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

Chapter Thirteen

Carrie gazed up at the tall brick walls of the former Harwood Factory. The building on the southwest corner of Twenty-Sixth and Main Streets had been a tobacco factory until recently. The first commandeered tobacco warehouse had proven too small for the number of prisoners taken, so the adjacent building had been put into use for the Union officers. The scent of tobacco was still very strong. Carrie had gone into the warehouses with her father often. She knew the rooms were large and airy. She also knew the windows were open to the elements.

“Stop here, Micah,” she ordered as they came even with the large doors. She jumped out of the carriage, clutching the papers that would grant her entrance to the prison. It had taken both her father and Governor Letcher to make this visit possible. Without their influence, she would have been laughed out of the prison if she had dared approach it.

Just as she stepped down, a long line of carriages made their way slowly up the street. A score of young ladies peered out and up at the windows of the prison.

Carrie could hear them as they rode by.

“Why, wouldn’t it be just awful if one of those Yankee officers were to look out the window right now?” one asked in a contrived voice of horror.

“Why, you know how improper it is for a Southern lady to look upon the face of one of those foreign devils!”

another exclaimed in mock horror, just before she looked eagerly toward the windows. Her disappointment at not seeing any faces was obvious.

Most of the ladies were much more discreet, hiding their faces behind their fans as they cast sideways glances at the building. A couple of the women noticed Carrie stepping from her carriage. “Driver, stop!” one of them commanded. She spoke to Carrie. “Are you really going into that prison?” she asked.

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“I am.”

The fashionably dressed woman stared at her for a long moment. “Haven’t I seen you before? Is your father involved in the government in some way? Surely I’ve seen you at one of the dances?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Carrie said. It was obvious the other woman did not approve of her going into the prison. She smiled and began to move toward the door.

“Have a nice day,” she murmured as she edged away.

She could hear the woman’s voice behind her. “Well really! You would hardly think one of our very own would be pandering to Union prisoners. What in the world is possessing you to go in with those Yankee devils?” Her high voice rose shrilly as she hurled her question after Carrie.

Carrie held her head high and continued to walk steadily toward the door. She had tried reasoning with prejudice and hatred before. If she had thought it would do one whit of good, she would have turned around and talked to the woman, but knowing that it wouldn’t, she chose to ignore it.

A scowling young man opened the heavy wooden door in response to her knock. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

he asked in a gruff voice.

Carrie eyed the young man dressed in his Confederate uniform. “I have come to visit one of your prisoners.”

The guard laughed. “Our prisoners ain’t taking no visitors, ma’am.”

“One of them is,” Carrie responded. “I have a letter from General Winder giving me permission to come in.”

The guard’s attitude changed abruptly. “General Winder? Let me see that.”

Carrie handed him the sheet of paper. Her father had told her no visitors were allowed with the prisoners, but somehow Letcher had talked the superintendent of the prisons into writing this letter. It certainly paid to know people in the right places.

“Right this way, ma’am. You’ll need to meet Lieutenant Todd.”

Carrie followed the man to a small office set off to the right of the hallway. As she entered, a tall, stringy man

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rose to his feet. Her eyes went at once to the garish tattoos on both arms. Obviously the man had at one time been a sailor.

“What’s this woman doing in my prison?” he snapped.

“She has a letter from General Winder saying she can visit one of the prisoners, Lieutenant.”

“Let me see that thing,” he snapped again, reaching for the letter. He scanned it quickly and then looked up with a scowl. “Which one do you want to see, Miss Cromwell?” he asked, his voice reflecting a little more respect but still heavy with what Carrie could only identify as bitterness and anger. Immediately, she felt sorry for the prisoners in his care.

“I am here to see Matthew Justin.”

“His commission, ma’am?”

“I don’t believe he has a commission, Lieutenant Todd.

He is not a soldier.”

Todd scowled again. “Oh, you mean that journalist fellow, don’t you?”

“Yes, I believe I do.” She managed to keep her voice calm and pleasant.

