollars a day cash for work and also a circus was there but we are poor boys and have no money. We will get a lot of money when we are paid.

  We were lucky in getting up the rivers without any shots being fired at us. I went into town and I saw the cars start out for Little Rock. A great many citizens are going to Little Rock, and this place affords some very nice looking women. It seems like home to me more than any place I have seen for sometime. I am getting to like the South very well. I expect I will want to live in the South after the war if I live to see it through. The hardest people I have seen in the South are those who are refuges and had everything taken from them and when they come to our lines they are about gone in, and I have to pity such people, especially the women and children but that is the only class of people I can pity.

  I understand that it was circulated in the Iowa papers that our regiment was going for McClellan by a large majority. Our regiment had been for Lincoln. I had said that I supposed that Mack would get 25 or 50 votes out of about 450 men and that is doing very well for Mack. I would have said our regiment was ignorant if they did not know enough to shun any man that expected the nomination by the Chicago Convention. That Convention made more Lincoln men in the army than it did Mack men. I could not support such platform or any set of men but one, and the majority of us were for Lincoln. Mack would have been better off running out Independent. He would have been much stronger but all things worked out for the better.

  We got a chance to vote last Tuesday. Well, I must tell you how the election went as far as I know. Our regiment stood 362 for Lincoln, 38 for McClellan. The 20th Iowa stands for Lincoln by a large majority, McClellan only 24. The 35th Wisconsin, majority for Lincoln. The 12th Michigan, twelve hundred strong went 900 for Lincoln and 300 for McClellan. That is all I heard as we had to leave then on Wednesday and had to march to this place in one day and a half. We marched in sight of the railroad a greater part of the way. It was raining for three or four days before we marched. We marched through a prairie for most of the way and it was very level and the water was laying on the top of the ground. Consequently, we waded about six miles. We got through but many of the boys felt pretty cold and I felt cold and as old as the oldies of them. I cannot stand marching very well anyway and marching through water uses me up for a few days. We are in Brownsville, two miles and a half from the railroad.

  You know where I am and how I am getting along when this letter was written so I will close.

  Yours as ever, Silas

  Chapter Fifty-six: Endings

  As soon as Lucinda Garrison held the letters in her hand, she knew. Both letters were from Union soldiers in James’s regiment, one an officer. She was shaking as she returned to the living room, went to the desk, sat down and picked up the letter opener. She carefully opened the letter with the return address of the officer, trying not to tear the envelope. She pulled the folded paper from the envelope, opened it and began to read.

  Dear Mrs. James Garrison:

  The United States Government, Army Division, is sorry to inform you that your husband James Campbell Garrison, has died from injuries suffered during his gallant duty as a Union soldier fighting for President Lincoln’s Union.

  He has been buried near the army hospital in Georgia. If you would like to make other arrangements to have his body sent home to Iowa for interment, please contact Colonel J. W. Tuttle at St. Louis and he will make arrangements.

  You will soon be receiving your husband’s personal effects which include a great coat, blanket, wool shirt, cotton shirt, neck tie, 2 photographs, a gold locket, a gold pen, 2 pair of wool socks, a wallet, three dollars. You will also receive his last pay.

  I am so sorry for your loss but please know that James Garrison was a brave and outstanding soldier. His family should be proud. I send my personal condolences and the condolences of his fellow regiment soldiers.

  Sincerely, Colonel Vernon Downey

  Lucinda then opened the second letter and it was from a friend of James, a Matthew Johnson, and he told her how sorry he was. With it was a note from another person, someone named Beck, someone she had not heard James mention. She read both notes and as she finished she felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare and would soon wake up and discover none of this had happened.

  Oh, God! How she prayed it would all go away.

  Catherine tried her best to comfort her daughter-in-law, Lucinda, but she found her own grief of the loss of her son was at times nearly overwhelming. And it was overwhelming enough that others were worried about her depression.

  She had thought it would be much better after her and Daniel pooled their money with Lucinda’s to bring James home for a decent funeral service and burial. She somehow had gotten through his funeral in such a way as to be there for Lucinda and give her support but soon after she fell into a depression and she knew it but could not seem to pull herself into a good place again.

  Today was no different than the days of the last week. Each day one of the family would try their best to pull Catherine out of her dark times. Daniel spent most of his time trying to cheer her, even as far as neglecting some of his farm duties, and Elizabeth Jane tried cheering her with her grandchildren. Even Denny was aware of his grandmother’s sadness and would do things to try and make her laugh more.

  This time, again, it was Alexander who was spending some time with Catherine.

  “Catherine, you’ve got to move beyond this,” Alexander said as he sat across the table from her.

