B00F9G4R1S EBOK

by Unknown

  The Sergeant Major had straightened out a couple of the bad eggs we had but Trooper Pickles remained a thorn in my side. He avoided all of the sergeants when he could but Dago and I knew that he was a bad influence. It was Jed who came up with the solution. “Tent him with our boys. Bill and Bert won’t take any nonsense from him and they can watch him.” It was a simple idea but it worked. Pickles remained truculent but he was isolated and he became more and more withdrawn. Bill and Bert were as loyal and solid a pair as you could wish to meet. It was not a perfect solution but it was a solution.

  We had no time for such distractions as we were the point of the arrow as we headed through Union territory. Fortunately there appeared to be no cavalry patrols as we headed through the empty lands of eastern Virginia. It was cold and our greatcoats were invaluable. I also wore my deer hide jacket over the top as it was waterproof. I don’t think that the colonel and the Sergeant Major approved but they granted me a little leeway as I was normally the one in harm’s way. Some of the things I had learned in the Wildcats were hard to shed in this new discipline, the cavalry.

  We camped ten miles to the north of Falmouth in the hills. There was little cover and, if the Union had any cavalry around them we would easily be spotted. Captain Boswell had mounted vedettes a half mile from the camp. If any cavalry came then we would soon know. We were all a little tired when we awoke but I soon became wide awake. Bill found me. “Sarge. It’s Pickles. He’s deserted. His horse, his gun, everything. He has fled!”

  The captain was not as annoyed as I was. “Good riddance I say Jack. We won’t miss him.”

  “No sir. I agree but he is a treacherous little bastard. I wouldn’t put it past him to go and sell his information to the Yankees.”

  Unfortunately the colonel agreed with the captain. “No, First Sergeant Hogan, we will not waste men to chase around after one deserter. I think he will sneak back home and we can catch up with him later on.”

  In a way the colonel was right. Most deserters had too many ties to their homes and would inevitably end up there and they would be caught. I wasn’t sure about Pickles. He was one of the most unpleasant men I had ever met. There was a malevolent streak in him a mile wide and I would have preferred that snake dead.

  We edged our way along the Falmouth road and then headed north to approach Fredericksburg from the direction of Stafford. We had travelled this route before and it was familiar. We saw the houses of the town in the distance and we could see that there were soldiers in evidence. Captain Boswell sought me out. “Right Jack, let’s take the first two sections and see what we can discover. Sergeant Spinelli and Lieutenant Murphy you take charge of the rest.”

  We trotted towards the town in an open skirmish line. There were fifty of us. I think that the captain wanted to intimidate the defenders and, perhaps, encourage them to send cavalry out to capture us. With the regiment waiting just out of sight it would be a pretty little ambush. We halted about eight hundred yards from the defences of Fredericksburg. The captain had field glasses and he scanned the town. “The reports were correct. They have improved the defences. It looks like they just have infantry on this side.” He grinned, “We are too far away for their little guns. I can’t see any cannons. I think we can risk a closer look. I surely would like a bunch of cavalry to try to get us. Let’s annoy them.” We moved closer.

  When we were five hundred yards from the town I heard a strange pop and a whizzing sound overhead. Suddenly I saw something climbing into the air and I couldn’t work out what it was. One of the new men did and he yelled, “It’s a shell! They have a mortar!”

  It landed fizzed and then exploded. I saw two troopers and their horses struck by the fragments and they died instantly. The concussion from the explosion almost threw me from Copper but I held tightly on to the reins. I saw the captain and his bugler knocked from their mounts. I jumped from Copper. She would come back to me when I needed her and I raced over to help the two men who were lying on the ground. I grabbed the reins of the captain’s horse as I shouted to Dago, “Sergeant, take the men out of range!” Dago began to lead the men to safety away from this dangerous and new weapon.

