On to Richmond (40 page)

             
“He doesn’t know,” Carrie admitted.  Then she told him, as briefly as possible, of her struggle to know where she stood on slavery.  “Several of our slaves have already run away,” she said.  “I told them they could go.”

             
“Why don’t these other two just take off, too?”

             
It was a fair question.  “They are too special to me.  Rose has been my best friend since I was a child.  She is like a sister to me.  I can’t bear to think of her and Moses being chased by slave hunters and hound dogs.  There has to be a way that is not so dangerous.”  She saw no reason to go into the recent revelation of Rose’s actual relationship to her. 

             
Pastor Anthony finally looked as if he were convinced of her intent.  He stood and began to pace within the confines of his small office.  “Any escape is dangerous, Miss Cromwell.  Especially now.  More and more slaves are escaping, thinking the North will welcome them eagerly.  The war seems to have given them the motivation to pursue their freedom. Owners have responded by sending out more slave hunters.”  He stared out the window for a long moment and then swung back to face her, evidently having made up his mind.  “I will help you.”

             
Carrie gasped and leaned forward with a wide smile on her face.  “Oh, thank you, Pastor Anthony.  I just knew you would be the right person to talk to.”

             
“Does anyone know you are here?” he asked sharply.  “There must be total secrecy.”

             
“No one but my driver.  I would trust Sam with my life.”

             
“Very well,” Pastor Anthony said with a warm smile.  “We have a lot of planning to do.” 

Carrie gasped as she entered the opulent ballroom on her father’s arm.    They had already greeted their host and hostess at the door.  Their elegantly attired escort, bowed slowly, flashed his white teeth, and backed away, leaving them standing at the door to the ballroom. 

              “Surprised?” Thomas asked with a smile.

             
“Of course I am!”  Carrie said, gazing around her.  “You’d never know there was a war going on.”  At least not until you saw the preponderance of gray splashed among the sea of bright dresses.  The contrast to the city she had left just six weeks ago was amazing.   She had thought it silly when Rose suggested she bring a ball gown but was glad she had acquiesced.  She knew she was appropriately dressed in her brilliant green gown with the cream-colored trim.  Her father had told her it matched her sparkling eyes to perfection. 

             
All social functions had ceased leading up to Bull Run and afterward.  All energy had been channeled into caring for the sick and wounded.  But the crisis was over.  The South had been victorious.  It was time to celebrate.  After all, Richmond was known for its high society.  And now, with its influx of government officials and military personnel, it was time to once again live up to its reputation.

             
Carrie couldn’t help the thrill of delight that coursed through her as she looked over the dance floor.  There were many aspects of southern society that didn’t appeal to her, but she loved the dances - everything about them:  the brightly colored dresses, the impeccably attired men, the music that even now was causing her foot to tap, the long rows of food that tempted the eye and the stomach.  But especially the dancing!  Her body began to sway slightly in anticipation of what was to come. 

             
Thomas smiled down at her.  “May I have this dance, Miss Cromwell?”

             
Carrie smiled up at him radiantly.  “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Cromwell.” 

             
The music flowed around them in a glorious waltz as Thomas swept her across the floor.  It had been ages since she had danced with her father.  He was the one who had first taught her, encouraging her to learn to love it when she insisted she would rather be out on Granite.  He had insisted the time would come when she would love dancing as much as riding.  She had laughed unbelievingly then - now she knew he had been right. 

             
The music swirled around them as they glided across the floor and around the room.  Laughter and talk rang through the air.  The touch of coolness in the air spoke of the reality of fall creeping up on them. 

             
When the music stopped, a young man in gray approached.  “May I have this dance, ma’am?”

             
Carrie smiled, and in her mind was transported back to the times of joyful revelry before there was a war.   For this night she would ignore the significance of the gray uniforms.  She would simply see these young men as eager dancing partners.  She nodded, then stepped into the young captain’s arms, and lost herself in the music once again. 

             
She lost count of her partners before she finally begged for a drink and brief rest.  Her current partner, a dashing young lieutenant, immediately departed to fetch a drink for her.  Carrie sank into a chair and gazed around the room.  All the best of Richmond society were here.  There were several faces she didn’t recognize, but the look of authority on their faces identified them as new Confederate government officials.   The unfamiliar, beautifully attired women must be their wives. 

             
“Having a good time?” a soft voice asked in her ear.

             
Carrie turned and smiled instantly at the woman settling down in the chair next to her.  “Mrs. Lewis!  It’s wonderful to see you again.” 

             
“I haven’t seen you since the night at Spotswood when we were awaiting news from the battlefield.  I hope your news was good.”

             
“Yes.  Thank you.  My friend is doing quite well.  My heart still grieves, however, for the men who were killed or wounded.” 

             
“Mine as well.  And please, call me Victoria.”

             
Carrie nodded.  “Only if you will call me Carrie.”

             
Victoria nodded pleasantly.  “That was quite a dashing man you started off the dance with,” she observed. 

