Words Heard in Silence (98 page)

Finally, Elizabeth realized that it was time to send for Rebecca. She owed Rebecca the right to say goodbye to her husband if it was at all possible.

"We need to send for Rebecca. She should be here when..." She just shook her head, unwilling to admit she believed Charlie was going to die and that she had failed him not only as a friend, but also as a doctor.

Richard moved to her side. "Are you sure? I can send one of our couriers."

"No." Whitman had been sitting quietly on the other side of Charlie’s bed, patiently bathing the vicious wound with salt water. "She deserves to have a friend at her side when she makes this trip. I will go."

Elizabeth smiled at him. "I think that is a very kind gesture. You should prepare to leave as soon as possible."

"I will leave at first light. Colonel, can you provide me with a courier’s pass?"

"Of course, I will issue one right away. I will also send a letter stating you are on a mission of mercy and should be allowed to pass without delay."

"Thank you, Sir. I wish I did not have to make this trip, but I will make it as gentle on Rebecca as possible."

Whitman left at first light, riding the Army’s best courier horses. It was a long ride, about one hundred and thirty miles. He changed horses every hour and made excellent time, arriving in Culpeper late in the afternoon.

His first stop was Major Byrnes’ office, in part to remove some of the dust of the road, and in part to gain some support in this most difficult task. He carried special orders from General Grant, who had ordered a car be added to the dispatch train to carry Rebecca southward to Appomattox.

Somewhat less filthy, but still exhausted after a long, hard ride, Whitman rode the last mile to the house. His heart was filled with compassion for the young woman he was going to see. She had seen too much grief and sorrow in her life.

Beulah opened the door to find Mr. Whitman holding his hat in his hands.

"Oh Lord, ‘‘tis General Charlie. He is dead." She waited patiently for him to answer, but tears were forming in her eyes even then.

"No, Beulah, General Charlie is not dead. But we fear he may be dying. I have come to take Mrs. Redmond to him. Is she here?"

"Of course, Sir. Come in, I will fetch her."

Whitman stepped inside and waited; within a minute Rebecca came down the hall, stopping about half way to him. "He is dead."

"No, Miss Rebecca. He is not dead. But he is in a very bad way. General Grant is sending a train for you in the morning. I thought you would need a friend at hand. So, since I am the one least able to care for him, I came to get you. Jocko is by his side and Elizabeth and Samuelson are doing everything they can."

The dam broke and Rebecca collapsed where she stood, tears streaming, and gasping for air as she sobbed. She had felt for days that something was wrong but no one would tell her anything. "I knew it. I knew it."

"Miss Rebecca, please, calm yourself. General Charlie needs you. He is strong; he is getting the best care possible. But the injuries are very serious. He needs your strength –– now and in the future."

She felt his arms go around her as he knelt down. "They should have told me."

"Elizabeth was hoping to be able to send good news. At least, she has managed, so far, to save his leg."

"How bad is it? What happened to him?"

"He was hit with a blast of canister shot. His right side is badly ripped up. He has serious wounds to his shoulder, right buttock and thigh, as well as having lost two fingers off his right hand. The wound in his buttock is badly infected. The injuries are so severe that he may never regain full mobility." Whitman felt that Rebecca deserved the most clinically precise description possible. That would get the shock over more quickly and prepare her for the sight of her husband when they arrived. If he did not survive until they got back, it would give her a framework to understand why.

"When did it happen?"

"At Appomattox Station, the day before the surrender."

"He has survived this long?"

"Yes, ma’am. Duncan saw him go down and got to him quickly. I understand that Jack went a little crazy and dragged Jocko to them as well. Between the two of them, they kept the General from bleeding to death. Your husband is a stubborn man, Mrs. Redmond. He promised you he would come back and he is trying his best to do just that."

"Then there is hope." With Whitman's assistance, they stood. "Thank you for coming. Please have Beulah give you a room so that you may clean up and then have Lizbet prepare you a hot meal. I will start gathering my things and try to explain this to Emily."

