Part 18 (1/2)

In the weeks that followed, Charles became part of a stampede of volunteers who lined up to enlist in the Confederate Army. Jonathan joined him in filling the ranks of Richmond's Light Infantry Blues. I drew a small measure of comfort from the fact that the two of them were together, watching out for each other. Jennings Wise, editor of the Enquirer Enquirer and son of our former governor, was named the Blues' captain. Jonathan's older brother, William, joined an artillery unit. and son of our former governor, was named the Blues' captain. Jonathan's older brother, William, joined an artillery unit.

Even as I watched my loved ones put on uniforms, take up arms, and train for battle, I clung to the irrational hope that it would all prove to be another false alarm like the p.a.w.nee p.a.w.nee incident. As the spring days quickly pa.s.sed, that hope grew more futile. incident. As the spring days quickly pa.s.sed, that hope grew more futile.

With the declaration of war, I could no longer receive letters from my cousins up north. I often thought about the two years I'd spent with them, and I couldn't help imagining all the young men I'd danced with in Philadelphia lining up to kill all the young men I knew in Richmond. Cousin Robert Hoffman would soon have his wish to fight in a war fulfilled. What disturbed me was that he might be fighting against Charles. I only wished I knew how- and when-this ugly conflict would end.

The Richmond I once knew changed rapidly during those early months of war, doubling in size within a matter of weeks. Refugees from Baltimore who were loyal to the South streamed into Virginia after Federal troops occupied their city. Hundreds of unfamiliar faces filled the streets as young men raced to the city to enlist. Colleges and schools were forced to close for lack of pupils and teachers. Young boys, turned away from the army because of their age, complained that the war would be over before they had a chance to fight. Every pa.s.senger train that pulled into one of Richmond's depots brought more soldiers, all of them eager for war. When a trainload of troops from South Carolina arrived, people from all over the city flocked to the station, cheering wildly for the heroes of Fort Sumter.

The young men who arrived to enlist came from all walks of life-laborers and lawyers, farmers and factory workers, miners and merchants. Sally would call out to them from her carriage window, asking where they were from. Their varied answers amazed me. ”Mississippi, ma'am . . . Texas . . . Florida . . . Missouri.” Seeing their enthusiasm, one might have guessed they were going to a picnic, not a war.

Army encampments soon sprawled in all directions around the city, with men bivouacked in places like Monroe Park and the fairgrounds where Charles and I had our disastrous first date. From the top of every hill, white tents were visible in the distance, dotting the landscape like mushrooms.

As the spring evenings warmed and lengthened, many of Richmond's ladies made it their habit to ride out to the fairgrounds after dinner to watch the evening dress parades. Sally was one of them. She coaxed me into coming with her to watch Charles and Jonathan drill. The central fairgrounds above the city had been transformed into a vast instruction camp where Colonel Smith and his young cadets from the Virginia Military Inst.i.tute drilled the new recruits. We saw gentlemen in top hats and frock coats drilling side by side with barefooted sharecroppers in muslin s.h.i.+rts. Suppliers simply couldn't keep up with the demand for uniforms and boots.

Those early days of parade drill often resembled a comedy routine. Inexperienced soldiers would mix up the commands, causing them to pivot in the wrong direction, march straight into each other, and even accidentally whack each other in the head with their rifles as they turned. Eventually everyone learned to form a column for long marches, to dress the line, and to form a line of battle in any direction. Once they'd mastered those commands, they were ready to be trained for larger tactical maneuvers. The men also had to learn the nine steps required to load and fire their weapons, although ammunition was too precious to waste on practice.

”I have something for you,” Sally said on one of our first trips to the fairgrounds. She leaned close to pin a rosette of palmetto leaves onto my lapel.

”What is that?”

”It's a secession badge. Everyone's wearing one. It's a symbol of patriotism for the Confederacy.”

The thought of it made me uneasy. I still considered myself an American, so it seemed disloyal to support the Confederacy. Yet when I thought of Charles going off to fight the enemy, American soldiers would be trying to kill him, American wars.h.i.+ps would be bombarding my home.

Sally didn't seem as bothered by divided loyalties as I was, nor did she notice my unease. As we sat on our folding stools near the edge of the field that evening, watching the maneuvers, she kept up a steady, patriotic monologue.

