Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

by T. Novan

  Reverend Williams and I discussed the christening of Charlie Junior and we decided it would be all right to wait for the birth of the next baby and your return home. Also, more of my fight to drive Mrs. Williams insane, I asked Reverend Williams if we could take the Gaines name off our pew and replace it with Redmond and he said he certainly did not see a problem with it. I thought for sure she would pass out. Unfortunately, she did not.

  I am sorry to report that the next time I write, there will probably be both good and bad news. I’m sure I will be telling you of our next child, and of Constance’s passing. I have arranged for her to have a plot in the church cemetery.

  Be well and be safe my love. Wishing you home.

  Eternally yours,

  Rebecca

  Charlie read Rebecca’s eagerly, until he got to the bittersweet news of Constance’s condition. He folded his letters and went in search of Elizabeth.

  He tapped on her tent flap and waited.

  "Come in."

  "Good evening, Elizabeth. Do you have a few minutes?"

  "Of course, Charlie. I am just making some tea from my hidden supply. Would you join me?"

  Charlie nodded as he settled himself on a heavy case in the corner of her tent. The silence continued as Elizabeth prepared the tea and handed him a mug of steaming fluid.

  "So, what has you so moody? Orders you are not happy with?"

  He shook his head. "Rebecca wrote about Constance." He sat there slumped over his tea. Elizabeth waited for him to continue. Finally, he spoke. "Why does she have to die, Elizabeth?"

  "Because she became pregnant at a time when her body was not healthy enough to sustain both her and the baby."

  "Yes, but why? Why did Montgomery go all vicious; why did we do this to ourselves? Why are we doing everything we can to keep food from men who are probably starving?"

  "Because," she took a seat next to him and took his hand, " that is the nature of war, Charlie. You know that. Good men lose their minds and soldiers do what they must to end the conflict."

  Charlie shook his head. "It is just so senseless. That a lovely and loving woman like Constance should give her life because of the stupidity of men who would not or could not find a rational, civilized solution. So we have brother fighting brother, women and children dying, men left with nothing but rags and rage. I cannot do it any more, Elizabeth. I just cannot." Charlie buried his head in his hands. In a small, choked voice he cried in the night, "I just want to go home."

  She sat there for a moment, then leaned over and put her arms around him. "You will very soon, Charlie. Very soon. Now tell me. Do you have another son or daughter?"

  "I may by now. Rebecca’s last letter came tonight. She says it will be soon."

  "Then, when you go back to your tent, do not mourn for Constance who is going to her Lord quite willingly. Be happy for your wife and the three little ones who wait for their Papa’s return."

  Friday, March 17, 1865

  Two days after his conversation with Elizabeth, a letter came by special courier from Rebecca. Without opening it, Charlie knew what it said.

  Thursday, March 16, 1865

  Dearest Charlie,

  Constance has passed. The birth was difficult, but she survived long enough to see her son. A fine baby boy, a bit small, but healthy.

  I have named him Andrew Richard, after my brother and your best friend.

  We laid Constance to rest with a small sermon. Mrs. Williams was nearly beside herself when I told Beulah it was all right for her to attend. She and Constance had become very close and I was not going to refuse her the right to say a proper goodbye.

  So now, my darling, we have three beautiful children, a daughter who loves her Papa and misses him terribly, and two fine sons who are keeping the entire house very busy. It is still early to know, but I do believe that Andrew is going to have blond hair.

  Tarent is thinking of attending an auction in a few weeks to pick up some new horses. He says he knows this particular fellow, and trusts him to sell us good stock. Would it be all right for me to release him some funds for traveling and purchase?

  Emily wants me to tell you that she sends you hugs and kisses and you should do the same, with a toy as well. I tried to tell her you probably were not somewhere that you could get a toy, but if any of the boys have time and are interested in doing a little carving, she would be delighted.

  Hugs to Richard and Elizabeth.

  Waiting as patiently as I am able for your return.

  Eternally yours.

