Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  Francis did not hesitate for a moment. “Take us there!”

  In minutes, Davis led them to the stand of trees. Odom quickly drove the wagon as deep into the tree line as possible to get it out of view of the passing Union soldiers. They had only been hidden for a couple of minutes when Stine saw the soldiers approaching. They watched quietly, hidden behind the pine trees and scrub brush that was present, as the four Union soldiers casually approached near them. As they passed by, Francis and the others did their best to keep their horses quiet.

  As the Union soldiers passed by their hiding spot, Stine carefully followed them a short distance. He was now on foot and staying within the tree line. He watched until the soldiers had ridden well out of sight. After watching for several more minutes to make sure they had not doubled back towards them, he returned to where the others still hid in the woods. “Captain, they rode off south, almost like they were headed towards Charleston. I hope they keep going that way for a long spell.”

  “Did they see our tracks we left? Any good soldier would certainly have seen the wagon tracks we had to have left in the ground.”

  “If they did, they didn’t bother to stop and check them out. They just kept riding along and talking to each other just as y’all seen them do here.”

  Francis waited several more minutes before he moved the men out. He wanted to make sure the Union soldiers had not decided to double back towards their position. Soon satisfied he had waited long enough, they started moving northeast again. As they moved along, with Stine, Banks, and Davis again keeping a close eye out for Union troops, Francis rode his horse to the left of where Odom sat driving the wagon towards their destination.

  Riding next to each other, Francis and Odom talked about the war, about the slavery issue, and on other matters related to the war. “Big Ed, for us to win this war, which in my opinion has always been a long shot due to the strength and power of the North, we must convincingly win the battles we fight against the Union armies. We cannot just injure them. We must devastate them with large losses of men. Doing so would likely effect the morale of their folks back home and put pressure on Lincoln to end the war. Who knows, he might not even be their President after the next election if things keep going badly for the North. But at the same time we must be able to sustain our own economy, that is one reason why protecting the gold and silver is so important. We must be able to sustain our own economy and our armies. Doing so will hopefully cause England to join us in our fight. Then, and only then, we would be able to defeat the Yankees. I also believe we need to take the war to the Yankees, just as they have done to us. We need to fight them on their own soil like we did at Gettysburg. That would likely influence the opinion Northern folks have on this war.”

  Odom took all of this in as he drove the wagon north, but sat quietly for several minutes as he thought about what Francis had just said. “Captain, I’m just a simple country boy doing my part, but I didn’t think it was all that complicated. I just thought we had to kill more of them than they did of us and then it would be over.”

  Francis smiled at the simplistic way Sgt. Odom had put things in perspective. “That’s how it is supposed to work, but it’s much more complicated than that I am afraid.”

  Expecting a response back, Francis turned in his saddle to see Odom fall forward out of the wagon’s seat and onto the ground. Stunned by what had just happened, he had been riding close to the noisy wagon as it moved along and had not heard the noise of the gunshots until the second shot was fired. The second shot hit the back of the seat where Odom had just been seated.

  Now turning to face the direction from where the shots had been fired, Francis saw three Union soldiers at first, and then the fourth, as they charged towards him and the now stopped and driverless wagon. Odom’s lifeless body rested on the ground not far from where the wagon had stopped. Francis then turned to see where the others were. As he located them, off to his sides and to his north, he incorrectly sensed in the stress of the moment that they just sat on their horses watching for what seemed like minutes before they moved to assist him.

  Instinctively Francis then dismounted his horse and ran to check on Odom. He was dead, killed by a well aimed or perhaps lucky rifle shot through the base of his skull. One minute they had been talking about the war and the next minute Odom was dead on a rough South Carolina trail. He hadn’t even had time to defend himself.

