The 15th Star (A Lisa Grace History - Mystery)

by Lisa Grace

  “What happened?” Louisa asked in shock at Graces’ condition.

  “I was taking the dinner dishes to the mess.” I got lost on the way back,” Grace wiped away her tears and tried to stop the shudders that ran through her body.

  “I’ll be fine Mrs. Louisa. Help me get home, please.”

  “We must tell George at once,” Louisa fastened Grace’s pantaloons as best she could.

  “Mrs. Louisa, that won’t help none. It’s done.” The pain became manageable as her lungs stopped their panicked pulls.

  “George will do something. He has to! He would not allow this to happen.”

  “Missus, your husband is the only good man I ever met, but he can’t do nothin.” Grace shuddered, wiped at her tears and tried to catch her breath. It hurt her so bad to breathe. “Major Rivers is important. It’s the law. He allowed by the law.”

  Louisa looked shocked, “That can not be! That can not be.”

  “Missus, I’s sorry, it is.” They both stood in shock while Grace tried to straighten and catch her breath. “Please Missus Louisa, help me get back.” Grace’s ribs hurt so bad she couldn’t stand up straight.

  “Oh Grace!” Louisa’s tears glistened in the dark. She helped walk her friend back to their quarters and stayed with her until she fell asleep.

  ***

  After Grace fell asleep, Louisa told Maggie, “I’m going to see George.”

  A young man had been sent to guard the women and Louisa made him get another soldier to stand at the post while he escorted her to George’s quarters.

  When she walked in, George was at his desk going over the daily work reports.

  “Over nine hundred American merchant ships taken this last year, and over ten thousand of our jack tars pressed back into The Royal Navy’s service. We can not let them treat us like they own us. They mean to make us a colony again, Louisa. President Madison is right. It must stop now or everything we fought for will be lost. As soon as their trade war with France is over, they will be marching against us. We must stop them now before it is too late.”

  Louisa nodded in agreement. She knew her business was not as important as that of national defense. “I have every confidence in you, George, and I pray that the Lord guides you in safety and strength.” Louisa knew to follow up this show of heartfelt support with a bit of personal flattery. She walked up to George and hugged him around the waist to gain his full attention on her womanly charms. “And how can they possibly stand against your superior wit and war expertise? Spank them and send them on their way.”

  George smiled. He hugged her back, kissed her gently, and then chuckled.

  “Did you get my note?” Louisa asked.

  George unwrapped himself from her arms and motioned her to sit. George sat back down behind his desk. He leaned forward in his chair, a serious look on his face, and placed his hands on his desk gesturing for her to place her hands in his.

  “Yes, Louisa, I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do.”

  Louisa, even though she had been warned by Grace, could not believe what she heard.

  “Nothing you can do?” Louisa raised her voice and pulled her arms back, “He raped her, and there is nothing you can do?”

  George got out of his seat and walked over to his wife, laying his hands gently on her shoulders, “Louisa. I am sorry, I truly am, this young girl was in the auspice of my care and I have let her down. I should have had a guard, not just for you, but for Grace and Miss Maggie. It is truly my fault.”

  “You are not going to court-martial Major Rivers, arrest him, punish him?”

  “Louisa, He has every right. I’m sorry your trip has brought you to see the low base needs of fighting men. I have asked him to refrain from now on from such behavior while in my fort. That is all I can do.”

  Louisa cried, “Poor Grace.”

  Later that evening, she vowed in her heart that somehow she would do her best to make up for the wrong that was done to Grace. She swore that some day the truth would come out and she would work to make sure that all women were safe no matter what their station in life or color.

  ***

  The next morning, Grace almost convinced herself that nothing bad had happened. Instead, she chose to count her blessings. She was still alive, she would be sore for a few days, but she would heal. She said to herself, “It is what it is.”

  Her flag that she had helped make was proudly flying over the fort. She had made a new friend, two, counting Miss Maggie. Mrs. Louisa had given her the gift of fine paper, and promised she would teach her to read and write. God was good when he tried, she thought. Part of her dream would come true. Everyone had their cross to bear and this was hers. She would live and be happy. She would not let Major Rivers steal her little bits of happiness anymore than she had let Mr. Copper.

  Grace packed her meager belongings and waited for the soldier to knock on the door announcing it was her time to go home. She prayed she would not have to face Major Rivers again. Miss Maggie came and told her that Major Rivers and his men had left at first light. For this Grace was thankful.

  Grace held Louisa’s hand when Louisa reached out for hers and promised, “I will write as soons as I learn how. Thank you for being my friend that is all the treasure I need. Please write me and tell me all the wonderful things that are happenin to you. I will pray ev’ry day that God keeps your good man safe, and you too.”

  Louisa said to Grace, “You are a dear soul. I will carry you in my heart and in my prayers. I think God owes you a spot of happiness as so much sorrow in one person’s life is not right.”

  Miss Maggie waved goodbye, “I wish you well little seamstress. I wish you well.”

