by John Holt
“I tell you, General, I have no reason,” Thackery repeated.
“What about the damage that he has caused,” Jarvis continued. “And I don’t just mean to your precious South. He has divided this country like never before. And not just the country, he has divided the people. It will be many years before it can be re-united, if ever. Who would ever trust him again?”
Thackery said nothing. “What about your own home and family?” Jarvis asked. He remained silent for a few moments waiting for Thackery to respond.
“Can it be true? Do you really not know?” he asked, shaking his head. “You must know, surely.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You really don’t know do you?”
Thackery was becoming more and more bewildered. “Know what?” he asked. “What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m really very sorry. Obviously you don’t know what the Union Army has done to your house, and your family,” Jarvis said. “It is bad news, very bad, and it shames me to be a member of the same army.”
“What has happened to my home and my family,” Thackery cried desperately, clutching at Jarvis’ coat.
“Captain, your house has been totally destroyed,” he replied. “Your parents, your father, mother …”
“What about my parents?” Thackery asked as the tears began to fall.
“They are dead,” Jarvis replied. He paused and placed his hand on Thackery’s arm. “I am truly sorry, Captain. I thought that you knew.”
Thackery could not believe it. His parents dead and his home destroyed. He suddenly felt weak, struggling to breath. He stumbled. Jarvis stepped forward and lowered him to the chair. “Let me get you some water.”
Thackery shook his head. “What happened?” he asked.
Jarvis sat back down and took a deep breath. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some water?” he asked.
“Please just tell me what happened,” Thackery pleaded.
Jarvis poured out two glasses of whiskey. He handed one to Thackery. “Drink that,” he said. “They were killed about a month ago, perhaps six weeks. I’m not exactly sure when. I understand that it was a rogue band of soldiers I am afraid. They got a little drunk and went on the rampage. They just let their pent up emotions get the better of them. I don’t think they meant things to get so out of hand. Your parents were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your father tried to stand up against them, and I’m afraid they retaliated.” He took a long drink. “Please accept my deepest sympathy, I thought that you knew.”
Thackery could not believe it. His parents were dead. Why would anyone kill them? What reason would they have? It made no sense. But there was no mistake. They were dead, and that was that. He looked down at the ground. Then he shook his head and looked up. He vowed vengeance. “I want Lincoln dead.” He picked up the glass of whisky and drained the glass.
“Captain, I understand how you feel,” said Jarvis, refilling Thackery’s empty glass. “We wish to see an end to him as well. I told you that we had something in common did I not?”
“We certainly agree on one thing,” replied Thackery.
“Now to business,” said Jarvis. “I know, and you know, that despite your previous denials, somewhere close by you have hidden a large quantity of gold bullion, gold taken from the gold reserve in Santa Ana.” He paused. Still there was no response from Thackery.
“Captain you have a straight choice. You and your men will be taken to the Williamsburg Prison, where you will stay until long after this war is over. Or we can do a deal.”
“Go on I’m listening,” said Thackery.
“My deal is quite simple,” Jarvis continued. “I give you and your men their freedom. They can go home, today, taking with them a share of that gold.”
“How do you know about the gold?” Thackery asked.
“Does it really matter, captain? Suffice to say that I know.”
“It matters,” Thackery replied, more and more convinced that there was a spy amongst his own men.
“Oh Captain, what can I say? Let us just say that we have our means and leave it at that.”
“Who told you?”Thackery continued, determined to get an answer.
“Alright Captain, I’ll tell you, after all it can do no harm, not now,” Jarvis replied. “It was a certain gentleman by the name of Luis Alvarez, do you know of him?”
Thackery shook his head.
“No. No matter, he was most helpful. I believe he is something high up in the Mexican Finance Ministry. Naturally he was well rewarded for the information.”
“So I tell you where the gold is, what do you get out of it?” Thackery asked.
“As I said, all I want is half of the gold shipment,” replied Jarvis. “That will be more than enough for my purpose, more than enough in fact to get Grant into the White House.”
So that was what it was all about, to get Ulysses S. Grant into the White House. Thackery wondered if he could trust the General. He quickly realized that he had very little choice, and nothing much to lose. “All right,” he said. “And my men go free, no restrictions?”
“Just tell me where the gold is hidden.”
* * *
Thackery gave Jarvis details of where the bullion was hidden, and then gathered his men together.
“Men I have just come to an agreement with General Jarvis,” Thackery started to explain. “You are all being set free, and allowed to go home.”
There was a loud cheer from the men. Sergeant Trelor pushed forward. “Quiet,” he ordered. Then he turned towards Thackery. “Captain, you said that we are being set free,” he said. “There was no mention regarding yourself.”
Thackery looked at the Sergeant, and then slowly looked at the other men. “I shall be staying here with the General.”
“What do you mean, sir?” asked Corporal Bennett.
“We’re not leaving without you, sir,” said Will Cantwell.
“The General has arranged for you all to have safe conduct to see you through the Union lines, and back home,” Thackery explained. “You will all have a share of the gold. For you the war is over. Go home with my thanks.”
