The Last Confederate

by Gilbert, Morris

  The hours rolled by and soon the candles were half their original length. The refreshments had been replaced over and over, and the musicians had played every tune they knew at least a dozen times.

  Thad had steadfastly refused to dance with Pet, so she had remained at his side. But he had spoken to almost everyone, shyly at first, but with more freedom when he saw that no shadow of guilt remained on him after the court-martial pronounced him innocent.

  But when the end of the evening came, he got caught in a trap that Pet had carefully laid for him. While Thad was watching the dancers, Mr. Sky Winslow stepped up beside the musicians and called for quiet.

  The music stopped abruptly and everyone turned toward Sky. “We have welcomed you all,” he said, “and we want to pay special appreciation to our kinsman from the North, Captain Lowell Winslow!” He waited until the applause died down, then continued. “But there is another person here from the North who has chosen to make the South his home—Private Thad Novak. Will you please come forward—and you too, Patience.”

  Thad was stunned and wanted to run from the room, but Pet discerned his intention and grabbed his arm, whispering fiercely, “Come on!” He realized he had no choice but to follow her as she passed through the crowd to stand beside her father.

  “You know the story of this young man, so I need not repeat it, but I will say that I am as proud of him as I am of my own sons! He will soon be back with his company, and I want us to give him a hand for his courage and his selflessness!”

  The room exploded with wild applause, and Thad found himself surrounded by well-wishing Confederate officers.

  When order was restored, Sky said, “I think a speech is in order.”

  “Oh no!” Thad protested. “I can’t, Mr. Winslow!”

  “No speech?” Sky’s eyes twinkled. “Well, my daughter Patience did say you would refuse—but she also said you have a fine singing voice, so we demand a song, do we not?”

  A cry of approval went up, and Thad shot a stricken look at Pet. “You told!” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll get you for this, Patience Winslow!”

  “Come now, Thad; what will it be?”

  Thad had always been a singer, but not for others. Pet had discovered he had a gift, and had made him sing on the creek banks while they were fishing or in the woods hunting coons. But to sing before this group of rich people who had heard professional singers—it made the fear course down his back. Then Pet slipped her hand in his and urged, “You can do it, Thad! Sing the one I like so much.”

  He swallowed and said, “Well, all of you officers have heard this one, but maybe some of you ladies haven’t. I guess, aside from ‘Dixie,’ it’s the song our men like best—and I’ve heard that the Yankee soldiers sing it a lot, too.” He took a breath and began to sing a cappella, but a French musician named Jacques DePont began to weave music from his violin as Thad sang. He had a clear tenor voice, and the words floated over the room easily:

  “The years creep slowly by, Lorena,

  The snow is on the grass again;

  The sun’s low down the sky, Lorena,

  The forest gleams where the flowers have been,

  But the heart throbs on as warmly now,

  As when the summer days were nigh;

  Oh, the sun can never dip so low

  Adown affection’s cloudless sky.”

  The audience stood motionless, for the young man’s dusky handsome face and his clear melodious voice seemed to represent the whole war. The sadness of the lyrics brought the brevity of life close, and all of them were thinking of friends and relatives who lay in unmarked graves on distant fields. Vance felt a tremor run through Belle, and put an arm around her, drawing her close as Thad sang on:

  “We loved each other then, Lorena,

  More than we ever dared to tell;

  And what we might have been, Lorena,

  Had but our loving prospered well—

  But then ’tis past, the years are gone,

  I’ll not call up their shadowy forms;

  I’ll say to them, ‘Lost years, sleep on!

  Sleep on! nor heed life’s pelting storms.’

  “It matters little now, Lorena,

  The past is in the eternal Past;

  Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena,

  Life’s tide is ebbing out so fast.

  There is a future! O thank God!

  Life, this is so small a part!

  ’Tis dust to dust beneath the sod;

  But there, up there, ’tis heart to heart.”

