Gregory, Lisa

by Bonds of Love

  Katherine’s first action was to give a party. She held a small, rather boring recital featuring a string quartet, to which she invited several Boston notables and Colonel Wellman, the commandant of the prison. The latter was quite overcome at rubbing shoulders with Back Bay Society and profusely thanked his hostess. However, not being partial to string quartets, he was not averse to being drawn away from the recital by Katherine.

  Propelling him to the edge of the room (to have left the room alone in the company of a man would have been quite improper), she said, “Colonel Wellman, I have been thinking about a project regarding which I would like your advice.”

  “Oh, Miss Devereaux, you know that I will be more than pleased to help you,” he said, flattered.

  “I am very interested in good works, as you probably know. I have often been involved in charitable work with Mrs. Castlemaigne—the wife of General Castlemaigne. No doubt you have met her and heard of her interest in charity.”

  He swelled visibly at her presumption that he communed with generals and their ladies and lied, “Why, of course; she is justly famous for her charity. An admirable woman.”

  “Yes, I greatly miss her company since they moved to Washington. Needless to say, however, I would like to continue with our work and have been cudgeling my brain to think of some way I could indulge myself and help the war effort at the same time.”

  “Quite admirable,” he murmured, wishing that he were not a married man, for he found Miss Devereaux’s fortune quite appealing and it was obvious that she was enthralled with him.

  Katherine, thinking that the dapper little man greatly resembled a sparrow, continued, “Finally, I realized that the perfect solution was the military prison. My father, as you know, employs several of your prisoners, and I thought that I would begin with them—sort of a test case. Don’t you think that’s a marvelous idea?”

  “But of course. Only—what exactly is it that you propose to do?”

  “Well, I hoped to save the Army some of the expense of their upkeep—buy their winter clothing, say. And since they are down at the shipyards during the day, how much simpler it would be for us to provide their lunch. And it would save you the expense and trouble of having to bring the food down to them at noon.”

  “Splendid. Splendid,” he said vaguely, thinking that society ladies came up with the most peculiar ideas. “Just take it up with the man in charge of them.”

  “I think perhaps I should show him your signature. Here, let me get a piece of paper and a pen. Now, if you would just write out your permission for me to give them clothing and feed them their noon meal—”

  The colonel, beginning to feel slightly harassed, hurriedly wrote out his permission.

  Katherine next enlisted the aid of Pegeen. “Peggy, have you ever been inside a pawnshop?”

  “Me, miss? Not likely.”

  “Well, do you know of any?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Perhaps a jeweler would be better.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, Peg, Father and I have had a rift, as you know.”

  “Indeed, I do, Miss Kate, and proper miserable he looks, too. I know if you’d just speak to him sweet-like, he’d be glad to have you come back to the office.”

  “But it’s more than that. He wouldn’t allow me my prisoner plan. Well, I’ve obtained the Army’s permission, but now I need to finance it.”

  “Well, perhaps he’ll give in on that.”

  “He might,” Katherine said judiciously. “But I prefer to present him with a fait accompli.”

  “A what?”

  “A—a finished thing—you know, like going ahead and buying a dress instead of asking permission to.”

  “I see. So you want to pay for it yourself.”

  “Exactly. But my pin money will hardly cover it. So I shall have to pawn my jewelry my mother left me.”

  “Oh, miss, not that!”

  “Well, not all of it, of course. Just what I need. It’s the only thing I have which is truly my own and not given me by my father.”

  “But you once told me those necklaces and eardrops and things had been in your mother’s family for years.”

  “So they have, and I should hate to lose them. But I’m hoping that Papa will be so convinced of my determination and so scandalized at my pawning the family jewels that he will reclaim them and finance my project.”

  “Oh, miss, wouldn’t it be easier just to ask him? I know my Pop has got a dreadful temper, particularly when the drink’s in him, but he’s always sorry after he yells at me, and if I smile at him real sweet and tease him and call him ‘Poppy’ like when I was little, he’ll always give in and do what I want.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to engage in that sort of subterfuge. I am right, you see, and I intend to defeat him, fair and square.”

