Beauty From Ashes (67 page)

Louisa’s overnight visit extended beyond three weeks before her daughter, Georgia Cole, appeared at the Fraser house bearing an urgent message from her father, Dix Fletcher.

“He’s pathetic, Mother,” Georgia said, holding her infant son, Daniel Webster

Cole, on her lap as they talked.

“Have you been out to see your father?”

“With this feisty boy demanding my attention almost every minute? No, but he made a brief business trip into town.”

“He’s a beautiful baby, Georgia, and I confess I’m both ashamed and relieved that you didn’t need me more than the two weeks I spent with you when he was born. Since you and little Webster are doing so well, I’m really grateful I can be here. Some days I fear my friend Anne Fraser may never come out of this strange world where she seems to live these days with her grief over John Couper. This ghastly, foolish war will leave its ugly scars well into the next century, mark my word. And Anne Fraser seems completely resigned to the fact that it will not only get worse for us here but will go on for another two years.”

“Why is she so sure of that?”

“Her beloved son, John Couper Fraser, made the prediction in a letter to Pete, probably written during his march to Gettysburg.”

“Oh, Mother, how dreadful for Mrs. Fraser

that he was killed!” Georgia held her 911 own infant son close. “The poor woman must spend hours remembering him as he was when he was Daniel’s age—all ages of his young life.”

Louisa sighed. “I know she spends most of her time deep in her own thoughts. Do you realize that except to refuse food or agree to just a little of this and that, she doesn’t speak to any of us?”

“What?”

“Never leaves her room. She bathes, allows Eve to arrange her hair, but except for a change of nightgowns, doesn’t dress at all. She’s—she’s retreated, I fear, into those devastating thoughts of her son.”

“I know I should go to her room for at least a courtesy visit. But I’m afraid of her grief. What would I say? And wouldn’t it only make matters worse if she saw my son? I’ve never known what to say to heartbroken people. To anyone—weeping.”

“She doesn’t weep. I wish she could,” Louisa said. “But she just lies there in her bed or sits in her little rocker and stares into space. Maybe you can visit her later. She won’t even have a real conversation with Eve right now, and those

two, you know, are far more than mistress and servant. They’re friends. Eve’s heart is broken, but she perseveres.”

“From what I’ve seen of Eve, I’m sure she does. Mama? Say you’ll go home to my father, please? He really is pathetic, not knowing which way to turn at this stage of settling the new house. He needs you to supervise putting up curtains, fitting slipcovers, arranging furniture. You know how helpless men are at all those things. Just be glad he’s at home waiting for you and not off trying to win this war single-handedly like Henry! I know you and Father both think Henry’s too old for me, but he’s so kind and generous with the children and me. He’s just away so much of the time these days. How I wish he hadn’t given up his civil engineering, but the man’s a truly dedicated American. The Union has no more loyal citizen than Henry.”

“I know that, Georgia, and my blessing on your marriage to him still holds. Your father simply wonders about some of his business tactics. Down deep, he admires the man as I do. But my dear, where does he go? Why is he away so much?”

“I have reason to believe my husband 913 has made at least one trip to the Federal lines at Chattanooga as a spy for the Yankees!”

“Do you know where Mr. Cole gets his information?”

“Yes. From James Johnson, the barber, the free person of color who not only cuts Henry’s hair and shaves him but does the same for Rebel General Braxton Bragg and who knows how many others of the enemy! I should be ashamed of myself, Mother, but I eavesdropped on Henry the last time Johnson shaved him. And what I overheard was Henry exulting because he thought, that day at least, that he’d caused the Rebels to fail at Chickamauga because he paid Johnson five hundred dollars to take word to Union headquarters that Rebel General James Longstreet and his men were on their way by train to reinforce General Bragg at Chickamauga. I guess Henry did save the Union forces some time with this news, but they retreated anyway back to Chattanooga. I don’t know, Mother, how anyone keeps all this straight, but I do know that at times my husband, as right as he is in his loyalties, seems determined to be a hero!”

Georgia’s son had begun to squirm and fuss, which meant their conversation was ending. “Oh, Daniel, darling,” Georgia said to the child, jiggling him on her lap. “I’m so glad you’re too young even to understand any of this horrible war talk!” She turned to her mother. “He’s getting so restless, I think you can see I’ll have to take him home, but what word shall I send to poor Father?”

