Storm Clouds Rolling In & On To Richmond (Books 1 & 2 in the Bregdan Chronicles) by Ginny Dye - HTML preview

Chapter Six

July 10, 1861

“We’ll take care of everything, Carrie. Don’t worry about things back here.”

Carrie smiled. “I trust you, Moses. I know I’m leaving the plantation in good hands. It’s not you I’m worried about.” She paused for a moment. When she spoke again, her smile had been replaced by a worried frown. “I can’t get Louisa Blackwell’s visit out of my mind. She seemed to think the neighbors were upset by what is going on here—or what they think is going on, anyway. They’re bound to know I’m leaving the plantation for a while.

What if they come over here trying to start trouble?”

She could tell by the worried flicker in his eyes that Moses had thought the same thing, but his voice was strong and confident when he answered.

“Don’t be worrying none about things here. People have their own lives to worry about. They might be talking, but I reckon they have enough of their own problems to take care of without trying to make problems for us.”

Carrie tried to take comfort in his words. Sarah had tried to reassure her the night before with similar words.

Why couldn’t she let it go? “Oh, I wish Father hadn’t called me to the city!” she burst out. “I should have told him I was too busy to come right now.”

Rose walked out onto the porch just then. “You know your daddy, Carrie. He’s worried sick that something will happen and he won’t be able to take care of you. Sounds like from his letter that the first real fight of the war is about to take place right here on Virginia soil. He’s not going to be able to rest until he knows you are safe in Richmond with him. You can come back when the danger is over.”

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Carrie nodded but didn’t say what she was thinking.

When would she be able to return? When would her father think it was safe? That wasn’t really what was bothering her, however. She had faced her feelings in the long hours of darkness last night when she had lain sleepless. The truth was, she was obeying her father’s anxious plea to come to Richmond because she hoped for one last glimpse of Robert before he headed into battle.

That knowledge had filled her with both sorrow and self-contempt. It was she who had ended their relationship. She should just let it go.

Carrie gave Rose and Moses a final hug and settled herself into the carriage. “I’m ready, Sam. We should be on our way.”

“Yessum, Miss Carrie.” Sam raised his hands and urged the team of horses down the driveway. Once they were past the protective hedge of boxwoods, he turned and said, “I think you gonna be mighty surprised when you get to the city, ma’am.”

Carrie thought to ask him what he meant, but she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. She would find out soon enough anyway. She did have another question, though. “Sam, do you like being a driver?”

Sam shrugged and smiled a half-smile. “I don’t mind it none, Miss Carrie.”

Carrie watched him handle the team expertly and thought with sadness of her friend Miles. He had been a slave on Cromwell Plantation long before she was born.

The wise old man had taught her everything she knew about horses and had instilled in her his deep love for them. He had disappeared the year before with the first group of slaves who had escaped from the plantation. She still missed him.

“Do you think Charles found him?” She knew Sam would understand that she was asking about Miles.

Sam shrugged again. “I reckon if anybody could, Charles could.”

Carrie waited for him to say more, but the large man fell silent again. Why did she always feel like Sam knew more than he was saying? She pushed that thought aside as her thoughts returned to Charles. He had been Miles’

assistant and had taken over the stables when he

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disappeared. What he lacked in experience he made up for in commitment, but he had been one of the first to take her up on her offer to leave. She was glad to think he was free somewhere, possibly reconnected with the old man who had been like a father to him, but it had left a gaping hole on the plantation.

Sam glanced back to look at her. “What’s that worried look on your face for, Miss Carrie?”

Carrie answered honestly. “I’m wondering how long I’m going to be able to keep plugging holes. So far, Father isn’t suspicious because everything continues to run smoothly, but what happens when it doesn’t anymore? I don’t regret letting the people go,” she said hastily,

“but—”

“But you decidin’ to borrow trouble ‘fore it be here.”

“I guess you’re right.” She couldn’t let it go, though.

“What do you think Father is going to say when you come driving up with me, instead of Charles?”

Sam shrugged. “He’ll probably thank me for stepping in when Charles is so sick on the plantation and plan to give me an extra gift at Christmas time.”

Carrie looked up at his words, caught the amused twinkle in his eyes, and broke out into a hearty laugh.

“You always could make me laugh, Sam. Thank you.” The laughter seemed to ease the weight of her heart.

Feeling suddenly weary, Carrie leaned back against the carriage seat. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a deep sleep.

The sound of a train whistle woke her. Opening her eyes slowly, she suddenly jerked to attention. “We’re in Richmond, already?” she gasped.

