The Bone Pile: The High Cost of Valor

By Sharon Traner

The Civil War has raged for twelve months. Colonel Paine leads his troops in the bayous and swampland of Louisiana and finds that the military maneuvers are often poorly conceived and ill-advised. He defies an order from his commanding officer which leads to his a

• Language: English
• Publisher: ReadersMagnet LLC
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890913760

Sharon Traner

Sharon grew up on a farm in Iowa where she learned the importance of family and a reverence for the land which are central themes in her novels. She and her husband lived in Dubuque in the 70's and fell in love with the splendor of the Upper Mississippi Valley. She wanted to write a novel which not only captures the beauty of the area but also depicts a chaotic time in American history when families struggled with heartbreaking events while questioning long established beliefs.

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Dedicated to

my faithful friends and family

who believed in me,

read the early versions of my books,

and encouraged me to keep going, especially:

Steve and Kay Radke

Heidi Lou Baker

Julie Northup

Janie, Jesse, and Denise Dellinger

Peter Klug

and

my husband, Mark

Your input, support, and honesty are greatly appreciated!

Chapter 1

Union Colonel Halbert Paine was tired, hot, and irritated. He gazed at the black man lying at his feet with disbelief as well as revulsion. The man had been viciously whipped and forced to wear an iron ring around his neck with four pointed rods protruding above his head. He was in extreme pain and could barely speak but he managed to say his name.

Solomon, suh, he whimpered, they calls me Solomon.

Where do you hail from? the colonel asked gently, trying to temper his annoyance as he certainly harbored no animosity toward this poor wretch.

Solomon was unable to speak any further so Colonel Paine turned to his two companions who were crouching over the wounded man.

Also bloodied and bruised, they appeared exhausted, barely covered in their tattered rags. But they had managed to escape their captors and had sought asylum within the Union camp.

Virginnie, the female retorted curtly.

What is he doing down here? Virginia is hundreds of miles from Louisiana.

He was took, suh, she replied, glaring at the colonel with suspicious, narrowed eyes. They snatched ‘im up when he was standin’ out front of the Rebel headquarters in Winchester while his missus was doin’ business inside.

They never owned him, the other man added. They jus’ took ‘im and aimed to sell ‘im down here.

What about you? What’s your name and where did you come from?

I’s Isaac, suh. I hail from Mississippi o’er by Meridian. My massa was old and po’ and there weren’t enough food to feed us all so he said jus’ go. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I skedaddled out of there real quick like, but I got grabbed up a couple of days later. I don’t know who she thinks she’s gonna sell us to—people ain’t got no money to buy no slaves no more. I guess she gets money to buy her corn liquor by rentin’ us out to the peoples around here, but I think that ol` hag just liked beatin us, is all.

Colonel Paine was never quick to show emotion but everyone could tell he was incensed as his face darkened. Why was this man whipped so badly? he spat with clenched teeth.

Solomon already ran away three times. He kept sayin’ he had to get back north cause his mama would be terrible afeared for ‘im. His massa promised to set ‘im free.

He needs medical attention. Take him to the hospital at once.

The hospital is already overflowin’, Colonel, Sergeant O’Rourke said. I’m not sure—

Then take him to my quarters, the colonel ordered. And for God’s sake, get that damned thing off his neck.

Them slavers are still waitin’ at the guard post, a courier reported. They say they ain’t leavin’ until they get their property back.

Colonel Paine marched across the compound toward the barricade where the woman and her companion were waiting expectantly.

A few days earlier, when the colonel and his regiment’s transport ship had docked at Baton Rouge, he had been stunned and angered when his commanding officer, General Thomas Williams, had ordered dozens of contrabands returned to their white masters who were rioting on shore. The Coloreds had been rewarded for reporting invaluable details of the Confederate fortress at Vicksburg, as well as providing labor in creating breastworks and fortifications for the Union Army, by being callously handed back to the malevolent slaveowners.

The colonel remembered this particular slaver from that day on the docks when she had attacked her slaves with such brutal savagery. She was now waiting at the guard post, demanding the return of the slaves again. Perched on the seat of her wagon in a dirty, shabby dress with a misshapen straw hat pulled down over her greasy, matted hair, she tapped her middle finger menacingly on the trigger of the shotgun that laid across her lap. Her companion appeared similarly dirty and sinister with blackened teeth showing in a toothy sneer.

