Into the Long Dark Night

by Michael Phillips

  No, I thought to myself. By now they would know it was me who had left in the night. Mrs. Surratt had probably rummaged through my room within minutes of my flight. They would suspect I had overheard, with my room right next to the parlor. I had mentioned to her earlier where I was staying.

  No, her son—or even Cal or that mean-sounding German fellow!—was probably hiding somewhere nearby, watching for my return, waiting to nab me!

  And if they did know it was me, and suspected what I was planning to do, might they accelerate the timetable? Maybe they wouldn’t wait the five days after all! That is, if Cal was still there . . . or if they could get word to him.

  There could be no delay! The danger to Mr. Grant might now be ever closer than next Wednesday.

  Should I telegraph him?

  They would be sure to think it a hoax! He would never remember my name. I could send it anonymously! No . . . that would be even worse. They would think it a Confederate plot to distract him and cause him to change his plans.

  Worse still, any message I tried to get to him, by telegraph or through somebody else, could easily be intercepted before it got to the general, either by the lieutenant spy Cal was talking about, or by somebody else who didn’t think the message valid enough to bother the general about.

  No . . . somehow I had to see General Grant myself. . . . I had to tell him face-to-face. Otherwise he wouldn’t know how serious it was if I didn’t tell him what I knew of Cal and how high up his Confederate connections were. It was the only way. . . . I had to get back to Petersburg and the front lines!

  But how?

  I’d have to go by horse. But first I had to get out of the city. The train would be the safest and quickest. The lines behind General Grant’s army were safely in Union hands. I could take the train as far as Culpeper, then rent or buy a horse there and ride behind the lines the rest of the way south to Petersburg.

  I sat down on my case. I couldn’t do anything for several hours, until the station opened. I was certain a train would be heading south out of Washington before noon.

  As my thoughts cleared, my body began to remind me that it had been a long night. I needed to find either an outhouse or a clump of trees before the sun came up and too many people were about! If only there was someplace I could wash my face and comb my hair. The hunger pangs in my stomach didn’t bother me. Food I could do without for a while, if I had to.

  Again I peered out of the car. The yard nearby was still completely deserted. It was probably not later than five-thirty or six. Leaving my bag where it was, I carefully jumped down.

  Chapter 51

  Boxcar Accommodations

  When I got back and had once again climbed aboard the car where I had spent the night, I sat down to wait as patiently as my stirred-up mind would let me for morning to come.

  It wasn’t long before another thought struck me. If they knew who I was—which they did—and they suspected I’d overheard their plot—which I was sure they did—and if they were looking for me at Mrs. Richards’ . . . then they were just as likely to look for me at the train station too!

  Even if Cal had left the house before I had, there would still be two of them, and they would be sure to be searching for me wherever they thought likely. And where more likely than the train station?

  No, I couldn’t just walk in and ask the attendant for a ticket. One of them was sure to be hanging about the place—maybe even Mrs. Surratt herself, if she was in on it too.

  If I was going to take the train, I would have to find some other way to do it. I’d have to find an open boxcar like this one going south, at least until I was out of the city.

  I got up and went to the door again. This time when I climbed down I took my bag with me. The car was on a side track and was clearly going nowhere anytime soon. I began walking toward the back of the station, keeping behind other cars and buildings so as to stay out of sight as best I could.

  I thought I knew which tracks were northbound and which southbound. In the central part of the yard, I saw men loading several cars about two-thirds of the way back in a long line of cars. The engine at the front I was positive was pointing south. Of course, I thought. The southbound train would be taking provisions to General Grant’s army. It would have come in mostly empty or else bearing wounded to Washington’s hospitals, and it would return with supplies. There would likely not be many passengers traveling toward the fighting.

  I inched my way closer, keeping out of sight.

  Before long I began to hear the voices more plainly. I got as close as I dared, then stopped to wait.

  “This one be full,” a man called out two cars down from where I was standing on the back side of the train opposite from where the doors opened toward the loading yard.

  I bent down and looked underneath through the wheels. I saw a man’s feet walking away from me. Then he stopped at the next car and joined another man there. I walked slowly down until I was at the back of the car he’d just finished loading, then stood directly behind one of the huge iron wheels so they wouldn’t be able to see my legs even if they should look under the train.

  In another fifteen or twenty minutes I heard them move on down the line to the next car. I stooped down and glanced underneath again. They were walking back to the building where the supplies had been brought, while a third man jumped up on the board of the wagon from which they’d been unloading, and from the sound of it yelled a command to a horse to head back to the supply building for another wagonload.

  Now was my chance! They all were sure to be looking the other way. I crouched down, got on my hands and knees, and, dragging my case along behind me, crawled under the car and peered out the other side. The two men were just entering the building about thirty yards away. I looked the other way, squinting into the sun, which was just coming up in the east. That way was also clear.

  I crawled out from under the train, stood up, threw my bag up into the open door of the boxcar, scrambled up behind it as fast as I could, and in another few seconds was safely inside and crouched behind sacks of flour, a bunch of wooden barrels, and crates marked “Explosives.” There could be no doubt left that this train was heading south toward the war!

