Medicine Bundle

by Patrick E. Andrews

  In reality, Grant had not properly prepared Rebecca for her new life in the society of regimental ladies. This wasn’t because of negligence or forgetfulness on his part. He simply was not familiar with that feminine grouping and what was expected of its members. He knew nothing of their protocol and rules of behavior. And the young officer had absolutely no idea of their feelings of inferiority that were behind all this pretentiousness.

  Grant, with a half dozen years as an enlisted man, had not been an army officer very long. His short service in the upper cadre had consisted of long spells of being out in the field on active service. The few garrison social events he attended within the regiment had been no more than brief appearances. He scarcely knew any of the officers’ wives except for quick introductions, short conversations, and perhaps a dance or two at a military ball. He did not know these women considered their husband’s ranks and family origins as the criterion that determined their pecking order.

  Grant’s own background in an extended coal-mining clan had created a sense that there were no people inherently superior to others. He did not consider an established aristocracy as being part of the society in which he lived. As an American, the young officer perceived his native land as a meritocracy offering great opportunities for ambitious men willing to work hard. Thus, he did not feel he was superior to enlisted men because he had greater privileges and authority than they. His status in the Army came about because he had taken a great deal of extra effort to obtain a commission. It was unthinkable to Grant Hollings that ancestry or wealth in people’s backgrounds were evidence of their true worth.

  Grant had only six years of schooling, but grew up being a voracious, unrepentant reader. This was something he learned from his Welsh grandfather on his mother’s side of the family. Grant was not particularly fond of novels, preferring to study books on almost any academic subject, particularly history and geography. He had even delved into mathematics to increase his skill in that science from simple ciphering to understanding and using fractions and decimals.

  This habitual and constant reading had enabled him to pass the Army’s test to become a commissioned officer. He assumed that most people were satisfied with their stations in life, and had no desire for extra wealth or position. It made sense to him that they could not only be happy living simpler lives, but also be useful citizens. The great majority of humanity simply had no special ambitions or didn’t consider it worth the effort to aspire to higher responsibility or authority.

  Grant knew that Rebecca might be lacking in certain refinements because of her bucolic background. But she was also very intelligent and adaptable. He gave no thought to the fact that the McCrackens and their peers were concerned only with materialistic necessities for survival and food. They did not deal with anything beyond that to any serious extent. Even religion was approached on a fundamental, basic level to be used to deal with the ambiguous and mysterious things in life that produced either good or bad fortune.

  The women in the regiment with whom Rebecca would socialize were from a quasi-middle class for the most part. Several had known poverty in their lives albeit the genteel sort brought about by fathers with struggling businesses or who had died leaving nothing behind for their families. The daughters of these unlucky men, however, had some exposure to the more cultural aspects of life such as piano lessons, instructions on how to behave as young ladies, and other social arts.

  Their husbands had received direct appointments as officers in the Army. Some gained this privilege through well-placed relatives or were members of families owed favors by influential people. Only two other officers in the regiment, like Grant Hollings, had come up through the ranks. None were graduates of the United States Military Academy at West Point.

  The regimental ladies knew their counterparts in white regiments looked down on them. They chaffed under this conspicuous censure with a smoldering resentment. However, they were unable to do no more about the social chastisement than they could about having husbands who were second-rate on the army officer list. There was also the matter of the bleak frontier forts to which they were posted. But the ladies themselves were determined to make their social environment as refined and cultured as the white regiments posted at prestigious eastern garrisons.

  Rebecca was thrilled when not long after her arrival at Fort Gibson, she received an invitation to her first tea with the other officers’ ladies of Grant’s squadron. She assumed they would be much like the women in the Boomer camp. Surely, the young woman thought, with the danger their husbands faced and the long separations demanded by military duty, they bolstered each other through all the difficult and lonely times. Rebecca couldn’t wait to meet her new friends-to-be. Now that she was a married lady she could join their quilting bees as an equal.

