Queen of the Confederacy: The Innocent Deceits of Lucy Holcombe Pickens

CHAPTER NINE: “The heart hath reason which reason knows nothing of.” Blaise Pascal (1858)

73 1857 I t was April and Wyalusing never looked prettier. Yellow jessamine twined about the tall white pillars and filled the air with a sweet scent. From the swing on the wide verandah the singsong laughter of sister Anna’s children rippled on the breeze. The clopping of horse hooves signaled the town’s only carriage for hire coming up the curving driveway. A shiver of panic may have seized Lucy as she recognized the stocky passenger, an ill-fitting wig covering his bald pate. Regaining her composure, perhaps she tucked a rose in her hair, as was her habit, before smiling a greeting to Francis Wilkinson Pickens, her passport to fame and fortune. Her mother’s reception of the Honorable Mr. Pickens was less cordial. Only Anna Eliza received him with affection, remembering his kind concern for her children during the scarlet fever epidemic at Sweet Springs the previous August. But Lucy’s parents resented this interloper who wished to marry their beloved second daughter CHAPTER NINE 1858 “The heart hath reason which reason knows nothing of.” Blaise Pascal (1623–1662) 74 The heart hath reason and take her away from home. Eugenia especially regretted that her daughter would consider a marriage without love. And the age—yes, the age—how could she bear to have a fifty-one year old man, no matter how famous he was, call her “Mother” when she, herself, was only forty-seven! Lucy may have reminded her parents of Mr. Pickens’s illustrious South Carolina parentage—he was honorable, highly intelligent, a respected lawyer, a United States congressman, and landowner of considerable wealth. Francis, not insensitive to the family’s misgivings , would be quick to present the letter from his friend, President Buchanan, appointing him United States Minister to the highest and most opulent court in Europe. Lucy’s brothers were not impressed, although aware that Mr. Pickens’s influence might aid in securing a government position for Theodore. Nevertheless, Lucy’s determination to marry this man older than her own father won grudging consents from her parents. The former congressman reminded Lucy that time was at a premium. He had orders from the President to leave for the Russian court by mid-May at the latest. The wedding must take place two days hence. Relatives and friends should be notified immediately and multiple arrangements made. The afternoon of 26 April 1858, a steady procession of buggies, wagons, and horses circled the tree-shaded driveway to Wyalusing. Within the house, the glow of many candles shone on polished wood and silver. White roses from the garden, yellow jessamine, and ferns filled the deep windowsills of the three adjoining parlors now crowded with guests. Their chattering hushed as Miss Arletta June, seated at the newly purchased rosewood piano, struck the familiar chords of the wedding march. Outside, barefoot slave children, no doubt happy with the thought of their own promised party, ran to the tall windows for a glimpse of Missy Lucy and the “Colonel.” Lucinda brushed Lucy’s hair into a simple style and crowned the mass of titian waves with blossoms. It is quite probable that Lucy wore Anna Eliza’s wedding dress of heavy white brocaded silk. No doubt her hands trembled as she fastened the tiny buttons of the bodice, for it is inevitable that Lucy would regret going against her beloved 75 1858 parents’ wishes. She may have reconciled her marriage as a personal sacrifice, a means of aiding her father and possibly brother Theodore. Perhaps she realized that marriage for prestige and wealth might be a delusion but, ever the consummate actress, she began the hesitant walk through the three rooms. Dr. Thomas B.Wilson, the Episcopal Rector, stood by the altar fashioned of ferns and smiled encouragement . Francis stood beside him. Dr. Wilson’s voice boomed across the room. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God . . . .” Francis reached for her hand just as Dr. Wilson addressed the family and guests, “If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together . . . ” Heads turned and a noticeable murmur rose. Tension mounted as the endless seconds ticked on. Some would glance discreetly toward the back to see if one might come forth. When no audible objection was heard, the Rector motioned to the ring bearer. Little Charley strutted forward in Philemon’s outgrown velvet trousers and frilly...