  “I know, it is so hard,” she admitted. “James’s brother Robert has tried to make me feel better but it doesn’t work. I love all my children but I guess James had this special place in my heart that Robert, Madeline, or even Janie, do not fill. He was such a delightful boy.”

  “Well, he was special, yes he was. But let me tell you something. I know him well
enough to know he does not want you to be like this. You’ve always been so joyful, so sure of things, so in charge of life, and now, you are shrinking away from it.”

  She shrugged, “I know. I want to run away, to hide and pretend it did not happen and he is just off to war. It hurts deeply to know he’s gone.”

  “Well, you make me that sandwich you promised and I’ll tell you some stories about life, and about death.”

  She rose from her chair and said, “Okay, Alex, I will get you some food, can’t have you starving, now can I?”

  He chuckled, “You betcha.”

  As soon as she began preparation for making lunch, Alexander leaned back in his chair and began to talk of his early life and his time with his first wife, Sally. He said, “I know you’ve heard some of this before, but I think you need to hear it again. I had some difficult times when our babies died. Then when Sally became ill, when she lived in some other world of her own making, I felt so helpless. My heart ached, it ached for her, and then later for me as well. After she killed herself I thought I could never get over it, get beyond it. But I did. You might say the Mighty Lord helped me through those times, but there was something else I learned. They were still with me. I knew it often, I felt the presence of each of them, and one of them is often around me, and that is my little girl with the golden corn silk hair. She’s never left me.”

  As Catherine listened her eyes filled with tears.

  He continued, “Don’t you know James is still around you, around Lucinda, around all his family?”

  She put down the knife and turned to look at Alexander, her eyes moist. She said, “Of course I know that, Alex. It’s like his father, Richard. Richard was often around me ... and,” she started to cry, “he’s been with me since James died. I’ve not told anyone but, oh Alex ...”

  Alexander got up from his chair and went to Catherine and put his arms around her and held her close. “Sure he has. Both of them have been right at your side. You need to celebrate that. You need to tell Daniel, tell your children, tell his wife.”

  “You’re so right, Alex,” she said. “Thank you. Sometimes your wisdom can make life seem so easy.”

  He said, “It is easy, we just make it too hard sometimes, don’t we?”

  Lucinda had been going through the motions of living since she had buried her husband. Five days a week she left her home and went to the schoolhouse and taught her students.

  Then nearly every afternoon she would return home and fix a little supper, correct school papers and plan the next day’s lesson, then crawl into bed, and there she would stare at the ceiling or cry into her pillow. Day after day, night after night, for weeks and weeks.

  There were times when she would wonder who was she crying about, her loss of James, her husband, or the loss of Benjamin, her former lover.

  Her grief was like a mixture of emotions that she could not fully identify and sort out. She would be thinking of James and tears would come, and then maybe thoughts of Benjamin would replace her thoughts of James.

  She realized that James had been off to war for more than two years. And she wondered why he had not come home when his enlistment time had been up prior to his death. Had he reenlisted without telling her? There had been very few letters over the last several months, actually not a lot of communication since her rape and the trial. And now she would never know if that was what had bothered James to the degree that his feelings had changed for her. It had become obvious that he hated Benjamin. But did he blame her?

  It was Saturday and she had slept in late, had gotten up and made breakfast, nearly in time for lunch, and now was sitting at her desk, writing a letter to her Aunt Maggie. When she finished her letter, she thought it time to go through the box of James’s belongings that the army had sent her. She had set it aside unopened, not wanting to deal with the contents.

  She cut open the box, and inside was a small box and clothing. She opened the small box and saw her photograph and a photograph of James in his uniform. And she saw a locket, an expensive looking gold locket and chain. She shook her head, now remembering the letter and the list of his belongings had included a locket but she had not given a locket to her husband.

  Maybe James had bought this for her and had not got around to sending it home. She pulled it out of the box, opened the clasp and inside was a lock of dark auburn hair, and a photo of an attractive woman, a woman she did not know. She turned it over and monogrammed on the reverse side was the name Rebecca.

  The letter from someone named Beck. She reached for the envelope and opened the letter from this person “Beck.” She had not looked at it since the day it arrived. The handwriting was very neat.

  Dear Mrs. Garrison, I want you to know what a good person, a compassionate person, James was. He was loved by everyone. He will be greatly missed. My sincere sympathy, R. Beck

  Lucinda put the letter down, stared at the gold locket in her hand for the longest time, and then she threw the locket across the room hitting the far wall and watched as it slid on down to the floor.

  “Damn you, James!”