Lieutenant Todd looked at her more closely and then jerked his head toward the guard. “Go get Justin. She can visit him in the room down the hall.” He turned back to Carrie. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take your bag, ma’am. I can’t have you taking anything in to one of the prisoners.”

“That’s not a problem, Lieutenant.” She handed it over with a smile and stood waiting.

Todd stared at her again before he spoke. “Do you mind me asking why you are here to visit a Yankee prisoner, Miss Cromwell? It is obvious your father is important in the government if you were able to get a letter from General Winder.”

“Mr. Justin is a family friend. My father would have come as well if he could have gotten away from his duty.”

Todd scowled. “Don’t you mean he was a family friend? How can you possibly claim someone as a friend who is bent on invading the sacred soil of the South?”

“He is a very special friend, no matter what side of this conflict he is fighting on. May I remind you, Lieutenant, he is not a soldier—he is a journalist.”

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Todd stared at her with open suspicion. “There are people here in Richmond that would take your actions as evidence of sympathy amounting to an endorsement of the cause and conduct of these Northern vandals.”

Carrie wanted to laugh, but she held her tongue.

General Winder’s letter would get her in whenever she wanted, but she didn’t want to cause trouble for Matthew.

She sensed Lieutenant Todd could make life very difficult for those he didn’t like. She spoke carefully. “I assume you are a religious man, Lieutenant Todd?” Her question seemed to have caught him by surprise, because he didn’t answer right away. Just as well. “Don’t you agree with me that love is the fulfilling of the law of God?” she continued in a pleasant voice. “You know, Lieutenant, if we want our noble cause to succeed, we must begin with charity to the thankless and the unworthy. I am merely trying to do my duty toward God.” She tried to keep her voice soft and gentle. It would not do for the laughter bubbling just below the surface to boil over. He would know she was merely pandering to him.

“Well...” Lieutenant Todd looked at her for a long moment.

“The prisoner is in the room now, sir,” the guard announced from the door.

Lieutenant Todd snapped his lips shut as if he were glad not to have to answer. He moved to take his seat behind the desk. “Take Miss Cromwell to the room. You have thirty minutes, ma’am. That’s all.”

Matthew was sitting behind a long wooden table when Carrie entered the room. His clothes were dirty and rumpled, his long red hair lay limply on his shoulders, but his bright blue eyes still sparkled, and his face lit up with the same boyish grin when he saw her enter the room.

“Carrie Cromwell,” he exclaimed as he jumped up from the table.

Carrie glanced up at the guard, who quickly read the look on her face.

“I will be just outside the door, ma’am. I wouldn’t try anything tricky if I were you,” he warned before he turned

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and left the room, pulling the heavy door shut behind him.

Only then did Carrie turn to Matthew. “Matthew Justin,” she said warmly, reaching out with both hands.

Matthew came from around the table, his body still as tall and muscular as usual. She was glad to see he had no injuries.

“Carrie, how did you find me here?” he asked immediately.

“I was on my way back to the plantation yesterday and had to drive by here. I happened to get caught up in the parade of people coming to see the prisoners,” she said with a smile. “When I looked up and saw you peering out one of the windows, I almost fell from my carriage. I turned around immediately and went back to my father’s house.”

“Your father, how is he? I’m sure he is still grieving your mother.” Matthew paused. “I think often of the wonderful Christmas I spent at Cromwell Plantation. It seems a lifetime ago. I find it impossible to believe it was only seven months ago.”

Carrie nodded. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said, thinking back to that magical time before their world fell apart. “My father is doing well. He sends his greetings and says he will come visit as soon as he can. He was shocked to hear you are in prison.”

“Your father... Can he…?”

Carrie shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid there is nothing anyone can do right now. It seems as if no one was prepared to have prisoners. It is all so new that no one knows what is going to happen. My father talked to Governor Letcher on your behalf, but he was able to offer no help either. I’m sorry, Matthew.”