  ***

  On the way back to the city Grace looked back at the fort. She had noticed on the way in but now even more so in the dull cloud-filtered light, the fort looked like a patch-quilt star, the stones resembling pieces of gold colored cloth. She noticed as they were leaving, one of the points sticking out to the sea with her flag waving above it, one toward the river, and one toward the city, one toward the west, and one to the south. What a clever design, she thought. She especially liked the one pointing to the city, that pointed her way home. She had no idea how important that would be in the battle that was coming down the road or to the future which was busy marching into the annals of history. Her history, and her country’s.

  ***

  When Grace returned, she tried her best to forget the bad part of what happened. Ma’am could tell something was wrong and she could see Grace was in some pain. The ride back had been especially hard on her ribs. The jolting of the horse drawn cart had made her scream out twice in pain when they passed over especially rough parts of the road. When she was back home and had a chance to look in the mirror, she saw her ribs were discolored. Big patches of yellow and black showed where she had bled under her dark skin.

  The next morning Ma’am called her into the drawing room. She held a letter and looked flushed.

  “I prayed over this letter all night, not knowing what to say. Sorry is so—inadequate. You should have been more careful, not so trusting.” She chided. She held out her arms as if to give Grace a hug. Grace reached out, grabbed Ma’am’s hands, and held them in her own. “Ma’am, I knows you didn’t know it was dangerous. I is sorry I wasn’t careful. May God forgive me. I am glad to be back.”

  A tear slid out of the corner of Mrs. Pickersgill’s eye. “Oh Grace, I’ll do better to keep you safe.”

  They stood that way for awhile, neither one sure of where to go from there.

  Grace decided to change the subject to get Mrs. Pickersgill away from the thought that Grace could have prevented the attack, “But Ma’am, you should have seen your flag raised. It was such a sight, and the sound of it flappin sounded like a fightin angel come down to earth. I never saw nothing that made my heart beat so hard out of gladness. What we do is important. I hads no idea.”

  They both smiled. “You should go rest Grace. I know how hard tra
vel is on a body. Go rest. I’ll have Bethany get you if there is something that just can not wait till tomorrow.”

  When Grace went back to bed, she shoved the desk chair under her door. She was never so aware that she lived in a house of women. She’d forgotten to ask if Mr. Jenson was around. She took no chances. That evening, after she awoke from a bad dream and the pain in her side, panic hit her and she cowered under her blanket. She prayed hard that night for God to give her peace. Having lived through the event, Grace asked God to not punish her by making her relive it. It took almost to morning before she felt the peace that comes from exhaustion. She had an unsettling thought in the back of her mind, but she pushed it back before it caused a fresh new round of panic.

  ***

  The next two weeks went by quickly. New ship orders for flags and colors had come in and they had more work than they could handle. With the days of fighting ahead, and the war drawing near, every regiment ordered flags. More ships were pressed into merchant service as the larger trade vessels were captured and conscripted into The Royal Navy’s service. Captured Royal Navy ships needed American colors and flags. The new ships being used to carry on for the merchants all required the proper flags and colors. Unfortunately, war was good for business.

  ***

  As Grace was busy sewing a color for another ship order, a loud banging and screaming erupted from the front door. Grace carefully put down her sewing and got up slowly as Bethany rushed past her from the kitchen. Mrs. Mary and Mrs. Rebecca came out of their rooms at the top of the stair.

  “Mary, oh Mary,” A lady without her hat, crying and heaving, stormed into the parlor as Mrs. Bethany opened the door. It was Mrs. Nichols from down the street. She was one of Mrs. Pickersgill’s friends from church and her husband was the captain of a nice size merchant ship. “They’ve taken him, they’ve taken Thomas and his ship!” Mrs. Nichols fairly screamed the last part out and collapsed into Bethany’s arms. Mrs. Mary came down the stairs and Mrs. Rebecca followed. Caroline was not around as she was visiting at her cousins’, Eliza and Jane Young’s house, this week.

  Mary took over the holding of Mrs. Nichols and gently led her to a chair in the parlor. “Oh my dear! I am so sorry, I have kept your Thomas and his crew and ship in my prayers every night.”

  “Bethany please get Mrs. Nichols a cup of coffee.” Mary turned her head to dismiss both Grace and Bethany. Grace picked up her sewing and followed Bethany into the kitchen. They could hear Mrs. Mary and Mrs. Rebecca comforting Mrs. Nichols as best they could.

  Bethany muttered words against the British under her breath while gathering a pot of coffee, creamer, and sugar, and placing them on a tray to take them into the parlor. The whole household had given up the drinking of tea in protest against the British and what they were doing to the merchant ships. Life in Baltimore revolved around the merchant ships. The British had been kidnapping the ships and the men for over nine years now, even though the war for independence had been over for more than thirty-six years, they still treated the United States like a colony. A flyer had arrived the other day asking households to arm themselves and be ready to fight as the British could land any time. The flyer stated Fort McHenry was arming for battle and may be seeing action before the end of the year. The letter also mentioned that The Royal Navy had taken well over a thousand American ships and their crews. The citizens of Baltimore were fed up. These were their husbands and sons. Almost everyone in town worked for a business that supplied the ships or had relatives on the vessels.

