Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia

by Jessica James

  Returning again, Andrea saw only one more string of Hawthorne stock remaining to be moved. In the early morning light, a column of dust rose on the road—likely a cavalry unit that had discovered the turnoff to Hawthorne only a half-mile away. Blinking against the acrid smell of smoke, Andrea spied Victoria wringing her hands on the bottom step of the porch.

  “We’re all going to die! They’ll kill us all!”

  Andrea rode Justus up to the porch, leaned forward, and grabbed the panicked woman by her collar, shaking her. “Do as I say, Victoria! Go to the barn, get an armful of hay, and put it in the library!”

  Letting her go, she turned Justus away. “And leave the front door open,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “The library? Are you insane?

  Andrea pulled Justus to a halt and shot Victoria a look that implied she might take the time to dismount and show her just how insane she was. “Do as I say!” The tone of her voice made Victoria scamper to the barn.

  Grabbing the remaining stock, Andrea returned a few moments before the troops appeared in sight at the bridge. Without stopping, she rode Justus up the steps and into the house. Dismounting in the foyer, she led him to the library where Victoria sat huddled.

  “Here.” Andrea handed her the reins. “Keep him quiet.”

  “Oh no.” Victoria backed up and shook her head. “No! I’m scared to death of horses!”

  “Do it, or death is exactly what you’ll be facing!”

  Andrea hastened back toward the door, trying to straighten her ravaged dress as she walked.

  “Aren’t you going to take a gun or something?” Victoria mumbled from where she now stood on a chair, holding the horse’s reins at arm’s length.

  Andrea’s gaze rose to the old muzzle loader hanging over the fireplace—the only weapon she was aware of in the house, and one she surmised had been owned by Hunter’s grandfather. Though the idea of carrying a weapon appealed to her, Andrea turned back and gave Victoria a disgusted look. “I scarcely think a single gun will serve any purpose against an entire regiment of cavalry, Victoria.” Andrea wished she knew what would work against an entire regiment of cavalry, but she was at a loss for an answer.

  A frightened Izzie suddenly appeared in the doorway carrying an armful of haphazard belongings Victoria had apparently ordered her to take to safety. Among the items was a beautiful black mourning gown of silk.

  “Izzie!” Andrea exclaimed, making the girl jump. “Give me that!”

  “That’s my gown!” At Victoria’s outburst, Justus jerked his head up, causing her to scream. “Take this beast!! Izzie, I demand that you stay here and take this horrible creature! Don’t leave me or I’ll see you whipped!”

  “Follow me, Izzie.” Andrea grabbed Izzie’s hand and closed the door, ignoring Victoria’s sobs and screams. She then took the dress, and with Izzie’s help, threw it over the front door while it was open. When they closed the door, the skirt portion appeared like a large, black fan from the outside.

  When Andrea looked up, she beheld a long line of riders in blue, trotting toward her in columns of two. Above and beyond them lay a billowing unnatural blackness of smoke that had spread out and settled over the valley like a thick blanket of fog.

  Andrea limped down the steps, leaning heavily on her cane to exaggerate her injury, and went out the lane to greet the visitors. When they were but fifteen rods away, her legs began to shake. The men carried torches in their hands, sabers on their saddles, and guns around their waists. She had never felt such helpless terror before. Never. Yet never did she feel more determination or carry stronger resolve. The thought of watching Hawthorne go up in smoke overcame any hesitation within her.

  “Gentlemen, what can we do for you?”

  “We’re under orders to set fire to every building in this vicinity. We can give you the consideration of fifteen minutes to remove some personal belongings.”

  Andrea’s heart leaped to her throat even though she had known what was coming. He had orders to lay the region to waste, and she could tell by his tone and attitude that he fully intended to obey them to the letter.

  “Fifteen minutes?” Andrea’s voice was full of disbelief. “Then your men will help remove the sick from inside? I fear most of them cannot get out unaided.”

  “What do you mean ‘sick’?” The officer gazed over her shoulder at the house.

