The Calvaryman

Wisconsin 1861

It was several months before Grace received her first letter from Joseph. She knew that it was hard for letters to get through, however. It was one of the many problems of war. She was ashamed to admit that she didn’t know if she had forgiven him for enlisting in the Union Army. While they both agreed that slavery was inherently wrong, it seemed like it happened so far away that it didn’t affect her or anyone she knew. Still, she knew Joseph was a moral, upright man and in good conscience, he couldn’t allow the South to secede from the Union and continue its evil practice of owning slaves. All men deserved to be free. On that note, they both agreed.

Still, the sacrifice of going to war seemed great. But Joseph wasn’t one to just talk the talk. He also had to walk the walk. She remembered their very last conversation when he told her that he had enlisted. It was shortly after they had become engaged. Her head and heart were still reeling. It seemed like one moment, she was giddily planning a wedding, and in the next, she was desperately clinging to him, unwilling to say goodbye.

“I have some news for you,” he had said earnestly. His bright blue eyes peered into her soft brown ones. He looked so serious, she was suddenly afraid.

“What’s the matter?” She had asked worriedly. “Are you alright? Are your folks okay? Is someone sick?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he assured her. “You know what’s been going on with the war, right?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, her heart sinking. She suddenly knew exactly what he was about to say.

“I’ve enlisted. I’m now part of the 4th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry. I leave for training at Camp Randall in less than two weeks.”

“No.” She protested. “It can’t be. You can’t go!” 

“I have to,” he said gently. “You know I do.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know. I’ll miss you too,” he brushed a lock of wavy light brown hair away from her face and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. “I’ll miss you so much. But I need to be part of this. I need to help make the world a better place.”

“But you could do that by staying here,” she argued. “You know your parents are getting older, and they need your help on the farm. And our wedding is supposed to happen later this year.”

“I know,” he said. “But my little brother’s still around to help. He’s too young to enlist, but he’s not too young to work the farm. And,” he sighed, “as much as I would love to marry you right away, I’m afraid our wedding will have to wait until I get back from the war.”

“But I don’t want to wait,” she wailed, breaking down into even more tears.

‘I know baby, I know,” he said. He shifted uncomfortably out of her tight embrace and looked deeply into her eyes. “Have you ever heard the saying - ‘For evil to flourish, it only requires good men to do nothing?’ I can’t be one of those men who sits idly by doing nothing. I can’t allow evil to flourish.”

Grace was silent for a moment. “I know,” she heaved a tremendous sigh, struggling to rein in her tears. She felt like once she started crying she would never stop. She needed to be strong for him. It was the least she could do.

“I’ll wait for you,” she said stoically. “Just promise me one thing . . . “ she implored.

“What’s that?” he asked. “You know I’d do anything for you,” he said fervently.

“Keep your head down. Stay safe. Come back to me whole and in one piece. I don’t know how I’d live without you if anything happened.”

“I promise,” he said solemnly.

A sudden uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Joseph had once more pulled Grace close. She now desperately held on to him, her hands squeezing his firmly muscled arms. She never wanted to let go. She was afraid that once she were to do so, he would disappear permanently, never to return. 

Joseph didn’t know what else to say. As common with most solemn occasions, he was rapidly becoming uncomfortable. The tension was unbearable to him and he needed to do something to release it. His mind jumped around frantically. Before he could stop himself, he uttered the first thing that popped into his brain.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything,” she promised.

“Can you visit my horse occasionally?”

“Blaze? Why am I not surprised …”

Grace knew just how much he loved that horse. Out of all the horses on Joseph’s family farm, Blaze was his favorite. Blaze was Joseph’s riding horse, used to round up the dairy cows, as opposed to the Percherons, who were only used to drag the plow. Wisconsin was not cowboy country, not like the West. It was somewhat unusual to use a horse to herd grazing black and white Holsteins. However, Joseph found it a very efficient method for driving the cows back to the barn. He greatly enjoyed the time he spent on his beloved Blaze, so named because of the distinctive lightning bolt blaze of white on his nose. 

“Blaze loves you almost as much as me. I'm afraid he’s going to miss me a ton. He knows you always bring him apples from your orchard, however,” he attempted a feeble smile. “He’d like that and it might cheer him up if he starts missing me.”

