The Sun Rises (Southern Legacy Book 4) (11 page)

His eyes said otherwise before she heard his words. “Josephine, I’m so sorry...this has been a horrible fiasco. The war department is quite disorganized. I fear you have gotten lost in the paperwork. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.” Glancing around the room, he went on, “These are totally unacceptable conditions.”

Madeline began to cry once more. Jo picked her up, but even her mother’s arms wouldn’t comfort her. Jo turned to him with pleading eyes. “There must be something you can do. Madeline is sick…sick! They aren’t feeding us. You...” Her voice rose higher to a fevered pitch. “You sent us here to die.”

“No, no. This was never supposed to happen,” he insisted. Pressing his lips together, he hesitated. “I need you to give me the children. They are coming for you. You are being taken to a military court to be charged formally.”

A wave of despair swept through Jo. She felt as if her voice was paralyzed, but she managed to utter, “But I have done nothing.”

“It is not what you have done, but what you know. I’m not deserting you, Josephine...” He dispensed with formalities. “We don’t have much time.”

She gave him a wrathful look, disbelieving the words she heard. Suddenly, her legs weakened and with Madeline in her arms, Jo collapsed to the floor. Immediately, Madeline screamed; Percival ran and hugged her. His small hands pushed back her disheveled, dirty hair, trying desperately to get hold of his distressed mother’s attention.

“They are taking you to Old Capitol Prison. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to prevent them. They are in all probability coming at this moment. But Cullen’s father is downstairs, waiting in a carriage with Cullen’s sister, Elizabeth. They came as soon as they heard. Mr. Smythe came for Percival, but insisted on Madeline as well. Prison is no place for children. I’m sorry. I can’t begin...”

For a moment, she digested it all in silence. She held her hand up. “Stop, please. I don’t want to hear it. Cullen...where is he?”

“At the moment, he is on assignment in the Gulf of Mexico.”

Jo nodded. She was given no more time as the door flung open. Her gaze focused on Jonathan Smythe. He had changed little, dressed immaculately. Hat in hand, his eyes met hers.

He said nothing, for he caught sight of Percival. Immediately, his face softened. He had no need to say the words out loud; she saw it in his eyes.

“They are on their way upstairs. We don’t have any more time.” Jonathan’s voice faded, as if apologetic for what he was about to do.

Jo drew in a deep breath and did as she always had and always would.

* * * *

Josephine straightened her gown the best she could before the soldiers arrived. The moment they entered with their weapons drawn, she was glad her children were no longer with her. She ignored the soldiers as long as she could. Through the dirty windowpane, she watched the carriage fade down the street. Her heart withered.

Voices carried around her. Someone jerked her to face the man barking the orders. She said nothing but stared blankly out in space. One of the soldiers reached down and grabbed her arm roughly. She jerked it back and slapped him.

He caught her hand. His eyes widened. “Looky, looky! Whatca’ got here!”

Her wedding ring…the emeralds…glittered in the light.

He reached for it. The ring slid off her shrunken finger.

Jo grabbed for it.

He expounded a god-awful laugh.

Struggling to regain her ring back against his brute strength, Jo reached up to his face and dug her nails into it, clawing down across his eyes.

The Yankee slapped her hard across her face.

She fell down and hit the corner of the dresser.

He kicked her with his heavy boots. He jerked her up by her hair. The taunts began. “Southern whore. Hussy.”

Defiantly, Josephine Montgomery raised her chin and held her head high. She would not cry and give them the satisfaction. Never! The Yankee scum! She wanted nothing more than to claw all their eyes out, but she hadn’t the strength. She hurt so badly…her babies were gone.

****

Cloaked in darkness, Josephine was transported to the Old Capitol Prison. Originally a tavern had stood upon the ground, along with a hotel. The prime location on First and A Street led Congress to build a temporary brick capitol after the British had burned down the old one during the War of 1812. Before the outbreak of the present conflict, the building had been converted into a private school, and then a boarding house.

The huge rectangular, three-story building sat intimidating to all who walked by, but inflicted fear into Jo’s heart. Her legs swayed upon her entrance into a long corridor.

“Take the wench back to the side, Louie. Ya know where the prostitutes go,” the guard at the door yelled.

“Calm down, Sammy. Ever seen the lot of us escort a whore? Commander Graham sent us. Got ourselves a Southern bitch!”

The voice faded as the door opened at the end of the corridor. An older officer emerged and gestured for the guards to bring her to him.

“Mrs. Montgomery, I’m Superintendent Wood. I have been instructed to place you within a cell and I must apologize…” His voice trailed off. He reached over and moved her face from one side to the other. His cheeks reddened and shook his head. Snapping his fingers at one of the sentries behind him, he ordered, “Miller, get her some decent clothes, water, and food. She looks as though the wind would blow her away. She is supposed to be in court in the morning. Who did this?”

Not privy to the heated exchange, Jo fell in step behind the sentry. Two others followed her. The cell was on the second floor. No sooner than the prisoners perceived her, than she heard obnoxious calls from men with Southern drawls coming from the cells she passed.

Their words were no better than the Yankees’, using the same coarse, vulgar expressions. She didn’t even know the meanings of some of the words, but there was no denying the implication they held, the vilest slang as if she was within a brothel.

At the end of the hall, Jo was placed in solitary confinement. She would learn later that her room lay in a unit with three other rooms that housed Confederate officers. The prison was filled to capacity.

The young sentry gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry none, Mrs. Montgomery. I can’t imagine they would hold you long. Don’t have many women here. Ya haven’t done nothing bad, have ya? From the look of you, can’t imagine you have. I’ll be back shortly.”

He closed the door and everything became black, blacker than night.

