Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01]

by A Tapestry of Hope

  CHAPTER • 15

  ALICE DIPPED a linen cloth into a basin of cool water, wrung out the excess, and placed it across her granddaughter’s forehead. ‘‘Jasmine, I am concerned. You are much too pale, and your inability to hold down any food over the past few days worries me. Never in your life have I seen you in this condition while at sea. I hope you haven’t taken yellow fever.’’

  Jasmine gave her grandmother a bleak smile. ‘‘I’m sure it’s nothing so dramatic. I can’t imagine why I’m ill. The waters have been calm throughout our voyage.’’

  ‘‘At first I thought the illness was caused by something you’d eaten. But you’ve eaten the same meals as the rest of us. As far as I can determine, no one else appears to be suffering from this malady. Try a sip of water,’’ Alice fussed. ‘‘You need to have some liquid in your body. I’ll see if the ship’s cook has some broth you might be able to tolerate.’’

  The mention of broth caused Jasmine to think of food, but the thought of eating caused her to once again begin retching. When the unwelcome gagging finally ceased, she fell back upon the damp, flattened pillow, her forehead beaded with perspiration. Her stomach and ribs ached from previous days filled with sporadic heaving followed by constant painful headaches.

  ‘‘I suppose this is a fitting conclusion to our trip. The entire journey has been nothing but one disaster after another.’’

  ‘‘Now, now, no need to exaggerate, my dear. You’ll only upset yourself and feel worse. Moreover, we had many relaxing days visiting with your dear mother.’’

  ‘‘If you recall, Mother was supposed to return with us. That was the entire reason we made this voyage. As for visiting with her, I don’t think she even knew we were there most of the time.

  I fear she’s completely escaped into a world of her own making and hasn’t any idea what’s going on around her.’’ Jasmine shifted and turned on her side, resting her head on one arm. ‘‘It breaks my heart to see her in this condition. I wish I were close at hand to help care for her, but I doubt there’s any chance Bradley would consider moving south.’’

  Her grandmother’s waning smile confirmed what Jasmine already knew. Bradley would never consider leaving his position with the Boston Associates.

  ‘‘If we look at the positive outcomes of our journey, I think you’d have to agree it was a good thing Mammy returned with us and is remaining at The Willows.’’

  Jasmine gave a weak nod. ‘‘That’s true. Leaving Mother didn’t seem quite so terrible with Mammy there to care for her. But being without both of them is a greater personal loss to me. The house will seem quite empty with only the hired help. Mammy had become my confidante—I trusted her.’’ She swallowed hard, not wanting to once again begin the violent retching. The wave of nausea momentarily passed and she squeezed Alice’s vein-lined hand. ‘‘At least Bradley should be pleased.’’

  ‘‘Whatever do you mean?’’

  Jasmine knew she shouldn’t speak objectionably about her husband to her grandmother. And since her marriage to Bradley, she’d attempted to refrain from doing so. But she wondered if her reticence to criticize Bradley’s behavior caused her grandmother to believe he had evolved into a genuine saint rather than remaining the difficult, demanding man Jasmine had married. ‘‘I had to bargain with Bradley in order to gain his permission for Mother’s visit.’’

  Alice grew wide-eyed at the remark. ‘‘In what way? Or dare I ask?’’

  ‘‘Mother’s visit was contingent upon Mammy’s permanent return to The Willows.’’

  ‘‘I wondered why you weren’t overly upset about Mammy leaving. But I thought perhaps she had asked to return because she missed the warmer climate.’’

  ‘‘There’s no doubt Mammy prefers the South, but she would have remained in Lowell had it not been for Bradley’s edict that she leave. Apparently he received severe criticism from many of the Boston Associates because a slave was living in his household.’’

  She wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips together. ‘‘And, of course, we must manage our households as ordained by the Boston Associates.’’

  ‘‘You shouldn’t be surprised by their disdain. You know slavery is abhorred by most in the North, Jasmine.’’

  ‘‘And I now see the merits of abolition also. However, the Northerners speak from both sides of their mouth. They speak against slavery except as it relates to making them wealthy; then they turn their heads the other way. It’s pure hypocrisy. The slaves are necessary to produce cotton, and the cotton is necessary to operate their mills. I don’t see any of them refusing to buy cotton from Southern plantations. In fact, that’s precisely why Bradley was hired—to convince Southern growers to sell up north instead of shipping their crops to England.’’

