Love Finds You in Amana Iowa

by Melanie Dobson

  He dipped his pen into the inkwell and wrote another line on Amalie’s letter, but the words sounded too crass. He wanted Amalie to know how much he cared for her. How he didn’t want to leave her or their Kolonie. How he didn’t want to leave, but he knew he had to go.

  Something smoldered within him like the flame of the candle. A small voice that told him he was supposed to fight. Whether it was God’s Spirit or not, he wasn’t certain, but there was no peace in his heart at the thought of paying his way out of the army, nor could he allow his blood to be on another man’s hands. His government had conscripted him and he would fight.

  He didn’t want to hurt Amalie, but he didn’t know the right words to write in the letter, not without wounding her.

  Frustrated, he held the paper over the candle and let his words burn before he opened the stove’s door and threw the letter onto the smoldering ashes.

  How could he communicate all he was feeling to Amalie and to his parents? And to Matthias?

  They would think that Friedrich had abandoned them, without even saying good-bye. He had no desire to abandon any of them, but if he waited a month to see Amalie or until the autumn when his parents arrived, he knew he wouldn’t leave for war. They would talk him out of it, or he would talk himself out of it. And he would never forgive himself if he didn’t go.

  He slid another piece of paper onto his writing desk to begin a third letter to Amalie. There wasn’t much time left now. An hour at the most. He would have to leave under the cloak of darkness to avoid the questions, before even the baker began making bread for the day.

  He dipped his pen into the inkwell again and words began to flow from within him. He told Amalie that his heart was hers, but he couldn’t respect himself nor could he ever expect her to respect him if he didn’t fight for those who were enslaved. He told her about Joseph and the scars on the man’s arms. And he wrote about the wrenching in his heart, the powerful pull to fight for the wounded like David had written in the book of Psalms.

  Deliver the poor and needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked.

  But even as he scribbled his thoughts onto paper, the words seemed hollow. No amount of words nor the structure of them could make her understand why he had to join the Union forces. Amalie believed the shedding of blood was wrong, for any reason, and like Matthias, she probably believed God would right the wrong of slavery through a peaceful resolution. Only those who chose not to wait on God were drawn into the fight. Or at least, that was what she and Matthias and his family thought.

  With a loud sigh, he leaned back in his chair and reached for a yellowed envelope he kept at the edge of his desk. Opening it, he slid out the lock of hair Amalie cut for him in secret before he left Ebenezer, hours after he asked her to marry him when she moved to Amana. He rubbed her hair gently between his fingers. He had no likeness of her on paper, but even after three years, he could still envision the sculpting of her beautiful face in his mind, the vibrancy and strength in her eyes. He longed to see her face again, touch her skin, but he couldn’t let his desires thwart his determination to do what he believed to be right.

  Amalie Wiese was strong. She would be able to weather this season without him, like she’d done the past three years, and with God’s help, he would be able to weather it as well.

  He tucked the envelope with the lock of her hair into his pocket, and then he picked his pen back up and asked Amalie to wait longer for him. When the war was over, he wanted to marry her. He wrote about their future together, about their children, and as he wrote, he dreamed about the many years ahead that they would spend as man and wife.

  But in case something happened, in case he didn’t return in the next year or two like he planned, he wrote that he wanted her to live a life of dedication in the Amanas without him. And a life with love. He didn’t want her to be alone.

  After he sealed the letter with glue, he wrote her name on the back and then he wrote a letter to Matthias and one to his parents and placed them beside the one to Amalie.

  When the clock chimed four times, he blew out the candle. Ashes sprinkled over his hand as he brushed them into the stove. He strung his burlap bag over his shoulder, packed with a blanket, a change of clothes to wear until he received his uniform, the Gospel of John, and his coat.

  Leaning down, he kissed Amalie’s letter one last time. Then he placed his straw hat on his head and walked out the door.

