Bregdan Chronicles - Storm Clouds Rolling In by Ginny Dye - HTML preview

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Chapter Thirty-Four

The blush of spring was kissing Virginia as the month of March claimed the wintry landscape. Red maple buds bulged with the promise of life. Low-hanging willows proudly sported their fresh tendrils of green. Carrie was glad for the robes tucked around her legs. The sun was warm, but the air was still nippy as Charles urged the horses down the road at a rapid trot. She leaned back against the carriage seat and pulled out the two letters that had prompted her sudden trip to Richmond. The first was from her father.

 

  Dear Carrie,

I find I have not much time to write. The political affairs of our country are consuming all my time and energy. Having just returned from Washington, there is too much happening at present for me to make a trip to Cromwell. I miss you, daughter. It would give me great pleasure if you would come to visit your devoted father. I’m sure it would also do you good to get away from the plantation for a while. I will look forward with great anticipation to a positive response.

With deep love,

Father

 

Carrie smiled as she folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. There was a troubled look on her face when she pulled out the second letter.

 

Dear Carrie,

How I miss you. With activity so slow on the plantation during the winter months, I have found myself often in Richmond. I have become very involved with the militia units Governor Letcher has been so wise to develop. My cavalry unit from Goochland continues to give me many reasons to be proud of them, and I am finding myself in demand in Richmond as our leaders discuss the preparation of Virginia’s defense if we have need of it. That we will indeed have need of it becomes more certain in my mind every day.

I long to see you, Carrie. I visited with your father recently and know he feels the same way. I am writing to add to his plea for you to come to Richmond. I long to get away and come visit you, but it seems to be impossible now. Please put two men out of their misery. Come to Richmond soon!

With deep affection,

Robert

 

Carrie released a heavy sigh as she stared at Robert’s letter. Her internal struggle had not lessened since Christmas Day when she had discovered Robert’s horrendous actions on his plantation. That his actions were completely legal under Virginia law made not one bit of difference to her. The very thought of it caused loathing in her soul, and her efforts to put it out of her mind had been to no avail. The arrival of the two letters had made her accept the truth. She must face the issue. No longer could she run from it. She had left Cromwell only three days after receiving her letters.

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Carrie gazed up at the handsome brick house as Charles stopped the carriage. Overlooking the city from its impressive perch on Church Hill, the three-storied structure was graced by a massive front porch, its small yard surrounded by filigreed ironwork. Stately boxwoods lined the walk, and blooming camellias surrounded the porch.

“Carrie!”

“Father!” Carrie jumped from the carriage and ran up the stairs to embrace her father. She was relieved by the strong, steady light in his eyes. Obviously, there were no ghosts here to haunt him. “It’s wonderful to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Thomas smiled warmly and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for coming. My old heart needed the sight of my beautiful daughter.” He took her arm and led her into the house. “I have invited Robert over for dinner at six o’clock. He is quite anxious to see you.”

Carrie looked around as she entered the house. “You have quite a beautiful home here,” she murmured. The expansive entryway was lined with glorious pictures, and a glistening chandelier cast its soft glow. A glance into the rooms off the hallway revealed the same kind of splendor. If possible, it was even fancier than the plantation.

Thomas shrugged. “I bought it as you see it. The previous owner passed away quite suddenly. The one heir didn’t want to be bothered with selling off belongings individually.” He paused. “I am quite comfortable here.” Carrie followed him into the elegant parlor. After they were both seated, he turned to her. “My original intent was to provide a safe haven for you and your mother if war should come and you would have to leave the plantation, but it has served quite well as my residence and base of operations.”

“You look better than I have seen you in months.”

Thomas smiled slightly. “There are no memories to mock all I spent my life building. I am needed here in Richmond.” He held up his hand at Carrie’s look of protest. “I’m sure I am also needed at Cromwell, but I find I am still too much of a coward to return.”

“You’re not a coward, Father.”

