Storm Clouds Rolling In Read online

  “You and Natalie go ahead, Sally. I’m going to stay here and enjoy the Philadelphia skyline from my chair.” To emphasize her statement Carrie walked over and sat down in the elegant rose-colored chair stationed by the tall window looking out on the street. She gazed for a moment at the clog of carriages, and then turned back to her friends. “I can’t think of nothing I would rather do more than sit right here in this chair.

  Sally shrugged. “Help yourself. We’ll fill you in on all the handsome men you miss.”

  Carrie had just opened a book she had chosen from the extensive library when Aunt Abby arrived home. She had insisted on all of them calling her Aunt Abby - she would have no formality in her home, she said.

  “Carrie, did they abandon you?” Aunt Abby had been out to a meeting and probably anticipated the house being empty when she returned. She stood by the open window and seemed to enjoy the breeze blowing gently through the room. Summer had settled on the city with a vengeance.

  “I was abandoned by choice, Aunt Abby. I hate cramming every second with activity. It gives you no time to savor what has already happened.”

  Abby eyed her closely. “I believe Natalie was right. You and I are much alike.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Would you like some lemonade?”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll help you.” The two of them moved into the kitchen and quickly squeezed some lemons. Carrie watched while Aunt Abby poured two large glasses of cold lemonade. “You don’t have servants?”

  Abby looked up. “I have someone who comes in occasionally to cook and clean. I find I am perfectly capable of taking care of most of my work - all of it actually if I weren’t so lazy at times,” she said with a chuckle. “Let’s move out on to the porch to take advantage of that breeze.”

  Carrie settled herself onto one of the lounge chairs on the porch, took a moment to savor the breeze, and then leaned forward. “Is it very scary - being on your own?” she asked.

  Abby eyed her with amusement. “Planning on trying it yourself?”

  Carrie flushed. “No. Yes. I mean... I don’t know.” Suddenly embarrassed, she stared at the floor, unsure of what to say next.

  Abby leaned forward and put her hand on Carrie’s leg. “Tell me about yourself, Carrie. Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice was caring and compassionate.

  Carrie looked up and managed a short laugh. “That’s the problem! I don’t know!” She gazed into Aunt Abby’s warm eyes and tried to pull her thoughts together. She suddenly very much wanted this woman to know her. “All I know is that I don’t fit where I am supposed to belong.” She paused and looked up again. Somehow she knew Aunt Abby wasn’t going to respond. Not yet. She would just listen for a while.

  Carrie took a deep breath and told Aunt Abby of her increasing restlessness on the plantation, how she could not imagine spending her life there. “I feel I’ll burst if I have to live that life!”

  “What is it you want, Carrie?” Abby asked quietly.

  “I want to be a doctor,” Carrie said firmly, then leaned forward, suddenly nervous. “Do you think I’m quite crazy?”

  “Do you?”

  Carrie laughed loudly.

  “Did I say something funny?”

  Carrie shook her head, smiling. “You remind me of one of our slaves. Her name is Sarah. She’s always been like another mother to me. She likes to ask questions, too.”

  “Do you mind questions?”

  “Sometimes,” Carrie admitted. “But only when I’m afraid of what the answer may be. Then is the best time for questions, though, I suppose.”

  Aunt Abby smiled gently. “It takes great courage to be honest when the honesty is pointed at yourself. I admire that.”

  Carrie flushed again, this time with pleasure. “You asked me earlier if I believed I was crazy to want to be a doctor. The answer is no. I fear sometimes it is impossible, but I believe I would be a good doctor. That’s one reason I’m here.”

  “Oh?”

  “My friend, Robert, has made arrangements for an old college buddy of his to show me around the University of Pennsylvania campus, including the Medical School. Abby sat back and studied Carrie for a long moment. “You will face many disappointments and heartaches.”

