CWT Serial 1 Seth & M

[dawna]

Dear Seth:

I can only be thankful to learn that you have survived yet another Picket duty, and that William, Kevin, and Bryce still walk amongst us. It would seem that like Marius, his new owner has inherited the gift of nine lives, or Bryce has a devoted benefactor who paves the way before him. The injuries that you speak of are horrific to me, and made even more so because I witnessed them first hand at Perryville. To see another human being destroyed beyond imagination or forced to live in crippled exile is something I wish that I had no knowledge of, and yet this is something that somehow binds us together.

I have no doubt that the Rebels you speak of were as courageous as the men who opposed them. I often hear of the tenacity and determination of General Lee's army and I am certain that they believe their cause to be as just and Holy as that of the Union army. This long suffering war, and the men who I have met on both sides of the conflict through my circumstances at Madame Josephine's, has given me the opportunity to understand the hopes and dreams of both sides. No one man with an ideal can ever speak a truth that sparks the soul more than the defender of his own cause. I think that you would not tell me differently.

There is no disparity in the hearts of the men in these armies Seth. What rough beast roared and started this war? I will fight for the Union....I will withdraw from this oppressive atmosphere...lofty ideals for boys fresh off the farm and eager to prove their patriotism to home and country. But there is a tempest much greater than the convictions that have been sketched on the faces of men who have died thus far. I shouldn't speak so boldly, but in the language of sober earnestness, I convey my feelings of bitterness and anger to you in a way that I hope you will understand.

I anguish over what these trying times have cost our country, and the families that have been mercilessly robbed of their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers. I grieve over the people who I have loved and lost to battle, or in less deceptive ways, but my suffering pales in comparison to that of so many others. I fear that this war will never end , that the land will never heal, and that it will remain a tapestry of shriveled threads, scorched borders, and fading, hopeless colours of despair.

While brave men like you continue to fight and die in masses, a pittance of greedy politicians sit smugly by the warmth and light of their fires, whilst lining their pockets with the blood and tears of this country's finest and most innocent. I curse every one of them - for their greed and for their vulgar attempts at compromise and conciliation. Perhaps I'm guilty of ignorant expectations, but it was they who brought this dark cloud over the land, and then ran for shelter when the heavens opened up and the rains came down in torrents. It is easy to fill your heart with self righteousness and spew out heated words, whilst sitting under a protective umbrella of deceitful calm. But I beg you to forgive my ramblings - I have had too much time to myself as of late and it is apparent that my opinions and wounds have opened up and festered far beyond my imagination.

I commend Sebastian for giving up his saddle blanket to bury Major Samson Clairview. A brave man with such a strong name deserves no less.

I am distressed to learn that the Rebels have taken your copy of Plutarch, but I no longer have use for my Parallel Lives and I would be pleased for you to have it. It would mean a great deal if you would accept such a gift from me, and perhaps when life is a little kinder, you might even read parts of Alexander to me.

Erik has taken me out walking every day this past week and I now feel strong enough to meet with you....perhaps we could stroll along the river again..I would like that.

Until then, I remain your friend,

The only reward of virtue is virtue; the only way to have a friend is to be one. ~Emerson~

Maxine

 

[johan_steele]

My friend Maxine,

I thank you for receiving me into the parlor last eve and joining me for a walk under the stars. I have rarely enjoyed myself such; it is rare to be able to forget this war and you gifted me with that opportunity.

Your gift of your copy of Plutarch, I must admit that it very nearly drove me to tears. I have asked Mrs Steele to make a sack that I might place it in to keep it clean while in my haversack. I am glad to know a woman who does not hate me because I wear the blue uniform of the Union. The hatred exhibited towards my friends and I can be crushing at times. The scorn and vile words cast upon Mrs Steele and Emaline are even more maddening. Again I thank you for helping me to realize that not all of the women of the South are hateful.

The Unionist women I have met seem little different than the women from home, as do those who support the Rebellion. They are women with families and children, hopes and dreams the same as any Union woman. But I fear that they hate us and always will. Thank you for giving me the hope that our nation might one day be one again after this war ends.

As you know I received a letter from my sister. She wishes my opinion on the matter of the woman's right to vote. I know my sister and I think I know your mind. Mrs Steele is quite intelligent and full of common sense. I do not fear the wisdom of such women. Why should you not be allowed the vote. There are women who I fear giving the power of deciding the direction of our political process. Though to be honest there are men who are far less worthy of the vote.

We are to leave soon on our furlough, a date has not yet been given us but I suspect we will be on our way in a week or two. I know I am looking forward to seeing my family and our farm. I would like nothing better than to have you and your friend Erik accompany us. My sister has agreed to have a room made up for your use and has taken my suggestions to heart.

I must make this letter short as I have been ordered upon a wood gathering detail.