  “Certainly you were informed there are men with smallpox here.” Andrea nodded toward the front door where the black gown fluttered in the wind in silent warning.

  “Smallpox?” The colonel pulled his horse backward a step, his gaze shifting from the house to the disheveled, frazzled-looking girl before him.

  Andrea knew that, to a soldier’s mind, the disease was more painful, more prolonged, and more agonizing than death from the enemy’s guns.

  “Yes. I have fifteen men in there.” She turned toward the house and then gazed sadly off into the distance. “Sixteen if you count the one who just passed and we’ve not had time to bury.”

  Another officer rode up beside the one to whom she spoke. “Colonel, we can’t take her word for it. We need to see one of these here patients.”

  Andrea tried to ignore the sound of her heart pounding. “Of course, you don’t have to take my word for it.” She motioned to the one who had spoken. “Follow me. I’m afraid they’re too sick to come out. Smallpox is a deadly disease you know.”

  The two men looked at each other and began shaking their heads. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”

  “We’re wasting time,” the colonel growled. “Set fire to the barn.”

  Andrea turned toward the officer. “Sir, I know you have your orders, but as you can see, the only horses here are those a Union regiment dropped off a few days back. They took all our breeding stock and left only these poor miserable creatures who have served your troops so nobly.”

  The colonel nodded his head toward his lieutenant, who dismounted at the barn and went in. Indeed all he found were poor, jaded and wounded animals that Hunter’s men had captured—and all possessed the U.S. brand.

  “She’s right,” he said when he reappeared. “Might be better to leave the barn and come back in a few weeks for remounts.”

  “We’ve got to burn something!”

  Andrea looked sadly toward the large chicken house. For some reason, the hens had refused to lay in it, or even go near it, for the past few weeks. But giving the soldiers a woeful look, she pretended it would be a great loss. “Oh, not the chicken house,” she said, wringing her hands.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” The colonel motioned for a torch. “This is war.”

  As the wreathing serpents of flame curled around the rather large outbuilding, Andrea realized why the chickens had neglected to lay there. A swarm of angry yellow jackets flew out, and the Yankees went riding and cursing out of the barnyard at a much faster gait than they had arrived. The officer in charge took one last lingering look at the house and the beleaguered woman sobbing with her face in her hands, then turned his horse and left with the rest.

  “I could have been burned alive,” Victoria shouted the moment Andrea entered the library. “You wait until Alex hears about this!”

  “Miss Hamilton, there is no reason to worry the Colonel about this.”

  “Don’t you think he’s going to notice the chicken house?” Victoria smoothed her dress while watching the servants attempt to douse the flames.

  “Of course he’ll notice, but that’s all he has to know.” Andrea began leading Justus out of the library. “They set fire to the chicken house and the yellow jackets chased them away.”

  After thinking it over, Victoria seemed to come to the conclusion that telling Alex she had been made to hold a horse like a common slave would not be to her advantage. “I suppose you’re right. Why worry Alex with the details?”

  * * *

  Hunter and his men rode into the stable yard of their headquarters stunned and dumbfounded. The building where they had gathered an
d eaten and danced the night away on so many occasions was now a flowing bed of coals. The stone chimney alone stood as a monument to the barbarous destruction the Yankees had wrought. The riders drew together in the glare on the hillside and stared at the spray of sparks and smoke that continued to rise. Every now and then, when the wind stirred, flames would flare, illuminating the sad faces that surrounded it.

  Laura and her mother stood in the yard, sobbing. “Oh, Colonel,” Laura said, running to Hunter. “Whatever shall we do?”

  Hunter clenched his jaw, knowing the same fate had most likely befallen his own estate. “Take the ladies to Hawk Shadow if it’s still standing,” he said over his shoulder to his men. “It appears they’ve turned north. I’m going to Hawthorne.”

  Major Carter rode up beside him. “You want some company, Colonel?”