  Chapter Fifty-seven: Tuesday, the 6th Day of December 1864

  De Valls Bluff, Arkansas

  Dear Jane,

  I am writing a few lines to inform you that I am well and hearty at present. Several of your letters arrived from more than two months ago.

  I heard the sad news of James before letters came from home. I hope your mother is doing better and Lucinda, too.

  You say that clothing is very high, that it costs so much to clothe you and the two children. I don’t know what you would do if you had half a dozen children to clothe and maintain with only the wages of a soldier to do it as a great many women do. I want you to clothe you and the sweet children comfortably if it takes one hundred dollars. I am glad to hear you bought two sheep and if you can get two or three more then do it, then you will have enough to make your clothing and it will be a great deal better than buying clothes. They will not be very much bother to you until I get home if I am so lucky as to get home. I expect sheep is very hard to get at present. All I have to say is to do the best you can and you will please me.

  We have come back from Brownsville and I am well pleased with the exchange. It was muddy all the time we were there. We have a very nice camp here and we moved into houses that the 46th Illinois built. The house is about fourteen feet square covered with boards. It is the best quarters that we have had since we left St. Louis. There is hope of our staying here all winter.

  I would as soon stay here all winter as anywhere unless it is New Orleans. It is not so cold there. We left Brownsville the 30th of November and arrived here the 1st of December. Our quarters have been inspected nigh every day and I suppose that is to see whether we live like hogs or humans. It has been so long since we have lived in houses that they think we do not know how to keep them clean and nice. We are very nicely fixed if we had (as the colonel told two of our boys) a woman a piece then we would think we are in paradise. Our major went home this fall and married a girl and brought her to the regiment. She is here now. She is a very good looking woman.

  This place is improving very fast and Northern people came here and went into business of some kind or other.

  Well Jane, you said you rented out some acres to Uncle Perry and that is fine by me. You spoke of buying some timber reasonable. If you can sell that piece of land for $250 dollars or for as much as you can get for it, you can if you will, buy three or five acres of timber. If the timber is not very good have nothing to do with it. You can tell better what to do or ask Pap if you can’t. I was preparing to buy that piece of land joining the grove on the north, that piece we could see so plain from your daddy’s house. It was very high ground and timber on the northwest of it. If I had the forty west of mine I would not sell for any consideration so I doubt Rodgers is going to sell that. But don’t mention to Rodgers that I would like to have those acres or he would raise his asking price to a thousand dollars.

  I
t is reported that we are to go to the Shenandoah Valley. I suppose we have to report to Memphis whether we go any farther or not. Two regiments of our brigade was at the Bluffs. The adjutant general came from there the other day and he said that the two regiments had embarked for Memphis. I think we will go soon as we are a lost brigade here.

  If nothing happens, Dave Perin and I are going to Little Rock tomorrow. Well Jane, I can say without bragging that I can sew and make clothes and repair them as well as most of the fair sex. I made me a vest and the boys say it is hard to beat for the first. If I live to get home you will know. You probably think I am blowing but I am not.

  We had brigade drill this afternoon on the prairie. It is about one mile from our camp. It is a splendid sight to see a lot of troops drilling on the prairie. The prairie is very level and nice for troops to drill on. I suppose we will have to drill every day if the weather is favorable unless we are on fatigue. I like to drill when it is battalion or brigade drill if the weather is not too warm.

  Jane, I wrote yesterday that Dave Perin and I were going to Little Rock. We went up to Little Rock on the early morning train and the train following us went off the track six miles from Little Rock. A yoke of cattle was on the track and when the train came to them instead of them running off the track they run up the track and came to a bridge and then fell through. The cars ran on to them, tore the bridge down, threw the engine and tender and seven cars off and completely smashed them, some falling from the right side, other cars from the left. The road and bridge was eight and ten feet high. Two flat cars were all that stayed on the road. One or two soldiers were killed and several badly hurt. One lieutenant had one arm and both legs broken and was hurt in the breast and head. He was not expected to live. An Irish woman and girl 12 or 14 years old and a boy 8 or 10 years old was taking her husband to Little Rock to bury him. The flesh on the woman’s thigh was cut off to the bone to her knee but the bone was not broken. The little girl had her foot and ankle mashed and could not get loose until helped. The little boy had his leg broken. The woman is not expected to live. They had to cut people out of the cars. The conductor said it was a wonder that anybody escaped. Five men were on the engine and not hurt. The car was loaded with commissaries, principally pork and flour. I heard a great deal of talk of smashup on the railroad and if this is the way they smash up I do not want to be on them when it occurs. I never seen things smashed up so bad in my life.