City of God

by Swerling, Beverly

  The men promised that he could and being Irish, seemed undisturbed by the prospect of a fight. Members of the Dead Rabbits gang, he supposed, or possibly the Plug Uglies. Had they not been immigrants, they would probably have been members of one of the nativist America for-Americans gangs that opposed them, the Bowery Boys or the like. It seemed as if every laborer in the city belonged to one or another. As recently as last Fourth of July the old Twenty-seventh—known as the Seventh Regiment now that the militia had been reorganized—were required to come in and keep the peace. And, Nick recalled, even for trained soldiers it was a close run thing. There was nothing inexpert or artless about the nature of the violence practiced by New York’s street warriors. At the moment Nick thought that just as well.

  Mei Lin’s neighborhood was not quite as rural as it had been. Archbishop Hughes was talking about erecting a new St. Patrick’s Cathedral a few blocks uptown on Fifty-first Street, and lately the mansions that had begun to be erected on Fifth Avenue’s southern end were edging north. But there were still more trees than people on the side streets, and little traffic anywhere nearby. Almost five in the afternoon now, the late autumn daylight all but gone.

  Nick thought there might be a flicker of light behind the curtains of the house where six years previously he’d taken tea with an innocent sixteen-year-old Mei Lin and she’d assured him she was completely content with her betrothal to Kurt Chambers. The house next door, presumably the one she now shared with her husband, was entirely dark.

  He stood for a moment, looking around, unsure of what to do next. The porter called Liam, biggest of the lot, with a nose that had obviously been broken more than once and a couple of missing teeth, took charge. “Seems it might be a fair and fine notion for one of us to go round the back, guv’nor and keep an eye out. One more to remain out front here. Two maybe. I take it you’re not thinking those next door neighbors will be friendly sorts of folk.”

  “Not in the least friendly. Possibly very dangerous.”

  “Sure we’re well used to that, guv. Hit first, talk later, and stick together if you mean to stay alive. Just one question, if you don’t mind. What is it we’re after?”

  “Not what, who. We’re going to rescue a woman. Chinese, and she can’t walk very well. We’ll have to carry her.”

  “You, sir, and the four of us?” Liam asked. “For one little woman?”

  “Yes. But she may be guarded.”

  The Irishman smiled. “That’s better then. Makes it more interesting.” He pointed to one of the others. “You go around the back. You two stay out here in the front. I’ll go with Dr. Turner inside.” Then, to Nick, “Anything t’ain’t the way you think it should be, guv, just give me some sort o’ signal and I’ll set up an almighty roar. The rest will be after coming in smart as you like when they hear it.”

  Nick knew they were as likely to terrify Mei-hua as rescue her. He insisted they make a polite first approach. He knocked, but there was no reply. A bell hung beside the door, but when he reached for it, Liam restrained his hand. “T’ain’t the best notion to set up a ruckus, guv. If there’s no one after comin’ to the door, better we get in quiet like.” The Irishman meanwhile had done something to the nearest window, it was wide open before he finished speaking. “I’ll go first, shall I?” He didn’t wait for an answer but put one leg over the sill and disappeared. Nick went in after him.

  There were no lights, but the curtains had not been drawn and the faint gray of dusk still illuminated what Nick recognized as Mei-hua’s parlor.

  “Holy Mary and all the saints,” Liam murmured. “What’s this then? One of them opium dens?”

  The dock workers of course knew all about the opium dens said to be found in China Village. A good deal more than he did, Nick supposed. “No, nothing like that. Do you see anyone?”

  Liam shook his head. “Not a soul. Wait here, I’ll explore a bit.”

  “No, I’m coming with you.”

  “Fair enough, but if there’s any trouble, leave it to me.” The Irishman raised his fist, and brass knuckles gleamed in the last rays of daylight. Nick was not surprised. There was said to be a woman called Hell-Cat Maggie who fought with one of the Irish gangs. She’d had her teeth filed to points the better to tear apart their enemies.

  On their first pass through the downstairs rooms they found nothing. “I’ll be having a look upstairs,” Liam said. This time Nick allowed him to go on his own. He could not imagine that Mei-hua would climb those stairs if she could avoid it.

