GLORY II Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

  Selmer awoke to excruciating pain.  At first he was disoriented and couldn't think of where he was.  There was dirt in his eyes and his mouth felt as if something nasty had crawled inside it and died.  He was stiff and sore, and when he tried to move, searing pain shot through his head and tore through his shoulder like a dull knife.  It was completely dark except for a sprinkling of stars and several torches being carried along the road.

  He didn't know what had awakened him other than the terrible pain, but he could hear something near, something grunting and snorting, something that smelled foul and dirty.  Suddenly, he heard another grunt and squeal, and sharp pain laced through his buttocks.  He rolled over on his side and was confronted with a nightmare.  A tremendous pig was staring at him with little red beady eyes, a bloody snout, and slavering jaws.

  Selmer moved quickly away from the horrid animal, aware now that the pig had been trying to eat him.  He watched in horror as other pigs ripped into the stomachs of the dead colored soldiers lying around him, pulling out intestines, livers, kidneys, and chunks of bloody meat.  He could hear the snapping and crunching of bones as the hungry pigs chomped off fingers and toes and happily munched them.  There was an entire herd of the revolting animals, and each one was greedily attacking the dead bodies of his friends, fighting over their grisly trophies.

  He tried to rise to his feet but a fierce dizziness forced him back to the wet grass.  Ever so slowly, he started crawling in the direction of what he assumed to be woods.  At least it was away from the road with its torch-lit traffic.  He could tell from the weak stars that daybreak was not far off.  He had to find safety among the bushes until he could assess the damage to his body and find water and food to keep him alive.

  For what seemed like an eternity, he slowly crawled towards the darker woods.  A sudden sharp pain caused him to black out.  When he awoke, dawn had crept in and he was a good ten yards from the safety of the thick bushes.  With a supreme effort of willpower, he got to his knees and stumbled into the bushes and immediately fell back down into the thick grass and leaves, startling several chickens that had taken roost in the low branches of a small tree.

  By then he was in so much pain, he didn't care whether or not anyone heard him.  Let them make him a prisoner, shoot him, he simply did not care any more.  As he lay on his back looking up into the branches above him, a face interposed itself between him and the branches.  He was startled, but not as startled as the little black girl who gave a
squeal of fright and ran back through the bushes, disappearing as fast as a scared rabbit.  Selmer finally managed to force himself to a sitting position, but decided to stay anchored to the solid ground until his head stopped spinning.

  A few moments later he heard a rustling in the bushes coming closer and closer.  A young black woman finally walked into the small clearing, with the young black girl hiding behind her dress.  The little girl pointed at Selmer and said, "I done told you Mama, there he be."

  The black woman shook her head and turned to her daughter.  "He's a Yankee-man, child, we got no business foolin' with de likes o’ him."

  "He's colored, Mama," the young girl persisted, "one o’ our kind."

  "He ain't one o’ us, child."

  "Please, Ma’am," Selmer begged, sounding weak and hurt.  "I gots to get some water and food and take care of my wounds.  I won't be no bother to you at all."

  "We's Agnew slaves," the woman replied, "don’ got no call o’ messin' in Army business."

  "He's hurt bad Mama."

  "The See-sesh be killin' my friends when they find them Ma’am.  You leave me here and they for sure gonna kill me, too."

  "Please Mama, help him!"

  The woman hesitated.  Selmer could tell from the look on her face that she was normally a kind and gentle woman.  Although the harsh reality of slavery had been her lot in life, she had a twinkle of defiance in her eyes.

  "Help me get him into the house," she finally ordered her younger daughter.  "You don’ say a word 'bout dis, Jasmine, ya hear?  Peoples find out and we be in plenty trouble."

  Ten minutes later, Selmer was sitting on a rough-made bed in the dingy slave quarters behind the Agnew house.  After a long and deeply satisfying drink of water, the first thing the woman did was to demand that he remove his blood- and filth-encrusted uniform.  She then cleaned and salved his wounds and handed him a white cotton shirt to
put on, and a pair of field pants she took from a pile of clean laundry.  The bowl of warm hominy grits and big chunk of cornbread she gave him tasted like a slice of heaven.  Despite the long hours he'd lain unconscious on the cold battlefield, he was still exhausted from the day before, and he had lost a lot of blood.  Within seconds after he finished the small meal, he was fast asleep on the soft bed.


