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Boulevard of Confusion

By Sandra Merville Hart

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C H A P T E R 1

WASHINGTON CITY
FEBRUARY 7, 1862

“My Aunt Trudy has invited us to make a
prolonged stay with her.” Beatrice Swanson held
the letter closer to the gaslight lamp in the elegant parlor decorated in shades of mauve and blue. She scanned it again before glancing at her cousin, who sat on a cushioned chair adjacent to hers. “Meg, you remember her, don’t you? Gertrude Weston?”
“I’m not likely to forget such a loving, gracious woman.” Meg Brooks glanced up from her knitting. “Don’t you remember when your mother and my mother took all of us girls to Richmond? We stayed at her home for the better part of the summer.”
“That’s right. I was nine.” Memories of picnics, boat rides on the James River, and lazy days spent at Uncle Isaac’s plantation increased Bea’s nostalgia for carefree days. Nothing like these days, when one never escaped war news.
“I turned sixteen that summer.” Pink tinged Meg’s cheeks. “I
was courted for the first time there. It’s difficult to believe that ten years have passed.”
“It wasn’t Thomas?”
“Gracious, no.” Meg’s eyes brightened and then dimmed like the waning moon outside. “I didn’t meet Thomas for another year. Mother always fretted that our six-month courtship wasn’t long enough, yet time has proved otherwise. We were married almost seven years.”
“He was a good man.” Beatrice touched her cousin’s shoulder, blinking back her own tears at the sadness in Meg’s eyes. The widow had finally spoken of her beloved husband, gone nearly two years. Surely that was a good sign that healing had begun.
“The best.” Meg straightened her shoulders, and Beatrice’s hand fell away. “This isn’t her first invitation to you and
Annie.”
“You are also included.”
“That’s very kind.” Meg’s fingers rubbed across the blue yarn soon to be a blanket.
A log crackled, shooting a spark onto the hearth. “Everyone receives a warm welcome at my aunt’s home.”
“I need a change of scenery, but do you think your father will agree to us traveling to Virginia while the war rages?”
“It’s a short trip, only about a hundred miles.” Bea gave her a playful grin. “Why would he hesitate?”
“The war.”
Bea dropped the letter on the wood table beside the lamp. The Army of Potomac was in Virginia, with her own brotherin-law camped at Minor’s Hill as part of General Morrell’s Brigade. “I wish John and Annie had waited until we were all back in Washington City to marry last month.”
“The uncertainty of when John will march South…they made the best of a tough situation.” Setting her knitting on the chair beside her, Meg knotted her hands. “Especially since we were all in Boston for his father’s funeral. Who knows when both sides of the family will be together again?”
“I suppose.” Poor Annie hadn’t even had her wedding dress. The seamstress had labored over the gown for three weeks, and it still hung upstairs. The pink dress Bea had planned to wear was equally unused, but she could wear it to a party, at least. Those disappointments had paled in comparison to her brother’s absence. He was being held at Fort Warren as a prisoner of war. He hadn’t been able to see his sister married to his best friend.
Meg weaved her fingers into the sweep of auburn curls gathered with combs. “At least Will has since been exchanged.”
“That’s another thing that bothers me.” Beatrice ambled to the massive first-floor window and pushed aside the curtain to stare into the darkness. Blond ringlets brushing against her shoulders reflected in the glass against the night. “We barely spent three hours with Will at Fort Monroe before the Flag of Truce boat whisked him away.”
With a long sigh, Meg joined her at the window. “Two days ago. Just think. He may be holding his daughter for the first time as we speak.”
“A comforting thought.” Bea’s heart lightened at the possibility. “Hannah will be two months old tomorrow. I’m eager to meet my sweet niece. Father decided that North Carolina is too far away to travel until things settle. Our disappointment at this delay is one reason I believe Father will agree to our Richmond trip.”
The door opened, and Annie slipped inside. “Are you discussing the invitation?” She joined them at the window. Beatrice nodded.
“You’ve been out of sorts for weeks. Maybe a trip will do you good, but I don’t know that Father…” Annie looked around the room. “He’s not home from the bank yet?”
Bea glanced at the mantle clock. “No, and it’s after eight.
