* * * * *
Word spread throughout the valley quickly that a festival is being planned at Scarburg Mill on Saturday the 4th of July. People cannot believe it! It has been years since they have assembled together in a festive atmosphere. They marvel in anticipation of the party as a young child does the night before Christmas. Women folk from all around begin making preparations for the event. It seems in the South every woman has a specialty food. She prepares this special dish for those rare occasions such as dinner on the ground at revival time at church. Or as happened before the War when the circuit-riding preacher came through and it was their turn to feed the Reverend Sunday dinner.
Roberta Hunt kills the last Road Island Red chicken they have and makes a huge pot of her delicious chicken and dumplings, Barbara Almond, somehow or other got the fixings to make her four-layer dessert. Farah Harper makes up the biggest batch of fried apple pies that she has ever made. Diane Brown is famous for her cornbread dressing. Two big pans aren’t enough for this day; she makes three. This type of cooking is happening all across the hills and hollows around Scarburg Mill. The people have been miserable for so long they wanted a day to forget and a chance to remember the good times.
Malinda gets with Jethro, Rube, and Dan’l and arranges for them to spruce up the old Mill and the surrounding grounds. She asks if they would build a few wooden eating tables and benches for serving dinner to the large crowd expected to attend. She also wants three gallows ropes tied and placed over the old wooden bench underneath the oak tree. As the highlight of the day’s activities, she is going to reenact the hanging of Pappy John Scarburg and his two sons during the Revolutionary War.
The people have not been proud of much during these past few years, but they have always been proud of the John Scarburg family and the Scarburg Mill. They will always remember their heroic actions on that fateful day back on the 15th of April 1781. Malinda even had the local stonecutter who makes tombstones engrave a stone especially for the event.
The plan is to have a band, albeit a band, which only consists of a fife, bugle and drum play a couple of tunes. She is unsure which ones, since she does not know, exactly, what they can play. Regardless, after the tunes and the reenactment of Pappy John’s hanging, a cloth covering the stone will be removed, and the old cannon, that sits in front of the Masonic Lodge Number One, will be fired. A big pile of cannonballs is stacked in a neat pyramid beside it; however, the plan is to shoot it with only a powder charge and, hopefully, with no cannonball.
Saturday morning the old rooster at the barn announces the arrival of daybreak; however, all the women folk have been up and stirring much earlier. Today is going to be special and they want to get an early start. At this early hour, no one living in the carriage house at Scarlett could realize just what a special day this 4th of July is to become!
“Come on young’uns,” yelled Sary to the household of young folks and old alike for that matter, “Y’all git a move on...we’s burning daylight.” Although none in the house realized it at the time, Sary was as excited as the children. She had never been to a real party in her whole life, especially one like Mizz Malinda has planned. Oh, there had been occasions when she was younger she would carry food to a family when one of their loved ones died, or enjoy dinner on the grounds at the local church from time to time, but never has she gone to an honest to goodness, undeniable, actual party.
The front of the Mill looks festive and pleasant. Jethro, Rube, and Dan’l along with the other Mill workers have tables set up around the Mill grounds. Red, white and blue bunting hangs along the entire front of the building. A large American flag is fluttering from a tall post the men have put up; a thick hemp noose and rope is draping limply over a limb hanging above the bench sitting under the oak.
As the Scarlett bunch gets to the Mill, Malinda can see the stone marker sitting off to one side beneath the massive oak. It is covered with a white bed sheet. They are the first to arrive, but within minutes, people from the surrounding countryside begin to assembly at the Mill. No one wants to miss a minute of this incredible day. Within a couple of hours, the area around the Mill is filled with people. Up and down the road and on the sides of the Mill are wagons, buggies and horses left by their owners hurrying to the festivities in the courtyard of Scarburg Mill.
A wagon is positioned in front of the Mill, and the mayor of Scarlettsville steps up in to the bed and begins to speak. “Folks,” he said holding his hand in the air. “Folks, my good friends and neighbors of Scarlettsville. May I take this opportunity to welcome you to the first celebration of our Founding Father’s Day and the Fourth of July Celebration...”
On and on his oration continues for a least an hour; Malinda makes a mental note to remember next year to politely explain to the Mayor to limit his speech to the day’s activities only.
