Carl is trying his hardest to get Luke to hear him. At the edge of the woods, Napoleon cannons are being un-limbered and on the move. The men are all talking at once, horses whining, and officers bellowing orders. Luke hears enough to begin pushing his way through the group of soldiers toward Carl; finally, they reach each other.
“Carl! Carl! It is good to see you after yesterday’s battle. I am so glad you survived.” Before giving Carl time to answer Luke continued, “Have you seen anything of Father – he was badly injured yesterday, and I have no news of him, and brother Matthew, do you have information of him?”
“A bit of news, Luke – yer brother Matt he’s doin’ fine – I seed him a little while ago, back yonder in yer ‘E’ Company area.”
“That’s great news, Carl, I have not been back to my Company yet. I have been going up and down the line seeking word on Father and Matthew. What news on Father, Carl?”
“I seed him being bared away from the field on a blanket. I don’t know where they took him tho’.”
“Was he alive?”
“Luke, I can’t say yea or nay. I was only close enough to catch a glimpse of hiz face, I’m sorrie, but I couldn’t tell ye if he be livin’ or not. All I knows is his eyes wuz shut.”
Returning to his Company’s assembly area, Luke searches for Matthew. His Company of 230 men has been decimated by the previous days fight, finding his brother Matt is not difficult, only about half of his Company remains.
“Matthew!” Grabbing his brother by his shoulder – Matt turns.
“Luke, I thought you were dead, thank God you are alive.
They continue to hug each other tightly. “I am so happy to see you Matt, tell me about Father, what happened to him? Is he alive?”
“I’m sorry Luke, I could not stay and find out. As I hid behind a boulder, the command was given for the Company to fall back and regroup for another assault on the Yanks. I could not remain any longer I had to follow the Captain’s order; however, just before I was leaving a Union hospital orderly arrived and began abating the flow of blood from Father’s wounds. I asked him his name, I will never forget it if I live to be a hundred, this Yankee boy’s name was Charles Babb. If and I mean IF, Father survived he saved his life. This Babb feller told me he would get some stretcher bearing to come get Father. After the battle, what was left of our Company force-marched from the area of the Devil’s Den to this place we now occupy. I’m truly sorry Luke, I let you and Father down! I didn’t get a chance to look for him again.”
“Do not worry Matt, you did all that was possible. You certainly have nothing for which to be ashamed.”
Matthew tells Luke today’s rumor is the Rebels are to attack the Union forces occupying the far hill toward the west.
Luke confirmed the rumor of the impending attack, telling Matthew he heard it personally from General Lee. He told Matthew about the encounter with Bobby Lee and how he was so close he had overheard the conversation between General Lee and General Longstreet.
Unable to finish orders were being given: “Fall In! Line of Battle, Fall In,” yelled Company ‘E’s commanding officer Captain Leake. The Captain draws his sword from its scabbard, swings it wildly over his head as his flag bearer falls in line beside him. The Confederate soldier, hardly past his sixteenth birthday, tightly grips his tattered Stars and Bars - a torn and dirty flag bearing the scars of dozens of previous battles. Remnants of previous battles such as ‘Cedar Run,’ ‘2nd Manassas’ and ‘Sharpsburg’ had been sewed on the red and blue pendant; although, ragged and shredded these names of horrible places were still readable. Grabbing their muskets, the soldiers hurry into a line of battle preparing for the attack, an attack that will add the name ‘Gettysburg’ to their proud banner.
Luke stands beside Matthew. Matthew withdraws a black ostrich plume. “Mama said this black feather belonged to Pappy Scarburg. He wore it at the Battle of Scarburg Mill and gave it to Grandfather Thomas. This, I wear in their honor,” he said sticking in into his cap.
He turns and looks to his left – as far as he can see are four lines of soldiers with another four immediately behind them. Dozens upon dozens of Stars and Bars flutter in the breeze, turning to his right the same scene is repeated. Standing at the edge of the trees, he sees Traveller and his stately rider General Robert E. Lee. Lee is sitting his saddle as though watching a parade, his grey, bearded face emotionless.
