Storm Clouds Rolling In (78 page)

Dearest Daughter,

                            I have grand news for you. Our fair capitol of Richmond is being chosen for a high honor. The decision is being made, even as I write this letter, to place the seat of our wonderful Confederacy right here in Richmond.

             
Rose looked at Carrie in surprise. “I thought the Confederate Capitol was in Montgomery, Alabama.”

             
Carrie shrugged. “It was.” She put down the letter and tried to explain what her father had written without having to decipher his handwriting again. “It seems Alexander Stephens, the Vice-President of the Confederacy, arrived in Richmond just a few days after the Convention voted to secede. He was impressed by Richmond’s beauty, but it was much more than that that caused him to make his recommendation for Richmond to become the Capitol. He is well aware of Richmond’s economic wealth and the potential for growth.”

             
Carrie paused as she tried to remember what else her father had said. “Tredegar Iron Works played a big role in his decision. That, along with the other iron companies in Richmond. Stephens said the Confederate government’s war-waging capacity would have suffered a staggering blow if Virginia hadn’t seceded. They’re counting on Richmond for cannons, ammunitions, boats and other things.” She looked out over the river again as she tried to erase the image of Southern cannons pointed toward her friends from the North. “My father said something about Richmond being strategic in a military sense but I’m not sure what he meant. He may write more about it later.”

             
“Do you want the South to win the war?” Rose asked bluntly.

             
Carrie turned to stare into her eyes. “You do manage to cut through to the quick of an issue, don’t you?”

             
Rose merely shrugged and returned Carrie’s look.

             
Carrie swung her gaze back to the river. It matched her emotions now even more than it had a few moments ago – her feelings as tossed and jumbled as the muddy cauldron. Finally, she turned back to Rose. “I don’t know,” she stated flatly. “I think this whole war is stupid. I think people should have had enough sense to keep it from ever happening. But now that it’s here? I just don’t know, Rose.” She smiled slightly. “Does that make me bad?”

             
Rose sat quietly.

             
“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Carrie demanded.

             
Rose shook her head.

             
Carrie managed a brief laugh and then forced herself to look deep into her heart. Rose’s question had made her realize what was really eating at her heart and mind. She was living in a nation at war. Where was her allegiance? Did she have one? Did it make her a traitor to her beloved South if she couldn’t enter the conflict wholeheartedly? How could she support a war that was being fought largely over the continuation of slavery - an institution she despised? But how could she
not
fight to keep her homeland from being destroyed? What about Robert...? The turbulence of her thoughts once again threatened to overwhelm her, just as the river was overwhelming the defeated banks it was now creeping over. “I don’t know. I simply don’t know...” she murmured.

             
Her troubled thoughts demanded an outlet. She shook her head and cried, “Beat you back to the house!” Spinning Granite on his haunches, she launched him into a ground-swallowing gallop. She knew Rose, on the much smaller mare, Maple, wouldn’t stand a chance but she didn’t care. She had to release her spinning thoughts. She leaned low over Granite’s neck and allowed the fresh air to envelope her. Granite pulled at the reins and she gave him what he wanted. The big Thoroughbred flattened himself to the ground as he flew down the road leading back to the Cromwell Plantation house.

             
Carrie moved as one with the horse she had owned since childhood. As they flashed through the afternoon sun, flying in and out of pockets of shade, she slowly felt herself relax. She could almost feel the cobwebs floating out of her mind. She didn’t have to have any answers yet. Her heart was demanding one, but life wasn’t yet demanding one. She knew that for now she was supposed to stay on the plantation, doing what she had been doing since her father had left to go to Richmond. When the time came that she needed to know her heart and mind more clearly, she would know what she was supposed to do. She would simply have to believe that.

             
As the realization of that truth sank through, she gave a glad laugh and pulled Granite down to a slow canter. Only then did she think of Rose. She glanced back but could catch no glimpse of her friend. She pulled Granite down to a walk and turned him around to stare in the direction she had come from. Nothing. Concern replaced the glad smile with deep lines of worry. Had Rose fallen off? Was something wrong? She had taught her friend how to ride several months ago, but Rose still wasn’t entirely confident on a horse. Berating herself for dashing off in a wild run, Carrie urged Granite into a gallop and sped back down the road.

             
She was halfway to the river before she caught sight of Rose trotting Maple calmly down the road. “Are you all right?” she cried. “What happened?”

             
Rose laughed softly. “I’m fine. I didn’t have any inside bombs to diffuse. Maple and I are simply enjoying the afternoon. She agreed with me that it was silly to go racing after a horse we could never catch.”

             
Carrie laughed at the amused expression on Rose’s face and swung Granite alongside to trot with them.

             
“Are you feeling better after your mad run?”

             
Carrie nodded. “It always helps,” she said simply.

             
Rose smiled and fell into a short silence. Then she looked up. “What did your father say about the plantation?”

             
Carrie frowned at her question. “I don’t know how long we can keep up our little game. Father asked about Ike Adams again. He was concerned that Adams would have to leave the plantation as overseer.”

             
“Why?”

