by Jim Cox
“Why did he have a cane? Did he limp?” Esther asked with a concerned tone.
“He didn’t limp, Ma. The cane was only for show.”
Esther took a long look at her daughter and then asked, “Did you talk with your pa, Joan? Did you make yourself known to him?”
Joan’s eyes went to the floor, and then in soft, low tone she said, “He had a fancy woman with him, Ma.” Esther sat in total surprise without making a comment. Then she stood, went to the sink, and started peeling potatoes for supper. When the peeled potatoes were in a pan of water on the stove, Esther returned to her chair at the table.
“Was she pretty?” Joan nodded. “Was she beautiful?”
“She was gorgeous, Ma. She was tall and slender with red hair and wore the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen.”
“I suppose she was young?” Esther asked. Joan didn’t answer—there was no need too. Supper was eaten without any further conversation about him.
The holidays passed and the new year of 1860 started with a chill to the air. It also started with a new president. Abraham Lincoln was a young self-taught lawyer from Illinois who many thought was a bit radical. He was an abolitionist who believed all people were equal, regardless of their race or color, and deserved to have equal God given rights. He believed the country should eliminate slavery and hoped that under his administration, he would see it accomplished. However, most southerners emphatically disagreed with him, fearing if slavery was abolished the plantations of the south would be bankrupted; especially cotton and sugar farming which relied on a great amount of slave labor.
As the days went by, Esther continued to ponder about John, wondering if he was still in New Orleans and if he’d show up. Joan had thoughts about her father, too. She was hoping he’d come back to the café—she’d be prepared for him this time. But John didn’t cross their paths.
»»•««
John and Molly stayed busy at the tables in the downtown saloons growing their funds built on a recent run of favorable cards. Their combined stake-money now exceeded seven thousand dollars.
On a late afternoon, they entered a downtown New Orleans saloon they’d rarely visited and watched a table of four men playing at a side table. The men looked respectable and were playing for decent stakes, so John and Molly moved toward them. Molly took the lead. “Mind if we join you?” she asked. The men eyed the beautiful woman, smiled, and then waved them in. Drinks were offered which John accepted but Molly refused, and then introductions were made. The men lived locally and were all involved with sugar production.
Glasses were kept filled as the cards were dealt. Molly was doing well, but John was behind. An hour or so later, John had won a big pot and was pulling in his earnings when a man to his right said, “I have a woman working for me at my sugar plant with your last name, John. Says she’s from Virginia.” John stiffened, eyed Molly, and then continued pulling in his money. “Where are you from John?” the man asked, “wouldn’t happen to be from Virginia, would ya’? She might be some of your kinfolks.”
“I was born there, but I’ve been gone for several years,” John answered. “I may have a few old relatives still living. Is the woman old? What’s her first name?”
“She’s not old,” the man said. “I’d say she’s in her thirties…has two teenage children. Her name is Esther Taylor.”
John could hardly pick up the cards being dealt to him, but somehow he managed, even though his mind wasn’t on it—neither was Molly’s.
Later, as the game was breaking up, John asked the man who employed Esther, “Do you know the address of the woman you thought might be a relative of mine? Thought I might visit her. Who knows, she may be my kin.”
“She lives by the docks in a boarding house on LaSalle Street,” he answered.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Esther’s heart skipped a beat when she opened the door and saw John standing in her doorway. He was dressed as Joan had described him. Suit, white shirt, tie, and holding a tall, beaver hat. Esther inwardly grinned at the hat. He was not carrying the walking cane. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other for a long minute, and then John said, “May I come in, Esther.”
“Of course,” she said, swinging the door wide. After he had entered and turned facing her, Esther had a strong urge to go to him and fall into his arms, but she refrained and simply said, “It’s good to see you, John. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Without waiting for John to answer, Esther turned and headed for the kitchen.
As coffee was being poured, John asked, “Where’s the children?” Esther explained Mark was at sea and that Joan would be home from work shortly. He nodded and took a long swallow.
There was a lot that could have been said between the two, but the words went unspoken. Finally, Esther said, “It appears things are going good for you John. What are you up to these days?”
“I’ve been traveling up and down the river with Mol…” John caught himself before he had gotten Molly’s name fully said. He had planned to keep her identity away from Esther, but it had slipped out.
“It sounds like you’ve been traveling with a woman, John. What did you say her name was?”
“It’s Molly,” he said rather sheepishly. “We’re gambling partners and have been traveling up and down the river for over a year. I’ve learned to be very good at cards, Esther…make a lot of money at it.”
“Does she live with you, John? Are you lovers?”
John nodded and then said, “We plan to get married.” Esther’s stomach tightened in the deathly quiet room. After a long pause, John continued, “I’m sorry our marriage didn’t work out, Esther—we were not meant for each other—we have totally different lifestyles.” There was a long minute of silence.
“You do know we’re still legally married even though we don’t live together, and our marriage would have to be dissolved before you could remarry,” she said with a firm tone.
