Tuesday, 11th—Troops are leaving daily for their homes. The boys are all active in getting everything squared up with one another before leaving for their homes. We get passes to the city as often as we can, to buy things we want before leaving the army for good. The boys are getting small photo gems taken to exchange with one another; I have already received over sixty in exchange.
July 2015
10th. A cool delightful morning. Was disappointed in not getting my papers. Read in “Oliver Twist.” In evening went to meeting (conference) in open air. Very interesting. God is at work here.
Mazomanie, Wis., Monday, July 10. Another family load of us attended the Equescurriculum [circus] at Mazomanie, intending to go into Madison in the evening, but word was sent that they don’t want us till the 13th.
July 10th, 1865.—We have always had a late breakfast; early this morning Adeline, who usually has a second nap before she comes to the kitchen to get breakfast, woke us all to tell us she had orders from “dem sojers” to have breakfast ready in ten minutes. There was some hurrying, you may be sure, but even so we were not in time, Mother being the only member of the family to put in an appearance. We’ll do better tomorrow.
Ever “sence freedom drapped,” we have had trouble with the milkers. The cows would be left standing for hours, and we would not have fresh milk for the morning’s meal. The poor little calves would call mournfully for their mothers, until some one of the household would turn them together. Of course, at such times we had no milk. Today Pat elected to leave the cows and calves to shift for themselves, but it did not work. Cornell and Hibell came in, each with a foaming pail of milk and, not even looking towards us, said in a gruff voice, “Strain it, and put it up.” This is something I know all about for “Granny Vi’let’s” spotless dairy was ever an attractive place to me. I suppose we are to obey the guard also. Pat got her deserts, but I am a wee bit sorry for her.
Father has found out that we have two Union soldiers on the plantation and he is glad they are here. He is too ill to manage the negroes himself.
9th. Inquiry meeting. About 50 men out. After breakfast, I went to the city. Took some notices to Mr. Parsons. Attended Sunday School and church at 1st Pres. Dr. Nelson. Good services but not much earnestness. Got back to camp for dinner. A silly sentimental poet on the cars. Chapel in evening. Rain.
Colonel Lyon’s Letters.
Cairo, Ill., Sun. a. m., July 9, 1865.—We did not get here until after midnight, having been detained several hours by a collision ahead of us, fifty miles from here. I found the Major and Lieutenant Fowle in Chicago. Saw nothing of the Adjutant. We leave on the ‘Clara Dalson’ at 11 o’clock this morning for New Orleans. The weather is somewhat warm here. We get Government transportation from here, which is worth $10 to each of us, and our meals and staterooms cost us $20 more.
Sunday, 9th—It rained all day and all of us not on guard remained in our “ranches.” Our camp is on rolling ground and so the water runs off quickly. In this camp we have no bunks built up from the ground, for there was no tearing down of houses to get timbers, but we have straw on which to lay our ponchos. For a roof we have a pole resting on two forks, with four rubber ponchos stretched over the pole and the ends fastened to the ground.
July 9th, 1865.—Our troubles are over, hurrah for Genera Foster! Sister Mart and Uncle Arvah made General Foster an early visit. She went in much trepidation, for she had not been quite civil when she met him at Goodwood. He had offered her his hand in greeting and she had drawn back, putting her hands behind her and saying, “Please excuse me.”
She told him what had happened; she described Peggy; she told of our indignation, of Father’s serious illness and of the constant difficulty of life on the plantation.
General Foster listened attentively as she talked; then he said, “I will give you a guard for your premises, Miss Bradford; a sergeant and one man, will, I think, be sufficient. I shall also give you an order to Lieutenant Zachendorf and this order Sergeant Cornell will deliver in person.
“Your guard will be instructed to attend to all plantation affairs and all I ask of you is that they be fed and housed and that they be given the freedom of the premises.”
Sister Mart was delighted. She is very impulsive and extended her hand to General Foster.
“General,” she said, “the last time we met I refused to shake hands with you, now I ask the privilege.”
It is a piece of merciful consideration for us and we cannot thank him enough. I have not seen him for I stay rather close at home.
When Sister Mart got back from town, we had not yet left the breakfast table. She entered the room, followed by two soldiers in blue uniforms. I thought they had come to arrest Mother and my heart stood still. What a relief it was when the situation was explained. Sergeant Cornell took the order to Centreville and we have heard nothing more of the arrest for “impertinence to Peggy.” We will sleep better tonight.
8th. Read in the morning. Went with Brown to Mrs. Kellogg’s to dinner. Belong to Tenney family. Had a good visit. All act and look much like Tenney family. Another large meeting in evening. Great interest manifested. Several spoke.
Brazos de Santiago, Texas,
July 8, 1865.
Dear Sister L.:—
I have written of our voyages, its pleasures, and the shipwreck at the end. I have told you the features of the country here, its lack of vegetation and its abundance of salt and sand. There is not much more to tell, except that we are just about ready for a march away up the Rio Grande, into the wilderness of the Comanche country. I expect danger and hardship, heat, thirst and all the troubles and pleasures incident to a trip in the wilderness of this romantic country.
The rebellion is dead—we have no more rebels to fight, and the work laid out for us seems to be to garrison the forts and posts along the frontier, from the mouth of the Rio Grande away up into New Mexico. I saw an officer yesterday, who had just come down from up there, who said he had not seen a white man beside his own company for two years. Greasers (Mexicans) and Comanche Indians are the inhabitants up there. With us, it will be some different. We have a whole army corps to be scattered along the frontier, and there will be frequent communication.
You do well to talk about heat and rain. What would you think of a country where the average heat is from 96 to 100 and you lived in a cotton house where it did not rain for three months, and then the whole three months’ rain came down in one day, where you would have to get your water by condensing the steam from sea brine? It wouldn’t suit me for a home, but a sojourn here does very well for an episode in one’s life. There is no use in your disliking my coming here. I was well on my way when you wrote the words, and here before I read them.
If you find the time when you can go on a visit to Michigan, you better go, without making any calculations of my going with you. Our “best laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft agley,” and there is no telling what may happen to any of us. I have a plan in my mind now, which I intend to work out. The war is over, the object of my enlistment is accomplished, and I propose to resign about the middle or latter part of September, so as to start for home about the first of October. I shall go via the Mississippi River, make a visit to our parents in Michigan (I cannot say go home, because I have no home yet), then come for another visit to you, and about the first of January go for a term of instruction in the forwarding and commission business, to Eastman’s Business College at Poughkeepsie. After that go to New Orleans or St. Louis and get a position as agent for some firm in the business, till such time as I get ready to go into business on my own account. An officer in the regiment, whom I have known intimately for nearly two years, will join me at the school, and we shall go together for better or worse. It is a business that can be carried on with less capital and produce surer and larger profits than any other I know of, and one which will suit my tastes better than a quiet country life. Now what do you think of my plan?
