The Bregdan Chronicles

The sweeping historical saga that follows American history from 1859 thru ???

On To Richmond

Preview

A Note From the Author

       There are times in the writing of history when we must use words we personally abhor.  The use of the word “nigger” in Storm Clouds Rolling In is one of those times.  Though I hate the word, its use is necessary to reveal and to challenge the prejudices of the time in order to bring change and healing.  Stay with me until the end – I think you will agree. 

       My great hope is that Storm Clouds Rolling In will both entertain and challenge you.  I hope you will learn as much as I did during the months of research it took to write this book.  Though I now live in the Pacific Northwest, I grew up in the South and lived for 11 years in Richmond, VA.  I spent countless hours exploring the plantations that still line the banks of the James River and became fascinated by the history.          But you know, it’s not the events that fascinate me so much – it’s the people.  That’s all history is, you know.  History is the story of people’s lives.  History reflects the consequences of their choice and actions – both good and bad.  History is what has given you the world you live in today – both good and bad. 

       This truth is why I named this series The Bregdan Chronicles.  Bregdan is a Gaelic term for weaving.  Braiding.  Every life that has been lived until today is a part of the woven braid of life.  It takes every person’s story to create history.  Your life will help determine the course of history.  You may think you don’t have much of an impact.  You do.  Every action you take will reflect in someone else’s life.  Someone else’s decisions.  Someone else’s future.  Both good and bad.  That is The Bregdan Principle…

Every life that has been lived until today is a part of the woven braid of life.  It takes every person’s story to create history.  Your life will help determine the course of history.  You may think you don’t have much of an impact.  You do.  Every action you take will reflect in someone else’s life.  Someone else’s decisions.  Someone else’s future.  Both good and bad.

       My great hope as you read this book, and all that will follow, is that you will acknowledge the power you have, every day, to change the world around you by your decisions and actions.  Then I will know the research & writing were all worthwhile.

       Oh, and I hope you enjoy every moment of it, and learn to love the characters as much as I do!

       I’m already being asked how many books will be in this series.  I guess that depends on how long I live!  My intention is to release 2 books a year, each covering 1 year of history – continuing to weave the lives of my characters into the times they lived.  I hate to end a good book as much as anyone – always feeling so sad that I have to leave the characters.  You shouldn’t have to be sad for a long time!

       4 books are already written and will all be released in Spring 2010.  If you like what you read, you’ll want to make sure you’re on our mailing list at www.BregdanChronicles.com.  I’ll let you know each time a new one comes out!

Sincerely,

Ginny Dye

CHAPTER ONE

May 1861

Carrie Cromwell frowned as she stared out over the raging, turbulent waters of the James River.   Four days of steady rain had transformed the usually placid river into a furious monster tearing at its confining banks.  Torrents of water sweeping down from the western Appalachian Mountains would soon enable the river to succeed in its quest to top the banks and seek its claim on the surrounding farmland.   Massive tree trunks swept by like weightless match sticks, their solid darkness almost matching the muddy swirl of the water.  

Carrie lifted her eyes from the river to gaze up into the brilliant blue sky.  The rain had ended just the night before, leaving the air crystal clear and deliciously fresh.   She allowed herself to stare up into it for just a moment before she turned her eyes back to the river.  It more closely matched her thoughts. 

“Are you going to tell me about the letter you got from your Father?  Or are you just going to continue stewing about it?”

Carrie managed a slight smile as she turned to look at Rose.  “How did you know?”  Then she laughed.  “Don’t even bother to answer that question.  I should know by now that you know me almost as well as I know myself.”  

Carrie lapsed into brooding silence again, knowing Rose would give her all the time she needed to answer her question.   Granite, her towering grey Thoroughbred gelding, moved under her restlessly as the waters of the river won their fight with the muddy banks and began to edge slowly toward where the two friends watched from astride their horses.   Finally, she reached deep into the pocket of the navy blue dress she wore and pulled out a thick envelope. 

“This letter from Father came just this morning.”

Rose nodded.  “I saw the man who delivered it.”  She paused, and then asked carefully.  “Is it bad news?”

