“I am in your debt, Major. You have not misplaced your trust.”
“Tell me something, Mr. Langdon. Once you’ve reached Mapletown, do you plan on going south again?”
“Yes, sir, I do. I intend to do what I can until slavery is gone from existence.”
The major smiled and said, “You were born with more than your share of courage, I’ll give you that. I guess we all fight in our own way for what we believe in. Good luck to you.”
“Thank you, Major.” The three men picked for the escort helped James and Israel unload the horse and wagon. Although none of the soldiers did or said anything out of line, James had the distinct feeling that to them, his Georgia accent made him a Rebel in spite of his worthy intentions. They were helpful but not exactly cordial.
James never felt better than he did when the Mapletown Community Church came into view.
FOURTEEN
A Tale of Two Weddings
Reverend Pyle happily verified James’s story for the three soldiers and they were on their way. “It’s wonderful to see you again, James. I see that you have a young lady with you this time. Will she be going back to Georgia when you leave?”
“No, Reverend. There is nothing left for her in Georgia and it might not be safe for her to go there. I intend to find a place for her to live here in Mapletown, and I also intend to ask her to be my wife.”
“I think that’s wonderful, James. Does this mean that you will be settling down?”
“If you mean am I finished going south, the answer is not yet. I will stay for a while, but eventually I will be leaving again.”
“Far be it from me to stand in the way of such a noble cause, James, but you know this war may eradicate slavery in time.”
“I pray that it does, Reverend. But for now, there are still many people suffering. My only other concern right now is Polly. I have enough money for her to live on for quite a while. When my work is finished there will be time for us.”
Until Reverend Pyle could make the arrangements to send Israel, Emaline, and the children on to Canada, they were all made comfortable in the room beneath the church. James asked the reverend if Polly could spend a day or two at the parsonage until a house could be rented. He was told that it would be no problem finding room for both of them.
It was a Friday evening in early August and the weather was very hot, but the humidity was very low. When supper was finished, James asked Polly to go for a stroll. As they walked hand in hand along Main Street, he reflected on the past four months and found it difficult to believe all that had happened. He thought about the trips he’d made, the close calls he’d had, and how easily the world could now be without him. But on that peaceful evening, in the middle of all that was going on, it was as if he’d found a place that was protected from any kind of threat. It would be so easy for him to marry Polly, go to Canada with Israel and Emaline, and let the devil take the rest of the world. But he discovered in the beginning that he had a purpose in life, a pledge to fulfill and he couldn’t just walk away no matter how much he wanted to. James felt that God had guided him so far, and he would continue on, regardless of the end result. That was the measure of his faith and trust. In the meantime, he would secure for himself a true personal reason for facing up to the challenges that life had earmarked for him.
When they reached a quiet spot on the edge of town beneath a spreading chestnut tree, James guided Polly to a public bench and asked her to sit.
“My father once told me that for some men, the instant they meet the right woman, their destiny becomes something over which they have no control. I guess he knew this because it is exactly what happened when he met my mother. Now I understand what he meant because it happened to me the first day I saw you at Baxter’s. I believe that telling you that I love you is now a formality. It is something that you already know. So I will set aside the formality and ask you if you will marry me so that destiny may have its way.”
At first Polly seemed to be overcome with emotion. Then she locked her fingers around his neck, kissed him and said, “Never let it be said that I stood in the way of destiny. This moment is like a dream come true.”
They sat for a while longer, immersed in that most pleasant of conversations, that of young people in love; conversation about the future, children, and a home.
After a while they returned to the parsonage to speak to the reverend about their intentions. “I would be delighted to marry you,” said the reverend. “There is something else that I want to ask the two of you. What would you say to a double wedding?”
“Double wedding?” James asked him.
“Yes. I am sending Israel, Emaline, and the children on their way Sunday night. They asked me to marry them before they leave. You know that they have never had the chance before. They’ll need witnesses and so will you. Why not stand up for each other?” James and Polly looked at each other and nodded in unison. “Splendid,” said the reverend. “Then it is all settled. On Sunday evening we’ll have a quiet ceremony at the church.”
That night James could not sleep as a child cannot sleep on Christmas Eve. He simply could not quell the excitement he felt inside. There was, however, one undeniable damper. The wedding would not be entirely as he wished. He would never have believed that such a special day in his life would not include his family. He imagined how hurt his parents and his sisters would be if they knew they were missing such an event. James missed them all very much and the feeling seemed to be magnified by the circumstances. He worried about his parents’ health, especially since his last visit. It hadn’t been since the day he first left home that he’d seen Ashton and Kate. He found himself cursing the war that he believed to be a punishment for slavery. And slavery, besides being the most evil practice ever conceived by the mind of man, had put him at odds with his father. Then, he remembered, if not for both of those things, he probably never would have met Polly. He remembered the saying: when God closes a door he opens a window.
