Rhett Butler's people (32 page)

"Look here, Butler. I find your manner very nearly offensive."

"My apologies. You were Andrew's adjutant...."

"You knew Andrew Ravanel in Charleston?"

"We were school chums. There was a time I would have done anything for Andrew. Your complaint?"

Ashley said, "Colonel Ravanel is no gentleman."

"Andrew had his own doubts about that."

Ashley looked down at his hands. "Very well, then. If you must know. We'd been raiding and it hadn't gone well. Our brigade crossed the Licking River into Cynthiania, Kentucky, which was safely Confederate. Children ran beside us, shouting, 'Ravanel! It's Colonel Ravanel.' Women waved, but even Andrew was too tired to respond. He was in one of his moods, so Henry Kershaw took charge. Captain Kershaw billeted us officers in town. The color sergeant bivouacked the brigade west of town.

"Henry didn't set out pickets and we were abed when Federal cavalry struck at dawn. Andrew and I fled in our nightshirts. Did you know Henry Kershaw? That loudmouthed, drunken bully?"

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"You are too kind to Henry."

"Henry didn't run. Henry Kershaw snatched up Ravanel's plumed hat and strode onto the street, pistol in hand, buck naked except for the hat, screaming that he was, by God, Colonel Ravanel and damned if he'd run from damn Yankees! Henry got off a shot before they killed him. A company of green Federal cavalry, just a foraging party who'd stumbled on us by chance."

Ashley Wilkes continued: "The brigade heard the shooting and were already mounted when we reached them. Colonel Ravanel was livid.

"The Federals never dreamed we'd counterattack. They were looting the town. One unlucky corporal was dragging a hall clock taller than he was. They didn't put up much fight.

"Their captain was wearing Andrew's hat. He hadn't had the wit to discard it. When he tried to give it back to Andrew, Andrew refused. 'Why sir, the hat's yours. A trophy of your gallant action.'

"We dressed Henry Kershaw and laid him in a mule cart. Andrew commanded our prisoners to follow and he adjusted the traces so the Federal captain could pull the cart. 'Henry would have wanted it. Surely you wouldn't deny the man you murdered this final courtesy

"When the Federal faltered, Colonel Ravanel lashed him as he might have lashed a mule, and when we reached the graveyard, the man crumpled to his knees. Again, Andrew refused to accept his hat. 'No, sir. You killed a man for that hat and it's yours. It'll be something your grandchildren can boast about. Now, you wouldn't leave Henry unburied, would your

Ashley continued, "After he dug the grave, the man collapsed beside it while Andrew Ravanel read the burial service. Then Andrew turned to the captain, 'You dug the grave big enough for two.' "

Ashley said, "Before our men and his, the officer got down on his knees, clutching at Andrew's legs and begging for his life."

Rhett Butler pursed his lips. "Andrew never did know what he was doing until it was mostly done."

Ashley's eyes were haunted. "Andrew laughed at the man. 'Give me back my hat,' he said, 'It doesn't look right on a coward.'

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"We left that officer with the soldiers he had commanded." Ashley paused. "In the past, I have admired wit as an ornament. I had not dreamed it could be so ugly."

"Truth beauty, beauty truth, eh, Major?" Rhett Butler said. He rose to go. "I do admire your yellow silk sash. I can sense the love in it. My best compliments to your wife."

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Chapter

Chapter Twenty

A

River

of

Blood

Nominated for a second term, Abraham Lincoln said, "I do not allow myself to suppose that the delegates have decided that I am either the greatest or best man in America, but rather that it is not best to swap horses while crossing the river...."

It was a river of blood. On May 8, in the fourth year of the War, Ulysses S. Grant began his spring offensive. By June, Grant had lost sixty thousand men. At Cold Harbor, he lost seven thousand in eight minutes.

In the west, General Sherman was moving on Atlanta. General Johnston's outnumbered Confederates beat off Sherman's attacks at Dalton, Resaca, and Pickett's Mill, but after each victory, the Confederates were outflanked and forced to abandon their positions because the Federals threatened their supply lines. Reacting to jibes that he wasn't a fighting general, Sherman fought a stand-up battle at Kennesaw Mountain. Three thousand dead Federals later, Sherman knew War is Hell.

When she learned that Ashley was missing in action, the very pregnant Melanie Wilkes fainted dead away. She begged Rhett to learn what he could. Some who'd been West Point cadets with Rhett Butler were now Federal generals, and from one of these, Rhett learned that Major Wilkes was alive, a prisoner in the Rock Island Prison Camp.

On July 12, 1864, surrounded by his cheering officers, William T. Sherman stood on a hilltop six miles north of Atlanta.

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After months of Federal bombardment, Charleston was no longer a beautiful city. Streets perpendicular to the Federal guns had been hit hardest when shells penetrated roofs and exploded inside, collapsing house walls into the street. Fennel grew waist-high in abandoned gardens and loose cows grazed on Meeting Street. Broken glass glistened between cobblestones, dusted fence railings, and sheeted the walkways like frozen rain.

Although the next house was a ruin, thus far 46 Church Street had been spared. John Haynes refused to leave. He told Rosemary, "Go if you must. You will be safer in the north of town." Talking to John was like trying to drag a ghost back into the world of the living.

By July, the Federal blockade of Charleston harbor was complete and the last die-hard blockade runner was forced aground on Rattlesnake Shoal. The speculators vanished. Haynes & Sons ships rotted at the wharf and spiders spun webs in the windows of its empty warehouse.

Through the long daylight hours, John Haynes sat on his daughter's bed, staring at nothing. At night, he walked the city amid the incendiaries, the toppling walls, and Charleston's beleaguered fire companies.