******

  Laura finally woke and lay listening to the muffled sounds around her.  She couldn't tell what time it was for she was in a small bedroom with the door closed.  She heard muttering coming from the other room and raised herself to her elbow.  She could see light coming from beneath the door but didn't know if it was a lamp or daylight.

  She slid over and sat on the side of the bed.  Her body still ached from the strenuous activity of the past few days.  Someone had removed her clothes, for she was dressed in a soft cotton nightgown.  Her memory provided her with everything but whom it may have been who had changed her clothing.

  She was suddenly ravenous.  The very thought of food almost caused her to swoon with hunger.  She walked to the door and slowly opened it just far enough to peer out.  Several women were sitting around a table talking and sipping hot tea or coffee.  She was startled to see that one of them was her own mother.  With a shout of joy, Laura threw the door open and rushed into the room screaming, “Mama!”

  For a long while she rested snug in her mother's arms.  When they finally broke apart, she noticed the other woman was Letitia Agnew who was watching her with a matronly smile.

  "Sit down, child," Letitia ordered.  "I'll get you some breakfast; you must be famished."

  "We came down from Ripley as soon as the Yankees were pushed north," Margaret Tyree stated, answering the puzzled look on Laura's face.  "We took the New Albany road then cut back east because we were told the Guntown road was clogged and a lot of Yankee fugitives were still in the area.  We arrived early this morning."

  "What time is it?"  Laura asked.  "What day is it?"

  "It's around ten a.m. on the 12th dear," Mrs. Tyree replied.  "Letitia said you wandered in about this time yesterday morning, dazed, dirty, exhausted, and she put you to bed immediately.  You've been sleeping for almost twenty-four hours."

  "Has the general returned yet?"

  "No dear, your young Lieutenant has not returned yet," Margaret answered with a smile, knowing that Laura was not interested in General Forrest.

  "Is father with you?"

  "Your father, your sisters and your brothers;  we're all here, Laura.  The moment we heard of your capture by the nigra soldiers, your father would stop at nothing until we got here."

  "You're safe now, dear," Letitia Agnew stated, plopping a large plate full of fried ham, fresh hot biscuits, and half a dozen eggs in front of her.  "The Yankees are probably back in Memphis by now, what's left of them that is.  There must be several thousand of them being held prisoner over by the church.  The colored soldiers are all prisoners or dead now."

  Without comment, Laura attacked the breakfast with gusto.  She had never tasted such wonderful food before, at least her mind told her she hadn't.  When she finished, they were both looking at her with amazement for the plate was empty.

  "Your clothes are next to your door in your room," Letitia stated.  "Bill brought them over yesterday.  You might want to get dressed, we're all going over to the church to see the Yankee prisoners soon.  Most of your family is already there."

  They couldn't take a carriage over to the crossroads, the roads were still clogged with military traffic and infantry soldiers were still scouring the fields and bushes for discarded weapons and equipment.  The wagon park where she'd been held prisoner was still there, the only exception being that Confederate sentries now guarded the supplies in the wagons against pilfering by the locals.

  The stench was putrefying.  The rotting carcasses of horses and mules had turned ripe in the hot summer sun and the flies had appeared in the millions.  They held handkerchiefs to their mouths and noses as they slowly walked to the small Tishomingo bridge, which was now clear of all obstructions.

  To her left as she neared the bridge, Laura saw a large herd of pigs rooting in the upturned blackened soil.  Every so often one of the pigs would dig something from the earth and smack his jaws with delight.  As she drew nearer to the area, she was mortified to see one of the larger pigs run away from the herd with a gruesome trophy in his sharp jaws.  It was a black human hand with pieces of flesh and tendons trailing from it.  She turned her gaze back to the road with a
shudder of revulsion.  The ham from her breakfast suddenly sitting heavy in her stomach.

  When they neared the crossroads, a large group of civilians were standing around looking at the hundreds of Yankee prisoners who had been herded into the clear area between what was left of the Brice's house and the church.  Long rows of dead were laid out in straight lines, Confederates on one side, Union on the other.  It looked to Laura as if there were more dead Confederates than Federals.  Pioneers were busy building wooden coffins to bury the dead in.  She spotted her father and older sister, Elizabeth Jane, standing among a small knot of people, talking and pointing at the Union prisoners, and rushed over to them.