Luke, for the first time, turns his attention from his side of the field of battle to the enemy on the far side. He can see the Stars and Stripes flapping all along the Union line. He can also see the Union soldiers behind a low rock wall. This is the December ’62, Battle of Fredericksburg all over again – except this time the South will be the force attacking an imbedded enemy.
At Fredericksburg, the Confederate forces occupied the high ground behind a short stonewall. The Union attackers, under the command of General Ambrose Burnside, mounted a futile frontal assault on these entrenched, seasoned, veterans of General Stonewall Jackson. The Yankees were cut to shreds, suffering 13,300 casualties. Luke knows the table is turned today. The battle of Fredericksburg was like lambs being led to slaughter. Now Luke and thousands of his fellow Southerners were to be the lambs.
His eyes return to the red, white and blue colors of the Stars and Stripes waving on the far hillside. They are as tattered and war-worn as his own Stars and Bars. Glancing from left to right along the Union line, the multitude of American flags seems innumerable. For a brief second, his allegiance to the Confederacy is forgotten. He thinks of the dozens of times he has heard the tale of his great-grandfather fighting the British and how he had received a wound to his leg at the Battle of Scarburg Mill. He remembered how the British had hanged his other great-grandfather, Pappy Scarburg, during the Revolutionary War for simply being a humanitarian. And his great uncle Charles, who also fought for the American side, but was never heard from again. He thought of his grandfather Thomas, fighting on the American side in the War of 1812, and he remembered his own father Robert Steven fighting with the United States army against the Seminole Indians. His whole family, for generations, had defended those same Stars and Stripes sacrificing everything, home, life and limb, now he is being ordered to defeat the very symbol his forefather’s fought and died so hard to defend — the American flag!
Chapter Eight
ALABAMA OR BUST
After Robert’s grandfather Pappy John had been hanged, his father Thomas re-opened the mill when he returned from the War of 1812. During the war, for heroic action, he had received a battlefield promotion and was discharged as a Captain. He operated it until his death in 1848. From that date to the present, Robert’s brother Isaac carried on the milling tradition. Since the current war started, the Mill was still operating; however, most of the local corn and flour was being impressed into the Southern cause. What the Confederates didn’t purchase, the home guard confiscated or just plain stole. Sometimes small groups of Yankee soldiers would come through the area and pillage what they could carry off.
Fortunately, Robert made a trip to the Mill a couple of weeks before he left for the army. He had returned with a few large sacks of flour and some bags of cornmeal. That was over a year ago, but Malinda had been frugal, and still had meal and flour even after sharing with her close neighbors.
Today, Malinda is using part of Robert’s flour to bake fresh bread. Mattie Ann gets a whiff of a tantalizing aroma drifting out the kitchen window across the yard to her playhouse. She jumps up and runs to the back door. She has already concocted a reason for coming back into the house – in hopes of getting a slice of the fresh bread. “Mama, tell me some more old tales about Granny Scarburg and when y’all lived in Caroline,” she pleads opening the oven door to check the bread as little Millie joins them.
“Shut that door child, and be careful, don’t you let my bread fall!” Turning back to Mattie Ann, “So you want to hear about the old days, huh? All right you two pull up a chair, that bread won’t bake any faste
r with you watching.”
She began with her Grandfather Ingram and their life in Virginia. She explained how they moved from a comfortable, civilized life to an unsettled wilderness in South Carolina. Mattie Ann sits with her elbows on the table, her head resting in her hands. She was set to absorb every word. The story of the red-tailed hawk was good; she believed there must be more tales left to tell. Lizzie is more occupied with her doll than hearing stories of the old days.
“Now I’ve already told you Granny Scarburg was full-blood Indian, I was told Pocahontas was somehow related to her.”
“Poco...who?”
“Later, I’ll tell you about Pocahontas, now I am going to tell about your Granny. I know she did not want to leave her family in Virginia, but her father said a wife’s duty was to be with her husband.”
