The Last Confederate (24 page)

Thad stuck out his hand blindly, but it was ignored. Toby wrapped his mighty arms around Thad and lifted him clear from the ground, crying over and over from the depths of his heart, “Thank yuh! Thank yuh!”

Thad had never felt so weak and helpless. The adulation staggered him and he spoke in a shaky voice, trying to cover his emotions. “Well, shoot! You don’t have to kill a fellow, do you?” And when Toby let him go and stepped back, Thad cleared his throat, saying hoarsely, “If you all are through with your carryin’ on, I sure would like to have something to eat! Been thinkin’ about your fried chicken ever since I left, Jessie.”

He and Pet were guests of honor that night—the guests of slaves. Everyone insisted that the two try something from every cabin, and by the time it was over, Thad groaned, “If this don’t kill me, reckon the Yankees have no chance at all!” He stood up and Pet followed. “Toby, I’ll see you at dawn. Like to see what you’ve been doing since I left.”

“You’ll see, sho’ nuff!” Toby nodded.

As the two left the quarters, Pet said, “You made them so happy, Thad! They love you more than anyone else in the world—all of them do, not just Toby and Jessie.”

He could not answer, for he was happier than he had ever been. Finally he spoke, his voice choked, “If I don’t make it, Pet—I mean, if I get killed—you’ll look out for Toby and
Jessie, won’t you?” He waited but she didn’t answer. When he looked up he saw that she had turned her face away. Surprised, he stopped. They were standing beside the huge hedge that was filled with honeysuckle, the fragrance sweet in the warm air.

He hesitated uncertainly, then asked, “Is anything wrong, Pet?”

She whirled and buried her face in his chest and began sobbing as if her heart would break. Not knowing what else to do, he put his arms around her and just held her. When the long, racking sobs began to cease, he asked again, “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

She did not move out of the circle of his arms, but looked up, the tears in her large eyes glistening like diamonds. Her full young lips trembled as she whispered, “I’m so
proud
of you, Thad! So very
proud!
” A shudder swept through her firm body so close to his. “I’m afraid for you . . . if anything happened to you, Thad—!”

She didn’t finish, for when she turned her face up to him, he was captivated by her youth. He bent down and kissed her. It was a kiss of innocence—he had never kissed anyone, nor had she. Both were caught by surprise, and his hands trembled. Then she drew back and whispered, “Don’t talk anymore about getting killed, Thad!”

He stepped away, flustered. “I—I didn’t mean to do that.”

She smiled and said softly, “It wasn’t only you, Thad—it takes two to kiss.” She took his arm and they continued toward the house. When they reached the steps, Pet suggested, “Let’s sit on the porch awhile.”

He sat beside her, and she asked, “How long can you stay?”

“Till tomorrow.”

They talked for hours, getting up several times to walk around the house. Finally Thad said goodnight and went to his room. He was glad Franklin was not there. He lay down on his bunk fully dressed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the future held. Pet’s kiss had shaken—and
saddened—him, for he knew that nothing could ever come of it. The barriers between the aristocracy and the poor whites were too solid. Eventually he fell asleep and dreamed of a time when there was no war and no slaves.

The next morning Thad went over the plantation with Toby, who was proud of his work. Little was said about the overseer, and Thad accurately guessed that Franklin left most of the work to Toby. Soon it was time to say goodbye, and Toby smiled. “I ain’t gonna blubber all ovah you agin’, Thad—but jes’ once let me tell you I ain’t nevah gonna fo’git what you done fo’ Jessie and Wash and me! Now you be keerful in dis heah war, and don’ let them Yankees do you no hurt, heah me?”

“Do my best to oblige,” Thad promised, and the two shook hands. “Next thing is to buy Jessie and Wash, Toby.”

At noon Dooley rode in on Blackie, and the two men loaded the wagon with an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. When they finished and were ready to leave, Pet got in between them, saying, “You’re not leaving me here. I wouldn’t trust the two of you with all these goodies.” Then she turned to study Dooley’s face, which was a fascinating collection of purple bruises and assorted cuts and scratches. “I see you weren’t the only one who was interested in Julie,” she remarked sweetly. “Did you win?”

“Does a cat have climbing gear?” he demanded. “It was Buck Hollins that was tryin’ to beat my time,” he confided to them, “But I educated him.”

“Looks like he objected some,” Thad grinned.

