Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume VI, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1860s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the sixth in a series. Volume I is Amelia Changes Her Tune. Volume II is Isaac and Wolf Paw Find Their Home. Volume III is Autumn Keeps Her Secret. Volume IV is Mr. Gamble Starts a School. Volume V is Jacob Blows his Horn.
May 28, 1863
Dear Autumn, my beloved Ohio sister;
All of our men are out saving our country. Why don’t you and Cassie come and visit us?
We would love to receive you sometime during the summer break long enough to catch up on important things, and to introduce you to our first granddaughter, beautiful, precious Pollyanna.
The trains have not been interrupted in our part of the world, and Boston is beautiful even in its wartime austerity. Do come and see us.
Give our love to Mr. Oakland Inn.
Your beloved Amelia and her family.
“What does austerity mean?” Cassie asked.
“It means doing things with as little expense as possible, to save for other more important things. Everyone is doing their part to not be wasteful, so that we can fight this wasteful war,” Mama said.
“She obviously forgot that I had come home,” Papa said.
“And she doesn’t know about me being back,” Nate said.
“And she just didn’t think about me,” Jacob said.
“Still, it would be nice to go see them, don’t you think?” Cassie said.
“I couldn’t leave everyone,” Mama said.
“Sure you could,” Papa said. “You know you want to go.”
“I could look after Grandpappy,” Nate said.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
“I could look after Nate,” Jacob smiled, “And Maggie.”
“And I’ll just be working and gone all the time, so you won’t have to fret,” Papa grinned.
Mama pondered.
“All right, let’s go,” she finally said. “You and me, Cassie.”
It was most of a week before the plans were finalized. Train tickets were purchased and return letter sent. They would leave for Boston June 24 and stay for two weeks, returning just after Independence Day.
“The Fourth of July in Boston is just what this patriotic heart needs,” Mama said.
Before she could go, however, Mama had to be sure Jacob would be looked after. Grandpappy, Nate and Papa for that matter.
Mama wanted to be certain that Nate was adjusting to his injury. His determination and strong spirit was assuring her, but still, a mother has her doubts.
“I have my moments,” Nate had told her. “But the rest of the moments are mine.”
Cassie noticed that Jacob had become Nate’s personal assistant, running errands, bringing food, offering to read a letter or write one. Nate took it in stride.
“I’m not Grandpappy, little brother. I can do most things myself. Look, two hands, two eyes. two ears. Just one foot.
“Still, you are pretty handy to have around. Come walk with me.”
Cassie watched Nate walk with Jacob down Third Street. That became their routine. They would walk and talk.
Nate could build up his strength and Jacob could ask his questions. They both took to looking after Grandpappy, who loved to hear Nate’s stories and loved to tell plenty of his own.
Cassie sat in with them, too. She wanted to know what it was like, soldiering.
“Most of it is just tedious, doing things without asking why,” Nate said. “Don’t ask why, don’t ask why, don’t ask why. Just do it.”
“Why?” Cassie and Jacob asked at the same time, and Grandpappy laughed.
Nate smiled.
“Because why slows us down. The officer is the only one who needs to know why and he knows why because his commander tells him.
“Sometimes they would explain things, but only so we would know what to do if circumstances changed.
“We also drilled, marched, practiced responding to orders, learned to fight, learned to kill. We did it so much so we could do it without thinking.”
“Why don’t they want you to think?” Jacob asked. “Because, little brother, if we think, we hesitate. If we hesitate, we die,” Nate said.
“The things you do well, you do without thinking,” Grandpappy added. “And the things you do well now you didn’t do well until you practiced.”
“Like piano,” Jacob said.
That’s the last thing I’d expect you to bring up. Grandpappy laughed, hard.
“Is this confession time, Jacob?”
Jacob gave a small grin.
“Guess that’s why Cassie is better at the piano than me.”
Finally you get it.
“And now you see why you are so much better at the banjo than the piano,” Cassie said.
“What was it like on battle days?” Jacob asked.
“Absolute fear, if we thought about it,” Nate said.
“That is why we drilled, day after day after day. We had to know how to march into formation, make four lines out of two and two lines out of four, hear the voice of our commander and the sound of our bugle, and to do it when it is raining ash and lead and smoke and fire.”
He paused. He sees it. He sees the battle.
“We are marching toward someone, a whole mass of man, who want us to die. When cannonballs explode, if they don’t injure you with the shrapnel inside, they make such a loud noise you can’t hear for a few seconds after, so everything suddenly is quiet, but at the same time, dirt is flying up in your face, or tree branches and splinters are dropping all over you.
“And suddenly, the man next to you isn’t there anymore.”
How will we get Levi and Philip through this?
Jacob echoed Cassie’s thoughts.
“Are Philip and Levi going to be all right, Nathaniel?”
“Only by the Grace of God, twins. By the Grace of God.”
