The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (20 page)

“I think I’ve learned a big lesson from covering this war,” Peter said thoughtfully.

“Such as?”

“I think I’ve spent too much of my life hesitating.  Instead of boldly taking action, I’ve sat back and let life happen around me – only taking action when I thought I could be sure of success.”  He paused, “Not only can we never be sure of success - we can also lose so many amazing opportunities because we’re too afraid to take action.  I don’t ever want to live that way again.”

“I know what you mean,” Matthew agreed solemnly.  “When we escaped Libby Prison, I promised myself I would live full out.  I decided I wouldn’t just let life happen to me; I would go out and make life happen.”

“Will you still be a correspondent when the war is over?” Peter asked.

“My dream is to find a small town somewhere and have my own newspaper,” Matthew responded, a smile on his face as he envisioned it.  “I’ve traveled around this country all I care to and seen things I never want to see again.”

Suddenly his attention was pulled away, and he turned to inspect what had distracted him.  Their conversation was over; they had a job to do.  Matthew put down his field glasses after a long moment and faced Peter, who was just lowering his own field glasses, in astonishment.  “Is that President Lincoln coming up the road?”

Peter shook his head.  “Looks like it,” he murmured in disbelief.  “Is he really coming out onto the battlefield?”

A passing soldier overheard them and laughed.  “We won’t let anything happen to the president. The Rebels won’t get past us,” he boasted.

Matthew decided not to comment on the naiveté of the soldier’s boast.  The only thing certain about a battlefield was that one could never be certain of anything.  He took a deep breath, knowing his job was simply to report on the events.  He determined, though, to stay close to the president so he could report whatever happened.

Matthew stared in astonishment as President Lincoln climbed to the top of Fort Stevens’ parapet to get a clear view of the skirmishing armies.  “He’s crazy,” Matthew muttered.  “It would only take one bullet from a Confederate sharpshooter to kill him.  What is he thinking?”

He and Peter gasped at the same time when a Union surgeon, standing just to the side of the president, slumped to the ground with a bullet through his leg. 

From somewhere close came an angry shout, “Get down, Mr. President!”

President Lincoln ducked down but didn’t leave his position.

Matthew shook his head.  “I wonder whether he has any idea he’s making their job harder.  They don’t have just an invading army to worry about; now they have to protect the President of the United States.” 

“I have nothing but respect for Lincoln,” Peter stated, “but I agree this is ridiculous.  He seems to be enjoying it!” 

“Right now it’s still just a game to him,” Matthew agreed.  “I wonder whether he’ll still be here when they’re hauling blackened corpses off the field.”  Matthew knew he was losing patience with any aspect of the war.  “I wonder how he would feel then.”  Shouts in the distance caught his attention and brought a sigh of relief. 

“Here come more of our troops!” Peter exclaimed. 

Dust rose from the long columns of troops marching rapidly down the road.  “Finally, they’re here,” Matthew said with relief.  “Now let’s see what happens.”

A sharp call from within the fort moments later sent several brigades from the Army of the Potomac marching out onto the open field.  It was all very military – flags flying, lines straight.

Matthew, carefully watching the president, could tell Lincoln loved it.  Matthew shook his head, but also supposed he could understand.  For most of the last three and a half years, the war had all been on paper - reports of victories and losses, hospitals filled with the wounded, and one problem after the other for the president to solve.  Now here was an example of Union strength; the president was determined to experience it and perhaps revel in the power it revealed.  Who could blame him?

Then reality sank in as hundreds of the attacking Union soldiers went down under heavy fire as the Rebels rushed out of their camp to fight them.  Matthew lost sight of the president as he positioned himself for a clearer view of the battlefield. 

The battle was sharp and furious but relatively short lived.  By afternoon things seemed to be at a stalemate again.  Sporadic gunfire continued, but there was no sustained attack the rest of the day.

The next morning Early was gone; he had slipped away under the cover of darkness.

“What now, Captain Borden?”

Robert looked up from pouring his coffee.  “We’re getting out of here,” he said simply.  “It’s time to go home.”

“That’s it?”

“The game’s up,” Robert replied.  “We put an awful scare into them, but we don’t have enough men to do more, and Lee needs us back in the Shenandoah.  A lot of the summer is still ahead of us.” 

He smiled up at Alex and then stood to address his men.  “You can all be proud.  We may not have done everything we came to do, but we did more than anyone thought was possible, and we gave Richmond a reprieve by forcing Grant to send thousands of his troops back to Washington.   We showed everyone the South isn’t done yet!”

“Yeah!” his men shouted loudly, their faces lighting with pride.  “We showed him, all right!”

