Annie, Between the States

by L. M. Elliott

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Annie apologized. “But I just can’t help wondering about all that might go on inside that courthouse. Don’t you?”

  That brought Charlotte and Eliza to a standstill. “Land’s sake, no,” said Eliza. “Mama says you see the inside of a courthouse only if you’re a vagabond or a ruffian or worse.” She rolled her eyes and whispered, “Like a fallen woman.”

  “You mustn’t mind Annie,” Charlotte told Eliza.

  “She’s full of ideas. It comes from all those books she reads. At school, she neglected her deportment and needlepoint dreadfully because of them. Miss Williams told her it would be the ruination of her, but Mr. Burton encouraged it.” She smiled at Annie.

  “Eliza and I will just have to corrupt you a bit while you’re here, Annie. Get you away from those books. Let’s peep into the shops. I hear that some lovely new fabrics actually made it past the blockades into town. You might see something you like. This dress, I’m sorry to say, Annie, is a bit old-fashioned.” She plucked at the skirt of Annie’s fawn-colored walking dress, with its carefully stitched rows of flounces and crimson piping. “You know, the Zouave dresses with their little bolero jackets are all the rage now. You could carry those bell sleeves well, you’re so slight of figure. I’m afraid I look rather round in them.”

  But Annie couldn’t be distracted that easily. “Charlotte, really, don’t you ever want to be a man, just for a day, to see what goes on in places like that? To argue a case in front of a judge? Or pass laws? Or ride in a cavalry charge?”

  “Goodness!” Eliza gasped. “Next thing you’ll tell us is that you are a suffragist.”

  Annie was about to answer that indeed, yes, she thought women ought to have the right to vote and to own property, but Charlotte’s pretty face stopped her. There was a silent plea all over it. Eliza, with her ruffled silk dresses and dainty ways, was clearly important to Charlotte. Annie smiled stiffly at Eliza and answered, “I wouldn’t presume such.”

  Charlotte changed the subject. “Any word from Laurence, Annie?”

  As they crossed the street to look in shop windows, Annie told her about Laurence’s letter and Stuart’s ride around McClellan.

  Charlotte’s brown eyes shone and her face flushed a little as Annie talked. She was smitten, all right. Annie wondered if Laurence felt the same. He’d never said so, but then again, Laurence rarely talked about how he felt. Charlotte had a storybook face: heart shaped with pronounced cheekbones and large, thick-lashed eyes, all framed by shining black hair that held the ringlets her maid created with hot curling irons. She certainly was attractive enough to catch his attention.

  “Do you suppose I could send a note to him through you?” Charlotte asked, and then added hurriedly, “Just to wish him Godspeed.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to receive it, Charlotte. I was planning to write him about my visit with you and to re-assure him that Jamie is doing well with the farm business.”

  “You two better be careful about writing letters to soldiers in the Confederate army. Don’t you remember what happened to those ladies last month, Charlotte?”

  The trio had reached the front of a dressmaker’s shop, the window a rainbow of fabrics, plumes, ribbons, and laces. They stood looking in but not really seeing, so intent they were on what Eliza had mentioned.

  “Yes.” Charlotte nodded her head and lost her smile and blush.

  “What happened?” asked Annie.

  Eliza looked around before pulling Annie close, their three parasols shielding them from the street.

  “They were arrested. Rumor has it for corresponding with their relatives who are serving in our armies. That wicked Federal, General John Pope, encamped three divisions around Warrenton at the end of July, and he accused the ladies of spying.”

  “No!”

  “Indeed.” Eliza raised an eyebrow and grew angry. “But what can you expect from a person who authored the conscription bill and has ordered the arrest of any man he deems disloyal to the Union.”

  “Conscription?” Annie asked. She knew the word meant forcing men into military service. The British had done that to American sailors, and that had been one of the causes of the War of 1812. But clearly it also applied to food and supplies. “We lost many of our hens and livestock when the Union army came through Upperville this spring,” said Annie. “They simply helped themselves. But an officer stopped them from taking everything.”

