Forsaken

FORSAKEN

Tony Flye

© Tony Flye, LLC 2015

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Frontpiece

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Afterward

About Tony Flye

Other books by Tony Flye

Connect with Tony Flye

Acknowledgements

Cover Photo by David Mark: Cover art by Rocky M.

All Bible texts are from the King James Version.

Dedication

For Susan, who still inspires me always.

"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"

Matthew 27:46, JKV

Chapter 1

You are surrendered, General Robert E. Lee, said to his army while sitting on his horse Traveler. The remnants of his Army of Northern Virginia gathered around him after he returned to his tattered army from his meeting with General Ulysses Grant.

Let us keep fighting, a soldier said looking up at his general.

We can win, another soldier said. Shouts of agreement came form the soldiers around him.

You have fought the good fight. We are finished. I cannot ask anymore from you. I will not ask anymore of you. You have given so much. Your war is over. General Grant told me he would have food brought up and would feed you after which you are free to go home to your families and rebuild your lives, Lee said as he rode off to his rented house in Richmond and wife Mary, who suffered for years from rheumatism.

Luke Harcourt looked at his brother Matthew. What do we do now?

We sit, eat and go home.

Home?

Home.

Luke and Matthew Harcourt joined the Confederate army along with their cousins, John and mark, before the first battle at Manassas. John was one of the first men killed at Manassas. Mark died at Antietam. Luke survived with only a minor flesh wound. Mathew was not injured.

The April night air cooled the warm spring day and the brothers, their stomachs full for the first time in a long time, had their best night's sleep since joining the army and awoke the next morning refreshed. The aroma of cooking food assailed their nostrils.

Maybe our Yankee hosts are serving breakfast, Luke said. They were.

I suggest we eat our fill and pack as much as we can to take with us, Matthew said.

Matthew and Luke walked all over Northern Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania and shoes were hard to come by in the southern army. The battle at Gettysburg started over a rumor of a supply of shoes to be had there. Turns out there were no shoes there, only crushing defeat. During the course of the war, Confederate soldiers relieved the dead Yankees of their brogans. Matthew and Luke were no exceptions. Their last three pairs of shoes were taken from the feet of dead Yankees. The shoes they had on now may or may not last long enough to get them home.

What Confederate money they had in their pockets was now worth more as sinks paper than currency. Both Matthew and Luke knew they would have a tough time with no money to buy food making their way home outside of Parker in the southwest corner of Virginia tucked in between what was once the western counties of Virginia, now the state of West Virginia and Tennessee. Their stomachs full and their kit bags as full as they thought they could get away with stashing, Luke and Matthew set out following the sun home.

The brothers walked along silently, each deep in their own thoughts wondering what the future held for them. Wondering what their farm held for them. About an hour or so into the walk Luke turned to his brother. How long do you reckon it'll take us to get home?

I heard some of the other men say Parker was about three hundred-fifty some miles from here.

We marched fifteen, twenty miles a day in the army.

"Yeah, but that was a forced march. We rested when they told us and we marched when they told us. We're not walking as fast now. We're walking at our own pace now. We'd be lucky to make ten miles a day.

Luke made some calculations in his head. That'll be thirty-five days. That's more than a month.

The Confederate enlisted men were forced to give up their rifles but the officers could keep their pistols, swords and those who had horses could keep them. Matthew was promoted to lieutenant just before the lines stepped out at Gettysburg and captain during the reorganization of the army after the catastrophe at Gettysburg. Luke skipped right over sergeant directly to lieutenant during the same reorganization. Each issued pistols and swords but didn't rank horses. It would have been nice to ride a horse or two home. Along with their pistols Matthew and Luke managed to keep their worn leather cartridge boxes and the belt which held it to their waists.

The sun was high in the cloudless noon day sky when they decided to take their first rest. They sat on a fallen log under a tree a few feet off the road. Luke reached into his kit bag and took out a piece of cooked beef and started to take a bite.

Are you sure you're hungry enough to eat now? Matthew asked.

Luke looked at the beef in his fist, then at Matthew. No, I guess not.

After three days walking, their food ran out. Fortunately for them there were few returning men traveling in this section of Virginia. They knocked on farmhouse doors along the way asking for food. Matthew hated to beg but he hated the alternative, starving, worse. The farms in this section of Virginia had very little to share. Most of the farmers who sent loved ones to war hoped some other good Samaritan would help their sons on their return. When the farmers shared some of their scarce food with Matthew and Luke, the brothers prayed for the safe return of the farmer's loved ones. If the farmers had nothing to share, the brothers prayed for them anyway.

Some of the farmers didn't allow the brothers to sleep in their barns, they slept in the nearby woods. Matthew and Luke offered to do chores around the farm in exchange for food. Trading labor for food didn't feel quite like begging.

An occasional farmer with a marriageable daughter tried to convince any whole returning veteran such as Matthew or Luke to stay and marry his daughter. The farmer's wives were even harder matchmakers than the fathers. With the casualties of war, marriageable men would be in short supply for the foreseeable future and the stigma of having an unmarried spinster daughter would be too hard to bear.