“Oh, it wasn’t nothin’ special as fights go,” Dooley shrugged. “He was sittin’ in Julie’s front room, and when I walked in he didn’t say nothin’, jest whupped out his pistol and snapped the hammer down on an empty chamber.

“I said, ‘I don’t want no trouble,’ but all he done was pull the hammer down on another empty chamber. By that time I was gittin’ kinda nervous, so I yanked out my knife and sliced him acrost the top of his stomach. Then he pulled down on
me agin, but he missed, so I picked up a chair and parted his hair with it—and that’s when the trouble started.”

As they laughed, Dooley glared at them and said gloomily, “It taught me never to let no man get the edge on me again.”

“What about Julie?” Pet asked curiously.

“Oh, she sided with Buck. I reckon he’s been makin’ time while I been gone—but that’s all right. She’s got three sisters that’s jest as good-lookin’; an’ so long as they hold out, I’m all right.” His face crinkled in a sly grin and he added, “The youngest one is named Sue. She’s the one who patched me up. Always did long to have a gal named Sue!”

He kept them laughing all the way to Richmond. But when they arrived they saw instantly that something was up. They pulled into the supply depot and looked around, startled. Men were running and officers were frantically driving squads. Dooley spotted Sergeant Henry and yelled, “Sarge! What’s goin’ on?”

“Order to advance down the Peninsula, Dooley,” Henry answered. “McClellan has made his move—and we’re on our way to stop ‘im! Get that stuff into our wagons!”

Thad and Dooley drove to where one of the army wagons was waiting, and jumped down. They had plenty of help, and as soon as the produce was transferred, Thad hopped in beside Pet, saying, “I’ll take you to your father’s house.”

He drove at a rapid pace, then got out and helped her down. “Have to leave you here, Pet.” He reached out and touched her hair softly. “I—I’ll think of you.”

He whirled and drove down the street. She waved, but he didn’t see her, and she turned and went slowly into the house, her heart heavy with fear. When her mother asked what had happened, she said, “They’ve gone to fight the Yankees, Mama—and I’m afraid for them.”

There was such sorrow mirrored in Pet’s eyes that Rebekah wanted to say something comforting, but she couldn’t. Her own spirit was heavy. She reached out and took the girl in her arms and held her tight.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TRIAL BY COMBAT

The first battle of the Peninsula Campaign took place at Williamsburg on May 3, 1862, and the Third Virginia arrived just in time for the shooting. They had come at a rapid pace from Richmond, and on the night of May 2 were led into the line of battle by Colonel Seth Barton. Later that night, Major Shelby Lee spoke to Lieutenant Wickham and his officers, giving them the battle plan.

When the meeting was over and most of the troops were asleep, Mark stopped to see his brother Tom, as was his custom. Dooley and Thad were also huddled around the small fire. Mark sat down nearby and announced, “We’ll be having company first thing in the morning, I reckon.”

“Mr. McClellan is coming for breakfast?” Tom grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness.

“I guess we’re his breakfast,” Mark countered.

“Has he got the hull Yank army with him, Lieutenant?” Dooley asked. “I ain’t never rightly asked how he got all them bluebellies this far from Washington.”

Mark took a bite of the beef from the spit over the fire, chewed it thoughtfully, then gave a little lecture—as if to get the whole picture in his own mind. He made quite an impression on Thad, who admired the way the lieutenant was able to express himself.

“McClellan’s built up the Army of the Potomac—that’s what he’s good at, they say. Our spies tell us that he’s bringing five corps to take Richmond. They loaded 400 boats at
the Potomac docks—more than 100,000 men, and 14,500 animals, they say—not to mention 350 guns. Well, they landed at Fort Monroe on the second of April, and moved out. It was Magruder that stopped ’em at Yorktown.”

“Old General John B. Magruder?” Tom asked.

“Yes. Magruder had only 13,000 men, but he held back McClellan’s whole army for a month. He marched his troops back and forth to make them seem like more, and set up logs as fake artillery—Quaker Cannons, he called them.”

“This here General McClellan,” Dooley put in; “sounds like he’s a mite overcautious.”

“Lincoln said the man’s got a case of the slows,” Mark smiled. “Anyway, McClellan was fooled, and when he
did
move, Magruder evacuated Yorktown and pulled back here. He yielded his command to General Joe Johnston.” Mark thought about the host of soldiers in blue that waited for the dawn, then stood up and said, “It’ll be lively, but we’ve got to slow ’em down. You fellows take care of each other.”

