Let There Be Light (16 page)

Jenny rose from the chair and sighed. “Well, it’s time I cleaned this house up good, as I always do on my day off.”

Though her body felt the strain of so little sleep the past three nights, she swept every room except her mother’s, and used a feather duster after sweeping. In the kitchen, she mopped the floor, then polished the table and gave the counter a good scouring. While doing these familiar chores, it a brought a calmness to her and a small contented smile curved her lips.

She went back to her room and changed the linens on her bed, making a mental note to do the same for her mother when she awakened. She would then do the washing.

With everything done as much as possible at that point, Jenny returned to her mother’s room. As she moved up quietly beside the bed, Myrna Linden was still in a deep sleep.

Jenny stroked her mother’s hair softly.
The sedative is really working. She needs the rest, for sure
.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had only had a cup of tea since supper last night. She noted by the clock on her mother’s dresser that it was almost noon.

As she walked back toward the kitchen, Jenny admired the clean house, and was pleased with her hard work of the morning. Letting herself daydream for a moment, she pictured what her own home
would be like when she and Nate married.

There was a pang in her heart as the impression forced itself into her thoughts:
That is, if he lives through the War to come home to me
.

Entering the kitchen, Jenny stoked up the fire in the stove, put a pot of coffee on, then sliced a piece of cold roast beef. She cut a wedge of pungent cheese and after slathering two slices of bread with creamy butter, made a sandwich. When the coffee was hot, she sat down and enjoyed the sandwich and coffee, along with a soft molasses cookie.

As Jenny was cleaning up after eating, a deep feeling of lassitude invaded her already weary body. She went to her mother’s room, and when she found her still sleeping peacefully, she sat in the overstuffed chair nearby. Her eyes grew heavy immediately, and in less than a minute, her chin fell to her chest and her own eyes closed in sleep.

More than three hours had passed when Jenny was drawn from her slumber by the sound of her mother’s covers rustling. She raised her head, rubbed her eyes, and found her mother looking at her. She sat up straight and let a tiny smile curve her lips. “How are you feeling, Mama?”

Myrna smiled back. “I’m better, honey. You were sleeping when I woke up a few minutes ago. I had to change positions. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

Jenny rose from the chair and took hold of her mother’s hand. “It’s all right, Mama. I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Your eyes are much clearer than they were this morning.”

“Jenny … I—”

“What, Mama?”

“I was just thinking …”

“Yes?”

“Is … is there some way you could find out from army headquarters in Washington, D.C., if your papa survived that battle near Rome, Georgia? Certainly they would know.”

Jenny shook her head. “No, Mama. I didn’t tell you, but I investigated this very thing a few days ago. I went to the army recruiting office downtown. They told me that the army knows with reasonable accuracy how many men are killed, wounded, and missing in
battles, but they do not register the dead and missing for public information. The army simply doesn’t have the personnel to handle such a formidable task.”

Myrna’s countenance fell. “Oh.”

Jenny raised the hand she held to her lips and kissed it. “Mama, we’ll just have to wait till the War is over. Papa will come home to us.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well, I can’t, but we have to keep our hopes up. It’s the same thing I have to do about Nate. We can’t give up, Mama.”

Myrna’s eyes filled with tears. Jenny leaned down and hugged her, and Myrna clung to her for several minutes.

When Myrna let go, she wiped her tears with the sheet. “What would I do without my precious daughter?”

Jenny smiled. “You’ll never have to worry about that. I’ll always be close to you, even after Nate and I get married.”

Myrna bit her lips again and patted Jenny’s hand. Her eyes grew heavy, and within a few minutes, she settled into a light sleep.

Jenny sat back down in the overstuffed chair. She told herself she would have to continue to encourage her mother by putting on an optimistic attitude, though the optimism was only on the surface. Inside, she feared that she would never see her father or Nate again.

That night, after administering the paraldehyde and the sedative to her mother per Dr. Griffin’s specifications, Jenny crawled wearily into her bed. Her thoughts were on her father and Nate as she fell asleep.

