by Ginny Dye
“We hit the wrong place,” he said quietly, his fear now replaced with savage disappointment. “The hole came out in an empty lot all right, but it’s the one adjacent to the prison. I was almost seen by a guard standing not six feet from where I poked my head up.” The sweat started to bead on his forehead as he considered how close he had been.
Anderson listened grimly. “I must have miscalculated.”
“You might want to go back to the drawing board,” Peter suggested dryly, drawing a weak smile from all of them.
“I have an idea,” Matthew said suddenly. All eyes turned toward him. “It’s pretty hard to figure out where we are when we’re tunneling underground. I’ve got to go back in and cover up that hole.”
“How are you going to do that?” Pete asked.
“I’m going to take my shirt back, cover it with dirt and stick it up through the hole. It won’t be perfect, but unless someone is really looking for it, they won’t see it.”
“Unless they walk on it,” Anderson said dryly.
Matthew didn’t bother to respond to the obvious. His mind was racing too fast. “When I go back, I’ll take one of my shoes off and shove it out of the hole.” He glanced at Anderson. “You can look out the window, find the shoe, and refigure your calculations from there.” He stopped and looked at Anderson expectantly.
Anderson grinned. “I declare. You really are smarter than you look.” He nodded enthusiastically. “I think it will work.”
“Except when you have to walk out of here to escape. You may wish you had that shoe,” Peter observed sourly, his expression saying he agreed with the plan.
“If I’m lucky, I’ll just pick it up on my way out,” Matthew grinned, his hope once more restored now that another plan was in place. “Men, we’ll be out of here in less than a week!”
Matthew’s prophecy was correct. One week later he backed out of the tunnel and motioned for Anderson to go in. He kept his eyes on the tunnel, not looking up at the men who he knew were staring at him expectantly. He didn’t want them to see the smile flickering on his lips. The original plan had been Anderson’s. He should be the one who announced their success.
Five minutes later, Anderson backed out of the tunnel into the dim, yellow light from the three candles burning in the dank cellar. He looked up, a wide grin exploding on his face.
Silent joy erupted in Rat Dungeon. The four men watching shook hands and hugged each other exuberantly. Moments later they were all clustered in the kitchen.
“What’s it like out there?” Peter asked excitedly.
“Freedom never smelled so good,” Anderson said joyfully. Then he took a deep breath. “This is just the first step,” he reminded them. He went over, once again step-by-step, the plan he and Matthew had devised for when they were out of the tunnel. The men listened closely, nodding that they understood.
“Each man here will tell those of the original group,” Matthew said firmly. “No one else is to know.”
“Seems a shame for all that work to be used only by fifteen men,” Peter said thoughtfully.”
Matthew looked at Anderson, who nodded. “It’s not just for us,” he confessed. “We decided last week to bring Lieutenant Sadler in on the plans - on the condition he keep the hole a secret for exactly one hour after we make our escape. Then he can broadcast it. After that it’s up to each man.”
Anderson stood, indicating a close to the meeting. “Everyone, go to bed,” he ordered. “We need to be well rested before we break out. We’ve done the hardest part, but what lies ahead of us isn’t easy.”
Matthew looked down at the hole leading to Rat Dungeon. “I think I’m going to stay up here tonight. I’ve become very appreciative of sleeping on hard wood floors while I’m shivering.” All the men laughed as he led the way to their floor.
Matthew stared up into the darkness, unable to sleep now that freedom was so near. He prayed silently, knowing a hundred things could still go wrong. Someone could find either of the two holes they had broken through to the lots with. One of the men, in their excitement, could let something slip. A huge rainstorm could cause the ground to cave in around the holes they had dug. “God brought us this far,” he finally muttered, rolling over and forcing his eyes closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Carrie leaned back in the carriage seat, took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, and smiled happily at Robert. “I can hardly believe we’re going to a party.”
“A starvation party. No food, but there will be plenty of music and dancing,” Robert promised. “Thank you for coming with me.”
Carrie smiled up at him again and snuggled close under the lap blanket and watched Spencer’s broad shoulders silhouetted against the starry sky. She knew what Robert was saying - that he understood how she felt about parties during such hard times as these. Carrie still wasn’t sure how people could be in the mood for laughing and gaiety when the whole world was exploding around them, but the shivers of excitement running down her spine were beginning to give her a glimmer of understanding. In difficult times, perhaps especially in difficult times, folks did whatever they could to infuse light into darkness, to bring laughter into despair. Scores of people during the brutal winter of 1864 were dancing and partying in gay defiance of the dark cloud covering, threatening to suffocate, the capital city.
Carrie reached for Robert’s hand under the blanket, squeezed it gently, then lay back, and gazed up at the shimmering sky. After so many gray cloudy days and nights, a brisk breeze had blown in from the north that morning, scattering the thick clouds as if they had been nothing more than dandelion fuzz. Now the sky was brilliant with a million stars, twinkling and winking as they blazed across the heavens. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, staring up in awe.
“Yes, it is,” Robert agreed.
Carrie turned to look at her husband and suddenly threw her head back, letting loose a loud whoop of happiness. Then she giggled. “Don’t bother to tell me how unladylike that was. I simply won’t care if you do. I’ll merely think you’re stuffy.”
