Destination Hope - Book 5 - Reconciliation - Chapter 7

Everyone knows some decisions are harder than others. As a follower of Jesus, the Supreme Judge of the Universe, it’s important to render reasoned decisions rather than emotional ones. I have to applaud Senator Susan Collins of Maine for her sound approach to voting for Judge (now Justice) Kavanaugh’s confirmation. She upheld her oath to preserve and protect the Constitution. There have been times, when the Federal Government abused its powers and used oaths to control behavior. This chapter demonstrates one of those times.

For new readers, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2-4 are located under the month of September 2018 and Chapters 5 and 6 under October 2018.

Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation

A Novel By:

Charles J. Patricoff

Copyright © 2014 by Charles J. Patricoff. All rights reserved.

Chapter 7

Submission

One unintended benefit of accurate Yankee artillerists was that the vast majority of Petersburg, Virginia, homes endured the long seize unharmed, for all practical purposes. Because the Yankees preserved and, where needed, reconstructed the railroad line between City Point and Petersburg, it did not take the army long to provision the occupying Federal soldiers and citizens of the city. Food and other necessities provided some sense of order for all.

The two hostile armies had overrun this region of Virginia for the last two years and now it was a scene of desolation. Marauding bands of the depraved and soulless took advantage of others’ misery. The disorder demanded a response. Yankee soldiers patrolled to break up, drive off, or hold at bay the hordes hovering about the many towns and farmhouses, Petersburg included.

The two-story, three-bedroom Nesbit home on High Street near the center of town had received additional mouths to feed since the surrender of arms. Former Confederate officers, Michael LeConte and Marvin Jenkins thrilled their respective spouses when they showed up the afternoon of April sixteenth. So far, vandals spared the house, but now in the middle of May, the inhabitants prepared for defense.

Worse, what little food they had, ran out. Hungry, the family members swallowed their pride and decided to appeal to the Federal Army’s quartermaster and obtain sustenance from its commissary.

“I wish Marvin could have come with us,” Mrs. Margaret Jenkins opined.

Former Confederate Colonel Michael LeConte repeated their earlier decision. “I understand, Margaret. However, we had to approach this errand like a military operation. Someone needed to stay home and protect it from looters. Between your father and husband, I’m confident they’ll be able to defend it from being robbed or burned to the ground.”

Mrs. Louise LeConte commented, “I am so glad the Yankees let you keep your sidearm.”

“I understand General Lee is responsible.” Michael said, patting the revolver holstered under his long, tan, civilian outer jacket.

Louise and Margaret’s mother, Mrs. Abigail Nesbit, said, “I pray you don’t have to use it.”

Carrying empty cloth bags, ten-year-old Lewis and eight-year-old Conner lagged behind. They turned their wide-eyed faces at each other. Conner pointed his right index finger at his older brother and pretended to shoot him. The two boys laughed as the six neared the Federal commissary set up on the south bank of the Appomattox River.

“I can’t tell you how many times me and Star crossed the river,” Michael said.

“That’s another thing,” Margaret said. “I wish we would have brought your horse.”

“Star is safer back in the barn behind the house.”

“But we would have been able to carry more food.”

“And, we would be a more tempting target. If one of those evil bands attacks us, they could steal our food and my horse.”

“I haven’t seen any disturbances,” Margaret said.

Michael pointed to the two trailing boys. “It’s not empty bags that draw attention. Our challenge will be reaching home with them full.”

As they reached the commissary grounds, Margaret whispered to her older sister, Louise, “I wish we had some more men with us.”

Once inside, in an instant they observed Yankee ingenuity and organization. The herd of people—civilians, former soldiers, and former slaves—stepped at a snail’s pace along a snaking rope line. It directed all recipients of Federal government aid to move in a one-way direction, as they proceeded up and down aisles lined with a variety of foodstuffs.

However, before they could enter the line, a sign with large, bold print declared, “By order of the United States Government, all beneficiaries of Federal subsistence shall first declare by oath their allegiance to the United States.”

As the adults stared at the offensive words, a Yankee Private shouted, “They can’t come in here.”

Shaking her head, Louise asked, “Excuse me.” She noticed her husband’s command with his eyes and added, “Sir?”