“Sure thing,” Grace also tried her best to smile. Leave it to Joseph to think about his horse at a time like this. 

The time passed all too quickly. Each moment spent with Joseph was precious. Before Grace knew it, he was gone.  She was secretly glad that Joseph had extracted from her the promise to look after his beloved horse. It gave her something to do when she missed him fiercely.

Like her, at first it had been a little rocky for Blaze with Joseph gone. Joseph’s little brother, Andrew, had told her that Blaze had even stopped eating.

“C’mon, boy,” she had coaxed the horse one day on a visit, stretching out her hand holding a juicy red apple in front of his soft nose. “Eat this nice sweet apple!”

For a few long moments, the horse had stayed stock still, eyeing her somewhat suspiciously. Grace continued speaking gently to the animal.

“I know you miss him,” her voice broke. “I miss him too.”

Blaze’s ears pricked, as if he were hanging on her every word. 

Grace suddenly threw her arms around his warm neck, “We gotta stick together, you and me. We’re all he has left.”

She held the horse’s neck tightly for a few more moments, and then backed away, once more extending the apple to him. “Take it, you know you want it.”

Finally, blessedly, the horse bent down his head and took the apple in his mouth and began chomping. Grace heaved a sigh of relief and felt cleansing tears begin to flow. From that moment on, she had made it her mission to visit the horse at least every other day. She found that talking to Blaze, feeding him apples, and brushing his soft coat brought her some measure of comfort when she was lonely for Joseph. 

She had finally received her first letter from him. The letter was short. Joseph wasn’t much of a writer. He just said that he was fine, and his unit hadn’t yet seen any action. He was somewhat bored and anxious, missing her a lot. He closed the letter by sending her all his love and said that he hoped she was also visiting Blaze.

From that moment on, Grace was even more adamant about seeing the horse. It wasn’t too many weeks after she had received that letter, however, that she fell ill with a high fever and painful, hacking cough. It was also right around the time the first snows of the season fell. 

It was almost a month before she gathered enough strength to finally make her way over to visit Blaze. As she walked over to Joseph’s family farm, she spied Andrew, who like her, was also warmly bundled up to combat the frigid Wisconsin winter.

“Hi, Andrew,” she greeted him.

Andrew looked so much like Joseph, it hurt. He was just a younger, unformed version of Joseph. Andrew was still a boy, but Joseph was a man. And he was her man. She couldn’t wait to marry him, live with him, and raise a family. It was all she had ever dreamed of.

“I have some bad news for you,” Andrew said in reply.

Grace felt her heart drop to her stomach. She could scarcely breathe.

“What is it? Is it Joseph? Is he okay?” 

“Joseph’s fine,” Andrew assured her. “At least as far as I know . . . “

Grace felt the world once more tip back on its axis.

“Thank God,” she breathed. “What is it then?”

“It’s Blaze. He’s gone.” Andrew’s voice was small.

“Gone where?” Grace was confused.

“We don’t know. That’s the problem. When the blizzard hit, he went crazy. Busted down his stall and ran out of the barn. It must have happened during the night. When I went to feed him the next day and bring him some water, he was gone. We can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh no!” Grace felt like bursting into tears. “Did you try looking for him?”

“We’ve looked everywhere,” 

Grace felt like she had lost Joseph all over again. But she knew just what Blaze was doing. He was looking for Joseph. And it was all her fault. She hadn’t been around to reassure the horse. To bring him apples. To bond over their mutual loneliness and longing for the man they both loved. Blaze must have felt deserted and desperate. Grace knew just how he felt. 

“I am so sorry. I loved that horse too,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’ll look for him too, as best as I can.”

It was a long cold walk back to her own family’s farm. She found herself looking everywhere for Blaze, but he was nowhere to be found. 

For the first time, she was glad that her correspondence with Joseph was one sided. He could write to her, but she couldn’t write him back. She had no way of knowing where to address his letters, since his unit moved frequently. She would hate to have to tell him that his beloved horse had disappeared. Maybe when the war ended, Blaze would somehow magically reappear. It was probably a futile hope, but one she nonetheless clung to.

It was several more months before she received another letter from Joseph.