She explained that their father inherited Scarlett from Thomas, their grandfather. Malinda told the two girls when Grandfather Thomas died he had thirty slaves working on Scarlett. Their father never approved of owning slaves, and one of the first things he did after taking possession of the plantation was to officially grant all the slaves their freedom. He said God never intended people to be chained, beaten or owned.
“Your Daddy and I were married the 25th of July in the year 1831. I was seventeen and your Daddy was just eighteen. Robert was never satisfied on the plantation. The slaves remained as freedmen, with a working salary, but Robert could not shake off the guilt of the many years bonded men worked to make Scarlett into the showplace it was.”
The bread is removed from the oven as Malinda continues telling Mattie Ann about ‘the old days.’ “After your father and I were married, we had lived on Scarlett for six peaceful years before war exploded with the Indians of south Alabama, south Georgia and northern Florida. The Indians were on the warpath against the whites all along the southeastern section of the United States. Your father thought it was his responsibility to join the United States Army and go fight the murdering heathens.
“I’m sorry girls, you have never been told this. I believe it is one of the most-important things that happened back then.” She told of Robert receiving his army discharge in Hall County, Georgia. How he placed it in his saddlebag and began the long horse ride from Georgia to South Carolina. He was on the trail close to a week. Anxious to return home he spent most of the trip in the saddle hesitant to even stop and rest. I don’t believe he would have even stopped to sleep if it had not been for the fact the horse needed rest.
“I remember the day he returned as if it were yesterday.” Tears began to swell in her eyes as she recalled those times and continued her story to Mattie Ann and Lizzie. “Robert later said he rounded the last bend in the road, nearing the long drive leading to Scarlett’s main house. He knew he should be able to see the big main house sitting upon the hill through the stand of oaks and maples growing near the entrance gate. Glaring intently he could sense something was wrong. He could not see our Scarlett.”
Pulling on the reins, “Whoa Black Magic, whoa!” His beautiful black stallion was motionless as he stood in the stirrups trying to get a better look. The house was gone. Spurring Black Magic he galloped up the drive to the charred ruins of what once had been the pride of the Scarburg family.
“Dismounting, the children and I ran to greet him. He was astonished.”
“What...what happened?” He asked.
“My father and mother, Granny and Uncle Willie are dead!
“I told him how about a month ago an Indian raiding party came through wanting food. Granny Scarburg met them in the front yard, but after conversing with them, something she said obviously made them mad. It may have been the fact that she was Cherokee and those Indians were Shawnee. Neither tribe had any love for the other. As Granny turned to walk back to the house one of the braves pulled an arrow from his quiver, placed it in his bow and swiftly released the deadly projectile toward her.
“The arrow struck Granny in her back killing her instantly. My father and mother ran to her defense, and they both were also killed.
“The Indians went on a rampage inside the house, grabbing what they could and smashing the rest. They set the house ablaze then mounted their ponies and rode off. Fortunately, they did not hurt any more of the family. The only other death was to Scarlett’s overseer, a trusted black man we called Uncle Willie. While trying to guard the doorway, to prevent the marauding band from entering the house, the leader of the Indians killed him.”
She tells the two girls how Robert had been gone only three months when he came riding home – a hero. He admits to Malinda that he personally had never fired a shot at any Indian. He said he saw a few, but they were friendly, and they only were interested in trading. At one time he had a marauding Indian in the sights of his rifle, but thought this savage was a man, a man just like he with perhaps a family too, he could not do him any harm. He let him escape.
Malinda explained she had saved only a few things from the main house before it was totally consumed by the fire.
“The Bible! Did you save Father’s Bible,” your father asked?
“It’s strange – your father was never a deeply religious man, but it seemed he valued that Bible more than anything he owned. She continued, “Sometimes late at night I would see him thumbing through its old pages – not reading you understand, searching as if he were looking for something.”