Carrie managed a slight laugh.  “Is there anything but bad news in our country right now?  Fort Sumter has fallen.  Virginia has seceded.   The war has begun...”  She shook her head.  It would not do to let her thoughts go where they wanted to.  She knew the thoughts would come - later - when it was dark and there was no flurry of activity to block them out.  But for now she would concentrate on what was at hand.  She raised her hand and stuffed an errant, wavy black strand of hair back into her long braid.  In a hurry to get to the river, she hadn’t even bothered to shape it into a bun.   Now the silky strands sought to escape the confines of the thick braid as the breeze teased her hair into rebellion. 

A frown creased her brow again as she stared down at the letter in her hand.   “Father has been asked by Governor Letcher to take a high position in the Virginia state government.”

“Surely you expected that.   Your father has been working with the Governor since he left in November.”

Carrie frowned again as memories of her father’s hopelessness after the death of his beloved wife, Abigail, swept through her mind.  She missed her mother, too, but they had grown close only in the last month of her life so her death hadn’t left the same gaping hole.  She nodded as Rose’s words penetrated her thoughts.  “Yes, of course I expected it...”

“Then what is troubling you so much?”  Rose demanded. 

Carrie almost smiled at the impatience in her friend’s voice.   The freedom they experienced in their friendship was wonderful.   A year ago, things had been very different.  Rose had still been her best friend, but the reality of Rose being her personal slave, while she lived the luxurious life of a wealthy plantation owner’s daughter, had put an impenetrable barrier of protocol between them.  The past year had blown those barriers away.  Now they were like sisters. 

Carrie struggled to express her feelings.  “Everything is so different now...” she began haltingly.   “It was exciting to think of Father standing close to the helm of Virginia when we were still part of the Union and everyone was fighting so hard to keep it that way.   But now...”  She paused and stared out at the rampaging river as she tried to force her turbulent thoughts into some form of order.  “Father believed so much in keeping the Union together.  Now he has flung himself into the struggle for Southern independence.   I guess that’s what is hard.   He is fighting just as hard to defend what he didn’t believe in, as he fought to keep it from happening.”  She shook her head slowly.  “I still can’t believe it’s true.  Virginia is no longer a part of the United States.  I am no longer a United States citizen.”

“What else did your father say, Carrie?”  Rose’s voice was now gentle, as if she sensed the deep turmoil boiling in her friend. 

Carrie shook her head more firmly.  “I’m sorry.”  Her short laugh held no humor.  “I realize I’m not being very communicative today.  Let me try this again.”  She gazed down at the letter she held in her hand, and searched for the right place.   “Here it is...”   She straightened in the saddle to read her father’s words, bracing herself to accept the truth of what she read.

Dearest Daughter,

I have grand news for you.  Our fair capitol of Richmond is being chosen for a high honor.  The decision is being made, even as I write this letter, to place the seat of our wonderful Confederacy right here in Richmond.

Rose looked at Carrie in surprise.  “I thought the Confederate Capitol was in Montgomery, Alabama.”

Carrie shrugged.  “It was.”  She put down the letter and tried to explain what her father had written without having to decipher his handwriting again.   “It seems Alexander Stephens, the Vice-President of the Confederacy, arrived in Richmond just a few days after the Convention voted to secede.    He was impressed by Richmond’s beauty, but it was much more than that that caused him to make his recommendation for Richmond to become the Capitol.  He is well aware of Richmond’s economic wealth and the potential for growth.” 

Carrie paused as she tried to remember what else her father had said.   “Tredegar Iron Works played a big role in his decision.  That, along with the other iron companies in Richmond.  Stephens said the Confederate government’s war-waging capacity would have suffered a staggering blow if Virginia hadn’t seceded.   They’re counting on Richmond for cannons, ammunitions, boats and other things.”   She looked out over the river again as she tried to erase the image of Southern cannons pointed toward her friends from the North.  “My father said something about Richmond being strategic in a military sense but I’m not sure what he meant.   He may write more about it later.”

“Do you want the South to win the war?” Rose asked bluntly. 

Carrie turned to stare into her eyes.  “You do manage to cut through to the quick of an issue, don’t you?”

Rose merely shrugged and returned Carrie’s look. 

