Black Knights of the Hudson Book I: Shadow of the Flags

Black Knights of the Hudson

Book I: Shadow of the Flags

By Beverly C. Gray

Published by Beverly C. Gray at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Beverly C. Gray

This eBook is a work of historical fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author’s Note: This work of historical fiction is intended for mature audiences and contains adult language, graphic scenes of battle, and adult situations.

In loving memory of the Colonel and His Lady

Chapter 1

Virginia, July 1860

Half a lawn, half a lawn,

Half a lawn forward,

Here in the bosom of kin

Rides the bold grandson.

Timothy chuckled to himself. The scheme, concocted by himself, Fitzhugh Lee, and Harry Randolph, was a fitting start to his Army career. As he prepared to execute that plan, he continued to paraphrase Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Brigade.

Family to right of him,

Family to left of him,

Family in front of him

Gathered and gossiped;

Faced with his trust,

Boldly he’ll ride and thrust,

Into the sea of kin,

Forward and through the dust,

Rides the bold grandson.

Fireflies vied with flickering lanterns as guests congregated on the wide expanse of lawn near the James River. Over three hundred family members and friends had gathered at Rose Hill to celebrate the sixtieth wedding anniversary of Timothy’s grandparents, John and Catherine Randolph. There were so many guests in attendance that the bulky, Georgian house was bursting with visitors from as far away as New Orleans. Neighboring estates accepted the overflow willingly as their contribution to the weeklong celebration. Smudges were going full strength to discourage the mosquitoes and chiggers while the Randolph servants assembled a buffet in a well-lighted area of the lawn.

Under the direction of Peter, the butler who had trained two generations of Randolph servants, the long table was laden with food. At a curt nod from the austere black man, two younger men carried out a magnificent tiered anniversary cake in the style popularized by the recent wedding of England’s Princess Victoria. Guests held their breath as the sweating men eased their precious burden onto the center of the table. Both were perspiring; more from fear of what Peter would say if they dropped the cake than from the physical effort required to lift it.

Supper is ready, Miss Catherine, announced Peter.

Just a minute, Cousin Catherine, Fitzhugh Lee, who had followed his uncle Robert E. Lee into the Army, bounced over to them with the high-spirits of a circus ringmaster. Some of us have arranged a surprise for the anniversary couple. Cousin Catherine, Cousin John, Ladies and gentlemen. I give you the newest pride of the Cavalry, Lieutenant Timothy MacKendrick.

Puzzled, the guests turned their attention to the top of the hill where Timothy was mounted upon his dainty bay mare, Firefly. The young officer lifted his hat to acknowledge his introduction and then rode down the slope in a controlled canter; straight at the magnificent cake. Frail John Randolph seemed the first to get an inkling that his grandson was not intending to stop. Others soon realized the young man’s intent and a tremendous chorus of oohs and ahs came from the ladies punctuated by a few Good Lords and by damns from the men. Peter stared in open-mouthed disbelief as Firefly sailed over cake and table.

Timothy, flushed with pride for his horse, bowed before his grandfather as if he was a king on a throne instead of an old gentleman in a wheel chair. Happy anniversary, Sir.

John’s eyes glinted although the stroke, which had marred his features, prevented his mouth from echoing his pleasure and robbed his voice of its former heartiness. Scamp.

Happy anniversary, Grandmother.

Catherine eyed Timothy with a bit less enthusiasm. I suppose it could have been worse. You and that fool horse might have landed in the cake.

Timothy shook his head. Rose Hill thoroughbreds are the finest in Virginia or Maryland or anywhere. There was no chance that Firefly would miss that jump. Cousin Harry, Cousin Fitz, was that to your satisfaction?

Lee banged Timothy enthusiastically on the shoulder and snickered at James MacKendrick, who was standing near Catherine. What do you think of your gallant brother?

