Spring Will Come (2 page)

             
Carrie groaned as the chorus of agreement rose from the men around her. 

             
One of the hospital wards, a kindly man in his mid-forties, laughed as he entered the room.  “Looks like it’s going to be a while before they get tired of
that
story!  Kind of nice to have a hero around here,” he said.  He dropped a pile of fresh bandages on the table next to the door, winked at her, chuckled at her grimace, and left. 

             
“Come on, Miss Cromwell.  Tell it to us!”  Walker urged again.

             
Carrie had told the story so many times that even in her dreams she narrated the events.  Yet, the soldiers seemed to love it, and she could see the hope it sparked in their eyes.  If a lady could outwit the Union army, then there was not so much to be afraid of after all.   A quick look satisfied her there were no immediate needs in the ward.   She laid aside her writing supplies and forced her thoughts back.  “Just a few weeks ago I was busy growing crops on my father’s plantation.”

             
“Cromwell Plantation,” Walker interrupted.

             
Carrie nodded then continued, “Anyway, we were trying to grow crops to feed the hungry people in Richmond.  Instead of planting tobacco, we were planting food crops.  We had corn, beans, peppers, okra - oh, all kinds of things.”  Carrie tried not to envision the wasted effort.   “I didn’t realize how close the Union army was until I heard the sounds of the battle in Williamsburg.”

             
“That’s the one where I lost my arm!”  Samuel said proudly.

             
Carrie heard the tinge of pain in his voice and smiled at him warmly.  “The day after the battle, my father’s slaves had finally convinced me to leave the plantation and come to Richmond, but before I could leave, the Union soldiers came searching for food.  They broke into my house.”

             
“If they was looking for food, why’d they break into your house?” a new patient asked.   “I heard they was clearing fields and smokehouses.  I thought most everyone had already high tailed it for Richmond, anyway.”

             
Carrie frowned, anger sharpening her usually pleasant voice.  “There was a man who betrayed me.  He told them I was still on the plantation.”  Her eyes took on a remote look as the memory of that day flashed before her.  She clamped her jaw shut, a muscle twitching in her cheek. Her father’s old overseer, Ike Adams, had sent the soldiers to rape her.

             
“How’d you get away?” one of the men near her asked anxiously. 

             
Carrie knew Howard, a Georgia farm boy, had just come in that morning.  This was his first time hearing the story.  “I managed to hide from them until they quit searching the house.  Then I snuck out to the barn and waited for it to get dark.”  Once again, she wasn’t telling the whole story, but the secret of the tunnel under Cromwell Plantation was going to stay just that - a secret.

             
“How in the world did you hide from them?” Howard asked.  “I’ve heard about how Yankees search a house!”

             
“Let’s just say I have my ways...”  Walker sang out in a high falsetto.

             
Carrie laughed with the rest of the men at Walker’s imitation of her standard response.  Then she continued.  “Anyway, I waited till about midnight and then managed to jump on my horse and race past the guards outside the barn.”

             
“And get this,” Walker broke in again.  “She was riding that horse bareback.  A great big Thoroughbred! This pretty, little, slender thing rode that horse just like a man!”  Then he sobered.  “I’m sorry, Miss Cromwell.  I need to let you be telling your own story.” 

             
Carrie told the rest quickly.  People had tried to turn her into a hero for jumping Granite over a tall fence even after being shot in the shoulder in her attempt to escape.  She still had occasional dreams about her ride through the dark woods alone before she had finally connected with Warren Hobbs, the soldier Robert had sent to help her.   She had made it.  That was what counted.

             
Her story worked its usual magic on the patients listening to her.   If turning her into a hero helped their own morale, she would just keep on telling it.   It also helped to take her focus off Robert.  Daily she battled the fear of what this war could do to the man she loved. 

             
“Them Yankees ain’t no big deal!”

             
“Yeah, even a woman can outwit them!”

             
“Yeah, it may have been a Yankee that put me in this hospital, but I bet there’s three or four I put in one of theirs!” another boasted. 

             
Carrie let them talk as she moved from bed to bed checking on the condition of the patients.  Not that she could do anything if she found a need - other than call a doctor, or nurse, or one of the ward aides.  It had been made clear to her from the beginning that her sole job was to dispense comfort to the soldiers by reading to them, listening to them, or writing letters for them.  Anything medical was to be done by one of the male employees.   Her eyes flashed with anger as she recalled the words of a doctor when she had tried to point out to him that one of the soldiers was developing an infection in a wound. 

             
“My dear Miss Cromwell,”
he had drawled in a patronizing tone.
“I hardly think I need your assistance in this manner.  Such a thing is not really suitable for a lady.  I would think you would be rather embarrassed to have an interest in such things as
medicine.  Surely you know that interest such as this would be nothing but injurious to the delicacy and refinement of a lady.” 
He had looked at her in a way that indicated there were grave reasons to have doubts about her being a lady.  Then he had continued...
“I realize you are probably just trying to be helpful in this most trying time, but it will not help our cause to have our ladies’ natures become deteriorated, or to have their sensibilities blunted.  You just give our soldiers a little comfort and care.  Leave the medical care in our hands.” 

             
He had patted her hand and walked from the ward, leaving her to fume and pound pillows into shapeless submission on the beds she was straightening.  All her anger had done was cause her shoulder to ache.  Since that time her anger had steeled into determination.  She had wanted to be a doctor since she was little girl, but she had a long, uphill battle ahead of her.  There had already been plenty of warnings that she would be greeted with prejudice and ignorance at every turn.  She would just have to get used to it.  Someday it would be different. 