  "Laura!" Elizabeth Jane exclaimed, hugging her as she joined them.  Reverend Tyree took her in his arms and hugged her for a long spell, which was completely out of character for the strict minister, who normally showed little public affection for his wife or family.  She noticed Rebecca Ann, Bettie Cappleman, and her younger sister, Sara Beth, over by the Yankee prisoners talking with one of the Confederate guards.

  The Yankees had been split into two separate groups.  There was a small group of around sixty, and a larger group of well over 1,500.  The smaller group consisted of all officers; one colonel, a score of captains, and the rest lieutenants.  An even smaller group of colored soldiers were separated from the rest of the prisoners.  Laura recognized one of them as the colored Sergeant Major she'd been turned over to after being recaptured near the wagon park.

  Suddenly, Sara Beth turned and raced back to where they were standing, yelling, "He's here!  He's here!"  She ran up and skidded to a halt in front of Laura, eyes wide, a mischievous grin on her face.  "Hi, Laura," she blurted, bubbling over with excitement.  "He's here."

  "Who's here?" Elizabeth Jane finally asked, exasperated with the young girl's irritating eagerness.

  "The Yankee-man who burned down our home!" Sara Beth yelled.  "He's over with the other Yankee devils."

  Elizabeth Jane took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, then glanced over at their father who was scanning the small group of Union officers with a sharp eye.  "Show him to me," she ordered, taking Sara Beth's hand and moving closer to the prisoners.  Laura followed close behind them.  She had not been present when their family farm was burned by the Yankees, but she was curious to see what type of person would do such a dreadful thing.

  "Over there," Sara Beth pointed with here finger.  "Over by that man with the eagles on his shoulders."  The man she was pointing at was Colonel McKeaig, Commander of the 120th Illinois regiment.  His men thought him dead but he had simply been wounded.  During their retreat from the Rebel onslaught, he had been left behind unconscious.
Standing next to him was a young freckle-faced lieutenant with big ears and buck teeth, the one who had given the command to burn the Tyree estate.

  As soon as she spotted him, Elizabeth Jane sucked in her breath and held it for so long Laura thought she would pass out.  A young Confederate captain was standing over a field table making a list of the prisoners and equipment being recovered.  Elizabeth Jane walked over to him.  "Captain, you have a criminal among your prisoners," she said, her face red and temper mounting.  "There is a Yankee officer over there who burned our family farm and killed my ten-year-old brother."

  The young Captain looked up from his papers and noticed the hostility in her eyes.  He was tired and had been working without rest for the past 24 hours.  He knew the best thing was to settle the incident immediately so he could get back to his list of prisoners and equipment, which General Forrest would want as soon as he returned.  "Point him out to me, Miss," he stated, walking with her over to where the Union officers were being guarded.

  "That one there," Sara Beth blurted, she had followed right behind Elizabeth Jane.  "The one with the big ears standing next to the man with the eagles."

  "Private, bring that lieutenant standing next to Colonel McKeaig over here," the Captain ordered one of the guards.  "The one with the big ears and freckled face," he smiled, looking down at Sara Beth.

  Second Lieutenant Warren knew he was in serious trouble as soon as the Confederate guard singled him out and ordered him to follow.  When he saw several members of the family whose farm he had ordered burned several weeks earlier, standing next to a Confederate officer, he became terrified.  He hesitated but was forced on by the guard until
he was standing no more than five feet from the family.  The Reverend's eyes were bitter with hate and fury, but it was the look in the eyes of the pretty young woman that scared him the most.  Her eyes were full of venom and the look of revenge was on her face.

  "He's the one," Elizabeth Jane spat.  "Do you remember us, Lieutenant?" she asked in a deep slow voice.  "Do you remember my little brother, George?  My ten-year-old brother, George, whom you and your disgusting men shot?"

  "It was an accident," Warren blurted out, tears welling up in his eyes.  "I swear it was an accident."

  "Was it an accident that you burned our family farm?" Elizabeth Jane spat back, her voice full of bitter hatred.  "Was it an accident that you destroyed what took thirty years to build?"

  "I was only following orders," Warren replied, his young voice cracking, the tears in his eyes flowing freely.  "I swear to God, if I could undo it all, I would.  I beg you, please forgive me."  He broke down and fell to his knees on the wet grass, covering his face with his hands, deep sobs racking his slender frame.

