by Ginny Dye
Spencer must have sensed that she knew nothing because he kept right on talking. “They brought them soldiers in late at night on the train. I done heard they didn’t want them to see much of the city. So’s they couldn’t send back information. You can’t talk about what you don’t see, you know.”
Carrie nodded and then studied Spencer carefully. He seemed genuinely excited about the prospect of Union prisoners. “How do you feel about this war, Spencer?” she asked suddenly. Spencer looked back at her for a moment as if deciding whether it was safe to answer. She looked back at him with a level gaze.
“I reckon as how I want to see the South win, ma’am,” he said strongly.
Carrie gazed at him in surprise. “You do?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated.
“Why?” Carrie couldn’t think of anything else to say. Was he just saying that or was he afraid to be honest with her? She knew people were being jailed for northern sympathies. Yet he seemed so genuinely excited.
Spencer shrugged. “I ain’t got no complaints about my life, ma’am. I got me steady work. Sure, most of my money goes to my owner, but I get me some on the side for my work, too. My family we all eat good, and we ain’t never been treated bad.” He paused, and then continued. “I got me some family up north. They work harder than me to make a living. And it be awful cold up there. I don’t want to leave the South. It be my home. I don’t got’s no idea what to expect if them Yankees come down here and try to take things over. My mama used to tell me it was better to fight a devil you know than to have to fight a devil you didn’t know. I reckon black folks in this country always going to be fighting some kind of devil. I reckon I’d rather fight the one I know.”
Carrie stared at him. “Thank you for being so honest.” His candor had left her slightly speechless.
Spencer shrugged. “I know you ain’t like most white folks, Miss Cromwell.”
“How in the world do you know that?” Carrie had never laid eyes on Spencer until today.
He just shrugged again. “Word gets around, Miss Cromwell. Word gets around.”
Just then Carrie’s attention was jerked back to the new prison warehouse by loud yelling.
“There they are!”
“Look at the Yankees!”
“Hope you have a good time in Richmond!” another taunted.
Carrie willed the carriage to go faster. She just wanted to get home. She had no desire to taunt prisoners and make their lives more miserable than they already were. The carriage was directly in front of the prison when a barrage of rocks thrown by the hecklers hit the brick walls and caused Carrie to snap her head up. For just a moment, she looked up and saw the row of faces staring down from the second and third floor windows.
One face caused her to grab both sides of the carriage with her hands and gasp. “Matthew Justin!” she breathed in a shocked whisper.
She leaned forward and spoke crisply. “Turn the carriage around, Spencer. I want to go back to my father’s house.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Carrie gazed up at the tall brick walls of the former Harwood Factory. The three-story building on the southwest corner of 26th and Main Streets had been a tobacco factory until just recently. The first commandeered tobacco warehouse had proven too small for the number of prisoners taken, so this adjacent building had been put into use for the Union officers. The scent of tobacco was still very strong. Carrie had gone into the warehouses with her father often. She knew the rooms were large and airy. She also knew the windows were open to the elements.
“Stop here, Micah,” she ordered as they came even with the large doors. She jumped out of the carriage, clutching the papers that would grant her entrance to the prison. It had taken both her father and Governor Letcher to make this visit possible. Without their influence, she would have been laughed out of the prison if she had dared approach it.
Just as she stepped down, a long line of carriages made their way slowly up the street. A score of young ladies peered out and up at the windows of the prison. Carrie could hear them as they rode by.
“Why, wouldn’t it be just awful if one of those Yankee officers were to look out the window right now?” one asked in a contrived voice of horror.
“Why, you know how improper it is for a Southern lady to look upon the face of one of those foreign devils!” Another exclaimed in mock horror. Then she looked eagerly toward the windows. Her disappointment at not seeing any faces was obvious.
Most of the ladies were much more discreet, hiding their faces behind their fans as they cast sideways glances at the window. Suddenly a couple of the women noticed Carrie stepping from her carriage. “Driver, stop!” one of them commanded sharply. Then she spoke to Carrie. “Are you really going into that prison?” she asked.
“I am.”
The fashionably dressed woman stared at her for a long moment. “Haven’t I seen you before? Is your father involved in the government in some way? Surely I’ve seen you at one of the dances.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Carrie said carefully. It was obvious the other woman did not approve of her going into the prison. She smiled and began to move toward the door. “Have a nice day,” she murmured as she edged away.
She could hear the woman’s voice behind her. “Well, really! You would hardly think one of our very own would be pandering to Union prisoners. What in the world is possessing you to go in with those Yankee devils?” Her high voice rose shrilly as she hurled her question after Carrie.
Carrie held her head high and continued to walk steadily toward the door. She had tried reasoning with unreasoning prejudice and hatred before. If she had thought it would do one whit of good, she would have turned around and talked to the woman. Knowing that it wouldn’t, she chose to ignore it.
A scowling young man opened the heavy, wooden door in response to her knock. “What can I do for you, ma’am?” he asked in a gruff voice.
Carrie eyed the young man dressed in his Confederate uniform. “I have come to visit one of your prisoners.”