Disappointment clouded his even features for a moment, but he forced a grin. “I got myself in this mess.

I’ll have to be patient, see what happens, and make the best of it.”

“How did you get yourself in this mess? You’re not a soldier. How were you captured?”

“The same way our dear Mr. Alfred Ely found himself a guest at this wonderful hotel.”

“Alfred Ely?”

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“A congressman from New York,” Matthew explained.

“There is a congressman from New York here as a prisoner?” Carrie gasped in disbelief.

Matthew nodded with a wry expression on his face. “I believe there is one other civilian besides us—a banker from Washington. The rest of my roommates are all officers in the Union Army.”

“So how did it happen?” Carrie asked again.

Matthew shrugged. “The paper sent me out to do a story.” He stopped to look at her. “I couldn’t fight, Carrie.”

Carrie nodded. “I got a letter from Aunt Abby. She told me.”

“You received a letter from Aunt Abby?” Matthew asked incredulously. “The mail is being delivered here?”

“Well, of a sort,” Carrie said with a grin. She held her hand up in protest. “I asked my question first. I’ll answer yours later.”

Matthew grinned. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, I was sent out by the Enquirer to cover the big battle. We had been assured the victory would be fast and easy. I thought it odd that so many spectators had come from Washington to watch, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. They parked their carriages and spread out blankets to picnic on. Wine flowed freely and everyone was quite excited about the prospect of seeing the Union soundly beat the South.”

“They must have been quite disappointed.” When Matthew looked at her sharply, she knew he was wondering where she stood on everything. She was still too confused to know her own mind, but she knew Matthew would always be her friend.

“They were more than disappointed,” Matthew replied.

“In the end, they were absolutely terrified as our troops swarmed past and through them in an absolute panic.

All anyone could think about was getting away, but the roads were clogged with traffic and overturned wagons.

And still, fleeing soldiers kept racing by.” He paused, remembering. “I was doing my best to cover the story, trying to talk to everyone I could. Finally, I knew I had to get out of there. About that time, a couple of soldiers racing by grabbed my horse and took off on him. Then I

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saw a group of soldiers stumbling toward me. Two of them were badly hurt. I couldn’t just leave them.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was trying to help when the Confederate troops captured us. Now I’m here.”

Carrie looked at him in sympathy. How like him to sacrifice himself to help others. “I’m sorry.”

Matthew’s eyes clouded for a moment and then his ever-present grin broke through. “I’m going to have one heck of a story when I get out of this place.”

“I imagine you will.” Carrie laughed. “Are they treating you well here?”

“It’s not so bad, I guess. The floor gets hard at night, and I’m already tired of gristly meat and doughy bread, but at least we have a place to sleep and something to eat. I never really imagined being a prisoner would be a pleasant experience.”

“Lieutenant Todd doesn’t seem like a very likable fellow,” Carrie commented, then told him some of what she had told Todd in his office.

Matthew roared with laughter before he sobered. “One of the saddest things about this war is how it divides family. I’d say Lieutenant Todd is one for the books, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Matthew looked at her. “Don’t you know who he is?”

Her blank expression answered his question. “Doesn’t the name Todd ring a bell with you? Like maybe the maiden name of President Lincoln’s wife?”

“Lieutenant Todd is President Lincoln’s brother-in-law?” Carrie gasped.

“The same,” Matthew said with a grin. “It’ll make a great story one of these days.” He sobered. “Have you heard from Robert?”

Carrie shook her head. “Not directly.” She told him the story of meeting with Hobbs. “I’m sure Robert will want to see you if he gets back into Richmond.”

“Maybe,” Matthew said dubiously. “This war seems to wreak havoc on old friendships. They don’t seem to stand up to the strain of divided loyalty.”

“This one will,” Carrie declared. “Robert would never turn his back on your friendship.”

“You seem awfully sure of your man, Carrie.”

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Carrie paused. “He’s not my man, Matthew,” she said softly, forcing the words around the lump in her throat.

