Chapter Thirty-Six
Carrie started violently as the front door slammed closed. She laid her book down and jumped up to meet her father, who was striding into the library. “Father! What is wrong?”
“It’s started,” Thomas said. “The war has started. Fort Sumter has been fired upon.” His last words were spoken wearily, as if the force of emotions he had been assailed with had drained his energy.
Carrie stared at him for several long moments and then moved forward to take his arm. “You look tired. Please sit down and tell me what has happened.”
Thomas nodded absently. “Of course.” He sank down into a chair and turned to face her. “I thought you should know at once. I have to leave soon to head back to the Capitol, but I wanted you to know. The telegram just came into the governor. Sumter was attacked at 4:30 this morning after Anderson refused to surrender the fort to the Southern government.” He rubbed his face as he spoke. “It was hours before Sumter even fired back. Our report says the skies over Charleston looked like a giant fireworks display as all points surrounding Sumter opened fire.”
“The war has started...” Carrie said, sick with disbelief. “Will Virginia secede now?”
“Most of the city of Richmond has already seceded,” Thomas said bitterly. “Just eight days ago our convention voted down secession, but the people may have their way yet. You should see the city. Practically all business has been suspended, and the streets are full of people talking of nothing but Sumter. No,” he said, shaking his head, “I had hopes this madness would spend itself out in angry words and futile actions of defiance, but the spark has finally reached the keg of dynamite. The whole thing has blown up. Our whole country is full of one dynamite keg after another. Now that one has blown...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Now that one has blown, it won’t end until all of them have exploded and burned out. We’re in for a long war, Carrie.”
Carrie was holding onto something she had heard Robert and others say. “Surely the war will not be long,” she protested. “Once the North realizes the South is going to stand and fight, surely they will decide to let us go. We may be an independent country, but all of us can still live in peace!”
Her father stared at her. “Do you really believe that? Do you think the North is full of soft, yellow-bellied cowards who won’t fight?”
Visions of the vibrant young men she had danced and talked with in Philadelphia filled her mind. Thoughts of Matthew Justin, his eyes steady and strong, rose to taunt her. The great meeting hall full of people willing to risk everything to help runaway slaves showed her the truth. Carrie settled back with a heavy sigh. “We are indeed in for a long and terrible fight, Father.”
Carrie was finishing up a letter to Aunt Abby when she heard a mighty cry raised in the street outside her window.
“Sumter has fallen! Sumter has fallen!”
Carrie hurried to the window and looked out. Even here on Church Hill, the streets were filling as people poured out of their houses in response to the news. She watched silently for a few minutes. In spite of her repulsion at the thought of war, she felt drawn to the excitement exploding in the streets. Her curiosity demanded to know what was happening. “Micah?” She reached for her cloak and hurried to the front door.”
“Yes, Miss Cromwell?”
Carrie turned to look briefly at the tall, stooped butler who had taken charge of her father’s home. His dark face was set in impassive lines as if he were completely unaware of the chaos reigning in the street just outside the house. She spoke quickly. “If my father returns home, tell him I’ve gone out for a while. I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
A brief flicker of concern crossed Micah’s face. “I am to tell him you went alone, Miss Carrie?” he asked carefully.
Carrie smiled. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she responded. Then, more firmly, she said, “Tell him what you want. I will be back later.” She opened the door, hurried across the porch, and down the steps. Without even thinking, she joined the flow of people streaming down the hill toward the city. She listened as excited talk flowed around her.
“Maybe now our governor will quit rolling over to play dead. This glorious victory will show him the worthiness of the Southern cause!”
“It’s just a matter of time now until the convention votes to secede!”
“I heard Sumter was consumed by flames at the end! Our boys really gave it to those Yankees!”
Carrie stared at the genteel woman who yelled those words, as the mob surged down the crowded streets. The woman’s face, under her perfectly appointed hat, was flushed with pride and anger, her eyes glowing with an oddly wild light. Carrie suppressed a shudder and hurried on.
Once on Broad Street, the crowded madness continued, but the voices were slightly more balanced. Jubilant cries that Sumter had fallen were absorbed by citizens wearing worried looks and discussing whether the convention would hold the line for their state. Carrie took slight hope that voices of reason might yet prevail. Try as she might, she could not imagine being separate from the United States. She stopped long enough to listen to one conversation among a group of serious-faced businessmen.
“The streets are wild, but there are many more people hiding behind their doors, wondering what will be the outcome of this latest act,” one man observed.