Robert wasn’t done.  “We’ve collected valuable supplies that will go back with us; we’ve got money to sustain the Confederate government, and,” he paused and smiled, “we’re eating better than we’ve eaten in a while.  All in all, I think we did a good job.  Hold your heads high, men!”

He smiled as all around him his men did just that.  These were good men who had suffered a long march through hideous heat without complaint.  They were toughened soldiers who were willing to give their all.  Robert might be sick of the war, but he was proud to command these men.

Now all they had to do was manage to get out of Maryland and cross the Potomac before anyone caught up with them. 

Matthew sat on the porch with Aunt Abby and watched as groups of citizens talked quietly.  The panic was gone; relief was as thick as the humidity. 

Abby fanned herself quietly and then turned to Matthew.  “What did all this really mean?” she asked. 

“I believe only time will tell the whole story, but I’ve heard many different things.  London newspapers proclaimed the Confederacy seems more formidable an enemy than ever.  They rightly observed Grant was caught off guard and nearly lost the capital by neglect.”

“Just one day would have made such a difference,” Abby murmured.

“The Rebels may never realize how easily they could have taken the city,” Matthew agreed.  “Their hesitancy gave our troops just enough time to get here.”

“How different things would be if Lincoln had been shot standing up there on the top of the fort.”

Matthew nodded.  He had told Aunt Abby what had happened.  “Again, we’ll never know what that would have meant, but I shudder to imagine it.”
              Abby gazed at him for a long moment.  “Do you think Lincoln can be re-elected?”

Matthew frowned.  “I would say that right now his political fortunes have sunk to a new low.  People are sick of the war.  To have almost lost the capital is more than some of them can comprehend.  They are afraid this war will go on forever; destroying their loved ones and ripping families apart.  There are many who believe things will change only if we have a new president.”

“Do you believe the same way?” Abby asked.

Matthew took a deep breath and stared out over the dome of the Capitol in the distance.  “I think it’s just a matter of time before the war ends, no matter who the president is.  The South will simply run out of everything at some point and have to surrender.  They have hopes that if someone other than Lincoln is elected that perhaps the South will be let go to form another country.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No.  Too many people have paid too high a price.  This war will not simply fade away with time.  It will continue to burn itself out with fighting and agony.  It’s what comes afterwards that has me concerned about the re-election.”

“Me too,” Abby said fervently.  “Lincoln, like any man, is not perfect, but he genuinely wants freedom for the slaves, and he genuinely wants to create a way for the country to come back together after the war is over.  I don’t see that same passion in any of the other candidates, nor quite frankly in much of our Congress. Without Lincoln at the helm, rebuilding our country after the war could be an overwhelming task.”

“I agree with you,” Matthew said solemnly.  “Things will have to turn around in the next few months, though, for him to have a chance. “

Word came two weeks later about the burning of Chambersburg, Pennsylvania.  Renewed fury swept through the Union as the details filled the papers and passed from mouth to mouth. 

Twenty-eight hundred Rebel cavalrymen on their way back to the South entered the town and demanded a ransom of $500,000.  When the town failed to raise the ransom, it was burned.  Flames destroyed more than five hundred structures and left more than two thousand homeless.  To make matters worse, many drunken soldiers looted homes and abused civilians.

It made no difference that Good Samaritans in the Rebel ranks helped some of the citizens escape, saved their valuables, and even helped douse the flames.  The damage had been done.

The attack inspired a national aid campaign and renewed the battle cry to win the war! 

The Union was sick of the war, but by God, they were going to win!

Chapter Twelve

“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Carrie announced, throwing back the draperies so sunshine could stream into the room and bring with it a cool breeze.  “When Richmond has an August morning that is cool because a rainstorm lasted all night, but then disappeared in time for a sunny day, we know God must be smiling on your marriage.”

Janie tucked her knees to her chin and smiled broadly.  “I can’t believe this is happening.  I’m really going to marry Clifford.”

“Even though you’re a strong woman?” Carrie teased.  “I guess I was right after all.”

Georgia laughed loudly.  “Which is just something you love to be!”

“Right?” Carrie asked.  “Of course, it is.  It’s a good thing it happens so often.”  She grinned and spun around the room.  “I just love weddings.”  She was determined to hold back thoughts of Robert.  Their wedding… how long it had been since she’d seen him.

Janie saw through it and stood up to grab her hands.  “It’s okay to miss Robert on a day like this.  Of course, it’s going to bring up memories.  I’m so glad he is alive and back from the raid on Washington, D.C.  At least he’s on the Confederate side of the country again.”