by Lynn Austin
“Amen. But how about after that?” Eli asked gently.
Caroline brushed away a tear. She had prayed that Charles would live, and God had answered. In her deepest heart, all she wanted was for Charles to forgive her, to love her as he once had. But that wasn’t going to happen. A year ago she had begun to let go of that dream when she gave her wedding dress to Sally. No other dream had taken its place.
“I pray that my father comes home safely,” she finally said. “And my cousin Jonathan, too . . . I really haven’t thought much beyond that.”
“All right,” Eli said. “Let’s all pray . . . Massa Jesus, you see our dreams and know our hearts. You hold our futures in your hand. We can pray ‘Thy will be done’ with joy in our hearts because there’s hope in that prayer—hope that because you love us, your will is the very best thing for us. Take our dreams and your dreams for us, Lord, and make them one and the same. In Massa Jesus’ name, amen.”
As Eli prayed, Caroline felt God drawing near to her, just as He had a year ago in Sally’s bedroom. She realized that she still clung to Charles in her heart, hoping that he’d take her back—just as she’d clung to her wedding dress and trousseau long after the planned date had come and gone. Once again, Caroline opened her heart and her hands to God, surrendering her love for Charles to His will. By the time Eli said “amen,” Caroline felt at peace— even though the terrible pain of losing Charles still filled her heart.
“And now we got a little surprise for you, honey,” Tessie said.
Caroline opened her eyes and looked up. All of her servants were watching her. Tessie handed the baby to Eli and went over to the fireplace to fetch his Bible from the mantel. “We all been working on this surprise for a long time,” she said, searching for a bookmark as she talked, “but we saved it for a special day, like Christmas. We got something we want to show you.” She handed the open Bible to Ruby.
“ ‘O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever,’ ” Ruby read, pronouncing each word slowly, carefully. “ ‘Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of enemy; And gathered them out of the lands, from the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south.’ ”
Ruby passed the book to Luella, and she began to read: “ ‘They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them.’ ”
Gilbert took the Bible next. “ ‘Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble,’ ” he read, “ ‘and he delivered them out of their distresses. And he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation.’ ”
Gilbert gave the book to Esther. “ ‘Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.’ ”
Caroline could barely speak. Her servants could read! “How. . . ?”
“You such a good teacher,” Tessie said, “all I did was tell them everything you tell me. You the one who really taught them.”
“She’s right,” Eli said. “You planted the seeds and God been making them grow, even if you ain’t seeing it.”
“You should be a teacher after the war,” Tessie said. “Lot of colored folks gonna need one.”
“You like your surprise, Missy Caroline?” Gilbert asked shyly.
“Yes,” she said through her tears. “It’s the most wonderful gift anyone ever gave me.”
“Oh no, honey,” Tessie said, hugging her. “You’re the one who gave the gift to us.”
Spring 1865
Caroline closed the newspaper and folded it carefully, resisting the urge to crumple it up and toss it into the kitchen fireplace. The paper on which it was printed was of such poor quality that if she didn’t handle it carefully there would be nothing left of it for the others to read. But Tessie, sensitive to her moods, noticed her frustration.
“Guess it ain’t good news you’re reading this morning?”
“No. It’s the worst. The peace negotiations at Fortress Monroe have ended in failure. President Lincoln demanded unconditional surrender, and of course, the Confederates refused. They’re still insisting on ‘the preservation of their institutions’—meaning slavery.”
“Lord have mercy!” Esther said. “Don’t them Rebels know it ain’t doing them no good to fight for slavery if all us slaves starve to death first?”
“The other big news,” Caroline continued, “is that the Confederate Congress is considering a law to conscript slaves.”
“You mean, make them fight in the army? For the South?” Tessie asked in amazement.
“Yes. The paper says that General Lee has been begging for such a law for a long time because he needs men so badly. Thousands of his troops have gone home on furlough and have never come back. He can’t possibly defeat General Grant this spring unless he gets more men.”
Tessie shook her head in amazement. “So they gonna put slaves in uniforms and give them guns? Ain’t they afraid we gonna turn the guns around on them?”
“I guess not. It shows how determined the South is to keep fighting—and how desperate they are.” Caroline remembered how shocked and outraged the South had been when they’d first encountered Negro soldiers who were fighting for the Federals. Now that they’d seen how well the Negroes could fight, they were about to draft them into the Confederate army, too.
“They ain’t gonna take Eli and Gilbert, are they?” Ruby asked.
Caroline shook her head. “They can’t draft anyone without his owner’s consent. And I’ll certainly never give it.”
“Maybe they both be better off in the army,” Esther muttered as she mixed up a skimpy batch of corn bread. “Maybe they finally get a decent meal if they soldiers.”
“No, I don’t think the soldiers are eating any better than we are,” Caroline said. “One entire page of the newspaper was a notice from the Commissary General along with a plea from General Lee, begging people to turn over any extra food supplies they have to the army so they can feed the starving soldiers.”
Esther huffed. “Like we got anything extra to hand over!”