Another man, older than the first, looked worried. “The whole issue has changed now, I’m afraid. This whole fight used to be about slavery. There were people who didn’t own slaves and didn’t care about slavery enough to secede from the Union. If the cotton states want it so badly, let them go.”
Another man interrupted. “You’re right. Now the issue has changed. The question has become whether states have the right to secede or not. Does the US Government have the right to force them to stay in the Union? If we really do have a war, there is no way I am going to fight against my sister states of the South!”
Carrie watched closely as the faces lost their worried looks and adopted dark scowls that spoke louder than any words. Suddenly, a mighty surge of people captured her attention. Knocked off balance by a large woman bustling by, Carrie grabbed onto a lamppost and craned her neck, slightly frightened, to see where they were going. The mob grew larger as it swept down the street. Once again, curiosity compelled her to follow.
Twenty minutes later, the mob, now thousands of citizens, converged on the Tredegar Iron Works. The sun sparkled brightly on the waters of the James River as the crowd of people surrounded the building and began their earlier chant. “Sumter has fallen! Sumter has fallen!”
As Carrie watched, the Stars and Bars of the Confederate States was raised above the Iron Works to the accompaniment of cannon fire and the Marseillaise. As soon as the flag fluttered above the inflamed crowd, a mighty roar of approval rose to meet it. When the shouting finally died down, the speeches began.
Carrie wanted to run away from the raw display of emotion, but somehow it held her. She would never agree to this war—never agree to fight to maintain a way of life she no longer believed in—but these were her people, her friends and neighbors. They were fellow Virginians who were suddenly willing to fight a war over something most of them had no part in. She was both appalled and intrigued.
“Virginia will secede! The Yankee tyranny is over!”
Carrie swung her attention back to a hastily erected platform. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be with her father. In the face of such mindless passion, she desperately needed his thoughtful thinking and careful words. She pushed her way out of the crowd and fought her way to the edge. She looked back only once at the flag fluttering brightly above the Iron Works, and hurried up the hill toward the Capitol building.
She was almost there when she saw her father’s figure emerge from the columned porch. “Father!” she yelled.
Thomas turned. “Carrie! What are you doing here?” His face was at once both grim and concerned. “Are you alone?” he asked, looking around.
“Yes,” Carrie said impatiently. This was no time to worry about protocol. “Father, the whole city is going crazy. I just saw the Confederate flag raised over the Iron Works. And I just heard our Attorney General Tucker say Virginia will secede. Is it true? Have we really seceded?”
Thomas shook his head firmly. “We have not seceded! Virginia is still a part of the Union!” A sudden roar of voices caused him to turn and stare down the street. His face paled. “Letcher said they would be here next.”
Carrie turned to follow his gaze. “They must be coming from the Iron Works!” she said as the mob surged down the road toward the Capitol.
Thomas took her arm. “I don’t think they mean any harm, but I don’t want you out here alone with them. Come inside with me.”
Carrie shook off his hand. “I want to stay out here, Father. This is no time to hide.” Somehow, Carrie knew that in the future she would be casting her lot with these impassioned people. She couldn’t explain it—she just knew she needed to stay where she was.
Thomas sighed. “Very well,” he agreed. “We’ll see what the governor has to say from here.”
Within moments, they were thronged by the milling crowd of people. Fortunately, they were all in good humor. The speeches and excitement down at the Iron Works had reassured them. They simply wanted to see their governor.
“Letcher! Letcher! Letcher!”
The columned porch of the Capitol building remained empty as the chants filled the afternoon air.
“Hoist the flag, boys!” The mighty cry was given by a man standing just a few feet away from Carrie. As if waiting for their signal, two young boys suddenly sprinted from the crowd and headed for the flagpole atop the Capitol. No one stopped them as they raced in and began a swift climb up the stairs that would take them to the roof. The whole crowd cheered them mightily as one of the boys began to climb the lightning rod that held the Stars and Stripes.
“Father!” Carrie gasped and reached out to grab his arm as she saw the clamps holding the rod began to let go. The pole swayed precariously under the weight of the agile youth. “He’s going to fall!” she cried. Staring upward, she watched as the boy fell and began to roll down the slope of the building. Carrie wanted to close her eyes and turn away, but she was hypnotized by the drama playing out before her eyes.
Suddenly, she noticed the other boy lodge himself in the gutter of the building. She shared the tension in his body as he braced himself for the impact.
Every fiber in her body strained to help him. “Stop him,” she whispered.
“He’s got him!” A mighty cheer rang out from the crowd as the boy stopped his friend’s fall. Triumphantly, they turned to the cheering crowd with grinning faces and upraised arms.
