“The general is concerned about his father, Tom,” Chamberlain said, in a slightly annoyed tone. “Were his wounds life-threatening?”
“Oh, no,” the lieutenant replied, shaking his head. “He got stuck a bunch of times, but they weren’t all that deep. He was only armed with a sword. Nobody wanted to kill him because he was so brave, and an old man and all, but he wouldn’t surrender. Finally that fat kid from the Second Maine sat on him.”
Paul nodded. “Do you know where he was taken, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir. We turned him over to General Hancock’s staff.”
“Thank you.” Paul saluted, then led his horse out from under the tree and mounted.
“General?” Thomas Chamberlain ran out to catch Paul. “Do you know where we’re going now, sir?”
“Not exactly. You’ll probably shadow Lee’s army, keeping between him and Washington. Our cavalry will be somewhere ahead of you, trying to impede his progress.”
“Will there be a major engagement, sir?”
“Unless we can stop Lee and hold him until the infantry catches up like we did here, I doubt it.”
“Thank you, sir. Good luck.”
“And to you, Lieutenant.”
July 4, 1863
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
The last stroke of midnight mingled with the patter of falling rain. Lightning flashed behind the horizon. Rolling thunder echoed off the distant hills. For three days, the sleepy hamlet of Gettysburg had been a battlefield. Before the war came here, this field had been waist high in ripe, golden rye. Now it was a black-and-gray, hellish panorama of burned grain, dead men and dead horses.
The only living humans in the field were two adolescent boys who were busy looting the corpses – and General Jack Van Buskirk. “Help me, please,” Jack groaned as the smaller of the two boys began to search through his pockets.
“Jesus Christ.” The boy scrambled back away from Jack. “This one’s alive, Bobby.”
“Hush up, Caleb.” The other boy hurried to join Caleb. “You wanna wake the whole town?”
“Look at him, Bobby.” The boy pointed at the dark shape on the ground. “His face is gone.”
“Please help me,” Jack croaked. “I’m pinned under my horse.”
Caleb took a step toward Jack but Bobby caught his arm. “If we help him he’s gonna tell that we’ve been robbin’ the dead.”
“No I won’t,” Jack said. “Help me get up and I’ll just walk away. I won’t talk to anyone.”
Caleb pulled his arm free from Bobby’s grip. “You don’t look like you could walk very far, Mister.”
“What do you care?” Jack asked. “As long as I don’t tell anyone about you. And I swear that I won’t. You have my oath.”
“You can’t trust him, Caleb,” Bobby warned.
“Yes you can, Caleb,” Jack said. “I’m a general by order of the Congress of the United States. If the United States Congress trusts me, you can too.”
“Okay.” Caleb sat down in the mud, braced himself on his elbows and put his feet against the horse’s carcass. “Come on, Bobby. Push with me.”
Bobby hesitated for a moment, then positioned himself on the other side of Jack. “On three. One, two three.”
With a grunt, Jack extracted his leg. “Thank you,” he panted.
Caleb got up and squinted at Jack through the rain. “You’re bad burned, Mister. Real bad.”
Jack nodded. “Only my face. I can walk.” With a groan, he managed to stand, then limped across the ashes toward the flooding stream.
“Where are you goin’?” Caleb called after him.
“New Jersey.” Jack waded into the churning flood. Moments later, he was gone and the boys went back to their grisly treasure hunt.
July 5, 1863
Washington, D.C.
Elizabeth Keckly smiled at Anna. “There’s nothing to tell you, Mrs. Lagrange. The White House Levees are only held in the winter when Congress is in session.”
“That’s what I was told, but Mrs. Lincoln said specifically that she wanted me to take them over immediately, so I thought that perhaps there was some other levee that I wasn’t aware of. You see, I’ve never been invited to any White House functions in the Lincoln administration because Mrs. Lincoln dislikes me so.”
“She doesn’t dislike you, Mrs. Lagrange. Mrs. Lincoln is a very jealous woman and you were spending more time with the President than she was.”
