The Treasure Train
Page 36
“I’m not surprised. But what do these marriages have to do with the mission of the bureau?” Patrick asks.
“Exactly,” responds the major, “but it gets better: General Wild no sooner had stepped down from his railroad car than he issued orders seizing the courthouse and other property, claiming it had been used to aid the rebellion.”
“I guess that’s what you mean when you say they’ve gone crazy,” says Jacob.
“Oh, there’s more. Then Wild rounded up some colored troops from the garrison and went searching for the gold stolen from the Richmond banks. He went out to Reverend Chennault’s plantation, where the train was camped when it was attacked. One of his housekeepers, Angelina, told Wild the good reverend had information about the treasure. But the preacher proclaimed that he didn’t have the gold or any knowledge about it.”
Patrick and Jacob exchange glances of sheer disbelief.
“Wild wouldn’t take the pastor’s word, so he searched the house and grounds. He even had the female members of the family locked in a room and strip searched. As for the men, they were taken into the woods where they were tortured—hung up by their thumbs. He even tortured Angelina’s son, Tom!”
“Did Wild learn anything?” Jacob wonders aloud.
“The family had nothing to share,” says Allen. “The only gold they had is what they saved up during the war. And, to add insult, the soldiers shot Jeff Davis, the family dog.”
“Where is Wild now?” asks Patrick.
“Still in Washington. Got the women locked up in a room at the courthouse. Says he’s going to arrest the men.”
“Maybe this time the people he abused can get some justice of their own,” says Patrick.
“This has already gone directly up to General Grant, so we’ll see what happens. Unfortunately,” says Allen, “the local people assume everyone else in the government is just like Wild.”
“Sounds like he’s a danger as long as he’s in Washington,” Jacob says.
“He is. He told the provost last night that he’s going to seize the home of Robert Toombs. Claims since Toombs is a fugitive, that his house is abandoned property. Of course, that will put Mrs. Tombs out on the street. Wild wants to use the house as the headquarters for his Freedmen’s Bureau.”
“Hopefully Grant will intervene before Wild goes completely ‘wild,’” says Patrick.
Major Allen gets up to leave. “I’ll leave you to your visit, and, again, Patrick, thanks for what you’ve done for the citizens of this city and your government. The general made a wise choice in bringing you on board.” He turns to Elisabeth as he puts his hat back on, then says with a slight bow, “Ma’am. You have a good day, too. Don’t let these fellas cause you any grief.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replies, laughing.
At the same time, Jacob gets up out of his chair to take his leave. Prior to going, he and Patrick agree to meet up soon for either lunch or dinner.
“Patrick,” Elisabeth says once they’re alone, looking directly into his eyes and reaching out to embrace him—gently around his left shoulder this time. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Let’s take the day off. We’ll picnic on the river, and you and Jimmy can fish.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mrs. Graham,” he responds.
And by now bright sunlight is streaming in through the windows.
* * *
The timing of their arrival at the river is not only fortuitous, but a step into a local historical event. At the foot of Jackson Street on the riverbank, Patrick, Elisabeth, and Jimmy stumble into the ceremony to launch the steamer Robert H. May, named in honor of the mayor. It would have been quite hard to miss. An animated crowd is gathered. In the meantime, word of the slaying of Adolphus Roads is spreading throughout the city, and the citizens are eager to share what they know—or think they know—with their neighbors.
Mayor May spots Patrick in the back of the crowd, and without giving it a second thought, walks straight over to him, passing by a number of people who reach out to congratulate the executive on the day’s honor. But at this moment, it is more important that May thank Patrick for the work he has done.
“Mr. Graham,” the mayor says, extending his hand, “on behalf of the citizens of Augusta, I want to thank and commend you for your actions last night. You have put to an end a sad chapter in the history of this city. Indeed, a single man—Roads—may have done more damage to the people and institutions here than the war itself.”
