Angelina- Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE ~





  In looking back, I have tried to single out one event, one clarion moment as the one irretrievable step that changed everything, but it invariably collides together in my mind.

  I suppose if I had to pick a place to start it would have to be the day that my father decided he could no longer stand on the sidelines of our country’s unfolding tragedy and step forward to do what he could to save the land he loved from sure destruction. To my father that meant not only Roselawn, but Virginia.

  Although Virginia was technically a ‘slave state’, it had been progressively moving away from it for years. The need was no longer as great as it once was. Not to mention, there were a great many Virginians that had developed distaste for the idea of owning another human being. To my father, it had always been a morally repugnant idea. Perhaps it had come from his Irish grandparents and the knowledge of what being subjugated by moneyed and titled landowners had done to them. My father was the kind of man to feel that kind of bond in suffering with another human being. He would have seen it as the worst kind of hypocrisy to lay claim to another human soul.

Given this attitude it was not surprising that it took so long for Virginia to claim a side once the long road to war began and other states began to break from the Union.



As ambivalent as Virginia had become over the years regarding slavery, the constant talk of impending war and state’s rights had inflamed long cooled tempers on the subject. Ironically, to some, each state’s right to self-determination seemed to be irrevocably linked to their right to put another under their yoke. It was ridiculous in the extreme to my father, and every night he prayed that Virginia would not fall victim to secession fever.

That prayer would go unanswered when news reached us that Virginia had gone the way of so many other southern states. It was a day of sorrow and grief at Roselawn- there was no jubilation or excited conviction that the south was quickly dispatch the northern aggressors. We steeled ourselves for a long, bloody siege- shuddering at the thought of what the eventual cost would be. For almost a year after the secession call, the war did not affect us greatly. That would soon change.



In May 1862, my brother Colin returned home with news of his own. His boyhood desire had been to go to sea and one day captain his own ship. In the last year, he had received his master’s papers, and six months before, my father had helped him, along with a boyhood friend turned business partner to buy a ship. It was one of the new sleek and fast side-wheel steamers being built in Scotland. In fact, he had just taken delivery of the ship the month before, and had brought it back to show it off.

Just after the fall of Fort Sumter Lincoln had issued a blockade of all Southern ports, and although Colin’s ship nor he were engaged in military activities he didn’t dare bring the ship into Virginia waters. It was, at that moment, anchored near Wilmington, over two hundred miles south east of our home. We were all supposed to take the train to see it in the following days. All of this had been long arranged, but as predictions of war became more dire, plans for our excursion and Colin’s choice of profession developed an air of importance and urgency that had not been there before. His arrival home, and the news he brought with him pushed everything to a fever-point.

  The four of us were gathered in the parlor. My parents together on the settee, and myself perched on the footstool by Colin’s chair as he delivered the latest developments of the war as well as his personal news. As I looked at him, cutting a dashing and commanding figure in his dark blue captain’s uniform, I was comforted by the observation that beneath it all, he was still Colin, my brother and friend.

  He pulled the most recent edition of the Richmond Dispatch from his jacket pocket and handed it to my father.

  “I thought you’d want to see that right away.”

I watched as my father glanced over the page until his eyes rested on the article Colin referred to. He read it, my mother following along with him, and then passed it to me.

I barely glanced at his expression before turning my eyes to the words before me. Phrased in glowing, exuberant terms was the news that Robert E. Lee had been offered and accepted command of the Virginia forces.

We knew he had already resigned his commission in the United States Army, and had left his position at West Point. Those decisions were expected actions.

This... this was something else. This was a definite statement of purpose.

I looked to my father to see his reaction. In his eyes I saw sadness, resignation, and something else. Determination perhaps or decision- I couldn’t be sure. I glanced at Colin, whose eyes were on our father as well and I noted their expressions were mirrored. This notice gave me pause and an awful sense of dread. I laid the newspaper aside and waited to see what either or both of them would say.

  “You came through the city on your way here?” my father asked, though there seemed to be little question in his voice.

“Yes. I wanted to make sure my papers were in good order.”

