Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Anna began to sob. She fell down onto the cold ground, crying out loud with tears streaming down her face. Her sisters came to her side. Anna’s vision was so blurred by her tears she could barely make out the riders as they merged onto the road and disappeared over a hill. Her sobs turned to hysteria.

“Come inside, Anna,” Maggie coaxed. “They’re gone. There isn’t anything we can do.”

She continued to sob.

“Please, Anna,” begged Abigail. “Please come inside.”

After what seemed like hours, their big sister sniffled, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and slowly stood. Leaning on Maggie for support, she wailed, “Oh, God! Dear God! Please don’t let anything bad happen to him!”

Abigail said, “Don’t fret, Anna. “Nothing bad will happen. I gave him back his buckeye.”

Amazed at her little sister’s assured prophesy, Anna smiled through her sobs. Maggie handed her a handkerchief. Remembering where she had hidden her wedding ring, she reached down into her corset to retrieve it.

“Oh! It’s gone.” She started crying uncontrollably again.

“What’s gone?” Maggie asked.

“My ring!” she cried. She desperately walked through the house, retracing her steps while she stared at the floor. “It isn’t here.”

“Your wedding ring?” asked Maggie.

“Yes! It isn’t here.”

“Don’t fret, we’ll find it,” said Abigail.

She started to follow Anna outside, but Maggie pulled her back.

“Take Renegade and go fetch Patrick,” she ordered. “Hurry!”

Abigail ran off toward the barn. She promptly galloped by on bareback while Anna and Maggie searched around in the dead grass and frozen earth. Patrick soon returned with their little sister and stepped down from Erin.

“What’s this, lass?” he asked, approaching Anna, who was on her hands and knees. “Abigail has informed me somethin’s happened.”

Rising to her feet, she threw herself at him. Embarrassed, he gently wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, Patrick,” she wailed. “They’ve taken him!”

“Who?” he asked, glancing at Maggie.

Abigail finished putting Renegade back in his stall and ran across the barnyard to join them.

“David! They’ve taken him!” Anna sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder.

“Who’s taken him?”

“Stephen came with two other soldiers, and they took him away,” Maggie explained.

Patrick’s eyes grew wide. “Jaysus, Meery, and Joseph,” he said. “They discovered who he was, then?”

Anna looked up at him and nodded.

He stroked her head sympathetically.

“Where on earth did that horrid jacket come from?” she wondered out loud.

“I told you, remember?”

They turned to look at Abigail.

She hesitantly continued. “The night he rode here, the night Claudia and I found him in the barn, he was holding it. I stuffed it into the wall because it was all bloody and icky.” She wrinkled her nose.

Anna sobbed again.

Maggie shook her head.

“What were you doin’ down there on the ground?” Patrick asked.

“I didn’t want Stephen to see my wedding ring, so I hid it in my corset. It fell out, and now it’s lost!” Anna buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Now, now, lass,” he comforted. “Girls, take your sister into the house,” he said softly. “I’ll find the ring.” Turning her gently, he released Anna to her sisters.

Maggie reeled. “It’s my fault,” she said to Patrick, trying not to cry.

Anna stopped on the porch to hear their conversation.

“What’s your fault, lass?”

“It’s my fault David was arrested.”

“No it isn’t, Maggie,” Anna said through her tears.

“Why do you say that?” asked Patrick.

“I didn’t help him. I didn’t do what he requested. Oh, Patrick. I’m a terrible person.”

Anna sobbed.

“No, you’re not, me darlin’ Maggie.”

“Yes, I am. All this time, I’ve been threatening to turn him in. And now he’s been arrested.”

“Well, ‘tis no fault of your own. Stephen Montgomery is a despicable creature, and I’ve known it all along. There’ll be no forgivin’ the likes of him. He’ll have hell to pay for hurtin’ our darlin’ Anna. And for what he’s got in store for that poor soul, David. Now go tend to your sister. I’ll be there in a wee bit.”

Maggie sighed and did as she was told.

Anna watched Patrick drop down onto the frosty ground and start his search. She allowed her little sisters to lead her into the house. Once inside, the reality hit her. Her husband was gone. She wailed in terrible agony.

 

 

 

The four men rode several miles, saying nary a word. Stephen commanded the other two Yankees. They led their horses through a patch of scrub oaks and undergrowth to a farmer’s pond for a drink, and dismounted. Lieutenant Marks ordered their prisoner down. David swung his right leg over the mule’s back and slid off, his hands securely handcuffed in front of him.

“I’ll wager he’s a spy,” remarked Corporal Hunter.

Stephen nodded in agreement. “You’re not even a cousin of theirs, are you, Secesh,” he said. He walked around David, who stood silently. “Or should I call you Zeke?”

David glowered at the reference.

“You found a way to convince those dear girls the farm belongs to you. Well, the truth has finally come out. Fortunately, no one has been hurt.”

Corporal Hunter straightened from collecting a drink, water dripping from his chin. “Not yet,” he said sarcastically. He walked up to his prisoner and struck him across the face. David staggered to gain his footing. The coat Anna had given him, along with his butternut jacket, flew to the ground. He glared at the corporal with detestation. The corporal wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve and laughed.

“Here’s another one for you, Zeke.”

He punched David in the stomach. Lieutenant Marks joined in. They took turns hitting him, causing him to buckle in agony. Stephen watched with a bemused countenance. After each blow, the soldiers paused to laugh.