Malinda continued with her story. She told the girls that during the next couple of years Scarlett was rebuilt, but never to its former splendor. After returning from the Indian Wars, their father was never satisfied on the plantation. He yearned to get rid of the ‘farm’ and find someplace where the stench of slavery could not be smelled, and the memories of the past could be forgotten. In 1850, he got his wish; the Congress of the United States passed an Act granting un-settled land in Alabama to the Indian War veterans. The amount of land granted was 80 acres. Eighty acres wasn’t much, but it would belong to him. Scarlett was ‘his,’ it had been willed to him, but he wanted something of his own. He wanted to be a pioneer just like his grandfather had been before him. He was the son of a plantation owner, educated in the finest schools back east. He had always stood in his family’s shadow now he hungered to build his own reputation from the ground up.
In the spring of 1852, he went to the county courthouse and applied for his allotment of 80 acres of land. While there, he discovered the government had passed another Act granting an additional 80 acres. Now he could obtain 160 acres or one-quarter of a section. The land allotments were granted to him; within two months he had given a Power of Attorney for Scarlett to his brother. He always believed the plantation should have been divided equally between himself and his brother, but he was hesitant to do so since he was afraid our pilgrimage to Alabama might result in failure and we might have to return to Scarlett. He kept possession of Scarlett and allowed Isaac his brother to live there. Scarlett was his to run as he saw fit.”
She told Mattie Ann and Lizzie how the family left South Carolina on the 4th of July 1852 – Independence Day. Yes, Robert thought, Independence Day!
“Our wagons were loaded and ready to begin the long, arduous trip to Alabama. Three freed slaves requested to go with us. Sary, as you know was a wiry, no nonsense, five foot tall, kick butt and take names type house servant who is practically a member of our family wanted to go with us. She was with me through the births of all you children. She told me if more were to come she was going to be right there, too. Sary was married to Jed.”
She explained how Jed inherited the name Uncle Jed after he took over the day-to-day operations of the farm following the death of Willie – he and his son Jefferson were going to Alabama too. Jed and Sary’s only daughter Sarah had died a year earlier from the fever. Nathaniel, Jed and Sary’s older son, had moved his wife Elsa and ten-year-old son Nate Junior to a farm adjoining Elsa’s family back in North Carolina. Nate had been conscripted by a scouting party of Yankee soldiers and was pulling labor duty with the Union Army, so t
hey figured nothing was left for them in South Carolina. They too would begin a new life with the Scarburgs in Alabama.
“Where was me and Lizzie Mama?”
“Well, child, you two would not be born until we got settled in Alabama, and yes, Sary was here with me too. Just like she promised, and thank God she still is.
“I remember the morning we left Scarlett. I was happy and sad at the same time. I wish you could have seen us, Father driving one wagon, Jefferson another and Uncle Jed bringing up the rear. I can still hear your father: “All right, come on everyone get aboard. Let me count off the children, Luke, Matthew, Margaret, William, Isaac, Stephen and there you are Tom Henry. That is all the children Mother, let’s get going to our new home in Alabama.”
“Your father was almost correct, but that wasn’t all of my children. It had slipped his mind about your sister Cecelia June, the oldest by birth had already married Lester Smith in the summer of ‘49. Cecelia and Lester were staying in South Carolina. Then there was my darling little boy Paul - I walked over to the cemetery out under the trees close to the big house; I wanted to say good-bye. He was my second; he had died a long time before you two came along. I just had to say good-bye one last time.
“Your father had estimated the journey to take about two weeks. The first couple of days went by without anything happening out of the ordinary; on the third day, we were looking for a place to pitch camp for the night. It was getting close to sundown when we happened upon a cabin. The folks came out and greeted us, we talked and they wanted us to stay the night with them. They would not take no for an answer. The woman of the cabin even invited Uncle Jed, Sary and Jefferson to stay. The people in the house welcomed us all but said they were embarrassed that all she had for supper and breakfast was some bacon and cornpone. We gave her a large, cured ham, some homemade molasses, coffee and flour. You both should have seen the smile on her face; it had been a while since she had eaten so well.
Spake As a Dragon Page 4