  ‘‘You have a valid argument, child. Of that, there is no doubt.

  This very issue has been argued at antislavery meetings. However, you must remember that Bradley’s position hinges upon doing what his superiors request. And having Mammy with your mother is for the best.’’ Alice gave her a bright smile and plumped Jasmine’s flattened pillow. ‘‘I know you and Bradley are eventually going to look back upon these early days of your marriage with amusement. You’ll wonder how you ever thought it impossible to love him,’’ she said in an obvious attempt to buoy Jasmine’s spirits.

  Jasmine glanced up at her grandmother. ‘‘Bradley is not the man you think he’s become, Grandmother, and I doubt I will ever grow to love him. I try to be a good wife and I will continue to do so. However, his distasteful actions make it difficult to like him, much less consider feelings of love.’’

  ‘‘Don’t let this particular matter divide you. There are many Northerners who decry slavery when what they actually believe is slavery should not spread into other states. I think this one issue may eventually split the antislavery movement—at least politically.

  I pray it doesn’t fracture the movement so badly that we lose our impetus. I’m for complete abolition, but if we can’t have abolition, I don’t want to see any more proslavery states coming into the Union.’’

  ‘‘My disagreement with Bradley wasn’t over the slavery issue.

  Bradley insisted that I give Mammy up, and he also insisted that Mother spend half her visit with you. As for Mammy, I said we could request her papers from Father and free her. We could hire her as a servant like the other maids. But he denied my request.’’

  ‘‘You’ve not been married long. He likely requested your mother spend time with me because he wants more time alone with you. And even if you freed Mammy, folks know she came to your household as a slave and would always think of her in that capacity. It has all worked out for the best, Jasmine. Your mother needs Mammy, and Mammy is much happier at The Willows.

  Think about how pleased she was to see the other slaves when we arrived at the house. Overall, I think we had a good visit.’’

  Jasmine dipped her fingers in the cup of water and moistened her lips. ‘‘Have you ever been to the slave quarters, Grandmother?’’ ‘‘Only once. I never went again.’’ Alice peered at her for a long moment. ‘‘Have you, Jasmine?’’

  ‘‘Yes. I had to go and see for myself what it was like. You know that I have declared the Wainwright slaves are well treated. However, I decided if I was going to continue making such statements, I needed to assure I was speaking the truth.’’

  ‘‘And what did you find?’’

  ‘‘I find I have spoken falsely. I saw and heard things that made me weep.’’ She paused and looked toward the wall. ‘‘Does Papa advocate whipping the slaves?’’

  Her grandmother said nothing for a moment, so Jasmine looked back and saw her expression take on a look of discomfort.

  ‘‘He believes in discipline.’’

  ‘‘And discipline is meted out at the end of a whip, correct?’’

  ‘‘I suppose you could say that. Although your father generally leaves such matters to the overseers.’’

  ‘‘I suppose that assuage
s his conscience,’’ Jasmine said, shaking her head. ‘‘And no doubt the overseers rid themselves of guilt by saying they are only following orders.’’

  ‘‘You are probably right.’’

  ‘‘But what good does it do me to be right, when such injustice is going on? I thought our slaves were happy and well kept. I thought things were different because we were good, honest people.’’ ‘‘But in learning otherwise, what can you do?’’ her grandmother asked softly.

  ‘‘I learned slavery should be abolished. I can work toward that end.’’

  Alice leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

  ‘‘Then this journey was not a disaster—this journey was designed by God.’’

  ‘‘And this illness? Is it a part of the design also?’’

  ‘‘With God, who can tell? You try to rest. I’m going to finish one more row on my needlepoint, and then I’ll see about that—’’ Jasmine put a finger to her lips. ‘‘Don’t mention food, Grandmother. My stomach has finally settled.’’

  Alice smiled. ‘‘Try to sleep. We’ll soon be home.’’