Matthew and Luke made hasty departures pleading they were worried about their widowed mother's health.

Once on the road again Luke said, The redhead back there was quite pretty.

Yeah, if you can overlook her two missing front teeth. Both brothers laughed.

If she kept her mouth closed, I mean, Luke said. After a moment, Luke said. I can't wait to see Annabelle again. Annabelle Stuart was the now twenty year old petite blond daughter of the neighboring farmer who fell in love with Luke when she was thirteen and he was seventeen. They talked about marrying before the war started. Annabelle was a full figured woman whose image kept him warm during the cold, lonely nights. Her letters spoke of her warm, passionate desire to be his wife.

Matthew and Luke walked on. Days turned onto weeks. Look at this, Luke said, pointing to his right shoe. The sole is beginning to come off and there's no more dead Yankees from which to requisition another pair.

Matthew laughed. The road's not too bad. Take your brogans off and walk barefooted. Tie your shoes together by the laces and sling them over your shoulder. I'll take mine off too. Do you remember when we were kids, we'd spend all summer barefooted?

Yeah, and we got a new pair of shoes in the fall for school.

And by the time summer came again our feet had grown and the shoes hurt. We were glad to go barefooted again, Matthew said. They sat by the side of the road and removed their shoes and ragged socks and walked on.

After about a mile, their feet felt comfortable walking on the dirt road except when they didn't notice a pebble and stepped on it.

About sunset the brothers came upon a clear, fast moving stream. They stopped on the bank and watched the water rush down stream. The bottom looks smooth, we can walk across, Matthew said, as he stepped into the cold rushing water. The water felt good on their feet. Once on the other side, they sat on a rock and dried their feet with their ragged socks.

Two weeks and still they walked. They slept in the woods by the road, a farmer's field and if they were lucky, in the farmer's barn. Everyday they walked. They walked through rain and wind; cold fall days with inadequate protection. The brothers were anxious to get home and start their new lives after the four years of war.

Near sundown one afternoon midway through the third week, Matthew and Luke stepped onto the Monroe farm. Luke noticed a light in the farmer's cabin and headed towards it.

Matthew knocked on the door. A man wearing a ragged Confederate uniform open the door.

Chapter 2

Yes?

Sorry to disturb you but we were wondering if you had any food you could spare us? Matthew asked.

You deserters? We don't have any food for deserters, the man said. His accent from the hills of western Virginia.

No. Paroled.

Paroled? The man looked dumbfounded.

Matthew looked at the man. He doesn't know. The war's over. General Lee surrendered.

The man stumbled backwards in shock. General Lee surrendered?

Almost three weeks ago. Didn't you hear? Luke asked.

No. Come on in and tell me all about it. My name is Jed Monroe. This is my wife Sarah, Jed Monroe said, pointing to the plain looking woman standing by the hearth silently stirring a pot hanging by a hook over the fire.

Sarah Monroe was in her late twenties with mousy brown hair pulled severely back. Her forehead and chin receded while her nose and prominent overbite gave her face the beaked look of a bird's head. She wore a plain blue cotton dress that had been washed too many times in strong lye soap turning the color to a washed out robin's egg. She stood almost five feet tall and probable weighted less than a hundred pounds.

Jed Monroe had the gaunt look of a soldier who survived on half rations, or less, for a long time. Through a tear in the left leg of his trousers, Matthew noticed Jed had a wooden leg. He stood only an inch or two taller than his wife. He appeared not much older than his wife. His sandy blond hair had some threads of gray intermixed as did his full beard. His uniform must've been the only clothes his had. There were repairs and tears along with worn out cuffs and knees. The brogan on his right foot, probably requisitioned from a dead Yankee, was held together by a thin rope. His gray eyes held the look of defeat.

The Monroe farm house was a single room cabin, or rather, more like a large shed roughly twelve feet on a side. The brick hearth took up about a third of the wall's width on the wall opposite the door. Rough homemade cabinets flanked either side of the hearth. The interior walls were the exposed studs and the inside of the cabin's exterior sheathing. The wall to the right of the hearth had a curtain blocking a large portion of the corner behind which Matthew assumed was where the Monroe's slept. Two straight backed chairs sat along the wall near the sleeping corner. The wall to the left of the hearth had various farm tools stacked. In the center of the room near the hearth sat a table with two ladder-back chairs. The table and the two chairs had at one time been painted white but time and usage wore most of the color away. The interior of the cabin had never seen any paint. Luke thought the cabin interior would be almost the same temperature and the outside air when winter comes.

Grab those two chairs by the wall and come sit at the table and tell me what happened. How come General Lee surrendered? Jed asked.

Matthew told the story. It was Gettysburg. We were there right in the thick of things, Pickett's division. We couldn't take the stone wall.

I heard about Gettysburg on my way home. Lost a lot a good men in the battle, Jed said.

