The Gunpowder Gals

At first the widow kept on staring at the page, apparently taking in every detail. Then her shoulders heaved as if in distress at the sight. Amanda got ready to rush forward and support the old woman should she collapse. A strange sound came from the frail body -- like the sound of a barn owl hunting. The widow was hooting with laughter! When she finally turned away from the book her hand was up to her eyes, dabbing away tears of mirth.

"Oh dear, Amanda, that's sure some pumpkins. I've been of steady habits all my creation and maybe I missed out on some real interesting experiences because of it. Well, I guess I'd better go and take all the other un's that are too long in retiracy for these sort of games. But don't you go giving that book back to those Georgia boys -- it's too good for those goober grabbers. Come on Violet, come on Mabel, come on Keziah, come on Lydia. Let's go back to our homes and pray for these ladies' good works tonight."

The widow began hustling out the other old ladies in the school room like a flock of geese. All of them very respectable, all part of the backbone of the village congregation, and all looking mournfully over their shoulders as the widow drove them away from the open book. Seeing the righteous being led forcefully away from temptation was a cause of satisfaction to many in the audience, especially the more unrighteous of the village women who were finding a refreshing change in sinning suddenly becoming a civic virtue.

Amanda let out a deep breath and took out the stone bottle she'd put inside the basket. "OK, ladies, I guess you can step up in your own time and take a look, so you know what's a-coming. Anyone of you who feels she might need fortifying first is welcome to take a taste of anti-fogmatic."

It was an offer which received plenty of takers. In fact there was quite a hint of discreet pushing and shoving for a taste of the liquor, but nowhere as steady a demand as there was to take a look at the book. In fact within seconds it was picked up and being passed around from hand to hand, from one cluster of examiners to another knot of lowered heads and gasped exclamations: "Lord a'mercy! I never seen the like in all creation!"

"Would never have believed to see such carrying-on all on one stick!"

"Those sure are European ways, I guess!"

And mixed in with the expressions of surprise and the rapidly draining applejack were giggles, lots of straight out laughter, and long married woman nudging each other in the ribs as if they were young wenches flirting with the boys at a hoe-down. It was two of these red cheeked women whom finally approached the school teacher.

"Come on, Amanda, tell us what you've got planned for tonight. How's it going to start off?"

A sudden silence fell over the crowded room, the question spoken loud enough to be heard and clearly falling on interested ears. Amanda felt herself blushing as she became the center of attention again.

"That's right," Euphemia urged. "Give us the whole story, Amanda."

Instinctively the teacher moved behind her desk before she began speaking. And for the second time that day she heard unexpected hoof beats approaching the school house. Meaningful looks were exchanged between the assembled females; the only people who could be riding in Stony Creek today were Johnny Rebs. Euphemia looked through a window.

"It's the Sergeant. And four other Rebs."

Amanda joined her: yes, Sergeant Wade, with four other Rebs as an escort. What was happening?

The soldiers dismounted, secured their bridles, then knocked on the door even as Amanda was opening it. Sergeant Wade smiled at her, the other men hanging back, all four of them trying to look through the school house windows without being too obvious in their curiosity. Surprised as she was herself about this unexpected meeting, Amanda knew the important thing to do was to somehow keep the negotiations going.

"Come in Sergeant, gentlemen, come in, please."

It seemed strange to be talking as if this was a social occasion for coffee and cakes. And only the Sergeant accepted the invitation to enter the classroom, smiling widely around him as the women of Stony Creek displayed unconcealed interest in this representative of their anticipated ravishers.

"Thank you, Miss Shilling. I'm sorry the Lieutenant hasn't come but he seems to be having a real good sleep. Guess something must have tired him out."

Amanda wondered whether Wade knew about her coming assignation with Reuben. Was he planning to do something his officer wouldn't have allowed if he was awake? The NCO's boyish face suddenly looker older as he leered knowingly at Amanda. His eyes passed around the nearest women to him and quickly returned to Helen Smith, a tall rangy brunette beauty standing nearby, a woman married to a long absent Confederate soldier. Amanda wondered if Wade somehow knew of Helen's weakness for spending time in company with any handsome male strangers visiting Stony Creek -- or was the Sergeant one of those lucky men who could spot a sporting filly with the unerring eye of a Gypsy horse coper?

