A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (34 page)

The farm boy soon returned with a mount. James was ordered to walk ahead of the horses, down the road, and into the woods. Glancing toward the treetops he saw many squirrel nests, but they passed them by. He kept on walking and before long, they had covered perhaps two miles.

Finally, Tabor called a halt and James turned to face him and the farm boy private. The black-hearted masochist lounged in the saddle and stared down at James as if he were setting the stage for a big performance. At length he said, “I got a little story to tell you, Private. I worked for many years as the overseer on Langdon Plantation. The owner was John Langdon, a good man and a good Southerner. Like all good men, he put his family first; gave them everything they needed and everything they wanted. He had this son that he treated like a king would treat a prince. He taught him all the things a boy needed to know to grow into a fine gentleman. He saw to it that the boy had a good education. Because of John Langdon, his son would one day inherit a wonderful future. Now you would think that this boy would repay his father with loyalty and respect. You would think he would give his life before turning against his family.”

“I reckon I sure would have,” said the private.

“You and me both,” Tabor replied. “I never even knew my old man and my ma raised me in the same room of the Louisiana whorehouse where she did business, and I still stood by my homeland when trouble came. But this rich boy, this ungrateful son of a bitch, he turned traitor to his family and his country. He sided with what should have been his nigger lovin enemies. He ran out on his father when he was crippled, which, by the way, worried his mother into an early grave.”

Tabor was trying his best to get at James's insides and he was succeeding magnificently. Technically, much of what the man said was true; deep in James's heart, it was not. Still, it hurt and he wished that if Tabor was going to kill him that he would just shut up and do it.

“What would you do with a piece of shit like that, Private?” said Tabor.

“I reckon I'd shoot him,” was the reply.

“You ever shoot a man, Private?”

“No, sir. I only been in the army for a year. They stuck me here as a guard. Never got a chance to fight at the front.”

“Then I guess it would do you some good to shoot this traitor, rid the South of one more enemy.” The young man hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yes, sir.” He didn't sound sure.

“Problem is, a bullet would be too quick and easy. I heard that the soldiers who caught this lowlife wanted to shoot him, too. Then they got a better idea. They brought him to Andersonville. Well now,
I
got a better idea. Seeins how he sides with the niggers, I figure he should be punished like a trouble makin nigger, and a trouble makin nigger gets this.” Tabor untied the leather strap and held the bullwhip out for James to see. “I'm gonna whip this traitor and if there's anything left when I'm done, you can put a bullet in it.” Tabor got down from his horse and rummaged in his saddle bag for a length of rope. The farm boy sat his horse with a rifle across his lap.

James knew that he could not survive a whipping and even if he did he'd be finished with a bullet. Tabor advanced toward him. “You got anything to say before I carry out the sentence?”

“I won't defend myself to the likes of you. Do what you will and get it over with.”

Tabor was not satisfied. He obviously wanted James to plead for his life. Maybe there was some advantage in that. “I think you talk so much because it helps you to forget your cowardice, Tabor.”

“What did you say to me?”

“You heard me. Beating on someone whose hands are tied makes you feel strong. Hunting an unarmed man with guns and dogs has you convinced that you're brave. But you're just a gutless coward. That's why
you
are not at the front. That's why
you
weaseled your way into that human pigsty, to fight against men who wouldn't have the strength to fight back.”

The ploy worked. Tabor lost his self control and his judgment. He stood six feet away, chest heaving, nostrils flaring. Suddenly he threw his right fist into James's jaw. The blow knocked James to the ground. By now it was dusk and very nearly dark in the woods. As James lay in a heap, Tabor drew back the whip. He snapped his wrist; the crack sounded like a gunshot, but it missed its target by a foot. Cursing profusely, he cracked the whip again. This time it struck James's right hand but before Tabor could pull it back, James grabbed the end, wrapped it around his fingers and held on tight. With all his reserve, he yanked the whip and Tabor, whose grip also held firm, stumbled forward. A dead tree branch got tangled between his heavy boots. At least sixty pounds overweight, Tabor fell hard; face down on the ground.  Ignoring the farm boy, James crawled on his hands and knees as fast as he could, climbed on top of the prostrate man, and wrapped the whip tightly around his throat.

