On To Richmond

by Ginny Dye

  When the music stopped, a young man in gray approached. “May I have this dance, ma’am?”

  Carrie smiled, and in her mind was transported back to the times of joyful revelry before there was a war. For this night she would ignore the significance of the gray uniforms. She would simply see these young men as eager dancing partners. She nodded, then stepped into the young captain’s arms, and lost herself in the music once again.

  She lost count of her partners before she finally begged for a drink and brief rest. Her current partner, a dashing young lieutenant, immediately departed to fetch a drink for her. Carrie sank into a chair and gazed around the room. All the best of Richmond society were here. There were several faces she didn’t recognize, but the look of authority on their faces identified them as new Confederate government officials. The unfamiliar, beautifully attired women must be their wives.

  “Having a good time?” a soft voice asked in her ear.

  Carrie turned and smiled instantly at the woman settling down in the chair next to her. “Mrs. Lewis! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  “I haven’t seen you since the night at Spotswood when we were awaiting news from the battlefield. I hope your news was good.”

  “Yes. Thank you. My friend is doing quite well. My heart still grieves, however, for the men who were killed or wounded.”

  “Mine as well. And please, call me Victoria.”

  Carrie nodded. “Only if you will call me Carrie.”

  Victoria nodded pleasantly. “That was quite a dashing man you started off the dance with,” she observed.

  “The most dashing man here,” Carrie agreed instantly. “That was my father, Thomas Cromwell. And you haven’t seen me around town because I left just a few days after we talked to return to our plantation.”

  “You don’t live here in the city?” Victoria’s voice was surprised. “You must live with your mother on the plantation. How hard it must be not to have your father at home.”

  “My mother is dead. I am in charge of the plantation while my father works here in town.” Carrie caught sight of her father surrounded by a knot of men. He caught her eye across the room and smiled.

  “You run the plantation all by yourself?” Victoria asked, astonished.

  “Well, I have a lot of help,” Carrie said in amusement as she turned her attention back to the conversation.

  Victoria looked at her appraisingly. “You must be quite a resourceful young woman.”

  “I hope so. That’s how my father raised me,” Carrie responded with a smile. She knew other women were amazed by what she was doing. There was nothing special about it to her. She was simply doing what she had to do. She suspected women all over the South were being forced to do the same thing now that their husbands and fathers were fighting a war.

  Just then the lieutenant walked up with two drinks in his hand. “Miss Cromwell,” he said, handing her a tall glass of lemonade.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Victoria made a move as if to leave, but Carrie put her hand on her arm. “Please don’t leave.” Then she turned to the lieutenant. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit here with my friend for a while.”

  The Lieutenant responded with a bow. “I hope I may claim you for another dance later?”

  “Of course,” Carrie said graciously. Then she turned back to Victoria. The plainly dressed woman with the tired eyes drew her. There was something real about her lack of care about the impression she made. Oh, her clothes were well made and her hair was expertly done, but it lacked the flash of the other ladies. “You don’t really like these affairs, do you?” Carrie asked suddenly.

  Victoria shrugged. “They all tend to become the same after a while. Society is society. I have spent the last ten years in Washington, DC. When Louisiana seceded, we came here.” She paused and then smiled briefly. “All I really want to do is return to Louisiana and my flowers and gardens. I miss home terribly.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carrie said sincerely.

  “You must think me quite boorish.”

  Carrie shook her head. “Certainly not. I enjoy these events because I get to attend them so infrequently. I’m afraid if they were regular occurrences I would become quite bored with them as well. There are too many other things I would rather be doing.”

  Victoria gazed at her for a moment. “Thank you,” the older woman said quietly. “I must say, in all fairness, that life here is more interesting than in Washington. Maybe I should say that I feel as if I serve more of a purpose. It’s really quite interesting to see the changes taking place in ladies I have known all my life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, instead of lounging around in rocking chairs, they are all terribly busy. Everyone seems to have knitting or crochet needles in their hands nowadays. I have been to every store in this town in hunt of more skeins of wool, but there is none to be found. I am planning a trip to Petersburg next week in hopes of finding some there. I keep watching the paper and hoping there will be news of a supply that has gotten past the blockade or been smuggled in. I’m not sure how I feel about this war, but I most certainly want to see all our boys warm and cozy this winter.” She took a breath then continued. “Mrs. Henningsen brought home dozens and dozens of yards of cotton sheeting. That should keep us busy for quite a while.”

  “Cotton sheeting? What will you do with that?”

  “Have you not heard about the new hospital to be built?” When Carrie shook her head, she continued. “Dr. William McCaw is behind the effort. He has recently received permission to convert some newly constructed barracks on Chimborazo Hill into a military hospital. I believe he plans on it being quite large.”

  “They are expecting more battles and many more wounded soldiers,” Carrie said flatly.

  Victoria nodded. “Most people are finally shedding themselves of the ridiculous notion this is going to be a short war. They have seen the number of wounded pour in from a battle we won. Reality says we must be ready if the tide turns the other way.”