”Just look at all those wonderful, brave men. Aren't they courageous souls? When I see their bravery and determination it makes me so proud to be a Virginian. I want our men to know I'm behind them all the way. No sacrifice we're asked to make is too great for the cause. I'm willing to do whatever I can here on the home front to support them, aren't you, Caroline?”

She turned to me for my a.s.sent, but I didn't know what to say. Instead, I pointed vaguely toward the ranks of men and said, ”Are they the 'Blues'? Do you see Charles and Jonathan anywhere?”

”No, I don't think that's their unit.” Then she returned to her speech. ”The North will back down and leave us alone, you'll see. They're all cowards, afraid of a fight. Why, I read in the Richmond papers that they can hardly get anyone up there to volunteer-and even then it's only for ninety days. If they ever do attack us, we'll lick them in no time. Everybody knows Billy Yank won't fight. Besides, our cause is just.”

Sally talked very bravely, but I wondered how she-how I- would react if faced with another scare like p.a.w.nee Sunday. What would we do if the next threat was genuine?

One evening when Sally and I were at the parade grounds, she grew especially excited as she pointed to a tall, distinguishedlooking man with graying hair and beard watching from the sidelines. ”Look! That's Colonel Lee . . . I mean General General Lee! He's in command of all the Confederate forces in Virginia. Isn't he a good-looking man?” Lee! He's in command of all the Confederate forces in Virginia. Isn't he a good-looking man?”

Robert E. Lee was indeed a striking man. Tall and broad shouldered, probably in his mid-fifties, he had a handsome, wellproportioned face with calm, composed features. His military bearing was commanding and dignified, yet not cold or stern as many career military men sometimes were.

”I read in the news that Mr. Lincoln offered him the command of all the Union armies,” Sally said, ”but he refused.”

I had read that, too. Lee, the hero of Harper's Ferry, said he couldn't fight against his birthplace, his home, his family. Since he had graduated from West Point-had been the academy's superintendent, in fact-he would now be fighting against many of his former colleagues, friends, teachers, and even students like Robert. I sympathized with Colonel Lee's dilemma. People I loved lived in the North, too. But like Charles, Lee was determined to fight for the South. At least I could be thankful that Charles and Jonathan would be under Lee's capable leaders.h.i.+p.

By late spring, Tennessee, North Carolina, and Arkansas had joined Virginia and the other secessionists, bringing a total of eleven states into the Confederacy. The new government voted to move its capital from Montgomery, Alabama, to Richmond. We would be the ”Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.” of the South. I thought our city was already filled to capacity after the earlier influx of soldiers and refugees, but now it nearly burst its seams as politicians and government officials, along with their families, arrived from all the other Southern states. I couldn't imagine where we would put them all.

President Jefferson Davis arrived on May 29, moving into the Spotswood Hotel until his new executive mansion, not far from Charles' home, was ready for occupancy. The city celebrated his arrival in grand style, decorating the hotel and nearly every house in Court End with the Stars and Bars in his honor. They held a reception for him at the governor's mansion the following day. I accompanied Sally, her mother, and the rest of Richmond's fas.h.i.+onable ladies in greeting President Davis in the forenoon; the men's reception was in the afternoon.

”Wasn't that exciting?” Sally said as we made our way back to her house afterward. ”Think of it! We've met the president president!”

”He isn't much to look at,” Mrs. St. John said with a sniff.

”Well, neither is Mr. Lincoln, Mother,” Sally said. ”The point is, none of us except Charles has ever met a president before, and now here we are, living in the nation's capital!”

I had endured the reception as if it was just another dreary party, but as I listened to the two women talking, reality began to set in. Not only was I being forced to face a war I dreaded, but I also lived in the capital city of a new nation. Overnight, Richmond had become a symbol of the rebellion, and for the enemy, the ultimate prize of war. The familiar Stars and Stripes no longer flew from every flagpole. In fact, I no longer lived in the United States of America. The city around me might look familiar, but I now resided in a foreign land.

What worried me most was the fact that n.o.body I knew seemed to grieve over this loss the way I did. The man I loved was even willing to die for the right to create a new nation, fly a new flag. What was wrong with me that made me so different?