  Standing up, Francis ran back to the wagon. Reaching over the left side of the Conestoga wagon, he felt blindly for his Morse carbine rifle as his eyes remained focused on the fast charging Union soldiers. Finding the rifle with his left hand, he knelt down by the left rear wheel of the wagon as the Union cavalry soldiers rapidly approached his position. He now had no time to look to see where his men were. “Stay calm, just load the rifle and make the shot count, but stay calm.” He knew the others would soon be there to help him, but for now he tried to calm himself as he took aim at the lead rider approaching him. It only took a couple of seconds to steady the rifle against the wagon and fire his first shot. As he did, first Stine, then Davis, raced by him to intercept the approaching cavalry soldiers, now one soldier less from the shot he had fired.

  Francis had aimed well and the cavalry officer fell from his saddle, bouncing along the trail for several feet after hitting the ground. Now Stine and Davis both charged at the cavalry soldier on their right. He was now separated from the others by the void in their ranks caused by Francis shooting the lead soldier. It only took a few seconds for Stine and Davis, with their acquired marksmanship and riding skills, both learned from years of country living, to quickly shoot and kill the next cavalry soldier.

  As they turned their horses around to race back towards Francis, the remaining two Union cavalry soldiers each fired a shot at him, but both shots missed their intended target. As Stine raced back towards his captain, the cavalry officer who Francis had shot staggered to his feet. Despite bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to his left shoulder, he began running towards Francis who was now focused on the two remaining cavalry soldiers. The two mounted soldiers posed the bigger immediate threat to him.

  Spurring his horse to move faster, Stine’s horse quickly closed the distance between them and the injured cavalry officer. In seconds Stine was upon him, knocking him to the ground while still seated on his horse. As Stine dismounted from his horse, the injured cavalry officer, a young lieutenant, again rose to his feet to resume the fight. This time Stine knocked him to the ground with a strong right punch. With the fight now knocked out of him, the Union lieutenant offered no further resistance as Stine grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Grabbing a large dagger from his boot, Stine pressed the knife to the left side of the lieutenant’s throat for the other two cavalry soldiers to now see. He had quickly realized the Union lieutenant was better alive to them than dead and now he gambled his bluff would work. “Keep on coming ya blue belly bastards and I’ll stick this lieutenant of yours through the throat so dang hard his eye balls will pop out! Try me if ya don’t believe me!”

  Now dismounted and standing near Francis, Banks walked closer to where Stine had the Union lieutenant by the back of the neck. He pointed his rifle at the two mounted Union soldiers as he moved closer to support his friend. “I hope you Yankee boys give it a go as it will give me a chance to shoot at least one of you! Which one it is I ain’t figured out yet.”

  “Don’t listen to them, shoot them I tell you, shoot them!” Just as he finished speaking, Stine punched the right side of the lieutenant’s face, knocking him out cold. Kneeling down next to him, Stine now placed the dagger at the edge of the lieutenant’s right ear, threatening to plunge it into his skull. Smiling as he looked up at the two Union soldiers, he challenged them to try something foolish. “Y’all think I’m joking, don’t ya?”

  Francis now approached Stine as he held the dagger against the lieutenant’s head. Carrying his pistol in his ri
ght hand, he yelled at the two cavalry soldiers as he walked closer to where they jockeyed their horses in front of Stine and their injured lieutenant. “You men, you just killed one of my men! We weren’t looking for a fight with you today, but if you want to try and finish it then we aim to oblige you. But I promise you we will be the ones who will be left standing and this lieutenant of yours will be the first one to die. I promise you that and I promise you will die also. If you want to live I suggest you leave, but he’s staying with us until I know you are gone. You have my word that no further harm will come to him unless you come at us again. If you do, he will die before anyone else does and it will be a painful death. As God is my witness that man will die and it will be because you will have tried something foolish. It’s your choice, stand and fight or leave now, but decide quickly or we will make that unfortunate decision for you.”

