Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (73 page)

“But I’d  like to hear, Mother.” Daniel sat firm
with arms crossed, informing her he was not going to budge—and informing
everyone else that not all of his traits had been inherited from his father’s
side.  “Sometimes I’m not sure I believe all of the stories you tell me about
Father.”

“You can believe them,” Pierce said. “All the
better that you hear them from the mouths of those who fought beside him.”

“If you men are going to tell war stories, go
over under the trees,” Charlene interrupted, shooing them away. “I have work to
do.”

* * *

The men, many of them with their sons, remained
huddled in a circle in a grove of trees, talking noisily and laughing loudly.
Some of their voices carried, and Andrea smiled at how affectionately they
spoke of Alex as they fondly recalled scenes of the past.

“They were firing on us hot and heavy,” she
heard one say, “and we were both dismounted watching the action, when he turns
to me and says in his low voice, ‘Harris it’s getting a little warm up here.
Move over to the other side of your horse in case a bullet comes this way.”

“I thought he was joking and told him, ‘but
Kulnel, that’s the direction the bullets is coming from.’ And he says with a
completely straight face, ‘I’m well aware of that, Harris, but good horses are
a lot more scarce in Virginia right now than good men.’”

Hoots of laughter swelled among the group
causing other men to drift toward the gathering.

“Hey, Hanson, you remember that fight with the
5th New York, don’t you?” Pierce said. “I think it was you that went and told
the Colonel to move to the back.”

“Yea, that was me,” Hanson said, his face
turning red. “I told him to move to the back, ’cause they were shooting at him.
And he looked at me with those deadly gray eyes and said, ‘Thank you for
bringing that to my attention, sir, but they’ve been doing that for about three
years now.’”

The group howled and laughed, each picturing
Colonel Hunter sitting aloofly on Dixie while bullets whizzed by his head,
calmly giving orders and meting out advice.

“Gus, you remember that time you rode in and
told the Colonel there was an entire brigade coming our way?” Gus nodded and
laughed. “And the Colonel said, ‘Good.’” At that point all of the men who were
gathered around joined in, repeating the words that Hunter had spoken that day.
“The more that are looking for us, the less that are fighting!”

The men laughed, but they now knew how right he
had been. Who could tell how many lives he had saved? Literally tens of
thousands of Union soldiers had been kept guarding supply lines, railroads and
outposts, that if not for Hunter, would have been in active service in the
front.

“What I can’t believe is how the Kulnel always
kept where we were going a secret,” Hanson said. “And how we all followed him
when we didn’t know where the hell we were even going.”

“Yea, well, I almost got him to tell me once,” a
man named Riley said, his chest puffed out with pride.

Everyone looked over at him with questioning
eyes. “It was winter sixty-four, I think, freezing cold, sleeting, boot-sucking
muddy—”

“Ah, the Kulnel’s favorite weather,” someone
said, and everyone laughed.

“Anyhow, I rode up and said, ‘So Kulnel whar we
headin’?’ Well, he pulls his haws to a complete stop, leans over, puts his hand
on my shouldah and says in his deep voice, ‘Riley, can you keep a secret?’ And
of course I says, ‘Yes suh!’ And he says, ‘So can I. Don’t ever ask me that
again!’”

The group roared with laughter, making the old
woods ring.

* * *

Andrea was in high spirits when Pierce took her
arm to escort her to the program later, while Charlene stayed behind to care
for the younger children. She found herself seated beside Carter in the front
row, with Daniel beside her and Ellie and Pierce settling in to his left.

When all had gathered, Carter walked up onto the
stage to offer an official greeting to his friends and their families.

“Comrades, welcome!” he began, smiling broadly
as he gazed out over the crowd. “It is such a privilege to stand before you all
once again as we gather to renew old acquaintances and pay tribute to those
whose lives were sacrificed in the great struggle.” His smile suddenly faded,
and his voice grew deep with emotion. “Today, as most of you know, is a day of
special significance in its sad and sacred memories. Though time in its rapid
flight has borne us on until we are fifteen years from that fateful hour, it is
yet hard to gather together and not think of the vacancy left in our ranks when
our comrade and commander yielded up his great, knightly soul for his country’s
honor.”