“And what about you, sir?” asked the Sergeant.
Thackery looked at the Sergeant, and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Sergeant I have nothing to go home for,” he replied. “I will remain here with the General.”
“Come with us, sir,” said Roberts, smiling and holding out his hands.
Thackery looked at him, and smiled back. It was tempting, he thought, but he knew that he could not go. He was too far into the plan. He knew too much. They would never let him go, not now. “Maybe later,” he replied. He grasped the outstretched hands. “You go now. And my thanks go with you.”
Roberts shook Thackery’s hand warmly. He held on tightly, unwilling to let go. “Go on,” Thackery coaxed gently. “We’ll meet again, quite soon.” Roberts let go and without any further words, he turned and slowly walked away.
“I’m staying with you sir,” said Sergeant Trelor coming to attention and saluting smartly.
Thackery smiled and shook his head. “No, Sergeant, not this time,” he said. “I need you to see that the men get home safely.”
The Sergeant started to protest. “Corporal Bennett can do that sir, they don’t need me.”
Thackery held up his hand to stop him. “Go on now Sergeant,” he said. “And that’s an order.
The Sergeant shook his head. “Sir we have been together for nearly four years,” he said. “We have seen a lot of action together. It has been a great privilege and an honor to serve with you, sir. And in all of that time, there has never been an occasion, not once, where I have disobeyed your orders.” He looked down at the ground and nodded his head. “Not once.” He looked up. “Is that not correct, sir?”
“Absolutely correct,” Thackery replied, wondering where this conversation was leading.
“I would never refuse an order, sir,” the Sergeant continued. “Until now that is.” Thackery looked at him. Was
the Sergeant crying, he murmured? He opened his mouth to speak, but the Sergeant was still talking. “Well sir, this will be the first and last time that I disobey an order from you,” he said nervously, his voice beginning to falter.
Thackery moved forward. “Now Sergeant if you are saying what I think you are saying.”
“I’m staying with you, Sir,” the Sergeant interrupted, now once more composed. “I’m staying and that’s all there is to say about it.” He saluted smartly. “I’ll get the men on their way then sir.” He did a smart about turn and marched away.
* * *
“November 28th 1864 – I have nothing to go home for. My poor father and dear mother are dead. My home is no more. I care not what happens to me, and I have decided to join with General Jarvis in his venture. My trusted Sergeant has chosen to stay with me, and nothing I say or do will sway him from that path.
My loyal men are now on their way home. I have been promised that no harm will come to them, and in a few days they will be safe with their families. God bless them and keep them safe.”
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Five
January 1865 - General Thomas Jarvis
It was clear that Lucy had been crying. And the dark patches under her eyes indicated that she wasn’t sleeping. She had barely looked up as Miles had entered the room, continuing to stare blankly across the room.
“What has happened?” Miles asked.
Clive stepped forward. He was holding a sheet of paper, which he handed to Miles. “It’s James,” he said quite simply.
“James,” repeated Miles. “He isn’t …”
“Oh no, he isn’t dead,” said Clive. “Read the letter.”
Miles looked over at Lucy, and then he looked back at the letter. James had been wounded and was a prisoner in the prison camp at Andersonville in Southwest Georgia. “Do you know when this happened?” he asked Clive.
Clive shook his head. “Only that the letter is dated three days ago,” he replied. “Of course he could have been wounded months ago.”
* * *
Earlier that day Captain Miles Drew had been asked to call on his cousins as a matter of urgency. Clive had explained that James was now a prisoner in Andersonville. The camp was notorious. It was badly overcrowded, and by all accounts the Union prisoners were being deliberately starved.
“Is there anything that you can do, Miles?” asked Clive as he saw Drew to the door. “I mean perhaps arrange for a prisoner exchange, they do that don’t they?”
Miles said that he would see what he could do, and started back to the fort. He was painfully aware that there was, in fact, nothing he could do. Grant had ceased the prisoner exchange policy some months before, back in March. James would just have to hang on and see the war out. It couldn’t last much longer, not now, a few short months and it would all be over.
* * *
“I’ll see what I can do,” replied the General, after Miles had explained the situation. “Only I wouldn’t hold out much hope. You do know that Grant ceased that exchange agreement some while ago.”
“Yes sir,” replied Miles. “I understand that he was against exchanging prisoners who went back into battle. I just thought that maybe he might consider exchanging wounded prisoners.”
“That’s possible I suppose,” replied the General. “Maybe you could mention it to your visitor who is expected a little later on.”
“Visitor, sir?” said Miles, puzzled. “What visitor?”
The General looked down at his desk, and started to shuffle through some papers. “Here it is,” he said as he found the document he wanted. “A General Thomas Jarvis, do you know him?”
Miles admitted that he did not know General Jarvis. “Do you know what he wants?”
“No idea,” replied the General. “But he is on Grant’s staff, so it might suit your purpose very well.”
“What time can I expect him?” Miles asked.
“Three o’clock I’m told,” said the general. “I hope he can help you.”
