[Rare documents vault, Metropolis Museum, 9:40 p.m.]
Lex hauled a locked metal box onto a wooden table. "You don't have to stick around here, Clark. Luthor Corp. is footing the bill for a pizza party at the hotel where your class is staying. You should live it up. It's not every day you're in Metropolis."
"I'll catch up with the gang in a bit," Clark replied, "I just think it's cool that you're uncovering pieces of your family's history." He carried a draped painting into the room.
"Well, then," Lex unlocked the box. "You can help me sort out these letters. They were sitting in one of our warehouses in Louisiana."
Clark sat on a stool, put on a pair of cloth gloves and carefully handled one letter with a pair of tweezers.
"'October 30, 1862'," Clark began to read, "'Greetings, General Lee' ... Lee? These date from the Civil War!"
Lex glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone knows this part of Luthor history. Nathaniel Luthor, southern gentleman-officer. Reputed womanizer and drunkard. And one of the finest fighting men in the Confederate Army. What does the rest of the letter say?"
Clark peered at the elaborate writing. "'... I applaud the recent successes of your Army of Northern Virginia. Gotham is half a day's march away. Our scouts report federal troops massing in the woodlands just beyond the town limits. It will be All Hallows Eve tomorrow. I fear this does not bode well for us. All we can do is put trust in Providence, for next suppertime ... we shall have had a bloody affair. Yours truly, Colonel Nathaniel Luthor, Kansas Volunteers.'"
Lex examined the yellowed parchment. "It looks like you've come across some Confederate dispatches from the good colonel himself! At the Gotham battle, no less." He looked at the painting of his infamous forefather: handlebar moustache, a hand fidgeting on a sabre, Confederate colonel's hat cocked defiantly to the side of his head.
He frowned. "We know who won that battle ..."
[1862, outskirts of Gotham Town, two miles from Union lines]
General Lee had suffered tremendous losses. One-fifth of his army - 20,000 men - had fallen in defense of the Confederacy. But, he prevented the Union capture of Richmond, the heart of southern resistance. He wanted to give Col. Luthor's battalion some needed reinforcements - perhaps a cavalry company. The defense of the Confederate capital, however, was paramount.
"Dear Colonel," Lee wrote, "I fear that I cannot spare more troops. Richmond cannot fall. Should federal troops hold Gotham Town, I fear our position will be most precarious. Take the battle to the enemy. Perhaps then, they will reconsider their strategy! I trust that Kansas' sons will give the Yanks a good thrashing. Your friend, Robert Lee."
The courier galloped through the night, evading the main roads - and Union scouts. He was half a mile from Col. Luthor's camp when he stumbled into a Union cavalry company. The courier resisted and received a bullet in the back. The cavalry captain delivered the dispatch to the Union commander at Gotham, a Colonel Jeremiah Wayne.
Jeremiah smiled. "It will be All Hallows Eve tomorrow. We have those rebs now!"
There was a faint mist at dawn, October 31, 1862. Nathaniel looked at his pocket watch. He was certain that reinforcements would be on their way. A solid cavalry corps from Lee's army, in addition to Luthor's assembled Confederate force of 6,000, could surely outmanoeuvre the defenders of Gotham Town. President Lincoln had ordered available Union troops to repel a rebel invasion in Kentucky. The federal garrison could expect no relief for weeks, he thought.
A private galloped towards the camp. "My apologies, colonel, for interrupting your breakfast."
Nathaniel wiped the crumbs of cornbread from his moustache. "Report, soldier."
"Union troops are advancing through the woods," the young private caught his breath, "It looks like the entire garrison is itchin' for a fight!"
"Then they shall have one," Nathaniel Luthor adjusted his hat. He mounted his horse and raised his sabre. A bugle summoned the Kansas Volunteers into line. "Volunteers," Nathaniel bellowed, "if those Billy Yanks are in a hurry to meet the devil, we are obliged not to keep the devil waitin'!" The 6,000-strong Kansas Volunteers cheered.
The army noticed some movement in the woods. It seemed like a dark fog was about to smother them. "Captain!" Nathaniel shouted, then trotted to the front of the ranks. "Prepare to engage the federal troops."
