The story, set in the year when U.S. civil war began, in the favourite setting of the author, to begin with - Manhattan, Kansas, where D'Arcy, a young girl beginning teens, lives with her parents, the father a well to do enough farmer, and an older sister being courted argently by a U.S. army lieutenant who's at home with the whole family.
When one is finished, it's a pause for thought about why this highly unsatisfactory, even shocking, ending; was the author deliberately aiming for a cliffhangar and a bad one at that?
Then a glimmer of ray steals in, when one has given up this book as just bad, unexpectedly. What if, on the background of U.S. civil war as experienced by those not really partisan - anti slavery southerners, Quakers, people with one soldier in either side fighting until loss of limb, ... - what if, on all this background, the story was simply that of a second daughter who, under guise of a rebellious nature, is merely suffering from jealous rages amounting to the point of pointless destruction?
Certainly this pre teen who stalked her sister and her fiance coukd have stopped them from consummation of a marriage planned for the morrow, but chose instead to watch and listen and cry in a rage, instead; instead of pointing out that her sister ought to take care of both kids, she chose to take responsibility for the boy who was difficult; and finally she didnt allow the boy a chance to get to know his dad when he returned from war, much wounded and debilitated. Instead of pride in the veteran, or even sympathy, first she asked why he came,then insisted her sister couldn't marry the father of her twins, and finally kidnapped the boy after she'd been suggested she go home, leaving the family to have a chance.
Favourite character of the author that repeats over and over in various names and disguises, this particular red curlytop isn't heroine material, however much she tries to reduce the beautiful older sister to a manipulative character. Which she really isn't.
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"The Manhattan Mercury printed stories of the unrest in the Eastern states almost every day. Settled largely by abolitionists, Riley County overwhelmingly supported the anti-slavery movement. During the 1850s, bloody battles over whether Kansas should be admitted to the Union as a free state or a slave state went on. Neighbor fought neighbor over their conflicting ideals. So many lives were lost in the skirmishes, the state earned the nickname, “Bloody Kansas.”
"South Carolina declared its withdrawal from the Union on December 20, 1860, while Buchanan was still President. In January, Governor Pickens demanded the Union withdraw its troops from Fort Sumter in the Charleston Harbor. Buchanan refused.
"Lincoln was inaugurated President on March 4,1861, and hopes of avoiding out-and-out war faded. On Friday, April 12, the news ran through Manhattan and the outlying properties like a flash of lightning. Confederate batteries had fired on Fort Sumter. The war had begun."
General Winfield Scott, appointed by Lincoln to contain South, planned to blockade all southern ports. He didn't hurry. Lincoln replaced him with McClellan.
"On July 21, the North suffered a terrible defeat at the Battle of Bull Run, called Manassas by the South. Soon after, McDowell was out, and General George McClellan—with great political support—replaced him as commander of the Union troops. After winning two minor battles, he was hailed by the public as a national hero.
"On August 28, the North suffered another defeat at the Second Battle of Bull Run. Skirmishes went on almost every week. Sometimes the South won, sometimes the North. With two consecutive victories in September, the North began to hope for a quick end to the war."
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It's unclear why some of the details had to be provided unless it's the author's intention to state that it isn't necessarily always the young man's fault, the young woman could take the initiative explicitly too, however difficult to believe.
A confederate loner's bullet almost found Lieutenant Taylor, but wounded only his saddle, as he was on watch at night. He wrote regularly to Suzanne, and his letter mentioned this. She was hysterical.
Suzanne is expecting soon after her fiance leaves as his troop is called up, their intention to elope being frustrated by his having had to leave before they could marry - her mother had nixed their wish to marry in a hurry before he left - and the family decides to send the daughters to live with their uncle and aunt in Detroit, so the neighbours need only know it was for safety from war.
It seems strange that a family concerned with social standing sends two young daughters without even a groom to accompany and protect them, all the way from Topeka, Kansas, to Davenport, Iowa, on stagecoach, which takes about a week. It's unclear why both the parents didn't go with them, to begin with, rather than sending them by themselves.
That was the plan, but fortunately the father did send the groom, Quinn, with them. Unfortunately it wasn't enough - when they were accosted by robbers, his presence with weapons made the robbers go berserk, searching for a Strongbow with treasure and when there was none, treating the young girls roughly, hurting them in the process of robbing the elder one of jewellery. Shots were fired, the driver and the assaulting robber dead, and Quinn wounded grievously.
The various ordeals they go through as a pair of young females have to look after a man suffering from gunshot wounds, while the three travel by stagecoach to Des Moines with stops at various intermediate stations, is horrendous enough to make one grateful for modern amenities one usually takes for granted.
They brought Quinn to Detroit with them instead of his returning to Topeka from Davenport as planned, since he couldn't stand the journey back to Topeka so soon, and they were met at the station by their uncle who was a bigger version of their father.
"As they passed through the huge Michigan Central Railroad Terminal, D’Arcy heard people speaking in French, which she knew very well. When her mother was angry, she often resorted to the language of her childhood. There were other languages, too, some she’d never heard. D’Arcy asked Uncle Sean, “Where are all these people from?”
"“All over the world—Germany, Italy, Poland, even China.”
"Holding her hand close to her stomach, D’Arcy pointed a finger to the man and woman walking in front of them. “What about them?” she whispered. “I think I know the language, but I don’t understand them.”
"Uncle Sean threw back his head, and the booming laugh that came out of him again reminded D’Arcy of her father. “They’d be from England.”"
One falls in love with Aunt Colleen immediately, what with her hugging the girls and feeding everybody. She had a solution for Quinn too, having heard the story from them at dinner..
"She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a mug of hot, greenish liquid. “Let that steep for a minute, and as soon as it’s cool enough, drink it all down.”
"Quinn sniffed the cup. “What is it?”
"“Dried dandelion greens. The tea will heal ya inside. Come morning, I’ll make ya a poultice of ribwort.”
"Quinn sipped a bit. “That’s pretty good.”
"“I told ya!”
"He blew on the tea and took a longer drink. “You know, my mom used to say when you wanted to eat or drink a lot of something, it must be what your body needs. I think I’ll be asking you to make this for me all the time.”
"“Say the word. I have a pantry full o’ the greens.”"
It's unclear why some of the details had to be provided unless it's the author's intention to state that it isn't necessarily always the young man's fault, the young woman could take the initiative explicitly too, however difficult to believe.
A confederate loner's bullet almost found Lieutenant Taylor, but wounded only his saddle, as he was on watch at night. He wrote regularly to Suzanne, and his letter mentioned this. She was hysterical.
Suzanne is expecting soon after her fiance leaves as his troop is called up, their intention to elope being frustrated by his having had to leave before they could marry - her mother had nixed their wish to marry in a hurry before he left - and the family decides to send the daughters to live with their uncle and aunt in Detroit, so the neighbours need only know it was for safety from war.
................................................................................................
It seems strange that a family concerned with social standing sends two young daughters without even a groom to accompany and protect them, all the way from Topeka, Kansas, to Davenport, Iowa, on stagecoach, which takes about a week. It's unclear why both the parents didn't go with them, to begin with, rather than sending them by themselves.
That was the plan, but fortunately the father did send the groom, Quinn, with them. Unfortunately it wasn't enough - when they were accosted by robbers, his presence with weapons made the robbers go berserk, searching for a Strongbow with treasure and when there was none, treating the young girls roughly, hurting them in the process of robbing the elder one of jewellery. Shots were fired, the driver and the assaulting robber dead, and Quinn wounded grievously.
................................................................................................