“Your papers?” my mother questioned, confusion apparent in both her voice and expression.

“Yes, ma’m.  My letters of marquee.” Colin stated, his answer directed to our mother, but his gaze was directed at our father. I heard the faintest hint of challenge in Colin’s voice and quickly glanced between him and our father, trying to determine what his statement meant. Then it struck me, and I suddenly understood. At that moment a shiver of fear ran through me, straight to my heart.

My father voiced what I had realized and I heard the steely challenge in his voice as he asked his son for confirmation.



“You’re registering your ship as a Confederate privateer?”



“Yes sir. “ Colin confirmed.



“Can I ask what in the hell possessed you to do that?”

Father leaned forward, his eyes steely and his voice hard as he waited for my brother’s answer.



Colin’s expression matched his and for a moment I thought the two looked more like adversaries in a battle than father and son. In that moment I realized that Colin was no longer a boy seeking his father’s permission, he was a man in his own right, informing another of his intentions.



  “It was the only rational course available to me, sir.” Colin replied, with a quirk to his brow and a sardonic twitch of his lips.



  “Impudent brat,” Father muttered, and then with a rueful twitch of his lips asked, “I suppose your business partner, Captain Benedict, concurs with your decision?”



“Actually, it was his idea. Jason’s more tuned to the logistics of this sort of thing. He boasts that he has a pirate or two in his ancestry and that makes him an authority of sorts.” Colin replied, his demeanor relaxing somewhat as he made light of the repercussions of his decision.



My mother however was lost to the nuances of what was being said.

“I don’t understand, son. What does this mean? What are these letters you mentioned, and what do pirates have to do with anything?”



“It means, my dear that our son and his partner have registered their ship with the Confederate government to take out goods in exchange for a certain percentage of their incoming cargo consigned to the supplies for the Confederate army. Is that an accurate assessment of the situation, son?” My father turned back to Colin with a lift of his brow. They were both leaving the more dangerous aspects of this endeavor out of the explanation, most certainly for the benefit of my mother and me.

“That about sums it up.”



“So you’ve made your choice in this conflict?” I asked.



“There is no choice, as I see it. There are things I disagree with on both sides, but I won’t see Virginians, or any southerner for that matter, go without supplies because we are cut off from the industrial machine of the north. I certainly won’t see our armies defeated because they are inadequately supplied. I take no side in this. I’m merely leveling the playing field, dear sister.”



  “I doubt a federal blockade ship will make that delicate distinction, brother.” I challenged quietly in a voice meant just for him, and then turned to my father.



“Does this decision by Lee change the way you feel about things, Father?”



  My father looked at me for a moment.  His brief smile said he was not surprised that such a question would come from me, his daughter, rather than anyone else in the room.

  “I have great respect for the man, you know that. Our acquaintance was brief, but he leaves a lasting impression - at least he did on me. There’s a sense of honor and duty, and a sense of rightness in him that transcends time and the politics of the day. I believe he would concur with Colin’s assessment of things. I know he hates the idea of Virginia breaking from a union it had a major part in creating, and I know he feels as I do, that slavery is morally reprehensible, but we all know this war is more complicated than one issue.”



“It doesn’t appear as though the north feels that way.” My mother interjected. “They seem ready to claim the moral high ground in all of this and brand all of us with the same stamp.”

“You’re mistaking political posturing with actual intent. The north is no more anxious to have a legion of freed blacks among them than most southerners, and they forget their part in bringing them here in the first place. Very few northerners truly sympathize with the blacks, most are simply claiming a position they don’t really feel.” he paused in his remarks and with a heavy sigh continued, “ Nevertheless- the thing has begun, and as Colin said there is fault to be found on both sides. However, like Lee, I can not stand to the side and do nothing, nor can I take up arms against my neighbors. Given that, I will give Virginia whatever assistance I can, and pray that this bloody awful mess is as short-lived and painless as God can make it.”