‘Oh well,’ she thought, ‘what did she expect getting a politician to speak!’ Finally, he is getting to the end of his politicking, “Now friends after the Reverend Plunkett says grace we will partake of this wonderful meal, ummm, I can taste Sister Roberta’s dumplings already,” he said licking his lips. “After we eat we will listen to the band play a couple of rollicking tunes and as the grand finality these fine folks will reenact the events that took place here in 1781 including the dedication of a memorable stone.”
Ending his speech, he steps down from the wagon with a thunderous roar of applause. Thinking it is for his excellent deliverance he removes his hat and bows graciously; however, they are clapping because he finally finished talking.
Mark is to play the part of Pappy John Scarburg; Stephen and Thomas Henry are to be the sons William and Isaac. All three dress in the style of the revolutionary day - breeches, white shirts, waistcoats, and stockings. Cravats tied around their necks, and three-cornered hats complete thetheir outfits. The breeches closely fit and end at the knee. White stockings extend from the knees to the highly shined shoes with large buckles.
Malinda did not want anyone left out, so she assigns Nate Junior the part of the British Colonel Sir David Wilcox. They have no real British uniforms, so Sary fashions him one complete with a red jacket and white breeches. She pins three sides of a wide brimmed hat in to a tricorne and applies balls of cotton to resemble a white wig. At his side, he carries a borrowed, long cavalry saber, which drags the ground, but no one notices, or so he thinks.
Malinda has enlisted a number of townspeople to portray the British attacking the Mill and others play the part of the Patriots defending. All fire blank charges from their muskets. The spectators stand afar and have a marvelous time witnessing the fighting; clapping and yelling as each of the British actors are ‘killed’. After the ‘battle’ it is time for the hanging. All the participants take time to reassemble on the grounds in front of the Mill, the ‘band’ plays a tune or two then the fife and bugle cease playing. The drummer begins his ‘Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat’... somber beat.
From the door of the Mill, three ‘prisoners’ are slowly being ushered across the open courtyard to the bench and the awaiting gallows. Mark playing the part of Pappy John already has a black hood covering his head; the other two wear three-cornered hats. Their hands are not tied. They walk solemnly and slowly across to the oak tree. ‘John’ is guided up on the bench; sons ‘William’ and ‘Isaac’ are positioned next to him. ‘Colonel Wilcox’ strolls across the yard, dragging the end of his sword on the ground as the spectators try to muffle their laughter. Up to the bench he saunters and in as loud a voice as he can muster says, “Dost thou request a last word?”
He walks up close to John Scarburg, and they talk quietly, the ‘Colonel’ turns to the crowd, “Master Scarburg requests a word with his youngest daughter Elizabeth.”
Luke standing closest to Malinda, “Mother, this is not the way we rehearsed – Pappy is supposed to ask to speak to grandfather Thomas, what is happening?”
Malinda looks at Isaac, who was to play the part of John’s youngest son Thomas and shrugs
her shoulders and shakes her head as tho’ bewildered too. Stephen and Thomas Henry, playing the parts of William and Isaac stand on the bench next to the hooded Mark with looks of amazement. “Okay, Lizzie,” Said Malinda, “I don’t know what Mark is up to, but walk over there to the bench. We will just have to see what is going on.”
Lizzie is hesitant to go, but with prodding, she leaves the crowd and walks across the yard to the bench. She nervously glances from side to side. She is very apprehensive because she was not told she had a part in today’s spectacle. She is worried since she has no lines to speak and does not know what to do. Arriving at the bench, she knew from yesterday’s practice Isaac, playing the part of little Thomas, steps up on the bench and he and his father whisper to each other. She supposes she should follow his example and do the same.
She climbs up on the bench and moves closer to Mark. Close enough to clutch his pant leg. When she grasps his leg, he reaches down and swoops her up in to his arms while removing the black hood covering his face.
At first Lizzie cannot believe what she sees – it is not Mark Holmes at all – it is her...her... father...Robert! She is speechless, and scared, she can barely remember what her father looked like before leaving for the War. This man resembles him, but she isn’t quite sure.
At first a murmur spreads through the crowd, now there is complete silence. Malinda sees Robert, but she like Lizzie is not quite sure who this man is, for certain it is not Mark Holmes. She takes a step or two toward the bench as Robert and Lizzie get down. The whole place is stunned – is this Robert Scarburg?