  The light Nick had first spied from outside appeared to come from a small room at the other side of the hall where there was a red-draped altar with candles alight and smoking sticks of incense. He went back in there, looked around, and was just leaving again when he heard something. Not a sneeze exactly, but the muffled beginnings of one. Nick leaned down and lifted a corner of the floor-length red altar cloth. Mei-hua was huddled as far back as possible, crouching against the wall and hugging to her a bulging canvas satchel that looked as if it had seen better days.

  “Every too bad man leave,” Mei-hua told her daughter when she sat beside Mei Lin’s bed, holding her hand and reporting the events of earlier in the day. “Every one go. Even Both Way Eyes.” Mei-hua had always known that the man her son-in-law claimed was there for first tai-tai’s protection was there to spy on her. She had spent many fruitless and frustrating hours trying to think of something that might help her daughter in spite of that. Now, in some way that she could only attribute to the intercession of all those gods whose blessings she had implored for so many years, a miracle seemed to have happened. They were no longer in the houses of the Lord Kurt but here in this place that belonged to very ugly this-place ladies in very ugly black clothes, who, despite their appearance, were obviously prepared to befriend them. At least for the present.

  “All go,” Mei-hua said again. “Leave me alone. I know they follow you, so I light joss sticks, ask all gods protect you this time, even though they do terrible bad job of it so far.” She reached out and touched the bandages on her daughter’s arm. They felt hard to the touch and she pulled her hand back in surprise. “Rock bandages? Like rock streets? Why they do this?”

  “New thing for broken bones,” Mei Lin explained just as Mother Manon had explained to her. “If arm not move, bones heal together faster. Bandages are stiffened with plaster, not rocks.”

  Mei-hua nodded. “Very ugly black clothes, but smart inside their heads. I am grateful that they do the best thing for my little bud. Tell them I am glad they help her when her Mamee can not.” Two large tears formed in Mei-hua’s lovely eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Nothing I can do, mei-mei. Not before. Not now. Only ask really hard. Burn every joss stick in whole house. Promise everything. Then I hear carriage come. Look out window, see yang gwei zih. Take your baba’s death gift for you,” she pointed to the canvas satchel now sitting beside Mei Lin’s bed. “Hide. Didn’t see red-hair yi until he see me.”

  Mei Lin waited until her mother regained her composure, then spoke to Manon. “Mr. Chambers and his men left her and came after me. I’d run out and taken the small trap. It was the first time I ever—” She broke off without saying that this time she had not simply borne the beating in silence, but made plans. “I had hitched the trap earlier, so I was able to get away quickly. I intended to go and get some of the other men, the Chinese men who are still our friends, and go back for my mother, but when I realized how badly I was hurt, I couldn’t think of anything to do but come here.”

  “And here you will stay, both of you,” Manon said, “at least until you are well. Then we shall see.”

  “My hus—” Mei Lin broke off. It disgusted her to refer to such a cruel and deceitful man as her husband. “Mr. Chambers won’t give up, Reverend Mother. He is very powerful and there are any number of men who do what he says. Not just Chinese men. The police are always on his side.”

  “Then we must move you,” Nick said at once. These days the coppers were divided into two
forces, separated by a bitter rivalry reflecting the political and social strata above and below them. The Municipals were loyal to the city’s mayor, as usual a Tammany Hall Democrat, while a newer force called Metropolitans were creatures of the recently created, reform-minded Republican party, which had gained control of the state. The two sets of police fought each other as frequently as they fought the criminal gangs. Indeed, the gangs sometimes joined the battle on behalf of one or the other of the forces. Nick was alarmed at the thought of St. Vincent’s as a pawn between them. “We must not endanger the Sisters and the hospital, much less the patients.”

  “Do not trouble yourself, Cousin Nicholas.” Manon went to the window and pulled aside the curtain. “We have warriors as well. Come and see.”

  Nick looked out into the gaslit street. St. Vincent’s Catholic Hospital was ringed by men. All wore trousers with the identifying red stripe of the Dead Rabbits. The Irish were protecting their own.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “HOW LONG HAVE you known?” Carolina demanded of her son.