Carrie slumped against her father in relief.
“That’s just the beginning,” Thomas warned. “There won’t always be someone around to save men caught in their passions.”
A young man Carrie’s age overheard and turned to stare at Thomas. “Don’t worry, old man!” he cried. “Let those Yankees come down and try to do something. They’ll be running back to their mamas with their tails tucked between their legs.” He turned back to cheer as a mighty roar rose from the crowd.
Carrie looked upward. The two boys had accomplished their mission—the Stars and Bars waved proudly in place of the Stars and Stripes. Wild cheering continued as the sun caught the fluttering fabric and sent radiant gleams across the city. Strains of Dixie, the new song of the South, mingled with the cheers.
Governor Letcher finally appeared on the porch.
“Letcher! Letcher! Letcher!”
Governor Letcher lifted his arms to ask for quiet. Only when the crowd had settled down did he speak. His speech was brief and direct. He pledged to do his constitutional duty. His only concession to the spirit of the hour was that he would defend Virginia’s honor. He looked up at the flag fluttering high above his head. “I will remind all of you that Virginia has not seceded. We are still a part of the United States.” For a moment, he looked out at the exuberant crowd and his eyes caught those of Thomas Cromwell. The two men exchanged a deep look of understanding before the governor looked away. “Goodnight.” With those final words, Letcher turned and disappeared into the building.
Carrie knew the crowd had been undaunted by Letcher’s mild rebuff. Why, the governor had promised to defend Virginia’s honor, and there was only one way to do that! It was just a matter of time. Virginia would secede. Other men hurried forward to take the steps of the Capitol and deliver their fiery speeches.
Carrie and her father watched for a long while. When they finally began to walk away, a shout rose from the crowd in approval of a proposed resolution: that they rejoice with high, exultant, heartfelt joy at the triumph of the Southern Confederacy over the accursed government at Washington in the capture of Fort Sumter.
Thomas returned to the Capitol building, leaving Carrie to wander the streets. Though he made her promise to be careful and to return home soon. She knew he was worried, but she had to share in this experience. Darkness heightened the enthusiasm spilling over in the crowded streets. It seemed to Carrie that most of the city’s population thronged the riotous streets. Bonfires crackled on corners. Torches and illuminated buildings cast glowing light on the profuse display of Confederate flags draped over windowsills and hanging from doorways. Bells pealed and fireworks exploded as bands played the latest Southern tunes. Speeches erupted wherever there were enough people to listen. Never had Carrie seen such a wild demonstration of emotion and joy.
The people of the South were, for the moment, celebrating. Concealed by the blanket of night and the blindness of their eyes, they could not see the dark, ominous clouds envelop the city. Clouds which had lingered on the horizon, shouting out their warning to any who would listen, now converged and settled, knowing the passions that had called them could not now send them away. The course was set. There was no turning back.
Carrie was still up when her father entered the house long after midnight. He said nothing, just dropped wearily in his chair. Carrie sat quietly.
Finally Thomas spoke. “Letcher has called out the Public Guard to secure the property and buildings belonging to the United States.” He paused. “He also had the Confederate flag taken down. He replaced it with the Virginia flag.”
“Not the United States flag?” Carrie questioned, leaning forward.
Thomas shook his head. “Letcher knows Sumter has given the secessionist the final voice, but he is determined that order and legality will prevail. He has also sent commissioners to Washington to seek some kind of guarantees from Lincoln. He is still searching for some way out of this mess, but I believe he knows the inevitable is coming.”
Thomas turned to stare into the fire Micah had laid to ward off the late evening chill. “I think you need to have your things moved to Richmond, Carrie.” His voice was grave.
Carrie stared at him. “What?” she said in disbelief. “Why?” She was not at all prepared for this turn of events.
Thomas swung around to look at her. “War is coming. I know it. I’ve told you before, it won’t be the easy war everyone is talking about. There will be much tragedy and death on either side.” It was obvious he had thought this through long before now. “Letcher has already asked me to stay here to help settle all the ramifications of what is coming. I will not return home until after the war.”
He leaned forward and spoke intensely. “I don’t want you on the plantation, Carrie. I would do nothing but worry about you. There is no telling what is going to happen. Even if the war doesn’t actually reach there, you will soon be unsafe with the slaves. The spirit of rebellion is going to affect them as well.” He paused. “I am sending a letter back with you to Ike Adams. I have asked him to take on the job of completely overseeing the plantation until this is all over.” His voice was firm. “I want you to come to Richmond to live, Carrie.”
Carrie gazed at him for several long moments. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but equally firm. “I can’t do that, Father.”