It was!
Everyone finally realized who is standing in their midst – the father of all these children, Malinda’s husband and their long thought dead neighbor. For minutes, they all can do nothing but hug and kiss. Neighbors come by slapping him on his back and wishing him well, others tell him how glad they are to see him back from the War.
Finally, the excitement subsides somewhat, and they all learn that Robert arrived early this morning and by chance, he met Mark at the Mill. Mark explained the day’s events when Robert got the idea to surprise them with his appearance during the reenactment of Pappy John’s ‘hanging’ on this special day.
Everyone mills about. No one is quite sure what is to happen next. Malinda sensing the anxiety in the crowd climbs up on the mayor’s wagon. “Good friends and neighbors, obviously things did not go as planned,” she said looking at Robert and smiling, “the return of my husband Robert is wonderful,” there is a roar of applause, “but the day’s activities are not over yet. Everyone get some more drink and refreshment and permit me to have a moment with my husband.”
From someone in the crowd, “Now let’s not be sneaking off into the woods!” He said, followed by laughter from the others.
“Ah, go on,” Malinda said smiling, “we’ll be right here and in a few minutes we will dedicate the monument under the oak tree.”
“Robert,” Malinda asks as they sit at one of the tables about the Mill’s grounds. “Why did you never post me a letter during all the time you were gone?”
Robert was aghast. He could not believe what his wife is saying; she had never received any of his letters? Surely something had to be wrong, “Malinda, I posted you a letter every chance I had. Sometimes I could not due to the lack of writing material, but I must have sent you at least one letter a month; you should have received dozens and dozens of letters. You know that is strange too. I never received any posts from you either; however, I always believed you had no way of knowing where I was. And those last couple of years I knew you did not know I was in a prisoner of war camp at Point Lookout.”
He went on to tell how disheartening it was to see other prisoner’s receiving mail from their loved ones. He said he would stand eagerly by the man distributing the mail just waiting for his name to be called. The mail clerk would call out a man’s name and he would hear a return of ‘Yo’, he would then toss the letter to that person. Month after month he followed the same routine, but he never heard his name called. He said he hoped and prayed for some word from his family. He wondered if they were still in Alabama, had something happened to them, were they alive? These questions gnawed at him continually. The uncertainty of it all weighed heavier on him more than the misery he suffered in the prison.
Malinda sat, just listening to the heart-wrenching words Robert spoke. She said she had much to tell him, but the folks gathered for the celebration wanted to complete the day with the unveiling of the monument to Robert’s great-great-great-grandfather and his uncles. She thought since Robert was home;, it should be his honor to unveil the memorial.
“Attention! Attention everyone, let us all gather at the old oak, and we will conclude the festivities for the day.”
Malinda and Robert stand in the midst of the crowd next to the sheet-covered monument. Robert steps forward; this once six-foot, one hundred eighty-five pound, black haired man was almost unrecognizable. He barely weighed more than one hundred twenty; his beard and hair were almost white, he struggled with his speech. All standing around can see the results of the past few years of War on his body.
He grasps the corner of the white coverlet and looks at the crowd. “Folks,” he says, trying to recognize those gathered around him. “Hello, there Hack, good to see you, oh, how do you do Mizz Roberta. I’ll wager those chicken dumplings of yours are still as good as I remember,” tipping the brim of his hat. “Howdy Luther, good to see you too. I’d heard you took a minie-ball at Shiloh, you doing tolerable now?”
From within the crowd, “Doin’ good Robert, good to see you.”
“I’m just glad to be home, and I’ll get around to seeing each and every one of you as soon as I can, but right now Malinda has something planned that I’m not quite sure what it is. She told me to pull this sheet off this rock and then say a few words. Well, here goes...”