  The captain was dazed and he looked disorientated. “You are alright sir. Climb back on.” I helped him up and then ran to get the bugler’s horse. “You ride sir. I’ll see to the boy.” The dazed captain began to follow Dago and the others. I was just helping the wounded bugler on to his horse when I heard the whizz of the next mortar shell. I instinctively ducked down and the last thing I remembered was the crack of the explosion and then I was thrown through the air. The last thing I saw before I landed was a sky filled with smoke and flames and then it all went black.

  Chapter 9

  I heard the voices before I fully came too. “He is one lucky son of a bitch. They are still finding pieces of the horse and the bugler. Has he any wounds?”

  “No, Sergeant McNeil, he was just knocked out and I think he will come too in a moment. Let’s just try this.” Suddenly there was a strong smell in my nose and I leapt up, popping my eyes open. I saw a white coated man laughing. “Smelling salts will do it every time. He’s all yours sergeant.”

  To my horror I saw the uniforms were not grey but Yankee blue. I had been captured. The sergeant was portly and had a silver beard which seemed to fill his face. “Well son, you are one lucky son of a gun!” He shook his head in amazement, “When you was brung in I thought it would have been in pieces but there is nary a mark on you.” Your three comrades and their horses were not so lucky but we’ll bury them.” He picked up my equipment. This is a fine Bowie knife and this little bad boy is a fine weapon too.” He slipped the gun and the two knives into his belt. ”The fortunes of war my lad.” He leaned in. “I daresay I will get a good price for the Army Colt too. One’s man’s loss as they say. It’s the prison for you. On your feet. The major wants a word.”

  My hand automatically went to my Colt and the sergeant laughed. “You are now a prisoner son. Grabbing your hog leg and loosing off isn’t going to happen. Major Doyle will have a word with you and then it’s off to prison for you.”

  I then noticed the private pointing the rifle in the middle of my back. They were taking no chances. The sergeant led us out in to the street and we headed for a large building overlooking the river. There were cavalry horses outside and armed guards on the door. The sergeant paused before we went in. “Major Doyle lost a brother to you rebs in the battle here and he doesn’t take kindly to grey so try not to upset him.”

  “Thanks for the warning sergeant.”

  He shrugged and pointed at my stripes. “Professional courtesy, one sergeant to another.”

  He knocked on the door and I was led in. The major was a thin faced man. He looked as though he scowled more than he smiled. He looked like a picture from a magazine with his oiled hair and moustache. His uniform was well made and looked to be expensively finished. When he spoke it was with the New England twang I remembered from my days at sea.

  “So Reb, you thought you and your raggedy bunch of misfits would stick your nose into my backyard did ya?” I couldn’t think of a reply and I stood looking at him dumbly. “Weren’t expecting our mortars were ya?” So that was what had hit me, a mortar shell. I stored that information for future use. The major looked beyond me to the sergeant. “He can speak can’t he?”

  “Yes sir. Answer the officer, sergeant.” As he spoke he nodded in the direction of Major Doyle and I remembered his warning. This man wanted to take out his anger on me. I sensed I was in for a humiliating time.

  I looked at Sergeant Mc Neil as I answered. “I thought they were rhetorical questions sergeant but I will answer them.” I turned to stare insolently at this major. “Yes we did think we would stick our noses in your backyard because this backyard is Virginia and you are the invader. And no we weren’t expecting a mortar.” And then I smiled. I remembered how it had annoyed Caitlin when I had done that and there was a little devilment in me.

  I heard
the intake of breath from the sergeant and then the major leapt to his feet. He was not a tall man and had to look up at me still. “You impudent wretch. I am an officer and you will address me as such.”

  “Yes sir.” I managed to imbue the words with as much insolence as I could. If this officer wanted to be unpleasant he could do his best but I had served under Black Bill and this little dandy’s rage was nothing to be feared.

  “What is your regiment?”

  “1st Virginia Scouts,” I paused and watched as the colour rose in his face again, “sir.”

  “And where is your camp?”

  “In the saddle… sir.”

  He looked nonplussed, “In the saddle? I don’t understand.”

