Songs the Soldiers Sang

by Bette McNicholas

  Laurel hadn’t been this excited in a long time. She hadn’t been old enough to attend any parties or balls before her mother became ill and never had a chance to own such an exquisite gown. She hurriedly tried on the wrinkled dress and Arielle helped her with the tiny buttons.

  “Stand back and let me take a good look.”

  After adding three crinolines, Arielle stood back once more to inspect the dress. “Perfect! All we have to do is have the staff steam out the wrinkles. Holt won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

  “Isn’t he your beau?”

  “Heavens, no. We’re just acquaintances. Actually, I don’t think he’s anyone’s beau. He’s made several trips to Port Royal since the end of the war and travels on the riverboat part of the way. He never talks about himself much.”

  Laurel swung around in front of the mirror admiring the beautiful garnet velvet dress. She worried that Junie would have a fit over the low neckline and the inserted Vee at the waist that accented her figure. This was the first time she had ever worn anything provocative; except for the costume. When she took a closer look, she realized she was a woman in every sense of the word, yet couldn’t believe she was the same person reflected in the mirror. She looked at her feet and exclaimed, “Oh my!”

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the way you look?”

  “Yes, the dress is beautiful but I don’t have any evening slippers. I guess I could hide my feet under the full skirts.”

  Arielle laughed. “Don’t be silly. I have some slippers you can borrow but they may be a little tight. Here, try these on,” she said, tossing one slipper after the other across the room.

  Slipping her foot into one of the slippers, Laurel stretched the soft kid leather slightly, and although the shoe was a little narrow, the length was perfect.

  “What do you think, Arielle?”

  “They’ll do just fine, only don’t dance if anyone asks, they may split at the seam. Besides, your feet may be too sore to dance.”

  “You don’t have to worry about my dancing, I don’t know how.”

  “You don’t know how?”

  Laurel shook her head. “I started to learn, but during the war there was never any reason or opportunity to learn.”

  Arielle promised to teach her to dance, but had to leave for a rehearsal and then an afternoon show.

  That evening, Arielle helped braid Laurel’s hair, then rolled the braid up to her neck, fastened it in place and tucked an artificial white flower in the roll for decoration. When the time came for Laurel to join the captain for dinner, Arielle shooed her out the door in time for her to change for the evening show.

  As Laurel entered the salon, her eyes widened with curiosity. She looked around admiring the beautifully decorated room in awe and felt as though she had taken a step into the past, when Junie would sit with her on the stairway at Mossland while they watched her parents’ guests arrive for a gala occasion.

  The walls of the salon were papered in red and white striped silk moiré, red cut-crystal globes covered the candles in sconces on the walls and the matching holders on the tables, and several huge brass chandeliers swayed with the motion of the ship causing reflections to dance on the ceiling.

  Eyeing the elegantly dressed and bejeweled women made her aware that if Arielle hadn’t loaned her the gown, she never could have mustered up enough courage to walk into the salon wearing one of her hand-me-down outfits.

  “Allow me, Miss Bray,” Major Flanagan said, offering Laurel his arm. His rich masculine voice startled and delighted her at the same time. She felt the heat on her cheeks, but managed to smile as she placed her arm through his, although not certain she had chosen the correct way.

  She looked up at him and felt the muscles in his forearm flex under the fine material of his jacket. Her lungs filled with air until she thought they’d burst, taking in his intoxicating, woodsy scent. His deep blue eyes twinkled with amusement under thick black eyelashes, and she admitted, his smile could thaw the coldest of hearts.

  As they made their way around the tables, Laurel noticed people staring and heard hushed whispers of admiration. Stares she assumed were for Major Flanagan. Holt held a chair for her, and the captain introduced her to his guests. However, with the exception of Mrs. Crowley, she couldn’t have repeated any of their names if she tried. The near presence of the major disconcerted her, and she felt overwhelmingly shy and awkward.

  Each time he spoke, she couldn’t keep from staring at him. His facial features and smile intrigued her. Whenever he caught her looking at him, she felt her cheeks flush, and she’d blink and lower her head. He had full lips that she was certain were warm and firm at the same time, and she found them quite tempting. She wanted to touch them with her fingertips and more than that she wanted him to kiss her.

  She couldn’t keep her gaze averted from his face. Something about this man caused unfamiliar sensations to charge through her body, that she could neither control nor identify. She had an unnatural desire to be close to him and wanted to know everything about him. The square lines of his jaw and the subtle scent of his skin tempted her to reach up and trace his face, memorizing every feature, as though she were blind.

  Warning signs flared within her, telling her that no matter how great her desires were, displaying those feelings to Holt Flanagan might prove to be dangerous. Taking heed to the warnings, she tried desperately throughout the remainder of the dinner to concentrate on the conversations around her. Soon, she discovered she could talk with the major with a little more composure than that of a smitten schoolgirl.

  She sat silently eating dessert and drinking coffee during the show, but when her new friend, Arielle, performed her solo, Laurel’s applause was overly enthusiastic.

  After the entertainment, the band began playing romantic music and couples soon crowded the dance floor. Holt leaned toward Laurel and asked in a whisper, “Would you care to join them?”

