by Ginny Dye
Carrie wasn’t surprised this time when she saw Jeremy sitting in the parlor. “Welcome again, Jeremy,” she said sincerely, almost surprised to find she meant it. Regardless of what she would ultimately decide about her promise, she was glad to get to know her uncle, and Rose’s twin, better. She caught herself before she shook her head at the irony of the situation.
“Hello Carrie,” Jeremy responded as he claimed her hand, and then took Janie’s hand as well. “How are you, Janie?”
“It’s been a long day,” she said simply. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just run up to get ready for dinner.”
Carrie chose to stay, suddenly wanting a few minutes alone with Jeremy. She smiled as she settled herself onto one of the chairs. “My father?”
“He should be here any moment,” Jeremy answered. “He was going through a document that arrived just before we were to leave. He told me to come ahead and let you know he might be a little late.”
Carrie nodded. She had scarcely seen her father in the last week, and she knew little of what was going on outside the hospital. She had wanted it that way because she was convinced she couldn’t handle anything more than what she faced each day. She waited for her father each night to be assured Robert’s name wasn’t on the list of wounded or dead before she escaped to her room. She knew he understood. Suddenly, she found herself wanting to know more.
“I’m afraid I’ve not wanted to hear any of the news,” she confessed. “Would you be so kind as to fill me in on the events of the last week?”
Jeremy frowned. “I’m afraid I have nothing but bad news.”
Carrie smiled slightly, holding on to her certainty that the war would end. “I hardly expected there to be good news,” she said wryly. “There has not been a single break in the stream of ambulance wagons. That tells me there has not been a break in the fighting either.” She remembered her father’s hope that Grant would fall back. “I take it General Grant is not behaving the way we hoped he would.”
“That would be true,” Jeremy said heavily. “After the two days of fighting in The Wilderness, he simply moved his men and headed down to Spotsylvania Court House.”
“How many?” When Jeremy looked at her questioningly, she persisted, though she was quite certain the answer would make her sick. “How many did we lose?”
Jeremy’s face turned white and hard. “We lost close to eight thousand men.” His voice held no triumph when he added, “The Union lost eighteen thousand.”
“Twenty-six thousand men?” Carrie whispered and then thought of Georgia upstairs. And women she added to herself silently.
“That was just in The Wilderness,” Jeremy stated. “We don’t have the final numbers in from Spotsylvania yet. The Union will have higher numbers than us again, but any Rebel soldier wounded or killed is a waste.”
Carrie looked at him closely. “You hate this war as much as I do.”
“If even the thought of it makes you sick, then, yes, I hate the war as much as you do.”
Carrie took comfort in knowing that someone who was undeniably connected with her felt the same way. “Are they still fighting at Spotsylvania?”
“The last I knew,” he said and then changed the subject. “Your father is a remarkable man.”
Carrie smiled. “I’ve known that my entire life,” she agreed. “Why do you feel that way?”
Jeremy seemed to search for the right words. “Your father is a voice of reason. Oh, I know he believes in the war, and that he wants us to win, but I find I can talk with him about anything and he will listen. I don’t see the same bitterness in him that I see in almost everyone else.”
Carrie smiled again, thinking back to the bitter shell her father had been just months ago until he was able to embrace a truth that released him from the bitterness. “My father is one of the few that realize even if the South loses the war there is still much to live for. He finds comfort in that.” She thought further about what Jeremy had said. “You don’t want the South to win?”
Jeremy stared at her a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t want things to go back to the way they were.”
“Meaning slavery,” Carrie interjected.
“Yes. No one is meant to live in slavery, but….”
Carrie waited quietly for him to go on.
“I thought it would be simple if the North won the war,” Jeremy finally said.
“And you don’t think that anymore?” Carrie asked sharply, thinking of her own desire to head north and begin medical school when the war ended.
