The Last Confederate (31 page)

Read The Last Confederate Online

Authors: Gilbert Morris

BOOK: The Last Confederate
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He passed into a smaller room, perhaps fifteen by twenty, with a long table at one end. Seated at it were five officers, none of whom he knew. On the left was a small table, where a corporal sat with his writing materials in front of him. Across from him another table, somewhat larger, was turned to face the court. It was occupied by a fat captain. Thad understood at once that he was the officer who would try to convict him. Halfway down the room he saw Captain Duke standing beside another table with two chairs behind it. Then the lieutenant said, “Take that chair,” indicating the one beside Duke.

As Thad walked across the room, three of the four guards
left; the other took up his station in front of the door, with the lieutenant on his right.

The officer in the center of the long table was a thick-set colonel with direct black eyes. He spoke in a brisk, businesslike manner: “Private Thaddeus Novak, you have been brought to this place of court-martial to be tried on the charges of desertion and treason. I am Colonel L. C. Andrews. From left to right, the members of the court are Colonel Anderson Briggs, Major Jason Stillwell, Captain Otis Clark, and Major Donald McClain.”

As the colonel went on to describe the procedures of the court, Thad studied each man. Briggs was an older man, in his late sixties. He stared across the room with obvious hostility. Major Stillwell, on the other hand, was extremely young, not over twenty-five, and he had a pink youthful face. He was examining Thad in a curious manner, but did not seem to be hostile. The captain to the judge’s left, Otis Clark, was a hard-faced man of thirty. He was staring down at the table, apparently ignoring the proceedings. Major McClain was, Thad judged, in his early fifties. He had an ugly scar on his left cheek that drew his mouth up into a leer, so that it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“That’s the enemy, Novak,” Duke whispered to Thad, pointing to the captain seated at the small table facing the court. “Captain Aaron Abraham—a real hot lawyer.”

Thad felt fear rising up in his chest as he stared at the man. Abraham was overweight, spilling out of his uniform like a ruptured sausage, but there was none of the jolly air of a fat man about him. He had a pair of inky eyes and a mouth like a shark.

“This court will presume the accused is innocent until proven guilty,” Colonel Andrews stated. “You gentlemen both understand that?” He paused and stared at the prosecutor. “It is not up to Private Novak to prove his innocence. If you cannot prove that he is guilty, this court will set him free.”

Abraham gave a nod, smiled toothily at the court, and
said in a powerful bass voice, “Yes, sir. I understand that very well.”

“Then call your first witness.”

Abraham said, “I call Major Shelby Lee.”

At the command of the court, the lieutenant beside the door left, and came back shortly with Major Lee behind him.

“Would you take that chair, Major Lee?” the judge requested. “Swear him in, Lieutenant.” After this ceremony, Colonel Andrews said, “You may examine the witness.”

Abraham did not rise from his chair, and his voice was gentle as he began. “Major Lee, I will ask you a few questions about the action that took place at Malvern Hill on the day of July first of this year.”

Lee carried the magnetism of the family, and the court listened with respect as he related the action of that day. Even Captain Clark raised his eyes as the major related the step-by-step account. He came to the charge up the hill by the Third Virginia, and Abraham interrupted gently, “Ah—Major Lee, I believe you observed the attack by the Union cavalry that took place just before the charge. Could you describe that—and if you can, give us your views of how such an attack could have caught your men off guard.”

“Objection.” Harry Duke stood to his feet and said tolerantly, “Captain Abraham is too fine a counsel to expect the court to admit such ‘opinions’ as evidence. It is my belief that Thad Novak is innocent, but if I were to state my opinion, I feel certain that Captain Abraham would object—just as I am doing now.”

“Objection sustained. Captain Abraham, you will rephrase the question.”

“I stand rebuked by my worthy opponent,” Abraham nodded, and turned again to his witness. “Major Lee, I will ask you, not for an opinion, but for a fact—did you see the defendant, Thad Novak, at the head of the Union cavalry that attacked the Third Virginia on the day of July first?”

Lee hesitated, then answered, “Yes, I did.”

“No more questions,” Abraham stated. “Your witness, sir.”

Duke stood to his feet and asked almost idly, “How far down the line were you from the point where the cavalry hit the line, Major Lee?”

“About two hundred yards.”

“And had our men started firing when you first saw the cavalry?”

“Yes.”

“Was the Confederate you saw wearing a hat?”

“Yes, he was.”