  Rebecca

  Chapter 32

  Friday, March 17, 1865

  Charlie walked to the officers’ mess that night with very mixed emotions; saddened by the loss of a woman who in her quiet way had become a dear friend, and joyous at the birth of his second son. In addition, he had received orders to march. The James River Locks had to be taken and dismantled before the end of the month.

  The officers received the news of Constance’s death with quiet sympathy. Most had only met her briefly, or not at all, but all of them had come to know the energetic toddler who called their commander Papa. Another son was cause for a round of toasts, this time sponsored by Richard, who could not resist the impulse to tease Charlie a bit about his rapidly growing family, particularly since the latest one was his namesake.

  But of greatest concern that night, was the need to mobilize rapidly. The James River was a vital link for Lee’s forces. While there were no large deployments of Southern troops, they knew they faced days of extreme vigilance and probable skirmishing with small bands of raiders along the way. It would be a hard march.

  Charlie’s letter to Rebecca that night was short.

  Friday, March 17, 1865

  D arling Wife,

  I am grieved past words that we have lost our dear friend Constance. I am glad that Beulah attended the service with you and the devil take Mrs. Williams and her bigoted sensibilities. How is our little girl doing? More to the point, how are you doing, darling? A newborn, a six week old sprat and a grieving toddler is more than any one person should have to handle. I wish I were there with you, beloved. I miss you more than I can tell you.

  When it comes to horseflesh, I trust Tarent more than any other man. Give him whatever he needs; he will serve us well.

  We mobilize tomorrow, so I must make this short. I adore you, my beloved and miss you with every fiber of my being.

  All my love, my heart and soul to you.

  Your Charlie

  --*--

  Saturday, March 18, 1865

  The ride to the James River Locks was hard, not because of the terrain, which was rolling hills, fields, and old woodlands, but because the cavalry troopers were assigned to ride constant patrol and surveillance. They covered the same territory over and over, watching for attackers and potential saboteurs attempting to infiltrate the lines. It was grueling work, tedious, and, to be perfectly honest, dangerous. In the four days it took to reach the river, every company under Charlie’s command had encountered rebel forces, with running skirmishes being the order of the day. While no one was killed, there were a number of injuries, most minor, a few serious.

  Elizabeth had her hands full. She could not afford to stop and set up a field hospital, so men were treated in wagons as they moved forward. The weather had cleared; it was warm and with the sun beating down on the canvas used to shield the injured, the interior of the wagons was stifling.

  Charlie, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, pulled Jack up to the moving mess tent for a quick lunch and some desperately needed water. He was hailed by Elizabeth.

  He rode up to the wagon, and then paced Jack to ride along side it. He took off his hat and bowed from the saddle to Elizabeth. "Dr. Walker, how can I help you?"

  "You can help me by finding a place to stop so I can treat these men properly," she growled as she ripped another bandage.

  "You know General Sheridan has ordered us to make all possible speed. I fear I cannot stop until we rea
ch the river, Doctor. I am sorry."

  "Charlie, I cannot care for these men with the ruts in the road and the swaying of the wagon. Some of these men need stitches. I cannot do it under these conditions."

  Charlie drew a deep sigh, then thought for a minute. "If I had your wagons ride toward the front of the line, until you find a place to pull off that is defensible, you could have about an hour or so before you would have to move again. Would that help?"

  "I can make do with that. I just need some time to tend to the worst of this."

  "All right, let me see to it." Instead of stopping for lunch and a drink, Charlie was off again, this time looking for young Captain Avery of Company I, whom he had just relieved from outrider service.

  The days went on with running skirmishes until they reached the locks. The 13th held the northwestern perimeter, as Sheridan’s engineers destroyed the locks and made the upper James River impassible.

  --*--

  Sunday, March 26, 1865

  As the locks fell, the weather, which had been beautiful, changed again. A cold wind with rain blew in from the north; that meant mud. Winter was having her last, brief say.

  The roads were muddy and slick as they moved out, south toward Cumberland County. The next goal was to reach the final rail line from Petersburg and Richmond to Lynchburg and the southern end of the Shenandoah Valley. The valley had been the breadbasket of the South; if they could cut the final supply line, the end was in sight. Charlie and his men were tired. It was showing in the way they moved, in the strain on their faces. It showed in the tired arc of the horses’ necks.

