Li’l Joe quickly nodded.
“Well, then,” Blue continued in earnest, “there are secret pathways called underground railroads that enable runaway slaves to have freedom. I am one of many who travels with runaway slaves in order to get them north to Canada. We have secret stops along the way. Do you understand?”
“Yes, we do,” replied Trick and T.J. in unison.
“Good. I assist runaways on their journey. I first met Li’l Joe in Princeton at Reverend Lovejoy’s house. He asked me to take Li’l Joe under cover of night to Oscar Taylor’s house in Freeport. So Li’l Joe and I departed in the dead of night from Princeton about a week ago. We followed the rivers, as we always do. Last night, in the light of the moon, I noticed faint footprints in the mud that lead to this wigwam. That is how we arrived here. We only travel at night. We rest during the day. Do you know where the Oscar Taylor house is?”
“Yes. It’s just one hour away from here by foot,” Will replied. “We can take you there tonight for sure. Allie and Jenny will go home before nightfall. T.J. and Trick best be getting home, too. Aaron and I will stay here with you until darkness, and then we will lead the way.”
“OK,” Blue replied. “When we get close to the Taylor house, you must lie back, and we will make it there by ourselves.”
The friends nodded in agreement.
“Well, Jenny, Trick, and T.J., we best be headin’ home now,” Allie said as she walked over to Li’l Joe. “You best keep movin’ with Blue. You are a friend of the wigwam now, and we have carved you in the palm of our hands, like the Good Book says.” Hugging Li’l Joe first and then Blue, she turned to Jenny and smiled. Jenny then did the same.
“Now you stay safe, Li’l Joe, ya hear?” said Trick with a wide grin. “S’pose some day when this is all over, we can come back to the wigwam and catch some big fish.”
Li’l Joe smiled.
Blue extended his hand to T.J. and then Trick and thanked them both.
Will looked at the friends. “You best be headed home. Aaron and I will make sure Li’l Joe and Blue get safely to Mr. Taylor’s house,” he said.
Within a moment, Jenny and Allie began their walk upriver. Trick and T.J. then began their trek downriver. When all of them reached their respective bends in the river, each turned around for a final wave to the wigwam friends…before fading into the shadows.
Chapter 22
Freeport
Saengerbund Ball
Brewster House
December, 1861
The quiet hint of violins echoed through the parlor to the steps in front of the Brewster House. Final preparations were in the making. A large chandelier with two hundred or so burning candles hung above the ballroom floor. Musicians pinched the strings of their instruments causing a discordant pitch. The ballroom was ready for the most prominent citizens of Northern Illinois society. Freezing temperatures and howling winds could not keep them from the dance. By nightfall the ballroom would be filled, spilling out to an overcrowded vestibule.
“Well, if it isn’t Captain and Mrs. Cowan! It’s is so good to see you here!” Mrs. Putnam exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm.
“You may call me Heather,” Mrs Cowan replied, nodding as if touched by royalty.
“And please call me Leonora,” she said as she extended her gloved hand to the Cowans. “And who is this fine and lovely young lady with you?”
“This is my dear daughter, Mary,” Heather replied. “She has been waiting for this moment for many months now. Perhaps a young officer will take her hand tonight.”
Mary giggled nervously. “Please call me Molly,” she replied respectfully.
“Molly it is, then,” Leonora replied as she looked at the debutante. “Well, Molly, don’t be shy because there are several officers in nice blue uniforms on the floor already. But you best do a quickstep. Our Freeport ladies are in a gush about them.”
The sixteen-year-old blushed again and looked down at her hoop gown. In preparation for this special event, her first venture into a ballroom, she had practiced the waltz steps with her father, Captain Cowan, dancing for hours on the hickory floor in front of the fireplace in their modest home in Warren, Illinois. Though tired from the long carriage ride, she quickly perked up at the sight of the glowing chandelier that cast marvelous patterns across the ceiling.
“I love your gown. It is just beautiful!” said a soft and charming voice behind her.
Startled, Molly turned to face another young woman about her age and replied, “Oh! Well, thank you.” Looking at her ball dress, Molly smiled and said, “Your gown is more beautiful than mine. And what is your name?”