Just behind the tree line, Jeremiah ordered his men to lie low. "Do not fire until I give the order!" he insisted. A crack of rifles broke the morning silence. A few dozen Union troops in the first rank fell in line --- grabbing their chests, their eyes, or their stomachs. The groans of the dying began to take its toll on the garrison's morale.
"First rank, prepare to fire upon the enemy!" Jeremiah ordered. The 5,000 troops of the Gotham garrison fired a deadly volley. Scores of rebel troops collapsed. Screams and moans echoed along the Confederate line.
Nathaniel heard a rumble behind the Union lines. His captain dashed towards him. "Colonel! The Yanks ... they - they have cavalry, by god. Cavalry!"
Jeremiah looked behind him. Lincoln granted permission for 500 cavalry to support the defenders, despite the protests of the Union commander, McClellan.
Nathaniel spurred on his horse. "Volunteers, fire at will!" A spatter of volleys slammed into the Union line. More yelps and groans of agony. The rumble became louder.
A Confederate bugler trumpeted. Nathaniel jabbed his heel into his steed's flanks. "Volunteers, charge!"
Five hundred Union cavalry troops crashed into the front lines of the Volunteers. A few rebels dismounted a Union officer and hacked at him ferociously with their bayonets. Many rebels fled at the fearsome sight of the sabre-wielding horsemen.
"Form square and close ranks!" Nathaniel hacked at the shoulder of a young Union lieutenant, who promptly fell off his mount. Most of the Volunteers huddled in a defensive square, a bristling hedge of bayonets. The cavalry charge had killed hundreds of rebels. There will still about 400 Union cavalry left.
In the melee, Nathaniel forgot about the Gotham troops still in the woods. His mistake, Jeremiah thought. He pulled out his sabre. "Fix bayonets!" he commanded. "Advance. Double-time!" Before the Volunteers could re-form in line, the Union troops were upon them.
On the horizon, the Confederate captain noticed a line of cavalry circling around. "We must signal the retreat, colonel! The cavalry means to outflank us!"
"No!" Nathaniel growled. "We press forth. Gotham must fall, or Richmond surely will!" Bayonets cracked into bone. The fields around Gotham were soaked in blood. Moans drifted through the woods.
Jeremiah and a party of troops had moved to capture the Volunteers' battle flag. No! Nathaniel cursed. He galloped through the mob of death, slicing and chopping a path through the Union lines. A sniper shot the sabre out of his hand.
Only a dozen rebel soldiers protected the colour guard, who huddled pathetically around their flags. Nathaniel pulled out a pistol as Jeremiah planted a sabre tip against the rebel colonel's throat.
"It appears, sir, that we have a draw," Nathaniel snarled.
"Indeed, it is," Jeremiah glared. A bugle trumpeted. The Confederates were calling a retreat.
Both officers withdrew their weapons. Nathaniel reared his horse. "I shall see you again, Col. Wayne, when Lee marches into Washington!"
Jeremiah tapped his sabre hilt to his face in salute. "And I shall see you, Col. Luthor, when we capture President Davis in Richmond!"
A few dozen Union cavalry advanced to clear the field of any lingering rebels. The Confederate battle flags would have been a fine prize, Jeremiah thought, but a victory at Gotham was far more satisfying ...
[Rare documents vault, Metropolis Museum]
"So, did Nathaniel ever meet Jeremiah again in battle?" Clark asked, as he stared at the colonel's portrait.
"Good ol' Col. Luthor saw action in the Battle of Gettysburg," Lex replied. "A Union rifleman shot him through the eye, so that ended his story. Col. Wayne lingered around to participate in the capture of Richmond a few years later. Yet another Luthor missed out on making history. A Wayne, naturally, was there when General Lee finally surrendered. Good thing that Nathaniel pushed for a railway line before the war, or Metropolis might not have made it on the map."
Lex checked his watch. "It's almost 11. I'll have the car come around to drop you off at the hotel. There's still the big parade tomorrow. You won't want to miss that ..."
Clark put on his backpack. "Thanks for letting me help out. I learned a lot." He dashed out of the vault room.
Lex read through the colonel's letters. Why is it that, every time a Luthor had a chance to grasp destiny, it was snatched away. By a Wayne.
God, that's so petty, he laughed to himself. Surely, my father isn't vindictive towards the Waynes because he's harbouring some ancient family slight ...