When it was time for the noon meal, Eli arrived home. Caroline had sent him downtown that morning, and she was eager to hear any scraps of news he had picked up through the servants’ grapevine. Since she had been confined to her home all these months, the grapevine had become her only source of news about Charles and his family.
“I saw a whole bunch of Rebel troops passing through the city this morning,” Eli said after he’d blessed the food. “They heading south. I tell you, if it wasn’t for all them white faces, I’d swear I’m seeing a gang of slaves going by on the way to the cotton fields. They so sorry-looking, all in rags, shoes falling off their feet, heads hanging down . . . and the horses nothing but skin and bones.”
“Did you talk to any of the St. Johns’ servants?” Caroline 398 asked.
Eli lowered his head, concentrating on his plate of food as if he hadn’t heard. That could only mean one thing—he had bad news that he was unwilling to share. Caroline laid down her fork.
“Tell me, Eli. Please. Don’t you understand that not knowing is worse torture for me than hearing the truth?”
When he still didn’t reply, Esther said, “Tell her. That gal ain’t gonna eat a bite of food unless you do.”
Eli sighed. “Massa Charles has gone on back in the army to fight.”
Caroline closed her eyes. For a moment the room went utterly still. Even little Isaac seemed to sense everyone’s shock and didn’t make a sound.
“Has Charles fully recovered from his wounds, then?” Caroline asked when she finally opened her eyes. She had to stare at Eli for a long time before he replied.
“His shoulder still stiff, and he limping some, but he determine to fight. He arguing with his daddy ’cause his daddy want Massa Charles to stay home—but Mr. St. John too sick to stop him. That’s all I kn
ow, Missy. That’s the truth.”
Caroline excused herself and fled to her room. It was all for nothing, she thought. In a few weeks it would be spring, and the war would resume, and this time she had nothing left to offer God in return for Charles’ life. She had bargained away her future with him so that Charles would live. But now he was going back to the trenches outside Petersburg again, where he might very well be killed. The Rebels would surely lose this war, and then her sacrifice— and Charles’ life—would both have been spent in vain.
She stood gazing out of her bedroom window, shivering in her unheated room, when she heard a voice behind her. “Missy Caroline . . .” She turned, astonished to see Eli standing in her doorway. Except for the night Robert had escaped, he had never dared to come into the big house unbidden, much less come upstairs to her room. It showed Caroline, more dramatically than anything else could, just how much her world had changed.
“Missy, I know you ain’t gonna like hearing this . . . but you got to put Massa Charles in God’s hands and trust Him, no matter what.”
“Why did he have to go back to fight?” she cried. “I gave God the only thing I had left—my future with Charles—so that He would allow him to live. But my sacrifice will all be for nothing if Charles goes back there again and gets killed.”
Eli frowned as he took a few hesitant steps into the room. “You telling me you try and make some kinda bargain with God?”
“Yes. That’s why He answered my prayers and allowed Charles to live.”
“No, Missy . . . no,” he said, shaking his head. “That ain’t the way God does things. You can’t barter and haggle with Him like He’s a vendor down in the farmers’ market. He let Massa Charles live ’cause He have a purpose in him living, not ’cause you give Him something for it. You really want a God like that? Someone you can control and order all around—whoever gives God the most gets what they want? That the way you want Him to run the world?”
She thought of all the people, North and South, kneeling in their churches, praying for two opposing favors from God. “No . . .”
“Then let Him run things the way He knows best, according to His will. Trust Him, Missy. Trust that everything you done for Him and everything you gave up for Him has a purpose. God will give it all meaning in the end. When this war is finally over, things are gonna be the way He wants them to be—in Massa Charles’ life, in my life, and in your life, too.”
————
The fighting began in earnest at the end of March. Word quickly spread all over town that a battle was raging at Fort Stedman, outside of Petersburg. For the first time since the war began, Caroline couldn’t go to the Enquirer office to listen for news or to look for Charles’ name on the casualty lists. All of her slaves could read, but she didn’t dare send any of them to read the lists and risk discovery. She could only live in an agony of uncertainty, praying for Charles’ safety, waiting for the lists to be printed in the newspapers.
There was another battle at Five Forks on April 1. The Yankees drove the Confederates from their defenses southwest of Petersburg, taking the Southside Railroad, strangling Richmond’s last remaining supply line.
“No one talking about licking the Yankees anymore,” Eli reported from his trip downtown that afternoon. “They talking about leaving town any way they can.”
“It’s almost over,” Caroline murmured. “Seems like we’ve waited so long for this day to come, and now that it’s finally here . . . I’m scared, Eli. What on earth is going to happen to us? People have always predicted that the Yankees would run wild through the city once they captured it, raping and murdering . . .”
“Now, you know Gilbert and me ain’t gonna let no Yankees come near this house. We got your daddy’s pistols, and we certainly ain’t afraid to use them if we have to.” But Caroline was finding it harder and harder to sleep at night.
On the following morning, Sunday, April 2, the sun dawned so warm and bright that Caroline could almost believe that the Yankees were camped nine hundred miles from Richmond instead of a mere nine. Nothing disturbed the Sunday calm except the tolling of church bells as Eli went downtown to try to find out the latest news. When he finally returned home, a little before two o’clock, he made everyone gather around the table in the kitchen, even though dinner wasn’t quite ready.
