by Ginny Dye
The Union military was everywhere. The primarily black troops that had marched into Richmond after the surrender were now mixed with white troops that had been sent to bolster their numbers. They were patrolling the streets, making sure no Confederate veterans lingered on street corners or gathered in groups to talk, still suspicious that more Southerners had been involved with the plot to assassinate Lincoln.
Just as Rose had said, she saw many more black people on the roads. Spencer had stopped at an intersection when a group of black people disembarked from a wagon. Carrie smiled as they raised their hands in praise to God as they stared up at the white Capitol Building that had been untouched by the fire.
“Looky dat!” one man exclaimed. “We be here in Richmond at last. And we be here as free people! We ain’t slaves no more!”
A young woman, her eyes shining with delight, clapped her hands together tightly and began to sing. “Slavery chain done broke at last; slavery chain done broke at last — I’s going to praise God ‘til I die.” She swayed her hips, raised her arms high, and did a joyful little dance step.
The rest of the group joined in with her. It only took moments for the song to spread through the crowd of meandering black people.
Carrie’s smile changed to a frown when she saw the scowls from white people on the streets. She felt something tighten in her chest when the scowls turned to glares of hatred and resentment. She was quite sure it was only the heavy presence of Union soldiers that kept order in the midst of such intense feelings.
Her thoughts flew to Clifford’s growing hatred, and fear for Janie sprang afresh into her mind. She took a deep breath and forced it back out again. She had decided to live just this day. She wasn’t going to borrow trouble she had no control over. She was relieved when Spencer directed the carriage through the intersection and left the crowds behind.
She heard the train station before she saw it. The fact that the station survived gave at least a small sense of normalcy. There were still people coming and going into the city. Supplies for the few remaining businesses were making it through. Everything looked horrible now, but time would change that. They would rebuild — that she was certain of. The people of Richmond would not remain defeated. They would grieve all they had lost, and then they would rebuild. The biggest question that remained in Carrie’s mind was what kind of city they would build. Would it be a city based on hatred and revenge, or a city based on equality?
*****
Carrie spotted Aunt Abby as soon as she stepped from the train. She stood up in the carriage and waved her arm, directing Spencer to claim her baggage. “Aunt Abby!” she cried, rushing to give the older woman a warm hug as soon as she drew close. “I’m so happy you’re back!”
Aunt Abby grabbed her close. “Oh, I am too, Carrie. It’s so very good to see you again!”
Carrie stepped back and peered into her face. “It was bad,” she said softly, saddened by the grief lurking in her eyes.
Aunt Abby sighed and nodded her head. “It was bad,” she agreed. “But I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else,” she said firmly, stepping into the carriage and settling her soft gray dress around her. “We have so much to talk about.”
Rumbling carriages, the shriek of train whistles, and the shout of porters and baggage boys made it difficult to hear anything. “We’ll be out of this in a minute,” Carrie said loudly, glad when Spencer strapped down the last bag and climbed back into the carriage seat.
Ten minutes later they were far enough away from the train station to have a conversation.
“Will you tell me about it?” Carrie asked.
“Certainly, but I prefer to wait until we’re all together over dinner,” Aunt Abby replied. “I would much rather tell you about what I decided while I was in Washington.”
“I’m listening,” Carrie leaned back against the seat.
“I’m going to open a factory here in Richmond,” Aunt Abby began.
“Here?” Carrie asked. “Richmond? What about your factories in Pennsylvania?”
“They will continue to run with the managers I have in place. I can make trips there when needed to oversee everything.”
“But…” Carrie stammered, stunned by the sudden announcement. Then a wide smile broke out on her face. “Then you’re staying? You’re not leaving?”
Aunt Abby squeezed her hand and smiled. “That’s correct. Now let me tell you why.” She took a deep breath. “Without going into any details of the funeral procession, I will just say I had a life-changing moment of epiphany when the funeral wagon passed beneath the balcony I was standing on.” Her eyes glistened with tears as she remembered.
Carrie waited quietly, her own heart aching as she watched the waves of sorrow sweep over Aunt Abby’s face.
Aunt Abby shook her head. “With President Lincoln gone now, there is some doubt that President Johnson has Lincoln’s same feeling about equality for the newly freed slaves.” She held up her hand before Carrie could interrupt. “I’ll tell you about that later. Just know that I have discovered enough to be gravely concerned about his intentions and course of action in the future. When Lincoln’s wagon was rolling by, I had moments when I wondered if the last four years — if all the years we have fought for freedom for the slaves — had all been in vain.”
“Aunt Abby!”
Once again Aunt Abby raised her hand. “Just hear me out. Lincoln may be gone, but we’re all still here. President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation and passed the bill to abolish slavery, but it took thousands of us to bring it to that point. It was the work of thousands over the years that truly created freedom for the slaves. We are still here,” she repeated, her strong voice ringing out into the air.
Carrie felt the passion in her words and realized the truth in what she said.
“I made a promise to the president as his body rolled past the balcony. I promised him that everything will not be in vain. Lincoln gave his all to hold this great country together. He gave his all to grant freedom to millions of slaves. It will not be in vain. He may be gone, but there are others of us who will take up the mantle and carry on. We will not let the last four years be for nothing.”
