Storm Clouds Rolling In (67 page)

Early on the morning of the twenty-fourth, the carriage containing Matthew Justin rolled up to the door of Cromwell Plantation. Carrie, Thomas, and Robert were on hand to meet him. Sam took his bags and deposited them in the same room Robert was staying in.

Matthew shook hands warmly with the two men and turned to smile at Carrie.
“I had a feeling you came from a place as grand as this. You belong here!”

Carrie smiled, but wished she could tell him how wrong he was.
This
grand place
was built on a system she had come to hate. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Matthew. Welcome to Cromwell Plantation. And Merry Christmas!” Carrie was determined to make this Christmas as special as she possibly could. No one knew what the next year would bring.

Thomas reached his hand out and laid it on Matthew’s shoulder.
“Of course you know I am anxious for news from South Carolina.”

Matthew nodded.
“I’ll tell you everything I can, but I’m afraid you won’t like it.”

“That I’m sure of,” Thomas replied grimly.
“But I still must know.”

Carrie watched the exchange and stepped forward.
“You will have until dinner to talk politics. Then it will be Christmas! I will not allow dark talk to ruin the holiday.” Her voice was unyielding.

Thomas laughed gently.
“Whatever you say, daughter. You’re in charge now.”

Carrie stared at him.
She could think of nothing at all to say as he turned and led Matthew and Robert up the stairs and into the house. With that one statement he had spoken his heart. They had not talked at all about the plantation until then—no mention of when he would want to come back to the home he and his family before him had carved out of the wilderness. Carrie had harbored a faint hope that being here would reawaken the love in his heart for his home, but now she realized her hope was futile. It was many long minutes before she followed them.

Matthew gazed around him as they walked into the house.
“This is truly a magnificent place, Mr. Cromwell.” He paused. “I must tell you, this is my first time to be invited to a true southern plantation. Cromwell certainly lives up to the reputation they hold.”

Thomas shrugged.
“It’s my home,” he said simply. At one time he would have been delighted with Matthew’s enthusiasm. Now he had more important things on his mind. He led the way to the group of chairs in front of the fireplace, and settled down in the one nearest the flames. He turned to Matthew eagerly. “Tell me about South Carolina,” he urged.

Matthew tore his eyes away from his inspection of the room and took a deep breath.
“It was a unanimous vote, Mr. Cromwell. I don’t believe there was a single man there who had not already made his mind up about secession before he arrived. They had determined that since there was no common bond of sympathy or interest between the North and the South, all effort to preserve a unity would be fruitless.”

“I think I may understand how they feel,” Robert said slowly.
Thomas looked at him sharply. “I didn’t say I agree with it, sir,” Robert protested quickly. “I simply said I think I may understand how they feel.” He seemed to choose his words carefully. “They feel as if there is no other course of action available to them. They believe secession is legal and they see no other way to preserve the only way of life they know. In their minds, they have been backed into a corner.”

Matthew nodded and reached forward to take a sandwich from the tray Sam had delivered to the room.
“I believe you’re right, Robert. I don’t believe they have the right to secede, but neither has enough been done to avoid the inevitability of it. Everyone—including Buchanan who refuses to lead, and Lincoln who refuses to talk about it—has taken a wait and see attitude. The leaders of South Carolina feel they have waited long enough.” He turned back to Thomas. “The convention initially met in Columbia but a smallpox epidemic forced them to move it to Charleston. They were greeted there about the way you would expect,” he said dryly. “There was a fifteen-gun salute and a huge parade.” He frowned. “I did some research while I was there. What I discovered troubled me. There are thirty-three thousand men who have eagerly enlisted in the state’s military organizations. That’s over twice as many men enlisted in
all
of the United States military. They say they are ready to resist any overture by the federal government to oppose their decision.” His voice was deeply troubled.

“The government would be wise not to try any such thing,” Robert said sharply.

Matthew looked at him quickly. “I hate that we find ourselves on different sides of this issue, Robert.”

The glint left Robert’s eyes and his face saddened.
“I still have hopes nothing more will come of this. It’s not too late for the federal government to make the concessions the South needs and demands.”

Matthew shook his head.
“There will be no compromising from Lincoln on slavery. He has made himself perfectly clear on it. He will do nothing to touch the institution as it now stands, but he will not even consider slavery in the new states.”

Robert scowled.
“Then he will carry the blood of a war on his head.”

Thomas, deeply troubled as he watched the two men argue, broke in.
“No
one
man will carry the responsibility for what may come. Please Matthew, tell me more about the convention.”