Her life had become a never-ending nightmare.

****

The morning came. Then two more days passed without word of what was transpiring. Jo had been able to wash and change her clothes, but she had no mirror to check on her appearance. Though, she could feel the huge bump on her cheek had lessened.

Superintendent Wood informed her that her hearing would be this afternoon.
No matter what happens, I will be strong and face this challenge as Wade did.

She had found little comfort in the quiet of her room. The small, quaint four walls at least kept her safe from the other prisoners. Superintendent Wood had allowed a brief note from Lieutenant McFadden stating Madeline was well. Her fever had broken. The children would be in Philadelphia before Christmas.

Christmas! Jo had forgotten about the holiday completely. It mattered little. She took heart that her children were safe for the time being.

Her cell held a tiny window. If she pushed the stool across the room, she could look out. It overlooked A Street and a view of the people of Washington, including the vulgar Yankee troops that moved back and forth along through the road. They had caught sight of her. Their behavior left her no choice but to withdraw from the window and its view.

Jo waited with trepidation, not knowing what awaited her. She told herself that her nightmare would soon end. She had done nothing, but her confidence faded the moment the knock came to signal the time had come. The thick door opened to expose the soldiers sent to escort her for her trial.

In silence, she was transported by carriage to a military building two blocks over. She made no protest but followed the guards to a small room. In front of her there was one large desk that faced two smaller ones. She was guided to the desk on the left. To her surprise, an officer sat at the table. Immediately, he rose at her appearance.

A man of average height, he straightened his uniform jacket while he pulled back a chair for her. He had fair hair and a pleasant smile, but his eyes were marred by dark circles. “I’m Lieutenant Joel Boyd. I will be serving as your lawyer at these proceedings.” He grimaced. “What have they done to you?” He reached for her.

She recoiled slightly. A sudden desire to weep encompassed her but Jo held her emotions.

He took her elbow. “Don’t be afraid of me, Mrs. Montgomery. I’m here to help you. My anger is not directed at you, but anyone who would treat a lady in this manner. I need to know exactly what has happened. Obviously, you have been beaten.”

Jo lowered her eyes. She wanted nothing from this man or anyone in a navy uniform. She didn’t answer his question. She asked only, “My children?”

“Lieutenant Hugh McFadden informed me they are quite happy and have been transported to Philadelphia to be cared for by your family there. You have no worries concerning them, but I am certain they miss their mother. Lieutenant McFadden will be in attendance this afternoon, which, in my opinion, will not take long.”

“They will let me go.” Jo’s voice faltered, hoping against all hope.

“That is my belief.” He tilted his head to the side to get a better look at her face. “Do you have any idea of the charges against you or what you face?”

She shook her head. She eased down into the chair as she gripped tightly to the table’s edge. “I only know I was forcibly taken from my home.”

“I have been told you are being charged with aiding and abetment of the South,” he said simply.

Confused, she asked, “Spying?”

“We will see what is their stance soon enough.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. Under his breath, Jo heard, “How the hell did Malcolm get in here?”

Jo turned and saw a man with a pad and pen in hand.
The press was covering her proceedings?
She looked back at Lieutenant Boyd.

In a moment of perplexity and confusion, she watched Lieutenant McFadden enter and take a seat behind her. She turned her gaze from him as a highly decorated officer entered from another door, followed by two other officers. He sat behind the large desk in front of her.

“General Gideon Benson,” Lieutenant Boyd whispered. “He is in charge of the hearing.”

General Benson quickly dismissed the reporter. “You will not come snooping into my hearing.”

The dismissal did little to alleviate a new fear Jo developed—that her name would be plastered on the headlines to further humiliate and disgrace her and the name she carried.

General Benson was an older gentleman with a head full of white hair. His hands, wrinkled and dried from the days that had come before, held papers that he read over quickly. He grimaced. “So, Lieutenant Boyd what do we have here?”

Jo’s shoulders straightened and her head tilted higher. She would hold to her dignity, if nothing else.

Lieutenant Boyd stood, taking an aggressive stance. “It is quite provoking to have one treated in the manner Mrs. Montgomery has obviously been treated. Taken from her home and her children. To what end does all this serve? She has done nothing wrong and we have treated her appallingly. To imprison a female in this manner is abominable.”

“Lieutenant, sit down. I will say what is proper,” General Benson exclaimed. He turned his attention to the one across the aisle from her, the prosecutor, a pompous arrogant sort. “Captain Johnson, you and I both know that she is not a spy. That charge is dropped.”

Captain Johnson stood. Not exceedingly good-looking, he was middle-aged with a pot belly and long pointed nose. Jo could feel his eyes burn into her. Then, the craven-hearted heathen pointed to her. “Do not be fooled by her appearance. The only defense she has is the sympathy card. Secretary Stanton himself has expressed concern about the situation in a letter you hold. According to the war act, we can hold her indefinitely because it is vital we do so for the betterment of the Union.”

Jo felt rage swell within her. Did he not realize that at any time over the last few days she could have given the information to numerous Confederate officers? She had more access to them in prison than she would ever on the street.

No matter whether they prided themselves that the rules were adhered to within the prison walls, the simple truth was that information passed freely. She had already been asked numerous times why she was confined. She had, as she had with the Union, given no answer. She had not even told them her name.

From the moment Andrew had sent her with McFadden, the life she had known was over. The quandary of the situation lay with the fact that if the information became common knowledge, she understood the consequences.

Jo was certain that Andrew would be executed if he wasn’t able to escape, but it wouldn’t only affect him, but the entire family, everyone…Jenna, Derek, Anna, Charlotte, and Mother Montgomery…even Grace Ann.