Spake As a Dragon

by Larry Hunt

  Chapter Nine

  Louie Labeau

  Before Malinda can continue the stories of the old days, the sound of horses can be heard coming from the road toward their house. From the sound, she estimates there must be at least half a dozen riders or more.

  “You girls stay in the house. I’m going out on the porch and see who’s coming.” Stepping out onto the porch, she sees a group of horsemen, numbering around eight or ten approaching at a gallop. From where she stands, she cannot recognize any of the men.

  The leader, riding a handsome, black, stallion, stops at the hitching rail, tips the brim of his hat with a gloved finger and says, “Are you Mrs. Scarburg?”

  Malinda isn’t exactly frightened, but she senses there is something sinister about this man. Most of his men wear an assortment of mixed Yankee and Confederate uniforms, none of which match, and all are heavily armed. It appears they have not been near a stream of water in quite a while either. Shaggy, untrimmed beards cover the faces of all but the leader. The leader asking her the question is a grubby, brown-skinned, mean-eyed man, a little on the heavy side, with a thick, black mustache with ends extending below the lower jaw.

  From head to toe his dress is all black. On his head, he wears a sombrero. A large black hat adorned with a rattlesnake band. His whole outfit is topped off with a pair of black, leather chaps with long flowing fringe. The edges of which are adorned with silver Mexican pesos. His knee-length black boots look as though they have recently been shined; however, handsome, ornate, hand-carved silver spurs with large toothed, spinning rowels overshadow the soft, leather boots. Over it all, he wears a black knee length duster, with a slightly upturned collar.

  When he speaks, she notices he has one gold tooth in the front of his mouth and talks with a slight accent. He sits astride a handsome, silver inlaid, double hitched, roping saddle. Is it Mexican? For sure it isn’t Army issue. Is he Mexican, Indian or a mix? She cannot tell his nationality.

  Before she has a chance to ponder this question he speaks again, “I asked you a question woman, I demand you answer me!”

  Malinda, never the one to back down replies, “Who do you think you are, coming on my land demanding I answer you? I am not afraid of you, but I will answer - yes I am Malinda Scarburg.”

  “Is it true you have a husband and two sons off fighting in the War?”

  “I do not see how that concerns you, but yes it is true. What do you want?”

  “Shut up woman! I’ll ask the questions.”

  William and Tom Henry hear the commotion in the front yard. Both come running from the rear of the house and leap upon the porch next to their mother. William declares, “Is everything all right, Mama?” William directs his attention to the boss man, “Sir, you best not talk to my mother in that tone of voice!”

  “Well now,” the man replied. “What do we have here?”

  “You all get off my property!” Malinda snapped.

  “Listen, woman do you know who you are talking to?”

  “Not only do I not know who you are – I don’t care, now git!”

  From underneath the large black sombrero his eyes narrow, as if squinting, he loudly asks, “I am Louie Labeau...does that name mean anything?” Before Malinda can answer he continues, “I am Captain Louie Labeau, head of the Home Guard.” Waving his arm, “these are but a few of my men.”

  From the barn loft Isaac, Stephen, Uncle Jed, and Jefferson watch the confrontation in the yard. Isaac swears right then and there he will not leave the house again without his father’s double-barreled shotgun. He and Stephen are totally unarmed and cannot offer any assistance to their mother from this group of murderous, looking men. All they can do is cower behind the barn wall and cautiously watch through a crack. 

  Labeau continues, “I understand you have some cornmeal and flour? In the name of the Confederate States of America, I demand you turn this over to us! Give the food to us immediately!”

  “Demand? Demand? Who are you to demand? That is our food! I have already provided a husband and two sons to your Confederate States of America, I will not supply you anything more.”

  “Excuse me. I did not mean ‘give,’ the Confederacy is more than willing to pay for the food.”

  “Pay? Pay me with what? That worthless Confederate money?”

  Mattie Ann and Lizzie sitting on the parlor floor, listen unobserved from underneath an open window and hear every word spoken. Mattie slips from her hiding place and quietly on tiptoe hurries to the kitchen’s meal and flour box. She removes the last sack of flour and the remainder of the cornmeal. She wonders what to do with them now? Looking around the kitchen, she can see no place that will make a good hiding place.

  It is summer, and the kitchen fireplace is not being used. She pushes the flour sack and cornmeal bags up into the chimney, arranges everything around the hearth as though nothing has been disturbed. After a check of the kitchen, to make sure everything is in order, she returns to Lizzie still hiding underneath the window and scared.

  Louie Labeau is, in fact, mixed race; his pappy was Cajun of French decent and his mother a black, prostitute slave girl from the French Quarter in New Orleans. Labeau hated the name – ‘half-breed,’ half white and half black. However, what makes him despise his station in life is the fact that half-breeds are condemned in the antebellum South more than blacks. They do not fit in in the white world, and the black folks will not accept them either.

  Labeau left New Orleans in his teens. He ran away from home and pretended for a while he was an Indian; sometimes he would tell folks he was Mexican. Whatever the story, he grew up mean and resentful. Resentful of all whites, blacks, Indians and even Mexicans too. He tried hard to cover it up, but he could not erase his entire Louisiana accent, he still retained a hint of it. He hated the Cajuns too. It did not matter to him he hated all equally. He migrated to Alabama early in the 1850s working his way up the Mississippi and then the Tennessee River as a deck hand on the steamboat ‘Natchez,’ finally arriving at Ditto’s Landing, Alabama. He would not have left his steamboat life at such a remote river port in North Alabama if it had not been for the trouble he had gotten in to while traveling up the Tennessee. During a dispute in a card game, he beat a fellow deckhand on the large paddle wheeler to within an inch of his life. The tobacco-chewing, ever-cussing, always-wary riverboat captain thought it best to be rid of him – he physically kicked him off his boat just south of Huntsville, Alabama.

