by Marian Wells
“Even a person without military training,” he exclaimed, “can see the indecisiveness of the Federal Army. I can see nothing except that delay is causing losses that are horrendous.”
“Here’s a comment by a newspaper man describing Bloody Lane,” Amos said, looking over the newspaper. “Says Confederate soldiers dropped like grass behind a scythe.”
“Thee had best put away the newspaper for now,” Sadie gently said, “or thou shalt not have a stomach for thy supper.”
Amos caught her eye. “’Tis already that state. We need to bring this terrible war to the God of the universe and let Him hold it. ’Tis a gentle, untouched land we have right here, and we’re to be grateful for it—but let us not forget.”
****
A week later, Beth came into the house, her face ashen. “Olivia, they’ve posted lists of the dead and injured. It is terribly long. Tomorrow the stores will be closed so that everyone can hear the names read.”
“We will go,” Olivia murmured, touching the girl’s shoulder.
When they rode into town the following day, they found the green around the church packed with people. There was a cold wind blowing, and the crowd pressed close to each other as they pushed against the crude platform.
Beth looked around sadly. “And to think less than a year ago we were having a frolic here to raise money for the soldiers going to fight. Now look at this crowd. They’re all old, and very sad.”
As she spoke, Olivia noticed two ragged youths pushing in through the crowd. Hearing the excited voices surrounding the lads, Beth stopped and strained to hear. “I recognize that fellow,” Beth whispered. “I thought he was in the army.”
The youth was speaking. “We were there. But that was enough. Soon as it was over we skedaddled. No more war for us.”
“Me and Tim here were right up front,” his companion said. “It’s God’s miracle we weren’t killed. Sure wasn’t anythin’ that McClellan or Burnside did.”
“Tell me,” came a tremulous demand, “how do you think we’re going to win this war if you lads don’t stay in there and fight?”
“How we gonna win unless we get a general who’s not afraid for his skin? McClellan’s afraid of his shadow. Fiddles around with his papers but never gets down to fighting. You don’t win a war without getting in there and doing something besides talk.”
“Now Mac,” his companion admonished, “that’s not the whole story. They’re saying sometimes he gets information in those papers that scares him outta trying.”
The old man shook his finger at the youths. “A body without the gumption to go out there and charge right in and give it to them don’t have no business undertaking anything more serious than milking cows.”
“Tell me,” another voice rose, “is it true the soldiers are demoralized?”
“We were like whipped dogs after Bull Run,” answered the first.
“But not now,” the fellow called Tim replied. “We were ready and impatient. Man, if they’d just taken the stops out, we’d have let them have it.”
“That so?” The man looking at them had an empty sleeve, and the scars on his face were still red. “I didn’t share your bravery; neither did the men around me. Sure, I know we had a reputation of going into battle eager to kill all the Rebels, but that’s not so, at least not in the regiment I was in. There was plenty of brave talk, but when it came down to having bullets flying around our heads, we spent more time ducking than shooting.
“There’s an additional fear—” The man paused and his lips twisted. “A fear that our buddies would see us as bellowing babies. It does something to a fellow when those bullets get mighty close. Might say it makes the trigger finger work better.”
“At least,” Tim said, “those Confederates weren’t in any condition to fight. They were walking skeletons; their uniforms were in rags and some didn’t have shoes. How they managed to fight is more’n I know.”
A woman spoke up. “You men are harsh. I believe McClellan is kind and considerate of his men.”
“Lady,” the man with the scars said, “McClellan isn’t hired to tuck his men in at night; he’s hired to whip the Confederates. Personally, I’d like to get this war over and get on with living.”
Three men wearing black suits marched to the platform. Beth watched them divide the long sheets of paper. One stepped forward. “The following is a list of the missing and presumed dead or held as prisoners. If your loved one has not been exchanged within one month’s time, you may conclude that he is a part of the group deceased.”
Beth’s face grew pale as she considered what the grim man’s statement meant. She hadn’t heard from Roald in over a month. He’s dead, she thought, her hope completely gone.
Later, after the sun had set, the final list of names was read by the light of a lantern. The reader concluded by saying, “With God’s help, we’ll never again find it necessary to read such a long list.”
****
That night Alex held Olivia as if he would never let her out of his arms again. “Alex,” she whispered, “I know it’s getting more difficult for you. I want to hold you here forever. But women do have babies without their menfolk around. Go on, deliver your soul, and I’ll be here when you come back. We will be here.”
“It’s a burden,” he admitted, “an obligation that becomes heavier. But also, it’s as if the deciding step was taken when I picked up the first load of slaves on the Golden Awl.”
She nodded against his arm. “You struck a blow at the institution of slavery. Now you must finish what you’ve begun.”
****
The next evening Beth came into the house and dropped the newspaper in front of Alex.
“A proclamation of emancipation; Lincoln’s issued it. Now what’s going to happen?”
“You don’t sound very happy about it,” Alex said as he picked up the paper.
“Of course I’m not. Never did I believe it would come to this.”
“What did you expect, Beth?” Alex asked with a puzzled frown. “The North has never denied that Lincoln doesn’t believe in the expansion of slavery.”
