by Diane Wylie
Something wet splattered his face. He knew what it was when he smelled the metallic scent of iron. He ignored it. Blood and screams filled his senses—the world turned red with it, but he could not stop his own part in this. His heart pounded, and his breath came in short gasps as he pushed his way along, adding to and moving through the carnage.
“Press them back, boys!” he yelled, waving his sword over his head. “Keep going, lads. We’ll get them to turn tail yet!”
Only those of Company I closest to him could hear his cries of encouragement above the din, but he yelled himself hoarse each battle nonetheless.
George fought the closest beside his captain today, as usual. Hearing his words, George stood in the saddle and gestured to the others with his rifle, sending them all forward, pressing the battle ever closer to the Rebel line.
George had been promoted to lieutenant, taking Thomas Miller’s place as David’s most trusted subordinate. With the loss of Caleb, Frank, and Thomas, the two remaining friends became closer. No more did David seek closeness and comradeship from anyone but George and Jack in the entire Seventeenth Pennsylvania. The experience of the recent past had taught him hard lessons in betrayal and loss. He had become one of those officers who held themselves apart from the men—an action he now understood—though he treasured each man in his heart and did his best to watch over them all.
* * *
David crouched in the grass next to Private Harris, one of the grizzled veterans under his command, getting his opinion on the day’s fighting and trying to get an accounting of any missing or wounded men. The colonel’s aide approached the group on foot and cleared his throat.
Rising, David absently rubbed his leg trying to loosen its stiffness. It was cold on this mid-December night, a cold that had seeped into his very bones.
The aide saluted. “Captain Reynolds, Colonel Kellogg requests your presence in his tent right away.”
David returned the salute. “Right away, Corporal.” He leaned down and touched Harris’ shoulder. The older man looked up and cracked a toothless grin.
“I know, Captain. I will come see you later and give my report.”
“Thanks, Harris…and Harris…” The man’s grin grew wider. “…Good job today, pass the word down the line. I am ordering up extra rations for breakfast.”
“Sure thing, sir, and thanks.”
Walking through the darkness, stepping over resting soldiers on his way to the Colonel’s tent, David saw George talking to Lieutenant Jones. He stopped with them for a moment. “George, can you tell the men to go ahead and set up camp here? Fresh rations are available. Send a couple of volunteers to bring our company’s share back to the camp.”
George grunted in response, his thin bearded face as weary as the rest in the shadowy darkness.
“Jones, what is the horse situation?”
“Lost four today, Captain,” the horseman replied in his usual clipped manner. The man loved horses and could be heard speaking to them softly, but around people he was shy, a young man of very few words.
David nodded. “Try to locate new ones tomorrow. I heard the Seventh Massachusetts suffered a fairly large loss, poor fellas. They may have extra horses.” He turned to leave.
“Yessir,” Jones said, “and sir?”
He turned back. “What is it?”
“Uh, sir…you’re bleeding,” the officer said hesitantly, exchanging glances with an impassive George.
There was a dull burning in his shoulder, but David hadn’t paid it any mind. There was simply too much to do at the moment. “Oh, yes, thank you, Lieutenant.” He pulled out a bandana and pressed it to his left shoulder as he walked away calling, “Bring your kit to my tent later, okay, George?”
“Yes, sir, Captain Reynolds!”
Returning to his tent, David sat on his cot and shed his shirt. George came in and got to work.
The tent flap lifted, letting in a blast of cold damp air. Captain Jack Montgomery came in, rubbing his blond whiskered face with one hand. “Hello, Dave, George,” he said, greeting the two men already in the tent. “Gone and got yourself cut again, Dave? Your pretty wife won’t like you coming home all full of scars.”
David flinched as George’s needle hit a particularly sore spot. Tipping up the bottle, he took another long pull of whiskey, watching Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Are you in bad pain?” Jack’s voice softened as he dropped down to sit on the cot opposite his friend.