Tabor kicked wildly and dug his fingers into the ground but the fall had knocked the wind out of him. If not for that, he could have rolled James off his back easily. Unable to fight back, in just minutes, he died by the whip he had lived by. James quoted the bible, saying, “The light of the wicked shall be put out.” The night was all dark for Tabor now.

James sat back and relaxed his grip. It was only then that he remembered the farm boy. He looked over and saw him silhouetted against the night sky. He was sitting perfectly still. Why hadn't he joined in? Why hadn't he shot James, saving Tabor's life? James stood up and waited a moment for his knees to stop shaking. As he walked over to the silent soldier, he heard something hit the ground. The young man had dropped his rifle. “I hope you won't kill me, mister.”

His voice quivered and James was pretty sure he was sobbing. “Of course I won't kill you but I can't help wondering why you didn't kill me.”

“I couldn't do that. I guess I'm the coward here. I ain't never shot a man and I never want to. I was forced to join the army, that's why I'm here. I just talked tough earlier because Tabor expected me to. I'm glad it didn't come down to him makin me shoot you.”

“Not wanting to kill doesn't make you a coward. It proves that you are a decent human being and that is something far more difficult to find these days. I'm very sorry that I had to kill Tabor.”

“He didn't give you much choice. Maybe he had it comin. I seen him do some terrible things to the prisoners. My pa always said you reap what you sow.”

“Where are you from, Private?”

“Just outside Chattanooga. Pa and I raise hogs.”

“Well I am very thankful that I met you,” said James. “I consider that you saved my life. I have to get out of here. I'm taking Tabor's horse. I'm afraid that I have caused you trouble though. What will you tell them when you get back?”

“I'm not goin back, I'm goin home. The war's over. We get news every day. Gen'ral Lee is expected to surrender any time now. I reckon they won't send anyone lookin for me. Why don't you ride with me? You can stay with Pa and me til you get your strength back.” James thought it over.

“That's a kind offer, Private.”

“You can call me Ely, Ely Anderson.”

“You can call me James. But the war isn't over yet and you're in gray and I'm in blue. That might cause a problem.”

“I got a flannel shirt and a pair of work britches in my saddle bag. You're welcome to em.”

James realized that God had not abandoned him after all; proven by his escape from Andersonville. Meeting Ely was also a blessing. He changed into the civilian clothing and the two of them headed west. Hopefully, it would be some time the following day before Tabor's body was discovered. By then they would be a long way from the prison. James was in desperate need of decent food and a bath, but the fresh air of the outside world was a vast improvement. They did not see a single soldier, blue or gray, during the ride to Chattanooga. It seemed like the war was already over.

 

TWENTY-NINE

 

Endings

 

 

It was mid-afternoon when they reached the farm where Ely lived with his pa. It was a modest little place but very well kept; even the hog pens sported a fresh coat of paint. Compared with much of the South, the farm seemed to have escaped the ravages of war.

Ely and his pa were good Christian folk and quite generous with their hospitality. Mr. Anderson was about the same age as James's own father. He was a sinewy man with callous hardened hands and gentle blue eyes. But what impressed James the most was the older man's reaction when he found out that his son had aided and abetted a Yankee soldier.

“I never did believe in secession and I don't hold with slavery,” he said. “I am sorry for the man, Tabor, but my boy tells me that he would have killed you, James. You're welcome here for as long as you like.”

It wasn't hard to understand Ely's temperament after meeting his pa. James found himself wishing that his own father shared some of Mr. Anderson's qualities. He had always believed that his father was a God fearing man but he also knew that the bible says man cannot serve two masters. That, James concluded, was the mistake John Langdon had made.

