It is still hard to get a letter out. I did receive two of your letters but did not have time to read them until now as we had to march and then built a great many bridges. Our average distance was about five or six miles and yesterday we had to draw the wagons and artillery very nigh all the way by hand. It had rained so the ground was very soft. This morning we crossed over on the north side of the Fish River and went in camp on the left of Smith’s Corps. How long we will remain is more than I can tell. Probably we will stay here long enough to draw rations and then go ahead. This beats all states that I ever seen to march in. We have marched about thirty miles since we started and it is a very low flat swamp country. It is so miserable that the birds will hardly live here and there have been but few people in the country we have come through.
We could hardly get any beef to eat and the beef we did get was so poor that it would hardly stand up long enough to shoot it. But we would eat them and make supper of their loins just because they belonged to the Rebels not because we relished the beef. I am in hopes that we will come across more hogs and other forage when we march again for I am a big eater.
Our line extends about seven miles long and more troops coming. I think we have force enough to whip all the Rebels this side of where this column and the one from Pensacola will form a junction and then we can wail them until they dribble like pups if our army is rightly handled.
Well Jane, the mail goes out at 2 o’clock so I will have to close. I may not get another chance to write until after Mobile is taken and if such should be the case you need not be uneasy about me. I must close for now.
Your affectionate husband, Silas
Chapter Sixty-one: Emily
Benjamin Storm had arrived in Cincinnati after finding his way around Ohio. When he saw the city he was drawn to the architecture of the many Italianate commercial buildings and houses, usually two or three stories high, with low-pitched gable, or shed roofs. The decorative ornamentation on the brick or wood was pleasing to the eye, and pleasing to the artful and architectural interests of Benjamin. And he soon found a room to rent in one of those buildings.
In his job search he had been walking at Fourth and Race Streets when a man accidentally bumped into him nearly knocking him down. The stocky man, obviously in a rush, apologized and then hurried into the newspaper office. Benjamin went on his way to the photographer’s studio nearby to apply for a job. He was disappointed to learn the position had already been filled. So as he again walked by the Cincinnati Daily Commercial Newspaper office he decided to go in and see if they were hiring. The newspaper was known to have a proclivity for exposing corruption of political figures and businesses. He was escorted into the office of Murat Halstead, the Editorial Director. And he was surprised to see Mr. Halstead was the man who bumped into him.
“We meet again,” Halstead said with a smile and extended hand. “Murat Halstead.”
Benjamin reached for his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Halstead. I’m Benjamin Storm.”
“Please sit, Benjamin, and tell me why you think I should hire you.”
Benjamin sat in the chair opposite Halstead’s large desk, stacked with papers, leaving a small area in the front center clear. It was there that a cup of coffee sat, alongside a notebook. “I believe I could bring some fresh reporting to your paper,” Benjamin answered.
Halstead leaned back in his chair and caressed his goatee, then smoothed his moustache as he intently gazed at Benjamin.
“Hmm, you think so?”
“Yes, sir, I do. I have an artistic eye and a nose for good news and although I’ve only been here in Cincinnati a few weeks I see it has much to offer the citizens. I lived in Chicago for a time, but I feel more comfortable here.”
“So you don’t want to be a war correspondent?”
“No, I don’t. It does look like the war is winding down but my interests are with more everyday stories of people who are going on with their everyday lives, and as I’ve noted you seem to like exposing corruption when you come across it.”
“Well, then you’ve been reading my editorials of recent times. I started out as a lawyer but I found I could have more impact with my journalism,” he said.
“I see. And I would guess you are indeed having an impact, although I’ve only been reading your paper a few weeks.”
“Well, I like you, Benjamin. I’d be interested to see how you write, what style and what freshness you might bring to the news. I’ll give you a trial job. You bring me a good story by Friday and if I feel it lives up to my expectations, you will have a full time job with me.”
By that Friday evening, Benjamin had a full time job in the editorial department of The Cincinnati Daily Commercial News.
His new job was filling the hours of his days and often the hours of the evenings. But there was still time for the emptiness he felt. And when he heard the news about James Garrison’s death in the fall, his first instinct was to go back home to Lucinda but he knew it best not to do that, at least not then. Maybe in time it would be a different story.
So Benjamin put his energy as much as he could into his new career as a journalist. He seemed to have a knack for finding great stories and interviewing people to bring out the most interesting aspects.
Benjamin had known for some time that this older woman had an interest in him. He had always been nice to her but had done nothing to encourage her. He felt her approaching behind him and he turned to greet her. “How are you doing today, Emily,” he asked.
Her face blushed only for a moment as she smiled at him. “I’m doing well, Benjamin. How about you?”
“Doing good,” he responded. She was vivacious, her body trim yet full, her eyes dark and full of mystery, and he had to admit he found her attractive. Although he tried to hide that fact he often felt she knew his thoughts.
“Here is the final edit on your article for Wednesday’s paper. Look it over and let me know.” She handed it to him and held onto to it a moment longer than necessary. “Can I ask you something?” she said.