“Maybe not, though I doubt it. It mocks me daily that it is my daughter who is carrying on for me.”

“It’s simply ridiculous for you to feel that way. I am quite happy on the plantation, and you are doing what you need to be doing. I am very proud of you.”

Thomas watched her closely. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“But why? How? All you wanted was to leave the plantation. Why are you now content? Surely you must see why I feel so guilty.”

Carrie searched for the right words to assuage her father’s guilt. “I’m not sure I can explain it. For a while, I felt like Cromwell Plantation was nothing but a beautiful prison for me. I’m not sure when I realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be. That knowledge changed it from a prison to a glorious challenge.” She paused and stared deeply into her father’s eyes. “Even if you came back now, I would still stay. I have not given up on my dreams”—she smiled broadly—“but dreams are meant to be lived in God’s time. It’s not time yet.”

Thomas stared at her. “You’ve changed,” he said simply.

Carrie laughed. “I prefer to think I’ve grown up.”

Thomas reached out to take her hand. “Thank you.” He seemed to want to say more but didn’t know what.

Carrie squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome.” She changed the subject. “Please tell me what is going on in our country. I get it all in bits and pieces, and weeks after it has happened. How was the peace conference in Washington?”

Thomas leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid I can only say it was a dismal failure. I suppose I should take solace in the fact there are still reasonable men from all over our nation who wish to see tragedy averted, but I’m afraid there are not enough of us to make any real difference. It was our own Governor Letcher who called for the conference, but there was not even a consensus of feeling among our own delegates. There are many Virginians eager to ride the wave of secession.”

“Is it still seven states?” Carrie asked.

Thomas nodded heavily. “Yes, and not one of those seven states, too busy establishing their own government in Montgomery, bothered to send delegates to the peace conference. They are clearly not interested in a peaceful settlement. They insist they want to dissolve the Union in a peaceful way, but they are simply hoping the North will turn the other way and pretend our glorious Union never existed. Jefferson Davis, the new president for the Confederation of Southern States, claims he wants peace, but he also says the South will fight to the death if anyone tries to stop their secession.”

“And what does Lincoln say? He’s been president for less than two months now.”

Thomas grimaced. “I both pity and despise the man,” he growled. “I also admire him,” he admitted. “He has stepped aboard to captain a sinking ship—one that has seven gaping holes. With no hope of plugging those holes, and with many more waiting to spring a leak if he tries to turn the boat around...” Thomas shook his head. “I would not want to be in his place.”

“Was nothing accomplished at the convention?” Carrie knew her father and Governor Letcher had gone to Washington with such high hopes. She saw none of it in her father now.

Thomas shrugged. “There was a lot of talk of compromise—of safeguards for slavery.” His voice grew firmer. “Safeguards that should be implemented and enforced by all the powers of our government.”

“And Lincoln? What did he say?”

Thomas frowned. “Our president said, and I quote, As to slavery, it must be content with what it has. The voice of the civilized world is against it; it is opposed to its growth or extension. Freedom is the natural condition of the human race, in which the Almighty intended men to live. Those who fight the purposes of the Almighty will not succeed. They always have been, and they always will be, beaten.’ ”

Carrie sat quietly, quite sure she agreed with their new president.

Thomas’ frustration was evident. “I believe the secession movement can be stopped. The seven cotton states who have already seceded know how badly they need the border states and the rest who are content to merely watch right now.” He leaned forward as he spoke intensely, his eyes blazing. “Virginia is the key. We must hold back the tide of secession here. The South needs us too badly. They need our wealth and they need our industrial strength. Without Virginia, their dreams of establishing an independent country are just that—dreams!”

“Will Virginia stand?” Carrie asked quietly.

Thomas slouched back into his chair with a sigh. “We are holding for now. There are still enough men in leadership who are determined to keep the Union intact, but the spirit of the people is changing. Richmond itself is full of citizens who are sounding the cry of secession.” He shook his head. “If they only knew they were like a herd of mindless sheep being led to the slaughter. They are content to follow the leader, their noses close to the ground, refusing to look up and see the danger that lurks on the horizon. They are headed straight for a cliff, but they won’t even know it until they have tumbled over the jagged edge,” he said bitterly.

