On to Richmond (36 page)

             
Thomas nodded.  “I know.  That wasn’t good enough for her.  She insisted some of the soldiers could have fallen through the cracks.  It wasn’t until she found Hobbs that she was satisfied you were all right.”

             
Robert shook his head again in amazement.  “Carrie found Hobbs?”

             
“He was being nursed by a lady who had taken in two other soldiers. He left for the front again last week.   He told her about how you saved his life.  It was a brave thing to do,” Thomas said warmly.

             
Robert shrugged his shoulders, embarrassed.  “Anyone would have done it.”

             
“I don’t think so,” Thomas observed. 

             
Robert was glad to hear Hobbs was all right, but his thoughts were focused on the reality that Carrie cared so much.  He could envision her going door-to-door, determined in her quest.  Suddenly his frustration swept over him, and he almost groaned out loud.  He wished this war would end.  Maybe then he and Carrie could spend enough time together to work out their differences.  Then he remembered the finality with which she had turned down his proposal.  They were worlds apart on an issue he couldn’t imagine changing his mind about. 

             
“There’s something else you need to know, Robert,” Thomas said, breaking into his thoughts.

             
Robert looked up, trying to control the frustration on his face.  “About Carrie?”

             
“No.  About Matthew.”

             
“Matthew?”  Robert asked, confused.  “Matthew Justin?”

             
Thomas nodded.  “He is here in the prison.”

             
Robert took a deep breath and settled back against his chair.  Was there to be no end to the surprises of this visit?  “Matthew was captured at Bull Run?”

             
“Yes,” Thomas said.  “But not as a soldier.  He was there as a correspondent for his paper.”  Briefly, he told him all he knew.

             
“Can you get me in to see him, Thomas?”

             
“I thought you had to leave early tomorrow morning?”

             
“I do.  But I will just have to take the next train.  I want to see him.”  Pain shot through him at the idea of his friend in prison.  The faces of the Union men during the battle had all blurred into nothing but blue uniforms.  It had not even seemed like he was firing at real men.  They had simply become the enemy.  Now one of the enemy had taken on an identity - the identity of one of his closest friends. 

             
Thomas nodded.  “I’ll see what I can do.  Meet me tomorrow morning at my office.  There may not be time to get a letter, but I’ll try.”

Bright and early the next morning, before most of the city was even stirring, Robert stood outside the gates to the prison
and stared up at its imposing walls.  In his hand was the letter Thomas had managed to procure for him.  He knew Thomas had gone way beyond the call of duty to get it.  He would find a way to pay him back. 

             
The guard who opened the door snapped to attention and was immediately courteous when he saw his uniform.  “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

             
“I’m here to see one of the prisoners.”

             
“I’m sorry, sir, the prisoners are not allowed to have visitors.”

             
Silently, Robert handed him the letter.  The guard looked at him more closely.  “Come in, sir.  I will get Lieutenant Todd for you.”

             
Robert followed him into the building and looked around as they walked.  He could hear the sounds of men moving around on the floor above him.  Occasionally he would hear a yell or a bark of laughter. 

             
“Wait here, sir.” 

             
Within moments the guard was back with Lieutenant Todd.  Robert had met him during the training days out at the old fairgrounds.  “Lieutenant,” he said with a smile.  “It’s good to see you again.”

             
Todd nodded but didn’t smile.  “You are here to see Matthew Justin?”

             
“That’s correct.”  Instantly Robert was on his guard.  “He is still here, isn’t he?”

             
“Yes.”

             
Robert held his gaze, waiting for him to continue. 

             
“Who is this man?  Why is he so important?”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
None of the officers here have had visitors.  This man, this journalist, has had three.”

             
“Three?”

             
Todd nodded.  “First there was that Carrie Cromwell.  Then a black girl named Opal came with the same letter from General Winder.  Now you.  What’s up?” he asked suspiciously.

             
Robert shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Matthew is a friend of mine.”

             
Todd sneered.  “I don’t know if I would go around telling people you are friends with one of the enemy.  It could be taken in the wrong way.  People might wonder where your loyalties lie.”

             
Robert flushed with anger.  “No one who knows me will wonder where my loyalties lie.  Those who don’t aren’t important enough for me to worry about.”

             
Lieutenant Todd’s lips tightened in fury, but he didn’t say anything else.  “Call Justin,” he snapped to the guard and strode from the hallway.  Seconds later, a door slammed in the distance.

             
“Is he always so pleasant?” Robert asked with a grin.

             
The guard shrugged but there was an apologetic look on his smooth face.  “I guess the lieutenant don’t want nobody questioning
his
loyalty.”

             
“Why would anyone…?”  Robert stopped, remembering what someone had told him.  “He’s the president’s brother-in-law.”