“The shoulder’s not bad. You missed Kellogg’s meeting.”
“Yes, I didn’t get the message in time. Why, what did I miss?”
“A few things. Lieutenant Lee was killed today.”
“Sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”
“Lost a few others besides,” David continued, staring down at the bottle in his hands.
“Damn shame,” Jack murmured. He bent over, pulled off his high-top boots and stockings, then rubbed his bare feet with a sigh.
“Kellogg’s getting discharged later this month. He’s going home.” George gasped behind him. “Take it easy back there, old pal. Don’t go poking any extra holes in my hide now.”
“Sorry,” the lieutenant mumbled with a smile in his voice. “Pass me that there bottle, will you?” he asked, with his blood-spotted hand already out.
David held up the bottle but didn’t let go. “Have you quite finished with that needle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then.” He let the man take the whiskey bottle. The liquid sloshed, and George swallowed noisily. Suddenly David’s shoulder seared with a burning pain as liquid ran down his bare back. He leaped up. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Why did you pour that on me with no warning?” he gasped.
Jack laughed and stretched out on the cot, closing his eyes. “Don’t be such a child, Dave. Alcohol is good for cleaning the wound,” he said without opening his eyes.
“Huh, easy for you to say, MAJOR Montgomery.”
He bolted upright. “What?”
David laughed at the look of pure astonishment on Jack’s face. “That’s right, Major Anderson was promoted to a full colonel to replace Kellogg. Four of us were promoted to major—you, me, Kurtz, and Thompson.”
George let out a low whistle. “Now I have two friends that are high officers. Ain’t that just a hoot?”
“When is that effective?” Jack asked, still wearing a shocked expression.
“Now. Let me have that bottle again, will you?” Wordlessly, the whiskey bottle was given back. David tipped it to his mouth and took a long swallow and sighed. “It feels much better inside me than on the outside,” he declared with a satisfied grin.
Jack frowned. “I still don’t get it.” He lay back again and crossed his arms under his head and regarded his friend in the dim light of the oil lamp. “You haven’t done that much drinking in a long time. Is it Kellogg leaving, or are you celebrating your promotion?”
“You guessed wrong, Major Montgomery. This is not a celebratory or a farewell drink.” David scratched his bare stomach and waited while his shoulder was bandaged.
“All done, Major Reynolds.” George said with a chuckle and a light pat to the bandaged shoulder.
“Thanks, friend. Barely felt it until you doused me with the alcohol.” He flexed his wrapped shoulder experimentally then passed the bottle. Tipping the bottle back for a long pull, George swallowed, wiped his mouth, and plopped down next to David. He held the bottle out to Jack.
“You see, Jack,” David said, watching him take a big swig of the amber fluid. “George and I both lost a close acquaintance today.”
“Really? Who was that?” Jack passed the bottle back, lay down again on the cot, turned on his side, and pulled his blanket up over his shoulders.
“One Lieutenant Thomas Miller was executed today. Found guilty of treason and collaborating with the enemy. He was hung today at noon.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“It was nice to see Patricia and the b
aby, wasn’t it, Papa?” Jenny tried hard to sound cheerful enough to lighten the mood her father seemed to have sunken into since the Harrisons left this morning. She feared he would return to the same state of despondency he had been in months ago when he murdered one of the Yankee intruders in the front hall.
Phillip glanced up from his untouched meal. “Yes, daughter, we must keep in touch with our friends and neighbors now more than ever and help each other. Food and supplies are scarcer than ever before, since the Union army has marched on Richmond destroying everything in its path, including the railroad we depend on.”
His face was bleak and pale. Dark circles under his eyes told her he was not sleeping well. Papa was extremely worried; that much was clear.
“Will we run out of food, Papa?” Ben cried in the middle of a bite of biscuit. Tears brimmed in the boy’s brown eyes.
Phillip looked startled, as if he had forgotten the boy was there.