Carrie frowned at the agony she saw on her father’s face. His words had stirred deep unrest in her heart. Miles away on the plantation, it was easy to focus on her existence and believe the rest of the world continued as it always had. Here in Richmond, she was forced to acknowledge that all she had ever known tottered on the brink of a steep precipice.

Thomas shook his head again and forced a smile to his lips. “Enough of such talk. You have just gotten here. How long are you going to stay?”

Carrie shrugged. “I decided not to put a limit on it. The plantation is running smoothly.”

“You trust Adams to run things?” He smiled sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t be questioning you. I seem to have abdicated my rights.”

“Nonsense!” Carrie said. “Cromwell Plantation will always be yours. You have every right to ask questions.” And I have every right to not answer them completely truthfully, she thought as she replied. “The Cromwell overseer is doing a tremendous job. I will trust him for as long as I feel the need to be here.” Carrie smiled. “The plantation is doing well, Father. The crops are going in right on schedule.” She had already decided not to tell him that freedom had lured seven more of the slaves northward. Nor that she had written the passes that secured them easy passage on the trains heading out of Richmond and into Philadelphia. He also didn’t need to know that Aunt Abby was sending them on their way through her contacts in the Underground Railroad. Carrie loved and respected her father, but she had long ago decided to be true to her heart. She had also decided not to cross bridges until she was forced to.

Carrie talked for several minutes, detailing what was going on at Cromwell Plantation, determined to put her father’s mind at ease. Thomas listened, but Carrie could tell his mind was already focusing on other things. Abruptly, she ceased talking and stood up. “I would love to freshen up. Could you please tell me where my room is?”

Thomas nodded. “Of course, dear. I should have thought of it sooner, instead of rambling on.” He raised his voice. “Micah!” he called.

“Micah?” Carrie asked with a lift of her eyebrows.

Thomas nodded. “I found it necessary to purchase several slaves to take care of the operations around the house. They are quite a good bargain right now, what with the uncertain state of affairs in our country.” His smile lacked any humor.

Carrie’s responding smile covered the groan that wanted to escape her lips. She leaned forward and kissed her father lightly. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

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Carrie watched from her window as Robert’s carriage rolled up to the gate. He jumped out and looked eagerly toward the house. She maintained her position behind the concealing curtain, suddenly unwilling to face what lay ahead. The mere sight of his broad shoulders and handsome face caused a deep longing to sweep through her, and yet, overlaying the longing was the loathing and fear of the hatred that controlled his actions. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and focus her mind, then turned and made her way to the parlor.

Robert rose eagerly as soon as Carrie entered the room. “Carrie!” He strode forward, took her hand, and gazed down into her eyes. Carrie smiled but was aware her smile lacked any real warmth. Robert hesitated and then slowly dropped her hand. “It’s good to see you again,” he murmured.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Robert.” Her voice was pleasant but noncommittal. She longed to reach up and touch his confused face, but there was too much standing between them. She saw her father watching her, but knew he would not say anything. Not until later, anyway.

“Robert and I were just talking about Fort Sumter, Carrie. He tells me he is considering going to Charleston again soon.”

Carrie, determined not to make the dinner hour unpleasant, smiled up at Robert. “Why are you going to Charleston?” 

Robert frowned slightly. “Surely you are aware of what is going on at Fort Sumter, Carrie?”

It was Carrie’s turn to frown. Robert’s tone was one of a superior talking down to a subordinate. “I am aware that the fort at Sumter is being held by a garrison of United States troops. Has it suddenly become a crime for federal troops to be on American soil?” she asked crisply.

