Spring Will Come (23 page)

             
“I’ve never seen anything so horrible,” Carrie stated.  “It breaks my heart to know Americans are mutilating other Americans.”

             
“Do I detect a lack of sympathy for our noble cause?”

             
Carrie paused.  She knew many Southern citizens had been jailed for their anti-war feelings.  “Let’s just say I’m very sorry there are powerful men willing to sacrifice the lives of so many fine men to fulfill their own selfish aims.”

             
Even in the darkness, she could see the surprise on the doctor’s face.  Maybe it was the shroud of night giving her such boldness.  More likely, it was because she was much too tired to care. 

             
“You’re a woman who speaks her mind, Miss Carrie Cromwell.”

             
“Guilty on all counts,” she said with a tired laugh.  Suddenly all she wanted was to go home.  “Now, if you don’t mind, Dr. Wild, if you are going to throw me off the hospital grounds and tell me never to come back, I wish you would go ahead and do it.”

             
This time Dr. Wild laughed out loud.  “Why would I do that?”

             
Carrie told him the story of what had happened that morning.

             
“And yet you still treated those men?”

             
“I couldn’t let them suffer any longer.  I decided I was willing to take the consequences.”

             
“Even if the consequence is moving to another ward?”

             
Carrie looked at him closely, but the darkness made his face indistinguishable.  “What are you talking about?”

             
Dr. Wild was all seriousness now.  “Miss Cromwell, this war is going to go on for a long time, I’m afraid.  The medical community is simply going to have to lose its distaste for women in medicine.  They’ll be forced to when there are no longer males to do the job.  I prefer to think of myself as a little more progressive than the rest of the men around me.  My years in the North helped give me that advantage.”  He paused.  “I intend to request you be moved into my ward.  I could use your help.”

             
Carrie sat silently, too stunned by this course of events to know what to say.

             
“You won’t, of course, be able to operate as a full doctor.  But you will find you have many liberties, while still working under my orders.  I believe there are a great many men operating as doctors who are a mockery to their profession.  I would welcome you as an addition to my staff.”

             
“Thank you,” Carrie finally stammered.

             
“You’ll do it then?”  Dr. Wild sounded relieved.

             
It was almost laughable to think she would turn down such an opportunity.  “I would love to, Dr. Wild.  Thank you,” she repeated. 

             
“Good!”  Dr. Wild exclaimed.  “By the way, how long has it been since you’ve taken a complete day off?”

             
Carrie shrugged.  “A few weeks I guess.  I haven’t really considered a day off important when so many are suffering.”

             
“Nonsense!  You can’t give your best when you’re completely drained.  I learned that a long time ago.  I don’t want to see you back here until day after tomorrow.  Now go home and get some rest.  You must be exhausted.”

             
Carrie knew just exactly how exhausted she was.  Every part of her body ached.  Yet none of it mattered now.  She was taking a giant step in pursuing her dream.  She had gambled and won - won something she had not even imagined. 

Carrie had not seen her father for two days when he burst through the door, excitement exploding on his face.  She had been asleep when he had come in for a few hours of sleep the night before.

              “It’s over!” he exclaimed.  “McClellan has been beaten back.  His whole army is in full retreat now.  Richmond is safe.”

             
“What grand news!” Carrie exclaimed. 

             
“How far are they from the city?” Janie asked from where she was lounging in a chair directly across from Carrie.

             
Thomas frowned at that question.  “McClellan has set up a base at Harrison Landing.”

             
“Harrison Landing?” Carrie asked.  She thought for a moment.  “That’s at Berkeley Plantation isn’t it?”  Her heart sank at the thought of what destruction over a hundred thousand men could wreak on the lovely plantation situated high on a hill overlooking the James River.

             
“I’m afraid so, Carrie.”

             
There was something in his voice that caused Carrie to look at him closely.  “Are you worried about home?”

             
“I would be foolish not to realize Cromwell Plantation may be harmed by the Federals.  They don’t seem to have much regard for property belonging to men in Confederate leadership.”  He paused, his voice bitter before he continued.  “Edmund Ruffin and I have not seen eye to eye for a while, but I would never wish on someone what has happened to his beloved plantation.”

             
“What are you talking about?” Carrie asked, remembering the secession rantings of their neighbor during the years leading up to the war.  He and her father had butted heads many times. Yet Ruffin had also been responsible for saving most tobacco crops in the area when he discovered the secret of the fertilizer marl.  She knew her father respected him.

             
“The Yankees have destroyed it,” Thomas replied grimly.  “His home has been burned, his trees cut - even his fences have been pulled up and burned.  But it’s what they have done to his fields that has hurt him the most.  The very fields he conducted agricultural experiments in that have benefitted countless farmers have been salted.”

             
“Salted?”  Janie gasped.  “Why, it will be years before they will be suitable for use again!  Are they doing that everywhere?”

