Cow Hollow, The Battle That Never Was

A warm glow filled the horizon as the morning sunlight stretched its arms through mist and trees. The tall, dark silhouettes of oak and maple stood in stark contrast to the magnificent orange light growing behind them. Addison could feel the cool morning air envelope him and drew a deep breath, taking in the sweet, musty smell of a dew covered forest. A sparrow began its morning report from a nearby branch as a distant movement between two slender birch trees caught his eye. Instinctively, he reached for his musket; it wasn’t there. Stepping closer to the nearest oak, he watched intently. Though still a good distance away, at least fifty yards or more, he judged the shadowed figure to be near five and a half feet tall and slender in form. He wondered if he should alert the camp, there could be more coming, but he decided to wait and watch.

The shadow moved amongst the trees gracefully, seemingly without purpose, but steadily closer. There were still no signs of others. Watching intently with bated breath, Addison could soon make out the mysterious specter’s clothing. The interloper appeared to be wearing a long, flowing gown which was nearly transparent against the piercing rays of the rising sun. The outlined figure was very feminine in nature, but what on God’s green earth was a woman doing out here, especially at this hour? Perhaps she lived at a local farmhouse and was just out for a morning stroll, he thought. Stepping to leave the cover of the tree, he heard her soft humming and his heart nearly stopped beating. This could not be, he thought; it was a tune his wife would often sing, particularly when she was happy. It even sounded like her voice. He stood frozen in time between what he longed to be true, yet knew was impossible. The gap had closed between them to less than twenty-five yards and with the growing morning light, he could almost make out her features.

Soft, wavy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a drawn veil catching sunlight as if to wear it like an intricate golden head-dress. When she turned her head to the side he noticed a small, round nose and slight lip line that could only belong to one person. The moment she turned her head back, the sun broke over the horizon to outline her very familiar features in an angelic glow as he thought was only fitting. Now her face was in full view and there could be no mistake. His heart leapt in his chest like a thoroughbred jumping out of the gate. Their eyes met and she spoke, “Addie. Come home with me,

His feet broke loose from where they had taken root amongst a thick layer of wet fallen leaves and rich, moist Virginia soil. He ran so hard it almost seemed he was flying, but something was wrong; the gap between them remained the same. He pushed harder, lungs burning, only to get the same result. She reached for him with fear in her sparkling blue eyes, “Addie! Addie! Addie!” Then the world sifted away like beach sand in a stiff wind…

…”Addie! Addie! Wake up!” A hand shook his shoulder as he cracked an eyelid. Gone was the peaceful forest, the shifting morning mist, and worst of all, his lovely wife, all replaced by the square set jaw and wild green eyes of ‘Boots’ McMillan. Addison recognized the look in his eye and with a sigh rolled to his left side to resume his much needed slumber.

“Go away, Boots. Whatever you’re scheming, leave me out of it.” Pulling his Union blue cap over his eyes, he shifted the haversack he was using for a pillow and gave a wave of dismissal to the intruder, but un-thwarted, Boots remained.

“Come on, Addie, we ain’t none of us had a decent meal in days ‘n see there’s this farmer what brings his cow fer a lick at his well every night ‘n some of us fellers was gonna run him off ‘n commandore his livestock to ‘aid the Union war efforts!’ Trouble is, we don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout heardin’ no cows, so we need all the help we can get!” Boots sat back on his heels, took off his cap, and wiped away the glistening droplets of sweat from where they’d formed on his brow. “Sides,” he continued, “we’re in south territree now, so that makes it ok, right Addie?”

Addison released another belabored sigh and rolled over onto his back. It was clear Boots would lend him no rest till this matter was settled. He wished he could have gone home with his wife, leaving his slumbering body lying against this tree till the end of the war. Lifting the brim of his hat, he looked boots in the eye, “First of all, Boots, the word is “commandeer”, second of all, there is no herding involved with one stinkin cow, and thirdly, that poor farmer is not a soldier, not part of the war, and needs that cow to feed his family. Just leave it be! Our rations will come soon enough!” Addison held the other man’s gaze.

Boots simply blinked and said with a hint of pleading his eyes, “Well…we’s still awful hungry ‘n sides, we can leave him some steaks…”

Addison couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “That’s mighty generous of you, Boots, it really is, but if you’re lookin’ for permission, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.” Boots looked like a hungry puppy who’d just been spanked for trying to snatch a pork chop. “But,” Addison went on, “I guess someone ought to witness this disaster who can explain it at the court marshal.” He rose, righting his cap on his head, and brushed some leaves and dead grass off the backside of his trousers.