Michael stepped forward and addressed the soldier. “I’m sorry, Private, I don’t understand. There are other Negroes here.”

“They ain’t children. Do you see any children in here?”

Michael scanned the warehouse. “No, I don’t. Why not?”

“They steal food and waste it.”

Michael’s forehead furrowed. “Where do they go? What do we do with them while we’re in here?”

“I don’t care, but they can’t be in here.”

Margaret took the canvas bags from Lewis and Conner. “You boys go outside and wait for us.” She stood erect and searched the building. She pointed to the far east wall and said, “Wait for us outside over there. We’ll come out that door. Do you see it?”

Lewis rose up on the tips of his toes and said, “Yes’m.”

“Alright then, Lewis; take Conner and go. We’ll be along directly.”

The boys had to wait for a break in the flow of the incoming human flood. They slipped outside. The crisis resolved.

Margaret marched to the soldiers officiating the oath and corresponding paperwork. “What’s this oath business all about, soldier?”

The supervising sergeant said. “You want to eat, lady, swear allegiance to the government.”

Louise said, “Margaret don’t.”

Margaret appealed in her sweetest, Southern Belle, tone. “Can you explain to me why this is necessary?”

“Strict orders, ma’am. You want food from the government, we want some assurance you aren’t going to use it to help Rebels still fighting in the field.”

Several pending patrons in front of Margaret raised their right hands, recited the magic words, signed a piece of paper, passed through the chest-high gate, and took their place at the end of the line.

Margaret asked, “Sergeant, if I fell injured on the street by an accident that was no fault of my own…let’s say one of your supply wagons ran me down…wouldn’t humanity, honor, and compassion command you to render me aid and comfort, including food?”

“Ma’am, I’ve heard it all before. You’re a Rebel. Either take the oath or leave. It’s that simple.”

“As I see it, my only offense is that I reside in the South, and I kept faith with my family over the government. I’ve done nothing to warrant this deprivation.”

Margaret’s mother pulled on her daughter’s arm. “Margaret, it is alright. Let’s do what they want so we can be on our way.”

Margaret faced her mother. “You can go ahead, but I would like to speak with an officer who might be able to explain this to me and to my satisfaction.”

The sergeant stated, “Suit yourself, ma’am.” He switched his attention to the others. “If you want to get in line, step over here and take the oath.”

They did. The fact that Michael complied bothered Margaret. She would discuss it with her husband, Marvin, later. She did not, could not understand how a man who had fought against these people for his freedom and for the freedom of his fellow countrymen and family members, could in good conscious subject himself to this subtle form of servitude.

A young Federal lieutenant observing the loyalty dispute approached. “What seems to be the problem, Sergeant?”

“This woman—” his tone conveyed a clear message— “doesn’t like the oath, sir.”

The lieutenant inspected Margaret. “Is this true, ma’am?”

“Lieutenant, it is not a matter of like. I think it is a matter of common human decency. Besides, I pledge my allegiance to God. Your government has created a conflict of conscious. And what makes you think all of those people meant what they professed, or understood its gravity? To me, you are acting no different then the beast described in the Holy Book of Revelation.”

“Ma’am, I think you are making too much of the issue. It’s a simple oath, then, you can eat.”

“Simple to you, not to me.” Margaret swirled and marched out the entrance.

The sergeant commented loudly enough for Margaret to hear. “Rebels, their pride will be the death of them. I say, let her starve.”

The lieutenant said, “She might have a point.”

Margaret thought, you’re right Yank, I do.

Margaret found Louis and Conner and waited with them until the others appeared from the commissary’s exit loaded with much needed food.

The group were almost home when a voice resounded in their direction. “What cha got in dem dare bags?” Three Negroes jumped out of a tree and landed on the street barring their way. Another remained on his perch and pointed a repeating carbine at the six civilians who carried canvas bags filled with precious food items: potatoes, salted ham, corn, wheat, and rice. Another five roughnecks took up a position behind, blocking any escape. Houses on both sides of the street appeared to have several broken windows, possibly vandalized by this same bunch.

“Hand dem over, and we’ll let you go.”

Michael whispered to his wife. “Take my bag.”

Margaret overheard and said, “I’ll take it.”