  “Thank you for your candor,” Carrie said softly. Her heart ached for the many soldiers she had seen in her hunt for Robert. Men who would return home without arms or legs to live the rest of their lives.

  Victoria shrugged. “The South railroaded people into this war as far as I’m concerned.”

  Carrie stared at her in amazement. This lady’s husband was an aide to the President? When Victoria threw back her head and laughed, Carrie realized how attractive she was. New life leapt to her face, and her tired eyes took on a sparkle.

  “Might as well be honest about it.” Then her voice grew grim. “Now that we have so many of our boys fighting this war, I intend to do all I can to take care of them.”

  There was something about her eyes... “Do you have sons in the army?” Carrie asked.

  Tears sprang to Victoria’s eyes. “Three of them. Two are fighting for the South. One is a Union officer.” Then she waved her hand. “I have a lot to be thankful for. My son in the North will probably never see action because of a vision problem. He works in the offices of one of the military departments. My other two boys are still down in Louisiana. They haven’t had to fight yet.”

  Carrie gazed at her in sympathy, wondering what to say to this revelation.

  Victoria read her face. “Don’t feel you have to respond. There is really nothing to say. Almost everyone is in the same boat as I am. That’s the one thing that makes these social gatherings bearable for me. I at least know I am with people who are united in interest and in heart. It helps me keep going.”

  Carrie gazed around the room with new eyes. How many more of the people here didn’t really agree with the war that had been thrust upon them? As she looked, new understanding crept into her heart. It didn’t matter to these people whether they agreed with this war in principle or not. The fact was they had loved ones who were fighting. They had loved ones who might never come home again - or come home horribly wounded. These people would pour forth all their
efforts and energies for their loved ones. It was that simple. The big decisions had been taken from their hands. They would do the best they could.

  Victoria seemed to read her thoughts. “It’s sad, really,” she commented, gazing around the room as well. “Five months ago practically every person in this room would have considered it unpatriotic not to push for the cause of Southern independence. Now many of them still push for it, but not for the same reason. They’re no longer making a stand - they are simply fighting for survival.”

  Carrie liked her new friend, but she was relieved when her father walked over to her. “Could I talk you into another dance?” he asked with a smile.

  Carrie rose with an answering smile. After Thomas gracefully acknowledged the introduction of her new friend, he led her in a rousing Virginia reel. Carrie allowed herself to be once more lost in the music. She was here to have fun.

  She and her father were both laughing and gasping for breath when the music came to an end. “You’re still the best dancer in Virginia,” Carrie exclaimed.

  “Only because I have the best partner.”

  “Except for Mother.”

  “Yes,” Thomas agreed with a smile, “except for your mother.”

  Carrie gazed at her father with relief. This was the first time in the almost year since her mother’s death that the mention of his wife had not caused her father’s face to be filled with pain. The look was one of fond remembrance. Carrie tucked her arm in his and squeezed it tightly. A sudden movement at the door caught her attention. She looked over to see a tall, stern-looking man in his sixties, quite distinguished looking in his gray uniform, enter the room.

  Thomas followed her gaze. “That is General Winder.”

  “The man who gave me permission to visit Matthew?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Carrie smiled. “I think I should go thank him.”

  “I don’t think that is a very good idea right now.”

  Carrie looked up at her father with a frown. “Why not?”

  Her father opened his mouth, but a shrill voice just beyond him drowned out any attempt to speak.

  “There’s the man in charge of those awful prisons. I do declare, it’s shameful how he molly-coddles those prisoners!”

  Carrie stared in amazement. The lady speaking was one of the most influential people in Richmond society. Carrie thought back to her visit with Matthew. She had seen nothing that indicated molly-coddling.

  Another woman, one Carrie had never seen, carried on the conversation. “It’s bad enough that we have to have those heathens in our city. I don’t know why our officials seem to think they should eat our food and use our supplies.”

  “Not to mention the danger they represent every single day,” the Richmonder snorted.

  “What do they propose we do with them?” Carrie whispered to her father.

  He didn’t have to answer.

  “They need to send all of them farther south,” the second speaker snorted. “I don’t know why people think Richmond has to do everything! The rest of this country needs to take on its fair share of responsibility.”

  Thomas took Carrie’s arm and led her away. “Not exactly party talk, my dear. And that is precisely why I suggested you not talk to General Winder. The poor man is being attacked on every side about these prisons. It’s dreaming to think he could make it through a night without having to face it, but on the off chance...”

  Carrie nodded. “Of course.” Then she asked, “Have there been any conclusions about the prisoners?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I understand a lot of them are soon to be moved to other locations. There is simply not room for them here. And in spite of the abundance displayed here tonight, the blockade is having quite a negative effect on our city. Food and other supplies are growing harder to come by. Prices are shooting up dramatically. People are beginning to worry whether there will be enough to take care of the mass of people crowding into our city. I’m afraid they are not in a mood to be generous with the Yankees.”

  “What about you, Father?”