The guard laughed abruptly. “Our prisoners ain’t taking no visitors, ma’am.”
“One of them is,” Carrie responded firmly. “I have a letter from General Winder giving me permission to come in.”
The guard’s attitude changed abruptly. “General Winder? Let me see that.”
Carrie handed him the sheet of paper. Her father had told her no visitors were allowed with the prisoners, but somehow Letcher had talked the superintendent of the prisons into writing this letter. It certainly paid to know people in the right places.
“Right this way, ma’am. You’ll need to meet Lieutenant Todd.”
Carrie followed the man to a small office set off to the right of the hallway. As she entered the office, a tall, stringy man rose to his feet. Her eyes went at once to the garish tattoos on both arms. Obviously the man had at one time been a sailor.
“What’s this woman doing in my prison?” he snapped.
“She has a letter from General Winder saying she can visit one of the prisoners, Lieutenant.”
“Let me see that thing!” he snapped again, reaching for the letter. He scanned it quickly and then looked up with a scowl. “Which one do you want to see, Miss Cromwell?” he asked, his voice reflecting a little more respect but still heavy with what Carrie could only identify as bitterness and anger. Immediately, she felt sorry for the prisoners in his care.
“I am here to see Matthew Justin.”
“His commission, ma’am?”
“I don’t believe he has a commission, Lieutenant Todd. He is not a soldier.”
Todd scowled again. “Oh, you mean that journalist fellow, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe I do.” She managed to keep her voice calm and pleasant.
Lieutenant Todd looked at her more closely. Then he jerked his head toward the guard. “Go get Justin. She can visit him in the room down the hall.” Then he turned back to Carrie. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take your bag, m
a’am. I can’t have you taking anything in to one of the prisoners.”
“That’s not a problem, Lieutenant.” She handed it over with a smile then stood waiting.
Todd stared at her again before he spoke. “Do you mind me asking why you are here to visit a Yankee prisoner, Miss Cromwell? It is obvious your father is important in the government if you were able to get a letter from General Winder.”
“Mr. Justin is a family friend. My father would have come as well if he could have gotten away from his duty.”
Todd scowled. “Don’t you mean he was a family friend? How can you possibly claim someone as a friend who is bent on invading the sacred soil of the South?”
Carrie spoke firmly. “He is a very special friend, no matter what side of this conflict he is fighting on. May I remind you, Lieutenant, he is not a soldier. He is a journalist.”
Todd stared at her with open suspicion. “There are people here in Richmond that would take your actions as evidence of sympathy amounting to an endorsement of the cause and conduct of these Northern vandals!”
Carrie wanted to laugh, but she held her tongue. General Winder’s letter would get her in whenever she wanted, but she didn’t want to cause trouble for Matthew. She sensed Lieutenant Todd could make life very difficult for those he didn’t like. She spoke carefully. “I assume you are a religious man, Lieutenant Todd?” Her question seemed to have caught him by surprise because he didn’t answer right away. Just as well. “Don’t you agree with me that love is the fulfilling of the law of God?” she continued in a pleasant voice. “You know, Lieutenant, if we want our noble cause to succeed, we must begin with charity to the thankless and the unworthy. I am merely trying to do my duty toward God.” She tried to keep her voice soft and gentle. It would not do for the laughter bubbling just below the surface to boil over. He would know she was merely pandering to him.
“Well...” Lieutenant Todd looked at her for a long moment and then opened his mouth to speak.
“The prisoner is in the room now, sir,” the guard announced from the door.
Lieutenant Todd snapped his lips shut as if he was glad not to have to answer. He moved to take his seat behind the desk. “Take Miss Cromwell to the room. You have thirty minutes, ma’am. That’s all.”
Matthew was sitting behind a long wooden table when Carrie entered the room. His clothes were dirty and rumpled as if he had been wearing them for days, and his long red hair lay limply on his shoulders, but his bright blue eyes still sparkled, and his face lit up with the same boyish grin when he saw her enter the room.
“Carrie Cromwell!” he exclaimed in delight as he jumped up from the table.
Carrie glanced up at the guard as he entered the room. He read the look on her face.
“I will be just outside the door, ma’am. I wouldn’t try anything tricky if I were you,” he warned before he turned and left the room, pulling the heavy door shut behind him.
Only then did Carrie turn to Matthew. “Matthew Justin!” she said warmly, reaching out with both hands. Matthew came from around the table, his body as tall and muscular as usual. She was glad to see he had no injuries.
“Carrie, how did you find me here?” he asked immediately.
“I was on my way back to the plantation yesterday and had to drive by here. I just happened to get caught up in the parade of people coming to see the prisoners,” she said with a smile. “When I looked up and saw you peering out one of the windows, I almost fell from my carriage. I turned around immediately and went back to my father’s house.”
“Your father. How is he? I’m sure he is still grieving your mother.” Matthew paused and then continued. “I think often of the wonderful Christmas I spent at Cromwell Plantation. It seems a lifetime ago. I find it impossible to believe it was only seven months ago.”