Once the covering is removed everyone squeezes in close trying to see what is chiseled on its face. Robert steps up and holds his hands into the air, “Friends, I know everyone cannot get up front to read these words so I will read what is written for you.” He then in a loud voice reads the words:
IN HONOUR AND RECOGNITION OF
JOHN SCARBURG
WILLIAM SCARBURG
ISAAC SCARBURG
FOR HUMANE AND LIFE SAVING CARE
RENDERED TO FRIEND AND FOE ALIKE
ON THIS PLACE
IN APRIL 1781
The crowd was silent...suddenly the fife, drum and bugle begin to play a rousing rendition of “Dixie”, one of the few tunes they knew fairly well. The quite gathering of people immediately broke in to song and began singing, each singing at the top of their voice trying to out sing the ones standing next to them. The ending of the ditty was the signal to fire off the cannon in front of Masonic Hall Number One. Right on cue a match was put to the cannon’s fuse, and its thunderous blast echos through the trees.
Everyone cheers and the men throw their hats in to the air, Robert raises his hands again, “Folks, as most of you know this stone is for my great-great-great-grandfather and his two sons. As I lay thinking I was dying on the field of battle at Gettysburg, the events of that long ago day during the Revolutionary War in April 1781 flashed before my eyes.
“Some have said right before you die your life will flash before your eyes, well I can’t rightly mean I saw my whole life, from beginning to that very moment, but I did see Pappy, my forefather. Along with Pappy I saw my great uncles William and Isaac standing on this very bench underneath this same beautiful old oak. I tell you it was as plain as I see you now. I saw my father Thomas, just a small lad, run to his grandfather, climb up on this bench and they whispered to each other. I believe I heard what they said, but I cannot remember the words just now.
“The reason, I believe I saw that vision was at that time we as Americans were fighting the British to become a free and independent nation. Eventually, although Pappy John Scarburg and my tw
o great uncles would never see it, the budding thirteen colonies would blossom intoin to what would become the United States of America.
“I left home over three years ago to fight against that very flag that mine and your relatives fought and died to defend a long time ago. At the time I enlisted, we had reason to be displeased with those that ran the Government of these United States; and we decided to fight for what we believed was right, just like our Patriots of old did, they were successful, but we did not win our struggle. We had the guts and gumption, but not the manpower nor sufficient war material.
“Now the fight is over, my body and the scars on many of the bodies standing here today will attest to that fact, and we are once again the United States of America.
“We had our say, spilled our blood and left our dead on countless battlefields, now I stand before this monument which commemorates those earlier sacrifices and say to you, our War for Southern Independence is over. It will take time before it is over in our hearts and minds, but we must now work together to heal not only the South, but also the country as a whole. The United States of America is our country now, both North and South must work as one.
“If anyone could hate, it would be me. Nearly two years in a Yankee prisoner of war camp can make a man hate, but hate eats at your soul and destroys the spirit from within. The days ahead are going to be hard, for to the victor goes the spoils. Just remember we have seen bitter, almost unbearable times. The future ahead will be just as tough if not tougher, but everyone standing here today just remind yourselves of one thing – we are a tenacious lot, and we can survive what is to come. With hard work and determination, the future can be made better than the past four years. I thank you all for coming today – may God bless you one and all.”
THE BLACK FEATHER
Later that evening the whole family gathers together on the front porch of the carriage house. They are eager to hear of Robert’s experience in the War; however, before he will talk he is still troubled by the mail or absence thereof. Why he asks did their letters not get to him and moreover why did his not reach them? He reasons their letters might have gotten lost, delivered to the wrong place or simply just thrown away by some low-down, lazy mail clerk in the Army. But he emphasized that it seemed in three years he should have had at least one low-down, lazy, mail clerk that wouldn’t have all thrown all his mail away! And to add to the mystery, why did his letters never get delivered to his family?
Malinda sat listening to Robert criticize the mail service when she suddenly remembers, “Robert, in Alabama we had trouble with a half-breed name Louie Labeau. He was Captain of the Home Guard.” She explained the constant problem she had with him. “Robert we could not pay the land taxes. We had gotten two years behind and owed twenty-five dollars. That rascal Labeau told me he was going to own our farm and a month or so later when they posted the eviction notice I then owed fifty-two dollars and twenty-six cents. Labeau and his Carpetbagger county judge kept raising the amount. Labeau was determined to get our place in revenge for me keeping William and Isaac hid from him. All along he wanted them for conscription into the army, and I wouldn’t give them up. I believe if I could have raised the fifty-two dollars and twenty-six cents the judge would have raised the amount when I tried to pay.” She was careful to omit the part where Labeau attempted to clandestinely force his attention upon her.