Andrea gazed up at Carter, beginning to figure
out his motives for making her attend.

“I need remind no one here of his magnetic
influence as a leader of men. Whether leading a charge or standing as a mark
for their shot and shell, one could not help but admire his gallant and
virtuous conduct on and off the field of battle. He showed the enemy what a
soldier should be. And he showed us all what a man should be.”

When Carter paused, the awed hush of a common
sorrow was deafening. Andrea reached for her son’s hand to steady the shaking
of her own.

“And now, his name, his fame, his lauded
accomplishments shall remain as an honored legacy to all those who had the
great honor of knowing him—and to those gathered here, who had the greater
privilege of serving under him. Although we need no monument to let his memory
live forever, we felt it our duty to share with future generations the
embodiment of all that is noble and pure and honorable in a man. It is
therefore with great pleasure that I unveil to you this day, a tribute in
imperishable stone that will stand for all time as an enduring testament to the
devotion, the valor and virtue of a legend.”

With Carter’s final words a curtain fell, and
the audience gasped in unison, and then roared with thunderous applause. Andrea
sat mesmerized, staring in wondrous admiration at the sight of a daunting
life-sized statue of her husband rising in mythical splendor from the soil of the
green meadow. Her gaze roamed the manly figure seated firmly and gracefully on
a rearing stone steed. It was just as she wished to remember him—reins taunt,
Colt drawn, staring out over the horizon in the very direction of the
battlefields where he had fought.

Andrea never blinked as she took in every detail
of the statue that reflected in meticulous detail her husband’s strength and
grace. The coat he wore floated behind him as if from the fury of a great
storm. His strong, powerful hand held firmly the reins, while his spurs were
turned distinctly into his horse of stone. Her eyes drifted up to his face,
chillingly and accurately portrayed. His jaw was set determinedly and his
unforgettable eyes appeared to be literally blazing—as if gazing fearlessly into
the eyes of Death. It was him: rugged, stalwart, impregnable as a mountain. She
could not help but tremble in its presence, so true was the likeness to that
which was once flesh and bone.

When the applause died down, Carter cleared his
throat again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have the additional honor and surprise
today to be blessed with the attendance of Colonel Hunter’s widow, whose
presence here proves with certainty that Southern and Northern hearts are
indeed forever linked in a common destiny.”

A solemn hush pervaded the sunny field, followed
by a round of sparse and intermittent applause, as well as a few hushed
whispers of utter dismay that a Yankee would be singled out among the crowd on
this somber and glorious day.

“And I am hoping she would be kind enough to say
a few words.”

Andrea looked up at him in horror and shook her
head, but Carter stepped down and took her hand, giving her no choice but to
follow. Stumbling blindly to the podium, she feared to gaze again at the image
of the godlike spirit behind her, yet dreaded even more to gaze out at the
blank, staring, scrutinizing faces of the crowd.

When Carter left her side, Andrea stared down at
the podium and then at the sky and then at her toes. “Good afternoon,” she
finally said. “This is quite … quite a surprise … and overwhelming.”

She cleared her throat. “I scarcely know what to
say, but I am deeply humbled by your resolve to pay tribute to the virtue and
patriotism of my husband… my late husband.” Andrea’s eyes rose and fell on
Carter who just smiled and nodded encouragement, and then on Pierce who simply
winked. She took another deep breath, lifted her head, and began.

“As you can well imagine, I am more than a
little apprehensive about standing before you today, for as most of you are aware,
my heart, spirit and loyalty resided with the Union.”

Andrea spoke the words with sentiment and
passion, her head held high, her resolute and rebellious eyes scanning the
crowd, not wavering from anyone who dared to meet them.

