The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (59 page)

“…so as you can see, it is imperative I get these men on that train.”

“Because you might lose your investment?” the soldier asked wryly.

“Now see here,” the slave trader snapped.  “You fought this war so that I could have these slaves.  The least you can do is make sure I keep them.”

The soldier scowled, his thin face growing cold and hard.  “I most certainly did not fight this war so that you could trade slaves,” he snapped.  “I didn’t lose my father and all three of my brothers so that you could take away the seats of government men with your slaves.”  He scanned his eyes over the crowd.  “I’ll give you some free advice… let your slaves go.  The Union army will be here tomorrow and will set them all free anyway.  I’d say your days as a slave trader are over!”

Jeremy continued to watch as the muttering slave trader turned away and yanked the line of slaves after him. He could at least be glad all of them would soon be free.  “Well spoken,” he said to the soldier.

The soldier turned burning eyes on him.  “This country is going to be in for a lot of trouble,” he said harshly as he stared after the line of slaves being led away.  “I didn’t fight this war for slavery, but I sure ain’t looking forward to living in a place where all the slaves are free.  Ain’t nobody gonna be safe then.”

Jeremy recognized the fear in his eyes.  “Those men don’t want to hurt anyone,” he protested.  “They just want to be free and not chained up like animals.”

“You one of those abolitionists?” the soldier asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Jeremy smiled easily. Spouting his beliefs in the midst of a fearful, panicky situation was probably not wise.  He shrugged casually.  “I’ve been working for the Confederacy,” he said calmly.  “I just know we’re all going to have to figure out a way to get along.”

Another want-to-be passenger demanded the soldier’s attention. 

Clifford tugged at Jeremy’s arm.  “Let’s get out of here and see what else is happening in the city.”

Jeremy nodded and fell into step.  It didn’t take long to determine that law and order had departed right along with the trains carrying their government officials.  He still saw faces tightened with fear and grief, but as the afternoon sun dropped lower on the horizon, he saw just as many faces glazed with greed and the lure of opportunity. 

“Jeremy! Look…” Clifford gasped as he grabbed his arm.

Jeremy’s face whitened as he looked down the road toward one of the liquor warehouses.  The City Council’s resolution to destroy all liquor had backfired.  Militia were busily knocking in the heads of whiskey barrels and throwing bottles into the streets where they shattered.  As they poured kegs into the gutters, the smell had attracted what seemed like every thirsty roughneck in Richmond.

Jeremy and Clifford jumped up onto a porch and watched the chaos.  Both men and women rampaged ahead of the official ax wielders to grab casks and cases.  There wasn’t enough of the militia to stop them.  Jeremy was relieved the men designated to maintain order were wise enough to know that. They simply stepped back and watched helplessly.

He watched as one shabbily dressed woman pulled off her tattered hat and dipped it into the spilled liquor, holding her mouth wide to let it pour in, dark gaps indicating missing teeth.  He felt sick as several men threw themselves on the ground and began to lap the liquor from the gutter like animals.  He knew it was just a matter of time before the drunkenness would make a bad situation even worse.  “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.

As he and Clifford forced their way past the hordes trying to reach the alcohol, he saw another stream of people heading toward the commissaries.  He dreaded what new thing he would find, but he was compelled to follow the crowds. 

“Good grief!” Clifford gasped as they rounded the corner and saw the swarm of people piling into the commissary.

“There’s plenty of flour and bacon in that building,” one, skinny as a skeleton, woman yelled as she pushed her way forward.  “We been starving while they been hiding away all this food!”

“It ain’t right,” another yelled.  “We’ve given up everything for the cause and now they’re just going to leave us.  I’m done sacrificing for the South – now I’m just going to take care of my family!”

“I want bacon!” another woman screeched as she clawed her way forward, her face twisted with hunger and despair.

Jeremy and Clifford were pushed back against the side of a rough brick building.  Jeremy felt a moment of panic as he wondered if they were going to be trampled. 

“Up here, Jeremy!” Clifford shouted as he reached up with his remaining arm and pulled himself up onto the porch.

Jeremy followed him quickly, and then breathed a sigh of relief as the door pushed open and they fell back into an empty office building.  Only scattered papers remained behind to say this room had at one time been the scene of busy government work. File cabinets hung open; left that way in the frantic rush to gather important papers.

Clifford pointed upward.  “Let’s get higher.”

Jeremy nodded and followed him up the curved wooden stairway.  When they stepped out onto the third floor balcony that allowed them to see across town they realized just how terrible the situation in Richmond was.  The crowds that had swarmed into the commissary, ignited by a terrible anger and despair, had now turned their fury and greed toward every shop and warehouse in the business district.  They watched in horrified fascination as doors were busted in and front windows were smashed.  Looters hurried by, their arms full of everything from clothes, to shoes, to candy and food. 

“It’s every man for himself!” one yelled as he hurried by.  “Get everything you can because the Yankees will own it tomorrow!”

City gas lines, and the light they provided, had all been cut off.  As the sun sank below the horizon and the streets grew dark, looters desperate to find everything they could lit paper torches and then tossed the burning paper aside when they left the buildings with their arms full.  The glow of bonfires set to burn government documents shimmered against the side of buildings and threw flames high into the air.

“Things are out of control,” Clifford snapped angrily. “Where are the militia units?

“General Ewell doesn’t have enough men to handle things,” Jeremy said grimly.  “He asked weeks ago for a volunteer force to be raised in the event of an evacuation, but his request didn’t get anywhere.”  He gazed around at the angry scene.  “It’s too late to try and stop it,” he said sadly.  “Besides, the general has more important things to do tonight.”