Carrie swung her gaze back to the river.  It matched her emotions now even more than it had a few moments ago – her feelings as tossed and jumbled as the muddy cauldron.  Finally, she turned back to Rose.  “I don’t know,” she stated flatly.  “I think this whole war is stupid.  I think people should have had enough sense to keep it from ever happening.  But now that it’s here?  I just don’t know, Rose.”  She smiled slightly.  “Does that make me bad?”

Rose sat quietly. 

“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Carrie demanded.

Rose shook her head. 

Carrie managed a brief laugh and then forced herself to look deep into her heart.   Rose’s question had made her realize what was really eating at her heart and mind.  She was living in a nation at war.  Where was her allegiance?  Did she have one?  Did it make her a traitor to her beloved South if she couldn’t enter the conflict wholeheartedly?  How could she support a war that was being fought largely over the continuation of slavery - an institution she despised?  But how could she not fight to keep her homeland from being destroyed?  What about Robert...?  The turbulence of her thoughts once again threatened to overwhelm her, just as the river was overwhelming the defeated banks it was now creeping over.  “I don’t know.  I simply don’t know...” she murmured. 

Her troubled thoughts demanded an outlet.  She shook her head and cried, “Beat you back to the house!”  Spinning Granite on his haunches, she launched him into a ground-swallowing gallop.  She knew Rose, on the much smaller mare, Maple, wouldn’t stand a chance but she didn’t care.  She had to release her spinning thoughts.  She leaned low over Granite’s neck and allowed the fresh air to envelope her.  Granite pulled at the reins and she gave him what he wanted.  The big Thoroughbred flattened himself to the ground as he flew down the road leading back to the Cromwell Plantation house. 

Carrie moved as one with the horse she had owned since childhood.  As they flashed through the afternoon sun, flying in and out of pockets of shade, she slowly felt herself relax.   She could almost feel the cobwebs floating out of her mind.  She didn’t have to have any answers yet.  Her heart was demanding one, but life wasn’t yet demanding one.  She knew that for now she was supposed to stay on the plantation, doing what she had been doing since her father had left to go to Richmond.  When the time came that she needed to know her heart and mind more clearly, she would know what she was supposed to do.  She would simply have to believe that. 

As the realization of that truth sank through, she gave a glad laugh and pulled Granite down to a slow canter.  Only then did she think of Rose.  She glanced back but could catch no glimpse of her friend.  She pulled Granite down to a walk and turned him around to stare in the direction she had come from.  Nothing.  Concern replaced the glad smile with deep lines of worry.  Had Rose fallen off?  Was something wrong?  She had taught her friend how to ride several months ago, but Rose still wasn’t entirely confident on a horse.  Berating herself for dashing off in a wild run, Carrie urged Granite into a gallop and sped back down the road. 

She was halfway to the river before she caught sight of Rose trotting Maple calmly down the road.  “Are you all right?” she cried.   “What happened?”

Rose laughed softly.  “I’m fine.  I didn’t have any inside bombs to diffuse.  Maple and I are simply enjoying the afternoon.  She agreed with me that it was silly to go racing after a horse we could never catch.” 

Carrie laughed at the amused expression on Rose’s face and swung Granite alongside to trot with them. 

“Are you feeling better after your mad run?”

Carrie nodded.  “It always helps,” she said simply. 

Rose smiled and fell into a short silence.  Then she looked up.  “What did your father say about the plantation?”

Carrie frowned at her question.  “I don’t know how long we can keep up our little game.  Father asked about Ike Adams again.  He was concerned that Adams would have to leave the plantation as overseer.”

“Why?”

“It seems Virginia is even more nervous about her slave population now that the war has started.  They’re afraid more and more slaves will try to escape and head north to join up with the Union.  The Confederacy is already calling for huge numbers of volunteers to join the army.  In addition to that, the Virginia government is calling for more men to join the state militia to keep down any slave uprisings and to bring back slaves who are trying to escape.   Father asked in his letter whether Adams was talking about joining the militia and leaving the plantation.  He said something about the government making overseers exempt from military service.”

“So they can keep all the slaves under control,” Rose stated in a hard voice.

