The Deception

      The Deception

Suzanne Marsh

GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA JULY 3, 1863

“Come on Jed, we gotta sneak away now, them generals are gonna get us kilt.” Martin O’Hara pleaded with his brother, they were part of Pickett’s Brigade. They knew the objective was a clump of trees where all units were to converge. The march was at least one mile of open terrain; Martin had no intention of dying for a lost cause, it was time to leave. He waited while Jed took a quick look at himself:

“Martin, I am staying if I die give this to Mary and tell her I love her.” Martin held in his large hand a small locket that Jed wore around his neck; a miniature of Mary the girl he planned to marry upon his return from the Second Rebellion.

Martin hid in some brush, it was cool here even though the heat was sweltering. He lay silently as he heard the bugle sound assembly, the fatal charge beginning. He slipped away, finding his way to the Chambersburg Pike. He spied a horse grazing in a small pasture, he rode bareback until he was confident that he was as far away from the horrors of Gettysburg as he could be the first night out. He rode north toward Harrisburg then toward Buffalo, New York hoping to hide there until the war ended. His plans for the future were to return to Laredo, and buy a large ranch.

BUFFALO, NEW YORK 1864

Martin rode on toward Buffalo, New York, he had no idea where he was going to find safety but had no intention of returning to the fight for the Confederacy or the Union. He had done his bit, now he just wanted to live quietly. He found the main street where he knew he could find a way to make money. There was a sign looking for someone to cover the war stories, he reasoned he had been there in the thick of the fighting ergo he was familiar with both sides. He strode into the Morning Express, spoke with the editor, and was hired. He casually explained that he was indeed from the south but he did not want to fight any longer, he had seen too many men die from mine balls, canon fire, bayonets, no he was done fighting. The editor asked him if he would follow the Confederate Army until the end, sending stories about the battles. He stood there in the blue uniform he had taken from a dead soldier in Harrisburg. Buffalo, was a good choice, if the Confederate Army made it this far, he could always cross the border into Canada; he knew that would not happen, he had heard that Lee was defeated and returned to Virginia to lick his wounds. Private Martin Rhodes received his credentials to cover the war, as Martin Rodford. The first four stories he sent to the Morning Express impressed the editor, they were very concise; and almost made him feel as if he were there, that was the sign of a good journalist. Martin, followed the Army of Northern Virginia for two long years, several times he tried to find Jed, praying he was still alive.

9 April 1865

Martin O’Hara stood transfixed as he watched General Robert E. Lee surrender to General Ulysses Simpson Grant. He had been a guest of General William Sherman; he had witnessed an event that had turned his entire world upside down. He was not sure he wanted to give up the life of a journalist in favor of a rancher. He sat down on the front porch of the McLean home, paper and pencil on a small pad:

Lee surrenders to Grant

Today, 9^th April 1865 General Robert E. Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia to

General Ulysses S. Grant here at Appomattox Court House in the home of Wilmer McLean.

Shouts of joy rang out along with whoops and gunfire, the Union Army jubilant. The war

is over for the Confederacy, Lee could be seen punching one gauntlet hand into the other,

and so was his frustration. Lee mounted his favorite horse Traveler, and rode off into the sunset as

General Grant stood on the front porch, relief etched on his face; no longer will brother fight

against brother, father against son.

General Grant was very magnanimous in terms of the surrender, even allowing the mounted

Confederate soldiers to keep their mounts. A formal surrender is scheduled for 12 April 1865.

Martin set that off to the Editor of the Morning Express. He felt as if a heavy weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He had managed to save enough money to return to Texas, to Laredo where he planned to buy a ranch. He began to think about finding a girl, getting married, and raising a family. Those things he dared not even consider but now that the war was almost over; he thought about General Joseph Johnston who had not surrendered as of yet and one last Texas outpost near the King Ranch. Martin knew that by the time he arrived back in Laredo, every soldier would be on his way home, he would just be another man returning home.

July, 1865

Covered with cinders from the train Martin O’Hara disembarked from the train in San Antonio, Texas. He strode toward the Menger Hotel, saddle bags slung over his shoulder. He was almost home, he was still in need of a horse, the livery stable was just down the dusty street from the Menger. Two, maybe three days ride and he would be home in Laredo.

Dawn came early as Martin made his way toward the livery stable, there he noted a handsome sorrel horse, he would be fine. Martin made the necessary purchases of a blanket, saddle, bit, and reins. He turned the sorrel due south; a nice slow trot the further south he went the more thoughts of home he had. His pa chopping wood, his ma cooking supper over an open hearth. He thought again about his brother Jed, hoping he had survived and was on his way home. Three days later he arrived at the small dogtrot cabin, but where were Pa and Ma? He knocked on the cabin door, but there was no answer, now he became worried, so he went to the back of the cabin, and noted the two wooden crosses side by side. This was the family homestead he was staying in. He knew he could make a go of it.