  “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

  Abby shrugged. “Anyone who goes against the conventions of their time will experience heartache. People fear change, Carrie, and they fight the things they are afraid of. You are going against the age old tradition of the South. Add to that, the fear people have of women having dreams and ambitions of their own...” She spread her hands and smiled gently. “That is a recipe for disappointment and heartache.”

  “I have to do it. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me – no matter how hard it is.”

  Abby smiled and reached forward to take one of her hands. “I know, Carrie. And that is exactly why you’re going to do it. We only truly fight to make changes when we believe in those changes with all our heart. You have to want your dream badly enough to hold on through the bad times.” Abby looked off into the distance. “When my husband, Charles, died several years ago, it was expected I would return south to my family. I decided otherwise. Philadelphia is my home. My family implored me to return in order to maintain my respectability. The business world here was aghast when I decided to continue with my husband’s business. I was quite capable of running it, you know. It’s just that it wasn’t done. Many people worked against me to make the business fail - men who had been our friends before Charles died. I refused to go away, however, and finally they accepted me. It is still hard at times, but it’s worth it!” The last quiet words were spoken with a triumphant note.

  Carrie looked at her with even greater admiration. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  Abby laughed suddenly. “My goodness, dear, if we women fighting the tide don’t stand with each other, there is surely no hope.” She leaned forward and stared intensely into Carrie’s eyes. “Tell you what. There are many times you are going to find it difficult to believe in yourself. When you run into those times, try and believe in those who do believe in you! I believe in you, Carrie. I believe you can make your dreams come true.”

  Carrie stared into Aunt Abby’s eyes, her own filling with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned forward impulsively and gave the older woman a hug. “I knew you were going to be a friend!”

  “Aren’t you girls ready yet?” Abby called up the stairs. “The dance is going to be over by the time we get there!” she teased.

  “You don’t want us going out looking less than our best, do you Aunt Abby?” Natalie challenged as she floated down the stairs in her light blue gown.

  “I hardly think that is going to happen,” Aunt Abby said dryly. “I grew up in the South, remember? I know what a premium is placed on proper appearance.” Aunt Abby looked beautiful in a soft gray gown that swept the floor and matched her eyes. She smiled. “All three of you look lovely. I believe these poor Northern gentlemen are going to be taken off guard.”

  “I hope so!” Sally exclaimed.

  All of them laughed. “Do you ever think of anything besides men, Sally Hampton?” Carrie demanded.

  “Why, is there anything else to think about?” Sally asked in a bewildered voice. Then she grinned. “I also think about food and clothes.”

  Groans filled the hallway as the four women walked out onto the porch. A well- appointed carriage waited for them at the bottom of the steps. “Are we really going to be late for the dance, Aunt Abby?” Natalie asked.

  Abby shook her head. “I remember what it was like when I was a young lady. I gave you plenty of time to get ready.”

  They had traveled down the road not more than ten minutes when all traffic came to a halt. Abby craned her neck to identify the problem. “Driver?”

  The driver shrugged his broad shoulders. “I should have gone another way, m’am. I’m sorry. Some other drivers told me the Wide-Awakes were in town for a parade. I t
hought we would be past their route before it began. I’m afraid we’re not going anywhere for a while.”

  “Oh, bother!” Abby exclaimed in an exasperated voice.

  “What is it?” Carrie asked. She leaned out to see the parade they were discussing but a sea of carriages blocked her view.

  “It’s another one of those Republican parades. I’m all for party enthusiasm but I’m afraid we’re going to be horribly late for the dance.” Abby turned around and looked back at the carriages stacked up behind them. “I’m afraid there’s no way to get out of this mess.”

  Carrie still didn’t understand what was happening. “Who are the Wide-Awakes?”

  Abby rose suddenly, without answering. “If we’re not going to make it to the dance on the time, the least we can do is see the parade,” she stated. “Driver, we’ll be back when the parade is over.”