“There are a lot of people who are afraid the slaves are going to rebel more and more now that the war has started.  They’re frightened of losing control.”

Rose merely nodded, her contemptuous look speaking her heart.  Then she turned back to the subject they had started with.  “He’s going to find out sooner or later, Carrie.”

Carrie nodded impatiently.  “I know.  I know.”  She couldn’t believe they had pulled off their deception for this long.  Her father was working in Richmond, secure in the supposed knowledge that Cromwell Plantation was being managed under the capable hands of his overseer, Ike Adams.  He had no idea that Carrie had thrown him off the plantation seven months earlier for attempting to rape Rose.  Since that time Carrie had been running the plantation with only the aid of Rose’s husband, Moses, whom she had appointed as the overseer. 

“I still can’t believe someone hasn’t told him.  It seems like everyone locally knows about it,” Rose said.

“Father is so caught up in his work he isn’t aware of anything else.”  There was no bitterness in Carrie’s voice.  She had long ago accepted she was right where she was supposed to be.  She hated the deception but believed it was necessary.  Yet more and more the necessity of lying to her father was eating at her.  Their relationship had always been built on trust.  Would he ever forgive her when he discovered the truth - which of course he would someday?  How much longer could she live with herself - knowing she was lying to her beloved father?   The plantation was still running smoothly.  Isn’t that what really counted?  She shook her head to push away her disquieting thoughts.  Pulling Granite back down to a walk, she reached into her pocket to pull out the letter again.  “Let me read you what else he wrote.”

Sunday morning, April 21, dawned warm and balmy.  The churches of the city were unusually full.  The final prayers were just being said by our minister when the bell on the Square began to toll.  In an instant all was confusion.  Soon the streets were full of shouting that the Yankee gunboat, Pawnee, was steaming up the James to shell the city!  Military companies joined together, the artillery was called out, and women and children streamed to the river to watch the battle for the defense of our city. 

I, of course, had to go rapidly to the Capitol to confer with the Governor.  Word reached us shortly that it had been nothing but a false alarm.    Indeed, it was almost laughable.  There was no boat coming up the river.  Even if there had been, her heavy draught would not have permitted passage to the city.  Richmond citizens, relieved there was no attack, were able to laugh at their gullibility and resume their Sunday routine. 

It was not treated so lightly in the Capitol building.   We are all relieved that Colonel Robert E. Lee arrives tomorrow to take over the command of Virginia’s troops.  The Pawnee Scare, as we are all now calling it, simply demonstrated the chaotic unpreparedness of Richmond’s defenses.   It may have been a good joke on the city, but it also revealed a very uncomical state of unreadiness.  We have much work to do to be ready to defend our city from the attacks that will surely come from the North. 

“When does he think the North will attack?” Rose asked.

Carrie shrugged, folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket.  “I don’t know.  He ends the letter there with an apology that he can’t write more because of time.”   Something in Rose’s voice had caught her attention.  She turned to look at her friend.  “Who do you want to win the war, Rose?”  She had been so busy thinking of her own answer to that question that she hadn’t bothered to think how Rose would answer it. 

Rose met her eyes squarely.  “The South is fighting to preserve its right to slavery, Carrie.  I know there are many other issues at stake, but wouldn’t you agree that is a major one?”

Carrie nodded, knowing where Rose was headed. 

Rose smiled slightly.  “Surely you don’t think I would support a war that would leave my people even one second longer in bondage and misery.  I have no idea what the outcome of all this will be, but I can only pray for freedom for my people.  Freedom to learn without having to hide in the woods in a secret school.  Freedom to live their lives the way they desire.  Freedom to marry and never worry they will be sold away from each other.  Freedom to know their children will not disappear one day - sold to the highest bidder.”  Rose paused.  “I’m not sure what will happen to the slavery system if the North wins.  Maybe nothing.  But I am sure what will happen if the South wins.”

Carrie nodded.  “I understand.”   She knew most of her friends and family were ardently opposed to the beliefs she now held, but she was comfortable with what she believed.  There would be times when her position would cause her heartache but she knew she had to be true to herself. 