“I would never do such a thing.” Robert’s eyes danced with laughter. “I learned a long time ago exactly how impulsive my beautiful wife is.”
Carrie turned serious. “It’s just that I know how very fortunate I am. I’ve almost lost you in battle. You almost drowned in the ocean. And somehow you managed to escape Lee’s order a few weeks ago for all able men to be taken to the front.” She shuddered. “I can still see some of my weak soldiers climbing out of bed because they were deemed strong enough to fight,” she said angrily.
“I’m just glad President Davis still thinks I’m valuable enough to him to be able to stay in Richmond. I have no illusions that I won’t be called back to the front eventually, but I’m determined to enjoy all the time we have together now.”
“Exactly,” Carrie replied. “I think of how many women have lost their husbands, their sons, their fathers. And I still have both of the men in my life,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes. She turned and took both of Robert’s hands in hers. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
“A few times,” Robert gazed at her lovingly. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
The carriage rolled rapidly down the dark streets of the city. The cold weather seemed to have driven most of the residents inside to huddle around whatever inadequate source of heat they had. Most of the gaslights along the street remained dark because of scarcity of fuel, but Carrie saw nothing forbidding in the shadows tonight. Nothing could touch her as long as she was with Robert.
Piles of snow were still in mounds on the sidewalks and along the edges of the street. Tree limbs, brittle in the cold weather, clapped and clacked against each other in a wild celebration of winter. An occasional dog, thin from lack of food, skulked across the roads, nosing into trashcans in the hope of finding a morsel of food human scavengers had overlooked. The few people they encountered had their heads tucked deeply into their coats, not bothering t
o look up when the carriage rolled by.
As they drew nearer to the heart of town, activity picked up a little. More houses had dim lights glimmering from their windows. The sidewalks and streets were shoveled clear from snow. As they turned onto Franklin Street, Carrie drew in her breath with excitement. Bright lights shone onto the porch of the large three-story house they stopped in front of. She knew the light of day would reveal the peeling paint and drooping fences, but for this one night the old mansion - its yard covered with snow, its old lines softened by the inky sky - reveled in all its former glory.
“I haven’t been to a party since you proposed to me,” she whispered.
“May this be a night you’ll never forget,” Robert said, holding out his hand with a smile. “I’m proud to be escorting the most beautiful woman here.”
Carrie laughed. “At least I will be unique.” Short of her wedding gown, which she would not consider wearing, Carrie had found nothing in her meager wardrobe that would be appropriate for any kind of party. Her faded blue dresses, worn and stained from her hours in the hospital, would never have done. She had long ago given away every other piece of clothing for bandages. The kind old lady next door had heard of her dilemma and come to her rescue, lending her one of the few dresses she had saved back.
“I think you look like a doll,” Robert insisted.
“An antique doll,” Carrie commented wryly. The dress was beautiful, but it was from another time. It was a good thing she didn’t care much for fashion she had decided as she held it up and smiled her gratitude to the old woman. Its puckered sleeves and high, tight neckline were softened somewhat by the yards of creamy lace sewn onto rose silk.
“Do you really care so much?” Robert asked in sudden concern. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Carrie’s laugh rang out through the cold, still air like a tinkling bell and causing several of the guests climbing the stairs to turn to look. “Care so much?” she scoffed merrily. “Why, I don’t care at all! There is a war going on, for heaven’s sake. I hardly think anyone will be concerned with my apparel. If they are, I find I already feel rather sorry for them,” she said haughtily, her eyes dancing with fun.
Robert drew her close in a warm hug then set her back. “May I have the next dance, Mrs. Borden?” he asked solemnly.
Carrie shivered with delight, completely forgetting the cold as she envisioned the magic that always swept her away when she danced with Robert. She placed her hand in his eagerly. “Lead the way, Mr. Borden.”
Once they had greeted their hosts, Robert led Carrie into the large, brightly lit room. In the typical tradition of Richmond war-time parties, there was neither a single drop of drink nor a morsel of food anywhere in sight. No one seemed to mind. The room, warmed by a blazing fire and a throng of bodies, buzzed with conversation and music. Carrie relaxed as she looked around at the other women. She really hadn’t cared much what she was wearing, but it helped to see other women in their everyday dresses, minus the jewelry - already dedicated to the Confederate cause - that had glittered brightly during pre-war parties.
Robert swept her onto the dance floor as soon as the next song started. Carrie began to protest that she had not greeted a single soul but clamped her lips shut. Those people would still be there when she was done dancing with her husband. Beaming up into his face, Carrie raised her arms.
The old magic consumed her just as it always had. The room, the people, the brutal winter, the raging war, all fell away, disappearing into a misty shadowy land as Robert whirled her across the floor. For this moment - this time- it was just them. Just their love binding them close and spinning them in a dance of joy.