“You have just met my mother. I am sorry. With the crowd and all, I had difficulty getting to you. My name is Jenny Putnam. I live here in Freeport.”
“So you are the other debutante tonight?” asked Molly.
“Yes, it is just the two of us. And you are Mary, I believe?”
“Yes, you may call me Molly though.”
“Molly…Molly…oh, I like the name! I know many by the name of Mary, but no Molly, so I guess you are the one and only Molly for me.” Jenny suddenly felt she had made an awkward comment and felt a quick pang of embarrassment for overstepping the formality of the moment.
Molly nodded and replied, “I live on the Apple River between Galena and here. I have friends from Apple River, but no one in Freeport. So you, Jenny, are my one and only Freeport friend.”
Both girls smiled, nodded to each other, and then looked to the soldiers in blue on the other side of the dance floor.
Jenny continued. “Well, my father has always told me that distance has no boundaries for true friends. Some friends are gold, others are silver. The gold shines brighter than silver from afar.”
The orchestra struck up again. The noise of the crowd turned to a hush as the strands of the violins took over. The Saengerbund Ball was beginning.
“Is your father an officer?” Molly inquired. The violins started the slow waltz cadence.
“No, Molly, he is the fire marshal here. He has been talking to friends about raising a regiment, but it may take some time. Is your father in the Union army?”
“Yes, he’s here tonight. He’s a captain in the Forty-Fifth Illinois Infantry. He’s recruiting new members this month with Colonel John E. Smith.”
“John E. Smith! I know Mr. Smith!” Jenny replied excitedly. “He is a very good friend of my father’s. They were in the Wide Awake Society and helped Abe Lincoln get elected!” Jenny’s excited voice and hand gyrations caused a stern-looking woman with silver locks to raise her longette to her eyes and stare disapprovingly at the debutant. Chastened, Jenny composed herself, holding her hands next to her satin gown.
“Do you have an escort tonight?” Jenny asked.
“No, but I believe Alfred, the colonel’s son, will ask for my hand in a waltz. He sure looks handsome in his gray West Point uniform. Do you see him over there?” Molly pointed across the room to a gathering of officers. “He is the youngest one. He is standing between my father and Colonel Smith. He will dance with me unless he asks you first.”
Jenny blushed and quickly replied with a respectful smile, “Well, he may ask me to dance, but my heart is with another. His name is Aaron Dunbar.”
“Is he in the Union army?”
“No, but he’s thinking about enlisting someday soon. He had a friend sign up already, and he’s itching for a fight, too.”
“Is he here tonight?”
“No, I am sorry to say, he isn’t, although I’d like him to be. He couldn’t afford an ascot and suit for the occasion, though he’s more handsome than any here in a uniform.” She looked quickly at Molly. “Of course, except your Alfred.”
Molly smiled. Her eyes glowed happily. The music began to rise and roll like the waves in an ocean.
Molly looked once again at the group of officers where her father stood. “Do you know Alfred Smith helped save Freeport a few years back?”
Jenny tilte
d her head inquisitively. “How did he do it?”
Molly replied proudly, “He was in the church belfry and directed a young man with a rifle to shoot at gunpowder barrels, which snuffed out the fire. It was pure military genius. I guess he was the general that day.”
Jenny, knowing that her father directed the whole town rescue, did not speak for fear of ruining a relationship with her newfound friend. She knew that in time Molly would learn about Fire Marshal Putnam. And she would someday learn about Elmer, Will, and Aaron, who saved the horses…and perhaps T.J., who was with Alfred…and the three hundred men in the bucket brigade who fought the fire furiously for hours. Jenny paused for a moment and looked up. The music seemed to swirl like smoke drifting upward and into the chandeliers. The candles twinkled brighter.
“Yes, Molly,” Jenny replied, “I have heard of Alfred. I did not know he was Colonel Smith’s son. It does not surprise me, though, that he would have the courage. Colonel Smith is a brave man, too.”