James spat the remnants of his cigar onto the ground. He had bitten it in two when Timothy flew over the cake.

~~~

Colonel Lafayette Randolph accepted yet another jovial comment about his dashing nephew but kept an eye out for the three miscreants. Tickled as he was by the prank, which was something he might have attempted himself twenty odd years before, a stern chiding was in order. The actual deed did not concern him as much as the fact that his nephew had allowed himself to be dared into attempting it. Timothy, while prone to impulsive boyish scrapes at times, just did not possess the sort of devious mind that would have come up with that little tactic. Lafe also discounted his other nephew, Harry Randolph, as being too guileless for such business. No, this entire affair bore the imprints of Bob Lee’s nephew for Fitz Lee’s larks at West Point were still the talk of the Academy.

James MacKendrick joined Lafe; his lips compressed in fury under his trim mustache. You are going to speak to Timothy.

I was thinking on it.

James’ gray eyes narrowed and he brushed an impatient hand through his dark hair. I should hope so! Good God, Lafe, he’s not a boy now. He’s an officer in the United States Army and...

I’m well aware of that fact, James. However, you should be able to remember the elation of changing the ‘Kaydet Gray’ for ‘Army Blue’ and putting on the gold bar for the first time. It's pure high spirits.

As a matter of fact, I do recall how it felt to graduate but it certainly did not compel me to jump a damned horse over a table filled with food!

No, but you’re a different man, James. Even when you were a boy you were a responsible...

Precisely, James pounced on the word. I was responsible which Timothy is not. Can you imagine what General Scott would have said to such an outrageous display?

Depending on the state of his gout, he would either have had apoplexy or hallooed the boy on. James, it’s different for Cavalry officers. They’re always more flamboyant than the rest of us and we always make allowances for them.

I won’t make allowances for Timothy. He is an officer now and he can damn well grow up!

Lafe sighed as James stalked off. James’ sense of honor was matchless but he lacked tolerance for those who did not measure up to his own exacting standards.

Gareth MacKendrick and Lafayette Randolph had been roommates at West Point and the bonds of friendship sown in those four years had grown deep. Both were Southerners; Gareth from Charleston and Lafe from Virginia. When they graduated way back in ‘32, Gareth had married Lafe’s favorite sister, Phoebe. Lafe had returned the compliment and wed Gareth’s younger sister, Dorothea. Gareth was killed during the War with Mexico. Within the year, his widow died as well and left behind James and Timothy. Lafe and Dorothea had taken the two orphans and raised them as their own. While Timothy enjoyed hearing stories about his real parents, it was Dorothea who had seen him through his childhood falls and fevers while Lafe had administered praise and discipline with a strong, paternal hand. For Timothy, Lafe and Dorothea were his father and mother. James clung to the memory of his true parents and seemed to measure everything against that memory.

Merry voices interrupted Lafe’s ruminations. He stood with his hands on his hips as Timothy, Fitz, and Harry sauntered down the slope. Firefly had been pampered, as only two Cavalry officers could pamper a horse, and left to munch some well-deserved oats. Having seen to the mare’s comfort, the trio was on a mission to see about some supper. Like James, Timothy had entered West Point at sixteen and didn’t seem old enough to be wearing that dress blue uniform. Young Harry, just eighteen and out on a very special furlough, was getting ready to start his second year at the Virginia Military Institute.

Lee caught sight of the Colonel first. Uh oh, better try an evasive maneuver, Boys.

Halt, Lafe ordered as they prepared to break ranks and bolt.

Fresh out of West Point, Timothy snapped to attention with gratifying speed; followed a split second later by Harry.

Lafayette’s temper was famous and only Fitz Lee was slow to obey. Oh, now, Cousin Lafe, why did you want to go and do that? You scared both these boys stiff with that bellow.

Lafe fixed Lee with a steely eye. I was under the impression that my eagles still outrank your bars, LIEUTENANT.

Fitz braced immediately.

Much better, Lafe purred as the threesome dressed ranks. Now then, whose idea was it to jump over the cake?

Silence greeted him.

Well? Lafayette peered into each young face. He was not a small man but he had to tip his head back considerably to compensate for Timothy’s sky-raking six-foot three.

Mine, Sir, Timothy answered.

YOURS!? But, I was sure that...I mean, dammit, Lee does have a reputation.

Fitz grinned widely. He’s a real joy, thought it up all by his lonesome.

No doubt with some encouragement from you. Very well, Harry, Fitz, you’re dismissed. Timothy, I want a word with you.

Can’t it wait, Lafe? I’m hungry!

Don’t worry, ‘Mothy, Fitz called consolingly. Harry and I will save you some vittles.

Harry nodded solemnly. A very small sum.

Was it really your idea? Lafe inquired.

We were admiring Firefly. She’s so beautiful, Lafe. I didn’t expect a present like her, a lantern overhead turned Timothy’s thick light brown hair the color of old gold.

You’ve worked hard these past few years and I wanted to give you something special to take to the Cavalry. Now, does this have anything to do with that stunt you pulled or are you trying to distract me?

Harry, Fitz, and I were admiring her and Fitz said it was a shame that it was too late to take her out and see how she jumped. Then Harry said that the moon was full tonight and I noticed all those lanterns. Well, one thing led to another and I suggested that I try her over the table. Fitz pointed out that a good Cavalryman never hesitates to show his mount to its best advantage and that it was just the kind of thing his friend Beauty would appreciate.

Beauty?

Lieutenant Stuart. He’s with the 1st Cavalry Dragoons too and Fitz said he'd write to him that I was a credit to the memory of my gallant father. Fitz is going to the Academy to teach Cavalry tactics, you know. That assignment, along with his service with the 2nd Cavalry in Texas, means his opinion will carry weight with another Cavalry officer.

My real concern is that you might have damaged the mare or yourself, Son, or collided with one of the guests.

Oh, that wasn’t likely. Didn’t you notice that Fitz and Harry kept a corridor clear for me?

Now that you mention it, I do seem to recall Lee shooing some people aside. However, you were still risking your idiotic neck.

Timothy’s gray eyes sparkled with the confidence of youth. No, I wouldn’t have tried it if I’d had any doubt that she could jump it. I had her over the hedge down by Craney Brook this morning and that’s nearly six feet.

I just want to say one thing more and then we’ll close this discussion. You did well at the Academy and got by with a minimum of demerits. I’m proud of you for curtailing your natural exuberance there but you’re going out to the frontier, Timothy, as an officer in the United States Army. Boyish escapades are all very good and well but out there, you run the real chance of getting killed or of getting your men killed. Don’t forget that you will be responsible for men’s lives.

I know. The old sergeant, who runs the stables at the Academy, gave me the best advice of anyone the day before graduation. He said a good second lieutenant, and one that’s apt to survive to become a first, keeps his mouth shut and listens to his senior non-commissioned officers.

I’m not sure that I agree with that entirely although there is a grain of truth to it. Granted, your non-commissioned officers are going to have the experience you lack but never forget that you are their commanding officer. Listen to them, by all means, but make your own decisions. You’re a fine man, Timothy, and you proved that by making it through one of the most difficult institutions in the country. Never, never let anyone, be he a subordinate or closest friend, make the decisions which are yours to make.

Such as Fitz Lee shaming me into jumping my horse over a table?

Exactly so, Lafe grinned and tousled Timothy’s hair as if he was ten again instead of twenty.

Can we go now, Lafe? I’m very hungry.

Arms linked affectionately, the two blue-clad officers ambled over to the table.

Peter saw them coming and moved to bar Timothy’s approach. You wait here, Mister Timothy. I’ll fetch your plate. I won’t let you anywhere near my table!