  I got as far toward the back and out of sight as I could manage, then hid down as low as I could, trying to find a way to make myself halfway comfortable.

  Two hours later, from the sounds of the voices outside I gathered that all the cars were loaded. I heard footsteps approaching, then saw the shadow of a figure beside the door of the car I was in. I held my breath. The next instant a loud clanging crash echoed through my ears from the heavy wood door being pulled shut on its clamp with a slam.

  Suddenly I was left in the darkness. The only light came through in tiny gleaming shafts through the board and the edge of the door. For a moment a new fear surged through me. What if I was locked in and couldn’t get out! As long as the train was going in the right direction, I suppose it wouldn’t matter. We were sure to get someplace before I starved to death.

  I continued to wait. About an hour later I heard the sounds of the engine starting up. By this time many voices filled the yard outside. Another thirty minutes went by. Then the unmistakable jerking motions and clanking and creaking all indicated that the train was getting underway. Gradually it picked up speed.

  After some ten or fifteen minutes, once we were safely out of the station and I thought probably out of the city as well, I got to my feet and worked my way over the sacks of flour to the door. In the dim light I located a lever that looked as if it would unhook the latch from the inside. I put both my hands against the end of it and shoved upward with all my might. It didn’t budge. I tried again, harder this time. I felt it give slightly. Encouraged I gave it one more huge effort.

  All at once the lever flew upward, the latch unhooked, and the sliding door sprang back and opened two or three inches.

  Now I could shove the door open on its bottom rail at will. I did so, opening it to a space of six to ni
ne inches. We were still not up to full speed, but had left the city. The rising sun of the morning was looking straight in the opening at me as we moved to the right. We were heading south!

  Relieved, I took a seat closer to the opening and sat down on one of the canvas sacks. I had a long ride ahead of me and I might as well make myself comfortable. It was too dreary and spooky in the darkness, however, so I left the door open as it was.

  I didn’t know when or where the train would stop, but Culpeper was, I thought, some sixty miles away. We were sure to be there sometime that afternoon.

  Chapter 52

  Culpeper . . . and South

  The train rumbled on slowly for several hours without a stop. I didn’t exactly know the route or where we were bound, but as long as it continued south, I was moving in the direction I needed to go. There was no direct rail link yet between Washington and Richmond. Now that the Army of the Potomac under Grant had been dug in for so long in a wide swath arching down from Spotsylvania and Fredericksburg down through Cold Harbor and to Petersburg, most of the supplies were sent to them by ship down through the Chesapeake Bay and up the mouths of the Rappahannock, the York, or the James. Where this trainload of supplies was headed I wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t go much past Culpeper without getting dangerously close to being exposed to the rear lines of the Confederate troops and General Lee’s position. I assumed it was bound for the northernmost of the Union troops flanked out between Culpeper and Fredericksburg. If I could get a horse there and ride around behind the lines, it would still be another hundred and fifty miles, through rough terrain, to the siege position of the army outside Petersburg.

  At the first town where I felt the train starting to slow, I managed to close the door and latch it again so as not to be seen. We stopped briefly twice. I listened, but was unable to hear anything that indicated where we were. But the third stop, which must have been somewhere around two or three in the afternoon, had to be Culpeper. Moments after we’d pulled in, the engine let out a huge and final-sounding burst of steam, and I knew we’d arrived at our destination. Down the line I heard the boxcar doors being opened.

  There wasn’t anything they could do to me for stowing a ride now, so I decided to just jump down and be off. If someone tried to question me, I’d make a run for it.

  In fact, why should I wait until they opened the door at all? After all, they might take me for a Confederate spy!

  I got my bag right beside me—wishing by now I’d left it and whatever it had in it to the dubious care of Marge Surratt and her cohorts!—then gave the door lever a mighty shove. It gave way. I pushed against the door with my shoulder, got it open about two feet, grabbed my bag, and jumped down.

  “Hey . . . what the—” exclaimed a voice only about five feet away.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large Negro man with a crate hoisted over his shoulder. He couldn’t have chased me even if he’d wanted to, with that heavy load. But I didn’t wait to answer his unfinished question. My feet hit the ground running and I bolted straight away from the train.

  Nobody else seemed close by, although I heard a couple more cries that sounded as if they were meant for me. But I didn’t look back, and I heard no footsteps giving chase. In less than a minute I was out of sight of the station. I slowed to a walk and tried to take stock of my surroundings.

  The poor little town looked as if it had been ravaged by the war and had come nowhere near recovering. The only men were recent arrivals and wore the dark blue of the Union. The only natives of the place that were left were women, children, and the elderly. No one smiled.

  There were two hotels in town. One looked pretty badly shot apart and was boarded up. The other was still open, though who traveled this way now in the vacuum created by the armies I didn’t know. I went inside, found a table, sat down, and enjoyed three cups of water before ordering an early supper that, judging from the woman’s expression, was far too much food for a young lady of my size to be eating. She said nothing, however, beyond many curious looks and glances, and I offered few words in return.

  When I was through I asked her if there was a livery stable nearby. She directed me up the street, the curiosity on her face turning to outright suspicion. I determined that I had better make haste away from this place!