Carrie took a deep breath, the older woman’s words piercing her heart. She nodded and reached for her hand. “What is your plan?” she asked quietly, already knowing there was one.
Aunt Abby smiled, squeezing her hand. “I knew you would understand,” she said gladly. The carriage made a turn and joined the stream passing the burned out buildings. She nodded at one of them as they passed. “That used to be the First Bank of Richmond.”
“Yes,” Carrie murmured, staring at the blackened rubble that was all that remained of the three-story brick building. “All the banks of Richmond burned.”
“Yes, they did,” Aunt Abby said, “and lots of now useless Confederate money went up with it.”
Carrie nodded again, confusion showing on her face.
Aunt Abby smiled. “I met with some colleagues from Philadelphia when I was in DC. They are stepping forward to make investments to open another bank so Richmond can begin to get back on its feet.” She paused. “I have become an investor as well.”
Carrie stared at her. “You’ve invested in a bank?” She looked at Aunt Abby more closely. “I’ve just realized we have never talked about your business interests. They didn’t seem important at the time, but now I find I’m wondering just how much my dear Aunt Abby is worth.”
Aunt Abby merely smiled. “Enough,” she said simply. “It’s imperative that Richmond get back on its feet. That won’t happen unless there is a bank with money to lend to those who want to start rebuilding.”
“Why?” Carrie asked. “Other than my personal interest because I love this city so much, why is it important enough for Northern investors to make sure we have a bank to help finance rebuilding?” She was quickly realizing how little she knew about business. When Aunt Abby nodded briskly, Carrie caught a glimpse of the woman who stood agai
nst a multitude of men to protect her deceased husband’s business.
“Before the war, Richmond represented the most advanced economic development in the South. It’s a center for transportation to the rest of the South. It was a manufacturing center that processed regionally available materials. There were industries here from barrel-making to building construction. In the decade before the war, Richmond’s factory workforce grew by five hundred eighty-one percent.”
“Really?” Even with her limited understanding of business, Carrie understood that was a lot.
Aunt Abby nodded. “It will take the South getting back on its feet to provide jobs not just to freed slaves, but to all the veterans struggling to create a new life. I can help.”
Carrie continued to stare at her, not sure how all this fit with being sure the fight to end slavery had not been in vain. “I see…” she murmured, feeling totally out of her comfort zone. If Aunt Abby had come back and wanted to talk about new surgical procedures, she could have conversed with intelligence. As it was, she merely felt inadequate, though she was mesmerized by the shining passion in Aunt Abby’s eyes.
Aunt Abby suddenly laughed. “I see I’m not being clear, my dear.”
“Or perhaps I’m just too dense to understand,” Carrie protested.
Aunt Abby snorted. “That is certainly not the case.”
Spencer suddenly spoke up from the driver’s seat. “You’s plannin’ on opening up a factory to give jobs to black folks. But not just any job,” he continued. “You’s plannin’ on paying them what they really be worth.”
Aunt Abby beamed. “That’s correct!”
Carrie mulled over what Spencer had said. “You’re concerned that other people rebuilding in Richmond won’t be fair to the freed slaves. You are afraid they will take advantage of them and try to keep them in the same slavery mode by paying them little and treating them badly.”
Aunt Abby nodded solemnly. “That’s exactly right.”
“Why are you so concerned?” Carrie asked. “What did you learn in Washington?”
Aunt Abby frowned as she gazed into her eyes. “You may not know business, but you certainly know how to read me, my dear.” She sat back with a heavy sigh. “Yes, I learned a lot while I was in Washington. The government knew it was time for the slaves to be free, but I’m afraid no one has carefully thought through a plan for just how they can become equal citizens — especially those who remain in the South.”
“Just cause we be free don’t mean people done changed how they think ‘bout us,” Spencer drawled, his flashing eyes betraying his calm voice.
Carrie thought about the resentment and hatred she had seen shining from Richmonders’ eyes just that morning.
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Aunt Abby said sadly. “I believe there are already plans in the works here in the South to control the freed slaves in much the same way slavery did.”
“And it will take all of us to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Carrie said softly. “I understand.” She straightened her shoulders. “What kind of factory are you going to open?”
“A clothing factory,” Aunt Abby said promptly. “I have already purchased the property down by the river where three warehouses stood before they burned. I’ll be hiring men to clean away the rubble and then I’ll have some equipment sent down from Philadelphia. It will take time to get ready for production, but I think it will move quickly. Everyone is eager to see Richmond recover from this disaster and the years of the war.”
Carrie gasped. “You certainly move quickly.” Suddenly she laughed.
“Why are you laughing, my dear?”
“I’ve never seen the business side of you before,” Carrie admitted. She laughed harder. “I almost feel sorry for those men who tried to intimidate and threaten you out of business. I’m sure they had no idea what they were up against.”
Aunt Abby joined in her laughter. “Sometimes it’s best for men to believe women are weak. That way you can sneak around them and catch them completely unprepared with your brilliance and scheming.”
