Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [77]
“Please don’t go to war, Charles.”
I have to,” he said softly. “I have to stand up for what I believe.”
I lowered my head and closed my eyes as my tears began to flow. Charles gently took my face in his hand and lifted my chin. “Caroline, look at me . . . Remember the day we first met, how you clubbed me with your bag? I was much bigger and stronger than you were, but you believed that I was wrong to chase that boy, and you decided to stand up for what you believed. You must have known you couldn’t possibly defeat me in a brawl, didn’t you? But you had to do something, you had to try. It’s the same with this war. We have to try. Besides,” he added, smiling slightly, “you did win the war, Caroline. You won my heart, my love . . . my life. Who knows, maybe the South will win, too.”
I clung to Charles on that park bench in Capitol Square, not caring if it was improper, my face pressed tightly against his chest. He held me, gently rocking me, as cannon fire and church bells and Roman candles filled the night with noise, drowning out the comforting sound of his heartbeat.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I wept.
“You can’t lose me, Caroline. I’m yours forever.”
By the time Jonathan and I returned home it was late. It didn’t take much to convince him to spend the night in our guest room. I found Tessie waiting in my room with a lamp lit to help me undress.
“What’s all the noise and carrying-on about this time?” she asked as she unpinned my hair.
“Virginia has left the Union. We’re going to war against the Northern states.”
“They celebrating that?”
I nodded wearily as she ran the brush through my hair.
“I think you’ve had enough of this here celebrating,” she said, pointing to the mirror. “See how pale you are? You all worn out. Look like they dragged you down Franklin Street behind a team of horses.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Charles is going to fight.”
The brush froze in Tessie’s hand. “You mean in the war? What about your wedding?”
“I don’t know.”
She bent over me to hold me in her arms. I allowed her to soothe me for a minute, then I gently pulled away. “Josiah is here,” I told her. “He and Jonathan are spending the night. I think you should go be with your husband.”
For a moment she looked taken aback. “Well . . . we’ll see about that later. Let me get you tucked away in bed, first.”
“No, you go now, Tessie. Time is much too precious to waste. I’m a grown woman. I can get undressed by myself.”
“You sure?”
“He’s your husband. You belong with him.”
I stood at my bedroom window after Tessie left, gazing outside into the night. A light shone from the carriage house and I knew that Eli was inside, taking care of Jonathan’s horses. I watched him passing back and forth in front of the window as he worked, barely visible through the veil of new leaves and tree branches, and I felt the same helpless anger I’d felt the night I’d seen Josiah waiting for us on the carriage seat. He and Eli were grown men, human beings, with lives that didn’t deserve to be wasted on someone else’s whim.
I thought I understood how they must feel. I had also lost control over my life, my future. I was forced to submit to a war I neither believed in nor wanted, powerless to act while others decided my fate. Charles could go to war, fight for control, take action to win back the freedom he felt was being stolen from him. But the war could rob me of my wedding day, my husband, my tranquil future in Richmond, Virginia—and like Eli and Josiah, I could do nothing about it. We could only stand by and wait.
I hadn’t changed out of my dress yet, so I slipped my shoes back on and went outside to talk to Eli. He was scooping feed into the trough for the horses, but he stopped when he saw me and ambled over to where I stood.
“I hear there’s big news going around. They talking about a war.”
“It has already started. Charles told me tonight that he’s going to fight in it.”
“He’s a good man, Missy Caroline. Your Massa Charles a real good