God Bless and Keep you my friend.

Seth Barnaby

 

[dawna]

Dear Seth:

It was an unexpected pleasure to find you waiting in Madame Josephine's parlour last evening, and this morning I've risen with a sense of well being and renewed vigor. To temper your visit with a walk along the Tennesse has been the necessary medicine that no doctor could have prescribed for my ailing spirits and weakened condition. Even Erik no longer watches over me whilst I'm in your company, and there is no greater compliment that you could receive from my loyal friend.

I'm certain that you must have been shocked by my appearance, and yet your eyes did not deceive me into thinking otherwise. The dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and my poor appetite of late has convinced my employer that I might represent lost revenue for additional weeks to come; but when I'm in your company Seth, I feel my current appearance is of little consequence and if you were dismayed in any way, your good manners did not betray your feelings. This means more to me than you can imagine.

It troubles me deeply to hear that you have been treated with such disdain by some of the women in the South, and it further grieves me to hear that Mrs. Steele and young Emaline have also been assailed with such abuse. As your army is fighting for what they believe in and protecting what they hold to be dear, the same can be said for women in the South. I have met soldiers on both sides of this conflict who are bitter and full of hatred for their opponents, and you have also met women who openly display such feelings. But they have been brought to their knees by despair and sorrow, and whilst it must be difficult to find yourself the receiver of such scorn, contempt and vile words are the only weapons apportioned to the opposite sex.

Hopes and dreams do not know borders, and fear, sorrow, and frustation takes it's toll in ways that we often do not understand. As vulgar and unseemingly as it is to be treated in such a way by any woman, my hope is that you might look beyond their hostilities and understand that they suffer too, and their losses are insurmountable. Hatred can be scattered with the least kind gesture, or an attempt at gentle understanding. And oft times it is better to turn the other cheek.

I have no doubt that our nation will heal but these wounds will bleed and fester far longer than we can imagine. You have told me in the past that you expected to be returning home to your family after a few short months of enlisting- that this insurrection would briefly stay it's course and diminish with the appropriate amount of glory. But I suspect both armies of this conflict have been equally surprised at the strength and determination of the other, and the depth of feeling that has been stirred within the hearts of soldiers and civilians alike.

There is always hope. It floats like feathers on a soft spring day and beckons to the distant believer. We all share joy and sorrow and no doubt these are the very things which will bring our nation back together again.

As for women having the right to vote Seth, fear is to be expected when such a novel idea is presented, but I am both excited and made happy by this proposition - there is no longer a reason that men can give for women not having the right to vote. It pleases me to know that you feel this way as well.

I am making plans to visit my dear friend Alethea in Salisbury, but perhaps Erik and I might visit with you at your farm before my departure...I long to see your homestead and to finally meet your family.

I pray for your safety and good health.

I remain your Friend,

Mattie.

"Men in rage strike those that wish them best." ~Shakespeare~

 

[johan_steele]

My friend Maxine,

I fear you do not know what you say. You speak of Salisbury. That will be a long and dangerous journey I think. Is it not well behind the lines? Between evading Union and Rebel patrols and doing your best to keep your friend Erik from being conscripted into some work gang I fear you will not have a pleasant journey. If that is not bad enough you will face the danger of being arrested as a spy, by both parties. Your best coarse may be to travel as a refugee trying to reach family; but even that I fear would not protect your friend.

Going to Minnesota, while less dangerous can be no less daunting a thought. It is a far longer travel and perhaps more arduous because of the distance. What must you imagine of my motives for suggesting such a thing.

Mrs Steele sat me down this morn and had a long talk with me about appearances. I curse my naivette; oh how I must have offended you at my suggestion that you travel more than a thousand miles from your friends and those you know. And to a strange mans home no less; on the mere offer of a safe hospice away from the fields of war. While you are wise in the base and insidious ways of man what thoughts of my intentions must have crossed your mind? While my offer was made in the naive way of a boy, Mrs Steele has educated me in the responsability of a man. There is indeed a home waiting you in Minnesota should you choose to accept it and there are no evil plots intended for you or your friend should you choose to accept the invitation. My sister has promised to welcome you to our family with open arms. I know her heart, she is a good Christian soul, and she speaks her heart. She would no doubt seek to make certain your soul was intent upon Christ.

I do not offer my home to you as a way to steal or bribe your affections. I feel that you have become a friend and I would willingly offer my home up to your safety and well being. I would offer you a place to start your life over again, away from the things that remind you of your loss in life. Perhaps, a fresh start at life. I have suggested that you might be the companion young Emaline as I feel the two of you might travel together well and perhaps become friends. I pray my suggestions have not troubled or offended you.