On Saturday morning he found a lovely furnished house for rent not far from the church. It was small but in very good condition; just perfect for a newlywed couple. If not for certain circumstances, James felt that he could live there happily ever after. Except for his family he did not miss Georgia, which surprised him greatly. He was beginning to grow quite fond of the quaint little town, already thinking of it as the place where he was married. Only one more day and it would become reality.
On Sunday morning, James became obsessed with time. The clock became his enemy as the more he coaxed it the slower it seemed to move. But everyone involved had to be careful and quiet because, aside from the reverend and his wife, only James and Polly knew that the slaves were hiding in the church. Maybe there was no slavery in the North, but still most whites did not see blacks as equals and thus they had no sympathy or tolerance for them. If word got out that a white couple and a black couple were to be married at the same ceremony, it could cause trouble.
At eight o’clock that evening, they were all assembled in the church. The intended couples took their places, Mrs. Pyle kept a vigil at the window, and the children watched from the front pew.
Reverend Pyle performed a lovely service, and by eight-thirty everyone was helping the slaves, who were at last a real family, prepare for the trip to Canada. It was a difficult parting, for all they’d been through had forged a friendship. Emaline promised to write so that everyone would know how they were doing.
At half past nine, Reverend Pyle’s friend was behind the church with his covered wagon and the happy couples exchanged their final farewells. To Israel and Emaline, James said, “There is something that has bothered me for the longest time and I must dispose of it before you leave. Ever since I met Israel, the only reference to your son that I have ever heard is, ‘boy.’ It’s gotten to the point that I have accepted it as his name. So let me ask you now, what do you call your son?”
The couple looked at each other for a minute and then Israel said, “When dat boy got born we
never did give him no name. If you is born a slave you is nuthin and all you ever gonna be is nuthin. It don’t matter if you jes call something what it be so maybe you jes call a dog a dog. So we jes call him boy cause dats what he be.” James immediately understood the full meaning of Israel’s explanation and he felt ashamed. He realized how sad it was that a race of human beings could be put so far down that it didn’t even seem important to them to name their children.
“I am sorry,” said James. “I didn’t mean to cause you any pain today of all days.”
“It’s all right, James,” said Emaline. “We know without doubt that it is through no fault of a wonderful man like you. Hopefully it will ease your mind to know that Israel and I talked about this very thing last night. From this day on our son has a name that he can be proud of. We called him James.”
An uncomfortable moment had been turned into joy and James was deeply moved by the honor. He extended his hand to the young man and said, “I am pleased to meet you, James.”
The boy offered his small hand in return and he replied, “Thank you for my mama, my sister, and my name.”
The wagon rolled away; James and Polly watched until it was out of sight. Then they said goodnight to Mr. and Mrs. Pyle and strolled arm in arm up the street to their little house.
FIFTEEN
A True Taste of War
For the next few months James settled into married life, and for a while he was so preoccupied that he nearly put all other things out of his mind. He even went so far as to take a part-time job at the bank in Mapletown. Nevertheless, he kept telling Polly that when spring came he would be going south again.
Christmas came and went for the first time without seeing his family in Georgia. James wrote a very long letter giving many false reasons why he couldn’t be there and the gesture only made him feel worse. Polly was a wonderful wife and she understood his anxiety, especially since it was her first Christmas without her mother. But the love and happiness they shared was enough to keep them content.
In March l862, the war was in its second year. The two dormant armies had come to life again and they were on the move. There was fighting in Strasburg, Kernstown, and many other places in Virginia. Then, in early April, a colossal battle at Shiloh, Tennessee cost the lives of almost twenty-four thousand soldiers. It was constantly becoming more dangerous to travel from North to South and back.
James knew that Polly had so much respect for him that she would never attempt to sway his judgment. He knew that she hid the deep fear she felt for his safety and secretly wished that he would decide to stay with her in Mapletown. It was not to be, however, and on April 25th, James quit his job at the bank and was preparing to leave.
He knew that leaving Polly would be extremely difficult and when the moment came he nearly caved in. “I know you understand why I must go,” he told her. “There are matters that must be put right before this country can move forward. It is a huge undertaking and I cannot be at peace with myself until I know that I have done my part. I believe that you’ll be safe here and that is the thought that enables me to go.”
“I do understand, James, and I will keep your home and I will be here each time you return. Then one day, when all is right, you will never leave me again.”
Then they held each other tightly, exchanged endearments, and James mounted Star and turned her south.
As Polly watched after him she wondered if she was making a mistake. Although she believed it wrong to say anything that might have caused James to abandon his principals, was she just as wrong for not telling him the real reason she wanted him to stay.
A few miles from Mapletown, James left the road, traveling over hill and hollow until he reached Virginia. Avoiding patrols from either army was essential because both sides were highly suspicious of anyone who wasn’t in uniform. On this trip his first priority was to make his way back to Georgia and visit his family. The war had not yet seriously damaged the Deep South, if it ever would; the only real effect was from the Union blockade. And who could say how long it would take for that move to weaken the Confederacy’s ability to wage war. All things considered, James was expecting to find everything in reasonable order at home.