The look Rose directed her way was a mixture of appreciation and compassion.  Carrie knew what she was thinking.  Robert...  They had not talked about him since Carrie had returned from Richmond a month ago.  Rose didn’t know about...  Carrie shook her head firmly and reined her thoughts back in.   Now was not the time.

“Tell me how your school is going.”   Rose would know what game she was playing.

Rose played the game well, launching easily into a newer, safer subject.  “The school is going wonderfully!   Every child on this plantation can now read a little and write their name.  There are some who struggle to do that.  Others are going almost faster than I can keep up with.”  Rose paused, her eyes glowing with excitement.  “Oh, Carrie, there is nothing more exciting than seeing a child struggle to read and suddenly get it.  It’s just like a light goes off in their head.  I can see it because it lights up their eyes!  Suddenly all those shapes make sense and a whole new world is open to them!”

Carrie smiled as she watched her friend’s face.  “Someday you’ll have your own school, Rose.  You’ll be free.  Then you can be the teacher you’ve always dreamed of being.”

Rose frowned.  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  Then she paused.  “I’m in no hurry, though.  The only way I can have my dream is for Mama to die.  I can’t even stand to think that way.” 

Carrie nodded, unable to imagine Cromwell Plantation without Rose’s mama, Sarah.  Sarah had been a part of her life since she’d been born.  She had been more like a mama to her than her own mother had been.  Rose adored her mama, and had vowed to never escape the plantation as long as she was alive. 

“I’m content for right now,” Rose continued.  “Moses and I have that wonderful new cabin you gave us.  The plantation children are growing and learning, and I still get to teach the adults.  So many of them, especially Opal, are learning so fast.” 

When Rose fell silent, Carrie knew she was thinking about the group of eight slaves she had helped escape through the Underground Railroad 10 months earlier.  Opal could have been part of that group, but she had chosen to stay on the plantation, too afraid to leave the security she had always known.  It was many months later before Carrie discovered the whole story.  “She would make a different decision now, wouldn’t she?” Carrie asked quietly.

Rose shrugged.  “I think so.  She knows she can leave, though.  I just don’t think she has anything to go to.  And all the slaves are happy now.  They have plenty of free time.  They are working hard because they want to.   You’ve given them plenty of land to plant their gardens and their livestock is thriving.   The ones who are left simply don’t want to leave.”   She paused.  “Freedom is more important to some of us than others.  Some people can think of nothing but freedom.  Others concentrate on security and safety because that’s what is most important to them.  I think all the slaves with a yearning for freedom are gone.  The ones who are still here are here because they want to be.”

Carrie nodded and then started in the saddle.  A far off call had caught her attention.  Straining her eyes, she looked off to the west.  It took a moment for her eyes to focus.  “It’s Moses,” she said suddenly.  “I wonder if something is wrong.” 

It took only a couple of minutes for Moses to canter up to where they waited for him on the road.   The towering black man rode his large gelding easily.  He had learned to ride when Rose did, but it had come naturally to him.  Now he looked as if he had spent all of his life in the saddle. 

Carrie admired his grace for a moment and then spoke quickly.  “Is something wrong, Moses?”

“Not a thing,” he grinned.  “I just saw my beautiful wife and my favorite plantation owner’s daughter, and thought you might like to take a look at the fields.  It’s been a while since you’ve ridden the fields, Carrie.”

“I trust what you’re doing.”

Moses nodded easily.  “I know that.  But you’ve been doing all your work inside lately.  You haven’t been doing what you love.  I’d like to show you what we’ve been doing.”

Carrie hesitated, and then agreed with a smile.  “You’re right.  I’ve been too chained to papers and reports lately.  Not to mention nursing sick people down in the Quarters.  I certainly will be glad when this latest illness goes away.  Two more of the children came down with it yesterday.  It’s not too serious, but they will be miserable for a few days.”  Her face creased with a frown as she thought about them.

Moses interpreted her look.  “Sarah will take care of them till you get back, Carrie.”  His tone was gentle, but firm. 

Carrie gazed at him for a moment and then smiled again.  “Lead the way, overseer.  We’re all yours.”

Carrie allowed thoughts of everything else to flow from her mind as the three trotted easily down the road.   She was thankful for the raised roads her father had so carefully built.  The hot sun had already almost dried the well-drained surface, while the fields still had standing puddles from the massive rains.   Stretched out on each side were luxuriant fields of green. 