  Laurel was prepared for this question. She’d rehearsed the answer over and over again in her mind during the evening. But when he leaned toward her, his breath soft against her cheek, his leg lightly brushing against hers, sending a shiver through her body, the offer became too tempting to decline. She cleared her throat to be certain her voice still worked.

  “Thank you, Major, one dance. After that, I need to talk to Captain Crowley about my visit to Beaufort and our trip to Charleston.”

  Laurel had no idea what she had gotten herself into, and the moment they stepped onto the dance floor, she whispered, “I forgot, Major, I don’t know how to dance.”

  Holt smiled and said, “Relax and follow my lead.” He placed his hand on her waist and cradled her right hand in his as she automatically placed her other hand on his arm.

  “For someone who doesn’t know how to dance, you’re a natural…”

  He chatted the entire time they danced; all the while his gaze lingered on her eyes and held her captive. But she never really heard a word he said because thoughts ran wildly through her mind. She looked at him adoringly, unable to stop smiling, and wished with all her might that he would stop talking and kiss her. But the dance didn’t last long enough and she was disappointed.

  When Holt returned her to the table, he handed her to the captain and said, “Some other evening, perhaps.”

  The hint of other evenings together was not at all unpleasant to her. Surprising herself, she touched his arm. “You needn’t rush off, Major. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Are you certain, Miss Bray? I wouldn’t dare intrude on your privacy.”

  “Not at all, Major, please stay, unless you have other plans.”

  “Not at the moment,” he answered. Holt signaled their waiter and ordered brandy for the three of them. Stunned, Laurel looked first at Captain Crowley then at Holt, and said, somewhat embarrassed at her confession, “I’ve never had brandy.”

  “There’s always a first for everything.”

  “Now, Laurel,” Captain Crowley offered, “
take a few tiny sips, one at a time that is.”

  With wicked enthusiasm, the two men stared and watched her lift the crystal snifter to her lips. A tiny bit of the golden liquid reached her mouth, and she quickly pulled the glass away. With her tongue, she savored its sweet taste on her lips and declared, “I like the taste of brandy!”

  She raised the snifter again and accidentally took more than a sip, then swallowed quickly. Her mouth formed a circle, her eyes opened wide, and she placed a hand on her throat, “It burns!”

  While the two men tried unsuccessfully to keep straight faces, Laurel scowled at them. Their mischievous expressions softened her immediately, and she began to laugh with them.

  “Here, drink some water.” The captain said, a little nervously.

  Laurel obeyed and soon felt the burning sensation abate. She put her glass down and moved her eyes back and forth to one and then the other. “You’re like two naughty little school boys,” she scolded.

  Taken to task, they tried to look apologetic, but within seconds, the three of them were laughing again.

  Junie walked by the salon and peered into the clear oval of one of the frosted windows facing the deck, which Laurel noticed she had done every fifteen minutes during the meal. She smiled and nodded with satisfaction that Laurel appeared to be enjoying herself and looked pleased that Laurel was seemingly unaware of her watchful eye. But when she started to move away from the window, Holt flashed Junie a big smile and winked mischievously. As fast as her short legs would carry her, Junie rushed out of sight, shaking her head, obviously infatuated with the handsome major, Laurel thought.

  “Why do you refer to your mammy as, Ol’ Junie? Holt asked.

  A tiny chuckle escaped Laurel’s mouth and she blushed. “When I was a little girl, I always tried to hurry Junie to follow me. She’d respond, ‘Junie’s old.’ Then I’d ask, ‘Ol’ Junie?’ And Junie always said, ‘Yes, chile, Junie’s old’”

  Holt smiled and said, “I thought perhaps you called her that as a term of endearment, but I was curious.”

  Captain Crowley touched Laurel’s hand. “I wish I had been in Beaufort the day before the invasion. I would have waited for you and taken you and Junie and the house servants on the ship, but I was up around Augusta and hadn’t heard any rumors that the Yankees were planning to invade the island in order to plan a siege on Charleston. You must have been terribly frightened.”

  Laurel nodded. “The most difficult part was not being able to at least bring Reba and Paul with us. There simply wasn’t enough room in the boat. I was grateful that Mrs. Barnwell thought of me, remembering that Mother had died and Daddy hadn’t returned home.

  “We did something I will never forget. Mrs. Barnwell ordered her slave to stop rowing the boat once we were away from the land. He rested the oars and we drifted for a moment, waiting with great anticipation. And, as if on cue, the sky lit up and we all gasped.”

  “What happened?” Holt asked.

  “I had ordered our foreman to burn the cotton. The flames rose high in the air, swirling like a tornado as the wind carried them farther and farther toward heaven. Huge clouds of black and white smoke stung our eyes. The crackling intensified with each gust of wind and debris rained down on the land.”

  Laurel looked at them and grinned. “An entire year’s work. The largest crop of the most desirable King cotton sacrificed in order to keep the Yankees from confiscating the precious commodity. At the time I thought what a terrible waste, but have had no regrets.”

  “You were very young to have shouldered that responsibility.” Holt tightened his lips, then said, “What a terrible experience, Laurel. I hope some day, when this country heals its wounds, someone will record these stories.”