"Thank you, ma’am. I can stay in town with the garrison if that would be easier for you."

"No, not at all. We have more than enough room for a dear friend such as yourself."

"Then I will attend to my own needs. Reg and Beulah will take care of me, and I will be ready for you tomorrow at dawn. The train is due at the station at seven."

Rebecca nodded and turned on her heel. She knew where she would find Em. Standing outside Charlie's office door she took a deep breath and gather herself together. Opening the door she found Tess and Emily playing by the fire. Em was putting together a wooden puzzle Jeremiah had carved for her with the knife Duncan had given him. She looked over to see Charlie and Andrew sleeping quite peacefully in their respective bassinets.

"Tess, I need to speak with Emily. Could you leave us for a few minutes?"

"Yes, ma’am. I will be in the kitchen with Sarah if you need me, ma’am." Tess could see that Rebecca had been crying. She knew that Sarah and Beulah were her best sources of information.

Rebecca sat down in front of the fire with her daughter and opened her arms. Emily giggled and crawled right into her lap. "Hello, my little darling."

"‘Lo, Mama. See Jermia toy!"

"I see, sweetheart. It was very nice of him to make you that toy. I know it is one of your favorites."

Em looked at Rebecca and could see the tear tracks on her face. "Mama sad?"

"No, my little darling. Mama is not sad. Mama is happy. I have found out news of your Papa."

"Papa. Papa! Papa come home?"

"Yes, Papa will be coming home. But Papa is far from home and Mama must go get him and bring him home."

Emily’s face grew its familiar thundercloud. "Mama go away? No. Mama, no go. Papa come home."

"Emily, Mama has to go get Papa. He is a long way from home. You do not want him to get lost do you?"

Emily assumed a look of long-suffering patience. Obviously, she had to explain this very evident fact to the silly grownup Mama. "Papa gwownup. Papa smawt. Come home witout Mama."

"Yes, Em, Papa is very smart, but Papa has been hurt. So Mama has to go get him to make him feel better."

"Papa has booboo? Oh. Mama go fix booboo?"

Rebecca smiled. "Yes, Mama has to go fix Papa's booboo. Then Mama will bring Papa home."

"Papa home good! How long?" Em looked at Rebecca suspiciously.

"I do not know my little darling, but I promise you this, it will be just as quickly as we can. We want to be home with you and your brothers. Now I have a favor to ask of my very big girl."

"Yes, Mama?"

"I need you to help Tess care for your brothers while I am gone. You need to be the lady of the house. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Mama. Em big girl. Em two."

"Yes I know. So you promise to be a good girl and help while Mama is gone?"

Em stood up in front of Rebecca and nodded solemnly. "Em good. Em pwomise."

Rebecca sat by the fire in their room, holding the Bible that she and Charlie had read from when he had first arrived. She was exhausted and yet far too nervous to sleep. She wanted morning to come and she wanted to be on her way.

She looked over to the big bed, wishing Charlie were there that very moment so she could crawl into the safety that was their love and sleep the night through. She slipped from the chair; kneeling near the window she looked at the clear sky and the bright moon and she laced her hands together.

"Dear God, please, please allow my Charlie to live. You, more than anyone, know what a kind, good person you have created. We need her here with us. Please, do not take her from those of us who love her so deeply. Amen."

She waited there for a moment, continuing to look out the window. Just as she was getting up, a falling star streaked across the sky as if it was an answer from the Almighty Himself.

Mr. Whitman was up and ready at first light, just as he had promised. Rebecca was also ready, with a small handbag her only luggage.

"Mrs. Redmond, do you have all you need?"

"Everything except my husband, Mr. Whitman. Let us go."

"After you, ma’am. Major Byrnes has sent a trap for us. It is already outside."