* * *
Three o’clock on the dot there was a knock on Miles’ door. The door opened and Sergeant O’Reilly entered the room. “Captain Drew, sir, I have General Jarvis to see you.”
Miles looked up. “All right Sergeant, send him in and come in yourself.”
The Sergeant opened the door wider, to allow a tall grey haired man to enter. “Captain Drew?” he asked as he entered the room, the Sergeant following close behind. “I am General Thomas Jarvis, from Grant’s headquarters.”
Miles stood up and saluted. “Captain Drew at your service, sir” he said. “What can I do for you, General?”
Jarvis looked at the chair in front of Miles’ desk. “May I?” he said.
“Oh certainly sir,” Miles replied quickly. “Please sit down. Can I get you anything? Coffee or perhaps you would prefer something stronger?”
Jarvis shook his head. He sat down and waited for Miles to resume his seat.
“Now, sir what is it I can do for you?” asked Drew.
“Captain I require certain information, and I understand that you may very well have what I am looking for.”
“I’ll help in any way I can, sir,” Miles replied. “What information do you need?”
“I understand that you may have information relating to a certain John Wilkes Booth,” Jarvis explained. “Is that correct?”
Miles hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “That is correct, sir,” he replied. “I have a file on Mr. Booth. In fact over the months we have accumulated a substantial amount of information on both he and his associates.”
Jarvis smiled. “That’s very good to hear Captain,” he replied. “I wonder if I might see your file?”
Miles hesitated once again, wondering what it was all about. “Could I ask why you need this information, sir?” he asked.
“All in good time Captain,” replied Jarvis. “Now if I could see the document?”
Miles stood up and walked over to a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. He opened the drawer and after a few moments withdrew the required file. “Here it is, sir,” he said as he returned to his desk and sat down. He passed the file to the General. “It’s all in there, sir, everything we know about Mr. Booth.”
The General said nothing, but started to read through the file. Every so often he would stop and turn back. After a few minutes he stopped and closed the file. “A very thorough piece of work, Captain,” he said. “Excellent, I am very much impressed. You are to be congratulated.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Miles as he reached across for the file.
The General continued to hold on to the file. “Captain, do you think I could borrow this for a while?”
Miles was unsure. He really did not want the file out of his hands, it contained valuable information. But this was a request from a General, an order maybe. Was he really in a position to say no? “Perhaps you could now tell me what this is all about, sir,” he replied.
The General nodded. “Of course, Captain, you have a right to know.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sure that you know that there has been a threat to kidnap the President.”
“There have been several General,” said Miles. “They are all fully detailed in my files. Most of them are false alarms, nothing more than lunatics. Harmless meaningless rants that’s all.”
“Indeed there have, as you say, been several,” the General replied. “And most are false alarms. But I am concerned with one particular threat.”
“The threat from our Mr. Booth,” suggested Miles.
“We have certain information that indicates that such a threat may be credible,” replied the General.
“I have to say that there is nothing conclusion in our files,” said Miles. He looked over at the Sergeant. “That’s right isn’t it Sergeant?”
The Sergeant took a step forward. “Correct, sir. In fact if memory serves I think I said that it was nothing more than the ranting of a madman, sir.”
“You did, Serg
eant,” replied Miles.
“That’s a possibility of course,” said Jarvis. “However, Mr. Booth has, in fact been arrested in a small town in Maryland.”
Miles looked surprised. “That’s where he was born,” he replied. “A town called Bel Air.”
“Really, I didn’t know that,” said the General. “As I was saying he has been arrested and taken in for questioning. So your files will be very useful.”
“I have to say that I’m surprised at this news, General,” Miles replied trying not to sound angry, and failing. “I should have been kept informed after all I have been given the task of protecting the President.”
“Yes you have, Captain,” the General agreed. “And I too am concerned that you were not kept advised. I will certainly look into that for you. I imagine it was merely an oversight, but I can assure you whoever is to blame will be disciplined. Have no fear.”
Miles was not convinced, or placated, but there was nothing to be done. Booth had been apprehended and that was that. Certainly he could understand that his information could be invaluable, but nonetheless he still did not like the idea of his file leaving his possession. If the truth were known he was also extremely surprised that Booth had been apprehended anyway. Surely such information would have come to him before now.
“I’ll get a copy made for you, sir,” he said. “If that is acceptable, General?”
“Perfectly acceptable, Captain,” the General replied, as he stood up. “Perhaps you could get it to me as soon as possible.”
“Give me a couple of days, and I’ll have it waiting for you,” Miles replied as he stood up. Jarvis nodded and started towards the door.
“Sir, just before you go I wonder if you could help me with a personal matter,” Miles continued. “It concerns my cousin to be exact.”
Jarvis stopped at the doorway. “What about your cousin?”
“It’s about her husband, James Whitmore, a Second Lieutenant with Major General George H. Thomas.”
“I know General Thomas. Go on, Captain,” the General coaxed.
“He was wounded on December 16th, at the battle of Nashville,” Miles explained. “He was captured and taken to the prison camp in Andersonville, and has been there ever since.”