  The driver nodded complacently, settling back against his seat. “I don’t reckon I’ll be going anywhere before then, m’am.” He reached under his seat and pulled out a bucket. “I’ll just eat the dinner my missus fixed for me. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  Within minutes Carrie found herself pressed into the massive crowd lining the street. She wondered uneasily if they were all going to be trampled. She stretched herself as tall as she could, but could see nothing but a mass of heads blocking her vision. It didn’t matter if the parade came – she wouldn’t see it anyway.

  “Let’s go up there!” Aunt Abby pointed to the high landing of an office building.

  “Do you think it’s alright?” Natalie asked with a troubled expression. Carrie knew the crowd was frightening her. She, too, wanted nothing more than to remove herself from the milling bedlam, but she didn’t want to get in trouble.

  Abby grinned. “It should be. I own the building!” With a laugh she led the way up the stairs, pulled out the key that would let them in, and swung open the solid door. All four entered with a sigh of relief. Carrie glanced around the immaculate offices and then followed Abby up the stairs. This lady was a constant source of surprises.

  Just as they stepped out onto the landing above the second floor, Carrie heard a sound in the distance. It seemed to have a life of its own as it steadily increased and swallowed the noise of the crowd. Carrie had never heard anything like it. She leaned against the railing and peered down the street. As the sound, still undecipherable, drew closer a strange glow lit the distance. Breathless, Carrie kept her eyes fixed on the street.

  Finally, the sound took a shape and identified itself. Moving toward them were thousands of men dressed in dark oilcloth capes, tramping in military fashion, and holding aloft smoky torches that cast their flickering light on the teeming crowds assembled to meet them. Carrie had seen military parades performed by the Virginia militias but never anything to equal this. What was going on?

  Aunt Abby seemed to be reading her mind for she leaned forward and shouted, “The Wide-Awakes are young Republican enthusiasts who march to generate political enthusiasm. They are determined to see Lincoln elected!”

  Slowly, Carrie turned back to stare at the scene before her. Never had she felt so out of place. As the tramping filled the night and seemed to take on a life of its own, she was thankful for their place high above the masses. Instinct told her a large number of the people assembled below would not be friendly toward three plantation girls from the South. The very thought frightened her. Never had she thought she would need to be afraid in her own country. Her hands trembled on the railing as the clamor of the crowd grew. Lincoln! Lincoln! Lincoln!

  Once again, she felt the same strange sensation she had experienced in Richmond standing beneath Washington’s Monument. Even though dusk had claimed the city, she felt dark clouds lowering to engulf them. She stared down, somehow aware of the blind emotion swirling through the masses – with allegiance seemingly given to whoever made the most noise. It both frightened and fascinated her.

  Carrie stood alone at the balcony with Abby. Natalie and Sally, alarmed by the spectacle had retreated inside. Finally, she turned to the older woman. “They believe in him, don’t they?”

  Abby shrugged. “They believe in him tonight while the bands are playing and the night is full of the tramping of feet pounding out their message. Will they believe in him tomorrow?” She smiled ruefully. “People believe easily when it doesn’t cause them any discomfort. It’s when it hurts to believe that believing means something.”

  Carrie stared at her. Never had she heart a woman talk this way.

  Abby interpreted her look. “Natalie was right, Carrie. We are alike in one major way. We question everything that goes on around us. I happen to think it’s one of my better traits.” She grinned. “If more people had asked questions I don’t think our country would be in the mess it’s in right now.” Then she grew more serious. “I think our country is in desperate need of more balance, Carrie. Men need women to help keep the perspective straight and to see an issue from all sides. Women need to be able to vote!”

  Carrie could think of nothing to say. She had never even considered women having the vote. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  Abby laughed at her bemused expression. “I’m sorry, dear,” she chuckled. “I get carried away sometimes.” Her expression changed suddenly. “Not that I don’t mean it with all my heart, but I sense you have plenty to deal with already. I don’t need to add anything to your load. Do me a favor,” she added with a sudden smile. “Don’t tell Natalie of my wild ideas. She’ll feel compelled to share them back home and my dear family will be convinced they need to come lock me away. They’ll be a time to let them know how I feel, but it’s not now.”

