Shadow of Dawn (36 page)

“You could always say we’d been set upon by
thieves. And you did kill Bart.”

He said, with a humorless smile, “Desperate
times, desperate games. I believe I read that somewhere.”

She shook her head. “What happened to you and
Andrew, to make you turn out this way?”

“I’ll tell you what happened to them.”
Miranda stood in the upper doorway of the parlor, her collar askew
and her hair loosened; a flame-red lock of artificial hair dangled
absurdly from the side of her head.

“They were spoiled. Never taught discipline.
It’s partly my fault. There wasn’t much love between the parents,
not enough for the boys. But they grew up believing the world owed
them everything and they owed nothing. John was always a rebel.
Andrew tried, but in the end he showed what he was, too.”

Her cousin laughed disparagingly. “You have
it all figured out, eh, Miranda? You helped raise me!”

“Yes, but some people manage to overcome
their raising.”

“Enough,” Clayton said. “I want him out of
here.” He gave Kelly a push toward the front door. Then he turned
to her. “Catherine, will you see to Margaret, for me?”

“Of course…of course I will. Wait, Clayton.”
She pulled him with her into the parlor. There was no one there now
but Sallie, who sat watching them with a raised eyebrow and a look
of resentment.

“Are you coming back?” she asked.

He answered, after a moment’s hesitation,
“There’s something coming up, Catherine, something big. I may be
gone for a long time. But yes, my darling, I’m staying here
tonight.”

T
he next day,
Sunday, Clayton accompanied his wife to church. Though the
Hendersons normally attended another church, they went with the
Pierces, as did a very subdued Miranda Kelly.

With quiet respectfulness, Clayton asked the
minister if he might speak after the service. Catherine waited, her
stomach taut with nervousness. She didn’t know what he was going to
say.

A little stir went across the congregation as
he rose. His hands resting quietly on each side of the pulpit, he
gazed earnestly at those who sat before him. He told them of his
spy mission and the reasons for it. He explained carefully that
Catherine had not known his true identity for some time, and soon
after she discovered it, they were secretly married.

He said only that Bart had been suspected of
illegal activities; he did not mention Sallie’s involvement. Andrew
Kelly, he said, had been dead since last year; he did not explain
the details. Andrew’s brother, John, who had never quite succeeded
in making Catherine believe he was Andrew, had been a conspirator
in a plot against the Confederacy and the life of General Lee, and
was in prison awaiting trial.

He spoke with such sobriety and humility,
laced with just the right touch of humor, that the congregation
could not help but believe every word he said. His voice broke when
he spoke of Mrs. Shirley. When he finished, all the women and
several men had tears in their eyes. Everyone sat for a moment
without moving, then all at once he was surrounded by people
wanting to shake his hand. The women hugged Catherine, and she knew
that her reputation had survived yet another potential
disgrace.

Mrs. Shirley’s funeral was held later that
afternoon. The president’s wife, Varina Davis, attended, with a
handful of other people Catherine had never seen before. As with
Bart, but for different reasons, she felt sorry she had not been
kinder to Mrs. Shirley.

Clayton had to leave immediately afterward.
She would see him only two more times before the end came.

***

The battle of Chancellorsville
was
big—some called it Lee’s greatest victory. With less than half the
number of troops, the Confederates immobilized the Federals and
sent them fleeing once more across the Rappahannock River. On the
first day of that battle, the alarm bell in Capitol Square rang
frantically, for in the absence of Lee’s army Yankee troops had
pressed within three miles of Richmond. Militia, government workers
and citizens were mustered in to defend the city, and drove the
enemy back.

On May twelfth, Catherine and Clayton were
reunited briefly for the sad occasion of Stonewall Jackson’s
funeral. The entire city went into mourning for the great general;
schools and businesses closed, church bells tolled, flags flew at
half-mast. His death was considered throughout the South to be a
calamity of immeasurable proportions. Clayton told Catherine that
Jackson, Lee’s right-hand man, had been struck in the dark of night
by wild fire among his own men. The wound necessitated amputation
of his left arm, after which he seemed to be recovering, but then
pneumonia set in and he died a few days later.

Catherine had news for him, too. John Kelly
had somehow managed to escape from Castle Thunder prison and had
disappeared into parts unknown. But neither was worried, for they
did not expect to ever see him again. There were too many other
things to worry about.

The disastrous battle of Gettysburg,
Pennsylvania, and the surrender of Vicksburg in Mississippi stunned
the South, though Lee fought grimly on, in spite of a greatly
reduced army and a devastating lack of food and supplies as the
naval blockade grew impenetrable. The early part of 1864 saw
General Grant promoted to commander of the Union armies. In his
usual tenacious manner, he launched an attempt to take Richmond
from the south, resulting in a siege at Petersburg that would last
for ten months.

In May of that year, the beloved and heroic
Jeb Stuart was killed while defending Richmond from a federal
cavalry raid, sending yet another cloud of gloom and grief over the
entire region. Catherine attended the funeral and hoped she would
see Clayton there, but he must not have been able to get away. In
Georgia, Union General Sherman commenced a ferocious campaign to
capture Atlanta.

Catherine read the newspapers with growing
alarm. Gossip spread from house to house and neighborhood to
neighborhood—the armies were being mismanaged; President Davis was
either dead or had lost his mind; Lee should replace him, even if
it meant a dictatorship. The South was at last waking from a dream
world to face a reality once too horrible to contemplate:
defeat.

General Grant continued to sway backward and
forward in his attempts to take Richmond, ever frustrated by the
equally determined Lee. In June, a terrible battle was fought at
Cold Harbor in which so many Federals were killed that the northern
press condemned their own general as a butcher for instigating it.
Though it was a clear victory for Lee, the fighting took its toll
on his army.