“I don’t know what to think,” Jeremy stated quietly, “but I do know nothing will be simple. This war became something no one envisioned, so I’m quite sure no one really knows what will happen when it ends.”
A stomping on the stairs ended their conversation. Moments later, Thomas pushed open the door, walked in, and slumped down into his chair.
May appeared at the door. “You be ready for dinner, Master Cromwell?”
Thomas shook his head heavily. “Give me about twenty minutes, please, May.” His voice was hoarse and strained.
“Yes’suh!” The door swung shut soundlessly as May disappeared back into the kitchen.
Carrie and Jeremy both waited for her father to speak and only nodded at Janie when she slipped in to join them. The rest of the boarders had eaten hours before. No one else would be joining them.
Carrie could tell by the broken look in his eyes that the news wasn’t good - not that there was a chance of good news at this point. She reached over and took her father’s hand. “Jeremy said you received a new document before you left the Capitol,” she said gently, praying it wasn’t a new list of dead that had Robert’s name on it. She took deep breaths while trying to hold the image of the rainbow in her heart.
“Yes,” Thomas said hoarsely. “General J.E.B. Stuart just died.”
His three listeners groaned in unison. Carrie’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of the dashing young cavalry commander who had won the hearts of the entire Confederacy with his flamboyant attitude accented by the long black swooping plume he always wore on his hat.
Thomas shook his head and focused his eyes on Carrie and Janie. “This is the first chance we’ve really had to talk since the fighting started up again.”
“I’d like you to give us a basic idea of what has happened,” Carrie said quietly.
“I’m afraid it’s all bad news,” Thomas admitted. “The fighting in The Wilderness was basically a tactical loss for Grant, but we lost almost eight thousand men making it happen.” He paused for a long moment and stared out the window. “Instead of leaving, Grant took his troops and headed to Spotsylvania Courthouse. Lee figured that’s what he was doing, and beat him there, getting his army into the trenches before Grant arrived.”
Carrie felt a moment of gladness that Robert had the safety of the trenches to protect him, for she was quite certain he was right in the midst of the fighting.
“They’ve been fighting ever since. The Union is taking much heavier losses than we are, but our losses are more devastating,” he finished.
Jeremy scowled. “Grant knows he has a bigger army. He can afford to let more of them die.”
Thomas stared at him wearily. “That’s true. We’re simply running out of men.”
“What happened to General Stuart?” Janie asked, her face white and set.
“He was sent out with his troops to stop a cavalry raid of close to ten thousand men led by Sheridan. They met at Yellow Tavern….” His voice trailed away, and then he straightened his slumped shoulders. “Stuart has pulled off miraculous feats before, but I don’t think he had a chance with this one. He was outnumbered two to one, and the Union army has those new rapid-fire repeating carbines I’ve heard about. Most of our boys were killed.” He stared out the window at the magnolia tree in full bloom. “Stuart was wounded. They brought him here, but they couldn’t save him. He’s gone.”
He’s gone….
The words echoed through th
e parlor. Carrie knew they reflected the loss of more than a popular Confederate officer.
They reflected the loss of more hope, the ebbing away of the belief that the South might somehow win this war after all. The three years they had already lived through under siege had all been horrible, but just eight days into the spring of 1864 made it clear they had not seen true horror before.
Carrie could only imagine how many more men had died in the five days of fighting at Spotsylvania. The steady stream of ambulance wagons said the number would be higher than even she dreaded. She fought to contain the groan that slipped out anyway.
Thomas gazed at her with sympathy, but he wasn’t done yet. “There is a force of close to thirty thousand men who are coming up the James River under General Butler.”
“I leave to join them tomorrow,” Jeremy said quietly.
Carrie and Janie gasped as Thomas shot a look at him. “You’re not a soldier,” he protested.
“Neither is much of the army now being commanded by our General Beauregard,” Jeremy retorted. “He’s had to pull in every teenage boy and old man who can hold a rifle. I seriously doubt Grant thinks Butler can take the city, but it will certainly take some of the pressure off him at Spotsylvania.”
