American Struggle

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American Struggle Page 44

by Veda Boyd Jones


  Ohio’s Governor Dennison also addressed the group. He explained that troops from Fort Chase had already been sent to Lexington, Kentucky, and that most of the Cincinnati police force was to be sent out, as well.

  Daria felt surrounded by fear and panic. No one had ever thought the war would come this far north. They’d been lulled into a false sense of security as the war raged miles away. The citizens were confused and frustrated by the conflicting reports of where Colonel Morgan and his men were located. Some said he was pretending to prepare for an attack on Lexington so he could come north another way undetected. Others said he was making a beeline for Cincinnati with thousands of men.

  Daria and Andrew remained in town for a couple of hours, watching all the activities unfolding. As the afternoon grew late, though, they knew they needed to get back to Walnut Hills to report the situation to Mama. Most of the crowds were beginning to thin out anyway.

  “Let’s ask Philip what he thinks,” Andrew suggested. He met Daria’s eyes as though he were daring her to argue.

  What could she say? She knew Andrew refused to share her suspicions. With a shrug, she followed Andrew out of the marketplace and to the bookstore where Philip worked.

  The cool, dim interior of the bookstore gave instant relief from the July heat. Daria looked around for Philip, but he didn’t seem to be there. She remembered he’d said that morning he’d be very busy at the store because a new shipment of books was arriving.

  A stooped, gray-haired man with dimming eyesight approached Daria and Andrew. Adjusting his eyeglasses and peering up at Daria, he said, “Might I be of assistance? Are you looking for any book in particular?”

  “We’re looking for Philip Harnden.”

  “Oh.” The man studied Daria and Andrew even more closely. “Just a moment, please.” And he went to the back room.

  In a moment, another man came out of the back room. He had the look of a gambler, with a starched linen shirt and a purple satin vest decorated with a gold watch chain. His hair was carefully parted and combed back. “You’re looking for Philip?” he asked.

  “Yes. We needed to speak with him for a moment.”

  “I’m sorry, but he just stepped out.”

  “Will he be gone long? We could wait,” Andrew said.

  “It might be an hour or so,” the man replied, pulling out the gold watch from his satin vest.

  “I guess you’re having to put up the shipment of books all by yourselves then,” Daria said.

  “Shipment of books? Oh, yes, the shipment. Yes, we’re taking care of all that.”

  Suddenly, Andrew looked as though a terrible thought had occurred to him. “He didn’t go to rejoin his men, did he? Or to go to Lexington with the volunteers?”

  The man smiled. “Oh, my, no. Not with his bad leg.”

  But Daria knew Philip was walking better on his leg each day. She nudged Andrew. “I guess we’d better go home. Will you tell him we came by?”

  “Your names, please?”

  “I’m Daria Fisk, and this is my brother, Andrew.” “Ah, yes. The young Fisks. He’s spoken of you. We’ll tell him you stopped by.”

  Daria and Andrew left the bookstore. “That’s funny,” Andrew said. “If Philip was out on an errand, why didn’t those men invite us to wait?”

  And why, Daria wondered silently, did the man hesitate when I mentioned the shipment of books? And why was a man who worked in a bookstore dressed in a purple satin vest? It certainly seemed strange.

  At home, Daria and Andrew reported all the news to Mama and Jenny, who had just returned from the hospital, where they’d been working throughout the day. They’d heard bits and pieces of the threat of attack. It was grim news indeed. None of them could even imagine having their city taken over by Rebel forces.

  That evening, Daria took Andrew aside. “Have you even thought about what I said the other night?”

  Andrew looked unhappy. “Some.”

  “Don’t you think that those men at the bookstore acted a little strange? How about if we create a little test for Philip?”

  “What kind of test?”

  “A test to see whether or not Philip’s been telling the truth all along.”

  Andrew shook his head. “That’s devious. I don’t want to be any part of it.”

  “Then don’t be. Just stand by and listen. Will you do that much?”

  Andrew didn’t answer. But he didn’t say no.