  It only took a moment. Charlie was distracted; Jack was tired. The horse stepped wrong and caught his shoe on a hidden stone buried in the mud. It ripped the nails out of his hoof and the shoe off his foot. As Jack struggled to regain his balance, he strained the hock. Jack was dead lame.

  Charlie cursed a blue streak.

  He changed out horses for one of the reserves and they rode south, advancing a few miles a day until they reached the junction of Amelia, Prince Edward, and Nottoway Counties.

  --*--

  Wednesday, April 5, 1865

  April 5, 1865

  Dearest Rebecca,

  There is a special quality on the eve of battle. It is a breathless waiting, a stillness that, no matter how I try, I will never be able to describe. In many ways, it is like the stillness of the early morning before the sun rises, when false dawn lights the sky with a silvery gray and one does not know what the day will truly bring.

  Richmond has fallen. The Confederate army is in retreat. I pray the battle will be easy, that these men will see reason and know it is time to concede gracefully. I fear they will fight like cornered dogs.

  I know no more than this. I love you with all my heart and soul. I love our children, though I have only met one of them. I long to be home, with you and them, in a world where war is no more. I pray to God above that I may be allowed to realize my dream, that my men and I will survive these last, terrible days.

  I love you.

  Charlie

  --*--

  Thursday, April 6, 1865

  With the fall of Richmond, Lee’s forces had no choice. They had to run –– south and west, towards Roanoke and then south into North Carolina –– or they had to surrender. Grant was behind them, coming from Richmond and Petersburg. Sheridan was there on the west ready to meet whatever Lee could throw against them and determined to close the path of escape.

  They had spent much of the night in conference with Sheridan and his forward scouts. The land ahead was rolling hills, cut by Sailor’s Creek, a small waterway that fed into the Appomattox River. There were marshy bottomlands to the southwest. Merritt’s light infantry, supported by Charlie’s cavalry, were assigned to stop any attempt to slip through the shallow, marshy section of the creek. It would be hard going.

  The men took up their positions at dawn. Waiting was one of those things all soldiers learned how to do. Charlie stayed on the heights above the expected battleground, waiting and watching. That was all they could do. Charlie saw some movement along the front line. Dewees was letting the men of Company D move forward too soon.

  "Duncan! Get down there and get Dewees and his men back in line. Now!"

  Duncan took off at a hard gallop.

  "Richard, did we not tell that young idiot that holding the line was all important?"

  "Yes, we did. What does the fool think he is doing?"

  "Hell, if I knew I would do something about it. Byrnes warned me we would have trouble with him being over-eager. You want to go down there and give him hell or shall I?"

  "I suppose I could do it. I have not really yelled at anyone today."

  "Then go do it. But get back in a hurry. You still have to manage coordination with the artillery and the scouts tell me Gordon’s cavalry is coming our way with a bunch of supply wagons. I will need you here when he arrives."

  Richard tossed a crisp salute. "Yes, Sir."

  Charlie watched as Richard rode down to Company D’s position. He could see his second standing in his stirrups, shouting at Dewees. The first man who broke formation without advance notification might find himself taking fire from the Union artillery behind them.

  As Richard started back, Charlie could see a cloud of dust in the distance and hints of movement. Lee’s army was on its way. Lee had split his forces into three columns. They were about to face the southern column, which was comprised of one quarter of all of the remaining Southern forces in Virginia.

  --*--

  Gordon’s cavalry came on, desperate. They were hungry; they were clothed in rags. They were short of ammunition. The wagons bogged down in the marshy terrain. Gordon’s troops fought like devils. It was exactly what Charlie had expected –– and feared.

  Dewees was a fool. He let his men go too soon and they took at least two rounds from Union artillery until he realized what both Charlie and Richard had told him. Follow the plan. That was the rule. Follow the plan.

  Elizabeth, who normally was reasonably calm in battle, started cursing like a sailor when she realized she was treating wounds inflicted by their own forces.