After Gettysburg the Yankees chased us from the Wilderness and surrounded us at Petersburg. There was only one railroad line from Richmond to Petersburg still in our hands. We were starving. We hadn't had a food train for almost a week. General Lee kept begging Richmond for food. The last train to arrive before the Yankees cut off the line was full of ammunition. We didn't need the ammunition, we needed food. We couldn't eat the bullets. General Lee sent surrender overtures to General Grant. General Grant agreed to talk with General Lee. At the talk, General Lee surrendered.

Jed Monroe cried. His wife stood by the hearth silently staring down into the pot as she stirred, a bitter look on her face.

I was in the Twelfth Virginia. Lost my leg climbing Malvern Hill. A Yankee ball took off my left foot. I damn near bled to death before the surgeons got to me. I spent six months in a Richmond hospital. Infection set in. The doctors wanted to cut my leg off again, this time higher up. I talked them out of it and the infection went away. Before they let me go, the hospital people made me this wooden leg before they sent me home on foot with a crutch, Jed said lifting his left pant leg showing his artificial leg. Luke stared at the wooden leg. It took me almost a year to make it home here. I was lucky at times to ride in the back of a wagon but most of the times I walked on one good leg and one wooden leg. I was in pain most of the time from walking on the stump. My leg got infected several times on my journey home. I met a lot of good Christian people along the way who took me in, fed me and cared for me until the infection ran its course and I was strong enough to continue.

We were at Malvern Hill, Luke said.

I don't want to talk about that battle but I will say I never want to see another battle as brutal as Malvern Hill again. Jed chuckled. I guess with this piece of wood that won't happen, Jed said, patting his left leg.

"When I came back to the farm the place looked dilapidated. The cabin fell apart in places, the barn had one wall standing, the rest laid in pieces on the ground, the fields overgrown with weeds and the equipment rotted and rusted in the weather. The only patches of fresh turned earth were my Ma and Pa's graves, smallpox. They died while I was in the Richmond hospital.

Sarah's father buried my Ma and Pa. Sarah still hadn't said anything; she just kept adding water and stirring the pot. Her eyes alternating between Matthew and Luke, her husband and the pot hanging on the hearth hook as if she expected Matthew and Luke to make a grab for the pot and Jed couldn't protect her dinner. I married her the day after I got back home, Jed said, pointing to Sarah.

How long you boys been in? Jed asked, changing the subject.

Since the first battle at Manassas. We signed up with our cousins Mark and John. John was killed there at Manassas, Mark, at Sharpsburg, Luke said.

That's rough, Jed said.

We survived through the grace of God, Matthew said.

I guess when you think about it, so did I, Jed said. The sound of Sarah's grunt drew Luke and Matthew's attention. She scowled at her husband. Mathew thought he could see hatred in the woman's eyes. Her expression startled him.

A sad look came over Jed's face. His eyes looked down at his folded hands resting on the table. Luke noticed it as well. He looked at Matthew with a questioning look on his face. Matthew shrugged his shoulders as if to say I don't know. Sarah stared at Matthew but with his attention focused on Jed, he didn't notice her scowl.

Something wasn't right in the Monroe house. Matthew didn't know for sure what it was, but he didn't think this was the house of a returned veteran with a new wife. Something was missing. Maybe this chill between husband and wife was because of how Jed treated any returning veterans tramping by their, or rather, her front door like long lost brothers. Perhaps Sarah felt these pool souls invaded her privacy and took the food from her very mouth.

Jed blinked his eyes twice and came out of his funk. Sarah, how soon supper? When she didn't answer, he said, more sternly, Please set two more places for our guests.

Sarah grunted again and after a short pause said, Supper'll be ready in a few minutes. She places four bowls and spoons in the center of the table. Jed, pass out the bowls. She headed back to the hearth and Matthew watched as she poured more water into the pot, stir it around and throw another piece of wood on to the fire. Matthews watched as sparks rose from the fire when the new piece of wood landed on the already burning wood.

Supper was a thin soup like stew with a few early vegetables along with a few chunks of some sort of unidentified meat. A loaf of fresh bread still warm from the dutch oven complemented and improved the poor stew. Matthew and Luke considered this fare one of the better meals they could remember since the army last had beeves on the hoof.

Miz Monroe, this is an excellent supper, Matthew said. Luke mumbled something with his mouth full. Sarah smiled for the first time since the brothers knocked on the farmer's door. Every woman likes to be complemented on her cooking. The smile disappeared when she remembered two ratty looking veterans sitting at her table. Three, if she counted her husband. She seems to have forgotten her husband was once one of those ratty looking veteran making his way back home to her. Or maybe she didn't care. If she didn't care, why did she marry him, Matthew thought.

I'm sorry we don't have anything for dessert, Sarah said facetiously, from behind her tightly clamped teeth as she started clearing the table rattling the bowls. She put them and the spoons in a bucket of water near the hearth. Matthew thought it strange Jed didn't complement Sarah for her supper.

Even before their father, Zachariah, left his wife, sons and farm, he never treated their mother like Jed treated Sarah. Then again, Sarah wasn't exactly showing her husband any love either. Their mother, Elizabeth, still