Confederate Money. Paul Varnes
by the earlier shooting and hearing our paddles in the water as we approached, CSA soldiers were waiting for us as we beached the boat back on the mainland. After taking our guns, they led us to the colonel’s command post. Though recognized and spoke to by the colonel, Ray kept quiet and Henry did the talking. Henry told them what of the story he wanted them to hear.
The colonel said, “Why did you do it? What’s this all about?”
“Sir, it was a matter of honor,” Henry replied. “There were two ladies involved who I can’t mention.”
Revenge was a personal matter that would not be enhanced by the telling of it. Henry also didn’t want the real reason known by anyone who could identify us as associated with the raid. The real reason was weighted down on that Federal lieutenant’s chest, however. The sign said, “REVENGE FOR THE CEDAR KEY RAID OF OCTOBER 4, 1861.”
The whole thing so impressed the colonel that he ordered us released with our goods. He also asked us to go see General Bragg. After hearing the story, the general commended us in writing about our bravery and asked us to join his unit.
Henry declined, saying, “Sir, we have sick womenfolk in Blountstown. We must return immediately and see to their welfare.”
General Bragg wrote us a pass that was good for anywhere in Florida. He signed it himself. Being a very good writer, Henry then had an original signature to work from. Henry also asked for the colonel’s signature, saying he wanted folks to know they had met. It puffed the colonel up a little, and got Henry another signature.
As for Coon, he apologized for not being able to spy for the colonel as promised.
Arriving back at our camp that morning, we didn’t go to bed even though we had been up and active for most of the past twenty-four hours. The horses rested, we pulled stakes and rode north to clear Pensacola Bay before turning east toward home. Henry had taken a compass off the lieutenant and he used it as we rode. Using the compass and the pass, and traveling as straight a line as possible, we could make it to Coon’s house in six days of steady riding.
Though the general took the other Yankee weapons, he let Henry keep a .44 caliber Remington army revolver. Once fully loaded, it could be fired six times without reloading. Trying to find the way to wear the revolver so it could be brought on line easiest and quickest, Henry played around with it almost every day after that. I was carrying Doctor Isaac’s dueling pistol in my belt.
November 30, 1861
Loaded with newly purchased supplies, we arrived at Coon’s house at mid-afternoon. We also brought a bolt of blue cloth and a new bonnet for Ella Mae. The blueticks announced our arrival before they recognized Coon. After they recognized him I thought they would wag their tails off as they ran around his mule.
Ella Mae came sort of half running toward us, not saying a word. Just seeing her, my heart was beating all the way up in my throat. God knows I was taken with that woman.
She then got Henry and me by the hands and walked us to the horse pen as she chattered away. “You all have been gone for so long. What happened? I want to hear all about it. It’s really good to have you back. I was so worried I could have died. You need to stay here and don’t be running off.”
It was shortly before dark and we had finished supper when Henry stood and said, “I’m going to check the horses before going to bed.”
Ella Mae got to her feet and said, “You three clean up and wash the dishes. I’ll go close the chicken coop.”
Though wanting to go with them, I couldn’t very well after she said that. I dried while Mary washed the dishes. Mary soon distracted me a little from thinking about Ella Mae. At almost twelve, she had started to develop physically beyond her years. I got a good look when she reached around to scratch between her shoulder blades. When her loose flour sack dress got tight across the front, there was the evidence of her maturity holding her dress out in a couple of places.
Even after getting in my bedroll that night I thought about being left in the house. While fretting about it until I went to sleep, I also fantasized about both Ella Mae and Mary.
Henry and I stayed there for several days. Henry practiced every day with his revolver, not shooting it so much as just getting it out and level in different directions. The two of us also read the medical book daily. We had been through it twice and were starting a third time. Henry had copies of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. His mother had given him those. Using those books, he soon had Mary and Coon reading regular. Ella Mae seemed to have little interest in reading. Other than cooking and cleaning, caring for the horses, and gathering wood, none of us did any work except for Ella Mae and Mary. They worked at making their blue dresses.
Though I was quite content and wasn’t aware of it, Henry had become restless. In fact, I wasn’t aware at all until supper one night when he said, “It’s time we got on down to your ma’s house, Ben. I think we should be there before Christmas.”
Trying to think fast, I responded, “There’s no hurry. They’re fine. But I guess we should go.”
With all my fantasies, I didn’t know how to get out of going or what else to say.
Ella Mae saved me by saying, “We could all go. We could find a place to live around there somewhere. There’s nothing to do here and it’s awful lonely in these woods. It would be nice to live close to someone.”
The next morning we went to Blountstown. Arriving there at mid-morning, we found that CSA troops were still in charge of the Apalachicola River, except for the blockade at its mouth. If they ever lost control of that big river, the Yankees could have moved troops on it all the way into Georgia. Seeing a dray behind a store as we walked the town, Henry spoke to the owner about it.
“I assume you own the dray behind the store.”
“You assume right.”
“I’d be interested in buying it.”
“I’ll take five dollars.”
“Confederate paper.”
“Silver.”
“Three dollars silver.”
The owner laughed, “It’s worth five.”
“Maybe in paper, and when there’s a use for it,” Henry said. “Right now the Union has the mouth of the river blockaded and there’s not much to haul. You can sell it to me or take your chances later.”
The owner scratched his head and said, “I’ll take four in silver or gold.”
“Five in Confederate paper,” Henry said, counting out the money. “We’ll be back after we look around.”
In May of 1861 Confederate paper money was worth five percent less than silver. By October it was worth ten percent less, and by November it was worth fifteen percent less. When Henry bought the dray in December, a Confederate dollar was only worth eighty cents in coin.
Henry stopped a passing captain, showed him our papers from General Bragg, and said, “Sir, we’re thinking about going east to Lake City and were wondering about the railroad from Jacksonville. Do you know where it ends coming this way?”
The captain replied, “The tracks haven’t got west of Tallahassee. They go up to Quincy and down to St. Marks from Tallahassee. Going east, they go all the way to Jacksonville. In Baldwin, there are also connections to Fernandina and Cedar Key. It doesn’t look like Florida’s legislature will ever agree to connect Florida’s tracks to the Georgia or Alabama tracks.”
“Much obliged,” Henry said, and we moved on.
Returning for the dray, we hitched up the mule and started home. I then realized that Ella Mae and Mary would be riding on the dray in the future. I was the