Spring Will Come (16 page)

Rose was in no hurry as she sauntered down the street.    She was tired from a long day at school, but it was a good tired.  A tired that said she had learned much and been challenged to stretch herself intellectually.  It was the kind of tired she had longed for after long days of work in the plantation house when she was so tired she could barely hold her eyes open to sneak in a few minutes of reading before she had succumbed to the exhaustion claiming her body.  Taking in deep breaths of the cooling air, she allowed herself to relax.  Suddenly her eyes opened wide. 

              “Matthew Justin!”  She was delighted to see the tall man striding toward her. 

             
“Hello, Rose,” Matthew said with a wide smile.  “Heading home?”  When she nodded, he asked, “Mind if I walk home with you?”

             
“That would be wonderful.  Aunt Abby will be thrilled to see you.  You’re early, aren’t you?”

             
Matthew shrugged.  “I couldn’t face going to the office today.  I found I much preferred the idea of being in the company of two lovely ladies.”

             
Rose smiled and then searched his face.  “Did you by any chance...?”

             
Matthews shook his head.  “No.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t see Moses while I was there.  But that doesn’t mean anything bad has happened.  There are over one hundred thousand men serving in the army of the Potomac under McClellan.  He could have been any number of places.”

             
“I know - I was just hoping...”  Rose fought to control her disappointment.  The last letter she had received from Moses was over three weeks ago.  She knew mail did not always move easily from the camps, but she was achingly aware she had not heard from him at all since the first battles to take Richmond.  Was he dead?  Had he been injured?  Had his cover as a spy been discovered by Southerners only too willing to kill him?

             
“How is school going?”

             
Rose knew Matthew was trying to take her mind off of Moses.  She struggled to pull her thoughts back.  “Fine.  School is going fine.”  She forced a smile.  “Another teacher from the contraband camp at Fort Monroe came to talk to us today.”

             
“I was there,” Matthew replied.

             
Rose spun to face him.  “You were at Fort Monroe?  What’s it like?  How many blacks are there?  What are the conditions?  What...”

             
“Hold on there,” Matthew laughed.  “I can only answer one question at a time.”  He paused.  “Fort Monroe is a military base.  But General Butler has taken in hundreds of fugitive slaves.  My best guess is that there are close to a thousand - counting women and children.”

             
“That’s what the man said who came today,” Rose mused.

             
“The men are doing work for the army.  So are the women.  They do cleaning, laundry, and cooking.  The children are going to school.”

             
“What do they live in?”

Matthew frowned.  “Different things I guess.  There is a place they call Slab Town.  The huts are made out of the rough outside of logs that have already been sawed into planks.  There are houses being built in the burnt
-out remains of Hampton.  Some are living in big buildings built by the army.”  He paused again.  “I wasn’t really there long enough to pass much of a judgment.”

             
Rose was watching him closely.  “But you don’t feel good about it.” 

             
“I don’t really know
how
I feel about it,” Matthew said with a frown.  “They are certainly not living in conditions I would care to live in, but it might be a whole lot better than slavery.  I guess what made me uncomfortable was the man who had been put in charge of the ex-slaves.  I was asked by my paper to do an interview with him.  A fellow by the name of Tallmadge.  From all I can tell, he is uncaring and dishonest.”

             
“I heard about him.”

             
“How in the world did
you
hear about him?”  Matthew asked, astonished.

             
Rose smiled.  “From the man who came to talk to us today.  His name is Mr. Lockwood.  He’s been down at Fort Monroe as a representative of the American Missionary Association.  He determined the same thing about Tallmadge.  He returned to the North to talk with officials, to try to have something done about it.  And to find more teachers,” she added, trying to speak casually.

             
Now it was Matthew’s turn to watch her closely.  “Have you changed your mind about going?  I know you want to stay in school as long as possible so you’re prepared to help your people the best you can.”

             
“I don’t know, Matthew,” Rose said slowly.  “I’m confused right now.”  She paused, suddenly glad to have him there to talk to.  “Have you ever heard of a woman named Mary Peake?”

             
Matthew thought for a moment.  “I heard her name while I was down at Fort Monroe.  Is she one of the teachers?”

             
“She
was
one of the teachers.   In fact, she was the very first teacher in the camps.  She’s dead now.  She had been ill with tuberculosis for quite some time.  In spite of her bad health, she continued to teach.  She died a few months ago.  More teachers have gone down, but there aren’t enough to meet the need.”

             
“Matthew Justin.  You’re home!” 

             
Rose looked up, startled.  She hadn’t realized they were almost to the house.                               Aunt Abby, with a wide smile, stepped from the porch and began to walk to meet them. 

             
Matthew strode ahead and wrapped her in a big hug.  “Aunt Abby.  It’s wonderful to see you,” he said warmly.

             
Rose watched as the woman who had become like a mother to her smiled up into Matthew’s face.  Aunt Abby’s huge heart had won her over the minute she laid eyes on her.  The love had grown daily.  

