Defiant Hearts Page 16

  If she were the sole survivor of her family, Clarissa Carlisle had taught her how to support herself and given her the means to do so; and her family had taught her self-defense skills. If the worst occurred, she could fend for herself, unless a Union victory caused problems for her in Richmond. No matter, she intended to go home after the war, but could she run a plantation as well as she ran this hotel, especially if her manager was gone? Could she learn all she needed to know before she lost Greenbriar, if it still existed? Even so, she didn’t want to remain a spinster or continue in this line of work for the rest of her life. She wanted a home, children, love, and Jayce. Could she bear it if she lost her family, both of her properties, and the man with whom she wanted to share a future? That grim fate would be worse than being arrested for spying, and its inevitable aftermath of hanging or imprisonment.

  Two Confederate officers arrived to ask questions about Stu Clark and Ward Hill, but Laura was prepared for their visit and queries, and provided quick responses.

  “Neither gentleman checked out of the hotel, but my housekeeper discovered their beds weren’t slept in last night when she cleaned their rooms earlier. They ate dinner here at six and left about nine. They didn’t appear for breakfast, and I haven’t seen them this morning.”

  “We’d like to inspect their rooms, Miss Carlisle.”

  “Is there a problem, sir? I don’t like to invade my guests’ privacy unless you say it’s necessary.”

  “It’s necessary.”

  “As you wish.. Come with me.” She guided them to Room 1 and used a pass key to unlock the door. She remained near it as the officers made a thorough search, but found nothing belonging to Clark. She took them to Room 2, and it was the same for Ward. “I assumed they had been called back to their duties and failed to tell me, since they left nothing behind. I always collect payments in advance, so I knew they didn’t sneak off without paying their bill, but they didn’t turn in their keys. If you locate Mr. Clark and Mr. Hill, I would appreciate the return of my two keys.”

  “I’ll send a man over with them later.”

  Laura pretended confusion. “If you have my keys, sir, you know their whereabouts. Were they in an accident? Is that why they didn’t return last night and this morning?”

  “No, miss; they were arrested for crimes.”

  “Arrested? My guests are criminals? That’s terrible. Do you think it will soil the reputation of my establishment? It’s hard to earn a living during the war, and losing future guests because of a scandal could ruin me. I don’t mean to sound selfish, sir,” she added quickly, “but these are difficult times.”

  “I understand, Miss Carlisle. There’s no need to reveal they were staying here when news of their plot reaches the public’s attention.”

  “Plot?” she repeated in hopes of garnering information.

  The officer related how the men, plus their accomplices, had tried to kidnap the wives of several important military leaders last night, but their evil scheme had been thwarted. He told her six men were captured and were in prison awaiting judgment and punishment. “It appears these Yanks will do about anything to win this war. They bent real low this time.”

  “Yankees? Are you saying Mr. Clark and Mr. Hill are Yankees?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Union soldiers, the lot of them.”

  “Yankees were staying in my hotel and eating my food while they waited to carry out such horrendous crimes? But their accents, sir, they sounded like men from Arkansas; that’s where they said they were from.”

  “They were real clever; they didn’t do anything to arouse suspicions. They were in groups of two; others stayed at the Spotswood and Exchange, but we won’t mention any hotel names.”

  “I’m certain their proprietors will be just as grateful as I am for your kindness. I’m so happy you prevented such wickedness. I hope all of the ladies are safe.” After the man nodded, she asked, “Do you have any other questions? Is there anything else I can do to aid your investigation?”

  “That’s all, and I’ll send your keys over later today.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Laura heard loud and continuous clanging from the Bell Tower. She hurried to the front porch and looked in the direction of Capitol Square a few blocks away. Besides being used for announcing the hour, it served to warn residents of approaching peril and to summon the local defense units. She heard and saw men rushing toward the location in response, and was momentarily consumed by panic. She wondered if Richmond was under attack, though she had not been alerted to one by Ben as promised. Her initial thoughts—selfish ones she told herself later—concerned the safety of herself, friends, and business. If Richmond was captured and she exposed her Union loyalty and activities, she would be detested and ostracized by Southerners. If the Yankees didn’t believe her, she would be treated as one of the conquered enemies and her establishment could be confiscated. And, her trouble mind added, Jayce would discover her dark secret…

  Lily, Belle, Cleo, Mrs. Barton, and Alvus joined her, as all current guests were out of the hotel at that time.