The Negroes tell me they never belonged to you, the colonel snapped, and even if they do, I am not compelled to hand them over to you, so your business here is finished. Good day. He turned to leave, having dismissed the scoundrels and wanting nothing more to do with them. However, the visitors refused to be put off so easily.

You ain’t got no call to be so cantankerous, you goddamn uppity abolitionist, the woman shouted. Give me back my property!

But Colonel Paine had no tolerance for these people and had no intention of continuing the conversation as he strode away with no further words. He arrived back at his tent and was relieved to see that Solomon’s iron restraint had been removed. He was laying across the colonel’s cot, trembling and writhing in pain.

Fetch the surgeon, Sergeant, Colonel Paine commanded.

I could try, Colonel, but he’s got men and civilians lined up for a country mile on account of the camp fevers.

Then leave him here until we can arrange medical care.

Here, sir? In your tent?

Yes, Sergeant, where else would you have him go?

There ain’t no call for you to worry yo’self about Solomon, the woman muttered. We can care for ‘im ‘rselves if’n you just give us a spot—a place away from—

Nonsense, you’ll stay here. Go with the sergeant, Isaac, and fetch medicine for his pain. You’re probably hungry so find some food and bring some for the girl, too. Perhaps Solomon could do with a little broth. Go at once, both of you.

The colonel filled a basin and reached for a cloth to wash the dried blood off the black man’s back, but the woman took it out of his hand and began to sponge the deep gashes as Solomon whimpered and cried in agony. Considering her spiteful attitude, her touch was more tender than the colonel expected.

What is your name? he asked quietly.

Nettie, suh—they calls me Nettie. As she stood to change the bloody water, Colonel Paine noticed the woman’s protruding belly.

Are you with child, girl? he asked. Is Solomon your man?

No, suh, this baby don’t belong to no black man. It’s. . . Her voice faltered as her glowering scowl returned.

You were raped? the colonel pressed. Who did this to you? Was it Federal or—

Some Rebs found me hidin’ and they . . . She turned away but the colonel could guess what she was going to say.

You seem to be quite fond of him, Colonel Paine offered, gesturing toward Solomon.

I ain’t know’d him long. I guess he’s nice enough.

When Isaac arrived with a cup of morphine water, the colonel lifted Solomon’s head and induced him to drink sips of the bitter mixture. Nettie, Isaac, you stay here, too. Find another cot for me, Sergeant, and some decent clothing for these two.

The colonel’s tent was crowded but he felt this was the best option. Solomon needed care and his companions seemed amenable to providing it. While the colonel found Isaac to be animated and a lively conversationalist, he noticed that Nettie was particularly reticent in her dealings with him and his staff and appeared to be suspicious of everyone. She was young, small, and wiry and even though she had been a slave all her life, she had a presence of strong willed obstinance that signaled that she was someone not to be trifled with. The colonel sensed that she had been forced to surrender to servitude by a whip and an iron fist and even then, she had submitted with spiteful insolence. However, she was very solicitous regarding Solomon’s needs and never ventured far from his cot throughout the night.

Since Colonel Paine assumed the episode had been concluded, he was surprised when he received a dispatch from General Williams headquarters the next day. It was a cursory mandate from one of the general’s subordinates, Major Van Heaton. The colonel scowled angrily when he read it.

Tell the major I do not take orders from any officer of lower rank than my own and I will not return these slaves. He wadded up the note and threw it aside.

The courier looked confused as he stood at attention, waiting for a more formal reply. "Sir, I would be happy to convey any written response you might want to send to General Williams’ headquarters . . . sir?"

I will respond if and when proper military protocol is followed. As I’ve said, Corporal, I do not take orders from a major. You are dismissed.

Later that evening, the courier appeared again. Colonel Paine was eating supper with his officers when the corporal approached his table.

What is it now? he cried, frowning. This whole situation was becoming tiresome.

Sir, a message from General Williams, sir.

Clearly irritated, Colonel Paine put on his glasses and read the note. Everyone could see he was not pleased as his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. He stood and announced, General Williams appears to have taken issue with these three particular contrabands. He feels the Coloreds drain our resources and have a tendency to undermine the morale of our troops. He was grimacing with flushed cheeks and pursed lips. "I will respond to this in writing forthwith."