  Thomas shrugged. “I think they need to be moved. Richmond can simply not support all of them. There are over two thousand of them in the city now. But as long as they’re here, I think we need to take as good of care of them as possible. I keep trying to imagine Robert or some of our other young men in Northern prisons. I would hope they would be cared for.”

  Carrie frowned at the thought of Robert in prison. “I’m going to visit Matthew tomorrow,” she said.

  Thomas nodded. “I hope you’re able to get in. I’m sure he will be glad to see you. There is no telling how much longer he will be here. Please give him my regards.”

  Just then the lieutenant she had put off earlier walked up. “May I claim my dance now?”

  Carrie smiled and graciously assented, but the magic of the evening had been lost for her. Cruel realities had dragged her back to the present.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Rose sighed wearily and pushed open the door to her cabin. The cool bite in the air said Moses would bring in an armload of firewood for the first fire of the year. The picture of flames flickering in the stone fireplace again made Rose smile. She had always loved this time of year. She enjoyed watching summer lose its hold on the land while fall moved forward boldly, painting vivid streaks through the trees and making the days cooler and shorter.

  She moved across the bare wooden floor, reached into a basket, and pulled out four ears of corn. Mindlessly, she began to shuck them. She wouldn’t take the corn out to the main cooking fire in the clearing. Tonight, she would wait and cook supper over their own fire. When the corn was ready, she cut two slabs of ham and mixed up some biscuits. It still amazed her they were eating so well. She had never seen the Cromwell slaves so healthy or so happy. They worked hard all day, but then the evening was theirs. Luxuriant gardens bordered each cabin and still produced fresh food for every table. They had built extra holding pens for hogs, and every family benefited.

  Rose sighed. If only it would stay that way. She knew it couldn’t, though. If the South won this war, Marse Cromwell would return, and with him a new overseer. There was no telling what would happen then. It was certain they would not operate with the newfound independence Carrie had granted them, though more work than ever was being done on the plantation. Rose knew their freedom would be viewed as a threat to white control and would be abruptly ended.

  If the North won the war, the future was just as unknown. Would the abolitionists have their way, or would the North continue to appease the South by letting them have their slaves? If they were all set free, life would change immensely. Rose was smart enough to see that. People who had been told what to do every minute of their lives would suddenly be responsible for their own actions.

  As Rose considered that, she could feel the old excitement growing within her. She didn’t hear the door quietly open or the footsteps cross the floor. Suddenly she was engulfed by a strong pair of arms.

  “Where are you?” Moses whispered teasingly in her ear.

  Rose smiled and turned around to kiss him. “Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.” Then she changed the subject, noting the pile of wood on the porch. “I’ll have dinner ready soon if you will build me a fire.”

  Moses finished eating and leaned back against his chair. “We brought in our first big load of beans and squash today. I think Carrie will have to start sending wagons in every other day for a while. With any luck, we’ll have three or four weeks of crops before the first hard freeze.”

  “The potatoes and carrots are ready, aren’t they?”

  Moses nodded. “Some of the women are working to put away all we’ll need here. It wasn’t much. This spring’s garden took care of that.”

  Rose looked at Moses’ face. She could tell he was content. He was doing what he had always wanted to do. Be a farmer. Watch the land produce food. Take part in the miracle of growth. Was he really ready to give it all up?

  “L
et’s talk about it,” Moses said suddenly.

  “About what?”

  “About whatever you’re thinking about. This has gone on ever since Carrie left for Richmond. You act like you’re in another world.”

  Rose smiled sheepishly. “I guess I have been.” She paused, gazing into the flames for a long moment. Then she turned to Moses. “I guess Carrie going to Richmond made it all real to me.”

  “About us leaving?” Moses guessed.

  Rose nodded. “I know she went to make arrangements for us. She didn’t say so - I just know it.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Is this really what you want, Moses?”

  Moses looked startled. “What do you mean? Are you asking if I really want to be free.”

  Rose nodded.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “You’re so happy now. You’re doing what you want to do. You can live your dream right here. It’s my dream that is going to take us away. I worry you will resent it.”

  Moses threw back his head and laughed.

  Rose frowned. She didn’t find her thoughts funny.

  Finally Moses stopped laughing and looked at her. He sobered instantly. “Rose, I don’t know what has gotten in your head, but you need to throw it right back out. You’re not seeing things clearly. Sure I can farm here, but that’s not my dream. My dream is to be free. My dream is to have my own land. Land I can do with whatever I want to. Land that will support my family. I’ll never have that here. And I could lose what I have here any minute. You know what Carrie’s father said. He wants me to come into Richmond next month. That means we’ll have to be apart - for who knows how long.” He stopped and stared at her. “Your dream is as important to me as mine is. Even if I could live my dream here, I wouldn’t. You got to make your dream come true, too. The only way for our dreams to happen is for us to be free. You know that.” He gazed into her eyes for a long moment. “Where are all these thoughts coming from? Are you getting afraid of leaving?”