  “What’s going on?” Lily was spokeswoman for the curious and anxious group.

  “I don’t know, but something important. Alvus, go see what you can learn and check on your family. Ladies,” she addressed the others as the man hurried off on his errand, “we should stay alert for danger.”

  “You think them Yankees are coming?” Belle asked in alarm.

  “I doubt it. Richmond is too strong to challenge. We have cannons guarding the river, forts guarding the town, and many soldiers here. They would be foolish to attack us.”

  “Yankees are fools,” Cleo remarked, frowning in disdain for them.

  Laura received shocking news when Alvus returned and brought along newspapers with him. General Ewell had called out the local defense troops and put the city on alert. Soldiers were manning the cannons and mortars at the river and at other sites, and big guns from the forts were aimed east and southeastward, primed for firing. Alvus and the papers reported that Union generals Hancock and Sheridan had crossed the Appomattox and James rivers and were marching toward the city! A battle had started at Deep Bottom Run, thirteen miles from the Confederate Capitol.

  Tension and fear ran high as the day and its events progressed, and news of the episodes filled the residents’ ears. Hancock and Sheridan were followed by Gibbon, Barlow, and Mott, with each corps riding for different targets. There were skirmishes on the New Market Road; a Confederate battery overlooking it fell into enemy hands. Yet, the sneaky advance lost its advantage of surprise when Rebel troops fired on them and held their ground in other places. There was give-and-take for the next few hours until things quietened down as a seeming stalemate occurred with opposing forces dug in for the night to await dawn’s return and renewed action.

  Special evening editions were put out by several newspapers. One’s headline read, “Yankees Attacking Richmond!” Another’s revealed, “Grant’s Heading For Town!” Another’s claimed, “Richmond Under Seige!”

  Laura realized that those dramatic—but premature, she felt—reports overshadowed articles about General Early’s attacks on more northern railroads and his success in luring Wright out of Washington to pursue him, which keep Wright from joining Grant’s forces on the march or at Petersburg. Heavy Union shelling was in progress at Charleston, a vital Union goal. Skirmishes were taking place in Florida, Arkansas, and North Carolina. Off the Alabama coast, Farragut was checking out Mobile Bay to threaten it with impending conquest.

  She read with interest and relief an article concerning the foiled plot by Hill, Clark, Thurmond, Foster, Mays, and Weed. She clipped it out to take to Ben so Grant could show it to Hancock. She also cut out other articles for Ben’s enlightenment and placed them in an envelope.

  One paper disclosed news that Lincoln had received urgent requests for more men to be sent to the Dakota Territory where the Sioux were on rampage. Similar requests came from the Arizona and New Mexico areas w
here Apaches and other tribes were doing the same, as well as remnants of Confederate troops. Laura hoped her uncle was safe but there was no way to get a letter to or from him; he was, after all, a Union officer.

  She went to bed that night after praying for Jayce’s survival and wondering if he was near or perhaps in the thick of the new action.

  Thursday was as momentous, tragic, and frightening as the day before it.

  Colonel Avery Deavers arrived for a strategy meeting with Davis and others at the War Department on Ninth Street, disclosing news about Petersburg and Deep Bottom as he registered and was shown to his room where he left his baggage and accompanied her down the hall.

  “It sounds ominous, Colonel Deavers,” Laura remarked as they reached the staircase.