  Still mounted on their horses and still holding their rifles, the two Union soldiers looked at each other, both realizing without saying a word they were powerless to do anything except save their own lives. Nearby they saw Sgt. Davis was pointing another rifle at them. Turning their horses around, they paused to look down at their still unconscious lieutenant lying on the ground. “Johnny Reb, you won this here fight, but hell is just a moment away if you harm that man. That’s our brother lying there. Hurt him and like you promised, I promise you will die. Maybe not today and maybe not during this here war, but I will find you and I will kill you. You hear me?”

  “I hear you and you heard me. He will not be harmed. Now get or I’ll have a third ear carved into his head!”

  Beaten this time, but with a rage burning inside of them, as their brother was now a Confederate prisoner, the Union soldiers rode off. As they did, they looked back over their shoulders at Francis with disdain.

  With the Union soldiers soon out of sight, Francis gave the men their next order. “Men, get a hole dug so we can bury Sgt. Odom. I’ll tie up our prisoner and treat his shoulder wound a bit. We need to move out before they come back with more men.”

  “What about the dead Yankee?”

  Francis did not look up from where he knelt down next to the lifeless body of his friend. Angrily he yelled back at the question asked of him. “What about him!”

  The men knew what the response meant. They would only have to dig one grave. It was not a time to be smiling as one of their friends had just been killed, but the men appreciated how harshly Francis had dealt with the Yankee cavalry soldiers. Now he refused to have them dig a hole for the dead Yankee soldier. They had come to learn when Francis was challenged he would not back down. Today he had been challenged and he had won.

  After the men had wrapped Odom in a blanket and placed him in the shallow grave they had dug, Francis joined them. With tears in his eyes he said a few words as he stood at the edge of Odom’s grave. “Lord, this was a good man, a gentle man and a servant of yours. Right or wrong, he died serving the country he loved. Lord, take him to heaven to be with you and absolve him of his sins. Amen.” Finishing his brief prayer, he grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it down on top of the blanket covering his friend. Perhaps because he had survived longer than some of the others who had also died during this mission, or because of his friendliness, or because of his willingness to do whatever needed to be done, he had developed a fondness for Odom. It hurt him to lose such a fine soldier. As he stood over the grave, Francis knew he had one more task to complete for his friend. “I will have to write his folks when I get the time. It’s the least I can do for such a fine man.”

  As the men finished filling in the grave, and with tears and anger still in his eyes, Francis finished treating the lieutenant’s wound. The fifty caliber bullet had gone clean through his shoulder, but the wound was not life threatening. As he treated the wound, the young stocky blond hair lieutenant regained consciousness and identified himself. He told Francis his name was Lt. John Mannion. Whether it was due to the pain he was experiencing from his shoulder wound or from the frustration of now being a Confederate prisoner, he said little else. The only other information he provided was that he was from Pennsylvania.

  “Lieutenant, I understand this is war and with war comes death. I don’t know which one of you killed our friend today, but you have also taken a fine soldier from us. I promised your brothers we would not harm you. I honor my promises, but take heed of my warning. If you should try something foolish, it will be me who shoots you dead where you stand. You are probably a fine man and perhaps in a life without war we might have been friends if we had ever met, but now this terrible war prevents that from occurring. I shall find no pleasure in shooting you if you go against us, but I will shoot you. I hope you understand what I am saying.”

  Mannion was sitting on the ground looking up at Francis as he had spoken to him. Now he just hung his head between his knees. He did not speak, choosing instead to just nod his head to show he understood what he had been told.

  Sgt. Stine stood close to where Mannion sat on the ground. He had been the closest to Odom and now he waited for Mannion to try something foolish so he could hurt him. “What now, captain? We turning around or moving on?”

  “We’re still moving on. We’re going after what we started out for.”

  “Whose gonna drive the wagon then?”

  Looking down at their injured prisoner who was still seated on the ground, Francis surprised them with his answer as he kicked Mannion’s feet. “He is.”

  Looking up, Mannion saw Francis had been talking about him. “Sir, I’m injured. It hurts real bad. I don’t think I can drive a wagon.”

