Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [188]
Yankees.
The United States Cavalry had already arrived in the square, followed by long, unending lines of blue-coated soldiers, tramping down the hill into the city. Hundreds of those soldiers were Negroes. The Stars and Stripes already flew from the roof of the capitol building again, and a band had begun to play the “Star Spangled Banner.” Crowds of Richmond’s former slaves lined the streets to cheer the conquerors. It was like a scene from a nightmare, Caroline thought, to hear gaiety and celebration in the midst of burning and horror.
Gilbert deftly avoided the marching soldiers and spreading fire, weaving his way down side streets until they were climbing Church Hill once again. An hour later they were home, safely inside, away from the smoke and the fear and the roar of the flames.
Caroline continued to console the two women, holding them in her arms, talking with them, praying with them. Esther brought them a little warm soup to eat. Late that afternoon, when Sally and her mother were fed and comforted, Caroline put them to bed in her mother’s room.
As evening fell, a pall of black smoke hid the setting sun. In the distance, shells continued to explode at the arsenal and at the Tredegar Iron Works, now in flames as well. But the Yankees had worked hard all afternoon, putting out most of the fires. They had stopped it from spreading to the rest of the city. Eli locked and bolted the doors as Caroline and her servants prepared to spend another night in the drawing room.
It was only then, after the day’s harrowing events were far behind her, that Caroline fully realized what she had seen that morning. She leaped up from the sofa, startling all of her servants. “The Yankees are here!” she said. “They were flying the American flag.”
“Yes, Missy,” Eli said. “We know. Gilbert told us.”
“But that means you’re all free. Finally! You aren’t slaves anymore. You’re free men and women—all of you.”
Eli broke into a wide grin. “We know that, too, Missy. We knowing it all day, now.”
“Well, for goodness’ sakes, why aren’t you celebrating?” Caroline began grabbing them, one after the other, and hugging them—even Gilbert.
Eli squeezed her hard in return. “Didn’t seem right for us to celebrate, seeing as you and the other women losing so much.”
“You don’t have to feel that way,” Caroline said. “Come on, let’s dance . . . laugh . . . sing! This is the most wonderful day of your life! You’re free!”
She tried to pull Gilbert to his feet, but he shook his head, smiling shyly. “If you don’t mind, Missy, I think we all like to celebrate by getting a good night’s sleep.”
“Amen,” Esther said. “Besides, it don’t feel any different being free than it did when I ain’t free.”
“That’s because you always love us, Missy,” Tessie said. “We ain’t never been slaves in your eyes.”
“Or in God’s eyes, either,” Eli said. “Best way to celebrate is to thank Massa Jesus for what He done.” Caroline heard the powerful emotions in his voice. “It was the Lord’s mighty hand that delivered us out of slavery,” he said, “with Missy Caroline helping Him. Don’t any of you ever forget that. Make sure you tell little Isaac and all our other children and grandchildren. Pass it down through all generations. It was the Lord God who hear our groaning. He’s the One who set us free. And the Bible says that if the Son make us free, we be free indeed. And I say, Thank you, Massa Jesus! Amen!”
For the second morning in a row, Caroline was jolted awake at dawn, this time by someone pounding on her front door. Gilbert ran to open it. A moment later she heard Mr. St. John shouting, “Where are they? What have you done with my wife and daughter?”
Caroline hurried into the foyer. Soot