A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (32 page)

“I do understand, James, and I want you to know that I do not hate you. I never did, even when the whispered rumors began. As you said, Father kept us away from the harsh realities of slavery. I suppose that he was following a way of life that started generations ago. Sooner or later that way of life had to be broken either by war or by someone as conscientious as you. I despise the war and what it's done to the South. I despise the wasteful destruction that's been done to human life and property. I understand the concept of slavery, even if I didn't see it at home. Like you, I do not condone it and I suffer a certain sense of shame that the South has kept such a despicable crime as part of their way of life. The time has finally come for retribution and it has come with a vengeance.

“When our cousin, Jefferson, came home from the war, we found out that you were with the Union. I'm sorry I reacted badly when I first saw you, James. No matter what my feelings are about slavery, it is still difficult to see you in what is considered here to be an enemy uniform. Father had already had his suspicions but when Jefferson came home, we knew for sure.”

“I'm glad that he survived,” James interrupted. “I found him on the battlefield at Gettysburg. I was going for help when I was shot. I never knew what happened. He told me about Franklin, Clark, and Jessie. He also told me that Mother and Father were not faring well.”

 “Father took the news about you very hard. I think he lost a part of himself that day. Mother grew weaker and more distraught from worrying about him and worrying about you. She wouldn't eat. As the war news got worse, so did both of them. Ashton and I tried to care for them; by that time, all of the women of the house were gone. Husbands and sons died in the war and one by one, the women just went away.

“Ashton was close to breaking down. Without telling anyone, she married an Englishman, a blockade runner she'd met in Macon. He had come here after the start of the war to make his fortune as a smuggler. She had only known him for a week. It was Ashton's hope that he would take her to England, at least until the end of the war. But he only took her as far as Virginia. One night his vessel was attacked by a Union warship and he was killed. Now she lives alone somewhere near Winchester. We haven't heard from her in almost a year.

“When Lincoln freed the slaves, the plantation collapsed. All of the white men who worked for father were taken for the service and the Negroes started running away. Soon after, all that was left was Uncle Stanley, Uncle Joseph, and Father. They were ruined. It was all they could do to farm a small plot of land to raise food for their tables.” Then Kate stopped for a moment. James knew she had more to say but the further she went, the more difficult it became.

“Then one morning about six months ago, I prepared a bit of breakfast to take up to Mother. Father had already gone to the field. I opened her bedroom door and called to her but she did not answer. I sat the breakfast tray on the nightstand, rattling the cup and saucer, but Mother was asleep. I pulled a chair over by the bed and sat down. I sat there and I sat there, and I waited and waited but . . .” Kate suddenly grabbed James by the arm as if she might draw strength from it. James put his other arm around her and pulled her close, muffling her sobs. He knew the rest. He could feel his heart pounding beneath his heavy wool jacket. Then in a broken voice Kate said, “Oh James . . . Mother wasn't sleeping.”

At that point she broke down and James could not help from doing the same. His mother was gone; that sweet gentle woman, his first love. Guilt covered him like a shroud. How much had he contributed to her early decline? How had he not made it possible to see her in more than three years, especially when he was told that she was not well?

James guided Kate to the front stoop of a nearby house. They sat side by side and consoled each other.  When Kate regained her composure she said, “I sat in that chair until Father came home. I heard him call to me when he came in but I couldn't answer. He found me in the bedroom with Mother; as soon as he walked in, he knew. It broke him, James. It broke him completely. I got up and helped him into the chair. When I went in the next morning, he was still there. It was difficult to get him to understand that Mother needed to be taken care of. I didn't think he was going to allow her to be buried. I sent for Dr. Mead and he came; along with Reverend Tobias, they helped me with Father. I wrote to Ashton but I never heard from her. With the war going on, I can't be sure she ever received my letter.