Moments later, in her dream, she was standing in the Harrisburg railroad station, watching the army train roll in. The crowd of people all around her was in a jovial mood, talking about how the Civil War had ended weeks before and they were eagerly waiting for their beloved soldiers to arrive.

When the train rolled to a halt with a loud hiss from the bowels of the engine, Jenny’s anxious blue eyes darted from coach to coach as uniformed men began to get off. Wives, mothers, and sweethearts were rushing to the men.

Suddenly, she saw her father appear on the rear platform of one of the cars, looking around. She ran to him. “Papa! Papa! Papa!”

A smile broke over his face when he spotted her, and he hurried down the steps. “Jenny, honey,” he said, “you’re prettier than ever!”

She clung to him with all her might. At the same moment, she looked over his shoulder and to her delight, she saw Nate getting off the train. Their eyes met, and Nate dashed to her. She let go of her father, and was folded into Nate’s arms while Captain William Linden looked on with a smile.

After a few minutes of exchanging words of love, Jenny and Nate drew back to look into each other’s eyes.

Nate drew a deep breath and smiled from ear to ear. “Sweetheart, I love you so much.”

“And I love you so much, darling,” she said.

Nate looked at Captain Linden. “Sir, I want to ask you something very important.”

William smiled. “Of course, Lieutenant. What is it?”

“May I have your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

Jenny’s heart was banging her ribs as she waited for her father’s reply.

William’s smile was still there. “Of course, young man. I know that both of you love each other, and I’m happy to give my permission.”

Suddenly Jenny was sitting up in her bed, breathing heavily. Moonlight was streaming through the window, giving the room a silver glow.
Only a dream
, she thought.
I can only hope that both Papa and Nate live to make that moment come true
.

I
T WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON
on Saturday, October 15, when the army wagons from Macon pulled through the gate of Andersonville Prison Camp with the new group of ninety-one Union prisoners.

At gunpoint, several guards ordered the prisoners to get out of the wagons and assembled them in front of Captain Henry Wirz’s log cabin, just inside the gate. They were told to stand at attention, which they did, though most of them did it reluctantly.

Inside the cabin, Lieutenant Harry Fisher stood at one of the small windows while the prison commandant sat at his desk. Fisher turned and said, “They’re ready, sir.”

Wirz nodded, rose from his desk chair, and headed toward the door. Fisher preceded him and opened the door. The captain put on a stern face and stepped past Fisher, who closed the door and followed, halting at the captain’s side, a half step to the rear.

Wirz introduced himself, then laid down the rules to the new prisoners in a harsh voice, warning that if the rules were broken, the guilty parties would suffer the consequences, which were always severe. Wirz pointed out the dead line around the inside of the stockade fence. He cautioned them about prisoners moving inside the flimsy cordon, then told them the number who had been shot to death who had ignored the rule.

An invisible cloud of gloom hung heavily over the men in blue uniforms.

Wirz let his line of sight roam over the group, noting that there was one captain and three lieutenants. “We’re heavy on inmates, so we’re short on canvas and blankets. We’ll provide what we can, and you boys will have to make do.” He pointed with his head toward the man behind him. “This is Lieutenant Harry Fisher, chief of the prison guards. I warn you, he is not the man to rile. Obey any and all orders he gives you immediately, without question or comment. Lieutenant Fisher, I want you to take a sufficient number of your men and lead these new prisoners to the area they will occupy.”

Fisher took a step that brought him close to the commandant’s side. “Yes, sir.”

Wirz lifted a finger, signaling that he wanted to say something else. Eyes roaming the enemy faces, he said, “Since winter is not far away, if you Yankees want to dig holes in the ground in your assigned spot to help give some shelter from the cold nights, you will be given shovels. You will do the digging while these armed guards look on.” The commandant’s face hardened. “If any of you should try to use the shovels as weapons against the guards, you will be shot down like rabid dogs! We have plenty of space in our graveyard outside the stockade. There is sufficient room for your dead body. Keep that in mind at all times.”

The prisoners stood silently, exchanging troubled glances.

Wirz returned to his cabin, and Fisher chose ten guards to accompany the new men to their assigned area they would call home.

