Part 38 (1/2)

But even after they'd prayed and had eaten the small meal Esther had prepared, Caroline still wasn't certain whether they should remain in Richmond or try to flee to a safer place. ”Will you take me downtown, Eli?” she finally asked. ”Maybe if I see for myself what's going on, I'll have a better idea what we should do.”

”Ain't you supposed to stay at home?”

”If all the rumors are true, no one will really care where I go anymore.”

Eli got the buggy ready, and they drove down the hill through the crowded streets. Most people were headed west or southwest, the only directions that weren't blocked by thousands of Yankee troops. Caroline wondered how she and Eli would ever be able to move against the tide and get back up the hill again to their home.

As they pa.s.sed Capitol Square, she saw people frantically packing government doc.u.ments and hurrying them out of the building. In the business district, all the banks were open, even though it was Sunday, and people had lined up for blocks to withdraw their money. Wagons and carts of all sizes and descriptions filled the roads and bridges, loaded with trunks and boxes and household goods. Hundreds of people were fleeing on foot, walking the ca.n.a.l towpath out of town toward Lynchburg, carrying bundles on their backs. Ashen-faced soldiers with missing limbs hobbled by on crutches or were carried along on makes.h.i.+ft stretchers. Caroline saw one desperate mother loading her three small children into a goat cart. Every means of transportation imaginable was being used to leave Richmond.

Confusion and panic reigned over the entire city, growing and spreading like an epidemic. Seeing the terror on every face, Caroline remembered the story Eli had once told her of men running in fear from the giant, Goliath. Only little David had faith in G.o.d's deliverance. She made up her mind. ”I don't think G.o.d wants us to run away in fear like this, do you, Eli?” she asked.

”No, Missy. Ain't nothing wrong with being afraid-that's only human. But we need to give our fear to Ma.s.sa Jesus instead of letting our imaginations run off with it.”

”Let's go home.” But even after making her decision, Caroline had to pray away her own panic as they headed back up the hill again.

It proved even more difficult than she had guessed to wade through the moving stream of people and vehicles, all headed in the opposite direction. Eli had to walk beside the panicked mare, leading her by the halter, to get her to move at all. At least a dozen people stopped them, begging Caroline to sell them her horse so they could transport a family member who was old or ailing. She turned away offers of Confederate dollars, U.S. greenbacks, and even gold pieces worth as much as a thousand dollars. She began to worry that someone would simply steal the horse, and she wished that Eli had brought one of her father's pistols along.

When they reached the top of the hill, they saw a column of Confederate soldiers marching toward them, double quick. ”We have to get off the main road,” Caroline cried. ”Hurry. We can't let them see our horse or they'll take her.”

But instead of speeding up, Eli halted the carriage. ”Jump down, Missy, and grab hold of these reins. She'll go faster without the buggy.” As quickly as he could, he unhitched the horse as the sound of tramping feet drew closer. ”Run with her, Missy. Run down that side street. Get her home, quick.”

All her life, Caroline had been afraid of horses, but she wasn't about to lose the last one she owned to the Confederates. She grabbed the halter next to the horse's muzzle and began to run. Five minutes later she stumbled into the carriage house, her heart pounding. She was breathless with exhaustion, but at least the mare was safe. When she could breathe again, she sent Gilbert back to help Eli pull the buggy home.

”We're staying,” Caroline told her servants when they were all together again. ”We'll try to guard the house and the mare as best we can, but they're not the most important things. What's important is each other. Nothing else matters as long as we all come through this safely.”

For Caroline, waiting proved the hardest part-as it always had. She stood on her father's balcony and watched the refugees stream across Mayo's Bridge toward Manchester until it grew too dark to see. After nightfall, she could hear the chaos and tumult down in the city streets-shouts and cries and the sounds of breaking gla.s.s as mobs looted stores and some of the homes that had been evacuated downtown. She later learned that all the guards at the city prisons had fled, allowing convicts to escape and join the pillaging.

Caroline made her servants bring blankets and pillows into the drawing room where they would sleep that night, dressed in their street clothes and shoes. They tethered the mare right outside the doors to the backyard. She armed Eli and Gilbert with her father's pistols. Even so, no one slept much, except for the baby.

Close to midnight, Caroline heard the cry of a train whistle as President Davis and the last of the Confederate government officials left town on the Danville Railroad. She lay awake in the darkness, praying for Charles and for all the people she loved, huddled in the drawing room beside her.