Carrie watched Jeremy closely. He didn’t say it, but the gray pallor of his skin indicated he was terrified. Her heart grew tender. He had wanted to spend the evening with them before he left. “Does your father know?” she asked gently.
Jeremy shook his head. “I’ll tell him tonight.” He looked at Carrie. “I’m worried about him.”
“Is he sick?” Carrie demanded. “I haven’t been able to go to the black hospital since the fighting started.”
“He’s not sick, exactly….” Jeremy paused. “It’s just something I can’t put my finger on. He doesn’t have the energy he used to have. The light seems to have gone out in his eyes.”
“You’re afraid he’s going to get sick,” Janie stated.
“Yes. If any disease starts to spread, I don’t think he’ll be able to fight it off. He spends so much time in the hospital.”
“We’ll send some food home with you tonight,” Thomas said. “Make sure he eats it. I know his congregation needs food, but they need your father more.”
“I’ll try,” Jeremy murmured gratefully.
Silence reigned around the table as they ate the food May placed before them. Thomas had bought May shortly after he bought the house in Richmond. Carrie hated she was still a slave, but she also knew it was just a matter of time before the South lost and all the slaves would be free.
As she looked at Jeremy heaping beans on his plate, she could freely admit to herself that she hoped the South would lose quickly so no one else had to die. Robert. Jeremy. Her father. She knew if the danger was close enough her father would be called into action as he had just weeks before. She was sick of losing people she loved.
She also allowed herself a small quiver of excitement of what it would mean when the war was over. Rose. Moses. Aunt Abby. Matthew. People who she loved dearly, who had been ripped away from her would once again be a part of her world – her country. If they lived…
Carrie looked up as May headed up the stairs with a pitcher of fresh water. “Has there been any change?”
“Not a sound outta that woman today,” May said soberly. “I been dripping water in her mouth like ya tole me to, but….”
“We’re doing all we can,” Janie said soothingly. “Sleep is probably the very best thing for her. The infection has disappeared from her arm, and she seems to be resting better. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”
Carrie couldn’t help thinking of Robert. It had taken him two months to come out of his coma after he had been wounded. Georgia had been unconscious for only a week. She knew Georgia wasn’t that sick; Carrie just had to wonder whether the girl had the will to live - whether she had anything to wake up for.
“The other day she be mutterin’ in her sleep,” May said. “Kept sayin’ the name Jimmy ober and ober, tossing around like de James in a storm.”
Carrie and Janie exchanged looks. They were sure Georgia had a story to tell. Only time would reveal it.
May turned and trudged up the stairs.
“Miss Carrie!” May appeared at the top of the stairs just moments later, her eyes wide with excitement. “Dat Georgia woman be awake. She be askin’ fer you!”
Chapter Seven
Carrie and Janie pushed away from the table and ran up the stairs, then walked more slowly to the room so they wouldn’t alarm Georgia. May was standing next to the bed with a wide grin on her face.
Georgia stared up at Carrie when she walked into the room. “I didn’t dream you up,” she said weakly, her blue eyes staring up at her from beneath short red hair.
“No, you didn’t,” Carrie agreed with a smile as she placed her hand on Georgia’s forehead, glad to see she was completely fever free.
Georgia gazed around in confusion. “Where am I?” she murmured.
“In my father’s home,” Carrie said gently. “I thought it was better that I bring you here rather than leave you in the hospital.”
“How long have I been out of it?”
“A week. Your body needed rest and time to get rid of the infection. Your fever is gone.”
Georgia nodded and then frowned. “They know…?”
“No, they don’t,” Carrie told her quickly. Georgia gasped with relief and then looked down at her arm. “We were able to save it. I don’t know how well you’ll be able to use it, but it’s still there. It will take some time for it to heal. Then we’ll know more.”