Perhaps our trip to Fort Monroe this week left him behind on tasks.”
“He works too hard.” Annie sighed.
“He always has.” Bea rested her forehead on the cold pane. “Meg will accompany us if Father gives his consent.”
“You will?” Annie’s face brightened. “That makes me happier in my decision to remain here. For now.”
“Why?” Beatrice stepped back. She had depended on her sister’s cooperation to insure their father’s agreement.
“Because John may be able to visit a day or two before he marches out. I can’t miss the opportunity to see him.”
Meg inclined her head. “Any news?”
“Nothing official, though he expects they’ll leave when the weather warms.” She turned to the darkness of the window. “I miss him already.”
“I agree it’s best you stay.” Meg touched her arm. “Those are difficult circumstances.” She turned to Bea. “When do you want to go?”
“There’s an Inauguration for Confederate President
Jefferson Davis later this month. I’d like to be there. I attended
President Lincoln’s Inauguration last year.” Annie stared at her. Meg raised her eyebrows.
“Our brother fights for the Confederacy, Annie. No matter our loyalties, it seems like a historic event.”
Meg placed another log on the fire. “Is that why you want to go to Virginia?”
“No.” Beatrice scarcely understood her reasons. “I simply feel that I must go. Aunt Trudy’s spirits are low. She needs the comfort of family.”
Annie’s shoulders drooped.
Bea gripped her sister’s wrist. “She’ll understand why you remain at home.”
“We must obtain passes.” Meg poked at the burning logs. “Traveling won’t be as easy as it was before the hostilities began.”
“Father will help us.” Bea’s confidence in her father, a wealthy banker with many connections, was complete. First, she must convince him to allow her and Meg to travel to Richmond for an extended visit.

M
eg and Annie had gone to bed when Beatrice heard a noise in the hall. “Father? Is that you?” She left the parlor and peered down the hall dimly lit with lanterns hung sporadically on the walls.
“Bea?” Hiram Swanson’s slow stride brought him into view. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
“I can’t sleep.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “Have you eaten?”
“I had supper with a business acquaintance at the Willard Hotel.” He peered behind him. “I came through the back door, wondering if Rebecca had any cookies or pie lying about.”
“You and your sweet tooth.” Beatrice laughed. “She left you a bowl of cherry cobbler. I’ll fetch it. Do you want lemonade with it?”
“I suppose the coffee, if there is any left, is as cold as the night.”
“Quite likely.” Though Beatrice didn’t share his love of the beverage, she wished she knew how to prepare it. “Water, then?
Or milk?”
“Water, please.”
“Sir, may I take your coat?”
Beatrice swung around. She should have known their grayhaired butler hadn’t retired with his wife to their cottage in the woods behind the mansion. Irving Grant took pride in giving excellent service to her family. As long as her father was out, he’d watch for him.
“Yes, thank you, Irving.” After shrugging off his coat, Hiram gave it and his hat to his butler. “Up rather late, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Is there anything you require tonight?”
Hiram waved him off. “Go on home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Very good, then, sir. Good night, Mr. Swanson, Miss Beatrice.”
“I’ll bring your cobbler into the parlor, where the fire’s still going. I pushed two chairs closer to the fireplace to warm you.”
“Ah. Was ever a man more blessed in his children than I?” A twinkle lit his weary eyes.
“Not likely.” She laughed, teasing him. “I’ll be right back.” Despite his sleepy demeanor, she decided as she hurried down the shadowed hallway to make her request tonight. His exhaustion might incline him to agree.
He was lounging against the cushioned back of an armchair when Beatrice set the cobbler, linen napkin, spoon, and a tumbler of cold water on the round table beside him. “This smells delicious…and it tastes as good as it smells. You’d never know it’s made using canned cherries.”
“Except that it’s February.” His eyes gleamed at the first bite. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
She traced an intricate leaf pattern carved into the chair arm. “Does anything have to be on my mind for me to wait up for you?”
He chuckled. “It’s long been your custom to wait up for me when you’re troubled about something rather than allow a matter to wait for the morrow.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” She laughed a little at this tendency in herself. “A letter arrived from Aunt Trudy today.”
“Did it now?” He shoveled in another bite as if starved.
