Spring Will Come

by Ginny Dye

  “I’ve been waiting for this!” Colonel Rooney Lee, General Lee’s son, exclaimed.

  “Those boys are going to be mighty surprised to find us on their side of the lines,” his cousin, Colonel Fitz Lee, agreed with a grin.

  The line of cavalry moved forward quickly, easing through woods and past open fields where young corn pushed toward the sky. They were greeted warmly by citizens who had not seen Confederate gray for over a month.

  “Billy! Billy, it’s you!”

  Robert watched as a young soldier broke from the ranks, sprang from his horse, and wrapped a laughing woman in his arms. The reunion lasted just for a moment, though. After kissing her cheek, he turned, vaulted back into the saddle, and galloped to retake his place in line.

  “I love you, Billy. Take care of yourself, son!” the weeping woman called after him.

  The rest of the morning passed rather uneventfully. The few Federal outposts they discovered were easily overrun. The Yankees seemed to have no desire to take on an outfit so much more powerful than their own. They either scattered or were taken as prisoners.

  Robert was in front with a unit as they neared Haw’s Shop. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of blue. At the very same moment, a surge of Federals came forward with a roar.

  “Form fours! Draw saber! Charge!” Stuart commanded.

  Granite sprang forward at Robert’s command as the Confederates swept forward. Robert watched, a little bemused, as the Union soldiers dashed almost to the front of the column, fired a shot or two and then veered off.

  The only result was a few captured Yankees who had been dismounted when the attack took place. The rest of the soldiers had made good their escape. Robert ground his teeth in frustration even though he knew the mission was going extraordinarily well. He longed for a confrontation that would result in a glorious victory, not these aborted skirmishes by the Union. A ruckus over to the side drew his attention. “What’s going on?” he asked a man watching the proceedings with a grin.

  “Colonel Lee done caught some of his old friends over there!”

  “What?”

  The man nodded. “Sure enough. Some of those men we just captured used to serve under the colonel when he was in the U.S. Cavalry. They sure look glad to see him. He seems mighty pleased to see them as well.”

  Robert watched in amazement as Colonel Lee sprang from his horse and exchanged handshakes. Laughter rang through the air as they talked. All he could do was shake his head. No one would ever believe the captured, laughing troopers and the smiling young colonel represented opposing armies mustered to slaughter each other.

  Their first serious opposition came when they reached Old Church. They knew that this, if anywhere, was where the Federals would offer serious resistance because wagon trains carrying supplies to the Union troops north of the Chickahominy River would have to pass that point. Robert watched one of the scouts race up to General Stuart. Seconds later the order came.

  “Charge!”

  As Granite leapt forward, Robert could only surmise Stuart had just received word of a force waiting for them and was doing what came naturally to him. Advancing on the offensive. Unsheathing his saber, Robert leaned forward low over Granite’s saddle. The blood raced through his veins as he caught his first sight of the enemy ahead. He was perhaps ten columns or so back when the units met.

  Bedlam reigned as swords met pistols in a loud clash. Dust swirled through the air as yells and shouts exploded all around. Robert saw an opening and surged through, his saber drawn and ready. Just as he broke free he saw the Federals spin and take off. Reluctantly he pulled Granite in and sheathed his weapon. He stared after the retreating bluecoats for a long minute and then turned back. There were several dead on the ground, but all of them seemed to be Federals. Then he noticed a knot of men standing on the ground. He frowned and rode over quickly.

  General Stuart was just catching up with the regiment. “Who is it?” he asked sharply.

  “Captain Latane, sir,” one trooper quickly replied. “He was shot, sir. But not before he badly wounded his assailant with his saber. He’s dead.”

  Stuart nodded shortly and turned to ride off, but not before Robert caught the look of sorrow on his face. He knew the general had wanted to pull off his mission with no deaths. It was only one, but he knew how much Stuart cared for the men under him. Even one fatality would be hard for him to bear.