“I’d say you needed to sleep,” Sam chuckled. “Yessum, we be here in Richmond.”

Carrie looked around her in astonishment. They had just entered the outskirts of the city. A quick look at the

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sky told her they had probably gotten here just in time.

The sky that beamed hazy sunshine this morning had now taken on a yellow-gray tone, and the air was stagnant with humidity. As they slowed to maneuver the traffic in the streets, the breeze that had been stirred by their movement died. The sultry air seemed to reach out clasping fingers to grasp at her. She immediately felt the unwelcome sensation of sweat trickling down her brow and back, and reached under the seat to pull out a parasol. It would at least offer some protection from the midday heat.

“Do you think we’ll get to Father’s house before the storm hits?” she asked anxiously. She was not adverse to a little rain, but the threatening sky promised a severe storm. She had no desire to dodge lightning bolts.

Sam cast a practiced eye to the sky. After a few moments, he nodded. “I think we’ll get there. Leastways, if the traffic don’t stop up completely.”

Carrie stared around her and saw that Sam’s concern was justified. “This is what you meant earlier when you said I would be surprised when we got here,” she guessed.

Sam, focused on navigating the bustling street, merely nodded. Carrie had never seen Richmond like this. There were people and carriages everywhere. She had expected, after Louisa’s report, to see soldiers everywhere, but though they were in evidence, there didn’t seem to be a preponderance of them. She quickly realized they must have all gone north to prepare for the battle her father predicted. Suddenly, she was very anxious to get to her father’s house. He would know whether Robert had gone to battle yet or not.

As they inched down Broad Street, she craned to catch a glimpse of someone she knew. Not that she really expected to see anyone, but the sight of a familiar face would make her at least feel she was in her favorite city.

Richmond seemed to have become a different world since she had been here last, less than three months ago.

Just as they drove past the train depot on Broad Street, an engine pulling its load of cars puffed up to the station. A great horde of people swarmed off the train, but very few people got on. The cries of carriage drivers vying for passengers filled the air as the rattle of wheels and the

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yells of people eager to reach their destination filled her ears. Carrie leaned forward to absorb it all, even though it frightened her a little. She had expected and grown accustomed to such madness in Philadelphia the summer before, but Richmond? The quiet, prosperous city on the James had exploded over night.

Rumblings of thunder over the cacophonous sounds of the city seemed to heighten the anxiety she felt in the air. Indeed, the whole city seemed to be gripped by a sultry spirit of fear and waiting that left no one the luxury of simply relaxing and living. Now that war had indeed come, it was all business, preparation and waiting—no matter what your position in life.

As Sam continued to inch down the road, Carrie realized what it was about the crowd of people that was bothering her. It was almost totally comprised of women, children and older men. The men were either quite old or dressed in the impeccable attire that spoke of a high government official. Other than the occasional soldier she saw moving down the street, the town seemed to be devoid of young men. That, more than anything, brought home the sharp realization of what this war really meant.

The young men of the South had marched off to do battle with friends and family from the North.

Now, each face became a story. Each woman was the mother, wife, sweetheart or sister of a soldier preparing to fight the first big battle. Children had brothers and fathers off at war. The older men had the responsibility of these young lives resting squarely on their shoulders.

Carrie shuddered and sank back against the cushion.

The excitement had lost its appeal for her.

It seemed hours before their carriage reached the bottom of Broad Street and headed up Church Hill to her father’s house. She turned her head away from the sight of St. John’s steeple reaching for the sky. It brought too many painful memories.

A jagged streak of lightning bolted across the now leaden gray sky. The wind was blowing fiercely, causing dust to fly through the air and laundry to dance on the lines. As she watched, one door on a house banged open as a plainly dressed woman dashed outside to scoop the

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dried laundry into her arms. Thunder rumbled, and the first raindrops splashed onto the carriage as they made the final turn onto Twenty-Sixth Street.

“Hang on, Miss Carrie!”

Carrie gripped the sides of the carriage and smiled as Sam urged the horses into a quick sprint. It was a good thing the storm had driven everyone inside. A wild dash like this could hurt someone, but Sam was just trying to keep her dry. Now that she knew they would make it to the house, she was able to enjoy nature’s fireworks show.

The wind felt wonderful after the cloying heat of the day.

Sam had just pulled the blowing team to a halt when the sky opened up. Huge raindrops descended on them in a downpour. “Run for it, Miss Carrie!”