  * * * * *

  Matthias Roemig tossed on his pillow, trying to force himself to sleep a few more minutes before the morning bells rang. His mind wouldn’t let him rest. It skipped across the bits of conversation he had with Friedrich yesterday. The questions Friedrich had about fighting in the war.

  The pull for Friedrich to fight was strong; he could hear it in his friend’s voice and see it in his face. The passion that burned in Friedrich often challenged Matthias, and sometimes even changed his perspective, but this time it was his turn to influence Friedrich and make him understand that this war wasn’t his burden to carry. Their responsibility was to help build their community and pray that the war, along with slavery, would end soon.

  Kneeling beside his bed, Matthias prayed for God’s blessing on his day, and he prayed that God would work in Friedrich’s heart to give him the peace he sought. Each person in the Kolonie was on a journey to follow after their Lord, but Friedrich seemed to search more than any of them, trying to balance the desires in his heart with the will of the Lord.

  He understood why Friedrich felt like he should fight. The thought of slavery sickened Matthias, along with the stories tourists told of children being sold on auction blocks and owners who treated people like property. He didn’t know enough, though, to separate truth from propaganda. Some of the stories seemed to be generated by a government that needed men to fight its war.

  His hands resting on his comforter, his head bowed in humility, Matthias begged God for the wisdom he needed to speak to Friedrich. Wisdom to help his friend realize he didn’t need to feel guilty because he chose to stand for peace instead of fight. The burden of this war should be dropped at the foot of the cross and left there.

  He knelt in the stillness of the morning for another five minutes, until the bells began to toll, and then he slowly rose from the hard floor and brushed off his knees. It felt as if God’s Spirit of peace stole into his room along with the morning sunlight. Today the elders would pay fees to relieve him and Friedrich from their obligation to go into battle or hire substitutes to fight in their place. They needed to keep their focus on building the villages and supplying food for their people instead of on the worries of the world far away from them.

  His hand traveled over his bedpost. He didn’t have to choose a side in this awful war to know that God loved the slaves and the soldiers and even the slave owners.

  For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to fight in a battle. The comforts of Amana he could live without, but he couldn’t fathom hunting down his fellow man like a deer or a wild turkey. It must break God’s heart to see His children killing each other.

  Matthias put on his hat and reached for the door. The wickedness of slavery made him tremble in his core. But thousands upon thousands of people who didn’t own slaves were dying as a result of this conflict between the states. If only the leaders of both the North and South would seek God’s face, like Brother Metz entreated of them. If only they sought peace while seeking freedom for the slaves, the war could end without another battle.

  Stepping into the hallway, Matthias glanced at the closed door across from his room. Usually his friend was waiting for him in the hall by the cedar wardrobe, ready to begin his day, but Friedrich wasn’t waiting today. Perhaps he was still in prayer, asking for help, like Matthias had done this morning.

  Matthias hesitated beside the closed door, but when Friedrich still didn’t come out for breakfast, he knocked. If they didn’t hurry to the kitchen house, they wouldn’t be able to eat before their long day of work began—and neither he
nor Friedrich ever missed a meal.

  “Are you ready?” he called out.

  Silence met his call.

  “Friedrich?” he called again as he turned the knob.

  The dark purple quilt on Friedrich’s bed was neatly made, his curtain closed. For a moment, Matthias thought Friedrich had left for breakfast without him, but before he slipped back into the hallway, he saw the envelopes set on the desk. There were three of them, neatly placed across the wooden top.

  Even though he saw the envelopes, seconds passed before Matthias began to comprehend what Friedrich had done. He knew what was in the envelopes, knew Friedrich had left him, but he didn’t want to acknowledge the truth.

  As he stepped to the desk, he saw a letter for Amalie and one for Friedrich’s parents. He left both of those on the desk, but he took the envelope addressed with his name and hid it in his pocket. He wouldn’t read the words Friedrich had written to him. Instead he would go to Marengo right away, and he would stop Friedrich before he made this foolish choice. He’d stop him and hand back his envelope without reading a word.

