Glimmers of Change (71 page)

Abby nodded calmly. Then she stood. “I’ll be right back.” When she returned, Colonel Anderson was by her side.

“Anderson!” Matthew exclaimed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, relieved when the world remained steady.

Anderson stared at him for a long moment. Then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, he looked back at his sister-in-law. “Thank you for taking such good care of him.”

Abby smiled. “He was a delight. There was nothing wrong with him except severe dehydration and heat exhaustion. Once I got enough water in him, I knew he would be fine.”

Matthew smiled softly. The gift she had given him was far greater than liquid.

Abby’s eyes twinkled at him as she turned to leave the room. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Anderson sat down in the chair Abby had just abandoned, his eyes heavy with fatigue. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Matthew insisted. “What is happening out there?”

“It was a long night, but the city is under control. Martial law has been declared. General Baird appointed Major General Kautz as military governor.”

Matthew smiled slightly. “I wish I could have been there when Governor Monroe was removed from office.”

“It was satisfying,” Anderson revealed. “He protested, but he no longer has any legal authority in New Orleans.”

“Abby dodged my question about just how bad things were,” Matthew said quietly. When Anderson hesitated, he reached out and grabbed his arm. “I lived it,” Matthew said flatly. “I want to know.”

“Close to fifty dead, I think. We won’t know the final numbers for a while.”

“Wounded?”

Anderson shrugged. “Hundreds,” he said sadly. “But those are just the ones in the hospital. I have no idea how many are being cared for by friends or family. We may never know.”

Matthew absorbed the information. “The police?”

Anderson hesitated again but met his eyes squarely. “They did exactly what you said they would do…” His voice thickened as it trailed off. “They killed or beat as many blacks as they could find. They also attacked white Republicans who have vowed to stand with the blacks.” His eyes shifted away.

“But they’ll probably get away with it just like they did in Memphis,” Matthew snapped.

Anderson turned his eyes back. “I’ve already begun to hear their stories. They are blaming it on the blacks, saying they started it.”

“And so that gives them the right to slaughter unarmed men?” Matthew felt ill. The massacre had been bad enough. The reality that there would probably be no justice made it even more unbearable. He pushed away the feeling of futility trying to consume him. He could face what had happened with despair or hope. As difficult as it was, he had decided to choose hope.

“All of this is going to backfire on the South,” Anderson said firmly. “This is going to do nothing but increase the perception in the North that white southerners are determined to unleash a reign of terror on the freedmen.”

“It’s more than a
perception
,” Matthew growled.

“And as horrible as it is, I believe it is the wakeup call that was needed,” Anderson said thoughtfully. “The South has made it clear they have no intention of submitting to Yankee rule. It is clear they have refused to accept the verdict arrived at by four years of bloody war.”

Matthew considered his words. “The elections are coming up,” he added, feeling his first real spark of hope.

“Sentiment has already been turning away from President Johnson and the Democrats determined to follow his lead. People in the North have had all they are going to take. The elections will give absolute power to the Republicans. That is our only hope that things will change for the freedmen.”

Matthew considered his words. The elections were to be held in November. Would they really change things? He wanted to believe it, but his hold on hope was tentative at best.

Anderson watched him closely. “Are you going to stay in the city to write the stories the way you did in Memphis?”

Matthew considered the question carefully. He had been sure that he wouldn’t when he was hiding under the platform the day before. Abby’s gentle questions that had led him to renewed hope had also caused him to wonder if he should stay, but he slowly shook his head. “No. I have plenty of information to tell the story.” He took a deep breath, feeling a surge of freedom when he made his decision. He would tell the story, but it was time for him to leave. “I’m going to Philadelphia as soon as I can catch a train out of this lovely city.”

“I understand,” Anderson said gruffly. He reached into his pocket. “I stopped by your hotel room on the way here to get you a change of clothes. They gave me this letter.”

Matthew smiled when he saw Janie’s handwriting. He tore it open quickly and devoured the contents.

Dear Matthew,

Wonderful news! We have discovered we have a ten-day break from school starting on Wednesday, August 1. Carrie’s father has sent tickets for all of us to come home to the plantation. To say we are excited would be putting it very mildly! All of us are eager to get out of the city and breathe some real air. I don’t know when you are going to be leaving New Orleans, but if it is possible for you to get away to the plantation, it would be so wonderful to have you there!

Sincerely,

Janie

Matthew smiled and folded the letter.

“Good news?” Anderson asked.

“Very good news.” Matthew felt a surge of energy as his heart pounded with anticipation. He stood and reached for the clothing Anderson was holding. “I’m leaving today for Richmond. Then I’m going out to Cromwell Plantation.”

He was quite sure he would never return to New Orleans.

Thomas and Abby were waiting on the platform when Matthew swung from his train car. He hurried forward, surprised anyone had come to meet him. He had telegraphed of his arrival, but he had planned on walking up to the house as he was sure they would be working. His heart leapt with gladness as he waved at them. “What are you two doing here?”

Thomas hurried forward, his eyes dark with concern. “How are you, my boy?”

Matthew suddenly understood. “You heard about New Orleans?” He hadn’t had the heart to do any more than telegraph he was coming home.

