by Ginny Dye
Now, more than ever, Carrie yearned for a good long talk with her friend. Was she making the right decisions? Carrie knew Aunt Abby would give her no answers. But she would ask all the right questions so that Carrie could examine her heart clearly and know what she really believed, what she really wanted, and what would be the best course of action. Sometimes it was so difficult to see a situation clearly when she was immersed in it. She could so easily lose sight of the goal when the surrounding problems pressed in so tightly they obscured her view.
Oh, God......
It was sometime later when Carrie lifted her head, sensing the peace that she could find only in talking with God. Her reflection from the huge, ornately gilded mirror on her wall flickered back at her. Slowly, she began to run the brush through her hair once again. She would take one day at a time. She would do the best she could. She could do no more. And no more was expected of her. Carrie’s heart would almost fail her at times when she tried to look far into the future. But one day at a time. Most of the time she was sure she could make it through just one more day.
Gazing more deeply into the mirror, Carrie smiled at her reflection. As the soft breeze swirled around her, once more she tried to fathom the secrets and mysteries hidden in the mirror. She had sensed them there ever since she had been a young girl. She would spend hours staring into its clear depths, trying to imagine what secrets her great-great-grandmother had bestowed upon the mirror, and whether she, her great-great-granddaughter, would be found worthy to know the secrets.
Carrie knew the heritage the mirror had bequeathed to her. She knew that it stood as a six-foot-tall, gilded symbol of courage and determination - and the will to carve the life she wanted out of impossible circumstances. It had stood as a challenge before her all of her life. Each night it spoke to her - urging her on to be all she could be - to not give in to the circumstances of life.
Tonight it spoke to her once again. But in a different way. The mirror issued the same challenge as always, but then as she stared into it, it seemed to offer back the courage she would need to meet those challenges. The flickering lantern light, tossed about the room by the billowing of her long drapes, seemed to sink deep into the mirror and then come shooting back out at her, offering more radiance on its way out than on its way into the depths. Carrie sat quietly, absorbing the strength and courage it was offering her tonight.
She felt awed, sensing that she had discovered one of the secrets of the mirror. If she could see herself reflected in the mirror and feel comfortable and confident about the condition of her heart, then the mirror would reach out and give her the strength necessary to follow the dictates of her heart.
Smiling softly, Carrie reached over to lower the wick on the lantern. Moving over to her bed, she slid gratefully under the covers. She sighed as the soft warmth of the bed welcomed and cradled her tired body. Just as she rolled over to bury her head in her pillows, a burst of song reached across the night and crept through her window. Carrie sat up to hear more clearly. She knew it was from the quarters. On certain nights, when the breeze blew just right, the sounds of the Cromwell Plantation people singing would rise to her window. Closing her eyes, she listened closely.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low
Sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home.
I looked over Jordan
And what did I see
Coming for to carry me home
A band of angels coming after me
Coming for to carry me home.
Carrie smiled and snuggled deep into her covers. No unbidden thoughts would bother her tonight.
CHAPTER THREE
Robert Borden had a smile on his face as he trotted his gelding away from the bustling area of the Richmond fairgrounds. What had been the fairgrounds, he said to himself wryly. The citizens of Richmond could hardly recognize their city anymore. In a matter of weeks, its ordinary population of forty thousand had exploded. What had been a peaceful town was now suddenly an armed camp. Soldiers were everywhere - walking the streets, filling the taverns, marching with drums and fifes, arriving in swarms at the train station. It was both exhilarating and disconcerting.
Robert had reason to smile. For the first time in three weeks, he had been given permission to leave the Camp of Instruction - now referred to as Camp Lee - and go into town. A message sent to him earlier that day as he was leading his unit in drills had confirmed his dinner engagement with Thomas Cromwell. He looked forward to seeing his friend and welcomed the possibility of hearing news of Carrie. At the thought of Carrie, the smile left his face. In its place was a mixture of pain, exasperation, and anger. He could only hope her father could give him some understanding. Shaking his head, he tried to force thoughts of the beautiful girl he loved out of his head. There were other things he needed to think about. He knew Thomas would have many questions for him.
As Robert rode on toward the middle of town, he barely noticed the cloud of dogwoods that fairly blanketed the gentle slopes of the city. He could hardly believe it had been a month since Virginia had seceded from the Union. He’d had barely a moment to himself since that fateful day. His return to the city from gathering military information in Charleston during the battle of Fort Sumter had resulted in the rank of lieutenant in the Confederate Army. He knew the amount of work to be done before Virginia would be able to defend herself against the enemy perched on her northern border. He had thrown himself, heart and soul, into the effort.
Robert’s mind traveled back now to the units he had left for the evening. Every aspect of the transformed fairgrounds stood crystal clear in his mind. He could see the tents rising in long lines around the permanent buildings. Endless tables and racks for food stretched out beside them. Many a man had nothing but a bedroll and the ground. And still they poured in.
