Chapter Eighteen
“Good morning, dear. How are you?” Thomas peered into his daughter’s eyes when she opened the door in response to his knock.
Carrie knew he was trying to look deeper into her heart. She summoned a bright smile. “I feel wonderful, Father. Isn’t it a beautiful day? This is our last one here in Richmond, and I want to make the most of it.”
Thomas returned her smile but couldn’t hide the puzzled look on his face.
“I’m starving. Let’s go find some breakfast,” Carrie said, anxious to escape his knowing eyes. Carrie knew he had come to find out what had been bothering her the night before.
He shook his head in confusion before he moved to catch up with her.
Carrie was not really surprised when Robert rose from a chair in the lobby to meet them. “Good morning, Robert,” she said. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep!” Careful, she warned herself. You don’t want to sound too cheerful.
Robert fell into step beside her. “Slept like a top,” he said. “I was hoping you and your father wouldn’t mind if I joined you for breakfast.”
“Not at all.”
Their early morning cheer was too forced, and the confused look on her father’s face confirmed it. Well, she was an adult. He didn’t have to know everything that was going on between her and Robert. Her mutinous thoughts surprised her. I will have a chance to talk with him later on the way home, she reminded herself as she took her place at the table.
Thomas ordered breakfast and turned to Robert. “Did you and your young journalist friend talk much about the upcoming Republican Convention, Robert?”
Robert shook his head. “There seemed to be enough action on the Democratic side to keep us occupied, sir. From all I hear, Seward is sure to be the Republican nominee.”
Thomas nodded, his face creased with tension. “I fear that is true.”
“Stop it!” Carrie, knowing her voice bordered on hysteria, managed to bring it under control with difficulty, while her father stared at her in surprise. She tried to make her tone light as she repeated her words. “Stop it, you two. Must every waking moment be spent talking politics and what is going on in this country? I’m sick of it.” Visions of Louisa floated through her mind, but she pushed them back and forced a cheerful note. “I am in Richmond with the two best-looking men I know. I simply refuse to have every minute of my last day here darkened with distressing talk.”
Thomas exchanged glances with Robert and acquiesced graciously. “I’m sorry, Carrie. What would you like to talk about? And how would you like to spend the rest of the day?” he asked.
Carrie shrugged, not sure her victory held any meaning for her. Was she not just playing a silly game? Then her body stiffened. So be it! If she was playing a game, it was surely better than the reality surrounding her at every turn. She pushed away the thought that she detested game-playing.
“Mr. Cromwell, didn’t you say you wanted to go visit your friend Mr. Lind who lives north of the city?” Robert asked. He smiled broadly when Thomas nodded. “The John Marshall is in dock right now. I heard that it is leaving later this morning for Lynchburg. Carrie and I could take a trip on the John Marshall and have it drop us off at Lind’s landing. All of us could come back in your carriage.” He paused. “I also hear there is a new production at Metropolitan Hall tonight. I would be honored if you would accompany me, Carrie.”
Carrie smiled with delight. “The John Marshall! Isn’t that the wonderful packet boat? And Metropolitan Hall? I’ve always wanted to go there.” She turned to her father, excitement gleaming from her eyes. “It sounds like a wonderful plan. What do you think?”
“I agree, Carrie. You’ll have a wonderful time on board. I was planning on spending the day with Lind, anyway. It’s important I do so in order to live up to my agreement with Governor Letcher.” He pushed back from the stable and stood. “I suppose I’ll see you upriver.”
The bustling port at the end of Eighth Street teemed with activity. Passengers arrived at the landing both by carriage and by foot. The ticket office did a steady trade as baggage was passed up to the boat and carefully stowed by the crew.
Carrie almost danced as she made her way down the hill leading to the landing. She had decided to have a good day in spite of the turmoil boiling in her soul. “The John Marshall! I’ve heard so much about it.”
Robert smiled at her excitement. “I’ll be back in a moment with our tickets.”
