Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga)

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Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga) Page 71

by Gilbert, Morris


  Rooney had said almost nothing during breakfast, but she followed him so that the two of them were standing on a small patio just outside the dining room. It was very early, the crimson rays of the rising sun casting a glow over the landscape. She looked across to the field where the balloon wagons were outlined and said abruptly, “Lowell, I should be the one to go up.”

  That was when he’d stared at her and stated flatly, “You’re not going up in the balloon, and that’s final!”

  Rooney shook her head, the action swaying her curls. “I thought about it all last night. If you’re up in the gondola, what would happen if something goes wrong on the ground?”

  “Nothing will go wrong!”

  “Something went wrong yesterday.”

  Lowell flushed but shook his head stubbornly. “That won’t happen again.” He thought of the end of the flight, when the slaves had grown confused as a gust had shoved the balloon to one side. Several of them had dropped their ropes, which caused the remaining slaves to be dragged off their feet. The balloon would have gotten away if Lowell had not acted quickly to get extra help on the lines.

  “It might,” Rooney insisted. “And what if something happens and you get hurt?”

  “What if you got hurt?”

  “Why, if I got hurt, the balloon can still be used for the army to help General Longstreet. But if you broke your leg or something, it’s all over. It’ll all have been for nothing.”

  Lowell stared at her with consternation. He was a logical young man and realized that there was some logic to what she was saying. But he had set his heart on going up, and he didn’t give up easily.

  The argument went on in one fashion or another until ten o’clock, the time for the launch. At one point Lowell had said flatly, “Rooney, I don’t want to hear any more!”

  He spoke roughly and saw that his tone hurt her, but she had merely said, “I think you’re wrong, Lowell. When you get somebody trained to do the work on the ground, you should go up. But you haven’t done that.”

  The balloon was filled, and the crowd, much smaller this time, was composed of the slaves, who would work the ropes, and the family, who stood watching. They knew this flight would be with a passenger, and there was a tension in the air as Lowell put his hand on the basket and stood there for a moment.

  Rooney stood beside Buck, saying nothing, and was shocked when without warning Lowell turned and said, “All right, Rooney. You win. Get into the basket!”

  Susanna gasped. “He’s sending that…that child up in that thing,” she said angrily to no one in particular. “What’s he thinking of?”

  Rooney looked at Lowell’s face, saw the disappointment etched on it, and said, “I know you want to go, Lowell,” she whispered so that only he could hear, “but I think this is best.”

  Lowell shrugged, saying only, “Well, you got your way. Now get into the basket.” She thought he was angry, but as she slipped inside, he suddenly grinned. “I’m a bad loser, Rooney!” And she felt a warm feeling for him.

  She would have spoken, but he stepped back and nodded at Josh, who stood beside the gas machine, calling out, “Let her go, Josh!”

  Rooney stood in the fragile wicker basket, watching as the bag began to swell. Soon it was a small mound, and then it swung upright. She stared upward at the swaying canopy and then heard Lowell call out, “Let go—slowly, now!”

  The basket jerked, causing her to grab wildly at the rim, but then there was a smoothness, and she knew she was separated from earth!

  Fascinated, she watched as the figures grew smaller. She could see the anxiety on the faces of the Rocklins—and the envy in the countenances of Buck and Josh.

  Up, up she went, until the people looked very small. They look like dolls! she thought with pleasure. There was no fear, and when Lowell called out, “Are you all right?” she leaned over and waved at him.

  “I’m fine!” she called back. “Let it go higher!”

  For the next hour Rooney was ecstatic. She called out what she could see, her voice faint but clear to those below. “I can see the river—and there’s the Chapman farm—and, oh, there’s a mail rider coming! He must be five miles away, but I can see him!”

  When Lowell finally brought the balloon down, Rooney leaped out and in her excitement grabbed his arm. Her eyes were flashing as she cried, “It’s wonderful! You can see everything!”

  Lowell stood there with the rest, listening as Rooney spoke, and when he finally was able to get a word in, he said wistfully, “It sounds great, Rooney.”

