Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [84]
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 assent, 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 Pawnee 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 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 leadership.
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 “Washington, 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 fashionable 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!”
“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