* * *
“There’s one thing for sure,” said Mr. Smith as he began to scrawl on the back of an envelope, “we can’t stay holed-up here for long.” He looked up at his son Joseph, flanked on either side by Ryan and Matthew. The boys nodded. The old warehouse, which had served Joseph well as a hiding place for days, would surely be searched again, now that Mr. Smith had escaped from the hospital.
“Now here are our choices as I see them,” explained Mr. Smith as he put his finger to the small, hand-drawn map. “We can head out to Port Royal Bridge road and try to make it to the Chicahominy Swamp. Once we get there, we could dodge any pursuers for days if we had to.”
“Are there a lot of troops guarding that road, Pa?” asked Joseph, trying to hide his nervousness.
“I reckon there aren’t a lot—at least that’s what I heard before the detectives raided our house and took me prisoner to the hospital. They don’t think the Federals are going to launch an assault from that area and they don’t figure anyone from the city would be foolhardy enough to try to escape through the swamp.”
“Foolhardy?” asked Ryan. “Why would people think it was foolhardy?”
“Well, a swamp’s a swamp,” answered Mr. Smith grimly. “As soon as you get off the main road, you can find yourself on some pretty treacherous ground.”
“So is that a bad way to go then?” asked Matthew timidly.
“Depends,” said Mr. Smith. “Not a lot of Confederate troops, but the ones that are out there will be keeping a sharp lookout for spies coming and going.”
“What are the other choices?” asked Ryan.
“There’s the Williamsburg Road and the Charles City Road,” replied Mr. Smith. “Both of them are going to have plenty of troops guarding them, but you get to miss the Chicahominy. But then of course there’s the White Oak Swamp if you choose the Charles City road.”
“I’ve heard that’s a terrible place, Pa,” said Joseph anxiously. “What if we get lost?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” said his father. “You can’t just go walking down the road, but you’ve got to stay close enough to the road that you don’t lose your sense of direction and just go wandering off in the swamp.”
“So is that the best route, Mr. Smith?” Matthew asked earnestly.
“No…” Mr. Smith paused. “I don’t think it is. If Joseph and I get caught heading toward the Yankee lines on one of those roads, it’ll be shoot first and ask questions later.”
“So what are you going to do?” asked Ryan anxiously.
“We’re not going to walk, that’s for sure,” answered Mr. Smith, his head nodding in affirmation. “We’re going to ride—right through the Confederate sentries. And they’re just going to stand there and wave at us.”
“Pa!” Joseph’s jaw dropped open. “What are you talkin’ about? How can we just ride by the Confederate troops?”
“Because,” explained Mr. Smith, cracking a narrow smile, “they’re going to think we’re a sutler’s wagon. They’re going to think we’ve come to sell foodstuffs to the troops in the field.”
“But Mr. Smith,” Ryan interjected quickly, “how are you going to get a sutler’s wagon?”
“It won’t be that difficult,” explained Mr. Smith. “I’ve seen two or three abandoned down by the docks. Several of the sutlers who used to service the army have abandoned Richmond as a lost cause in the last few months. The wagons aren’t in very good shape, but they ought to get us there. We’ve just got to fill one of them up with some empty boxes and barrels so it looks like we’ve actually got something to sell.”
“But where are you going to get a horse?” asked Matthew.
“Well, I’m not pleased to say it, but I’m going to have to break into some stables somewhere tonight and just take one,” said Mr. Smith sadly. “Not that there’ll be much to choose from. Hard to find a decent nag in anyone’s stables right now. But I’ve got my eye on a few places I might try.”
“Will they be expecting to see a black man driving the wagon? Especially with no white man present?” Ryan asked quietly.
“Well, I don’t know. I’m not too sure about that,” Mr. Smith admitted.
“Won’t you and Joseph get arrested the first time you’re spotted? Won’t they know you’re trying to escape?” Matthew asked anxiously.
“I know the plan isn’t perfect,” said Mr. Smith, “but it’s all I’ve been able to come up with. We’ve got to get out of Richmond somehow, and we’ve got to do it fast.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Ryan eagerly.
“I’m listening,” said Mr. Smith.
“They’re never going to let a sutler’s wagon with two black men in it through the Confederate lines. But there’s a good chance they’ll let a wagon through if there’s a white man holding the reins.”
“That’s as may be,” said Mr. Smith, rubbing his chin with his hand, “but what white man am I going to get to drive the wagon for me?”
“Me,” said Ryan quietly. “I’m going to do it.”
“That’s crazy talk!” exclaimed Mr. Smith. “I’m not going to have a boy risk his life in something as dangerous as this.”
“You two are risking your lives,” protested Ryan.
“We’re risking our lives in order to save them—it’s a different thing.” Mr. Smith paused. “It’s not that I’m not grateful. You two boys have been great friends with my son Joseph, and I already owe my life to you and your sister. But I won’t have any of you risking your lives again. The danger is just too great.”
“The danger isn’t that much,” said Ryan. “I’ll only go part way with you…enough to get you through the sentries at the edge of Richmond. Then I’ll turn around and hike back into town.”
“By yourself?” gasped Joseph. ‘You’ll be stopped by the soldiers!”
“Nah, they don’t care about people coming into town, only those trying to leave,” said Ryan, shrugging off the concern.
“Unless they think you’re a spy,” said Mr. Smith.
“They’ll be thinking I’m too young to be a Yankee spy,” Ryan said calmly.
“How about me?” asked Matthew eagerly. “Will I come back into town with you?”
Mr. Smith rolled his eyes heavenward. Ryan smiled at his little brother. “You’re going to have to stay home with Mother and Father and cover for me. Tell them I went to bed early because I wasn’t feeling well. But don’t let Mother come up and check on me. Tell her I’m already fast asleep.”
“Me?” I’ve got to stay home?” cried Matthew, clearly stung by the news. “Why? I can fight as well as any man!”
“If anyone of us has to fight, we’re done for,” explained Ryan coolly. “You heard Mr. Smith. Our only chance is to fool the sentries, and we can fool them much better if there are only three of us in the wagon.”
Matthew folded his arms against his chest indignantly. “I don’t know how you could leave me out of this,” he grumbled. “I’ve been in danger before and I’m just a brave as anyone else.”
“That’s not the point, Matthew. Of course you’re as brave as anyone else. But we need someone older to handle the wagon. And we need you to be at home. If we both try to sneak out tonight, neither of us will make it.”
“I don’t know what makes either of you think that I’m going to let you get mixed up in this,” said Mr. Smith, shaking his head firmly. “It’s just too dangerous to ask for help from anyone.”
“And it’s even more dangerous to try to do this on your own,” said Ryan, looking Mr. Smith directly in the face. “You know you’ve got to let me help. Because if you don’t, the both of you will end up in Castle Thunder…or worse.”