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Updated: June 12, 2025
He had no Federalist clients; that rift widened and deepened. Federalist Albemarle meant the Churchills and the Carys, their kinsmen, connections, and friends. The gulf seemed fixed. Jacqueline, keeping at home in the house on the Three-Notched Road, saw very few from out her old life. Those who had been her girlhood friends kept aloof.
Another home where there were Sunday-evening gatherings for many years was that of Alice and Phoebe Cary. This house, one of the few residences remaining in a neighborhood otherwise given up to business structures to-day, is numbered 53 on East Twentieth Street. Here the Carys lived when they made their home in this city, coming from their Ohio birthplace to a wider field of activity.
Breakfast, dinner, and supper Ludwell at the head of the table and I at the foot, and a company of ghosts in between " "Ludwell may yet marry." Fairfax Cary shook his head. "No. He'll never marry. If the Carys are obstinate, sir, they are also constant." Major Churchill rose, turned to the bookshelves, and drew forth a volume. "Is he not over that?" he asked harshly. "No, he is not.
She is mightily distressed because she thinks there's a lack of Christmas cheer. I wish, sir, that she might have a merry Christmas." "We'll do our best, Fair. Unity shall make it bright." "The servants, too, I give mine the usual feast at Greenwood, and I'm going down to the quarter for half an hour." "The Carys make good masters. In that respect all here, too, goes on as usual.
"Hairston Breckinridge says that Major Cary's niece is with him at Lauderdale." "Yes. Judith Cary." "That's the beautiful one, isn't it?" "They are all said to be beautiful the three Greenwood Carys. But Yes, that is the beautiful one." He began to hum a song, and as he did so he lifted his wide soft hat and rode bareheaded.
The old room, quiet, grave, book-lined, stored with records of old struggles, lent itself with fitness to the papers nowadays. The Greenwood Carys sat about the wood fire, Judith in an old armchair, Unity on an old embroidered stool, Molly in the corner of a great old sofa. Miss Lucy pushed her chair into the ring of the lamplight and read aloud in her quick, low, vibrant voice.
Yet, for all the dismal outlook, Winter had passed without actual disaster to the Confederate arms and now that Spring had come the plantation home of the Herbert Carys, twenty miles below Richmond, had never had a fairer setting. White-pillared and stately the old Colonial mansion stood on one of the low, emerald hills which roll back lazily from the peaceful James.
Colonel Churchill, in his especial chair, was smoking like a benevolent volcano; at a small table Major Edward was playing Patience. On the broad porch steps below Jacqueline and Unity half sat, half lay, the two Carys. The fireflies were beginning to show, and out of the distance came a plaintive Whip-poor-will Whip-poor-will!
Rands, Miss Dandridge, don't beat Carys!" "La, so warm!" exclaimed Unity. "I have never seen a man love a brother so!" "Ludwell Cary is worthy of any man's love or any woman's either!" "The pair of you ought to be put in the wax-works, and labelled 'The Loving Brothers. When you marry, there'll be no love left for your wife." "Just you try and see."
Home he comes to Albemarle and begins improving Roselands. Cases too, in court, and a queue of waiting clients, and Richmond to return to in November. Granted there's a strange emigration West; but Lewis Rand Lewis Rand's as fixed in Virginia as are the Churchills and the Carys!" He slowly lifted and as slowly moved a queen. "And what other course, from time out of mind, does the disloyal pursue?
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