Matthew sat staring at her. “He loves you, you know.”

Carrie nodded. “And I love him, but I turned down his proposal of marriage in May.”

Matthew whistled but didn’t comment.

Carrie continued. “We stand too far apart on certain issues.”

“Such as slavery?” Matthew guessed.

Carrie nodded, struggling to hold back the tears that sprang to her eyes at Matthew’s obvious sympathy.

Matthew waited a long moment before he said anything. “Robert has only ever known one way of life. It’s going to be hard for him to see things differently, but I trust his heart. I don’t know what it will take, but I have a feeling you will be together one day.”

Carrie longed to take hope from his words, but she also didn’t want to hang on to a fantasy. “We’ll see,” she said finally.

The door cracked open. “You got five more minutes,”

the guard said.

Carrie pulled herself back to the present situation.

“I’m going to try to get someone to bring you some things—fresh food, clean clothes.” She quickly explained Opal’s presence in Richmond. “I’ll find her today and ask her to visit you. General Winder was kind enough to add her name to the letter. I have to get back to the plantation,” she explained. “I wish I could stay longer, but timing is rather critical.”

Matthew eyed her for a moment. “Are you as torn by this conflict as I am?” he asked.

Carrie nodded. “Yes, I am. I find my heart torn on almost a daily basis. The South is fighting a war I don’t believe in, largely over an institution I don’t believe in.

Yet, my father has thrown his whole heart into it, and people I care about deeply are fighting and risking their lives for the cause. It is so confusing.”

Matthew nodded. “Thank you for being honest. I imagine your position is not extremely popular around here.”

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Carrie grimaced. “I find I hold a lot of opinions that are not very popular.”

Matthew laughed. “That’s why you and Aunt Abby hit it off. You’re too honest to let public opinion determine your own beliefs.”

Carrie brightened at the idea of being like Aunt Abby.

It helped to remember she wasn’t alone. “I remember something Aunt Abby told me once. She said the world was too full of people willing to put out their thinking the way they do their washing—to be done by others.”

Matthew nodded. “Aunt Abby is one in a million. I agree with her. I think every individual should feel they alone are responsible for their thoughts and actions.”

“Time’s up!” the guard’s voice intoned.

Micah was waiting for Carrie when she left the prison.

Carrie hurried over to him. “We have one more stop before I go back to my father’s, Micah.”

“Yes, ma’am. Where you want to go?”

She gave him the address.

“You sure that’s where you be wanting to go, Miss Carrie?” He was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

“That’s the place.”

He shook his head but picked up the reins and urged the horses forward.

Carrie settled back against her seat. She understood the strange look. She was quite sure he didn’t take too many white people to this part of Richmond, and they didn’t have far to go. Opal lived only a few blocks from the prison.

Carrie gazed around her as they entered the neighborhood where Opal lived with her cousin. It was certainly barren and drab, but she had to admit the two-story frame houses were an improvement over the quarters at home. When they turned onto Opal’s street, she could hear the sounds of children playing in the

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street, and men and women calling to each other. As they rolled along, though, quiet seemed to spread in a wave before them. Children who looked up and saw her immediately quit playing and ran to their porches, where they perched and watched her, their small faces set like stone. Voices quit calling out to one another as men and women turned away and acted as if they were busy with a chore.

Finally the carriage pulled up in front of the address.

She could see little faces peering out at her, but no one came out to meet her. She was not expecting them to.

Carrie gathered her dress, stepped down onto the dusty road, and walked quickly to the door. It was several minutes before a face appeared.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Carrie smiled at the girl in front of her, trying to dispel the fear she saw in her eyes. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to come looking for Opal. She didn’t want to cause trouble for the people here, but she was already here, so... “I am looking for Opal. I understand she lives here.” She kept her voice gentle.

The girl became even more guarded, though she kept her voice even. “Yes, ma’am, she lives here, but she ain’t here right now.”

