by Marian Wells
“South Carolina!” Reingold looked surprised. “Of all places, that will be the most difficult. I can give you suggestions, but I’m wondering what you hope to accomplish by wasting yourselves this way. Secession is a reality; a few people won’t turn the tide now. Why aren’t you in the army? Surely that would be more effective.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Sir, I’m not certain that’s the way the Lord wants me to fight this whole situation. I believe the slaves must be freed, and I believe the Union must be held together for the sake of the people—all of them. But it appears to me that to go out and shoot a man won’t solve anything.”
The man settled back in his chair and tented his fingers. “I agree. Thank God I’m too old to fight. At least this is a decision I needn’t struggle over. Young man, I hope you find the answer within yourself, because it’s easy to see you’re miserable with it now. And your grand designs to pull the Unionists together and put backbone into them—I’m not so certain it will work.”
“There seems to be a trend to allow the loudest voice to make decisions for the people. It happens in the North, too,” Alex added hastily. “I think that’s wrong. I’ve a conviction that if enough people are encouraged to organize and stand up for their true feelings, perhaps it will make a difference in several states.”
“You’re probably right. And who knows, that opinion might make a difference, especially in the western slave states.” Reingold straightened and leaned forward. “Unfortunately, when some of us get past fifty, we find it hard to be idealistic to the point that we’ll take to the streets to push our cause.”
He paused. “You might be interested in this tidbit of news. I’ve been hearing reports coming out of Louisiana indicating that in the past several months there’s developed a dissatisfaction with the Confederacy. Some of the leading people of the state who voted for secession are now strongly for the Union.”
“I’ve been hearing that Missouri, Tennessee, and Kentucky have large segments of their population who are for the Union,” Alex interjected.
“That is so, but take Missouri, for instance. The state’s become fragmented by internal fighting and guerrilla warfare. Those Unionists may find their timidity is keeping them alive. I certainly can’t recommend going there. If you did raise a following, it could be fatal to the handful of Unionists there.”
“What about Kentucky and Tennessee?”
He sighed. “Tennessee seems to be pretty much in submission to the Confederacy. From the reports I’ve heard, I don’t believe they are all happy with the situation. Kentucky is divided between Union and Confederate. I believe things are under control right now, but there’s been enough fighting in the state to indicate the people are strong in their individual loyalties.”
For a moment the man was silent. Olivia watched his brooding eyes. Finally he sighed and sat up. Smiling gently, he said, “You are brave people; I know you’ve had to face opposition to do what you believe is right. I want you to know there are many who are suffering over this situation, and their hands are tied too. One of my acquaintances is a special friend of General Robert E. Lee. He told me of the agony the general faced.
“Lee has been against slavery for many years; in addition he’s been a firm Union man. Now, since the secession, he’s begun to realize his roots are embedded, even entwined in the state of Virginia. My friend tells me it was a matter of extreme agony for General Lee to realize he couldn’t do any less than support the South. Long after calling slavery a moral and political evil, he made a statement that is now branded on my mind. Lee said, ‘I foresee that the country will have to pass through a terrible ordeal—a necessary expiation, perhaps, for our national sins.’”
Reingold got to his feet and looked at Alex. “Young man, I understand your reluctance to fight in any way other than this, but don’t let it be an excuse. General Lee is truly a man of God. I wish you could meet him and hear from his mouth the reasons he has for fighting. I don’t fully understand it. Perhaps it’s a calling—a calling to die for the things we hold most dear.”
He turned toward the door and stopped. “I must warn you, the railroad beds are in terrible condition. No matter which direction you travel, it will be difficult. However, from the reports I’ve received from northern Virginia, it will be virtually impossible for you to get out of the state by traveling that direction. I suggest that you travel west. I have passes prepared for you. From Kentucky you’ll be able to go north.” He smiled briefly. “If nothing else, there will be time enough while you’re waiting on trains to do a great deal of talking with the people you meet.”