  Rooney stared at him, realizing what a sacrifice it had been for the young man to let her take his place. Instantly she said, “I know how much you wanted to go up, Lowell. Now let’s get everything straight about what to do on the ground.” She wanted to please him and added, “I’ll bet we can settle that today; then you can go up last thing this afternoon!”

  Lowell’s face brightened, and he laughed out loud. “Lord help the man who gets you, Rooney Smith! You’ll have him jumping through hoops!”

  Susanna had moved closer, and now she saw the two young people standing close together. She noted the sweet expression on Rooney’s face and saw Lowell suddenly laugh and reach out to pat her shoulder.

  A smile touched the lips of Susanna Rocklin, and she nodded to herself as an idea touched her mind. As she turned away, she thought, I wish you were here to see this, Thomas.

  CHAPTER 10

  CAMP MEETING

  General Silas Able looked up at the young private who’d somehow managed to get past his aide. “Well, Private, what is it?”

  Lowell Rocklin said quickly, “General, I know you’re busy, but I’ve been working on the balloon that General Longstreet wanted to see made.”

  “Oh…yes, I remember. The general mentioned the balloon to me in a correspondence when I came to the corps.” General Able’s division had been serving in Tennessee, but Lee requested his presence in Virginia. General Longstreet had been sent southeast to lay siege to Suffolk, Virginia, and Able was his replacement. He resembled Longstreet in appearance, being a blunt man in form as well as manners. He had heavy features, a high domed forehead over a pair of level blue eyes. A full beard and heavy mustache covered the lower part of his face, and he looked durable as stone. “What’s your name, Private?”

  “Private Lowell Rocklin, General. My father, brother, and I are in the Richmond Grays, serving under General Jackson.”

  General Able nodded and demanded bluntly, “And this balloon—you’ve actually got one?”

  “Oh yes, sir. It’s ready to go. And I’d guess that there’ll be a chance to use it pretty soon.”

  The general’s eyes glinted with humor. “You don’t have to be very smart to see that the army’s getting ready to move out.”

  “No, sir.”

  Chewing on the stub of a cigar, General Able considered Lowell. His mind was filled with the ten thousand details that generals must attend to. But Able tried to put those things behind him as the prospect of what a balloon would mean to the Army of Northern Virginia played in his mind. “I’d like to see what you’ve done, Private. Where is it?”

  “Outside the camp, sir,” Lowell said eagerly. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted the troops to see it. It’s down by the east road, near where the cavalry’s stationed.”

  Able nodded and turned to his aide. “Jenkins, I’m going with this man. I should be back in a couple of hours.” He mounted his large bay, and the two men rode through the center of the camp. It was a beehive of activity, and Lowell kept silence, awed by being in the company of such a high-ranking officer. But General Able began asking questions, and soon he’d discovered a great deal about Lowell. Able was an officer who liked to know his men as well as possible and was impressed at the ingenuity and drive of this young private.

  “Your wound still bothering you, Private?” he asked, his sharp eyes taking in an artillery unit being prodded by a loud lieutenant.

  “No, sir, hardly at all,” Lowell
said quickly. “I’m able to rejoin my regiment, but I thought I might do more good working with the balloon.”

  “If you can give us the Yankees’ position, you’ll certainly be useful. What’s it like up there?”

  “Oh, General, it’s fun!” Lowell flushed, then said, “I know that’s not what it’s for, but it’s the closest thing to flying there is, and I guess all of us have watched the birds and wished we could do what they do.”

  “I suppose so. Can you see a long way?”

  “Why, sir, it’s amazing!” Lowell began to describe the things that could be seen, and General Able listened carefully. One of the most difficult problems of a commander was finding out what was happening. The only method available was the courier, but that was slow and often inefficient. The courier had to make his way to some point of the battle, where he might get killed. If he didn’t get killed, he had to be intelligent enough to grasp the details of the battle. He often had to find an officer who was wounded or dead or who had moved to another part of the field. Then, after gathering his information, he had to make his way back to his commander and deliver the message. But by that time the situation usually had changed completely.