  The maid sighed. “I’m sure I don’t know how to—wait, I’ve got it! My Jimmy will know. He’s a smart one, that boy. And he’s no doubt been in a pawnshop, for he’s a bit prone to gamble a little, you see, and I know he says he’s pawned and recovered his Gran’s gold watch a hundred times.”

  “Good. He sounds like our man.”

  He was indeed. A handsome, sharp-featured little man, with bright, knowing eyes and a cocky air, Jimmy O’Toole assured Miss Devereaux that he was just the man for the job. Taking her diamond earbobs, he soon returned with cash, getting a tip from Katherine and a kiss from Pegeen for his pains.

  Katherine promptly sallied forth to buy serviceable, cheap, warm, ready-made clothes for the men. She galvanized Mrs. Woods to action by explaining her food needs and then sadly sighing that she was afraid it would be too much for the housekeeper to handle.

  So it was that, two weeks after her father’s refusal, Katherine and Pegeen, with a bundle of clothing, boxes of bread, and buckets of stew, arrived at the shipyards at noon in the Devereaux carriage. Rather like a warship at full sail, Katherine strode up to the prison wagon where lunch was being dispensed, immediately drawing the attention of all the men. Something was going on, they could see, and they strained their ears to hear what she said to Sergeant Gunther.

  “Sergeant, I presume that you are in charge of these prisoners?”

  “Yes, miss. Do you have a complaint about one of them?”

  “Indeed not.” She looked haughtily down her nose at him, firmly believing it best to throw the enemy off-guard with a surprise attack. “I must tell you that I was appalled at the condition of these prisoners.”

  The sergeant stared at her blankly.

  “I can see that you have no excuse for it.”

  “But—but, miss, I don’t—”

  “Colonel Wellman quite agreed with me when we dined together last week.”

  The sergeant, bullied and not knowing how to escape—a friend of the prison commandant!—stammered helplessly.

  “Please, Sergeant.” Katherine held up one hand imperiously. “I quite realize the difficulties of the Army. I intend to remedy the situation myself—with the Colonel’s full accord, of course.”

  With a flourish she presented Wellman’s written permission. The sergeant read it and handed it back to her. “As you wish, miss.”

  “Good. I’m glad that we see eye to eye.” She rewarded him with a frosty smile. “Pegeen!”

  The prisoners, who had been listening to the exchange with avid curiosity, were now presented with a new spectacle: a pretty young redheaded girl approached carrying a bundle of clothing. Immediately all eyes focused on her. Pegeen flushed prettily, quite excited at all the admiration. One prisoner, a boy of about nineteen or twenty, sprang to his feet and went to Pegeen. He was a lively lad, thin, awkward in his shackles, but with a wide, generous mouth and merry black eyes.

  With a jaunty air, quite oblivious to his chains, he doffed his cap. “Allow me, ma’am. A pretty little girl like you shouldn’t be carrying so much.”

  At the jeers and catcalls of his fellows, he just grinned and called back, “Well, some of us a
re gentlemen, you know.”

  “Bring the clothes here, Mr.—” Katherine said and paused inquiringly.

  “Former, ma’am,” he said agreeably. “Ensign Edward Former, C.S.N. Where shall I put these?”

  “If you would just stand there and hold them, Pegeen and I will dispense them. Gentlemen, if you will please line up, Miss Shaughnessy and I propose to give you each a warmer suit of clothes. It has come to my attention that you are not quite suitably dressed for the rigors of a Boston winter. Feeling that time was more of the essence than fit, I bought these ready-made and primarily in a medium size. I do have a few, however, in a larger or a smaller size. If you will please form two lines, one in front of Miss Shaughnessy and one in front of me. Sergeant, if you and your men would fetch the food from the carriage, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  After the clothes were doled out, Katherine dispensed the stew and bread, while Pegeen poured out the coffee. The men, feeling slightly giddy at the delicious aroma of stew and coffee and at the unaccustomed pleasure of being so near soft, smiling, fragrant women, laughed and talked excitedly. Katherine and Pegeen caught the festive mood, feeling quite warm with doing a good deed and with the obvious appreciation of the men.

