On to Richmond (27 page)

             
Carrie stared at him.  “Thank you for being so honest.”  His candor had left her slightly speechless.

             
Spencer shrugged.  “I know you ain’t like most white folks, Miss Cromwell.”

             
“How in the world do you know that?”  Carrie had never laid eyes on Spencer until today. 

             
He just shrugged again.  “Word gets around, Miss Cromwell.  Word gets around.”

             
Just then Carrie’s attention was jerked back to the new prison warehouse by loud yelling. 

             
“There they are!”

             
“Look at the Yankees!”

             
“Hope you have a good time in Richmond!” another taunted.

             
Carrie willed the carriage to go faster.  She just wanted to get home.  She had no desire to taunt prisoners and make their lives more miserable than they already were.    The carriage was directly in front of the prison when a barrage of rocks thrown by the hecklers hit the brick walls and caused Carrie to snap her head up.  For just a moment, she looked up and saw the row of faces staring down from the second and third floor windows. 

             
One face caused her to grab both sides of the carriage with her hands and gasp.   “Matthew Justin!”  she breathed in a shocked whisper. 

             
She leaned forward and spoke crisply.  “Turn the carriage around, Spencer.  I want to go back to my father’s house.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

              Carrie gazed up at the tall brick walls of the former Harwood Factory.  The three-story building on the southwest corner of 26th and Main Streets had been a tobacco factory until just recently.  The first commandeered tobacco warehouse had proven too small for the number of prisoners taken, so this adjacent building had been put into use for the Union officers.  The scent of tobacco was still very strong.  Carrie had gone into the warehouses with her father often.  She knew the rooms were large and airy.  She also knew the windows were open to the elements. 

             
“Stop here, Micah,” she ordered as they came even with the large doors.  She jumped out of the carriage, clutching the papers that would grant her entrance to the prison.  It had taken both her father and Governor Letcher to make this visit possible.  Without their influence, she would have been laughed out of the prison if she had dared approach it. 

             
Just as she stepped down, a long line of carriages made their way slowly up the street.  A score of young ladies peered out and up at the windows of the prison.  Carrie could hear them as they rode by. 

             
“Why, wouldn’t it be just awful if one of those Yankee officers were to look out the window right now?”  one asked in a contrived voice of horror. 

             
“Why, you know how improper it is for a Southern lady to look upon the face of one of those
foreign devils
!”  Another exclaimed in mock horror.  Then she looked eagerly toward the windows.  Her disappointment at not seeing any faces was obvious.

             
Most of the ladies were much more discreet, hiding their faces behind their fans as they cast sideways glances at the window.  Suddenly a couple of the women noticed Carrie stepping from her carriage.  “Driver, stop!” one of them commanded sharply.  Then she spoke to Carrie.  “Are you really going into that prison?” she asked.

             
“I am.”

             
The fashionably dressed woman stared at her for a long moment.  “Haven’t I seen you before?  Is your father involved in the government in some way?  Surely I’ve seen you at one of the dances.”

             
“I suppose that’s possible,” Carrie said carefully.  It was obvious the other woman did not approve of her going into the prison.  She smiled and began to move toward the door.  “Have a nice day,” she murmured as she edged away.

             
She could hear the woman’s voice behind her.  “Well, really!  You would hardly think one of our very own would be pandering to Union prisoners.  What in the world is possessing you to go in with those Yankee devils?”  Her high voice rose shrilly as she hurled her question after Carrie. 

             
Carrie held her head high and continued to walk steadily toward the door.  She had tried reasoning with unreasoning prejudice and hatred before.  If she had thought it would do one whit of good, she would have turned around and talked to the woman.  Knowing that it wouldn’t, she chose to ignore it. 

             
A scowling young man opened the heavy, wooden door in response to her knock.  “What can I do for you, ma’am?” he asked in a gruff voice.

             
Carrie eyed the young man dressed in his Confederate uniform.  “I have come to visit one of your prisoners.”

             
The guard laughed abruptly.  “Our prisoners ain’t taking no visitors, ma’am.”

             
“One of them is,” Carrie responded firmly.  “I have a letter from General Winder giving me permission to come in.”

             
The guard’s attitude changed abruptly.  “General Winder?  Let me see that.”

             
Carrie handed him the sheet of paper.  Her father had told her no visitors were allowed with the prisoners, but somehow Letcher had talked the superintendent of the prisons into writing this letter.  It certainly paid to know people in the right places. 

             
“Right this way, ma’am.  You’ll need to meet Lieutenant Todd.”

             
Carrie followed the man to a small office set off to the right of the hallway.  As she entered the office, a tall, stringy man rose to his feet.  Her eyes went at once to the garish tattoos on both arms.  Obviously the man had at one time been a sailor.

             
“What’s this woman doing in my prison?” he snapped.

             
“She has a letter from General Winder saying she can visit one of the prisoners, Lieutenant.”