Carrie looked at the girl in admiration. She guessed her to be about sixteen, though her manner made her seem much older. Her voice was musical and her diction was clear. It was the intelligence in her eyes that drew Carrie the most, however. The girl reminded her of Rose.

“Do you know when I might find her here? It is really quite important that I see her.” She watched as the shutters closed further over the girl’s eyes. Then she realized what she was doing wrong. This girl had no idea who she was. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Carrie Cromwell.”

“You be Miss Cromwell?” the girl exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so? Come on in this house.”

Carrie smiled with relief at the rapid change. “Thank you,” she said as she stepped in the door. Suddenly she was surrounded by three more children.

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The girl who had met her spoke as soon as she was inside. “My name is Susie. This here is Amber, Sadie and Carl.” She looked back up at Carrie. “We’ve done heard lots about you, Miss Cromwell. Opal thinks the world of you.”

“And I think the world of Opal. Is she doing well?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Opal be doing just fine. She should be back any minute now. She went to run some kind of errand. She works most every day, but she had today off.

She’s going to be right happy to see you.”

Any minute turned into an hour, but it seemed to fly by. Carrie had fallen completely in love with the children by the time she heard footsteps on the porch.

“Miss Carrie, what are you doing here?” Opal asked with delight as soon as she saw her. Then her face clouded with anxiety. “There be something wrong back on the plantation? Are you coming to tell me I got to go back?”

Carrie hastened to reassure her. “No, nothing like that, Opal. I came to ask you a favor. Your cousins here have been taking very good care of me.” She looked Opal over carefully. “You look as if you’re doing well,” she said warmly.

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m doing real good. How’s everyone on the plantation?”

“I assume they’re doing well. I’ve been here in the city for the last three weeks.”

“Here in Richmond?” Opal asked in surprise.

Carrie nodded and explained that her father had asked her to come. “I deliberately stayed away because I didn’t want my father asking too many questions. That has changed now, though. My father knows you are here.”

Fear sprang into Opal’s eyes. “Oh Lord.” was all she could say.

“It’s all right, Opal. Once I knew I needed you, I also knew I had to take the chance. My father was fine with you being here. I didn’t know it, but all the plantation owners are being asked to send some of their slaves to Richmond to help with the war. They are working in the factories, building the defenses, things like that. I am going to have to send more when I get home.” Her last

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statement had caused her to get very little sleep the night before, but she had decided not to worry about it until she was back on the plantation.

Opal still looked anxious, even though the fear was gone from her eyes. “What kind of help you be needing from me, Miss Carrie? I’ll do whatever I can.”

Carrie nodded. “I know you will, Opal. I didn’t know anyone else I could trust.” She smiled at the pride shining forth in Opal’s eyes and explained about Matthew. “He’s a very dear friend. I can’t stand the thought of leaving him in that prison. I have some money for you to buy him fresh food and some more clothes. He’s also going to need paper so he can continue writing. I would appreciate it if you could visit him every few days.”

Opal laughed. “They’re not going to let me get near that prison, Miss Carrie. I’ve heard the stories. They’re not letting anyone in to see those men.”

Carrie pulled out the piece of paper she had carefully folded in her pocket. “This letter will get you in, Opal.

General Winder, the one in charge of all the prisons, wrote it this morning. It grants entrance to me and,” she continued with a smile, “you.”

Opal’s eyes grew wide. “That letter says I can go into the officers’ prison? Anytime I want?” Her voice was disbelieving. She reached for the letter. “Can I read that thing?”

Carrie handed it to her with a smile. Once again she thought of Rose and felt a pang of loneliness. If it weren’t for Rose, Opal wouldn’t know how to read and write.

Suddenly, all she wanted was to be with her best friend again. She had taken an extra day to make sure Matthew was provided for, but now she was anxious to get home.

Spencer would arrive early the next morning to take her.

“Will you do it, Opal?”

“‘Course I’ll do it, Miss Carrie. I’m glad there’s something I can do for you seeing as you’ve done so much for me.”