             
“The most dashing man here,” Carrie agreed instantly.  “That was my father, Thomas Cromwell.  And you haven’t seen me around town because I left just a few days after we talked to return to our plantation.”
              “You don’t live here in the city?”  Victoria’s voice was surprised.  “You must live with your mother on the plantation.  How hard it must be not to have your father at home.”

             
“My mother is dead.  I am in charge of the plantation while my father works here in town.”  Carrie caught sight of her father surrounded by a knot of men.  He caught her eye across the room and smiled.

             
“You run the plantation all by yourself?”  Victoria asked, astonished. 

             
“Well, I have a lot of help,” Carrie said in amusement as she turned her attention back to the conversation.

             
Victoria looked at her appraisingly.  “You must be quite a resourceful young woman.”

             
“I hope so.  That’s how my father raised me,” Carrie responded with a smile.  She knew other women were amazed by what she was doing.  There was nothing special about it to her.  She was simply doing what she had to do.  She suspected women all over the South were being forced to do the same thing now that their husbands and fathers were fighting a war.

             
Just then the lieutenant walked up with two drinks in his hand.  “Miss Cromwell,” he said, handing her a tall glass of lemonade. 

             
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”  Victoria made a move as if to leave, but Carrie put her hand on her arm.  “Please don’t leave.”  Then she turned to the lieutenant.  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit here with my friend for a while.”

             
The Lieutenant responded with a bow.  “I hope I may claim you for another dance later?”

             
“Of course,” Carrie said graciously.  Then she turned back to Victoria.  The plainly dressed woman with the tired eyes drew her.  There was something real about her lack of care about the impression she made.  Oh, her clothes were well made and her hair was expertly done, but it lacked the flash of the other ladies.  “You don’t really like these affairs, do you?” Carrie asked suddenly.

             
Victoria shrugged.  “They all tend to become the same after a while.  Society is society.  I have spent the last ten years in Washington, DC.  When Louisiana seceded, we came here.”  She paused and then smiled briefly.  “All I really want to do is return to Louisiana and my flowers and gardens.  I miss home terribly.”

             
“I’m sorry,” Carrie said sincerely.

             
“You must think me quite boorish.”

             
Carrie shook her head.  “Certainly not.  I enjoy these events because I get to attend them so infrequently.  I’m afraid if they were regular occurrences I would become quite bored with them as well.  There are too many other things I would rather be doing.” 

             
Victoria gazed at her for a moment.  “Thank you,” the older woman said quietly.  “I must say, in all fairness, that life here is more interesting than in Washington.  Maybe I should say that I feel as if I serve more of a purpose.  It’s really quite interesting to see the changes taking place in ladies I have known all my life.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“Well, instead of lounging around in rocking chairs, they are all terribly busy.  Everyone seems to have knitting or crochet needles in their hands nowadays.  I have been to every store in this town in hunt of more skeins of wool, but there is none to be found.  I am planning a trip to Petersburg next week in hopes of finding some there. I keep watching the paper and hoping there will be news of a supply that has gotten past the blockade or been smuggled in.  I’m not sure how I feel about this war, but I most certainly want to see all our boys warm and cozy this winter.”  She took a breath then continued.  “Mrs. Henningsen brought home dozens and dozens of yards of cotton sheeting.  That should keep us busy for quite a while.”

             
“Cotton sheeting?  What will you do with that?”
              “Have you not heard about the new hospital to be built?”  When Carrie shook her head, she continued.  “Dr. William McCaw is behind the effort.  He has recently received permission to convert some newly constructed barracks on Chimborazo Hill into a military hospital.  I believe he plans on it being quite large.”

             
“They are expecting more battles and many more wounded soldiers,” Carrie said flatly.

             
Victoria nodded.  “Most people are finally shedding themselves of the ridiculous notion this is going to be a short war.  They have seen the number of wounded pour in from a battle we
won
.  Reality says we must be ready if the tide turns the other way.”

             
“Thank you for your candor,” Carrie said softly.  Her heart ached for the many soldiers she had seen in her hunt for Robert.  Men who would return home without arms or legs to live the rest of their lives.

             
Victoria shrugged.  “The South railroaded people into this war as far as I’m concerned.”

             
Carrie stared at her in amazement.  This lady’s husband was an aide to the President?  When Victoria threw back her head and laughed, Carrie realized how attractive she was.  New life leapt to her face, and her tired eyes took on a sparkle. 

             
“Might as well be honest about it.”  Then her voice grew grim. “Now that we have so many of our boys fighting this war, I intend to do all I can to take care of them.”

             
There was something about her eyes...  “Do you have sons in the army?” Carrie asked. 

             
Tears sprang to Victoria’s eyes.  “Three of them.  Two are fighting for the South.  One is a Union officer.”  Then she waved her hand.  “I have a lot to be thankful for.  My son in the North will probably never see action because of a vision problem.  He works in the offices of one of the military departments.  My other two boys are still down in Louisiana.  They haven’t had to fight yet.”