“Do you know who the young man was with Alfred on the church belfry that night?” Molly asked as she kept her gaze on the group of officers.
“Yes, he’s a friend of mine. He’s from the town of Buda.”
Molly looked back at Jenny. Her curiosity piqued. “Buda is pretty far from Freeport. How do you know him?”
Jenny looked at Molly and said, “Aaron, my beloved, and I met the rifleman on the Pecatonica River a few years back. His name is Thomas J. Lockwood. We call him T.J. for short. He always walks the river with his friend Trick, who is also our friend. Maybe you will meet them someday.”
“I would be honored,” Molly replied. “Truly honored.”
Jenny was happy to discover through their conversation that Molly, resplendent in her evening gown, had great character to go with her charm. She seemed wholesome to her with not one arrogant bone in her body. Perhaps one day, Jenny thought, just perhaps one day she would share the secret place of the wigwam and invite her in with the other friends. Jenny felt a sense of peace as the orchestra’s waltz tune flowed in perfect cadence to its conclusion.
A silence descended on the ballroom, punctuated by some laughter from a group of cigar-smoking men on the far side of the room. As the musicians set their instruments on their laps, the orchestra leader stepped forward.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced. “I welcome you to our annual Christmas Saengerbund Ball and hope that this evening finds you both warm and happy. As is customary at events like this, we will open the dance with a special schottische for the lovely ladies here tonight, the most beautiful ladies in this part of our dear country. I would especially like to welcome our two debutantes, Miss Mary Cowan and Miss Jenny Putnam.”
There was a short pause and then silence.
“Her name is Molly!” someone among the cigar-smoking men shouted.
A ripple of laughter filled the ballroom.
The orchestra leader smiled goodnaturedly and said, “My apology to Miss Putnam,” he said, bowing to her.
The crowd’s laughter lit up the room again.
“It is Molly Cowan!” shouted a score of men from the shadows.
The conductor bowed again. “My apology to Miss Cowan.”
A few ladies near the orchestra shook their heads.
“As I stand corrected, the important dance of this evening is the dance of the debutantes. And it is also very special because it is a prenuptial dance that will someday lead to a dance with their betrothed. So without further adieu, I would like Fire Marshal Putnam and Captain Cowan to join their beautiful daughters on the dance floor so we can commence this special evening.”
Captain Cowan and Fire Marshal Putnam crossed the room to the middle of the dance floor. They nodded to their wives first and then to other ladies in the room. The two debutants walked up in concert. Molly’s gown was a crimson color that contrasted smartly with her father’s deep-blue uniform. His red sash that covered a sword belt in battle was secured snugly around his waist and was a perfect match to her gown. He placed his left palm upward, and Molly placed her palm gently in his hand.
Jenny followed in step. Fire Marshal Putnam stood six feet two in his black suit. His vest and ascot were a powder blue that matched Jenny’s gown as well. Both couples were ready. The “Palmyra Schottische” struck up with its early and slow rhythmical cadence. The others waited for the third pass that would permit their entrance to the floor.
Molly and the captain and Jenny and her father all moved in perfect rhythm as the graceful music echoed as if coming from the ceiling and walls. Soon it turned to the Bohemian country dance sequence. The two father-daughter couples lifted their heads, smiling widely as the dance progression moved to two short runs and a hop followed by four turning hop steps. With their fathers in sync, the debutants moved across the floor…step, step, step, hop…step, step, step, hop…step, hop, step, hop, step, hop, step, hop….
With the third pass around the orchestra complete, the other couples converged onto the dance floor. The spectacle of swirling color on the floor enhanced the crystal chandelier above them. Within minutes the debutantes were approached by suitors, and Captain Cowan and Fire Marshal Putnam returned to the corner of the room with the other officers.
Captain Cowan reached to the bar table and collected two glasses of whisky. Handing one of the glasses to Putnam, he raised his glass for a toast. “I would like to toast our beloved daughters,” announced Cowan. “That they find peace and happiness and are someday betrothed to men of goodwill and good standing in this great county.”