             
“Let me see that thing!” he snapped again, reaching for the letter.  He scanned it quickly and then looked up with a scowl.  “Which one do you want to see, Miss Cromwell?” he asked, his voice reflecting a little more respect but still heavy with what Carrie could only identify as bitterness and anger.  Immediately, she felt sorry for the prisoners in his care. 

             
“I am here to see Matthew Justin.”

             
“His commission, ma’am?”

             
“I don’t believe he has a commission, Lieutenant Todd.  He is not a soldier.”

             
Todd scowled again.  “Oh, you mean that journalist fellow, don’t you?”

             
“Yes, I believe I do.”  She managed to keep her voice calm and pleasant. 

             
Lieutenant Todd looked at her more closely.  Then he jerked his head toward the guard.  “Go get Justin.  She can visit him in the room down the hall.”  Then he turned back to Carrie.  “I’m afraid I’ll have to take your bag, ma’am.  I can’t have you taking anything in to one of the prisoners.”

             
“That’s not a problem, Lieutenant.”   She handed it over with a smile then stood waiting. 

             
Todd stared at her again before he spoke.  “Do you mind me asking why you are here to visit a Yankee prisoner, Miss Cromwell?  It is obvious your father is important in the government if you were able to get a letter from General Winder.”

             
“Mr. Justin is a family friend.  My father would have come as well if he could have gotten away from his duty.”

             
Todd scowled.  “Don’t you mean he
was
a family friend?  How can you possibly claim someone as a friend who is bent on invading the sacred soil of the South?”

             
Carrie spoke firmly.  “He is a very special friend, no matter what side of this conflict he is fighting on.  May I remind you, Lieutenant, he is not a soldier.  He is a journalist.”

             
Todd stared at her with open suspicion.  “There are people here in Richmond that would take your actions as evidence of sympathy amounting to an endorsement of the cause and conduct of these Northern vandals!” 

             
Carrie wanted to laugh, but she held her tongue.  General Winder’s letter would get her in whenever she wanted, but she didn’t want to cause trouble for Matthew.  She sensed Lieutenant Todd could make life very difficult for those he didn’t like.  She spoke carefully.  “I assume you are a religious man, Lieutenant Todd?”  Her question seemed to have caught him by surprise because he didn’t answer right away.  Just as well.  “Don’t you agree with me that love is the fulfilling of the law of God?” she continued in a pleasant voice.  “You know, Lieutenant, if we want our noble cause to succeed, we must begin with charity to the thankless and the unworthy.  I am merely trying to do my duty toward God.”  She tried to keep her voice soft and gentle.  It would not do for the laughter bubbling just below the surface to boil over.  He would know she was merely pandering to him. 

             
“Well...”  Lieutenant Todd looked at her for a long moment and then opened his mouth to speak. 

             
“The prisoner is in the room now, sir,” the guard announced from the door.

             
Lieutenant Todd snapped his lips shut as if he was glad not to have to answer.  He moved to take his seat behind the desk.  “Take Miss Cromwell to the room.  You have thirty minutes, ma’am.  That’s all.” 

             
Matthew was sitting behind a long wooden table when Carrie entered the room.  His clothes were dirty and rumpled as if he had been wearing them for days, and his long red hair lay limply on his shoulders, but his bright blue eyes still sparkled, and his face lit up with the same boyish grin when he saw her enter the room. 

             
“Carrie Cromwell!” he exclaimed in delight as he jumped up from the table.

             
Carrie glanced up at the guard as he entered the room.  He read the look on her face.

             
“I will be just outside the door, ma’am.  I wouldn’t try anything tricky if I were you,” he warned before he turned and left the room, pulling the heavy door shut behind him. 

             
Only then did Carrie turn to Matthew.  “Matthew Justin!” she said warmly, reaching out with both hands.  Matthew came from around the table, his body as tall and muscular as usual.  She was glad to see he had no injuries. 

             
“Carrie, how did you find me here?” he asked immediately. 

             
“I was on my way back to the plantation yesterday and had to drive by here.  I just happened to get caught up in the parade of people coming to see the prisoners,” she said with a smile.  “When I looked up and saw you peering out one of the windows, I almost fell from my carriage.  I turned around immediately and went back to my father’s house.” 

             
“Your father.  How is he?  I’m sure he is still grieving your mother.”  Matthew paused and then continued.  “I think often of the wonderful Christmas I spent at Cromwell Plantation.  It seems a lifetime ago.  I find it impossible to believe it was only seven months ago.”

             
Carrie nodded.  “I couldn’t agree more,” she said fervently, thinking back to that magical time before their world fell apart.  “My father is doing well.  He sends his greetings and says he will come to visit as soon as he can.  He was shocked to hear you are in prison.”

             
“Your father... Can he…?”

             
Carrie shook her head regretfully.  “I’m afraid there is nothing anyone can do right now.  It seems as if no one was prepared to have prisoners.  It is all so new that no one knows what is going to happen.  My father talked to Governor Letcher on your behalf, but he was unable to offer help either.  I’m sorry, Matthew.”