He could still faintly hear the shouted commands of the Virginia Military Institute cadets who had been brought in to establish some semblance of order and discipline in the swelling ranks of volunteer soldiers. Both days and nights had become an endless siege of drills, marches, and orders. Some of the new soldiers complained, but most of them had thrown their hearts into formulating an army able to repel the northern troops of aggression.
As the sounds faded into the distance, Robert was finally able to focus on the city unfolding before him. Though his heart remained entrenched in his beloved plantation, Oak Meadows, he had a genuine love for the city. He also knew he was preparing to fight to defend everything he held dear. On a daily basis, he pushed away his longing for home and concentrated on what it would take to make it remain his home.
As he rode up the street leading past the Capitol Square, he smiled as the Capitol came into view. Stunning from the river, it lost a little of its glamour as he drew nearer. The columned front was commanding, but the dirtiness of its rather drab stucco exterior stole some of its allure. Tonight, though, it seemed magical. The setting sun, slipping down behind the forested slopes of the turbulent James River, cast a pinkish glow that turned it into a splendid palace. Spreading dogwoods changed from white to rose-colored as the departing sun kissed the blossomsgently. For just a moment, if he focused on nothing but the verdant park surrounding the Capitol, Robert could pretend nothing had changed. His fantasy had no hope of lasting, however. Into the brief flicker of peace the setting sun offered, exploded the cacophonous sounds of a city gearing for war. Carriages rattled down the brick and cobblestone streets of the city. Swarms of people - gaily dressed ladies out to catch a glimpse of newly arrived troops, businessmen out to hawk their wares to a burgeoning city, scampering children eager not to miss one single thing that happened - filled the streets to capacity. And everywhere were the troops.
By train, horseback, or on foot, they had poured into the city. At first it was just the volunteers eager to defend the state they loved. They had been joined by soldiers from every state in the Confederacy once word had been received t
hat Richmond was the new capital of their splendid nation. They came armed with shotguns, bowie knives, muskets or squirrel guns. They came in fancy militia uniforms or dressed in the homespun muslin of the hills. All of them came with the confidence that soon they would be home again - laughing all the way about how the North had tucked its tail between its leg and run home when it realized what it was up against.
Robert had agreed with them, until....... Looking up, he realized he was almost to the door of the Spotswood Hotel. Thomas Cromwell now owned a home on Church Hill, but they had arranged to meet here so that both of them would be closer to their work. Robert dismounted, handed the reins over to a servant, and strode eagerly into the hotel. Once inside, he stopped short in surprise.
“Doesn’t look quite the same as it did a couple of months ago, does it?”
Spinning around to meet his friend, Robert exclaimed, “Mr. Cromwell! How are you, sir?”
“Fine, fine. We have a table waiting for us. That’s a rare commodity these days, so we’d best claim it before it disappears.” Thomas gave Robert a warm handshake and then turned and led the way into the well-appointed dining room.
Robert followed him closely genuinely glad to see the older man. He was also relieved to see how well Thomas Cromwell looked. His wife’s death had almost destroyed him - seeming to rob from him any caring for life. Being in Richmond, far from the memories of the plantation had been good for him. Thomas looked once more like the vital man Robert had met the year before.
Thomas led the way to a small table in the far corner. Nestled between two twelve-foot windows, that spot gave them the illusion of being in the midst of Main Street, while it afforded the two men a sense of privacy. Once again Robert looked around.
“Like I said, it doesn’t look much like it did a couple of months ago, eh?”
Robert chuckled. “I should say not.”
The Spotswood had long coveted its reputation as one of the focal points of Richmond society. It was a sign of prestige to be listed among its clientele. Even when it was full, it had managed to maintain its elegance and decorum. The coming of war had changed all of that. Richmond was not prepared for the influx of people pouring into its confines. The dining room was a mass of people, with harried waiters dashing around trying to meet the needs. Bedrolls leaning against the far walls gave credence to the rumors that said when the dining room was empty it became a bedroom for those not lucky enough to find regular boarding in the city.
Thomas looked around for a long moment and then turned back to him. “This one is pretty mild. There are hotels where every chair in the lobby has become a bed, as well as the surrounding floor, and even the pool tables. The Spotswood has set some limits, especially upon learning that President Davis and his family will be residing here until they have a home ready for him.”
“You sound rather excited about it, sir.”
“About President Davis being here? Of course I am!”
“No, sir. That’s not what I meant. You sound rather excited about the crowded condition of our cities. I understand most Richmonders are doing their best to adjust, but they do feel a sense of intrusion.”
Thomas shook his head. “There are those in Richmond who still doubt the wisdom of all that has happened recently. But mark my words, young man, the vast majority of our fair city is solidly behind the crusade we have embarked on. And those who are lagging behind will stand with us soon when they understand the treacherous plans of the North to subjugate us.”
Thomas stared off into the dining room, deep in thought, before he turned back to Robert. “Making Richmond the capital was the best decision our new government could have made.”
