Confederate Money. Paul Varnes
Ma would be put at ease, I said, “Ma, Coon helped with the things we had to do at Pensacola. This is his family. They’re traveling with us and will need to stay awhile.”
Ma let it go at that until after supper when Coon and I told the whole story. We didn’t tell about the three CSA soldiers in front of John and Ivy, my smaller brother and sister. Small children sometimes repeat things without thought. Ella Mae had already told Mary to be careful while talking about those kinds of things. Although Mary was only turning twelve the next day, somehow I almost didn’t look at her as a child anymore.
After I finished the story, Ma asked Ella Mae, “How’s your husband going to find you after the war?”
Ella Mae said, “I left a couple of notes, and told some folks in Blountstown where I would be. I also posted a letter from Tallahassee, though I don’t know if it’ll reach him.”
That satisfied Ma, but I was pretty sure Ella Mae hadn’t spoken to anyone in Blountstown other than to say howdy. I was certain she hadn’t posted a letter from Tallahassee. But knowing how the biscuit soaks up the syrup, I didn’t let on.
Everybody spent the next day getting settled in. Fortunately, we had brought a good stock of supplies. If we hadn’t we would have mostly been eating coon, fish, and greens. There hadn’t been much to eat at the house before we arrived, and there was a bunch of us. Thinking I could tell them something new, Lilly and Ma asked several times about Henry that day. It was almost like they wanted me to backtrack and look for him. I finally took Coon, Mary, John, and Ivy fishing to get away from them.
Ma cooked a big cake for Mary’s birthday, which was on December 22. There were no presents but Mary wore her new blue dress, which she hadn’t had cause to do yet. We all played some games and had a good time. It was while playing those games that I began to notice Ma and Ella Mae were quite different. Ma wasn’t any stick-in-the-mud when playing games. She was a real fun person, but she was a ma. Ella Mae was more like one of the kids. It wasn’t a pretense. She had been like that all the time. For whatever reason, I just hadn’t noticed it before. At that time I began having a little different feeling about things. I still fantasized about being alone with Ella Mae, however.
There was coffee on, and grits and eggs cooking, when I awoke the next morning. It’s an amazing thing how Ma can move around and cook without stirring anyone. All of us boys were sleeping on the floor in the room near the fireplace where the cooking was done. There were only two rooms and a loft. The women were sleeping in the other room. Mary, Lilly, and Ivy were in the loft. Since the temperature was thirty-five degrees that morning, it felt good to get up with the fire already going.
Ma soon got everyone up to eat. After we had finished eating, and while the girls were washing the dishes, I asked Ella Mae if she wanted to go with me to check the catfish hooks. It seemed like a lame idea as I asked it in front of Ma, but Ma didn’t appear to react in any way.
John said, “I’ll go,” and started getting his coat on.
Ella Mae said, “No. I think I’ll go when it’s warmer,” which any sane person would have said.
Because of the wind blowing pretty strong, and us getting our hands wet taking the fish off the hooks, John and I almost froze.
Henry came walking in just after we ate at noon that day. He was leading a big lineback dun gelding and our two mares. All three horses were loaded with bags. I was confused. Henry came in from the east, from the side of the house toward the river. He should have been coming from the west. Though the horses were wet, Henry and the bags were dry as an old bone. Going straight to the pole barn, he placed some of the bags in it and handed us the others.
Handing his reins to Coon, Henry said, “Would you and John put the horses up? I’m beat.”
He said to the rest of us, “Will you take these bags in the house? Those bags I’m leaving in the barn are not to be touched by anyone.”
By that time all of the women had gathered around and were taking their turn hugging Henry and carrying on in general about him being home safe. I was beginning to wish it were me who had stayed behind to watch the back trail.
No one asked about the bags he left in the barn. The ones he gave us to carry to the house were heavy with supplies.
Henry filled us in as he ate. He said he waited until a downpour of rain wiped out our trail. Then, riding northeast, he crossed the Suwannee River above Branford and went all the way to Fort White. After waiting there until certain of not being followed, he bought supplies and headed back west to the house. Henry never did anything halfway. Our trails had just vanished. We hadn’t been seen and couldn’t be tracked. The one thing he hadn’t said anything about was the thing I wanted most to hear about, the dun gelding. That dun was the best-looking horse I had ever seen. There had to be a good story about that horse.
My first question was, “How did you cross the river without you and the bags getting wet?”
He said, “I stripped and swam it. I then took your dugout back and brought everything across in it. After swimming back across, I brought the horses.”
It was still only fifty degrees outside and I shivered at the thought.
“What about the dun gelding?” I asked.
Looking at me, he said, “It seems that some CSA deserters are gathering in Taylor County. There are also some in Levy, and in a few other counties. The ones I met were in Taylor County. The dun horse wasn’t branded, and was a good one, so after we had settled our differences I picked him out and brought him home.”
Thinking it best that not everyone know, I didn’t ask any more questions at the time.
So as not to disturb the rest of us, and not to be disturbed, Henry took his bedroll to the barn in the middle of the afternoon to get some sleep. He slept all the way through the night.
The next day being Christmas Eve, the women cooked pies, cakes, greens, beans, bread, fish, venison, and a wild turkey. They cooked enough for two or three days. We boys tended the chores, cut wood, and hung around. Along in the early afternoon Lilly asked Henry if she could ride the dun. They rode for more than an hour.
At first dark Henry said, “Ella Mae, I want you and Ben to go out to the barn. Those bags I put in the back of it need some work, binding and such. It shouldn’t take very long. Don’t touch the ones under the hay. Everyone else can stay here with me and we’ll have coffee, talk, and make sure the kids don’t peek.”
Since it was Christmas Eve, everyone knew what we were going to do and what the bags contained. Arriving at the barn, however, I found a note on the first bag.
Ben,
The presents are already bound, and the names are attached. You should stay in the barn for a few minutes to make the kids fret a little. Merry Christmas!
Your friend,
Henry F.
Henry Fern was my man. Using the pretext of staying warm, I took advantage of the opportunity to sit close to Ella Mae while we waited the appropriate minutes.
There were presents for everyone in the bags. All the usual trappings were there for the women and kids. And there were oranges. Coon and I got something special. We each got a .36 caliber Remington six shot revolver, complete with holster, belt, and supplies. Remington made a .36 caliber revolver for the Federal Navy. Those Henry gave us were used, but were in prime condition. He said the revolvers came along extra with the dun gelding.
For a few days we lived the good life. Henry and I studied the medical book every day. Henry had everyone else reading something every day, too. He sure is big on reading. His Ma taught him that. Other than the fun things of life, we didn’t do much.
The New Year also came in while we were still at the place by the river. Although we were not going to shoot off any guns, everyone said they were going to stay up until the middle of the night to see it come in. Giving it