He took the paper and looked down at it, and said, “I guess. What is it?”
“Have you ever been married?”
He looked up and smiled, “No, I haven’t.”
Her eyes brightened and she said, “I was once. He was killed in an accident on the river.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Emily.”
“Thank you. Sometimes it’s hard to be alone. How about you? Do you feel that sometimes?”
He swallowed hard, afraid to answer truthfully, yet feeling empathy. He sighed then said, “Once in awhile.”
She was thoughtful for a moment and Benjamin knew what was coming next so he decided to save her any embarrassment she might have at being what some might consider assertive, so he said, “Would you like to have dinner some night?”
“Oh, I would, yes I would.” There was excitement in her voice and he felt it move through him.
That following Friday night Benjamin learned a lot about Emily, how soft her lips were, how easily she fit into his arms, how expressive she was, and for the both of them the past was forgotten, their loneliness was no longer there, at least for a few hours. The excitement that she had felt at his invitation for dinner and the excitement he had felt at her response of desiring that, he knew went beyond a mere dinner invitation, and how right he had been. The excitement, the physical attraction, had been there not only for her but for him.
When he awoke the next morning in Emily’s bed, he could hear her in the kitchen and could smell coffee and bacon cooking. He felt good at first, but as he rolled over onto his back his thoughts went to Lucinda. It was her bed he wanted to be in, it was Lucinda he wanted in the kitchen cooking his breakfast. But for now .... He climbed out of bed and began to dress knowing he would make love once again before the day was over. He needed it as much as Emily did.
Chapter Sixty-two: Saturday, the 8th Day of April 1865
Camp in the Field
Dear wife,
I take this present opportunity to write you and let you know I am well and hearty at present.
Well Jane, we now are seizing the stronghold of Mobile, although we are about ten miles from the city. When I last wrote you we were at Fish River. We then moved on to these forts. We had no opposition until we got to the Rebels works except for some shells that the Rebels had planted in the road to blow us and our artillery up but it was discovered before many of our men got hurt. A few men and horses were badly hurt with the shells. Two deserters who came to our lines knew where the shells were planted and they assisted our men to get all out that they could find. Our brigade passed over the road without any damage from the shells. We camped the night of the 26th about two miles and a half of the forts. On the 27th we closed in on the Rebel works. The 19th Iowa was in the advance of our brigade. They got in a mile of the fort before they met the Rebs. It was about the middle of the day when they began the skirmish with the Johnnies (by this time it was raining), the 20th Wisconsin threw up the first breastwork. After this was complete our regiment advanced several hundred yards in front of this work (the 19th had driven the Rebs back). We threw up works in plain view of the fort and sharpshooters. The balls whistled about us considerably but fortunately none of us was hurt that night. We lay behind those works all night. The next morning we relieved the 20th Wisconsin on the skirmish line (the 20th had relieved the 19th in the evening) and before night we were in a half mile of the fort. We fought them there, behind logs, stumps, and anything that would shield us from the Rebel’s balls.
In the evening we were getting so nigh the top of the hill that we began to go farther and by morning we had tolerable good rifle pits. It was laughable to see the blue coats behind the logs and stumps. They would shoot awhile and then we could see them run for another log or stump. I fired considerably over a hundred rounds at the Johnnies that day. We were on the skirmish line twenty-four hours then relieved for twenty-four hours and then back to the rifle pits. We have been under fire since the 27th of March.
One old Johnny shot at me twice yesterday evening but a pole that was laying on top of our works stopped them both. I was standing close to the port hole a gawking at the Rebel works when one of the balls struck and threw dirt in my face and eyes. Some of the boys yelled out, “Sile get away from there, you will draw their fire!” The lieutenant colonel laughed and the joke passed on but I got out of range of that hole. I haven’t been struck yet but Charlie Town and I came very nigh getting struck by a piece of a shell. The piece of shell would weigh about three pounds. Although the balls have whistled around my head considerably we have not had a man killed in our regiment since we came here and only one to die of a wound and we have had but few wounded. We have not had a man in our company hurt yet so we have been very lucky so far. We have found three or four dead Rebels that were killed and left laying on the ground.
We are getting a great many heavy guns planted to bear on the Rebel’s fort. Our batteries opened the other evening on the Rebels. They have four or five forts here, Fort McCullock, Fort Savage, and Fort Spanish, and I do not know the name of the others. Fort Spanish was built by the Spanish when settling this country. Our brigade is on the left, resting on Mobile Bay and operating against Fort McCullock.