Robert nodded. “I agree. At first, I thought it was foolish - putting the capital of the Confederacy so close to Washington…”
“I know what you mean,” Thomas said, interrupting him. His eyes snapping, he continued, “In the final analysis, Richmond was the best choice. The security of our industrial potential is essential to the Confederacy.”
“And Lee convinced me that the five-day march between Washington and Richmond could be made extremely costly to Northern troops trying to invade us,” Robert added.
“Very costly,” Thomas said grimly. “We are counting on our shore batteries and the navy to keep Union gunboats out of our rivers. If they can hold the line on the coast, the distance and terrain between here and Washington favors a determined defense. Our dense forests, rivers, and swamp land are a tremendous benefit.”
Robert nodded, his face intense, as he thought through the strategy that had been discussed so much in the previous weeks. “Our troops can choose their battlefield and strike the North anywhere in the hundred-mile corridor between the Blue Ridge Mountains and Chesapeake Bay.”
“The Union’s cry of ‘On to Richmond’ may very well prove to be a siren’s call luring them onto a killing ground.” Thomas’ deep voice sounded very satisfied.
Robert gazed at the older man for a long moment. Finally he said, “You have come full circle, sir.”
Thomas frowned fleetingly. “Yes, I suppose I have.” Then he paused and looked at Robert. “I, too, remember the first day we met: Our dreams for keeping the Union together, our insistence that secession would be disastrous for the South.” Ruefully he shook his head. “In the end, union was no longer an option. Lincoln was foolish to believe Virginians would take up arms against their fellow Southerners. He pushed us into a position many of us had resisted for a long time.”
“Do you have doubts, sir?”
“Doubts? Perhaps doubts that the action we have taken is in all ways the wisest one. Doubts as to whether there was any recourse left open to us? None,” he said firmly. “Virginia has been pushed into a corner. I learned a long time ago that people can be most dangerous when that happens. They feel trapped and feel as if they have nothing to lose so they might as well give their all.” He took a breath and smiled up at the waiter who appeared beside their table with drinks. Reaching up, he took his whiskey and spoke briskly. “This will be all for now. We will order our meal shortly.”
He took a drink of his spirits and turned back to Robert. “Mark my words, my boy. Virginia is prepared to give its all.” His eyes flushed with excitement. “And I will stand with my state. The North will rue the day they tried to subjugate the people of Virginia - the people of the South.” Then his exuberance dimmed and the careful caution Robert had grown to know so well reasserted itself. “I meant what I said last year, Robert. The South will be victorious in this war, but it will not be without great loss and suffering on both sides. There will be a high price to pay for our independence and the right to live our lives the way we choose. People don’t want to believe that, but the time will come when reality will have to be faced.”
Robert nodded. “I believe that too, sir. After the ease of taking Fort Sumter, I’m afraid I jumped on the bandwagon with those who believed the war would be little more than a scuffle. That the North would see we are serious and elect to let us go in peace.”
“You’ve changed your mind?”
“I would say General Lee changed it for me.”
“General Lee?” Thomas continued before Robert could answer his question. “Lee is a fine man - a real gentleman. He is a man all of Virginia can rally behind. Besides being a fine man, he is an excellent soldier. Virginia can be proud that he chose to take his stand with her.”
“As far as Lee is concerned, sir, he had no choice. He has no use for slavery and hoped fervently that secession would not be the result of the last years of conflict, but once the decision was made he knew he could never take up arms against his native state and the people of the South. His resignation from the U. S. Army broke his heart, sir.”
“Yes, I’ve heard it was very difficult.”
“He has family fighting for the Union. He has left his home overlooking the city of Washington. He is aware he may never go back.”
“Surely he does not think the South will lose!” Th
omas’ voice was suddenly sharp, and he leaned forward to stare at Robert intently.
Robert shrugged. “Lee is going to give the South the best he has. But he shares none of the disillusions I carried for a while.” The young lieutenant paused, took a long swallow of his drink, and stared out over the streets still bustling with activity even though night had settled in. He fought to contain the emotion his own words created. “Lee has told me this is going to be a long war. There will be much pain and suffering on both sides. He does not believe for a minute that the North will turn away from its quest to preserve the Union. He has served alongside many of the men who are now considered his enemy. Lee insists the Northern people will never yield in the contest except at the conclusion of a long and desperate struggle.”
Both men fell silent as they envisioned the results of a long conflict.
Finally Thomas spoke. “You have spent time with Lee. What kind of man do you think he really is?”
“None finer,” Robert responded immediately. “He is a leader well worthy of the state and of our cause.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and carefully smoothed it on the table. “I believe the Richmond Dispatch says it best.”
A more heroic Christian, noble soldier and gentleman, could not be found. Of him it was said before his appointment, and of him it may be well said, no man is superior in all that constitutes the soldier and the gentleman - no man more worthy to head our forces and lead our army. There is no one who would command more of the confidence of the people of Virginia than this distinguished officer, and no one under whom the volunteers and militia would more gladly rally. His reputation, his acknowledged ability, his chivalric character, his probity, honor, and - may we add to his eternal praise - his Christian life and conduct make his very name a tower of strength...