  “God knows we need some help with intelligence,” the general said when Lowell paused. “We’re going to have to do all we can to stop the Yankees.”

  “We can do it, sir!”

  General Able glanced at the open face of the young man and hoped that the rest of the army was as confident. “That’s the way to talk, Private,” he said with a nod.

  As the two rode along, the general spoke of the importance of getting information in battle, and Lowell absorbed it all. By the time the two of them pulled up beside the two wagons, Lowell had learned more than most knew about the battle to come. “I know we can help you, General!” He swung off his mount, followed by the general, and gestured. “There it is, sir!”

  General Able stared at the wagons, which looked much like any other wagons—except for the solid high sides on one of them. Turning to Lowell, he said, “I guess I expected to see the thing all ready to fly. How long will it take to get it up in the air?”

  “Oh, about an hour, sir, but we’ll have to have some men to hold it down.”

  “I can commandeer whatever you need. I’d like to see how the thing works.”

  “Yes, sir!” Lowell motioned to Rooney, saying, “Let’s get started—” And then he realized that Able was staring at the girl, as were many of the soldiers who were in the area. “Oh, this is Miss Rooney Smith. Miss Smith, General Silas Able.”

  Able removed his cigar, then his hat. “I’m happy to meet you, Miss Smith.” He studied the girl, noting that she was wearing a man’s clothing—a pair of brown trousers and a white shirt. They fit her loosely, but her slim figure left no doubt as to her sex. “I didn’t know we’d have such an attractive young lady on our staff.”

  Rooney colored and said, “I’m just a helper, General.”

  “Don’t believe that, sir,” Lowell stated quickly. “There wouldn’t even be a balloon if it weren’t for her!”

  General Able listened carefully as the young soldier related how getting the silk had been the young woman’s idea and then said, “Well now, that’s the way our Southern ladies are, always able to find a way to do what has to be done.”

  Lowell and Rooney quickly prepared the balloon. General Able simply pointed at ten cavalrymen, and they leaped at the chance to help Rooney spread out the canopy. As she kept them from trampling on it in their eagerness, Lowell worked on the gas-generating machinery. General Able stood right beside him, his sharp eyes taking in every move.

  Finally Lowell called out, “Rooney, let’s fill it.” Then he directed the cavalrymen, showing them how to hold the ropes. He turned the valve, saying, “General, would you hold this valve open so I can give a hand with the balloon?”

  “Of course.”

  General Able stood there, his hand on the valve, watching carefully. If this thing would only work! Finally he saw the balloon right itself and rise ten feet into the air. Lowell called out, “Shut the valve, General.” And when the general shut the valve, Lowell grinned. “Be glad to have you come with me, sir!”

  General Able was tempted but knew that Lee would have a heart attack if one of his officers did such a risky thing. “I’ll stay here, Private,” he answered, a smile hidden behind his beard.

  “You fellows do just what Miss Smith tells you,” Lowell said. As he got into the gondola he heard one of them say, “Thet little lady kin tell me to do anythang!”

  Then at Lowell’s command the balloon rose, with Rooney directing the men. It soared high into the air, and when it was about seventy-five feet in the air, Lowell called out, “I can see your camp, General! And there’s a long line of wagons coming in from the south.”

  General Able was convinced. He stood there listening as Lowell described everything within a five-mile radius. When the young man called for Rooney to bring him down, Able was standing right beside the gondola. A cheer went up as he shook Lowell’s hand, and he turned to see what seemed to be Jeb Stuart’s entire cavalry surrounding them. They were waving their hats and calling out, “Just show us where the Yankees are, soldier!”

  “Come along, Sergeant Rocklin,” General Able said and saw the surprise in the young man’s face. “General Longstreet informed me that he promised to make you a sergeant if this contraption worked. You’ve done a great thing, and I want to let General Lee hear about it.”

  “Yes, sir!” Lowell suddenly remembered Rooney and said, “But I’ll have to help Miss Smith put the balloon to bed.”