  She prepared herself for the tea by donning her best dress and high-button shoes, pinning on the brooch from her mother, and putting a ribbon in her hair. She walked from her own quarters on officer’s row up to the relatively grander residence of Mrs. Major Reynolds, the hostess of the affair.

  When she arrived at the Reynolds’ home, a black maid admitted her. Rebecca was taken to the parlor where the other ladies had already gathered. She quickly noticed the contrast in their dress and hers. They were attired in the prettiest, fanciest garments she had ever seen. Suddenly the calico she wore seemed plain and cheap. Elizabeth Glover, the wife of the lieutenant who had been with Grant on the Grasslands, stepped forward to greet her.

  “Hello, Rebecca,” Elizabeth said with an insincere smile. She seemed secretly pleased about something as she gave Rebecca’s appearance a quick, critical inspection. Elizabeth had been appointed to introduce Rebecca into the society of the officers’ wives. She was a short, plump young woman with a thick waist who was not particularly attractive. Rebecca sensed from the first time they met that Elizabeth did not like her for some reason. She was hurt by this attitude, but thought Elizabeth a perfect match for Bernie Glover whom she considered a pompous tenderfoot. When Grant told her that the lieutenant had been taken off active field service and put to work at a desk on the regimental staff, she had not been surprised.

  The first order of business was for Mrs. Lieutenant Glover to introduce Rebecca to the wife of their husbands’ troop commander. “Mrs. Captain Simpson,” Elizabeth said. “I have the honor of presenting Mrs. Lieutenant Hollings.”

  Rebecca thought it silly and pretentious to use their husbands’ ranks. What difference did it make? She fought a giggle down to an amused smile as she greeted the older lady with a polite, “How do you do, ma’am?”

  Mrs. Captain Simpson, well into middle age, frowned at the attractive young girl standing in front of her. “What, my child,” she asked, “do you find comical?”

  “Being called Mrs. Lieutenant, I reckon,” Rebecca said.

  “I see.”

  Rebecca’s cheerfulness took a dive at the iciness in the other woman’s tone of voice. She felt she must have done something wrong, though she wasn’t quite sure what it might have been.

  Mrs. Captain Simpson said, “We have our customs and traditions in the Army. One of which is using one’s husband’s rank in regimental society. It determines your standing as much as his.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rebecca said, now sure she was being chastised. “I didn’t mean to give no offense.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Simpson remarked. “Well, come with me. It’s time for your official introduction to your husband’s squadron commander’s wife.” She gave a look of warning that the younger woman did not miss. “Mrs. Major Reynolds is second only to the Mrs. Colonel.”

  Rebecca experienced a sudden feeling of dread. She didn’t know what the names of all the ranks meant. Who, she wondered, outranked whom among the lieutenants and majors and the like? She was marched through the parlor to a very stout, gray-haired woman who sported a silky moustache on her upper lip.

  “Mrs. Major Reynolds, I have the honor of presenting Mrs. Lieutenant Hollings,” Mrs. Ca
ptain Simpson said. “Her husband is a subaltern in my husband’s troop. They are only recently married.”

  The Mrs. Major regarded Rebecca studiously before speaking. “How d’you do?”

  “Most pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  The Mrs. Major continued to gaze at the girl before her. Then her eyes moved up to the ribbon in her hair, and down to her shoes. She was silent for a moment. “What is your husband’s name?”

  “Grant, ma’am. Grant Hollings.”

  “I see. It was a pleasure to have met you.”

  With this expressed dismissal, Mrs. Captain Simpson took Rebecca by the arm and quickly ushered her over to a chair along the side of the room. She was seated between Mrs. Lieutenant Glover and another subaltern’s wife.

  The party as a whole consisted of one Mrs. Major, four Mrs. Captains, and six Mrs. Lieutenants. These eleven women made up a squadron tea. If their husbands’ unit had been at full strength there would have been total of fourteen guests and the hostess. But their garrison, like others in the regular United States Army, operated understrength and over extended.