  I watched my mother’s face crumple in fear and sadness as the full import of my father’s words made sense to her. Although she tried, she could not hide the tears that sprung to her eyes at the thought of both my father and brother rushing into harm’s way as they became embroiled in this awful conflict. My father reached out to her and she fell into his arms for a brief moment, taking sanctuary in his strength, as she always had. I looked away from them, both slightly embarrassed as well as inspired by the depth of their love and devotion for one another, and looked to my brother, Colin.

Reaching out, I took his hand in mind, and leaning close to him, I whispered, “You will try very hard not to get blown up by some Yankee row-boat before I can take a ride on your pretty new boat, won’t you?”



“It’s a ship, not a boat- and have I ever let you down, Angel?”



“No, and now is no time to change that. I’ll have your word on the matter, Captain?” I asked, holding out my hand to seal the bargain.



Colin took hold of my hand, and with a cocky grin replied, “I’ll take your terms, little sister. In fact- I’ll do you one better. If I so much as get the deck singed, we’ll name the next one for you. How about that?”



  “I don’t care much for the conditions, but I’ll accept.”



  “Good.” Then he pulled his hand away, and in a gesture reminiscent of our childhood, one that my mother blamed on our father’s horse-trading Irish ancestors, spit in the palm of his hand and slapped it to mine.

“Now it’s sealed in stone, sister.”



Unfortunately for him, the action gained our mother’s attention.

“Colin Anderson! That remains a revolting habit. You haven’t grown out of that still?”

  “My apologies, Mother. I was simply making sure my dear sister recognized the full import of our bargain.” Colin replied with wicked grin that belied any contrition he felt over his actions.



Our mother wasn’t fooled for a second. Her prim look of disapproval was tempered by the indulgent smile that played at the corners of her mouth.



  “Surely that can be accomplished without... oh never mind. I will never understand how someone who has been afforded a good upbringing and a fine education is still prone to crudities.”

  “Perhaps there’s a pirate or two in our ancestry as well, Mother”, Colin opined with a teasingly wicked grin.



“Pirate, indeed! It’s nothing more than wicked impudence and bad influence, if you ask me.” Mother replied with a haughty toss of her head and a side-long glance at my father. Her haughty look lasted only as long as it took my father to give her a guilty smile that was not only an admission, but a plea for indulgence. Then her lips curled into a smile that turned into laughter as she regarded us all with love, but I knew her most tender feelings were reserved for her husband and her first born. I felt no jealousy in this knowledge, because I knew the special place in my heart held by the both of them.



  “Well, pirate ancestry or not- I’m about ready to loot the pantry if someone doesn’t announce supper soon. What about it, mother? Can a wickedly impudent child get fed around here?”



  “If they couldn’t son, you would surely have starved by now.” My mother retorted with rare sauciness.

This caused laughter all around as we made our way to the dining room.



  We enjoyed a lovely dinner that evening, and sat up far later than usual indulging in story-telling of days gone by, as well as adventures and occurrences that had happened since we had all been together. Colin told stories of his travels, some she barely considered appropriate for my ears or hers, for that matter. There were many more I’m sure he would have shared with Father, had we not been there. There were stories about his friend and partner, Captain Benedict as well. Not many, but enough to intrigue me just the same. I asked Colin why he had never had Jason accompany him on one of his trips home, and he just gave me a look and a shrug, replying that Jason always seemed to have family obligations in New Orleans. His parents were both gone, but he had a grandmother he doted on and a ‘gaggle’ of cousins who he liked to keep track of.

The decision was made that night that we would postpone the trip to see Colin’s ship, the newly christened ‘Moonrunner’. It was a decision made with regret because future plans were fraught with uncertainty, but one made out of necessity. My father, his decision made, had multiple arrangements to make before he would depart for Richmond. Colin was anxious to get back to his ship, since he didn’t trust it docked anywhere away from him and within range of a Federal blockade.



  Though we didn’t know it then, that lovely spring night in May of 1862 was the last night we were all together as a family. It remains among both my fondest and bittersweet memories, because it signaled the end of one life and the beginning of another. What was lost and gained in the span between remains immeasurable.