“Yes, the fighting has upset her. She has invited Annie, Meg, and me to come for an extended visit. She thought President Jefferson’s upcoming inauguration would sway us.”
“She wants you so soon? That’s only a couple of weeks away. What’s the rush?”
“To be fair, all her recent letters have hinted at our coming. She wants to meet Annie’s new husband, though she understands it’s not possible.” Beatrice clasped her hands together. “She’s lonely since Uncle Parker passed.”
“He’s been gone twenty years.” He set down his empty bowl on a side table. “You’ll have to do better than that to convince me.”
“She is lonely… and perhaps nervous about the fighting. But I guess I want to go as much for myself as for her.” Blue flames engulfed the burning logs. “I’m restless. Longing for my Southern family. Will’s captivity depressed my spirits to such an extent that only a prolonged visit with him would have eased it.”
“Scarcely three hours.” Hiram rubbed his hands over his face, rough whiskers making a sandpaper noise, his early morning clean-shaven skin a distant memory. “Not nearly enough for a father starved for his son’s company either.”
“I know.” She spoke softly. Her father was a strong, confident man, yet Will’s captivity weighed on him. Stripes of gray hair had thickened in his brown mane the past year. She breathed a silent prayer of gratitude that the heartache of Will’s imprisonment was behind them. “Annie refuses to leave Washington City for fear she’ll miss an unplanned visit from John.”
He shook his head. “A vain hope, I’m afraid. After the extended leave last fall and the two weeks to bury his father, I’m afraid it’ll be some time before the Union sets him loose for any length of time.”
“At least they had enough time for a quick wedding.”
“Not the grand affair I’d planned for my sweet daughter.” His shoulders slumped. “But best under the circumstances.”
“True.” Neither had it been the day she’d dreamed for her adored sister, yet Annie had been a radiant bride for her groom, who’d had eyes only for her. Would anyone ever feel that way about Bea? Of her many beaus, none touched her heart the way John had her sister’s. Bea resolved to wait for such a love.
“As to traveling to Richmond”—Hiram shook his head—“I can’t leave the bank for weeks.”
“Are we still losing customers, Father?” She searched his wary expression. Annie had explained that some customers had withdrawn their money last year to move South.
“No. For months I feared the loss of great numbers of our customers, but that time seems to have passed.” He raised open palms heavenward. “We weathered the storm.”
“Good news.” Tension eased from her back. Except for wedding preparations, the family had continued to be frugal. Perhaps it made a difference. “Please don’t think you need accompany Meg and me to Virginia.”
“Troops from both sides are camped in that state.” Hiram contemplated the dying flames. “I fear more battles will be fought there.”
“As the capital, surely Richmond is the safest place in the Confederacy.”
“Agreed.” He rubbed the back of his neck until it turned red. “Normally, I would not consider it.”
“Meg will be with me.” Bea caught her breath, sensing that he was wavering.
“A competent and reliable companion indeed.” His fingers thudded against the wooden chair arm.
“Please, Father. I’d experience a special moment in history, especially if the South wins.”
His head jerked toward her. “Do you feel that’s possible?”
Bea’s eyes widened. “I think it’s unlikely.” Will, her courageous brother, had fought for the Confederacy before his capture and planned to rejoin after seeing his family. Her daily prayers always included a plea for his safety. “Yet certainly, it’s possible. I cannot wish defeat upon Will. Nor do I desire the Union to lose.”
“That was my dilemma.” His fingertips pressed together until they turned white.
“Was your dilemma?” Her body tensed. “What do you mean?”
“Will’s captivity in a Northern prison altered my thinking. I can’t, in good conscience, stand in opposition to my only son.” Her heart skipped a beat. Did he mean…?
“I was born and raised near Richmond. I love Virginia. Still consider it my home. Thanks to your mother’s compassionate nature, I cannot abide slavery.” Hiram shook his head. “Will agrees. He isn’t fighting to preserve it. No, your brother fights to protect his home from an invading army. I can’t fault him for that.”
Beatrice gasped. “I thought…I—” Her heroic father teetered on the pedestal that she’d placed him on as a child.
“That I was for the Union?”
She managed a nod beyond the chaos in her heart.
