A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (22 page)

“I would appreciate that very much, sir,” said James.

“Splendid. I will see what I can do. I think you would be a real asset. I'll have my orderly find a spot for you in the guards' barracks. Maybe the next few days here can be passed more pleasantly than it's been to this point.”

“I appreciate all that you're doing, Colonel. I will try to repay your kindness with more than adequate service.” James assumed the position of attention, saluted Colonel Mulligan, but the colonel extended his hand and said, “I will let you know the minute I receive some information from your references and from the War Department.”

With that, he was taken to the guards' barracks, afforded the opportunity to take a long, hot bath, given clean clothing, and favored with a decent meal.

Two days later he was called into Colonel Mulligan's office again. James could tell from the colonel's lively mood that his telegrams had garnered the desired replies.

“I now have the privilege of addressing you as Lieutenant James Langdon,” he said. “Everything is in order for your furlough as well. One more thing, Lieutenant; I am sure that you would prefer to be assigned to a Cavalry Corp in the east and not here in the west.”

“Yes, sir, that would be my preference.”

“Understandable. For that reason, when your furlough is over, you will need to report to the War Department in Washington for your assignment. However, I will send you into Chicago to the quartermaster for your uniform and weapon issue. They will also fit you out with a mount. Then you may leave for home. The very best of luck to you.” This time the colonel returned James's salute; an hour later he was on his way to Chicago.

 

After the trip to the quartermaster, James was adequately supplied with a complete issue of everything needed for his position and rank. Finally, he was directed to the corral behind the warehouse to pick a mount. It was not until that moment that he truly felt the stinging loss of his beautiful horse, Star. He wondered where she might be. Nothing in the corral could compare with Star, but he settled for a coal black gelding that was only about two years old. His second disappointment was with the stiffness of the military saddle after having had the pleasure of the custom saddle he'd received on his eighteenth birthday.

Once he was packed and ready to leave, however, all disappointments were gone and forgotten; pushed from his mind by the thought of heading to Mapletown to see Polly. His only concern was the uncertainty of how she would react to his joining the army. For that reason, he packed his uniform inside his bedroll so that he might choose the right time to tell her.

James believed he had done the right thing, but like most young men in wartime, innocence is the first personality trait to go. He was glad that the president himself was now behind the eradication of slavery, but he was not naïve enough to think that suddenly all Northerners cared about the slaves. So he decided to pretend that
he
was using the Union army to accomplish
his
purpose instead of the other way around.

As for his family in Georgia, he now realized that he may not see them until the war was over; maybe it was for the best. James had come to believe that nothing can so radically change the course of people's lives like war, and few things demand a higher personal price. He had already been so deeply separated from his father because of his beliefs, and now, even if his father didn't know it, he had committed the ultimate sin by joining the Union. He couldn't possibly know if there would be anything left of the relationship with his family when the war was over. For now he was stuck in the moment like so many others; putting his future on hold, waiting to see the outcome. All he could do was focus on his priorities: his wife and a Union victory.

 

SEVENTEEN

 

New Born Perspective

 

 

Heavy snow was falling and the wind was blowing hard as James headed southeast out of Chicago. His intention was to push hard, spending as little time possible making the trip. Thirty days would go by quickly and leaving home continued to be more difficult each time. In spite of his best effort, contending with the weather, it took three days for him to reach the western border of Pennsylvania. The spunky little gelding he had chosen, which he decided to call Tar because of his color, held up well over the long trip.

James dismounted to give the animal one last breather before covering the remaining thirty miles to Mapletown. It was hard to believe that he was so close. His long ordeal had been exceedingly more difficult without any communication with Polly.

It was seven p.m. and pitch dark when he reached the edge of town. Snow was falling when he left Chicago and it was falling again as he made his way up Main Street. It was very cold and the light in the windows of the houses he passed increased the yearning for his own fireside. As he approached the little house he shared with Polly, he could see a familiar horse and buggy parked out front. Upon closer inspection he could see that it was Reverend Pyle's rig. It was a comforting sight. James was grateful that they had such good friends in Mapletown, friends that would keep Polly from becoming too lonely.

Weary of the saddle, James climbed down and led Tar to the stable behind the house. He gave the gelding a hasty rubdown and an ample helping of grain. Then he hurried to the front porch, and feeling almost like a stranger, knocked on the door. It was opened by the good reverend who was so surprised to see James that for an instant, he seemed not to recognize him. Then he reached out, took him by the hand and fairly pulled him inside. With his eyes tearing up he said, “My Lord, James! Where have you been? We've all been so worried and no matter how hard we tried, we could find nothing concerning your whereabouts.”

The reverend's deep concern touched a nerve; James ignored his questions and said, “How is Polly, Reverend? How is my wife?”

“She is doing fine, James, just anxiety because of receiving no word from you. Mrs. Pyle is upstairs with her.” James turned away and started for the stairs but Reverend Pyle grabbed his arm.

“Wait a minute, James. There is something you don't know, something Polly never told you.”

“What is it, Reverend? Has something happened?” The reverend hesitated as if he were unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. Tension from sudden fear gripped James's whole body.

“There is someone else upstairs with Mrs. Pyle and Polly.”

“Who?”

“Your son.”

James stared at the reverend in disbelief. He was hit harder than when he'd been struck by bullets at the battle of Cumberland Gap. He sat down in the nearest chair and the reverend pulled another up beside him.

“My son? Polly was with child when I left?”

“Yes, James, she was.”

“My God, why didn't she tell me?”

“Because she loves you, son, and she has so much respect for what you're doing. She was afraid that if she told you, you might have stayed home. For as much as she wanted you to, she didn't want to be the reason that you abandoned your cause. She knows how important it is and she believes in it as much as you do.”