“Father sat like a stone for days after the funeral. I wondered where you were. I wished you were there. Finally, he regained his senses. He told me that the war was heading for our front doorstep. He didn't want me in harm's way. I didn't want to leave but he was so distraught that I didn't want to argue with him. I don't know if you remember Mrs. Melanie Hunter. She grew up with Mother in Macon then moved to Savannah after she got married. People still call her Mrs. Hunter even though her husband died many years ago when the ship he was working on was lost at sea.

“She would visit Mother once or twice a year; back then, you were usually away at school. She has a fine house and she lives alone. She didn't have her husband long enough to have children and she never remarried. Father wrote to her and asked if I could stay with her for a while. A month later, Father received a letter from her. She said that I could come and stay as long as I wanted, so Father sent me here. Mrs. Hunter has been good to me, but when the war is over and Father sends word, I'll go home . . . if home is still there.”

It was well after dark now. James told Kate that he would walk her home. As they made their way to Mrs. Hunter's house, James told her about his life since leaving home. She was both surprised and sad when he told her about Polly and little James. She told James that she hoped to meet her sister-in-law and nephew someday. James promised her that the day would come. “I hope someday soon we will all be together again, Kate.”

“Before your hopes become too high, James, please understand that a reunion with Ashton may not be possible. After Jefferson told us about seeing you at Gettysburg, Ashton denounced you and she swore an oath that she would never speak to you again. She blames you for a great deal, even for the death of her husband. Her wounds may never heal.”

When they reached Mrs. Hunter's home, James hugged his sister again.

“I can't tell you how good it is to see you, Kate. I believe the army will be here for a couple of weeks. I will visit as often as I can while I'm here. I intend to speak to my commanding officer before we pull out and ask for a short furlough. I'd like to visit home before I leave Georgia. I must see Father and try to explain myself to him.”

“Maybe it would do him some good,” said Kate. “But I really don't know.”

“I have to try,” he replied. “I'll say goodnight now, Kate. I need to find a quiet place to think and to pray.”

 

TWENTY-SIX

 

The Best Laid Plans

 

 

The following weeks were very difficult for James as he did his duty and mourned his mother's death. It did not help knowing that his oldest sister, Ashton, hated him, and quite likely, his father as well. The bright spot, of course was not only finding Kate in Savannah, but more importantly she did
not
hate him. In fact, each opportunity he had to spend time with her made the relationship seem more as it had been before the madness all began. He wrote Polly a long letter bringing her up to date about his family.

A week before the army was ready to leave Savannah, James requested permission to see General Kilpatrick's Chief of Staff concerning a leave of absence. At first, Major Jennings was reluctant to acquiesce to his request. He explained that while he could appreciate the fact that James had been away from duty for over a year and a half because of a serious wound, still he had only been back on active duty for a short time. However, when James told the major about his mother's death and that home was relatively close by, the major relented, granting him three days.

On January 21
st
, the army was prepared to move out and head north into South Carolina. For James, it was very hard to say goodbye to Kate. He promised he would write to her after he'd visited their father. He further promised that he would be in touch with her after the war. “I'll bring my wife and son to Georgia. I am very anxious for them to meet you.”

“Please take care of yourself, James, and tell Father that I am well and ready to come home whenever he thinks best.”

“I'll tell him, Kate, goodbye.”

James climbed up on Goliath and headed out of the city toward Macon. It was true that he was shadowed by trepidation at the thought of confronting his father. He was also filled with some queer sort of anticipation, helplessly hoping that the visit would turn out better than he expected. The day before leaving Savannah, he purchased some civilian clothes that he intended to wear for the visit. He would not insult his father by wearing the uniform of whom
he
thought of as the enemy. He could hardly believe that he was finally on his way.

In spite of James's preoccupation with his family problems, there was still a war going on and a soldier must never forget that, especially in enemy territory. So absorbed was James in his preparation for the visit, that he did not realize he was being followed. When the first bullet whistled past him, the Confederates were just a few hundred yards behind and bearing down fast. Quickly assessing the situation, he could see that there was no cover anywhere close. Even if there had been, the odds were just too great. Accepting the fact that he had made a costly mistake, he did the only thing he could do. Reining Goliath to a stop, he dismounted, dropped his weapons and put his hands high in the air.