"The men asked me to come and speak to you, Ma'am. As their man of business, you might say. In fact, we have a message for all the ladies. You see, we found a whole heap of general cargo on that side-wheeler we could unload now, rather than leave it to be burnt tomorrow. The ladies who are agreeable to coming along to the wing-ding tonight could visit the boat during the day, say hello and take their pick, and I guess my boys would be happy to give them a hand to carry the fixings back home. Got the manifest here if you'd like me to read it out. Would sure be a pity to waste all this good stuff, Ma'am, so shall I read out the list of what's on offer?"

Amanda hesitated only for a second: "Well, ladies, you've heard what the Sergeant has said. Would all of you who like him to continue speaking please raise your hands."

The soldier watched in satisfaction as the hands came up. Some quickly, others slowly, but in the end all of them. "Motion seems to be carried almost unanimously. What about you, Miss Shilling?"

Amanda looked into his hard blue eyes and put her right hand up in the air. The Sergeant grinned, turned again momentarily from a dominating warrior into a naughty school boy. "That's your style, school teacher," he said approvingly.

For a second Amanda opened her mouth to reprove his familiarity, then realized the silliness of any such action. She thought it odd that the young sergeant should seem so much at ease in such a situation. He was evidently toughened from hard service and full of confidence, as evident from his ready tongue. Still, the NCO looked so young, especially with being beardless, such an unusual thing for any American male past boyhood.

The Sergeant took a piece of paper from his pocket.

"OK, ladies, this is for you if'n you want it. We got salt, spices, sugar, molasses, raisins, fruits, vegetables, cheese, eggs, butter, salted meats and fish, tea, coffee, and chocolate. We've beer and vinegar and bushels of dried peas. Plenty of pickles and crackers, and a whole slew of canned beans in tomato sauce. We've even got a barrel of Monongahela whiskey for those of you with refined tastes."

He winked at Helen Smith again, setting her to putting her hand to her mouth as she tried to control a burst of laughter. Helen's eyes flickered sideways as she looked slantindicular at the opened book. The sergeant saw the direction of her glance and moved over to the desk. He studied the pages for a moment or two, then whistled in surprise before turning around to face his embarrassed audience.

"Ladies, you can string me up for gander pulling if ever I saw the like. And to think that all you good women would be studying something as inspirational as this. Well, I do thank you kindly for your thoughts because me and the boys sure are in genuine need of some female company. Just you watch and see."

He picked up the book, walked over to a window and tapped on it. A full beard topped by a sharp nose and beady eyes appeared behind the glass. Wade held up the opened book, showing the illustration to the soldier. "Hey, Jubel, you want to see what they teach in Northern school houses?"

The beady eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and an opening appeared in the black depths of the beard as the man's jaw dropped. In a second all four of the soldiers had their faces pressed against the glass in a parody of children peering in at a candy store. The Sergeant laughed and opened the window, handing the volume through it.

"There you go, lads, never say the Army neglects your schooling. And if you get any ideas about improving your education here and now, why I guess you'll never get a better chance."

The NCO strutted back into the middle of the room and clapped his hands together in a movement of spontaneous joy before starting off on some more of his peddler hustling.

"OK, especially for you good looking gals, we've got all sorts of notions. Fashionable calicoes, French work collars and capes, elegant milk pans and Harrison skimmers. Patent pills to cure anything that ails you. Shaker yarbs, essences, wintergreen and lobely. Tapes, needles, hooks and eyes, broaches and bracelets, smelling bottles and castor oil. Corn-plasters, mustard, gardening seeds, silver spoons, teapots and green tea to put in them. Song-books and tracts, thimbles and baby whistles, playing cards, pudding sticks and baskets and wooden bowls. There's powder and shot as well but I guess we need that more than you do. There's also a crate of female preventatives which we sure don't have any use for but you're all welcome to dip into -- if you're willing to step up and say you want them."