As he let them out, he said, “There’s a final thing you should remember: The Unionists in the South largely hold Lincoln responsible for the war.”
Olivia and Alex walked quickly back to their hotel. When Alex closed the door to their room, he said, “My dear, after listening to Lawrence Reingold, I don’t believe it will be necessary to contact the rest of the people on the list.”
Olivia whispered, “What do we do now?”
Alex paced to the window and back. “Reingold mentioned Kentucky. He also told us it’s impossible to travel north through Virginia because of the poor condition of the railroads. There’s enough military activity between here and Washington to make me doubt the wisdom of taking you that direction, anyway.”
“It’s starting to sound as if it’s best to travel west,” Olivia murmured. Flicking the newspaper with her finger, she added, “Nearly every day we hear of problems along the coastline or in the mountains in western Virginia.”
She smiled and put her arms around Alex’s neck. “It doesn’t matter; we’ll be together. Alex, do you think we’ll ever be able to settle down to living a sedate, normal life?”
“Might be when we have several little ones, we’ll be glad to settle down. I watched that woman in front of us as we came back to the hotel…”
Olivia laughed. “With the three children hanging on to her skirts and a baby in her arms? But she looked happy,” she admitted. “And she was delighted when you fussed over the baby.”
Alex bent to kiss Olivia and nuzzle her ear. “Don’t forget,” he murmured, “in the Lord’s good time—” She tightened her arms around his neck and hid her tears against his coat.
****
At the train station the conductor fingered their tickets. “Going for a ride through the mountains? Mighty pretty; might even see a touch of snow.” Returning the tickets, he said, “Good idea—you going this month instead of last. The Yankees were trying to take over the whole railroad line. Didn’t last long though—it’s mighty rough terrain to fight a battle on. No matter; travel in these times is hard. More’n once I’ve had to dump passengers so’s the army can travel. Have a good trip.”
Several hours out of Richmond, after they settled into their seats, Alex said, “This is the route I hoped Mother and Father would take, through Roanoke into the mountains. So we’ll get to see the area, even though winter isn’t the most desirable time of year for a visit.”
“I wonder, would it have been different for your mother if they’d come here last summer?” He shook his head and took her hand in his. She observed the strong line of his mouth, the gold circle embedded in his ear, and the dark beard that hid his clenched jaw.
He leaned close. “Do you approve of what you see?” he teased.
“I was thinking how gentle your lips can be. Yet you look so stern right now.”
His eyes twinkled. “My dear Mrs. Duncan, you surprise me! No matter, at least you know I’m putty in your hands. Now enjoy the scenery or I shall steal a kiss when no one is looking.”
“What were you thinking?”
“That perhaps we’ll run into a spot of trouble. There was a weary, ragged-looking detachment of Confederate soldiers marching—if it can be called such, through that cornfield.”
A new awareness lit Olivia’s face as she began to comprehend their situation. “We’re getting into the area where there has been fighting.
What happens if—”
“There are villages all along here; that’s encouraging. The most that will happen is we’ll be detained.”
She nodded mutely, but somehow her heart was not reassured.
Chapter 17
The news Alex and Olivia gathered from talking to others on the train did not sound promising. Everywhere, the South seemed to be arming for battle, and traveling was nearly impossible.
It was late when they left the train at Bowling Green, but even in the dim late January light, it was easy to see that the largest number of people on the streets were gray-clad soldiers.
Alex turned to Olivia. “I’m going to inquire about trains. Much as I dislike traveling at night, if there’s one going through to Paducah, I believe we’d be wise to take it.” His mouth twisted. “Seeing those soldiers, I don’t believe there’s a forum for my ideas tonight.”
She slipped her hand through his arm. “I’ll come with you. I don’t want to be left for a moment, and certainly I don’t look forward to staying here tonight, either.”
