The Devil in Gray (30 page)

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Authors: Graham Masterton

BOOK: The Devil in Gray
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Lieutenant H.N. Stannard (
Oyá, the goddess of the cemetery, often syncretized in Santería with Saint Anne of Ephesus.
)

Lieutenant R.F. Mason (
Ochosi, or Osowusi, the night watchman, Saint Cecilia.
)

Sergeant W.B. Brossard (
Babalu-Ayé, the god of contagious diseases, Saint Lazarus.
)

Sergeant L. Taylor (
Orunla, the only god who tricked Death, Saint Francis.
)

Corporal C. Hutchinson (
Allaguna, one of the manifestations of Obtalá, a fierce fighter on horseback, Saint Luke.
)

Lieutenant Colonel H.K. Drewry (
Osain, who terrifies people in the woods at night, Saint Cyril.
)

Major F.D. Martin (
Osun, the messenger of imminent danger, Saint James Intercisus.
)

Corporal W. Cutler (
Elegguá, the trickster, Saint Martin of Porres
.)

Major J.H. Shroud (
Changó, god of lightning and fire, Saint Barbara.
)

Captain G.T. Brookes (
Orisha-Oko, the god of sacrifical blood, Saint Barnabas.
)


In spite of the warm and humid weather, each of these volunteers was to be issued with a greatcoat, since during their period of possession by their respective gods, they would appear as the Negro servant John had appeared, as an ambulant skeleton, or even invisible to the naked eye, and we were anxious not to put our own men in fear of them. They were also to be issued with slouch hats, with bands of crow feathers around them, which John insisted would enhance their magical power
.”

Decker laid his hand on top of the papers, and Captain Morello took off her reading glasses and looked up. “Who could have seen this diary?” Decker asked her. “Apart from Major Drewry and you? I mean, recently?”

“Nobody. It's been kept in the archives under lock and key.”

“Do you think there could be another copy of it somewhere?”

“I doubt it. It was tied up and sealed, presumably by Lieutenant General Longstreet himself, and I'm pretty sure the sealing wax was original.”

“So nobody could have seen this roster of names since 1864?”

“Not very likely, no.”

“Yet three of our four homicide victims were descendants of one of these men. Maitland, Drewry, and Mason. And it's conceivable that Alison Maitland was descended from one of them, too.”

He hesitated, and then he said, “For that matter, so am I. That was my great-great-grandaddy—Frederick Decker Martin.”

“But why should anybody want to kill them?”

“Grudge, I guess.” He didn't want to tell her anything about his nightmares, or the way in which Cathy had appeared in his apartment.

“Hell of a long time to bear a grudge.”

“I don't know.”

“Maybe your perpetrator is somebody whose great-great-grandfather was in the Union army, and got turned inside out, or struck by lightning, or whatever.” She shrugged. “Just a wild guess. You know more about criminal motivation than I do.”

“Well … you're right. People kill other people for the strangest reasons. Old guy in the Fan District strangled his wife last year for serving him spinach every day for thirty-eight years. But—go on—tell me more about the Devil's Brigade.”

“Oh, for sure, because this is where it really gets interesting. Very early in the morning of May sixth, Longstreet marched his divisions up to Parker's Store on the Orange Plank Road, including the Devil's Brigade. They arrived about dawn. The whole line of the Union army was advancing through the woods, and up in front of them Heth's and Wilcox's divisions had broken, and they were running for their lives.

“It was at this point that Longstreet deployed Kershaw's division on the right of the plank road, and Field's on the left. They managed to check the enemy's advance, but it was impossible for them to make any real headway because the underbrush was so thick.”

She started reading again from Longstreet's diary.


The line of battle was pressed forward and we came in close proximity to the enemy. The dense and tangled undergrowth prevented a sight of the opposing forces, but every man felt they were near. Everything was hushed and still. No one dared to speak above a whisper. It was evening, and growing dark
.


Then a man coughed, and instantly the thicket was illumined by the flash of a thousand muskets, the men leaped to their feet, the officers shouted, and the battle was recommenced. Neither side would yield, but I could see that some of the bravest officers and men of my corps were falling all around me, and I realized that our line was close to breaking point
.


I called for Major General Maitland and Colonel Meldrum and advised them that I wished to send forward one of their special brigade to see what assistance he could give to our divisions. Colonel Meldrum argued that we should send forward at least four or five of them, but I was reluctant enough to send any at all. The Negro servant John said that if I was adamant that we should send only one, we should call upon Major Shroud to be possessed by the god of fire and lightning, Changó, since the woods and the thickets were highly inflammable, and the wind was in our favor, from the southwest
.


Major Shroud came forward and, witnessed by only four or five of us, performed a ceremony involving stones which he called ‘thunderstones,' and the crushing of a snail, whose juice he dropped upon the stones, and oil. Then he brought forward a rooster and cut its throat, dropping its blood upon the stones also
.


The fighting was very close now, and musket balls were snapping through the underbrush and striking the trees. John made one last incantation and hung a necklace of red and white beads around Major Shroud's neck, which he explained were the sacred colors of Changó
.


The transformation of Major Shroud was appalling to behold. Like the Negro servant John, his flesh appeared to melt from his face like candlewax, leaving him the appearance of a grinning eyeless skull. He furled his greatcoat, and as he did so I could see that his chest was nothing but a bare rib cage
.


John took a lighted cigar and blew a stream of smoke toward the enemy lines, uttering some words that were completely incomprehensible. Major Shroud turned and began to make his way in that direction. He appeared to be able to walk through the underbrush with no difficulty whatsoever, more like a terrible shadow than a man
.