  When Philip came home that evening, he went right to Daria and Andrew and apologized for being away when they had stopped by. “Judge Jewett asked that I brief a few of the recruits before they left for Kentucky. I felt it was the least I could do in light of the circumstances. Some of those men are green as a gourd.”

  Andrew smiled and looked at Daria, as though to say, See? I knew Philip would have a good reason for being out.

  “The men in the store didn’t seem to know where you went,” Daria said.

  Philip gave a little laugh. “I heard the alarm bells sounding, and then a man came in saying there might be martial law. Knowing they would need help, I grabbed my hat and ran. Didn’t have time to say anything to anyone.”

  Andrew looked relieved, but Daria didn’t find Philip’s explanation quite so convincing.

  At supper, everyone discussed what was going on in Kentucky, but Philip didn’t seem to know any more than the rest of them. He did comment that the Rebels would never be able to make it past the forces either in Lexington or Covington. “The entrenchments are well laid out,” he said confidently.

  That night as usual, Philip joined Andrew and Daria in the stable to groom Bordeaux. Together, they mucked out the stall and put out clean straw.

  Mama was insisting that Daria wear a hooped petticoat under her dresses these days, and Daria found it difficult to work in the stable when her every step was hampered by the bouncy hoop. Finally, Daria gave up. She pulled out a tack box, adjusted her hoop, and sat down. This was as good a time as any to try her test on Philip.

  She swallowed back her nervousness and said, “Andrew says that when he misses Papa, being with Bordeaux seems to help.”

  “I see,” Philip said. Andrew kept on brushing. Daria knew he didn’t want to even look at her.

  “I’ve been missing Papa something awful tonight,” Daria went on. “It’s been so long since we had a letter.” She paused a moment as though for emphasis. “It seems strange that you’ve seen Papa since we have, Philip.”

  “I was blessed to be given the opportunity.”

  Andrew looked over Bordeaux’s back and gave Daria a warning glare, but she avoided his eyes. “I love to remember the nice things about Papa, like the way he always removed his eyeglasses when he was talking to us. Or,” she paused again, “the way he tapped his pipe out thoughtfully.”

  Andrew peeked over at her again, trying to give her his angriest scowl. She wouldn’t look at him.

  “I wonder, Andrew, if Papa was able to hang on to the fine pipe we gave him. Tell me, Philip, did Papa have his nice meerschaum pipe when you saw him in camp?”

  “He surely did, Miss Daria. That pipe was like it was a part of him.”

  Daria felt a grim satisfaction. Papa abhorred any and all uses of tobacco. He’d never touched a pipe in his life. She heard Andrew make an odd little choking noise, but she covered it with a cough.

  “Do you think he made it through the battle at Donelson with his pipe?” she went on.

  “Can’t say for sure,” Philip answered nonchalantly. “Most soldiers lost much of their gear during a battle. But your papa would have been in the medical tents behind the lines, so I’m willing to guess he’s still puffing on that special pipe.”

  Daria suddenly felt as though she were going to be sick. She jumped up from the tack box. “Goodness, I just remembered. Mama asked me to fill the lamps, and I totally forgot. I don’t want to think about how much trouble I’ll be in if I don’t get it done quickly. Good night, Philip.” Daria looked straight at Andrew. “Good night,
Andrew.”

  Daria waited until midnight, when she was certain everyone in the house would be asleep, and then she tiptoed down the stairs to Andrew’s bedroom. He let her in as though he’d been waiting for her, but then he flopped back down on his bed and didn’t even offer her a chair. “Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” His voice sounded almost as though he had been crying. “But you’re not, you know. There are so many soldiers and so many officers! Philip could be mixed up. He might have Papa confused with another surgeon.”

  Daria looked at her brother sadly. “One who just happens to smoke a meerschaum pipe?”

  Andrew seemed confused for a moment, but then he said stubbornly, “He was just trying to be kind, Daria. He didn’t want you to be disappointed.” He looked at his twin defiantly. “You don’t have to be so smug about it!”

