On to Richmond (26 page)

             
“You poor dear,” she clucked.  Just then they reached the open door of a room at the far end of the long hallway on the second floor of the home.  “Hobbs, I have some company for you,” she said gently.

             
Carrie followed her in the room and stared at the young boy lying on the bed, propped up by several pillows.  A bandage across his chest spoke of a bullet wound.  His brown eyes were tired, but there was still a hint of a sparkle in them. 

             
“Miss Cromwell, this is Warren Hobbs.  He has told me everyone just calls him Hobbs.  He likes it better that way.”             

             
Carrie nodded, wondering when she was going to discover why she had been brought up to visit this stranger. 

             
“Hobbs, this is Carrie Cromwell.  I don’t know who she is, but she just showed up at my door looking for Robert Borden.”

             
Hobbs’ eyes lit eagerly.  “Robert Borden?  You mean my Lieutenant Borden, ma’am?”

             
Carrie moved forward eagerly to stand beside the bed.  “You know Lieutenant Borden?” she asked breathlessly.

             
“Know him?  Know him?” Hobbs exclaimed.  “Why, he saved my life, ma’am.”

             
Mrs. Fenmore laughed.  “He has talked of little else besides his lieutenant since he arrived here a couple of days ago.”  She patted Hobbs’ hand and moved away.  “I’ll leave you two to talk.”    She pulled up a chair for Carrie and left the room.

             
“How do you know the lieutenant?”  Hobbs asked eagerly.  “Are you his girl?”

             
Carrie shook her head.  “He’s just a special friend of mine.”  Hobbs looked at her closely but didn’t say anything.  He didn’t have to.  His look said it all. 

             
“The lieutenant is a prince of a man, Miss Cromwell.  If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive right now.  He risked his life for me, he did!”  Carrie’s questioning look drove him on.  “We were down in that thicket with Union soldiers raining bullets on us.  Some of the boys didn’t make it out.”

             
Carrie shuddered as his face darkened with the memory.  She couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like. 

             
Hobbs continued.  “One of those bullets caught me right in the chest.  The doc said it was a wonder it didn’t kill me.  It probably would have if the lieutenant hadn’t carried me out.”  His face darkened again.  “The lieutenant picked me up and slung me over his shoulder when they yelled
‘Retreat’.
  Hurt like the dickens but I didn’t say nothing.  I sure didn’t want to get left behind in that slaughter hole.  Then the lieutenant took off running up that hill with bullets whizzing all around us and me slapping on his back.”  He paused, remembering.  “I passed out not long after that, I guess.  The next thing I knew I was in a surgeon’s tent with them probing in my chest for a bullet.  Then I think I passed out again.”  He gave her a weak grin. 

             
Carrie reached out and grasped his hand.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

             
“Heck, don’t feel sorry for me.  I’m one of the lucky ones.  I’m still alive, and I still got all my arms and legs.  Some of the others weren’t so lucky.” 

             
Carrie nodded.  “I know.”  Silence fell between them for a long minute, and then Carrie leaned closer.  “Lieutenant Borden.  Is he all right?”  She couldn’t wait one more second to know. 

             
Hobbs nodded.  “The lieutenant came out without a scratch on him!”

             
Carrie sagged against her chair in relief while Hobbs continued. 

             
“He came to see me before I got put on the train.  Said it took him three hours of hunting to find me.”   Hobbs’ face filled with something like adoration.  “He wanted to make sure I was okay.  I told him I would be right as rain soon and be back to join him in the next battle if them Yankees got enough guts to try and take us on again.” 

             
“So he is still up at Manassas?”

             
“Yep.  Least he was a few days ago.  Don’t you be worrying none, Miss Cromwell.  The lieutenant’s just fine.  And he’s one prince of a man!”

             
Carrie nodded gratefully, her heart swelling with thankfulness.  “Thank you so much, Hobbs.”   She could understand why Robert had been so taken with the boy.  His sparkling eyes and rust-colored mop of hair made him very appealing.  He couldn’t be that much younger than her, but he looked like he was barely in his teens.  “Where are you from, Hobbs?”

             
“Out in western Virginia, ma’am.  My family been farming up in those mountains for a long time.”

             
“Does your mother know you’re all right?  Does she know you got hurt?  Has she been to see you?”

             
Hobbs looked at her in astonishment.  “Been to see me?  Why, my family ain’t been farther than a few miles from home ever since I been born.  Takes a lot of money to go places, ma’am.  I reckon I’m the first one to go very far away,” he said proudly.  “But my mama, she ought to know I’m all right.  Mrs. Fenmore done wrote a letter for me and sent it off. My mama might not have got it yet, but she will sometime.  I told her not to be worrying about me  that I made it through that battle just fine.”

             
“Did you tell her you got shot?”

             
“Shucks no, ma’am.  Why would I do a thing like that?  It would just make her fret about me that much more.  No, I just told her I was back here in Richmond a little while after winning the big battle.”  He grinned at Carrie.  “What she don’t know can’t hurt her, you know.  She’s got plenty to be worrying about with all them mouths at home to feed.  I don’t need to add another worry.  Besides, I’ll probably be home soon.  I don’t see those Yankees coming after more of what we gave them a few days ago.  I reckon it will all be over soon.  And then won’t I have a story to tell!” 