He returned to his tent to write a reply, using a lawyer’s legal jargon with exaggerated respect and restraint. Colonel Paine referred to the addendum to the original Confiscation Act of 1861, which stated explicitly that Union forces should not return slaves to their alleged masters in any of the previously held Confederate territories. Therefore, he explained, he could not return these slaves for fear that he would forfeit his commission and face prosecution under the letter of the law.

It was several days before Solomon had sufficiently recovered to be able to sit up and feed himself. I reckon we best be findin’ a place for ‘rselves, Nettie announced. No sense us botherin’ you no mo’, Colonel.

Where will you go? the colonel asked.

I reckon me and Isaac can find us a place and come back for ‘im, Nettie mumbled. We’ll go over yonder by them other Niggers, she added, stressing the last word.

Colonel Paine had always considered that term to be vile and degrading and had never uttered it himself but she left before he had a chance to respond. He sat at his desk, glancing over some documents while Solomon sat on his cot, looking tense and unsure.

I thanks you, suh, Solomon murmured. You’ve been right kind.

The colonel turned in his chair to study the black man, who was staring at the floor and had spoken in a subdued, apologetic tone, typical of other slaves the colonel had encountered in the South.

You’re probably wondering what’s to happen to you, but I can assure you that you will not be returning to those . . . those people. We have the law on our side, Solomon. The United States Congress has directed that Union military personnel shall not return contrabands to the Rebels.

Contrabands, suh? It was obviously a new word to the Negro.

Yes, it’s a term used for any confiscated property from the enemy. Since it’s the damned Rebs who insist on calling their slaves property, the rule applies to you as well. When you recover sufficiently to be able to perform labor in this camp, you are entitled to get paid for your work, twenty-five cents a day plus food but you need to heal some first. That’s quite a beating you took, young man.

Yessir, I lost count of how many lashes—I musta passed out.

I want you to rest for a few days and then come back here so I can find easier tasks for your pay. Isaac has already found a job with the cook.

I thanks ya, suh, but what about Nettie? You ain’t gonna turn her out, is you?

Of course not, Solomon, the colonel scoffed. I would never do such a thing. She appears to be very good at tending sick folks so I shall send a note to the surgeon and instruct him to put her to work in the hospital. He will, no doubt, notice—er, her condition and won’t allow her to overwork.

Nettie led Solomon away a few minutes later as she had secured a place for them to sleep in the contraband camp.

Come back tomorrow, Colonel Paine called, and let me know how you are getting on.

The next day, the colonel received another short, one-line note from Major Van Heaton, saying, You shall admit Mrs. Curry and her companion into your garrison to retrieve her property.

Colonel Paine’s response was the first time anyone had seen him display a furious, enraged tantrum, pacing and muttering obscenities. As I have said before, Corporal, he shouted, I do not obey orders from majors and I will not even dignify this request with a response.

Later that day, he received a note in General Williams’ handwriting, stating that the general did not find Colonel Paine’s explanation acceptable and ordered that he comply with his earlier mandate. Once again, the colonel responded with a courteous but insistent note, detailing the official Congressional mandates.

Why is he being so stubborn about this? he exploded to the assembly of his officers.

You could call on General Butler and inform him of this foolishness, Lt. Colonel Bean suggested. He made headlines last year when he refused to return those slaves back east.

He seems to be occupied with more important matters, Colonel Paine growled. He’s known for some time that General Williams and I do not see eye to eye on much of anything and I sense that our tattle-telling irritates him. He seems to believe that the petition asking our regiment to be reassigned to a different brigade commander was my doing and he was rather put off by it all. I’m sure he’s hoping that this latest matter gets resolved between us.

There was no further word for a few days and the colonel thought the issue was resolved so when a notice was delivered from General Williams, stating that he was under arrest for failure to obey a direct order from his commanding officer, Colonel Paine was stunned.

He summoned his officers and explained the latest developments. I am handing my command over to you, Lt. Colonel Bean, he announced with tense restraint. Since there is nothing more for me to do, I shall retire to my quarters.

Palpable anger and confusion spread throughout the camp quickly. Many of the men had been with the colonel since they were mustered in at Camp Utley in the spring of 1861. These men resented General William’s treatment of him as well as his overall lack of respect regarding the regiment’s worthiness and dedication to the Union cause.

That night, after Colonel Paine had written a letter to his wife explaining the events of the day, he was surprised to see Solomon present himself at his tent door. He was still barefooted but was wearing a clean shirt and trousers with fewer holes.

Suh, he said, I was wonderin’ if there was anything I could do for ya—I could turn down your bed or fetch ya some coffee.

Yes, Solomon, I guess I would be grateful for another cup before I retire for the night.

Solomon soon returned with a cup of steaming hot brew and set it on the colonel’s desk with a slight bow.

How are you feeling, Solomon?

I’s considerable better, suh. How’s about I get you a basin of warm water so’s you can wash up, suh?

Are you saying that I’m dirty? the colonel asked, grinning.

Solomon stepped back in alarm but saw that the colonel was smiling. No, suh, he explained respectfully, I just knows that white folks like to wash their face and hands before they go to bed.

Did you attend to your master before—before all this trouble?

Yes suh, I helped Massa James back in Virginnie. He lost a leg early on in the war and needed considerable help.

Colonel Paine noticed that the man still grimaced when he leaned down to turn down the bed. I was thinking light-duty here with me would be a good idea for the next few days, Solomon. I’ll leave word with Sergeant O’Rourke that you are to be assigned as my orderly. And yes, I would like to wash up before I retire for the night.

He turned back to his writing, adding a postscript to his wife’s letter, explaining that he now has a personal attendant and will try to think of things to keep him busy.

A few minutes later when Solomon returned with a basin of hot water, the colonel was in no hurry to dismiss him. Isaac told me that you are trying to get back to Virginia because your master promised to set you free. What’s that all about?

Yes suh, I went with the missus up to Winchester to fetch his brother. Massa Henry was real sick and the missus took me along to he’p her bring him home. Massa James knew it was likely gonna be dangerous and sho’ enough, he was right. Them slavers grabbed me so quick, I didn’t have no chance to get away.

Well, Solomon, you don’t have to go home to be free now.

That’s what you blue boys are tellin’ me, but I’s don’t feel free, suh—not down here, surrounded by them slavers and soldiers like the ones who hurt Nettie. I guess there ain’t no place for us to feel safe.

I don’t blame you for feeling afraid, Solomon, but I swear I will not let anyone hurt you again—you or Nettie.

Thanks you kindly for sayin’ that, Colonel, but . . .

I know, Solomon, it must be worrisome, but as I said, you have nothing to fear, I promise.

Is it true you’re in a heap of trouble on account of us?

Yes, it appears so, but I doubt anything will come of it. The general and I have not agreed on much since I was sent down here with my regiment a few months ago. But I expect we’ll get things ironed out shortly.

Later that night, when Colonel Paine turned down his lantern, he was surprised to hear activity outside his tent and stepped outside to investigate. He found Solomon piling brush at the side of the colonel’s tent under a canvas lean-to and covering the mound with a blanket. Nettie was standing nearby.

Solomon glanced up to see the colonel watching him. I thought we’d stay close, suh, in case you needed anything during the night—if’n that’s alright.

Colonel Paine smiled, aware that these two refugees were still fearful of capture. Yes, of course, Solomon, if you’re sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable somewhere else.

The ground here is as good as any, suh, Nettie retorted curtly.

Yes, I suppose that’s true. I’ll see you in the morning.

Solomon spread the blanket over the pile of fallen leaves and pine needles and gestured for Nettie to lie down. She returned his smile with her usual scowl.

I have some ointment the doctor gave me for your back. The words were caring but her voice was cold and unemotional. Take off yo’ shirt.

He complied and flinched as she dabbed the salve on the wounds. The slashes were open and raw and bright blood still seeped through his shirt.

It’s lookin’ a little better, she mumbled as she reached for the other blanket and settled into the makeshift bed with no further words.

Solomon had known this woman for nearly a month but he had never once touched her. Even when she was shivering from the cold or trembling with fear, she wouldn’t allow him to hold her or offer comfort in any way. They lay next to each other with always a safe distance between them. He knew she often had trouble sleeping and noticed she was staring up at the canvas roof, swaying in the stiff breeze with her eyes wide open. He didn’t say anything because he was also aware that she was seldom communicative and would start an occasional conversation only when she was in the right mood. Apparently, on this night, she was.

Why are you being so nice to that white man? she spat, whispering.

Why shouldn’t I be?

You don’t owe him nothin’.

I don’t? He coulda give me back to that slaver woman and he didn’t.

You think he cares about you? He don’t give a lick about no slave.

He done got hisself arrested on account of me—and you and Isaac. That’s gots to mean somethin’.

He said hisself he doin’ this on account of some law and he don’t want to git in no worser trouble.

Nettie, he promised he’ll never let them slavers take us and I believes ‘im. He seems like a good man ta me.

That’s ‘cause you’s been a spoiled, pampered Nigger all your life. You have no idea what real white folks is like.

Is that why you’re so mad at me all the time? Cause I wasn’t whipped ‘n treated bad while I was growin’ up? I had a decent life but I hated being a slave. I always wanted to be free—just like you did. He felt foolish, defending his white owners and trying to explain his feelings to this woman whose spitefulness seemed to eclipse all understanding.

But my mama, he continued, she loves the missus and all her chil’un. She’s been livin’ there with the Hanger family for most her life. We always had us a nice place to live with plenty of food and the work was never that bad. I don’t believe Massa Hanger ever owned a whip ‘cept maybe to use on the horses—Mr. Mallery, the overseer, either.

Nettie turned to her side, away from Solomon. He could see her shoulders heaving with anguished frustration. So, what ya’ gonna do now? she asked tersely. You’re a long way from Virginnie.

I’m gonna stay here with the colonel as long as he needs me. The way I sees it, he saved my life so the least I can do is tote some water and fetch his supper. And . . . He sighed deeply. I’m gonna take care of you, too, woman, whether you likes it or not. He turned away and felt the slightest brush of her back against his. Don’t you have no place to go home to? Where’s your mama?

She died when I was just a chil’. I can hardly remember what she looked like. The master killed her by workin’ her in the fields all day and rapin’ her all night. And when I got big enough, he did the same to me. She said the words evenly but there was an unmistakable edge of raw hatred. Anyways, I’ve been takin’ care of myself for as long as I can remember so you don’t need to do nothin’ for me now.

But what about the chil’, Nettie? Who’s gonna take care of you when your time is comin’ on?

Don’t you worry yo’self with any of that. I don’t care nothin’ about this baby so why should you? Maybe it’ll save me a heap of trouble and jus’ die.

Solomon flipped over quickly. Nettie, you don’t mean that, do you?

‘Course I do. This baby ain’t nothin’ to me and I don’t care if’n it lives or dies.

He reached out to touch her shoulder but withdrew it quickly when she flinched and pulled away. I don’t care what you say, he hissed, I promised I’d take care of you and that’s what I aim to do. You hear me?

She made no attempt to answer him as she closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. This uppity, coddled Nigger doesn’t understand anything, she thought, and I don’t have the notion or energy to say it again. He didn’t matter anyway. Other men had made promises to her but soon disappeared, either by their wandering desires or by powers beyond their control. She had no illusions that this one was any different.

* * * * * * * *

Ellie Mae, the slave woman who had ruled the Hanger family kitchen with an iron fist for the last three decades, detested the sight of mice droppings in her pantry. She had gone to bed in the nearby cabin but remembered she had forgotten to set the traps.

I’m gonna git ya’ if’n it’s the last thing I do, she muttered, addressing the unseen rodent as she set about the task of placing a piece of cheese on each trap. What ya’ doin’ in my kitchen this late anyways? Ever’ self-respectin’ mouse I ever knowed got hisself back to the fields by now. She puttered around, setting traps in the usual spots. After all, she had been waging this war for many years now.

She was startled when she heard movement at the back door. Always aware of the possibility of scavengers and robbers, she crouched in the pantry as she quickly blew out the candle.

Mama, a voice called, I knows you’s back there. What ya’ doin’, workin this time a night? It was Toby, her oldest son. He slouched down onto a chair, looking haggard and distressed.

This here is my kitchen, so I guess I can—never mind me, what are you doin’ here? Why aren’t ya out at Mt. Hope? Toby was a field slave and seldom came into Churchville to visit his mama at the Hanger’s town house.

I went to see Hannah, he replied. I got word that she and the baby are sick, so I went over there to see for m’self what was ailin’ ‘em. They both have the fever, Mama—scarlet fever, I think. Toby had bedded a slave woman from a nearby plantation and they had a baby boy who was less than three months old.

Oh, lordy, son, what did Mister Mallery say when you told ‘im? Thomas Mallery was the overseer at Mt. Hope who policed the comings and goings of his dozen slaves.

I didn’t tell ‘im. He don’t care anyways. As long as I git in the fields by sunup, he don’t pay no mind about nothin’ else.

Then you’d better git on out there and get some rest. You hungry?

No, mama, I can’t eat. He sighed deeply, worry lines embedded across his brow. They’re powerful sick. That baby just lies there like he’s already ‘most dead. Terrible diarrhea with the sandpaper rash and he won’t nurse. Do you reckon Doc McCreery would go see ‘em?

He’s mostly a white folks doctor, but I’ll go ask him in the morning. He had medicine that cured Massa Henry. Does Massa O’Shea know he’s got scarlet fever in his Nigger cabins? It’s sure to spread like wil’fire.

I don’t know, Mama, Toby scoffed. He’s just like ever’ other white man around here—all he cares about is finishin’ the wheat and plantin’ the corn. Toby looked weary, his eyes heavy and his shoulders stooped. They’re so sick, Mama. I don’t know if’n my baby boy will make it.

You go on out to the stable and get that ol’ mule to ride out to Mt. Hope. You tell Cornelius that I says it’s alright. You’ll never be able to work tomorrow if you have to walk all the way out there. She reached out to lovingly stroke her son’s arm. Try not to worry, Toby. I’ll ask the missus if I can go look in on Hannah and the baby tomorrow after I talk to the doctor. She hugged him as she sent him out into the night.

Huh, she muttered aloud, don’t know why they’re so all fired up, worryin’ about the wheat. Ain’t gonna amount to much anyways. All that mud an’ cold an’ wind. Ain’t no corn gonna grow in that slop, t’either. Things sho’ is in a bad way, they sho’ is, if’n you ask me.

She tottered off toward her cabin but knew she wouldn’t sleep much. It was moonless night with a dark charcoal canopy of clouds hanging over the land like an ominous shroud of despair. It was a sad business, these fevers and sicknesses, made worse by the persistent rain and cool weather.

That po’ little baby is sick and Lawd knows how many others. I gots to do my bes’ prayin’, that’s for sho’. She shuddered as she crept into her bed. Jus’ keep a prayin’, she told herself. That’s all a body can do, jus’ keep a prayin’.

Chapter 2

The next morning, Colonel Paine awakened to find a fire burning outside his tent with a pot of water hanging from the tripod. He had barely stood up out of bed when he found a cup of coffee on his desk and a basin of hot water waiting on the stand. There was a fresh towel and his uniform appeared to have been brushed and cleaned. Solomon lingered in the shadow of the tent between tasks as though he was trying not to draw attention to himself.

Thank you, Solomon, the colonel called. I would be grateful if you would fetch my breakfast at the officer’s mess. I’m not choosey—bring whatever they have and get some for yourself, too.

Solomon soon delivered a heaping plate of eggs, grits, and bacon and sat on a stool by the fire to eat his. The colonel noted the former slave was eating hungrily, having apparently regained a good appetite.

Where’s Nettie? Colonel Paine asked.

She went off to the hospital at sun up. She says she likes the work there, suh. The doctor is real nice to her and she keeps real close to ‘im. In other words, the colonel thought, she was still fearful of being caught in some secluded corner where soldiers could take advantage of her again. Colonel Paine was aware that his Union boys could be as savage as their Confederate counterparts.

I’s real sorry about you gettin’ in trouble, suh, Solomon murmured as he gathered up the colonel’s dishes and poured him another cup of coffee. Maybe it’d be better if you—

No, Solomon, I assure you I could not do that. And besides, I have the law on my side. This little difficulty will be brought to an acceptable conclusion soon. I am not concerned, so I don’t want you to worry either, alright?

Yes suh, if’n you say so.

The regiment was occupied with daily drilling and making improvements to the Baton Rouge camp with ample time for rest and recuperation after several weeks of grueling activity. Although they had experienced minimal contact with the enemy, they were exhausted from constantly moving from place to place with crowded, unhealthy living conditions. Colonel Paine was appalled by the rampant spread of disease. Camp fevers had the doctors scrambling for remedies to stop the explosion of new cases. As much as a third of the camp was unfit for duty, including a long list of officers.