Boots sprung to his feet lit up with excitement and ready for action like an orphan at his rich uncle’s Christmas party. “I knew I could count on you, Addie!” Boots clapped a big arm around his shoulder and gave a hearty squeeze, “Old Gus said you’d never go for it, but I know’d better!”

“Old Gus. I should’ve known. This just keeps getting better and better.” Old Gus was a stubborn old goat who followed the camp around hoping to see one last hoorah before taking his final dirt nap. He was too old to enlist, but too stubborn to get rid of. The commanding officers had tried to run him off a couple of times, but he’d turn up amongst the ranks just the same a day or two later. Since he wasn’t any trouble and didn’t get in the way, they finally gave up and let him come along for the ride. He even carried his own musket, which must have dated from before the revolution and it looked younger than he did at that! Shaking his head, Addison followed after boots who had already started towards the other side of camp. “And for the record, Boots,” he called, “I’m not ‘going’ for anything other than observation!”

The small group of men huddled around a crude sketch in the dirt. The holding a stick spoke in hushed tones while the others watched intently, periodically nodding in agreement. The one with the stick was one of the quartermaster’s men. Addison had never seen him do any actual cooking, he mostly served and scrubbed, but you could tell by looking at him that he sure took eating seriously. He wasn’t an enlisted man, but rather one of the volunteers who, along with aiding the quartermaster, assisted with any other odds and ends around the camp. The rumor was, he was quite the handyman, though you’d never hear him brag about it. The rest of the group was mainly comprised of the company screwballs, the type who were good folk, but despite their best efforts, never really fit in anywhere, even with each other. By the time Addison was within earshot they were drawing straws on who would clean and dress the animal for the quartermaster.

“Jimmy, that’s when you grab ‘eem, put the sack over his head, knock ‘eem clean out cold, and tie ‘eem up in the barn.” Shivers, the man with the stick, so named due to his frequent night terrors from which he would often wake shaking, held Jimmy’s gaze momentarily before Jimmy stared down at the dirt in front of him as if searching for a piece to a puzzle which he knew he should have already solved. That’s when Shivers, Shivs for short, glanced up at Addison with a look of bewilderment, then looking to Boots in askance, “How in the world did you get ‘eem to…”

Boots held up his hand to interrupt, “He’s just here to observerate.” He interjected, choking on his last word as if he were trying to say it with a mouth full of marbles, then he gave Shivs an exaggerated sly wink and popped a squat next to Jimmy who, by the look on his face, was still puzzling over his part in the plan.

Addison rolled his eyes, “The word is observate!” Catching his mistake before it had even cleared his lips, Addison winced as he smashed his fist into his forehead, “O – b – s – e – r – v – e.” he carefully enunciated, “Dammit! I should still be asleep!”

Looking back to Addison, Shivs said to Boots, “Told you not to wake ‘eem.” Then, with a shrug, he turned his attention back to the perplexed Jimmy. “Now, Jim, when you tie ‘eem up, you wanna use a…”

“But I don’t understand, Shivs, what am I supposed to knock him out with?” Jimmy asked with such sincere innocence that everyone simply stared at him in silence until Shivers, with a perturbed look of annoyance, reached out and smacked him in the head with the stick he’d been holding, then threw it in the dirt at Jimmy’s feet. Rubbing his head and checking for any signs of blood, he reached down and picked up the stick. Holding it up in front of his eyes for examination, he smiled and nodded at Shivs in agreement. That’s when Old Gus, who’d sat in silence next to Jimmy the whole time, cracked a wide toothless grin, then coughed out a wheezy chuckle, which soon tumbled into hysterical laughter, which then avalanched through the whole group leaving them with wet cheeks and gasping for air.

After yet another meal of split rations and weak coffee, Shivs came around to collect utensils giving each man involved in his special operation a nod and a wink, intended as a signal to meet at the edge of the nearby cornfield in thirty minutes at dusk. Each man returned the wink and nod as they added their tins to Shivs’ growing stack. Addison rose to his feet, stretching his back. Noticing the fires growing brighter and the sky dimmer, he embarked at a slow stroll toward the edge of camp noticing some of the men in his company along the way. Henry Carpenter, from Lansing, stooped on a stump pulling out his harmonica. He began playing a soft hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Thomas Barker, of Maple Grove, stretched out on a patch of grass to read a letter from home. After struggling to see which was better, firelight or the tangerine glow lining the fading sky, his eyes eagerly scanned the page. Addison watched long enough to see the man shake with both chuckles and tears before moving along. As he passed the officers tent, he saw Major Cutcheon, a Yipsilanti man, looking over field reports and studying a map. Addison wondered where they’d march to next. Wherever it was, he hoped there were rations waiting for them when they got there. Tents would be nice too. The combination of hunger and sleeping in the elements was starting to put everyone on edge. Stopping at the edge of camp, he pulled his pipe and a small pouch of tobacco from his breast pocket. Staring off at the graying horizon he filled the bowl of his pipe, packing it in tight, and then lit it with a few quick puffs of thick white smoke. It curled around his head before disappearing into the night air as he contemplated what the next few months might bring. He wondered how many of those men he’d just passed would be amongst the ranks on the march home. Then he wondered if he would be amongst the ranks who’d be marching home. He imagined the reaction of his dear wife. Then he thought of his children. Before he could wipe the tear that streaked down his cheek, wetting his thick, black beard, a large hand clapped his shoulder so hard he nearly dropped his pipe from between his teeth.