Carrie took the opportunity to look around. The Kanawha Canal was a marvel to her. It had first extended seven miles to afford safe passage around the Richmond Falls. Packet boats now ran daily trips between the capital city and Lynchburg, over one hundred miles away. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it had taken to dig such a massive canal for that long of a distance.
“Daydreaming on such a beautiful day?”
Carrie opened her eyes and smiled into Robert’s teasing ones. “Not daydreaming. I’m just trying to imagine what it took to create this canal.”
“Most of it done by hand, too, with pickaxe and shovel. Germans, Scots and Irish, brought over and hired to do the job, did most of the work. Along with the help of hired-out slaves.” Robert turned toward the boat. “I have the tickets. Are you ready to go on board?”
Carrie followed willingly, breathing in deep draughts of fresh air. The day could not have been more perfect. There was nothing to mar the flawless blue sky. The sun was warm but promised not to be too hot. A light breeze ruffled her hair and made her full skirts sway lightly.
She hurried aboard, taking in all the details of the boat. The roof of the packet boat, open to the weather, looked like a garden. At fourteen feet by ninety feet, it provided ample space for passengers. Carrie knew the enclosed lower deck would be the site of supper and would then be divided into sleeping compartments for men and women during the thirty-three hour trip. Sometime it would be fun to travel all the way to Lynchburg, but she was content for now.
“Will you be up for some dancing later, Miss Cromwell?”
“Dancing?” Carrie echoed, gazing in the direction Robert was indicating. She smiled with delight when she saw several men warming up their banjos and guitars. “What fun!”
The boat moved slowly as it was pushed under the bridge on Seventh Street. Once clear of the bridge, horses were hitched to continue its slow travel until the John Marshall passed the crowd of boats moored near the edge of the city. Carrie laughed with delight when the horses broke into a trot and the boat responded with a lively jerk. Thrown off balance, she made no protest when Robert reached out to steady her with his hand. She merely smiled when he continued to let it rest on her arm. She leaned into the railing and watched as the cutwater threw up its spray. As they rounded Penitentiary Hill, she looked up and caught one last glimpse of the city before it disappeared.
Carrie turned around and noticed most of the men had drifted off into conversation. Robert was watching them with a gleam in his eye. “Want to join them?”
“Not on your life,” Robert responded. He took Carrie by the arm and led her to a bench situated on the aft of the boat. “I’ll be back with some cold lemonade in just a minute.”
Carrie watched while he disappeared down the stairs that led to the lower deck, and then she turned her attention to the rest of the passengers. Packet boats were still the preferred mode of travel for most well-bred Richmonders, but her father told her the reliable old boats were soon to be outdone by the railroad. Carrie knew the train was much faster, but it had none of the romanticism of the old boats. She watched as young girls and women gathered around tables for backgammon, all the time well aware of the activities of eligible young men on board. Knots of men lounged against the railing as they debated and argued.
“I tell you, if Seward is elected the whole country will fall into ruin.”
Carrie frowned as bits of a conversation floated over to where she was sitting. She smiled with relief when Robert returned with a cold glass of lemonade. She was determined nothing was going to ruin the magic of her day. Just then, an outburst of music sounded from the foredeck.
“I think that’s our signal, Miss Cromwell,” Robert said as he reached for her hand and led her to the front of the deck. Minutes later, a rousing version of the Virginia reel turned the deck into a kaleidoscope of changing colors as bright dresses flashed among the figures.
“Enough!” Carrie laughed breathlessly as she grabbed Robert by the hand and led him to the railing after eight straight dances. “It’s too warm out here for this.”
“Ah, Miss Cromwell, you disappoint me. I thought dancing was in your soul.”
“And I’ve always heard it is quite improper for a young lady to sweat like a horse in the presence of a young gentleman.”
The bantering continued between the two as the packet boat forged up the river. Luxuriant green pastures and hills lined the shores. Trees and brush formed a veritable forest in some places, before thinning and disappearing as another of the majestic James River plantations would claim its superior position on a passing hill. The sun hit high noon and began its westerly descent as the two talked.
“Lind’s Landing!”
Carrie started. “I can’t believe we’re already here. Look! There’s my father with Mr. Lind.” She smiled and looked into Robert’s eyes. “Thank you. I had a wonderful time.”