“That I’ll have Big Boy take me back to Woodlawn tomorrow. But before you go, I need to know if the Rebels are still hauling and carrying beds and tables and other hospital necessities into poor Marietta’s main business buildings on or near the Square. I wonder, oh, how I wonder when they’re going to start bringing the poor wounded Rebel soldiers into town? I—I find I have a new sympathy for them. Everything’s gone far beyond whether our side—the Yankee forces— wins or loses since Anne’s handsome son, John Couper, was killed. He was a Rebel captain, you know.”

Georgia handed the infant to Louisa while she gathered his little cap and a rattle she’d brought along. “I know Miss Anne’s son was a Rebel. He always seemed so intelligent and

rational, too. I guess I’ll never 915 understand how fine men like John Couper can’t see that the South could never succeed as a separate nation.”

Mother and daughter embraced and Louisa kissed the baby. “I just keep praying that one day we’ll all understand the madness, Georgia. Assure your father I’m coming home sometime tomorrow. At least I have a head clear enough to put up curtains. Do visit Miss Anne when you can, my dear. She’s so, so heavy on my heart.”

“Didn’t you tell me her youngest daughter, Selina, is expecting a baby early in 1864? That could help Mrs. Fraser so much, I’d think.”

“Yes, Selina’s baby is due in late January or early February, and you’re right. It could help Anne some. Especially since Selina’s husband, George, told me just last week that if the child’s a boy, he’ll be named John Couper Fraser Stubinger, but they’re not telling Anne yet.”

The next day Louisa packed early so that she would have some time alone with Anne before Big Boy took her back to Woodlawn. Eve opened the

bedroom door when Louisa knocked.

“Oh, Miss Louisa!” The bright-skinned woman stood beaming in the doorway. “Come in, come in! Miss Anne, she so much better today. She almost like her old self again, even to fussin’ at me. She’s gettin’ strong! Just like Mausa John he told her she had to be. She done remembered her dream about him an’ we been talkin’ about it.”

“Yes, Louisa, come in,” Anne called from her little rocker by the window. “Eve’s right. I am strong today. Even though I know all the horror and suffering and confusion in our once quiet city, I think I understand so much more. So much more.”

Rushing to Anne’s side, Louisa said, “What splendid news, my dear friend. You couldn’t send me packing on a cheerier note. But what’s brought all this on?”

“She been writin’ a letter to her Rebel daughter, Fanny, this mornin’. I don’ know what she wrote, but whatever it were, it sure make Miss Anne stronger in her spirit. Can’t you feel it in this room, Miss Louisa?” Eve laughed. “Why, she even give me a good dressin’ down first thing when I come to help with her

bath. The water be too hot, then the 917 water be too cold, an’ ‘stead of mindin’, Eve like every word. It seem like old times.”

As though Eve had said nothing, there was a strange, almost expressionless look on Anne’s face, which Louisa did not understand. Eve was so happy that her mistress felt stronger and was asserting herself again, Anne’s peculiar, puzzling behavior appeared not to bother her at all. Of course, Louisa thought, Eve is probably just being wise in her way—a way no white woman, maybe even Anne, could truly understand.

“Eve’s right, Louisa,” Anne went on almost as though she were talking only to herself. “I am stronger. And there’s a reason for it. I’m just about to decide to dress and go out and lend a hand to my fellow Mariettans—Confederate sympathizers. Pete tells me so many people are leaving their homes here. Just packing everything they can squeeze into a wagon or carriage and leaving. The war is coming to Marietta, Louisa. And I’m also writing to poor Fanny. I haven’t written a line to the child since we found out that her brother was murdered by the war. Not a word. Pete wrote to her, of course. So did Selina, but not her mother.