“No need to worry, chile.” Kizzie reached over and patted his little hand. “Not whiles Jeb and me and yo’ sister and daddy have breath in our bodies. We is not gonna let yo’ starve, little one.”
“That be the truthhh, Benny,” Jeb agreed with a big, gap-toothed grin. “Yo’ Papa jus’ be a bit worried, thas all.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, son,” Papa said, putting a bright smile on his face. “We will be fine, thanks to all the vegetables we planted.”
Benjamin screwed up his face. “Yuk! I hate vegetables.”
“We make all kinds of good things with vegetables, Benji. You like sweet potato pie, don’t you?” Jenny reminded him.
“Oh, yes! Is that a vegetable?”
“Of course,” she laughed.
“Well, that is okay then,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Does my brother like sweet potato pie, too?”
Ben loved his new brother-in-law very much and talked of him more than Jenny could bear sometimes. Just the mention of his name could make her heart ache. Was he still alive? Was he hurt? Where was he? He could be one of the soldiers in Richmond helping to ruin the South.
He had told her this would happen, and he was right. Dear God, how she had wanted him to be wrong. But she knew the tenacity of the Southern men as the Union generals had apparently come to find out. Those boys would continue to fight until every last one of them was dead, if left the opportunity, or told to do so by their revered General Lee.
It was awful, but it made sense to her that the Yankees resorted to such inhumane methods as cutting off food and supplies to the Confederate army. If they continued to be supplied, the Rebels would fight for years and years to come. The war would go on indefinitely. But the North had far more men and resources than the South. That much was a fact. Despite the greater heart of the Southern soldier, he could not fight on an empty stomach for long.
My people will never win, she thought sadly. It was just so difficult to love her home and her neighbors and love an enemy of her own army. She was being torn in two.
“Jenny? Well, does he like sweet potato pie?” Her brother shook her arm.
“Uh, yes,” she finally responded, jarred into reality. “David does like it. We all had pie before he left, remember?”
Ben grinned happily at everyone around the table. He loved being the center of attention. “I remember now. Before that bad man came and David left, we had a party because my brother could see again, and Uncle Jack was all better, too.”
“That be right, little one. It were a happy, happy day,” Kizzie sighed with the memory.
“David kissed Jenny. Right on her lips, too!” Ben declared. “I remember that, too.”
“Yes, and I kissed him back because that is what husbands and wives do,” she told him. It was impossible to keep from thinking of David at almost any time of the day. Even now she could almost feel the touch of his lips…
“Sister! You are daydreaming again,” Benjamin chided, giving her arm another squeeze and a shake. “I can tell. You get that funny look on your face when you do that.”
“Oh,” she smiled at him. “I suppose I was, but it was a good daydream.”
“Did anyone hear that?” Phillip interrupted, cocking his head to one side.
Everyone fell silent. Sure enough, someone was knocking frantically at the door.
“I’s gonna go see who it is. Ever’body stays put,” Jeb offered, pushed his chair back, and hurried away.
They all sat quietly staring at the doorway. Moments later Jeb was back with Alistair Harrington following. Close on his heels was Patricia with the baby in her arms.
Jenny took one look at the tears running down Patricia’s face and immediately hurried to her friend’s side. Little Priscilla was crying, and her mother was squeezing the toddler tightly to her breast. Alistair was wide-eyed and paler than usual.
“Whatever is wrong? Did something happen?” She put her arms around Patricia and the baby.
“Lee surrendered! He surrendered to Grant on April 9th at the Appomattox Court House. A group of Confederate soldiers passed us on our way home, and we turned right around to tell you. They were headed home to their families. The war is over!”
* * *
Jenny looked up at the grand Capitol building as she approached. It seemed as though all of Washington was hung with black crepe, and every one of the colorful star-spangled flags was flying at half-mast in honor of the late President Lincoln.