  Daria stepped backward as though her brother had slapped her. “Andrew, I didn’t want to find out Philip Harnden is an impostor. Do you think I did?”

  “I don’t know what to think. But I know there are hundreds and hundreds of men in a camp. He would never remember about one little pipe with all the war and everything. He was just going along with you to be nice.”

  Daria let out a big sigh. “Is that what you believe? Truly?” “Truly,” he answered.

  “Very well, then. I’ve never seen you be so taken with a person. Nothing I could say would ever make any difference.” She turned to go. With her hand on the doorknob, she added, “I thought you trusted me more than that. I am your sister—your twin. But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Martial Law

  Colonel Morgan’s threats of an attack were like a dress rehearsal. The real thing came in late August.

  On Saturday night, August 30, Daria and Andrew hurried into town to get the latest news. General Kirby Smith’s forces had driven northward all the way to Richmond—not the capital of Virginia, but a village just south of Lexington, Kentucky. What few Union troops he had met along the way were raw recruits barely able to reload their muskets. They had quickly fled.

  Panic hit Cincinnati. There was talk that Frankfort and Lexington might have to be abandoned to the enemy.

  Daria and Andrew had to bring home the news that this threat was genuine. The next morning, Andrew rode Bordeaux back into town to see how he could help. Word was that Colonel Morgan had joined General Smith. Kentuckians who still sided with the South were cheering them on and aiding the Rebel forces with food and supplies all along the way. Cincinnati’s mayor announced a citywide council meeting that evening to map out plans for defending the city against attack. At church that morning, the mood was grim.

  That evening, Andrew hitched up the buggy and took Mr. Martin and Philip to the council meeting. When they came home, they reported that General Lewis Wallace would oversee Cincinnati’s defense. General Wallace had fought at Shiloh and made a good showing for himself. He had been in charge of troops at Lexington. After the council meeting, the general was to meet privately with the mayors of Newport, Covington, and Cincinnati to devise a plan.

  That night no one could sleep. Finally, everyone gathered in the parlor to discuss the news. Mirza stopped by, as well, and fixed them lemonade, and Mama invited her to join them.

  Andrew told Mama, “Whatever they need to get done, I’m ready to help.”

  Mama just nodded.

  Daria looked around the room and realized that someone was missing. “Where’s Philip?” she asked.

  “Most likely he’s with the officers, deploying new recruits,” Andrew said confidently. He looked right at Daria as he said it.

  Mr. Martin kept shaking his head and saying, “I never thought they’d come this far north.”

  Mama got out the Bible and read the Ninety-first Psalm. “‘I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust,’” she quoted. Everyone seemed comforted by these words.

  When the mantel clock gong struck two, Mama ordered everyone to bed. “Let’s see if we can get a little sleep,” she told them. “There’ll be plenty for all of us to do in the days ahead.”

  The next morning, Andrew collected as many papers as he could and brought them back to the house. They all contained General Wallace’s proclamation, which placed Cincinnati under martial law, with the federal military taking responsibility for the city’s safety. “How will that affect us?” Daria asked.

  “It says here,” Jenny explained as she skimmed the paper, “that all businesses will close and remain closed until further notice; all citizens must be assembled by 10:00 a.m. to receive orders for work; and all ferry boats will stop running until further notice.”

  The governor of Ohio was staying in Cincinnati. He telegraphed his adjutant general to send messages to all the rural areas of the state, asking every available man who owned a gun to come to Cincinnati and help defend the city. As a result, alarm bells rang throughout the countryside of Ohio.

  By nightfall, volunteers began arriving by trainloads. Hundreds of backwoodsmen in homespun shirts and trousers, carrying their powder horns, buckskin pouches, and long muskets, converged on the city.

  Mama, Daria, and Jenny helped cook meals for the “Squirrel Hunters,” as the folks in Cincinnati called these volunteers. The men were housed in halls, warehouses, and anywhere else where there was room. They were greeted with cheers and treated like royalty. For a time, all was forgotten but the work of fortifying the city. Everyone knew that at any moment the enemy might attack.