  “Years I suppose. I don’t really recall. But it’s become incredibly more dangerous, Maman.”

  Her other children called her “Mama.” For Zachary she had become “Maman,” and he pronounced it in the French manner, with the accent on the second syllable. Princeton’s airs and graces had rubbed off on her firstborn. Zac was also wonderfully handsome, with Samuel’s height and dark coloring, but there was nothing of unseemly vanity about him. Indeed, Zac had a certain sweetness in his nature that delighted her. There was nothing of Samuel in that, nor of her, if the truth were told.

  Carolina had quite looked forward to this shared supper by the library fire, just the two of them, supposedly to talk business. Really an opportunity to be alone with her darling boy. Then, before they’d finished the soup, Zachary had admitted that he knew about her abolitionist activities. “Helping runaway slaves was always risky,” she said. “If you’ve known for so long, why are you finding objections now?”

  “Because the Supreme Court has ruled that—”

  “That does not convince me, Zachary. I will not believe that a Negro, simply by being such, cannot demand a hearing in a United States court or that slaves in a free state are still slaves. I will not. Never. Never. Never.”

  “But the court has handed down its decision. Dred Scott was returned to his owner.”

  “May Almighty God help him. And if he comes my way looking for assistance, you may be sure Mr. Scott will get it.”

  “Maman, the Negroes are not like us. They must be looked after.”

  “Zachary, where are you getting these ideas?”

  “It doesn’t matter where. What matters is that you are putting yourself—and, I might say, Devrey’s—at great risk. The South will test the decision, you know. They are already traveling with their slaves into free states. Maybe even New York.”

  “Princeton was a bad influence,” she sighed. “All those young southern gentlemen with their charming manners and honeyed accents…” All at once the true reason for this conversation dawned on her. “Mr. Royal Lee,” she said. “Your school friend from Virginia who is to visit next month. He wants to bring a slave with him, is that it?”

  “He hasn’t said, but I wouldn’t be surprised. And he isn’t really coming to see me. I’m just the excuse. It’s Ceci who is the attraction.”

  “I know,” Carolina said. “And so does she. I believe she returns Mr. Lee’s affection, Zac.”

  “They’ve only met twice, Maman. But he’s a fine man, I promise you. Ceci could do a lot worse.”

  “He’s a slaveholder. How can Ceci—”

  “Ceci doesn’t think about things the way you do, Maman. She likes pretty frocks and music and—”

  “…is an empty-headed beauty. I know that as well. I blame myself. I should have insisted she be formally schooled.”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference probably. People are as they are, Maman. And Royal is enchanted with her. He has asked me to ask, and I promised I would. Will you stand in their way?”

  Carolina twirled the stem of her wine glass for long seconds before she answered. “Not if it’s really what Ceci wants,” she said finally. “And he must ask Nicholas as well as me. You tell him that.”

  “Ah, I hear my name. What are you two saying about me?” Nick leaned over to kiss her cheek and Carolina felt the December cold. “You are chilled, darling. Sit here by the fire and take some wine. I wasn’t expecting you until later. Have you eaten?”

  “Yes. I dined with the Kleins. Bella sets a glorious table, though I must say that pie looks delicious.”

  Nick leaned forward to help himself to a taste of the venison pie in the middle of the table. Carolina glanced over the top of his bent head and found her son staring at her. There was something in his eyes…Dear God, Bella Klein. Zachary knew about Bella’s involvement with the underground railroad as well as her own. She must speak more to him and more frankly. But not now. “We were talking about Ceci,” she said, pleased to hear how normal her voice sounded. “She is being wooed, and Zac thinks there is to be a formal request for her hand.”

  “Really? I’d no idea. Who is her suitor and why haven’t I met him?”

  “You have, sir.” Zachary poured wine for his stepfather. “My friend from Princeton. Royal Lee.”

  “The Virginian,” Nick said. “And has he only just now decided that he’s enamored of our Ceci?”

  “I believe they have been corresponding,” Carolina said.

