Vandemark's Folly Part 40

"Yes," I said, "I knew about it. Over in the Hoosier settlement."

"I ain't a good teacher," she said, "only with the little children; but sometimes we shouldn't have had the necessaries of life, if it hadn't been for what I earned. I can't do too much for them. They have been father and mother to me, and I shall be a daughter to them. If--if they want me to go with--with--in circles which I--I--don't care half so much about as for--for the birds, and flowers--and the people back in our grove--and for people who don't care for me any more--why, I don't think I ought to disobey Mrs. Thornd.y.k.e. But I don't believe as she does--or did--about things that have happened to you since--since we parted and got to be strangers, Teunis. And neither does any one else, nor she herself any more. People respect you, Teunis. I wanted to say that to you, too, before you go away--maybe forever, Teunis!"

She touched on so many things--sore things and sacred things--in this speech, that I only looked at her with tears in my eyes; and she saw them. It was the only answer I could make, and before she could say any more, the elder and his wife came and took her home. I had got half-way to Cairo, Illinois, before I worked it out that by "the people back in our grove," she must have meant me; for the only others there had been that gang of horse-thieves: and if so she must have meant me when she spoke of "people who don't care for me any more"--but it was too late to do anything in the way of correcting this mistake then. All I could pride myself on was having a good memory as to what she said. I guess this proves my relations.h.i.+p to that other Dutchman who took so long to build the church. Remember, though, that he finally built it.

5

The Civil War is no part of the history of Vandemark Towns.h.i.+p; and I had small part in the Civil War. But one thing that took place on the field of s.h.i.+loh does belong in this history. Most of the members of my company enlisted in October, 1861, but we did not get to the front until the very day of the Battle of s.h.i.+loh. I was in one of the two regiments whose part in the battle has caused so much controversy. I gave Senator c.u.mmins an affidavit about it only the other day to settle something about a monument on the field.

We came up the Tennessee River the night of the day before the battle, and landed at Pittsburgh Landing at daybreak of the first day's fight.

We had not had our guns issued to us yet. Some have thought it a little hard on us to be shoved into a great battle without ever having loaded or fired our muskets. When we were landed the guns were issued to my company, and we were given about half an hour's instruction in the way they were worked. Of course most of us had done shooting, and were a little better than green hands; but Will Lockwood during the fight loaded his gun until it was full of unfired loads, and forgot to put a cap on. Then he discovered his mistake, and put on a cap, and would have blown off his own head by firing all the stuff out at once, when Captain Gowdy saw what he was doing and s.n.a.t.c.hed the gun away from him calling him a d.a.m.ned fool, and broke the stock off the musket on the ground.

There were plenty of guns for Will to select from by that time which were not in use, so he picked up another and made a new start; but not for long.

After the guns were issued to us, we stood there on the bank, and lounged about on the landing, waiting for the issue of cartridges. An orderly came to me with Magnus following him, and gave me the captain's order to report to him in the cabin of the transport which lay tied up at the river bank. We looked at each other in wonder, but followed the orderly into the cabin, where we stood at attention. The captain returned our salutes, dismissed the orderly, and after his footsteps had gone out of hearing, turned to us.

"Thorkelson and Vandemark," said he, "I have a few words to say to you.

I don't find anything in the books covering the case, and am speaking as man to man."

"Yes, sir," said I.

"Ay hare," said Magnus.

"Thorkelson," Gowdy went on, "you have had an ambition to put an end to me. Well, now's your chance, or will be when we get out there where the shooting is going on. You've had a poor chance to practise marksmans.h.i.+p; but maybe you can shoot well enough to hit a man of my size from the rear--for my men will be to the rear of me in a fight"

He stopped and looked straight in Magnus's eyes; and Magnus stared straight back. At last, Gowdy's eyes swept around toward me, and then back again.

"Well," said he, "what do you and your friend say? The bond to keep the peace doesn't run in Tennessee."

"I think," said I, "as man to man, that you deserve shooting; but maybe this ain't the place for it. I voted for you for captain because you seem to know your business--and I don't b'lieve we've got another that does. That's how I feel."

Gowdy laughed, that friendly, warm, musical laugh of his, just as he would have laughed in a horse trade, or over the bar, or while helping the church at a donation party.

"Well," said he, "I called you in here--especially you, Thorkelson--to say that if you feel bound by any vow you've made, to shoot me, why, you may shoot and be d.a.m.ned. I shan't pay any attention to the matter. From the way it sounds out there at the front, it will be only one bullet added to a basketful. That's all, Thorkelson."