  Labeau found work as a roustabout on the docks of Ditto’s Landing in the daytime and worked the poker tables at night cheating at cards. It wasn’t much of a life, but for the time being it would do; however, the war was coming and he was the right age for conscription. Important military dignitaries traveled up and down the river, sometimes getting on or off paddle wheelers

  at the Ditto’s Landing wharfs. He could not take the chance that they would see him, and noticing his age would have him marching off to some battle that he had no interest in fighting. He left Ditto’s Landing and moved farther east and south arriving in the sleepy little town of Albertville, Alabama. Albertville had a railroad, but there was nothing of military interest in or near this remote crossroad settlement – it was a perfect place for him to lie low until the War’s end.

  His ‘slick’ card-playing career coupled with his skill with his fists eminently qualified him as a bouncer in the roughest saloon in town. One night he met his match when he tried to oust a cotton farmer the size of a small mule, and about as tough and ornery. He could not beat the rough redneck in a fair fight, so he employed a pair of brass knuckles and a blackjack. He beat the overgrown clodhopper to death. Until the circuit-riding judge arrived in town, the sheriff placed Labeau under arrest and lodged him in the Marshall County jail at Guntersville, Alabama.

  The local Confederate Conscription Officer heard of Labeau’s last exploit and made a visit to the jail. Labeau told the Major he was Spanish, and hailed from Louisiana. The Conscription Officer bought Labeau’s
story, in fact, he didn’t care about his nationality; he had a job for Labeau. An unpleasant job that demanded a rough man: Captain of the Home Guard.

  Labeau saw this as two strokes of good luck. First he would be deferred from active military service, even if he were discovered to be an American, and second there was an excellent chance to make some good, if not dishonest, money. With this job, he could rob the citizens under the guise of the law and not be prosecuted. The Home Guard’s duties including finding and returning deserters, searching for draft dodgers and seeking out men between the age of sixteen to sixty to conscript into the Army of the Confederacy. Most of the time, the boys and men the Home Guard ferreted out were reluctant to return to their previous military units or they were determined not to enter the service of the State of Alabama altogether. Conflicts such as these were where the skills of Louie Labeau came in to play. He and his gang of legal thieves and ruffians were to ‘gently’ persuade those men and boys to see the error of their ways, and change their minds about military service.

  “Why ain’t you boys in the army?”

  William and Tom Henry do not reply.

  “Tell me boys...your ages, or I will beat it out of you?” As he cracked his menacing, eight-foot, bullwhip.

  Malinda quickly answers, “William is going on twenty-one and Thomas Henry is thirteen.”

  “Well now...” Labeau grinned; his gold tooth sparkling as he twists the end of his mustache.

  “I’ve already got three of my men in the Army, and William is home working the farm. Thomas Henry is not old enough −”

  “Now we’re gettin’ sommers,” he said glaring at the two boys, “I’ll deal with you two later.” He turns his attention back to Malinda, “now take me to the flour and cornmeal. I’m done through talkin’ with −”

  “I tell you we don’t have any extra food!”

  Captain Labeau dismounts; stomps up the walk toward the porch at the same time slapping his pant leg with his braided, leather bullwhip. Pushing Malinda aside he does not bother to turn the knob on the front door – he kicks the door open.

  Mattie Ann and Lizzie scream and run to their mother’s side. She kneels and pulls them close, “Don’t be frightened girls everything is going to be fine,” gently stroking their heads. “He will be gone in a while.”

  “Who else is in the house?” Labeau demands as he enters the kitchen. He sees Sary cowered in the corner. “Well, what we got here – how many of these slaves you got?”

  Malinda answers, “None! I don’t own any slaves – Sary is a free woman. She was working for a small salary and found before the War, now she just works for found. I can’t pay her anything.”

  Sary jumps to her feet and gets right in Labeau’s face, “Git outta mys kitchen you Carpetbagger, git yerself and yer trash out of the Misses house I say!”

  Pushing Sary aside, he begins throwing dishes and pans about the kitchen yelling, “Where is that flour and meal?”

  Seeing that delaying the inevitable any longer is useless Malinda speaks to Labeau, “The flour and meal are kept in the flour box,” pointing to a large wooden box. She further explains, “Over in the corner,” and sarcastically adds, “why don’t you help yourselves.”

  Following behind Labeau, Malinda watches as he opens the lid to the box. “What the blazes?” The Captain steps back, turns and screams, “it’s empty!”

  Malinda is as surprised as Labeau. Stunned she replies, “I was trying to tell you we have no food. Now get out of my house!”

  “Well, I might not get any food, but I’m not leaving empty handed – that son of yours will make a fine soldier.”

  As they walk back toward the front door, Malinda gently tugs at Captain Labeau’s sleeve. He turns, “Could I have a word in private Captain?”

  She directs Labeau into the hallway next to the steps leading upstairs. Once his men have gone outside Malinda grabs Labeau’s hand. He jerks his hand back she grabs it once again. This time she places a Double-Eagle gold coin in his palm. “This is all the hard money I have, the rest is Confederate. Give my boy at least a week to get our farm in order before he goes off to the Army, please. We have one bale of cotton. If you can wait until then I will sell the cotton and give you all the money it brings.”

  Labeau opens his hand and sees the twenty dollar gold piece. He rubs it between his thumb and index finger. He sticks it between his teeth and bites hard it feels good, but more gold from the sale of the cotton will be better, he agrees to the proposition.

  As the scum of Southern society rides toward the front gate, the family watches from the porch. With Labeau leaving William is safe for the present, but Malinda knows her son is on borrowed time - she does not have an iota of cotton to sell!