Meanwhile, the man’s hand was still resting on my bag. “What you got in here anyway?” he asked.
“My clothes,” I answered, feeling myself starting to sweat. What if they opened it? My letters from Mr. Lincoln were in there, copies of several articles I’d written in northern newspapers, and notes for new articles . . . not to mention my journal. They would hang me for sure if they found all that!
“Mighty big bag for coming down just from Culpeper,” he said. I didn’t at all like the suspicious sound in his voice.
Just then, from farther into the camp, a man approached who looked even more important yet. Some of the men fell away to make room for him, and he came straight on toward me.
“What’s going on here, Lieutenant?” he said to the man who had been talking to me. Then he glanced up at me where I still sat on the horse, tipped his head slightly, and added, “Ma’am.” Then he looked back to the lieutenant.
“This young lady just came riding in here like she was in a pretty big hurry,” the lieutenant said to him. “She says she’s from Culpeper, Major, and bound for Richmond. But she’s not altogether making sense. Then she said she’s got to get to Fredericksburg, which the Yankees got now. I don’t know, sir, she just seems a mite confused. And then there’s this bag of hers,” he said, patting it a couple more times.
The major glanced up at me.
“You confused, young lady?” he said. “Or maybe just frightened?”
I nodded, and whatever else may have been said, he knew I was telling the truth about that!
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, these men of mine may be a hard-fighting and a rough-tongued bunch. But if there’s one thing we southerners know, it’s how to treat a lady. I promise you, you have nothing to be afraid of.”
He paused, then added in a more serious tone, “But these are dangerous times, ma’am. I’m sure you’re aware of that. There’s Yankees and spies and patrols and marauders prowling around through these woods for miles in every direction. So you see, we’ve got to be mighty careful, and we’ve got to know where you’re going and where you come from, and what your business is. We’re under orders from General Lee himself to let no one past us on this road here. No one. So you see why my men are asking you all these questions. We got our orders, ma’am. And besides, we can’t just let a young woman like you be riding out loose any old place you want. Why, you might run into a patrol of Yankees and get yourself killed! They’re a ruthless lot, and we’d never forgive ourselves if we let something happen to you.”
“Let us open up her bag, Major,” called out the man whose sound I didn’t like. “It’s been a long time since we seen any women’s duds! We’ll find out what she’s up to all right!” He gave a terrible and suggestive laugh.
Suddenly I found my voice, though I was shocked to hear what came out of my mouth.
“I was just trying to get some warm things down to my husband before winter!” I cried. “I haven’t seen him in four months, and I was desperate to get word to him that we was going to have a baby!”
I burst out crying, yanked back on the reins, spun the horse quickly around, and without waiting for another word from any of them, kicked at the horse and galloped off as fast as I could northward along the road I’d come in on.
The last thing I saw out of the corner of my eyes was the group of gray-clad Rebel soldiers standing where I left them.
I heard a few comments and some laughter. But just as I rounded a turn and was nearly out of earshot, I thought I heard the major say, “Well, Lieutenant, you’d better go after her. Make sure she gets headed back to Culpeper all right.”
Chapter 54
Retracing My Steps
I rode the poor tired horse as fast as he would go, but it wasn’t near as fast as I wanted him to go! Oh, for Raspberry right then!
It was five or ten minutes before I heard hoofbeats behind me. My mount had slowed noticeably. The moment I heard him I knew it was no use. I reined in and let the rider behind me catch up. He galloped up alongside, then eased to a gentle canter beside me. I glanced over to see the southern lieutenant.
“Whoa . . . whoa there!” he said, as much to me as to my horse. We both slowed to a stop.
“You really didn’t have to chase outta there like that,” he said. “None of us meant you any harm.”
“I know,” I said. “I was just nervous and scared.”
“Well, now that we all understand, the major wanted me to ride along with you awhile, just to make sure you was going to be all right.”
“I can find my way,” I said.
“And I’ll just make sure of it.” He eased his horse forward. Mine followed.
“Are . . . are you going to ride with me all the way . . . to Culpeper?” I asked.
The lieutenant laughed.
“No, missy,” he said. “Culpeper may be in Virginia, but that’s Yankee territory now. No, I’ll get back to my unit before this night’s well settled in, as long as I know you’re safely on your way. The clouds have lifted and the moon should be out. I think you’ll make it before it’s been dark more than an hour or two.”
“It’s very kind of you to be so concerned about me,” I said.
“Like the major said, we southerners know how to treat a lady. Being a Virginian yourself, ma’am, I wouldn’t think you’d be surprised.”
I said nothing. What he’d said reminded me of Katie and Edie. I wondered where Edie was right now, and if she was safe.
“And I still can’t rightly see why you was so jittery back there,” he went on. “Us southerners gotta stick together, not be afraid of each other.”
Still I didn’t reply. I was getting all the more uncomfortable having him think things about me that weren’t true!