The village woman were looking stunned, then cautiously pleased. What with widow Dawson's offer and now this unexpected bonus the wages of sin were starting to come along nicely. Not that most of them would ever have dreamt normally of stealing as much as a handkerchief, but if it was all going to be burnt if they didn't take it -- well, wastefulness was a wicked thing too, everybody knew that. Meantime some other brand of wickedness was brewing out on the verandah right now, to judge by the bellows of coarse laughter coming from outside the school house. The soldiers were finding the German volume every bit as interesting as the Sergeant had predicted. Nor was any woman in the school house surprised when the door opened and a thick set corporal walked in. His craggy face was flushed red with excitement, the tips of his straggly brown mustache quivering.

"Permission requested to speak to you outside, Sergeant."

Wade smiled: "Why, what's on your mind, Patrick?"

"Sure, Sergeant, and aren't we fighting the devil himself outside and all his works, and every man jack of us losing hand over fist to his temptations? Sergeant, will you not come outside and organize a prayer meeting so we can decide what's to be done for our salvation's sake?"

Wade's lips quivered in amusement: "Well, I guess this might be a right opportune time to thank the Lord for all his gifts. Excuse us for a moment, ladies."

The two NCO's left the room. As soon as they were gone a buzz of excited conversation ran around the school house.

Euphemia leaned over to whisper to Amanda: "I'm sure that soaplock of a Sergeant is planning on some devilment, my dear. I could see it in his eyes. I guess you know what I mean?"

Helen was also listening, her cheeks flushed and well filled out bosom heaving: "Oh, there's going to be some larks, you can lay to that. I feel all-overish, and then some. Can I take another drink, Amanda?"

"Not until I've had one."

Amanda picked up the jug and took a swallow from it that set her throat burning. As she was passing it to Helen she heard a round of raucous laughter from the verandah, then sudden overriding bursts of conversation as if all the men were trying to talk at once, each trying to get the others to listen to his ideas

"Land's sakes! Somebody's going to catch it, you mark my words," Helen prophesied darkly.

The door opened and Sergeant Wade sauntered back in. Behind him came the other four Rebs, all looking around them like foxes that had found an unguarded chicken run and didn't know where to start feeding. Wade smiled as happily as a railroad speculator at a depot opening.

"Well, ladies, we've decided on a text for today: 'Whom the Lord loves, he chastises'. So first of all we'll do some chastising, and then some loving."

"You two ladies, come here."

Wade pointed at Yvonne Folland, a skinny long nosed woman married to the local cooper, then at Gwenneth McAlistair, a rather pretty little dark eyed lass whose husband was in the Union army. They both looked around as if unable to believe that their fate was to be the first.

"Relax ladies. All I want you to do is to take down that flag on the wall and hold it up directly behind the teacher's desk. One of you at each end and stretch it out."

The graybacks had begun searching through the school cupboards for some reason. One of them gave a cry of satisfaction and held up his discovery: the birch, the bundle of twigs used to discipline naughty children. The Sergeant took it and beckoned to Euphemia.

"Right. Ma'am, you can be my standard bearer. The master at arms. You carry this and follow me wherever I go, and when I tell you to use it, you lay on with a will -- or else."

The Sergeant had stopped smiling. He watched as Yvonne and Gwenneth held up the flag for his inspection. "That's the ticket, girls. Keep the bottom of the flag about level with the desk top. Now, Amanda, you go and stand behind the desk and look towards your friends over the top of your flag."

The teacher did as she was bid. She wondered what it was exactly that Wade was planning to do. Her cheeks began to burn as some of the possibilities occurred to her.

"Surely did like the look of you this morning, school ma'am, with that flag around you. But I guess it would have looked even better if that was all you'd been wearing. Seems to me though that's a big enough flag for another lady to be company with you in hiding her modesty behind it. Yes sirree, what we want is another right charmer."

His eyes swung around the room, from woman to woman, a half smile on his lips. Until they finally reached Helen Smith: "And what might your name be, Ma'am?"

Helen told him.

"Helen, hey? You know something Helen, I think Miss Shilling might be a genuine cold back but you're a married lady. So I think you might be just the one to go and stand behind the flag with the teacher. She won't be so nervous if she's harnessed up with a mare that's already been well broken in."

Helen gasped at his directness, putting her fingers to her lips and blushing as she'd just made a involuntary rude sound in church. The Sergeant pointed to the birch and then the flag. "Would you like to hold your hands out to be smacked, Ma'am, or would you rather do as you're told?"

