As the capital of the confederacy experienced its final days, Verity Stuart, a lifelong resident of Richmond, Virginia, was falling in love with an Englishman, Giles Tredwell, who was spying for the Union.

Alas Richmond

A Civil War RomanceBy Nikki Stoddard Schofield

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Nikki Stoddard Schofield
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-8773-7

Contents

Preview.............................................................................xiAcknowledgements....................................................................xiiiAbout the Author....................................................................xvOne Lynchburg Depot Monday, August 29, 1864........................................1Two Rodents in the Room Tuesday, August 30, 1864...................................17Three No More Laudanum Wednesday, August 31, 1864..................................39Four Identifying the Body Friday, September 2, 1864................................52Five James River and Kanawha Canal Saturday, September 3, 1864.....................67Six Overcrowded Capital Sunday, September 4, 1864..................................87Seven Preparing For Burial Monday, September 5, 1864...............................106Eight Hollywood Cemetery Tuesday, September 6, 1864................................125Nine Morgan Is Dead Wednesday, September 7, 1864...................................138Ten Surgery Saturday, September 10, 1864...........................................146Eleven Fugitives Saturday, September 24, 1864......................................163Twelve Who is Esek? Friday, October 7, 1864........................................184Thirteen Summer Meadows Early November 1864........................................201Fourteen Stolen Jewels Late November 1864..........................................220Fifteen Castle Thunder December 1864...............................................238Sixteen Chunder and Motley December 25, 1864.......................................252Seventeen Joe's Sixteenth Birthday Friday, January 13, 1865........................263Eighteen Arming Slaves February 1865...............................................279Nineteen A Visitor Friday, March 17, 1865..........................................291Twenty City Aflame Sunday, April 2, 1865...........................................306Twenty One The Burnt District April 1865...........................................322Resources...........................................................................335

Chapter One

Lynchburg Depot

Monday, August 29, 1864

A sudden thunderbolt burst from an angry sky. Rain beat against the tin roof of the Lynchburg train depot. Travelers on the crowded platform huddled against the brick wall to protect themselves from the storm. Two oarsmen on the James River, down the slope from the depot, were struggling to get to shore as waves sloshed over the sides of their rowboat. Giles Tredwell, inside the large building, loosened his silk cravat and rubbed away the trickle of perspiration under his collar. The August heat and humidity reminded him of the Roman sauna at Bath, England, which he had visited many times with his family.

Maybe it will be cooler on the platform, thought Giles, opening the door to go outside. A blast of hot wind struck him in the face. He backed against the bricks and set his tan leather bag down beside him. Two young women a few feet away were arguing. They stood facing each other on opposite sides of a pine coffin.

"That's my husband's body!" shouted Sarah Winthrop, a gaunt woman with straw-colored hair. She was standing beside her father-in-law who was bearded and glum. Hands on her hips, she was loud enough to be heard clearly over the howling storm.

"No! It's my husband!" declared Verity Stuart, in a firm but calmer voice. She was standing alone, her gloved hands clutched together at her waist. "It must be," she added softly.

But Giles heard her because she was near. Both women were dressed in black and wore veils, but Sarah's was flipped back over her bonnet so her angry face was visible. Giles could not see if Verity was angry but her voice, sounding raspy, quavered on the last three words. He knew she was upset.

"Look at the undertaker's certificate," said Joseph Tompkins, the station master, carrying a crate past the end of the casket and pointing.

Mr. Winthrop slowly read aloud. "Certificate of Undertaker, Lynchburg, Virginia. I hereby certify that I have embalmed this dead body for transportation so no fluids will escape from the case and no offensive odor will be detected."

"What's the name?" his daughter-in-law asked.

"Cain't read it. Rain smeared the ink," Mr. Winthrop answered.

"Just open the casket. Look at the face," said a one-armed man in a dirty Confederate uniform.

"Manico, fetch a crowbar," Mr. Tompkins ordered as he set the crate beside the train tracks.

Manico Wrenn, the porter, did as he was told. Although a free man now, Manico had been a slave most of his twenty-five years and was accustomed to taking orders.

Giles looked west, saw no sign of the 3:00 o'clock train, and turned his attention back to the drama surrounding the coffin.

"Pardon me, ma'am. Pardon, suh," said Manico, shouldering his way through the crowd.

"Pry it up," ordered Mr. Tompkins, just as a flash of lightning illuminated the roiling dark sky. Verity, watching the crowbar dig into the casket lid, swayed backwards. Giles quickly moved to her side.

Is she going to collapse? He lightly touched the small of her back but quickly removed his hand when she straightened.

The roaring wind muffled the sound of creaking nails in the pine.

Mr. Winthrop snarled at Verity, "I paid for his embalming. If it's your husband, you gotta pay me back."

The lid was up. Thunder boomed. Verity jerked at the sound. Mrs. Winthrop peered over the coffin's edge, held her handkerchief to her mouth and turned her face toward the brick wall. Her father-in-law leaned forward to see the dead body.

"Will you look?" Giles said to the widow beside him.

Glancing into the wooden box at the same time Mr. Winthrop did, Verity immediately fainted. As she crumpled to the platform, Giles grabbed her around the waist.

Mr. Winthrop declared, "That's Herbert! That's my son!"

"Nail it up, Manico," the station master told the porter.

Giles lifted Verity into his arms and felt a stab of pain in his left shoulder which radiated down his arm.

"Take her inside," someone said.

"This way," said the soldier with the empty sleeve as he opened the door.

Giles carried Verity toward the entrance, but her hoop skirt ballooned up in the wind, obstructing his view. Turning around, he went through backwards. The one-armed man yanked the door shut.

Inside, Giles lowered his burden to a bench and felt the sharp pain ease. His left shoulder had a piece of shrapnel from the Battle of Winchester. It ached during rainy weather but was usually tolerable. He knew better than to lift something heavy, but he would not let this woman fall on the platform.

"Poor thing," said a white-haired woman, coming to the bench. "What happened to her?" She began tucking the hem of Verity's skirt around her ankles.

"She fainted at the sight of a man in the coffin," Giles answered, tugging his arm from under her voluminous black silk skirt.

"You a Yankee?" asked the woman as she pushed down the whale bone hoops of Verity's full skirt and made certain that her legs were covered.

"No, ma'am. English," said Giles.

Using her railroad timetable to fan the still form, the...