~~~

Early the next morning, while his various kith and kin pursued their own entertainments, Timothy strolled over to Rose Hill’s kitchen to bribe the cook for a picnic basket. Myra, overseeing the preparations for the mountains of food necessary to feed so many people, was not pleased at being pestered; even by one who as a small boy had captivated her ample heart with his sunny disposition.

Like all the other servants at Rose Hill, Myra had been freed almost forty years before at the death of John Randolph’s father. The senior Randolph, following the example of George Wythe, had manumitted his slaves by the terms of his will. Rose Hill had suffered financially from the arrangement for the first ten years but the Randolphs bore it with stoic tolerance. They were not Abolitionists in the real sense of the word nor did they advocate the immediate freeing of other peoples’ slaves. The idea of freedom was a question of conscience and could not be imposed upon other citizens of the South. The Randolphs believed that slavery would eventually die a natural death as more Southerners realized that it was unnecessary in the long-term. Just as the African slave trade had outlived its usefulness and been outlawed, they were convinced that slavery itself would eventually be abolished. There was already discussion in the Virginia legislature regarding that very thing.

What do you want, Mister Timothy? Myra demanded.

I was hoping that you could fix me a picnic basket.

I don’t have time.

Just a few crumbs and it won’t take you a minute or, you could give me the basket and I’ll fill it. Ow! Timothy snatched back stinging fingers which had drifted a bit too close to one of Myra’s fresh cookies and thus into the range of a long wooden spoon.

I heard what you did last night and I’m not wasting my time fixing a basket for you and those other trouble-makers.

I’m not taking Fitz and Harry on a picnic.

No?

I’m taking Dolly.

Myra’s face broke into a wide smile. In that case, I’ll fix you a basket, Mister Timothy. Come back in twenty minutes.

Thank you, Myra.

He raced up the stairs and entered a cheerful bedroom. It’s all set. Myra is fixing us a basket.

Dorothea MacKendrick Randolph glanced up from the sock she was darning for Lafe. That is good of her, as busy as she must be.

She wasn’t going to at first because she figured it was for Fitz, Harry, and me. The minute she heard that it was for you, she agreed.

Are you sure that you want to go picnicking with your old Auntie instead of one of these lovely belles?