The lands of Minnesota are still quite wild, less than ten years ago they were still the property of Indians and have only recently been settled. The terrible Sioux War of last winter is only a reminder of how close to the frontier we are. New Ulm, where the worst of the fighting and killing was, is only a two day march for an Indian War party from my homestead. The rule of law is often uncertain, part of the reason my sister keeps a loaded scattergun close to the door. The winters are bitter cold and the summer quite hot, the work is backbreaking but rewarding. When I spoke of my home I do not believe I made it clear just how much work is there. It is not a large and grand plantation like as I have seen here in the South. There is no grand veranda and no servents. Only a nice snug house, barn and a few outbuildings. But it is my home and I offer it to a friend as a place of safety away from the War.

I am tired and worn by both todays wood detail and by this war. I have aged and matured in such ways that I fear my family will not recognize me; I shall be as a stranger in my own home. It has been so long since I have slept in a bed that I doubt I could do anything but unroll my blanketroll upon the floorboards in front of the fireplace. The Corporal says that war ages a man, changes him. He is right, I fear not being able to speak to my sister of what horrors I have seen. She cannot understand and it is not fair of me to ask her to.

When I look into your eyes my friend and we talk of life and philosophy, I see that you understand what I speak of. You have been touched by this war in ways that I understand and you have seen many of the same horrors as I. THere is a connection between us that can only occur between two friends who have suffered and toiled in similar ways.

I will end this rambling letter with hope. I hope and pray that we make it back to a world where peace and prosperity hold sway over hate and war.

God Bless and Keep you my friend.

Seth Barnaby

 

[dawna]

Dear Seth:

Sven arrived with your letter as I was leaving for a walk, and since it was such a beautiful day, I could think of no more pleasant past time than to read your letter along the banks of the Tennessee. I retraced our steps from our recent meeting, and found the spot that you had cleared for me where I could rest, and we could speak with more private discourse.

I waited until Erik had left on an errand for Madame Josephine before taking my walk, as I felt the need for solitude, and to have a small adventure on my own, no matter how simplistic it might be in nature. Between reading your lines and the warmth of the spring sun, I found myself lulled into a dream-like sleep, and I know not how long I remained cloaked in such peaceful oblivion. Only that I drifted into this state with complete abandonment, whilst dreaming of Minnesota, Salisbury and homesteads; but as if no time had elapsed, I was suddenly awoken to the sound of Erik calling my name with increasing despair. I confess that I fell prey to my friend's sharp and foreign language for what seemed like an eternity, and that I had caused Erik such alarm was the least of my intentions.

It is difficult to explain to my friend that there are times when my restless heart requires little logic or considers practical consternation to others; and although these are dangerous times and I am a woman, I take these risks because they are necessary to restore a semblance of freedom into my life. But Erik yet does not understand this about me and as much as I try not to worry my devoted friend, his angst at times defeats the purpose of my occasional quest for personal revelations.

Please understand that I am not in the least offended by your proposal and that I do, with all sincerity, believe your motives are true and offered with a pure heart and generous spirit. I know with a certainty that you have no wish to change the course of my affections for you, and that our friendship has blossomed into a mutal understanding and concern for each other's well being.

It is not hard work that I am afraid of Seth, or a vast land with primitive settings, or even the loss of the dear friendships that I have cultivated this past year whilst living in Chattanooga. Mrs. Steele has put forth a powerful argument to you on my behalf, but please believe that I have no fear there could be designs on your part to steal my heart. My only fear is that there is no heart left to pillage.

I will speak plainly to you now in this matter as I've wanted to for sometime, and it has only been of late that I have felt the need to purge my soul to you with such confessions. We speak of life, philosophy and dreams that have sustained us through this war. But I fear that no matter where I go, I am ruined beyond all reckoning, and that like this land, my heart will never recover - that the damage is irrepairable, and complete.

I may find satisfaction in work and in tutoring young Emaline and other children in a strange, new place, and it is certain that I have always greeted each new adventure with fresh excitement and renewed vigor. But now I feel as if I have left parts of myself scattered throughout Kentucky and Tennesse, and I wonder that the most important part of me has become irretrievable. Your sister is more deserving of a woman who still has a heart, and not a stranger who excels only in logic.

I kept my passion for Samuel well hidden and even he was not aware of the full extent of my affections for him. It is not important that my husand was the first man to capture my heart or that his deception was cold and calculating from the onset, but that the true nature of Samuel's motives were carefully hidden until after my Father's death are still difficult for me to bear. To know that my husand bided his time until I no longer basked within the protection of my Father's watchful eye, has been distressing enough, but I fear now that Samuel may have had something to do with my Father's accidental death two years past. But this will never be proven, and it is much to my chagrin that I will live with this uncertainty for the rest of my life.

The two men that I loved most in this world are gone, and each took a different part of me that I can't seem to put back together again, or reconcile one to the other. Samuel set me on a course that I could never have predicted, and now finally, this war has chilled me to the bone. I fear that I am now made of winter and ice, and that even the hottest summer sun will not be enough to melt through to my empty, disillusioned soul.