“Mayor, you are most kind,” Patrick replies, glancing briefly at Elisabeth and Jimmy, and knowing full well that their bravery, too, deserves to be commended. “There was a lot at stake, and I’m glad it’s over.”
“Sir, you will hold a place of honor in this city for the rest of your days.” The mayor reaches outward to take his arm. “Please, join me on the platform, so that you may be recognized before our fine citizens.”
“Oh, Mayor, I appreciate your sentiment, but I’d much prefer to take my family on a picnic today.”
“You don’t say? Well, I’m disappointed,” says the mayor, as he releases his grip.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your kindness, but I prefer that we put all of this in the past.”
“If that is your wish. Nonetheless, we are extremely proud of you, sir. So proud that I wish you to consider an appointment as chief of detectives in our police department. Our current chief is going to be spending his time explaining to a judge why he helped Mr. Roads run his business. But we’ll talk later.” He turns to Elisabeth and tips his hat. “Ma’am.” And then he looks down at Jimmy. “Fine son you’ve got there. Fine family.”
“Thank you, sir,” Patrick says, as May turns to go back up to the speakers’ platform.
“I think he was talking to me about Jimmy,” Elisabeth winks.
Blushing, Patrick can only shrug.
“He’s a nice man who does a lot of good for this city,” adds Elisabeth. “Without Roads being a constant thorn in his side, he’ll be able to do a lot more.”
“And chief of detectives. Impressive. How does that sound to you?” Patrick asks her.
“Well deserved,” she replies. “Though I imagine a lot of nights at home worrying.”
“After what you’ve been through, dear, you can handle anything.”
They turn their attention to the boat that is about to launch— indeed a fine honor for the mayor. It is decked out in bunting from bow to stern. One stack brandishes the name of the boat and another has the seal of the state of Georgia on it, complete with the motto “The Constitution, Wisdom, Justice, and Moderation.”
The vessel has already built up a literal head of steam, so when the speeches are over and everyone is aboard, Captain George Jackson and his crew of forty guide her down the ramp and into the river. The large craft brushes along the mud near the bank, but no damage is done in the process. In all, it’s quite a sight for young Jimmy to see. After the launch, Captain Jackson pulls out a bottle of old bourbon and offers toasts to the “success of the R.H. May and the prosperity of the investors.”
Patrick makes good on his words to the mayor and passes on the revelry, leading his little band a bit downstream to a quiet spot under a large oak tree. There they will at last have the rest of the day to themselves.
* * *
Sunday morning finds Patrick, Elisabeth, and Jimmy in church at Saint Paul’s. The morning air is crisp, and it carries with it a light breeze. The walk from Elisabeth’s house is invigorating. As much as this is a new day for the city, they are more acutely aware of the fact that it is a new day in their lives.
Even their seating in the sanctuary is new. No longer on a back bench with the visitors, today the three are gathered on Patrick’s recently purchased pew, like a family. It’s a fitting day to be in the church because the rector is absent and Jacob will be celebrating the service and preaching.
Patrick takes Elisabeth’s hand as he listens to the organ music that takes
to the air to welcome the congregation. He begins to privately reflect on how the war has touched everyone’s life in so many ways. The most significant thing to him is the family that he now has. The darkest is the loss of his mother.
At a rapid speed the city he has grown to love is once again prospering, but the plight of the Freedmen remains a burden. Negroes have been given freedom and hope, but for the time being whites are reluctant to fully embrace them.
Patrick’s wandering mind jolts back to the reality of the moment as the organist begins the opening hymn and the choir joins right in…
Glory to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thine own almighty wings.
Patrick is uplifted. From head to toe, he tingles with inspiration. He has found a sense of renewal in his spiritual life and is invigorated by the very words he is singing on this morning. He can count an abundance of blessings in his own life, and he personally knows of the protection those “almighty wings” provide.
When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heavenly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No powers of darkness me molest.
