With Banks now driving the wagon, they quickly moved off towards the river. His horse and Odom’s were tied to the rear of it as it moved along. Davis lingered behind for several minutes until he was confident Mannion was not trying to follow them. Stine rode out in front of the others, his eyes scanning the woods in front of them for trouble. Francis did the same a short distance off to the west.
As Francis rode along his thoughts drifted back to the day he had been summoned to meet with General Lee and given this assignment. “I knew this was not going to be an easy assignment to complete, but who knew it would come to this. Only four of us are now left and there is still so much to accomplish. God have mercy upon us.”
They moved another eight miles during the hot afternoon before they made camp near the river. Still seated on his horse, Francis gave the men some instructions. “Boys, no fire tonight, we don’t know what kind of trouble lies out there. It makes no sense letting the Yankees know where we are with our smoke. Take care of the horses and wagons; I’m going to take a ride to make sure we are not being watched.”
Francis was gone for almost an hour before he returned to where they were camped for the night. Riding around the perimeter of the camp had made him feel uneasy the entire time. He had stopped on a couple of occasions to just listen to the noises the woods made. While sitting on his horse, he had not seen or heard anything unusual, but his training and experience told him he was being watched. Now as he dismounted, both Stine and Banks could see the look of alarm in his face. Taking advantage of the time Francis had been away scouting the area, Davis was taking a nap in the back of the wagon.
Grabbing his rifle, Stine walked over to where Francis stood looking into the trees. “Captain, I can see it in you eyes, what did you see out there?”
“Nothing, just nothing and that’s what scares me. I’ve got a bad feeling we are being watched. I know you have had the same feeling before and your feeling proved right that night a couple of weeks ago. I’ve got the same feeling now. I’d like to keep moving, but it soon will be dark and I don’t want us riding into a trap that might be set for us. Let’s just keep a close eye out. We will take turns sleeping in a bit. Hopefully I am wrong about this, but I don’t think so.”
“Captain, let’s set a trap for them instead of riding into one.”
Francis looked at his sergeant for a moment. Stine was a soldier just like he was, never afraid of a fight and never afraid of bringing the fight to the Yankees he despised. “So what’s your plan, sergeant?”
“Well, you dun said no fire, so maybe we just make a little bit of noise to see if they’s out there. If they is . . . . well I guess then they will know where we are, won’t they. Out here in these woods I’m thinking only a deaf man might not be able to find us. It’s almost too dang quiet out here.” Stine paused to consider what he had just said. He didn’t like the thought that Union soldiers were hunting them. He liked it even less after realizing they would almost be telling the Yankees where to find them by the noises they would make. Finished with his thoughts, he described the rest of his plan to Francis. “Then we all make up our bedrolls so it looks like we is all sleeping, but we ain’t. We’s just waiting fer them right thar in the tree line. Gonna be a full moon tonight, the moon will let us know when company is here. We’ll be ready for them blue bellies when they get here.”
“OK, let’s try it. But first, let’s eat some of those cold biscuits so we have something in our bellies. As it starts to get dark we will follow your plan. The tree line is a good spot to hide in. Good idea you had.” Francis patted Stine on the back as they started to walk over to where the wagon had been left. It had been a simple gesture of appreciation by Francis, but to Stine it meant everything. Then they woke Davis up, telling Banks and he of the trap they intended to set.
Keeping their attention directed at the woods, they ate their cold biscuits and talked for a short period of time as it began to get dark. Then they put Stine’s plan into action. One by one they crept back into the tree line to take up their positions. Now they just sat and waited to see if Francis’ uneasy feelings had been real.
They would have to wait several hours before they caught anything in the trap they had set, but what they would trap would soon lead to the beginning of the end of their journey. It would be an ending they could not possibly have seen coming.
Fall, 2011
27
The Cannons Reveal Their Secrets.
“God gave us Lincoln and Liberty, let us fight for both.”
General Ulysses S. Grant, USA
The early start they had wanted to give to the following morning never happened. The previous day’s heat had caused the beer to flow into the late evening hours and had impacted their good intentions for an early start. Now it was almost ten when Jayne, followed closely by Chick, finally joined Paul in the hotel restaurant. Slumping against the back of the booth when she first sat down, her head rested against the red vinyl headrest of the booth. She quickly closed her eyes to prevent the morning’s bright sunlight from adding to the throbbing headache she was already experiencing. Paul could not help but to smile at her condition as he had been there several times in the past. “Do you at least feel worse than you look?” It was just a small jab, but it made him laugh when he said it to her.
“I don’t know, I think it’s a tie. I haven’t drank that many beers in a long time. The two shots of tequila Chick talked me into seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure it was. I am definitely out of shape when it comes to drinking.”
Chick sat in the booth next to Jayne with his eyes closed as well. Soon he put on his sunglasses to cut down on the light streaming into his eyes. A comment he made about the morning seeming to be an unusually bright one, was one Paul quickly laughed at. “Perhaps it’s the tequila which has made your eyes so sensitive this morning?” He was getting great pleasure out of the fact that his two friends were having such a difficult and painful start to their day.