He rode along with me for about another thirty minutes. We talked some, but I felt so awkward that I don’t suppose I exactly encouraged a lively conversation. Finally he turned his horse around.
“You just keep straight on this road, ma’am,” he said. “It’ll take you straight into Culpeper. If you meet any Yanks, don’t tell ’em nothin’ about your husband or you’ll never know what they might do to you. Just tell ’em you lost your way, or tell them anything. And if they do try to start bothering you, like Yanks’ll sometimes do to women, well, you just tell ’em, you know, ma’am . . . tell ’em as how you’re in a family way. Even them brutal Yanks won’t bother a woman that’s carrying a child.”
I thanked him again for his concern, and told him to thank his major for me, too. Then the minute he was out of sight, I dug my heels into the horse’s sides again. He’d had far too long a rest. And I had urgent business I had to get back to!
I had no intention of riding all the way back to Culpeper. The thought of a night in that hotel with that suspicious lady wondering about me was not one I relished.
Within another thirty minutes I came to a crossroad. It didn’t look like much, but it was running east and west. It was nearly dark by now, but I saw a small hand-painted wooden sign a little off the road. I moved up beside it, leaned forward in the saddle and squinted. I could just barely make out the words Locust Grove and beneath it Fredericksburg.
That was all I needed to see. I wheeled my tired but trustworthy steed to the right and off through the wooded thicket along what wasn’t much more than a wide path. I’d ride as long as I could be certain of my way, then find some place to hide out of sight and sleep until dawn. It didn’t cross my mind until later that I was in the very vicinity of the battle back in December of 1862, which Cal had received the telegram about when I was following him in Sacramento. It had been the Confederate victory at Fredericksburg that had convinced him to defect to the South’s cause. Now here the two armies were again, nearly in the same place, with the outcome of the entire war hanging in the balance.
Chapter 55
General Ulysses S. Grant
I made it the rest of the way without incident.
After I’d settled onto the softest grass I coul
d find for the night, using some of my clothes as bedding and blankets as best I could, I found myself reflecting on the events of the day.
Suddenly it occurred to me what I’d done an hour and a half earlier. I’d lied to get away from the Confederate soldiers! Not only had I lied, I’d done it naturally, without even thinking about it.
A part of me tried to justify it, but without much success.
Whatever the result, even though I had gotten safely away, I had done wrong. If I hadn’t told the lie, perhaps God would have found some other way to get me out of there. Or maybe he did have some other way in mind, just waiting to perform, and then I snatched it out of his hands. Perhaps I had prevented him from helping me by helping myself instead!
By the time I finally fell asleep, I was feeling bad for not trusting him enough to know that he would have protected me. But I was too tired to be miserable about it. And I did trust him enough to know that he would forgive me and would keep taking care of me from now on, if I would let him.
“I’m sorry, Lord,” I said finally. “I got so caught up in what was happening that I didn’t think to pray and ask for your help. Forgive me for lying. Help me to remember your presence. Wherever my steps go from here in this thing, please guide me and keep me exactly where you want me to be.”
The night passed tolerably. By early afternoon the next day I was in Fredericksburg, where I got food, water, and a new supply of feed for the horse. A few suspicious looks came my way, but I paid no attention, took care of my business, and headed south, confident now that I was well behind the stretched out line of Union troops. By taking my way southward in an arc behind them, I would eventually arrive at the southern position outside Petersburg, where the intense fighting was still going on. That’s where I was certain I’d find General Grant.
It took me a day and a half more to reach the front lines. It was evening when I rode into the hospital camp. I was amazed to find it virtually unmoved from where it had been when I’d left well over a month before. The siege of Petersburg and Richmond hadn’t had much result. Most of my friends from the Commission were still there, although the fighting had abated considerably and many of the wounded had been transferred to hospitals in the North, so it wasn’t nearly so horrid as before. I was surprised to find Clara Barton still there. Even before I left, she had been talking of going down to Atlanta, where there had also been a great amount of bloodshed.
I went immediately to the army doctor who was in charge of the hospital and medical units.
“How far are we from the field headquarters?” I asked.
“You mean General Grant’s quarters?”
“Yes. I have to see him.”
The captain could not help laughing. “You want to do what?” he asked.
“I’ve got to see him,” I repeated. “It’s extremely urgent. How far away is it . . . could I get there tonight?”
“I don’t know, Miss Hollister,” he said, still chuckling. “I’d say it’s three or four miles. But at night, with all those trenches, unless you had an escort, it could be a mite risky.”
“Could you take me?” I said.
“Me?”
“Yes. I need to get there, I tell you.”
“I suppose I could,” he answered slowly. “But not tonight. I wouldn’t go out there toward the front in the dark. They’re liable to take you for a Reb patrol and shoot you dead before you had the chance to say a word.”
I thought to myself a few seconds. This was only Sunday night. There was still plenty of time.
“How about at dawn, then?” I said after a pause. “Will you take me there first thing in the morning?”
“Maybe I could. Say, what’s this about, anyway?”