  Clasping his hands in front of him on the table, Captain Crowley said, “Captain Henson told me about your dad being missing when he made arrangements with me to take you and Junie on as passengers. You know I’ll do anything I can to help. Now, tell me what you found out about your father. Anything encouraging?”

  ****

  Holt watched as the luster that shone in Laurel’s amber eyes moments before simply disappeared. He listened attentively, hoping he could think of some way to help in the search for her father, although from what he already knew he thought the task was futile. He appreciated why she’d cling to every conceivable hope that her father might still be alive, but he believed she was chasing rainbows.

  He learned a little of her childhood and the changes brought about in her life with the illness and subsequent death of her mother, along with her father’s disappearance, and stared at her expressions intently while she told them about the brutal existence she led while homeless and in exile during the war.

  He wondered how horrible and frightening that must have been for a young girl of thirteen, with little money and no means of support. He certainly admired her stamina.

  He got cold chills when her situation reminded him of his daughter, Jacqueline. He wondered what might have happened if he didn’t have any family and had to go off to war, leaving her behind with a nanny. She didn’t have a mother; never even had a mother’s love. Would his daughter have been able to survive if she was forced to flee their home? Did she have the inner-strength to be able to exist running from the enemy and scavenging for food? The thoughts were frightening and he sat and stared at Laurel, praising her ability to endure such overwhelming hardships.

  His heart ached for her, and she intrigued him because she had a spirit that was alive and through all that she suffered, still had the courage to live and the unlimited strength to search for her father.

  When he thought about her father, he was convinced he had been killed. How could any father not return to look for his child? Certainly, if her father had lived through the war, he would have known the Sea Islands had been invaded. He would have been concerned for his daughter’s welfare, not knowing what might have happened to her. Was she still alive? Where was she? What other reason, other than he had been killed, would there be for his not returning to Beaufort to look for her?

  He thought the story of her visit to her childhood home and discovering that the property had been sold a travesty of justice.

  “No one in Beaufort has seen or heard from my father,” Laurel continued. “But I did get the name of a man who had also served under General Beauregard. According to the records at the Government Army Headquarters, this man was sent home on furlough the same time as my father. He never returned to his unit either and had been listed as missing until after the war when he was released from a prison in Delaware. I don’t know how he ended up in Delaware, or why General Beauregard never mentioned him, but I intend to visit him. He lives in Charleston.”

  “If that falls through, and he doesn’t know anything, what will you do next?” the captain asked.

  Lowering her eyes and sighing, she shook her head and answered, “I don’t know. I guess I’ll go to Maryland, move into my grandparents’ house, and see if I can find employment. And, as soon as I can afford to travel, I’ll go to Washington and make some inquiries. I intend to write to all the prison commanders and hospital administrators, and hope someone will recognize my father from the descriptions and information I send.”

  Holt and Captain Crowley were silent. Holt watched as Laurel looked at them, frowning as she studied their expressions. “You think I’m foolish to believe there’s a chance he’s still alive, don’t you?”

  Reaching for her hand, Holt said, “I think that as long as you have strong feelings your father’s alive you should exhaust every possibility. You won’t be satisfied until you have an answer. I can help you when I get back to Washington. I have connections with the War Department.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, Major. How can I ever thank you?”

  He smiled. “You can call me Holt.”

  “Thank you, Holt. You may call me Laurel.”

  “Would you allow me to escort you around Charleston, Laurel? I know the city well, and I’d like t
o help you in your search for your father.”

  He kept the look on his face and the tone of his voice soft, for her to recognize his words were a genuine offer of friendship. He wanted to think that if this were his daughter, someone would be kind enough to offer to help her. And he wanted to be with her in case she received the devastating news her father had died. He couldn’t forgive himself if she had to go alone.

  “I’d be pleased to have your help, but I don’t want to cause you to change any of your plans.” She said, squeezing his hand.

  “That’s not a problem. I have to meet a friend for lunch tomorrow, but I know George would be delighted to have you join us.”

  “Then I accept your offer, especially if you know your way around the city. Junie has a difficult time moving about and this would enable her to stay on board and rest.”

  At that moment, the dining salon aboard the Carolina Queen suddenly came alive with noise and excitement and the late evening entertainment began.

  “I see that the roulette table’s opening.” Holt stood up, took Laurel’s hand, and kissed her fingers lightly. “I’ll meet you on deck tomorrow morning after we dock in Charleston. Good night and thank you for a delightful evening, Laurel.”

  Holt left Laurel with Captain Crowley and headed for the gaming tables.

  One thing he was sure of, he knew his way around Charleston all too well. Seeing the city again would be painful. Perhaps with Laurel along to keep his mind occupied, the visit would be less disturbing. In spite of all she’d been through, there was something distinctly fragile about Laurel that convinced him he didn’t think she would be able to find her way on her own without a problem because the streets in the town were laid out like a labyrinth.

  He thought about Charleston often. The old city was steeped in traditions. Its people represented a mixture of social classes and values, considered to be a cosmopolitan city—a commercial center. And, even amidst its destruction, the town had remained active and alive.