Carrie nodded. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said fervently, thinking back to that magical time before their world fell apart. “My father is doing well. He sends his greetings and says he will come to visit as soon as he can. He was shocked to hear you are in prison.”
“Your father... Can he…?”
Carrie shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid there is nothing anyone can do right now. It seems as if no one was prepared to have prisoners. It is all so new that no one knows what is going to happen. My father talked to Governor Letcher on your behalf, but he was unable to offer help either. I’m sorry, Matthew.”
Disappointment clouded his even features for a moment, but he forced a grin. “I got myself in this mess. I’ll have to be patient, see what happens, and make the best of it.”
“How did you get yourself in this mess? You’re not a soldier. How were you captured?”
“The same way our dear Mr. Alfred Ely found himself a guest at this wonderful hotel.”
“Alfred Ely.”
“A congressman from New York,” Matthew explained.
“There is a congressman from New York here as a prisoner?” Carrie gasped in disbelief.
Matthew nodded with a wry expression on his face. “I believe there is one other civilian besides us. A banker from Washington. The rest of my roommates are all officers in the Union army.”
“So how did it happen?” Carrie asked again.
Matthew shrugged. “The paper sent me out to do a story.” He stopped to look at her. “I couldn’t fight, Carrie.”
Carrie nodded. “I got a letter from Aunt Abby. She told me.”
“You received a letter from Aunt Abby?” Matthew asked incredulously. “The mail is being delivered here?”
“Well, of a sorts,” Carrie said with a grin. Then she held her hand up in protest. “I asked my question first. I’ll answer yours later.”
Matthew grinned. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, I was sent out by the Enquirer to cover the big battle. We had been assured the victory would be fast and easy. I thought it odd that so many spectators had come from Washington to watch, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. They parked their carriages and then spread out blankets to picnic on. Wine flowed freely, and everyone was quite excited about the prospect of seeing the Union soundly beat the South.”
“They must have been quite disappointed,” Carrie said wryly. When Matthew looked at her sharply, she knew he was wondering where she stood on everything. She was still too confused to know her own mind. She just knew Matthew would always be her friend.
“They were more than disappointed,” Matthew replied. “In the end they were absolutely terrified as our troops swarmed past and through them in an absolute panic. All anyone could think about was getting away, but the roads were clogged with traffic and overturned wagons. And still, fleeing soldiers kept racing by.” He paused, remembering. “I was doing my best to cover the story, trying to talk to everyone I could. Finally, I knew I had to get out of there. About that time, a couple of soldiers racing by grabbed my horse and took off on him. Then I saw a group of soldiers stumbling toward me. Two of them were badly hurt. I couldn’t just leave them.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was trying to help when the Confederate troops captured us. Now I’m here.”
Carrie looked at him in sympathy. How like him to sacrifice himself to help others. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Matthew’s eyes clouded for a moment, and then his ever present grin broke through. “I’m going to have one heck of a story when I get out of this place!”
Carrie laughed. “I imagine you are.” Then she asked, “Are they treating you well here?”
“It’s not so bad, I guess. The floor gets hard at night, and I’m already tired of gristly meat and doughy bread, but at least we have a place to sleep and something to eat. I never really imagined being a prisoner would be a pleasant experience.”
“Your Lieutenant Todd doesn’t seem like a very likable fellow,” Carrie commented, then told him some of what she had told Todd in his office.
Matthew roared with laughter before he sobered. “One of the saddest things about this war
is how it divides family. I’d say our Lieutenant Todd is one for the books, though.”
“What do you mean?”
Matthew looked at her. “Don’t you know who he is?” Her blank expression answered his question. “Doesn’t the name Todd ring a bell with you? Like maybe the maiden name of President Lincoln’s wife?”
“Lieutenant Todd is President Lincoln’s brother-in-law?” Carrie gasped.
“The same!” Matthew said with a grin. “It’ll make a great story one of these days.” Then he sobered. “Have you heard from Robert?”
Carrie shook her head. “Not directly.” Then she told him the story of meeting with Hobbs. “I’m sure Robert will want to see you if he gets back into Richmond.”
“Maybe,” Matthew said dubiously. “This war seems to wreak havoc on old friendships. They don’t seem to stand up to the strain of divided loyalty.”
“This one will,” Carrie declared. “Robert would never turn his back on your friendship.”
“You seem awful sure of your man, Carrie.”
Carrie paused. “He’s not my man, Matthew,” she said softly, forcing the words around the lump in her throat.
Matthew looked at her closely. “He loves you, you know.”
Carrie nodded. “And I love him. But I turned down his proposal of marriage in May.”
Matthew whistled but didn’t comment.
Carrie continued. “We stand too far apart on certain issues.”
“Such as slavery?” Matthew guessed.
Carrie nodded, struggling to hold back the tears that sprang into her eyes at Matthew’s obvious sympathy.
Matthew waited a long moment before he said anything. “Robert has only ever known one way of life. It’s going to be hard for him to see things differently. But I trust his heart. I don’t know what it will take, but I have a feeling you will be together one day.”
Carrie longed to take hope from his words, but she also didn’t want to hang on to a fantasy. “We’ll see,” she said finally.