“C’mon, Addie, it’s time!” With Boots’ hand still on his shoulder, Addison had no choice but to walk along beside him as he continued his stride toward the corn field in the near distance. Turning his attention in that direction, he could see the silhouettes of the rest of the group. There would be six in all; apparently that’s how large an army is required to capture one lone cow. Addison shook his head as he was rushed along to the meeting point. If nothing else, he hoped this would at least be entertaining.

When Addison and Boots arrived, Shivs was instructing the rest of the group, “Everyone remembers the plan, right? We surround ‘em, Jimmy cracks the old man in the head with his stick…” Jimmy rubbed his head at the mention of the stick as Old Gus gave another wheezy chuckle. “…That’s when we all close in on the cow before she has a chance to run. Oscar, you’ll shoot her from the north side and Norman, you’ll shoot her from the east side.”

Addison rolled his eyes in disbelief, “They’ll be lucky if they don’t shoot each other! Neither one of ‘em can hit the broad side of a barn at high noon, much less a black and white cow in the dark!” After several moments of menacing glares from six sets of eyes, Addison shrugged his shoulders in surrender and motioned them to carry on.

“While Jimmy’s tyin up the farmer in the barn,” Shivs continued, “the rest of us’ll be guttin ‘n cuttin’. Any questions?” Shivs looked to each man in the group. When his gaze landed on Jimmy, he sheepishly raised his hand. “Cut it out, Jimmy, yer not in school ya damned fool! What is it?”

“Tell me again why we hafta tie him up in the barn?” Shivs swelled up with frustration and Jimmy raised his hands to head expecting another blow to his already tender skull, but it never came. Shivs calmed himself with a long, deep breath.

“WE ain’t tyin ‘eem up, YOU are and it don’t matter as ta why, just do it you mule headed pea brain! Any OTHER questions?”

Looking like ten year old boy who’d just peed himself, Jimmy shook his head and gave a nearly inaudible reply, “No.”

“Good. Now let’s get movin!” The group, except for Addison, moved as a single entity toward the small farmhouse across the nearby road. It almost appeared as though they were marching into a real battle. Then one of them pulled out a small Union flag while another started tapping out a cadence on his thigh. That’s when Addison knew this would just be too good to pass up. He set off in the direction of the gulch in which the little farm lay, with the occasional wisp smoke drifting up from his pipe, still firmly clutched between his lips.

The scene at the farmhouse was quiet. The still calm of the night, which had become quite dark by this point, save for the light of the stars, had completely enveloped the slight dwelling making it appear quite lonely and isolated. Addison stood on a knoll overlooking the property. From there he reckoned he’d be able to witness this folly through to its inevitably disastrous end. He couldn’t help but smirk as in the distance he made out the muted figure of Shivs motioning ‘his men’ into position around the poor, unsuspecting farmer’s humble homestead. Addison truly felt sorry for the man. He likely had sons who’d already run off to fight for Lee and ‘state’s rats’, or as it was pronounced in the north, state’s rights. So, there he was, left to farm his land and make due on his own, not knowing if his sons would ever return to aid in the revival of his already suffering livelihood. Just moments after the last of the attack party had slipped into place, as if on cue, the farmer exited his front door, buttoning his trousers and pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders, and made his way toward the barn. Judging by the slight waddle in his stride, his wife was a good cook. Addison wondered if perhaps they should have plotted to abduct her instead of the cow. After a short moment in the barn to un-tether the animal, they emerged together and embarked on their traditional evening journey across the gulch to the stone well on the hillside opposite the house. Addison glanced over at Shivs who was frantically motioning to Jimmy to wait. After a quick look in Jimmy’s direction, it was clear he wasn’t getting the message. And thus it began.