Thomas didn’t look surprised, but he shook his head. “I am not asking you, Carrie. I’m telling you this time. I want you in Richmond.”
Carrie took a deep breath. “Father, you left me on the plantation six months ago because it was what you had to do. I have never begrudged you that.” She paused, not wanting her words to hurt him. “I have always been independent, but leaving me on my own out there made me even more so.”
She saw a look of pain flicker across her father’s face. “It’s not a bad thing, Father. I rather like being independent. It’s other people who seem to have a hard time with it.” She paused again, searching for the right words. “It’s more than that, though. At one time, all I wanted was to leave Cromwell and move to Richmond. I would have jumped at the opportunity you are giving me. It’s different now,” she said. “My place is on the plantation for now. I believe that’s where I’m supposed to be. I have to go back, and you need to let me do what I have to do.”
Thomas looked at her for several long minutes. Not a sound stirred the quiet of the room except the occasional crack of an ember. Finally he nodded. “As usual, I’m going to let you have your way.” He smiled faintly, as if determined to face defeat gracefully. “It’s different this time, though. I’m not giving in to a strong-willed daughter. I am accepting the beliefs of a strong woman who knows what she wants. I will still worry about you, but it seems we have two different jobs to do.”
Carrie moved forward and sank down at his feet, laying her head on his knee like she had done as a child. She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Father.”
Two days later, Thomas strode into the house, his whole body held in stern lines. “Lincoln has gone too far!” he proclaimed.
Carrie had just returned from a walk in the city. She laid aside her hat and walked over to her father’s side. “What has happened?”
“Lincoln has requested that Virginia commission eight thousand men to join an army of seventy-five thousand, with the aim of putting down the Southern rebellion.”
Carrie gasped. “He wants Virginians to fight against the South? They will never do that!”
“You’re so right,” Thomas said. “Lincoln has gone too far this time. The convention is meeting tomorrow. I am sure the vote will be for secession. However strongly most of us feel about the Union, we are Virginians and Southerners first. We will never fight against those we are so closely linked with. Lincoln’s choice to use force is a grave mistake.” He shook his head. “I knew it was coming. Still,” he sighed, “it breaks my heart. What this country had was glorious...” His voice trailed off as he gazed absently out the window at the profusion of flowers heralding spring. Carrie joined him, linking her arm with his. Together, they stared into the future.
Carrie could sense the dark clouds settling over her beloved country. Their time had come. She thought about all she had learned in the past year and accepted the reality that, from the very first moment slavery had been permitted in a country founded on freedom, their presence had been permitted. They had long boiled on the horizon, but now, fed by passion and greed, they were at full strength and intent on devouring everything in their path.
Carrie shuddered and edged closer to her father. Neither spoke as she allowed her thoughts to roam. One year ago, she had made the decision to live her life honestly, letting no one else’s opinion form who she would be. It had been a year of massive personal change, challenges and radical actions. There was not a single one she regretted, but never had she felt so alone, nor so completely fulfilled.
War had come. She would face it.
Carrie had just settled into the carriage seat when she saw her father hurrying up the street. “Father,” she said as he drew near enough, “we said our goodbyes this morning.”
Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I thought you might want this before you leave,” he said, handing it to her.
Carrie looked down at the familiar handwriting. “Robert,” she whispered. She thought of waiting until she was alone to open the letter, but her impatience and curiosity won out. It took only a moment to break the seal and pull out the single sheet of linen paper.
Dear Carrie,
Virginia is now a part of the Confederacy. As expected, I have been offered a commission as an officer in the new army. I am now Lieutenant Robert Borden. I suddenly realize I find no great thrill in the honor bestowed upon me. The reality that I may be fighting friends I spent years in college with has settled upon my heart.
Carrie, I am doing what you asked. I am trying to find out the truth. You are not the only one to challenge me recently. For me, there are now two battles. One for my country, the other to determine my own beliefs. Please pray for me. I love you, Carrie. I will return.
Love,
Robert
Carrie smiled as she refolded the letter. Was there hope after all?
Thomas watched closely, then reached into the carriage to give her a hug, holding her tightly for a long moment. “I love you.” He paused, and Carrie looked at him expectantly. “Promise me something, Carrie,” he continued. “Promise me you will leave the plantation if it becomes too dangerous.” Sudden tears sprang into his eyes. “I’ve lost one of the two women in my life. I can’t bear the thought of losing the other as well.”
“I promise,” Carrie whispered. She brushed back her tears and kissed her father’s cheek. “I promise…”
To Be Continued…