             
“Your green eyes are flashing up a storm, Miss Cromwell.  Did one of the soldiers in here do something to make you angry?”  Samuel asked.  “You just give me the word.  I’ll take care of it!”

             
Samuel’s concerned voice broke into Carrie’s thoughts.  Instantly she replaced what must surely be a frown with a smile.  If she was going to bring cheer into this ward, she would have to do a better job of hiding her feelings.  “Of course not, Samuel!” she said brightly.  “You boys are the light of my life.”  She settled down in the chair beside him.  “Didn’t you tell me you have a grandmother who is very special to you?  Don’t you think she would like a letter from you, too?  One just for her?”

             
“Granny?  Why, sure.  I bet she’d think that was really something - getting a letter from a real war hero!” 

             
He had started talking his letter even before Carrie picked up her paper and pen.  Writing swiftly, she filled several pages.   She had just signed his signature to it when she heard her name called.    Carrie looked up, smiling broadly.   “Hello, Janie.”

             
“Are you planning on staying here all day?  You promised your father you would have dinner with him tonight.”

             
Carrie glanced quickly at her watch.  “I completely lost track of time!”  In just moments she had gathered her things, called a good-bye to her patients, and followed her friend out the door.  A quick look at the sky confirmed her earlier suspicions.  The sky, now a deeper yellow, was outlined with boiling black clouds.  The heavy air was still stagnant, but if the clouds were any indication, a strong wind would be assaulting the city soon. 

             
“I think we have time to get home, but it looks like it’s going to be a bad one.”  Janie spoke quickly as she strode down the hill.

             
Carrie matched her stride.  She missed the plantation and all her father’s slaves who had become dear friends, but she was glad to be in Richmond with Janie.  They had exchanged letters on a daily basis since that fateful day when Carrie had assisted in saving Janie from a drunken soldier.  Next to Rose, her best friend since childhood, Janie was her closest friend.  “How did your day go?”

             
Janie shrugged.  “It was fine.”  She hesitated.  “If watching mere boys learn how to live their lives without arms and legs can ever be fine.”  Her voice sharpened.  “We lost three today in our ward.  Their bodies just couldn’t fight anymore...”  Her voice trailed off, and her eyes filled with tears.  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

             
“I pray to God you don’t!”  Carrie exclaimed, her eyes welling with moisture.  “I hope we never become immune to the death and suffering around us.  The only way for that to happen is for part of us to die.  I’d rather deal with the pain than become hardened.”

             
Janie nodded then changed the subject, obviously wanting to tread on lighter ground.  “Matron Pember got a letter from her sister today.” 

             
Carrie looked up at the sound of amusement in her voice.  “The one in New Orleans?”

             
“Yes.  It seems the ladies of New Orleans are not taking kindly to Union occupation.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
Janie made no effort to hide the laughter in her voice.  “Matron Pember’s sister evidently has the same strong personality she does.  Her letter said she was arrested on the charge of laughing as the remains of a Federal officer were borne past her residence.   She claims she was having a party at the time and the laughter was the result of something a child had done.  General Butler...”

             
“Who is certainly not a popular figure around there!”

             
“Exactly.  General Butler didn’t believe her and demanded she apologize.”

             
“Which, of course, she didn’t.”

             
“Of course not.  When she refused to apologize, General Butler called her a ‘vulgar woman of the town’ and banished her to Ship Island.”

             
“That tiny barren island of sand in the Gulf of Mexico?”  Carrie exclaimed.

             
Janie nodded.  “She wrote Matron Pember that her response to the general’s banishment was to tell him, ‘It has one advantage over the city, sir; you will not be there!”

             
Carrie laughed along with her friend.  “You’re right.  She’s definitely the matron’s sister.”  Then she sobered.  “I feel so badly for her, though.  What a terrible thing to be stuck out on that island.”  Her sympathy was compounded by the genuine affection she had developed for the no-nonsense, outspoken Matron Pember.  The matron had overheard the doctor’s comments that had so infuriated Carrie.  She had waited for her in the hallway and told her not to be bothered by the doctor, that soon the South would be begging for women with medical ability.  Her exact words still rang in Carrie’s mind.

             
“The South is sending off all its men.  The time will come soon enough when it will be the women who will save the day.  Things will never be the same after that!”

             
Janie nodded but was still smiling.  “Matron Pember says the Union will probably send her back.  She is sure her sister will give them no rest.”

             
Carrie laughed.  “From what I can tell, there are a lot of women in New Orleans like her.”

             
“The matron’s letter told more about that.   The women there are spitting on the soldiers, regaling them with derogatory remarks and gestures.  Why, one lady even dumped the contents of her chamber pot on General Butler’s head as he was passing under her balcony.”  Janie’s laugh rang out.

             
Carrie spun and regarded her with flashing eyes.  “Janie Winthrop!  You can’t possibly think that is respectable behavior.  Those soldiers are just doing their job!”

             
Janie shrugged.  “Maybe.  But I have a feeling I will feel the same way if those Union soldiers out there take over Richmond.  How are you going to like having to bow to their every whim if they take the city?”   She turned to glare at Carrie.

             
Carrie thought about it for a minute.   “Pouring a chamber pot on his head.  Ugh!”  The sound of her disgusted voice as she pictured it sent Janie off into peals of laughter again.  Soon both of them were doubled over with mirth.  In the midst of war, it was difficult to find a reason to laugh.  They took what you could get.