Family Pride

Family Pride

“Mr. President, here is your speech for today's monumental presentation in the Rose Garden. Is

is there anything else sir?”

Corporal Matthew Wentworth, paused, before entering the canvas tent of General Joseph (Fightin Joe) Hooker. The question upper most in his mind was why was he being summoned to the headquarters of the General. General Hooker stood up, motioned the Corporal inside. Matt noticed a portly full bearded man standing in the tent. Matt, entered, saluted the General. He waited, finally the General began:

“at ease Corporal. I understand you are from North Carolina. The gentleman, standing

next to me is Mr. Allan Pinkerton. I will leave the two of you to talk.”

General Joseph Hooker stepped out of the white canvas tent into the sunlight. Alan Pinkerton motioned for Matt Wentworth to sit, while he took the general's chair. Pinkerton spoke with a Scots accent:

“Corporal, I need to be knowing information about Lee's plans for the next attack.”

“Sir, I am fightin for the Union, my brothers are in the Reb Army. My pa told me

if I ever returned home he would shoot me on sight.”

“Corporal, I have a plan but I need your help. I need you to become a spy, if you are caught

you will be tried for treason and no doubt hung or shot. We have to know where Lee and

and Jackson are going to attack next. This is the best way you can help us son.

“Well, I'll tell you plain sir, I will try to get whatever information I can.”

“Good, son, what I want you do to is join the 18^th North Carolina. We will supply you with

contacts that are sympathetic to the union. We want you to go home, tell your family

you changed your mind and want to fight for the Confederacy.”

“Yes, sir Mister Pinkerton, I think I can do this. I am going to have to doff my uniform, I'll

never get through their lines otherwise”

“Son, all of that has already been arranged, there is one thing. If you get caught and tried

in the south, there is nothing we can do to help you.”

“Well, sir, I will take my chances.”

Later that afternoon, Matt rode out of camp on his large black stallion heading toward Albemarle, North Carolina and home. He just hoped Pa wouldn't shoot him on sight. It would take him at least a week of straight riding to make it home. He wondered how Ma was, she was heart broken when he chose to fight with the union. His brothers; Mark Luke and John he wondered if they were even alive. He thought about what he was about to do, lying to his pa and ma, lying did not come easy to him, but if he wanted to survive, that was exactly what he would have to do. He could keep his own identity and reenlist in the 18^th. The night before he arrived in Albemarle he slept fitfully. He had a nightmare, with ropes dangling down and soldiers marching toward a cliff.

The following morning, he arose, had a cup of coffee and some hardtack, then proceeded to his ma and pa's farm. His ma spotted his black stallion as he came over the pine ridge. She ran toward him, her pale, wane face; alight with the joy of seeing her son. He stopped the big black a few feet before she reached him.

“Son, oh dear God! What are you doin here, your pa meant xactly what he said, he will shoot

you on sight. You can't stay here.”

Just as she got the last word, several shots rang out. He pulled out his white shirt waving in surrender, and praying that pa would accept his story.

“Boy, you got more nerve than you got brain! You jist turn Blackie around and leave afor

I shoot you.”

Matt halted the big black, yelled back:

“Pa, I come home ta enlist in the 18^th North Carolina, I heard that they is lookin fer recruits.”

Pa, stepped off the front porch; motioning him to come in. He drew ma up behind him trotting in. Pa, opened the cabin door, his shot gun still loaded and cocked:

“now you tellin me boy, you wanna fight fer our side. Why?”

“Pa, the union ain't gonna win this war no how. Their generals is afeared to fight.”

Pa, smiled then:

“okay son, I believe you, your brother John is down near the barn. He come home from a few

months back. Ya might want to talk to him fer a bit.”

Matt thought that was rather a strange thing for his Pa to say. We walked down the trodden path to the barn. He took Blackie's halter leading him toward the barn. He could hear John moving around the barn. He and Blackie entered:

“John” Matt said in almost a whisper:

“What happened?”

“Some dang Yankee used me fer target practice. What brings you here? I thought you

was fightin fer the North.”

Matt, took a deep breath as he began to weave his story:

“Them Yanks ain't gonna with this war no how, their generals is afeared of their shadows.

The ranks break every time we go into battle, hell, I ain't gonna fight with an army that

ain't gonna win.”

