History and Horror, Oh My: Kevin Wetmore

Kevin Wetmore is the author of over a dozen short stories and several books, including Post-9/11 Horror in American Cinema and Back from the Dead: Reading Remakes of George Romero's Zombie Films as Markers of Their Times. He lives in Los Angeles where he also acts, directs, teaches and does stunts.

Kevin contributed "Report on an Incident after the Battle of Malvern Hill" to History and Horror, Oh My! The "Report" tells the story of a soldier's grisly discovery during the American Civil War, but we found his description of the 'normal' events in the war equally gruesome. We decided to learn more about what inspired him to write the story and how he researched it.

How did you pick the genre/setting/era you (usually) write in?
I write horror because I like horror and spend a good deal of time reading and watching that genre, so it is also the one I know best. I wrote this short story about the Civil War era because it is a period that really interests me. It really was the first modern war - the first machine gun, the Gatling Gun, was in use by 1962 by the Union army. It was a very violent and horrific conflict that was well documented through photographs and soldiers' journals and letters. (The description of a the aftermath of a battlefield looking like a single entity came from a soldier's letter home, for example). So there was a lot of material with horrific potential even before adding the monster element. I also wanted to explore a story written as a letter, so the Civil War setting also lent itself to that task.
It don't usually write in this period. Most of my fiction is either set in the present or in the immediate future. It is fun, though, to write about the past. I usually end up doing a lot of research to be accurate. I wrote a story set at Halloween 1955 that was really a tribute to my father's childhood and the first thing he did after reading it was tell me all the things I got wrong - the night that particular TV shows were on, how families ate dinner - just details that someone alive then would know but are not necessarily found in books or websites. So I think I like writing about the Civil War or the Renaissance - nobody tells you that you got the details wrong.

How did you come up with the idea for your story in History and Horror, Oh My?
I recently read James McPherson's Battle Cry of Freedom and found myself horrified by the battle descriptions. I also started thinking about the terrible starvation and famine that followed in the South and how deserters would follow the armies looking for food. I also look at the descriptions of the military hospitals and the conditions under which hundreds of limbs would be amputated in a single day after battle and began wondering what would happen if the desperation drove the deserters to feast on those limbs. I think I was also playing with the metaphor of feeding off of others found in slavery. The whole story was intended to convey increasing unease and disgust after the fact as a wounded soldier reports on the horrific battlefield experience, the even more horrific hospital experience, and then finally the realization that someone had eaten your flesh and now had a taste for it. While there are lots of horrible ways to die, I think knowing that you are being consumed by something else is particularly disturbing.

Did you encounter any obstacles in researching the setting?
No, actually. The Civil War is frighteningly well documented. It was just making sure you get the details right. Knowing that a certain unit disbanded on this date and was absorbed into another unit, or that men from a particular unit only came from one town are things you need to get right, because there is always that reader that knows and gets pulled out of the story when the read something they know isn't right, and I want the reader in the story while he or she is reading it. Plus most of my writing has been non-fiction, so I actually really enjoy the research. I keep a notebook on my desk as I am researching things for my non-fiction work, as I come across something that will make an interesting story I make a note of it and then start working on a story later. That's actually how this one began life.

Who is your favorite author, and what really strikes you about their work?
I am a huge Ray Bradbury fan. Love his stuff. He has a gift for language and for detail that just makes him a pleasure to read. I've read Something Wicked This Way Comes so many times I have whole sections memorized. My fiction is mostly short stories, and he is certainly a master of the form, so he has proven an excellent model. I also really like Joe R. Landale's short stories. His novels are fine and fun, but his short stories bite and don't let go. I think "The Night They Missed The Horror Show" is still the most horrific thing I have ever read. It's like reading an accident - everything slows down and you see the bad things coming and are powerless to change the outcome. That story left a mark.

What are you working on now?
As always, many short stories and several non-fiction projects. I've been interviewing the participants of Zombie Walks, Zombie Runs, Zombie Crawls, etc., really anything where people dress up and pretend to be zombies for a book about why we play dead - not just watch zombie movies, but why folks want to pretend to be a reanimated corpse. I have several stories coming out over the next several months and several I am currently revising. Like all writers, I think about a novel, but the short story form is what really interests and occupies me right now.

Okay, so you're an author. What do you enjoy reading?
As an author, anything and everything. Ideas are everywhere, information too. I start the day with the newspaper, then read novels, history, science books, plays, magazines - everything.