... Is he?
Lex hauled a locked metal box onto a wooden table. "You don't have to stick around here, Clark. Luthor Corp. is footing the bill for a pizza party at the hotel where your class is staying. You should live it up. It's not every day you're in Metropolis."
"I'll catch up with the gang in a bit," Clark replied, "I just think it's cool that you're uncovering pieces of your family's history." He carried a draped painting into the room.
"Well, then," Lex unlocked the box. "You can help me sort out these letters. They were sitting in one of our warehouses in Louisiana."
Clark sat on a stool, put on a pair of cloth gloves and carefully handled one letter with a pair of tweezers.
"'October 30, 1862'," Clark began to read, "'Greetings, General Lee' ... Lee? These date from the Civil War!"
Lex glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone knows this part of Luthor history. Nathaniel Luthor, southern gentleman-officer. Reputed womanizer and drunkard. And one of the finest fighting men in the Confederate Army. What does the rest of the letter say?"
Clark peered at the elaborate writing. "'... I applaud the recent successes of your Army of Northern Virginia. Gotham is half a day's march away. Our scouts report federal troops massing in the woodlands just beyond the town limits. It will be All Hallows Eve tomorrow. I fear this does not bode well for us. All we can do is put trust in Providence, for next suppertime ... we shall have had a bloody affair. Yours truly, Colonel Nathaniel Luthor, Kansas Volunteers.'"
Lex examined the yellowed parchment. "It looks like you've come across some Confederate dispatches from the good colonel himself! At the Gotham battle, no less." He looked at the painting of his infamous forefather: handlebar moustache, a hand fidgeting on a sabre, Confederate colonel's hat cocked defiantly to the side of his head.
He frowned. "We know who won that battle ..."
[1862, outskirts of Gotham Town, two miles from Union lines]
General Lee had suffered tremendous losses. One-fifth of his army - 20,000 men - had fallen in defense of the Confederacy. But, he prevented the Union capture of Richmond, the heart of southern resistance. He wanted to give Col. Luthor's battalion some needed reinforcements - perhaps a cavalry company. The defense of the Confederate capital, however, was paramount.
"Dear Colonel," Lee wrote, "I fear that I cannot spare more troops. Richmond cannot fall. Should federal troops hold Gotham Town, I fear our position will be most precarious. Take the battle to the enemy. Perhaps then, they will reconsider their strategy! I trust that Kansas' sons will give the Yanks a good thrashing. Your friend, Robert Lee."
The courier galloped through the night, evading the main roads - and Union scouts. He was half a mile from Col. Luthor's camp when he stumbled into a Union cavalry company. The courier resisted and received a bullet in the back. The cavalry captain delivered the dispatch to the Union commander at Gotham, a Colonel Jeremiah Wayne.
Jeremiah smiled. "It will be All Hallows Eve tomorrow. We have those rebs now!"
There was a faint mist at dawn, October 31, 1862. Nathaniel looked at his pocket watch. He was certain that reinforcements would be on their way. A solid cavalry corps from Lee's army, in addition to Luthor's assembled Confederate force of 6,000, could surely outmanoeuvre the defenders of Gotham Town. President Lincoln had ordered available Union troops to repel a rebel invasion in Kentucky. The federal garrison could expect no relief for weeks, he thought.
A private galloped towards the camp. "My apologies, colonel, for interrupting your breakfast."
Nathaniel wiped the crumbs of cornbread from his moustache. "Report, soldier."
"Union troops are advancing through the woods," the young private caught his breath, "It looks like the entire garrison is itchin' for a fight!"
"Then they shall have one," Nathaniel Luthor adjusted his hat. He mounted his horse and raised his sabre. A bugle summoned the Kansas Volunteers into line. "Volunteers," Nathaniel bellowed, "if those Billy Yanks are in a hurry to meet the devil, we are obliged not to keep the devil waitin'!" The 6,000-strong Kansas Volunteers cheered.
The army noticed some movement in the woods. It seemed like a dark fog was about to smother them. "Captain!" Nathaniel shouted, then trotted to the front of the ranks. "Prepare to engage the federal troops."