 “I’m sorry,” Robert said. He reddened and reached out to take her hand. “I have been commanding the militia too much lately. I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Carrie hated the tension between them. Still fighting the longing in her heart, she allowed her hand to remain there. “Why don’t you fill me in on Fort Sumter? I’m sure I am hopelessly out of date,” she said, trying to bring warmth back into her voice.

Robert gave a relieved sigh and settled down in a chair opposite her father. “Jefferson Davis has just commissioned Beauregard to brigadier general. Beauregard is on his way now to take over command of all the Southern forces in Charleston.”

Carrie gasped. She was indeed hopelessly out of date. The standoff between Major Anderson of Fort Sumter and the state of South Carolina had indeed taken some nasty turns since Anderson had moved his troops to Sumter the day after Christmas. She held her breath as Robert continued.

“Southern men are pouring into the Charleston area. Work is being done around the clock to strengthen the forts surrounding Sumter. Guns and ammunition seized from forts and arsenals in the seceding states are being used to ring Sumter with incredible firepower. There are also massive amounts of shot and shell being delivered from Richmond’s own Tredegar Iron Works.”

“What is Lincoln doing about this?” Carrie demanded.

Robert shrugged. “He’s had little time to do anything about anything. He’s inherited a huge mess from Buchanan, who basically did nothing but send some empty letters back and forth and give poor Anderson no real idea as to what steps he was supposed to take.”

Carrie frowned as she tried to remember what little she had read. “I thought Major Anderson is supposed to be pro-slavery?”

Thomas spoke up then. “All reports say he is. After all, his wife is a Georgian. But Anderson is an American through and through. His first allegiance will always be to the flag and the Union it stands for. He is also deeply religious. The reports I hear say that he is desperately trying to figure out how to make this affair end in peace.”

Robert snorted. “It is far too late for that! I think the South is merely stalling, sir. I believe they have every intention of firing upon Fort Sumter. As long as the North hesitates and does nothing, they have more time to build their military force. If my reports are correct, Fort Sumter as it is right now would have a devil of a time defending herself. It’s just a matter of time.” He frowned. “I think that time will be here soon.”

“Is that why you’re going to Charleston?” Carrie asked. “To fight?” Her voice was deeply troubled. Had it really come to this?

Robert shook his head. “I have no intention of fighting. I don’t see this as my war yet. I do believe, though, that South Carolina has the right not to have United States forces on her property.”

Carrie found herself protesting. “How can they call Fort Sumter their property? Why, the whole island the fort sits on was created from tons of rocks and granite shipped down from New England. The fort wouldn’t even exist if the United States hadn’t created it.”

Robert nodded. “That’s true, but South Carolina believes it is a sovereign nation now, and they don’t believe another nation has the right to endanger their national security.”

Thomas shook his head, his focus on only one thing. “So you believe the war will start soon?”

Robert sighed heavily. “I don’t really see any way out of it. No one is really looking for a rational way to solve it. It’s probably too late anyhow. No, I’m afraid the die has been cast.” He turned back to Carrie to finish answering her question. “Governor Letcher has asked me to go to Charleston. He wants a firsthand report of what happens there, and he wants detailed reports on what military moves the South is taking to support their secession. I am going merely as an observer.”

Thomas steered the conversation in a different direction. “Matthew Justin was through town a few days ago and was kind enough to stop in to talk with me.”

“And to find out whatever he could about the state of affairs in Virginia,” Robert added dryly.

Thomas nodded. “That, too,” he admitted. “We are still one country,” he added. “I will work with whoever is willing to try to stop the madness. Justin is at least trying to report the news impartially. That is more than I can say for many of our newspapers, which are wielding their influence to flame the passions already spreading out of control. I fear there are many editors and newspapermen who will bear a heavy responsibility for what happens in our country.” He paused. “Matthew tells me the public tide of Northern opinion is turning entirely against the South.”

“Let it!” Robert said heatedly. “If they had let us alone in the first place, none of this would be happening.”

Thomas nodded. “I agree with you, my boy. There is no reason for us to fight.”