Rebecca led the way; a trooper took her bag and then helped her in. Mr. Whitman took a seat next to her; she reached over and took his hand. "Thank you for being with me."

"Jocko wanted to come, but he could not bring himself to leave his 'Gen'l Charlie'. And Richard would have come himself, but Sheridan has him running like a rat in a trap. I was the obvious choice, since Elizabeth cannot leave him."

"I really do appreciate it. It is nice to have a friend close at times like these."

"I am honored, ma’am. And I felt strongly that you should have a friend. General Grant was kind enough to offer his own train, as he is occupied with settling the surrender still."

"I am grateful this is over. I just hope I can have Charlie home again. I hope we are not too late."

"I have to tell you, ma’am, having seen him the day he was injured, I am amazed at his strength. He lost so much blood I was sure he would not survive the night."

Rebecca closed her eyes against the image of wounds she could only imagine. "Charlie is very strong and determined. If he has survived this long, I believe there is a good chance he will recover."

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree, Miss Rebecca. But there is a terrible infection we have not been able to control. That, the fever from it and the loss of blood taken together, is making it very hard for him."

Rebecca chewed her lip then turned to face her friend. "Mr. Whitman, I know that Elizabeth is a fine doctor and she is doing everything she thinks will help. But has she tried using honey?"

"Honey? No, I believe they have been using salt water washes."

"Honey is very effective in fighting infections. My mother absolutely refused to use anything else. On the farm we used it on everything from people to horses. However, it is considered folk medicine. I do not know if Elizabeth will be willing to try it."

"Miss Rebecca, the General is dear to both of you, in your own ways. If you have something that will help, I am sure she will try it. She has already tried everything she knows."

The rest of the trip was reasonably uneventful. General Grant had obtained priority clearance for their train. With that, they managed an average of thirty miles an hour, excellent time by any standards.

They arrived at Appomattox Station at about noon. Rebecca looked around at the land that was freshly torn and ravaged by the battle seven days earlier. She looked to Whitman as they dismounted from the train onto the shell pocked station platform. "Was this the place?"

"Yes."

"How many died here?"

"I honestly do not know. The battle stretched out along about seven miles of track, with both Charlie and General Custer’s forces. I know Dr. Walker and General Custer’s surgeon both had their hands full."

"A waste. A terrible waste. Come, Mr. Whitman, help me find my husband."

Whitman looked down the road to the east and saw a wagon approaching. Squinting in the bright light, he saw a figure he thought was Polk at the reins. "It seems that Colonel Polk has sent a wagon, ma’am."

"So it does." Rebecca walked toward the wagon. When it stopped, Richard jumped down and immediately he and Rebecca shared a hug.

"Richard, is Charlie..."

"No. He is still alive."

"Thank God."

"Let me take you to him. But, Rebecca, you need to be prepared. He has been horribly injured."

"I know. Mr. Whitman described the extent of his injuries for me. I do not care about that, Richard. I only want to be with him."

"You may have to convince him of that. He has been delirious, but all he talks about, I am told, is how he is not... not the husband you deserve. I do not know if that is the result of this injury or if it is the fever talking."

"It does not matter. We can help him overcome this."

"Rebecca, you need to understand. These are truly ugly injuries. Elizabeth wanted to amputate the leg at the hip."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand. It does not matter, Richard. Now please take me to my husband."

They rode down the road in silence, each consumed with their own thoughts. As they approached the camp, they came upon a scene of turmoil.

Richard stood on the running board, yelling for order. Finally, he understood. "The President has been shot. Lincoln is dead."

Rebecca's head dropped. Her chin to her chest, she said a quick prayer and took a deep calming breath before starting to climb out of the wagon.

Jocko had been waiting for her. He sprang to her side and lifted her down, ready to escort her to Charlie. "Thank God, you are here." Lincoln and politics could wait.

At the back of the wagon, Walt Whitman quietly began to cry.

"If I could have come last night, I would have. Where is he?"