The Last Confederate

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Captain Vance Wickham paid the full price of devotion on the field at Sharpsburg . . .” he said, and in a few words traced Wickham’s heroic act. “I give this citation to the wife of Captain Wickham, well aware that her grief can in no manner be assuaged by this act. But it is all that a grateful nation can do, and we award it with a full heart.”

  Belle took the medal, curtsied to General Lee, saying, “In my gallant husband’s name, I accept this award.”

  She turned, and Thad moved to go with her, but General Lee said, “Corporal Novak, I would like you to wait.” He turned to his nephew and said, “Major Lee, would you read the citation?”

  Major Lee read something from a paper, but Thad did not understand a word of it. The shock of being in front of Robert E. Lee and in front of the vast army addled him. He heard words about “heroic conduct,” “in the best tradition of the service,” and then Major Lee stepped back.

  General Lee stepped forward and pinned a piece of ribbon to Thad’s blouse, and then he put his hand out, saying, “It is always good to hear of the bravery of our men, but it is especially gratifying to hear of a young man who shows great initiative under the terrible pressures of battle.” He stepped back and Major Lee handed something to him. Lee’s deep eyes were happy, Thad thought, as he said, “On the recommendation of your officers, I appoint you brevet lieutenant of Company A, Third Virginia Infantry.”

  Thad took the lieutenant’s insignia, saluted, then turned blindly as a cheer went up, which included a wild rebel cry that he was certain originated in the throat of Dooley Young. He made it back to his seat, but was grabbed and embraced by the Winslow family; and after the troops were dismissed, Company A descended on him like locusts, led by Dooley.

  “You ain’t got them bars pinned on yet, you scudder!” Dooley laughed, and his comrades crowded around, laughing and shaking his hand. “Jest remember, we brought you up right, so we’re expectin’ good things from you—like a furlough every week!”

  Pet was watching from the sideline, and she whispered to Mark, “You take care of him, you hear me!”

  “I guess we’ll take care of each other,” he remarked, and he and Pet walked forward and spirited Thad away from the men who surrounded him.

  ****

  The conspiracy had been well planned, for Thad found a brand new lieutenant’s uniform waiting for him in a hotel room where Mark took him before the ball. He put it on slowly after Mark left, then sat down, feeling unsteady. He was still there an hour later when Mark came back, saying, “What’s wrong? Everybody’s waiting for you!”

  Thad got up and said, “I can’t do it, Captain!”

  Mark came over and spoke kindly. “You’re still in shock, Thad. But you have to go. Come on, now; it won’t be so bad.”

  He steered Thad out of the room as if he were a sleepwalker, leading him down the stairs and into the large ballroom. The thousands of candles and lamps blinded his eyes, and the colored gowns of the women dazzled him. He followed Mark across the room where he saw Mr. and Mrs. Winslow standing beside Major Lee. “Well, here he is!” the major said. “And looking very well—the last Confederate!”

  “The last Confederate?” Sky asked with a puzzled look. “Why do you call him that, Major?”

  “While I was lying wounded under that horse at Sharpsburg,” Lee said, “I didn’t have much hope. I could see dying in a Yankee prison camp as a real possibility. Then, just when I’d given up hope of any of our men getting to me—up popped this young fellow, and that’s when I thought, This has to be the last Confederate!” He looked fondly at Thad and said, “I know other young men will join our army, but I guess that’s the way I’ll always think of Thad Novak.”

  Thad felt utterly miserable and out of place, and they all saw it. “Thad,” Rebekah suggested, “come along and have some of my fresh peach cake before it’s all gone!” And the two walked away.

  “The boy looks more frightened than he did when he came to rescue me in the battle,” Lee commented in a sympathetic voice. He turned to Belle and asked, “Will you have this dance with me, Mrs. Wickham?”

  Belle, dressed in black, was the most striking woman in the room. Her black gown set off her jet black hair and piercing eyes, and the single pearl she wore at her throat on its golden chain glowed as if it were alive. She replied quietly, “If you don’t mind, sir, I would rather not.”

  “I understand,” he murmured. “It is very hard.”

  She looked at him and there was something hypnotic in her gaze. “I will not dance with any man until the Yankees are driven from our land,” she responded. Her voice was quiet, but there was a vein of iron beneath its softness. “I have been too careless in the past, but from this moment I will live only for one purpose: to see the Union destroyed.”

  Something in her voice disturbed Lee, and glancing at her father, he saw that Sky, too, was disturbed. “We live in terrible times,” he said, “but we must never lose our humanity.”

  Belle Wickham gave him a steady stare, and whispered in a steely voice, “I once had that, sir, but now that my husband is dead, there is nothing left in me but a desire to see as many Yankees in their graves as our armies can put there.” She turned, saying, “Excuse me please,” then left the ballroom.

  “Belle’s got to learn gentleness,” Sky said, shaking his head sadly. “She’s never had any sorrow in her life, so when it came, it destroyed her ideals.”