Robert flushed and smiled sheepishly. “You’re right, sir. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I seem to be a little tense lately.”

“You, along with the rest of the country,” Thomas replied. “At least those people in the country who care enough to understand what is happening. That is what troubles me so much about what Matthew told me. For a long time, most of the people in the North could have cared less what was happening down here. Their lives and property weren’t being endangered. If the South wanted to secede, they didn’t care. Why, Horace Greeley of the New York Tribune has come out in his paper and urged the president to let us depart in peace.” He paused, his brow furrowing deeply. “Fort Sumter has changed all that. They are incensed that the American flag was fired upon when Buchanan made his bungled attempt to send reinforcements to Anderson by that ship, the Star of the West. Many of them are calling for the use of force to put down the rebellion.” He shook his head. “No. I knew it was coming, but I have still harbored a hope that reasonable men could find a way around war. The South says they want to leave peacefully, but there are many itching for a good battle. The North is the same. I’m afraid our frail humanity is going to give them both what they want. Once they have gotten it, they will soon enough discover there is no painless way to let it go.”

Carrie stared at her father, suddenly sure his prophetic words were true.

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Carrie was not surprised when Robert led her to the steps of St. John’s Church. Not a word had been spoken since they had left her father’s house. Both were aware this was no time for light chatter. She also knew it would not help to put off the inevitable, so she spoke as soon as she settled down on the top step. “Robert?”

Robert held up his hand to stop her and turned to her eagerly. “Carrie, I must talk to you.”

“All right.” Caught by the urgency in his voice, Carrie forced herself to listen.

Robert reached out and grasped one of her hands. “Carrie, I know you have asked me not to tell you how I feel. I have respected and honored that.” He paused, and Carrie tensed, but he didn’t seem to notice as he pushed on. “Our country is going to war. I am sure of it. Virginia will secede to fight along with the South. That I am also sure of. My duty is calling me to Charleston right now, but when I return, I’m certain I will be offered a commission in the military.”

Carrie stared at him as he talked. Things were moving too quickly. She wanted to push back time and pretend life was as it had always been.

Robert was bent on his course and nothing could sway him. He took a deep breath and looked into Carrie’s eyes. “Carrie Cromwell, I love you. I have loved you from the very first day we met. You have owned me from the moment you cut a lock of your hair to give me as a token in the tournament.” He smiled as he remembered, his voice softening. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

Carrie was speechless.

“I realize war will mean I will be gone—but not for long. The North will give up quickly when they realize there is no hope of defeating superior men dedicated to dying in order to preserve all they know and hold dear. It should only last a month or so.”

Her father’s dark warning that there would be death and tragedy on both sides flickered through her mind, but Carrie said nothing.

“I know how much you want to be a doctor. I also know you are now happy on the plantation. I have hopes you have given up your dreams of being a doctor and will be happy at Oak Meadows, but if not,” he rushed on, “we’ll still figure out a way to make your dream come true.” He paused, and fixed his eyes on her with a note of desperation in his voice. “All I know is that I love you. Will you marry me?”

Carrie expressed all the pain in her heart in two words. “I can’t.”

Robert stared at her. “What do you mean you can’t?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Is it because of the plantation? It will mean extra work, but we can still run both plantations. And once the craziness has settled down in the country, your father will want to return to Cromwell. He can hire another overseer to run things while he is in Richmond for his political work.”

Carrie shook her head. “That’s not the reason.”

Robert looked puzzled. “Is it your dream of being a doctor? Didn’t you hear me, Carrie? We’ll find a way to work it out. There is a medical school right here in Richmond, you know.”

If Carrie wasn’t so consumed with pain, she would have laughed at the idea of a Southern medical school willing to accept her as a student. Why, it was still almost impossible in the North, where thinking was a little more progressive. She was in no mood to be amused, however. She pulled her hand back, pushed herself up from the stairs, and stood, staring out over the city.