Before the farmer could get within twenty yards of the well, Jimmy was running full tilt toward him, stick held high above his head. Oddly enough, when the farmer turned to face his attacker, Jimmy released what sounded to Addison like a Rebel yell. Without missing a beat, the aged farmer calmly sidestepped the crazed intruder and extended a foot. Jimmy went sprawling at the cow’s feet who didn’t look disturbed by the incident in the least. Unfortunately for Jimmy, he was at the business end of the cow, who promptly conducted said business, much to his disdain. As Jimmy scrambled to get out from under the bovine’s raised tail, the farmer disappeared into the barn, then darted out, pitchfork in hand. Wiping a clod of muck from his eye and scuttling to his feet, Jimmy saw the approaching farmer with his pitchfork leveled at Jimmy’s chest and he turned tail toward a small stand of nearby trees. His retreat was hastier than his attack. That’s when a shot rang out from the dark. What followed could only be described as pandemonium.

Shivs was shaking his fists in silent rage, Jimmy had reached the nearest tree and began climbing frantically, even though the trunk would never support his weight beyond five vertical feet, the cow jolted to attention and raced straight toward the camp which drew fire from both Oscar and Norman simultaneously, Boots was closing the gap between him and the farmer who had hit the dirt at the first shot, and Old Gus was on his knees holding his sides from the pain of laughter. Apparently Gus had tagged along for the same reason as Addison had. The travesty didn’t end there. The cow, in a dead run toward camp, passed Addison without notice, charging through the camp and anything in its path along the way, which happened to include the officer’s tent. Oscar and Norman, sights set on their target and not much else, had reloaded while taking chase after the cow and periodically knelt to fire another ball, then back on their feet to pursue their game while packing in the next round. Looking back toward the farmhouse Addison saw that the farmer had reclaimed his pitchfork and was now chasing a very scared Boots off into the dark of night. That’s when Addison also noticed the farmer’s wife who was now standing at the front door in her frilly night dress, cap, and slippers with a musket in her hands looking for anything worth firing at. It’s a good thing poor eyesight had robbed her of most of her night vision. Addison decided it was time to make his way back to camp before someone thought he had something to do with this fiasco.

The camp was a perfect picture of disaster and chaos. Men were scrambling to arms; Colonel Williams was barking orders as Lt. Colonel Smith and Major Cutcheon emerged from the disheveled tent which the cow had made short work of laying to ruin. Rumors of surrounding enemy troops were flaring through the camp like wildfire and a bugle was sounding the command to assemble ranks. That’s when Addison decided it was time to inform Colonel Williams that there was no impending danger and the men could stand down. Before he could move his feet, Shivs trudged by him, a big round bundle of frustrated disbelief. He was muttering something to himself about best laid plans going to waste and bungling idiots. He reached the Colonel before Addison and was already confessing his blunder. Even in the dim, dancing orange light of nearby fires he could see the Colonel’s face turn seven shades of red as Shivs, now near tears, carefully outlined his picture perfect plan and how it went awry. That’s when a winded Boots appeared at Addison’s side.

“Whooohooooo! Addie, did ya see me tear into that farmer! He’ll think twice afore messin with a yank agin, won’t he!” The look on Boots’ face was almost convincing.

“I reckon he will, Boots; I reckon he will.” Addison replied with a smirk.

Boots’ cheer was enough to catch the Colonel’s eye, that’s when he stopped Shivs, who was now all but pleading for his life, in mid sentence and started shouting orders for the men to stand down explaining it was a false alarm. He leveled his gaze at Shivs. “I’ll deal with you in the morning! As for any other involved parties,” his gaze was now scanning everyone who’d stopped to listen, which was essentially anyone within earshot, “they’d better be front and center in ten minutes!” A frozen crowed of faces began looking to one another starting to wonder who, exactly, was involved in this muddle. “Dismissed!” Colonel Williams spun on his left heel, turning to his second and third in command. After a few hushed words, the three moved away from the crowd for a more private conversation. Looking back to Boots, who now looked quite worried, Addison shook his head and started out to find Jimmy and Old Gus.

Old Gus was easy enough to find. He’d already laid his head on his knapsack and was lying there staring at the sky with an ear-to-ear toothless grin on his face. Addison almost didn’t have the heart to spoil his fun. He nudged the old man gently with his boot, “Colonel wants you front and center in ten minutes.” He told him with a solemn sincerity that instantly erased the grin, replacing it with furrow of concern in the man’s wrinkled brow. Before Gus could query Addison continued on to search for Jimmy. As spooked as the boy was, he well could be half way back to Michigan by now.