“We have a busy day in front of us, you two gonna be OK?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need some coffee, a light breakfast, six more hours of sleep, and I’ll be good to go.” Paul chuckled at her response.
Despite their late start to the day, Chick and Jayne soon followed Paul out the front of the hotel after they finished their breakfast. He led the way down Meeting Street to the South Carolina Historical Society building. Entering the lobby they spied Ellen Johnson, one of the two volunteer staff members greeting visitors to the building. She had supplied them with some of the names of the parks they had visited yesterday when they were on the hunt for the cannons. “Hey, Ellen! Paul Waring, I’m not sure if you remember me, but my friends and I were in yesterday. You gave us some tips on where to find Civil War cannons here in the city. That was a big help you gave us, thanks for the assistance.”
“Oh, sure, I remember. How did you make out? Did you get the photos you wanted of the cannons?”
“We did OK, but we were hoping to take some additional photos today of some similar cannons which might be in and around the city. We’d like to include as many photos as possible in the book we are thinking of doing and we’d like to take pictures of as many different cannons as possible. Would you know of any other cannons in the city that perhaps you might have forgotten to mention to us yesterday?” Paul did not like the fact that he was being less than honest with her as to why they were still looking for Civil War era cannons, but more than anything he wanted to find the ones they still needed to locate. He knew stretching the truth a bit might help them find the ones they were still looking for.
“No, I don’t think so. There aren’t any other parks in the city with Civil War cannons in them. I believe I told you about all of them yesterday, at least I think I did. The Confederate Soldier’s Cemetery has a few cannons there, but you specifically asked about our parks yesterday. You didn’t say anythin
g about wanting to visit cemeteries, so I didn’t tell you about those.”
Suddenly the dull headache Jayne had from drinking too much the previous evening disappeared. She could not believe Ellen had not told them about these additional cannons yesterday. The tone of her voice indicated her displeasure at not being told about this information before now. “This cemetery, they have cannons on display there?”
“Yes, they do. If I remember correctly they have at least four, maybe even six or eight on display there.”
“Ellen, do you know what kind they are?” The tone in Jayne’s voice, as she asked a follow-up question, still showed her annoyance with her.
“What kind they are? Big old black ones, that’s what I know them as. I must admit, I have no idea what kind they are. It’s been a while since I was there. To be honest, I don’t have much of an interest in cannons. I can tell you folks do though.”
Paul had been busy looking at his map while Jayne and Ellen were talking. Not being able to locate the Confederate Soldier’s Cemetery, he now slid the map across the glass countertop separating Ellen’s work space from the public area of the building. “Ellen, the cemetery, can you show us where it is on the map?”
******
After getting Chick’s van out of the hotel’s valet parking garage, they were soon on their way to the cemetery. “Can you believe she did not tell us about these cannons yesterday? Like we only wanted to see cannons that were in city parks. Unbelievable!” Jayne was far more upset about this than her two partners were.
Paul was giving Chick directions from where he sat in the right front seat. As he did, Jayne continued to fume in the backseat about Ellen. “Jayne, I’m with you on that, but at least we have a place to look this morning. According to the map we should be there in just a couple of minutes.”
Driving up to the cemetery, they saw the first two large black Napoleon cannons sitting just inside the main entrance. They were situated next to each other, their barrels angled slightly away from each other. Between the two cannons stood three flagpoles which proudly bore the American flag, the South Carolina state flag, and the flag of the Confederacy. The neatly manicured twenty-five acre cemetery held the remains of several hundred Confederate soldiers, most of whom were from South Carolina. Inside the main gate stood a black granite Roll of Honor monument, it listed the names of each of the soldiers who had been buried in the cemetery. The monument also listed the regiment or company each soldier had served with.
Surveying the grounds of the cemetery from where he stood, Paul could not help but notice how well the grounds had been maintained. It pleased him to see the care being given to the final resting place of so many brave soldiers. It was being cared for far better than the cemetery he had visited yesterday.
“Are those the ones?” Chick asked Paul and Jayne a question they could not possibly have known the answer to. They had been standing away from the two cannons as they admired the various monuments that had been erected to honor those men who had died fighting for the Confederacy.
“If they are not the ones, perhaps those are.” Paul pointed at two other cannons he saw on display near a side entrance to the cemetery. “Or maybe those are.” Scanning the cemetery grounds, his eyes had located the last two cannons on display. They were further down the main driveway. The last two cannons sat there with their barrels facing to the north. From how those cannons had been positioned, it looked as if they were ready to fire upon the advancing Northern invaders should they come again.
Jayne and Paul each walked to two different sets of cannons, the two by the main entrance and the two by the side entrance. They soon found neither sets of cannons had the even numbered markings they were anxiously searching for. But one of them, one which was sitting by the cemetery’s side entrance, had been inscribed with the number nine. The cannon sitting next to it had been filled with mortar, but had none of the markings they were after.