Clifford stared at him.  “It’s true, then?  They’re going to burn the cotton and tobacco warehouses?” 

“He has orders,” Jeremy responded.  “I do know he inspected the warehouses and had everything moved into buildings he believes can burn without endangering the city.  Officers have been assigned to carry out the burning, and he has asked the fire department to have crews ready to keep the blazes from spreading.”

Clifford gazed down at the out-of-control crowds fueled by drunkenness, fear and greed.  “You figure that’s going to work?”

The first fires to spread out of control began at two o’clock in the morning.

             
Jeremy had decided he wanted to be available if the fire crews could not contain the fires that were to be ignited.  He had sent Clifford back to protect Carrie and Janie. He could only hope Thomas’ house was high enough on Church Hill to escape the danger of spreading flames if the worst were to happen. 

The chaos had only increased as the sun sank below the horizon and signaled a long night that would end with occupation by Union forces.  Wagons and drays created a loud rumble as they were driven as swiftly as possible, too often being forced to a standstill.  Driver’s curses and shouting joined in with the sounds of screaming women and crying children.  People thronged the streets searching for information that would tell them what to do – only none existed.  Neighing horses and shrieking train whistles added to the cacophony of noise. 

Jeremy pushed his way through the crowd and headed for the warehouse district down by the water.  His path led him once more past the train station, which even at this late hour was still thronged with people.  He noticed huge piles of supplies next to the tracks and edged close enough to hear two men arguing as they stood over it and stared down.

“Lee said he wanted these supplies to meet his army.”

“And I’m telling you there are no trains available to put it on!” another man shouted.  “We’re not even going to get all the officials and archives out.  There is certainly no room for blankets.”

“Or food?  Or ammunition?  Just what is Lee supposed to do when he gets to Amelia Courthouse and has no supplies.”

“That’s not my problem tonight!  I’m under orders to get President Davis and his cabinet out of here, along with all the governmental archives.  There are going to be a lot of people who don’t get what they want,” he ended with a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his thin, bearded face.

Jeremy was quite sure he was right about that. 

“The President is leaving!” he heard a woman scream.  Jeremy glanced at his watch; eleven o’clock.  He’d heard the president was supposed to leave three hours earlier, but he well understood the delays caused by such chaos.  He watched as the train full of the Confederate government pulled slowly out of the station, gathering speed until it disappeared from sight around a bend. 

For those few minutes the chaos calmed as people watched the train depart…

“We’re now totally on our own!”

Jeremy heard the screech and whipped his head around to see a mob of people surge down Cary Street.  A sudden howl rose in the air as the last thread of constraint was broken. 

Jeremy moved down the road, both horrified and fascinated by the madness swirling around him.  Tens of thousands of suits of clothing were thrown from the Clothing Bureau.  The remaining food stores in the commissary were being fought over by thousands of poor women.  Store owners, in a desperate attempt to save their buildings, opened the doors and tossed out dry goods, shoes and every manner of provision.  The crowd fell on them like wild animals.

Jeremy felt sick, but also had a sad understanding of the strain and deprivation these people had felt for so long.  He was sure they felt they were only taking what they had rightfully sacrificed for, and he also understood the power of the mob mentality.  If somehow the city could be held together until the Union troops arrived, all these people would be driven back indoors to peer through their windows and think back with astonishment of what they had done the night before.

It was after midnight when he successfully worked his way down to the warehouse district.  Men were hard at work building bonfires in front of the tobacco warehouses with chairs, tables and desks taken from government offices. They were broken up and piled high in front of the wooden buildings. 

Suddenly he caught sight of a familiar face coming toward him on the street.  “Hobbs!”

Hobbs looked up wearily, his face brightening immediately.  “Jeremy!”

“What is going on?” Jeremy asked.  “Where are you going?”

“Back up to the hospital.” 

“You can’t make your way through this mad crowd with that bad leg.”

Hobbs managed a grin.  “Oh, it might take me a while longer than most, but I figure I can handle it.”

Jeremy just shook his head, knowing he was probably right.  “What have you been doing since this morning?”

“Pretending to be a lot more people than I really am,” he said wryly.

“Excuse me?”

Hobbs nodded his head.  “Lee had some of us occupy the picket lines just outside the city.  We’ve done a lot of moving around and made a whole lot of noise so it would sound like there were a whole bunch of us.  We kept the fires burning bright.”  He drew himself up proudly.  “Lee wanted us to give him time to get away with his army.  Word just came to us that Lee’s last troops departed the city.  The last cavalry brigade is supposed to leave at two o’clock this morning, act as a rear guard for the army, and then burn Mayo’s Bridge.”

Jeremy’s lips tightened again, thinking of all the frantic citizens who were hoping to use that bridge as a means of escaping the city.

“What are you doing down here, Jeremy?” Hobbs asked, staring at the growing bonfire piles in front of the warehouses.

Jeremy brought him up to date; informing him Thomas had left, and told him what was happening in the city.

“Jumping Jehosophat!” Hobbs breathed, looking over Jeremy’s shoulder with horror.

Jeremy turned around and groaned when he saw flames begin to illuminate the sky from downtown Richmond.   “There are mobs down there looting every building of whatever they can take.  I saw them lighting torches so they could see in the buildings.  Combine that with huge piles of burning documents and I’m surprised things are just now starting to burn.  Let’s hope the fire crews can put them out quickly.”

The activity behind him continued at a fevered pace, the bonfires growing steadily in front of all the buildings to be torched.  Jeremy lifted his face, glad the night was calm and still, and praying it would stay that way.