In about a minute he was encircled by a dozen gray-clad riders. A tall, rough hewn sergeant got off his horse and checked to be sure that James had completely disarmed himself then he said, “One a Sherman's boys ain't ya? You get lost from the herd?”

“No. I was heading home.”

“Where's home?”

“Macon.”

“Macon? In that Yank uniform? You tryin to be funny?”

“No. My home is near there.” James immediately regretted his blunder. What could have been worse than admitting to the likes of these men that he was a Southerner, especially since he was learning to disguise his accent so that it was not as recognizable? If only he had changed into the civilian clothing he'd purchased, before leaving Savannah. Ever since hearing of his mother's death, his ability to think clearly had suffered. Two serious mistakes in a row equaled the unfortunate result.

“So you're a traitor,” said the tall sergeant. “That's twice as bad as a regular Yankee. Least they's fightin for their side. You is fightin agin your'n. You is a dirty son of a bitch.”  One of the other soldiers, a private with dirty yellow hair and a nose like an eagle's beak said, “Let's shoot this turncoat scum.”

“I got me a better notion,” said the sergeant. “We'll take this bastard to Andersonville. Captn Wirz jes loves traitors. He'll see to it that this prick suffers proper fore he dies. You wouldn't wanna cheat this boy outta some Andersonville hospitality would ya?”

“I reckon not,” said the private.

“But Andersonville is for enlisted men, Sarge,” said a third captor. “This back stabber is a lieutenant.”

The sergeant took a knife from his pocket and carelessly slashed James clean of all insignia. “Now he looks just like a private.”

The rest of the Rebels enjoyed the laugh and added their agreement to the whole idea. Once again, fate had dealt him a cruel blow. There wasn't a soldier in the entire Union army who didn't shudder at the name Andersonville.

James knew that the guards at the prison would go much harder on him if they found out that he was from the South.  

The sergeant stripped Goliath of his saddle, then with the help of another man, hoisted James across the back of the horse face down on his stomach. Then they passed a rope underneath and tied his hands and feet together.

“Jake,” the sergeant said to the big nosed private. “You and Ladge deliver this garbage to Andersonville. Then head to Macon. We'll catch up with you there.” Then to James the sergeant said, “Have a nice ride, traitor. We'll say howdy to everyone in Macon for ya.”

Camp Sumpter, as it was officially called, was located on a rail line that connected Macon and Albany, about sixty miles southeast of Macon. It was twenty-seven acres of bare ground enclosed by a stockade of squared tree trunks. At the prison's inception, it was the intention of the authorities to build a barracks. However, by February 1864, the flood of prisoners was so overwhelming that the shelters never materialized.

When James reached the prison with his captors he was in agony. His insides ached from miles of bouncing on his stomach and his wrists were raw and bleeding from the rope that bound them. He had not been given as much as a mouthful of water during the entire trip. Twice he was plagued by the need to relieve himself and did so, which increased his discomfort.

When big nose Private Jake cut the rope and shoved him off Goliath's back, James laid on the ground too stiff and sore to get up. Undeterred by James's condition, Private Jake and his comrade Ladge, each grabbed an arm and dragged him to the commandant's office, letting him drop on the front porch. The door opened and a Confederate captain came out to investigate the noise.

“What have we here?” inquired the captain in a voice heavily laden with a Swiss accent. The two troopers saluted and Private Jake said, “Beggin your pardon, Capm. This here is a present from General Sherman that we ketched outside a Savannah. He's a Yankee traitor from Macon. Some a the boys wanted to shoot him but then we figured he'd a might rather spend some time in your stockade, sir.” Captain Wirz looked at James lying in a heap on the porch.