“Colonel Anderson sent us a long telegram informing us what you have been through. We received it early this morning. I am so sorry.”

“Anderson sent you a telegram?” Matthew asked, reminded once again of just how good a friend he was. Abby stepped forward and silently wrapped her arms around him. Matthew sighed as her warmth spread through him.

“I know it was horrible,” she finally murmured.

Matthew didn’t bother to deny it. He finally stepped back, the ache in his heart not quite so searing. “When are the others arriving?”

Abby’s look said she understood he wasn’t ready to talk about it. “In about an hour.” Her face lit up with a glorious smile. “We are so excited to have them home. To have you home, too, is just the icing on the cake.”

“
All
of them are coming?”’

Abby laughed. “Yes. Elizabeth, Alice, and Florence can hardly wait to visit a real southern plantation.” She understood when Matthew hesitated. “Nothing has happened since the Fourth of July party. The vigilantes have not returned,” she assured him.

Matthew thought about the looks of hatred and cold purpose he had seen in New Orleans. “They will,” he said flatly. He hated his certainty, and he regretted the concern that erupted in Abby’s eyes, but it was best they be prepared.

Thomas frowned. “Perhaps, but I doubt they will do it when all of us are there. The vigilantes work under a cloak of secrecy. They are going to be less bold now that they know Moses is aware of their identity. They also prefer to prey on the weak — not armed men and women who know how to shoot a weapon,” he added grimly.

Matthew hoped he was right, but he doubted it. He would keep any more thoughts to himself though, because he knew Thomas wanted to alleviate Abby’s fears, and he wouldn’t want the girls to be afraid. He was quite certain the vigilantes would return, however. He had seen the results of wounded southern pride twice now.

He also knew how careful everyone was being. They couldn’t do more than that. It would benefit no one if they walked around in constant fear of what could happen. He glanced toward the carriage, taking note of the armed guard seated beside Spencer. “How’s Jeremy?”

“Both of his casts are off, and he’s working full-time again,” Abby replied. “He’s also marvelously in love with Marietta. Just watching them together makes me happy!”

Matthew grinned, glad to have something take his mind off what he had left behind in New Orleans. “Have they set a date for their wedding yet?”

Thomas nodded. “This Christmas. They have decided to marry on the plantation.”

Matthew’s grin spread. “The plantation is always spectacular at Christmas. It will be even more so this year.”

Thomas laughed. “I believe you’re right. I hear that plans are already being made out there.”

“Has Rose met Marietta yet?”

Abby shook her head. “Can you believe they haven’t? When Rose last came to Richmond, Marietta had been called away from the city. That is about to be rectified, however.”

“They’re coming to the plantation with us?” Matthew felt the knots of pain unloosen a little more. “We’re all going to be together?”

Abby nodded and pulled him toward the carriage. “We are!” Her eyes were shining with delight. “Let’s get you and your luggage home so Spencer and Howard can return for the girls. It will be a tight squeeze, but I believe they can all fit in.”

Matthew shook hands with both Spencer and Howard when they arrived at the carriage. There was no evidence of the attack on Spencer’s face, but his eyes held a shadow that hadn’t been there the last time he had seen him. Matthew understood all too well. Then he appraised Howard, liking the tall, lean man’s steady brown eyes. Matthew knew Howard had served as a Union soldier, relocating to Richmond after the war to be closer to his wife’s family. He wondered if the guard really understood what he was up against. He would talk to him later. The man was protecting people very precious to him.

Matthew listened as Abby chattered on the way to the house, covertly watching Howard. He was relieved when he realized the guard was constantly scanning the road, both in front and behind them. Howard responded to Spencer’s quiet comments, but he never relaxed his vigilance.

Abby walked with Matthew into the house while Thomas stayed behind to get his luggage. “Are you satisfied with Howard?” she asked quietly.

“He seems competent,” Matthew replied, his throat tightening when he walked into the house.

Abby read his face. “You weren’t certain you would see this again.”

Matthew took a deep breath, trying to keep his mind from going back to those terrifying hours in the Institute. In spite of his best efforts, Ralph’s blank eyes staring up at him from the stairwell covered with blood would not be held back. He shook his head, biting back a groan.

Abby pulled him into the parlor and pushed him down into a seat. “My dear boy,” she murmured.

Matthew managed a thin smile. Hearing Abby say
my dear boy
always had a soothing effect on him. He suspected, no matter how old he got, that it always would. He was aware when Thomas walked into the parlor, and then he watched as the carriage rattled off before he found his voice. “I’m done,” he announced.

Thomas settled down in the chair across from him. “Done with being a reporter?”

Matthew nodded. “I thought covering the war was terrible, but what is going on in our country now is worse.” He paused, trying to articulate what he had been thinking during his long train ride across the country. He had watched as mile after mile of the South rolled beneath the wheels, the constant humidity enfolding him in a smothering blanket. The only relief had been a thunderstorm in Alabama. It had relieved the cloying humidity, but it had done nothing to relieve his thoughts. “I had anticipated that rebuilding our country would be difficult, and I also expected racial tensions to be a reality, but…” He couldn’t control his shudder.