David groaned in pain. His face was lacerated and his right eye was blackened. His mouth filled with blood. He spat it into Stephen’s face. In retaliation, Stephen pistol-whipped him hard across the face and sent him reeling to the ground. The two bulky Yankees pounced on him like hogs on a carcass. They beat him into the bramble and repeatedly kicked him until he was as helpless as a branded calf.

Finally, Stephen called off his cohorts, putting an end to the viscid assault. The three Federals stood looking down at their writhing, bloodied victim.

“I think he’s had enough,” said Corporal Hunter. “Live and let live, after all.”

The three men chuckled.

“Get him up,” Stephen barked, wiping his face with a handkerchief.

They gruffly pulled David up by his arms. He groaned in anguish. Blood ran down his face. His lower lip was split open. They led him over to a mule and forced him to climb back up. Corporal Hunter began to sing, and Lieutenant Marks joined in. The melody was “Dixie’s Land,” but they changed the lyrics.

“Away down South in the land of traitors,

Rattlesnakes, and alligators,

Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Right down upon the ranks of Rebels,

Tramp them underfoot like pebbles,

March away, march away, march away, victory’s band.

Then they’ll wish they were in Dixie, away, away,

Each Dixie boy must understand, that he must mind his Uncle Sam

Away, away, we’ll all go down to Dixie,

Away, away, we’ll all go down to Dixie!”

The men rode on until they reached the railway station in York. David noticed through his pain that the streets were nearly empty, which somewhat relieved the humiliation he was experiencing. His right eye had swollen shut, and a sharp pain cut into his chest with every breath he took.

The Bluecoats dismounted, tied their horses, and yanked him from the mule.

Stephen extracted his pocket watch. Glancing down at it, he said, “The train will be here in about an hour.”

“What should we do until then?” asked Corporal Hunter. “Take Zeke behind the coal shed and teach him another lesson?”

The two large soldiers laughed demonically.

David looked at Stephen. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of compassion cross his face.

“Give him something to eat,” Stephen told them. “It could be his last meal, for all we know.”

“Where are y’all sendin’ me?” David hoarsely asked.

“The train leaves for Elmira in an hour. It’ll make a few stops along the way to pick up other Rebel traitors such as yourself,” explained Corporal Hunter.

“There’s a new camp up there we hear is just the place for cowards like you,” Lieutenant Marks added.

“Yes, and it’s in your home state,” Stephen said with sarcastic emphasis. “New York.”

The three Yankees snickered.

Corporal Hunter withdrew some hardtack from his saddlebag and poked it into their captive’s mouth. Repulsed by the dry, stale consistency, David grimaced before spitting it out. Lieutenant Marks scoffed.

“You might be regretting that, Johnny,” he remarked scornfully.

Stephen knelt down. He lifted David’s chin and gave him a drink from his canteen, but all he could taste was his own blood. His head throbbed; the ringing in his left ear was deafening. His entire body hurt. Forced to sit on the cold, hard ground with his back against the side of the depot, he squeezed his eyes shut, struggled to remain conscious, and clenched his teeth in misery.

Finally, a locomotive approached the depot. The Yankees pulled David to his feet. Uncontrollably, he let out a moan. The three soldiers dragged him to the train. David thought it was the most terrible thing he had ever seen. Smoke billowed from its smokestack like the breath of a smoldering black dragon. Its long body stretched down the track into the dark, frigid Pennsylvania countryside. Steam rose from the tracks like phantom vapor. Numerous Bluecoats emerged from the stalled locomotive.

Stephen removed David’s handcuffs. Draping the jacket and coat across his shoulders, he hissed, “If somehow you manage to survive this, don’t ever consider going back there again. Because if you do, I’ll cut you down myself.”

He motioned to Corporal Hunter, who held his pistol erect, forcing his captive to stagger over to one of the opened cattle cars. Each misty breath painfully escaped David as they went up the ramp. Hunter gave him a shove, nearly causing him to fall.

“Have a fine trip,” he said, laughing, and stomped down the ramp.

David glanced around at several other Confederates inside. Their faces were dark and expressionless. A few were shoeless. Their breath drifted from them in ghostly wisps. Making his way to the corner, he sat beside an old Rebel who barely acknowledged him.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Lieutenant Marks hollered.

He and Corporal Hunter chuckled. They walked away with Stephen, who didn’t bother looking back at the disaster he’d created.

The door to the cattle car was pulled shut. It slammed with a confining, hollow echo. The train slowly pulled from the station, beginning its long journey through the cold December night.

“Looks to me like them Yankees got hold a you good, boy,” the old Rebel commented.

David closed his eyes and grimaced in agony. Remembering the look on Anna’s face distressed him tremendously. Guilt for making her suffer overwhelmed him. He reasoned he deserved whatever was coming his way. Whatever awaited him couldn’t be any worse.

His thoughts drifted back to the last time he had been brutally beaten. It was the night before his enlistment. A schoolmate, Tom Caldwell, had threatened to destroy him. Tom believed his father had died due to David’s father’s irresponsibility and neglect. Both fathers had served together in the 4th Alabama Infantry Regiment, and both had died at Fredericksburg. The result had been horrendous. David had unintentionally destroyed Tom instead.

He leaned against the cold wall of the boxcar and rocked with the rhythmic, gyrating motion of the train. The wheels below him loudly rumbled as they rolled along the track. He vowed for the same outcome as his confrontation with Tom. When he returned to Anna, he would destroy Stephen. This time, it would be intentional.