The various ordeals they go through as a pair of young females have to look after a man suffering from gunshot wounds, while the three travel by stagecoach to Des Moines with stops at various intermediate stations, is horrendous enough to make one grateful for modern amenities one usually takes for granted.
They brought Quinn to Detroit with them instead of his returning to Topeka from Davenport as planned, since he couldn't stand the journey back to Topeka so soon, and they were met at the station by their uncle who was a bigger version of their father.
"As they passed through the huge Michigan Central Railroad Terminal, D’Arcy heard people speaking in French, which she knew very well. When her mother was angry, she often resorted to the language of her childhood. There were other languages, too, some she’d never heard. D’Arcy asked Uncle Sean, “Where are all these people from?”
"“All over the world—Germany, Italy, Poland, even China.”
"Holding her hand close to her stomach, D’Arcy pointed a finger to the man and woman walking in front of them. “What about them?” she whispered. “I think I know the language, but I don’t understand them.”
"Uncle Sean threw back his head, and the booming laugh that came out of him again reminded D’Arcy of her father. “They’d be from England.”"
One falls in love with Aunt Colleen immediately, what with her hugging the girls and feeding everybody. She had a solution for Quinn too, having heard the story from them at dinner..
"She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a mug of hot, greenish liquid. “Let that steep for a minute, and as soon as it’s cool enough, drink it all down.”
"Quinn sniffed the cup. “What is it?”
"“Dried dandelion greens. The tea will heal ya inside. Come morning, I’ll make ya a poultice of ribwort.”
"Quinn sipped a bit. “That’s pretty good.”
"“I told ya!”
"He blew on the tea and took a longer drink. “You know, my mom used to say when you wanted to eat or drink a lot of something, it must be what your body needs. I think I’ll be asking you to make this for me all the time.”
"“Say the word. I have a pantry full o’ the greens.”"
................................................................................................
"Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant waited for orders to attack the Confederate forces downriver, but they did not come. He sent repeated requests for a call to action and waited, and waited. When no word came giving him permission, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He met with General John McClernand after ten o’clock on the evening of November 5 and told him to alert his brigade. They were to pack two days’ rations in their haversacks and carry forty rounds of ammunition in their cartridge boxes. They would depart camp on the assembled riverboats.
"The next morning, before the roosters had even ruffled their tail feathers in the Army camp, the word passed that every man should be ready."
"Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant waited for orders to attack the Confederate forces downriver, but they did not come. He sent repeated requests for a call to action and waited, and waited. When no word came giving him permission, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He met with General John McClernand after ten o’clock on the evening of November 5 and told him to alert his brigade. They were to pack two days’ rations in their haversacks and carry forty rounds of ammunition in their cartridge boxes. They would depart camp on the assembled riverboats.
"The next morning, before the roosters had even ruffled their tail feathers in the Army camp, the word passed that every man should be ready."
................................................................................................
"“I wonder where they’re sending us today.”
"“We’ll find out sooner or later.”
"Bright sunshine showed them the way to the riverbank. Seven boats, five steamers, and two gunboats lined the east bank of the Ohio River, gangplanks at the ready. Three thousand troops, including two hundred cavalrymen and their horses, filed onto the boats. It took the better part of the day to load the cannons, ammunition, supplies, and men. It was after three in the afternoon before the last of the troops were aboard. “This time,” Taylor told Brown, “we’re really going to fight.”
"The three thousand men and horses settled in and waited—and waited. It was even later in the afternoon before the boats cast off their lines and made the trip across the river to Bird’s Point to take the 22nd Illinois Regiment from the Kentucky side. As the last of the infantry and cavalry boarded, the sky spread a blood-red canopy above. With everyone aboard, they waited more. All lights were extinguished. Taylor peered into the night.
"“I wonder where we’re going—up the Ohio or down the Mississippi.”
"No answer came. No one but Grant and McClernand seemed to know, and they weren’t sharing the information. Except for the occasional nicker of a horse, silence fell. The only sound was the churning of the water, the slapping of the water against the boats, and the rustling air of men and horses breathing in and out. As the night went on, some of the men eventually lay in the available spaces and slept. Taylor and Brown made no effort to join them.
"The sun rose at six thirty. As it had been at sunset the evening before, the sky again glowed the color of blood. The men ate breakfast from the rations they’d packed the previous day. The signal came, and the fleet threw off the lines and began the journey. The gunboats—the Tyler and the Lexington—led the way. They were followed by Grant in his luxurious steamer, the Belle Memphis.
"When the Tyler turned downstream into the Mississippi, the men cheered. Taylor had to fight back the impulse to shout. “We’re going to war! That’s where we’re going!”"
"It was as if an electric current charged the men. Around eight in the morning, the boats arrived at Hunter’s Farm on the Missouri shore, three miles away from Belmont. The boats moored, and the troops disembarked and waited while the cannon and supplies were pushed and pulled up the steep riverbank. The men murmured amongst themselves their impatience—and waited."
"The troops gathered in a clearing along the bank and formed ranks. The cavalry lined up in front. Taylor inspected each of his men—including the sergeants and corporals—to make sure they had their weapons and were carrying their proper portion of food and ammunition and nothing else. The horses, sensing the men’s excitement, champed at their bits. The men, volunteers all, wore crisp, new uniforms but carried weapons they’d brought from home; a few had rifles, but some only muskets and swords from their grandfathers’ revolution. Instead of Grant, Colonel Napoleon Buford took the front and made a rousing speech, assuring them that the Lord of Hosts was on their side."
"They began the three-mile trek to Belmont.
"The forest of cottonwoods and buttonwoods stood so thick, those on horseback had to wend their way around the trees. As quietly as possible, trees here and there had to be felled to make room for the cannons to get through. The sound of drums in the distance urged them on. As they advanced, those men more fortunate found solid ground underfoot, but many encountered a swamp with mud and water four-foot-deep in some places.
"Silently, they felt their way along. As they advanced, the occasional sound of musket fire came to them, and a few ineffective Confederate shots crashed through the woods. The forest concealed Grant’s advancing troops.
"Near their destination, the young medical director, John Brinton, chose the Bratcher cabin to set up a field hospital. The principal surgeons were to wait at the cabin, and the assistant surgeons were told to go to the front. The ten musicians of the 7th Iowa were sent to the rear of each company to assist the wounded back to the hospital.
"At ten in the morning, two companies from each regiment were ordered forward to seek out the enemy. At the edge of the forest, they could see the Confederate camp going about their business, as if it were a normal morning.
"Colonel Schmidt stopped and wheeled his horse around to face the men of Taylor’s brigade. He told them to forget about regimental precision and fight Indian fashion. He then ran his gaze from one end of the row to another, and turned his horse back to face the front. He drew his saber, held it in the air, and nodded to the bugler, who played the charge. The colonel spurred his horse, and it surged forward."
"They charged through the few remaining trees, surprising the small contingent of Confederates. The thousand or so Rebs scattered. The Rebel Cavalry ran for their horses, and the enlisted men grabbed their weapons."
It was over in an hour.
"The Union soldiers still celebrated and looted when the Confederate cannons across the river at Columbus, Kentucky finally made themselves heard. The shelling seemed endless and kept up until twenty-five hundred Confederate reinforcements, sent by General Leonidas Polk, arrived and the battle began again."
"The call for retreat sounded in short order, and the exhausted Union forces abandoned the cannons and scrambled for the river with only what they could carry in their hands.
"With the Confederate forces close behind, they barely made it to the boats. The men stampeded, shoved at one another, and fought to get on a boat—any boat. There would be no formations. Every man boarded whatever vessel stood before him when he emerged from the forest."