“Word’s all over town that Lee’s army is in trouble. The Yankees broke through our defenses in three places and things are falling apart fast ’cause he ain’t got enough men to fight the Yankees off. General Lee send a message to President Davis while he sitting in church this morning, saying that he and everybody else better get on out of Richmond.”
“Are you certain that it isn’t just a rumor?” Caroline asked. “Because they’ve said the city was in trouble before, and the warnings were always false alarms.”
“No, this time I think the Yankees really are coming. Ain’t nothing to stop them if Lee retreats with his men. And that’s what he’s fixing to do.”
“What should we do?” she asked the people she loved, gathered all around her.
“Best thing is to pray,” Eli said, “and ask God what He thinks.”
But even after they’d prayed and had eaten the small meal Esther had prepared, Caroline still wasn’t certain whether they should remain in Richmond or try to flee to a safer place. “Will you take me downtown, Eli?” she finally asked. “Maybe if I see for myself what’s going on, I’ll have a better idea what we should do.”
“Ain’t you supposed to stay at home?”
“If all the rumors are true, no one will really care where I go anymore.”
Eli got the buggy ready, and they drove down the hill through the crowded streets. Most people were headed west or southwest, the only directions that weren’t blocked by thousands of Yankee troops. Caroline wondered how she and Eli would ever be able to move against the tide and get back up the hill again to their home.
As they passed Capitol Square, she saw people frantically packing government documents and hurrying them out of the building. In the business district, all the banks were open, even though it was Sunday, and people had lined up for blocks to withdraw their money. Wagons and carts of all sizes and descriptions filled the roads and bridges, loaded with trunks and boxes and household goods. Hundreds of people were fleeing on foot, walking the canal towpath out of town toward Lynchburg, carrying bundles on their backs. Ashen-faced soldiers with missing limbs hobbled by on crutches or were carried along on makeshift stretchers. Caroline saw one desperate mother loading her three small children into a goat cart. Every means of transportation imaginable was being used to leave Richmond.
Confusion and panic reigned over the entire city, growing and spreading like an epidemic. Seeing the terror on every face, Caroline remembered the story Eli had once told her of men running in fear from the giant, Goliath. Only little David had faith in God’s deliverance. She made up her mind. “I don’t think God wants us to run away in fear like this, do you, Eli?” she asked.
“No, Missy. Ain’t nothing wrong with being afraid—that’s only human. But we need to give our fear to Massa Jesus instead of letting our imaginations run off with it.”
“Let’s go home.” But even after making her decision, Caroline had to pray away her own panic as they headed back up the hill again.
It proved even more difficult than she had guessed to wade through the moving stream of people and vehicles, all headed in the opposite direction. Eli had to walk beside the panicked mare, leading her by the halter, to get her to move at all. At least a dozen people stopped them, begging Caroline to sell them her horse so they could transport a family member who was old or ailing. She turned away offers of Confederate dollars, U.S. greenbacks, and even gold pieces worth as much as a thousand dollars. She began to worry that someone would simply steal the horse, and she wished that Eli had brought one of her father’s pistols along.
When they reached the top of the hill, they saw a column of Confederate soldiers marching t
oward them, double quick. “We have to get off the main road,” Caroline cried. “Hurry. We can’t let them see our horse or they’ll take her.”
But instead of speeding up, Eli halted the carriage. “Jump down, Missy, and grab hold of these reins. She’ll go faster without the buggy.” As quickly as he could, he unhitched the horse as the sound of tramping feet drew closer. “Run with her, Missy. Run down that side street. Get her home, quick.”
All her life, Caroline had been afraid of horses, but she wasn’t about to lose the last one she owned to the Confederates. She grabbed the halter next to the horse’s muzzle and began to run. Five minutes later she stumbled into the carriage house, her heart pounding. She was breathless with exhaustion, but at least the mare was safe. When she could breathe again, she sent Gilbert back to help Eli pull the buggy home.
“We’re staying,” Caroline told her servants when they were all together again. “We’ll try to guard the house and the mare as best we can, but they’re not the most important things. What’s important is each other. Nothing else matters as long as we all come through this safely.”
For Caroline, waiting proved the hardest part—as it always had. She stood on her father’s balcony and watched the refugees stream across Mayo’s Bridge toward Manchester until it grew too dark to see. After nightfall, she could hear the chaos and tumult down in the city streets—shouts and cries and the sounds of breaking glass as mobs looted stores and some of the homes that had been evacuated downtown. She later learned that all the guards at the city prisons had fled, allowing convicts to escape and join the pillaging.
Caroline made her servants bring blankets and pillows into the drawing room where they would sleep that night, dressed in their street clothes and shoes. They tethered the mare right outside the doors to the backyard. She armed Eli and Gilbert with her father’s pistols. Even so, no one slept much, except for the baby.
Close to midnight, Caroline heard the cry of a train whistle as President Davis and the last of the Confederate government officials left town on the Danville Railroad. She lay awake in the darkness, praying for Charles and for all the people she loved, huddled in the drawing room beside her.