The days of darkness for Patrick, Elisabeth, and young Jimmy have passed. The nightmares of Patrick’s guilt have vanished. A bright and promising future awaits. And as each family in the church is being reborn in the grace of the Lord, so, too, is the South being reborn in a new life.
On the surface, Jacob’s message is one of redemption. But Patrick reads between the lines. He knows that Jacob is talking directly to him. For Patrick, personal redemption came about through the sacrifice he was willing to make to save Elisabeth and Jimmy. And, in discussing and demonstrating the power of faith, Jacob showed Patrick how to release at last the yoke of guilt he had carried for the deaths of his brother and later the cadets at New Market, and yes, even his mother.
Patrick looks up at his friend with a smile. No question about it, Jacob has been a valued friend, counselor, and colleague in an incredible adventure. No matter where their relationship heads from here, Patrick will forever cherish their friendship.
After the service, Jacob joins Patrick and Elisabeth as they visit with numerous members of the congregation in the churchyard. The smell of the air is charged with the honeysuckle growing over some of the nearby tombstones.
“I’m so glad to see you here this morning,” says Jacob.
“I’m glad I didn’t miss it.” Patrick smiles at Jacob in a knowing way. “Seems you had a message for me.”
“I’m glad you were listening. That’s more than most folks do during a sermon,” says Jacob, letting out a laugh.
Then, in true Jacob fashion, he pulls Patrick aside to share some information.
“Don’t you ever stop?” asks Patrick.
“No, not really. My work is far from finished,” responds Jacob in a deadpan manner. “But, I want to share with you what Major Allen told me before church today. General Wild has been arrested, and Captain Bryan has been ordered to disband his rump court.”
“That’s great news!” Patrick declares.
“The Freedmen’s Bureau is a fact of life, but the government is committed to reigning in the abuses.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” says Patrick.
“And we have some special guests in town today. President Davis and the other prisoners arrived in Augusta by special train this morning. They’re going to be put on a steamer at Sand Bar Ferry Landing to be taken to Savannah.”
Patrick’s eyes widen in an expression of discovery, not unlike that of a child encountering his presents on Christmas morning. “So that’s what all the excitement is down at the dock this morning— getting the boat ready?” he asks.
“Oh, this is well-orchestrated. Lieutenant Colonel Pritchard is leading a detail of three officers and twenty men to take the prisoners to Washington City. And, according to Major Allen, his orders come directly from Secretary Stanton. Prichard was directed to seize every means to prevent rescue and escape and to treat Davis as he would any other prisoner.”
“Pritchard? Isn’t he the one who caught Davis in South Georgia?” Patrick asks.
“Sure was. Though he confesses the capture by his Fourth Michigan Cavalry was a surprise even to him,” answers Jacob.
As the men speak, Elisabeth steps over and tugs on Patrick’s coat.
“Patrick, there…in the street. Look. It’s quite a commotion,” she says.
Patrick turns and looks.
“Pastor, please join us. Looks like the Union’s guests have arrived,” observes Patrick.
The clopping of horse hooves—many of them—and the clanging of metal fittings reverberates off the buildings and trees, announcing the arrival of the entourage.
Patrick, Elisabeth, and Jimmy fall in with the rest of the congregation, all of whom take a hasty walk across the churchyard to Reynolds Street. Jacob lifts Jimmy up on his shoulders so he can see above the taller men in hats.
As word spreads to others leaving services at other churches in the city, the crowd along the street continues to grow. Lots of negroes are arriving, too. They are running and rushing down the street from every direction, all to get a glimpse of the men who dedicated their lives to keeping them in slavery.
It’s easy enough to spot the Davis family carriage. The shades are drawn and a troop of cavalry surrounds it. The riders fan out to push the gathering crowd back off the street.
While passing by the stately Episcopal Church building, a denomination he embraced while president, Davis parts the curtains and removes his hat in deference.
Someone on the street shouts, “It’s the President!”
Another: “Yessir, it’s Jeff Davis hisself.”