"Running at full steam, the boats headed upriver. For protection, the gunboats— firing as quickly as possible—brought up the rear. The turn into the Ohio River brought murmurs of relief from the men still standing. The boats safely delivered what was left of the five regiments back to Cairo. Taylor wondered how many had been lost in the three miles of swamp and thick woods and didn’t make the boats. He heard one colonel tell another that Grant, himself, avoided capture by a narrow margin."
"In spite of having gained no ground and experiencing the loss of over a hundred men, Grant declared the attack a Union success. In doing so, he drew the attention of Abraham Lincoln, who was fed up with generals who wouldn’t fight."
................................................................................................
D'Arcy was discovering her new world, already very cold. There was six inches of snow on ground, and she got hit with a snowball by the friendly boy next door before he went to school. She talked to Colleen.
"“Father told me how Detroit was a big manufacturing place, but he talked about buggies and stoves and other things like cutting and shipping lumber from pine trees. Did the war change what everyone was making?”
"“Not everyone,” Aunt Colleen said, “but we certainly are doin’ as much as we can to help. Detroiters have always been against slavery.”
"“Always?”
"“Oh, my yes! Detroit is one of the most important stops on the Underground Railroad.”
"“They had a train that ran underground?”
"“No,” Aunt Colleen smiled. “They called it that because it was a secret. Ya see, when a slave was able to escape from his master, he just naturally made his way north. A chain of hidin’ places was set up from different cities in the South to Detroit and other cities that border on Canada to get folks across to where they couldn’t be sent back.”
"“Sent back? You mean, even if he escaped to a free state, he could be forced to go back?”
"“He could. He was property, and the law treated him the same way it would a runaway horse. Even if he made it out, if he were caught, he’d be sent back to his owner.”
"“So the people who helped him were breaking the law?”
"Aunt Colleen nodded. “They were.”"
D'Arcy asked if they were part of it, and Colleen showed her the hiding room in the basement where they had runaway rest for a day before being ferried across river to Canada at night.
"“If he got caught, would he have gone to prison?”
"“The law says he would have, but yer Uncle Sean has more than a bit o’ charm workin’ fer him. Most o’ the courts and judges and so forth in Detroit were sympathizers as well.”
"“That’s how Manhattan—my Manhattan, not the one in New York—came to be. Father told me the people like him who didn’t want slavery to go to Kansas settled there so when it changed from being a territory to a state, there’d be more of them than slavers, and they could vote to make it a free state. So I guess he and Uncle Sean had that in common, not believing in slavery.”
"“It’s an Irish tradition to fight for freedom. Hundreds of years ago, the English overran Ireland. They took over our land and threw out our system of government. They made us pay taxes to grow crops on the soil our grandfathers and their grandfathers before them had planted for centuries. They even told us what sort of church we had to have.”
"“So you’re saying you believe it’s all right to break the law?”
"“Now, don’t ya go gettin’ all sorts of ideas in that sweet little head of yers.” Aunt Colleen pursed her lips and blew out a stream of air. “Let me see if I kin say this right. I suppose what I believe is that the law came ‘bout in the old days to keep things orderly. We can’t have people goin’ ’round stealin’ and killin’, and there’s them that would if they could get away with it. We ought to go by what the law says as much as we can, but when the law is clearly hurtin’ more than it’s helpin’, maybe—remember I said maybe—breakin’ it ain’t a bad thing.”
"“I’ll have to think that over.”
"“Ya should, D’Arcy. Ya should think it over.”
"Aunt Colleen pushed the brick wall back into place. “There we go. If ya didn’t know the door was there, ya’d never know the door was there.”"
"“I wonder where they’re sending us today.”
"“We’ll find out sooner or later.”
"Bright sunshine showed them the way to the riverbank. Seven boats, five steamers, and two gunboats lined the east bank of the Ohio River, gangplanks at the ready. Three thousand troops, including two hundred cavalrymen and their horses, filed onto the boats. It took the better part of the day to load the cannons, ammunition, supplies, and men. It was after three in the afternoon before the last of the troops were aboard. “This time,” Taylor told Brown, “we’re really going to fight.”
"The three thousand men and horses settled in and waited—and waited. It was even later in the afternoon before the boats cast off their lines and made the trip across the river to Bird’s Point to take the 22nd Illinois Regiment from the Kentucky side. As the last of the infantry and cavalry boarded, the sky spread a blood-red canopy above. With everyone aboard, they waited more. All lights were extinguished. Taylor peered into the night.
"“I wonder where we’re going—up the Ohio or down the Mississippi.”
"No answer came. No one but Grant and McClernand seemed to know, and they weren’t sharing the information. Except for the occasional nicker of a horse, silence fell. The only sound was the churning of the water, the slapping of the water against the boats, and the rustling air of men and horses breathing in and out. As the night went on, some of the men eventually lay in the available spaces and slept. Taylor and Brown made no effort to join them.
"The sun rose at six thirty. As it had been at sunset the evening before, the sky again glowed the color of blood. The men ate breakfast from the rations they’d packed the previous day. The signal came, and the fleet threw off the lines and began the journey. The gunboats—the Tyler and the Lexington—led the way. They were followed by Grant in his luxurious steamer, the Belle Memphis.
"When the Tyler turned downstream into the Mississippi, the men cheered. Taylor had to fight back the impulse to shout. “We’re going to war! That’s where we’re going!”"
"It was as if an electric current charged the men. Around eight in the morning, the boats arrived at Hunter’s Farm on the Missouri shore, three miles away from Belmont. The boats moored, and the troops disembarked and waited while the cannon and supplies were pushed and pulled up the steep riverbank. The men murmured amongst themselves their impatience—and waited."
"The troops gathered in a clearing along the bank and formed ranks. The cavalry lined up in front. Taylor inspected each of his men—including the sergeants and corporals—to make sure they had their weapons and were carrying their proper portion of food and ammunition and nothing else. The horses, sensing the men’s excitement, champed at their bits. The men, volunteers all, wore crisp, new uniforms but carried weapons they’d brought from home; a few had rifles, but some only muskets and swords from their grandfathers’ revolution. Instead of Grant, Colonel Napoleon Buford took the front and made a rousing speech, assuring them that the Lord of Hosts was on their side."
"They began the three-mile trek to Belmont.
"The forest of cottonwoods and buttonwoods stood so thick, those on horseback had to wend their way around the trees. As quietly as possible, trees here and there had to be felled to make room for the cannons to get through. The sound of drums in the distance urged them on. As they advanced, those men more fortunate found solid ground underfoot, but many encountered a swamp with mud and water four-foot-deep in some places.
"Silently, they felt their way along. As they advanced, the occasional sound of musket fire came to them, and a few ineffective Confederate shots crashed through the woods. The forest concealed Grant’s advancing troops.
"Near their destination, the young medical director, John Brinton, chose the Bratcher cabin to set up a field hospital. The principal surgeons were to wait at the cabin, and the assistant surgeons were told to go to the front. The ten musicians of the 7th Iowa were sent to the rear of each company to assist the wounded back to the hospital.
"At ten in the morning, two companies from each regiment were ordered forward to seek out the enemy. At the edge of the forest, they could see the Confederate camp going about their business, as if it were a normal morning.
"Colonel Schmidt stopped and wheeled his horse around to face the men of Taylor’s brigade. He told them to forget about regimental precision and fight Indian fashion. He then ran his gaze from one end of the row to another, and turned his horse back to face the front. He drew his saber, held it in the air, and nodded to the bugler, who played the charge. The colonel spurred his horse, and it surged forward."