  It was a good thing I had some money with me when I’d made my escape out of Washington. The old man at the stable was only too glad to part with one of his horses for hard Yankee cash, and threw in a sorry old saddle for five more dollars. The horse looked as tired as the town, but once I got him used to my voice and to the idea of carrying me on his back, he did just fine. I missed Raspberry more than ever, but this sturdy fellow ought to get me there in one piece.

  I asked the man for a couple of long straps of leather, tied my clumsy bag onto the back of my saddle where it would rest on the horse’s rump, bought a canteen and a bag of feed, and after about forty minutes of transacting business and making all the impromptu preparations I could think of, I thanked him and sped down the street on my way.

  I glanced back and saw him wiping his forehead with his sleeve, holding his crumpled, dirty hat in one hand, with an expression of bewilderment on his face.

  I figured I had a good three hours of daylight left, maybe four.

  I took the road due south out of town. Having no idea how close I was to the very spot where fierce fighting had taken place back in May, and how close I was, in fact, to where I had earlier been when helping behind the lines, within an hour I was crossing the Rapidan River.

  Fredericksburg and the safety of the Union position lay southeast of Culpeper. But somehow I missed the Fredericksburg road and continued south.

  Danger was closer than I knew.

  Chapter 53

  Into the Wrong Camp!

  My first inkling of my predicament came too late for me to avoid it. Suddenly I found myself riding straight into a Confederate camp!

  My first reaction was fright. If I’d had time, I would have wheeled the horse around and galloped back the way I’d come. But I was past the sentry before I knew it, and it was suddenly too late. My heart leaped up into my mouth.

  “Well, hey there, little lady,” drawled the lookout, standing up from his post. Within a second or two I was surrounded by six or eight others.

  “Where y’all bound?”

  “Uh . . . south,” I said.

  “No need to be afraid, we ain’t aimin’ to hurt you none,” said one.

  “If you be headin’ south, ma’am, then you’re among friends now. Get off your horse and stop a spell. Y’all both look like you could use it.”

  The others all laughed good-naturedly. By now the group had grown to ten or twelve, and I realized I was right in the middle of a whole unit, not just a handful of men.

  My first reaction was: This is the enemy! I’d been involved with the North and the election and Mr. Lincoln and the whole point of view that we were “at war” with the Confederacy for so long that I forgot that these men clustering about me were Americans just like me. There was no difference between us. I had come only a few miles into Virginia. This was George Washington’s home state! And yet I was looking at them as if they were from some foreign country! When I later realized all this, I hated all the more what this awful war did to us. The unity that was the whole purpose of the Convent of John Seventeen was being trampled to death every day on the battlefields of this war—and I had succumbed to it, too!

  I sat there on my horse too terrified to move, or even to speak, but trying desperately not to show it. If they found out what I was doing, what awful things might they do to me? I was, after all, a spy—trying to outspy Cal and Surratt and the others with their scheme!

  I had heard they shot spies on sight, or hanged them, without even a trial!

  And I knew they must be able to read all over my face every single thing I was thinking!

  “It’s nigh on to nightfall, ma’am. You’d best get down and join us. We got us some beans a
n’ biscuits you’d be welcome to.”

  “Join us for the night!” shouted out somebody from the back, and the comments from a few of his companions were too awful to think about. I had to get out of here before they took me prisoner!

  “I . . . I, uh—I have to keep going,” I said lamely.

  “Ain’t no place to go, ma’am,” said one of the gray-clad men who was being nice and courteous. “We’re the rearguard unit, and if you was to keep on this way, you’re gonna get yourself all tangled up in the rest of our army. There’s some nasty fighting going on down that way. You tryin’ to get to Richmond?”

  “Uh . . . yeah,” I nodded.

  “It ain’t safe down there, ma’am.”

  “I . . . I reckon I took a wrong road back a ways,” I said, trying to put on a southern accent. It sounded ridiculous in my own ears, but none of the men seemed to notice.

  “Spend the night here, little lady,” called out the man who had said it before. “We’ll help ya find your way, all right!”

  “I . . . I have to go back,” I said. “I’ve got to get to Fredericksburg.”

  “Fredericksburg! Why, ma’am, the blame Yankees has got Fredericksburg! Ain’t you heard? We got a war on—and you’re right in the middle of it!”

  One of the men, who looked a little older and might have been an officer, now walked around, eyed my big brown leather case strapped behind me, patted it once with his hand, then asked, “Where you come from anyway, Miss?”

  “Uh . . . Culpeper.”

  “You don’t sound very convinced.”

  “I came from Culpeper all right,” I repeated.

  “Well, the corporal here’s right. It is nearly nightfall, and we do have food left, and you’d be welcome and safe here. I can promise you that none of these louts will bother you in the least . . . and neither will the Yanks. You’ll be as safe here as anywhere for miles.”

  There was a slight pause. I didn’t know what to do! If I did stay, I’d never be able to sneak out of here in the middle of the night! They kept sentries posted all the time, and if they saw me trying to make a run for it, then I would really be in for it!