Storm Clouds Rolling In (16 page)

Carrie watched with pride as he strode confidently to the center of the room.

“You have broken a long-held Blackwell tradition today,” Colonel Benton proclaimed solemnly, his eyes twinkling. “I’d say it was about time Nathan Blackwell was dethroned!”

Nathan joined in the good-natured laughter filling the room.
“You got me this time, Borden. It won’t be so easy next time!”

Robert smiled at his new friend.
Then he turned back to Colonel Benton just as the older man handed him a beautiful crown formed of wisteria and dogwood intricately woven together. The room grew completely silent as he accepted the crown. Raising his arms high, he held the crown aloft for the whole room to see.

Carrie, watching from her post next to the door
, felt a thrill course through her body. Robert had ridden so magnificently today. He deserved to be the conquering knight. Her gaze swung to Louisa. Of course she would be crowned the queen. She had given Robert the first token and she expected to reign with him tonight.

Robert allowed his gaze to scan the entire room as he let the suspense build.
“I am honored to be the conquering knight of the Blackwell Tournament. The competition was stiff. Admiration runs deep for my worthy opponents.” He paused. “The honor of choosing the Queen of Love and Beauty is not one to be taken lightly. It is, at best, a very difficult decision. So many beautiful young ladies, all worthy of the honor. Most of you do not know that I did not attend with the intention of riding in the tournament. Because of extended travel plans, I was not able to bring my horse. Carrie Cromwell was kind enough to remedy that situation for me. It was her horse Granite that carried me to victory today.”

Carrie was watching Louisa.
She saw her face stiffen and take on an expression of disbelief. Confused, Carrie turned her attention to Robert.

Robert continued.
“In honor of Miss Cromwell’s supreme unselfishness and in honor of a magnificent Thoroughbred with a great heart, I crown Miss Carrie Cromwell the Queen of Love and Beauty.” Robert moved toward the entranceway as he spoke these last words.

Carrie heard his words and saw him moving in her direction, but she couldn’t believe her own eyes and ears.
Surely he knew what an insult this would be to Louisa! She felt her cheeks flushing as Robert came to a stop in front of her. She settled her eyes on the proffered crown and fought to think clearly. When she glanced up, Robert’s dark brown eyes probed her own. The message was unmistakable.
Trust me. This is what I want.
Carrie’s heart jumped in response and she allowed her own indomitable spirit to rise to meet Robert’s.

Carrie smiled as she curtsied deeply to her knight.
Robert carefully placed the crown on her glimmering hair and reached for her hand. All around, she could hear the murmurs of approval. The sound of her friends’ and neighbors’ voices added to her joy. No one seemed angry that Robert had not chosen the beautiful daughter of their host. She would most definitely have to deal with Louisa later, but tonight—tonight was hers. She would make the most of it. She knew she and Robert would perform the first dance alone before the ladies-in-waiting were selected. Tucking her hand in Robert’s arm, she allowed him to lead her to the middle of the dance floor. Only then did the music start. Turning to face him, she smiled joyously. “Thank you.”

Robert’s response was immediate.
“Thank
you
, Miss Cromwell. You honor me by being my queen tonight. There has never been one lovelier.”

The intensity of his eyes and voice caused Carrie to blush and look down.
The next thing she knew, Robert had swung her into an elegant waltz. She quit thinking then. She would enjoy the night, the music, and the dancing. Music swirled around them, joining with the glowing lights and gentle breezes. It was a perfect night.

After leading his beautiful wife through several dances, and a rousing Virginia
reel, Thomas Cromwell was ready for a drink.

“I hear that Borden lad has an interest in politics.”

Thomas stifled a groan. Any conversation with Edmund Ruffin lately meant conflict. He supposed there was no avoiding it. “That’s right. A fine lad he is.”

“I hope he has more gumption than the rest of our so-called Virginia politicians.
Our whole state seems to be full of gentlemen eager to bow in acquiescence to the almighty North.”

Thomas was aware Ruffin’s words linked him to this group.
He considered walking off to find Abigail but caught sight of her in the midst of a gaggle of women and tossed that option aside. Just then, Alfred Blackwell and Colonel Benton strode up to join them. Stifling a sigh, he remained where he was. To walk away now would appear rude to his host.

Ruffin continued.
“It grieves me deeply that fellow Virginians would be willing to sacrifice our southern civilization. It confounds me that once levelheaded men cannot see the danger of allowing things to continue as they are.” He was obviously aware he was now speaking to a larger audience. “It will take brave men to turn the tide of current events. The North would come down and destroy all that we hold dear. The abolitionists continue to fire up sentiment against our way of life. Secession is the only answer. Only when we are free as a nation to determine our own destiny, apart from the heavy-handed meddling from the North, will this struggle be over.”

Thomas sighed.
He had heard it all before. Long before the cry of secession had become an accepted voice in the South, he had been hearing this type of rhetoric from his fire-eating neighbor. The voices were louder now, and there were more of them. Daily his heart grew heavier as he imagined the outcome if his hot-tempered neighbor and those of his kind were allowed to lead the way.

