Crossing (54 page)

“Thank you, ma’am,” Yancy mumbled. He seemed almost—but not quite—as stunned as Dr. Hayden.

Lily asked eagerly, “Have you made any plans yet? Set a date?”

Now a shadow crossed over Yancy’s face, and he focused and became intent. “No, ma’am. I thought, somehow, that Lorena might want to wait until the war is over before we got married—”

“No,” Lorena said firmly. “No, I don’t want to wait.”

“I don’t either, once I thought about it,” Yancy agreed. “I’ve thought about a lot of things since General Jackson died. One thing I realized, since I knew him and Mrs. Jackson before, they didn’t waste time. They took every possible minute that they had together and treasured it, no matter what the circumstances. I know that if you had told Mrs. Jackson before she married him that he would die so soon, so young, after they’d been married less than six years and when their only daughter was only four months old, she would say that she wouldn’t hesitate, she would marry him anyway, as soon as she could. And that’s the way we feel,” he finished firmly.

“Exactly. I’m just sorry that we can’t get married today,” Lorena grumbled.

“What?” Dr. Hayden said again.

“General Jackson is going to Lexington, to lie in state one day. And then on Friday he’s to be buried. With your permission, sir, ma’am, I’d like for Lorena to come to Lexington, to be with me these next few hard days. It would be such a comfort to me,” Yancy said, now confident. “And then I would like for us to visit my family on Saturday. I will bring her back on Sunday. And then I have to return to Chancellorsville.”

“Of course,” Lily agreed instantly. “That will be perfectly fine. Missy can go as your chaperone, dear. I only wish that Jesse and I were well enough to travel to Lexington for General Jackson’s funeral and then to go visit Becky and Daniel. But I think it would be too much of a strain, don’t you, dear?”

“Hmm? Oh. Oh yes. A strain,” Dr. Hayden repeated.

Lily patted his knee. “Poor dear, he hadn’t a clue. Of course, I knew all along.”

Lorena put her head to the side, like a small bird. “You did? However did you know, Mother?”

Lily smiled, a sweet expression that was often on her face. “I hope you find out, my darling Lorena, because only then will you understand. Mothers know. Mothers always know.”

“I want to know,” Lorena said softly, looking at Yancy. “And I dare to hope it may be soon.”

On that night they embalmed him.

The famous artist, Frederick Volck, and his assistant, Pietro Zamboggi, made his death mask. Oddly enough, Volck had visted Stonewall Jackson’s camp in December of 1862, at Fredericksburg, when Lee, Jackson, and Longstreet were camped on the heights above the town and faced Burnside’s doomed troops below. Volck had even done some sketches of Stonewall after his staff persuaded him to pose on a stool. As he was prone to do, Jackson fell asleep, and the staff roared with laughter, which woke him up. He was embarrassed but good-natured about it. The work which the artist did this night was very different from that cheerful scene.

He lay in state the next morning at the executive mansion, in the Reception Room. The public was not allowed in there, but any person who could scrape up any connection to the Confederate government and came to the mansion that night was allowed to view the shadowed features. Many lingered for long moments, and many more tears were shed.

Without being asked, and without consulting anyone, Yancy, Peyton, Chuckins, and Sandy came to the executive mansion at dawn that Tuesday. They were greeted at the door by a disdainful butler. “And you are …?” he asked snootily.

“We are General Jackson’s honor guard,” Yancy answered firmly.

“I have no knowledge of this,” the butler said suspiciously.

Yancy stepped up to stand very close—too close—to the butler. He looked down at him; the man was at least a foot shorter than Yancy. In a soft tone that brooked no nonsense and may even have had a bit of menace in it, he said, “Then you may go wake up Mrs. Jackson and ask her about us. She has given us permission to escort her husband all the way to his resting place.” This, of course, was not strictly true. But Yancy knew Anna Jackson, and he knew that she would, and did, wish it.

The butler took a hasty step back, almost stumbling. “No, no, of course I wouldn’t dream of disturbing Mrs. Jackson. Please come in and follow me to the Reception Room.”

Yancy took his place at the head of the general’s coffin with Peyton at the foot. They stood unmoving at strict parade attention, staring straight ahead. After four hours, Chuckins and Sandy relieved them. They took these shifts until the afternoon, when General Jackson’s pallbearers and funeral procession arrived, and Jackson was taken to the House of Representatives.

His coffin was placed in the hall and put on a white-draped altar before the speaker’s bench, with the Confederate flag draped over it. The assembled crowd to witness the placing of General Jackson in state included President Jefferson Davis and his aides, several generals and other high-ranking officers and their staffs, the governor, the cabinet, Richmond city officials, and a number of Virginia and Richmond politicians. They had a long prayer.

After it was over, Yancy pushed people aside and the four friends marched to the general’s casket. The crowd seemed stunned, but before anyone could say anything, Anna went to Yancy and put her hand out. He took it in both of his.

“Thank you, Yancy,” she said softly, but it echoed throughout the silent room. “He was very proud of you, all of you. He would be glad that you are here.” She turned and swept out, her long black skirts whispering on the polished floor. Immediately the crowd broke up and followed her. Yancy and Peyton took their stations guarding the general.

More than twenty thousand people filed through the hall that day and evening. They piled so many flowers about the bier that some had to be taken away to make room for people to pass by the coffin. As it grew later, officials made several attempts to close the doors, but they were soundly shouted down by the hundreds and hundreds of people who had waited in the line of mourners so long and so patiently. Taking pity on them, Governor Letcher ordered the doors left open until everyone who wanted to see the general had filed by and said their good-byes.