  Without a lick of sympathy, Francis glared down at Mannion. “You’re injured? My man now lies in the ground dead. You can drive the wagon or you can join Sgt. Odom where he lies, except you won’t be getting buried. Which is it?”

  Mannion slowly struggled to his feet, his hands still tied behind his back. After retying his hands in front of him so he could drive the wagon, Banks and Stine roughly lifted him onto the wagon’s seat. “Men, ride out like you were doing so we know what lies in front of us. I’ll follow behind the wagon. If you hear a shot, Lt. Mannion will be dead because of something foolish he tried.”

  ******

  It took them almost three more full days of riding before they finally reached Georgetown. When they did, Francis allowed his men a day to rest so they could get cleaned up and rest. He also arranged for them to get a couple of good meals in them before they started out again. As they rested, Francis still mourned the death of Odom. While he realized Mannion had been doing what was expected of a soldier, he still directed his contempt at him.

  On the morning after they arrived in Georgetown, Francis allowed a local doctor to treat Mannion’s injury. He also saw to it that he was fed a good meal after being treated. His responsibilities as an officer dictated he do so. He hoped his fair treatment of a Union soldier might someday result in a captured Confederate soldier being treated well somewhere down the line. “He’s probably scared crazy, wondering what we are going to do to him,” Francis thought as he watched Mannion eat his meal, “and it’s good that he does, it will keep him from trying something foolish. Because I will shoot him if he does.” But deep down he wondered if he could shoot an unarmed man. “I’d probably be thinking about escaping as well. It’s a soldier’s duty to at least try.”

  After resting for almost a full day, they started moving north again. The rest had served them well as it had allowed them time to mourn the loss of Odom and to get some sleep. But now as they drew closer to where the money was buried, Francis set a fast pace for them under the hot sun.

  By late afternoon they had put almost sixteen miles between them and Georgetown when Francis called a halt so they could rest near a small stream. The men and the horses both needed to cool off for a spell under some nearby oak trees. The cool fresh water which flowed in the stream was a welcome relief to all of them,
including their horses. After they rested by the stream for several minutes, and with Banks guarding Mannion, Davis and Stine enjoyed a brief catnap in the shade provided by the trees.

  Francis had used his map to push them to where they now rested. From his map he could see it would be a short ride to the narrowest point of the river where he hoped they could cross without further incident. Studying the map, he saw Stine and Davis had fallen asleep. He knew he could easily succumb to doing the same after riding so hard, but the goal was almost in sight and he would have time to sleep later. “OK, men, it’s time to move out.” As they all stood up and prepared to move out, Francis stopped Mannion from climbing back onto the wagon.

  “Lieutenant, this is as far as you go with us. I’m sure you will be able to find one of your units someplace near here. But watch out as you do, folks in these here parts don’t take kindly to men wearing blue uniforms these days. Make sure you tell your people we treated you well. Tell them I kept my promise about not harming you. I hope you feel the same way.”

  “Captain, I’m obliged to how you treated me. This here war is indeed terrible. While I’m not sorry for what happened when we first met, I’m not proud of what happened to your man either. I keep thinking about what you said to me that day, that perhaps we might all have become friends if this war hadn’t happened. Who knows if that would have happened, but I’ll keep it as a good thought. I don’t bear ill will against you or your men. You are just doing what I was doing, my duty. I hope you can respect that.”

  “That’s why no harm came to you, lieutenant. You were only doing what was expected of you as a soldier. Now you best be on your way before I change my mind. Good luck to you.”

  Mannion raised his right hand and weakly saluted Francis, nodding his head to the others as he began to walk away. He had fully expected to be sent to a prisoner camp or held in some other manner until he could be exchanged in a swap of prisoners, but now he was free. He walked away counting his blessings. He also tried to count how many days it would be until he could see his family again, but stopped counting after realizing it was far too many. After walking a short distance, he stopped to look back at where Francis and the others had been. They were already gone. Out of sight and gone without making a bit of noise.