“Ah don’no,—ahjes’ don’no, Mista Yates. Oem damn black ab’lis’n’st! Deh tain’t payin’ fer nothin’. Deh tell Miss Molly deh not pay ‘cause she will not need nothing. Deh left de cow and de chicken; deh try to take Black Demon, but Molly, she cries and deh le’ve him. Oem black rascals are good fer nothin’,” and Nanny started to cry.
“Here—there now, Nannie, you mustn’t cry. They will not hurt you. You are not against the Yankees, are you?” asked Andy.
Nanny rolled her white eyes, clapped her hands onto her hips and protruded her head forward nearly shouting, “Not agin em? Not agin ’em? Ah’s agin ’em till de Judgment day.”
“I can’t understand why you are against the Yankees. Their aim is to free all you colored folks. Don’t you want to be free?” asked Andy.
“Hel’es no ah do’n wan’ to be free. No, suh, rather be Molly’s slave den be a free niggah eny,” replied Nanny.
The Dragoon picked up the fork, saying, “Guess I’ll have to eat a little—of it since you have gone to the trouble of cooking if for me, and—and since Molly, at a great sacrifice, had the pig butchered for me.
He ate lightly of the delicious meal that Nanny had prepared for him. As he ate, he was quiet, but many a thought was flashing through his mind. He had convinced himself that escape was the only way. He could not defend himself against the lying LaCrosse . His thoughts centered on the awfulness of war, the insincerity of man, the treachery of his comrades, the love and hate within a human heart. Then he relived his life from first remembrances to the present. Deep in his heart he knew that the love and loyalty of a girl like Molly was worth living for, worth fighting for, and, if need be, worth dying for. He made a vow unto himself never to give up and never to be court-martialed.
He turned to Nanny. “Where is Molly?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I reckon she gone to de store. Her and one of de guards rode off de place about an hour ago. Deh won’t let ’er go off de place anymore ‘less one of dem damn yankee guards am wid ’er. An ah don’t trust dem Yanks. Ah don’t trust ’em, Mista’ Yates,” Nanny answered, shaking her head.
“Nanny, I’m a Yank and what I am doing is to help free your people. Don’t you trust me?” asked Andy.
“I don’t trust you out ‘O dis niggah’s sight. Na, suh. All ya Yanks are alike. You-all getten’ ready to take Molly erway. Dis niggahjes’ don’t understan’,” she replied.
“I wouldn’t hurt Molly. I wouldn’t take her away under ordinary circumstances, but we will have to get away or they will shoot both of us. I love her, Nanny, but she doesn’t know it’” Andy confided.
“Good lawsy, sakes alive, Mista Yates! Don’t know it!” She threw up her hands and burst into laughter. “Ah ain’t no fool bout that m’self. He-eh! He-eh! He-eh! Listen t’ me.” Rolling up her big white eyes at him and shaking her fists, she grew suddenly serious. “Molly, she know all ‘bout dat, honey, sur-yo born she know. Ev’ybody know dat. An’ you say you gwine take Molly ‘way from me? Yo’ black ablis’n’st bastard.” Fire now glistened in those white rolled up eyes.
“Hold it! Be quiet! Nanny! Molly will never desert you,” he tried to assure her. “I couldn’t desert you after all you have done for me.”
“I done tol’ ya’ I tain’t gwine t’be no free niggah,” she interrupted. “Des de trash, only de trash—nothing but the trash niggah am wantin’ t’be free. Tell me ak’s what’s gonna’ become of all dem niggahs if deh do get free, heh—heh? Ah’d like to know where deh will go.”
Andy was jolted by the black servant’s attitude. He had believed up to this moment, before coming to Virginia that all the colored people were cruelly treated, beaten and the women raped by their owners and all wanted to be free. Yates began to wonder, “What will they do with all of them?” For the first time , he understood that there were two sides to the controversy. Each, perhaps, was sincere in their convictions.
Black Nanny gathered up the dishes and had no more departed from the room and the door was opened. A guard stepped into the room and saluted.
CHAPTER IX
“Yates! Colonel Hayes here to see you, sir,” the guard announced.
“Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes?” with a note of surprise, Andy asked.
Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes[2] of the Twenty-Third Army of the Ohio, and his aide-de-camp, Sergeant William McKinley,[3] stepped inside. Hayes, in a close-fitting uniform with the coat buttoned up to his chin, looked every bit a soldier. In appearance he was stern looking, brusque, and military in every aspect. McKinley seemed a mere lad standing beside him. He was rather slender and much shorter in height. He was smooth-shaven, and his uniform was neat and spotlessly clean. His coat, unbuttoned, hung loose and neat from his shoulders. Andy was struck by the kindness that seemed to radiate from his face.
The guard bowed, saluted again, and departed from the room. They saluted. Andy returned the salute and asked them to be seated.
“You are Sergeant Andy Yates?” asked Hayes.
“I am, sir,” replied Andy.
“All morning I’ve been in conference with Captain Bloome and Surgeon Brown pertaining to your court-martial.” Hayes came directly to the point. “Both thought it advisable for me to drop by and have a talk with you. Are you aware that in this sector at the present time, I am judge advocate of the Union army?”
“Yes, I am,” answered Andy.
“As judge advocate I will have the unpleasant duty of investigating and then presiding at your court-martial. How is your wound? When will you be ready for a hearing?” asked the colonel.
“A little weak, but I think I am doing very well. Dr. Brown permits me to get up once a day and walk from here to the porch and back. He talks like it will be some time before I am permitted to leave here,” replied Andy.
“I expected as much,” the colonel snapped. “That’s why I am here. There seems to be some rather serious accusations in the report received at headquarters from Captain Bloome. Needless to say, I was sent here by General Cox from his headquarters at Gauley Bridge. Young man, it’s unfortunate that you got mixed up in an affair like this. There are always serious complications in a business like this, and some matters in Captain Bloome’s report require immediate investigation. So instead of waiting for you to be able to be brought to headquarters, I have come here to hear your story. Every detail of it.”
“Colonel, I am glad to tell my story,” said Yates. “I hope LaCrosse’s story—I am sure is, in Captain Bloome’s report, has not made you prejudiced. I will tell in detail what I remember.”
“Not at all, sir. I am not prejudiced. Go on,” Hayes came back crisply.
“Will you please talk slowly, Sergeant Yates?” asked McKinley, as he fumbled in his pocket for a notebook and pencil. “Just a minute now.” When he was ready, he addressed Andy again, “You may proceed now.”
Andy told his story slowly, deliberately, and in detail to the two men. One a colonel and the other a noncommissioned officer in the Federal army but each destined, in time, to become president of the United States.
So clearly and so thoroughly Andy covered every detail that he was never interrupted during the course of his lengthy narration. There was silence for a few moments after he had finished. The judge advocate was looking him directly in the eye, studying their every move and every expression showing on Andy’s face.
The colonel broke the silence. “A good story, Sergeant, but somebody’s lying. Your story does not jibe with Lieutenant LaCrosse’s story. The two are as different as day and night. What proof do you have to back up your story, Sergeant?”
2
Rutherford Birchard Hayes gained the rank of major general before the end of the war. Returning to Ohio, he became a congressman and from there he was elected the nineteenth president (1877-1881) in a fiercely disputed election that threatened the country with civil war.
3
William McKinley attained the rank of major before war’s end. Entered politics and served two terms as governor of Ohio. He was elected twenty-fifth president (1897-1901) and was assassinated in September 1901.