Within minutes she was being ushered into the cool confines of Lind’s opulent plantation manor. A servant was waiting to take her to a room where she could freshen herself. She had instructions to appear for dinner in thirty minutes.
“No talk of what we discussed this afternoon, Lind.” Thomas lit his cigar and sat back in his chair. He hastened to explain when his friend looked at him, puzzled. “Carrie has about had her fill of it for now. Something is bothering her, but I’m blamed if I know what it is. For now, I’m going to give her what she wants.” He paused. “We’ve discussed what I came to talk about anyway.”
Lind laughed. “I think you misread my puzzled look. I had no intention of talking politics at the supper table. My wife would have my head. Not to mention that she wouldn’t understand a word of it. I don’t think women and politics mix. Do you?”
Thomas spoke smoothly, not wishing to offend his host. “Carrie has always had an interest in politics. I have seen no reason to discourage it. Many times she helps me see things more clearly.”
The ringing of the dinner bell saved him from further discussion. He didn’t expect his older friend to understand.
Carrie enjoyed the meal with the Linds but kept a close eye on the clock. Robert, too, watched the timepiece in his pocket, and after an hour of easy conversation, he pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry to end such a delightful meal, but if we are to make our performance tonight, we must be going.”
Carrie flashed him a look of gratitude.
“Oh, are you attending a performance at the Marshall Theatre tonight?”
Robert shook his head and smiled easily at his attractive hostess. “Not tonight, Mrs. Lind. Our tickets are for Metropolitan Hall.”
Carrie hid her smile at the slightly patronizing air her hostess assumed. Well-bred Virginians considered the lighter amusement of Metropolitan Hall to be somewhat below their cultured refinement. “I am quite looking forward to it, Mrs. Lind,” Carrie interjected as she stood from her place at the table.
“I’m sure you are, dear.” Mrs. Lind managed to keep her voice pleasant.
Carrie exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Robert and found herself feeling once again the glow of excitement that being with him brought. He was everything she had ever thought a man would be. Doubt raised its ugly head as a vision of the night before flashed in her head, but she resolutely pushed it away.
Dusk had deepened the shadows of the city. Gaslights flickered and glowed as Carrie and Robert rolled down the street in her father’s carriage. She listened as Robert played tour guide.
“Metropolitan Hall used to be the First Presbyterian Church. When its congregation moved to a new building, it was bought and turned into a theater.”
Carrie was content to listen. She was tired from her day on the river but looked forward to the night.
“Have you ever been to a panorama?” Robert asked. Her blank look answered his question. “You’re in for a treat,” he grinned. “It’s somewhat like a large painting that is slowly unwound. There is usually wonderful music and a lecture.”
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Carrie looked up in appreciation at the smart two-story brick structure with its charming third-story cupola adorning the front. She felt the magic of the day envelop her once again as she glided up the steps at Robert’s side. Admiring glances told her they made a dashing couple.
The evening passed in a haze of delight. It was easy to understand why panoramas were so popular—ancient cities, ruins, sea views, moonlight, winter and summer scenes, fire and volcanic eruptions came to life as the music swelled around them. Lifelike scenes of midnight mass at the Milan Cathedral and Belshazzar’s Feast at the court of Babylon highlighted the show. A lively lecture kept them absorbed in what they were seeing. Finally, as the last scene unfurled and the music died, Carrie reluctantly came back to the present.
“What a wonderful day,” Carrie murmured as she leaned back against the carriage seat.
Just then a flurry of movement on the sidewalk drew her attention. She looked up in time to see a poorly dressed black man forced from the sidewalk by a large group of white laborers. He stumbled and almost fell into one of the many carriages still clogging the streets at this late hour. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief as he regained his balance and stepped back to safety.
“Hey, nigger! Don’t you know the sidewalks are for white people?” one of them yelled. He stepped down from the sidewalk, his brawny height towering over the slightly built black man.