Anna decided not to respond to that. “Have you any idea what she wants of me? I mean, if there are no summertime levees, what could it be?”
“She was seriously injured in the carriage accident. I suspect that she had the date confused.”
“Oh. I wonder if I’ll be persona-non-grata again when she gets her wits about her.”
“Mrs. Lincoln had intended to mend fences with you before the accident, Mrs. Lagrange. She keeps lists of things that she wants to do. No, that’s wrong. She keeps lists of things that she must do. Her meeting with you was on her list and she wasn’t about to let a gash on her head stop her. She’s a very driven woman.”
“Really? I would have never suspected that of her.”
Mrs. Keckly hesitated. “When I was a girl I was loaned to a man who behaved very similarly to Mrs. Lincoln.” She saw the bewilderment on Anna’s face. “A master can loan a slave just like he can loan a horse or a mule,” she explained.
“Oh,” Anna said in a strangled voice. “Oh dear Lord. I understand. I wish I didn’t. That is…” Anna took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please go on. You were saying about the man that you were loaned to?”
“Yes. Well, some days the man was very kind to me and others he flogged me mercilessly. After the floggings, he’d weep and become nearly suicidal in his repentance. Mrs. Lincoln has good days and bad days. On her worst days she often loses her temper or weeps inconsolably.”
“Does she use opium?”
Mrs. Keckly didn’t answer.
“It might explain the mood swings,” Anna suggested.
“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Keckly thought a moment before answering. “My understanding is that she’s had these mood swings her whole life.”
“Does she use opium?” Anna repeated.
“She takes laudanum to calm her stomach, but it’s under her doctor’s supervision.”
“Does the President know?”
“Yes. That is – I think so. If you intend to discuss this with him, please don’t mention that I told you.”
“Of course not.” Anna got to her feet. “I’ve taken up too much of your time. Thank you, Mrs. Keckly.”
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you. May I ask who makes your clothes?”
“For years it was Laura Haggerty in New York, but recently I’ve bought several dresses from Macy’s Dry Goods. They have a dressmaking factory on the premises and it only takes an hour.” She shrugged. “They’re very inexpensive and surprisingly well made too. Buying one’s clothes from Macy’s is considered common and gauche, of course, but I don’t care about that. I can buy several machine-made dresses, in the latest fashion, for the price of one hand-made dress.”
Mrs. Keckly nodded. “Machines will soon be replacing us all, I’m afraid.”
“That’s what my sister-in-law predicts.”
“You’re speaking of your sister-in-law Mrs. Nancy Vreeland Van Buskirk?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Do you know her?”
“No, I’ve not had the pleasure.” Mrs. Keckly hesitated. “I think Mrs. Van Buskirk might have some influence with New York politics.”
“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”
“As you may know there’s a great deal of unrest in New York.”
“You mean the protests about the military draft?”
“Yes. The working-class men resent the fact that the wealthy can buy their way out of compulsory service for three hundred dollars.”
Anna looked confused. “I’m not following you, Mrs. Keckly. What has that to do with Nancy?”
“Oh dear. I dare say that I’m not being very clear.” She took a breath and started again. “It isn’t widely publicized, but the protesters are claiming that the free colored in New York are taking all the available jobs. We’ve had reports of attacks on colored people, and we’ve been told that the police are turning a blind eye to them. In fact they may even be participating. I thought perhaps that your sister-in-law…”
“Ah, yes, yes. Now I see. Of course, I’ll talk to Nancy about it. I’m not sure if she can help, but I know she’ll try.”
“The first drawing of the draft is in about a week. The eleventh, I think. That’s when things are likely to get ugly.”
“I’m sure Nancy will be able to visit New York before then.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Keckly. Please call on me any time.” She gave the woman her card. “Good day.”
“Yes. Yes. Good day, Mrs. Lagrange.”
~
“Well, I’m off the hook for the levees,” Anna said. “Apparently Mrs. Lincoln was befuddled by the bump on her head and didn’t realize that it’s summertime when Congress is in recess and no levees are scheduled.”