  Hunter pulled his horse to a stop. “No,” he answered after thinking for a moment. He pretended calmness, but his heart beat frantically as he searched the horizon for signs that his beloved Hawthorne still stood. If the hot breath of war had come upon his home and destroyed its sacredness, he needed to see it alone.

  He urged his mare forward and headed toward his birthplace with a heavy heart. As he crested the final hill, he saw a small column of smoke rising above the trees. But when he rode into the clearing above the house, he had to blink to make sure his eyes did not betray him. First he saw the towering chimneys—still intact—then the house, untouched. Surprise, relief and pure joy washed over him in a mixture of overwhelming emotion.

  “Alex!” Victoria ran to him as he rode up the lane, her skirts flapping haphazardly.

  “The Yankees were here!”

  “I can see that.” Hunter watched Andrea’s lithe form hurry from the barn toward the house without looking in his direction. Even with her cane she walked gracefully, with long fluid strides that bespoke of someone who was going somewhere and wanted to get there as quickly as possible. He watched every motion of her slender figure and was curiously enthralled.

  “They spared the house?” He brought his attention back to Victoria.

  “They set fire to the henhouse and were chased away by bees.”

  Hunter stared at the smoking charred remains of the small building. Nothing but a blackened ruin and some ashes remained, though he could see that an effort had been made to save it from the flames. “Bees?”

  “Yes, bees!” Victoria led him toward the porch. “It was perfectly dreadful, but as you can see, they spared the house.”

  * * *

  With baby Angelina in her arms, Andrea walked into the kitchen and discovered Mattie and Izzie laughing so hard tears spilled from their eyes. “What is so amusing?”

  “We was just talking about that hoss standin’ in the library with Victoria.” Mattie wiped her eyes, still laughing.

  “That were a hoot of a thing!” Izzie, who rarely showed emotion, slapped her leg in glee.

  “I do not think she admired her duty.” Andrea laughed along with them.

  “Naw, she were scairt to def,” Izzie said. “I ain’t never heard tell of the likes! A hoss and Victoria in Ole Him’s big room!”

  The sight of the slaves’ amusement caused Andrea to giggle harder, but the servants suddenly grew quiet, their faces serious. Still laughing, Andrea glanced over her shoulder to find Colonel Hunter leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Andrea’s expression, too, instantly turned solemn.

  “A horse? In my library? With Victoria?” Hunter questioned with curiosity. “I don’t believe I’ve heard this story.”

  His words were met with astonished silence as the three women stood grim-faced in the middle of the room for a few long moments.

  “It was a dream, of course.” Andrea put the baby up on her shoulder, and tried to pretend the topic was trivial. “I told everyone about this crazy dream I had that Victoria had a horse in your library.”

  “Oh, I see.” Hunter nodded his head.

  “Silly, isn’t it?” Andrea stepped around him and out the door. “But you know how dreams are.”

  Hunter pushed himself off the doorway. “I’m quite afraid I do not,” he said under his breath.

  Chapter 47

  “Look to the future, there is no road back to yesterday.”

  – Oswald Chambers

  Hunter heard Andrea stomping down the stairway, her anger evident in her noisy tread. Moments later, the door to the library flung open like it had been hit with a battering ram. The impatient fury on her face at his summons turned to confusion and then nervousness when she saw Victoria, Mattie, Izzie and Gabriella standing in front of his desk.

  “Ah, Miss Evans,” he said. “Come in. How nice of you to join us.”

  With slow, measured steps now, she joined the line of women in front of him.

  Hunter sat on the edge of his desk and flung one boot casually over the other. “The reason I called you ladies together,” he said, scratching his chin, “is, well, it’s a funny thing. I dropped a paper under my desk.” He turned around and pulled something from behind him. “And upon trying to retrieve it, I found this.”

  The women gasped in unison at the handful of hay he held in his hand.

  “And I got to thinking about Miss Evans’ dream.” He stood now and walked in front of them like a drill sergeant. “And I thought to myself, how odd that hay would materialize from a mere dream.”

