CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The Other President
May 1865, Luke figures by autumn corn will arrive by the wagonload to be ground in to cornmeal. Farmers all around the area are beginning to plant again, and if all goes well with the weather, there should be a bountiful crop. He is even thinking of building the Mill larger. His mind is on the future, not the past.
“Luke! Luke! I see riders a comin’ from the east!” said Jethro from high on the waterwheel. At this height, he could see for a mile or two down the main road.
“Who are they Jethro?”
“Don’t know Luke, looks like two or three carriages and a number of them horse soldiers. If I didn’t know better, I’d say them fellers on those hosses were Confed’s. They’s all decked out in gray.”
“The War’s over, what would they still be doing in uniform?”
Everyone at the mill stops working and congregates in the courtyard awaiting the arrival of this strange caravan of travelers.
They did not have long to wait. Within minutes, the sound of the hooves of six mounted cavalrymen echoes from the planking of the Mink Creek Bridge to the gathered group. A number of carriages follow the cavalry. Bringing up the rear are more mounted cavalrymen, a train of horses, mules, and wagons.
The convoy of carriages stops, Luke walks to the door of the first conveyance to greet whoever is inside. An officer of the mounted cavalry moves his horse and blocks Luke’s path. The cavalryman is a Confederate colonel. “Sir,” said Luke, “the War is over, move your horse out of my way!”
“My apologies Sir, I am only doing my duty protecting the President.”
Out of the carriage steps a rather tall gentlemen, dressed in a superbly tailored gray suit. “Forgive Colonel Forley, he is merely following orders – he has followed orders from the beginning. The Colonel, then a Lieutenant, fired the first mortar round at Fort Sumter at 4:30 a.m. on the 12th of April 1861. His shot began our War for Southern Independence.
“Forgive me, my good man,” the gentleman said sticking out his hand, “I am, well was, President Jefferson Davis.” Turning to his carriage, “May I introduce you to my wife Varina and my children, this is Maggie, Jeff, and Willie. My wife has our young daughter Winnie in her arms.”
Luke is stunned; he can think of nothing to say, ‘Madam’ he finally utters as he bows and touches the brim of his hat and then removes it from his head.
“Sir,” said President Davis, “we stopped perchance we could water and rest our animals? And if not too inconvenient rest a spell with you ourselves.”
“Mister President,” responded Luke pointing toward the watering trough, “the water over there is for your animals. I’m sorry the only place we have, for you to rest, is here at our Mill. The Yankees have destroyed the remainder of the town. I have no refreshments to serve, for that I am truly ashamed.”
“No need, we have an ample supply, would you be so kind as to join us in our respite?”
“Thank you, Sir, it would be an honor.”
“Sir, you have not introduced yourself nor informed us of our current location.”
“Oh, how terribly rude of me Sir, I am Luke Scarburg. You are in the vicinity of Scarlettsville, South Carolina. In particular your party is currently reposing at the Scarburg Mill.”
“This seems a quiet, peaceful area, my, what a wonderful wooden bench under that magnificent old oak. Would you mind if we sat underneath it to partake of our fare? Such a place that is so peaceful and devoid of the ravages of war.”
“It would be an honor President Davis, but Sir this place has not always been so tranquil and peaceful.”
“But Mr. Scarburg, what do you mean?”
“Sir, you are standing in the midst of a long ago battlefield. You see, a pitched battle occurred here and afterward my forefather and two of his sons, were hanged on a limb of this very tree.”
“I say,” said President Davis looking up at the old oak, “those Yankee rascals hung your relative and his sons during our recent unpleasantries?”
“Oh, no Sir, he was a patriot defending liberty during the Revolutionary War.”
“So,” said Mr. Davis, sitting down on the bench, “I favor then you are agin war?’
“Yes sir, but being against it doesn’t mean you can avoid it.”
“Did you serve, Sir?” President Davis said cutting a big slice from a red apple with his pocketknife, and offering the piece to Luke.
Taking the apple slice, Luke began to talk as he takes a bite, “Yes sir, 48th Alabama Infantry, got captured during Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg.”
“Oh, I see, that was a bad one and your family?” He said, taking a bite of his apple slice.
“My father Robert Scarburg and my brother Matthew were with me at Gettysburg. Both were wounded, but since then we have not heard a word from them. My mother is still alive and wants to journey to Gettysburg, maybe she thinks it will satisfy her mind just to see the place where they were possibly killed.”
“As you probably can guess I do not have much influence left but,” calling Colonel Forley over to the bench, “Colonel write out a safe conduct pass for Mister Luke Scarburg.” Turning back to Luke, “If you take your mother to Pennsylvania, many of our young men do not take our surrender to heart and still wish to continue the fight. If, perchance, you run afoul of them maybe this pass will be of some assistance.”
For another hour or so Luke sits casually talking with the past President of the Confederate States of America. Mr. Davis explained his role in the War and the causes of its beginning and the effects that it has created now. Luke tells him the horrors of the battlefield and what the cruel consequences it had on families.
“Mr. President! Mr. President! We must go, riders are coming...they are about a mile back,” yells the Colonel.
Within seconds, rifle shots are heard coming from the advancing riders. Luke yells to all his workers, “Into the Mill! Get inside behind the stone foundation, it will be safer.”
Colonel Forley removes his pistol and fires one single shot into the air. “Now Sir, let it be said I fired the first shot, and I fired the last shot of our Great War for Southern Independence.”
The group of Confederate soldiers guarding President Davis offers no further resistance and are quickly surrounded by a detachment of the 4th Michigan Cavalry. Ah, the Iron Brigade, Captain Armstrong, Judson H. Bouchard, Phi Beta Kappa, Luke remembered it as though it were yesterday.
As he begins to step back in to his carriage President Davis, removes his hat, looks at Luke and remarks, “Son, I thank you and your family for their service, not only to the Confederacy but earlier to their sacrifice to the United States. The Confederate States of America are no more – we are all now just Americans. Good luck to you and your family. May God bless us all.”