William Keener - Pearl and the Nigger

General Jackson welcomed the opportunity to confer with General Lee. He needed firsthand information on the conditions in western Virginia. This would be a private meeting of two dear friends where things could be discussed in confidence, personal opinions would be laid bare, and likes and dislikes could be called by their right names. General Jackson and two staff members accompanied by Lieutenant Campbell left for the secret meeting place.

General Lee was the first to arrive at the secluded country farmhouse of an old and trusted personal friend. He was thrilled that he and Jackson would meet and talk matters over, out of range of the eyes of the army and the ears of the government in Richmond. These men, already looming as the right and left arm of the Confederacy, would talk, not as officials of the army, but as citizens of the old South.

It was nearing sundown when General Jackson and his party arrived at the appointed rendezvous. When Molly saw her brother coming, she ran from the porch down to the roadside to meet him.

“Levi, Levi,” she called. “Oh! It’s so good to see you. I have a big surprise for you.”

Levi threw his arms around his sister, kissed her on the cheek, and replied, “Yes? Little sister? Did you kill a Yankee?”

“You’re right. How did you know?” she replied.

“You did? You mean, you killed him dead?” excitedly, he asked.

“Yes, big brother, I killed one and I married one.”

“Hallelujah, you’re not fooling—”

Molly interrupted. “Levi! Listen to me, I said, I married one. You know, I wrote you about my Yankee friend.”

Levi’s lips parted—he froze, and for a few seconds he couldn’t speak.

“He’s more than a friend now, Levi. We were married over a month ago. And, Levi, he is here, see, standing on the porch, up there?” Molly said, pointing toward the Southern mansion.

Before any more could be said, the host greeted them and ushered his distinguished guest and members of his party up the brick walk that curved slightly between two large sugar maples before joining the steps to the porch.

As they stepped out onto the porch, General Lee greeted each of the officers in Jackson’s party and then greeted Thomas J. Jackson with a hearty hug and a kiss on his cheek. They exchanged pleasantries, turned, and walked into the mansion.

Molly, upon reaching the porch, took Andy’s hand and said, “Levi, this is my husband, Andy Yates. Andy, this is my big brother, Levi Campbell.”

Under his breath into Molly’s ear, Levi hissed, “A Yankee! Do you mean you married a damn Yankee?”

“Why not? Why not?” she replied, stamping her foot.

“You, you—you—Molly Campbell! You ask me why not?” Levi angrily answered.

“Yes, I ask you why not,” Molly responded. “He saved my life when I was attacked by three drunken Yankee soldiers. I owe him my life and you owe him a debt of gratitude.”

Andy stepped forward and extended his hand. Levi Campbell took one step back, stiffened, and did not accept the friendly gesture. Instead, he turned toward Molly and answered, “I owe him nothing! I owe no damn Yankee anything but cold steel and a miniball. Molly, how in hell could you do this? Have you forgotten our father?”

Cold steel flashed in Molly’s eyes, but softly and tearfully she replied, “No I have not forgotten my father. If alive, he would approve and be thankful. Levi, I haven’t lost any of my devotion or loyalty to the South just because I married a Yankee. Andy cannot return to the North. Don’t you understand that? He was charged with treason and murder after he came to my rescue that night. That damn Yankee Colonel Hayes would have court-martialed him and shot both of us if General Lee hadn’t come to our rescue. You know, I wrote you that two of those drunken soldiers were killed and another one badly wounded in the fight that night.”

“Because of this, I owe him?” sneered Levi. “I owe him nothing—nothing—nothing.”

“We’re going to Richmond,” interrupted Molly. “We’ll stay in Richmond until this war is over.”

“A Yankee will not find any peace in Richmond,” Levi laughed. “And you a Yankee’s wife will be miserable. I think this will be punishment enough for you—”

“Levi, but you don’t understand,” angrily Molly interrupted. “Andy is going as a prisoner of war. He has a letter from General Lee. This war won’t last long. He won’t have to stay there long.”

“No, it cannot,” Lieutenant Campbell declared. “We’re going to stomp the hell out of them. The South is preparing to conscript enough of its young men to make an end to this war in short order. It will soon end after enrolling all the eligible men in the South.”

Andy had listened in silence to his hotheaded brother-in-law until his blood was boiling. “What if the North resorts to drafting?” interrupted Andy. “The North has legions of young men that can be enrolled in the defense of our flag.”

“Our flag, like hell, it’s your flag,” snapped Levi. “Let them bring their legions. They will need them. Many—many more than they have. If you’d seen that footrace over at Bull Run the other day, you’d understand what I am saying. They were running like scared rabbits. Stonewall Jackson demoralized the hell out of them and could whip the whole damn Northern army if they would turn him loose.”

Andy, smiling, replied, “I have great admiration and respect for both General Jackson and General Lee and many other Rebels despite the fact that they have cast off the United States uniform and joined the Southern cause, but there is one little Rebel that I adore more than any person here on earth. That is your sister and my wife. I love her regardless of her attachment to the South. Regardless of who wins the war, you are my brother-in-law, and for Molly’s sake, let’s be friends.”

“Never! Never!” thundered the lieutenant. “Anyone who makes war on my people, who allies himself with the murderers of my father and invades the proud state of old Virginia, can never be my friend.”

Tears in her eyes, Molly asked, “What has embittered you so? You do not act like my brother. How can you treat the man I love so badly? Andy is my husband, and for my sake, be friends with him.”

“First, let him prove he is my friend by putting on the gray and taking his place in the ranks of the South,” retorted Levi.

“That could never happen, Lieutenant” was Andy’s prompt reply. “My sympathies are with the Union. A few months ago I enlisted pledging my support and loyalty to the North, and God helping me, I will give my life if necessary to defend the Union against any who seeks to destroy it.”

“I like your frankness, sir, and admire your loyalty and fighting spirit. It is useless for us to discuss the matter further. We cannot and will not be friends,” answered Levi, turning and walking from the porch out into the beautiful garden surrounding the old mansion.

Andy had never eaten such a delicious dinner. He had never tasted chicken dipped in a milk batter and fried to a golden brown in a large cast-iron skillet. Potatoes that had been mashed and mixed with fresh homemade cow’s butter; beets with a light, tart sauce, which the host referred to as Harvard; and a vegetable that Andy had never seen and surely never eaten that Molly called okra. That had been rolled in a light cornmeal batter and fried in another large cast-iron skillet until golden brown. Then for dessert, another new taste that Andy found very delicious, apples and pears that had been spiced and pickled and canned, in the same jar, early that fall.

Dinner had been over for better than an hour, but no one had left the table. Andy was growing weary and angry at all the talk of the Rebels winning the war. With the exception of a few minutes in which General Lee highlighted the occurrences in Western Virginia, all he had heard was about the battle of Bull Run. How Union forces under General McDowell advanced across Bull Run Creek and stormed the plateau of Manassas, causing the Confederate troops to retreat until General Jackson rallied his men and halted the Union advance. Levi led the discussion relating how for three hours General Jackson stood like a stone wall, giving orders, rallying his men until the advantage shifted and the Federal troops retreated in confusion. Levi, in telling the story, had become too familiar, calling General Jackson TJ and Stonewall. Andy thought Levi to be insubordinate by referring to the general by his initials and a nickname.