House Divided (158 page)

There would be young folk enough to see Vesta and Rollin aboard the cars; so Cinda and Brett said their good-bys at home, and Vesta's warm hug and her grateful kiss told Cinda many happy things. Then they were away.

 

When they were gone, and Brett was gone, the big house was left an echoing emptiness. Cinda, except for Vesta's little Tommy and the servants, was alone; and life took hold of her and bound her to her tasks again. Now she must do what buying had to be done; and till she went to market she had not realized the prices she must pay. The wave of optimism after Grant gave up a direct assault on Richmond
had cut the price of flour from five hundred dollars a barrel to half that, but sugar was still ten dollars a pound.

“Don't give me coffee any more,” she told June, on the second morning. “As near as I can reckon, it costs us a dollar a cup, if we put sugar and cream in it.”

But June said no matter what it cost, if there was coffee in the house Cinda should have it. “Ain' no good tuh save hit,” she said scornfullv. “Hit don't git no cheaper, settin' in de can.”

In mid-July, Trav came for a Sunday in Richmond, and he and Enid took Cinda home from church to dine with them, and Cinda made him tell her all the news of General Longstreet and of Cousin Louisa. He and the General, Trav said, had come now from Augusta to Petersburg to see General Lee.

“Augusta? I thought he was in Lynchburg,” Cinda protested.

“No, only at first. We took him to Colonel Taylor's, and then on to Lynchburg on the cars.” Trav said in a nostalgic tone: “You know, that's beautiful country all the way from Orange Court House, not touched by the war. A broad, rolling, fertile valley, and big places as far as Charlottesville; and after you're through the mountains, there are some fine orchards around Amherst.”

“Oh, Travis, stop talking like a farmer! Tell me about Cousin Jeems. Where did he stay in Lynchburg?”

“With General Garland's mother. ‘Sister Caroline,' they call her.”

“I remember her at his wedding. She lives just a block or two from Judge Garland's, where Cousin Jeems and Louisa were married. Mrs. Samuel Garland?”

“No.” Trav shook his head. “No, Mrs. Samuel Garland is ‘Sister Mary,' ‘Sister Caroline' is Mrs. Maurice Garland.” With that careful precision which was his habit, he explained: “Judge Garland's house is at the head of Madison Street, with that steep hill running down to Blackwater Creek behind the house. Then on one side of Madison Street there's Grandma Slaughter's house, and then a steep field they call Aunt Mary's cow lot; and on the other side Charles Slaughter's lot runs from First to Second Street. Mr. Slaughter married Mary Garland. Major Latrobe was wounded in the thigh the day before Longstreet was hurt, and we took him to Lynchburg, too. He was at Mr. Jack Slaughter's. Then Dr. Murrell lives at the corner of Second
and Madison, and ‘Sister Mary' on the corner of Third and Madison. But ‘Sister Caroline' lives further along, between Third and Fourth.”

Cinda laughed. “No wonder it's hard to keep them straight! Was Cousin Louisa there when Cousin Jeems got there?”

“No, she was in Augusta when she heard he was wounded. She left Garland and the baby in Augusta and started for Lynchburg. The cars were so crowded and so slow that she came all the way by horse and buggy, travelling day and night, never knowing whether he was still alive.”

“Poor thing!”

“She had a hard time,” he agreed. “But by the time she got to Lynchburg, the General was out of danger.”

“Why did she take the General all the way down to Augusta?”

“Oh, that was our idea, Captain Goree's and mine. Even before General Hunter's raid, we'd decided General Longstreet needed more quiet. He was pretty miserable, lots of pain, and mighty nervous. The first two or three weeks after he was hurt, he could hardly talk without having tears come into his eyes. He said to me one day: ‘Damn it, Currain, why should a bullet through a man make a baby of him?' But you know everybody on Garland Hill is kinfolks—cousins and aunts and uncles and in-laws.”

“I know.”

“Well, then you can imagine all the visiting back and forth; and of course everyone wanted to pay their respects to the General; and we finally decided he'd be better off in the country, so we took him out to Colonel Jack Alexander's.”

“In Rustburg?”