I continued my prayers each morning and night-or whenever fear began to strangle me-asking G.o.d to help me through whatever the day might bring. And as summer neared, routine life in Richmond quickly adopted a new rhythm. Our days began with the distant sounds of reveille and the rattle of drums, calling soldiers to duty; they ended with evening taps. Throughout the day, the sound of martial music and the tramp of marching feet served as background accompaniments to everything we did.

As soon as a company of soldiers was sufficiently drilled in military exercises, they would be transferred wherever the Confederacy needed them, defending one of the enemy's three possible invasion routes to Richmond. General Joseph Johnston and his forces were positioned in the Shenandoah Valley, guarding against a western attack. General Beauregard, hero of Fort Sumter, patrolled the northern approach and the rail route from Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. to Richmond. Colonel Magruder was in charge of the peninsula, keeping an eye on the Union troops who still held Fortress Monroe, less than seventy-five miles southeast of Richmond.

As the newly mobilized troops marched through the city toward their a.s.signments, the ladies of Richmond would send them on their way with cheers and blown kisses and fluttering handkerchiefs. Sally believed that it was our patriotic duty to support our men by joining in as many of these farewell marches as possible. She somehow found out where and when the men would be departing and made a determined effort to show up along the parade route, plowing forward in rain or s.h.i.+ne, towing me in her wake as if she was a mule and I was a barge on the Kanawha Ca.n.a.l.

I found it difficult not to weep as I watched young men, family men with small children, saying farewell to the people they loved, reluctantly releasing them from their arms after a final, lingering embrace, then marching from sight, full of resolve and determination. We all knew that many of the waving, cheering women would never see their departing soldiers again, and behind our smiles our hearts were as heavy as cannonb.a.l.l.s.

Inevitably the day came when Charles and Jonathan completed their training. The Richmond Blues entered into Confederate service as part of the First Virginia Infantry. On the day before they departed, Captain Wise granted Jonathan a short leave to visit Hilltop. Jonathan stopped by my house on his way there, so excited, so full of life and the l.u.s.t for adventure, that it was hard to imagine that anything terrible could happen to him. Wouldn't he always be this vibrantly alive?

”I've come to dance with you one last time before I go,” he announced, then he swept me into his arms and waltzed me around the foyer, singing ”I Dream of Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair.”

”See, my dear?” he said when he had whirled me into a state of dizzy laughter. ”We've always made great dancing partners, haven't we? Promise you'll write to me, Caroline. Promise me you won't waste all your ink on Private Charles St. John.”

”Of course I'll write to you. And I'll pester Sally every day to make sure she writes to you, too.”

”You are a sweetheart. Listen, I have to go-”

”Already? You just got here.”

”Sorry, but would you do me one more favor? Would you tell Josiah to be ready to leave by the time I get back from Hilltop tonight? He's coming with me.”

”Wait a minute. Coming with you . . . where?” I was confused. Josiah had been living here in town with us while Jonathan trained. Tessie had been dreading the day when the training ended and Josiah would be sent back to Hilltop. ”Isn't Josiah going home to the plantation with you?”

”No, I've decided to take him off to war with me. My unit is going north to establish defensive positions along the Was.h.i.+ngton rail routes. We could use a good, strong set of muscles to dig entrenchments.”

The absurdity of his plan infuriated me. ”You're fighting for the right to keep Josiah a slave-and you have the nerve to ask him to help help you?” you?”

”Calm down, my dear little abolitionist,” he said, taking my hands. ”Yes, I finally read your pamphlet, so I know you're one of those those.” He grinned, as if it were all a merry joke. ”Josiah won't be fighting in any battles. He'll be quite safe behind our lines-which is more than I can say for yours truly. Besides, I'm certainly not the only soldier who's bringing his boy along.”

”Boy? Josiah is a man, not a boy!” Josiah is a man, not a boy!”

”It's only a figure of speech. . . . Come on, Caroline, don't be mad at me. Who knows when we'll see each other again?”

Once again, his charm won me over, just as it always had in the past. I reached up to touch his cheek. ”I could never stay mad at you.”

”Then how about one last hug good-bye?”

I held him fondly in my arms-and in my heart. ”Be safe, Jonathan,” I whispered. ”Please. Please. Be safe.”

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Charles came later that evening to eat dinner with us. Esther vowed to fill him with enough food to last until the war ended, then she made a valiant attempt to do just that.