Soon, neighbors began to arrive; John Graves finally told him his pa and ma came down with fever and died earlier that year. Martin thanked him for keeping an eye on the cabin until his return. John asked Martin about the war. Martin gulped:

“I was a major we surrendered with Lee at Appomattox; it took me from April to July to come

home. I don’t think I will do any more roamin', I am home where I belong.” Later that day John’s daughter Nelly brought over some home-cooked fried chicken; Martin was shocked at how beautiful a young woman she had become. He thought about how when he left she had been a knock-kneed kid, he had been gone almost five years. He courted her married her, and the children came quickly after their marriage.

Laredo had a hero in Martin O’Hara or so the thought, he had been a major in the Confederate army, and he had surrendered his sword like all the officers had. Life was good for Martin O’Hara until nothing short of a miracle appeared one morning at the cabin. A gaunt man with a dirty grimy shirt arrived; Martin saw him first, grabbed his scattergun and went out the front door, while Nelly kept the children busy. Times were lean, they did not need beggars eating food their children required to live.

The man stood stock still:

“Howdy, is this the O’Hara place?” The voice, although shaky sounded vaguely familiar. ‘No, can’t be’ thought Martin. ‘It’s been ten years since the war ended, it simply can’t be.’ The gaunt stranger inched closer to Martin, the eyes the same blue as Martin’s:

“Martin, don’t you recognize me? I’m your brother Jed.” He stood there dumbfounded, how could this be his brother? No one had heard from him, he had not seen him since that fateful day at Gettysburg. Martin had built himself a good reputation as a rancher, a mild manner major. He had no idea what to do. Granted he had deceived everyone with a lie, he just could not disgrace the O'Hara name, and he would be labeled a deserter.

Martin clasped his brother’s shoulder:

“Where have you been these last ten years Jed? We thought you were dead. My God man you

are so thin. Come on in the cabin, Nelly and the children are in there. Nelly was just starting

breakfast.”

They entered the cabin, and Martin introduced Jed to Nelly, then the children. Four year old

Jed climbed up onto Jed’s lap, smiling up at him through the blue eyes that all the O’Hara’s had. Nelly prepared a breakfast feast of Johnny cakes, cornbread, eggs, bacon, and toast. Jed took a sip of coffee, real coffee no more hickory.

Once breakfast was over the two men went back out toward the barn, Martin turned to face Jed:

“Jed, what happened after I snuck away?” Jed took a long deep breath:

“I became a prisoner of the Yankee I was sent to Elmira where I spent two long horrible years.

I almost died but Captain Dan Tucker took care of me, both of us survived Elmira. We stuck

together and prospected out in California and Colorado. We did okay, but then he became sick,

and died this past year. I decided then it was time to come home. What happened to you?” Martin had to choose his words carefully:

“I escaped north to Buffalo, New York where I worked for a newspaper the Morning Express. I

returned here in July of 1865. I saved some money, and I purchased several hundred acres

adjoining Pa’s spread. Are you planning on staying for a spell?”

Jed had no idea what he wanted to do, like so many soldiers returning home. Martin hoped he would be leaving, his life was good; he did not want his brother around for fear he would say something about his being a deserter; ruining his image as a gentleman rancher. He began to think of ways to deceive his brother; he would get rid of him one way or another.

Martin allowed Jed to stay for a month; deciding he would have to leave after that. Jed went into Laredo one afternoon, only to run into John Graves. Jed asked him about Martin and the ranch:

“Well sir, Martin has done well for himself and my Nelly. He purchased all that land, the

ranch is larger than any other around here. His cattle are good sturdy longhorns, and the horses

are good stock. Martin; told me in confidence that he had been a major and surrendered

at Appomattox, why do you ask Jed?”

Jed was angry, he had almost died in Elmira, and he had lost his prospecting partner:

“Martin wasn’t any major, he was a private, he dun deserted at Gettysburg. He went

north, hidden in Buffalo, New York. He wrote for some northern newspaper.” John, was stunned, all these years Martin had deceived everyone, his life had been a lie. Now he would suffer the consequences, Jed stopped him:

“John, Martin had reasons for what he did, he left I stayed. Pickett’s Charge cost me two years

of my life in Elmira. Don’t go tarnishing Martin, he ain’t no coward, I wish now I had gone

with him.”

Jed turned on his boot heel and strode down the streets of Laredo, his own man.