“That’s why I’m here, Esther,” John said as he pulled out a paper from his coat pocket, “to have you sign this divorce document which will legally end our marriage so that we both can get on with our lives.” John pushed the paper and a pen across the table to her.
“What about the children, John? Don’t you want to have some connection with them?”
“They’re nearly grown, Esther. They’ll soon be going off on their own.” Esther nodded, took a long look at her husband, then signed the paper, and pushed it back to him. As he was putting the paper back into his coat pocket, they heard the door open—it was Joan.
John made his way to his daughter, gave her an appraising look, and half-hearted hug, and then after a few minutes of small talk, he left.
When Joan went to the kitchen, she found her mother sitting at the table with tears streaming down her face. “What did Pa want? Does he want us to become a family again?” she asked enthusiastically.
Esther shook her head and between sobs said, “He had a divorce paper for me to sign. We’re no longer married.”
“Why are you so upset, Ma? You haven’t been around Pa for nearly two years,” Joan asked sympathetically as she reached across the table for her mother’s hand.
Esther took a long look at her daughter and then said, “I know, sweetheart, but I still have feelings for him.”
As time passed, Esther and Joan’s days returned somewhat to normal. They did think of John occasionally but had pretty much removed him from their thoughts. When Mark returned home, he had hurt feelings for his mother due to her hard work and that his father had cast her aside. He didn’t want his father back in their lives because he wanted his mother safe, but he was angry his father was keeping company with another woman and sad that Joan still wanted a family.
»»•««
John life, on the other hand, had gone from bad-to-worse after the divorce paper was recorded and made legal on January 17, 1860. Weeks later, John and Molly still hadn’t married. She often brought up the subject and pressured John for a marriage date to be set, but John
always pushed her request aside.
As John was heading back to his hotel in high spirits after a long and prosperous night of gambling, three men jumped out from a dark alley and attacked him. They beat and kicked him, and then robbed him of every cent he possessed—over six thousand dollars. He was left unconscious in the dark alley, smeared in blood from several lacerations on his face and body; perhaps some broken ribs, and his clothing torn beyond repair. When John regained consciousness several minutes later, he was in agony. He tried to stand, but the pain from his ribs caused him to lay back down. Minutes later he called out to some passersby, but they only shook their heads and kept walking. It was nearly an hour later when a policeman heard his call and came to his assistance. John spent the next three days in the hospital.
Molly took care of John for the next few days as he recuperated, but she still spent the evenings at the saloon tables. Her beauty and attractive figure drew men to her, but she kept her distance. However, after a couple of nights at the saloon without an escort or anyone to share the evening with, a handsome man caught her attention and made a strong impression on her. He was tall, well dressed, outgoing, and flashed a large money roll. After eyeing one another for a time, they introduced themselves and spent the balance of the evening together at the tables.
John was feeling much better after a week of his beating and was ready to hit the tables, but he didn’t have any money. I’ll borrow five hundred from Molly, he thought, should be able to pay her back after a night with the cards.
But he didn’t pay her back—he’d lost it all by midnight. And for the next four days, he’d lost every cent she’d loaned to him—twenty-five hundred dollars in total. She loaned him another five hundred the next night but said she wasn’t feeling well and stayed home. John was able to hold his own during the evening; not a winner but not a loser and went home with the five hundred dollars and a better attitude.
When John walked into his hotel room a little after midnight, Molly was gone. At first, he thought she might have gotten to feeling better and had gone to a saloon for a game or two, but then he found a note on the dresser.
John,
After you left the hotel this evening, I caught a steamer to St. Louis with a man I met at the saloon while you were laid up. He has no family ties and assures me his business ventures make a great deal of money. Marriage may be in the plans. Consider the three thousand dollars I gave you as a gift for the good times we shared together.
Molly
John was heartbroken with Molly’s leaving. He moped around for several days before going back to the gambling tables. After a few days at the tables, his luck changed, and he started winning which took his mind away from Molly. During the next few months he was able to accumulate over five thousand dollars in the saloons of New Orleans, then he caught a northbound steamer to St. Louis the first week of May.
He’d always had a great deal of luck at the steamer’s tables, but during this trip, the cards turned against him. By the time the boat had docked for a couple of days at Cairo, John was down to his last few hundred dollars. Maybe my luck will change in the Cairo saloons, he thought, as he disembarked and headed for the saloons.
John was down to two hundred dollars, and it was his deal. He called for more liquor and then shuffled the new deck of cards extensively. After passing out the cards to the circle of six players, he picked up his five cards—two jacks and three off suits. As the cards circled the table the second time, the men threw down their discards and picked up their hole cards—John’s came from the bottom. The man to John’s left was about to make a bid when the saloon bouncer, who was standing behind John, spoke up, “I’m sorry gentlemen, but I’ll have to stop your game until I take care of this cheat…he’s a bottom dealer—all heads turned toward John.” John tried to talk his way out of the situation by saying the bouncer had made a mistake, but the bouncer wasn’t buying John’s story and soon had his hands cuffed behind his back. John struggled as he was being led off to the lockup, yelling his innocence and declaring he would get even for the bad treatment he was receiving.