"Captain Gowdy," said Magnus.

"Go on, Thorkelson," said Gowdy.

"Van Ay bane svorn in," said Magnus, "Ay take you for captain. You bane a dam good-for-nothing rascal, but you bane best man for captain. Ay bane tied up. You bane necessary to maybe save lives of a hundred dam sight better men dan you. Ay not shoot. You insult me ven you talk about it."

"In spite of the somewhat uncomplimentary and insubordinate language in which you express yourself," said Gowdy, "which I overlook under the peculiar circ.u.mstances, I reckon I must admit that I did a.s.sume an att.i.tude on your part of which you are incapable, and that such an a.s.sumption was insulting--if a private can be insulted by a commissioned officer. This being man to man, I apologize. You may go, Thorkelson."

Magnus clicked his heels together in the way he had learned in the old country, and saluted; Captain Gowdy returned the salute, and Magnus marched out with his head high, and his stomach drawn in.

"Devilish good soldier!" said Gowdy as he went out. "Well, that clears the atmosphere a little! So, Vandemark, you think I need killing, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, it's all in the point of view," said he, leaning toward me and smiling that ingratiating smile of his. "Sometimes I think so, too; but there's only one policy for me--lose 'em and forget 'em. I sometimes think that the time may come when I shall wish I had married that girl.

Have you seen the baby lately?"

"I used to see it every few days," said I. "It's runnin' all over the place."

"Look like me?"

"It will when it gits older."

"When you go back," said he, "if I don't, will you do me and this little offspring of mine--and its mother--a favor?"

"I'll have to wait and see what it is," said I.

"Same old cautious Vandemark!" said he, laughing. "Well, that's why I picked you to do this, if you will be so good. You can look the matter over in case it comes to anything, and act if you think best; but I think you will decide to act. Please go to Lusch in Waterloo and ask for a packet of papers I left there, to be opened in your presence and at your request if I wink out in this irrepressible conflict. Remember, I shall be on the other side of Jordan or some other stream. Inside of the outer envelope will be a letter to Rowena, which please deliver. There will also be one for you, with some securities and other things to be held in trust for the benefit of Rowena's boy--and mine. I hate that 'Owen Lovejoy' part of his name; but he is ent.i.tled to the name of Gowdy, and in view of the fact that he has it, I want him to have a good chance--as good as he can have in view of the irregularity of his birth.

To tell you the plain truth, as my affairs are now situated, I'm giving him more than he could take as my son if he were legitimate--for as neighbor to neighbor, I'm practically bu'sted. All I'm doing is hanging on for land to rise. Now this isn't much to do, and you won't have to act unless you want to. Will you have the papers opened, and act for the dead scoundrel if it seems the proper thing to do? You see, there's hardly anybody else who is satisfactory to me, and at the same time a friend to the other parties."

"I'll have the papers opened," said I; "but remember, this don't take back what I said a few minutes ago. I think you ought to be killed."

"Thank you," said he. "Private Vandemark! You may go!"

Now I have told this story over and over again in court, to commissioners taking testimony, to lawyers in their offices, to lawyers out at my farm. It has been printed in court records, including the Reports of the Supreme Court of Iowa. Judges of the Supreme Court of Iowa have been nominated or refused nomination because of their views, or their lack of views, or their refusal to state in advance off in some hole and corner, what their views would be on the legal effect of this conversation between me and Buckner Gowdy in the cabin of the transport on the morning of the first day's battle of s.h.i.+loh--so N.V.

says--but this is the first time I have had a chance to tell it as it was, without some squirt of a lawyer pointing his finger at me and trying to make me change the story; or some other limb of the law interrupting me with objections that it was incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, not the best evidence, hearsay, a privileged communication, and a lot of other balderdash. This is what took place, just as I have stated it; and this is all the Vandemark Towns.h.i.+p, Monterey County, or Iowa history there was in the battle so far as I know--except that Iowa had more men in that fight than any other state in proportion to her population.

Just to show you that I didn't run away, I must tell you that we had ammunition issued to us after a while, and were told how to use it. We got forty rounds of cartridges at first and ten rounds right afterward.

