by Simon Rumney
Julii understood that, in light of such heavy traffic, riding a single horse would have been easier and faster, but she had a young family to bring back from Atlanta. So she used the time to pour over every map ever drawn of Georgia in order to plan an alternate route that was suitable for a carriage.
She was now driving Count Anton's carriage rapidly along almost-deserted back roads and farm roads, many of which had been forgotten and unused for many years. As she gently whipped her horses on, it gave Julii pleasure to know she still had all of those maps in her possession to hand over to the Yankees.
Before entering Atlanta, Julii stopped her carriage by a tall and distinctive tree. There, under the branches, she dug a shallow hole and, as a precaution against the white man's “double-dealing”, she cautiously buried a leather folder full of all the logistical information needed to bring the next stage of her plan to fruition.
From the moment she entered Atlanta, nothing went as planned. A defeated city was something Julii had read about, so she was prepared to witness chaos as she entered Atlanta, but the reckless abandon of the occupying men and the ruthless pleasure they drew from their wanton destruction of property came as a shock. Being dragged from the carriage at gun point also came as a shock.
It took Julii a terrifying hour to convince a wild Sergeant, then a lust filled Captain, then a condescending Colonel that she had an appointment with their general. She was in no doubt that repeating the name 'General Sherman' over and over again was the only thing that had sewn just enough doubt in these victorious soldier's minds to prevent them from raping her.
When she was eventually taken to meet General Sherman Julii was glad of taking precautions because that strange internal emotion that felt impossibly like experience told her General Sherman was not a man to be trusted. It felt as though she had dealt with this man somewhere and sometime before but that was impossible so she got down to business but even this did not go as planned.
It took her a further hour to convince the craggy-faced General Sherman that she was someone worth wasting his precious time talking to. He simply had a real problem believing Julii was the 'R' who came up with all of what he referred to as "These 'jim-dandy' plans."
His level of disbelief was so great, he even asked Julii to quote specific sections from her letters to the Union War Office. When she answered correctly, he was amazed. A typical man, he simply could not believe a mere woman could be so adept in the ways of war.
Of course Julii was deeply offended by his misogynistic attitude, but she was used to dealing with “southern gentlemen”. She had spent the last year turning powerful men's scorn to her advantage and expected to do the same with General Sherman, but when he simply didn't want to know anything about who or what the “R” in the letter actually represented, she lost her temper.
The whole point of everything she had done was to avenge the unfair murder of her Robert, but the brash General Sherman rudely interrupted her well-rehearsed and deeply moving explanation with the words, "Yeah, sure, Robert, got it. But why's a nigger like this Paul of any consequence to a southern lady like you?"
The meeting was not going at all how Julii had imagined it. An hour had been wasted proving her credentials. Now another frustrating hour went by as Julii tried to explain Paul's critical importance to the success of the next stage of her plan.
General Sherman became more and more evasive as he tried to convince Julii that Paul's involvement was irrelevant until Julii lost her temper again and shouted, "Where is the man who brought you my plan? Where is Paul?"
Julii could see by his silent expression that something about Paul's location had placed General Sherman in some kind of corner. She began pumping him for the truth. Unused to being spoken to like this by anyone, let alone a southern woman, the general tried bluster then feigned outrage. Only when he eventually ran out of ways to avoid answering her question did Julii receive an answer, but it was an answer she was not expecting to hear. "The nigger who delivered your letter is condemned to hang this afternoon."
Then, as though he had just told Julii nothing more exciting than the time of day, he added, "I still can't believe you came up with all of this."
In all of her imagined meetings with General Sherman, this had never been close to any of her scenarios. Julii was speechless. She watched him bite the end from his cigar, then simultaneously spit out tobacco and words. "You must understand, my dear lady. I am fully aware of your instructions to save him, but your nigger killed a Union captain."
General Sherman then stood and beckoned for Julii to follow him. Julii was completely unprepared for this. In total shock, she watched General Sherman exit the building. When she eventually followed him out onto the sidewalk, she could see the general walking a few paces ahead talking to his staff officers as though she did not exist.
It was in that moment Julii understood why she had been delayed in the room talking nonsense with the general. Blue coat soldiers had torn Count Anton's carriage apart. The upholstered seats, both base and back, were lying on the ground. The beautifully-studded leather had been slashed open and the fluffy white cotton stuffing lay all around. The subtly decorated silk lining had been ripped from inside the doors and the walls and the ceiling. Even the driver's seat had been broken apart.
As General Sherman passed, one of the blue-coated soldiers looked at him and shook his head 'no' to indicate that nothing had been found.
Trying to catch General Sherman, Julii stumbled on her petticoat and almost fell. She could not believe what was happening. The way she was being treated was exactly like her first day in Atlanta under Confederate control. Those old memories of fear and pain suddenly began welling up inside her. They were made worse by the building General Sherman chose to walk into.