  As the last strains of the song ended, Belle sobbed and left the room, followed by Vance. He caught up with her on the veranda, pulled her around and asked, “Belle—what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, Vance!” She fell against him and began sobbing, her body shaken by a storm of weeping. He held her, confused by her reaction, for she was not prone to weeping.

  Belle herself was confused. She had been a happy, carefree person all her life, wanting nothing. But lately, being the prettiest girl at the dance had become stale to her, and she had suffered fits of depression ever since her engagement to Vance. A vague dissatisfaction had crept upon her, and she had wept several times at night, not knowing why—just as she did now.

  As the words of the song Thad sang came to her, she was struck with how little she had done in life—little that counted. And now as she composed herself, she drew back and looked up at Vance with tears running down her cheeks. “Vance, I want us to be married.”

  “Why, so we will, sweetheart,” he said, somewhat astonished at her urgency. “We’ve talked about it—how it will be better to wait—”

  “No. You talked about it—and my parents. Nobody asked me what I wanted.”

  “Belle!” he groaned, “you don’t know what it can mean, being married to a soldier. I could be killed tomorrow—or even worse, I could be maimed and you’d have a cripple to take care of the rest of your life!”

  “Am I a hot-house plant, Vance?” she cried out vehemently. “Are you supposed to make all the sacrifices—bear all the risks?”

  “You’re a child!”

  “No!” She was suddenly in his arms, and pulling his head down, she kissed him with an urgency that she had never shown. “I’m not a child, Vance—I’m a woman! And I want to be your wife!”

  He was overwhelmed by her passion. He himself, despite his casual airs, wanted to marry Belle more than anything in the world, but had not thought she was ready. Now he said, “Are you sure, Belle?”

  She pulled him to her, kissed him with a long lingering caress, then whispered, “I want to marry you now, Vance! Let’s not wait!”

  The following Monday they were married in a hastily prepared wedding at the church—despite protests from all directions. But Belle had her way, and the newlyweds left in a carriage for a brief honeymoon, overjoyed and happily waving goodbye to everyone.

  Sky stood with his arm around his wife, watching their daughter leave. “Well, Rebekah,” he said, “it’s done. What do you think?”

  “They’ll need our prayers, Sky,” she replied quietly. “Even in ordinary times, Belle would be a difficult girl to make into a wife. And in the middle of a war . . . !”

  “He’s got his hands full,” Sky agreed. Then he smiled and gave her a hug. “But so did I—and we’re still at it. Here I am, an old man and still in love with the girl I married!” He stared after the carriage, saying prayerfully, “God be with them!”

  Thad and Pet also watched the couple leave. “I feel so happy for them!” Pet murmured.

  Thad nodded and said cautiously, “Me, too, but—they sure are takin’ a chance.”

  “You have to take chances!” Pet retorted rebelliously. “What do you want to do, go live in a cave and not think beyond the walls?”

  He grinned at her. “A man sure wouldn’t have to worry about bein’ bored if he was married to you, Patience Winslow!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  INVASION

  �
��I wish you didn’t ever have to go back!”

  Pet had been lying on her back staring up at the thick, leafy foliage overhead. A combination of fatigue, the cool air beside the brook, and the singing of choirs of insects had almost lulled her to sleep. But a disturbing thought intruded into her mind as she dozed; she had rolled over to look at Thad, who was lying beside her, his mouth slightly open as he slept.

  A smiled curved her lips as she lay there quietly thinking of the six days that had sped by since the court-martial. She and Thad had been out at dawn every day, and there was not a square foot of Belle Maison they had not covered. She had shown him the bumper crop of pigs and yearlings that had prospered under Jacob’s expert care. The names she had given some of them had amused Thad—such as the stubborn boar she had named “U.S. Grant,” and the prize yearling she called “General Lee.” Toby had joined Thad and Pet at times to point out with pride the huge fields of vegetables that grew luxuriously, and which would be spilling over in a few weeks.

