New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series)

by Doreen Winona Logeot

  Thomas pulled an easy chair closer to her, but spoke to Sam. “You must be wondering how we met and how it is after seeing thousands of faces we would remember each other. Don’t want to alarm you, Sam, but I was fortunate to spend the night with your future wife.”

  “Captain … ah, Thomas,” Sara said, quite alarmed. “You know it was nothing at all like how that sounds.”

  Sam sat back, still puzzled with what was going on. Amelia and Cedric seemed interested in what had to be a very unusual story.

  Sara squeezed Sam’s hand and said to him, “It is nothing at all like it sounds.”

  “I’m sorry,” grinned Thomas. “That is certainly not being a gentleman, is it? I must defend Sara here and say it was innocent, although I must say if I met her at a different time and place I would certainly have given Sam here a run for his money.” He looked at Sara, “I will let you tell the tale as it seems at the moment my word may be questioned.”

  Sara took a deep breath and started to tell of their meeting. Looking at Sam she began, “Remember, I told you after I helped to care for the injured at Shiloh I felt I couldn’t do it anymore and walked away.” Sam nodded, but said nothing waiting for her to continue. “I thought if I had to, I would walk all the way back to Canada. But it didn’t take long before I found out how dangerous it was going to be. The first five days I managed to travel only forty-five miles, when I should have gone at least a hundred. I often saw troops either Confederate or Union, but I tried to stay hidden from them, realizing how much danger I put myself in. I took enough provisions with me to last for several days, thinking I would find places to stop along the way. Most homes seemed to be abandoned and at one point after my rations ran out, I went into one of the houses. It certainly looked like I was not the first person to have gone inside to see what might be left behind and all I found was a piece of dry bread mice had eaten most of. I looked down into the cellar but it was so dark I wouldn’t dare go searching any further. I searched upstairs to try to find clothing to take with me, but there was nothing, except a half-eaten dried apple which went hard sitting on a table. It seemed to be a step better than the mouse-eaten bread and I was so hungry it didn’t matter to me who may have eaten the other half. I found an old ripped-up blanket and took it to wrap around myself at night. It was early April and the evenings were still cool.”

  Sara held on tightly to Sam’s hand and he returned the grasp knowing how she remembered every tiny detail, making it feel like she lived it only a short time ago. It was silent except for Sara speaking of her adventure, until Martha stepped into the room. She pushed a silver coffee service on a trolley and presented everyone with a cup of the hot beverage.

  Cedric stood and went to the side board saying, “I think this storytelling needs something slightly stronger than coffee,” and he proceeded to pour a small amount of a liqueur into the men’s cups and with a questioning look to the women which was met with approval, added the same to theirs.

  Thomas spoke up, “Yes, I remember you enjoyed a small drink of whiskey back then too, didn’t you,” he directed his words to Sara.

  “It was quite amazing how a small drop can warm its way through a cold body,” she answered, taking a sip of the hot coffee, before continuing her story. “I walked for another day before I happened along a Union troop on march to their next command. I was so hungry by this point I walked toward one of the captains on horseback. Immediately their weapons were drawn and I was placed under arrest. I could have been a Confederate spy and from what I heard it really was not uncommon for women to do that. I was shackled, but placed in a munitions wagon, which was always under guard of course. I was given water and dried bread and really wasn’t worried because we were going in the right direction. I was so hungry and tired, this was what I needed.”

  “I slept in the wagon until I was wakened by a jab of a bayonet to my ribs and the soldier forced me to walk to the administration tent where a general was waiting. I tried to explain I came from Canada and was a nurse at some of the battle sites. It was not common for women to be right at the site and my Canadian papers were so worn they didn’t believe anything I said. From all of the commotion it seemed they were expecting a high-ranking commander to arrive within the next few days and a spy was of great danger to them at this point. Nothing I said would convince them of who I was and one man suggested if my story was true I should be arrested on account of desertion. I couldn’t believe my ears. I gave all that I did and was still being treated this way. I was taken to my own private tent and of course placed under guard. Soldiers looked at me, but they didn’t give me the respect I was used to. A mirror and basin of hot water was brought to me outside of the tent and I washed under close watch.”

  Amelia was shocked. “They didn’t give you privacy to wash?”

  “If I was a spy I could have been in the mind to do anything to escape with the news a high-ranking officer was coming. That might include breaking the mirror or the porcelain bowl the water was in, to make a weapon.”

  Again Amelia spoke up, quite interested with the tale, “Porcelain … they had porcelain washbasins?”

  “Well, of course,” Sara grinned. “You wouldn’t believe what they carried for the head commanders of the brigade and I must say I was honoured to be allowed to use these supplies. When I looked in the mirror I understood why my credibility was questioned. My hair was tousled, with bits of twigs and straw tangled through it and I was completely filthy and covered with scratches from the brambles and rose bushes I hid in. I looked nothing like a medic.”

  “After I got cleaned up, I was taken back to see the general. I was told I would be kept shackled and under guard, until they could take better consideration of my case. By this time it was starting to get frightening and I was realizing a lot of these men had been without the company of a woman for a long time. I was going to have to put my trust in the guard. It wasn’t hard for me to spend my time in the tent, but the door was kept open and I had to be in view at all times.”