Robert finally seemed to realize something else was going on as he stood beside her. “Why can’t you, Carrie?” His voice was quiet. “Is it because you don’t love me?”

Carrie turned to look at him. “I do love you, Robert Borden. I’ve known that for a very long time. But I can’t marry you.”

Robert looked like he wanted to cry out, but he remained silent.

Carrie stared into his eyes for a long moment and then turned to look back over the city glimmering below. Her voice was low as she spoke. “I could never marry someone whose heart carries so much hatred.”

Robert stared at her. “What are you talking about?” He seemed genuinely confused.

Carrie kept her eyes and voice steady. “You have carried hatred in your heart from the day your father was killed. You took a hatred for one man and turned it toward a whole race of people. I believe slavery is wrong, Robert. When two people are married, there are differences, yes, but on an issue that involves so much of who they are as people, they must be united. You and I are far apart on this. Our marriage would never be what we both want it to be.”

Robert’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and confusion. “You would let niggers keep us apart?” His voice was disbelieving.

Carrie shook her head. “Slavery is wrong, Robert. God created all people with a special purpose. He loves us all equally.”

Robert broke in. “If you want to talk about God, fine. Let’s talk about God—and the Bible, too, while we’re at it. The Bible clearly sanctions slavery.”

“Where?”

Robert stared at her. “Where?” he echoed.

“Yes,” Carrie said calmly. “Where? Where does the Bible say it?”

Robert glared at her. “It’s not my job to know that. It’s a minister’s.”

“So you believe it simply because a minister says it’s true?”

“That’s a good enough reason for me. They should know what they’re talking about.”

Carrie nodded. “What about ministers in the North who believe slavery is wrong? Ministers who use the Bible to prove it’s wrong?” She paused, taking compassion on his confused anger. “Robert, I felt the same way you did. Slavery had to be right because it was what I had always been taught. I know your feelings are compounded because of what happened to your father, but that doesn’t make slavery right! It just means people can find a way to justify anything they want to believe. It most certainly doesn’t make it right!”

“And what makes you think you know what’s right or wrong?”

Carrie flinched under the ridicule in his voice, but she was determined to press through. Long hours alone with her troubled thoughts had convinced her Robert was not an evil person—he was a person who needed hate cleansed from his heart. She didn’t really expect her words to do the job, but she had to try. She took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I went alone to my place to have it out with God. I so needed to know the truth.” As best as she could, she relived that day for him. “I believe I heard God that day. I believe I saw his heart. I don’t believe people are supposed to own each other. Love is supposed to be the greatest law, and the determiner of how we treat one another.”

“But the Bible says blacks are inferior! The laws that apply to us simply don’t apply to them.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Carrie exclaimed. “That is simply a lie we have created to make ourselves feel better about exploiting an entire race of people for our own gain.” She pressed on. “Slavery in ancient times was not based on color. If ancient slavery makes the institution right, then it means slavery is acceptable for white people. Under that argument, there is no reason someone might not make a slave of you! How would you feel about it then?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Robert snorted.

“Is it?” Carrie questioned. “You are no more deserving of slavery than the millions of people we are controlling now.”

“You own slaves yourself, Carrie.”

Carrie shook her head decisively. “I own not a single slave, Robert. They all belong to my father. If I had my way, I would let every single one of them go.” She saw no reason to tell him she had already granted freedom to seventeen of the Cromwell slaves, and that the rest were free to leave.

“And what about Cromwell Plantation then?”

Carrie shrugged. She knew Robert was thinking of Oak Meadows and trying to envision it with no slaves. “Prosperity founded on another man’s subjugation is not a thing I desire. The South is full of people who will never own a slave. They are supporting themselves by their own labor. I find that preferable.”

Robert, completely nonplussed, gazed at her angrily. “So you’re saying that if I want you as my wife, I must get rid of all my slaves?”

Carrie shook her head. “You could get rid of all your slaves, and it would make no difference at all.”

“What then?” Robert cried. “What is it that you want from me?”

“It’s not what I wa