  Racing down the steps two at a time, he pushed open the front door and burst out into the morning air.

  It wasn’t too late to stop his friend. The conscription letters said they were to report to Marengo at eight thirty, two hours from now. Brother Schaube was planning to meet the colonel this morning to negotiate the commutation fees for seven Amana men. Together they would stop Friedrich from joining the regiment, and then they would bring him home before anyone knew he had tried to leave.

  He found Brother Schaube in the kitchen house, eating sausage and pancakes. Matthias didn’t waste precious seconds greeting his other brothers as he shuffled around the benches and tables to the elder’s side.

  “Guten Morgen,” the head elder whispered as Matthias scooted into the seat beside him.

  Matthias leaned close to him, speaking low as well so the others couldn’t hear. “He’s gone.”

  Brother Schaube’s eyes widened with alarm. “Friedrich?”

  Matthias nodded.

  “When did he leave?”

  “I don’t know. I was just in his room, and he left letters for Amalie and his parents.” He didn’t mention the one in his pocket—those words were written for him.

  Brother Schaube wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin and stood. “We must go to Marengo at once.”

  The others watched them leave before breakfast was finished, before Sophia served second cups of coffee or they closed in prayer. A hundred questions must be swirling through the minds of the men and women, but if they retrieved Friedrich before supper, no one needed to know he almost left them.

  At the stable, Matthias and Brother Schaube each saddled a horse, and within a half hour, they were riding west. Two miles outside Amana, they rode through the village of Middle Amana and then they passed though High and West Amana. People waved to them, but they didn’t stop to greet their brothers and sisters like they normally would. The property of the Inspirationists ended after South Amana, and they followed the dirt road for six more miles until they arrived in the county seat of Marengo.

  Matthias had only been to the town once, earlier this year when all the men in Iowa County were required to have a physical in case the government mustered them to service in the military. He didn’t remember where the enlistment office was located, but Brother Schaube directed them toward the courthouse. They hitched their horses a full half hour before the newly drafted men were supposed to arrive.

  Brother Schaube went straight to the enlistment office on the bottom floor, past the line of almost twenty men standing outside the office with an assortment of suitcases and bags in their hands. Some of the men wore tattered clothes while others were dressed in as fine of suits as Matthias had ever seen.

  Matthias searched their faces, but he didn’t see Friedrich among them. Could he have been wrong about Friedrich’s letters? Perhaps his friend wasn’t coming to join this regiment. Perhaps he was running away from Amana.

  His fingers slipped over the letter in his pocket. Friedrich had too much honor in him to flee from this situation, certainly when the elders were willing to pay for someone else to take his place in the infantry. But even if the elders didn’t pay the commutation fees, he couldn’t imagine Friedrich running away.

  When Brother Schaube didn’t see Friedrich among the group of waiting men, he marched to the front of the line and knocked on the door of the enlistment office.

  “We’ll be ready in a half hour,” someone barked on the other side.

  Brother Schaube leaned toward the wood, his voice firm. “I need to speak with you right away.”

  The door whisked open, and on the other side stood an older gentleman with white hair and a trimmed beard. When he saw Brother Schaube, his voice hardened even more. “The government requested seven of your men to join our regiment.”

  Brother Schaube held out a leather satchel toward him. “I am here to pay their fees.”

  The officer swore, lifting the hand that was wrapped around his cane. “I form regiments. I don’t take blood money.”

  Brother Schaube lowered the satchel. “But I need to pay for their exemption.”

  “I’m sure someone in Des Moines will be glad to take your money,” the officer said. “But you’ll only have to pay the fees for six exemptions.”

  “Seven of them were conscripted,” Brother Schaube insisted.

  The officer stood a bit straighter, a tinge of pride coloring the harshness in his voice. “One of your men has chosen to serve with us.”