But I must ask you to forgive my ramblings and I will not speak of these things again. Although there are things that needed to be said between us, and please thank Mrs. Steele for her attempts to enlighten you in the ways of the female mind as I respect her views in all matters, but in this instance it is my heart that is in question, and not your motives.

With affection, I remain your friend,

Maxine.

"It's not enough to speak, but to speak true".
~Shakespeare~

 

[johan_steele]

My friend Maxine,

I am a Christian man, I hope a good one. I have fallen from his way some but have made every effort to get back upon the path. This war has challenged all who have been touché by its foul tendrils. Day after day, month after month and now it has stretched into years surrounded by death and suffering. The fearful fever, dysentery, a bullet are all killers that shake our faith in the good Lord. How can he allow such carnage? Then one realizes that there is no favoritism when the angel of death hover near; for the good men fall as easily as the evil. When the man beside you falls to the efforts of the enemy and you are untouched… what is the purpose of my survival? Why did the Lord take that man and not I? Am I somehow more worthy of life than he? In the same vein why is it that the good God fearing man is slain and the thief standing next to him is spared? God must have a purpose in the charnel house.

I hope and pray that I might better serve the purpose of the Lord, that I might be worthy when he calls me to him. I know not what that purpose might be, but I wish to do my utmost.

I try to keep my Christian ideals alive in the midst of this place. Is Christ here now, is he that anonymous man down the line? If so, would I know him? I must act as though the next man I meet might be the Christ.
I look with contempt upon those who have referred to you as "merely a whore.". Oh how foolish they are who might think such. John chapter 4 has the story of the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus did not look down upon her, instead he offered her the living water. In chapter 5 Jesus healed a crippled man who had no idea that he was in the presence of the Christ. I do not doubt that Christ might be among us today and we would never know it. It is so easy to become jaded and cold towards life and contemptuous of death.

If I might help someone just a little, if I might change one life for the better then I must do so. For thirty years Jesus lived on this world as a man. He had a trade, ate slept, used the sinks and experienced the hardships and trials we face every day and he overcame them so that we might see what was possible.

I look to my comrades and despair for many have lost their faith and perhaps even their immortal soul. My friend Corporal Steele has lost his faith I think. His experiences have caused him to question the existence of God. I can influence him only through example, by showing him that my faith is there regardless… mayhap I shall put some of that faith back into him. He is a good man at heart, but that heart has been scarred and hardened by a life I do not wish to imagine.

You have suffered hardships and pain that are unfathomable to me. If I can help you to recover just a touch of that lost faith, if I can spark that need that reintroduces God into your life… Then perhaps yours is the one life I am destined to touch in this terrible time.

In just a few days the Regiment is to leave north upon furlough. Corporal Steele, his wife and several others are to leave with an Iowa Regiment on detached duty. We are taking Sven and Emaline with us and I hope to find them a safe home. I fear though that young Emaline will return with us. Her family is gone, she has come to look upon us as her family. She has brought her case before the Captain and wishes to become a laundress as Mrs. Steele. I think without a woman she might call companion and friend there is little chance she will remain out of harms way. I believe where she goes Sven will follow, he is loyal beyond question to those he would call friend.

All I can do now is to pray. When we return we shall begin a campaign against a determined and valiant foe, a campaign where some of us are bound to fall. If I am one of those who fall; I hope to face the judgment of God with the knowledge that I did his will.

I am your friend, I hope that I might do something to help you.

God Bless and Keep You.

Seth Barnaby

 

[dawna]

Dear Seth:

I hope that you will forgive me for not writing before this late date. Erik and I have spoken long into the night these past several days, and given much thought to your generous offer of a new life in Minnesota. I think this opportunity would benefit Erik even more so than I as he has always craved adventure, and employment at Madame Josehine's has served only as passage to the next chapter in my faithful friend's existence.

How I envy your faith in God and the daily strength that you are able to summon forth as a result of your convictions. I see a purity in you that is both beguiling and astonishing. I wonder how it is that you have bound your moral values and faith into a tie so strong that they appear to be unshakable? After three long, arduous years and the many horrors that you have witnessed, yet still I see you smile and offer hope to a hardened man such as Corporal Steele...and now me, knowing that my faith has long departed. Yet therein your strength must prevail - to lead lost and chapfallen souls back into the fold. Your family has much to be proud of Seth and I'm pleased that you have become one of my dearest friends.

I am hopeful that a kinder atmosphere might be the root that is needed again to anchor my faith in God, and refurbish some of my more weakened philosophies. I should like to try this undertaking and to assist Miss Emaline in whatever capacity you might think is best. Erik will prove himself to be an invaluable farm hand, cook, and staunch protector of Carlie's homestead in your absence.