Julii could hardly believe this most evil man had entered the place where she had experienced the full force of white man's rejection for the very first time. Fighting the urge to turn and run for her life, she burst through the door of Robert's parents' home and shouted, "If Paul dies you will never receive the most important part of my plan!"
It seemed as though every Union officer in existence was now staring back at Julii, and it also seemed as though they all thought she was mad. The whole house had been converted to a war room and maps hung on every wall and lay on every table. Julii was quietly delighted to see their boots were filthy and the hated red carpet was pretty much ruined, but that minor moment of evil pleasure did nothing to improve her helpless situation.
General Sherman beckoned, condescendingly, for Julii to join him and his officers at the map-covered table. He spoke to his men in the most patronizing tone. "Let's see if a woman is really capable of making such a plan, shall we?"
Now Julii really wanted to turn and run. She no longer wanted to help these men win the war. She wanted these smug, horrible, arrogant northern men to fight the cruel men of the South for the rest of their despicable lives. She hated them all. She wanted nothing more to do with any of them, but she needed to save Paul and Matilda and little Julii. So she walked to the table and said softly, "My plan will win this war within the year. Are the lives of your men it saves worth the life of one nigger?"
All of the Union officers looked skeptical. None of them cared what Julii thought or did but, as she spoke, the officers at the table changed from arrogant to curious to impressed. They all agreed with her observations and positively salivated at the thought of being able to reach Savannah without the need for over-extended supply lines.
They all understood Julii's detailed plan meant Sherman's entire army would be able to live off of the resources of the South. The resources only Julii's buried information would let them find. She ended her presentation with the words, "If Paul and his family are not delivered to me immediately, the information required to achieve this plan will be destroyed."
Julii's words now shifted the problem of Paul's state of well-being from her to General Sherman. All of his general staff officers were now looking to
him for a decision. To a man they believed it a simple decision because they all craved her logistical information, but the general was not so clear.
"There is a principle here" was how he phrased it. "Do we let a nigger kill a Union officer and get away with it? What about our president's new all nigger regiments? What kind of precedent are we setting here? In what dangers are we placing our fellow white officers who command those nigger regiments, gentlemen?"
"Can anyone here tell me what actually happened?"
Julii's angry shouted words dragged every Union officer's attention back to her. They were all silent so she asked them a clearer question. "If Paul did actually kill your captain, why did he do it?"
She looked into each man's silent face one by one and said, "I know this man. He is not a man who kills without provocation. I am sure there are mitigating circumstances."
They all had that same expression on their faces, that typical “Confederate expression” that said, “If a nigger kills a white man, who cares why he did it?”
General Sherman broke the silence by asking his general staff, "Do we know what happened?"
Julii was amazed. General Sherman had condemned a human being to death without even knowing the full details of his crime. She was about to scream angry words when one younger officer stepped from the pack and snapped to attention. "I was on the escort detail, sir."
"Good. Tell us what happened, son."
General Sherman sounded proud of the young officer. Just like a southerner, he hated niggers, but he sure did like his men.
The young officer's answer was efficient and business-like. He sounded like a man giving a report on the health of some random herd of livestock as he said, "The captain did not want to give up the nigger woman, sir. Claimed he loved her."
The young man paused to let the mumbles of shock and disapproval pass before he continued. "Said if he couldn't have her, no one could. Ran her through with his saber, General."
Julii became faint. She looked around for a seat. One of the young officers observed her body language and moved a chair behind her as she fell.
In disbelief, Julii heard the young officer continue his emotionless report as though nothing important was being said. "He was about to run the child through when the nigger killed him with his bare hands. Took five of my men to pull him off the captain. By that time he was dead, General. Broke his neck. May I say, I am deeply sorry for the loss of Captain Bush, sir."
General Sherman touched the young officer sympathetically on the shoulder. His reply was edged with empathy but not for Paul or his wife or his innocent child. "Not your fault, Captain. He's a big buck nigger, that one."
"You all disgust me!"
Julii's words came out in a shout of anger and venom. "What would any of you pompous men have done to a man who murdered your wife? You call yourself gentlemen but you are not gentlemen. You are inhuman monsters! North and South! You are all the same!"
General Sherman turned to Julii with a look of disbelief. He sounded confused. "Why the hell does a southern woman care so much about one buck nigger? Your lot treat them worse than we do!"
'My lot?' Julii had to calm down and remind herself who she was now. The last time she had been in this house she had been an “Injun”. Now she was a southern white lady and that was the only advantage she had, so she forced herself to ask a question that a southern white lady would ask. "Are you not fighting for this nigger and all of the other slave niggers?"
Julii stood and walked close to the general. "Isn't the whole point of this war to liberate the slaves in the South?"
General Sherman lost his temper for the first time and it broke like a storm as he raised his voice. "I would not risk even one of my boys for the freedom of a million niggers! This war is not about freeing niggers! This war is about the Union. This war is about the unity of our nation, Madame! Do not sully our glorious campaign, in which many thousands of good white men have so bravely given their lives, with talk of freeing niggers! Now, wait outside while I make my decision."