Read Kevin Wetmore's story for Yourself!
History and Horror, Oh My! is now available in ebook formats on Smashwords and in print and Kindle formats on Amazon.

Book Review: Civil War Lexington, Kentucky

The History Press has just released a new book by Joshua and Karen Leet, titled Civil War Lexington, Kentucky: Bluegrass Breeding Ground of Power. In the interest of full disclosure, I was introduced to the Leets by fellow author Stephen Zimmer who invited me to their launch at The Morris Book Shop, here in Lexington, where I am sure you can still get autographed copies.

At first glance, you might think that Lexington is an odd choice for a Civil War book. There were no great battles fought in the city, nor was Lexington a key strategic location. Instead, Lexington contributed her greatest minds, bravest hearts, and most loyal citizens to the war. Civil War Lexington, Kentucky reflects the people, North and South, who loved their home state and fought for what they believed was in her best interests.

Joshua and Karen Leet take a history lovers' look at Lexington's leading families and Lexington's role in shaping United States history, and how Lexingtonian lives were changed by the war that divided the country. There is no deeply footnoted scholarly text to wade through; this is a book that is friendly to the lay reader. It's also the sort of book for history lovers, Civil War buffs, and anyone who loves Kentucky history. Certainly, there is enough meat to the text to be worthy of the researcher's shelf, but it also belongs in the gift shops of state parks and Kentucky historical sites, particularly those in the Bluegrass.

I am very happy to have this slim volume as a new addition to my Kentucky history bookshelf, and will be referring to it often to enrich the background of my novels.

Historical: Kentucky's Confederate Legislature

At the onset of the Civil War, Kentucky’s elected government was Union in its sympathies. Many citizens of the state, particularly those in the Bluegrass Region, were equally resolute in their support of the Confederacy. Even though Southern support was most common in the Bluegrass, hostilities in the North/South debate were not as clearly drawn as regional differences appear on the surface. The debate had raged for years in almost every household. When war came, brothers, and, sometimes, fathers and sons met on the battlefield. There was, however, enough support for the Confederacy to lead to the creation of a shadow government in Kentucky.

On October 29, 1861, representatives from 68 counties traveled to Russellville, Kentucky for the express purpose of planning a Confederate Government for the state. At the month long session, delegates voted for secession, created a new state seal, set Bowling Green as their state capital, and elected General George W. Johnson governor.

President Jefferson Davis had some reservations about circumventing the duly elected Kentucky Legislature in forming the new government. Copperhead members of the Knights of the Golden Circle convinced Davis that thousands of Kentuckians were ready to rise up and join the Southern cause once the state was part of the Confederacy. Hungry for troops from his home state, Davis put aside his ethical reservations. Kentucky’s Confederate government was recognized, and Kentucky was admitted to the Confederacy on December 10, 1861.

Kentucky is represented by the center star on the Confederate Flag, giving the state the unique position of being both a Northern and Southern state at the same time.

There was great hope that the shadow government would be able to funnel troops and money to the Confederacy. Those hopes were consistently crushed. The Confederate State of Kentucky had little impact on the war effort either in or outside Kentucky. General Johnson had to withdraw from Bowling Green in 1862. The Confederate government left with him, traveling with the Army of Tennessee until Johnson’s death at the Battle of Shiloh. They made one attempt to reenter the state, but were driven out permanently with the Confederate loss at the Battle of Perryville.

Our shadow government existed only for the duration of the war. Its legacy continues in the history of the commonwealth. Historical markers in Russellville and Bowling Green remind travelers of Kentucky’s two state governments.

Weekend Writer: Preparing for Authorfest

I am doing a talk next weekend on incorporating history into your fiction. I'm calling it "The Devil is in the Details." I chose that title because the details are critically important to readers of historical mysteries.  Before I write I research, research, research more, then pray that I did not miss one of those devilish details that plague writers everywhere.

Long before I ever tried my hand at writing, I was one of those evil and unforgiving readers. I never read another book by the author that put General John Hunt Morgan's statue in a story more than a dozen years before the statue was cast. Of course, I have never forgiven the sculptor either.  Everyone in Kentucky knows Morgan's horse was a mare named Black Bess. Pompeo Coppini, the sculptor, thought no hero should ride a mare and had the audacity to put Morgan on a stallion.