I have heard the word "whore" on the lips of men in my employer's establishment with such frequency that I fear its effects are no longer vulgar to my ears. I often think of the hyprocricy of men who use these words in polite company with much disdain and when they are not procuring my services. I may openly exchange my flesh within the confines of Madame Josephine's brothel, but these men forfeit their honesty and honour by living in two worlds, whilst being trustworthy to neither.

When I lay my head to rest at night I think of you, and I marvel at the extraordinary circumstances which have brought our lives together. Perhaps it is God's will that we met and the true reasons I may never know, but I feel as if a hand has been extended to me, and although I falter, it will hereafter lead me back to home and hearth.

I remain your friend,

Maxine

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
~Shakespeare~

 

[johan_steele]

I shall address this letter to my two best friends of the female persuasion Maxina and my Little Sister.

I hope and pray that this letter finds you well and safe. I also hope that all are settling into the homestead with little problem. My furlough was a gift from God, as it was for all of us. To see home again, to visit with loved ones whom I cherish above life itself; the only thing I can ask the Lord for after this is that this terrible War of Rebellion might end quickly so that I might see you again.

The return of the Regiment to the war was more easily done than our return home. There was a service today for the man from K Company and the five laundresses who died with the collision of trains at Anderson Station. That was a tragic beginning to our furlough but I thank God that was the worst that happened. It has been rumored that one Illinois Regiment was attacked by a Copperhead mob on their way back to the front. We have come to expect nothing less from the Copperheads.

We took passage back to the War on the Steamboat "Itasca" and picked up the Corporal and his wife along with a few dozen recruits for an Iowa Regiment at Macgregor Iowa. It is a pleasant little town nestled among the bluffs. We continued on the river as far south as Dunlieth where we took rail to Cairo and from there took another boat to Nashville. From there we again boarded a train to Huntsville and arrived on the 4th of May. There was precious little marching to be done and for that our feet are thankful. We have began our preparations for the upcoming campaign. There is no doubt where we are going; Atlanta.

The rebel General Johnston may have something to say about how quickly we arrive. I rather expect a spirited dance. We shall have a hard time of it I think. The word going around camp, I think it true, is that we are to take to the rails again as far as Kingston Georgia. As the Regiment has a well deserved reputation for doing our duty as Provosts faithfully we shall be doing that duty there. There is also a rumor that a Company of the regiment shall be assigned detached duty as a Provost under the direct command of General McPherson. I hope that is the truth as we are quite fond of him and think him a decent sort. In any instance I think it unlikely that we shall see battle in the line; though I have no illusions that merely a temporary duty.

Most of us would prefer the line as in garrison duty the only enemies likely to face us are disease and guerillas. Neither an opponent we have much respect for. The guerillas in this area have gained a poor reputation as robbers and murderers who the rebels only reluctantly call their own.

There has been word that Corporal Steele might be promoted again to Sergeant; if so he deserves it. He is a good man and has done quite well by us.

The Corporal has grabbed Kevin and I to retrieve rations for the Company, so I shall have to finish this letter.

God Bless and keep you all.

Your Brother and friend

 

[johan_steele]

My Sister and friends

I hope and pray that this letter finds you well and truly settled in, I trust the weather has treated the farm stead well. Mr Erik and Sven I'm certain are a welcome addition to the male portion of the household, I am rather certain Rusty no longer feels completely outnumbered by the fairer class of our species.

You must tell Ms Emaline that a Private from F Company has asked after her welfare and gone so far as to ask my permission to court her upon the completion of his enlistment. I think him a little mad to ask me but he has. When he asked the Corporal's wife as to her whereabouts I was pointed out as her guardian! If that fails to amuse you I can think of little that will. You see he thought me her father! I was quite surprised to learn such; what pray tell will I look like in another year?

We are well and truly in the heart of Dixie here in Kingston. We do Provost as there is no law without us and precious little with us. But even here in the heart of Rebellion there are many loyal men and women who refused to forsake the grand old flag. There is no North and South, only Rebel or loyal man. It is a pleasant enough area with pretty country as far as the eye can see, though it is considerably warmer than home. The scars of war are mild compared to Vicksburg or Chatanooga. I have seen several widows of brave rebel soldiers come to the Provost Marshall with requests for aid and all have been granted once they agreed to take the oath. Some call it "Choking upon the eagle" but I disagree; why should the government provide aid to those who despise her and would do her harm?

There is a persistent rumor about camp that one company will be placed on detached duty as a guard for General. It has been said so often that I have come to discount it. Though, to be honest it would not be bad duty. Sleep in tents, good rations and other benefits. I have eaten coarse rations and slept with only a rubber blanket as shelter far too often not to appreciate comfort. Regardless of the truth of it I believe I shall have to start polishing my brass again.