Murder
Julii had never felt more helpless as she waited outside for the Union officers to discuss Paul's continued life or sudden violent death. She harbored absolutely no doubt they all really wanted to kill him, but she also knew they desperately wanted her information.
Much pacing and fretting and staring at blue soldiers who stared back at her was followed by more pacing and fretting and staring. When she was called back into the war room, General Sherman had the temerity to say, "Although it sends completely the wrong message to free a nigger who murders a Union officer, we are all in agreement. Your nigger will be pardoned upon receipt of your information."
General Sherman was speaking as though he was doing Julii some kind of favor, but she found no relief or pleasure in his decision. She would never trust the word of any American white man ever again, North or South. She was on the verge of rudely demonstrating her distrust by telling General Sherman he would have to hand her friend over before she would even consider retrieving her hidden information, when Paul was marched into the room.
His face was badly beaten and his body bore the marks of the lash. Julii walked to Paul and held him. Her touch made him flinch and she recoiled to avoid causing him more pain. "What happened?" was all she could think to ask.
Looking through his one open eye, Paul tried to speak, but his rasping voice was caught in a dry mouth and throat. Julii looked around the room for water. Finding a jug, she picked it up and held it as he drank. She stared down the looks of disgust from the Union officers who disproved of a nigger drinking from their jug. When he tried to speak again, Paul's voice sounded desperate but clearer. "That Yankee captain killed Matilda."
Even in his physical agony, even after all the brutal injustice, even in the face of imminent execution, his greatest source of pain was the loss of Matilda.
Julii fought against the tears welling in her eyes. She would not let them fall. These disgusting blue men would see them as a sign of weakness and not the unadulterated anger welling inside her. She wanted to be rid of all blue men, gray men, and white men. Every instinct she had was telling her to leave, but there was one last thing that had to be asked. "Where is the child?"
General Sherman turned to the young captain, whose report had explained Matilda's brutal murder so succinctly, and asked in the tone one would use to find a misplaced cigar, "Where is the nigger child?"
The captain sounded confused. "It's got to be here in Atlanta somewhere, sir. We brought it back with this here nigger."
This was just too much for Julii. Leading Paul from the house, she looked over her shoulder and snarled at General Sherman. "You want the information? You'd better find that baby alive and well!"
At a single nod from General Sherman, young officers streamed out of the house and past Julii as she helped Paul walk along the sidewalk. The young officers ran to every house and shouted orders to every blue soldier billeted inside. Soon, hundreds of blue-coated men were running around Atlanta looking for the baby nigger called Julii.
Sitting in what was left of Count Anton's carriage, Julii had Paul washed and bandaged by the time little Julii was found. She had been sleeping, in her little wicker basket, undisturbed in exactly the same place Paul had put her upon arriving in Atlanta.
One of the general staff carried the basket to the carriage. Once the baby was inside the carriage with Paul, Julii climbed up and took the reins. Looking down at General Sherman, she spoke with contempt. "The information you seek is buried under a tall tree. Send a single rider to me when I am ten miles outside Atlanta and I will tell him which tree. Good day to you, General."
Beating the horses into action, she made them pull the carriage to the left. Unable to make the U-turn in one go, she made the horses back up and turn again. Hundreds of blue soldiers lined the street watching Julii thrash the horses. She hated hurting them but, on this occasion, fear overcame compassion.
The end of Atlanta was frustratingly i
n sight. The exit she had escaped from on the day of the riot was just a few blocks away, but she was shaking and the turn was taking so long. Julii heard one of the many watching blue soldiers shout something to his commanding officer, but she was too busy to pay attention to his words.
She then heard the commanding officer shout something across the street to General Sherman that sounded like, "This sentry reports he saw the woman burying something this morning, General!"
Understanding the implications of what had just been said, Julii thrashed at the horses. She tried to make them mount the sidewalk to complete the turn, but fear of the blue men and years of conditioning prevented them from doing it.
General Sherman's rapid hand signal had Julii's carriage surrounded and stopped in an instant. She whipped as many blue men as she could reach, but she knew it was futile. She could do nothing but watch as the general beckoned the soldier and his commanding officer over to him. The soldier stood to attention, saluted, said something Julii could not hear, and pointed directly at her.
General Sherman smiled at the soldier like a proud father to his son. At the top of his voice, the general shouted: "This man has done the Union a great service! This man has performed his picket duty with distinction!"
Interrupting the general, the soldier said something Julii could not hear. She watched General Sherman's expression of pride and pleasure turn to dark anger. His voice boomed down the street. "Where is your sergeant?"
From across the street came a sergeant with a red face and fear in his eyes. Sprinting across the street, the sergeant came to attention and saluted the general. Julii's heart sank when she saw her dirt-covered leather folder held in his left hand. Totally helpless, she watched her only chance of saving Paul's life being handed to his executioner.