  "He's yours to do with as you see fit," the Confederate captain said, handing his loaded pistol to Elizabeth Jane.  "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

  She nervously took the weapon and turned to look at her father.  Reverend Tyree's face was noncommittal, he neither encouraged nor discouraged her actions.  Shaking like a leaf, she pointed the pistol at the young lieutenant's head and cocked the hammer, her own eyes full of tears and anger.  Laura looked at her with fascination and fear.  She had never known Elizabeth Jane to be so unforgiving and bitter.

  For a long time Elizabeth Jane held the pistol against the young man's temple, her breath coming in harsh gasps, then with a cry of anguish she turned and threw it into the grass.  Her tears flowing down her cheeks, she grabbed Laura and sobbed like a child as they held each other tight.  Laura turned and they slowly walked away from the still sobbing officer.

  Reverend Tyree walked over and retrieved the pistol from the grass and handed it back to the captain.  He then bent down and helped the crying Lieutenant to his feet, then held him as the boy continued to sob uncontrollably.  Colonel McKeaig, who had witnessed the entire episode, walked over and took the weeping officer from Jim Tyree, then looked into the Reverend's own sad face.

  "He's just a boy," Jim Tyree whispered, "just a boy."  He then turned and followed his daughters back towards the crossroads.

 
******


Hooker had also witnessed the event from his position with the colored soldiers.  He felt sympathy for the teenage officer, but more so for the family that had suffered at his ignorant young hands.  In his mind and in his heart, he knew that bitterness would follow this Godforsaken war for generations to come.


******


  Like Laura, Selmer had slept the around clock, too, waking on the morning of June 12th to the bright face of the little slave girl standing over him.  He was extremely sore and his wounds ached with dull agony, but he had recovered enough that he could stand and move about the small cabin the slaves called home.  The mother had fed him again with cornbread and grits, only this time she had a large pat of fresh butter with it that warmed Selmer's spirit as well as his
stomach.  He had refused a piece of fresh ham, the memory of the pigs filling their guts with the bodies of his friends was too fresh, too unnerving.

  The slave woman had warned him against going outdoors, but he had to see for himself what was going on around him.  He made his way to the thick patch of bushes where he'd lain before and peered out over the open fields to the south.  Confederate infantrymen were still walking the fields, picking up pieces of equipment and dropped ammunition.  The road to his left was also well traveled with soldiers, civilians, and army wagons still coming down from the north.

  As he backed further into the thick undergrowth to keep from being spotted by the soldiers, his hand hit a solid object.  With delight, he plucked a rifle from the grass.  It was empty, but a long wickedly sharp bayonet was still attached to its muzzle, and he knew there had to be ammunition lying around for the finding.  He started to turn and head back for the safety of the cabin when he spotted a small group of civilians walking up the road, heading in the direction of the big house to his left.

  Something was familiar about them but he couldn't tell what it was due to the distance.  As they drew closer, his face darkened over with fury and anger.  It was her, the white girl who had started it all.  She was sauntering up the road arm in arm with another girl, smiling, laughing, acting as if nothing in the world mattered except her.

  Selmer was so filled with rage he wanted to burst from his hidden place in the bushes and impale her on the long sharp bayonet.  Only the presence of so many Confederate soldiers prevented him from fulfilling his mad desire.  No, he'd wait, think it through.  There had to be a better way to gain his revenge.  Her officer friend would be returning soon and they'd all think they were safe and secure.  A plan began to form in his mind, and a wide smile suddenly grew on his face.


******


  "I'm so sorry to hear about Tony," Laura said to Elizabeth Jane, looking into her red rimmed eyes where tears still forced their way out to trickle slowly down her cheeks.  "John Philip told me he was killed in Georgia, up near Chattanooga."

  "They never found his body," Elizabeth Jane replied.  "They say there was a great explosion and many men died.  Few bodies were recovered.  But there is one consolation though.  I may never see my Tony again, but I have his child within me.  That's something this terrible war can never take from me."

  "How wonderful, Elizabeth Jane!"

  "What of your young lieutenant, Laura, how does he fare?"

  "He left me at the south fork of the Hatchie, had to go on with the general.  I pray he is safe, I don't know what I would do without him.  I simply don't think I could live or would want to live without him, Elizabeth Jane."

  Elizabeth Jane looked at her younger sister with sympathy and love.  She knew the feelings she was going through, the agony of waiting, of not knowing.  Their parents had thought her too young to know such love, too, but she and her Tony had proven them to be wrong.  Their love had been strong and enduring and she would cherish it for the remainder of her days.