A long time after that, she finally managed to drift off into a very light sleep.

Chapter Twenty-six.

April 1865.

The sky was barely turning light the next morning when a monumental explosion jolted Caroline right off of the sofa and onto her feet. It was as though a hundred cannon had fired at the same time. Moments later there was a second blast, every bit as powerful as the first. Then a third. The concussions seemed to shake the house to its foundations. Caroline cowered in terror as windows on the south side of her house shattered from the force of the explosions.

For a moment, she felt dazed, then panic-stricken. She was afraid that the house would collapse on all of them. Isaac was screaming in fear, Luella and Ruby were crying, Gilbert was holding his head and moaning. Her own head ached from the detonation. She wanted to run but didn't know in which direction to flee.

”It's okay. We're all okay,” Eli said, holding Esther in his arms. Then he saw the terrified mare, straining at her rope as a shower of splinters and gla.s.s rained down on her, and he hurried outside to soothe her.

When Caroline had calmed down enough to think, she decided to run upstairs to her father's balcony and try to see what had happened. She had to step carefully over the broken gla.s.s that littered the floor. Three Confederate wars.h.i.+ps had long been anch.o.r.ed in the James River below, ready to defend the city in case the Union fleet made it past Drewry's Bluff. Now they were gone. The retreating Rebels had blown them to pieces rather than allow the Yankees to retrieve their cannon and stores of ammunition. Dense smoke, filled with thousands of fiery fragments, billowed into the sky where the s.h.i.+ps had been anch.o.r.ed.

”Oh, G.o.d, help us,” she murmured. Those s.h.i.+ps probably weren't the only things the fleeing Confederates would destroy. In the past, each time Richmond had been threatened, city officials had talked of torching the town rather than leaving anything for the Yankees to gloat over.

She hurried downstairs to tell the others. ”I think that was just the beginning,” she said. ”The Rebels will probably blow up everything they don't want the Yankees to get. There will be more blasts when the a.r.s.enal goes up. I'm afraid they're going to set the entire city on fire.”

It took everyone a moment to digest the news. ”I think we'll be all right, up here on the hill,” Eli finally said.

”Probably,” Caroline agreed, ”but each of us had better pack some belongings, just in case. We can watch from the balcony, and if the fire starts spreading this way, we'll be ready to run.”

She climbed the stairs again with Gilbert, and they watched in horrified fascination as all the s.h.i.+ps docked at the wharf caught fire. A row of tobacco warehouses near her father's went up next, flames licking through the windows and roofs. As time pa.s.sed, fire and smoke began to curl into the sky from several more locations in the lower city, and Caroline could hear the hungry crackle and roar of the growing inferno, even at this distance.

”Look . . . Confederate soldiers,” Gilbert said, pointing. A long gray column of men snaked across the James River on Mayo's Bridge, heading south. That probably meant that the northeastern approaches to the city had been left unguarded.

”They've set the railroad bridges on fire,” Gilbert said. Caroline watched the flames inch across the slender wooden structures like a creeping predator until the bridges began to collapse, dropping into the river in a cloud of steam. When nearly all of the soldiers had reached the other side of the James, they torched Mayo's Bridge, as well. The river reflected the glowing flames as if it, too, were on fire.

Tears fell silently down Caroline's cheeks as she stood on the balcony for nearly two hours, watching Richmond burn. She felt utterly helpless as flames consumed more and more of the business district, spreading at last to the flour mill that Charles' family had owned for several generations. How would he and his family survive if their livelihood went up in smoke?

”At least the fire ain't spreading up this way,” Gilbert said when he noticed her tears. But then Caroline realized in which direction the conflagration was spreading-to the west and north, inching up from the river toward Capitol Square and nearby Court End. Toward Charles' home.

”I wonder if Sally and her parents fled the city last night?” she asked aloud. But Charles' father had been ill for months, too weak to travel very far. If they were home, Sally would be terrified, with no safe place to go. ”I promised Jonathan I would look after her,” she murmured.

Gilbert looked at her. ”Who, Missy?”

”His wife, Sally. Would you be willing to drive me downtown to her house?” she asked. ”I won't make you do it unless you want to, Gilbert. The Yankees will be here any minute, and you'll be a free man. You're not obliged to follow my orders anymore.”

”Ain't safe for either one of us to go down there.”