“Oh,” Nancy replied. “I thought she must have meant the periodic levees that they hold for visiting dignitaries.”
“Periodic levees?”
“Yes. They hold them all year around, whenever the need arises.”
“Damn. I’ll bet you’re right. Why didn’t Elizabeth Keckly suggest that?”
“She may not have known. I think you’d be better off talking to the regular White House staff. Someone has to coordinate menus and staffing and arrange the Blue Room schedule. It’s certainly not Mrs. Lincoln or Mrs. Keckly.”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re right. The problem is that, in the two years I’ve been working for the President, I’ve made no effort to meet anyone.”
“It’s never too late to make new friends,” Nancy teased.
“Oh. Speaking of friends – Mrs. Keckly wanted me to ask you about your influence with New York politics.”
“My influence?” Nancy looked surprised.
“Your family’s influence.”
“In the City?”
“Yes.”
“Your family has more influence than mine.”
“You must have forgotten that I’m the black sheep and not on speaking terms with that branch of the family. Besides, Mrs. Keckly didn’t ask me for my family’s help, she asked me to ask you for your family’s help. She must have had a reason.”
“Well, I can’t think what that might be.”
“Isn’t Horatio Seymour related to your mother by marriage?”
Nancy nodded her head. “Yes, he’s my uncle.”
“He’s also the governor.”
“Yes, of the State of New York, but New York City’s run from Tammany Hall, not Albany, Anna.”
“Mrs. Keckly’s concerned that the draft drawing on the eleventh might result in a violent backlash against colored people.”
“My uncle’s of the opinion that the Conscription Act is unconstitutional,” Nancy said. “He might very well join the protests himself.”
“Oh hell. In that case, I suppose I’ll have to go.”
“Go where?”
“New York.”
“To do what?”
“To talk to the Police Superintendent and see if he’s making an effort to protect the colored citizens from harm.”
“John Kennedy’s a politician. He’ll tell you what you want to hear.”
“You know him?”
“Yes. Not very well.”
“Well enough to introduce me?”
“Why are you doing this, Anna?”
“Because I promised Elizabeth Keckly that I would.”
Nancy sighed. “Okay. I’ll go. I don’t know what good I can do, but I’ll go so that you can keep your promise to Mrs. Keckly.”
“Great. I’ll go with you.”
“No. You’re too abrasive.”
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or slap you,” Anna chuckled.
“You can decide when we see what results I can get for Mrs. Keckly’s cause.”
“Would it be okay if I went with you to New York, but shopped while you save Mrs. Keckly’s cause?”
Nancy giggled. “You really know how to hurt me.”
July 6, 1863
Milliken’s Bend, Louisiana
As the transport maneuvered toward the mooring, Chrissy Van Buskirk tried to peer through the fog. “Do you see Quincy, Ginger?”
“No,” Ginger replied. “But I see my brother, Abe.” She pointed at a sergeant major that was standing with his arms folded on the dock.
“Uh-oh. He looks furious. Is it because Quincy married me?”
“No, no. He might disapprove of that, but what you and Quincy do is none of his business, and he knows it. He’s upset because I wrote and asked him not to tell anyone that I’m his sister.”
“Why in the world did you do that?”
Ginger looked at the girl. “Now why do you think?” she grumbled.
Chrissy made a face. “How should I know?”
“Look at him.” Ginger gestured toward Abe. “Look close. Do you see anything different about Abe and me?”
“Oh.” Chrissy raised her eyebrows. “Because he’s so dark and – oh – he didn’t know you were passing for white.”
“No. And he’s going to view it as a betrayal,” Ginger said. “He’s never quite forgiven my son, Samuel, for changing his name from Van Buskirk.”
“That’s just silly.”
“That’s just Abraham. He’s fiercely loyal to the Van Buskirk family. Old Thomas Van Buskirk, the Revolutionary War hero, practically raised him. Yank was his big brother.”
“What about your real fathers?”
“Our mother died giving birth to me and we never knew our father.”