Just behind the tree line, Jeremiah ordered his men to lie low. "Do not fire until I give the order!" he insisted. A crack of rifles broke the morning silence. A few dozen Union troops in the first rank fell in line --- grabbing their chests, their eyes, or their stomachs. The groans of the dying began to take its toll on the garrison's morale.
"First rank, prepare to fire upon the enemy!" Jeremiah ordered. The 5,000 troops of the Gotham garrison fired a deadly volley. Scores of rebel troops collapsed. Screams and moans echoed along the Confederate line.
Nathaniel heard a rumble behind the Union lines. His captain dashed towards him. "Colonel! The Yanks ... they - they have cavalry, by god. Cavalry!"
Jeremiah looked behind him. Lincoln granted permission for 500 cavalry to support the defenders, despite the protests of the Union commander, McClellan.
Nathaniel spurred on his horse. "Volunteers, fire at will!" A spatter of volleys slammed into the Union line. More yelps and groans of agony. The rumble became louder.
A Confederate bugler trumpeted. Nathaniel jabbed his heel into his steed's flanks. "Volunteers, charge!"
Five hundred Union cavalry troops crashed into the front lines of the Volunteers. A few rebels dismounted a Union officer and hacked at him ferociously with their bayonets. Many rebels fled at the fearsome sight of the sabre-wielding horsemen.
"Form square and close ranks!" Nathaniel hacked at the shoulder of a young Union lieutenant, who promptly fell off his mount. Most of the Volunteers huddled in a defensive square, a bristling hedge of bayonets. The cavalry charge had killed hundreds of rebels. There will still about 400 Union cavalry left.
In the melee, Nathaniel forgot about the Gotham troops still in the woods. His mistake, Jeremiah thought. He pulled out his sabre. "Fix bayonets!" he commanded. "Advance. Double-time!" Before the Volunteers could re-form in line, the Union troops were upon them.
On the horizon, the Confederate captain noticed a line of cavalry circling around. "We must signal the retreat, colonel! The cavalry means to outflank us!"
"No!" Nathaniel growled. "We press forth. Gotham must fall, or Richmond surely will!" Bayonets cracked into bone. The fields around Gotham were soaked in blood. Moans drifted through the woods.
Jeremiah and a party of troops had moved to capture the Volunteers' battle flag. No! Nathaniel cursed. He galloped through the mob of death, slicing and chopping a path through the Union lines. A sniper shot the sabre out of his hand.
Only a dozen rebel soldiers protected the colour guard, who huddled pathetically around their flags. Nathaniel pulled out a pistol as Jeremiah planted a sabre tip against the rebel colonel's throat.
"It appears, sir, that we have a draw," Nathaniel snarled.
"Indeed, it is," Jeremiah glared. A bugle trumpeted. The Confederates were calling a retreat.
Both officers withdrew their weapons. Nathaniel reared his horse. "I shall see you again, Col. Wayne, when Lee marches into Washington!"
Jeremiah tapped his sabre hilt to his face in salute. "And I shall see you, Col. Luthor, when we capture President Davis in Richmond!"
A few dozen Union cavalry advanced to clear the field of any lingering rebels. The Confederate battle flags would have been a fine prize, Jeremiah thought, but a victory at Gotham was far more satisfying ...
[Rare documents vault, Metropolis Museum]
"So, did Nathaniel ever meet Jeremiah again in battle?" Clark asked, as he stared at the colonel's portrait.
"Good ol' Col. Luthor saw action in the Battle of Gettysburg," Lex replied. "A Union rifleman shot him through the eye, so that ended his story. Col. Wayne lingered around to participate in the capture of Richmond a few years later. Yet another Luthor missed out on making history. A Wayne, naturally, was there when General Lee finally surrendered. Good thing that Nathaniel pushed for a railway line before the war, or Metropolis might not have made it on the map."
Lex checked his watch. "It's almost 11. I'll have the car come around to drop you off at the hotel. There's still the big parade tomorrow. You won't want to miss that ..."
Clark put on his backpack. "Thanks for letting me help out. I learned a lot." He dashed out of the vault room.
Lex read through the colonel's letters. Why is it that, every time a Luthor had a chance to grasp destiny, it was snatched away. By a Wayne.
God, that's so petty, he laughed to himself. Surely, my father isn't vindictive towards the Waynes because he's harbouring some ancient family slight ...
... Is he?