  “Looks like she has plenty of volunteers,” General Able remarked. “But you come to camp tomorrow—and bring her with you. Bring this thing with you, too. I want General Lee to see it in action.”

  As General Able rode away, Lowell made his way to Rooney. She was surrounded by a close-packed ring of rangy, sunburned troopers who were all trying to speak to her.

  “Now, men, let Miss Smith get her work done,” Lowell said firmly.

  A tall sergeant turned to him scowling. “Hey, jine the cavalry, you duck-footed infantry!” Lowell bristled and would have made an argument out of it, but Rooney intervened.

  “Thanks, Sergeant, for your help. I hope you’ll be around when we go up to spot the Yankees.”

  Dazzled by the bright eyes of Rooney, the soldier capitulated. “Wal now, if you ever cut loose from this feller, miss, you can be our balloon lady, can’t she, boys?”

  A shout went up, and finally the sergeant herded his squad back to their campground. “Blasted fellow didn’t have to be so—so familiar!” Lowell fumed. “You’d better watch out for these soldiers, Rooney. They’re a bad lot.”

  “You’re a soldier,” she replied. In fact, she had enjoyed the teasing of the men, for they were nice, not like others she had known. A thought came to her, and she gave him a quick glance. “You’re not jealous, are you, Lowell?”

  “Jealous! Why, don’t be silly!” Lowell threw his head back and drew his lips tightly together. “I’m responsible for you, and I’m going to see that nothing happens to you. Jealous!” He snorted and turned to begin taking the balloon down. She watched him for a moment; then her lips turned upward as she smiled.

  They camped that night where they were. Lowell told Rooney, “Better get a good night’s sleep. No telling how hard we’ll have to travel when the army moves against the Yankees.”

  But they didn’t get an early sleep, for the tall sergeant came over to say, “You two religious folks?”

  Lowell was surprised and grunted half angrily, “You think we’re heathens? Of course we’re religious!”

  The sergeant grinned at Lowell’s indignation. “Revival goin’ on. Stonewall’s sure to be there. Pretty good preacher, too—just a little heavy on the fire and brimstone.” He looked at Rooney and said innocently to Lowell, “If you’re too busy, I’ll be happy to escort the lady to the meetin’.”

  “I�
��ll see to the lady, Sergeant!” Lowell said stiffly. After the cavalryman left, he turned to Rooney and asked, “Do you want to go?”

  “Yes, but not in these clothes.” Rooney turned and disappeared into the wagon. Lowell secured the gear in the gasgenerating wagon and, when he was finished, found that Rooney was waiting for him.

  “You…you look very nice,” he said abruptly. She was wearing a light green dress with a white collar and lace on the sleeves. It fit her snugly, and he added, “Pretty dress.”

  “It’s one of Rena’s,” Rooney said, smoothing the sleeve with her hand. “I didn’t think of bringing a dress, but she told me I might need one. She’s so nice!”

  “Sure is. Well, let’s get to the meeting.”

  They were soon among the crowds of soldiers hurrying to an open field, where they found a place near the wagon that had been converted into a pulpit of sorts. The soldiers formed ranks around the speaker’s platform, and Lowell suddenly nudged Rooney, whispering, “There’s Stonewall!”

  Rooney turned to catch a glimpse of the famous warrior, and as chance would have it, he turned at that moment. His eyes were the palest blue that she had ever seen, and they fastened on her. Able was standing beside Jackson, and seeing Stonewall looking at Rooney, he leaned closer and said something to him. Stonewall nodded and said something to a young major beside him. Instantly the young officer turned toward Rooney and started across the open space.

  “Miss Smith, General Jackson would be pleased if you and the sergeant would join him for the service.”

  Rooney gasped and looked wildly at Lowell. He took her arm firmly, saying, “Thank you, Major. We’d be honored.” Stepping out, he towed Rooney toward the officer, whispering, “Come on, Rooney! We’ll never get a chance like this again.” When they reached the generals, he dropped Rooney’s arm and saluted smartly. “Sergeant Lowell Rocklin, General, and this is Miss Rooney Smith.”

 

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