Читать книгу Confederate Money - Paul Varnes - Страница 13

Loaded with newly purchased supplies, we arrived at Coon’s house at mid-afternoon. We also brought a bolt of blue cloth and a new bonnet for Ella Mae. The blueticks announced our arrival before they recognized Coon. After they recognized him I thought they would wag their tails off as they ran around his mule.

Ella Mae came sort of half running toward us, not saying a word. Just seeing her, my heart was beating all the way up in my throat. God knows I was taken with that woman.

She then got Henry and me by the hands and walked us to the horse pen as she chattered away. “You all have been gone for so long. What happened? I want to hear all about it. It’s really good to have you back. I was so worried I could have died. You need to stay here and don’t be running off.”

It was shortly before dark and we had finished supper when Henry stood and said, “I’m going to check the horses before going to bed.”

Ella Mae got to her feet and said, “You three clean up and wash the dishes. I’ll go close the chicken coop.”

Though wanting to go with them, I couldn’t very well after she said that. I dried while Mary washed the dishes. Mary soon distracted me a little from thinking about Ella Mae. At almost twelve, she had started to develop physically beyond her years. I got a good look when she reached around to scratch between her shoulder blades. When her loose flour sack dress got tight across the front, there was the evidence of her maturity holding her dress out in a couple of places.

Even after getting in my bedroll that night I thought about being left in the house. While fretting about it until I went to sleep, I also fantasized about both Ella Mae and Mary.

Henry and I stayed there for several days. Henry practiced every day with his revolver, not shooting it so much as just getting it out and level in different directions. The two of us also read the medical book daily. We had been through it twice and were starting a third time. Henry had copies of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. His mother had given him those. Using those books, he soon had Mary and Coon reading regular. Ella Mae seemed to have little interest in reading. Other than cooking and cleaning, caring for the horses, and gathering wood, none of us did any work except for Ella Mae and Mary. They worked at making their blue dresses.

Though I was quite content and wasn’t aware of it, Henry had become restless. In fact, I wasn’t aware at all until supper one night when he said, “It’s time we got on down to your ma’s house, Ben. I think we should be there before Christmas.”

Trying to think fast, I responded, “There’s no hurry. They’re fine. But I guess we should go.”

With all my fantasies, I didn’t know how to get out of going or what else to say.

Ella Mae saved me by saying, “We could all go. We could find a place to live around there somewhere. There’s nothing to do here and it’s awful lonely in these woods. It would be nice to live close to someone.”

The next morning we went to Blountstown. Arriving there at mid-morning, we found that CSA troops were still in charge of the Apalachicola River, except for the blockade at its mouth. If they ever lost control of that big river, the Yankees could have moved troops on it all the way into Georgia. Seeing a dray behind a store as we walked the town, Henry spoke to the owner about it.

“I assume you own the dray behind the store.”

“You assume right.”

“I’d be interested in buying it.”

“I’ll take five dollars.”

“Confederate paper.”

“Silver.”

“Three dollars silver.”

The owner laughed, “It’s worth five.”

“Maybe in paper, and when there’s a use for it,” Henry said. “Right now the Union has the mouth of the river blockaded and there’s not much to haul. You can sell it to me or take your chances later.”

The owner scratched his head and said, “I’ll take four in silver or gold.”

“Five in Confederate paper,” Henry said, counting out the money. “We’ll be back after we look around.”

In May of 1861 Confederate paper money was worth five percent less than silver. By October it was worth ten percent less, and by November it was worth fifteen percent less. When Henry bought the dray in December, a Confederate dollar was only worth eighty cents in coin.

Henry stopped a passing captain, showed him our papers from General Bragg, and said, “Sir, we’re thinking about going east to Lake City and were wondering about the railroad from Jacksonville. Do you know where it ends coming this way?”

The captain replied, “The tracks haven’t got west of Tallahassee. They go up to Quincy and down to St. Marks from Tallahassee. Going east, they go all the way to Jacksonville. In Baldwin, there are also connections to Fernandina and Cedar Key. It doesn’t look like Florida’s legislature will ever agree to connect Florida’s tracks to the Georgia or Alabama tracks.”

“Much obliged,” Henry said, and we moved on.

Returning for the dray, we hitched up the mule and started home. I then realized that Ella Mae and Mary would be riding on the dray in the future. I was the loser. Neither of them would be sitting behind me on my horse with their arms around me.

We packed that night, and left going east for the Suwannee and home the next morning. After getting ferried across the Apalachicola River, we set as straight a line as we could for Tallahassee. Because of the dray having such a low axle, we had to stick to roads as much as possible. It took four days to get to Tallahassee. With CSA forces garrisoned there, and the various people moving there from the coast to take refuge, Tallahassee was full of people.

When challenged by CSA troops in Tallahassee, Henry showed our pass from General Bragg. As was the case many times, those soldiers didn’t look at our papers. I don’t think many of those who stopped us from time to time could read. Henry always told them what was in the paper he was handing them. Most of them just took his word for it. Like those who stopped us at other times, the soldiers in Tallahassee became polite and waved us on. They probably only wanted to look at Ella Mae and Mary anyway.