"They charged through the few remaining trees, surprising the small contingent of Confederates. The thousand or so Rebs scattered. The Rebel Cavalry ran for their horses, and the enlisted men grabbed their weapons."
It was over in an hour.
"The Union soldiers still celebrated and looted when the Confederate cannons across the river at Columbus, Kentucky finally made themselves heard. The shelling seemed endless and kept up until twenty-five hundred Confederate reinforcements, sent by General Leonidas Polk, arrived and the battle began again."
"The call for retreat sounded in short order, and the exhausted Union forces abandoned the cannons and scrambled for the river with only what they could carry in their hands.
"With the Confederate forces close behind, they barely made it to the boats. The men stampeded, shoved at one another, and fought to get on a boat—any boat. There would be no formations. Every man boarded whatever vessel stood before him when he emerged from the forest."
"Running at full steam, the boats headed upriver. For protection, the gunboats— firing as quickly as possible—brought up the rear. The turn into the Ohio River brought murmurs of relief from the men still standing. The boats safely delivered what was left of the five regiments back to Cairo. Taylor wondered how many had been lost in the three miles of swamp and thick woods and didn’t make the boats. He heard one colonel tell another that Grant, himself, avoided capture by a narrow margin."
"In spite of having gained no ground and experiencing the loss of over a hundred men, Grant declared the attack a Union success. In doing so, he drew the attention of Abraham Lincoln, who was fed up with generals who wouldn’t fight."
................................................................................................
D'Arcy was discovering her new world, already very cold. There was six inches of snow on ground, and she got hit with a snowball by the friendly boy next door before he went to school. She talked to Colleen.
"“Father told me how Detroit was a big manufacturing place, but he talked about buggies and stoves and other things like cutting and shipping lumber from pine trees. Did the war change what everyone was making?”
"“Not everyone,” Aunt Colleen said, “but we certainly are doin’ as much as we can to help. Detroiters have always been against slavery.”
"“Always?”
"“Oh, my yes! Detroit is one of the most important stops on the Underground Railroad.”
"“They had a train that ran underground?”
"“No,” Aunt Colleen smiled. “They called it that because it was a secret. Ya see, when a slave was able to escape from his master, he just naturally made his way north. A chain of hidin’ places was set up from different cities in the South to Detroit and other cities that border on Canada to get folks across to where they couldn’t be sent back.”
"“Sent back? You mean, even if he escaped to a free state, he could be forced to go back?”
"“He could. He was property, and the law treated him the same way it would a runaway horse. Even if he made it out, if he were caught, he’d be sent back to his owner.”
"“So the people who helped him were breaking the law?”
"Aunt Colleen nodded. “They were.”"
D'Arcy asked if they were part of it, and Colleen showed her the hiding room in the basement where they had runaway rest for a day before being ferried across river to Canada at night.
"“If he got caught, would he have gone to prison?”
"“The law says he would have, but yer Uncle Sean has more than a bit o’ charm workin’ fer him. Most o’ the courts and judges and so forth in Detroit were sympathizers as well.”
"“That’s how Manhattan—my Manhattan, not the one in New York—came to be. Father told me the people like him who didn’t want slavery to go to Kansas settled there so when it changed from being a territory to a state, there’d be more of them than slavers, and they could vote to make it a free state. So I guess he and Uncle Sean had that in common, not believing in slavery.”
"“It’s an Irish tradition to fight for freedom. Hundreds of years ago, the English overran Ireland. They took over our land and threw out our system of government. They made us pay taxes to grow crops on the soil our grandfathers and their grandfathers before them had planted for centuries. They even told us what sort of church we had to have.”
"“So you’re saying you believe it’s all right to break the law?”
"“Now, don’t ya go gettin’ all sorts of ideas in that sweet little head of yers.” Aunt Colleen pursed her lips and blew out a stream of air. “Let me see if I kin say this right. I suppose what I believe is that the law came ‘bout in the old days to keep things orderly. We can’t have people goin’ ’round stealin’ and killin’, and there’s them that would if they could get away with it. We ought to go by what the law says as much as we can, but when the law is clearly hurtin’ more than it’s helpin’, maybe—remember I said maybe—breakin’ it ain’t a bad thing.”
"“I’ll have to think that over.”
"“Ya should, D’Arcy. Ya should think it over.”
"Aunt Colleen pushed the brick wall back into place. “There we go. If ya didn’t know the door was there, ya’d never know the door was there.”"
................................................................................................
D'Arcy talked to Suzanne about letters to be written.
"“Oh, I almost forgot why I came up here. Aunt Colleen says we’re going to mass tomorrow. I know that’s what we used to do back in New York. When I told her we were Baptists now, she asked me if I’d been baptized Catholic, and I couldn’t remember. Was I?”
"“Of course you were. So was I.”
"“So I’m a Catholic and a Baptist?”
"“You were baptized Catholic when you were a little baby, but we left New York before you had your first communion or were confirmed. That’s why you can’t remember it. Besides, you’re not really a Baptist yet. You have to be old enough to know what it’s all about to join the Baptist church.”
"“Can I have dual church-ship, like Father is still Irish and now he’s an American?”
"“When you’re older, you can choose for yourself.”
"D’Arcy thought it over. “I’ll see how I like the service tomorrow.”"
D'Arcy was taken by uncle Sean on a tour of the town, beginning with the roundhouse where the engines were turned. Quinn went with them.
"The next stop was the intersection of Jefferson Avenue and Woodward. “This here spot is where a big-time French fur trader named Cadillac came ashore in 1701 with a priest and some workers and decided to make this his headquarters. Le Detroit du lac Erie. The Strait of Lake Erie. Detroit means the strait. After a while, they were tired of saying all that, and now it’s only Detroit.”
"He told D’Arcy, “Our streets were laid out a few years ago by the wagon wheel pattern they used in Washington D.C., only ours is half a wheel. The bottom of our circle isn’t streets, it’s the river. Over there,” he made a gesture with his hand, “is the only place where Canada is south of the United States.”
"“South!” D’Arcy said.
"“That’s right. The river takes some twists and turns, and it makes us go south to get to Windsor on that side of the water.”
"“That’s so—so … what’s the word? Ironic. That’s it.”
"“What’s ironic about it?” Quinn asked.
"“A slave would run away and go north to get to freedom, and when he reached the border, he had to go south again to take the last step.”"
"“How many people live here,” Quinn asked.
"“Upwards of fifty thousand now, with more comin’ in every day.”
"“Why do they come here?”
"“Why do folks go anywhere? There’s money to be made. Back in ’24 when they opened the Erie Canal, ya could finally go all the way from Chicago to the Atlantic Ocean without gettin’ off yer boat. We manufacture all sorts of merchandise. It’s a natural place to stop and take on supplies or stock up on goods to ship overseas.”
"The buggy reached a place where the street made a big half-circle. “This here is Grand Circus Park. We’ll go ’round it and head back home.”
"“Is that all there is to see?” D’Arcy asked.
"“That’s a drop in the bucket. Ya can’t see it all in one day. This city changes so fast, ya couldn’t see it all, even in one lifetime. Why, it burnt to the ground twice already and sprung right back up.”
"“Burnt to the ground?” Quinn said. “When did that happen?”
"“First time was back in ’05 when a baker knocked out his pipe on some hay. That was back when the whole city was inside Fort Wayne’s fence, and everythin’ was made of wood. No one was killed. The residents stayed in tents until they could build more houses and businesses, and there the new city was, lickety-split.”
"“You said it burned twice,” D’Arcy said. “What happened the second time?”