“Yes, out ten or twelve miles. Locust Grove, his place is called. He has about a thousand acres of land. The house is on a knoll beside the road just before you come to the Campbell County Court House. It's brick, two stories and a full basement and a full attic. The walls are a foot and a half thick, so it's always cool; and there are four windows in each room, so you always get a breeze. You look across the valley toward Lynchburg and the mountains; and the valley's level and all under the plow. There's a summer dining room in the basement, with soapstone tiles for a floor that make it seem cool on the hottest day. General Longstreet had a bed room in the house; but Goree and I had
a room in a building in the front yard that used to be the County Clerk's office. It was a mighty comfortable home; plenty of servants, three children, fine gardens and fruit trees and stables.” He smiled. “They named a colt after Longstreet while we were there. The General was a lot more comfortable, with not so many callers. But then General Hunter headed toward Lynchburg, and we thought he might send some cavalry to seize the General, so we decided he'd be safer in Lynchburg, especially if no one knew where he was. So Mrs. Olivia Page, Colonel Alexander's sister—–”

“I thought it was Octavia who married Edwin Page.”

“No, Olivia. She drove out to Rustburg as if she were just paying a call, and while she was indoors I sent her coachman on an errand, and Captain Goree and I helped the General into the carriage. He got down between the seats with a shawl thrown over him—–”

Enid and the children had been listening in silent attention, but Lucy laughed at the picture Trav's words evoked. “Papa, I can't imagine General Longstreet hiding under a shawl. That big man!”

“Well, he did,” Trav smilingly assured her. “Not even the coachman knew he was there. Then Mrs. Page came out of the house and got in and drove back to Lynchburg and smuggled the General into her home.”

“Did Cousin Louisa go with him?” Cinda asked.

“No, she stayed with us at Colonel Alexander's, letting on the General was still there.”

“That must have been an exciting adventure for Mrs. Page,” Cinda commented.

“I reckon it didn't worry her.”

Enid said: “Oh Trav, tell Cinda what General Lee said to her.” Cinda was surprised. Enid often belittled Trav, or sought to silence him, but Cinda had never heard her thus prompt him while he held the centre of the stage. Perhaps the little idiot was coming to her senses. Trav at the suggestion chuckled and said:

“Why, General Lee told Mrs. Page it needed three salvos of Yankees artillery fire to rouse General Longstreet, but that once roused he was terrible.”

Cinda colored with loyal resentment. “Nonsense! Do you think General Lee really said that, Travis?”

“I wouldn't be surprised. It's certainly true. General Longstreet is slow getting started, but once in a fight no one fights harder.”

Cinda made an impatient gesture. “But Travis, after General Hunter was driven off, you didn't have to leave Lynchburg, did you? Or are they as pinched for food as we are?”

“No, there's food enough; but of course prices are high. Sister Caroline's son, General Garland; the one who was killed at South Mountain, left his mother a hundred and fifty thousand dollars; but his estate has shrunk so much that her income last year was only about two thousand.”

Cinda smiled. “I think it's about time you stopped being so interested in figures, Travis. They're mighty depressing, nowadays.”

Trav grinned awkwardly. “I suppose so, but I always think that way. No, she wanted the General and Mrs. Longstreet to stay. You know her son commanded the Eleventh Virginia in Longstreet's brigade at Manassas three years ago, and she and Longstreet talked about him for hours on end. But Mrs. Longstreet wanted to get back to the children, and after General Hunter was driven off, we thought the General would be safer farther south; so he asked Secretary Seddon's permission to go to Georgia. He was still pretty weak, but we stopped over at Danville with Mr. Estes and let the General rest a day or two. Augusta's a beautiful town; wide streets with rows of trees down each side, and a double row down the middle, and flowers everywhere, and no signs of war, except that the arsenal is busy and the powder mills. But there are lots of fine carriages on the streets, and the ladies' dresses are mighty handsome.”

“Who is Cousin Jeems visiting there?”

“At first he stayed at Sunnyside, the Carmichael plantation, about six miles out along the Savannah road. His cousin Elizabeth Eve Longstreet from Richmond County married Anderson Carmichael. Dr. Eve took care of the General, and Mrs. Carmichael and Mrs. Longstreet nursed him. But now he's with another cousin, Mrs. Sibley. She was Emma Eve Longstreet. She had a son born last summer, and she named the baby after the General.”

“Is he getting along all right?”