Carrie watched the pleasure shining in her eyes and thought how much she’d changed. There was strength and a confidence that wasn’t there before. “You’re different, Opal.”

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Opal looked up from the letter she had been reading and smiled shyly. “Yes, ma’am, I reckon I am.”

“Why?”

Opal’s voice was suddenly intense. “It changes a person to be able to decide things for yourself. I still ain’t really free, but I get to decide things for myself now. There ain’t so much to care about when you’re a slave. It doesn’t do you any good to think for yourself, because you can’t do nothing with them thoughts. You’re always told what to do and when to do it.” She paused and looked Carrie straight in the eye. “I got dreams and hopes just like any white person, Miss Carrie. I’m going to work hard to make them dreams come true.”

“What is your dream, Opal?”

Opal looked at her hard as if trying to figure out if she really cared. “I want to have my own eatin’ place, Miss Carrie. I always thought I would love to cook, but I was always on the other end of a hoe or a tobacco worm. There wasn’t much time left for cooking. I’ve been cooking some since I been here. I like it a lot, and the people who are eating my cooking say it’s pretty good.”

Carl spoke from where he was standing to the side.

“Opal be as good a cook as my mama,” he said proudly.

Everyone laughed as Carl rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips together.

“I’ve been going to church here, too, Miss Carrie.”

Carrie nodded. “You went to church on the plantation, Opal.”

“Yes, ma’am, but it be different when the preacher isn’t saying only the things the plantation owner says he can say. This preacher is different. He talks about God like he’s really real. And he’s white to boot!”

Carrie laughed at her expression but was not surprised the preacher was white. It was against the law for a black congregation to have a black preacher. They could meet together, but their preacher had to be white.

It was another way for the white people not to lose control. “I’m glad you’re going to church, Opal. And I’m glad you’re finding out God is real.”

“Yes, ma’am. Pastor Anthony, he’s a fine preacher, and he’s a good man,” she declared.

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“Pastor Anthony?” Carrie thought for a moment. Why was that name familiar? Suddenly her mind flew back to the morning she had rushed to see Robert off on the train.

“Is it Pastor Marcus Anthony?”

It was Opal’s turn to stare. “You know Pastor Anthony, Miss Carrie?”

“We’ve met,” she said. “I liked him right away, Opal.

I’m glad he’s your pastor.”

Carrie stayed for just a little while longer and then left.

She was having one last dinner with her father at the Spotswood before she returned to the plantation in the morning.

Opal turned and stared at Susie as soon as Carrie rolled off in the carriage. “If that don’t beat all,” she exclaimed.

Susie turned to the other three children. “Why don’t y’all go back out and play now? Me and Opal need to talk.”

Once the children were out in the yard, Susie joined Opal on the sofa next to the window. “A letter to get into the officers’ prison. I can’t believe it,” Opal whispered, almost as if saying it out loud would make it untrue. Opal clutched the letter in her hand and stared at it. Just yesterday, Susie’s employer, Mrs. Hamilton, had talked to her about how much she wanted to get into the officers’

prison.

“Come on, girl. We’re going to Mrs. Hamilton’s,” Susie said, springing up from the sofa.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

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Opal smiled at the look of awe and delight on Mrs.

Hamilton’s face as she gazed at the letter.

“It’s a miracle,” the woman said in a whisper. She stared at it for a minute more and then turned her eyes to Opal. “Are you willing to help me?” she asked.

Opal nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Wait right here,” Mrs. Hamilton said, disappearing from the room. She returned moments later with a large serving platter. “I want you to use this to take food to Mr.

Justin.”

Opal stared at it. What was so special about that dish?

Mrs. Hamilton smiled, then with a quick movement of her hand slid back the false bottom of the plate.

Opal and Susie gasped at the same time.

“We’re going to take the officers things no one will know about,” Mrs. Hamilton said coyly. “I hope we’ll get little gifts in return.”

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