  “It is, ma’am. Those bloody Yanks are striking at Chaffin’s Bluff, Deep Bottom, Richmond, and every inch of land in between. We got reports they plan to destroy the Virginia Central and Weldon railroads, so we have our boys guarding them like hawks. Grant don’t have us fooled; we know what he’s up to: diversionary operations to draw troops away from Petersburg and weaken Lee’s hold on her. But Grant’s sly as a weasel and smart as a whip; he knows General Lee will have to send troops to battle his, and the only ones close enough to respond in time are practically sitting in front of him.”

  She paused in her descent to look back at him and query, “But won’t that weaken Petersburg’s defenses too much?”

  “Not with General Lee heading up those left behind, and he’s got plenty of artillery to keep Grant at bay. Besides, he don’t have any choice; that sorry Sheridan, Hancock, and others have already thrust past the James. We got Kershaw trying to drive him back across the river and destroy their pontoon. Heth’s boys are in the Peninsula, and Anderson has his division at Deep Bottom. Even called ole Ewell back into action with this new ruckus at the Bluff. Don’t you worry none, ma’am; we’ll have those Yanks running for cover before dark. With God and luck on our side, maybe we’ll drive them clear out of Virginia this time. Afore Christmas comes, the entire South will be free of all Yanks. God save and bless the Confederacy.”

  “Have no doubts, Colonel, God is on the side of right and justice.”

  As Laura watched the smiling man depart, she shook her head in sadness at his delusions of victory, in particular, a swift one.

  “As he said, Miss Laura, don’t worry; our boys will roust the enemy before nightfall. Glorious victory will be ours soon.”

  Laura was startled to hear Frank Powell’s voice coming from the parlor. She hadn’t seen him return to the hotel, so he must have done so while she was upstairs. “Would you like me to fetch you a drink or snack, sir?”

  “No, thank you, and I apologize for frightening you. I’m afraid I have to check out and leave on urgent business in Alabama. My key,” he said as he reached her position and handed it to her.

  “Will you be returning soon? Do you need to make a reservation?”

  “Currently my plans are subject to rapid change, but I hope to return before too long. I do so enjoy my visits to Richmond and stays here.”

  “Thank you, and have a safe and successful journey.”

  Laura watched him pick up a bag near the front desk and walk out the door, whistling “Dixie” and swaggering like a man too full of himself. She pondered the puzzling man and his odd behavior. Why would he head home when Alabama was a hot spot at this period, when, to get there, he had to cross enemy lines several times? Perhaps he had lied to her and was going somewhere else. Once more she was filled with suspicions about him.

  At the dinner table that evening, Avery Deavers conversed with other men present and within Laura’s hearing range.

  “General Ewell pushed to New Market Road yesterday. He joined up with Wilcox and Kershaw and walloped those Yankees good. Sheridan got as far up as the Darbytown Road, but we held him there. Our line is so tight even a worm couldn’t wiggle through it, and so long we can’t be flanked. I was told Grant himself was on the scene yesterday; guess he got a big surprise when his boys couldn’t breach our line.”

  “We heard Hancock made camp at Malvern Hill; that ain’t far away.”

  The confident colonel replied to the local resident, “That’s true, but a man sitting on his rear isn’t fighting our boys, right? Every minute they delay, we get stronger. One thing’s for certain, those Yanks are on the defense, not the offense; our brave boys have seen to that. It’s safe to say, Grant and his forces made pivotal mistakes yesterday and today.”

  After a while, talk shifted to bad news elsewhere: Hood’s repulsion by Sherman at Ezra Church, Georgia, with heavy Rebel and terrain losses; and the Union’s continued bombardment of Fort Sumter in Charleston.

  Laura was dismayed that so many men were being slain, wounded, disabled for life, and captured on both sides. Property was being razed, people were being left homeless and in poverty, and beautiful land was being made desolate by explosions and fires. Terrible atrocities were being committed against innocents. The horrors of death and destruction were being impressed upon the minds of Richmond inhabitants as the war moved closer and became a greater reality. It had to end soon; it must.