  “Well, if Pope has his way, officers will be ordering it.”

  “What?”

  Charlotte again took Annie’s arm. “Come read these Federal orders. They posted them on the window of the newspaper office. Pope lost no time in becoming a dictator. Within two weeks of Lincoln making him head of their Army of Virginia—such a name, honestly, for our foe to use—anyway, within two weeks, Pope issued this.” She pointed.

  With concern but no real surprise, Annie read Pope’s General Order No. 5—which stated that the Union army would live off occupied territory, taking from Virginia citizens whatever it needed to feed its soldiers, horses, and oxen, giving nothing in return but a voucher, supposedly payable at the end of the war if the owners could prove themselves loyal citizens of the U.S. government.

  General Orders Nos. 7 and 11, however, frightened her greatly.

  No. 7: “…If a soldier or legitimate follower of the army be fired upon from any house, the house shall be razed to the ground, and the inhabitants sent prisoners to the headquarters of the army…. Any persons detected in such outrages, either during the act or at any time afterward, shall be shot, without awaiting civil process.”

  No. 11: “Commanders…will proceed immediately to arrest all disloyal male citizens within their lines…. Such as are willing to take the oath of allegiance to the United States…shall be permitted to remain at their homes and pursue in good faith their accustomed avocations. Those who refuse shall be conducted south beyond the extreme pickets of this army, and…if found again anywhere within our lines…they will be considered spies, and subjected to the extreme rigor of military law.

  “If any person, having taken the oath of allegiance as above specified, be found to have violated it, he shall be shot, and his property seized and applied to the public use.”

  Good God.

  “Jamie!” Annie exclaimed. “I have to find Jamie.”

  She grabbed Charlotte’s hand and turned to hurry to the market square, where she knew Jamie would be with Isaac, haggling over a sale price for their mare. But her parasol blocked her view as she turned, and she bumped into a tall, thick-shouldered man. As she drew back her sun shield, she gasped. She’d stumbled right into a Union officer, neat and trim in his blue uniform.

  “Afternoon, miss. Best look before you turn,” he said pleasantly. “Are you all right?”

  Speechless, Annie nodded.

  The officer smiled and tipped the brim of his hat. “Afternoon, Miss Eliza, Miss Charlotte.”

  “Good afternoon, Major Goulding,” Charlotte and Eliza sang out together, polite, schoolgirlish.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you ladies for a while. I’m leaving town today. But I very much enjoyed escorting you both to the outdoor theater our army hosted last month. Please take care of yourselves.” He tipped his hat again and started to stride off.

  “Oh, we will miss your company mightily, Major, but certainly not that of your army.” Eliza smiled as she gave her insult. She cocked her head to one side, so that she looked at the major from the corner of her violet-blue eyes, veiled by her long lashes. She even fluttered them slightly as she spoke. It was the perfect coquette look.

  Annie was aghast. Was Eliza actually flirting with this Yankee?

  “Oh, now, Miss Eliza, you better accustom yourself to our company. General Pope is moving south, quite rapidly right now. I wager we’ll be in Richmond within a month. And then the war will be over.”

  Annie saw Eliza’s mouth tighten momentarily, but then she smiled again, dazzlingy. Her bonnet of whi
te unfinished silk, edged with lavender flowers, perfectly framed her delicate face and highlighted those eyes. “Why, Major, you can’t believe that,” she said smoothly.

  “Can’t I? We’re about to take Gordonsville and the Virginia Central Railroad Junction there. When that happens, Bobbie Lee will be completely cut off from his supplies in the Shenandoah Valley. You’ll see. We’ll be in Richmond in no time.” He crossed his arms and grinned at her. “In fact, Miss Eliza, I’ll wager you a bottle of champagne on it. In a month, I’ll be dining in Richmond. And I hope to meet ladies there as gracious as you.”

  “I accept your wager, sir, with pleasure. You Federals have consumed all my father’s wine. He will be glad to receive your champagne as payment for your lost bet when you fail.” Eliza’s voice was playful.