  “And you knew?” There was a trace of disapproval in his tone. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “I didn’t believe it was serious, Nick. Do you have an objection?” She was half hoping he did, hoping it would be Nick who would send Royal Lee packing and all Ceci’s wrath and disappointment would be directed at her stepfather, not her mother. You are a coward, Carolina Randolf Devrey Turner, she told herself. “Of course, if you are opposed, I’m sure Ceci—”

  “Ceci is as headstrong as her mother. It will take more than my disapproval to put her off whatever she’s decided she wants. And as I recall, Mr. Lee is a perfect gentleman and a man of sufficient means to look after a wife. But he is a Virginian and, unless I misunderstood, the owner of a plantation. His livelihood will keep him in the South.”

  “We were discussing slaveholding,” Zac said, “before you arrived.”

  Carolina shot him a warning look, but Nick didn’t rise to Zac’s bait, if bait it was. “I’m not going to argue the slave versus free question in my own library with my own family. There’s enough of that outside these walls, God knows. But that is, in fact, precisely my point.” He got up, taking his glass of wine and moving closer to the fire. “If Ceci is far away in Virginia, how can we, her family who truly care for her, be sure she is properly looked after, properly treated? Particularly if there’s a war, as I fear there well may be.”

  “Royal’s a gentleman, sir. I’ve known him for some years now and I can promise he’s always conducted himself entirely honorably.”

  “Yes, well, the way a man behaves with other men may not be an indication of how he behaves with women.”

  Carolina had seen that expression on her husband’s face only a few times before. “Nick, what is it? You have something on your mind. Do you want to tell me? Zac, would you excuse us?”

  “No, I’d like Zachary to stay. I do have something to say. I’m going to ask a favor of Devrey’s, so it concerns him as well as you, my dear. Though in another sense, you most of all.” He turned to his stepson. “And I must speak of your natural father, Zac, though it’s not a subject that gives any of us pleasure.”

  Zac’s expression darkened. “Has he then reached out from the grave to torment my mother further?”

  “Not exactly,” Nick said. He turned to Carolina. “This is about Mei-hua, my dearest. And her daughter.” Then, to Zac, “Do you know who they are?”

  “I do,” Zac said. “Most of the story, if not all the deta
ils.”

  Carolina was startled but realized she shouldn’t be. Zac was twenty-four, a man, and a man of business at that. He traveled in circles that had always been closed to her and always would be. That he should have heard all or most of the family secrets was hardly a surprise, if for no other reason than that Gordon James was still their attorney. “What about them, Nick?” she asked.

  “I need to bring them here.”

  “Here, to Sunshine Hill?”

  “Yes. They are in great peril, my dear. Mei Lin especially, but Mei-hua as well. This is the only place they will be safe, and that only for a short time. I am hoping that a Devrey ship can pick them up and take them down the coast to Pennsylvania. We’ve arranged safe haven for them there with a community of Manon’s Sisters, somewhere near a town called Gettysburg. It seems far enough.”

  “I don’t understand. In peril from whom or what?”

  “The woman you’re calling Mei Lin is more commonly known as Linda Chambers, isn’t she?” Zac asked. And when Nick nodded, “Then my guess is that Kurt Chambers, her husband, is the likely villain of the piece. Am I right, sir?”

  “You are.”

  “But I thought he was a successful man of business,” Carolina said. “A great philanthropist.” Clearly, her husband and son knew far more about the man than she did.

  “That’s what he’d like people to think, Maman, but the truth is that Kurt Chambers is behind a good deal of the most criminal activities in the city, and nearly everyone knows it.”

  “But if that’s so, why has he not been arrested?”

  “He is far too great a source of profit for the authorities to arrest him,” Zac said. “Chambers pays bribes to both sets of police and virtually every politician.”

  “And how does this affect his wife and his mother-in-law? I can’t see why, if they are living with a criminal, any good can come from bringing them here.” Carolina was being difficult and she knew it, but to bring Mei-hua and her bastard daughter here, to the sanctuary she and Nick had made for themselves and the children after so many years of suffering…It was too much to ask.