Moses pointed proudly to his right.  “The tobacco is coming in fine.   Even with fewer hands to work it, we’re still on target with what they did last year.  This last rain is going to help us a lot.  The ground was getting pretty dry. These soaking rains will put all the moisture back in the soil.  We should have a bumper crop this year.”

Carrie smiled as she looked over the fields.  She knew her father would be proud of the way they looked.  She also knew he would be shocked if he knew they had been completely supervised by one of his own slaves.  Her father was convinced blacks were intellectually incapable of being in charge of themselves and of their destiny.  If he could only see what Moses and the rest had done, maybe it would change his mind.  Not that she held much hope of that.  She and her father had argued about slavery before.  They clearly stood on opposite sides of the fence.   He and Robert were in agreement on that issue.  Robert...  Once again the thoughts she fought so hard to control flooded her mind.   His handsome face and flashing dark eyes, surrounded by a shock of wavy, dark hair rose before her. 

Granite, startled momentarily by a rabbit bolting from the brush lining the fields, shied slightly and snorted his disdain for the furry little creature as he once again picked up his steady trot.  It was enough to jolt Carrie from her errant thoughts.

The three friends rode in silence for a long while.  It was Moses who broke the silence.  “It doesn’t seem possible there is a war going on.  Life is going on around here just like always.”

Once again a frown creased Carrie’s face.  “I hope the war doesn’t touch us here.”  She paused.  “I don’t know how realistic that is, though.”   For just a moment she could see swarms of soldiers flooding the fields of Cromwell Plantation.  She shook her head to push away the vision.  “My father said in his letter that men from all over the South are pouring into Richmond to train as soldiers.  Lee has started up a training camp at the Fairgrounds.   With Washington less than a hundred miles away, there are sure to be attempts to take Richmond.  He said the people seem to be actually eager for a fight.”   She shuddered as she thought of the death and destruction on both sides.  “They seem to think one good beating from the South will make the North tuck their tails between their legs and flee back to their homes.”

“You disagree?” Rose asked.

“I think too many people are still seeing it as a game.  When Southern boys are killed and the wounded start pouring in, I believe reality will set in.  And no, I don’t believe the North is full of the cowards they think it is.  I know many of them.  They, too, are going to fight for what they believe in.” 

Moses nodded.  “It’s going to be a long war, I think.”

Something in his voice caused Carrie to turn and stare at him, questioning him with her eyes.

He met her gaze without flinching.  He squared his shoulders and spoke evenly.  “I don’t have anything against you, Carrie.  You’re one of the finest women I know.  But I got a big problem with all the folks who done been keepin’ my people in bondage for so long.  I done seen too much misery to forget it.”

Carrie watched him with compassion.  It was at times like this when Moses slipped back into the slave dialect he had spoken all his life.  He had learned to read and write quickly under Rose’s tutelage, and he had worked hard to improve his speech so he would be ready to go out into the world when his opportunity for freedom came.   But when his great heart became aroused about something he was passionate about, he could still slip back into his old speech. 

“You know what we’re doing with the tobacco right now, Carrie?”

Carrie was surprised by his sudden question.  What did this have to do with what they were talking about?  She furrowed her brow and tried to pull her thoughts back to the cultivation of tobacco.  Finally she nodded.  “You should be pruning and worming right now.”

Moses nodded.  “That’s right.”  He paused for a long moment and then continued.  “Raising tobacco is the same everywhere.  You always got to do the worming or those big, green worms will wipe out an entire crop.”

Carrie watched him closely.  Where was he going with this?  He knew that she was as informed about farming techniques as he was.  Her father, lacking a son to train on the plantation, had imparted all of his knowledge to her.  She had even spent some time helping with the worming.  She remembered her disgust at having to crush the worms one by one so their voracious appetites wouldn’t obliterate a crop.

“My little sister was working the fields one day when the worming was being done.”  Moses face had gone expressionless and his voice was flat. 

Carrie’s face softened.  She knew he was reliving the pain of his life on the plantation he had come from the year before.   She also knew how his heart ached for his family that had been sold away from each other at the auction house in Richmond.