Yancy, Peyton, Chuckins, and Sandy guarded him all day until midnight. They never showed any weariness at all. They never wavered. They stayed at his side until the last mourner left the hall of the House of Representatives.

The next day, Stonewall returned to the institute for the last time. By train he went to Gordonsville and then Lynchburg. At each stop the station was crowded with hundreds of people. They pressed close to Anna’s special car, crying out to her. Many times they called out, pleading to see Julia. Anna took pity on them, and Hetty held Julia up to the window dozens of times to be kissed. Julia bore it well, never crying, never fussy, often smiling.

From Lynchburg they took a canal barge to Lexington. The four friends insisted this time on leading the funeral procession to the institute. There VMI cadets took over the escort, marching with their arms reversed. Jackson’s big gray horse that had been a gift from an admirer was the riderless horse. He was led by a VMI cadet, empty boots in the stirrups turned backward.

They took Stonewall to his old lecture room, which had not been used since he left. There he lay the entire day, and another long procession of grieving men and women passed by the window. Roses were piled high beneath it. All day the slow, mournful firingof the institute’s cannon sounded, mourning the loss of their most revered and valiant soldier.

Daniel, Becky, Lorena, and Missy stood at the front of the crowd that lined the way to Virginia Military Institute. Yancy, Peyton, Chuckins, and Sandy led the funeral procession with great somber grace. When the cadets met them, the four friends returned the cadets’ salutes, turned and rode to the rear of the procession, then turned to the side and dismounted. Yancy hurried to join his family.

After Stonewall Jackson had been placed in state at the institute, they all returned to the farm. Daniel had brought the buggy, so Becky and Missy rode with them, while Yancy rode Midnight.

The Shenandoah Valley was breathtaking in spring. Every scene was richly colored in a hundred shades of green, every field had riotous wildflowers blooming, every house they passed had luxurious gardens surrounding them. Lorena couldn’t see well enough out of the buggy’s back window, so, being the outspoken lady that she was, she demanded that Daniel let her sit with him on the driver’s bench. Of course, Becky was just as demanding, and so she climbed up with them, and the three of them sat crowded together, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Yancy laughed at them. Since he had at last found his comfort in Lorena, his mind and soul and even his body felt lighter, more alive. He could smile and laugh now.

As she had done countless times before, Zemira came out onto the porch to meet them. Behind her scooted Callie Jo, now five years old, and David, who was three. They weren’t shy children at all.

Callie Jo ran to Yancy, supremely unmindful of Midnight’s prancing hooves, while David waddled to the side of the buggy, held his arms up, and lisped, “Hold ’im.”

Yancy jumped down and swooped Callie Jo up high in the air. “Hello, Jo-Jo. Missed me?”

“Yes, Nance,” she answered in her little-girl voice. “Now, ride me on Minnight.”

“Not now. Later. Right now I want you to meet my friend Miss Lorena. You’ll like her.”

Zemira came straight up to Lorena when she climbed down from the buggy, threw her arms around her, and hugged her soundly. Then she stood back and looked at her with dancing eyes. “Well, if you aren’t just the tiniest little bitty thing I ever saw in my life. And Becky says you can boss Yancy just fine. Big trouble in a little package, I’ll bet.”

Holding Callie Jo, Yancy came up to them and said, “You know it, Grandmother. But she’s pretty nice. Most of the time.”

They all went into the house, talking. As usual, Zemira had cooked an enormous meal for them—ham, fried chicken, new potatoes, sauerkraut, green beans, creamed corn, and, of course, Yancy’s favorite, Amish Friendship Bread. They found their seats, Callie next to David, in his homemade high chair, and Lorena sitting by Yancy. Without a word, Daniel, Becky, Zemira, and even Callie Jo and David bowed their heads. Lorena glanced at Yancy, and he bowed his, too. Silence ensued. Yancy looked back up as he realized Lorena might be puzzled at their silent praying as he was when he first came here. After a few moments, he pinched her arm, and she looked up to see everyone starting to help themselves to the delicious food.

They kept the conversation light during the meal, mostly talking about the farm, the crops, the doings in the community. No talk of war or death shadowed this family time together.

After they finished and cleared away, Becky and Zemira put the children to bed and they all gathered in the parlor. It was a cool night, and Yancy and Daniel built a small, cozy fire.

Yancy and Lorena sat close together on the settee, and across from them Daniel, Becky, and Zemira sat on the sofa. Yancy reached over and took Lorena’s hand. “I have two very important things to tell you,” he said. “The first is that I spoke to Reverend White, the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Lexington. Mrs. Jackson had been kind enough to write to him and tell him of my situation. You know that I’ve been a Christian for almost two years now, but I’ve never been baptized. I want you to be with me when I am, of course. But I know that no bishop in the Amish church will baptize me. Mrs. Jackson explained this to Reverend White, and he’s agreed to come out and baptize me here, so that you can all be present.”

“Thank the Lord!” Zemira exclaimed, beaming. “That will be a day of rejoicing, for sure and certain, grandson!”

“It will,” Daniel agreed. “I had thought about this, you know, Yancy. But I didn’t know how to solve it. Many ministers would be wary of baptizing someone that is not in their congregation.”

Yancy nodded. “I can understand that. Mrs. Jackson understood immediately. I had the opportunity to be there when she and General Jackson had their baby baptized, and I visited with Mrs. Jackson the next day. She told me of Dr. White, and she must have written to him that very day. Pretty soon I got a kind letter from him, welcoming me into the service of God and assuring me that he would be honored to baptize me at any place I chose.”