  “We camp wherever our horses stop and then we move on… sir.” I made it sound as though I was explaining to a child. “It makes it harder for you Yankees to catch us.”

  “That is ridiculous. Where is the rest of your army?”

  “I honestly have no idea. General Stuart didn’t tell us that, sir. He just said go and find me some more Yankees to whip.”

  The name of Stuart made him stop. “You are with Jeb Stuart? He is in this area?”

  I had no idea where the general was but as it upset the major so much I lied. “Oh yes sir. We are with his Cavalry Corps.”

  He was so taken aback that he ignored my lack of a sir at the end of my statement. “The general will need to know of this. Lock this man up and keep him for questioning. We need to know exactly where the enemy is. This is vital information. We may get the jump on this upstart.”

  As we went out the sergeant said, “You like living on the edge don’t you?”

  “You did warn me sergeant but I was still surprised at the arrogant little prick. Tell me has be fought in a battle? Apart from the one to get promoted of course.”

  The sergeant laughed, “I can tell that you have. No the major has been sent from Washington. Now let me find a room with a lock on it.” We went upstairs with the sergeant wheezing and puffing up the narrow stairs. He stopped at a room at the head of the stairs. The door was open and it was obvious that it had been a nursery or children’s room from the toys on the shelves. It had a bolt on the outside. It did not look sturdy and I thought I would be able to break it easily enough.

  “I’ll get you some food and a pot to piss in.” He turned to the sentry. “Stand guard here private.” As the door closed I saw that the private could not be more than eighteen and he looked nervous. That worked to my advantage. If I was going to escape then it would have to be quickly. However I would not be able to force the door with the sentry outside.

  Once the door slammed shut and the bolt was drawn I examined the interior of the room. The windows had been nailed shut and there was no exit there. There was just the one door in. The bed was a small one and there was a tiny desk and chair. The shelves had dolls on them and it must have been a child’s bedroom. I found a wardrobe but it was empty however there was a rail which had been used to hang clothes upon. It was held to the top by a few screws. I gave a tentative tug and it moved. I needed to take it down when there was some external noise to hide the sounds I would have to make. It would, at least, give me a weapon. I examined the walls. I would have loved to tap them but the sentry would become alerted. Then I looked at the ceiling. I could just make out the edge of what looked like a trap door. It had been painted over but it was worth investigating.

  I heard footsteps and the sergeant’s muffled voice speaking to the sentry. I leapt to my feet and, as the bolt was moved wrenched one of the brackets down from the rail then, shutting the wardrobe door I sat on the pathetically small bed. The sergeant had a metal container in one hand and a bowl of something steaming in the other. The sentry held a mug in his hand and the gun in the other. I was fairly certain that I could have escaped then but I didn’t know how many men were on this building and I decided to bide my time.

  The sergeant was out of breath as he spoke. I didn’t think he would be making too many journeys up the stairs. “Here y’are reb. It’s hot at any rate. That’s a mug of coffee. The major will be back in an hour so make the most of this.”

  When they left the bolt was put in place again. I decided to eat the stew and drink the coffee. I didn’t know when I would get the chance again. My time as a Ranger had taught me to eat when I could. I didn’t realise how hungry I had been until I had finished. I went to the wardrobe and found that I could slide the rail out of the other bracket. It was about four feet long and was made of hickory. It was a weapon at any rate. I then gingerly stood on the desk. It wobbled a little but held. I put my fingers up to the trapdoor and found the edge. It looked as though it had been papered over. What I needed was something to cut the paper. If I had had my knives… then I suddenly remembered, Stumpy’s pocket knife was in my boot top. I slipped my hand down and found it. It had been too small to notice when they had searched me. I opened the blade and cut the paper around the outline of the trapdoor. Once I had done that I slid the blade around until I found the hinges. Once I had the hinges located I put the blade at the opposite side and began to lever the door. I had to do this silently and I could feel the sweat begin to pour off me. I hoped that the blade on the knife would not break and then, suddenly the door dropped down, smacking me on the head. I paused and listened but the sentry did not make a sound.

