* * *
Abigail had come home for the day, hoping that she might be able to give comfort to her mother and father. But her mother had no desire to speak with anyone, asking only to be left alone in her bedroom.
Abigail had always found it easier to talk to her father, especially as the war had begun to threaten Richmond directly. Her mother had always refused to talk about the war, but Abigail and her father sometimes exchanged their thoughts about Richmond’s future—and their own. But on this day, her father too was quiet. He said only that he was glad that the destruction of the Wilson’s home had at least not resulted in any fatalities. When Abigail asked him if the O’Toole’s family might also be in danger, he was noncommittal and quickly changed the subject.
Now, in the late afternoon, the house was quiet, the two boys having been sent off to play catch in the park on the capitol grounds. Abigail picked up a novel and began to read and soon was lost in the chivalric world of Sir Walter Scott.
But her brief reverie was soon disrupted by a sharp knock on the front door. She went to the door and opened it quickly, revealing James Whitney in full dress uniform.
“James! It is a great surprise to see you here,” said Abigail, nodding her head and smiling.
“Yes, I’m sure it is a surprise,” James replied coolly. “I had not myself expected to be speaking with you so soon.”
“Well, it is a pleasure. Please come in and sit for a while.”
James slipped off his cap, stepped through the door quickly and made his way into the parlor.
“Abigail, I have come to see you on a matter of great urgency,” he said grimly.
“I see, James,” she responded quietly. “Well, I cannot say that I am eager to hear urgent news of any kind, but I will be happy to hear what you have to say.”
“Abigail,” he continued. “You are in danger. Your family is in danger, although I must admit my concern is not primarily for them. It is for you. We were close once, you and I. I once thought…”
“There is no reason that friendship cannot continue to exist between us,” said Abigail, cutting off James’ trailing voice.
“Perhaps,” said James, regaining his composure, “but it is not my intention this day to try to rekindle past hopes. It is my intention to make you realize the seriousness of your situation.”
“You are referring, I assume, to the destruction of Mr. Wilson’s house?”
“I am.”
“Do you have any direct knowledge of the perpetrators?”
“I do not,” James shot back angrily. “The people who did that heinous deed were not Confederate officers, nor was the deed endorsed by any officer.”
“The Field Marshall’s detectives, then?” asked Abigail, her tone resolute.
James shook his head violently. “Abigail, what does it matter who put a torch to Mr. Wilson’s house?”
“I imagine that it would matter quite a bit to Mr. Wilson.”
“Not now! At this point it doesn’t matter at all! The damage is done!”
“But if we are to avoid more such horrific incidents?”
“Don’t you see, Abigail, that it is not in your power to avoid such incidents? It may not be in your power even to prevent them from happening to you or your family.”
“I see,” responded Abigail. “So our situation is hopeless.”
“It may not be,” said James, his tone softening slightly. “But you must declare yourself for the Confederacy. You must do it openly and unambiguously and you must do it quickly. If you do not…”
“Yes, James?”
“If you do not, you will almost certainly lose your teaching position. Your family is suspect and…”
“Oh, I see,” interrupted Abigail. “My family is suspect but I can save myself by declaring myself unambiguously for the great Confederate cause!”
“Confound it, Abigail!” exclaimed James, “I care not at all what you really believe! I am trying to help you by telling you what you must do to save yourself.”
“James, I am not sure whether I should be pleased by your concern for me or furious at your willingness to believe that I would be a complete hypocrite.” She paused and walked a few steps further into the parlor before turning to face him. “I do understand what you are trying to do, James. It is a very sweet gesture…all the sweeter because I know that you have come to be very disappointed in me in the last few days.”
“I can assure you that I did not intend…”
“Please—hear me out,” said Abigail quietly, putting up her hand gently on his. “I have come to love the city of Richmond, James—its lovely rolling hills, the beautiful capitol square, the warmth and elegance of her citizens. I have come to love the children even more—both the precious little girls and the not-so-perfect little gentlemen.
“And they have come to love you, I am sure,” said James, a hint of a smile coming across his face.
“But James…Richmond—the entire South—is more than these things. It is also slavery—the unjust imprisonment of one man of another. How can I love that?”
“No one loves it, Abigail,” James shot back. “It is a question of necessity, if we are to keep the southern culture alive. And there is now another necessity, whether or not either of us wishes it. It is the necessity that you save yourself by declaring your allegiance to our flag.”
“You know I cannot,” replied Abigail sadly.
“It needn’t be public. If you can declare your loyalty to the Confederacy right now—to me alone—and swear that you will give no aid or succor to our enemies—then I will vouch for you and no harm will come to you.”
“And my family?”
“I can say nothing without a similar pledge from each of them.”
Abigail paused, biting her lip and turning away. “Please don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t be overjoyed if these problems could so easily pass away from me and my family. I very much wish that things were as simple as you suggest. I almost wish I could be as naïve as I was just two years ago, when everything about Richmond seemed ideal.” She turned again and walked quickly up to James, her eyes burning into his. “But things cannot be made better so easily, James. I cannot make a pledge to you that would be bitter in my mouth even as I said the words and a lie as soon as they had escaped my lips. I must refuse.”
“I have done all that love or honor requires, Abigail. I can do no more,” said James, placing his cap firmly on his head and striding quickly toward the door.
“No, James,” Abigail said poignantly as the door closed behind him, “you can do no more.”
Due North to Freedom Page 13
