Mrs. Lincoln's Rival (18 page)

Bloody Fight Between the Soldiers and the Mob.

Two Soldiers and Seven Citizens Killed.

The Volunteers Succeed in Forcing their Way Through.

Total Destruction of the Arsenal at Harper’s Ferry by the Federal Troops

Seizure of Northern Vessels in Virginia.

“But Maryland is in the Union,” said Susan, looking faint. “How could such a dreadful thing happen there?”

“Southern sympathizers are everywhere,” said Kate, folding up the paper and urging her companions on home as quickly as they could.

The nation was crumbling, but more than two hundred miles to the southwest, she knew that her father was fighting valiantly to hold it together. She longed to be there to support him, to lend him all the skills at her disposal, to do whatever she could to help him in that unprecedented crisis. Two days more, she told herself firmly. Two days more, and she and Nettie would be home.

But the next day, more news from Baltimore dashed her hopes. In the final study of the riot, it was determined that at least three soldiers and nine civilians had been killed and scores more injured. The damage to property had been even more devastating than originally known, for after the federal troops had escaped, frenzied Southern sympathizers had destroyed railroad tracks leading to the north, burned bridges, and severed telegraph lines, isolating Washington City from the rest of the Union.

Washington stood alone, stranded and imperiled, surrounded by enemies—and yet it was the only place Kate wished to be, and utterly impossible to reach.

• • •

The news that Washington was vulnerable sent a frisson of urgency racing through the North. While young men rushed to join regiments and engineers raced to repair the damaged bridges and railroad tracks, governors ordered their newly mustered regiments to Washington and military officers contrived other ways to transport them there, since Baltimore remained impassable.

In many ways, ordinary life continued much as it always had, though not unaffected by the escalating crisis. When the bridal party and guests gathered at the Aspinwall residence at the corner of University Place and Twelfth Street for the wedding reception, the Stars and Stripes was proudly displayed, and within, the elegant rooms were adorned with exquisite rare plants and shrubs and decorations of red, white, and blue, lending the celebration the air of a military ball.

The bride and groom were the guests of honor, of course, but second only to them came Major Anderson. When he and Kate were introduced shortly before dinner, he accepted her compliments with gracious humility, observing that he had endeavored to do his duty at Fort Sumter, as any other loyal officer would have done in his place. He looked to Kate to be in his midfifties and was of medium height but slender build, perhaps due to the deprivations of the siege. Clean-shaven, with a hawk-like nose, elegant features bronzed by the sun, and brown hair that waved back from a high forehead, he had an air of quiet strength that even his evident fatigue did not diminish.

Kate listened, fascinated, as he politely responded to the many questions posed to him about his ordeal. He spoke plainly, without evident embellishment of his deeds, in a voice that carried the accents of his native Kentucky.

“Is it true,” one wide-eyed matron asked, “that before you left Fort Moultrie for Sumter, you cut down the flagstaff there?”

“I did order it done,” the major acknowledged. “I knew that as soon as we quit Fort Moultrie, the South Carolinians would seize the fort, and I didn’t want any other flag but the Stars and Stripes to fly from that staff.”

A murmur of admiration and respect went through the group, but the conversation was interrupted by the summons to dinner. Kate fell into step beside him as they went to take their places. “Forgive me, Major Anderson,” she said, smiling. “If you have grown weary of the subject of Fort Sumter, say the word and I shall ask your opinion of the weather instead.”

“Ask whatever you wish, Miss Chase,” he said, returning her smile. “I will do my best to answer well.”

“How did you keep your men’s courage from faltering over so many months?” she asked. “It’s a question of great importance to me, because I suspect we’ll all need encouragement in the months ahead.”

A thoughtful look came into his deep-set brown eyes, and when he halted in the corridor to consider his response, she paused too. “The men were brave, well trained and well disciplined,” he told her. “It was not in their nature to panic or to surrender, despite the deprivations they endured.”

“What will happen now?” Kate asked. “Some Northerners have argued that if Fort Sumter were surrendered to South Carolina, their rebellious people would be mollified, and they would willingly return to the Union.”