  Just then Colonel Lee rode up. “Let me go after them, sir. They’re my old regiment. I’d like to be the one to rout them.”

  Stuart nodded immediately. “Go ahead. But do what you have to do quickly. We need to push on.”

  As Colonel Lee’s regiment galloped off, Stuart called Robert over to join in a meeting.

  Robert waited expectantly with the other officers to ascertain their next move. Surely they had accomplished their objective. The right flank of McClellan’s army was woefully weak. If this was where General Lee wanted to mount his offensive, it was a good decision. Robert’s guess was that they would turn back now.

  “We will continue on,” Stuart said firmly. “The enemy expects us to return the way we came. They might even now be burning the bridge across the Totopotomoy River. If they’re quick, they will have a force waiting for us back at Hanover Courthouse.”

  Robert stared at him. There were twelve hundred cavalry troopers well behind Union lines. What did Stuart presume to do with them?

  The general’s answer came quickly. “We’re going to go all the way around them,” he said with a quick grin. It only grew wider as he took in the looks of astonishment from the men surrounding him. Not waiting for comment, he quickly outlined his plan. “We’ll continue on and go through Tunstall’s Station. From there we’ll move on to the Chickahominy River and cross over. Then we’ll follow the James back up to Richmond.”

  The men were quiet as they absorbed the startling news. Finally one man stepped forward. “We’re going to Tunstall’s Station, General? Don’t you think it will be heavily guarded? The York River Railroad is McClellan’s main line of supply. Their main depot is only a few miles away.” His voice indicated he doubted the wisdom of his commander’s decision.

  Stuart nodded. “It will be risky, but I think we can do it,” he said confidently, his gaze sweeping the knot of men and challenging them to share his confidence. “We might even be able to tear up some of that railway. Think of it! If only for a day - if only for an hour - we might be able to separate the Federal army from its base of supply!” He laughed and then grew serious. “I know it’s risky, men. But we have speed and surprise on our side. From Tunstall’s Station, it’s only eleven miles to the Chickahominy. Once we cross there, I don’t think there will be a threat.”

  Again there was silence as the men contemplated what he said. The same man who had questioned him spoke again. “If you see fit to go on, General, then I’m going with you.” A murmur of agreement rose.

  “Thank you, men.” Just then Colonel Lee rode up with a flush of victory on his face. Stuart turned to him. “I take it your expedition was a success.”

  Colonel Lee nodded. “The camp was deserted when we found it. We knew there was not much time, so we put fire to everything we found there. Picked up a few more prisoners but nothing beyond that. Those boys evidently were not eager to be in the same vicinity as us.”

  Robert laughed along with the rest of the men. Tension gripped him at the thought of staying behind Union lines, but it was the kind of bold move he admired.

  Another of the men spoke up. “I think the quicker we move, the better.”

  His wry tone sent them into more laughter, but soberness returned quickly. What they were attempting was dangerous and risky. Any of a hundred things could go wrong. Their best defense was to move quickly before McClellan could pinpoint their position and send a strong force after them.

  Within a short period of time, the column was once again on the move. It was late in the afternoon when they drew near to Tunstall Station. Stu
art gave his command. “Charge!”

  Robert was alert but surprisingly relaxed as the cavalry once more thundered down the road. It was becoming obvious no one in the Union army had ever anticipated an attack from within, and behind, their own lines. The small units defending each outpost scattered before what they knew was a superior force. As long as they kept moving fast, they might just actually pull off this bold, crazy maneuver.

  As expected, the Federal units guarding the train station at Tunstall fled. Some were captured. Others disappeared into the woods.

  “Do your work, troopers!” Stuart commanded with the wide grin Robert had become accustomed to.