  After telling Lily to stick as closely as possible to Colonel Deavers to see if she could learn anything new, Laura sneaked from her house to rendezvous with Benjamin Simmons. Informed of where the skirmishes were taking place, defense lines were drawn, troops were encamped, and forts were situated, she left Richmond by way of Manchester via a heavily wooded road that was rarely used. Fortunately it was deserted tonight, so she didn’t encounter any soldiers or civilians. Even so, she remained on alert for trouble, ready to hide at a moment’s notice. While en route, she checked out an old meeting site Clarissa had mentioned to her before the woman’s death, a spot northwest of Drewry’s Bluff and the James River. Assured it seemed safe, she sketched a map and continued her short journey to see Ben.

  The man was waiting for her when she arrived, a stolen Confederate hat in his grasp and a matching gray uniform on a stalwart physique. His dark hair was tousled and needed to be trimmed and combed. His beard and mustache also could use a clipping. Even so, his body and garments didn’t smell, which indicated both had been washed recently. To her, Ben was nice and well-mannered, and he was handsome, though not appealing to her in a romantic or sexual way.

  He smiled and said, “I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight with so much danger aboundin’ ever’where. Excuse my sorry condition; didn’t have time to tidy up before I jumped my horse to check on you. What’s up?”

  Laura’s words came in a rush to convey her suggestion. “Before we get started, I want to change our meeting time and place. How about seven o’clock on Thursdays? I’m running out of plausible excuses for being on the road so late. I was thinking about the place near Falling Creek where you and Aunt Clarissa used to meet; that way, I can get there and return home during daylight hours and use a less traveled road. If we miss each other with so much going on near town, we can leave messages in a hollow tree I marked on a map for you.” She handed it to him.

  Ben looked at it and agreed to her changes. “Any news for me?”

  Laura verbally reported all she had learned, but Ben already knew most of it. Yet, she did not betray anything Jayce had told her. She gave him the newspaper clippings she had collected, including one about the foiled kidnapping plot, which she discussed with him. She related that two of the men had stayed at her hotel, and soldiers had come to question her about them following the incident. She focused her gaze on him. “I have to tell you, Ben, that plot dismayed me greatly, and could have jeopardized my work for you if I or my hotel had fallen under suspicion.”

  Ben replied, “Grant and Hancock will be as mad as wet hens about this. I can promise you they didn’t authorize or agree to such a foul deed. It sure rubs me the wrong way. Grant will probably send word to Lee to let him know those men were.actin’ on their own. No use in rilin’ Lee for no good reason. You can bet Grant will ask ple
nty of questions about this and make sure it don’t happen again. He’ll be talkin’ with Lincoln in a few days. The President’s comin’ to Fort Monroe on Sunday.”

  They talked for ten more minutes about the current conflicts before they parted company. Ben rode southeast, and Laura headed home.

  She reached her destination without being halted or observed, to find Lily waiting up for her to make certain she returned safely. They chatted for a while before both retired to their beds.

  On Friday afternoon, Laura seated a sweaty, dusty, and tense young officer in the parlor who was anxious to see Colonel Deavers. Afterward, she sent Lily upstairs to fetch Colonel Deavers from the water closet where he was grooming himself following a long and wearying strategy conference. She sensed the young man had important news, so she had placed him in a corner position where they could have “privacy” and she could eavesdrop on their conversation. She hurried into the cellar to take her place, hoping the man would not move to another area. If he did, so would she, but during that time, she could miss crucial facts. She climbed atop a cluster of barrels, moved aside a fake board, and slipped her head into the lower section of the bookcase farthest from the parlor doorway. She peered through the small openings in an artistic design, knowing she could not be seen in the dark compartment. She saw the officer still sitting at the game table where she had guided him, and no other guests or patrons had arrived. She listened as the colonel entered the room and joined him.

  “What’s up, Melvin? You look terrible, son.”

  “We’ve got big trouble, sir. I was sent to fetch you.”

  “Now? Tonight? Why?”

  Laura saw Melvin nod after Deavers’ first two questions. He was rapping his knuckles on the table, shaking his legs, and sweating profusely.