A week had passed since both Warren’s departure and Caroline’s overnight visit, and the weather throughout had been merciless. Returning from the hospital the oppressive air seemed to squeeze out whatever energy was left in me. And flies, more than ever, had become a terrible annoyance in the wards. The surgeons had trouble with their work because of them. As nurses, we did all we could to keep wounds covered and protected from the menace of the flies, but it seemed impossible to confront one more disgusting task. I couldn’t think for one moremoment about what I’d seen or done since early morning at the hospital yet the scenes kept repeating in my mind. Returning home meant that I could sit in the yard and watch the sun go down.
A light breeze was cooling off the day and I closed my eyes to breathe it in, exchanging hot air for cool. I relaxed, hearing the low songs of the women next door, a rhythmic chant from somewhere beside me.
I missed Warren completely, and it had only been a week. Just a week. I tried to outline his face in my memory, distinguishing his scent somewhere there. I recalled how he had mouthed the words, ‘I love you’ as he was leaving the kitchen. Memories of our late night discussions vividly returned. Just before he left, Warren had started to reveal to me his feelings about the war and his superiors. Though I never probed him for information I must admit, I never tried to stop him either. He told me about some of the big news as command and policy changed. And, he also confirmed the knowledge that was common in our small town: despite the fact that the Federals had been in the vicinity of Richmond for over eight weeks, it appeared that their forces were divided by the waters of the Chickahominy, and their collective spirits were waning.
“What do you think Warren, will General Lee be a formidable threat to General McClellan now that he’s in charge of Virginia’s army?” I’d asked him.
“General Lee will take great pride in running the Union out of Virginia,” Warren explained. “He’s really gotten behind his home state, though I know he doesn’t support the base causes of this war. After all, before the war he dismissed all the slaves he inherited and he didn’t even support succession. Just states’ rights.”
“Then what’s this all about?” I asked. “Do you support slavery or succession?” I had to know where he stood on that issue.
“Hell no, Annie. We never owned slaves and I find the institution backward. When I traveled through Europe with my father’s business, I knew we were considered less than sophisticated because our nation still supported slavery. I didn’t join out of some conviction to support slavery. I guess I support states’ rights though on the other hand, it may be greed that is driving the desire to secede.
States rights’ is another way of saying a states’ right to determine slave or free, I s’pose but for me, I didn’t live with slaves. I don’t support slavery, but I keep it to myself. I’m better off knowing what I believe in and keeping it to myself than be jailed for voicing my mind. I’m in it too deep so I do what I can for those boys, and trust me, I’ve seen some ugly battlegrounds.
Joining the war effort was a way to change my life and I followed my friends from West Point. For example, there’s Stuart. He’s quite a character. It’s not uncommon to see him taking a ride in his red cape and yellow sash, an ostrich plume dancing to one side of his hat,” Warren told me. “Even Lee,” he went on. “He was a Superintendent at West Point, you know. I can’t change my mind now. Those boys have little as it is. I’ve got to get food and supplies to them wherever they go. I can help there. What good would I be if I was locked up in a stinking jail?”
Right then, I saw a gaping difference between Warren and me. He hadn’t really thought this through. Our personal philosophies were as different on the inside as our politics were on the outside of things. But I’d found out something important, essential for us to even think about being together after all this madness ended: he was not fighting to support slavery.
“It won’t be long now,” he went on. “McClellan isn’t going to take Richmond if he hasn’t by now. Word has it that Lee is very optimistic. He’s got enough men to push ‘em back, even if the Union does outnumber them.”
He confirmed what I had come to know and passed up the line: Rebel troop counts were still inferior to Union.
Warren was on his way to seek out a new round of battles and to find ways to get all the necessary supplies to his men that he could muster.
***
Circumstances of that war were odd, even diabolical at times: when Warren got the call to head south, he also found find that Confederate Cavalry Commander JEB Stuart would be going up against McClellan’s Commander of the Cavalry, an officer by the name, Brigadier General Philip St. George Cooke; a man well-known to Stuart. You see, the Brigadier General for the Union was JEB Stuart’s father-in-law.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN