The Horse Keeper Read online

  Where on earth was General Jackson leading them in this forced march, in the pitch dark, through dense and uneven woodlands. Only when the battles lines were finally drawn, would Wayne and all of the boys see the two Generals surprising plans, with great clarity.

  They had swung around on the extreme right flank of the Federal army, the whole twenty six thousand of them. Far away and below Wayne could hear the initial cannon and musket fire as Lee and Hooker probed around, feeling each other out, before the full storm of battle erupted. He had been crouching down in some undergrowth, trying to gauge the position and strength of the Federal flank below, situated in the dense forest. Suddenly orders had begun to fly around to fall into battle formations and sweep down onto the Federals in block. Wayne had fallen in with the rest of the exhausted and bewildered boys and away they went. The crunch and muffled thudding through brush and bracken of twenty six thousand veteran soldiers descending on an unaware and exposed left flank of around eight thousand had been the spectral sound, which had been sounding and sifting through Wayne’s subconscious mind as an opening to the nightmare in the first place. And the nightmares it panned out into mixed and jumbled pieces had been a nightmare of real events, experienced by real people.

  By the time the Federals realised they were being jumped on their right flank, it was too late. Because the thunder of massed musketry and the rebel yell was the first thing they heard, before they could even see anything through the dense and dark trees. The element of surprise had worked better than General Jackson could have anticipated, and shocked Federal officers were desperately trying to turn their companies around to form some semblance of a battle formation, to repulse the descending rebels. The ground before them was so steep that Wayne’s boys had to lean backwards as they all advanced.

  Wayne could see that the boys who were moving down with him on either side were also having difficulty not falling forward, as they swept down through the trees and undergrowth.

  Wayne was on the extreme left flank of a semi circle formation that was about to envelope and crush the Federal right flank. Below them the Federals were trying to turn to face the descending rebels and Wayne could see them moving about through the trees. The first portions to come into close combat were the centre and right flanks of the formation firing down onto the startled Federals, who were still trying to comprehend the full gravity of twenty six thousand armed men moving down onto their positions. Wayne’s division was coming down and around the rear of the Federal lines, firing downwards. The rest of the formation had panned out onto more level ground and was lying on a thunderous fire straight into the Federals teetering and disorganised lines. The Federals directly below Wayne were at an even worse disadvantage than the rest, because they were stuck in a depression in the woods and Wayne’s division was firing down onto the tops and sides of their heads. And even when they faced upwards to fire, they were being hit in the face and chest by a rain of murderous mass fire.

  Wayne and the rest of the boys were now having to jump over the dead and wounded as they came sweeping down and around the depression. The remainder of the Federal lines was breaking up and being pushed up the other side of the depression, only to step right back into another rebel line of battle. The pincer movement was being pressed home with staggering effect and the Federal lines were being squeezed in like a gigantic physical concertina, as General Lee held the front fast, while Stonewall Jackson pressed and squeezed it. But the only song coming from this instrument of death, were the cries of the wounded and panic-stricken men in its deadly grasp.

  Wayne was casting his head around and trying to get his bearings, only to see his comrades being felled by musket fire as the Federals came charging back down into the depression with massed Confederates pursuing them from behind. The Federals were massacred were they stood, with no line of escape and heavy fire coming in on them from every angle. This portion of the battle was over now and the remainder of the Union soldiers were throwing down their muskets and surrendering. But there were still a lot of them wandering aimlessly around.

  They were dead on their feet; every one of them had been killed instantly by a musket ball or two in the head. Wayne had seen this horrible phenomenon before from other engagements, but nothing on this scale. There were literally dozens of them, passing by and walking into each other. It was as if they were dead, but did not know they were dead and were wandering around, waiting for somebody to break the news to them, so they could drop down dead. Because their spirits had been barbarically removed from their bodies. Wayne watched in morbid fascination as some of his comrades roped off areas of the woods to stop these mechanical spectres crashing into the living. Suddenly the face of one of them was leering straight into his own, he had been a boy of perhaps sixteen. Wayne felt as though somebody had thrust a life-like mannequin from a shop window violently into his arms. And through the boys bare teeth and taut lips, that were curled back in the grimace of sudden death he could hear a shrill, heart wrenching voice imploring him,

  ‘Why did you kill me? Why did you kill me? Why, why, why?’

  He was woken up by the sound of his own screaming, which wrenched him from his sleep. He sat bolt upright in his bunk and realised with great relief that he had been dreaming again. His eyes slowly focused on a puzzled and somewhat alarmed Luke, who was holding a cup of coffee out to him. He took the coffee, put it down onto the table and hugged Luke with all his might. But the face of the dead Union boy was still flashing through his mind. After all, he was probably just like Luke.

  As they walked over to the stables Wayne suddenly remembered that he wanted to ask Luke something. Luke could sense it and tried to change the anticipated subject.

  “Wayne, do yah really think we’re losin’ the war?”

  “We’re losin’ okay, I really don’t know how we’ve held out for this long.”

  “That’s too bad. Whatyuh gonna do when it’s all over?”

  Wayne knew that Luke was trying to avoid the pending subject and said casually,

  “Where were yah yesterday mornin’ Luke? I was lookin’ for yah.”

  “I had things to tend to Wayne, which I couldn’t leave.”

  “You’ve always told me in the past Luke, when yah needed to do somethin’, now tell me the truth. Could it be somethin’ to do with the militia passin’ through the other mornin’? You know better than to try and bluff me Luke. Now tell me the truth.”

  Luke drew in a deep breath, released it heavily and turned to Wayne to speak.

  “Well, I know you’ve been good to me Wayne, but if I tell yah, I’ll be at yah mercy.”

  “Go on Luke, I’m listenin’.”

  “I’ve always avoided talkin’ ‘bout my past Wayne, but you know I trust you.”

  “Go on Luke, I’m listenin’.”

  “I’m wanted for murder.”

  “What?”

  “Yes Wayne, I’m wanted for mass murder.”

  “Carry on Luke, I’m listenin’.”

  “Try to understand Wayne. My family were poor farmers. We had our farm, which mah and pah sacrificed everything to build, in the middle of the Shenandoah Valley, between Cedar creek and Strasburg. We were Quakers and all we ever wanted was peace. Peace for us and everybody else. Our real problems began when my older brother Martin joined the Union army. My pah was a secret union sympathiser and resented the rebel armies robbin’ us of our wheat, our sheep, our cows, everythin’, as they passed up and down the valley. We could barely feed ourselves in the end, let alone barter anythin’. Well it got far worse when the Union armies under Sheridan moved up the valley, burnin’ and destroyin’ everythin’ they could. I hated them and when my brother got killed at Gettysburg my pah never forgave himself. There was a terrible battle at Cedar creek between General Sheridan and General Early. My pah was a broken man when some of Wade Hampton’s cavalry came to rob us of the bare supplies we had to last us through the winter, that the union soldiers had left us.

  Well, as seven or eight of them went into our barn to take all we had, I set fire to it, by piling straw in the door and throwin’ burnin’ torches inside…I killed all of them. But I didn’t know that mah pah had hidden six Union boys inside the barn that had been cut off from their regiments during the battle. A Federal Colonel who had tried to find a way back to the union lines had come back to collect them, and I only found out they were in there when he told me. He drew his sword to kill me, so I blew his head off with a shotgun and threw his body in the flames. I had to escape real fast, coz both Federal and rebel soldiers were after me. I nearly got caught by a Federal patrol, but I managed to creep around their camp and put a match to a couple of ammunition wagons to create a diversion and make them think they were being bushwhacked from behind. I blew the camp sky high, killin’ a lot more. Win or lose, I ain’t got nowhere to go and nothin’ to lose Wayne. This war and the whole damn madness of it, means nothin’ to me.”

  “Wow, so you’re tellin’ me yah torched a barn, killin’ six Yankees and eight rebs. Then torched some ammunition wagons, blowing a Federal camp sky high. Why, you sure like matches Luke and you sure picked a fine time to tell me about your talent.”

  “Well, you did ask my Wayne,” answered Luke sheepishly.

  CHAPTER 13

  This afternoon they had walked a lot further than they usually did, passing the narrow bottleneck of the river, which ran for over two miles. Now they were sitting on the grassy banks, where the river gaped into a wide turbulent body of water. She had her head on his shoulder and appeared to be dozing, with a smile on her face. Wayne was looking out over the vast expanse of dark blue water, to the distant light blue mountains, that appeared to be suspended in mid air on top of a halo of white cloud.

  “What are yah thinking Wayne?” r />
  He looked down, kissed her on the top of her head and said,

  “Open yah eyes.”

  As she opened them, Wayne noticed her eyelashes were long and curled upwards.

  “What do yah see?”

  “I see a river, a blue sky, some high mountains and a lot of trees. What do you see?”

  “I see all of those things, but a lot more. I see and feel a, well I mean, I think.”

  Now she was smiling and nestled her head into his chest.” “What do yah see and feel Wayne? Tell me.”

  “Well, it’s hard to explain, but ever since I was young I had this, what’s the word I’m lookin’ for, this kinda, kinda hunger, no desire, no kinda instinct. That’s the word I’m lookin’ for. This kinda instinct to always go and see what’s over that next mountain, what’s on the other side of that forest, or over those hills. And I just realised I still got those feelings when I look out over the river, among other feelings, among others.”

  She pressed and nuzzled her head deeper into his chest, smiled broadly, as if she could sense exactly what these other kinda instincts or feelings were and said,

  “What are those other feelings, or kinda instincts Wayne?”

  Now it was his turn to smile, but he soon slipped into a mode of deeper reflection.

  “I’ve been wonderin’ well what I mean is, for some reason, I don’t know why, but I damn well wish I’d thought about it while he was still alive. Maybe Wyatt had those same feelings, or desires, only he found them by reading books. I think that maybe his, his hidden, I mean, his kinda blind longings, lived in his books.”

  “My father used to use the words horizons, horizons to describe those feelings that you’re getting at Wayne. And I think you’re probably right. That’s why he and Joshua would sit me on their laps, even when I was a gal of two and read to me. And when I was ‘bout five I was put into school with all the white children. So I could learn, think for myself and appreciate that feeling, that longing, yes, that longing to look for those hidden horizons, and just like you I’ve ever never lost that desire.”

  “Wow, horizons, never thoughta that word, that really sums the whole meanin’ up. I forgot to as yah where’s your pah now? Would sure like to meet him.”

  He realised that he had asked her something, which was so painful that it was hard for her to talk about, when she started to tremble and tears came to her eyes.

  “He’s dead, dead…He was killed trying to storm Fort Wagner. And Joshua was killed at the Antietam creek battle, under General Burnside. So I’ve lost the only two people that I’ve ever loved in my life, so far. I don’t like to let folks get too close now coz every time I do, somethin’ happens to them.”

  Wayne did not know what to say and when he did, he was confounded by a mixed feeling of sympathy, perplexity and cold fear.

  “I’m so sorry, does anybody else know that your pah was fightin’ for the Yankees.”

  “No, only you, only you. I would not dare tell anybody else.”

  “Well please yah don’t tell anybody, not even Luke. That lil fella’s bin givin’ me a few shocks of his own. I’m gonna have to think what I’m gonna do with him.”

  Wayne was still taking in the panoramic view and contemplating what Belinda had just told him. Now he had two to watch out for, Belinda and Luke. Then he spoke,

  “What is real mystery to me, well I mean… Folks like you that study the bible, well how can yah keep on believin’? When so many bad things happen to yah and folks that yah love. I just can’t understand how yah can keep on believin’.”

  “I’ve never stopped believin’… Oh I’ve always had doubts, but those were all swept aside when just after my nineteenth birthday my father told me a story about himself and Joshua I will never, ever forget. We were owned by one of the biggest plantation owners in South Carolina named Bertrand Tanner. And unfortunately for us, his slaves and most other folks that had dealin’s with him, he was the most brutal and merciless plantation owner in the area. But what I never knew, but always wondered was, why Mister Tanner always left my father alone. Everything fell into place like a big sublime picture as he told me the truth. And he always believed that it was an act of God… And I’ve always found no other answer, no matter how hard I reflect on it, even now.”