“Describe it, if you would.”

Major Lee frowned as he thought. “Well, it was a black hat with a large brim. Most of our men wear hats like that.”

Duke had been asking the questions in a manner that seemed almost boring, but now he straightened up and said in a voice that rasped across the ears of everyone in the room: “So what you are saying, Major, is that at the distance of two hundred yards, with the air filled with smoke, you recognized,
without any chance of error,
a man with a hat pulled down over his face, who was riding at right angles to you at a dead run—is that what you are saying?”

Lee hesitated, and Duke demanded, “You are telling this court that you have no doubt at all that Thad Novak was that man. I suggest, Major Lee, that you
do
have some doubt. I ask you to tell this court on your honor as an officer and a gentleman that you have
absolutely no doubt whatsoever
that the man you saw was the defendant!”

For once in his life, Shelby Lee was caught without his air of total assurance. He flushed, and replied, “Well, I cannot say that—but . . .”

“I have no further questions for this witness,” Duke stated brusquely. “He has disqualified himself.”

Abraham half rose and said smoothly, “I concede the point. Thank you, Major Lee.” As the officer left the room, with a rather thankful look, Thad thought, Abraham said with a
shark-like grin at Duke, “Thank you, Captain Duke, for your astute perception. Call Lieutenant Beauregard Beauchamp.”

Thad’s heart beat faster as Beauchamp came in. Duke whispered, “Blast it! I wish I could have gotten Abraham to argue about Lee’s testimony—but he’s too sharp for that!”

After Beauchamp was sworn in, Abraham asked him for the same testimony of the Malvern Hill battle, and when he got to the cavalry charge, the prosecutor interrupted Beauchamp. “Lieutenant, is the Confederate soldier you saw riding with the Federals in this courtroom?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Point him out—and name him, if you will.”

Beauchamp lifted his head to look across the room at Thad, then said steadily, “Thad Novak was the man I saw.”

Abraham paused, waiting for Duke to object, and when he did not, the fat lawyer raised his voice a trifle, adding, “How far away was the defendant from you?”

“Not more than fifty feet.”

“But the defendant had on a hat that was partly over his eyes—and there was some gunsmoke in the air. Can you swear that there is absolutely no possibility of an error? Could it not have been a man who
looked
like Thaddeus Novak?”

Beauchamp shifted in his chair, but shook his head solidly. “The man I saw was Thad Novak.”

“No further questions. Your witness, Captain.”

Harry Duke rose to his feet, came to stand directly before Beauchamp, and when he spoke his voice cracked like a whip, and his eyes were piercing, not sleepy. “You have known the defendant how long, Lieutenant?”

“He’s been in my command—”

“I didn’t ask you how long he’s been in your command,” Duke rapped out. “Will the court instruct this witness to answer the questions as they are asked?”

Colonel Andrews looked up with a startled expression, for Duke’s attack on the witness was unexpected. He said
mildly, “The witness is so instructed—but I will instruct
you,
Captain Duke, not to bully a witness.”

Duke stared at the judge, seemed to weigh the matter, then turned back to Beauchamp. “You were present at a New Year’s Eve party at the home of Mr. Sky Winslow on January 1, 1861, were you not?”

“Why, I—I think I was.”

“Would you like me to bring in witnesses who will swear that you were at that party? I will be glad to do so.”

Beauchamp’s brow began to show a fine line of perspiration, and he said, “That—won’t be necessary. I was at that party.”

“Oh, so you
do
remember it, Lieutenant? I’m glad that you can remember a few things!”

“Objection!” Abraham shouted. “He is badgering the witness.”

“I will sustain that objection,” Andrews said, then gave a direct look at the unkempt figure of the defender. “You will show more restraint in your remarks, sir. I will not warn you again.”

“Yes, Colonel,” Duke responded. Turning to the witness, he presented another question. “Lieutenant, on that occasion, you were humiliated by Thad Novak in a shooting contest, were you not?”

“Objection!” Abraham was on his feet, the suave manner now gone. He snarled, “Such a thing has no bearing on this case.”

“How do
you
know, Captain?” Duke shot back. “You don’t even know
why
I’m asking the question! How can you possibly know if it’s relevant?”

“I know you’ll do anything short of murder to win a case!” Abraham raged. “I’ve seen your scurvy—!”

“Gentlemen!”