Putnam raised his glass. “Thank you, Captain. And to you, sir, hoping that this war brings you safely back home so that you will spend your days in the company not of soldiers but of many, many grandchildren!”
“God bless us all!” Alfred announced as he emerged in his gray uniform from the shadows. He looked at his father as he raised his glass.
As the waltz continued, both Molly and Jenny stole nods of approval from their fathers who beamed proudly in the shadows. The joy of the first dance was being realized by both young debutantes. No dreams of it anymore. They were women of society now.
Alfred was waiting for the right moment to approach Molly when the waltz ended abruptly.
There was a short pause as suitors bowed to the debutantes and returned to their places on the sides of the ballroom. The orchestra shuffled its music sheets in preparation for the next waltz.
During this brief interlude, an older officer on the opposite side of the ballroom from where Alfred stood approached Molly. He nodded and then bowed to her as he grasped her delicate little hands. Lifting his chin in a stoic arrogance, he placed his right hand around her waist and then raised his right grip as if a grand master. The boldness of the move caused a stunned silence.
The colonel was fully decked in his dark-blue wool uniform. He had eagles on his dress epaulettes. The red sash around his waist had tassels that hung down like tapestry cords, swinging to and fro as Molly, with a nervous smile, looked toward Alfred and her father for rescue. Her new dance partner was more than middle-aged and had gray lamb-chop sideburns that extended from each side of his face, around his jaw, and back up, connecting the stream of hair to his moustache, which was overgrown like a sheepdog. His brown eyes were beady, and the chandelier reflected off his mostly bald head. Finally, he was a short man, about five feet five inches tall, which meant he was able to look at Molly square in the eye.
“My God,” said Alfred’s father, Colonel Smith. “That’s Old Hindquarters out there! Do you remember? He walked to our table at the Tremont House and insulted Abe Lincoln?”
“For cryin’ out loud! That obnoxious,” Putnam paused as he held back an expletive, “colonel has the audacity to steal the floor and ruin this fine evening. I will go to him when the music stops!”
The waltz ended, and the old colonel bowed to the startled Molly, turned, and walked away.
“There’s no need to go to him, Mr. Putnam. He is coming to us,” Alfred replie
d.
As the diminutive colonel approached the men, everyone, including the orchestra, paused to see what reaction would greet the old colonel who approached the circle of officers as if nothing untoward had happened.
“Hello, gentlemen,” he announced arrogantly. “Do you remember me?”
Though Putnam and the officers knew who he was, they remained silent so as not to extend one measure of courtesy.
“I am Colonel John Loomis the third…of the Twenty-Sixth Illinois Infantry. I see, Colonel, that you are doing your duty, but you, sir—Is it Mr. Putnam?—have not found the time to serve your country?”
Putnam seethed in silence, not trusting himself to speak.
“Colonel,” replied Colonel Smith, “what is the reason for your introduction? What do you want?”
“Nothing, Colonel, but to say that I am recruiting soldiers in Freeport this week; then I’m heading north and then east to Waukegan. Perhaps Mr. Putnam here would like to join the ranks of my regiment. I could offer you a captain’s position.”
“Mr. Putnam will not serve with Democrats…especially little ones,” said Captain Cowan. “And if you ever approach my daughter to dance, you best clear it with me or—”
“Or what, Captain? Will you court-martial me on a ballroom floor?” Loomis replied sarcastically. He looked at Alfred. “I see you are in a West Point uniform. And by the stripes on your sleeves, you will graduate this spring. Perhaps, young man, I could give you a captaincy along with Mr. Putnam.” Loomis looked at Putnam who glared back at the arrogant officer. He smirked at Putnam.
The silence became awkward to those who were in earshot of the exchange. The orchestra quickly struck up a tune, and dancers took to the floor.
As the melodious strains of a waltz again filled the room, Molly and Jenny found themselves enjoying the attention of younger dance partners. Molly looked at Alfred, beckoning his approach with a curious nod. He caught the look, smiled, and nodded back.
Turning his attention back to Colonel Loomis, Alfred replied, “No, sir, I have plans of my own,”
FRIENDS OF THE WIGWAM: A Civil War Story Page 15