  Pet picked up a straw and drew it lightly across Thad’s lip, giggling when he slapped at it, taking it for a fly. She continued to torment him, thinking of the cool nights spent at the river fishing for blue channel catfish, and the nights they had sat around a fire listening to the dogs chase a fox. Dooley had always kept foxhounds, and Thad had been surprised to learn that the object was not to catch the fox—but to sit around and listen as different dogs struck trails. They all sounded pretty much alike to Thad and Pet, but Dooley knew each voice as if it were human. “That there’s ol’ Choklate,” he’d nod as a low, moaning cry had come floating to them. He’d told them what a Yankee had said once about fox hunting as he’d watched the poor farmers at it: “The unspeakable in pursuit of the inedible!”

  Thad slapped again at the straw, jerked himself awake with a grunt, then sat up, yawning widely. “Nearly dozed off.”

  “You’ve been asleep for about an hour,” she said with a trace of tartness. “Fine way to treat a girl.”

  “Gosh! Guess I must be behind on my sleep.” He stretched and asked, “Did you say something to me—or were you just talking?”

  She pulled his ear playfully. “I said I wish you never had to go back.”

  He blinked quickly, then shrugged. “I guess everybody in the whole army wishes that—and all their families.” He didn’t like to think of going back either, and stood up, pulling her to her feet. “We have to get back,” he said. “I got a chore to do in town.”

  She mounted the mare reluctantly and said as they walked their horses beside the brook, “I want to go to the meeting tonight.” A new preacher had come to pastor the small church in their neighborhood, and word had gotten around that he was a fine evangelist.

  “Reckon I’ll be back in time, but Mark sent word that Major Lee wanted to see me, so I have to go.” He swung his gaze over the panorama of fresh country, savoring the lush fields broken by low rolling hills. Fall stood on tiptoe, flavoring the late summer air with a sharp tang, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Reckon it’s something about going back on duty. The regiment’s been expecting to go at any time.”

  “I feel sorry for Belle. She and Vance haven’t had much time.” Pet thought about her sister and shook her head in wonder. “Can’t ever get over how much she’s changed, Thad! Why, it’s almost embarrassing to watch her, she’s so took up with her new husband!”

  “Love does funny things to people,” Thad nodded sagely.

  Pet giggled explosively, then rolled from side to side in the saddle, laughing helplessly.

  “What’s so funny?” Thad demanded.

  “You are!” she gasped. Her eyes were filled with laughter. Finally she took a deep breath and asked, “Where did you get all this vast knowledge about love, Thaddeus?”

  He reddened and ignored her. Kicking Blackie in the sides he shot ahead, calling out, “Let’s get moving!” They raced madly alongside the brook, then cut across the fields. When they came to a rail fence, Thad turned toward the gate some fifty yards to his left, but Pet spoke to her horse and went sailing over the fence. Thad hollered, “You crazy girl! You’ll break your neck!”

  She was standing beside her horse laughing at him when he pulled up into the yard. “Let’s go to town in the buggy, Thad—you can tell me some more about love and all that stuff!”

  Belle and Vance came out of the house just in time to hear that, and both of them laughed. “We better go along, Belle,” he suggested, holding on to her waist. “I may need a few pointers myself.”

  She turned and kissed him, whispering, “No, you don’t. But I need some things.”

  As the women ran to get ready, Vance said, “I’ll help you hitch up the team, Thad.”

  “Well—maybe you better not, sir,” Thad answered uncomfortably. “Captains don’t help privates, do they?”

  “Not when anyone else is around,” Wickham grinned. “But we’re in the family now, and nobody’s looking. Come on.”

  As they hitched up a set of matched bays, Thad asked, “Mark says Major Lee wants to see me. Would you be knowing why?”

  “Don’t know a thing about it, Thad.” He slipped the collar over the mare’s head and laughed. “I guess I don’t know much about anything. Didn’t know getting married addled a man’s brain so.” Threading the lines through the guides, he gave Thad a wry grin, adding, “Better keep an eye on me, Thad. If I start calling some of the men ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’ slap me alongside the head, will you?”

  “Miss Belle is sure changed—and so are you, sir. Never seen two people so happy.” As they finished and walked the team out of the corral onto the drive, Thad asked hesitantly, “Do you—I mean, have you all talked about what would happen if you were . . .”