“Slowly, yes. The bullet paralyzed his right arm, so he can't use it; but he's learning to write with his left hand, and the doctor told him
to keep pulling at his right arm to give it exercise. Yes, he's getting better, but he worries. That's why he came to talk with General Lee. He says Grant has Richmond under siege, and that there can be only one end to that.”

“We hear no such talk in Richmond,” Cinda declared. “Everybody thinks Grant is whipped, just the way McClellan was two years ago.”

“Grant's not McClellan. Longstreet says Grant will never retreat, and that every move he makes will bring nearer the day Richmond has to be given up.”

Cinda said in a dry tone: “Richmond doesn't seem to think so. Life here is just one long celebration; parties, dances, the streets full of able-bodied young clerks in clothes much too good for their salaries. I'm not sure whether people are lost in a fools' paradise, or just recklessly ready for any extravagance.”

Enid said, with an echo of her familiar querulous tone: “I declare, Travis, if you think Richmond's in danger, I should think you'd want to take Lucy and Peter and me somewhere where we'd be safe.”

Lucy urged: “Now Mama, Papa will take care of us. He always does.”

Enid shrugged. “Leaving us here where we can't even get enough to eat? He says there's plenty to eat in Georgia.”

Trav said soberly: “I thought you'd rather stay here, Enid; be in your own home.”

“It's not much of a home with no husband! You know I'd rather be with you, Trav.” Her tone, to Cinda's astonishment, was almost tender.

“Why—if you want to go, I'll take you to Augusta.” But he spoke so reluctantly that even Cinda thought him unkind, and Enid colored resentfully.

“Oh, I certainly don't want to traipse around all over creation after you if you don't want me!”

Cinda took a hand. “Why don't you go, Enid? I expect you'd be a lot more comfortable there, and you'd see more of Travis.”

“Oh, if I were there he'd probably spend all his time somewhere else.”

Trav said uncertainly: “Well—I'm leaving in the morning.”

“You know perfectly well I can't get ready so soon!”

Lucy cried: “Oh, Mama, yes we can. I'll help!” But Enid waited for Trav to speak again, and when he did not do so, she said:

“I wouldn't know a soul in Augusta. I'd probably be miserable there. Unless you want me, Trav.”

“Of course he wants you!” Cinda assured her. “Don't you, Travis?” She said impatiently: “Speak up, for once, can't you?”

“Why, yes,” he said. “Yes, Enid, I hope you'll come.”

 

When this was settled, Enid called old April and she and Lucy went to begin the pleasant flurry of packing. Trav walked back to Fifth Street with Cinda. He was so abstracted that she supposed he had misgivings about this removal to Augusta, and she sought to beguile him to talk. “Is Cousin Jeems really discouraged? They say General Early's marching down the Valley now to invade the North. Won't that do some good?”

“Well, Longstreet thinks if we can hold out till November, President Lincoln may be defeated.” But he spoke so absently that Cinda looked at him in sudden foreboding; and he said: “I wanted to tell you, Cinda. I didn't tell Enid; but I've been to Martinston. I went really to see Ed Blandy, but I saw Tony too. Cinda, Darrell's dead.”

She thought her heart missed its beat. “Oh, Trav! Really?”

“Yes. But Tilda had better not know.”

“Why not, Travis?”

“Well, it was pretty ugly. Some bushwhackers killed him for shooting Mrs. Blandy.” She could not speak, holding to his arm, supporting herself; and he told her he had gone to Martinston from Augusta. Ed Blandy, except for an unnatural cheerfulness, had at first seemed to be all right; but after telling Trav about Darrell's death, he began to cackle with hysterical mirth. “Then his little boy, Eddie, the one who shot Tony, said I'd better leave him alone,” Trav explained. “He said if Ed gets too excited he's that way for days, just crazy.”

“Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. That was hard for you! But if Mr. Blandy is that way, perhaps it isn't true about Darrell.”

“Yes, it's true. Tony told me the whole thing. Ed tried to save Darrell, and Jeremy Blackstone hit him on the head, and Ed's never been himself since.”

“But couldn't Tony do something? I despised Darrell, but—couldn't Tony stop them?”

Trav shook his head. “He was still weak from his wound, and there were a dozen of these men.”

She nodded. “I hope Tilda never knows.”