September saw the fall of Atlanta to General
Sherman, who marched victoriously to the coast and then, taking his
time, swept upward through South Carolina, leaving in his wake
burned and pillaged cities and fields, homeless women and children,
crops set afire or churned into the ground by wagon wheels.

In Richmond, food and clothing had become
scarce. Rumors of speculators hiding away supplies until prices
went sky-high flew around the city. By the first part of 1865 beef
sold for fifteen dollars a pound, bacon and butter cost twenty
dollars a pound and a quart of strawberries cost ten dollars. The
price of wood for fuel had gone up to one hundred and fifty dollars
a cord.

Martin managed to keep a little food on the
table, when it could be found; Catherine and Sallie continued to
mend their old dresses and to line worn-out shoes with pieces of
carpet and newspapers. (Miranda had, by then, gone back to
Alabama.) Catherine insisted on paying for her own share of the
food and fuel, and most of her inheritance was gone.

***

On Saturday, the first night of April, a
knock came on the front door. Before Ephraim could reach it, the
door opened and Clayton strode swiftly inside.

Catherine paused on her way upstairs, saw
him, and with a glad cry ran back down the steps and into his arms.
But he was hurried and tense; lines of weariness creased his
dark-stubbled face, and because he wore no hat, Catherine noticed
for the first time threads of silver in his black hair. He wore
dark trousers and worn-looking boots. His gray officer’s coat was
ragged and torn. Dust from the roads covered him from head to
toe.

Martin and Sallie rushed out from the parlor.
Clayton spoke quickly.

“I’ve just ridden from Petersburg and I’ve
got to get back to my men. We’re pulling out. Richmond will be
evacuated.”

“Pulling out?” Martin repeated blankly.
“Why?”

Clayton met his eyes. “There are four Union
generals with at least two hundred thousand men heading for us. We
have, with all our armies combined, less than half that many, and
most of them are sick and exhausted. Our provisions and
communications have been cut off. General Lee wants to try to join
up with Johnston’s army, and the only way he can do that is to
abandon Richmond.”

“No,” Catherine whispered, but only Clayton
heard her, glancing at her swiftly.

“All the tobacco and cotton and whatever army
supplies are in the city will be destroyed to keep the Yankees from
getting it. They’ll try to move it to a central location to avoid
setting the whole city on fire, but there’s no telling what will
happen. You should all leave by tomorrow morning.”

Sallie gasped and clung to Martin, too
stunned to faint. Martin looked old and feeble. “Where shall we
go?” he asked.

“You and Mrs. Henderson should go to her
relatives in Tennessee. Catherine—” He turned to her, speaking to
her as though they were alone. “I’ve been able to find out that my
house is still standing. My grandmother lost her own house and
she’s living there now. She has a little business going with the
Yankees, so you won’t starve.” He pulled a scrap of paper out of
his pocket. “I’ve written down the address.”

Clayton turned again and his piercing dark
eyes met those of the butler. “Ephraim, will you get my wife safely
to Atlanta?”

Ephraim nodded. “I’ll do that or die trying,
Mr. Clayton.”

Clayton reached out and touched his shoulder.
“You’ll have a home with us for the rest of your life,” he said
gratefully.

“But, Martin…leave this house? Leave all my
beautiful things? I won’t do it!” Sallie cried suddenly.

Clayton’s attention shifted to her. “This
house may burn, Mrs. Henderson. And if it doesn’t, almost certainly
some Yankee officer will be sent to live here while they take
control of the city.”

Sallie went paler, but said firmly, “I’d
rather stay. I don’t want to go on some ridiculous long journey to
people I don’t even like very much. How would we get food?”

“It’s your decision, ma’am…and Martin’s. But
I advise you to leave. If you don’t want to go to Tennessee, you’re
welcome to stay at my house in Atlanta. Richmond will be in
complete chaos by this time tomorrow night. Looters will be on
every street corner, and who knows what attitude the Yankees will
take. This city has been a thorn in their side for a long time.
Come here, Catherine.”

He pulled her aside. “Is there food in the
house?”

She nodded.

“Take as much as you can in your baggage. One
bag apiece for you and Ephraim will have to do. Take the Danville
train. I don’t know how far it will make it and you may have to
travel some on foot. I was only able to get two tickets and passes
for you and Ephraim. If Martin and Sallie go with you they’ll need
to convince someone at the War Department to give them a pass,
though by then it may not be necessary.

“Here, take these.” Along with the passports
and tickets, he pressed several gold pieces into her hand. When she
stared at them in awe he said, “I took them off a captured
Yankee.”

Clayton took her face in his hands. “I pray
God you’ll make it through safely, Catherine. The end is almost
here, but until the general makes it official, I can’t leave my
men.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. If
anyone can get us through, Ephraim can.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Heedless of the three pairs of watching eyes,
he kissed her long and hard and went out again into the
darkness.

By the next morning Catherine had stuffed
everything she could into a stout valise. She took only as much
food as she and Ephraim could subsist on for several days and left
some of the gold pieces in its place.

She said good-bye to her uncle and Sallie,
who had decided to take their chances with the Yankee army. They
stood in the doorway and watched as she and Ephraim began their
walk to the depot. (The army had confiscated Martin’s carriage and
horses over a year before…and not long afterward Tad and Joseph had
run away.) Jessie and Hester, who had chosen to stay with the
Hendersons, waved tearfully from behind them.

People strolled to the churches as though
they had no inkling of impending disaster. A soft haze hung over
the city beneath the early glare of the sun; it was so still they
could hear the gentle murmur of the river. Smoke billowed up from
the front of some of the government offices.