"Uncle Sean cleared his throat and frowned. “The British burned us out in the War of 1812. Soon’s General Hull at the Fort surrendered, they turned ’round and set fire to every building. They even had the Indians go out to the farms ’round town and burn them down. They killed all the livestock.”
"“That’s terrible,” Quinn said, “to do that after they’d surrendered.”
"“That’s the British fer ya,” Uncle Sean said. “We whipped their—” He looked at D’Arcy and coughed. “—whipped them fer good not long after that, and then everything settled down. The Detroiters up and rebuilt the town again, bigger and better than ever.”
"“Sounds like this place was settled by some pretty tough people.”
"“That’s the nature of settlers anywhere, I suppose. If ya ain’t tough, ya won’t survive.”"
D'Arcy talked to Suzanne about letters to be written.
"“Oh, I almost forgot why I came up here. Aunt Colleen says we’re going to mass tomorrow. I know that’s what we used to do back in New York. When I told her we were Baptists now, she asked me if I’d been baptized Catholic, and I couldn’t remember. Was I?”
"“Of course you were. So was I.”
"“So I’m a Catholic and a Baptist?”
"“You were baptized Catholic when you were a little baby, but we left New York before you had your first communion or were confirmed. That’s why you can’t remember it. Besides, you’re not really a Baptist yet. You have to be old enough to know what it’s all about to join the Baptist church.”
"“Can I have dual church-ship, like Father is still Irish and now he’s an American?”
"“When you’re older, you can choose for yourself.”
"D’Arcy thought it over. “I’ll see how I like the service tomorrow.”"
................................................................................................
D'Arcy was taken by uncle Sean on a tour of the town, beginning with the roundhouse where the engines were turned. Quinn went with them.
"The next stop was the intersection of Jefferson Avenue and Woodward. “This here spot is where a big-time French fur trader named Cadillac came ashore in 1701 with a priest and some workers and decided to make this his headquarters. Le Detroit du lac Erie. The Strait of Lake Erie. Detroit means the strait. After a while, they were tired of saying all that, and now it’s only Detroit.”
"He told D’Arcy, “Our streets were laid out a few years ago by the wagon wheel pattern they used in Washington D.C., only ours is half a wheel. The bottom of our circle isn’t streets, it’s the river. Over there,” he made a gesture with his hand, “is the only place where Canada is south of the United States.”
"“South!” D’Arcy said.
"“That’s right. The river takes some twists and turns, and it makes us go south to get to Windsor on that side of the water.”
"“That’s so—so … what’s the word? Ironic. That’s it.”
"“What’s ironic about it?” Quinn asked.
"“A slave would run away and go north to get to freedom, and when he reached the border, he had to go south again to take the last step.”"
"“How many people live here,” Quinn asked.
"“Upwards of fifty thousand now, with more comin’ in every day.”
"“Why do they come here?”
"“Why do folks go anywhere? There’s money to be made. Back in ’24 when they opened the Erie Canal, ya could finally go all the way from Chicago to the Atlantic Ocean without gettin’ off yer boat. We manufacture all sorts of merchandise. It’s a natural place to stop and take on supplies or stock up on goods to ship overseas.”
"The buggy reached a place where the street made a big half-circle. “This here is Grand Circus Park. We’ll go ’round it and head back home.”
"“Is that all there is to see?” D’Arcy asked.
"“That’s a drop in the bucket. Ya can’t see it all in one day. This city changes so fast, ya couldn’t see it all, even in one lifetime. Why, it burnt to the ground twice already and sprung right back up.”
"“Burnt to the ground?” Quinn said. “When did that happen?”
"“First time was back in ’05 when a baker knocked out his pipe on some hay. That was back when the whole city was inside Fort Wayne’s fence, and everythin’ was made of wood. No one was killed. The residents stayed in tents until they could build more houses and businesses, and there the new city was, lickety-split.”
"“You said it burned twice,” D’Arcy said. “What happened the second time?”
"Uncle Sean cleared his throat and frowned. “The British burned us out in the War of 1812. Soon’s General Hull at the Fort surrendered, they turned ’round and set fire to every building. They even had the Indians go out to the farms ’round town and burn them down. They killed all the livestock.”
"“That’s terrible,” Quinn said, “to do that after they’d surrendered.”
"“That’s the British fer ya,” Uncle Sean said. “We whipped their—” He looked at D’Arcy and coughed. “—whipped them fer good not long after that, and then everything settled down. The Detroiters up and rebuilt the town again, bigger and better than ever.”
"“Sounds like this place was settled by some pretty tough people.”
"“That’s the nature of settlers anywhere, I suppose. If ya ain’t tough, ya won’t survive.”"
................................................................................................
There came a letter from Suzanne's fiance, with love and longing and reassurances for her.
"I wish I could tell you this war would be over soon, but I’m afraid we are at a stalemate with our Southern brothers. I have found them to be brave and gallant fighters, to a man. Their cavalry makes ours look poor by comparison, to say the least. It is only our superior numbers and munitions that have kept us from losing time and time again.
"I have been in a number of skirmishes and one all-out battle at Benton, Missouri. I hope to never see another, yet I can say with all surety, there will be more—probably many more. Do you remember how I used to talk about wanting to see some action? Having had that wish fulfilled, I can tell you that never seeing another battle is now my fondest desire."
She was in a quandary, she couldn't tell him about his coming baby, nor about her feelings for Quinn. She wrote about her new home.
"Michigan is much colder than Kansas, but oddly, the cold days are broken up with days when you would think it was spring. Aunt Colleen tells me to wait until January when cold weather “makes Detroit its headquarters, and February breaks yer heart.”
"Their home is right across the street from the Detroit River. There are wooden sidewalks here, and the larger streets are paved with circles cut from tree trunks and coated with creosote to preserve them. I’m told the narrower streets are mud almost year-round."
D'Arcy made a friend, Megan, at school, the eldest of eight or nine children in an Irish family, who said her mother might not notice D'Arcy wasn't one of them; she told D'Arcy just that. Darcy visited often, learning babycare and other things from Megan even as she learned cooking from Colleen.
Quinn said he'd leave at end of January. Suzanne pleaded with him to stay, but he would do so only if she married him. Since the family had told everybody around in Detroit that she was married and her husband was in the war, she couldn't.
"The second week of January, a cold wind came across the river and settled on the city like a smothering blanket. The river froze so hard, the ice was too thick to cut through for fishing unless the men went half-way to Canada. The piles of snow that had fallen in December coated the streets with filthy ice. Buggies were put away in the stable houses and exchanged for sleighs.
"In an effort to keep her legs warm on the walk to school, D’Arcy wore two pairs of long stockings and two pairs of gloves on her hands. Her breath came out in white billows, and the drops of condensation froze on her eyelashes. She wrapped extra scarves around her neck and face and pulled one scarf up to the bottom of her eyes and her knit hat down to her eyebrows. Ian teased her about looking like a spy from the South. Some mornings, when she inhaled, the cold air burned her lungs, and she wrapped a second scarf over her nose. Once home from school, D’Arcy stayed indoors the rest of the day.
"Uncle Sean harnessed the horses to take him to work in the morning.
"“Won’t they freeze to death,” D’Arcy asked, “waiting outside all day?”
"“No such thing,” Uncle Sean said. “They’ll wait right inside the manufactory. I’d never let anything bad happen to my horses.”
"The only snow that fell came not in big, lacy flakes, but tiny, hard pellets that skittered across the ice-covered sidewalk and crunched under D’Arcy’s boots. Suzanne was afraid to leave the house for fear of falling.
