When Elizabeth returned, Charlie eagerly swallowed the slightly bitter brew she offered him. Oblivion was welcome for many reasons.
--*--
Rebecca sat, holding Charlie's hand, wishing he would come to and not too happy that he was being kept sedated. Elizabeth entered the tent with a pot of tea in one hand and a small kettle of soup in the other.
"Elizabeth, I really would prefer if we could let Charlie come out of sedation. He seems half dead like this."
"I do understand, dear, but he was in so much pain. Having that much muscle exposed is agony, and the hand is not much better. Also, if we are to get him home, the only way to do it is to sedate him. Heavily."
Rebecca sighed, nodding and wiping away tears at the same time. "When do you think I will be able to take him home?"
"Well, now that his fever has broken, I do not see any reason to delay. General Grant has offered his train car to carry him. That will make it easier. And I think you would be much happier to have him at home than here."
"Of course I would. I hope being home will help him get better quickly, too. Em will be so excited to have him home. It is going to be difficult to make her understand that time with Papa will be limited at first."
"You realize he will have to be unconscious for literally the entire trip? And that Em may be very frightened when her papa is as incapacitated as her mama was?"
"I know, but Charlie is going to get better. Constance never had that chance."
Elizabeth thought for a moment. She had seen serious depression set in after major injuries before, and was concerned that Charlie might be inclined toward it. "Rebecca, there is something else you may have to deal with."
"Yes?"
"It is not uncommon for men who have been very badly injured to become terribly melancholy. They may feel their injuries make them somehow less than they were. I have seen them literally turn their faces to the wall. I pray that Charlie will not go that way, but I wanted to warn you."
"I think, unfortunately, it would be very easy for Charlie to do that, but I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening. I only hope I am enough."
"Then I will see if I can arrange for the train car for tomorrow."
--*--
Tuesday, April 25, 1865
The next morning was hellish. Elizabeth and Samuelson needed to stay with the regiment; there were too many injured men to care for to allow them to leave with Charlie. Whitman, as a civilian volunteer, chose to go with the General and his wife; however, he was in deep mourning over Lincoln’s death and the frightening rumors that were circulating as a result of that terrible act. Duncan, because he was already on injury leave and Jocko, whose duty was to stay with his General, managed the logistical details.
Every thing that could be draped with mourning banners showed black. Every man in the regiment wore a black armband. Even the train car had black bunting draped on its handrails. The entire army had gone into mourning for Lincoln.
Elizabeth had prepared Charlie as well as she could. He was carefully strapped to his cot, and heavily sedated. The men of the regiment had taken turns hand carrying his stretcher to keep from jostling the injured man.
The Doctor had less success in preparing Rebecca. She was shaken at how pale Charlie was in the light of day, and how thin he had become in the days since his injury. His good hand, once wiry and strong, lay on the gray blanket looking almost skeletal and nearly transparent.
"Elizabeth, do you think it is safe to take him home? I am not sure he is strong enough; maybe we should wait another day or so."
Elizabeth looked at Charlie critically, and then turned to Rebecca. "I honestly think he will be better off in a real bed, in a proper room and with good food, and tender care than he will here in a tent with a dirt floor, in an army camp that is rapidly becoming a refugee center. Take him home, Rebecca. He needs to be there and so do you."
Rebecca nodded, and then embraced her friend. "Thank you for everything. I know he would not be alive now if it were not for you. Promise me you will come as soon as you can."
"Absolutely –– the very first minute I can get away from here, I will. And I believe you and I have a wedding to plan. I am just sorry Richard could not be here to see you off."
"Give him my love and thank him as well." With a deep sigh she turned and allowed Jocko to help her aboard the train.
Duncan was sitting at the far end of the car, beside the bed they had set up for Charlie, already positioned to watch over the heavily drugged man. The sling he wore to cradle his injured arm made things awkward, but he had braced himself to keep Charlie stable while the train jerked as it started. Whitman was sitting at the table in the middle of the car, with a pencil in hand and a notebook open before him, mumbling "my captain, my captain" to himself.
Jocko settled Rebecca in a soft chair, kneeling in front of it. "Miss Rebecca, I want to say that I know things are not going to be easy with getting Gen’l Charlie back up on his feet, but I promise you, I will do whatever may be required to see to it."
"Thank you, Jocko. I know I can count on you. Charlie and I need our friends close to us right now."
"I wired ahead to Major Byrnes to have transport waiting for us when we get in. And I warned him of how badly injured the General is. He has a team of men who have volunteered to carry him home, and a carriage will be waiting for you. I think carrying Charlie will be less stressful for him than bouncing around in the back of a wagon."
Rebecca glanced at Charlie, who was indeed sleeping soundly. "He inspires great loyalty."
"He does indeed. There are many men in this and his previous regiments who are alive because of what he does. He takes care of his men first, and they will take care of him."
Rebecca stood, patting Jocko's shoulder as she did. Taking a moment to get the movement of the train, she walked to Charlie and took Duncan's place at her husband's side. She took his good hand and leaned over, placing a kiss on his forehead. "We will be home soon, darling."
A particularly hard lurch tossed the car a bit to the side, and Charlie groaned in pain, even through the laudanum-induced stupor.
Rebecca stood and covered his chest gently with her own body, to give him a feeling of being protected. "It is all right, my love, you are going to be fine." She placed a kiss on his cheek, allowing her lips to linger for a moment.
The trip continued, a hell for Rebecca, with each hard lurch or stop bringing a groan of pain from Charlie. Yet the drugs kept him too sedated to talk, or to even acknowledge her presence. By the time they reached Culpeper, six hours later, Rebecca was emotionally and physically exhausted. Shortly before they arrived, Whitman gave Charlie another dose of laudanum to ease the painful transition from the train to Redmond Stables and his own bed.
--*--
Charlie’s men had carried his litter home, in a relay over the course of the three miles from the station to the house. They knew the slow, steady pace of walking would be less traumatic for him that being moved in a wagon. Arriving at the house, Rebecca allowed the men in the last relay to carry Charlie up the stairs to their room.