  The family had suffered bitterly in this horrible war, but so had many others.  A time of healing would come, it always did.  But, she could never heal the emptiness in her heart and the fond memory of a gallant young man lost to her forever.  But Laura could, she still had her Will to love and to cherish.

  "I know how you feel, little sister," she replied, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.  Laura turned to her and hugged her tightly against her chest, both of them breaking out in a renewed flood of tears.  Young Sara Beth looked at them as if they were both crazy, then ran up the road to get to the house first.


******

  By that evening, Captain Jennings had tallied up the Confederate gains as well as the losses.  They had captured one colonel, one assistant surgeon, eighteen Captains, and forty lieutenants.  There were also 87 noncommissioned officers, three musicians, and 1,468 Federal privates.  The intelligence reports indicated that a total of 2,612 Yankees had been killed, captured, or were missing in action.

  In equipment they had 161 mules, 23 horses, 176 wagons, 16 ambulances, and hundreds of sets of harnesses.  They had captured a lot of food and medical supplies, most of which would be sent to Georgia to General Johnson's army.

  In ordinance, they captured 16 cannon, three 12-pounder Napoleons, 28 limbers, 15 caissons, hundreds of rounds of artillery ammunition, 1,500 stands of small arms, and well over 300,000 rounds of small arms ammunition.

  In losses, Doctor Cowan reported 96 dead and 396 wounded, several of whom were on the critical list and probably wouldn't make it.  The battle had not been without cost, many a brave young man had sacrificed his life for the incredible one-sided victory.

  By early that evening most of the units had returned to the crossroads.  Monday came in just before dusk with the ambulances loaded down with the Union wounded who had been treated by the citizens of Ripley.  These men, along with the Confederate wounded, would be taken down to Guntown, loaded onto trains, and sent to various hospital centers.

  Laura and her family spent the remainder of the day cleaning the Agnew home and preparing a large meal for several dozen neighbors who had gathered to gossip and talk about General Forrest's great victory over the Union forces.  Laura spent as much time as possible outdoors, constantly searching the road for the returning Confederate units.  As soon as one or more came into view, she would stop what she was doing and stare until she could identify that Will was not among them.

  As soon as darkness fell, she moved to the porch and sat in a rickety old rocking chair that Letitia often used when she churned butter or mended clothes.  At first a number of her friends joined her on the porch, but, when they saw that she was more interested in staring down the empty dark road than conversation, they filtered back into the house to listen to the exciting stories being told over and over.

  Half an hour later, she heard a whisper in the darkness behind her and turned to see a young colored girl not five feet away in the bushes.  "Man want to see you, Missy," the little slave said, pointing behind the house.  "He say it be berry urgent."

  "Who is it," Laura asked in a tired and bored voice.  She did not want to leave the porch and her unobstructed view of the road.

  "A soldier-man, Missy.  He say you hurry up."

  "A soldier," Laura muttered.  "Why would a soldier want to see me?" she asked herself.  Then, with a start, she quickly stood and looked back towards the dark behind the house. Could it be Will?  Maybe he wants to see me alone without all these people.  "Show me little girl," she ordered, stepping off the porch and following the outline of the little slave as well as she could in the dark.

  The girl took her past the house, past the slave quarters, and into a blackjack thicket.  She stopped just before the thickets turned into an open field, then turned around and stared at Laura.  "He be here soon," she said.  "He say fo’ you to waits fo’ him here."  She then turned and disappeared into the dark bushes.

  Laura didn't like the idea of waiting in the dark bushes.  She had a sudden premonition that it wasn't Will who wanted to see her and a clammy sweat broke out on her forehead.  She started to leave, but was halted by a strong hand that grabbed her by the waist and forced another cold callused hand over her mouth.

  "You ain't goin' no wheres, Missy," a rough voice whispered into her ear.  "I gots you now and you goin' wif me.  You opens your mouth to scream and I promise I hits you real hard."  The hand was removed from her mouth and nose and pulled behind her back.  A rough piece of cord tied both hands together, then she was jerked around.  Her eyes opened in terror as she recognized her assailant and she started to scream but he clamped a strong hand over her mouth and nose again.

  Laura tried to kick wildly and to bite the smothering hand, but the colored soldier was far too strong for her.  He tied a smelly gag in her mouth and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to follow him.

  The last thing she saw as she was led into the darkness was the smiling face of the little colored girl.  The colored soldier bent down and gave her a piece of paper then patted her on the head.  Laura did not know what the note meant, but she was certain it was for Will.