Carrie handed her bags to Micah.  Then she turned to her father.  “I have everything now, Father.  I guess I’m ready to go.”  She was suddenly reluctant to leave him. 

              The city was still rejoicing in its victory but the somber realities of war had settled in with a vengeance as house after house filled with the wounded.  There was hardly an hour went by that a funeral procession did not wind its way down to Oakwood Cemetery where land had been put aside for  soldiers to be laid to rest.   The city, already stretched beyond its limits, was being stretched even more.  The people were rising valiantly to the effort, but the strain was seen on almost every face.  Her father was no exception. 

             
Thomas walked with her out onto the porch and then engulfed her in a hug.  “I’m going to miss you, Carrie.”

             
Carrie’s throat tightened as she heard the roughness in his voice.  “I’m going to miss you, too.”  She pulled back to look into his face.  “I love you,” she whispered. 

             
“I love you, too,” Thomas said, forcing a smile to his face.  Then he cleared his throat.  “You tell Ike Adams to keep taking such good care of things.  And tell him to do whatever you want about those fields.  Of course, you shouldn’t have to.  I wrote him a long letter with all the details.  You have that, don’t you?”

             
Carrie nodded, and patted her bag.  “It’s right here.  You don’t have anything to worry about.  The overseer and I are taking care of things just fine,” she said smoothly.  Now that she was headed home she could hardly wait to get back to Rose and Moses.  Her heart longed to spend time with Sarah.  She had been in the city almost three weeks.  Her soul longed for the open expanses of the plantation again even while a part of her still yearned to stay in the city. 

             
“Take care of yourself,” Thomas said for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

             
Carrie nodded.  “I will.  You too,” she added.  She wished there was some way to reassure her father.  She had never seen so much worry in his face.  She knew he hated having her so far away.  She knew he felt guilty because he was depending on her to keep the plantation going.  She also knew he was concerned about her safety if any more battles happened soon.  He was confident there would be more.  He just didn’t know when or where.

             
She reached up and gave him another hug.  “I’m a big girl.  I’m going to be just fine.  You do your job.  I promise I’ll do mine.”

             
Thomas managed another smile and then stepped away.  “If you want to be there by dark, you need to be going.” 

             
Carrie waved until she was out of sight and then turned her attention to home.  Already her mind was full of plans for providing food for the city. 

             
“Are you comfortable, Miss Cromwell?”

             
Carrie smiled up at the large, burly man her father had hired to take her home.  “I’m fine, Spencer.  Isn’t it a lovely day?”  Surprise showed on the black man’s face.   It was obvious he wasn’t used to having casual conversation with a white person. 

             
“Yes, ma’am.  It is at that,” he responded.  Then he fell silent. 

             
Carrie left him to his thoughts.  She had plenty of her own to occupy her.  They had only been moving down the road a few minutes when a mass of movement caught her attention.  She looked more closely.  What in the world was a group of people, including well-dressed men and women, doing walking around outside of one of the tobacco warehouses?  Leaning forward in her seat, she tried to figure out what was causing so much interest.  She could see nothing - just the sturdy brick walls of one of the tobacco warehouses.  “What in the world is going on, Spencer?”  He would certainly know.

             
Spencer looked back at her with a wide grin.  “That be the new prison, Miss Cromwell.”

             
“The new prison?” Carrie echoed.

             
Spencer nodded excitedly.  “Yes, m’am.  The soldiers done brought in a lot of them Union men a couple of days ago.  I heard tell the army marched right in one of them warehouses and told the manager they was taking it over.  That it would be a prison from now on.  That one everybody be walking around is the one for the officers.  Folks been swarming around outside ever since they found out them Yankees was in there!” 

             
Carrie stared at the imposing walls.  Now that Spencer had said something, she remembered her father talking about the prisoners who had been taken after the Battle of Bull Run.

             
Spencer must have sensed that she knew nothing because he kept right on talking.  “They brought them soldiers in late at night on the train.  I done heard they didn’t want them to see much of the city.  So’s they couldn’t send back information.  You can’t talk about what you don’t see, you know.”

             
Carrie nodded and then studied Spencer carefully.  He seemed genuinely excited about the prospect of Union prisoners.  “How do you feel about this war, Spencer?” she asked suddenly.  Spencer looked back at her for a moment as if deciding whether it was safe to answer.   She looked back at him with a level gaze. 

             
“I reckon as how I want to see the South win, ma’am,” he said strongly.

             
Carrie gazed at him in surprise.  “You do?”

             
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated.

             
“Why?”  Carrie couldn’t think of anything else to say.  Was he just saying that or was he afraid to be honest with her?  She knew people were being jailed for northern sympathies.  Yet he seemed so genuinely excited. 

             
Spencer shrugged.  “I ain’t got no complaints about my life, ma’am.  I got me steady work.   Sure, most of my money goes to my owner, but I get me some on the side for my work, too.  My family we all eat good, and we ain’t never been treated bad.”  He paused, and then continued.  “I got me some family up north.  They work harder than me to make a living.  And it be awful cold up there.  I don’t want to leave the South.  It be my home.  I don’t got’s no idea what to expect  if them Yankees come down here and try to take things over.  My mama used to tell me it was better to fight a devil you know than to have to fight a devil you didn’t know.  I reckon black folks in this country always going to be fighting some kind of devil.  I reckon I’d rather fight the one I know.”