I hope you’re doing well, the letter read. I miss you so much and can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to come home and marry you and start our life together. It’s all that keeps me going. I do have some good news, though. The 4th Wisconsin Infantry is now the 4th Wisconsin Infantry and Calvary. That means I get to ride a horse! I am now a “cavalryman.” You know how much I love horses. They are going to assign me my own horse. He’ll be mine as long as I am in the war. It won’t be Blaze, of course, but at least, I get to ride! Speaking of Blaze, can you give him a hug from me and feed him one of your delicious juicy apples? All my love, Joseph.

Grace felt worse than ever. Joseph had entrusted her with his horse, and Blaze was missing. She vowed to redouble her efforts to find him. She would keep looking each and every day, even if it was bitterly cold outside. She could at least take a long walk and hunt for him.

She kept her promise and took a walk around the countryside every day she could, weather permitting. Her efforts were futile, however. Blaze was nowhere to be found. Each night, she said a prayer both for Joseph’s safety and for Blaze’s return. When she prayed for Joseph’s safety, she remembered her words to him “Keep your head down. Come back to me . . . “

Louisiana 1862

Joseph finally got his wish and was now seeing battle. The older soldiers, who had been at war longer, called it “seeing the elephant.” Joseph had no idea where that expression came from. He still didn’t know if he wanted to “see the elephant” or not. War was exciting, but also scary. He was now a mounted soldier, a cavalryman, complete with horse and rifle. They were now somewhere in Louisiana. The Confederates had them pinned down in a valley, while the rebels had the advantage of being up on a hill, firing down on them. The sound of gunshots was deafening as bullets rained down all around him.

The sound of horses squealing also filled the air. It was an unearthly, horrible sound that went straight through Joseph’s bones. Somehow the sight of bloodied, wounded men dying around him was bad enough, but the sight and sound of dying horses was more than he could bear. The 4th Wisconsin was not in a good position. They were surrounded by the enemy. The outlook was grim.

“I need a volunteer to ride up over the hill, through enemy lines to the other side. To get more Union men from the other brigade. Maybe we can attack the enemy from behind. It’s our only hope,” his captain said. “Who’s a good, fast rider who wants to volunteer?”

Joseph’s hand went up. He had always prided himself on his riding.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“Godspeed, my man. We’ll try to hold the line in the meantime.”

Joseph kicked his horse, a young gray stallion, and rode away as fast as the horse would go. As he rode up the hill, he took care to stay as far away from the enemy as possible. Despite his best efforts, he heard gunshots all around him. He suddenly remembered Grace’s words, “Keep your head down.”

He bent down close to his horse’s neck and kicked it hard on its sides. No sooner had he bent down, then a bullet whizzed directly over his head. His heart skipped a beat. Thank the Lord, it missed. He was really seeing the elephant, that was for sure.

He had almost made it down the other side of the hill, when he heard a horse rapidly approaching him from behind. He kicked his horse again. His horse was now getting winded during the wild ride, but was doing its best to flee what surely were terrifying sounds. 

Joseph heard the distinctive crack of the rifle and once again, bent down low over his mount. Suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his side. He tried his best to stay on the horse, but the force of the bullet threw him off the horse, and he fell to the hard ground. The rider kept bearing down on him where he lay. With the shooting pain in his side, he layed still, gritting his teeth and holding his breath. His only hope of survival was to play dead.

The Confederate soldier rode by and shot him in the head. 

“Take that, Yankee,” were the last words he heard.

Wisconsin 1862

With shaking hands, Grace opened the letter she had just received. It was addressed to her, but it wasn’t in Joseph’s handwriting. She was afraid to look.

Dear Miss Schmidt,

I regret to inform you that your fiancee Private Joseph Boyle was killed in battle in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His actions, as a cavalryman, were heroic. You can take comfort and pride in knowing that Private Boyle died with glory and honor in defense of this great nation. He made the ultimate sacrifice on the field of battle and we owe him our deepest respect and gratitude. With my deepest condolences. General Albert Lee, Union Army. 

Grace fell to the floor sobbing. As she did so, she took the letter and angrily flung it into the wood stove. She watched as the flames greedily licked up the paper and reduced it to smoldering ashes. She gave a bitter laugh. She at last had found Blaze. The horse had made its way back home. Joseph had not.