Over a month had passed since the entire North and South had been thrown into turmoil with Lee’s surrender and Lincoln’s assassination. Today was meant to be a celebration, but all of the people gathering on the street around her seemed to be in a strangely subdued mood.
“Jenny, will I get to see my brother soon?” Benjamin tugged at her hand, interrupting her thoughts. “I haven’t seen him in a long time or Uncle Jack, either. I’m tired of walking.”
“Come here, son.” Smiling, she watched Papa stop and stoop down to the child’s level. “Up you go!”
Ben giggled as his father hoisted the little boy onto his shoulders. The noise of his laughter was loud despite the throngs of men, women, and children continuing to arrive on the street. A few quickly stifled laughs were heard around them. People didn’t seem to know how to act, so they spoke as if they were in a church, rather than outside on the busy streets of Washington, D.C., waiting for a parade.
Jenny knew how they felt. It was a glorious spring day, and the citizens of this city had every right to be happy and full of patriotic enthusiasm. The Union army had won the long, hard war. Grant had been victorious, but sadly the toll had been too high on both sides. Thousands upon thousands of men were never coming home to their loved ones again, including their own Abraham Lincoln. The people seemed dazed and uncertain, many even wearing dark clothing, appropriate for mourning rather than celebration.
Today would be the Grand Review of the Army of the Potomac. The parade would head down Pennsylvania Avenue and past the new president of the newly united states, Andrew Johnson. It would be a glorious sight to honor the brave soldiers—a way to acknowledge the end of the worst war to ever touch the shores of the nation.
Reaching into her reticule, Jenny pulled out the note again. “He wants us to go to the lamppost directly in front of the Capitol building.”
Phillip looked down the street. “Well, this is the right place. There are so many people here; I certainly hope they find us.”
A few minutes later, two people walked up to their little group at the lamppost.
“Hello, everyone, I would like you to meet Lila Montgomery,” Jeffrey Reynolds said, after greeting his in-laws with cheerful enthusiasm.
Lila Montgomery was a petite woman with an exotic type of beauty. She smiled and greeted Phillip and Benjamin. Then, turning to Jennifer, she opened her arms wide. “Oh my,” Lila cried, embracing her warmly. “I feel as if we are truly sisters, Jennifer! My Jack has told me so much about you. Of course, I had always hoped dear David would find a special girl!”
Jenny was touche
d by the woman’s declaration and startled to see that she was so obviously with child. A small, rounded bulge showed clearly under the skirts of her elegant pink gown.
“It is wonderful to meet you at long last, Lila. Jack talked about you all the time.” She stepped backward a step, still holding onto the smaller woman’s hands. “Are you feeling all right? Would you like to find a place to sit down?”
“Nonsense, why, I am perfectly fine. Healthy as a horse, Jack always says.” She laughed gaily. “My dear husband doesn’t know he is going to be a father. I have not seen him since Christmas and did not want to cause him any distress while he was fighting. Won’t it be fun to see his face when he finds out?”
“Yes, I am sure he will be surprised and overjoyed,” Jenny replied with a smile. Silently she wished she had news of a kind to share with David. But, she consoled herself, it was early in their marriage yet. They, too, could have a baby. Creating one would be such fun.
The heat rose from her abdomen to her neck just thinking of him. Oh, how she had missed him. She missed lying in bed beside the solid warmth of his man’s body. She missed the smell of him, the feel of him, and the taste of him on her lips. Soon, she told herself once more, soon I will see him again.
Then she brightened even further. Tomorrow they were all taking the train to Philadelphia. She would get to see Madeline, Cordelia, Patsy, Luther, and Isaac again…and visit David’s home. It will be so wonderful to see them all again!
* * *
“Well, Napoleon, this should be the last time we will be part of an official military cavalry brigade.” David reached down and patted the sleek, black neck. “We made it. We have been through the mill and survived whatever came our way.”
The animal tossed his head in agreement and snorted.