Spencer snorted with laughter while peals of merriment rang out from the two women. They were still laughing when the carriage rolled up in front of the house. Rose and Moses were waiting on the porch, little John bouncing with excitement in his daddy’s arms.
The aroma of fried chicken mingled with some kind of cake baking, rolled out from the front door.
Aunt Abby turned and wrapped Carrie in an embrace. “It’s so good to be home,” she whispered. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to feel I have a family to return to.”
Carrie gazed after her as she jumped from the carriage to run up the stairs and greet Rose and Moses.
“That be one fine woman,” Spencer observed, his eyes shining with admiration.
“That she is,” Carrie murmured, her heart pounding with the gratitude that they were all together. It still seemed surreal at times.
“She gonna have a hard time down here,” Spencer said carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“The white men down here in Richmond ain’t gonna take kindly to a woman with a heart for black folks.”
“She already knows that,” Carrie assured him. “We’ve talked about what I went through during the war.”
Spencer nodded, opened his mouth, and then shut it again.
“Go ahead, Spencer,” Carrie encouraged him. “What do you want to say?”
Spencer shrugged his wide shoulders. “They sho ‘nuff hated you takin’ care of the sick black folks,” he agreed, “but Miss Abby comin’ down here to give jobs to people they figure still be slaves is gonna be somethin’ else.” He stared up at the porch with worried eyes. “I sho hope she smart enough to be real careful.”
Carrie stared up at Aunt Abby laughing as John bounced in her arms. She tried to push down the uneasiness that suddenly gripped her throat. She had a sudden sense that all of them were going to have to be careful.
Chapter Six
Carrie was just coming in from the garden with a brimming basket of greens when Aunt Abby came into the kitchen. “Does Robert need me?” she asked quickly.
Aunt Abby shook her head. “I read to him for a while, and then he drifted off to sleep after he had some soup.”
“Did he say anything?” Carrie asked hopefully, though she was almost sure of the answer. Robert had done nothing but nod or shake his head since Aunt Abby had arrived three days ago.
“No,” Aunt Abby said softly, her eyes radiating compassion. “I can sense he is feeling and thinking things, but he just doesn’t seem to have the energy to put anything into words.”
Carrie nodded, doing her best to hold on to hope. Sometimes she thought she saw a spark of life in Robert’s eyes, but mostly he just stared dully, or simply escaped into a world of sleep.
“Are the nightmares still as bad?” Aunt Abby asked.
“Yes,” Carrie admitted. “That’s the only time he speaks. He mumbles about blood and death and watching people be blown up.” She shuddered. “Even after treating all the soldiers and seeing for myself how horrible the wounds were, at least I didn’t have to watch them being blown up or shot. I only dealt with the aftermath.”
Aunt Abby nodded thoughtfully. “None of us, except Moses of course, can possibly understand what he has been through. He hung on until there was nothing within him to hold on with.”
Carrie swallowed back her tears and placed the basket on the long counter. “I am trying to believe there is enough left in him to come back.”
Aunt Abby stepped forward and gripped her hands. “You keep on believing, Carrie. Your belief will get through to him.” She paused and chose her words carefully. “I sense there is a part of him that wants to keep living. I believe it’s the part that loves you so much. He wants to come back to you. He simply doesn’t know how.”
“And I don’t know how to help him,” Carrie groaned. “I’ve tried every herbal remedy Old Sarah ever told me about. Nothing seems to be workin
g.”
Aunt Abby smiled gently. “I don’t believe it’s a problem that can be treated with an herbal remedy. He’s dealing with a problem of the soul. The death and suffering he has seen has almost destroyed his will to live. Yet there is something in him that is reaching for the light of your love for him. Just love him,” she said tenderly. “That is what he needs most.”
Carrie’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “I love him so much, but what if I don’t show him in the right way? What if I don’t communicate it in a way he can hear? What if I’m the reason he dies?” Her voice broke as her shoulders slumped.
Aunt Abby wrapped her close and stroked her hair. “Nonsense, Carrie. You are the most loving person I know. You are pouring such amazing love into him, but…”
Carrie leaned back when she hesitated. “But what?”
“But it’s still up to Robert. No one can make us do, or not do, anything. Every action we take is a matter of our own will,” she said firmly but kindly. “If Robert gives up, it won’t be because you didn’t love him in the right way. It will be because he makes a decision, deep within his soul, that he is too afraid of the light to leave the darkness.”
Carrie groaned. “He’s been through so much the last five years. He has changed so much and overcome so many challenges. It’s just not fair that he has to go through this now.”
May stepped forward then. “Ain’t nothin’ bout life fair, Miss Carrie. I done lost my man and my fine babies ‘bout twenty years ago when my master sold me to someone else here in Richmond.”
Carrie gasped. “I didn’t know that, May! You never told me.”
“No. I didn’t reckon there be any need to. Ain’t nobody can change the past. I learned a long time ago that all I could do was live my life right now. I could let the bitterness and regret eat me up, or I could choose to live. I reckon I chose to live. It weren’t no easy decision, but it was the right one.” She took a breath and continued. “I saw a bunch o’ people make a diff’rent decision. I saw some of them people waste away with a broken heart ‘til they were mostly dead themselves.”