Only a few minutes later, the woods were luridly lit by lightning, a hundred times brighter than the flashing of musketry. Lightning struck in eight or nine places all at once, and was followed by a peal of thunder that shook the very ground beneath our feet. Fires sprang up on every side, and in a very short time the woods were fiercely ablaze, here, there, and everywhere
.


Men scream in battle, when their bowels are penetrated by a musket ball, or their leg is torn off by solid shot, or their arms crushed by a minié round. I was familiar with such screams
.


But that night in the woods of the Wilderness I heard screams that sounded as if they had been uttered by souls being shoveled wholesale into the fires of hell. They were screams of such hopelessness that my very skin shrank, and when I turned to Major General Maitland and Colonel Meldrum to adjudge their reaction, I could see that they were similarly affected. Major General Maitland was so deathly white as to resemble a ghost of himself
.


The lightning continued to strike with a horrendous crackling and the thunder continued to split the skies. As the fires burned furiously northeastward, our divisions were able to make a general advance in their wake, since most of the entangling brush was burned away. At this time I gave orders to Lieutenant Colonel Sorrel to take the brigades of Generals Mahone, G.T. Anderson, and Wofford and to conduct a flanking movement behind the enemy's left and rear. The movement was a complete surprise and a perfect success. With the woods afire all around them, and our volleys striking them on three sides, the Federals fell back in utter disarray
.


Major Shroud returned to our ranks, his flesh restored to him, but his face blackened by smoke, and in a very diffident mood. I ordered him to bathe and rest since his experience seemed to have put him into a very unpleasant humor indeed
.


By the light of dawn I was able to assess the extent of the carnage. We came across many of the enemy with their bodies indescribably mutilated, with their limbs twisted into impossible positions, and many of them had been turned completely inside out, like my unfortunate mockingbird, so that their intestines were bound around them like twisted ropes. Others had been cremated where they stood, and were nothing but columns of black charcoal. Although I did not see him myself, another was reportedly stretched out so long that until they discovered his distorted face the surgeons did not realize at first that he had once been a man
.


Despite the success of our action, I resolved that this was to be the first and only time that I would call upon the forces of Santería to assist us. War has no glamour, but it has honor, and codes of conduct, and should the Confederacy win this noble struggle, I want our victory tainted by nothing that could cause our sons and daughters to think of us with shame
.


The brigade was assembled, and I thanked them for their commitment to the cause, and informed them of my decision. However, Major Shroud flew immediately into the most incontinent of rages, and said that he still had much work left to do, and would never rest until the last of our enemies had been incinerated and their cities razed to the ground. He held forth with such appalling curses and imprecations that I immediately ordered him to be put under guard
.


Colonel Meldrum's servant John informed me that while Major Shroud had returned to the appearance of normality, it was plain that the spirit of Changó still exercised control over him. When I asked how this spirit might be exorcized, John said that Changó had obviously found Major Shroud to be such an amenable host that he would never be wholly free of this possession for as long as he lived. It was true that while Major Shroud was an excellent officer in the field, and discharged his military duties with courage and diligence, he did have a reputation for his evil temper and his unwillingness to forgive even the smallest of slights. He had also been demoted after First Manassas for cutting the ears off a living Union prisoner as a souvenir of victory, and it was said (although never proved) that he had cut the privates from two other prisoners while they were still alive and forced them into their own mouths
.


John was of the opinion that Major Shroud would continue to pursue the enemy until every last one of them was dead, and any who tried to thwart him in this purpose would suffer a similar fate. Even after the cessation of hostilities, there was a real danger that he would pose a mortal threat to anybody who was unfortunate enough to cross him in any matter large or trifling
.


John said that the only way in which this threat could be contained would be to seal Major Shroud alive in a casket lined with solid lead, in which would be placed various propitiatory fruits and herbs, such as apples and sarsaparilla, and over which, once welded shut, a male sheep would be sacrificed
.


This casket, he said, should be taken to sea and sunk to the bottom, since Changó's power was much circumscribed by water
.


Of course I was now faced with a truly appalling dilemma. Major Shroud had agreed voluntarily to be possessed of this spirit, and had turned the tide of battle most decisively in our favor. Almost single-handedly, he had prevented the rout of our divisions and the taking of Richmond. Yet it was clear that he had become a threat of unimaginable magnitude not only to our enemies but to ourselves. Even as I discussed this matter with Major General Maitland and other officers, a duty sergeant came to advise us that Major Shroud had become so uncontrollably furious and violent that his guards had been obliged to shackle him with the chains which were normally used to secure the cannon
.


John warned that Changó was one of the fiercest and most warlike of all Santería gods and that he would not easily be consigned to his casket. He therefore suggested that all of the remaining volunteers should go through the ceremony of possession, which would give them the combined strength to restrain Major Shroud while he was thus imprisoned
.


I was very reluctant to approve this course of action, since there was obviously a risk that the other eleven men would also be possessed forever by their respective gods, and represent eleven times more danger to the Federal forces and to those around us as Major Shroud. John, however, assured me that this was unlikely. He said that Major Shroud had probably committed an act of vengeance sometime in his past life which had made him especially susceptible to Changó's possession. Evil, he said, would always give a home to evil.

Decker finished his beer. “So that's what they did? They
all
got themselves possessed? And they buried him alive?”

Captain Morello nodded. “Lieutenant General Longstreet says that he fought against their influence like a devil out of hell. There was lightning, and thunder, and several officers and privates were killed or injured. But between them the eleven other volunteers were strong enough to overpower him and lift him into his casket. It was like ‘eleven columns of dazzling light, with a billowing cloak of absolute darkness in the arms.' They filled up the casket with all the apples and herbs that were required to make an offering to Changó. Then the lid was welded shut by the same marine engineers who had worked on the
Hunsley
—the hand-powered submarine that the Confederacy had built in their attempt to break the Union blockade of Chesapeake Bay.”

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