The Rebs don’t use many heavy guns. They opened on us yesterday with two guns, thinking to knock our breastworks down but they only got four shots at us. Our guns opened on them and they had to hide their guns. General Frederick Steele has set siege to Fort Blakely and he is about six miles from our right. There was as heavy cannonading in that direction last night and this morning as I have ever heard. What the consequences are, I don’t know. Some of General Thomas’s Cavalry has come through. Thomas has captured Selma without a struggle. He captured eight thousand prisoners, two months provisions for his army, two or three large foundries and shot factories. He made a clean thing of it and that place is a death blow to Mobile. The whole thing will be captured. Thomas and Canby are working to get here and if they work it right they will make a big thing of it. I have heard that the Rebel forces about Mobile is about 35,000 men, and they have a great many places to hold so that divides their forces. The Rebels at this place have their supplies cut off at present, and if we can keep it cut off we will have them in two or three weeks. The Rebs have a gun boat or two here and they cannot get out. General A. J. Smith is on the right and he has ten 32 pound Parrot guns and they command the channel. The Rebel’s boat undertook to dislodge this battery but she was glad to get out of range of those guns and let them alone. Our gun boats have not done anything yet only to take torpedoes out of the channel. Two of our monitors and one mosquito boat were sunk by those abominable things. One was a two-tiered monitor and sunk on a sand bar and broke in two. The other one probably will be raised. We belong to the First Brigade 2nd Division 13th AC. The AC is commanded by General Granger, our division by General Andrews, the 2nd Division is with Steele with the exception of our brigade. General Hawkins commands the Negro Division, three brigades and nine regiments, 5,500 strong. The Negroes are good soldiers but the Rebs pass rumors around to cause fear, saying otherwise, that they pillage and plunder.
This part of Alabama is very broken and a very poor country. We are in sight of Mobile. We can see the Rebel’s boats running around.
Well Jane, this will probably be my last letter until Mobile is taken so you need not expect any letters from me for awhile.
It is rumored that our brigade has the preference of being stationed at Mobile after it is captured until our time is out. The regiments in this brigade all go out about the same time. Well, I would like to see Mobile. It is said to be such a nice place and I would as soon stay there as any other place that I know of, but it is not our luck to get to stop at any place like that.
You said that Pap would like to have a Cavalry overcoat if I can get one for him. I will try to do it but it is getting too late in the season and I expect it will almost be impossible to get one now. I could have got all the coats that I wanted when we started this campaign but I had no way of taking care of them. I would like very much to have one for myself but I expect I cannot get one.
Well Jane, it is now the 18th of April and we captured the forts at 10:00 am of the 9th. I don’t know the exact number of prisoners that were taken. The forts were evacuated but very few Rebs got away. As soon as this place was taken our brigade was left to guard the prisoners and forts and the balance of the troops went to Fort Blakely and in a day or two they captured that. They got nigh three thousand prisoners at that place and they were sent down for us to guard. And yesterday the Stars and Stripes could be seen floating over Mobile.
Mobile was surrendering with two thousand State Militia. Two regiments of ours guarding prisoners say they are all boys. A portion of them are very small for soldiers.
From what I can learn we have captured about twenty thousand prisoners including those that General Thorne has captured, besides the killed and wounded. This campaign is one of the most successful campaigns I have ever seen. Our regiment is divided, part of them at the fort guarding prisoners and the balance of us here at Spanish Landing for fatigue and picket duty. I would not be surprised if we go back to Mississippi without seeing Mobile.
The mail will be going out so I have to close for now.
With affection, Silas
Chapter Sixty-three: Cincinnati, April 15, 1865
For the second time, Abraham Lincoln had stood on the steps of the Capitol in Washington and was reinvested with the leadership of the United States. On the 4th of March when he took the oath of office and entered his second term by an overwhelming majority of votes, the darkness that had been hanging over the country for a few years began to give way to a brighter day and a brighter promise.
The feeling that swept across the Union was one of hope that the golden rays of peace were beginning to be seen. One Union victory after another against the rebellion was occurring as Lee’s Army began falling away.
; President Lincoln had proven to be a man who had determination and once he had taken his stand he was not one to move off his course. It was believed his conduct was marked by truth, justice, compassion, and right. What he believed he believed with all his heart, and whatever he did, he did with precision, firmness, and the belief it was correct action.
It had been said numerous times that Abraham Lincoln was not a religious man, yet those who knew him well would say he was a good man with the love for God deep in his heart.
Rumor had often gone around that he talked to spirits of the dead and had spirit mediums visit the White House. Evidence presented by some pointed in that direction. Others said it was “hog wash.”
Whatever the truth was to be seen, he was enormously popular within the country and had international respect.
On the morning of April 9th, Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to Union General Ulysses Grant at Appomattox and the war was in all consideration, ended.
On April 15th, when the telegraph message reached the Cincinnati Daily Commercial Newspaper, Benjamin Storm could hardly believe his eyes.
Abraham Lincoln, the President of the United States, was shot by an assassin on the 14th and died the following morning.
He was sure Mr. Halstead would not be happy to hear the news. His boss personally knew Lincoln; he had covered his nomination in 1860 and had been to the White House concerning war details and intelligence he had gathered while being out in the field as a war correspondent.
“What the hell? How did that happen!” Halstead said as he read the message.
His reaction was like many reactions would be as word slowly spread across the country and, within weeks, around the world.
Corn Silk Days: Iowa, 1862 Page 31