  The major laughed good-naturedly and tipped his hat once more.

  After he passed, Annie looked at Eliza with wide eyes. “You know that Yankee?”

  “Of course.” Eliza sighed, growing impatient with explaining everything to Annie. “The town has been flooded with them most of the summer. They attended our church services. They constantly paraded along our streets. They hosted balls. Out of politeness, we had to pretend to go along with them. But I always covered my ears when their bands played their horrible Union tunes. And I’d step into the gutter before walking under the Union flags they hung on our buildings.

  “But, you see, Annie”—Eliza grew intense as she spoke—“they do fall over themselves to impress a pretty girl. They let slip all sorts of details of their plans just as the major did a moment ago. You never know when that might prove useful to our boys.”

  Charlotte chimed in. “They are quite the brag-garts, Annie. Eliza’s right.” She turned to Eliza. “I had wondered where they’d all vanished to this week.”

  “They’ve been skirmishing up and down the Rapidan and Rappahannock rivers, south of here, following that battle outside Culpeper, at Cedar Mountain,” said Eliza matter-of-factly.

  How did she know that? Annie wondered. With their newspapers shut down by the Federal troops, Fauquier County residents had to deal mostly with wild and anxious rumors. But Eliza seemed quite confident in her information.

  Eliza looked away from her companions for a moment, thinking. “I wish I had someone trustworthy to give this information. But I suppose General Stuart already knows Pope’s plans. The man is so bombastic, he’s sure to have bragged publicly and alerted our boys already. Did you hear what he told his troops? That he plans to keep his headquarters in the saddle. His own soldiers joke that he doesn’t know his headquarters from his hindquarters.

  “But I do wish I could just ride out and tell General Stuart myself.” Eliza turned to Annie.

  “Perhaps I would like to be a man, just this once.”

  Annie couldn’t help it. Maybe she and Jamie were more alike than she cared to admit. She blurted out the story of her own ride to warn Stuart the previous September. She failed to include the fact that Stuart had had no need of Annie’s urgent information. Annie didn’t exactly say that she saved Stuart’s men from disaster, but her omission that they already knew the Federals were coming and were riding out to meet them definitely left the impression that her ride had been critical. Certainly it was daring, no matter what the outcome.

  Charlotte gaped at her, her brown eyes the size of eggs. But Eliza smiled, eyebrow raised. From that moment, they were friends. For the first time in her life, Annie felt admired and coveted as a companion in a way she’d seen other girls bond at school but she herself had never known. It felt good.

  Annie had no inkling how much she would come to regret having shared the story of her ride with others.

  Three days later, Annie was packing to return home. It was early morning and she was trying to dress without waking her friend. The two of them had shared Charlotte’s bedroom during Annie’s visit, and Charlotte was still curled up in the massive canopy bed, her dark curls sweeping out across the crisp white linens.

  It had been a wonderful visit. Annie had come to appreciate Charlotte’s gentle nature and could see her affection for Laurence was genuine, not just one of many conquests. Annie had watched other girls gather marriage proposals by the handful, and although Virginia society fully accepted the lighthearted courtships, Annie had always thought it shallow. One either loves or doesn’t. It shouldn’t be played at.

  But then again, how did one know that the queasiness, the heart flutters, meant love, true love? Annie sat down by the window and pulled out the poem from Stuart, rereading it for probably the five hundredth time. Most of it she had memorized. I saw thy beauteous image bending o’er…

  “What are you reading, Annie?” Charlotte stretched and rubbed her eyes.

  “Oh, nothing important.” Annie fumbled with the letter, sticking it into the middle of the Byron poetry collection she had brought along to read during her trip. The very book she’d received from Thomas Walker, the cavalryman from Massachusetts. She noted the irony of hiding Stuart’s letter within a Yankee’s book. Still, Annie knew well that in another day, a day before the war, she could have seen Walker as a possible sweetheart. She stood up and faced Charlotte.

  “I’ve had such a lovely time, Charlotte. Thank you for asking me and for tolerating Jamie!”