Well, her mother is righting herself. And I’ll be ever so grateful if you never say one thing more to me about the value of the Union. I’m a Southerner, Louisa. I allowed Fanny Kemble Butler and you—and even my blessed husband, John—to cloud my thinking, but I’m stronger because I’m learning almost to—to hate everyone involved with making war! Or even taking sides …”

Louisa took several steps back, away from Anne’s little wooden rocker. “Anne Fraser! Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes and I include President Lincoln. Lincoln and all his kind. They thought they were going to take Eve away from me too! Well, you can see they didn’t. Eve and I are friends, and she will never, never leave me. She belongs to me. We’ll take care of each other until we both die. But it’s wonderful, Louisa, just simply wonderful to have the strength to think again about something besides my own heartbreak. Believe me, there’s strength in beginning to see the truth about everyone. To be able to use my mind enough to see at last that no one’s on the right side. Not the North, not the South. They’re all wrong. Let them write their pro-Unionist editorials, but I won’t be

reading them! I don’t intend to waste an 919 ounce of this new energy on taking sides. And maybe today I’ll even dress, and when Big Boy comes back from delivering you to Mr. Fletcher, I may have him drive me to the Women’s Center and begin to do my part. Confederate soldiers are sons and brothers, too, and they need bandages and underwear, and there’s always a need for refreshment when the troop trains come through. And anytime they’ll start bringing the Southern wounded into the hospitals now being prepared. And I’ll assist, but with God’s help I will not take sides with the North or the South.”

Louisa stood there staring at her, not knowing what to say next, except that she’d have to think over what Anne had just told her. “It is God’s way to love everyone on both sides, but I haven’t heard you say one thing about love, Anne.”

Anne looked almost startled. “You’re right, Louisa. I haven’t, have I? But I think the reason I haven’t is that I just don’t know anymore. I love you, my children, Eve. But beyond that, I just don’t know. Actually, I’m almost afraid to love anyone. I’ve loved so many people

in my life, and so many of them have died. It seems a lot simpler not to care one way or another.”

“I hear Big Boy’s buggy outside,” Louisa said. “I must go. According to Georgia, her father is in great distress without me.”

Anne reached her hand toward Louisa. “Forgive my outburst just when you have to leave, but I do thank you for staying with me so long in spite of poor Dix. I suppose he’s still as Unionist as ever, as I’m sure you are. Oh, why can’t I stay off that subject entirely? I guess I’m not as strong as I thought.”

“But at least you’re thinking again. My prayer for you is going to be that you will take no action on any of what you’re thinking until you’ve had time to talk a lot to God about all of it.”

“You don’t think I should dress and go to the Women’s Center and offer to help?”

“That’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself. You and God together.”

Anne reached to embrace Louisa. “Thank you for putting up with me for so long. And pray, please, that when Selina’s baby comes early in the new year, it will give me back a reason for living.” For a fleeting moment, Anne tried

to smile at herself and at what she’d just 921 said about not being on either side. “And will you also thank Dix for letting you stay away from home so long?”

“Of course,” Louisa said, kissing Anne’s forehead.

“And you mustn’t believe that I hate anyone on either side. I’m just not on either side anymore myself. The real answer is that I hate war more than ever in my long life. Louisa, dear friend, I’m just—so lost.”

Somehow the Christmas season came and passed. To Anne, the hardest part this year was the empty, hollow feeling she endured every time she realized that John Couper was gone forever. But doggedly she kept her composure and didn’t break down once, even when she remembered her own John’s beautiful voice singing “Silent Night.” For the first time since her son’s death, she found a way to smile when Selina recalled how funny her brother had looked with pillows stuffed into his trousers as, dressed to their image of Father Christmas, he handed out the gifts on that last

Christmas they had all spent together at Lawrence.

But the holy season vanished into the new year 1864. A few friends called house-to-house according to custom, and at night, alone in her bed, Anne tried to thank God for having come as a tiny baby that first long-ago Christmas in Bethlehem.

Louisa’s words came to her again and again, and as always, strength flowed from them: “Just think, Anne, Almighty God Himself bothered to come to earth to live among us—as one of us—to get into this mess right with us.”

When the dark, terrifying mystery of what might lie ahead in the new year grew too heavy to bear, Anne remembered her own words to Louisa: “And I do believe He came, not to discover how helpless we can feel as mere human beings—He already knew that—but, Louisa, I believe He came so that we, all of us, could be absolutely certain that He knows firsthand. God knows from having lived through His own human life on earth what it feels like to be us, in the midst of everything.”

Louisa had given her a big hug and told