Laughing, Carrie jumped from the carriage and dashed toward the house. As soon as she reached the porch, she turned to watch Sam maneuver the carriage down the drive next to the house. He would be safe and dry with the horses in the small barn behind the house in just minutes. Content to watch the furious lashing of the storm, she leaned against the porch railing of the three-story brick house. She ignored her drenched condition as she watched the trees bend and sway in harmony with the wind.

“Miss Cromwell!”

She turned at the sound of the startled voice and smiled at the anxious black face peering out at her.

“Hello, Micah.”

“I’se didn’t know you was here, ma’am.” Her father’s butler opened the door wider. “Come in, come in!”

Carrie cast one last wistful look at the storm and moved inside. Sam was just coming in the backdoor with her luggage. “Is Father here, Micah?”

“No, ma’am. He done sent a messenger a while back.

Said he done got to be in a meetin’. He’ll be home ‘round dinner time.”

Carrie glanced at the large grandfather clock that was just striking three. That gave her a couple of hours. She was anxious to see her father, but she was glad for the opportunity to take a bath. The long, dusty drive had left her feeling grimy.

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Carrie, freshly attired in a stunning yellow gown, was waiting for her father on the porch when his carriage rolled up. The storm had vented its fury and then blown further down the river. She imagined the plantation would be getting it soon. The storm had left in its wake a gloriously blue sky, swept clear of all haze and humidity.

The disappearing thunder clouds contrasted vividly with green trees outlined by bright sunshine. Carrie took a deep breath of fragrant air and hurried down the walk to meet her father.

“Carrie! It’s wonderful to see you. You look as beautiful as ever.” Thomas wrapped her in a hug and held her for a long moment. When he stepped back, his face was wreathed in smiles. He looked at her more closely. “No, I believe I was wrong. You’re more beautiful than ever.

You’re growing up my girl, and I’m missing too much of it.”

Carrie looked beyond the smile to the strained look in his eyes. “Nonsense, Father. You are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing. Virginia needs you. When all this unpleasantness is over, we can talk about leading a normal life again.”

“A normal life...” Thomas mused, almost as if he wasn’t sure such a thing could happen again. He shook his head. “We don’t need to stand out here talking. Let’s go inside. Dinner should be just about ready.”

Carrie was pleasantly full when she pushed away from the table and followed her father into the parlor. The curtains billowed as a steady breeze washed in over them.

The air, fragrant from the afternoon rain, felt wonderful.

She could feel herself relaxing as she sank back into the deep armchair. There had been little conversation during dinner as her father took the time to unwind after working all day. Now she wanted answers to all the questions swarming around in her mind.

“Is there really a danger to Richmond, Father?”

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Thomas nodded. “If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought you here. Our forces in northern Virginia are strong, but our intelligence says that the North’s General McDowell has created a strong army.”

“And you believe there will be a showdown soon?” Her father’s letter hadn’t said much other than urging her to come to Richmond as soon as possible.

Thomas’ voice was tight. “I believe there will be a battle in little more than a week. Several advances have been made, but the main force of the Union Army is still encamped in Washington. Our sources tell us there will be definite movement soon.”

“Your sources?” Carrie echoed.

Her father smiled grimly. “We need information. We get it any way we can.”

Carrie looked at him in wonder as she realized he was talking about spies. She couldn’t believe the United States had come to this. She was also reminded how utterly removed she was from what was going on in the country. The plantation had become her whole life. Oh, she got occasional newspapers, but fatigue kept her from staying abreast of all that was occurring.

“Why Manassas?” she asked, suddenly desperate to know more. “Didn’t you say that’s where you believe the battle will be fought?” She could remember passing through Manassas Junction on the train last summer on her way to Philadelphia. Her vague memories were of a pleasant little town. It was impossible to envision it as a battlefield.

“Virginia’s railroads are our lifeline. We have long known the strategic value of the Manassas Gap line. It very neatly connects the two major avenues by which we may be invaded.” Thomas’ face took on an intense look.

It was obvious that much time and energy had been spent on determining where the first great battle would happen.

“It is also the answer to rapid deployment of our troops. If Johnston is attacked in Harpers Ferry, Beauregard’s troops can be quickly moved to reinforce him. The same is true should Beauregard be the one to receive the first onslaught.”

“I’ve heard people say there won’t really be a battle.

That the North is bluffing and will back off when they see

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the South is serious.” Carrie didn’t really believe it herself, but, for just a moment, she was choosing fantasy over reality.

Her father’s grim words destroyed all such fantasizing.