“I truly doubt that will happen,” Major Anderson said. “Or rather, Miss Chase, I am sadly confident that it will not. Our Southern brethren have done grievously wrong. They have rebelled and have attacked their father’s house and their loyal brothers. They will not return to the Union unless forced to do so. They must be punished and brought back, but this necessity breaks my heart.”

• • •

The days passed, and as the newspapers reported the progress of regiments from Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Ohio, and other loyal states to Washington, Kate impatiently waited for railroad service to be fully restored. At last word came that regiments had arrived in the captial and had immediately begun shoring up its defenses—but Kate’s expectations that she and Nettie might finally go home were quickly dashed. Baltimore remained a dangerous nest of Southern collusion, and neither Father nor Mr. Barney wanted the sisters to attempt the journey unprotected.

“Mrs. Lincoln remains in Washington,” Kate pointed out to Susan. “Is she braver than I? If the capital is safe enough for the president’s wife, it is safe enough for me.”

“Washington City may be safe enough,” Susan acknowledged, “but getting there is another matter.”

Near the end of April, Colonel Ellsworth and his Zouaves were sent off to Washington in grand style, with the presentation of numerous banners and guide flags in a splendid ceremony in front of the company’s headquarters on Canal Street, stirring speeches by a representative from the New York Fire Department and Colonel Ellsworth, and a magnificent procession of soldiers and fire engines up Broadway, to the Astor House, past City Hall, and down Canal Street toward the North River. Massive crowds lined the parade route, especially around Collins’s wharf, where the troops boarded the
Baltic
for transport to Washington. Once aboard, the Zouaves, gallantly attired in their red caps and shirts, with black pants and trim of gold braid, and each man shouldering a new Sharps rifle, were met on the upper deck by Mr. Cassius Clay, who offered rousing oration in their honor, evoking loud and prolonged cheers from the thousands of onlookers.

After the ceremony, Kate accompanied Mr. Barney down to the ship to bid Colonel Ellsworth one last farewell and to offer her heartfelt wishes for his success and safety. “If you happen to see my father,” she added, “please tell him that I am determined to return to Washington as soon as I can find an escort who can assure our safety.”

“I will certainly pass on your message,” the colonel replied, “but Miss Chase, had I known you wished to join your father in the capital, I would have been honored to escort you and your sister. I would have given you my own stateroom aboard the
Baltic
.”

“I confess it had not occurred to me to ask,” said Kate, dismayed. “I wish with all my heart that I had.”

“As do I,” Colonel Ellsworth said. “When you do return to Washington City, I hope I may have the great pleasure of dancing with you again.”

“I hope so too,” she said. “Do be careful while you’re out there defending the city so bravely, so that you will be fit for dancing afterward.”

She should have been on that ship, Kate thought, her heart sinking as she watched it depart. She and Nettie could have been on their way home at that very moment.

She vowed not to let another opportunity slip through her fingers.

• • •

On the first day of May, Mr. Barney returned from dining out with Major Anderson with the news that the officer had been attached to the Department of the East and had been assigned the command of the division at Fort Hamilton, including the fortifications and garrisons in New York harbor and its vicinity. The day before, he had visited the fort on the southwestern tip of Brooklyn to muster and inspect troops stationed there, but he was expected to travel to Washington soon in order to present himself to Secretary of War Cameron.

“Soon?” Kate asked. “How soon?”

“Tomorrow or the next day,” Mr. Barney replied.

“Perhaps he would allow Nettie and me to accompany him.”

“Oh, yes, please,” exclaimed Nettie. “I like him very much, and I miss Father.”

Mr. and Mrs. Barney exchanged a look, and when Mrs. Barney gave a slight nod, Mr. Barney agreed that Kate could inquire.

She immediately wrote Major Anderson an earnest, charming letter describing their plight. A few hours dragged by, until a messenger brought Major Anderson’s reply: He would be honored to escort the daughters of Secretary Chase home to Washington City, if they could be ready to depart two days hence.

Early in the morning two days later, after sharing tearful farewells and promises to write often, Mr. Barney accompanied Kate and Nettie in the carriage to the train station, where he entrusted them to the care of Major Anderson. “There’s always a place for you in our home,” Mr. Barney said in parting, but although he smiled, his brow was furrowed, his eyes anxious.