Timothy put his arms around Dorothea. I will be taking the loveliest belle here, Dolly. Besides, we haven’t seen each other for so long and I’ll be leaving for Kansas soon. There’s so much I want to tell you.

Dorothea, who had been his confidant for most of his life, returned his hug. Timothy had been just five when his mother had brought her sons to Washington for a visit while Gareth went south with the Army to fight in Mexico. It had been love at first sight for both of them. She had no children of her own and, when his parents died, Timothy became her son in all but birth. She had always been so quick to show delight in his clothes, from his first long pants to his cadet gray.

How handsome you look. I do believe you’re taller than James now and he always scraped the sky. You’re all grown up, Timothy. Hard to believe that you’re fair game to the very girls who complained about you teasing them a few short years ago. Why, I’m not worried about Indians at all. Seems to me your real peril is the regiment of belles here at Rose Hill. By the way, that was quite a prank you pulled last evening and your grandmother isn’t very pleased with you.

Neither was Peter. Did you see him at breakfast? He guarded the side board as if it was the Holy Grail.

‘Darling, you really shouldn’t make fun of Peter. It’s one thing to play pranks on Gerome. He helped raise you and he’s as apt to enjoy your nonsense as your Uncle Lafe. Peter is an old man and he doesn’t have the sense of humor that Gerome has. In all innocence, you might hurt his feelings dreadfully.

You’re right, Dolly, I’ll behave.

That’s my boy. Now, let’s get started, shall we? Lafe has gone off with your Uncle Clay to tour the plantation so he’ll be gone for hours.

Is James around?

He went with them.

Aunt and nephew headed for a pleasant spot near the river where a stand of willow trees provided shade from the sultry summer sun. As the young man recounted his adventures at the Academy to his attentive aunt, he found himself listing all the things he loved best about Dorothea. Her seal brown hair had only a few silver threads running through it; making it hard to realize that she was in her mid-forties. Her eyes were the MacKendrick gray but in her case they held the softness of a summer mist. She had long, curving lashes that were so heavy they seemed to weigh her lids; giving her the appearance of a drowsy child. Timothy had never heard her raise her voice in emphasis and the cherishing she received from her devoted husband enhanced her inborn serenity. Tranquil as a calm sea at sunset, Dorothea was the center of her little family’s life. It was she who calmed the temperamental Lafayette and soothed James and Timothy during their boyhood peccadilloes.

Munching away on a piece of chicken, while he described the past year to her, Timothy ventured into the thing that had been troubling him since his arrival. I didn’t realize that James’ wife was so young.

She’s seventeen. I was that age when I married Lafe.

Timothy worshipped his elder brother but could still see the difference between Lafayette and James. A woman would have had nothing but tenderness with Lafe who was famous even amongst Virginians for his gallantry; and Virginians had raised gallantry to an art. Timothy was perceptive enough to realize that his brother might not have the patience to be quite so careful of a young bride’s sensibilities.

James and Marietta seem quite happy together, Dorothea continued.

Yes, she was quite radiant when I met her the other day. I was hoping to spend some time with James last evening. I reckon he’s still busy being the happy bridegroom.

They were almost finished when their picnic was disrupted by the arrival of pests.

Dorothea’s serene brow wrinkled slightly. Ants I can deal with. However you two...

Fitz and Harry had arrived on horseback, leading Firefly.

Timothy hesitated, torn between the desire to spend more time with Dorothea and a chance to ride his horse.

Dolly started to pack up the picnic basket. Run along, Darling. I want to spend some time with Marietta, anyway. She’s my first chance at having a daughter, you know.

Timothy gave his aunt a quick peck on the cheek and swung onto Firefly. The girth slipped and Timothy sprawled on the ground with one long leg thrown over the upended saddle. He eyed the innocent-looking Fitzhugh Lee. Very funny.

Why ‘Mothy, what are you doing down there?

Harry laughed so hard he very nearly joined his cousin on the ground. Dorothea dissolved into giggles.

Lee continued to regard Timothy from his lofty position atop his own mount. Hurt your fan...self?

Timothy untangled himself with as much dignity as he could muster and got to his feet. Certainly not, you know as well as I do that Cavalrymen always bounce on landing.

He got the saddle over Firefly’s back and fastened the girth while the mare nibbled at his hat. Her limpid eyes were fastened on her master as if she was a bit puzzled as to why her saddle had misbehaved. Before Harry or Fitz realized he was even aboard, Timothy tightened his knees and Firefly shot forward.

Blast. I keep forgetting he actually knows one end of a horse from another. Come on, Harry.