“From the looks of you two, I’d bet that you had different fathers.”
Ginger shook her head. “Our grandmother said that he was the same man.” She bent down to pick up her bag as the steamboat bumped the dock and the gangway was run out. “I guess there’s nothing else to do but face the dragon.”
Sergeant Major Abe Van Buskirk watched his sister and the girl as they joined the line of passengers to debark from the steamer. Ginger’s letter, informing him that she was passing for white, had come as a nasty shock. That seemed impossible when he’d read the letter. Now, looking at Ginger with the other white passengers, it seemed impossible that she could be colored. The same was true of the girl. If Ginger hadn’t mentioned in her letter that Quincy’s new wife was colored, he’d have never guessed. Ginger walked off the gangway and turned toward him. He could tell from the expression on her face that she was dreading their meeting and he decided to keep his criticism to himself. “Hello, Georgia.” He raised his hand.
“Should I kiss him or shake his hand?” Ginger murmured to Chrissy.
“Just introduce me. Surely he’s already had to explain how he shares a surname with several white generals.”
“Dear God. This is so unfair.”
“What’s unfair?” Abe asked as he reached them.
Ginger hesitated, looked at Chrissy for a moment, then shook her head. “Me living a lie has been very unfair to you.”
He ignored the remark. “You must be Chrissy.”
“Yes.” Chrissy gave him her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Major.”
“Where’s Quincy?” Ginger asked, looking around at the crowded dock.
“He was ordered to Kansas,” Abe said. “I’ll explain it all when I get you settled in the hotel.”
Ginger made a face. “All what? What’s happening?”
“Let me get your bags.”
Chrissy shook her head. “No. Please. Explain it now.”
“Yes,” Ginger urged. “Explain.”
“Is the army punishing Quincy for marrying me?” Chrissy asked.
Ab
e took a deep breath. “No. The army is saving you and Quincy from being put on trial as felons. Your marriage in Mississippi was illegal. It’s been expunged.”
“Expunged?” Chrissy looked stricken.
“Annulled,” Abe said. “More or less. When you get to Kansas you can…”
“So we’re not married now?” Chrissy gasped.
“See?” Abe said to Ginger. “This is why I wanted to explain later. It’s too complicated for a dockside conversation. Robert, General Sherman and General Grant have worked it all out. You have to trust me and them. Please. Let’s go to your hotel where I can lay out the details.”
“Yes. You’re right.” Ginger pointed back toward the transport. “Those are our bags.”
Abe signaled a private soldier and pointed out the baggage. “Everything’s going to be all right,” he said to the women. “I promise.”
Ginger nodded.
“That’s your carriage.” Abe pointed. “The driver will take you to your hotel. The rooms are reserved in your names and paid for. I’ll send your baggage on a wagon.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Ginger asked.
“I can’t. They don’t allow coloreds in the hotel, but I’ll sneak up the back stairs later.”
“We can stay in a colored hotel then,” Ginger said.
“No you can’t.” Abe chuckled. “You wouldn’t last five minutes with all those rats. Trust me.”
July 7, 1863
Waco, Texas
Jane Van Buskirk read the telegram from her sister-in-law Anna for the third time. The term “missing in action” meant nothing to her. She only wanted to know if her husband was dead or alive. If Tom was dead, she’d weep for a time, then sell everything and go home to New York. If Tom was alive, she’d go on waiting, just as she had been. Just as she always had. She’d spent her whole life waiting for something – but whatever she was waiting for, never came.
The back door opened and Prudence Johansen hurried in. “I saw the special delivery outside. Is it bad news?”
Jane nodded and gave the telegram to Prudence.
Nervously, Prudence unfolded the message and began to read. As a girl, Prudence had been captured by New Mexico Apaches. Several years later, Jack Van Buskirk had bought Prudence from the Apaches for the price of one hundred horses and when he went east to join the Union Army he had left her in Waco with Jane. Since then, Prudence and Jane had become best friends. “I don’t know what it means when it says that Thomas and Jack are missing in action,” she said.
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