Matthew had sat at the window all day, letting the brisk wind bathe his face as he watched the clouds chase across the sky, then finally retreat before the bright blue that had surrounded the setting sun be gently kissed by its golden glow. Now the sky was brilliantly clear, alive with millions of stars. It was a perfect night! His body tingled with excitement. Three more hours, and they would all meet in the kitchen as planned. Matthew stared down at his shoeless feet, flexing his freezing toes, speculating on the fact that his anticipation was making him hardly feel them. His other shoe was stuffed inside his blanket. No shoes were easier to explain than one shoe. When a guard had questioned him, he had merely shrugged and said, “Lost them in a bet.” The guard had smirked knowingly and walked away.
Anderson eased over to join him. “There’s not a single guard on our floor,” he said quietly. “They cleared out early tonight.”
“The scare of another escape is wearing off,” Matthew replied. Then he grinned. “Boy, are they in for a surprise in the morning.”
“You got that right,” Anderson chuckled, slapping him on the shoulder. “See you in a little while.”
Matthew watched him walk away then turned back to his inspection of the outside. His shoe was still lying where he had left it. He could barely make it out and only then because he knew where he was looking. No one had seemed to notice the worn-out piece of leather. Then, in spite of his best efforts, his eyes lifted in the direction of Church Hill. He wondered whether Carrie was still there, still safe in her warm house. His heart reached out to her even as he forced his eyes to turn away. The few blocks separating them might as well have been a thousand miles. It was best that way.
Carrie finally pulled away from Robert, laughing breathlessly as they finished up a rousing Virginia reel. “They do have water, don’t they? I’m about to perish from thirst.”
“Only the finest water for my lovely wife,” Robert said, bowing gallantly. “I’ll be right back.”
Carrie looked around the room while she waited. She was surprised to find she didn’t know most of the other women in the room. She had been fairly familiar with Richmond society before the war and even during the first year of it. The faces seemed to have all changed.
“Trying to find someone you know?” A teasing voice broke into her thoughts.
“Natalie!” Carrie gasped, spinning around and grabbing her old friend in a warm hug. “I had no idea you were still in the city.”
“Kind of easy to lose people with the thousands pouring in,” Natalie said wryly. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out why people come here. Those of us who were born here can claim a reason to stay through starvation and suffering. It’s the ones who come looking for it that leave me mystified.”
Carrie laughed. “You haven’t changed.”
Natalie’s blue eyes turned serious beneath her blond curls. “Oh, I’ve changed,” she admitted. “I’m no longer the innocent little girl you traveled to Philadelphia with to visit my Aunt Abby.”
Carrie’s eyes misted over. “I miss her so much.”
“You two formed a special bond,” Natalie agreed.
“Have you...?”
“Heard from her?” Natalie finished. “Getting mail from the North is about as difficult as getting a real cup of coffee in this city.” She snorted. “Impossible.”
Carrie laughed again. She had always enjoyed Natalie’s easy humor. She had assumed her friend had long ago left the city. Her family had a wonderful place in North Carolina. “Why are you still here?” she asked suddenly.
“I told you I’d changed,” Natalie replied. “You thought I would be in North Carolina, didn’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I could be. My family left when McClellan threatened the city.” She stopped, staring out over the dancers. “My place is here. My husband is fighting with General Lee.”
“You’re married?” Carrie cried. “I didn’t know.”
“Right after the war started.” A tender smile played on Natalie’s lips. “I met Theodore at one of the parties. It was love at first sight.” She laughed. “And I don’t even believe in love at first sight!”
“You’ve stayed in the city to be closer to him,” Carrie guessed.
Natalie nodded. “I’ve only seen him twice in the last two years, once when they were marching through
town. It was only for thirty minutes, but it was enough to keep my heart hoping.” She looked sad for a moment, then brightened. “In the meantime, I do everything I can. I’ve nursed sick soldiers in my home, made so many bandages I can do it in my dreams, and held benefits to raise money for our glorious cause!”
Carrie decided not to comment on the glorious cause. “I hope you’ll see him soon,” she said.
Natalie smiled wistfully then shook her head. “Enough about me. What about you?”
Carrie started to fill her in. She was just getting ready to tell her about Robert when he came striding toward them, two glasses of water in his hands. “And this is my husband,” she finished with a smile.
“So you did marry this good-looking thing,” Natalie cried with her usual abandon.
“Do I take that as approval?” Robert asked.
Natalie turned to Carrie. “I’m so happy for you.” She gripped Carrie’s hand. “How are you so lucky? How is it that such a dashing man in captain’s stripes is hanging out in Richmond?”
Carrie felt a twinge of guilt then shoved it aside. She had done her share of suffering. No one would commandeer the joy she had now. She was sure the future would steal it soon enough. “He seems to be indispensible to President Davis right now,” she replied. “I know just how fortunate I am.”
The three chatted for a few more minutes; then Natalie moved off with a promise to be in touch soon.
Robert handed over the glasses of water. “I’m glad she didn’t look thirsty. I thought about being gallant and offering mine, but I have to confess I didn’t want to.” Quickly he drained his glass.
Carrie followed suit. “Do you know many of the people here?” she asked curiously.
“Richmond is full of new faces,” Robert replied. “Most of the men here are connected with the government in some way. That’s the only reason they’re not with the army somewhere. Would you like to meet some of them? I’m afraid I’m not as familiar with the women.”