The station agent looked at them strangely. “Paducah? That section of the line isn’t in operation north of Union City, by order of the army. The Yanks have taken over Paducah, and it seems the two armies aren’t on friendly terms.” A shadow of a smile touched his eyes and Olivia wondered why he was amused.
“If you want to get to Paducah, I’d suggest taking the local stage to the Tennessee River and ship down to the Ohio. There’s a boat going down shortly after noon tomorrow. Stage leaves here at six in the morning.”
They checked into the hotel. When they reached their room, Olivia looked wide-eyed at Alex. “How are we going to get home?”
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.” He patted her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. “If nothing else, the army will find a way to get us across the river. On the Illinois side we can take a train home.”
****
Shortly after noon the following day, the stage reached the river. But when Alex and Olivia reached the wharf, the boat they were to have been on had become merely a dot in the distance downriver.
Olivia scanned the sleepy group of buildings and the two small boats rocking gently in the backwash of the steamer headed for Paducah. “Alex, I think we’d better find someone to talk to. There’s neither a hotel nor a place to eat.”
Alex pointed to the trim little tugboat docked just below them. “First I’m going to see if that fellow’s headed toward Paducah.”
At the end of the wharf a man leaned over the rail, smoking a cigar and staring upstream. Alex called to him, but the man didn’t move. Alex walked to the end of the wharf. “Sir—Captain, may I come aboard?”
The man’s head came up and he turned. For a moment he frowned at Alex and then he glanced Olivia’s direction. “What’s your business?”
“We need to ride to Paducah. I’ll be happy to pay you double fare if you can take us this afternoon.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted. “Better double that again. There aren’t any hotels around, and I don’t see a wagon.”
Alex grinned up at him. “You got me there. Name your price.”
The man pushed his cap to the back of his head, leaped to the wharf, and sauntered toward them. He turned to drop his cigar in the water, then stepped closer. “Mind telling me what your business is in Paducah?”
Alex hesitated. “I understand the town is in Federal control. We want to contact some people who live about fifteen miles inland. A farmer named Stevens.”
Slowly the man shifted his weight from one foot to another, then he reached for another cigar. “Do you have travel passes?”
“Yes.” Alex took them out and handed them to the man.
“Been in Richmond, huh? You aren’t planning on going across the Ohio, are you?”
Alex gave the man a quick look, and said evenly, “Certainly not right now. We’ve further business in Kentucky.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Alex regretted them. Suddenly the tugboat captain became very interested. The gray eyes turned cold. He straightened his shoulders. “If I were to refuse you, I’d lay myself open to letting you slip through my hands. I—”
A thump sounded on the wharf behind them and Mike Clancy came across with an outstretched hand. “Alex Duncan! Olivia, ma’am, what a surprise!”
He turned with a grin. “So you’ve already met General Grant—” He fell silent as he looked from one face to another. “Did I interrupt something?”
Grant sighed softly. “Might say so. He’s been beating the bushes trying to stay hidden. Mind introducing your friends? I’d decided they were spies. Maybe when you finish talking, I’ll can you, too.”
“Alex, Olivia, this is General Ulysses S. Grant of the United States Army.”
Alex heaved a sigh of relief. “I thought my past had caught up with me.”
“Sir, this is Alexander and Olivia Duncan. They sound Southern, but well—” Mike grinned. “Maybe I should explain. Sir, you didn’t ask me what I did before the tugboat came into my life.”
Grant’s face was stolid. “I’m asking.”
“We’ve been running slaves up into Canada. Part of the Underground Railroad.”
“I suppose that makes you acceptable.” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “But one thing. Don’t get the idea I’m abolitionist. Those guys have been a pain in the neck—to both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. My job is to hold the Union together, and right now that involves fighting this war to the finish.” His jaw jutted out.
“Sir, I’m happy to make your acquaintance,” Alex said. “Also, I apologize for calling you captain.” He glanced at the man’s rumpled dungarees and oil-stained cap.