             
Abigail Stratton had taken over her husband’s business when he died unexpectedly - still a young man.  Her struggle to make her way in a man’s world had both strengthened her and deepened her compassion.  She carried herself with confidence, not seeming to mind she stood taller than most the men around her.  Soft brown hair, now sporting streaks of iron, framed a pair of startling bright gray eyes.  Her voice, low and melodious, invited Rose into her world, her caring and warmth soon making her feel totally at home with her.  Aunt Abby had welcomed Rose and Moses into her home - had made them part of her family.  Rose loved her fiercely.   Thinking about it only made what she was contemplating even more difficult.

             
Rose followed Matthew and Aunt Abby into the house. 

             
“Dinner won’t be ready for an hour or so,” Aunt Abby apologized. 

             
“I’m early,” Matthew responded.  “I found your home has a much stronger pull than the office.  I hope you don’t mind.”

             
“Nonsense.  I’m delighted you’re here.  You can relax while I finish dinner.”

             
Rose headed for the stairs.  “I’ll change and be down to help.”  As she climbed the steps, she pondered the haunted look in Matthew’s eyes. 

It wasn’t until they were finishing dessert of fresh strawberries that talk turned to serious subjects. 

              Aunt Abby turned to Matthew.  “Tell me about Richmond.  I’m so worried about Carrie, Robert, and her father.  I’ve read about the fighting, but I know I can trust you to tell me the whole story.  I suppose there are benefits to having a war correspondent as part of my family.”

             
Rose pushed aside her plate and leaned forward to listen.  The dishes could be taken care of later. 

             
Matthew leaned back in his chair.  “From all I could tell, the battles at Seven Pines were a pointless killing of thousands of men.  After two days, the lines were the exact same as before it started.  Except that they were minus over six thousand men on both sides.”

             
“So the papers didn’t exaggerate the numbers.”

             
“Not this time,” Matthew said grimly.  “They published it the way I sent it to them.  I was hard put to decide who I felt worse for.  I’m just as concerned as you about Carrie, Robert, and Mr. Cromwell.  It must be horrible for the people in Richmond to wonder every minute if their city is about to fall.  But they had a major advantage.  Their wounded soldiers were only a few miles at the most from hospitals equipped to care for them.”  He paused for a long moment.  “It broke my heart to see thousands of young men lying in the dirt, on straw or makeshift mattresses, and waiting for spaces in tents or buildings to open up.”  He shook his head. 

             
Aunt Abby reached out and put her hand on his.  “It must have been horrible.”

             
Matthew sighed heavily.  “It was like nothing I have ever seen.  I wish to God I never have to see it again, yet I know this is just the beginning.”  He shook his head again and seemed to forget Aunt Abby and Rose were there as he stared off into the distance.  “I was at the supply depot at White House when troops started to bring the casualties in.  Several hundred at a time came on boxcars.  They were packed tightly in the cars, dead and alive together - many with no initial treatment of their wounds - but all hungry and exhausted.”

             
His voice faltered.  Aunt Abby squeezed his hand but he seemed not to notice. “So many of them had such awful wounds...  they were alive with maggots.  And the smell - the stench was enough to make me vomit.  All the hospitals were full.  Some of the fallen were carried aboard boats.  Others lay by the tracks in the rain for hours until room could be made for them. Piles of amputated limbs were everywhere.  Dead bodies were stacked on platforms...”  His voice dropped to a whisper.  “It was like being in the midst of a long nightmare that would never end.  It seemed like the flow of wounded would never cease...  So much waste…”  He shook his head heavily.  “So much waste,” he mumbled.

             
Rose made no attempt to stop the tears streaming down her face.  She knew there were memories she could never erase from her mind – she suspected they would rise to taunt her all her life. 

             
“I’m so sorry, Matthew,” Aunt Abby said tenderly.

             
“What?”  Matthew straightened suddenly, his eyes opening wide as if he were just remembering they were with him.  “I’m sorry.  Please forgive me.  You shouldn’t have to hear such things.”

             
“Nonsense!”  Aunt Abby exclaimed, blinking back her tears.  “Trying to cover the truth doesn’t hide the reality of what is.  I only wish everyone could go down to see what you were forced to.  Maybe everyone would work harder to find a way to end this crazy war.”

             
Matthew looked at her for a moment and then stared off again, seeming to once more forget the two women were there.

             
Rose and Aunt Abby exchanged anxious looks.  Rose felt her heart squeeze with pity for the man who had been such a good friend to her.  If it hadn’t been for Matthew, Ike Adams would have taken her back to slavery after he had had his way with her.

             
Matthew started talking again.  “When General Lee pulled his troops back, our soldiers moved back to where they had been.  But first they had to bury the thousands of dead scattered everywhere.  Makeshift graves were dug for both Rebels and Yankees...  the smell of burning horses almost choked us.”  He paused for another long moment.  “The dead they buried - they didn’t do a very good job.  I went there later - the smell was horrible.  Rain had washed away the dirt over the graves...”  His voice faltered as his eyes filled with tears.  “There were legs and hands sticking out - heads pushing through the ground...”  He stopped, bowing his head as if the pain were more than he could bear.  “So much death - so senseless,” he finally murmured in a broken voice.