  With a glad yell, the troopers scattered to their designated duties. Robert vaulted out of his saddle and sprang to join the men tearing up the railroad. If they succeeded, they would separate McClellan’s army from its base. His heart pounded with excitement as they reached the tracks. As they reached it, he saw one of the men disappear into the woods. Robert knew he was on his way to set fire to the bridge across Black Creek. The scouts moved forward with axes to chop down the two telegraph poles nearest the station. The remaining troopers, still mounted, cheered and called encouragement as they kept guard for approaching troops.

  Suddenly a shrill train whistle split the air. Immediately all action ceased. From the boldness of the whistle blast, the engineer could not possibly be aware the station was in the hands of the Confederacy. Robert turned with the rest of the men toward Stuart.

  “Lieutenant Borden. Throw that switch. We’ll derail the train!” he yelled excitedly.

  Robert sprang forward as Stuart continued to shout orders. Within seconds, nearby men were hurling obstructions on to the track. Limbs, rocks, anything they found were heaved in a desperate attempt to block the track before the train reached them.

  Robert raced for the switch but groaned with dismay when he saw the heavy lock holding it. He looked around quickly, grabbed a large bar of iron, and began bashing the lock. A quick glance told him the rest of the troopers were being hurried into ambush covering alongside the tracks. They would open fire if the train stopped or left the tracks. Sweat poured down his face as he pounded at the lock, but it did not budge.

  “Forget it, Lieutenant,” Stuart called. “The train is almost here. Remount and prepare for battle.”

  Robert threw aside the bar and sprang for Granite. He was barely in the saddle and moving toward cover when the train - a locomotive and a string of flatcars loaded with soldiers - roared around the curve. Had the engineer spotted them? Robert held his breath as the engine continued to slow. A smile spread across his face as it drew almost to a halt and several Union soldiers stepped off.

  Bang!

  Robert groaned as a pistol shot exploded in the stillness. There had been no order given to fire yet. Someone had gotten too excited. Now, there was no choice but to press the attack.

  “Fire!” Stuart’s voice boomed a second later.

  “Rebels!” one of the startled Federals yelled. At the exact same moment, the engineer put on full steam, and the engine began to pull away from the station.

  A barrage of gunfire exploded from the railroad right of way. Robert watched in grim satisfaction as Union soldiers dropped from wounds or either threw themselves face first on the boxcars to avoid the fire. A single horseman broke from cover and raced alongside the train. At a full gallop, the horse drew even with the engine. Robert heard the gunshot and saw the engineer slump in his seat, but the speed of the train continued to increase. Within moments it was out of sight. Wild cheering followed it.

  When the celebrating ended, Stuart reluctantly gave the order to press on. Robert understood his reluctance. Their mission so far had met with nothing but success. How tempting it must be, knowing they were only four miles from White House, the main supply depot, to make that their next objective. If it was destroyed, the Federals would be forced to retreat. Robert smiled as he thought of what a coup it would be for twelve hundred cavalry troopers to force a hundred-thousand-man army to retreat. His smile disappeared quickly, however. General Stuart was making the best decision. White House would surely be better defended than anything they had approached so far. If they were to end up in a stiff battle, McClellan might have time to send in reinforcements that would close off their line of retreat. They had accomplished their objectives. Now it was time to get out of there.

  Robert was sure the long night would never end. The cavalry had the advantage of a bright moon to light the road, but exhaustion dogged them every step of the way. There could be no stopping or rest. There was no way to know how close behind them pursuing troops may have been. Horses stumbled wearily as men nodded into sleep, almost falling off their horses in their futile attempts to gain some much needed respite. In order to keep up the needed pace, prisoners rode double on the mules they had captured. There was little talk as the line crept determinedly on.

  Robert fought sleep by thinking about Carrie. Her face rose before him, her beautiful eyes shining with love, giving him confidence. He could hardly wait to tell her all about this mission. He knew she would rest her chin in her hand and absorb everything he said. He still could hardly believe Carrie loved him. He had vacillated between rage and grief when she had turned down his proposal of marriage because of their differing beliefs about slavery. An entire miserable year had passed while he tried, to no avail, to erase her from his mind and heart. That he was hopelessly in love with her, he could not deny. Robert had vowed not to talk of marriage until the war was over, but there was not a day that passed without dreams of living his life with Carrie at his side.