Then we formed and marched, part of the time at the double, out into a cotton-field. In front of us a few hundred yards off, was a line of forest trees, and under the trees were tents, that I guess some of our other men were driven out of that morning. Here we were at once under a hot fire and lost a lot of men. We went into action about half-past nine or ten o'clock in the forenoon, and two regiments of us stood the enemy off along that line until about noon. Then they rushed us, and such of us as could went away from there. Those that didn't are most of them there yet. I stayed, because of a shot through my leg which splintered the bone. The enemy trampled over me as they drove our men off the field, and a horse stepped on my shoulder, breaking the collar-bone.

Then, when the Johnnies were driven back, I was mauled around again, but don't remember much except that I was thirsty. And then, for months and months, I was in one hospital or another; and finally I was discharged as unfit for service, because I was too lame to march. I can feel it in frosty weather yet; but it never amounted to much except to the dealers in riding plows and the like. So ended my military life. I had borne arms for my country for about three hours!

It was the eighth of January, 1863, when I got home. I rode from the railroad to Foster Blake's in his sleigh, looked over my herd which he was running on shares for me, and crossed Vandemark's Folly Marsh on the hard snow which was over the tall gra.s.s and reeds everywhere. How my grove had grown that past summer! I began to feel at home, as I warmed the little house up with a fire in the stove, and rolling up in my blankets, which for a long time were more comfortable to me than a bed, went to sleep on the floor. I never felt the sense of home more delightfully than that night. I would set things to rights, and maybe go over to Monterey Centre and see Virginia next day. I could see smoke at Magnus's down the road. I felt a pleasure in thus sneaking in without any one's knowing it.

I had not gone to see Mr. Lusch in Waterloo, for I had learned that so far from being killed, Captain Gowdy had come through s.h.i.+loh without a scratch, and that he had soon afterward resigned and gone back to Monterey County. It has always been believed, but I don't know why, that he was allowed to resign either because of his relations.h.i.+p to the great Confederate families of Kentucky, or because of his record there before he went to Iowa. Anyhow, he never joined the G.A.R. or fellows.h.i.+pped with the soldiers after the war. I always hated him; but I do him the justice to say here that he was a brave man, and except for his one great weakness--the weakness that I am told Lord Byron was destroyed by--he would have been a good man. I feel certain that if he had been given a chance to make a career in either army, he would have been a general before the war was over.

That afternoon, J.P. Roebuck, who had seen my smoke, came over to welcome me home and to talk politics with me. We must have a towns.h.i.+p for ourselves, he said. Now look at the situation in the school. We had a big school in the Vandemark schoolhouse, thirteen scholars being enrolled. We had a good teacher, too, Virginia Royall. But there wasn't enough fuel to last two days, and those Monterey Centre folks were dead on their feet and n.o.body seemed to care if the school closed down. He went on with his argument for a separate towns.h.i.+p organization; I all the time thinking with my mind in a whirl that Virginia was near, and I could see her next day. When he said that we would have to get the vote of Doc Bliven, who was a member of the Board of Supervisors, I began to take notice.

"Bliven always seemed to like you," said Roebuck. "We all kind of wish you'd see what you can do for us with him."

"I think I can get his vote," I said, after thinking it over for a while--and as I thought of it, the Dubuque ferry in 1855, the arrest of Bliven in the queue of people waiting at the post-office, my smuggled pa.s.senger, and the uplift I felt as the Iowa prairie opened to my view as we drew out of the ravines to the top of the hills--all this rolled over my memory. Roebuck looked at me like a person facing a medium in a trance.

"Yes," I said, "I believe I can get his vote. I'll try."

CHAPTER XX

JUST AS GRANDMA THORNd.y.k.e EXPECTED

I was surprised next morning to note the change which had taken place in the weather. It had been cold and raw when I was crossing the prairies to my farm, with the wind in the southeast, and filled with a bitter chill In the night the wind had gone down, and it was as still as death in the morning. For the first time in my life, and it has happened but twice since, I heard the whistles of the engines on the railroad twelve miles away to the north. There was a little beard of h.o.a.r frost along the side of every spear of gra.s.s and weed; which, as the sun rose higher, dropped off and lay under every twig and bent, in a little heap if it stood up straight, or in a windrow if it slanted; for so still was the air that the frost went straight down, and lay as it fell. I could hear the bawling of the cattle in every barnyard for miles around, and the crowing of roosters as the fowls strutted about in the warm sun. It was thawing by ten o'clock. The temperature had run up as the wind dropped; and as I now know, with the lowering of the pressure of the barometer, if we had had one.

"This is a weather-breeder!"