  “Ma’am, this is the best coffee I’ve had since 1861, and that’s the truth,” the irrepressible Former called out. “The only thing good about getting captured is getting away from that chicory stuff. Though I’ll tell you truthfully, ma’am, that prison coffee ain’t much better.”

  “But what in the world is chicory coffee?” Pegeen asked.

  Fortner explained, “Chicory coffee is made with chicory nuts instead of coffee beans.”

  “But what does the war have to do with coffee?” Pegeen persisted.

  There was an outburst of laughter, slightly tinged with bitterness. “The blockade, ma’am, the blockade. Do you know that coffee beans are grown in South America? Well, they are, and they have to be shipped in. And when the ships can’t get in—voilà, no coffee beans and therefore no coffee. Actually, we weren’t so bad off in the Navy ‘cause we could stop in foreign ports and get coffee there. But I pity the soldiers and women stuck on the land.”

  “Pegeen, I think it’s time we left now,” Katherine intervened, seeing the girl puzzling out another question. “If one of you men will be so good as to carry these pots back to the carriage? Sergeant, I think that it would be much easier to serve off a trestle table than the end of a wagon. Tomorrow if you would just set up a table—nothing elaborate, of course, just a couple of sawhorses with planks in between—thank you. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Come along, Pegeen.”

  Before they reached the carriage, Teddy Mathias intercepted them, wide-eyed with suppressed curiosity. “Miss Katherine, your father would like to speak to you in his office.”

  Katherine squared her shoulders for the final confrontation and followed him. Pegeen went on to the carriage to wait for her, feeling sympathetic pangs of nervousness for her mistress—more than was felt by Katherine, who rather looked forward to settling the matter. Knowing that she had already won, Katherine sat calmly through her father’s tirade, simply waiting for his anger to burn itself out. He thundered about her disobedience, her insolence, her extravagance, her stubbornness, her willfulness, and her absolute gall until finally, exhausted, he dropped into his chair.

  “Papa, I did not harass the Army,” Katherine said mildly. “I simply talked to Colonel Wellman, and he was quite pleased to give me his permission. You see, here is his written authorization. It was not obtained under duress. Having his permission, I fail to see that I have done anything wrong.”

  “Katherine, I expressly forbade you to—”

  “Oh, no, Papa, you left the subject open. You didn’t say that I could not approach the colonel, nor did you say that I could not feed the prisoners with Colonel Wellman’s approval.”

  “Katherine, you are merely quibbling with words—if you were a man, you would have made an excellent attorney. The import of our conversation was that I did not wish for you to do this.”

  “Yes, I know you disapprove and that is why I am paying for it myself.”

  “Paying for it yourself? But how?”

  “Well, of course, my allowance would not cover it, and I didn’t wish to use your money, opposed as you are to the idea. So I pawned the diamond earbobs Mama left me.”

  “You what?” he gasped. “Do you mean to tell me that you walked into a pawnshop and pawned your mother’s earrings?”

  “Well, of course, I didn’t enter a place like that myself. I entrusted the job to a friend of Pegeen’s.”

  “Who the devil is Pegeen?”

  “Papa, please, your language. Pegeen is my maid. At any rate, I did pawn Mama’s earrings—at least they aren’t centuries-old heirlooms, like the pearls or the garnets or the ruby drop.”

  “Katherine, I cannot allow you to dispose of your mother’s family jewelry in this manner.” He raised his hands in a gesture of capitulation. “You win. I shall retrieve your earbobs and from now on, your project bills are to be sent to me.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” She rose to lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Am I forgiven enough that I can return to work? I should very much like to.”

  Her father smiled. “You are certainly forgiven that much. Frankly, it’s been dreadfully difficult here without you.”