  Wayne had become intrigued and his attention galvanised as he said,

  “This Mister Tanner sounds to be like the big plantation owner in our state called Ben Boucher, didn’t think there could be a man more brutal than ole Ben Boucher.”

  “Oh, I can’t speak for Ben Boucher Wayne, but Bertrand Tanner was a man that my father had no reservations ‘bout usin’ one word he couldn’t use on anybody else. And that word was evil, pure, unadulterated evil incarnate, he would call it.”

  “He sure musta been a real mean dude for yah pah to find fancy words like that to describe him. Thought ole Ben Boucher could have no rival, the way he was.”

  “Yah ask me how I keep on believin’, well I’m gonna tell yah. When yah stop believin’ in anythin’ at all, then life don’t mean nothin’. When yah tell me yah still look out over to the mountains, hills and forests and still have an insatiable desire to know what’s on the other side, then you still believe in somethin’, somethin’, however deep. Yah only have to worry when, or if yah lose that insatiable desire.”

  “Wow, insatiable desires! I wish you’d stop usin’ fancy words Belinda.”

  “Joshua was the only child of Mary and Bertrand Tanner and she nearly died giving birth to him. He was born on the same day as my father and from a very young age as they grew up together, a deep bond developed between them and that bond never died. Mary was not suited to be a mother and in truth she simply did not know how to be. So my grandmother brought him up mostly, and he spent most of his time around her apron strings, with my father. Problems started when Joshua became of school age and he fretted real badly, being separated from my grandmother and my father. This is when my father saw brutality for the first time, because Mister Tanner would beat Joshua without mercy. My father told me that this would hurt him more than Joshua and he dreaded Mister Tanner coming to collect him. But because Mary was completely incapable of taking care of Joshua, he still spent all of his time out of school with my grandmother and my father. It was the only love he knew and all he wanted was to be with them. My father would go down to the school and wait for Joshua to come out each afternoon. He would listen at the school window and wished he could be inside with Joshua. One day the schoolmistress came out amongst the children and noticed my father waiting by the gate. When she asked him who he was waiting for, he replied my friend Joshua. Joshua appeared and took my father by the hand and said to the puzzled schoolmistress, ‘this is my friend Moses and he wants to be in school with me, but he’s not allowed.’ Her reply was, ‘Do you really want to go to school to learn like Joshua Moses?’

  His reply was, ‘yes ma’am I do, I do really wanna learn.’

  She then slipped into a mood of deep reflection, as if she was speaking through the voice of her father. Wayne slowly discovered the reasons why she was so articulate.

  “So this ageing school Ma’am let my father sit outside the window on a chair, which she passed through and gave him a pencil and paper, or sometimes a chalk-board with chalk and the window ledge became his desk. He had such fond memories of this woman, because what she was doing was completely unorthodox and could of got her into serious trouble. But when she realised that my father was learning very quickly and was eager to learn, she would give him extra work to do at home. He would have to creep away and leave over the back fence of the school when the school bell rang. That was his warning bell that some parents would be waiting at the school gate for their children to come out, and he dare not be seen for his sake and the teachers. Luckily the other children accepted this, although most of them found it strange why he should be sitting outside. He would wait for Joshua down the road and pounce on him from out of the hedgerows. As I told you, that bond never died and as Mister Tanner became aware of it as they grew closer together, not only did he try to break it, but teach Joshua in the art of cruelty and brutality. Mister Tanner was very fond of using his whip on anybody, for any reason. He was even notorious to other plantation owners in the area for his love of it. And my father would say that the use and administration of it as he damn well pleased, was the outlet where he relieved his greatest pleasures. When he told me this I didn’t realise that he meant warped sexual pleasure, but that’s another story… Mister Tanner grew to hate Mary, because of her interest in Joshua and his progression on the path to being a man, or rather brute, was not materialising as he had planned. In truth Mary was not much more than a soulless wretch, completely void of feelings, other than her own few comforts… Now when Mister Tanner’s temper got out of control, which was quite frequent, he would haul a handful of slaves out to one of the barns to whip them, for no reason… This is where Joshua learnt to hate his father with a vengeance. A hatred that smouldered and grew in silent brooding suffering…