  Daria knew that Andrew didn’t sleep or even stop by the house for the first twenty-four hours while he was helping to build a pontoon bridge. Once it was finished, he was set to work building breastworks and rifle pits on the other side of the river. Finally, late in the afternoon of the second day of the siege, Andrew came home. He said an older worker had insisted he go get some rest. Knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer, Andrew had reluctantly done as he was told.

  Just after Andrew came through the door, Philip came in, as well. “Andrew, I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’ve been helping with the work. Where’ve you been?” “Why, with the recruits, of course. Can we talk?”

  Andrew’s eyes were bleary with weariness. “What is it, Philip?”

  “The time’s come, Andrew.” Philip turned toward Daria and shrugged. “I must go. My regiment needs me.”

  Daria thought her brother looked as though he’d been hit—hit hard. She felt relieved that Philip would no longer be under their roof where she felt obliged to always keep an eye on him—but her heart hurt for her brother. She knew how much he had come to love this man.

  “The whole of Kentucky has exploded,” Philip said. “I’m some better now. I may not be able to march, but I’ll report back to my commanding officer to see what I can do to help.”

  Andrew nodded, but Daria saw that his eyes were wet.

  “I’m all packed and ready to go, but I need to ask you something, Andrew, Daria.” He looked from one twin to the other. “Something I could never ask anyone other than close friends like you.”

  “What is it?” Andrew asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “I need Bordeaux.”

  “Bordeaux?” Andrew’s voice croaked.

  “Andrew, I need a horse. Time is of the essence. You know what the railroads are like right now. And the ferries are closed down.” He gave a little shrug and a smile. “I’d walk if I could.”

  “He’s not really mine to give. He’s Papa’s horse. Daria and I are responsible for him.”

  Daria’s mind was reeling. How could Andrew even consider giving up Bordeaux? What would Mama say? And Papa?

  “I need to ask Mama. I must ask her.”

  At least, Daria thought, her brother still had enough sense left to insist on talking to Mama. She held her own tongue, afraid that all her anger and suspicion would come spilling out were she to speak.

  “Where is your mother?”

  “At the Fifth Street Ma
rket House, where they’re feeding the soldiers,” Daria said. “They’ve been there all day. I could ride back into town to ask her.” That would keep Bordeaux safely away from Philip’s clutches.

  As she spoke, they heard the clatter of a carriage out front. Daria went to the window, relieved to see Uncle Jon’s carriage. Better yet, she could see that Mama and Jenny were inside.

  Philip smiled again, his eyes crinkling. “Perfect timing,” he said. “Just perfect.”

  “Let me go ask,” Andrew said, his voice so faint Daria could barely hear it.

  “I’ll come with you,” Philip offered.

  Daria shook her head. “We’d better ask her alone. She’s going to be upset.”

  “Whatever you say,” Philip said.

  As they walked toward their mother, Daria’s mind was racing. How could she explain her suspicions to Mama? She glanced sideways at her brother. Surely now he would believe her.

  Andrew’s face was very pale. “Everybody’s had to make sacrifices,” he said. “It will hurt. But we can do it. We’ll get by.” He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself.

  “How can you still believe him?” Daria asked, but Andrew gave her such a fierce look that she shut her mouth and was silent. She trailed behind as Andrew called Mama and Jenny into the parlor, where he explained Philip’s request.

  Immediately, Mama said, “Well, of course we’ll give him the horse. I know you love Bordeaux. We all do. And Papa does, as well. But there will be other horses. If this will help the corporal get back to where he needs to be, then the horse is his.”

  Solemnly, Andrew nodded.

  Daria felt sick inside. She grabbed the back of her brother’s shirt and kept him from leaving the room. “Don’t do this, Andrew,” she whispered urgently. “Please, please don’t do this. Don’t let that man leave on our horse. Tell Mama what I suspect.”

 

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