Colonel Andrews’ voice rose above the shouts of the two lawyers, and when they calmed down, he warned, “I may as well establish one thing right now—this court is not interested
in the antics of two fancy big city lawyers. You can save that for the civil courts. This is a military court, and we are interested in one thing: Did the defendant commit treason? We will arrive at that decision when we have the facts. I will expel either or both of you if you persist in making a circus out of this court-martial. Do you understand me?”

Abraham nodded “Yes, Colonel!” and dropped into his chair.

Harry Duke made a sorry figure as he stood there in his wrinkled uniform, but there was something indomitable in his pale face. He said quietly, “Colonel, I suggest that you order me out of this court right now.”

A shock swept through the room, and Thad saw that every officer was staring at Duke. There was something audacious in his words, and they were all caught with his determined air.

“Why do you say that, Captain?” Andrews asked with a look on his face that was half anger and half curiosity.

“Because I do not intend to defend my client with half measures,” Duke responded in a ringing voice. He lifted his hand in a fierce gesture and cried out, “You call my actions ‘antics,’ sir. That is your privilege. I think, however, that you would not look with favor on any officer under you who failed to fight with every means at his command—and I suggest that if another officer ventured to call such fighting ‘antics,’ you would be offended. I will defend my client with every means at my command. That is my duty as a defender—just as it is the duty of a soldier to fight with whatever weapons he can lay his hands on—a sledge hammer if there is nothing else.”

Thad had been watching the faces of the officers, and saw that they were evenly divided over Duke’s blunt words. Colonel Briggs and Otis Clark showed anger in their eyes, but the other two, Major Stillwell and Major McClain, were almost smiling.

Finally Colonel Andrews, after staring at the brazen defender for a long moment, nodded, and Thad thought he could see just a glint of admiration in the colonel’s black eyes.

“You are to be commended for your zeal, Captain—this time. But I will not be bullied, any more than I will allow the witnesses to be bullied. The objection is denied. Continue with your examination of Lieutenant Beauchamp.”

Duke nodded, then proceeded to lay bare the circumstances of the shooting match. Beau had long been ashamed of that incident, and the longer the questioning went on, the worse he looked to the court. He could not avoid Duke’s probing, and admitted that he had formed a bad opinion of Novak. Perspiration ran down his cheeks, and his hands trembled with anger and humiliation as he was forced to admit that he had spoken against Novak time after time, trying to make Mark Winslow get rid of him.

Abraham longed to get rid of the witness, for he was wise enough to recognize that Beauchamp’s testimony was worthless, but it was out of Abraham’s hands. He sat there sullenly as time ran on, and was totally out of patience by the time Duke concluded, “I don’t believe I have any more questions. The court can judge the value of Lieutenant Beauchamp’s testimony.”

Beau stumbled from the room, his face pale, and did not even stop in the outer room, but left at once, relieved to get outside.

Lieutenant Mark Winslow was the next witness called by the prosecution, but he was of no help to Abraham. “I was beside Major Lee when the attack came, and I saw the cavalrymen come riding up from the flank.”

“Could you identify the Confederate with them?” the prosecutor demanded. “Was it Thaddeus Novak?”

Mark gave an agonizing glance at Thad, then said, “Yes, it was.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Your witness.”

Duke asked, without getting up, “You were with Major Lee when the attack came, I believe?”

“Yes, I was. He was giving me some final orders before the charge.”

“Major Lee refused to identify the defendant. He said the distance was too far, the smoke was too thick, and the hat was over the rider’s face.”

“Objection! Objection!” Captain Abraham’s face was purple, and he shouted, “He is putting words in the mouth of the witness, Judge!”

“Objection sustained!” Andrews snapped. “You know better than to pull such a stunt, Captain Duke! This is one of those ‘antics’ I mentioned, and I am strongly tempted to put you out of this courtroom!”

His anger was real, and Thad was terrified. He expected Duke to challenge him, but instead the lawyer dropped his head. He stood there looking crushed, and his voice was husky as he lifted his eyes to the judge and said, “Colonel, I should not blame you. I can only apologize to the court and ask for your leniency. I was quite wrong.”

Other books

Las tres heridas by Paloma Sánchez-Garnica
Hunting Kat by P.J. Schnyder
Island for Dreams by Katrina Britt
Mrs. Hemingway by Naomi Wood
Surrender by Lee Nichols
For the Taking by Lilian Darcy
The Dark Lady by Louis Auchincloss, Thomas Auchincloss
Galore by Michael Crummey
Sorcha's Wolf by Billi Jean