“Expansion?” Beth exploded. “This is freeing every slave in the states where the people are said to be in rebellion. They aren’t in rebellion; they’re trying to be free!”
“And you’ve had hopes for them, haven’t you?”
“Most certainly,” she snapped.
“If that is the case, then the proclamation is just about the worst thing that can happen for you, isn’t it?”
Suddenly Olivia straightened in her chair. “Beth, how could you have considered marrying a man fighting for the Union? If you feel this strongly about slavery, how could you marry someone who feels just the opposite?”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t believe that love is impossible under these circumstances.”
“Unless you believe that love is more than romance—regardless who you marry, Beth, you’ll have to live with his values. I don’t believe I could do otherwise, without feeling I am compromising myself.”
“Compromising? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Violating a principle inside that is more important than my personal happiness.”
“I suppose,” Alex said softly, “each one of us has something which we would be willing to die for. She’s talking about that.”
Beth glared at him. “You’d be willing to die for the slaves?”
“And the Union.”
“How can you say that? It is impossible to make such a choice and really mean it. I’d never willingly die for anything.”
Alex frowned. “For a soldier in wartime, it seems there are only two alternatives. You either choose to die for a cause, or you die unwillingly without a cause.”
****
The day before Alex left for Washington, a letter came from Crystal. She had written:
Dear Ones,
This will be brief, because I’m in a fuss over packing, and also because I don’t know whether the
re’s any possibility of your receiving this letter. Matthew and I will be coming to Pennsylvania as quickly as possible.
We love you,
Crystal
Olivia dropped the letter and flung her arms around her husband. “Oh, Alex! Our prayers have been answered. Matthew and Crystal are together again! I can scarcely wait to see them.”
She buried her face in his chest. Our prayers are answered, she thought, but Alex won’t be here to see them. He kissed her and said, “That nearly makes it possible to leave you without a worry. How good God is to give us this!”
Chapter 26
Outside the farmhouse bare branches whipped in the wind. Slowly Olivia wrote:
My Dear Husband,
How I long for the sound of your voice. It seems forever, but I suppose it is the same for you. October is nearly finished and our baby is growing. I am starting to feel his little fists and feet pushing against me. How I wish I could share this time with you!
Olivia dropped the pen and got to her feet. Sadie glanced at her and continued to count stitches. “Thou art restless?”
“I wonder if Alex is well,” Olivia mused. “Why have they sent the men so far away? I’d hoped to have him training at home, although he says they are doing little training. They talked about building fortifications, but he didn’t say where. Sadie, do you get the idea that they must be moving all over?”
Sadie nodded. “Likely. When he mentioned being in Washington for a time and then talked about New York state, I felt that way.” She eyed Olivia. “If thee feels like sewing, there’s bits of flannel in my room. ’Tis enough for several little gowns.”
“I need to move around. Shall I peel potatoes?”
“If thee wishes—” She cocked her head. “I believe I hear a carriage.”
Straightening her full, loose apron, Olivia walked toward the front door just as the rap came and the door was pushed open. For a moment Olivia stared at the laughing face. “Crystal!” She grabbed her, reaching a hand to Matthew as he came through the door. “Oh, how wonderful!” She leaned back to look at Matthew’s smiling face; quickly kissed him and turned back to Crystal. Hugging her again, she whispered, “Oh, how beautifully God has answered our prayers! Please come tell us about it.”
Crystal’s eyes widened. “Olivia, you’re going to have a baby! I shall be an aunt. Oh, Matthew, isn’t it wonderful?”
He grinned, hugged Olivia, and asked, “Where’s Alex? I must congratulate him.”
Olivia caught her breath. “He’s left to join the army. Last month. He’s in Washington now. At least I think so. Every time I get a letter it’s from a different place.”
Matthew’s face was grave. “Has he been in battle?”
“No, not really a battle. There have been scouting expeditions and other—maneuvers, he called them. I have the feeling they’re headed for battle, simply because he said so little.” She sighed, smiled at the two of them, then said, “Crystal you look wonderful. And Matthew, you are so thin.”
“He’s been in battle. He’s still recovering from a terrible injury to his arm. Remember Amelia? Her daughter and husband rescued him. I’ll tell you all about it later. Where are Sadie and Amos?”
“Sadie’s probably gone to the barn after Amos. Come back here and I’ll fix tea.” Olivia paused. “Did you say Amelia’s daughter? Well, you can tell me later. I want to hear all about you two.”
Sadie and Amos came through the kitchen door just as the others reached the keeping room. With Sadie beaming and blinking through tears and Amos thumping Matthew on the back, they sat down at the table.
“Thou art refreshing to weary hearts,” Sadie said. “And thou must tell us all about thyselves.”
Crystal threw a glance toward Matthew, and he nodded and smiled at her. “You tell it, my dear.”
“I know Matthew’s story as well as my own,” she said softly. “He was coerced into joining the Confederate Army. He was sent to Texas and later was involved in the one battle that took place in the Far West, in New Mexico. He was injured and simply walked away from the army. Later he traveled to the Colorado Territory with some people he met in New Mexico. By the Lord’s providence, he was in Denver while I was there.”