  “Ah, yes.” Charlotte grinned and sat up. “The red-headed rapscallion. How can he be Laurence’s brother? And yours?” she hastily added.

  Annie didn’t mind the barb at Jamie. He had been a handful in Warrenton. After their encounter with the Federal major, Annie had hurried to find Jamie, worried by Pope’s orders to arrest men disloyal to the Union. With the slightest encouragement, Jamie was all too ready to rant about the Yankees. He might even brag on his plans to shoot at Federal troops from that tree. Given Pope’s orders, their house could be burned down for Jamie’s exploits. Annie had another fear brewing, too: that Jamie had taken the oath of allegiance in the Alexandria jail while clearly having no intention of keeping it—something for which Pope’s men could now legally shoot him, no trial needed.

  They’d found Jamie in the market square, Isaac trying to get him into their supply-laden wagon. He had indeed sold the troublesome mare for a good price—$125 in Union greenbacks—to a Yankee officer. As horse-trading tradition dictated, they’d begun the bargaining with a drink of whiskey. They ended it with one as well. Jamie had never tasted spirits before. They didn’t sit well with him. First he shouted across the green at Annie about how smart he’d been to sell a wild horse to a stupid bluecoat who’d surely be thrown and hopefully killed by her. Then he demanded to know where in the blazes they’d been. Poor Isaac was doing all he could to quiet the boy, and Jamie lashed out at him, pushing him over.

  When they finally convinced Jamie to get into the wagon, he fell all over the supplies he’d managed to purchase from the sale of the mare—including the salt that was so vitally important to Hickory Heights. When Annie told him to hush and sit and not destroy the salt, he turned purple with rage. Then, rather suddenly, he threw up.

  All this Charlotte witnessed and somehow thought funny.

  “You know, Charlotte, I can’t account for Jamie.” Annie laughed. “Believe me, Laurence has tried with him.” She grew serious. “But I do worry so about him and what he might—”

  The door flew open, as if on cue, and in dashed Jamie.

  Charlotte shrieked and slid under the covers. Jamie didn’t even notice her.

  “Annie, Annie, finish dressing, for the love of God, and come downstairs. They say General Stuart is riding into town!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  August 22, 1862

  Warrenton, Virginia

  “Oh, listen, listen, can you hear?” Eliza called out. “They’re singing! Hush, ladies, listen.”

  Annie strained to hear male voices, now just barely audible from the western edge of Warrenton. She stood among a crowd of people—old men, boys, women, schoolgirls, children. All were anxious, breathless. Some held hands. T
he women clutched whatever flowers they’d been able to pluck from their gardens, which were withering under the August glare.

  It started as a whisper but then grew loud along with the clear clip-clop of horses—“The Bonnie Blue Flag”:

  “Then here’s to our Confederacy, strong we are and brave,

  Like patriots of old we’ll fight, our heritage to save;

  And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer,

  So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.”

  The crowd was absolutely still, mesmerized, until suddenly Eliza picked up the chorus in a murmur, followed by Charlotte, the elderly couple beside her, Jamie, and a knot of other teenage boys, one after another. The song rippled through the crowd, until hundreds of voices sang out:

  “Hurrah! Hurrah!

  For Southern rights, hurrah!

  Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.”

  “Here they come!” Jamie shouted.

  Around a bend in the street came Stuart and more than a thousand horsemen at a trot, somehow far more gallant in their drab gray uniforms and rowdy entrance than any spit-and-polish Federals with their bright navy-blue uniforms, brass buttons, flashy gold epaulets, and formal parades. Annie felt tears on her face as she and dozens of others pushed forward to greet them.

  “Hurrah for Stuart! Hurrah for Virginia!”

  A people starved for the sight of their champions rushed to surround the horsemen, swallowing them up. Ladies threw rose petals and daisies. Others offered cider and biscuits. Men reached to touch the riders’ boots. Citizens who recognized loved ones in the ranks cried out with joy. Riders leaned over to hug them. One man pulled two children up onto his horse and buried his face in the curls of the littlest girl, who clung to his neck.