We are slated for a patrol of the newly repaired railroad so I will end this note by enclosing a bit of humor. Last October before Missionary Ridge General Greary repulsed an attack by Hampton's men of Longstreet's corps. I understand it was a hard fight and a very close run thing until the pack mules stampeded through the Rebel lines and caused panic and confusion as they thought they were attacked by Union Cavalry. Some soldier with a sense of humor and perhaps too much wit put this to the "Charge of the Light Brigade" immortalized by Tennyson. I hope you will enjoy.

God Bless and Keep You

Your Brother and friend

Seth Barnaby

Charge of the Mule Brigade

Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right through the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.

"Forward the Mule Brigade!
Charge for the Rebs!" they neighed.
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.

"Forward the Mule Brigade!"
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when the long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
On! To the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.

Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines,
Breaking through Longstreet's lines
Into the Georgia troops,
Stormed the two hundred.

Wild all their eyes did glare,
Whisked all their tails in the air
Scattering the chivalry there,
While all the world wondered.
Not a mule back bestraddle,
Yet how they all skedaddled-
Fled every Georgian,
Unsabred, unsaddled,
Scattered and sundered!
How they were routed there
By the two hundred!

Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
Followed by hoof and head
Full many a hero fled,
Fain in the last ditch dead,
Back from an ***'s jaw
All that was left of them,-
Left by the two hundred.

When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Mule Brigade,
Long-eared two hundred!​

 

[AmericanGirl]

Mrs Steele,



How is everyone fairing? Well, I hope. I apologize for not being able to correspond with you as often as I would like. Are the men doing alright, free of disease and such? We have just heard word of more fever going through the camps; it seems to be spreading like a wildfire through the driest plain.



The chores here have been excruciating and tedious. Food is somewhat short as we are trying to spare as much as we can. People keep turning up every which way you look. Assure Seth that his sisters are well; talk of murder has taken place but his Aunt Rosemary is safe for now. Sometimes I think I would rather bite the bullet than put up with her another day. The girls are opening up more; we've been trying to get Celia talk more about the good times she had with her husband. The other day we had a chance to ride into town. Town looks deserted compared to before the War. Gossip going around is that the War should soon be over; we want to believe but… we can all try to believe what we want but that does not make it so.



Mrs. Maxine seems to have changed almost overnight. If you knew not of her past you would not guess what it had been. We are excited about our attempts at a garden; to be honest I believe there was more dirt on our dresses than upon the ground. Sven decided to be a smart mouth and asked when the tide would go out so we could use the mud for planting. Erik looked to burst a gut for his laughter. The rest of us looked at him like he was mad; though you can never know for certain with him. I don't think we have laughed so hard since the War began. I'm attempting to learn to shoot the pistol I was given; it is not a pretty sight me with a gun sends the menfolk running and the womenfolk to hiding behind the stout stone walls of the house. I don't know what their problem is; I am getting…better. I no longer scream when it goes off.



When Mrs. Maxine gets angry she begins swearing the same way the Corporal does. She came back from town the other day sore as a cornered badger. We don't know what she is saying but as I know your reaction to the Corporals words it cannot be good. We are afraid to ask her what made her angry. We try hard to keep our minds off of the war because if we dwell upon it overmuch our minds explore terrifying scenarios for our friends and loved ones. I still wonder of the death of her husband and how the Corporal was involved with it. Knowing his temper at those who mistreat women anything is possible.



Sarah and I have gotten to be close friends and companions. We are of about the same age though of varying temperament. She is fiendishly ticklish and sometimes I wonder who is more ticklish.



I shall end this note now as it is time to start chores. I prefer caring for the horses to dealing with the cattle. Assure the men that they are in our prayers.



Yours truly,



Emaline

 

[dawna]

Dear Seth:

I hope that our friendship has withstood this long absence in writing, but by day's end I can barely hold pen to hand, and I have become neglectful in all of my correspondence. My "complaints" are of a pleasant nature and under no circumstances meant to sound ungrateful. The mornings pass by quickly and are preoccupied with more physical and pressing activities, whilst Sven and Emaline divert my afternoons with school lessons and nature walks. Even Erik joins us occasionally and my fearless friend has never been happier.

Sven is learning quickly and this once voiceless child can now make simple sentences and recognize words from a basic reader. Sven is a reluctant student, or so it seems, but a gentle rivalry has sprung forth between our little friend and Emaline, which has presented a source of amusement to my teachings. If only for that reason alone, Sven is determined to study a little harder, and comes to our lessons well prepared; and you will be pleased to learn that your jeune ami has shown a remarkable ability to learn the banjo, much to Erik's delight.

Emaline is a wonder and I marvel at her quick wit and comprehension of the world around her. She is blessed with a logical mind and rarely settles for a simple answer, which is both a delight but a trial at times. But I am well pleased also with Emaline's progress, and in a few weeks time I will introduce French to our studies. However, I hasten to inform you that Emaline's skill as a marksman has yet to be determined!