You might think talking about the statue is a digression, but it isn't. I am simply pointing out that if you change an important part of history you will not be forgiven. In the case of Black Bess, students at the University of Kentucky have responded to this insult by composing a ballad to her proclaiming respect for "a lady's balls" and frequently sneak onto the old courthouse lawn to paint them either blue and white (the school colors) or some florescent shade. I am sure that Black Bess is kicking up her heels in some horsey heaven and having an old-fashioned horse laugh every time those balls get a new coat of paint.

As I place the finishing touches on my talk for next weekend, I hope that readers of my book are more forgiving than I am. I am sure that under close examination, errors could be found. No matter how much time a writer spends researching a historical novel, it is impossible to find everything on a subject. There are also details that are widely misreported. In my research, I discovered that Belle Brezing is believed to have moved to Jenny Hill's on December 24, 1879, but her diary clearly gives the date as 1878. Her obituary in Time Magazine incorrectly reported the date, and everyone else took their information from them. Her biographer and the University of Kentucky website both use the misinformation, and I have already heard from one reader that I have the date wrong. Such is life.

Making Kentucky Southern

Before the Civil War, Kentucky was more Western than Southern. When the North and South collided over slavery, the heart was ripped from Kentucky. The state quickly declared neutrality, but neutrality in principle was much easier than neutrality in practice. By autumn, it was clear that the state would have to choose one side or the other. Uncertain of the vote, Union troops surrounded the capitol and refused to allow the legislature to meet until pro-Union forces had strong-armed enough legislators to win the vote. In one case, Pinkerton agents kidnapped a pro-Confederacy legislator and placed him between Union and Confederate lines in the hopes he would become a casualty of the war.

Voting to remain loyal didn’t end Kentucky’s deep divide. Union sympathizers organized Home Guards, Confederate sympathizers organized into State Guard militia units. Both groups poured money and supplies into their causes. Among the casualties of the conflict was the racing industry. Problems for racing interest arose when horse hungry armies began confiscating Kentucky’s beloved thoroughbreds. General Morgan, a native of Kentucky’s Bluegrass Region, was particularly good at finding and stealing the state’s prized racehorses. Racing stables had little redress for their losses.

The government was impotent at preventing the flow of horses and goods to the armies. The state house in Frankfort was surrounded by federal troops, and the legislature was prevented from meeting until President Lincoln was sure the state would not vote for secession. Meanwhile, President Davis and Confederate supporters set up a shadow government in Bowling Green and sent delegates to the southern legislature. Eventually the Union Army moved in to take charge, but dividing lines had already been drawn in each family. Through the long bloody war, Kentucky citizens bled through uniforms of both blue and gray.

Lee’s surrender may have marked the end of the war, but Kentucky’s troubles were destined to erupt in an array of new ways. The state government was in tatters, and readjustment (a word invented for Kentucky to justify martial law in a state that had remained in the Union) devastated the farming industry. Harsh fines and taxes imposed by the federal troops escalated to the point of bankruptcy for many Kentuckians. Washington compounded the problem by treating the state as a conquered territory.

The excesses of the federal government following the Civil War helped transform Kentucky into a solid Southern state. Within ten years of the war, travelers would be hard pressed to find any Kentuckian who admitted fighting for the North.

Voices In Mystery - Through the Eyes of Authors

During 2010's Magna cum Murder, Ball State professor Nancy Carlson interviewed Gwen Mayo about her novel, Circle of Dishonor.


See more of Professor Carlson's author interviews on her YouTube page.

A World of Secrets

When I talk about the Nessa Donnelly mysteries as a "World of Secrets" it is partly because secrets were such a strong undercurrent to the Victorian Era. Technology, industry, immigration, economic inequity and social upheaval created an atmosphere ripe for the rise of Secret Societies.

The Knights of the Golden Circle were estimated to have over 400,000 members in Kentucky. I would like to think that nobody in my family belonged, but the odds are that someone somewhere in my family tree was a loyal member of the KGC. If not, there were the Regulators, the Klan, or some other secret society to besmirch the family tree (at least by our standards today.

The ground between the public and private worlds of men and women became unstable in the aftermath of the Civil War. Middle and upper-class men turned to secret Societies, fraternal orders, and private clubs as a way of holding on to some semblance of the social order they understood. This didn't exempt the lower classes: the Klan was particularly popular with working class white men who deeply resented newly freed men competing with them for jobs and housing. Through the secret societies, they hoped to regain the social position the war had taken from them.

Rolling on the River: Reposted from Dr. Grumpy's Blog

The following is reposted for the history buffs out there and for me, because I hate to lose a good Civil War tale:

http://drgrumpyinthehouse.blogspot.com/2010/09/weekend-history-lesson.html

It was the American Civil War.