  CHAPTER • 16

  County Kerry, Ireland

  KIARA O’NEILL grasped her legs tight and pulled them to her chest, her gaze fastened upon the young boy lying before her. She leaned forward, resting her dimpled chin upon bent knees while she listened to her brother’s labored breathing. Padraig turned onto his side and curled his body into a half-moon. Instinctively, she reached out and brushed the shock of black curls away from his damp forehead. The fever must be breaking. She drew closer to his side. His thin body was drenched in perspiration. As if she held a fine wool coverlet, Kiara wrapped a filthy piece of blanket tightly around the boy and then mopped his face with the hem of her ragged skirt.

  Through the open door of the hovel, a thin shaft of golden light could be seen on the horizon. ‘‘Ya ain’t answered many o’ me prayers, God, but I’m takin’ this as a sign that ya’ll be savin’ Paddy from the grave. And I’ll be tellin’ ya I think it’s the least ya could do under the circumstances.’’

  ‘‘Who ya talkin’ to, girl?’’

  Kiara startled and turned. Mrs. Brennan was peering in the door of the cottage with a misshapen basket hooked on one arm.

  ‘‘I’m talkin’ to God. Nobody else around here to listen to me complaints.’’

  Mrs. Brennan jumped away from the door as though struck by a bolt of lightning. ‘‘Ya best keep that sass to yarself. I doubt the Almighty needs ya tellin’ Him what He should or shouldn’t be doin’.’’

  Kiara gave a snort and wheeled around to face the woman.

  ‘‘Outside o’ killing Padraig, there’s not much else He can do to hurt me.’’

  ‘‘He could take yar life too if ya’re not careful.’’

  ‘‘And I’d be considerin’ that a blessin’, so I doubt He’ll favor me with such a decision.’’

  ‘‘Ya’re not the only one sufferin’, Kiara O’Neill. All of us have endured loss.’’

  ‘‘Right you are—and the Almighty could’a saved the potato crop instead of sending this awful curse upon us. Does na seem it would be so difficult for Him to look upon us with a bit o’ favor.

  We already got the hatred of the English to contend with . . . seems as though that ought to be enough for one group of people.

  Unless, o’ course, He’s planning to rid the world of us Irish. Then it would seem He’s doing a mighty fine job.’’

  ‘‘That smart mouth is gonna be your downfall, lass. If I told yar mother once, I told her a hundred times, ya—’’ ‘‘Well, me ma and me pa are dead along with all me brothers and sisters, exceptin’ for Padraig. So whatever ya told me ma is of little consequence now. All I’m carin’ about right now is keepin’ this lad alive, and if I’m to do that, I’m gonna need food for ’im.’’

  ‘‘Well, ya’ll not find anyone around here to help ya, and that’s a fact. I been to every hovel this side of Dingle, and there’s not a potato or a cup of buttermilk to be shared. We’re all goin’ to starve to death if we don’t soon find some help. Ya may have pulled the lad back from the brink only to watch ’im die of hunger.’’

  Her eyes burning with an undeniable fury, Kiara jumped up from Paddy’s side, and in one giant stride she was in front of the woman. ‘‘Don’t ya be placin’ yar wicked curse upon me brother.’’

  Kiara’s command hissed out from between her clenched teeth and caused Mrs. Brennan to back out of the doorway. The sun cast a bluish sheen on Kiara’s greasy black mane as she leapt after the woman. ‘‘My brother’ll not starve so long as I’m drawin’ breath.’’

  The woman held out her arm to stave off the attack and met Kiara’s intent scowl with her own steely glare. ‘‘Stop it, lass. I’m not yar enemy, just a starvin’ neighbor hopin’ to live another day.’’

  The words sliced through the hazy morning mist and pierced Kiara’s heart. The hunger and worry must be driving her barmy.

  She’d heard of such happenings—men and women unable to deal with the ongoing starvation and suffering of their families going completely mad. Only last week, Mr. MacGowan tied his entire family to himself before jumping off a nearby cliff. All of them had been crushed on the rocks below. Death had finally released them from their agonizing hunger, and the seawater below had washed over their bodies, sanitizing them of the dirt and grime of Ireland.

  Kiara stepped back and shook her head as if to release her mind from some powerful stranglehold. ‘‘I’ll be askin’ yar forgiveness, Mrs. Brennan. It’s these last weeks of watching me da die and then me ma and now Paddy getting so sick. And then burying them.’’