“June was just a little thing then.  Not even six years old.  She had been in the hot sun all day long and she wasn’t feeling too good.   She finally got too tired to kill the worms.  Instead of crushing them in her hands, she just dropped them in the field and moved on to the next one.  She didn’t have no idea she was being watched...”  His voice trailed off and then picked up the story.  “I turned around just in time to see the overseer grab her and spin her around.  First he slapped her across the face...”  Moses’ voice roughened as he remembered.  “Then he reached down and grabbed a whole handful of them worms and stuffed them in her mouth.  June was a gagging and a choking while he just stood there and laughed.” 

A deep silence fell on the three as they all experienced the humiliation and pain of Moses’ story.

Finally Moses spoke again, his voice once more under control.  “I don’t know for sure what will happen to slavery if the North wins this war.  But I do know for sure what will happen if they don’t.”   Moses took a deep breath and straightened his broad shoulders a little more.  “I aim to do whatever I can to help the North if the opportunity ever comes.  Right now I ain’t got no idea what that is...”  He paused for a long moment.  “But I’ll know when the time comes.”  His gaze swung out over the fields as his voice dropped to a rough whisper.  “Yep.  I’ll know when the time comes.”

Carrie watched him, not in surprise or shock, but in sorrow.  Sorrow that it had come to this.  Americans fighting Americans.   Her heart grew heavy as she, too, allowed her eyes to roam the land that was her home. 

The clouds that had descended upon America with the fall of Fort Sumter had intensified in their darkness.  Carrie shuddered.  Brothers were preparing to fight brothers. Men everywhere were leaving their families and homes to fight in a war they little understood.  Friends, divided by loyalties and geography, were taking up arms to destroy friends.  Families were being ripped apart by differing allegiances.  Carrie knew that dark angels of death waited in the wings while the clouds moved ever lower to meet the darkness of men’s hearts. 

Cool air had moved in to claim the night.  Carrie sighed with relief as a welcoming breeze flowed through her curtains and swept underneath the canopy bed where she lay.  As usual, she was exhausted.  The days began early and ended late, full of frenetic activity as she worked to keep a huge plantation running smoothly. 

She lay back against her mound of pillows and allowed the refreshing air to caress her tired body.  Gradually she felt herself begin to relax.  She knew what would come next, but she also knew there was no way to fight it.  She had tried for the last five weeks to control her thoughts - to no avail.  She would let them run their course, until she fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion. 

Unbidden, thoughts of Robert Borden flooded her mind.  His handsome face smiling down at her as they swirled and dipped around the dance floor.   His enchanting laugh as they cruised up the James River on the packet boat, the John Marshall.   His angry look when she tried to talk to him about slavery.  And finally, the look of hatred on his face as he told her of watching his father die at the hand of a slave. 

Carrie’s emotions swirled with the pictures racing through her mind.  She loved Robert Borden.  She would not deny that.  But the love brought her no joy.  It brought nothing but pain. 

The pictures in her mind faded away as the most vivid one took their place.  The look of confusion, pain and anger on Robert’s face the day she had told him, five weeks before in Richmond that she could not marry him because they held such different views on slavery and on the value of a people God held as his own.  Her heart had broken that day just as surely as his had.  There had been a short note the day she had left Richmond that had given her a brief flicker of hope, but nothing since then. 

In the lucid light of day, Carrie knew she had done the right thing.  She could never join her life with someone who held such hatred and anger in his heart.  But at night...  At night she remembered all the wonderful things about Robert.  The way they laughed and talked so easily.  The feel of his arms holding her.  The memory of the one kiss they had shared.  The kiss that held so much promise...  A promise that had been swept away by the reality of their differences. 

Once again the questions tortured her.  Had she done the right thing?  Had she thrown away her only love?  Where was he?  Would he be going into battle soon?  Would she ever see him again?  Carrie tossed and turned as the answerless questions stormed through her. 

Gradually, fatigue won the battle over her mind.  As a new moon lifted its shiny sliver to glimmer a faint light down on the boiling rampage of the James River, Carrie slipped into an exhausted slumber.

510 Page Novel