“I used to think you were a kind of mad
man, Ruffin. Recent events have made me do a lot of thinking.” Colonel Benton stuffed a plug of chewing tobacco in his jaw and began to work it thoughtfully. His usually jovial voice was heavy. “I used to think all that abolitionist talk was just a bunch of nonsense from people who had nothing better to do with their time than harass a way of life they didn’t understand. John Brown made me think differently. Those abolitionists are crazy people who will kill and destroy to get their way. I’ve always been a Union man myself. I’ve always been proud to be an American. Now, I’m not so sure. If being an American means the North is going to control how I live and try to turn the South into another Africa by setting all the niggers free, well then—”

Thomas broke into the
colonel’s speech. “Now, Colonel, I think you may be overstating your case.” Ruffin snorted as if to interrupt him, but Thomas forged ahead. “There are those in the South who would have us believe the only way to save our way of life is to secede from the Union. I believe the very opposite. I believe the only way to save our way of life is to
stay
in the Union. Our very strength lies in our unity. Secession will mean war. War has never brought anything but destruction and death. We need what the North has to offer, just as they need what we have to offer.” His voice grew firmer as he cast aside any hope of averting conflict. “I’m afraid fire-eaters like Ruffin here may be leading the South into a time of great tragedy and heartache.” Thomas believed his words with all his heart, but he well knew the lessening impact they were having. Strident voices everywhere were fighting to be heard and just as it so often happened in the past, the voices that shouted the loudest were the ones heard best. The voices that fed on fear and prejudices drowned out all else.

Ruffin again snorted his disdain.
“We need nothing from the North. They are nothing but tyrants who want to control us. The only answer is secession. The idea that it would mean war is ludicrous. The North would never come down here to fight us. It would be pure folly.” Rubbing his hands together, he warmed to his subject. “Our South is by far the superior civilization. No one can challenge the nobleness of our cause or question our outstanding character. It is true that the soil of the South has produced a better man. Why look at it! Slavery. The plantations. Our men have been bred and trained for command and leadership. Though it will never happen, I would welcome the contest between a lean, hard Southern man fighting for liberty, family, and property, and a soft, flabby Yankee mechanic waging an unconstitutional, utopian war of aggression and tyranny!” Waving his hands wildly, Ruffin had now attracted the attention of those around him.

Thomas listened to his neighbor with a sinking heart.
He disagreed with all his heart, but he knew many of his friends and those listening agreed with Ruffin. He wished he could get them to see what folly this talk of secession was. Get them to think clearly with their heads instead of following the passion of their hearts.

Ruffin, aware he was drawing a crowd, continued with his tirade.
“In just eight more days the die may be cast.”

Just then
, Carrie and Robert dropped out of the dancing to get refreshments. Robert turned to Ruffin. “Eight days, sir? Are you referring to the Democratic Convention in Charleston?”

“I am indeed.”

Robert nodded. “I leave for there tomorrow.”

Ruffin turned to eye Robert with renewed interest.
“And what do you hope to see accomplished there, young man?”

“In truth, sir, I don’t know.
Northern Democrats seem assured of Douglas’s nomination. I am not so sure. There are many Southerners unhappy with the compromising senator.”

“And well they should be
,” Ruffin said caustically.

Robert continued.
“I’m afraid, though, that a split at the convention will mean disaster for the Democratic Party. It could mean a victory for the Republican Party and I’m afraid of what that would mean for the South.”

Thomas watched Robert carefully.
The young man was genuinely expressing his views. Thomas knew what was coming next.

Ruffin pounced.
“That would be the very best thing for our beloved South.”

“Excuse me, sir?”
Robert was obviously confused.

Thomas had correctly guessed that Robert had little exposure to rabid fire-eaters.
His political experience had been among the more moderates of the party. Most of the fire-eaters resided in the cotton states farther south. Virginians, for the most part, did not share those intense feelings.

Ruffin continued to enlighten him.
“Yes, young man, it would be the very best thing that could happen. Maybe then the South would cease all this kowtowing to the North. If the Democratic Party is divided in such a way as to ensure a
Black Republican
victory next year in the presidential election, maybe all Southern men will have the courage to unite under the banner of the South, disentangled from Northern alliances. Perhaps then the South will act for its defense and only salvation.” Ruffin’s face grew redder and his arms waved wildly as he became more passionate. “If not, submission to Northern oppression and aggression will be the set course of the South. Our fate will be sealed.” His booming voice ground to a halt as he leaned in close to Robert.

Thomas watched Robert’s face fill with doubt.
He knew Ruffin had no qualms against using Robert to make a point to his audience as a whole. He would not feel one misgiving that he was bringing such discord to a social function meant for laughter and fun.

Ruffin wasn’t done.
“Robert Borden. You own a plantation up in Goochland?”

Robert nodded.
“Yes, sir. With my brother and mother. My father is deceased.”

“Own slaves?”

“Yes, sir. Close to seventy-five.”

“How do you feel about someone coming down and setting all your slaves free?”
He didn’t give him time to answer. “How do you feel about all your former slaves living around here, having the same say as you about what goes on?” He pushed on. “How do you feel about the South turning into a little Africa if there were no white men to control things?” He seemed not to care if Robert answered or not. He was making a point. “How would you like to lose your means of make a living for your family? How would you like it if life as you know it were about to end?”

Alfred Blackwell stepped in to end the show before Robert could answer.
“That’s enough, friends. It’s time for our real refreshment.” His words were enough to break the spell Ruffin had cast over the crowd. Breaking off, small groups drifted into the main dining room.