“Miles! Stop!” Carrie commanded. She sensed Robert turn to her in protest, but he didn’t say anything. Carrie watched as the black man kept his eyes resolutely on the ground and began to amble off down the road.
“Hey, you!” the antagonist yelled, moving to block the other man’s path. “I ain’t done with you yet. You ain’t showed me your pass to be out on the streets.” He looked up, became aware of his audience, and took on a more swaggering tone. “Let’s see the pass, nigger.”
The black man reached into his pockets and pulled out the demanded piece of paper. Slowly, he handed it over and waited while the larger man looked at it.
“This says you’re a free man, nigger. That true?” He leered at the black man. “Yeah, well, don’t be too sure you’re gonna stay that way. Niggers ain’t good for nothing but being slaves.” He shoved the piece of paper at him and snarled. “Get going, nigger. And stay out of my way.” He watched while the man pocketed his paper and resumed his travel, careful to stay in the streets and away from the offending sidewalk. The white man looked up in triumph at his audience. Carrie fixed him with as withering a gaze as she could manage. Discomfited, the abuser looked down, muttered a curse, and then joined his friends on the sidewalk. “Let’s go, boys.”
Silence fell on the carriage. Carrie said nothing when Miles moved the horses along without a command from her.
“Is something wrong with my daughter?”
Both Thomas and Robert stared up the steps after Carrie’s retreating back. She had thanked Robert very graciously for a wonderful day but had chosen to retire to her room instead of joining the two men for a cup of hot tea.
Robert shrugged helplessly. “Just when I think I have her figured out...”
“Ah.” Thomas took the younger man’s arm and led him to a secluded table in the almost deserted restaurant. “There is your first mistake, my boy. Some women you may figure out, but not Carrie. She will always surprise you.”
Robert nodded. “That’s one of the things that intrigues me, sir.” He paused for a long moment before he finally looked into Thomas’ eyes. “I love your daughter, sir.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”
“You don’t mind, sir?”
Thomas laughed. “What I think doesn’t really matter. But no, I don’t mind. I think you’re a fine young man.” He paused. “You have your work cut out for you, though. Carrie is an independent spirit.”
Robert nodded. “You don’t need to tell me that. It’s another one of the things I love about her...”
“But...”
“But we seem to keep butting heads on a single issue.” The frustration in Robert’s voice was keen. Thomas waited while the younger man searched for the right words. “It’s the slavery issue, Mr. Cromwell. I think your daughter is planning on becoming an abolitionist,” he said.
Thomas laughed heartily. “Hardly that, Robert! My Carrie may be questioning some things, but she will ultimately come out on the side of what is right. She will understand that, however unpleasant it may be at times, it is our destiny to be in control of the slaves.”
“Do you really think so, sir? I have hopes she is just going through a stage.” He paused for another long moment. “I hope to make her my wife someday,” he blurted, “but she will have to be willing to accept the condition of slavery on my plantation. That is how I have always lived, and I have no intention of changing it.”
Thomas eyed the younger man perceptively. “It could make life as a plantation owner very difficult if your wife was at odds with you over our peculiar institution,” he said.
“She has many dreams, sir. I don’t know what will become of my love for her, but she’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Mr. Cromwell.”
Thomas heard the slightly desperate tone of his voice but chose not to comment on it. His heart went out to the handsome young man seated across from him. Thomas would listen, but he wouldn’t interfere. Carrie would make up her own mind. As she always had, he thought wryly. He leaned across the table and abruptly changed the topic. “I bought a house today.”
Robert blinked at him in surprise. “A house, sir?”
Thomas nodded. “A three-story brick on Church Hill.” He answered the unspoken question in Robert’s eyes. “I have promised Governor Letcher I will do all I can to help control the secessionism craze sweeping the South. I will do what I can from the plantation, but I’m sure there is going to be an increased need for me to be in Richmond. It made sense for me to buy a house.”
Robert waited, watching him closely.
“If there’s trouble...if all this foolishness leads us into a war, I want Carrie and her mother to have a safe place to live. I’m afraid the plantation would not provide that for them.”
The two men stared into their cups as they let their thoughts engulf them.