  Katherine smiled and returned to her carriage. All the way home, she had to answer Pegeen’s anxious inquiries and then attempt to explain the rationale of a blockade to her. She felt rather deflated, oddly enough. She had won, and of course there was the principle of it, and she would be helping those men, but somehow the whole thing seemed so petty and unimportant. While all of life thundered with such mighty battles, the horrendous clash of ideals, the simple, important struggles to survive, she seemed doomed to waste her life on trivialities. She had an awful picture of herself in later years, an aged spinster engaging in petty social battles. Surely there must be more for her than that. She wanted to wrestle, to fight, to build. To challenge the wilderness like a prisoner woman, taking care of husband, home, and children in primitive conditions, struggling to keep alive and bring civilization to a wild land. To have a career, to build a business, to combat the sea and wrest a living from it. To seek adventure—tea in China, gold in California. Anything—anything but moldering quietly away in Boston!

  “Miss Kate,” Pegeen’s voice intruded on her thoughts, “are you all right? You got so quiet all of a sudden.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine, Pegeen. My mind was just wandering.”

  “Yes’m. You know what I noticed, mum? That bold man wasn’t there, the one that winked that day. Why do you suppose he wasn’t there?”

  “I don’t know, Pegeen. I hadn’t noticed he wasn’t there,” Katherine lied coolly.

  “I don’t know how you could keep from it, miss,” Pegeen said, shaking her head over Katherine’s strange ways. “He’s a terribly handsome man, that one.”

  “Is he?” was all Katherine said.

  Two days later, Katherine was dishing meat and potatoes onto plates when she looked up to see Captain Hampton standing in line three men back. Her stomach gave a peculiar lurch as her eyes met his gray ones. He looked thinner, paler—as if he had been ill; but his smile was as self-assured as ever. As she fed the men before him, her pulse began to mount and her muscles tense, as if she were preparing to race.

  “I see you have turned to good works, ma’am,” he said when he reached her, extending his tin plate. “Surely you didn’t take to your heart anything I said.”

  She raised her eyebrows and said, “I’m sure I don’t know; I can’t remember what you said to me.” She gave him an extra slice of meat, feeling an unwanted stab of pity at the sight of his thin wrists. “Have you—been ill?”

  He laughed an odd, hoarse laugh. “No, ma’am, I’ve been in solitary. Being punished, you see—I have this remarkable ability to get under other people’s skins.” He winked slyly. “But I’m
so indispensable here, your foreman talked them into sending me back.” He moved on to where Pegeen was dispensing coffee and bread, leaving Katherine choking back the words of sympathy that had sprung to her lips.

  When she returned to the office after lunch, she began to question Teddy. “Once you said something about a Rebel raider named Hampton. Was he captured?”

  The boy’s eyes lit up. “Was he ever! That was some battle, Miss Katherine. He sailed out of Wilmington—the one in Carolina—right under the noses of the blockaders, floated out on a foggy night—Lord knows how he got out without running smack dab into one of our ships. But he didn’t. Well, we spotted him just as he edged past and we started firing, but then he started his engines and steamed away. Well, it made the skipper of the San Francisco so mad that he started out after him. But that Hampton, he headed for Cape Hatteras.”

  “The ‘Graveyard of the Atlantic’?” Katherine said in awe.

  Teddy beamed at her knowledge. “That’s right. Well, Hampton knew that channel like the back of his hand, but the captain of the San Francisco didn’t, and she grounded. Hampton picked up the survivors and put ‘em in irons and sailed to Nassau, where he unloaded the prisoners and a cargo of tobacco and stored up on provisions and coal. And then he headed north and proceeded to burn three of our merchant ships. Well, it was July, right after Read, and the Navy was hopping mad and they sent three ships after him.

  “One of them found him and engaged battle. What a fight! The Union captain was a canny one, too, and they dodged each other and swooped in and fired a shot and then they’d sweep around right quick to miss a broadside. Well, finally Hampton got the better of him and the Union ship retreated. But Hampton’s ship was badly damaged and he was running low on ammunition, so he starts back to a friendly port. Only on his way there, he runs into the second ship we got looking for him!”