  The regiment, commanded by a colonel, consisted of three squadrons of four troops each. When the Mrs. Colonel — wife of Colonel Byrd — held regimental teas there would be over forty guests that included the wives of the adjutant and the quartermaster. These grander affairs were held in the post hall as were the regimental balls.

  The ladies at the squadron tea were seated in the room according to rank, with Mrs. Major Reynolds in the center and everyone flowing down from her to the Mrs. Lieutenants on the far side of the room. But they were close enough that the Mrs. Major could speak to anyone she pleased without having to raise her voice.

  Three wives of black soldiers served the tea and refreshments. One worked full time as the Mrs. Major’s maid while the others came in to help out and earn extra money. They saw to it that all the ladies were served in order of rank and seniority. That meant Rebecca and Elizabeth were among the last to receive their cups of tea and saucers of cookies.

  Rebecca paid no attention to how the other guests handled the awkward chore of managing their servings. She spread her legs and sat the cookies down on the expanse provided by her skirt. After turning down offers of sugar and lemon, she tasted tea for the first time. She thought it interesting and quickly slurped down half the cup in testing it. Satisfied with the beverage, she shoved a whole cookie in her mouth. The Mrs. Major, nibbling daintily, directed her first comment in the direction of the newest member of their squadron tea. “Mrs. Lieutenant Hollings, I suppose your husband had a tedious time during his duties out there on the prairie.”

  Rebecca was pleased to be included in the conversation. She took a bite of cookie and laughed. “My Lord, yes! He said his biggest problem was having to chase my pa from one end of the Medicine Bundle Grasslands to the other.”

  The Mrs. Major stared at the young woman with narrowed eyes. “He chased,” she said, “your pa?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rebecca replied. “My pa was a Boomer. We went down there first after we come over from Missouri and them ol’ cowboys down there run us off. But Pa wanted to farm on the Grasslands, and he wasn’t gonna let no big ol’ rancher stop him. Anyhow, he ended up with a fine piece of prime land. Me and Grant got a chance to go out and —”

  “I see,” the Mrs. Major interrupted. She turned away to one of the Mrs. Captains to make an inquiry regarding the annual mid-summer regimental ball.

  Nobody spoke to Rebecca after that. She had some more tea and another saucer of cookies feeling that the others did not particularly care to be her friends. When Rebecca glanced at one of the other guests, the lady always quickly looked away.

  Later, when the party ended, Rebecca went up to Mrs. Major Reynolds and thanked her for a good time saying, “You be sure and come by to see us, you hear?” The Mrs. Major merely smiled in a most cheerless manner. Rebecca left the tea, feeling hurt and rejected. After the warm sorority in the Boomer camp, the company of army wives seemed a most lonely, dreary place.

  When Grant came home that night, he inquired as to how she liked meeting the other ladies. Rebecca didn’t wish to upset him, and she made no more than a remark about enjoying herself, then quickly changed the subject.

  ~*~

  Two days after the squadron tea party, Grant was ordered to report to the squadron commander’s office. This was not customary since any business with a subaltern was generally handled through his troop commander. He wondered about the unusual summons as he strapped on his saber belt. He went directly to squadron headquarters and presented himself to the adjutant. Moments later he was admitted into Major Reynold’s office.

  “Ah, yes, Mr. Hollings,” the major said with a smile. He was an elderly man, past his physical prime, with a large white moustache. “This is quite informal. As a matter of fact, it is completely off the record and can be considered man-to-man. Please pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable.” Grant, puzzled by this friendly informality, did as he was told. “Let’s see,” the major said. “How shall I begin?” He was thoughtful for a few moments, then said, “I would like for you to do me a big favor.”

  “Certainly, sir. If it is within my power.”