You will be happy to hear that your homestead hums with harmony and we have all fallen ceremoniously into our areas of expertise. Emaline and I have planted a garden that even Aunt Rosemary secretly admires, and between this and our daily hours of barn chores, I am rarely without tousled hair and disheveled clothing. It is becoming difficult to believe that not so long ago I spent my days in leisure, and my evenings in dupioni silk.

The grass remains lush, the horses are of good flesh and their coats gleam from my daily, thorough brushings. To Erik's dismay, I am working with the colts that were born to your farm last year, and they are now both broken to halter and lead well, even with unexpected distractions.

Since the colts have been weaned for sometime, I have started riding the mares and they are both benefiting from daily exercise and individual attention. I'm quite fond of both horses, but the bay mare holds my greater affection as I find her the more tractable of the two, and she is a steady and willing worker. Your chesnut mare is still of the mindset that she can leave the farm without me at any given moment, and we have had many an argument as to who is choosing the speed and direction!

How I wish that you could see Erik of late as he is a joy to behold and in a few short months, our friend has been transformed into a different man. He has become fierecely protective of your property, and no one works more diligently and with more effort than my gentle friend. But Erik has been forbidden to enter the kitchen, and rather than feel the wrath of Aunt Rosemary, my friend spends his days outdoors and has become a master repairman and handyman extraordinaire. Erik's physical strength has been a blessing to a household of mostly females, and his impetuous laughter has become endearing to us all.

Carlie and I have become like sisters and I understand now why you hold her in such high esteem. She is the diplomat in the family and if not for your sister, I fear that your Aunt Rosemary would have met with an unhappy demise on more than one occasion.

I had an unfortunate incident in town several days past, and much to my chagrin, I could not hold my anger in check. I have not told Erik as it is certain that he would rush to my defense, but it would appear that even in a small town that has been made barren by war, a human being will dwell, if only to appear as rubbish.

We hear news that the war is almost over, yet this does little to bolster our spirits. Food has become scarce, and although we are still managing better than others, our isolation allows our imaginations to wander, and we fear that peace and tranquility will never be restored to this hopeless land. There has also been talk of illness running throughout your camp and I fear for your health, and that of William, Kevin and the Corporal and Mrs. Steele. We pray every night that you will be spared from disease and sickness, and that you will soon return to us in safety.

I have enclosed a sheet of paper and if you should find the time, I would take great comfort in knowing that you are well.

I remain your friend,

Maxine

"The wildest colts make the best horses." ~Plutarch~

 

[johan_steele]

My Dearest Sister & friends

I am glad to hear of good tidings from home; the knowledge that those I treasure are safe and doing well gladdens the heart. Theidea of young Ms Emaline with a pistol worries me I will admit. Though, the thought of looking down the barrel is a comforting thought in that I know it would dissuade even the vilest sort. All must remember that many men are indeed of a vile sort, of the basest instinct. They are present both north and south, white and black. Ignore them as the scum that they are; and those that demand notice... for them there is the pistol of Ms Emaline or the scattergun that stands beside the door.

The image of the horses in the yard, fresh vegetables coming up in the garden, the smell of fresh cut hay all a little bit of home. Oh how I miss the homestead; the buildings my father built and the fields I helped to clear and cultivate. All those sights and smells of home that I miss; yet it is what I am fighting for. The lives and freedom of men and children like Erik and Sven. The idea that men and women can be bought and sold and forced to live in servitude. Here in north Georgia we have seen little of the scourge of slavery. But the mark is here, most of the families here who own slaves are small farms with only one or two slaves and the majority of those slaves have been well treated and cared for. Despite this, they are eager to flee to freedom when the chance is presented. The chance of freedom that exists with our arrival is a precious thing to see. With our victory freedom is no longer a flighty dream.

On Friday last the Captain took our mess to escort some prisoners to the railhead. On the way back to the garrison we stopped at the camp of the Iowa boys from the fall. Most had reenlisted and seemed well. The company we pitched our tents with was quite short of private soldiers as most had been detailed away. Because of this the Corporal volunteered us for camp sentinels. We were to check every supply wagon that passed the camp; the Corporal is a wise man as our haversacks were soon bulging with fresh rations.
Riding in one of the wagons was the aged mayor and his widowed daughter. Perhaps half of the locals are loyal Union men; the mayor did not represent them. His particular complaint was that was that "soldiers wearing the blue" had stolen his daughter's cow. The Corporal thought it probably Wheelers cavalry as they have been in the area and their treatment of Dalton is well known to all. They were taken to the Officer of the day and we did see them leave some time later. I know not if they received satisfaction. The Corporal passed the widow a bag of dried apples as he thought her children might appreciate them.

