The Seeker (34 page)

The soldier in the sketch I enclose is my brother. He is nothing like me. I have also drawn your Shaker roses as I imagine them from your words. The gardens here bloom with the last roses of summer. But some roses never fade from a man’s memory.

Your friend,
Adam

October 30, 1861
Dear Adam,

The Believers are very busy with harvest and I am going to the fields to help gather the seeds for their seed packets in the spring. The work dries my hands, but they have lotions that keep the skin from cracking. The elders worry their usual market routes to the south will be closed come spring unless the war ends very soon which as you indicate does not seem likely. We saw your sketches of the battle in
Harper’s Weekly
. The scenes of death caused much distress among us.

We have heard little news of note except of course the conquest of the southern part of our state by the Confederates. My father must surely be beside himself. I think of him and Grayson often, but have no news from either since Sister Latisha came among us. They allow her to work in the kitchens almost exclusively since her rheumatism makes field work difficult. The Believers are kind to their elderly and infirm. Sister Latisha received a letter from Mellie, as did I. As you may know, she and Nate are married and she is expecting a child. The Shakers believe both to be sin and so Mellie’s news was no reason for rejoicing here, but I am thankful to know she is safe.

An older sister named Martha has been instructing me in the Shaker way with great kindness. She is very patient with me even though I am slow to learn some of their tenets. Edwin, on the other hand, has embraced the peace of the village, and it is plain he is not the same Edwin I grew up with and once unwisely considered marrying. Even as I am not the same Charlotte. The Believers consider the individual family unit as the reason for much of the trouble in
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the world. That is why they live as brothers and sisters only.

The sisters picked the last of the roses for the rosewater before the frost last week. Thank you for the sketch of the roses and your brother. His eyes are much like yours. Sister Martha kept the sketch of your brother for the journal she keeps of the news of the war. Though I wrongfully desired to do so, I could not keep the one of the roses for it served no purpose other than ornamentation which is not allowed here.

I miss the garden and all that was in it at Grayson.

As always,
Charlotte

November 25, 1861
Dear Charlotte,

I can’t imagine you working in the field as a common laborer. What would your father say if he knew you were doing so? Does he know?

Here in the capital the men are settling into their winter camps. Some have been given leave to go home for a few weeks and others haven’t waited for leave, but have simply deserted their posts. I consider deserting mine. I am not enlisted in the army as the men are, but I am obligated to Mr. Johnson of
Harper’s Weekly
who wishes me to winter with the army and to stay abreast of the political maneuvering of the President and his Cabinet. I have gone to some of the parties and entertainments, but the gardens here are cold and without beauty.

I send a sketch of the President. He looks very grave and ages by the week. I will send you no more pictures of roses, but we both must remember the rose sleeps under the snow of winter and blooms again with new life in the spring.

Your servant,
Adam

December 29, 1861
Dear Adam,

My father has other problems on his mind with his support of the Union. There are many with Secesh sympathies in his district and I can only imagine the problems he may be having. It would be my mother who would be horrified by my day-to-day activities if she still lived.

She would be surprised, as you may be as well, that I enjoy working with my hands at useful enterprise. While some of the duties are tedious and tiring, there is purpose in the performing of those duties. Unlike the tedious needlework pushed on a young lady as the proper way for her to idle away the time. Here there is no idle time and the needle is plied to make useful things such as dresses or shirts to wear or hats to sell. They let me try to spin silk from the cocoons of their own silkworms, but that is a skill that takes much practice. I am better suited to weaving baskets. Another thing that is hard on the hands, but there is no shortage of their medicinal lotions.

I do miss my books, but Sister Martha says it is best to read the books about Mother Ann’s life and study her precepts and teachings. Even so I think of the garden of books in my father’s library and cannot always keep from regretting that I can no longer pluck the flower of one of those stories to bring the beauty of its words to my heart. The Ministry might strike out these sentences for they believe the beauty of anything lies in its usefulness and if the words only sing to one’s heart and do not instruct in right living then such words are better left on the shelf.

It is good to think of the rose sleeping under the snow and to imagine it blooming again when I am able to return to the garden.

As always,
Charlotte

February 7, 1862
Dear Charlotte,

The New Year has commenced. Your letter was late making its way into my hands due to the heavy snow in the east. The messenger could
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not come to bring my mail for over two weeks. I felt fortunate to receive it before I left the winter camps around Washington, D.C.

Mr. Johnson asked me to go west to observe and illustrate the troops under the command of General Ulysses S. Grant who has undertaken the task of securing the Mississippi River for the Union and disrupting the Confederates’ supply lines to Kentucky and Tennessee. Yesterday with the help of newly equipped ironclad ships, he surrounded Ft. Henry on the Tennessee River and easily defeated the Confederate forces there. When the fort’s commanding officer asked for the best terms for capitulation, General Grant gave no ground and called for immediate and unconditional surrender.

With no chance for reinforcements, the Rebels had little choice but to lay down their weapons and be taken prisoners. Fifteen thousand of them. Some of the prisoners are being sent north, but others were paroled with the provision they won’t take up arms against the Union again. A condition there is no way to enforce, but there is also no way to handle such a large group of prisoners.

The victory with so few losses is a good beginning for the Union forces in the west and may cheer the worried masses in the north. Bud Keeling, a reporter here, has sent in a report calling the taciturn Grant “Unconditional Surrender” Grant. He claims his story in the
NY Times
will make Grant an immediate hero. I doubt the General cares as he focuses on moving to his next objective which some say may be Ft. Donelson on the Cumberland River. Keeling and I are on one of the ironclads, but if the river narrows, we will have to find horses or march with the men. I will send a sketch of the ironclad for your Sister Martha’s journal whenever I am able to post this missive to you. Not an easy thing in the midst of war.

It is difficult for me to imagine the Southern belle I met at Grayson now stirring soup and spinning thread. Are you gathering eggs and milking cows, too? What an image that brings to mind. One I am tempted to draw. But it’s far nicer to imagine you walking the snow-covered paths in the garden as you wait for the return of the rose.

Ever your friend,
Adam