  I climbed off the desk and wiped away the boot marks. I grabbed my piece of hickory and clambered back on to the desk. I thrust the wooden rail into the loft and then hauled myself up. It was a tight fit but I managed to pull myself into the black hole. Once I was in I pulled the trapdoor back into the closed position. I hoped that it would stay closed. It had taken some forcing and I thought that it might. At first it was as black as night but my eyes became accustomed to the dark and I saw chinks of light from spaces between some of the loose tiles in the roof above me. The loft was huge. I stood and saw that there were strong beams on which I could walk. I held my piece of hickory wood in my right hand and walked towards the far end. I thought, at first it was a dead end but then I found a small door with a bolt on the top. I snapped the bolt back and then slowly opened the door. There was another loft and I entered it. I began to look along the floor for another trapdoor. If I could not find one then I had exchanged one prison for another. I suddenly heard a commotion but it was muffled, as though it was in the distance. They had discovered that I had gone. I hoped that they would not find my means of escape but it added urgency to what I had to do. I peered desperately around then saw a chink of light from the floor. I found a trapdoor.

  I lay above the door and listened. I could hear no noise from below. I wondered if the door was the same as the one I had just used. I found the hinges and then slid my blade down the opposite side. This time I was able to push down and the trapdoor swung open. The sudden light almost blinded me. I still heard nothing and, holding my stick I swung myself through the narrow opening and dropped down into an empty store room. I closed the trapdoor again. I needed my enemies confused. There was a window and I raced across the room to it and peered outside. There was an alley running alongside the house. I could see many soldiers racing everywhere. My escape had been definitely been detected. I went to the door but it was locked. When I returned to the window I saw that it was not nailed shut and I tried to open it. I am a strong man but it took some effort and the window groaned alarmingly. I stopped and looked outside. No one was looking up. I pulled the window fully open. I took off my hat and looked along the building. There was a flat roof some twelve feet below me. I could drop down but not for a while. It was late afternoon and I would have to wait until dark. I did not want to be seen. It would be a nerve wracking wait for dusk was still an hour away.

  Gradually the furore outside died a little. I watched the alley below empty until it became totally devoid of anyone. I opened the window and peered into the darkening dusk. My grey uniform helped me to blend into the building. I dropped my stick. It seemed to crack unnaturally loudl
y on to the flat roof and I froze but there was no rush of feet. I climbed out backwards and hung by my fingertips from the windowsill. The roof was a mere four feet below me. I let go and I dropped to the level surface of the flat roof. I made less noise than my stick, which I retrieved, but I still paused to listen for any noises. There were none. The flat roof was narrow and I wondered what was below it. I crawled along to the main street. I took off my hat and peeped around the edge. There were still soldiers in the street. I crawled back and then lowered myself into the alley. I had escaped my cell and I now had two objectives: avoid capture and escape the town. I took off my deer hide jacket and then removed my greatcoat. I rolled the greatcoat so that it resembled a blanket. I donned my jacket and then tied the coat around my back. I stuffed my kepi in my shell jacket. I could now pass amongst ordinary people and not arouse interest but I would need to be wary of soldiers.

  I walked away from the street which had contained the soldiers and emerged at the other end. It was a quieter street. I saw lights at the end and heard the noise of clinking mugs and a hubbub of conversation. It was a tavern. I moved down towards it. It would be a good place to get my bearings and to hide in plain sight. I stood in the doorway of the building next to it. This was a time I wished that I had a pipe. It would have looked less suspicious if I had been smoking a pipe in the doorway but I had none and I waited. I saw four off duty soldiers wander down from the opposite direction. I kept in the shadows and, when they entered, I followed them into the crowded ale house. To any in the tavern I would look like one of the soldiers. No-one wasted a second glance on me as I made my way to the opposite end of the bar. There was a fug of smoke and the lighting was poor. It was hard to make out faces until you were close to them.