“Do you suppose he had any influence on the mail service at Albertville?”
“Robert, I’ll tell you this much - Louie Labeau and his cohorts had control of everything in the county, including, I’m sure, the mail. Now that you mention it every time I went to the postal office the mail clerk took my letter and said he would make sure it got into the outgoing mailbag personally. But he always seemed embarrassed and would not look me in the eye.”
She further explained they tried to sell Blaze to Doctor Crawford, but they still could not raise the tax money. Finally, being desperate, she told Robert the only choice, they had, was for her to take the family and move back to Scarlett. She told about loading the two wagons with most of their belongings throwing all the children aboard and making sure Sary had the huge family Bible, and they headed east to South Carolina. She told how William and Lizzie fell overboard crossing the Tallulah River and how they camped for nearly a month beside the river hoping against hope that the two children would show up. She explained how sad was the remaining trip knowing William and Lizzie had drown, but how thrilled they were to find both waiting for them at Scarlett when they arrived. William held on to a limb and floated downstream until he got ashore, Lizzie held onto the wooden box, which carried Pappy John’s old family Bible until she reached William. Both caught a ride on a river barge to Scarlettsville.
“Wait a minute! Did you say Lizzie was holding onto Pappy’s old Bible in the river?”
“Yes, she desperately held onto the wooden box which contained the Bible.”
“You know today while I was talking at the dedication of the stone in front of the Mill I said while I thought I was dying in the Devil’s Den I had a vision. I saw Pappy, Matthew and Isaac being hanged back in April of 1781. Remember I also said my father climbed upon the bench and spoke with his grandfather? Wow, here is what is important: I told you I did not know what my father and Pappy said to each other; however, when you mentioned our big old family Bible it all came back to me, I now remember.
“In my vision, I heard what Pappy said to my father. Father said, “Yes, Pappy, I hear you, but I don’t understand, is it the big Bible?” Pappy Scarburg answers, “Yes, but don’t worry my son, just promise me you will never forget. Keep the black ostrich plume to remember me by, and someday you or some of your offspring will find its value will be incalculable.”
“Robert, that black ostrich plume was in the Bible. I gave it to Matthew the day you all went to enlist in the Army. Had it not been for that black feather Luke and I would never have found him working with Mark Holmes at Gettysburg.”
“The feather? How...? What...?” Robert was confused.
From a chair on the porch Kelly spoke, “That’s right. I met Malinda and Luke on the Emmitsburg Road, almost at the very spot where Matt was shot in the leg. Malinda was searching for any information about her son. I had seen hundreds of dead, dying or wounded soldiers those three awful days, and her son was but one of the thousands, but when Malinda mentioned the black ostrich plume I knew she was speaking of Matt. I had seen him and his feather on the day of Pickett’s Charge. I carried Malinda and Luke to see him and my Pa at the workshop.”
“Oh my, that is right. Thank you so much, my dear,” said Malinda. “Luke and I had just come from that dreadful place called Devil’s Den. We were looking for anyone or anything that might give us a clue to your fate. Robert, we did not know whether you had lived or died. All we found was the rock where Luke said he last saw you. I saw the blood stains on the rock and on the ground and the scratches you had made on the stone where you must have leaned against.”
“Scratches? Scratches Malinda, what do you mean? I remember no scratches. What did they look like?”
“I’m sorry Robert, but it was a while ago, and I can’t seem to recall exactly what was scribbled there.”
Luke spoke up, “I do Mother, I remember precisely what was written on the stone.”
“Speak son, tell me what was there,” said his father.
“Father it was a letter and some numbers. I remember they read:
2K168
“Father, what did that letter and those numbers mean?”
“Luke, I’m not quite sure, but in my vision, I heard my grandfather Pappy John give those numbers to Thomas my father, and I believe I might have an answer to this mystery. When I returned from the Indian Wars all that was left of Scarlett were the four fireplaces on either end of the burnt remains, the Greek porch columns and one other thing – Pappy’s big Bible. Malinda and Granny had saved it from the flames after the Indian attack.”
“Father, that day at Devil
’s Den you kept asking Matt and me to get you a Bible. Do you remember why you wanted a Bible?”
Staring off in to the distance without actually seeing Robert answers, “Yes Son, I think I do, now!”