Michael handed the bag to Margaret, who was right behind him. The rear five closed the gap. The quick exchange gave Michael a chance to disguise his move and pull his revolver. He had to make every shot count and he needed to get the Bummer in the tree first.

A shot rang out and echoed off the broken homes. Everyone ducked low. The women screamed. The carbine dropped from the tree. The sniper followed, face-planting onto the dirt. A cloud of dust lifted obscuring his condition.

A squad of Yankee United States Colored Troops ran at the double-quick right for the fray. One carried a smoking, Henry, lever-action repeating carbine. A one-armed sergeant appeared to lead the squad.

The surviving marauders dispersed in all directions. Most ran away between the damaged properties.

Michael stood, motioning to the group to keep down.

The sergeant waved his arm and shouted, “Fan out. If you find any of them, administer justice to them.” The sergeant slowed as he came near Michael, his family, and friends, and asked, “You folks alright?”

“Yes, Sergeant.” Michael secured his revolver. “I’m not sure what we would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

Margaret answered for the women and children. “We would have lost everything. Thank you for rescuing us.” She reached behind her. “Boys, come here and thank this fine soldier.”

Lewis and Conner stepped aside from hiding behind the women’s dresses. The sergeant’s eyes lit up with an unexplainable joy. He shouted, “Lewis, Conner.” He dropped to one knee and extended his one yearning arm.

Margaret thought well I’ll be. I wonder how he knows the boys.

That evening, the Nesbit home witnessed a celebration that would rival Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Hebrew Passover all together. The boys wouldn’t give their father a minute of peace—not that he minded, but he did want to show this family as much gratitude and attention as they deserved for their care of his children.

Sergeant Gabriel Bridges sought clarification. “You said you found them at your home in Tennessee?”

Marvin said, “Yes, Sergeant. Margaret convinced me they belonged to a man we later learned the government considered a criminal—Norman Macalister.”

“I always thought he was,” Gabriel said. “I’m sorry, sir. I had a personal dislike for the man.”

“That’s quite all right. Margaret didn’t like him much none neither. Anyway, when I returned to duty last year, Margaret brought the boys here. They have been here ever since.”

Gabriel’s eyes sparkled. “All through the siege?”

Smiling, Lewis answered, “Uh-huh.”

Gabriel said, “I’m so proud of you boys. I can’t wait to send a wire off to your mother, first thing in the morning.”

Michael asked, “You can do that?”

“Yes, sir, Colonel. Ever since most of the hostilities ended, the telegraph office on post, don’t have much to do, and the price of sending a message has come way down.”

“My goodness.” Michael cupped his hands behind his head and leaned his chair back a bit. “I wonder what other changes we’ll see.”

Marvin said, “There’s no telling. We’ve got to get a whole lot of people back to work. Because of what happened today, I fear managing the peace will be more difficult than fighting the war.” Marvin addressed Sergeant Bridges. “I, too, wish to express my gratitude for protecting my beautiful wife. Please extend my appreciation to your men.”

Margret smiled.

“We were just doing our duty, sir, but you are welcome,” Sergeant Gabriel Bridges said. He turned his attention to the head of the household. “Mr. Nesbit, may I ask a considerable favor of you, sir?”

“Seeing that you saved the lives of my lovely wife and precious daughters, how could I refuse?”

Gabriel pushed his glasses up to his nose. “Thank you, sir, but please hear me out.”

Mr. Nesbit nodded.

“I do not have any idea when I will be granted leave to go home and take the boys with me to be with their mother. I can’t have them stay with me in quarters. Sir, if it is not too much to ask, can they continue to stay with you and your wife? I would be happy to pay for their room and board.”

Mr. James Nesbit and his wife exchanged glances. She nodded agreement. Mr. Nesbit fixed his gaze on the day’s rescuer. “Of course.”

“Now that that’s settled, Margaret and I can make our plans for returning to Tennessee.” Marvin swiveled toward the guest of honor. “Speaking of going home, have you or your men heard when you’ll muster out, Sergeant?”

Sergeant Gabriel Bridges wiped his mouth. “Rumors, Major, only rumors. They run army life. But to answer your question, no, we’ve heard nothing official. Regardless, when that day comes, I found army life suits me. I may re-enlist.”

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