Harry guffawed as he followed after Lee.

~~~

Everyone said that it was the nicest ball they had ever attended. Two huge chandeliers illuminated the ballroom so that it sparkled as impressively as Versailles. Myriad lanterns turned the garden into a fairyland that beckoned to the young cavaliers and their fair ladies while notable families vied as to who had the loveliest daughter or most chivalrous son. The prank by Timothy, Fitz, and Harry on the first evening had gotten the anniversary celebration off to a fine start and the past five days had been marked with fun. This grand ball was the culmination of the festivities. Earlier that day, there had been a mock tournament in which the exuberant young men had strutted about in pasteboard armor and had charged each other with wooden lances. No one was seriously injured, although a few gallants had sustained bloody noses and bruises which required the instant solicitude of their fair ladies. Chivalry ruled the day as all tried to emulate the limpid language that was characteristic of Sir Walter Scott’s famous romances. The young women and girls had been in ecstasy over their sumptuous gowns and trailing veils of a bygone era and presented their silken scarves as favors to their chosen champions.

Several of these gentle damsels, now attired in pastel ball gowns draped over wide hoops, watched enviously as one of their number whirled by in the arms of the victor of the tournament. Each belle sighed as light from the twin chandeliers made the buttons on his dress blue uniform and the single gold bars on his broad shoulders sparkle. He was so tall, so gallant, so handsome!

Young men viewed the brand-new lieutenant and his rapturous partner with varying degrees of amusement, sourness, or open jealousy.

"Look at Sally Lee. She’s so wrapped up in MacKendrick, I’m surprised she hasn’t swoooooned on the spot, Sally Lee’s intended grumbled into his punch cup. What’s the matter with ‘em? You put a sword and brass buttons on a man and they immediately fall all over themselves."

Never mind, have some more punch. He can’t dance with every girl all night.

Timothy, unaware of the ruffled feathers, escorted his partner back to the flock of girls and claimed a dance with his brother’s bride. In the past few days, he had formed a strong attachment to Marietta whose butterfly nature found a sympathetic echo in his own. She was an ideal sister. He guided her around the floor as the orchestra played one of Strauss’ cheerful polkas. Are you enjoying the ball?

Oh yes, I adore balls. I am rather hot though, she flicked her yellow fan open and waved it rapidly over her flushed face.

Say no more, Timothy steered her to the wide verandah doors.

~~~

Near midnight, James realized that he had not seen his bride in some time. A quick glance about the ballroom ascertained Timothy’s absence as well. James went in search of the missing pair and found them, arm-in-arm, rambling through the garden. James’ step quickened as they paused near the fountain. If Timothy dared to take her into his arms…it was obvious there was a mutual attraction between his dashing brother and impressionable wife.

So, there he sat, Timothy’s light, lilting baritone stopped him. Covered from head to toe in thick Virginia mud. I can still see the expression on his face. James hasn’t liked horses since.

At least it explains why he won’t go riding with me. I thought maybe he didn’t like my company anymore, Marietta smoothed a wrinkle in her soft yellow gown.

Why Marietta, what a thing to say! Of course James likes your company! He loves you very dearly.

Really? Marietta’s smile broke like the sun through a cloud. It’s just that he spends so much time with the other gentlemen.

James hasn’t seen much of them lately. You know what the Army’s like. I reckon it has been pretty hard on you being thrown in with all this family business. Shall I say something to James for you?

Oh no, I don't want him bothered with this.

It isn’t any bother.

James coughed to alert them to his presence and to stifle his unwarranted suspicion. So it’s you, Timothy. I figured I’d have to call someone out.

I was just getting acquainted with my new sister. I was telling Marietta all about you and she was telling me about her escapades.

Marietta’s curls danced as she shook her head at Timothy who did not notice.

What escapades?

Climbing trees and so forth. Do you suppose there is any food left? apparently unaware that he had given any secrets away, Timothy headed back to the ballroom.

Silence remained behind him as James gazed down at his little wife. Marietta refused to look at him but wound and unwound the long end of her sash.

Marietta?

She became more engrossed in the sash

Marietta, look at me.

When she still refused, James slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her head up so that her eyes were forced to meet his own. Now what is this about escapades?

It was only a small tree, James. No, that isn’t true, it was a very big tree but no one saw me. It was at Saratoga Springs on our honeymoon and this little girl’s kitten had gotten stuck in the tree. She was crying, James, and there was no one else nearby so I had to go up after it, her voice faltered as his jaw clenched.

James stifled the laughter before it could boom out of his lungs. While Timothy’s