After a week of resting and eating to the point of feeling guilty, James was able to throw a respectable shadow again. He pleaded with the Andersons to allow him to work off his debt, but they would not hear of it. He relaxed on the front porch and wrote a long letter to Polly, which Mr. Anderson graciously offered to take to the post office.

On the 10
th
of April, after a hearty country breakfast, the Andersons set out for town to purchase supplies. By this time, James had become quite attached to his benefactors. As difficult as it was, he decided that when they returned, he would tell them he would be moving on. He had no idea where Sherman's army was but he knew he needed to find it and rejoin his outfit.

James was in the barn tending to his horse when he heard the wagon coming down the road. Then he heard something else that made him hurry to the doorway to investigate. The horse and wagon were racing for the house like a fire engine heading for a blaze. Ely and his pa were whooping and hollering and raising enough dust for a stampede. James ran out to meet the two excited men without an idea as to what might have set them off.

The wagon had not come to a complete stop before Ely jumped off waving a newspaper, then holding it out so that James could see the front page. “Lee surrenders army of northern Virginia”, was the headline. James could hardly believe it was real. A warm, wonderful feeling came over him as he took the paper and read the whole story. Lee had surrendered to General U.S. Grant at a place called Appomattox Court House in Virginia. The ceremony had taken place at the home of Wilmer McLean. There were still Confederate armies in the field, the story related, but they were expected to capitulate soon. The Confederate Government, Jefferson Davis, and members of his cabinet had fled south and were being pursued by Union troops.

The war, in effect, was over. James tossed the paper into the air; there were handshakes and back slapping all around. Then Ely's pa called for a moment of silence and the three men prayed for the many that had not lived to see that happy day.

Eventually, the momentous excitement subsided, but a peaceful feeling remained in the aftermath. James decided to stay one more night with the Andersons. The following day would hold a brand new beginning. The first thing he would do was go into Chattanooga and resign his commission. He wanted no more to do with the army. After that, with no fear of any more obstacles, he would go to Langdon Plantation and see his father. Finally, he would go home to Mapletown and promise Polly that he would never again leave her side.

It was not easy getting to sleep that night. The next morning he was awake before daylight. Fortunately, the Andersons were early risers. James was far too restless to stay in bed any longer. He dressed quickly and went to the kitchen, received morning greetings, and returned the same. He shoveled another delectable breakfast then prepared to be on his way. “I have no means to repay you for all your kindness. I owe my life to all that you've done.”

“It was our privilege to be of help, James,” said Mr. Anderson. “You're a fine young man and we'd be pleased to hear from you when you get resettled. It would be repayment enough to know that you are safe at home with your wife and son.”

“I assure you that I will keep in touch. God bless you both.” Driven by a spontaneous need, James embraced Mr. Anderson and then Ely. He felt no less than if he were saying goodbye to family.

Leaving the army was as easy as signing some papers and collecting some back pay; rather unceremonious after all he'd been through. Still, he felt that it had all been worthwhile. It had brought him to the day when he believed, at least, that all serious tragedy was in the past.

Of course, once again, he was contemplating the reunion with his father. But James still felt a great deal of love for the man, and if his father cared for him the injury to feelings
could
be overcome.

It would be a long day's ride to Macon but James did not feel like pushing hard on this trip. He decided, in fact, to ride as far as Atlanta; spend the night, then continue the following day. After four years of high anxiety and low depression, punctuated by physical injuries, he just wanted to relax his mental posture. He didn't feel like hurrying anything. He imagined that most of the people in the country felt the same way. It was time to catch their breath before getting on with their lives. With the fighting nearly at an end, accounting and accountability were at hand. It was time to welcome home the men God had spared and sing dirges for those he hadn't. It would be many years before the wounds would heal and many more to carry the scars.

James tried hard to consider himself lucky and could have if not for the loss of his dear mother. Now that he was at the end of his mission, she was the one he'd miss the most. If only he could see her one more time. Her death so very much increased the importance of making peace with his father.