In general, though, the crowd shows Davis very little sign of recognition. A few men lift their hats in respect as his carriage passes. Some women release somber tears. A couple of ladies even faint. As for Davis, he looks nervous and restless. After his month on the run, he shows ample signs of being haggard and worn. He has lost not only his cause, but also his freedom.
His carriage is followed by others, carrying Mrs. Davis’ sister, Alabama Senator and Mrs. Clement Clay, Postmaster Reagan, General Frank Lubbock, General Wheeler, and other prominent staff members. And Vice-President Stephens.
Jacob turns to Patrick: “Stephens arrived on a separate train.”
Patrick observes, “Should come as no surprise he wants to stay clear of Davis. What did the president ever do for him?”
It is Stephens with whom Patrick feels a personal affinity. After all, he traveled with him to Hampton Roads and visited with him at Liberty Hall. Seeing the small and frail-looking statesman reduced to the status of criminal is a hard thing for Patrick to digest. Of the entire lot Patrick feels that it was Stephens who did more to support the institutions in the South than any of the others. He saw the war for what it was—a systematic means of destroying Southern life, property, and resources.
As the carriage passes by the crowd, Stephens looks out the window in the direction of the church. For a moment, Patrick’s eyes meet those of Stephens, and there is a fleeting instance of recognition. Thinking fast, Patrick comes to attention and offers a hand salute of respect. Stephens smiles in acknowledgement, then turns his head back into the carriage. The crowds begin to disperse as the entourage passes out of sight, proceeding onward on its three-mile trip to the dock.
“Pastor, come join us for lunch. Elisabeth’s cooking,” offers Patrick, having recovered from the moment with a wide, infectious smile.
“Oh, really?” injects Elisabeth, playfully bumping his bandaged arm.
“Ouch!” feigns Patrick, exaggerating the pain as he makes a face to get Jimmy laughing.
The scenery along the river is a thing of brilliance. Summer has begun to bloom with all of Mother Nature’s force behind it. The renewal of life has never been
more evident. Clearly, the city and the South have both turned a page and will never be the same ever again.
Such is especially true for Patrick Graham and his new family.
To learn more about the events, places and people described in this book, the author suggests the following:
An Honorable Defeat: The Last Days of the Confederate Government, William C. Davis
Flight Into Oblivion, A. J. Hanna
Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia: A Biography, Thomas E. Schott
A Guide Book of Southern States Currency, Hugh Shull State of Georgia Treasury Notes, Treasury Certificates & Bonds, W. Mack Martin & Kenneth S. Latimer
The on line archive of the Chronicle & Sentinel (www.augustachronicle.com)
The War-Time Journal of a Georgia Girl, 1864-1865, Eliza Frances Andrews
The War of Rebellion: The Official Records
Carpetbagger of Conscience: A Biography of John Emory Bryant, Ruth Currie-McDaniel
Edward A. Wild and the African Brigade in the Civil War, Frances H. Casstevens
The History of Wilkes County, Georgia, Robert M. Willingham, Jr.
The New Market Campaign, Edward Raymond Turner
Never for Want of Powder: The Confederate Powder Works in Augusta,
Georgia, C. L. Bragg, Charles D. Ross, Gordon A. Blaker, Stephanie A. T. Jacobe, and Theodore R. Savas
“The Treasure Train” is the first novel by Emmy nominee Bob Young, former Mayor of Augusta, Ga. During a distinguished broadcast career, Bob produced the acclaimed documentaries “The Great March,” about General Sherman’s infamous march through Georgia, and chronicled Dwight Eisenhower’s membership at Augusta National Golf Club in “Ike’s Augusta” for Spartan Communications. While serving an appointment by President George W. Bush on the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, Bob provided the leadership to create the Preserve America Communities Program and was honored for his work in preservation and heritage tourism with the national leadership award from the History Channel. Currently Bob and his wife Gwen spend their time between homes in Augusta and Beaufort, SC. To reach the author: eaglevets@comcast.net