Henry posted three letters from Tallahassee: one to his ma in Archer, one to his Aunt May who lived outside Lulu, and one to Miss Daisy in Cedar Key. Lulu is a settlement ten miles southeast of Lake City, Florida. All three letters said the same thing.

December 14, 1861

Dear Ma,

I hope this finds you in good health. Mine is fine.

My work in Pensacola being finished, Pa can rest easy. Although the Tahomas was not there, four good and able men were found to serve in the place of its crew.

Along with traveling companions, I hope to arrive at Aunt May’s house in early January. God willing, I’ll make it a point to be there by January 15. I hope to see you there.

If you see Miss Daisy or Doctor Isaac, give them my love and blessing. If they aren’t otherwise occupied, they might wish to travel to Aunt May’s also.

Your obedient son,

Henry F.

Not much else happened in Tallahassee. There was one dogfight, which didn’t last very long. The blueticks got the best of it. We kept them on the dray after that until we got out of town. Also, Henry turned eighteen in Tallahassee. He was a man grown in body and mind if not in years. After getting a few supplies, we moved on. Even with buying supplies we still had the money we took from those Federal soldiers at the fort.

A couple of hours east of Tallahassee we were challenged by three CSA soldiers without horses. Leveling their guns at us, they commanded us to halt. Actually, their guns were leveled at Henry and me. We were on horseback. Ella Mae, Mary, and Coon were on the dray.

Henry said, “We have a pass from General Bragg.”

A sergeant replied, “Never mind a pass, boy. Get down. We need horses for artillery wagons. We’re taking the mule and dray too. Get down now.”

Things didn’t look real good. No one had ever challenged the pass and I couldn’t see those three being associated with any artillery unit. Anyway, artillery isn’t moved on wagons. Real artillery soldiers would have said it different. They would have said something about caissons, guns, rifles, or mortars. Or they would have named their unit or the brand of their field piece.

During the past weeks I had come to sense when Henry was about to do something. I got the feeling then. To distract their attention from him, I moved my reins to my right hand, raised my left hand, and said, “It’s a good pass, Sergeant. General Bragg gave it to us.”

I thought that raising my left hand and speaking would distract them from Henry. Also, taking the reins in my right hand put it close to the butt of Doctor Isaac’s dueling pistol.

Moving at the same time I spoke, Henry started to dismount by swinging his right leg back and over his horse. The move looked like he was just following orders, but it also placed his horse between him and the soldiers. As he was settling to the ground, and was shielded from view by the horse, Henry drew his pistol and shot over the top of his horse. His first bullet hit the sergeant in the chest and his second bullet took one of the privates out.

When Henry’s movement distracted them from me, I pulled the dueling pistol and shot the other private in the chest. At the same instant Coon shot him with his squirrel rifle. The sound of Henry’s second shot, my shot, and Coon’s shot were so near the same time that it was a couple of seconds before I realized they had also shot. I was wondering why both privates fell until I saw the smoke from Coon and Henry’s guns.

Henry said, “Something’s not right here but we’re not going to stay around to find out what. Coon, get their weapons and get the dray moving. Ben, help me drag them out of the road.”

After putting their weapons on the dray, Coon left.

Looping a rope around their legs and over our saddle horns, Henry and I dragged them two hundred yards into the woods. Once shielded from the road by the vegetation around a small pond, we also went through their pockets and packs. Though carrying no papers of any kind, they had three dollars in silver and eight dollars in Confederate paper money, which we took. After putting pine straw over them, Henry used a pine bough to brush out the trail we left while dragging them into the woods.

As I reflected on the situation, I began to think those old boys wanted the horses for riding and also wanted Ella Mae and Mary. But then we’ll never know for sure.

An hour before dark Henry stopped us and said, “You all go ahead. I’m going to stay here until dark and see that no one is following us. If there are people following, I’m going to give them cause to chase me for awhile. Ben, give me your horse. Two horses will make a better trail if I have to lead them off. I can also switch back and forth to a fresh horse and keep them from catching me. Don’t use a fire when you camp tonight.”

I offered to do it but I knew, and Henry knew, he could do it better. Neither of us said that though.

We waited until full dark to camp that night. Unable to find us in the dark, Henry slept a half-mile from us. He found us a few minutes after first light the next morning. Going without breakfast, other than some cold biscuits and syrup, we pulled out right away. Henry checked our back trail several times that morning but didn’t find any pursuit.

Thirty miles out of Tallahassee at noon that day, we crossed the Aucilla River. We were still sixty miles from home. At that point Henry again spoke about covering our back trail.

“Ben, I’m going to take your horse, enough food for a couple of days, and my bed roll and wait on the other side of the river. You don’t have to worry about anybody following you. I’ll not join you until after it rains enough to wipe out any sign you make from the river to home. When you break camp, don’t leave any trash or other sign of the camp; and after having a fire, put the coals in a bucket until you find water, then throw them in the water. You’ll just disappear on this side of the Aucilla.”

Ella Mae hugged him. Seeing her ma do it, Mary hugged him too. We didn’t shake hands. Henry, Coon, and I were beyond that.

The trip was uneventful from there on. Due to a broken wheel, however, it took us four days to make the sixty miles home.