“On the other hand,” she continued, “perhaps no
one can have greater admiration for the brave soldiers of the Confederacy than
those who opposed them and learned firsthand of their chivalrous conduct.” She
paused for a moment and took a deep breath to calm her nerves, yet her stature
denoted nothing but grace and poise and elegance. “I’m sure Colonel Hunter
would be very proud of this tribute,” she said, turning around and glancing
briefly at the monument, “and I know you must all feel, as I do, his presence
with us here today.” At that moment a slight breeze stirred Andrea’s hair, and
her cheeks turned rosy with emotion. With straight back and shoulders square,
she gazed into the distance as if receiving divine strength from that which no
one could see.

“It has been a pleasure for me to mingle today
with the remnants of this proud and gallant Command,” she began, her voice
shaking ever so slightly, “to stand beside those who preferred death to
dishonor, and showed the world how they valued the rights and liberties of
their land. And though your Cause was not my own,” her eyes fell briefly on
Pierce, “I can stand here today with unsurpassed admiration in the memory of
your deeds.”

A hush spread over the field as the audience
held onto her every word, and all that could be heard was the gentle flapping
of the Southern Cross as it fluttered in the breeze over Andrea’s head. “I
believe the Colonel would be overwhelmed, and perhaps not a little dismayed, to
be singled out with this honor, especially when gathered here today are the brave
members of his Command, without whom he could never have achieved his revered
reputation.”

She looked out over the crowd again, picking out
faces of men she knew, and remembering with brilliant clarity scenes of days
long past. Before her were men whom she had once feared and despised—and whom
she had grown to admire and respect. Many had more gray hairs, longer beards,
and slower movements than when she had last seen them, but from their eyes she
drew assurance and felt renewed strength and courage.

“Despite my allegiance, I do not hesitate to
laud your heroic devotion to your state and principles, as today we cast our
eyes back to your noble and daring achievements. For I know that you fought and
defended your homes, not in the spirit of anger or of hate, but in fulfillment
of duty and a conviction for honor.” She paused. “As did I.”

She lifted her eyes and stared out into the
audience again, biting her cheek, and clasping her hands together to keep them
from shaking. Her gaze fell on her son, and then on the young girl beside him,
and she gained even more resolve. “When I look out over this field, I see the
faces of the men who witnessed the Colonel’s knightly valor, not from afar—as
many who adored him did—but beside him. You were there at all times with him,
without complaint and without hope of reward, undaunted and fearless in your
deeds of unprecedented and noble daring, obeying his every command in the heat
and hell of battle, even when asked to follow him, countless times, into the
very jaws of death. It was therefore through your devotion, your loyalty and
your willingness to sacrifice all and brave all that he was able to accomplish
the successes and the victories for which he is so well known and remembered.”

The audience remained silent, though it now
seemed more out of deference to her words than a deliberate act to not
acknowledge who was speaking them. She spoke with such dignity and bearing and
solemnity, that they were held captive.

“Today, as you cast your eyes on the sacred
emblem of the Confederacy, on the flag around which you rallied and beneath
which brave comrades breathed their last, you can stand tall in the knowledge
that your valor, your gallantry, your dauntless spirits have won for the South
a glory that the wealth of the world could not purchase in all the tide of
time.”

Here Andrea paused, though had she wanted to she
could not have continued. The hills suddenly trembled with a long, loud,
rolling yell of unearthly proportions. The aging warriors were apparently
unable to suppress their patriotic devotion any longer. Each, it appeared, was
attempting to out-yell the other, or else they were desirous for their shouts
to reach those in the heavens who had died too early to witness her devotional
words.

She waited for the Rebel yell to subside, and
then, scanning the rolling hills in the distance, began again. “To you, the
legions that served him, allow me to commend you once more on your brilliant
feats and victories, which I can assure you, excited the admiration, aroused
the envy, and stirred the patriotic blood of all who had the opportunity to
witness them. Even your enemies.”

The many bedewed eyes in the audience reflected
the deep feelings being spawned by her words. Never in all the reunions past
had a speaker been more intimately involved with the Command, nor more
appropriately captured its spirit or the depth of its sacrifice or devotion.
Many of the men sat in deference with uncovered heads in respectful silence as
they listened with rapt attention.