“I can’t say. I’ve just got to see the general, that’s all.”
“He’ll throw you out. You’re never going to get close to him . . . at any time of the day.”
“Will you take me?”
“All right, all right! You’ve patched up enough wounded around here, I guess you’re entitled. But I tell you, you’re not about to get inside General Grant’s tent.”
“Let me worry about that,” I said. “I’ll be here at sunup.”
I turned and left his tent and returned to the nurses’ quarters, where I spent the night.
The next morning I was saddled and ready to go just as the sun’s first rays were coming over the ridge in the east.
True to his word, the captain was also ready. We set off westward toward the front lines, passing through the regiments and units of thousands of Union soldiers. General Grant’s army had been encamped here so long that everything had a look of permanency. Along with hundreds of tents and campfires, there were even a few small buildings that had been constructed, stables for the animals, blacksmith shops. In places it resembled a real town—except that there were no women or children, and everyone wore blue and carried guns. In a way it was a city—a mobile city of eighty or ninety thousand men . . . a city whose only purpose was to wage war on the Confederate capital.
There had been no fighting the day before, and none was expected today. Guards and cooks were about, of course, but many of the men still slept or else were just rousing themselves. Everywhere the white smoke of campfires lazily filtered upward into the still frosty morning air, but it was a far calmer scene than I might have expected when riding through the middle of the Army of the Potomac.
Occasional stares followed us as we passed, now and then a salute to the captain. But these men had seen more already than a lifetime would allow them to forget, and the sight of a woman riding through camp, even when they were just getting dressed for the day, was hardly enough to surprise them. Most hardly seemed to notice me at all.
At length we came to a collection of larger tents, two or three buildings, and a farmhouse that had been commandeered, and I knew we had arrived at our destination. In the distance I could see the edges of the maze of trenches that had been dug around Petersburg where the men in the front stayed.
We rode up to the house. “We’re here to see General Grant, Sergeant,” the captain said.
“I don’t know if the general is up yet, Captain.”
“Then find out, Sergeant. We’ll wait.”
The sergeant disappeared inside, then returned about a minute later. He was followed by a major.
“What’s this all about, Captain?”
“Only that we have to see the general.”
“The general is barely out of bed,” replied the major, “and is not seeing anyone all morning.”
The captain glanced over at me—apologetically, yet with an I-told-you-so look.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck, Miss Hollister,” he said. “I brought you here, but like I said, they don’t let just anyone into the general’s headquarters.”
“Especially not before 7:00 a.m.,” added the major curtly. “Good-day, Captain.” He turned and began walking back toward the house.
I was off my horse and after him in an instant.
“Wait . . . wait, please, Major!” I called, running after him and grabbing his arm. “I’ve got to see General Grant! It can’t wait . . . it’s very important!”
He stopped and spun around, pulling his arm away from my grasp and casting down a look of extreme annoyance at me. He bored into me with his eyes for several seconds. Then, apparently not thinking I deserved so much as a word in reply, he turned again and with deliberate step began walking again to the house.
Once more I hurried after him, grabbed his arm and held on tightly.
“I’ve got to see him!” I repeated.
The major spun around and glared at the captain still sitting on his horse watching the scene. “If this is your idea of a prank, Captain,” he spat, “it has gone far enough! You get her out of here or I’ll have you court-martialed. The affections of this schoolgirl for the general hardly befit your commission, Sergeant!”
But I was not about to be hauled away by the major and the guard. And by now I was more
than a little upset myself! Schoolgirl affections! I was trying to save the general’s life!
I let go my hold on the major’s arm and dashed for the door. I was onto the porch before he realized it, and now he sprang after me. But by the time he had a chance to grab me, I threw open the door and bolted inside.
“I must see General Grant!” I cried. “Won’t anybody listen to me? The general is in danger!”
There were two or three other men inside what looked to be a parlor or sitting room just inside. They glanced up, but before anyone could say a word, the major burst through the door after me and had hold of me in a vise-grip within seconds. I tried to scream out again, but felt his large hand clamp tightly over my mouth. Then he dragged me toward the door.
This was awful! I was going to be sent off, probably to a stockade. If I didn’t do something drastic—and soon—the general would never hear of the plot against him.
The major’s strong right hand was over my mouth, and his left clutched me around my midsection. But one of my arms was halfway loose. With a great heaving effort I lifted my right arm and slammed my elbow into the major’s stomach. I don’t suppose it hurt him much, but the jolt of it took him by surprise and he lost his breath momentarily.
It was all I needed! I kicked at his legs, struggled free, and again bolted away, this time for a closed door on the opposite side of the room. I heard shouts and curses behind me, as well as the major’s running feet.
Just as I reached it, the door opened, and I suddenly found myself running straight into a man’s chest, and then toppling to the floor at his feet.
The steps of the major behind me stopped instantly, and the shouting ceased.
“I apologize for this most bothersome intrusion, General,” the major said. “I assure you, this tramp and the man who brought her here will be punished severely.”
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