"I . . . I," Helen looked around her, at the audience, then at the twigs and at Euphemia. "Oh Lord. If Henry was ever to find out . . ."

"It's alright, Helen," the midwife reassured her. "Nobody is going to tell on you. And you wouldn't want Henry coming back and finding his home all blowed away, would you? We womenfolk have got to stick together on this, just like Amanda says; one for all, and all for one."

Helen nodded to show her understanding and walked over to the table, joining Amanda so they were elbow to elbow behind the flag. Sergeant Wade laughed and smacked his opened palms together as if starting to applaud a show.

"OK, ladies. Now I need another volunteer. The one who squeals most gets the job."

He walked along the row of females. The first he selected was Madeline Masefield, married to the town soapmaker. She was built on generous lines, with wide hips and a more than ample chest, and she didn't squeal she certainly gave several loud gasps as the Sergeant grabbed both of her bosoms and fondled them thoroughly. Her hands came up to fend him off, only to be caught and restrained by the women alongside her.

"It's alright, Madeline, it'll be the same for all of us, by and by," one of them said. Madeline blushed like a babe in a bath tub, closed her eyes and stood still as the Sergeant continued taking his liberties with her.

"OK, you'll do Ma'am. Go over there and start taking off Helen's clothes. Bring them back here piece by piece. The boys will reward you for each trip, the same way as I just have. Off you go." He pushed Madeline in the back and sent her tottering towards the table.

"Now, have we got another outstanding pair of titties in the room? Yes, the lady in the back in the blue bonnet. Step forward and let's take a look at you."

It was Gertrude Rohrer he'd selected, taller than himself, her homely blushing face framed with blonde plaits, her eyes cast down towards the bulges in the front of her dress which had been the reason for her choice for public shame. Then she peeked up again and blanched as she saw the hands held up ready for her. She must have been thinking about many things, especially about her husband, away down river on a scow. But the other village women around her plucked at her sleeves as others behind pushed her forward.

"Go to it, Gertie. Madeline stood it."

"That's right, Gertie, you won't let us down, will you?"

Gertrude set her jaw and took the last two steps which delivered her into Wade's grasp. She went even redder than before and gave out a low moan of outrage as he took his time in squeezing through the layers of fabric covering her breasts. She lowered her eyes, then lifted them again and stared into the Sergeant's face, her tongue licking nervously around her lips.

"You'll do for our boys, Gertie. Go over and start stripping off Amanda. Every piece of clothing on the floor back here, and we'll set you up on your toes for every return trip."

The rest of the Rebel soldiers nudged each other and guffawed, thinking it a great game. As it went on that opinion seemed to strengthen. Not once did Madeline or Gertrude came back with a item of discarded feminine clothing without each of the five men openly saluting her with stroking palms and busy fingers. Quick movements, for they had no intention of holding up either lady in her errands, but effective ones. Gertrude was snorting deep in her throat presently each time she became the brief center of the mens' attention, although she still tried to avoid the eyes of anybody in the audience. Madeline, on the contrary, kept on looking around and giggling with embarrassment each time her gang of admirers crowded around her to openly perform their lewd caresses.

Amanda and Helen could see all this as they looked over the top of the flag, their need for protection behind the square of fabric becoming more urgent with each trip. It was a blessing that they were both of the same height but even so an awful lot had to be shown off above the flag. Amanda felt as if she was in the lowest cut gown imaginable and the eyes of the men a few paces away examined her freckle topped breasts as if they were golden treasures. Helen's white skinned bustline was also receiving much attention whenever the men glanced in her direction. Although it was true that much of their attention was distracted by Gertrude and Madeline. And, presently, whenever both of those ladies were away, another woman was seized on at random as a temporary substitute to be squeezed and fondled.

The Sergeant began to make a game out of it by using a dunce's cap he'd taken from the corner, and also the stool that was there. The stool was set down by the growing pile of clothes, the cap on it and then Wade took a woman and sat her on the stool. She was then obliged to put the tall conical paper hat on her head and hold it there with both hands as the men paid their admiration to each seated victim's soft curves with their stroking palms and grabbing fingers.