James felt a lump in his throat that was too large to swallow. The love he felt for Polly burst through every pore. “I guess she knows me pretty well. If I had known she was pregnant, I
would
have stayed. I still wish she'd told me. Polly is my whole life now. I still have other goals, other purposes; but I put nothing ahead of my wife . . . and my son. When did she give birth?”

“Two weeks ago. Everything went perfectly. She was in the capable hands of Dr. Pierce. You remember Dr. Pierce.”

“Yes. He saved my life the first time I came to this town.”

“Indeed. He stops by every few days to make sure everything is all right. Mrs. Pyle and I visit often. That is why we are here tonight.”

“Bless you, Reverend. I am very grateful for your friendship.”

“And you, James, you haven't told me what kept you.”

“When I left, I intended to visit my family in Georgia. I was fallen upon by Confederate soldiers in Kentucky and forced to join their army. I was wounded in battle, once in the shoulder and again in the side. The Confederates were driven from the field and I was left behind. After months of fighting off an infection in a hospital in Missouri, I was sent to a prison camp near Chicago. I was paroled three days ago and I made my way here as fast as I could.”

“Good heavens. You've had a difficult time of it. I knew something had gone wrong, but I wouldn't let Polly know what I was thinking, and I tried not to think the worst. But we all prayed very hard and the good Lord brought you home.”

“That He did, Reverend. I am reluctant to tell Polly the story. I don't want to upset her, especially now.”

“You're home, James. That alone will restore her spirits in no time. And now that the president is making war on slavery, there is no need to continue going south. The slaves will be freed—God and Mr. Lincoln will see to it.”

“God, Mr. Lincoln, and me, Reverend.”

“How is that, son?”

“I've joined the Union army.”

“I see. How long will you be home?”

“I have to report before the end of December.”

James got to his feet and began pacing the floor. “I'm so confused, Reverend. I just wish I'd known Polly was pregnant, maybe I wouldn't have acted so hastily. Does this make me irresponsible? Am I a terrible husband and father?”

The clergyman looked at James with a bewildered expression. “Of course not, son,” he said. “This country is involved in a serious conflict but behind it are some very good reasons. Thousands of good men have left their families and marched off to make things right. You are one of those good men. You want a better world for your wife and son. No one can call you irresponsible.”

“But will Polly understand? How much should she have to bear? And my family in Georgia; when this is over, if they should find out the truth, will they understand that I did what I felt was right?”

The reverend was pensive for a time. Then he said, “I have to be honest with you, James. I have to tell you that under the circumstances, this war may have driven a permanent wedge between you and your family in Georgia. You've tried to keep your true loyalty a secret . . . maybe for now you have. I doubt that you can do it forever and I don't believe that you should try. It is deceitful and I do not believe that you have the conscience for it. If they do find out, I think they may reject you. This war is more than just a difference in ideas. It is a matter of heritage, respect, and unconditional devotion. You, my friend, have had the misfortune of being caught flatfooted. You were born into a way of life that you do not agree with. This would have caused friction in any case. But now that it has come to bloodshed, it becomes a line you cannot cross and ever return.”

“I understand,” said James. “I have made my choice.”

“I'm afraid so. Now you must take comfort in the fact that you made the
right
choice. And God has provided a failsafe: your wife and son. They must be your first concern now, and they
will
understand what you are doing and why.”

“I think you're right, Reverend. Somehow I feel that everything will work out. Thank you.”

“That is the peace of the Lord, James. That is the peace of the Lord.”

At that moment, footsteps descended the stairs and Mrs. Pyle came into view. Her excitement rose quickly when she saw James. She rushed over and wrapped him in a motherly hug.

“Praise the Lord, James; we've all been so worried. Where have you been?”

The reverend interrupted her saying, “I will answer your questions later, dear. It's time we were getting home. James has had a long trip and he is anxious to go up and see his family.”

“Polly is asleep,” said Mrs. Pyle. “But I don't believe that she would be upset if you wake her.”

“I can't thank you both enough.”

“It was our pleasure, James,” said the reverend. “It was good to see you, son. Take care of yourself and your little family.”

When the Pyles were gone, James went over to the fireplace and knelt down by the crackling fire. It was wonderful to be home. In just a moment he would be going upstairs to see Polly and his new son. He could not believe how much his life had changed in two years; he could not believe how much he'd been through. He wondered what the next two years would bring. Hopefully the end of the war and perhaps a reunion with his parents and his sisters. In spite of the good reverend's words of warning, James decided to make a point of thinking positively. Maybe one day, all of his family would get a chance to know one another. Maybe out of the ashes of this fiery struggle would come a new and brighter tomorrow for all. Filled to the brim with anticipation, James stood up and headed for the stairs.

A coal oil lamp sitting on a table by the headboard cast a dim light over the room. After his eyesight had adjusted, he could see Polly lying on her side near the edge of the bed. In the back corner sat a cradle with a tiny, blanket-covered bundle inside. Quietly, he picked up the lamp, went over to the cradle and knelt down beside it. Holding the lamp aloft, he stared down at the sleeping baby. Between the blanket and the bonnet, he could see very little but he was looking at his son and the feeling was indescribable. James fell in love with him instantly. He began to think about all the time they would spend together and about all of the things he would teach him. He hoped that they would be close, the way James and his father had always been. Then his happiness was checked when he thought about what he might have done to that relationship. What if one day, for some reason, he found himself in a similar situation with his own son? How would he handle it?

James took one more prolonged gaze at the sleeping infant, and then he put the lamp back on the table and knelt down beside the bed. He kissed Polly gently on the forehead and she stirred a little. Then he stroked her cheek ever so lightly and she opened her eyes. A loving smile spread across her face and she said, “Am I dreaming?”