"“It’s too cold to snow much now,” Uncle Sean said. “Wait ’til March. Ye’ll see more snow than ya ever wanted.”
"As much as they hated the cold and the imprisonment of ice, neither D’Arcy nor Suzanne wished away the month. They dreaded the end of January much more than they did the weather.
"On the thirty-first, Quinn announced, “I’m almost packed. I’ll be leaving on the early train.”"
Suzanne and D'Arcy both wept.
March brought circuses and daffodils blossom, interspersed with a large snowfall and a cold week. Baby Matilda died, and D'Arcy attended the funeral since Megan and rest of her whole family had flu. D'Arcy grieved and decided she'd be neither Baptist nor Catholic.
Suzanne had twins, and she named them Aidan Sean and Francine Abigael, asking Colleen to be their godmother.
There came a letter from Suzanne's fiance, with love and longing and reassurances for her.
"I wish I could tell you this war would be over soon, but I’m afraid we are at a stalemate with our Southern brothers. I have found them to be brave and gallant fighters, to a man. Their cavalry makes ours look poor by comparison, to say the least. It is only our superior numbers and munitions that have kept us from losing time and time again.
"I have been in a number of skirmishes and one all-out battle at Benton, Missouri. I hope to never see another, yet I can say with all surety, there will be more—probably many more. Do you remember how I used to talk about wanting to see some action? Having had that wish fulfilled, I can tell you that never seeing another battle is now my fondest desire."
She was in a quandary, she couldn't tell him about his coming baby, nor about her feelings for Quinn. She wrote about her new home.
"Michigan is much colder than Kansas, but oddly, the cold days are broken up with days when you would think it was spring. Aunt Colleen tells me to wait until January when cold weather “makes Detroit its headquarters, and February breaks yer heart.”
"Their home is right across the street from the Detroit River. There are wooden sidewalks here, and the larger streets are paved with circles cut from tree trunks and coated with creosote to preserve them. I’m told the narrower streets are mud almost year-round."
................................................................................................
D'Arcy made a friend, Megan, at school, the eldest of eight or nine children in an Irish family, who said her mother might not notice D'Arcy wasn't one of them; she told D'Arcy just that. Darcy visited often, learning babycare and other things from Megan even as she learned cooking from Colleen.
Quinn said he'd leave at end of January. Suzanne pleaded with him to stay, but he would do so only if she married him. Since the family had told everybody around in Detroit that she was married and her husband was in the war, she couldn't.
"The second week of January, a cold wind came across the river and settled on the city like a smothering blanket. The river froze so hard, the ice was too thick to cut through for fishing unless the men went half-way to Canada. The piles of snow that had fallen in December coated the streets with filthy ice. Buggies were put away in the stable houses and exchanged for sleighs.
"In an effort to keep her legs warm on the walk to school, D’Arcy wore two pairs of long stockings and two pairs of gloves on her hands. Her breath came out in white billows, and the drops of condensation froze on her eyelashes. She wrapped extra scarves around her neck and face and pulled one scarf up to the bottom of her eyes and her knit hat down to her eyebrows. Ian teased her about looking like a spy from the South. Some mornings, when she inhaled, the cold air burned her lungs, and she wrapped a second scarf over her nose. Once home from school, D’Arcy stayed indoors the rest of the day.
"Uncle Sean harnessed the horses to take him to work in the morning.
"“Won’t they freeze to death,” D’Arcy asked, “waiting outside all day?”
"“No such thing,” Uncle Sean said. “They’ll wait right inside the manufactory. I’d never let anything bad happen to my horses.”
"The only snow that fell came not in big, lacy flakes, but tiny, hard pellets that skittered across the ice-covered sidewalk and crunched under D’Arcy’s boots. Suzanne was afraid to leave the house for fear of falling.
"“It’s too cold to snow much now,” Uncle Sean said. “Wait ’til March. Ye’ll see more snow than ya ever wanted.”
"As much as they hated the cold and the imprisonment of ice, neither D’Arcy nor Suzanne wished away the month. They dreaded the end of January much more than they did the weather.
"On the thirty-first, Quinn announced, “I’m almost packed. I’ll be leaving on the early train.”"
Suzanne and D'Arcy both wept.
March brought circuses and daffodils blossom, interspersed with a large snowfall and a cold week. Baby Matilda died, and D'Arcy attended the funeral since Megan and rest of her whole family had flu. D'Arcy grieved and decided she'd be neither Baptist nor Catholic.
Suzanne had twins, and she named them Aidan Sean and Francine Abigael, asking Colleen to be their godmother.
................................................................................................
"Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant and forty-two thousand troops from the Army of the Tennessee camped in wooded ravines on the west side of the Tennessee River. They’d waited a month for General Don Carlos Buell and the Army of the Ohio to join them. The plan was for the united forces to drive deep into the South and secure the junction of the four railroads that met at Corinth, Mississippi.
"During the last months of winter, cold, damp, and close proximity sent dysentery surging through the ranks. The bored and disheartened men began calling it the Tennessee Two-Step.
:The mood of the force lifted in April when woodlands blossomed with spring wildflowers, trees budded out with new leaves, and birds filled the air with mating calls. The ground was soft and wet from the thaw.
"Experienced troops lazed around enjoying the sunshine. Out of proper uniform— many barefoot—they watched the fresh recruits being drilled and joked about how they would soon find out what real war was all about.
"There had been skirmishes with the enemy for months, and the scattered sounds of gunfire at five a.m. were assumed to be between opposing patrols. They were ignored.
"Confederate General Albert Sidney Johnston—one of Jefferson Davis’s favorites—camped with his own army of over thirty-five thousand troops only twenty-two miles away. He had no intention of waiting for Buell to unite with Grant.
"On Sunday morning, April 6, the Rebs moved north. They followed a plan drawn up by Johnston’s second-in-command, Brigadier General Pierre Gustave Beauregard—an admirer of Napoleon. They would “divide and conquer.” Johnston split the troops into two groups and sent the Confederates to opposite sides of the Union forces."
"Almost immediately, the Union forces were pushed back toward the river. The battle became a day-long dance of Rebs advancing, only to be pushed back by Union soldiers. With each surge forward, the Rebs gained more ground than they lost."
"The fierce battle went on until after dark, when a heavy rainstorm made it impossible to carry on the fight. With heavy losses, Grant’s forces fell back.
"Unable to gather their dead and wounded, both armies left the bodies on the field. Most were already dead, but during the stormy night, many died from neglect.
"Confederate General Johnston—shot in the back of his knee, probably by a misdirected bullet from his own men—bled to death. General Beauregard took command. Assuming victory, the Rebs celebrated as they spent the night in the Union camps. Beauregard wired Richmond that he had won the battle.
"During the night, eighteen thousand Union troops in riverboats led by Buell, and roughly three thousand more led by Major General Lew Wallace, fought their way against the current of the river and joined Grant’s forces. On the morning of April 7th, Grant launched a counter-attack. This time, he was the one with the advantage of surprise.
"After another day of constant battle, the Southern troops retreated to Corinth. Grant prepared to pursue the Rebels and win a more decisive victory, but he was overruled by Major General Henry Halleck, who outranked him.
"In all, over a hundred thousand men had engaged in what came to be known as the Battle of Shiloh. Ten percent of that figure was confirmed dead. Hundreds more went missing.
"It could hardly be called a victory by the Union, but it did set the ground for the North to maintain control of both the rivers and the railroads. Ultimately, that became more important than ground won or lost."