  ‘‘Now, now, child, don’t go thinkin’ on those last weeks. It ain’t healthy.’’

  ‘‘I go to sleep at night thinking about me ma and pa laying in that cold ground without so much as a warm blanket around them.’’

  ‘‘At least ya protected the boy, and he did na realize the cruel grave they went to,’’ Mrs. Brennan said.

  Kiara glanced toward Padraig’s emaciated form. ‘‘I’m prayin’ no one tells him. If he knew the undertaker slid ma’s and pa’s bodies out o’ those coffins into a dark dirt grave, well, he’d likely try to dig them up with ’is fingers.’’

  Mrs. Brennan’s head bobbed up and down in agreement.

  ‘‘ ’Twould be terrible for ’im to find out, but if he does, ya’ll just have to explain it’s the way of things. Ain’t enough wood to build coffins for all them what’s dying in these parts. How ya plannin’ to make do, Kiara?’’

  ‘‘I’m thinkin’ of goin’ to Lord Palmerston and askin’ him if there might be a bit o’ work at his fancy estate. Maybe workin’ in the house or even the gardens. And Paddy’s good with horses.’’

  Mrs. Brennan gave her a weary smile. ‘‘Ya do that, lass, and I’ll be prayin’ he’ll give ya some work. Ya might show him a bit o’ your lace. You got a real talent with the thread. He might be willin’ to put ya to work makin’ lace for his lady friends.’’

  ‘‘I do na think he’d hire someone to sit and make lace. Besides, I pinned me last bit o’ lace to Ma’s dress afore they buried her.

  ’Twas the least I could do. She deserved so much more than a scrap of fancywork.’’

  The older woman glanced in the door toward Padraig.

  ‘‘Appears the boy’s beginnin’ to stir.’’

  Kiara turned toward her brother and then looked back at Mrs.

  Brennan. ‘‘Would ya consider lookin’ in on him while I’m gone on the morrow?’’

  ‘‘That I will, and may God be with ya, Kiara O’Neill.’’

  ‘‘And with yarself, Mrs. Brennan,’’ Kiara whispered as she sat down beside her brother’s straw pallet. ‘‘Are ya feelin’ a mite better, Paddy?’’

  The boy gave a faint nod of his head. ‘‘How are we gonna make do, Kiara?’’ His voice was no more than a raspy whisper.

  ‘‘Don’t ya be worryin’ yar head. I’m gonna take care of ya,
Paddy, just you wait and see. I’ll be gone for a bit tomorrow, but Mrs. Brennan will stop by to check on ya, and I’ll make sure there’s a tin o’ water nearby. I wish I could promise ya a biscuit or cup o’ buttermilk, but I can’t.’’

  ‘‘I’ll be fine.’’

  The day wore on in a slow, monotonous mixture of hunger and fear. As night approached, Padraig slipped into a fitful sleep with Kiara steadfastly holding his hand. Throughout the remainder of the night, the boy wavered between a deep sleep and restlessness that kept Kiara awake and vigilent. When Paddy was quiet, she worried he had quit breathing; when he was restless, she feared his fever was returning. When morning finally arrived, her eyes were heavy and she longed for sleep. But there would be no rest this day, of that she was certain.

  ‘‘I’m goin’ down to the creek and get ya some drinkin’ water and wash me face a bit. Once I bring ya yar drink, I’ll be headin’ off for a while. I’ll be back before nightfall.’’

  ‘‘Where are ya goin’, Kiara?’’

  ‘‘Never ya mind, but I’m hopin’ to be bringin’ some good news when I return.’’

  She trekked through the countryside, her body weakened by hunger and threatening to faint on the road. The sight of starving families along the way, their mouths green from the grass and weeds that were now their daily fare, confirmed her decision to seek help from Lord Palmerston. Although she’d never seen the man, she had once passed by his manor with her ma.

  It was her ma who had observed Lord Palmerston many years ago when he was riding through the countryside with his companions and their ladies. Her ma had said he was a wee bit more handsome than most Englishmen, but her da had laughed at that remark, saying there wasn’t an Englishman alive who could turn the head of an Irish lass. He said Irish women were accustomed to men who would protect them rather than hide in the shadows.