Three days after his incarceration, John was brought before the judge. He thought he could talk his way out of his problem, but the judge didn’t accept his plea and sentenced him to seven years of hard work at the Alton State Prison, in Alton, Illinois.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By the fall of 1860, the tension in the country was coming to a head concerning the rights of the states. The southern states wanted to have full authority in governing their own individual state, but the northern states wanted to keep the country as a Union with certain common laws for all states. Of course, the underlying factor for this difference in belief was over slavery. The southern states wanted the authority to keep the Negros under slavery or set them free. Whereas, the northern states wanted slavery of any kind to be abolished.
“Ma,” Joan started off one evening while eating, “As Bill and I were drinking coffee today, he told me trouble was brewing between the north and southern states. He said war was likely. He also said it was rumored around the docks, that if war did break out, the first place the Union soldiers would invade was New Orleans because of our ports. He said, if the South’s exports were shut down the south would lose a great deal of funds they’d need to mount a proper defense against the north.”
“Who’s Bill?” her mother asked with a smile. Joan’s face reddened.
“He works at the docks near the café. He eats with us most days and even comes for afternoon coffee sometimes.” Joan stopped for a second or two and then continued with a wide grin, “I think he likes me, Ma.”
“Do you like him, Sweetheart?”
Joan nodded. “I think so. He’s fun to be around, and I always enjoy it when he comes in the cafe. He’s a good talker.” Joan paused and then asked, “How old were you when you started courting boys, Ma?”
“I was allowed to have boys visit me at my house once a week when I was your age, and after I turned sixteen I could court boys whenever I pleased; that’s when I started courting your pa—a year later we were married.”
Joan thought on the matter for a spell and then asked in a sheepish tone, “Would it be all right if I invited Bill over some time, Ma?”
Esther smiled. “If that’s what you want, but remember, let’s keep the visits to once a week for now.” Joan smiled.
Joan and Esther had finished eating and were washing dishes when Esther commented, “Bill is right about the friction between the states. I hear the same kind of talk at the sugar plant. I’m told if New Orleans is taken and the north is the victor, everything we own will be destroyed or taken away from us, and most jobs will be eliminated leaving folks like us without money to live on.” Esther paused, looked sternly at her daughter and said, “It’s a terrible thought, but women may be treated badly. We’ll have no one to protect us because our men will have been killed or gone off to fight in other places.”
Joan quickly broke in, “What about Mark, Ma? Will he have to fight in the war?”
“I’m afraid so. It depends if his ship is quarantined to the New Orleans port or if it’s on a voyage. Maybe the war won’t last long, and not many men will be injured.”
“What are we gonna do, Ma? We can’t stay around here if fighting breaks out, can we?”
“We may have a few months before we have to make a decision. It’s not likely fighting will begin anytime soon, and maybe the Washington politicians on both sides can get together and work things out. Perhaps there won’t be a war.” Both women sat in deep thought about the unknown consequences if fighting did occur.
After a period of silence, Esther said, “I’ve written to Mr. Doyle, asking his advice on the matter, but I haven’t heard back from him. Sometimes it takes a few weeks for him to receive a letter, especially if he’s on one of his trips.”
Weeks passed, and gossip concerning the war was now in most everyone’s conversation; however, Esther still hadn’t heard back from Doyle. Joan
invited Bill to her house several times, and Mark had come and left again on another one of his voyages. This time he’d be gone for months. They were to stop at several faraway ports, the first being the port of Rotterdam in the Netherlands. Otherwise, Esther and Joan’s life went on as usual.
»»•««
January 1861 started off with a freezing, strong westerly wind and everyone dressed in extra warm clothing if they were to be outside. Inside, blazing fires were needed to take the chill off. On one such evening, Joan and Esther had returned home from work and were stoking the fire, bringing it back to life with added wood, when someone knocked on their door. “It’s Mr. Doyle,” Joan called out after opening the door and inviting him in.
It wasn’t long until the three of them were sitting at the kitchen table with coffee in hand. After a bit of small talk, Doyle said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to answer your letter, Esther. I was called to Washington on a business matter.”
“Was it concerning the war?” Joan interrupted.
“That’s none of our affair, Joan,” Esther said with a scolding tone. “Mr. Doyle’s business is private.”
“It’s okay, Esther,” Doyle said with a slight smile. Then turning to Joan, he said, “This can’t be repeated, but I’ve been asked by Union officials to be a captain on a Mississippi riverboat delivering soldiers to strategic locations along the river if a war between the north and south should take place.”
“Why would you do that, Mr. Doyle? Why would you help the Union when you’re from Virginia?” the girl asked rather bluntly.
“Partly because I have an interest in the Natchez Steamboat Company and have piloted steamers up and down the river many times.” Doyle could see questions in the women’s eyes as to how he had become a shareholder, so he continued, “The Natchez Company had recently been created and was strapped for money when I started working for them, so I exchanged my labor for an interest in the company. I was young at the time and didn’t require much money since the boat provided for all of my needs.” Joan started to ask another question, but her mother stepped in.