Taylor was wounded and found by a Quaker,who helped him; he returned to his outfit eventually, but had trouble with restoring his legs to their normal function. He was taken by McPherson as his side, and his mother wrote to say she might not live long.
"He approached McPherson. “Sir, it will take some time for the enlisted men to be examined. My mother is ill. I’d like to visit her.”
"“Where does she live?” “Independence, Kentucky.”
"“I’m not familiar with Independence. Where is it?”
"“Not too far south of Cincinnati.”
"“Then you won’t be travelling through dangerous territory. Go ahead. I’ll give you a week.”
"The leave granted, Taylor wrote to Suzanne. He closed his letter by saying,
"I have good reason to believe that the war is finally drawing to a close. I will be taking a leave in a few days. Sad to say, I am not given enough time to travel to Detroit. I long to see your sweet face once more, but I am needed elsewhere. My mother wrote that her health is failing badly, and I feel I must visit her while I can. I hope you understand.
"I love you more than ever,
"Yours,
"Jonathan"
"Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant and forty-two thousand troops from the Army of the Tennessee camped in wooded ravines on the west side of the Tennessee River. They’d waited a month for General Don Carlos Buell and the Army of the Ohio to join them. The plan was for the united forces to drive deep into the South and secure the junction of the four railroads that met at Corinth, Mississippi.
"During the last months of winter, cold, damp, and close proximity sent dysentery surging through the ranks. The bored and disheartened men began calling it the Tennessee Two-Step.
:The mood of the force lifted in April when woodlands blossomed with spring wildflowers, trees budded out with new leaves, and birds filled the air with mating calls. The ground was soft and wet from the thaw.
"Experienced troops lazed around enjoying the sunshine. Out of proper uniform— many barefoot—they watched the fresh recruits being drilled and joked about how they would soon find out what real war was all about.
"There had been skirmishes with the enemy for months, and the scattered sounds of gunfire at five a.m. were assumed to be between opposing patrols. They were ignored.
"Confederate General Albert Sidney Johnston—one of Jefferson Davis’s favorites—camped with his own army of over thirty-five thousand troops only twenty-two miles away. He had no intention of waiting for Buell to unite with Grant.
"On Sunday morning, April 6, the Rebs moved north. They followed a plan drawn up by Johnston’s second-in-command, Brigadier General Pierre Gustave Beauregard—an admirer of Napoleon. They would “divide and conquer.” Johnston split the troops into two groups and sent the Confederates to opposite sides of the Union forces."
"Almost immediately, the Union forces were pushed back toward the river. The battle became a day-long dance of Rebs advancing, only to be pushed back by Union soldiers. With each surge forward, the Rebs gained more ground than they lost."
"The fierce battle went on until after dark, when a heavy rainstorm made it impossible to carry on the fight. With heavy losses, Grant’s forces fell back.
"Unable to gather their dead and wounded, both armies left the bodies on the field. Most were already dead, but during the stormy night, many died from neglect.
"Confederate General Johnston—shot in the back of his knee, probably by a misdirected bullet from his own men—bled to death. General Beauregard took command. Assuming victory, the Rebs celebrated as they spent the night in the Union camps. Beauregard wired Richmond that he had won the battle.
"During the night, eighteen thousand Union troops in riverboats led by Buell, and roughly three thousand more led by Major General Lew Wallace, fought their way against the current of the river and joined Grant’s forces. On the morning of April 7th, Grant launched a counter-attack. This time, he was the one with the advantage of surprise.
"After another day of constant battle, the Southern troops retreated to Corinth. Grant prepared to pursue the Rebels and win a more decisive victory, but he was overruled by Major General Henry Halleck, who outranked him.
"In all, over a hundred thousand men had engaged in what came to be known as the Battle of Shiloh. Ten percent of that figure was confirmed dead. Hundreds more went missing.
"It could hardly be called a victory by the Union, but it did set the ground for the North to maintain control of both the rivers and the railroads. Ultimately, that became more important than ground won or lost."
................................................................................................
Taylor was wounded and found by a Quaker,who helped him; he returned to his outfit eventually, but had trouble with restoring his legs to their normal function. He was taken by McPherson as his side, and his mother wrote to say she might not live long.
"He approached McPherson. “Sir, it will take some time for the enlisted men to be examined. My mother is ill. I’d like to visit her.”
"“Where does she live?” “Independence, Kentucky.”
"“I’m not familiar with Independence. Where is it?”
"“Not too far south of Cincinnati.”
"“Then you won’t be travelling through dangerous territory. Go ahead. I’ll give you a week.”
"The leave granted, Taylor wrote to Suzanne. He closed his letter by saying,
"I have good reason to believe that the war is finally drawing to a close. I will be taking a leave in a few days. Sad to say, I am not given enough time to travel to Detroit. I long to see your sweet face once more, but I am needed elsewhere. My mother wrote that her health is failing badly, and I feel I must visit her while I can. I hope you understand.
"I love you more than ever,
"Yours,
"Jonathan"
................................................................................................
"“Twenty thousand were sent home or transferred to assignments outside of Sherman’s command. That left us over eighty thousand men—hardened by battle—at the peak of their physical fitness and eager for the fight. No commander in history has ever faced the enemy with a better prepared force, and I’m sure no army has ever had a leader more determined than Sherman.”
"Thanks to daily mending of the railroad tracks damaged by hit-and-run Confederates, Sherman’s eighty thousand troops were fully supplied. He was resolved to see they stayed that way. The forces had to travel close enough to the tracks to protect them. He chose the paths carefully. Having extensively explored the Georgia Mountains while working with the Inspector General in the 1840s, he knew the region well. Sherman’s men would not be sacrificed by being sent into canyons where Southern troops could fire cannons, muskets, and rifles on them from perches hundreds of feet above.
"Taylor, McPherson, and the Army of the Tennessee began their odyssey to Savannah on May 23, 1864. They easily passed through the Snake Creek Gap and approached the outskirts of Resaka, where they were stopped by earthen fortifications. Instead of forging ahead and taking on badly outnumbered Confederate General Albert Johnston, McPherson had his men dig in. A disappointed Sherman told him, “Mac, you have missed the great opportunity of your life.”
"Johnston fell back the last mile south to Resaka. McPherson finally advanced, and Johnston retreated another twenty-five miles toward Cassville, and then fourteen miles more to the heavily fortified, mountainous Allatoona Pass."
"Skirmishes along the way did little real damage, but the Rebs under General Johnston reached Dallas first and were well-entrenched before Sherman’s forces arrived. On May 25th and 26th, a fierce battle took place. The men who survived referred to it as “the hell hole.”
"As they pressed ahead, the skirmishes and battles went on, with Sherman losing sixteen hundred men at Pickett’s Mill. They kept traveling, but so did Johnston. The first week in June, they reached the Western and Atlantic station near Marietta, only to find Johnston had once again beaten them to it and taken up position in a line across Kennesaw Mountain."
"Sherman complained privately to McPherson, “I’m tired of moving Johnston around as if we were playing a game of chess. The farther we go, the more men I have to leave behind to guard the tracks and keep the supply line open. I have almost as many men on track duty as I have traveling with me.”
"Yet, Sherman and his men moved on. As they traveled, the Southerners pestered them like mosquitoes in a swamp. They sniped from hilltops and made quick strikes wherever the line of Union soldiers thinned, killing as many as possible and then withdrawing into the forests. All along the road to Atlanta, they charged in to tear up unattended railroad tracks. Sherman’s crews were kept busy repairing the damage.
"General McPherson’s Army of the Tennessee passed Decatur and moved on to Bald Hill. On July 22nd, Atlanta lay sprawled in front of them."