“Just after we were married we’d discussed the possibility of moving to Colorado Territory,” Matthew added. “When I ended up in the Confederate Army in Texas, I thought of those talks, little knowing Amelia had provided the pull to get Crystal there.”
Beth came in as the evening shadows began to darken the room. Amos put another log on the fire, and Beth rubbed her cold hands as she stood close to the fire and listened.
Crystal finished her story and said simply, “I suppose being separated as long as we were helped us sort through the important and unimportant things in our lives. Knowing God in a deep way made it possible to forgive each other, and this also helped us make the decision to come back. It just seemed to be the thing to do.”
“I intend to join the army,” Matthew interjected, “this time on the Federal side. I feel I have a double portion of wrongs to right.”
“Matthew,” Olivia protested, “you must not feel that way. You didn’t willingly join the Confederates. You never told our parents about this, did you? I’ve questioned them about you in letters, and they were very evasive. Mentioned only that you’d left home early in 1861 and they hadn’t heard from you since that time.”
Matthew flushed. “I suppose it’s best to say I was bitter, and just leave it at that. Certainly, once this situation has been resolved, I’ll try to make amends.”
He moved restlessly around the room, and Amos asked, “So you had a stint with the Confederates. Do you think you can easily join the Federals now?”
“It hasn’t occurred to me that they won’t have me,” Matthew said. Grinning suddenly, he added, “I doubt they ask very many questions when they sign a fellow up. I’ll just be happy to serve anywhere, doing anything.”
Olivia glanced at Crystal and saw the yearning in her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “Oh, Crystal, I feel the same way. I’m so lonely for him, but it will help to have you here.”
“I really want to stay with you,” Crystal said, biting her lip, “but right now I have another worry. I haven’t heard from my mother for several months. I know that the Union captured New Orleans in April of this year. Mother wrote quite a detailed letter then. It sounds as if it’s a very difficult situation down there. Neither the Federal soldiers nor the people of New Orleans have been happy with each other. Mother’s last letter indicated she isn’t well. I’m going to make an effort to visit her as soon as possible.”
“Crystal, my dear,” Matthew protested, “give yourself time to rest after this trip. Also, we need to be absolutely certain travel will be safe for you.”
“You aren’t going, Matthew?” Olivia asked.
“No, we’ve agreed it’s best I join the army as soon as possible. But there’s another reason.” He threw a quick glance at Olivia. “Frankly, I don’t want to head down the Mississippi. The fellows in my regiment were from that area, and considering the way I walked out of the battle, I’d just as soon not see them right now.” His grin twisted as he added, “I’ve already spent more time in the Confederate Army than I’ve cared to.”
Sadie appeared in the doorway. “Matthew, carry your bags to the second room down the hall on the west. Olivia is in your old room. Crystal will want to freshen up, and supper is nearly ready to serve.”
Beth followed Sadie into the kitchen. As she sliced bread, Sadie commented, “Beth, ’tis the first time I’ve seen the cat get thy tongue.”
She looked startled. “Oh, I was thinking about Crystal. She’s not all white, is she?”
Sadie turned to stare at Beth. “So? Dost thou think that makes a speck of difference around here? Missy, it will make thee appear much more charitable if thee fails to notice color in this house.”
Carrying their luggage, Matthew led the way up to their room. Crystal hesitated whe
n she reached the top of the stairs. She turned slowly to look at the railing, then glanced down the steep pitch of stairs. Matthew carried the bags into the bedroom and returned to the hall. “You’re thinking of that day I left you?” he asked gently. “I’d give anything to spare you the memory of that day,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Matthew,” she whispered. As she turned, he touched her cheek. Looking up, she saw the dark shadows in his eyes. “Please, my dear Matthew, don’t look like that. I’m not blaming you. It was my fault from beginning to end. I was deceitful, and I can only blame myself for the pain both of us have endured. If I had only told you the truth about myself from the beginning—”
He opened the door to their room. “I knew if we came here we’d be dragging at painful memories. But Crystal, the past month has been beautiful. Do you suppose it will help us get through the bad times now?”
Running her hands down the lapels of his coat, she smiled up at him. “One of the things I was thinking out there in the hall is that if the foolish girl I was back then could have seen where her deceit would lead, she would never have acted in that manner.”
“My dear, I believe you are too hard on yourself. But that’s behind us,” Matthew whispered. “We can’t waste time thinking about it. Perhaps we ought to promise to never again refer to that painful time. With the war facing us, you know as well as I that the present is going to be difficult enough. But someday—”
“The war will be over and life will be normal.”
****
One afternoon the following week, Crystal came out of her room, hesitated before Olivia’s closed door, and tapped, “Olivia, if you don’t want to be disturbed, I’ll come back later.”
“Come in, Crystal; I can’t sleep.”
Crystal looked at Olivia’s reddened eyes and went to sit on the edge of the bed. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Just feeling sorry for myself. It’s been two-and-a-half weeks since I had a letter from Alex. I suppose he’s simply without means of getting a letter posted. But I worry.”