After Mark left, Tom rolled into his blankets and left Dooley and Thad to stare into the darkness. Finally Dooley yawned and said, “Guess I’ll catch some sleep.”

For a long time Thad sat beside the fire, thinking of the precarious future—of what the dawn would bring. He got up and walked toward the outer limits of the camp. As he reached the edge, he was startled by a voice warning, “Better be careful, soldier.”

He wheeled and whispered hoarsely, “Who’s there?”

A tall man with a blanket over his shoulders stepped out of the darkness. “Just a poor old Baptist preacher, son—Chaplain Boone.”

Thad had seen the chaplain several times, and had gone to the services twice. “You’re up late, sir,” he commented.

“Can’t ever sleep when something big’s coming up in the morning. What’s your name, soldier?”

“Thad Novak, Reverend.” Thad hesitated, then added, “I
went to a meeting once where you were preaching. Over at Shady Grove just west of Belle Maison.”

“Oh, yes,” Boone nodded. “We had a good meeting there. God moved mightily! Are you a Christian, Thad?”

“Well, not rightly, sir.”

“It might be well to think of it at this time,” Boone suggested.

Thad felt uncomfortable. “Yes, sir, I guess you’re right.” Then he asked, “Reverend, I—I’ve never killed a man before—and it looks like I may have to in the morning. I guess I’m more afraid of that than I am of being killed myself.” He thought long and the minister waited patiently, for Boone had heard this fear expressed many times. “How can I do it, sir? I don’t hate those men over there.”

Chaplain Boone shook his head, and there was a deep note of regret in his voice as he spoke. “There are thousands of boys on our side, and thousands on the other—all asking that question, Thad. And I can’t help you much. You see, we’re living in a world that’s gone awry—it’s not the kind of world God intended. What He purposed was a paradise where all people would live in perfect peace. But something went wrong. Adam sinned, and we all trace our family back to him. The Bible says that the whole
world
fell, and that someday we’ll see a new heaven and a new earth—a world without sickness and wars. But until that happens, we have to do what we can to find God.”

“Some of the men in my company are Christians, and they’ve killed the enemy—but they believe in the Confederacy.”

“And you don’t?”

For a moment Thad struggled. Pretty soon he found himself telling the chaplain how he had come to Belle Maison, and how he’d gotten into the army. He ended by saying, “So I’m in the army, but I think slavery is wrong. How can I fight for something I think is wrong?”

“You have sworn an oath, Thad,” Chaplain Boone replied
quietly. “That’s one reason for doing your duty. And you have comrades who are depending on you; that’s another. Your oath and your comrades—are they important to you?”

“Why
sure
they are!”

“Then until you know God, I’d say that you have no other recourse than to do your duty. It’s a grim duty, and it will no doubt involve shooting at the enemy.” He felt a keen pity for the young man and said, “I pray that God will keep you safe, Thad. And I pray that as He does, you will open your heart to His grace. Goodnight, my boy—and God be with you.”

He faded back into the darkness, and Thad stood there silently, thinking of the man’s words. It was too much. He sighed and went to roll up in his blanket, dreading the morning.

Well before daylight he was awakened by the sound of other men stirring, and Dooley poked him. “Git up, Thad. We’re movin’ to the line.”

He sprang up, and soon the company had marched until they heard the first crackle of rifle fire. It did something to Thad’s whole body; the crackle sounded so much like a bunch of firecrackers going off in the distance. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he began to perspire.

“We’re in for it now!” Lafe Sharp groaned. “Oh, Lord, we’re in for it now!”

“Close up! Close up those ranks!” The sergeants all ranged back and forth like hunting dogs, and once Shelby Lee rode down the line on a beautiful brown horse, shouting, “The line is breaking up there. Go in and support them.”

“Load muskets!” At the call, the men all stopped and loaded their pieces. From the right Captain Wickham approached them, a fixed grin on his face. He cried out, “Well, boys, let’s show the Yankees what Virginia men can do. Keep low and don’t break rank.”

They passed over some little fields in an oak forest. Suddenly Thad froze. Spread over grass and in among the tree
trunks, he could see knots and waving lines of bluebellies who were firing as they ran.