They were camped on high ground and supplied with a decent amount of fresh rations but the rain continued to be a constant irritant. Uniforms, tents, and provisions were never fully dry. Most of the conditions were out of his control but the colonel made sure that latrines were dug according to Army regulations, a safe distance from the encampment and would not drain into the stream from which drinking water was taken. He had given orders for the men to be marched down to the Mississippi River for regular bathing.

However, Nettie reported nightly that the news was bleak. Several more graves were being dug every day, the Coloreds dying as fast as the Yankees. Sadly, the Negro cemetery contained several small graves as babies and children were dying at an alarming rate. Colonel Paine abhorred the wretched conditions in the over-flowing contraband camp but had few supplies at his disposal to improve the over-crowded and disease-ridden squalor. The colonel made daily rounds among his troops and hospital tents.

He felt restless and anxious for this foolishness of his arrest to be resolved. He was shocked when he received a telegram from Mr. Timothy Howe, an esteemed jurist and senator from Green Bay, Wisconsin. Colonel Paine had maintained correspondence with him since the senator had been present for the mustering in of the 4th Wisconsin a year ago at Camp Utley. The gentleman was an ardent abolitionist, so it not surprising he had risen in support of the colonel’s cause. The senator’s telegram said:

Spoke with your wife. Will address Senate tomorrow to call attention to your arrest in the name of our noble cause.

Sen. T. Howe

The colonel felt somewhat unsettled by this news, wondering how the senator had heard of his situation so quickly. Months earlier, Colonel Paine had vowed to keep his name out of the newspapers, having noted how often high-ranking military personnel were publicly lambasted, everyone second-guessing their every move. He had no desire to attract notoriety. Afterall, he hadn’t taken this stand because of his anti-slavery views but because of his dedication to the law. The fact that Solomon, Isaac, and Nettie had come to his camp bloodied and beaten was unfortunate and the colonel viewed this action unleashed by the unscrupulous slave runners to be abhorrent, but that was secondary to his belief that he nor General Williams or anyone else had the right to countermand a duly enacted law of Congress. Upon that fact, he planned to mount his defense when his court-martial was convened. In the meantime, he decided to bring charges against General Williams himself. He spent long hours laboring over a long manuscript of his own defense as well as an outline of the general’s offenses.

A few days later, the same day he received a letter from his wife containing a newspaper article exhorting Senator Howe’s speech about the colonel’s plight before Congress, Colonel Paine was visited by Major Phillip Greely, one of General Williams’ more affable underlings.

The major seemed unconcerned as he leisurely reclined in a camp chair in the colonel’s tent and gladly accepted a cup of coffee into which he poured generous amounts of whiskey from a flask retrieved from an inside pocket of his uniform.

He offered some to the colonel and lit his cigar. I’m supposed to check on you, just to make sure you’re staying put. I see that you are and shall report so to the general. He must have noted the Colonel Paine’s resentful sneer because he added, Don’t shoot the messenger, Colonel. Some of us do as we’re told, no questions asked. He nodded toward Solomon who was attending to the colonel and his guest. Is this one of the bucks you hung on to? he asked.

The colonel ignored the question, thinking it might appear as though he had taken his action purely for selfish reasons. You can tell the general that I am preparing countercharges against him and will send them to General Butler’s office soon.

Yes, he expected as much, you bein’ a lawyer and all, Major Greeley replied. You’re not gonna let this go, are you.

No, I am not.

Well, that’s too bad, because we need every abled bodied man we can get. We’ve been ordered to take Natchez. Who’s your second in command, Colonel?

Lt. Colonel Sidney Bean.

That little pipsqueak?

I have found that little pipsqueak to be a fine officer of the highest caliber. He is admired and respected by the troops and you will not find anyone better.

Yes, Colonel, I expect so, the major retorted but appeared somewhat amused. I didn’t mean to give offense. You sure are on your high horse these days.

There are abundant reasons, I believe, to be somewhat vexed. If we are to march on Natchez and Vicksburg, then I am greatly distressed that I will not be able to lead my troops. My only solace in this monumental fiasco is that the regiment will be in good hands with Lt. Colonel Bean.