John nodded as he continued:

“I lost my arm at Fredericksburg. I was one a the lucky ones. The Yanks ran jist like you said.”

Matt, knew that his story was going to work.

“Hey John, you hear anythin from Mark and Luke?”

“Yeah, we was altogether in the 18^th North Carolina. Mark, and Luke are with “Stonewall”

Jackson, somewhere in Virginny. Last I knew they was still doin fine.”

The brothers walked back to the cabin, home, it felt good to be here. Later that evening Matt announced his plan to join to 18^th the following morning. John told him, they were in moving toward the Army of the Potomac and to look around the area of some place called Chancellorsville up in

Virginny.

Matt, left the next morning wearing his own clothes, he knew the Rebs were short of uniforms. They pillaged the body of dead Union soldiers for anything useful. Usually boots and pants sometimes heavy winter coats. Boots were apparently a huge problem for the southern soldiers, as he was about to discover. He rode into camp near Fredericksburg three weeks later. He inquired about Mark or Luke Wentworth; stating they were his brothers. The sentry motioned him through. He hastily looked around:

“Matt, hey Matt, watcha doin here, thought you was fightin for the Yanks up north.”

Matt, dismounted:

“Yeah, I was but I ain't no more, they be loosing, they got chicken generals.”

Mark, smirked:

“So, how's pa and ma?'

“They be fine now.”

“Where's Luke?”

“John told me about his arm.”

“Luke is over yonder under that big ole tree. Matt, he ain't right.”

“What da ya mean he ain't right?”

“He ain't right in the head; the doc says he should go home fer a spell. You'll see when I talk

to him, he just jabbers like that old crow of ma's.”

That was not what Matt wanted to hear. Together the brothers walked over to the big oak tree:

“Hey Luke, looky whose here. It's Matt. He come to join us, he's done fightin fer those

dumb yanks.”

Luke stared as if he no idea who Matt was or Mark. Then they heard a sound come out of him, it was

a scream of terror. Matt spun around to find a rattlesnake about to strike Luke. In one fluid motion, Matt shot the snake. He pulled Luke up to his full height. The war had been unkind to Luke.

April 30^th, 1863 cannons began to roar as the companies formed in brigades. Soldiers, were readying their muskets and bayonets. Cartridges boxes were loaded and ready. Matt, knew they would be moving soon. He would soon find himself facing his friends in a duel to the death. The smoke and powder odor formed in his nose. It was a smell he would never forget. The battle began in earnest when General Thomas “Stonewall' Jackson began a pincher type movement around the union troops to stop them from forming around Lee's troops. General Joseph (Fightin Joe) backed down.

May 4^th, 1863 General “Stonewall” Jackson was scouting ahead of his lines when a lone mini ball struck his arm and hand. Then more firing began. His aides rushed to his side. They carried him out of the woods on a stretcher. General Ambrose P. Hill began screaming:

“you have shot General Jackson, my God what have you done?”

Word began to spread, that General Jackson would lose his arm but survive. Then word came that on May 10^th, 1863 General Thomas J. (“Stonewall) Jackson was dead. There was an investigation, Matt was arrested, tried and convicted. He was hung by the neck until dead on May 15^th, 1863.”

The president of the United States began:

“Today, one hundred and fifty eight years later, it is with a thankful nation that I honor Corporal

Matthew Wentworth a true hero and winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor. It is my

honor and duty to do so. This was hidden in the archives marked top secret by Secretary of

War Edwin M. Stanton. Corporal Matthew Wentworth did not betray the Union, he

betrayed the south, the enemy if you will. He was hung in the south for treason at the

age of seventeen. He gave the last full measure, to save this country, had he not

done so, not shot General “Stonewall” Jackson, the war might have continued for at

least several more long years.

It is with pride that I present the Congressional Medal of Honor to Corporal Matthew

` Wentworth. Since the Corporal has been dead one hundred and fifty eight years today,

I invited the entire Wentworth family. Receiving this great honor is Captain Matthew

Wentworth, United States Army and a direct decedent of Mark Wentworth.”

The President nodded to Matt. He stood tall as he walked over to the President of the United States, to receive the Medal of Honor on behalf of his namesake. The secret the family had kept all these years, had finally surfaced and now justice for Corporal Matthew Wentworth was done.