While Fisher and the guards were escorting the new men past areas occupied by Union prisoners who looked on in silence, Lieutenant Edgar Toomey slipped up beside Captain William Linden and whispered, “You got us into this mess, Linden. If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this pig sty of a prison camp.”

“I would rather be in this prison camp than to be free and know I was a cowardly deserter.”

Toomey’s face darkened. “Are you callin’ me a cowardly deserter?”

“That’s exactly what you are!”

Toomey released a gust of hot breath and moved back with his friends, Lewis and Zediker. Keeping his voice low, he told them what Linden had just said. As they looked at Toomey with frowns on their brows, he hissed, “He’s gonna die! One way or another, I’m gonna kill ‘im!”

When they reached the area the new prisoners would occupy, Lieutenant Harry Fisher stood before them. He pointed out the small piles of tattered cloth and canvas, along with some broken tree limbs that could be used to support them as shelters.

“Now listen to me. You are to stay in this area, which as you can see, is bordered by a line of small stones around the perimeter. All the areas in the compound are marked off the same way. You are not to move among the other prisoners. That is a hard and fast regulation. Believe me, you don’t want to face the consequence of disobeying this edict. When it’s time for meals or bathing in the stream that runs through here, you will be led by guards. The privies are quite visible from here. You will visit them one at a time and walk the path that leads directly to them. Never step off the path. Guards will be watching you at all times. Break the rules, and you will be sorry.”

At that moment, two guards approached the area. One was carrying a roll of canvas, and the other bore two sturdy pieces of tree limbs, uniform in length, along with four short ones to be used as stakes. “What is your name, Captain?” asked Fisher.

“William Linden,” came the soft reply.

“Well, Captain Linden, I have ordered a tent for you. We supply them for those prisoners with the rank of captain or above.”

Linden shook his head. “Thank you, Lieutenant Fisher, but I can’t do that. My shelter should be no better than those of my men.”

“Hey, Captain!” spoke up a lieutenant. “It’s all right. We men of A Company want you to take it, right, fellas?”

There was a chorus of voices expressing agreement. Abstaining were Toomey, Lewis, and Zediker.

When Linden shook his head, declining, the same voices pressed him to accept Fisher’s offer. Finally, Linden nodded, ran his gaze over their faces, and said, “All right, since you insist. And thank you.”

Toomey, Lewis, and Zediker looked at each other with sour expressions on their faces.

The guard who held the canvas placed it in Linden’s hands, and the other guard gave him the lengths of tree limbs and the stakes.

When the guards left, the men went to work to make themselves shelters with what little materials had been provided.

Edgar Toomey picked up his share of cloth, canvas, and broken tree limbs, and glared at Captain Linden, who was stretching out the canvas to set up his one-man tent. While Toomey was putting the materials together to make his crude shelter, he glanced at the nearest area to the east, which was some thirty yards away. He saw a husky Union sergeant who was adjusting a pole on a complete one-man canvas tent. His eyes bulged. He told himself the tent couldn’t belong to a mere sergeant. It had to belong to an officer. But when the sergeant slipped inside and closed the flap, he knew the tent was his.

Looking around, Toomey couldn’t see any guards nearby. He headed across his own assigned area in the direction of the adjacent one.

“Hey, Edgar!” came Corporal Todd Zediker’s voice.

Toomey paused and looked over his shoulder at him. “Where you goin’?”

“Just takin’ a little walk. See you later.” With that, he crossed the line of small stones and hurried toward his destination.

Keith Lewis drew up beside Zediker, watching Toomey go. “What’s he doin’?”

Zediker shrugged. “I haven’t the least idea.”

Suddenly, Captain William Linden was beside them. “He’s fixing to get himself in trouble, that’s what he’s doing.”

Both of them looked at Linden coldly.

He met their frigid eyes. “You two are going to suffer if you continue to follow him. He’s on a beeline for the whipping post.”

Without a word, they turned their backs on him and walked away.

Linden glanced across the open area as Toomey was stepping over the stone line at the other area, shook his head, and went back to setting up his tent.