  Matthias could hear people talking behind the officer. He looked over the man’s wide shoulders to see who else was in the office, but he couldn’t see anyone.

  “We are here to get Friedrich Vinzenz.” Brother Schaube held out an official-looking notice. “This letter is from Governor Samuel Kirkwood, and it says if we choose not to fight because of religious reasons, we can pay for our men to be released from duty.”

  “Private Vinzenz has the ability to choose on his own whether or not he wants to join us.”

  “Friedrich is not a private,” the elder said. “He is our brother.”

  With a shrug, the colonel began to push the door shut with his cane. Matthias stepped forward, stopping him. “Please let me speak with him one last time. Just to tell him good-bye.”

  “I’m sorry. Private Vinzenz has been removed to a different location to await his orders.”

  Standing in the crowded hallway, Matthias felt like his chest was about to erupt. Friedrich was there, behind that door. He couldn’t see him, but he knew Friedrich was there. Still his friend didn’t speak up.

  Friedrich had never turned him away before. But now, on the eve of going to war against an unknown enemy, he didn’t even have the courage to say good-bye to those who loved him.

  “Tell him not to do this,” Matthias said.

  “I will tell him no such thing.”

  “Then tell him that he better come back home to us as soon as he can.”

  When the colonel slammed the door shut, Matthias prayed Friedrich had heard his words and that he would harbor them. His friend must come back to the Kolonie when this war was done.

  He and Brother Schaube moved back down the long corridor, past all the men waiting to join the new regiment. Frustration burned within Matthias. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to leave the Society, for any reason.

  “We can’t let him join the army.”

  Brother Schaube bowed his head, his voice sad. “This is his choice, Matthias. We cannot force him to stay.”

  “Friedrich doesn’t know what he is doing,” Matthias insisted. “He doesn’t know what awaits him out there.”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain.”

  Matthias wanted to believe Friedrich didn’t have any idea how much his decision would hurt all those around him, because if he knew…

  If he knew, how could he leave them?

  “Go home,” Brother Schaube
instructed. “I have business I must attend to before I return.”

  In a daze, Matthias stumbled out of the courthouse. Somehow he managed to mount his horse again, and as he rounded the block, he looked back at the courthouse one last time. He hadn’t cried since he was five years old—the day his mother left him—but the tears came now unbidden. For a moment, he felt like that five-year-old again. Abandoned and alone.

  The tears flowed harder now. He wanted to make them stop, but he couldn’t control himself. How could his closest friend—his brother—abandon him? Friedrich knew how much Matthias hated people leaving him, especially with no good-bye.

  He and Friedrich had been the best of friends since that day his mother left him at the estate in Hesse-Darmstadt and never returned. He traveled the long journey with Friedrich’s family from Germany to New York when he and Friedrich were both seven, and for almost twenty years, they had eaten every meal together, worked together, fished together, prayed together.

  He wiped the back of his sleeve over his face, hoping at first that the townspeople would think his cheeks itched, but then he realized he didn’t care. He dared anyone to say he didn’t have a right to his tears.

  In three weeks, the wagon train would arrive from New York. What was he going to say to Amalie? Friedrich had been faithful to her over the past three years, he could assure her of that, but she would probably blame him for Friedrich leaving, and he wouldn’t stop her.

  He should have talked more with Friedrich. Prayed more. Now his friend was gone, and he had no idea when, or if, he would come back.

  Whichever way my eyes are turning, Thy wondrous

  works I can behold.

  I bow my head in adoration to see Thy majesties untold.

  Author Unknown

  Chapter Eight

  August 1863

  Mist draped over the Iowa River and swept through a grove of cedar trees. Pink mantled the horizon in front of the wagon train as the darkness welcomed dawn. Long before the sun began to warm the day, Amalie and the other travelers from Ebenezer had awakened to begin their final trek. After more than a month of traveling, they would finally be home.