Grant turned. “We’ve got to get this thing moving. “Mike, is Foote ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
Grant waved toward the boat. “Come along. We’ve got a mission to accomplish this afternoon. I have an idea it will be to our advantage to have the Duncans aboard, especially if Mrs. Duncan is very visible once we head up the river.”
“Me?” Olivia cried.
Grant grinned. “Ma’am, you are temporarily in the employment of the United States government. I’m pleased to have you aboard. Come meet Commodore Foote, who is in charge of this expedition.”
“Yes sir, General Grant,” she smiled as Mike pulled the gangplank into position and offered his hand. “So you’ve been piloting this boat, Mike?”
Alex followed, dropping their trunk and valise on deck. Mike turned to point. “Take your baggage into this cabin. Fortunately it won’t be as crowded as it was on the Golden Awl.”
Alex looked around curiously. “I’d heard the Mississippi was closed to traffic, and I wondered what you were doing.”
“Been taking barges down the Ohio—oil, coal, whatever. Come up to the pilothouse. Foote’s been looking over the charts while I’ve worked on the steam gauge. It was stuck.”
Halfway up the stairs he paused. “You’ll enjoy meeting Foote; he’s a Christian gentleman, and a good seaman besides.”
General Grant had preceded them to the pilothouse. He and Foote turned with a smile as Alex and Olivia followed Mike. Commodore Foote held out his hand. “You two are a very welcome addition to our crew. Let me get you some coffee and we’ll explain it all.” His eyes were still twinkling as he handed coffee to Olivia. “Sorry this isn’t tea, ma’am, but you see, we just didn’t expect you.”
“If Mike hadn’t come over the rail when he did,” Grant rumbled, “I’d have fed them to the fish.”
Alex chuckled. “Sir, if I’d any idea who you were, I could have saved us all a few tight moments.”
Commodore Foote bent over the chart table. “Don’t think you need to know anymore than this—” He cocked his head. “Full ahead, Mike. The steam’s up, and there’s no reason to delay.”
As the boat moved away from the wharf, Foote said, “Alex, we were on our way up the Tennessee River. Need to take a look at Fort Henry.”
“I’m in the dark,” Alex murmured.
“Come here.” Foote pointed to the map. “See these two rivers? The Tennessee and Cumberland, nearly parallel each other. At this point, just over the Kentucky-Tennessee line, the Confederates have built two forts—I should say, they are building two. Right now they are only partially completed and armed. We need to take a good look, see what we’re getting into. Understand?
“The Tennessee flows north into the Ohio at Paducah. We’re going upriver, away from the mouth.”
Olivia nodded and returned his smile. She liked this man, who explained things clearly without condescending.
Foote glanced back at Alex. “Having your wife along will make it much easier to appear casual about this reconnaissance,” Foote commented. “Not too often do pleasure trips transpire in tugboats. But then, attractively dressed women don’t usually ride on such vessels, either.”
“Whatever the reason,” Olivia said, “I’m enjoying being back on a boat again. It’s nearly like coming home.”
“Are you by chance a pilot?” Foote asked Alex.
“I have my license, but not for large vessels.” Before Olivia turned back to the window, she caught a glimpse of the studied expression on Commodore Foote’s face.
General Grant moved from the window to the table. “We’ll move full power ahead until we reach the border, then we’ll assume the relaxed manners of sightseers.”
“It’s late now,” Foote murmured, checking his watch. “If we don’t have good daylight, we’ll lay over until tomorrow.”
Grant glanced up. “Might be a good idea. That would give us an opportunity to check out Donelson, too.”
“What is Donelson?” Olivia asked.
The men looked at each other, and Grant answered, “Another fort, sister to Fort Henry. It’s located about fifteen miles east of Henry, on the Cumberland River.” Grant paused. He seemed lost in thought, then he turned to Alex. “I know you have questions. What I’m telling you is information that is not known beyond this circle. I feel it’s better to answer the questions now rather than allow you both to speculate. Sometimes the most innocent information serves disloyal ears.”