In February, 1862, the city of Nashville, Tennessee, was captured by Union forces. This began one of the strangest episodes in North American military history.

Overnight, Nashville was converted into a supply depot for the Union's southward moving forces. The amount of locomotive and riverboat traffic increased dramatically, as did the population of Union soldiers. Some were stationed there, others were passing through on their way to different fronts.

And prostitutes, the eternal ancillary business to military campaigns, became prevalent. An area of town called Smokey Row (named after the opium dens) featured over 70 brothels. Aside from thousands of soldiers, rumored clientele included Lincoln's future assassin John Wilkes Booth, and Lincoln's successor to the Presidency, Andrew Johnson (no link aside from coincidence has ever been uncovered).

Syphilis and gonorrhea were rampant. Soldiers and prostitutes equally became ill from diseases spread in Smokey Row.

Pvt. Franklin Bailey wrote his mother that he'd need a dictionary "to find words enough, and then I could not find them bad enough, to express my hatred of those beings calling themselves women" in Smokey Row. Later in the same letter, however, he tried his best (perhaps he borrowed a thesaurus) and wrote that they were "abominable, low, vile, mean, lewd, wanton, dissolute, licentious, vicious, immoral, and wicked."

Pvt. Bailey, however, was an exception. The general feeling of most troops was that "No man can be a soldier unless he has gone through Smokey Row"

The Union commanders were less concerned with morals than they were with military capabilities. With many of their troops hospitalized from sexually transmitted diseases, the ability to launch further military campaigns was impaired.

Punishing soldiers didn't help. Nor did medical lectures. And antibiotics were in their infancy.

Something had to be done. Since the soldiers were needed to fight the war, they couldn't leave.

And so, on July 6, 1863, General James Morgan issued "Special Order No. 29".

This order basically said that prostitutes in Nashville were to be rounded up and sent somewhere else. How and where weren't specified.

And so into the picture entered a plain 3-month-old steamboat named Idahoe and her captain/owner, John Newcomb.

Idahoe was one of many steamboats at the waterfront under charter to the army. History has not recorded why she was chosen out of the many available.

Union forces rounded up hundreds of women from Smokey Row, storming buildings and catching women who tried to jump out of windows to escape. Non-prostitutes were also inadvertently nabbed in the confusion, just from being too close to that part of town during the operation, and required family to free them.

On the morning of July 8, Capt. Newcomb was finishing his breakfast coffee on board the Idahoe, when he was assaulted by noise. As he walked to the gangplank he was met by Colonel George Spalding, who handed him an order that read, "You are hereby directed to Louisville, Kentucky with 100 passengers put on board your steamer today, allowing none to leave your boat before reaching Louisville."

Even as Newcomb read this, the ladies were being driven on board. He was given no money to buy food for them, nor guards to enforce discipline.

How many women were put on board the Idahoe is unknown. The ship was built for 100 passengers. No reliable count was taken, and the best estimate is 150-200.

The journey to Louisville was a nightmare for Newcomb. His unwanted passengers destroyed the boat's once luxurious furnishing. He had to buy ice (for fevers) and food, at his own expense. Places where he stopped for supplies put guards at the dock to keep the women from disembarking.

The prostitutes continued to ply their trade, waving at men as they went upriver, and raising their dresses to advertise. Customers rowed themselves on board for brief stays as the Idahoe chugged slowly along.

By the time he got to Louisville on July 14, word of his unusual cargo had preceded him, and local authorities refused to allow him to disembark the ladies. Instead, he was ordered to proceed to Cincinnati. Kentucky's military governor assigned several soldiers to the Idahoe to serve as guards to help enforce discipline. This quickly failed, as the men given this coveted assignment received free services from the passengers.

By the time he got to Cincinnati, of course, the local government also refused to let him unload his passengers. Newport, Kentucky, on the other side of the river, didn't want the "frail sisterhood" (as the local newspaper called them), either.

So with nowhere to go, the Idahoe anchored off Cincinnati for several days, and turned a brisk business as a floating brothel while Captain Newcomb aged rapidly. Somehow he managed to persuade the army to telegraph Washington D.C. for a decision, and the question went all the way to U.S. Secretary of War (now called Secretary of Defense) Edwin Stanton.

Stanton was managing the complex issues of a war covering half a continent and an ocean, and was likely stunned by the unusual decision that showed up on his desk that day. He came up with a direct solution: Take them back to Nashville, and deal with it.