  “If I were killed?” Vance finished for him. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried to, but it upsets Belle so much, I had to give up. Guess I’ll just have to keep the Yankees from killing me,” he ended lightly, then said quickly, “There’re the women. Don’t mention anything about this to Belle.”

  They made the trip into town, with Belle and Vance in the back. Their amorous behavior embarrassed Thad, but amused Pet highly. Finally they reached Richmond, letting the women out on Cherry Street near the shops. “You go spend all my money, sweet,” Vance said. “I’ll go on down to the camp with Thad. Maybe there’s some news of the battle.”

  They drove through the streets to the large encampment area where the regiment waited. When Thad pulled up, Vance jumped to the ground, saying, “Be here in one hour sharp, Private Novak!” winking slyly at Thad as a notice that they were on official status now.

  Thad found that Company A had gone into town almost to a man, but Tom rose up from where he was reading a book. “Hi, Thad. See you made it.” He nodded toward the large tent housing the officer command quarters and said, “Mark told me to send you in as soon as you arrived.”

  “What’s it about, Tom?”

  “No idea. Stop and tell me before you leave.”

  “All right.” Thad walked across the line of small tents to larger ones, and came to attention and saluted as Lieutenant Beauchamp suddenly stepped outside.

  “Oh . . .” Beauchamp was caught off guard, but he returned the salute. “Come in, Private.”

  He stepped back inside, and Thad followed. Major Lee and Lieutenant Winslow were examining a map on a folding table. “Private Novak is here, Major,” Beauchamp announced.

  Both men looked up, and Major Lee smiled. “Well, Private, you are prompt.” He examined Thad’s face more closely and added, “You’re looking much better. Lost some of that prison pallor. Feeling better, too, I’d wager.”

  “Oh yes, Major,” Thad returned quickly.

  “Well, I’ll be brief,” Lee replied crisply. “There are two matters my officers and I need to discuss with you, both of them having to do with building up our strength. We are down by thirty percent since the Peninsula Campaign, and before we move out, we need every man we can get. Now, I kn
ow that you were weakened by your prison experience, but Lieutenant Winslow here says that you’ve recovered marvelously well. I’ll leave it with you, Private—do you feel able to march with your company?”

  Thad had been expecting this, so he nodded at once. “Yes, sir.”

  “Fine!” Lee replied, then smiled and said, “As of right now, you are promoted to corporal.”

  Thad was startled and opened his mouth to protest, but Major Lee held up his hand. “It was by common consent in your company—and among the three of us, I might add.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir!”

  “I know you will. Now, there is one other matter, and I hardly know how to put it.” He paused and looked down at the ground, then lifted his head as he spoke. “Private Mellon is being held on charges of perjury. It is, of course, a military court, so the matter is still in the hands of the court-martial. If things go according to tradition, he will be tried and sentenced. Since he is patently guilty, he will spend several years in a military prison.” Major Lee gave Thad a curious look. “How would that seem to you, Corporal?”

  Thad shifted uncomfortably for a second. “Why,” he said, “I don’t like to see anybody go to jail, Major.”

  Lee exchanged a glance with his lieutenants and nodded. “That was exactly what Lieutenant Winslow told me you would say. Now, here is what can be done. If I recommend it—with your agreement—the court will release Mellon for active duty. He will be on probation, but with the understanding that if he proves himself to be a good soldier, the charges will be dropped. What would you say to such a procedure?”

  “I say let him join the regiment, sir,” Thad answered at once. “He won’t do us any good in a cell.”

  Major Lee smiled broadly and his dark blue eyes gleamed with approval. “I am happy you see it that way, Corporal Novak. Now, I will ask you to join your company no later than eight in the morning. Lieutenant Winslow, will you draft the document for the court and take it at once to Colonel Andrews? I have—ah, hinted to him of this possibility, so you’ll find him agreeable. Come with me, Lieutenant Beauchamp, and we’ll visit that blackguard of a quartermaster again.”