After they all had taken time to examine cannon number nine and to document its location, Paul and Chick paused for a moment to inspect a map they had been using. As they did, Jayne walked off to check the next two cannons further down the cemetery’s driveway. In a matter of moments she yelled back to them. “Guys, come here, I found one!”
As they rushed to look at the cannon she had found, Paul looked over at Chick. “Perhaps she could have announced it just a little louder. I’m not sure everyone in Charleston heard her.”
Paul’s comment caused Chick to laugh as they jogged to where Jayne was standing by the cannons. “She’s just excited. No one else is here, so we’re OK.”
“Look, it has the CSA inscription on it and the number eight under the lettering. We found another one. Now we only have two left to find!” Jayne was excited by what she had found. Paul could see that any lingering effects from the previous night’s festivities had long since disappeared. So had her frustration with Ellen.
Chick looked at the inscriptions in the mortar to satisfy his own curiosity. “Yep, that’s one of the ones we want. Do you two see any others around?”
Taking her Nikon camera out of its case so she could document the inscription at the end of the barrel and its overall condition, Jayne did not bother to look at Chick when she started taking her pictures. “I haven’t seen any others, have you?”
As she finished taking the pictures of the cannon, a white Ford Ranger pick-up truck drove up to where they were. It was being driven by one of the cemetery’s employees. The driver’s door had Maintenance Division written in black block style letters on it. A small Craftsman lawn mower, its tires covered with fresh wet grass which had just been mowed, and two Craftsman weed trimmers were in the bed of the truck.
“Morning! Got family here or y’all just visiting?” The driver of the truck wore a rolled up long sleeve green work shirt. His first name was embroidered on the left side of the shirt just above the front pocket. It was easy to see his shirt was already soaked with sweat from cutting grass in the day’s warm temperature.
“Hey, Ken, good morning to you. My name is Paul and this is Chick and Jayne. We are doing a book of photographs on military cemeteries here in South Carolina to coincide with the upcoming anniversary of the Civil War. We are thinking of including a few photographs of the Civil War cannons that are here in your cemetery.”
“Sounds like a good idea for a book! Our cannons are all still in pretty good condition despite their age, except for ‘Old Number Six’ that is. She’s down in the shop as we’re fixing to give her a new paint job. The damn salt air wrecks havoc on these cannons after a while.”
Ken’s statement immediately got their attention. “What’s ‘Old Number Six’? I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Paul asked Ken Barton, the cemetery’s maintenance foreman. As the question was asked, Chick and Jayne moved closer to where Ken still sat in his truck. They hoped to hear the answer they wanted him to tell them.
“Old Number Six? Why that’s another cannon just like the one right there that’s on display. We call it ‘Old Number Six’ because of the number six someone scratched into the mortar when they filled in the barrel years ago. Must have been an inventory number of some kind at some point, but no one knows for sure. Mortar is still in good shape, the cannon itself just needs a paint job. We got it down in the shop like I said. Care to see it?”
Not wanting to sound too eager, Paul waited a moment before he answered. “Sure, if you don’t mind?”
“Ain’t no problem at all. The painter ain’t even here today so you folks won’t be in the way at all.”
They soon were looking at ‘Old Number Six’. It sat mounted on wooden blocks in the Maintenance Building waiting for the new coat of black paint to be applied. It was the largest of the cannons they had found so far.
“Ken, OK if we take a couple of pictures?”
“Sure, snap away. Ain’t no problem at all.”
&nbs
p; Paul and Chick inspected the cannon and saw the markings they were looking for as Jayne took her digital pictures. When she was finished, Paul shook Ken’s hand as they started walking back to Chick’s van. “Ken, thanks for letting us see how you folks take care of these cannons, it was very interesting.” Nervously, he then asked Ken one final question. “So you don’t replace the mortar in the barrels when you repaint them?”
“Nope, no need to unless it’s cracked real bad. In fact, we haven’t had to change out the mortar in any of the cannons in the years I’ve been here. Whoever mixed the mortar that was placed in these cannons knew what he was doing. We will just give ‘Old Number Six’ a couple of coats of paint and put her back on display right where she was.”
“Thanks again for your time. We will get out of your way, I’m sure you are a busy man. Take care!”
“You’re welcome! Y’all come back anytime!”
As they walked back to where Chick’s van was parked, Paul whispered to Chick under his breath. “We are coming back and won’t Ken be surprised when he finds out what’s inside the cannon he’s about to have painted.”
Getting into the van, Chick looked at Paul and asked him what the plan was. “Where to now?”
“I saw a Costco not too far from here when we driving this way earlier. Let’s head over there so we can have Jayne’s photographs developed and blown up. Then we are going to call the mayor of this fine city and make an appointment to see him. After that I have a couple of other calls to make.”
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