  “All times?” Amelia repeated, “What about … when you needed your privacy?”

  Sara blushed and held more tightly onto Sam’s hand. His look was one of great concern. He wished he could have taken care of her then.

  “A soldier would hold a blanket for me to go behind and sometimes would ‘accidentally’ drop it at the most inappropriate time. A kind corporal walked up to the mean one and pushed him aside and held the blanket himself. He told me about his sister and was hoping she was being treated much better than I was. He took it upon himself to watch over me and make sure I wasn’t harmed.”

  “We were camped at this location for most of two days, when word was received the important commanding officer was to join them within the hour. I was being considered quite an inconvenience at this point and they were talking of jailing me as soon as possible. The charge was treason, for aiding Confederate soldiers. I was to be sent to Washington to stand trial, which of course might be a wait of well over two years in prison until it would even get to court.”

  The others all showed a look of deep concern, except for Thomas who had heard the story before.

  “The whole camp seemed to go quiet when I was in the commander’s tent and suddenly through the door came Brigadier-General Ulysses S. Grant demanding, ‘You will do no such thing.’ Immediately all the men stood at attention and saluted their superior officer, who gave them quite a scolding. He told them he met me less than two weeks previously at Shiloh and they should be honoured to meet me. I was invited to dine with him for dinner that night. It seems I had the soldier who held the blanket for me to thank as he stepped forward to the general as soon as he arrived.”

  Cedric spoke, “You dined with the President of the United States?”

  “Well, he would not be president for another seven years, but yes, I enjoyed a special meal with him, complete with an expensive setting of china and crystal. He told me he would be much more careful than he had been at Shiloh as the Confederate army had
surprised him. He asked me what I did since the beginning of the war and listened closely when I told him, as if he really was interested. When he asked how old I was I honestly admitted to being seventeen. Up to this point I added three years to my age whenever anyone asked. He was quite astounded and wrote me a paper to hopefully offer me safe passage home. In that letter he also wrote I gave aid to Confederate soldiers, in the event I may end up in their hands. Under no circumstances should I be held for treason as I only helped my fellow man. He wished me well, but after our meal he had to meet with the other commanders, as there were battles to discuss.”

  Sam gently put his hand on Sara’s back, “But how does Thomas enter this story?”

  “I’ll try to make a long story short.”

  Cedric spoke up right away, “This is much too interesting to be cut short.”

  Amelia added, “Please continue on, this is the most exciting story I have heard in a long time.”

  “The general’s letter was really a saving grace for me, as whenever I would join up with a new Union regiment I was treated with respect. There were no longer any leering glances or question of imprisonment. I would ride in a wagon with a troop heading east and if possible northeast. At times I helped with minor injuries, but I felt the need to avoid any major battle sites. About a month later, after travelling here and there, the troop received word of the battle at Mechanicsville, not far from Richmond, Virginia, the Confederate capital. At this point I travelled nearly six hundred and twenty-five miles from Shiloh. I left the company, avoiding the battle site and started walking away from the city.”

  “Over a hill was a Confederate campsite and although it was dark, from the light in the fire pits I saw the hospital tents and I tried to avoid being seen. I was about to cross a small creek when I heard a man shout for me to stop. Through experience I knew when ordered to do so, the best thing was obey. I put my hands in the air and turned around to find a wounded Confederate captain looking at me. I guess old habits die hard and I walked to him and insisted to look at his arm. Without any question he removed his jacket and that, my friends, is how I met Captain Rosser.”

  “Amazing,” Amelia said. “What happened next?”

  Thomas took the opportunity to take over the tale, telling what he remembered of the night after the battle at Mechanicsville. “Sara didn’t seem to be scared at all, in fact rather bossy as she ordered me to uncover my arm. She was quick to scold when she saw the wound happened several hours earlier and I wasn’t in any hurry to have it looked at. She didn’t have medical supplies with her so we walked back to the camp. A medic stepped forward to offer aid, but I wanted her to tend to it. I must say of all the medical aid I sought out, no one compared to her gentleness and excellent care. She showed me her letter from General Grant and we spent the rest of the night talking about the war and a lot about her experiences. It seemed almost no time went by and the sun was starting to rise and I had to return to the troops, when the bugle sounded.”

  “The captain was kind enough to order me an escort to take me as far as Washington,” Sara resumed. “I arrived about a week later and the rest of my journey home went without any serious incident. I never found my letter from General Grant after that encounter, but fortunately I didn’t have any need for it. I found the Union medical box, I brought home with me, en route to Washington. It was probably left behind in the night after a battle.”

  The major-general started to take out his wallet, attached to his belt with a chain, from his back pocket. Without saying a word he removed a paper from it which looked to have been folded and unfolded many times and was torn where the paper was thin. Thomas opened it for one last look then reached over to Sara, handing it to her. She just about dropped it when she saw it was indeed the letter from General Grant. Thomas spoke, “I found this on the ground where we were talking and I always thought maybe someday I would see the young lady with the haunting eyes again. Never thought it would take twenty years, but I never had the heart to throw it away.”