  “She’s young. She’ll change,” Lee replied gently.

  Sky shook his head. “She’s a different woman. Not at all the warm-hearted girl she used to be.” Sadness filled his voice, and he said quickly, “We will pray for her, Major—and for all who have been wounded, in spirit as well as in body.”

  “Amen,” Major Lee agreed, and the two men turned to watch the dancers.

  ****

  Thad gulped down the cake, not tasting it. After a while he groaned, “Mrs. Winslow, I feel awful! I don’t belong here.”

  “Nonsense!” she rebuked him. “You’re an officer now. You must learn to act like one. Go dance with a pretty girl.”

  He looked around the room and asked pitifully, “Which one?”

  Rebekah gave him a sly smile and asked, “Why don’t you start with the one Mark’s bringing this way?”

  He stared at the pair, and panicked. “Oh no! She wouldn’t—and I can’t dance very good.”

  “Ask her!” Rebekah urged, and gave his tender side a nudge with her elbow.

  Thad swallowed, and muttered, “Ah—may I have this dance, Miss . . . ?”

  The girl was wearing a white gown trimmed in royal blue. It hugged her tiny waist, flaring out to the wide hoop skirt below and outlining her womanly form above. Her hair was pinned up in a mass of dark curls held by a blue ribbon. Her eyes were bright as she looked at him. She curved her full lips in a smile. “Why, Thad, of course I’ll dance with you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Pet!” he gasped, and stared at her until both brother and sister laughed.

  “If you don’t close your mouth and put your eyes back in your head,” Mark whispered as he handed her over, “you won’t be able to dance. Besides, you look silly!”

  “Leave him alone, Mark,” Pet scolded and held her arms out. “Now, after all this time, I’m going to have this dance.”

  Thad put his arm around her, his head whirling, and somehow he made his feet move. She had taught him the simple steps while he was recuperating, but it was nothing like what he was doing now.

  He was so serious that she laughed. “It’s supposed to be fun, Thad!” she teased. “You go at it as if it were a battle!”

  “Can’t help it!” he gasped. And she saw that he was pale and took pity on him.

  “I’ve been feeling a little warm,” she said. “Why don’t we get a breath of air on the balcony?”

  “Sure!” He had no idea where the balcony was, but she led him in and out of the crowd and through a pair of double glass doors.

  “Now, this is be
tter, isn’t it?” she sighed. He looked around and saw that they were on a very small court, with flagstones and plantings. The yellow light from the candles streamed through the doors, and it was very quiet compared to the room they had just left.

  “You look so handsome in your uniform!” Pet told him. She ran her hand over the bars on his shoulders and said, “I’m so proud of you!”

  He stared at her, fascinated by the way the soft light of the harvest moon turned her gray eyes to silver. “I didn’t even know you!” he said, wonder in his voice. “You’re so beautiful, Pet.”

  “I—I’m glad you think so, Thad,” she whispered. He seemed very tall as he stood there, and her lips trembled as she added, “You don’t usually think of me as a woman. I’ve been like another boy to you most of the time.”

  “Well . . .” he replied uncertainly, “nobody would take you for a boy now!”

  She waited for him to go on, but he seemed to be paralyzed, and she said, “Thad—do you remember the night you got saved, and we rode home together?”

  “Yes.”

  “You said there were things you wanted to tell me, but you couldn’t.” She leaned against him, and the pressure seemed to fluster him. “I want to hear them now, Thad—please!”

  The last word was spoken in a gentle tone. He remembered that night and their expressed love for each other. He bent his head and kissed her tenderly, his arms around her. As he held her in a tight embrace, he felt her hands go around his neck. For a long moment they stood there, taking and giving, and neither of them ever knew which it was who first drew back.

  “Pet, I love you so much!” He choked over the words, and added, “I guess I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you; but I know one thing—there’ll never be another woman for me!”

  “Oh, Thad!” she cried, and she bit her lower lip, then tilted her head back to study his face. “Will we be married?”

  “Yes. Someday,” he said slowly. “I couldn’t ask you to marry me that night before I left to return to the army, and I can’t now. There’s a war to fight first. I don’t believe in some of the things the South is fighting for—but I can’t quit.”

  “I know!” Pet replied, and touched his face. “I know, sweet!”

  They stood there in the moonlight, talking of the future—about Belle Maison, about Belle and her hatred for the North that threatened to destroy her, about her brothers.

  “We’d better go inside, Pet,” Thad finally said. But both were reluctant to return to the ballroom. He took her in his arms once more, saying, “I love you!”

  She held to him fiercely, unable to let go. She wanted to sob like a forsaken child, but knew that she must not. At last she lifted her head and kissed him.

  “We’ll outlast this war!” she said firmly. “God put us together, my love, and no matter what happens—we’ll have each other!”

  Then they turned and walked out of their own solitary world of love and joy into the world of war and suffering.

  GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals, and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children. He and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.