Yes, well, you have only yourself to blame for your misfortune. The major inhaled deeply on his cigar as he gazed intently at the colonel. Damn your principles, Paine, he exclaimed. We need you at the front lines. Won’t you reconsider?

No, I will not. I have watched men die and be maimed in the name of those principles and I have no intention of bowing to improper pressure now.

Well then, I will report your sentiments to the general. He will, I expect, not change his mind either. He stood up and led the way out of the tent.

Both the major and Colonel Paine were stunned to step outside to find a considerable crowd of soldiers assembled. The colonel reckoned there must be five or six hundred men.

An officer shouted, Ten-hut! and every man pulled himself erect and stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder, faces sober and fixed.

Three cheers for Colonel Paine, a voice from the crowd cried. Hip! Hip!

Hurrah! the men shouted.

Hip! Hip! the voice called again.

Hurrah! was the loud response.

I see it would be quite impossible for you to change your mind now, Colonel, Major Greeley said after the third cheer. They don’t want you to.

Yes, Major, I suppose you’re right, Colonel Paine agreed.

The major departed then, he and his escort wading through the soldiers who opened up an alleyway like the parting of the Red Sea. As the major reached for the reins to mount his horse, he turned to salute. He took his leave to give a full report to his commanding officer, who no doubt, would be unhappy with the news.

As the soldiers began to disperse, Colonel Paine noticed a group of men standing together at the side of the clearing and recognized them to be men he had known in Milwaukee before the war. Sergeant Wilkerson, his former law clerk was there, along with Jerzy Putchinski, the Jacobson and Lonergan boys, and others. Sergeant Major O’Rourke, his friend and confidant was front and center, shoulders straight, leading the salute. They did not approach their commander but stood at attention with pride and fierce loyalty shining in their eyes. The colonel was greatly moved by the display of respect but wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it. He showed his gratitude with a crisp return salute and a slight bow as he strode back inside his tent.

Solomon soon appeared, carrying a basin of steaming hot water and another cup of coffee. There was concern on his face as though he was afraid the colonel might change his mind at any moment.

Thank you, Solomon. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.

But, Colonel—

No, Solomon, there’s nothing more for you to do tonight. You go to the hospital and walk Nettie back here. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.

* * * * * * * *

The Hanger plantation overseer, Mr. Thomas Mallory, strode into his employer’s home with angry, purposeful strides. Eliza Hanger and her children, James and Alice, were sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast. Ellie Mae was hovering nearby, having just served sliced ham, eggs, and grits. They were startled by the overseer’s unusually hostile mood.

My goodness, Mr. Mallory, Eliza Hanger exclaimed, what’s wrong?

Ellie Mae, do you know anything about Toby’s disappearance last night? he growled.

The black woman did not answer immediately, as though she was choosing her words carefully. Well, suh, I know that Hannah and the baby are terrible sick and he’s been going over there to tend ‘em when he can.

Didn’t Dr. McCreery go see them a few days ago? Eliza asked.

Yes’um, he went and saw ‘em once but they ain’t doin’ too good. Toby is powerful worried about ‘em.

Why wasn’t I told about this? Mr. Mallory cried. What kind of sickness do they have?

Scarlet fever, suh, Ellie Mae murmured. Toby says his baby ain’t likely ta live.

Mallory’s expression softened somewhat at those last words, but the deep scowl soon returned. If I had been told, I would have insisted he stay away from them. I don’t need my Niggers sick right now and Toby might have already brought the bad vapors with him back to our place. Why didn’t anyone tell me? he shouted again, looking accusingly at those assembled at the table.

Surely you wouldn’t have kept him away from his sick wife and baby, Alice cried, disapproval darkening her face. You’d never do that, would you, Mr. Mallory?

I wouldn’t have liked it but it can’t be helped, the overseer snapped. The winter wheat ain’t even harvested yet and we’re nearly past time to plant the corn and alfalfa. We need those crops—the whole damn country needs them and there’s barely enough help as it is. I need Toby! Where the hell do you think he is?

If’n he’s not back t’ Mt. Hope then somethin’ bad must have happened, Ellie Mae replied, a stricken, forlorn sadness in her eyes. Lordy, lordy, she muttered, sho’ enough, somethin’ terrible musta happened.

I’ll ride over to the O’Shea place, James announced as pushed back from the table, and see what’s going on over there.

His mother reached for her shawl and a basket in which she began to pile ointments and