So on August 3rd the Idahoe returned to Nashville, and it's passengers resumed their usual lifestyle. This gave the headache back to the Union commander (now General Robert Granger) who spent a few days trying to find a solution, and finally came to a very pragmatic one: he legalized prostitution.

Under the new rules, each "public woman" had to have a license ($5) but needed to pass a medical examination first. She was then required to have another exam every 10 days in order to keep her license.

The solution was a success. Suddenly the "wayward women" had a legal profession. Disease control (by the standards of the time) improved. The prostitutes now had access to medical care that they didn't have previously. The Union doctors assigned to the "Hospital for the Reception of Valetudinarian Females from the Unhealthy Purlieus of Smokey" (yes, that really is what they called it) began taking notes, and wrote some of the first detailed reports on the sociology of prostitution.

The program was such a success that physicians from other cities came to study it.

Captain Newcomb spent the next 2 years trying to get reimbursed, meeting with military officials and eventually pleading his case in Washington. Finally, on October 19, 1865, he received payment of $5316.04. This was the amount he'd been asking for from the beginning for damages, new furniture, fuel, food and medicines purchased, etc.

He had a long career on the river, but never shook off the reputation as the "captain of the floating whorehouse".

He sold the Idahoe a few years later. In 1869 she was lost in the Washita River, cause unknown.

Charged with Impersonating a Man

It is hard to know how many women disguised themselves as men and participated in the American Civil war. Most estimates put the number around 400, but that's just the best guess historians can derive from known discharge records and the records of women who applied for service pensions. Discharge records are unreliable, though, since women discovered and discharged from one company would often reenlist in another. Pension records are more accurate, since those presenting them were required to provide proof or service. However, there was a risk in revealing service when it was a criminal act to impersonate a man.

Of the hundreds who ignored the law, took on male roles in male attire, and stepped onto the battlefields, certain names are remembered better than others. Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, the only woman ever awarded the Medal of Honor, is the most famous of these women. Dr. Walker did not pretend to be a man, but was arrested on numerous occasions for "impersonating a man." She fought her way through medical school and believed that she should be allowed to dress as she pleased. The law disagreed, arrested, fined and imprisoned her, but they could not stop her acts of defiance. She was buried in her suit and vest with her medal pinned to her chest.

Dr. Walker was the exception. As a rule, women not only dressed in male clothing, they changed their names, pasted on beards, and did whatever it took to pass as male. Look at the histories of Loreta Janeta Velazquez, Sarah Rosetta Wakeman, Sarah Emma Edmonds, Jennie Hodgers, or Pauline Cushman. Their photographs might make you wonder how they got away with posing as women. But the fact is that some women were never discovered, never drew attention to themselves, and never went back to living as a woman.

These unknown women are the inspiration for Nessa Donnelly. She is not the Irish beauty so often portrayed in the movies. Nessa was a skinny, flat chested girl with wild red curls, big ears, and crooked teeth. If you look at pictures of the Irish immigrants who flooded onto American shores between 1845 and 1852, you will find a lot of girls like Nessa. No one paid them much mind as they worked as maids, nurses, and seamstresses. It is unlikely that one would have drawn much attention if she disappeared in the waning days of the Civil War and was replaced by a skinny Irishman. She wouldn't have been the first or last to have risked being charged with impersonating a man...that is, if she ever gets caught.

Revisiting the Regulators

Writing about post Civil War Kentucky takes me down a lot of different roads. Revisiting the Regulator Uprising of 1879 took me on a road back home to Eastern Kentucky. There were Regulator problems in most Kentucky counties throughout the decades of discord,the decades from the end of the Civil War through the early 1900's. In 1877, a large portion of Martinsburg (Sandy Hook) was burned by Regulators. The uprising had its beginning in Elliott County, but quickly spread to Lewis, Carter, Boyd, and Rowen.

On the night of October 20, 1879, about 200 armed men took two prisoners (John W. Kendall and William "Bill Muck" McMillan) from the Martinsburg jail and hanged them from a tree in the court house square. The hangings started a virtual vigilante takeover of local government. Hundreds of men joined the Regulators and thousands of families lived in fear of their version of law enforcement. During their vigilante governing of Eastern Kentucky, these masked men acted as the legal and moral police of the region. They took it upon themselves to discipline not only lawbreakers but drunkards, abusers, derelicts, loose women, adulterers, etc. Regulators would swoop in on horseback, threatening, beating, and often driving offenders from the community.