”Maybe not. But Sally's servants won't stay with her and help her like you're all helping me. She and her parents won't have any way to hitch up the carriage or get out of Court End if the fire spreads in that direction. I need to bring them up here, where it's safe.”

”I can go get them for you, Missy. Ain't no need for you to 407 risk your life.”

His courage brought tears to her eyes, but she shook her head. ”I need to go,” she said quietly. ”I need to make it up to them for using them the way I did. Please, if you'll just get the buggy ready, I can probably drive it myself.”

Gilbert gripped her shoulders, something he had never done before in his life. His gaze met hers. ”I promise your daddy I gonna look after you. I ain't letting you go down there alone.”

”Then we'll both go. Come on.”

Eli tried in vain to stop them. ”Just pray for us,” she told him. ”This is something I have to do.”

Gilbert whipped the horse into a near gallop once they were on Main Street, and headed down Church Hill. When they reached the bottom they could hear the crackling flames, roaring and hissing like a living creature. Mixed in were shouts and cries as looters wove among the burning buildings like ghosts, keeping ahead of the flames. Dense black smoke billowed into the sky, showering Caroline and Gilbert with ash and soot until they could scarcely breathe. She could feel the heated air with each breath she took. Flaming bits of debris showered down around them. Surely this was like the earth's final end, when fire would engulf the planet and the firmament itself would melt with a fervent heat.

The entire lower city, all the way to the river, was in flames. Caroline saw great sheets of fire leaping from window to window, building to building, like children skipping across a stream from stone to stone. Several downtown banks were on fire. Flames soared through the roof of the Enquirer Enquirer building. Two of the city's biggest hotels, the American and the Columbian, were enveloped. She heard a low rumble and saw one wall of the post office building collapse. The flames moved on to devour the state courthouse and all the public records stored there. People were running up to the square from the lower city to escape the fire, women and children, old and young, weeping, screaming. Thankfully, the fire hadn't reached Capitol Square yet, or St. Paul's Church. building. Two of the city's biggest hotels, the American and the Columbian, were enveloped. She heard a low rumble and saw one wall of the post office building collapse. The flames moved on to devour the state courthouse and all the public records stored there. People were running up to the square from the lower city to escape the fire, women and children, old and young, weeping, screaming. Thankfully, the fire hadn't reached Capitol Square yet, or St. Paul's Church.

But adding to the horror of the destruction was the fact that no one was rus.h.i.+ng to put out the fire. Caroline didn't see a single fire wagon in the streets or even hear a clanging alarm bell. The people she saw were either fleeing, looting, or watching in mute horror as the city burned.

Gilbert had just turned north off Main Street when the inferno reached the Confederate a.r.s.enal. The explosions that followed were so horrific, Caroline thought the earth would rock off its axis. The mare reared in terror, tipping the buggy and throwing Gilbert to the ground as the reverberations went on and on. Caroline grabbed onto the seat in time and managed to hold on until the buggy righted itself, but her screams were lost in the endless rumble of sound as several hundred railcars full of ammunition continued to detonate. Then, still dazed, she saw that Gilbert was about to be trampled by the panicked horse. Caroline leaped down and grabbed the mare's bridle, stopping her just in time. It took every ounce of strength she had to hang on as the horse reared and bucked in terror.

”Gilbert!” she screamed above the unceasing roar of exploding sh.e.l.ls. ”Gilbert!” Please, G.o.d . . . let him be all right! Please, G.o.d . . . let him be all right! She watched as he slowly rolled over, then sat up, looking stunned but unhurt. When he saw her clinging to the frightened horse, he scrambled to his feet to help her. She watched as he slowly rolled over, then sat up, looking stunned but unhurt. When he saw her clinging to the frightened horse, he scrambled to his feet to help her.

”Gilbert, thank G.o.d. I'm so sorry I got you into this,” she said. But Caroline could barely hear her own voice and knew he couldn't possibly hear her above the sound of the blasts. They walked for the next few blocks to the St. Johns' house, holding the horse tightly between them. When they finally arrived, Gilbert led the mare into the carriage house to calm her down and try to get her out of the smoke, while Caroline walked up to the door of the mansion alone.

After pounding for several minutes, it occurred to her that no one inside could possibly hear her above the fusillade from the a.r.s.enal, so she simply opened the door herself and went inside. As she had guessed, all of the St. Johns' servants had fled. She found Sally and her mother alone in the house, huddled beneath the dining room table, nearly insane with terror. They clung to her when they saw her, as if she was the last person alive on the earth.