             
“Yeah.  He may always feel like he’s got something to prove.  I can tell you, though, he’s Southern through and through.”

             
“I’m sure he is,” Robert murmured.  He was also quite sure Todd made an intimidating prison official. 

             
The guard escorted him to a room and told him to wait.  Twenty minutes passed before he heard approaching footsteps.  He looked up as the door swung open.  Matthew was leaner than when he had last seen him, but he looked in good health.  And his blue eyes held the same sparkle. 

             
“Robert Borden!”  Matthew exclaimed with a smile.

             
“Hello, my friend.  Not much of a hotel you picked for your visit here.”

             
“Oh, I don’t know.  I got me a place on the floor and three meals a day.  That’s probably more than a lot of people are getting around here.”

             
Robert laughed and then slapped his friend on the back.  He hadn’t lost his sense of humor.  “It’s good to see you, Matthew.  Even though these aren’t the circumstances I would have picked.”

             
“Me either,” Matthew remarked wryly.  “I’ve learned we don’t always get to pick our circumstances.  We just get to deal with them.”

             
Robert nodded, eyeing him closely.  “So how are you dealing with this one?  Thomas said he has done all he can to try to obtain your freedom, but no prisoners are being released or exchanged yet.”

             
Matthew shrugged.  “Like I said, it’s not that bad.  I have become close to some of the officers.  We find things to talk about.  I’m even learning how to cook,” he said with a grin.  “Even if it is limited to bacon and biscuits. My mother would fall over in shock.”  Then he looked thoughtful.  “I’m luckier than most, I guess.  Carrie has one of her slaves who is now working in Richmond bring me fresh vegetables every few days.  I stretch them with the rest of the prisoners as far as I can.” 

             
“That sounds like Carrie,” Robert murmured.

             
Matthew nodded.  “And I’ve got lots of time to write.  Carrie made sure that Opal brought me plenty of paper.”

             
Matthew stopped talking, and the silence stretched between them.  Robert cast in his mind for something to say to break the awkwardness.  Finally, he reached out his hand and laid it on top of his friend’s.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry you’re here.  I wish I could do something.”

             
“Thank you,” Matthew said gruffly, blinking back suspicious moisture.

             
Suddenly the air between them was clear.  As they looked at each other, the prison walls and the locked room faded away.  Once more they were college boys’ going on exploits together.  They were young men who confided dreams and hopes to each other. 

             
“This war is ripping friendships and families apart,” Matthew said.  “I had no idea you would come to see me.”

             
“I would have found a way to get here sooner if I’d known.  I just found out last night.”  Briefly Robert told Matthew of his visit to Thomas Cromwell.

             
Matthew listened and then looked at him closely.  “So you are now a lieutenant in the Confederate Army.  How goes it?”

             
Robert shrugged, suddenly unsure of what he could say, even to his friend.  How much would loyalty demand Matthew reveal?  What if he had a way of imparting information?  He hated thinking such thoughts, but he couldn’t help it.  There was too much at stake.    He decided to change the subject.  “I think I’d rather be at home on my plantation.  I think of Oak Meadows daily.  I got a letter from my mother a few weeks ago.  She is doing the best she can, but things are hard.”

             
The expression on Matthew’s face told him his friend knew what he was doing.  It also told him he understood.  He seemed to search for a safe topic.  “I think this war is going to take on a face no one anticipated.  Not even the men who authored it.”

             
Robert sighed to himself with relief.  The overall picture he was willing to talk about.  It was the specifics he felt compelled to remain silent on.  He nodded.  “There were too many people, I think, on both sides, who thought this war would never happen.  Everyone waited for everyone else to back down.”

             
Matthew nodded grimly.  “I’m afraid my profession had its hand in bringing things to where they are now.  The press was merciless about keeping the heat up.  You could hardly read a Northern newspaper without hearing something about
On to Richmond!
   In the end, I think it propelled both governments into a conflict neither was really ready for.” 

             
Robert wanted to protest that the South had overwhelmingly won at Manassas.  Honesty kept him silent.  He knew how disorganized the battle had been.  He knew how many strokes of luck had put men in the right place at the right time.  He also knew how hard the North was working now to build up their army to make sure the same thing didn’t happen again.  He chose ambivalence over a position.  “Southern papers played their own part in what happened,” he responded.

             
Suddenly Robert grew impatient with the verbal game it was necessary for them to play.  “Look,” he said firmly.  “Let’s not talk about the war at all.  We know it’s out there, we know we’re both involved - we know we stand on different sides.  So be it.  There is more to us than this war.  Tell me about you.  Tell me about what you think about when you are locked up in prison.” 

             
Matthew smiled.  “You’re right.  We may be a Northerner and a Southerner, but we are something more important than that.  We are friends.”