Taylor and McPherson along with another, Baldwin, were caught in a skirmish where Krebs were attacking, and McPherson died. Taylor was wounded and thrown off, and unconscious. He woke in a Chicago hospital three weeks later, halfway to recovery after having been treated with surgery and more in two hospitals, and began recovery. He was notified his mother had died, and preferred to recover at home rather than at another nursing home.
"Taylor left the hospital in a wheelchair pushed by Alcott. He arrived home on September 2nd, the day Atlanta finally fell."
"By the end of November, Taylor ventured out and walked up and down the path in front of the houses. Alcott went with him, but walked by his side instead of behind."
"On the first of December, Alcott brought a cane, and Taylor mastered the art of balance it required. His right foot still had to be dragged into position, but he no longer fell.
"At dinner one night, he announced, “I’m going to Detroit. I can’t stand it any longer.”"
"The next morning, he told Alcott, “I’m not going to send them a wire. I want you to go with me. It will be late in the day when we arrive in Detroit. I’ll book us into a hotel, and we’ll try to get a night’s rest. The next day, I want you to go to the Curran house with me. If I’m rejected, we’ll leave on the next train out and come back here.”
"“I’ll go with you, but more for moral support than anything else. You can get by without me now. When I leave Detroit, I’ll be taking the train back to Chicago. There are other soldiers who need me more than you.”
"Taylor hung his head. “Yes. I suppose there are, but none will ever be more appreciative than I.”"
"“Twenty thousand were sent home or transferred to assignments outside of Sherman’s command. That left us over eighty thousand men—hardened by battle—at the peak of their physical fitness and eager for the fight. No commander in history has ever faced the enemy with a better prepared force, and I’m sure no army has ever had a leader more determined than Sherman.”
"Thanks to daily mending of the railroad tracks damaged by hit-and-run Confederates, Sherman’s eighty thousand troops were fully supplied. He was resolved to see they stayed that way. The forces had to travel close enough to the tracks to protect them. He chose the paths carefully. Having extensively explored the Georgia Mountains while working with the Inspector General in the 1840s, he knew the region well. Sherman’s men would not be sacrificed by being sent into canyons where Southern troops could fire cannons, muskets, and rifles on them from perches hundreds of feet above.
"Taylor, McPherson, and the Army of the Tennessee began their odyssey to Savannah on May 23, 1864. They easily passed through the Snake Creek Gap and approached the outskirts of Resaka, where they were stopped by earthen fortifications. Instead of forging ahead and taking on badly outnumbered Confederate General Albert Johnston, McPherson had his men dig in. A disappointed Sherman told him, “Mac, you have missed the great opportunity of your life.”
"Johnston fell back the last mile south to Resaka. McPherson finally advanced, and Johnston retreated another twenty-five miles toward Cassville, and then fourteen miles more to the heavily fortified, mountainous Allatoona Pass."
"Skirmishes along the way did little real damage, but the Rebs under General Johnston reached Dallas first and were well-entrenched before Sherman’s forces arrived. On May 25th and 26th, a fierce battle took place. The men who survived referred to it as “the hell hole.”
"As they pressed ahead, the skirmishes and battles went on, with Sherman losing sixteen hundred men at Pickett’s Mill. They kept traveling, but so did Johnston. The first week in June, they reached the Western and Atlantic station near Marietta, only to find Johnston had once again beaten them to it and taken up position in a line across Kennesaw Mountain."
"Sherman complained privately to McPherson, “I’m tired of moving Johnston around as if we were playing a game of chess. The farther we go, the more men I have to leave behind to guard the tracks and keep the supply line open. I have almost as many men on track duty as I have traveling with me.”
"Yet, Sherman and his men moved on. As they traveled, the Southerners pestered them like mosquitoes in a swamp. They sniped from hilltops and made quick strikes wherever the line of Union soldiers thinned, killing as many as possible and then withdrawing into the forests. All along the road to Atlanta, they charged in to tear up unattended railroad tracks. Sherman’s crews were kept busy repairing the damage.
"General McPherson’s Army of the Tennessee passed Decatur and moved on to Bald Hill. On July 22nd, Atlanta lay sprawled in front of them."
Taylor and McPherson along with another, Baldwin, were caught in a skirmish where Krebs were attacking, and McPherson died. Taylor was wounded and thrown off, and unconscious. He woke in a Chicago hospital three weeks later, halfway to recovery after having been treated with surgery and more in two hospitals, and began recovery. He was notified his mother had died, and preferred to recover at home rather than at another nursing home.
"Taylor left the hospital in a wheelchair pushed by Alcott. He arrived home on September 2nd, the day Atlanta finally fell."
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"By the end of November, Taylor ventured out and walked up and down the path in front of the houses. Alcott went with him, but walked by his side instead of behind."
"On the first of December, Alcott brought a cane, and Taylor mastered the art of balance it required. His right foot still had to be dragged into position, but he no longer fell.
"At dinner one night, he announced, “I’m going to Detroit. I can’t stand it any longer.”"
"The next morning, he told Alcott, “I’m not going to send them a wire. I want you to go with me. It will be late in the day when we arrive in Detroit. I’ll book us into a hotel, and we’ll try to get a night’s rest. The next day, I want you to go to the Curran house with me. If I’m rejected, we’ll leave on the next train out and come back here.”
"“I’ll go with you, but more for moral support than anything else. You can get by without me now. When I leave Detroit, I’ll be taking the train back to Chicago. There are other soldiers who need me more than you.”
"Taylor hung his head. “Yes. I suppose there are, but none will ever be more appreciative than I.”"
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Suzanne married Jonathan, who was surprised about the children; D'Arcy hated him, and his son wouldn't go near him, but Abigael did. They stayed on since Sean and Colleen didn't want them to leave. Ian died at Petersburg in the war, and D'Arcy hated Jonathan for being alive.
April 9, war was over. April 15. The President was shot. News of his death arrived next day. People mourned in streets everywhere.
"When the papers printed that the funeral train carrying the President and his son Willie would make its way through Cleveland, thousands of Detroiters made the trip to Ohio to watch it pass. The train slowly made its way from Washington to Springfield, Illinois, and throngs of mourners gathered at every junction. They knelt and prayed as the car carrying the body of the President passed."
The matters came finally to a head, and D'Arcy exploded at Jonathan. He suggested she return to Manhattan, and everyone agreed, but then she wouldn't leave Aidan behind. Suzanne said it was her son, and Jonathan's.
D'Arcy ran away in the morning taking Aidan with her.
Suzanne married Jonathan, who was surprised about the children; D'Arcy hated him, and his son wouldn't go near him, but Abigael did. They stayed on since Sean and Colleen didn't want them to leave. Ian died at Petersburg in the war, and D'Arcy hated Jonathan for being alive.
April 9, war was over. April 15. The President was shot. News of his death arrived next day. People mourned in streets everywhere.
"When the papers printed that the funeral train carrying the President and his son Willie would make its way through Cleveland, thousands of Detroiters made the trip to Ohio to watch it pass. The train slowly made its way from Washington to Springfield, Illinois, and throngs of mourners gathered at every junction. They knelt and prayed as the car carrying the body of the President passed."
The matters came finally to a head, and D'Arcy exploded at Jonathan. He suggested she return to Manhattan, and everyone agreed, but then she wouldn't leave Aidan behind. Suzanne said it was her son, and Jonathan's.
D'Arcy ran away in the morning taking Aidan with her.
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March 11, 2020 - March 13, 2020.
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March 11, 2020 - March 13, 2020.
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