“I was, though I did my best to help your mother’s old friend, Widow Greenhow, when she asked for it. Nothing much. Information about troops, fortifications, weaponry, and the like, information that seemed public knowledge. Certainly, I considered everything I told her as already known to Confederate generals. I gave it for a time and then stopped, fearing repercussions on the bank and my daughters.”
Which mattered most, the bank or his family? Ice formed in her stomach. Her father had provided information to Rose Greenhow before she was arrested as a Confederate spy? Did that make him a spy? She covered her mouth with both hands to keep from gasping.
“Never fear. You ascertained my loyalty correctly last summer.”
“What about all those late meetings? Times when you left and didn’t explain where you were going?”
“Ah, yes.” A sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. “I walked a fine line with my customers who support the Confederacy. When they came to me for reassurance, I had to provide it or
risk losing their deposits in our bank.”
The room spun. “You mean—"
“I allowed them to believe my loyalty is with our Southern neighbors.” Hiram lifted his chin. “Just as I allowed my staunch support for the Union to shine when speaking with Northern loyalists.”
She stared at a rose pattern on the rug. “That’s why you gave the appearance of helping Mrs. Greenhow.”
“Just so. She was a former bank customer. And your mother’s friend.” He ran a finger under his collar. “It was a dangerous undertaking, one that threatened to embroil our family in scandal. In my estimation, the only thing that saved us was that I never wrote any information down for Rose. All was given in a quick, hushed conversation. I left no evidence.”
Little things took on new meaning. Father had often seen the widow to the door when she left. Fear gripped Bea. Might her father be arrested if his help became public knowledge, especially since the widow was still in prison?
“As I said,” Father continued, “back then I supported the Union. Recent circumstances altered my thinking.” He leaned forward. “You told me earlier that Will’s capture and exchange left you feeling restless, unsettled. Did you expect a protective father to feel differently?”
Shock silenced her. They lived in the North. Had done so all her life. What did this change? “Does Annie know?”
“No.” Hiram straightened his shoulders. “Your sister is loyal to the Union. Her husband was recently promoted to second lieutenant in the Union army. As much as she loves him, I doubt she’d have married him if he supported the
South.”
“Annie’s loyalty has never wavered,” she whispered.
“I respect her devotion but can no longer share it.” He placed a firm hand on Bea’s arm. “She must never know.”
Beatrice covered her face to block out his agonized expression.
“Keep my secret so that we’ll remain close after the fighting ends.” Hiram’s hand fell away. “War has a way of dividing family. Friends. I’m determined it won’t separate my family by anything more than miles.”
“Annie felt betrayed that Will fought for the Confederacy.” Her hands bunched the folds of her wool dress into tight fists. She forced her fingers to relax in her lap. “I never did.”
“Nor did I.” Standing, he propped his arm on the fireplace mantle next to the clock.
After eleven already. Her chaotic thoughts caused her head to ache.
“Will you keep my secret? From Annie, John, Meg. Everyone up here?”
Bea wished he had never burdened her with knowledge in the first place. It must weigh on him as well. “I will.” To cause further division in the family was out of the question. “Rely on it.”
“Excellent.” He pressed his palm to his forehead. “About Richmond. You still want to go?”
“Of course.” Her father’s revelations had so jolted her that she’d almost forgotten her original request.
“I can obtain the necessary passes. No need to worry on that account.” Low flames swayed as he paced in front of the fireplace. “I’m giving my consent on two conditions.” “Yes?” Hope swelled like a bubble.
“First, Meg goes with you. When she returns to Washington
City, you are to come with her.”
“I will.” She couldn’t restrain her smile. “And the second?”
Father halted in front of the fire. “Your Uncle Isaac has written me. We haven’t been close for many years.” His back stiffened. “Your mother explained to you children how crushed I felt not to inherit a portion of the plantation as my father told me to expect. I’d always wondered why he…” He shook his head. “As I started to explain, Isaac has written of conditions in Richmond. He’s asked for my aid.” He turned on his heel to face her. “I’ve decided to comply with his request. You’ll help.”
The brothers hadn’t been close for years. Mystified, she inclined her head.
“I’m sending money for the Confederate government. You’ll hide it among your clothing and smuggle it to Richmond in my place.”

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