Rosemary spent her days at the newly established Free Market, distributing food to Charleston's soldiers' families. Monday: yams. Tuesday: cornmeal. Okra on Wednesday. Shy children clung to their mothers' skirts. From time to time, some child would do or say or stand or smile as Meg might have, and Rosemary's heart broke afresh.

On Sunday, the Free Market was closed. Although John no longer attended services, Rosemary went faithfully, praying God would tell her why He had taken her child. After the service, she walked uptown -- the Fishers' East Bay mansion had been shelled and Charlotte and Juliet were renting a small house north of the Shell District.

Their forced intimacy and Charlotte's difficult confinement had challenged Juliet's domestic skills and Charlotte's natural cheerfulness.

Charlotte wrote daily to her imprisoned husband. She entrusted some letters to the mail, some to private couriers. Charlotte Fisher Ravanel had important connections, and some letters had been hand-carried by prisoner-exchange commissioners. She wrote Andrew about their move, describing

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their cottage as "snug as a doll's house" and "surpassingly comfortable." She reported her unshakable certainty that Andrew Ravanel was to have a son. Charlotte never mentioned the doctor's unease, nor the agonizing pains that shot through her abdomen. Charlotte signed her letters "Your dear little wife, your loving spouse, I miss you so much! Praying for your return, I am ...

Charlotte had yet to receive a reply.

Juliet said, "Andrew? A letter writer? Lord no. I don't recall Andrew ever writing a letter."

"But dear Sister, he must know how precious his words would be?"

"Perhaps Andrew's letters are confiscated," Juliet suggested.

"Jamie's letters get through."

Jamie Fisher wrote detailed accounts of their bored jailers and the prisoners' pranks. When he warned of Andrew's deepening melancholy, Charlotte wrote, "Dearest husband, Your forced inactivity invites despondency. Please take regular exercise! Men of passionate dispositions (like yourself, dear) must exercise every day. When you are outdoors, turn your face to the sun. Sunlight strengthens the pineal gland!"

Although her letters to her husband were uniformly cheerful, Charlotte let herself complain to Juliet. "We were happier than we'd ever been. Why did Andrew raid into Ohio?" Charlotte pressed her hands into her back. "Sometimes I think I am carrying a pachyderm instead of a son. Juliet, why are men so cruel to those who love them?"

"I am sure I don't know," Juliet said with her old asperity. "Were we spinsters better at gauging men's hearts, we would not be spinsters."

On a steaming hot August morning, after Charlotte Ravanel had been in unsuccessful labor for forty-eight hours, Rosemary Haynes laid her ear against her friend's distended abdomen. Straightening, she gave Juliet the tiniest nod: no, no heartbeat.

Juliet said, "The doctor is dozing in the kitchen. I'll fetch him."

"Oh dear friend, please don't bother the poor man," Charlotte whispered. "Tarry awhile. Haven't we had such pleasant times? Who has ever had better friends than you?" Charlotte Fisher Ravanel's smile was reminiscent.

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"How lucky I was to marry Andrew! All the girls had their caps set for Andrew." She closed her eyes. "I am sleepy now. I believe I will rest beside my baby. Tell me, Rosemary. Doesn't Andrew's son have his father's eyes?"

A bleary sun hung over the deserted harbor as Rosemary made her way home. The Federals were attacking the few harbor forts still in Confederate hands. So far away, their musketry sounded like a baby's rattle.

Outside 46 Church Street, Joshua was saddling Tecumseh.

"Joshua, what are you doing?"

John's servant adjusted the stirrups. "Master Haynes goin' for a soldier, Missus."

Saddlebags in hand, John came out, moving more briskly than he had in months. "Ah, Rosemary. How are Charlotte and the baby?"

"Dead. Charlotte and the baby, too. Oh, John, she so wanted that child. She ..."

As if his wife were too fragile to embrace, John gently touched Rosemary's hair. Tears trickled down his good open face. "My dear, I am so sorry. Charlotte was too fine for this sinful world."

Rosemary indicated Tecumseh. "John, what is this?"

"I left a note on your bedside table. You couldn't have missed it."

"John!"

"General Johnston has asked for volunteers. Haynes and Son is ruined; our ships might as well be moored on dry land. Rosemary, can you forgive me? I cannot grieve any longer." Her husband's tiny smile was the first Rosemary had seen in months. "Who knows, perhaps they'll give me a commission. Lieutenant Haynes -- wouldn't that be grand? You mustn't worry, dear. John Haynes will be the carefulest old soldier in the army."

He passed the saddlebags to Joshua. "You needn't fear for yourself -- Rhett invested our profits in British bonds. There'll be money to sustain you, whatever may happen."

"John, wait! You cannot go! You cannot! Why ... Tecumseh is gun-shy!"

He patted the horse's flank. "As I am. I suppose we both must overcome terrors."

"But why are you doing this? You cannot bring our Darling back!"

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He gripped his wife's shoulders so tightly, he hurt her. "Rosemary, my life is ashes. I had thought myself protected by the modesty of my ambitions: I would be nothing more than an honest businessman, loving husband, and father. That is everything I ever wanted." He shook his head sadly. "What a very great distance we Southerners have come."

Although the words

Stay with me

trembled on Rosemary's lips, she could not utter them.

John Haynes nodded as if to himself. "So I am away. Though it is hard to credit, apparently our country needs its portly, middle-aged businessmen. President Davis says we can win. If we hold Atlanta, hold Petersburg, and hold Charleston, Abraham Lincoln won't be reelected. If Lincoln loses the election, the Federals will quit this struggle. They have suffered terribly; their losses have been even greater than ours. Surely they are as weary of the ghastly business as we are."