Matthew nodded and reached into his pocket.
“Just before I left last night, a copy of this was put into my hand, and I thought you would like to hear it. It was drawn up by the convention.” He scanned the pages of paper. “You can read it at your liberty later, sir. Basically, it says that the benefits the Constitution had been drawn up to secure have been defeated by the actions of the free states of the North.” He found the place he was looking for and began to read.

   
Those states have assumed the right of deciding upon the propriety of our domestic institutions; and have denied the rights of property established in fifteen of the states and recognized by the Constitution; they have denounced as sinful the institution of slavery; they have permitted the open establishment among them of societies, whose avowed object is to disturb the peace and to eloign the property of the citizens of other states.

He scanned further and picked back up.

   
A sectional party avowedly hostile to the South is about to take possession of the government. The guarantees of the Constitution will then no longer exist; the equal rights of the states will be lost. The slave-holding states will no longer have the power of self-government, or self-protection, and the federal government will have become their enemy
.

“The
federal government will have become their enemy...” Thomas echoed in a disbelieving voice. “I fear there is no turning back from the course that has been set.”

Matthew nodded soberly,
and handed Thomas another document. “There may be changes to this. I received it last night also. It is a letter to the other Southern states, pleading with them to secede and join in forming a Confederation of Southern States. In it, South Carolina requests only that they be left alone, to work out their own high destiny.”

Thomas shook his head.
“I still believe there has been no act committed that justifies the actions they are taking.”

“Governor Pickens was inaugurated just days before the convention,” Matthew replied.
“I was there for it. He made it clear that the overt action for which secession was supposed to wait has already been committed—by the Northern people at the ballot box.”

“I suppose Charleston went wild when the state seceded,” Robert commented.

Matthew nodded.
“The streets were wild for two days. Fireworks, parades, bands… It seemed as if every person in Charleston was out on the streets laughing, talking, and cheering secession. You would have been hard-pressed to find anyone who was not thrilled.”

Carrie had just walked into the room.
“I’m sure there was
someone
there with enough sense not to be excited,” she said dryly. “Surely not all of them are too blind to see what will come of this.”

Matthew smiled.
“I happened to run into one of them. A frail, old gentleman by the name of Petigru. He is a devout Union man and didn’t care who knew about it. I overheard him talking to a friend. He said, ‘They have this day set a torch to the temple of constitutional liberty, and please God, we shall have no more peace forever.’ Then he turned and stalked away.”

Thomas smiled too, but the flicker on his lips was brief.
All he could do was shake his head slowly as he stared into the flames of the fire.

Carrie had her way.
As soon as supper was called on that Christmas Eve of 1860, all political discussion ceased. Thomas was relieved to have a reason to push their dark thoughts away and focus on the holiday celebration.

Excitement was running high in the
quarters. Sarah had led her little army of children into the woods again and now every cabin was decorated with greenery, pinecones, gourds, and colorful leaves. Rose was rearranging a great collection of greenery on the table when Moses walked in. He stopped short when he saw her, his eyes widening with delight. “I thought you were at the big house with Miss Carrie.”

Rose shook her head.
“She didn’t want us to be apart on Christmas Eve.” Laughter glinted in her eyes. “Are you sorry I’m here?”

Moses chuckled as he moved forward to take her in his arms.
“Let me show you how sorry I am.” He stepped sideways, playfully dumped her on the bed, and lay down next to her. He looked deeply into her eyes and ran a finger gently down the side of her face. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly.

Rose melted as she looked in his eyes.
“I love you, Moses,” she whispered.

Finally, she broke away from his embrace.
“I have some cooking to do for tomorrow,” she said, laughing as he reached to pull her back. “I promised I would bake some sweet potato pies for the big feast tomorrow.”

Moses immediately snatched his hand back.
“Sweet potato pie?”

Rose pretended to be hurt.
“At least now I know what is most important.”

Moses nodded gravely.
“I wouldn’t want you to break your promise.”

“Or miss any pie,” Rose snorted.

“That, too,” he agreed, grinning.

Just then a rap came at the door, and John stuck his head in. “You ‘bout ready for the possum hunt, Moses? It be almost dark.”

Moses nodded.
“I’ll be right there.”

“Sarah is ‘bout to start her storytelling, Rose.”

Rose nodded.
“I’ll be over soon, Daddy. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” She turned to Moses. “Y’all had better bring back some good possums. We’ve got plenty of people to feed tomorrow.”

Suddenly Charles stuck his head in the door.
His eyes were wide and frightened. “We got trouble comin’,” he stated.