  Charlie pulled Swallow’s A Company and Braddock’s H Company from the reserve lines and sent them down to relieve Dewees. Andrews and M’Cabe, Companies C and E, were assigned to Merritt’s right flank. With controlled artillery support, and a sound infantry brigade at their core, the Union Army moved slowly in on the smaller Confederate force. It was a rout. Sheridan’s forces, a total of approximately eighteen thousand mixed infantry, cavalry, and heavy artillery, had faced some thirteen thousand five hundred of Lee’s remaining troops.

  By the end of the day, Sheridan’s forces had captured seven thousand seven hundred men, most of whom had sustained some sort of injury. Eight confederate generals, including Robert E. Lee’s oldest son, George Washington Custis Lee, were captured. There were a total of about two thousand injuries in the Union forces and less than two hundred deaths. The Southern force had been devastated. Later, Richard was told that Lee, seeing men fleeing along the roads, asked, "My God, has the army dissolved?"

  Charlie considered himself fortunate. He had only three letters to write home to parents, wives and families announcing the death of a loved one.

  --*--

  Charlie walked through the field hospital that Elizabeth and Samuelson had set up on the heights above Sailor’s Creek. He stopped and talked to a number of men, encouraging them, congratulating them on their accomplishments. Finally, he just stood and waited as Elizabeth finished treating the last –– and least seriously hurt –– of the wounded.

  She stood there in the makeshift surgery tent, bloodied to the elbows, her dress covered with a piece of bloodstained canvas pinned on as an apron. For a few moments, the only people in the tent were Elizabeth and Charlie. Silently, he went to her, put his arms around her and let her lean on his shoulder.

  Finally, she gathered herself, only to let go with a tirade of
magnificent proportions. "God damn it, Charlie! What the bloody hell happened? I had to dig our own canister shot out of those boys."

  "I am so sorry, Elizabeth. Dewees broke formation early; it put the men in the path of the first rounds while artillery was getting their range."

  "So what about you, Charlie? You put a green commander in the vanguard. How stupid was that?"

  "I put Company D in the vanguard because they won the right at the gymkhana and I could not go back on my word to them. Dewees has been in service since the beginning; I thought he would have better sense."

  "Well, see to it that he somehow manages to follow orders in the future or he is going to get more men killed. We were damned lucky as it was. I have a couple of critical cases but only three deaths so far is not bad. You tell that little idiot from me that he is responsible for the loss of a total of seventeen arms, nine legs and God know how many horses."

  "I will. I will also see to it that he personally manages the disposal of the limbs." Charlie took a deep breath. He had more bad news to deliver. "You realize that we are now in the midst of a running battle?"

  "Yes, I assume we are going to chase them down. Samuelson and I are as ready as we can be."

  "Thank you, Elizabeth. I will send Dewees to you shortly. You have my permission to flay him as much as you like."

  Charlie turned to leave. As he reached the tent flap, Elizabeth called out. "Charlie? Take care of yourself. You have four people who really need you to go home when this is over."

  He nodded and walked out.

  --*--

  Charlie sent Duncan to fetch Dewees. As he waited in his tent, he started a letter home. Before he had gotten past the first couple of lines, the Captain knocked.

  "Enter."

  Dewees came in and stood at ramrod attention. Charlie said nothing to relieve his tension.

  "So. What the hell do you have to say for yourself?"

  "Sir, I allowed my eagerness to get the better of me, Sir."

  Charlie stood up and moved to stand directly in front of the man. Less than two inches separated their noses. In an icy tone, Charlie began. "You let your stupidity get the better of you. You disobeyed a direct order –– issued three times, no less. I could have your ass before a firing squad this evening for that alone. But no, that was not enough. You knew we had artillery that needed to get a range on their shot. But you let our men ride into their field of fire." By now, Charlie was spraying spit with each word. "You have one third of your company down with injuries on the first day of what we know will be a hard running battle. There are twenty-six limbs and nine horses that need to be disposed of properly." Charlie’s voice had been rising with each word. He was now yelling outright, something he almost never did. "You will personally see to it. And tomorrow morning, you will report to me in person before a single man of your company moves a foot. Dismissed!"