             
“Thankfully, no,” Thomas replied grimly.  “At least not yet.  I’m sure the Yankees were well aware who that plantation belonged to.  I imagine it was their way of evening the score.”

             
“But why this Ruffin man?” Janie asked.

             
“He was a very outspoken secessionist,” Carrie replied.  “He also claims to have fired the first shot of the war.  Even at age seventy-eight, he is still eager to join the battle.”  She turned back to her father.  “Surely they won’t do the same thing to Cromwell.  You have no such notoriety.”

             
“I have long ago given up trying to guess what the Federals will do and what they won’t do.  I never thought they would actually invade our country to try to rob us of the freedom that is rightly ours.” 

             
Carrie gazed at her father and was saddened at the bitterness radiating from his voice and eyes.  Now was not the time to remind him the South had been robbing millions of slaves of the freedom rightfully theirs, for years.   She was learning that people found it very easy to only be concerned with the part of the picture they were intimately involved in.  The rest of the picture didn’t matter so much if it didn’t affect them directly.  “Our home is many miles from Berkeley.  The Union army has already stripped it of food.  Maybe they won’t even go near it.”  She paused, searching for a way to take her father’s mind off his home.  “What happened in the battle today?”  She immediately regretted the question when she saw his face darken.

             
“They fought at Malvern Hill today.  McClellan is indeed in full retreat, but I’m afraid the cost of victory has been incredibly high today.”

             
Carrie felt the familiar sickness tighten her stomach.

             
“How many?” Janie asked quietly, her voice reflecting the agony Carrie was feeling. 

             
“The Federals were firmly entrenched on Malvern Hill and fought hard to give the rest of the army time to retreat.  Our artillery was simply no match for theirs.”

             
“We heard the guns,” Carrie said.  “They seemed much louder today, yet I know the battle was not any closer.”

             
Thomas shook his head.  “You heard the Union gunboats joining in the fight.  Their immense guns make field artillery seem like nothing.  I heard men saying they were so loud they literally shook the water.”

             
“So how many?” Janie repeated quietly. 

             
“They were too entrenched,” Thomas said again, the pain evident in his voice.  “Lee’s attacks were cut down time and time again.”  He paused a long moment.  “There were over five thousand casualties.”

             
Carrie groaned and covered her face with her hands.   Five thousand men - dead, wounded, or missing.  The horror of it washed over her in waves.  Once again stark fear for Robert raised its head and mocked her earlier confidence.  She struggled to control the nausea clutching her throat.  Would this tug-of-war never end?

             
“And you call that a victory?” Janie asked in a strained voice.

             
Thomas shook his head again wearily.  “It can be counted as nothing but a defeat, but McClellan is still in full retreat.  I believe the danger is over.”

             
“Why is McClellan retreating if he won the battle?”

             
“I have no idea, Janie.  I can only theorize based on what I have heard.  McClellan never expected Lee to go on the defensive.  I believe Lee’s actions completely demoralized him.  He could no longer have the glorious victory he had envisioned for so long, so he decided to just give the whole thing up.”

             
“Do you think he’ll be back?” Carrie managed to ask.

             
“I don’t think the Union will give up its goal of taking Richmond, but I don’t believe it will be McClellan leading the army.  I have gotten my hands on enough Northern newspapers to realize President Lincoln, along with much of the North, is fed up with their general.  No, I think Richmond is safe for a time.”

             
Carrie stared out the window for a long minute.  “Do you realize the last seven days have cost the South almost twenty thousand men?” she asked quietly.  “Why, from what you have told me that is more than twenty percent of Lee’s entire army.”

             
Fatigue washed over Thomas’ face.  “The cost has been horrible,” he agreed.  “But for now, the city is safe,” he repeated. 

             
Carrie suddenly realized her father was hanging on for dear life to the one reality that gave him hope.  No matter what the cost, Richmond had been saved.  The dead would be buried, the wounded treated - and the South would fight on.  In order to continue the war, it was necessary to see the casualties as numbers - not as young men who would never return home to be fathers, husbands, and sons.   “I need some fresh air,” she said abruptly.

             
Rising from her chair, she hurried outside.  She could understand what her father was feeling, but it would never do anything more than sicken her.  She wished he would come spend a few days in the hospital.  Maybe then he would feel differently, yet somehow she doubted it.  It was impossible to live in Richmond and not be aware of the suffering.  The streets were crowded with the wounded, and stacks of dead soldiers lined the train platforms.    You had to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see the cost of the war. 

             
Carrie stared out into the darkness.  How did people become so immune to suffering?  How could any cause be worth what was being seen every day?  Slowly, an understanding crept into her heart.  The time for a quick ending to the war had long passed.  The same passions that had fueled the initial explosion might be waning, but the fire was pushing on, fed by the growing hatred and bitterness of a war that was not fitting anyone’s mold.  The war had taken on a life of its own - the people were simply being pulled along in its trail of fire - trying to survive in the charred remnants of its path.