33. Extradition

1864–1865 WINTER

33

The winter was cold all alone in that house. Everyone was tired of the war. We were ready for it to end. Lincoln was running against General McClellan. Lincoln's reelection seemed doubtful, especially after his veto of the Wade–Davis Bill, which required the majority of the electorate in each Confederate state to swear past and future loyalty to the Union before the state could officially be restored.

But as newspapers blared news about Sherman advancing day after day toward Atlanta, the old excitement of the war flared. This time with relief. The war was almost over, and we saw our victory looming over the horizon. The New Year would bring the restoration of the Union. Then, as we had all hoped, Sherman marched into Atlanta, burning it, blazing a trail. The president must have been mighty grateful for this victory. He must have been praying for it fervently day in and day out more than any of us, for his prayers were answered. He was reelected by a wide margin.

Each day, I combed through the editorials and columns, searching for news on the St. Albans' raiders. Searching for his name. I had to be sure he was dead. I had to be sure he was the one left dead in the creek. But the papers were quiet on it, too filled with election news and the whispers of victory.

Letters arrived from Brett expressing how tired he was from marching in the rain. He desired to fight. And he missed me more than he had ever missed a single human being in his life. I would reply to him with short letters, telling him what was going on in St. Albans and informing him about the weather and the colds that passed between Katie and me. In each letter, he asked about my health, and I wondered if he hoped we had made a child. But when my menses arrived at the start of December, I knew it was not to be. I was relieved and made no mention of it to Brett. Let him continue hoping to carry him through to the end.

Katie and I went to the Mathis house every Sunday evening for supper, and they invited us over for Christmas. Christmas felt melancholy to me for the first time in my life. Just any other day. I tried to be lighthearted and joyous for Katie's sake, but I just wanted tomorrow to come. Katie was spoiled with gifts from the Mathis and Chisholm families. The money Brett had put in the bank for my use was already dwindling fast on the servants' wages, repairs on the house, and groceries. I had only enough free money to spend on a new porcelain doll for Katie and a new Christmas dress for each of us.

I wore my new, dark-blue, taffeta dress to the Smiths' annual Christmas party. Just like the year before, I sat beside Mrs. Mathis and the other St. Albans' matrons. No one spoke a word to me while I sat there listening to the women's idle gossip and watching the dancers.

My mind wandered, imagining myself last Christmas, dancing in John's arms. I would have given anything to go back and have that Christmas again. I would have done many things differently if I had known I'd never see John again. I would have done anything to have that moment again. Now, I would have accepted John in a heartbeat. But I forced myself out of my reverie. I was bound to another man. I was moving on with my life, and I wanted Christmas to pass so I could move on. Christmas brought too many painful memories. I was relieved to wake up the morning after to sunshine beaming through the frost-covered windows.

A blizzard arrived in mid-January, leaving Katie and I snowed in. I was unable to dig out the barn to reach the horses until Seth came to give me a hand. Mrs. Mathis made a visit to bring us groceries and treats for Katie. I told her it was unnecessary, but she insisted, saying she would have a responsibility to me until her death. Her eyes were full of sorrow when she told me this, and I knew she called on me for John. I thought back to the letter I gave to her when I first arrived, and I still wondered what he had written to her. There was more spoken between those two than I realized. I acquiesced and accepted her help. It was the first time I had seen her smile in a long time. She left, and for the rest of the winter, she religiously visited me when I could not go to her.

One day, Mrs. Mathis arrived with a turkey Seth had shot, potatoes, and news that the last port of the Confederacy had been sealed off. The blockade runners could no longer reach the South, and the Rebels were beginning to crumble under the complete siege. They would have a shortage of food and supplies and would soon surrender. Brett would most likely be coming home soon.

Rumors came in February of a peace conference between Lincoln and Jefferson Davis. We found out a week later that Davis had agreed to send delegates to the conference but insisted on Lincoln's recognition of the South's independence. Lincoln then refused, and the conference never commenced. So, the war raged on.

By April, the snow had melted. Seth came to help clear the apple orchard and vegetable gardens, and he brought a newspaper. Throughout the winter, news reports trickled in from Canada where the St. Albans' raiders were now in custody. I scanned for Ethan's name among the defendants, but he had yet to be mentioned.

"They made mention of a ‘Yankee' who assisted their escape from Camp Douglas in Illinois, but that is all," Seth explained, handing the paper to me. The Montreal court transcripts revealed the arrested men were mostly escaped prisoners of war.

The trial had concluded, the eighty-eight thousand dollars they robbed was returned to the banks, and they were to be released by special train to the Confederacy.

"They refused the extradition," Seth explained, "insisting Canada remain neutral in our conflict. And that is not all the money … just what Montreal law enforcement was able to recover."

"You think Ethan is the Yankee they mentioned?"

"Must be. Why they haven't mentioned his name or any others' involvement, other than their Canadian contacts, I don't know. Their commander, Bennett Young, is claiming they were given official command to rob the banks and burn and surround the town in retaliation for atrocities committed in the Shenandoah Valley by our troops."

I shook my head at this news. Seth grumbled, frustrated they were not being charged for robbery and arson, that all of the money was not returned, and they would not be extradited to face judgment in a federal court. I did not have peace in the outcome, either, but for obviously different reasons.