  Hunter’s gaze drifted down the line of faces. All were looking at the floor, except Andrea. She nibbled on her bottom lip and had fixed her eyes upon the chandelier overhead.

  “Oh, it was terrible!” Victoria ran to Hunter. “She made us do it!”

  Everyone looked at Andrea and nodded in agreement. Hunter watched her jaw tighten, saw the color rising in her cheeks as she tried to maintain her self-control, and then, amazingly to him, she dropped her head and stared at her feet.

  In former times, Hunter would have expected her to explode with harsh language, and, more likely than that, with physical violence. Instead, Andrea appeared determined to restrain herself. Hunter pondered the change in her, his lip curling up with surprised amusement.

  Everyone began talking at once, trying to explain how the event had unfolded. Hunter pictured Andrea barking out orders, going about the business of defending his home with great calmness and authority. He could not help but smile. Her ingenuity was as limitless as her patriotism.

  Victoria began whimpering like a child, as Hunter presumed she had done that day. “I could have been burned alive! It was the most cruel and malicious thing I have evah endured!”

  “Victoria, you were probably in the safest place you could be. Miss Evans would never allow her horse to come to any harm.”

  “Oh, no, Alex! She threatened me!” Victoria grabbed his arm and sobbed into his chest. “She told me if I made a sound, she’d see that I perished with this house! She said my Virginia soul wouldn’t save me from burning into a pile of black ashes! Oh, it was so frightening!”

  Hunter looked at Andrea, who stared at the sniveling Victoria as if she now wished she had followed through with her threat. He could not help but agree. “Truly, Miss Hamilton, if your conduct was as intolerable then as I’m witnessing at present, I only wonder that you escaped cremation. And I believe you should be grateful to Miss Evans for the clemency granted you.”

  Victoria’s head jerked up as though she had received a slap. “You will take her side?”

  “I take no sides. I state the facts.” Hunter looked down at the hay he still held in his hand. “And now that the mystery has been solved, you are all dismissed.”

  Victoria turned with a toss of her head and everyone else made moves to follow.

  “Ah, except you, Miss Evans. I’d like to have a word.”

  Victoria looked at Andrea with a smirk on her face, apparently thinking Hunter’s remarks were only an effort to obscure the punishment that was about to be unleashed on the girl for her cruelty.

  When the door closed, Hunt
er stared at Andrea as she shifted her weight under his gaze. “You wished to ask me something, sir?”

  “I guess I’m wondering … that is, I’m a bit surprised that you would choose to defend my home, rather than leave with … your comrades.”

  Andrea cocked her head, appearing genuinely surprised by the question. “I defended Hawthorne, its future and its legacy. It never occurred to me that those men with torches in their hands were my comrades.”

  “But they were Union troops, were they not?”

  Andrea chewed on the side of her cheek. “I suppose they were wearing blue.” She seemed to contemplate the question again, and then spoke with quiet dignity. “I believe my conviction for right and wrong takes precedence over those for North and South.”

  She crossed her arms, apparently satisfied at having come up with a better answer. “I believe we’re both in agreement that the torch is not a legitimate implement of war. And I don’t believe setting fire to Hawthorne is a fate on which the Union cause depends.”

  Hunter shook his head. She was indeed a law unto herself. Made up the rules as she went and lived by them.

  “On the contrary,” she continued, trying to defend herself. “To allow Hawthorne to burn would only incite more wrath among the citizens of Virginia, thereby creating more suffering and privation for the Federal troops.”

  “I see. So, by defending this estate, you were actually doing the Union a favor?”

  “Yes, of course. You must admit, you would be unrelenting in your revenge had Hawthorne been destroyed.”

  Hunter shook his head and stared intently at the woman before him. Hiding in this slender, feminine form was someone with the wit and the will, the charm and the courage to take on anything in her path—one man or an entire army—it mattered not to her. She knew when to stand up and fight, and she knew when to use cunning and persistence to accomplish her goal.