For three days he traveled along the western border of Virginia encountering no opposition along the way. By the evening of April 28th he had crossed into Kentucky, and by nightfall he decided to make camp near Cumberland Gap. After a night’s rest, his plan was to head into Tennessee toward Chattanooga, then continue south into Georgia.
The night was very peaceful and it was not at all difficult to imagine there was no war going on. As he waited for sleep to take over, he thought about his parents, his sisters, and how anxious he was to see them. Naturally, he thought about Polly. After having been with her for several months, the separation was already causing a serious longing in his heart. He wished she were with him . . . he wished she could meet his family.
By and by, sleep interrupted his thoughts and he drifted off with the fire burning brightly. By morning it had died out but for a spiral of smoke still rising from the ashes. James awoke with a start.
“Rise and shine, mister,” said the man dressed in butternut. He sat up and looked around at the grim, bearded faces. There were eight of them in all and none of them were wearing shoes or hats; their uniforms were dirty and full of holes. The man who had awakened him seemed to be in charge. “Who the hell are you and what’s your business here?” he demanded. If nothing else, James was getting used to that same old question and he immediately resumed the practice of withholding his real name. “My name is Sterling Hargraves and I’m just passing through on my way to Georgia.”
“Georgia, huh? You a deserter?”
“No. I’m not in the army. I’ve been working as a slave catcher. It’s big business these days.”
“I reckon it is for sure, but there ain’t no time to be worryin about them rich plantation owners now. Let em run down their niggers their own selves. We need to be worryin about killin Yankees right now. Ifen we run across a nigger we jus shoot him dead and leave him lay.”
There was a noticeable tone of unfriendliness in the man’s voice. James guessed that he was irritated by the fact that James wasn’t in the army. He decided to try a little levity to ease the tension. “From what I’ve heard, our armies are given the Yanks all they can handle.”
“What do ya mean our armies?” snapped the disgruntled soldier. “You ain’t in the army, remember? You are runnin around fillin your pockets whilst we is getting shot at and figurin ourselves lucky if we can do it on a full belly. But I reckon you’ll be gettin a taste of it now.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meanin you’ll be comin with us. Our camp is jus a short piece from here. We smelt your smoke and the major sent us over here to either shoot whoever we found or bring em back to camp. Lucky for you you’re a Georgia boy. And since you ain’t in the army you can bet you’re gonna get your chance to join up.”
Then the soldier pointed at Star and said, “Our captain had his horse shot out from under him two days ago. He’s gonna be real happy when I tell him I found him another.”
Once again, James was disarmed and forced to walk ahead of his captors about a quarter of a mile to the Confederate camp. It was indeed a dismal turn of events. For the time being, he decided the best thing he could do was to cooperate and see what developed. Maybe the commanding officer would be more reasonable and James could talk his way out of the situation. However, when he was taken before Major Samuel Rodgers, commanding the infantry detachment of the Army of the Mississippi under General P.G.T. Beauregard, James quickly realized that he wasn’t going to talk his way out of anything.
The major was a middle aged man with cold blue eyes and a stern disposition. He was easily six feet tall with broad shoulders and the left sleeve of his uniform coat was empty from the elbow down. James sensed that losing the arm had a great deal to do with the major’s demeanor as his frustration with the difficulty caused by
the missing limb was obvious. When he spoke it was through gritted teeth as if speaking was an effort and he’d rather if others could simply read his mind. As a result, he spoke quickly using short sentences.
“How old are you, boy?”
“Almost twenty-one, sir.”
“You heard of the new draft law?”
“No, sir, I haven’t.”
“Explain it to him, Sergeant,” he said to the soldier who had escorted James to the tent.
“President Davis just approved a Congressional proposal that requires a military draft in the Confederate States. The law says that all persons livin in the Confederate States betwixt the ages of eighteen and thirty-five will be held to be in the military service and that means you, Georgia boy.”
“What’s your name, boy?” asked the major.
“Sterling Hargraves, sir.”
“It’s Private Hargraves now. Go with the sergeant. He’ll see to your needs.” James stood and stared at the major, completely dumbfounded.
“You’ve been given an order, Private! It is customary to render a salute.”
James raised his right hand over his right eye then dropped it after the major executed the same. Then he turned and walked out ahead of the sergeant. Once outside, he was directed to a supply wagon and instructed to remove his shirt and trousers. “What for?” James asked.
“Cause you’re one of us now, Georgia boy, and you gotta look like one of us.” The sergeant climbed into the wagon and after a few minutes of rooting through a large trunk, he jumped down and handed James a gray flannel shirt, a butternut jacket, and trousers to match. “This was Shelby Jenkins’s uniform. He was about your size. Poor Shelby took a ball through the heart a couple days ago. New uniforms is hard to come by so we been keepin some from our dead in case we pick up a new recruit like you. You already got a hat and what appears to be a mighty fine pair of boots. That makes you better dressed than most of us. But we all is lookin to get some new footwear tomorrow.”
A Deeper Sense of Loyalty Page 15