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[Concluding (finally!) chapter seven]
At the second gunshot, Patton ran back and grabbed the reins for his horse. Cleburne, he decided, was going to have to look after himself for a spell. Do I shoot him? Patton asked himself as he slid his rifle into its sling. If I have to. He mounted, feeling sick to his stomach. He was still in firm enough possession of himself, though, to be able to wonder whether this was a normal reaction to the conclusion of a battle, or whether it was revulsion at what Pickett and the handful of men who had run were now doing.
Then he realized: My first battle. I’ve just been in my first battle.
It didn’t feel as wonderful as he had always thought it would.
He spurred his horse to a gallop, and was at the base of the slope and among the bodies there before Pickett had a chance to shoot anyone else. When Patton came upon him, Pickett was down on one knee beside the corpse of a man who’d been dead when he hit the ground. Pickett was going through the man’s pockets, having already stuffed a new revolver into the waistband of his trousers. Patton dismounted and, gripping his revolver in its holster, advanced on Pickett.
“Stand away from there, sir,” Patton said. His voice trembled, and he was surprised at how angry he suddenly was. These men had been trying to kill him scant moments ago, and now he was furious at the outrage Pickett was visiting upon their bodies. Dead, they aren’t my enemies, he told himself. They deserve respect. “I said, stand away.”
Pickett got to his feet. He rose slowly, deliberately, and without looking at Patton. Only when he was fully erect did he turn. “Who the hell are you, boy,” he asked, “to be giving me orders?”
Is this an army, Patton asked himself, or isn’t it? There are some rules that are universal; even commanders have to follow them.
Mistaking Patton’s silence for something other than deliberation, Pickett turned back to face the body and dropped to his knee again. “Go back to your mother, boy,” he said.
Patton drew his Colt and cocked the hammer. “You are committing an atrocity, sir,” he said. He chose his words carefully, forced his voice to be as calm and steady as he could. “If you don’t move away, I will shoot you.”
Pickett shouted an obscenity so shocking that Patton at first didn’t think he’d heard it. It was a word he’d only heard once before, and the cadet who’d said it had been expelled from the Institute the same day. Then Pickett was on his feet again, hand on the grip of the stolen Colt. Pickett trembled with rage. “Don’t you ever pull a gun on me!” he shouted, his face flushed. “I’ll kill you if you do that again! I swear!”
Patton heard a rush of hoof-beats, but didn’t dare take his eye from Pickett. There’s more of them than there is of me, he thought. Then Colonel Walker’s voice broke the stalemate.
“What is this?” Walker demanded. “What are you men doing?”
“Captain Pickett is robbing the dead, sir,” Patton said, his eyes still locked to those of Pickett. “It’s my duty to inform you that he deserted his position when we came under attack, and now he’s robbing the dead. I also saw him shoot one man who was down and presumably wounded. I heard a second shot but couldn’t see who was shot. This behavior is an outrage to the rules of civilized warfare, sir.”
“Do you have any answer to these charges, Mister Pickett?” Walker’s voice was low—but not as angry as Patton had heard it. He was angrier with me because I spent a night with that actress, Patton thought.
“Hell,” said Pickett. “It ain’t as if they’re going to have any use for watches or Colts where they’re going. This is how we do things in Texas.” He made a rude gesture at Patton. “I thought that threatening your commander was a shooting offense anywhere, though.”
“Mr. Pickett.” Walker sighed, as though he were about to embark on a disciplinary lecture to a child who might be too young to understand. “You disappoint me, sir. Subject to my further review of the charges, you may consider yourself under arrest.” He drew his revolver. “It would be easier if you would simply drop your weapons to the ground now and proceed under escort back to the column.”
When Pickett simply stared at him, mouth open, Walker at last showed some anger. “Damn it, sir, did I not tell you a few days ago how it would be? At the moment you are charged with an offense which is not proved. Do as you are told, and you will have a chance to refute the charge. If you do not do as I say, you will be refusing a direct order from me. And that I will not tolerate. Drop your weapons, Mister Pickett, or as God is my witness I will shoot you down like a dog!”
Walker trembled in his saddle—it was, Patton noted with some alarm, an almost anticipatory trembling, as though a part of Walker wanted Pickett to resist, wanted to be unleashed to bring down some Old Testament, prophetic judgment. Evidently Pickett saw this too, for his shoulders slumped and he unhooked the belt into which his revolvers and knife had been thrust. Then he pulled the stolen weapons from his trouser waistband, and added them to the pile on the ground. “You ain’t heard the last of this, boy,” he said to Patton. Then, pausing to deliver a vicious kick to the corpse he’d been robbing, Pickett began walking up the slope to where his horse was tethered.
“That man has rendered valuable service to this expedition, Patton,” Walker said. “You had damned well better be sure of what you say.” His rage was apparently unquenched; why, thought Patton, is he turning on me?
“I am sure, sir. Any of the men who stood with me will vouch for me.” He still resents Nelson’s death, Patton decided. Change the subject, then; get him thinking forward, not back. “What of Captain Wheat, sir? We were attacked by only a part of the gang.”
“I’ve not heard from him yet,” Walker said. “Presumably he’s still pursuing the enemy.” He looked around at the dozen or so bodies scattered across the field. Some were visible as little more than indentations in the tall, sweet-smelling grass. “You did this work, did you?”
“Yes, sir. I dismounted those of us who stayed, thinking that we’d shoot better on foot. We held the top of that slope, and the enemy never closed inside of a hundred yards.” He pointed back to where the men stood, nervously clustered and watching as Pickett made his way toward them. “Most of the men performed well, Colonel. Only three or four ran with Pickett. I’ll be able to point them out to you if you wish.”
“That won’t be necessary, Patton. When I demote Pickett, they’ll all learn the appropriate lesson.”
“A demotion? Surely he deserves worse.”
“Mister Patton, this is not the Army of Virginia. We are a small expedition, charged with a very big task. As I said, Mister Pickett has performed well. He is also something of a leader for the Texans in the expedition. I can’t afford to throw him away because he chooses to continue a pointless feud in addition to serving this greater cause.” Walker didn’t wait for Patton to reply, but turned his horse and followed the road back in the direction of the still-moving column.
For a moment after Walker had gone, Patton stood, looking down at the body Pickett had tried to rob. Flies had already settled on it; one of the man’s eyes now seemed to move, looking at Patton, such was the mirage created by the movement of a bluebottle across the dulled orb. Patton felt a jet of bile hit the back of his throat and turned away, spitting the bitter taste from his mouth. You did this work, he thought to himself. He ought to be proud, or at least satisfied; he had done a soldier’s job, and done it well. His commander seemed to be pleased. His triumph, small as it was, nevertheless felt empty. Why don’t I feel the way Stewart says he did at Harper’s Ferry? he asked himself.
Then he remembered that Cleburne was wounded, and that there were more important things to do than to stare at the dead and be miserable for no accountable reason. Because it was not in his nature to waste, he stooped and picked up Pickett’s belt and the weapons he’d dropped with it. Then he mounted his horse and rode up the slope to see how Cleburne was faring.
Next Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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