  Carrie nodded. “Of course,” she replied instantly, honored Aunt Abby had entrusted her with a secret. She would never betray her new friend.

  Just then the bands stopped playing and the tramping of feet abruptly came to a halt. Carrie returned her attention to the street just in time to see a man climb onto a platform hurriedly put in place.

  “Seward,” Abby said in response to the question in her eyes. “It took him a while to adjust to the fact he was not going to be the next president but now he’s campaigning like crazy for Lincoln. Whatever else people might say, he is a man committed to his party.”

  The crowd quieted down enough for Seward’s voice to be heard clearly. Carrie listened intently as he went on at great length about Lincoln and why he should be the next president. When he seemed to be winding down, a question was shouted from the crowd. What is going to happen if the Southern states secede as they are threatening?

  Seward’s smile never dimmed. He waved his hands for renewed attention and delivered his statement with great confidence. “For ten, aye twenty years, these threats have been renewed in the same language and in the same form, about the first day of November every four years, when it happened to come before the day of the presidential election. I do not doubt but that these Southern statesmen and politicians think they are going to dissolve the Union, but I think they are going to do no such thing!”

  The crowd roared its approval and once again started its chant. Lincoln! Lincoln! Lincoln!

  “Carrie?”

  Carrie turned to see Aunt Abby’s staring at her. Only then did she become aware of the tears streaming down her face. “He’s wrong you know,” she said softly, wiping away her tears, and turning to stare at the crowd below. “The South isn’t just threatening this time. If Lincoln is elected, they will secede.”

  Abby opened her mouth as if to argue and then merely nodded, her eyes suddenly very fatigued.

  “My father says the passions of men have destroyed any possibility of reason. He says there is no chance Lincoln will not win, and that when he wins the South will secede.” Carrie’s voice trembled. “And then there will be war!”

  Both Carrie and Aunt Abby turned back to stare as the band broke out into victorious music and the hordes of Wide-Awakes resumed their relentless tramping. Abby reached out and took t
he younger girl’s hand. “I wish I could refute what you are saying. I would like to insist reason will save us.” She sighed instead. “I’m afraid your father might be right. Passion is now ruling our country.”

  Natalie and Sally eased out the door and joined them on the balcony. Both girls were frightened, but determined to ignore the obvious. “Aunt Abby? The crowd is breaking up. Do you think we can make it to the dance now?” Sally asked.

  Aunt Abby turned slowly to look at them, seeming almost surprised to see them there. “The dance?” she asked vaguely. “Oh, yes, the dance!” She shook her head and focused on Natalie and Sally’s faces. “Goodness me, we don’t want to lose our carriage.” Glancing over the balcony, she exclaimed, “Let’s go, girls. We must hurry!”

  The dance, held in the ballroom of a huge mansion set high on a hill overlooking the city skyline, seemed a different world from the smoky torches and the endless tramping of feet. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the glowing beauty of the home. Music swirled around her, drowning out the tramping that seemed etched into her mind and heart. It was not long before the three beautiful girls were surrounding by admiring men.

  “Good evening, m’am.”

  Carrie looked up into the sparkling eyes of the tall red-haired gentleman in front of her. He didn’t have the same elegant bearing of many of the men around him, but she liked the sparkle and warmth of his eyes, and the confident way he held his angular frame. “Good evening, sir.” She smiled as his eyebrows raised slightly. “Virginia,” she said in response to his unspoken question. “Richmond, to be exact.”

  “Welcome to Philadelphia, Miss....?”

  “Cromwell. Carrie Cromwell.”

  The tall redhead suddenly threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “I would have to approach the only girl who is already spoken for!”

  Carrie stared at him, wondering vaguely if he was a little mad. Her look only made the man laugh harder. She watched as he forced himself to quit laughing. He was merely chuckling when he extended a hand. “Welcome to Philadelphia, once again, Miss Carrie Cromwell. My name is Matthew Justin.”