Georgia nodded. “Thank you,” she said simply.
Carrie nodded at May, who slipped from the room to fix the sick girl some soup, and then she introduced Georgia to Janie. “You can trust her,” she said firmly.
“It’s so strange to be called Georgia,” she said, her voice still weak. “I’ve been George for almost three years.”
Carrie was bursting with questions, but she knew Georgia needed to get her strength. “Try not to talk right now. May went down to get some soup. We’ll have to feed you little bits at first, but your strength will come back sooner than you think.”
“You ain’t going to ask?”
“Well,” Carrie admitted with a grin, “I certainly can’t say I’m not curious, but now is not the time. You just need to build your strength back up.”
Janie stepped forward. “I’m dying to hear your story,” she said cheerfully, “but Carrie is right, I suppose. I imagine it won’t kill me to wait.”
Georgia managed a weak laugh. “I reckon I got real lucky when I ended up in your hospital ward.” She gazed up at Carrie. “Are you really a doctor?”
Carrie shook her head. “Not yet. But there is such a dire need for people with medical experience that I’m allowed to act as one. Officially, I am Dr. Wild’s assistant, and even that is strange for a woman.”
“You’re filling a need,” Georgia said faintly. “That’s what I did.”
Carrie and Janie stared at her but didn’t have time to ask anything before May rushed into the room with soup.
Just the small bowl Carrie fed Georgia worked wonders. Color started to seep back into her cheeks, and her eyes lost some of their dullness. Carrie was sure, given time, Georgia would recover fully. “We’ll give you some more soup in a little while. Pretty soon you’ll be as bored with beans and cornbread as we are.”
“I reckon it will take me a while to get bored. Sure sounds a heap better than what I’ve been eating, especially for the last year or so.”
Carrie knew how poorly the troops had been eating. It was almost impossible to get supplies to them. Georgia’s thin, pinched face was not all due to her illness. She kept trying to block images of Robert, exhausted and hungry, out of her mind. Her sleep would be filled with him, but for right now she needed to focus on Georgia.
Carrie and Janie were sitting on the windowsill talking softly when Georgi
a woke up again.
Carrie fed her some more soup and was satisfied with the life she saw flowing back into the woman’s face. “How old are you?” she asked suddenly.
“Twenty. I started fighting when I was seventeen. I know I look younger.” She paused, and a deep sadness engulfed her face. “I enlisted with my brother, Jimmy.”
Carrie and Janie exchanged a look; that’s who she had been calling for in her sleep. “What happened to Jimmy?” Carrie asked gently.
Georgia’s eyes filled with tears that she tried to blink back. “He’s dead,” she said woodenly. “I saw him shoot himself right before the flames reached him back in The Wilderness. He’d been wounded. I figured I could go back for him when the fighting started, but I never got the chance.” Her voice cracked. “The fire got him first. He didn’t want to die that way, so he shot himself.”
Carrie shuddered with horror and locked eyes with Janie. No wonder she had slept for a week.
“How?” Janie asked bluntly
Georgia interpreted Janie’s question. “How did I end up in the army?” She shrugged. “Jimmy had to fight, and I didn’t want to get left alone. He was all I had. Me and Jimmy were orphans. It’d been just the two of us since I was ten years old. We didn’t have any family. We just took care of each other.” She paused, remembering. “Jimmy was a year older than me. He made a big deal out of being the big brother,” she said with a small smile.
“But how did you get past the recruiters?” Carrie asked. “They’re supposed to check every man who enlists.”
“Supposed to,” Georgia agreed. “What they actually do is a different story. Can’t say as how I blame them. The South has been desperate for soldiers almost from the start - ever since those fancy boys figured out this would be a real war that wouldn’t end in a few weeks.” She made no effort to hide her disdain. “Anyway, all I did was show up dressed like a fella, tell them my name and age, show them my hands – which were pretty rough from working the farm – and they let me in.”