The Iowa camp was three hundred yards or so from the edge of a small village and a wealthy plantation. The war must no be so bad as the women of the town held a tea. There is a school house full of refugees. A family with eight children resides there; they came scavenging through the camp and foraged a pot and fire grate as well as a good bag of rations. Children are the real victims of this war.

There was a snug little cabin we traded much with. The "lady" of the house was not a day older than Ms Emaline and quite poorly behaved. She did not leave us with a good impression of Southern Ladies. However, her maid and cook were something else entirely. The maid was of the same age and quite kind to us. She traded fresh donuts and early fruits for salt pork and help gathering and splitting wood. I admit to being a bit taken with her as she was so kind and quite fetching. She played a dangerous game being quite flirtatious with the Corporal, Kevin and I. The cook was a quadroon, pleasant and friendly as well as a splendid cook. Her donuts were as good as those of Mrs. Steele, if a bit fancier. I paid her two bits for a loaf of fresh bread and some dried fruit, the Corporal split perhaps a half chord of wood and received a pail full of donuts in trade. Well worth the labor.

On Saturday afternoon we had a bit of a dust up with some Rebels hell bent on burning the supply train. There were about three companies worth of Infantry and a gun. Our field of contention was similar to the hill behind the house if not so steep with thicker underbrush. The Cavalry had warned us of their presence, our mess was given a flank and deployed as skirmishers. We managed to catch them good dropping several; they sent a few volleys our way and skedaddled. And like **** fool green troops we gave chase. They had snuck that gun up so as to flank us with canister and it did frightful execution. WE felt discretion the better part of valor and withdrew, our mess was made rear guard, as our mess had been on the flank we were spared the gift of canister and lost no one. Though, the Corporal had a near miss having his canteen shot away. The Rebs were none too enthusiastic about giving chase when they learned we could shoot straight and were fighting Indian style.

We retired to the camp feeling the fool. We knew we had been licked. The Iowa Sgt Major found a barrel of beer and saw that every man had a chance at it. The Corporal and I partook and to our surprise so did the Captain! I will admit that beer tasted fine to our parched lips.

On Sunday the Rebs tried again; this time we knew their game and bloodied them badly. The Iowa boys pushed them through the woods; our mess was tasked with finding that gun and making sure the Iowans were not so badly hurt as Saturday. We did our job well as the gun got off only one shot before we made it unhealthy for them. We killed one and chased off all but two who we took prisoner. They managed to spike the gun before we took it. The Iowans drove off the Infantry supports with little loss. We buried a handful of Rebs, took perhaps a score of their wounded to hospital and captured a few as well. All for a loss of only three of our own wounded, though to be honest it was a fair exchange for Saturday. We buried good men, both Union and Rebel. I am mightily glad that we are now making our way back to the Regiment and Mrs. Steeles cooking.

God Bless and keep you little sister and friends.

Your Brother & friend

Seth Barnaby

 

[johan_steele]

I was asked to bring this old thread out of the archives last night. I hope that someone will follw thru w/ a new one.

 

[Parault]

This has made for enjoyable reading. Please continue

 

[dawna]

This has made for enjoyable reading. Please continue

Parault:

I'm glad you enjoyed this thread, as it gave me enormous pleasure to be a participant.

Dawna

 

[sarah1864]

My Dear Srgt.,

I have been so despondent these last weeks without hearing from you. It warms my heart so reading your latest despatch that I received today. How I had longed to hear from you. I have written to you, mostly every week and I have not received any letters from you. I miss you so and I think that you miss me also but always remember that you are in my prayers. The good Lord shall keep you safe from all the hardships of a soldiers life, for I believe that you will come home to your family and live the rest or our lives in peace and plenty.
The days and nights have been cold, it looks like snow today. I am warm in my house and I have plenty of wood but I wonder how you are fareing. Do you have a warm blanket? I have been making a quilt for you since you requested a warm one from your last letter. I expect to complete it shortly and will send a box to you. Can you tell me where to send it. You only referred to your company but how do I know where to send it if you do not tell me where you are? Expect to find some letters for the boys in your company and also some eatables for you.
Those wretched yankees passed near here some days ago. They burned the house of an old patriot in the next town. I saw the smoke from the hill. We have to lock our doors every night, for we can wake up to a house full of those blue bellies. I feel safe most times, for I sleep with my fathers pistol beneath my bed. Only they do not know it is not loaded. It tears at me to see them worshiping in our church. That old church is sacred to me, and they have desicrated it by stepping foot into it and saying their mock prayers to God. Sometimes I wish one of our cannonballs would just sweep them off so they are no more, but that is unchristian to think those thoughts when I should be praying for you and yours. If you see my son, tell him I think of him every day, and I long for both of you to come home.

Affectionatley,
Your Sarah