  “Actually it’s a favor for yourself as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your wife was a guest at the squadron tea the other day. I’m afraid, to be quite blunt, that she didn’t make a very good impression on the other ladies.”

  “Sir?”

  “This could have quite an effect on your career, old man,” the major said. “I am only speaking to you for your own benefit. I hope you understand that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I think it would be a very good idea to provide your wife with some coaching in the social graces,” the major said. “Etiquette, grammar, ways of expressing herself, proper responses, and all that. I’m speaking, of course, of the type of conduct that is acceptable and ladylike. That would include the proper attire as well.”

  Now Grant realized that the major’s wife had complained to her husband about Rebecca. Obviously the girl’s rustic and plain outspokenness and manners were not looked on with approval by the other ladies. He was sure the fact that she was young and pretty also did not set very well with the dowdy matrons or the less attractive lieutenant’s wives like Elizabeth Glover.

  Grant stood up, resenting the insulting attitude toward the young wife he loved. He was angry with all of them — officers and wives — thinking how they really didn’t know Rebecca at all. He clenched his teeth, but attitudes developed over seven years as a professional soldier clamped down on any emotional display. “I shall see to it, sir.”

  “Fine, Mr. Hollings,” the major said. “Your wife is a very attractive young lady.”

  When Grant left headquarters he did not return to his troop. He went straight to his quarters as he grew angrier at the unexpected snobbishness of the regimental women. Now he knew why Rebecca had been quiet the evening following the tea.

  When he reached home, he went through the front door and found her sitting in the parlor, shelling peas for the evening meal. She looked up at his entrance, surprised. “You’re home early, sweetheart.”

  “Yes,” Grant answered. “We finished with the stable inspection, so I decided to call it a day.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” he replied putting his cap on the hat rack and hanging the saber belt on a wall peg. He walked over and sat down in the chair next to her. After watching her work for a few moments, he spoke. “Are you happy here, Rebecca?”

  “I’m happy no matter where I am with you.”

  “It’s real important to me that you’re happy. I guess it’s the most important thing in the world to me.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “You’re special. Very, very very special.”

  “You’re special to me too, Grant.”

  “Rebecca, there’s nobody in this world I love mo
re than you.”

  Rebecca stopped shelling the peas. “What’s wrong, Grant?”

  “Were the ladies mean to you at that tea?”

  She was quiet for a moment before responding. “Well…they wasn’t mean exactly. More standoffish than anything. I ain’t used to that.” She paused. “I was kind of peeved at you ’cause you hadn’t warned me about ’em.” Now she frowned at him. “Grant! You shoulda told me they was mean ol’ ladies!”

  “I didn’t know much about them, dearest.”

  “Well, after I got to thinking on it, I was afraid I’d shamed you.”

  He kissed her. “You could never shame me.”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Well, anyway, they don’t like me. I tried to be as nice as I know how to be.”

  “You’re too nice for those old biddies.”

  “I just ain’t their sort, I reckon.”

  “Well, we’ll show them,” Grant said. “It’s just a matter of learning some rules. I’m sure Elizabeth Glover would be happy to help.”

  “I wouldn’t trust that Elizabeth any farther’n I could throw a yoke of oxes.”

  “I thought you two were friends.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “She’s as bad as the rest.”

  “All right,” Grant said. “I have some books on etiquette I used to study for my examination. You and I will read them together. You can learn how to set a table, what to serve at different sorts of functions, and lots of other interesting things.”

  “All right.”

  “You and I’ll learn together and those ladies are going to get their proper comeuppance.” Rebecca said nothing, and Grant sensed her pride and feelings were hurt. He tried to lighten the mood. “Know what else we can do? We can go to the post trader’s store and look at his catalogs. He gets them in from several eastern cities. They have some real nice ladies dresses and coats and gloves and all sorts of things.”

  Now Rebecca was beginning to see things in a new light. “I never bought nothing out of one of them catalogs before. It sounds like fun.”