             
“It seems Virginia is even more nervous about her slave population now that the war has started. They’re afraid more and more slaves will try to escape and head north to join up with the Union. The Confederacy is already calling for huge numbers of volunteers to join the army. In addition to that, the Virginia government is calling for more men to join the state militia to keep down any slave uprisings and to bring back slaves who are trying to escape. Father asked in his letter whether Adams was talking about joining the militia and leaving the plantation. He said something about the government making overseers exempt from military service.”

             
“So they can keep all the slaves under control,” Rose stated in a hard voice.

             
“There are a lot of people who are afraid the slaves are going to rebel more and more now that the war has started. They’re frightened of losing control.”

             
Rose merely nodded, her contemptuous look speaking her heart. Then she turned back to the subject they had started with. “He’s going to find out sooner or later, Carrie.”

             
Carrie nodded impatiently. “I know. I know.” She couldn’t believe they had pulled off their deception for this long. Her father was working in Richmond, secure in the supposed knowledge that Cromwell Plantation was being managed under the capable hands of his overseer, Ike Adams. He had no idea that Carrie had thrown him off the plantation seven months earlier for attempting to rape Rose. Since that time Carrie had been running the plantation with only the aid of Rose’s husband, Moses, whom she had appointed as the overseer.

             
“I still can’t believe someone hasn’t told him. It seems like everyone locally knows about it,” Rose said.

             
“Father is so caught up in his work he isn’t aware of anything else.” There was no bitterness in Carrie’s voice. She had long ago accepted she was right where she was supposed to be. She hated the deception but believed it was necessary. Yet more and more the necessity of lying to her father was eating at her. Their relationship had always been built on trust. Would he ever forgive her when he discovered the truth - which of course he would someday? How much longer could she live with herself - knowing she was lying to her beloved father? The plantation was still running smoothly. Isn’t that what really counted? She shook her head to push away her disquieting thoughts. Pulling Granite back down to a walk, she reached into her pocket to pull out the letter again. “Let me read you what else he wrote.”

             
Sunday morning, April 21, dawned warm and balmy. The churches of the city were unusually full. The final prayers were just being said by our minister when the bell on the Square began to toll. In an instant all was confusion. Soon the streets were full of shouting that the Yankee gunboat, Pawnee, was steaming up the James to shell the city! Military companies joined together, the artillery was called out, and women and children streamed to the river to watch the battle for the defense of our city.

             
I, of course, had to go rapidly to the Capitol to confer with the Governor. Word reached us shortly that it had been nothing but a false alarm. Indeed, it was almost laughable. There was no boat coming up the river. Even if there had been, her heavy draught would not have permitted passage to the city. Richmond citizens, relieved there was no attack, were able to laugh at their gullibility and resume their Sunday routine.

             
It was not treated so lightly in the Capitol building. We are all relieved that Colonel Robert E. Lee arrives tomorrow to take over the command of Virginia’s troops. The Pawnee Scare
,
as we are all now calling it, simply demonstrated the chaotic unpreparedness of Richmond’s defenses. It may have been a good joke on the city, but it also revealed a very uncomical state of unreadiness. We have much work to do to be ready to defend our city from the attacks that will surely come from the North.

             
“When does he think the North will attack?” Rose asked.

             
Carrie shrugged, folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket. “I don’t know. He ends the letter there with an apology that he can’t write more because of time.” Something in Rose’s voice had caught her attention. She turned to look at her friend. “Who do
you
want to win the war, Rose?” She had been so busy thinking of her own answer to that question that she hadn’t bothered to think how Rose would answer it.

             
Rose met her eyes squarely. “The South is fighting to preserve its right to slavery, Carrie. I know there are many other issues at stake, but wouldn’t you agree that is a major one?”

             
Carrie nodded, knowing where Rose was headed.

             
Rose smiled slightly. “Surely you don’t think I would support a war that would leave my people even one second longer in bondage and misery. I have no idea what the outcome of all this will be, but I can only pray for freedom for my people. Freedom to learn without having to hide in the woods in a secret school. Freedom to live their lives the way they desire. Freedom to marry and never worry they will be sold away from each other. Freedom to know their children will not disappear one day - sold to the highest bidder.” Rose paused. “I’m not sure what will happen to the slavery system if the North wins. Maybe nothing. But I
am
sure what will happen if the South wins.”

             
Carrie nodded. “I understand.” She knew most of her friends and family were ardently opposed to the beliefs she now held, but she was comfortable with what she believed. There would be times when her position would cause her heartache but she knew she had to be true to herself.

             
The look Rose directed her way was a mixture of appreciation and compassion. Carrie knew what she was thinking.
Robert...
They had not talked about him since Carrie had returned from Richmond a month ago. Rose didn’t know about... Carrie shook her head firmly and reined her thoughts back in. Now was not the time.

             
“Tell me how your school is going.” Rose would know what game she was playing.

             
Rose played the game well, launching easily into a newer, safer subject. “The school is going wonderfully! Every child on this plantation can now read a little and write their name. There are some who struggle to do that. Others are going almost faster than I can keep up with.” Rose paused, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Oh, Carrie, there is nothing more exciting than seeing a child struggle to read and suddenly get it. It’s just like a light goes off in their head. I can see it because it lights up their eyes! Suddenly all those shapes make sense and a whole new world is open to them!”

             
Carrie smiled as she watched her friend’s face. “Someday you’ll have your own school, Rose. You’ll be free. Then you can be the teacher you’ve always dreamed of being.”