  Suddenly he frowned. He realized there were still many obstacles confronting them. If there was anything left of his plantation after the war, all he wanted to do was go back and rebuild. Carrie was determined to be a doctor. How would they achieve both those things? His plantation was in the South. The only place Carrie could find a medical school that would accept women was in the North. Questions rose up to taunt him as fatigue blurred his eyes and mind.

  How would they resolve their differences about slavery? He had learned to respect what Carrie believed even if he could not believe it himself. He knew there was no way he could run the plantation without a large number of slaves. How could he give up all he had ever wanted and dreamed of because Carrie believed slavery was wrong? She had made it clear she would never own a slave. Robert ground his teeth in frustration. He could see no way to solve the dilemmas facing them. Yet there was no other choice. He loved her completely and could not imagine living his life without her permanently. Somehow they would have to find a way.

  The bright moonlight created a milky corridor as the horses wound their way through thick woods and across open fields. Moonlight caught on leaves tossing gently in the breeze, casting off creamy sparkles. A sea of stars twinkled their defiance at the world below. Robert gazed around, astounded there could yet be this much beauty in a world so crazy and hate-filled. The beauty seemed to call to him, seemed to pull him in as he crept along. Slowly the confusion of his questions melted away to be replaced by confidence. He was too tired to question it. Gratefully he let the confidence seep in and fill him with a new strength he could not identify.

  Suddenly Robert recognized the strength. It was the same strength he had experienced when he had somehow managed to pull himself from a ditch just before a wagon crashed down on top of him. It was the same strength he had felt on the bitterly cold battlefield when he had been full of despair and hopelessness. Somehow he knew the strength he was feeling was the presence of God. Somewhere in the last year of war, he had stopped denying the presence of God, but he was still incapable of understanding it. His heart told him God loved him, but Robert couldn’t fathom why. Silently he stared up into the heavens. He had no idea how to put his feelings into words.

  The clatter of rapid hoof beats roused Robert from his thoughts. Startled, he straightened and automatically reached for his saber. Had the pursuing Union troops caught up
with them? Gradually he realized the hoof beats he was hearing belonged to just one horse. Relaxing a little, he watched as a lone horseman dashed toward them from the direction they were headed. It could only be a scout sent ahead to report back to Stuart.

  It was not long before Stuart called his group of leaders together for a conference. “One of my scouts lives nearby. Forge Bridge has been burned out.”

  Robert’s heart sank. Crossing the Chickahominy was their chance to get away from whatever might be pursuing them. Had they come this far only to be trapped?

  Stuart smiled, but exhaustion lined his face. “He knows of a shallow place where we can ford the river. It will save us many hours of work if we don’t have to rebuild the bridge. Once we reach the river, we can all gain a little rest.”

  The sun was just dimming the glow of the moon when the front guard of the cavalry reached the place where they were to cross the river. The men stopped and stared at the raging water wordlessly. Was this the easy crossing that had been described to them?

  Robert frowned as he looked at the wide, swift, evil-looking water that had exploded far from its banks. He knew what had happened. Spring rains in the mountains had turned the normally placid Chickahominy into a raging torrent. There was only one way to find out if the ford was nothing more than a death trap.

  Robert vaulted from Granite’s back and stripped his uniform. He handed Granite’s reins to a nearby trooper and walked resolutely toward the water. No one tried to stop him. Someone would have to determine if the ford was crossable. The lives of twelve hundred men depended on it. Stopping just long enough to take several deep breaths and stretch his cramped muscles, Robert forged into the water. He was prepared for a battle, but the actual force of the river shocked him. He was a powerful swimmer, but the river seemed determined to conquer him.