  Sara was unable to speak, but mouthed the words “Thank you,” and stood to offer Thomas a hug. As she did so, he looked at Sam and smiled, “If it was a different time and a different place …”

  Sam returned the smile and nodded, knowing how lucky he was to have the love of such a special woman.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They visited well into the night. General Rosser explained, mainly to Sara, about how he was wounded at two more battles and left the war a brigadier-general. At one point he started to tell the story of a friend he met at West Point. “You have probably heard of General George Custer who made himself quite famous at the Battle of the Little Big Horn by getting himself killed. I was a friend of his at West Point, but he was a Northerner so of course we went our separate ways. He was ordered to kill or at least deactivate me during the Civil War although I managed to avoid him. At one point I got the move on him and captured forty of his men, although unfortunately Custer was not among them. Amazingly in ‘73 he was ordered to Dakota Territory to protect railway surveyors. I was one of the men he was ordered to defend, not that I really needed his help. The U.S. Army couldn’t come to a truce with the Sioux Tribes, so decided to crush them instead. Always willing to do what others may not, Custer and his troops scouted ahead of the main force … which brought his life and the lives of two hundred and sixty-four others to an end. He underestimated the number of Sioux warriors and they were greatly outnumbered and easily overtaken.”

  Rosser continued to tell of how he joined with the Northern Pacific Railroad in the United States, starting as a labourer but working his way to chief engineer. Eventually he found himself in Canada working for the Canadian Pacific Railroad and today was sitting with someone he hoped he would meet again. When he was finished with talk of himself, he asked Sara what happened in her life.

  She answered him briefly, explaining she married in New Brunswick and they moved west to farm in the new land. She only said her husband died, offering no further explanation.

  It was near midnight when the general excused himself. He needed to rise early the next morning to carry on with his journey south. He also told everyone he thought it was time to stop land speculation, as at this point they were all quite wealthy and it was time to take fewer gambles and settle down. As they parted company he shook Sam’s hand and once again offered his congratulations, saying he knew Sara would be well cared for. He turned to Cedric, exchanged handshakes again and thanked him for the most interesting evening. He kissed Amelia’s hand and turned to Sara. He gently touched his lips to her hand, saying how glad he was to see her again and return the letter, then left without a further word.

  As the door closed the room was silent until Amelia stood, offering to show the Fieldings their room for the night. She suggested to Sara in the morning they should go to the new J. Robinson’s and the Hudson’s Bay Department stores, which were said to supply your every need. Both couples gave their goodnight wishes and went into their own rooms, closing the doors behind them.

  Sara sat on the edge of the soft bed, looking at the worn letter. From across the room, Sam saw a tear fall onto the paper and as she wiped it away the ink smudged a little. He sat down beside her and held her close, being silent for the moment.

  Finally she spoke, “Things like this seem to make that war turn from a bad dream into reality. Few good things happened in those two years. This letter and the kindness of General Grant being one and the Captain seeing I arrived safely in Washington, another.”

  “It was fortunate you met him in Virginia. He must be very special to you.”

  “Only as a man making sure a child is returned safely home.”

  “You were no child.”

  “I was a child, much too young to consider doing such a thing. My father opposed my decision, but I was stubborn enough and I thought mature enough to go. It wasn’t until I arrived back home in New Brunswick I realized how dangerous it was. I could have died at almost any moment.” She stood an
d placed the folded letter down into the bottom of their hand luggage and removed her long nightgown from the case.

  They lay in the bed, holding each other in silence, as today, more than enough was remembered and said.

  The four sat at the dining room table the next morning, enjoying their breakfast of crusty buns with cheese and jam and coffee. The Fieldings packed their overnight luggage as they were scheduled to leave in the afternoon to return to Brandon.

  “Do you keep a journal, Sara?” Cedric asked, “You seem to have such exciting tales to tell.”

  “No, I’ve never really thought too much about it.”

  “It can be good therapy too, to write down bad memories,” Amelia added. “And your experience in the war must be full of bad recollections.”

  Sara nodded her answer and they all realized how true Amelia’s last statement was.

  Cedric spoke up, trying to lighten the mood, “Sam said you lived in the Brandon Hills for many years. Have you ever met the hermit?”

  “The hermit?” Sara responded. “Never heard of a hermit living in the hills.”

  “There is quite a story about how the Brandon Hills were named,” Amelia said, quite excited at the opportunity to also tell a story. “It all began when a young nobleman was forced to move to Canada after a run-in with the law in Scotland. It seems he went to work for the Hudson’s Bay Company and was stationed at Portage La Prairie. An officer, also posted there, discovered his wife and the Scot having an affair and the man was forced to run away and hide in the Brandon Hills. He supposedly named them after the hills in Scotland. Do you think there is any truth to it?” Amelia asked.

  Sam took the opportunity to tell what he knew. “Sounds rather interesting, but from what I heard the hills were named after Brandon House, which was located seventeen miles southwest of the new city. The fort was named after the Scottish location.”