“There will be a fight, Carrie,” he stated flatly. “We have over thirty-five thousand men prepared to fight an enemy we believe to be of about equal size.”

Carrie shuddered at the thought of what such forces could do.

Thomas continued. “We can win this battle,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes. “Beauregard is an excellent general. He has wonderful support. It has been hard work to transform thousands of farmers, shopkeepers and laborers into an army, but we have done the best we could in the time afforded us. Only time will tell if we have done a good enough job.”

Carrie didn’t know what to say. She felt no excitement over what was about to happen—only repulsion. And she could think of only one thing. Finally, she could stand it no longer. “Where is Robert?”

“Robert leaves tomorrow with the last batch of troops.

He has been working hard to train the newest recruits.

They are the greenest of the green, but they are eager to do battle.”

Carrie whitened and nodded.

Thomas looked at her for a long moment. “You love him,” he stated simply.

Carrie nodded again. “Yes, I do.” She didn’t even bother to deny it. Her father knew her too well. He would know she was lying, and it was time she told him the truth anyway. She had known this time was coming. It might as well be now rather than later.

“But you refuse to marry him.”

“You’ve talked to Robert?”

“I had dinner with him a few weeks ago,” Thomas admitted.

“Did he tell you why?”

“He told me you couldn’t marry him because you two stood so far apart on the slavery issue.” When Carrie merely nodded, he continued, his voice a little sharper. “I thought we had talked about that.” He paused. “I’m

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disappointed in you. It’s not like you to take a stand against something God so clearly sanctions.”

“I don’t believe that,” Carrie whispered. It hurt to know that he was disappointed in her, though. Fighting tears that wanted to spring to the surface, she tried to explain.

“I don’t expect you to agree with me, Father. I struggled long and hard to come to this decision.”

“How did you reach it?”

This time her father’s voice was quieter, more like the man she loved and knew so well. Obviously, he was trying to be fair, trying to listen to her. His earlier sharp voice had probably been the result of too many long, strained days. She hated to add more weight to the burden he already carried, but she knew it was time to be honest.

“Why do you feel God sanctions slavery, Father?”

“The Bible states it clearly.”

“Where?”

“You asked Robert the same ridiculous question.”

Carrie struggled to keep her voice even. “Why is it a ridiculous question?”

“Because you are trying to put us in the place of a minister. It is their job to interpret scripture, not ours.”

“But what if they’re interpreting scripture wrongly?”

“You think you know the scripture better than a minister?” Thomas’ voice had an edge now.

“I think I can read and understand as well as they can. Isn’t that why you had me educated? So that I can think clearly?”

“And now it comes back to haunt me!”

Carrie’s heart lightened as she heard the hint of humor in her father’s voice. They would not agree on this, but in the end, they would love and respect each other. “I guess that’s the price you pay,” she said with a smile.

Thomas chuckled. “You always were different from everyone around you. Okay, daughter, let’s tear into this issue.”

The lanterns burned low as Carrie shared with her father the experiences and thoughts of the past year. She struggled to relay how she had felt that day she faced her beliefs in the clearing. She had already decided not to tell him about the current condition of the slaves on the plantation, nor about Ike Adams—especially now that

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she was here in Richmond. If he took it in his head to send an overseer while she was still here, there was no telling what would happen. She wasn’t willing to take that risk. She was ready, though, when her father asked the question she had been expecting.

“How do you handle managing our slaves on Cromwell Plantation? Surely you know the plantation could not run without them?”

“They are not my slaves. They are yours. If they belonged to me, I would have already set every one of them free.” Her voice was soft but firm.

Thomas stared at her. “How can you say that? Would you honestly throw away everything you’ve ever known?”

“I don’t believe I would have to throw things away. I think things would have to be managed differently, however. The North manages to have a thriving economy without slavery.”

“The North is an industrial wasteland!” Thomas snorted.

“There are quite a lot of farms in the North.”

“Farms—not our glorious plantations.”

Carrie spoke carefully. “Glorious at the cost of stolen human lives.”

Thomas’ eyes flared with anger as he swung around in his chair and stared out the window. When he turned back, his face was calm once more. “I have only one thing to say,” he stated with somewhat forced amusement in his voice. “I’m very glad the slaves at Cromwell belong to me and not you.”

Carrie managed to laugh, wondering what would happen if her father knew that a number of his slaves were now free. She wanted to tell him how wonderfully the plantation was running with those slaves who had chosen to stay and who were being given incentives and freedom. Surely it would help him to see he might be wrong about the necessity of slavery.

Not yet, her heart cautioned. It’s too soon.

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