At noon their train pulled into Philadelphia, where a crowd had gathered in expectation of Major Anderson’s arrival. Rest had revived the exhausted officer, so he willingly stepped out upon the platform to greet the well-wishers, although he modestly declined their calls for a speech. Kate and Nettie stepped off the train too, for a breath of fresh air and a chance to stretch their legs, and while they were waiting for the whistle to announce their imminent departure, Kate spied what looked to be an entire company of blue-clad Union soldiers boarding the train. Among their gear they carried eight large, locked boxes, which evidently were quite heavy and very important, for they were never left unguarded. Nettie cleared her throat softly and nudged Kate’s arm gently with her own, so Kate knew her curiosity had been piqued too.

Two officers broke away from the company and approached Major Anderson, and after edging closer, Kate overheard enough to learn that the company was also en route to Washington, and that they carried with them half a million dollars in specie.

“What’s specie?” Nettie murmured in Kate’s ear.

“Coins,” Kate said. “It must be contributions for the war—loans, perhaps, or funds raised from bonds.”

“Will they be delivered to Father, do you suppose?”

Kate smiled, imagining the soldiers solemnly carrying the heavy boxes to Father’s elegant office and dropping them with resounding thuds on the beautiful carpet. “I don’t think so, but if the specie is for the government, it will be in Father’s charge in a sense, even if it’s locked away in a vault and he never sets eyes upon it.”

Nettie seemed intrigued by the idea, but at that moment the whistle blew, and so they hurried back aboard the train and returned to their private car, where Major Anderson soon joined them. “The two officers informed me that Baltimore is still dangerously unsettled, and the train tracks may not yet be in adequate repair,” he reported. “The company of soldiers you saw boarding the train will be taking a steamer from Perryville to Annapolis, and they have consented to let us travel with them.”

“Thank you, Major,” said Kate, smiling warmly, although she wondered what dangers had occasioned the change to their itinerary. “I’m sure the journey will be even more pleasant by steamer. The Chesapeake Bay should be lovely today.”

Three hours after departing Philadelphia, their train arrived in Perryville, Maryland, where the Susquehanna River emptied into the northern end of the Chesapeake Bay. They disembarked at the station to loud cheers for Major Anderson from yet another crowd of eager admirers, many of whom pushed forward to shake his hand. While they made arrangements for their luggage to be carried to the steamer
William Whilden
, Kate observed the soldiers filing off the train, their arms and gear made ready, and the eight heavy boxes under watchful guard. Studying the crowd as Major Anderson escorted her and Nettie to the wharf, she hoped that the presence of the hero of Fort Sumter would distract the throng’s attention away from the company’s precious cargo. The boxes were unmarked, so their appearance would not give away their contents, but their weight could not be so easily disguised.

When they arrived at the wharf, they discovered that the soldiers had formed two lines flanking the route to the gangplank, and at Major Anderson’s approach, they stood at attention and presented arms. Visibly moved by the spontaneous show of esteem, Major Anderson walked between the lines and boarded the ship, Kate and Nettie following close behind, proud to share in the honor given to their escort.

The
William Whilden
was not far off North Point, east of Baltimore, when a sailor shouted a warning that a ship had appeared in their wake. Kate, Nettie, and Major Anderson had been visiting the captain in the pilothouse, and they followed him as he strode out onto the deck and raised his spyglass to his eye. “I believe that’s a privateer,” he exclaimed, studying the unexpected vessel as it approached.

Nettie seized Kate’s hand as the captain called for increased speed. “Does he mean pirates?” she asked, her blue eyes wide with alarm.

“We’ll be fine,” Kate murmured, although her heart quaked. She thought again of the crowds of onlookers who had seen the soldiers carrying the heavy, unmarked boxes aboard the ship under vigilant guard. Any observer could have surmised that they held something of great value, and certain factions would also consider Major Anderson a prize worth capturing.

“We’re pulling away,” someone cried out, and as Kate watched, clutching Nettie’s sturdy hand in one of her own and the railing with the other, it did appear that they were gaining distance on the other ship. Then there was a commotion among the crew on the deck, shouts of alarm, and suddenly a cannonball came booming through the air above their heads. Nettie shrieked and dropped to the deck, pulling Kate down nearly upon her. As Kate regained her footing and helped her sister to stand, the brigand vessel fired another shot, even closer than before.