  The Royal Navy was boarding and conscripting the American sailors into members of The Royal Navy, against their will. King George was sending the ships, now filled with American merchant men to replace their own British deserters, into battle against the French and Napoleon.

  King George would let some American ships, such as the Fame, buy a license for safe passage, but those ships were few. He was running out of ships and treated the Americans like a colony once again.

  The outrage was, if you were born in Britain and came to America, you could be pressed into service until you paid a ransom to get out. If The Royal Navy suspected a ship had traded with the French, all bets were off and the vessel was confiscated for breaking Britain’s trade embargo. With over a thousand ships now violated, President Madison convinced Congress to sign a declaration of war to stop this outrage.

  The flyer warned the citizens to arm themselves in case of a British invasion or retaliation. Many of the merchant marines started taking matters into their own hands and were arming their ships against The Royal Navy, the flipside was, this would also slow the ship down. Thomas Nichols had gambled against arming his lighter weight ship choosing instead to outrun them. They must have caught him and his faster ship, with a full load of cargo. It was the only thing that would have slowed him down.

  Some merchant marines had actually recaptured American ships and British ships to give The Royal Navy a taste of their own medicine.

  ***

  “Grace,” Mrs. Mary called.

  Grace put down her sewing, got up immediately, and went into the parlor to see what Ma’am needed.

  “Grace dear, please take this letter to the solicitor’s firm of Mr. Key.” Ma’am finished signing the letter and put it in an envelope as she finished speaking. Ma’am then walked over to Mrs. Nichols and gently reached out to take her letter out of her hands.

  “Don’t worry dear, we will get him working on Thomas’s release immediately. You must remember that The Royal Navy is looking for money and that is why they sent you this letter. The good news is we have a good chance of getting him and his ship released. We must send it to Mr. Key at once,” Mrs. Mary gently lifted the letter out of Mrs. Nichols wavering hands and added it to the envelope before she handed it to Grace. It was clear that Mrs. Nichols did not want to let go of the letter, the only connection she still had with her beloved husband.

  “We will contact Mr. Key to negotiate Mr. Nichols’ release and that of his crew and ship. Dear, you will see we will get your husband back. This is a game to the British. We must play by their rules a little longer. This will not be the first case of this nature that Mr. Key has handled. He has been quite successful in his manner of negotiation with the British. We all have our trials in life to bear, and this is yours.” Mary sat back down next to Mrs. Nichols and comforted her as she slowly gained her composure.

  Grace dropped a curtsey and went back to the kitchen to get her shawl and hat. She wanted to hide her face as much as possible as she was still embarrassed from the events of a few days ago. She knew no one could tell by looking at her that she had been violated, but for some reason she felt it showed. As Grace walked slowly to the solicitor’s office, she thought about what the coming war might mean. She hoped Major Rivers would die in the war. If anyone had to be killed, it should be him. Grace knew thinking this way was a sin, but she couldn’t help herself. Grace felt sorry for Mrs. Nichols, having her man taken. Grace had seen it happen back on the plantation and the women acted the same way, all hysterical. Since Grace had only received bad things from the men she knew, she couldn’t understand the way those women were feeling. She knew what it felt like to be torn apart from those you love, but it had happened when she was so young that the separation had lost its sting and left a numbness in its place. Grace never knew her father and the way the plantation was run, she didn’t know if he was white or black. She didn’t want to know. She prayed Mrs. Nichols, who seemed to be a nice lady, had a better outcome than the slave women had had.

  Grace was worried about the approaching war. She knew the British would bring ships first to Fort McHenry which was less than eight miles away. About a half-day walking away. The British would have to leave their ships and walk inland from the fort. They wouldn’t be able to get too close to the port by sea, as ships were set up to guard its entrance. The river would be too shallow for the big battle ships to come in close, from what Grace had overheard as she made her deliveries to the ships on the docks
.

  Ma’am had a gun. Grace had seen it. She knew the family would flee before the British got too close. Grace prayed that if the British did attack Baltimore by land, that they would have enough time to escape. With them being so close to the port she worried. Bethany and Caroline would talk about it at the kitchen table while Grace just listened. Caroline, being the young girl she was, was very excited by the prospect and all the excitement. She was too young to remember the horror of war.

  Bethany would say, “Grace don’t worry none, we will hear the cannons and the firing from the fort to the ships. Runners from the Fort will be bringing hourly reports and if we have to flee, I’ll have enough time to bake us several nice loaves of bread for the trip.”

  Grace felt bad but knew if worse came to worse, she would run again. She would not be waiting for the soldiers to get close. Theirs or the British. Grace knew what soldiers did to women, young, old, black or white. Grace had spied a second pistol, kept in the cellar, at the bottom of the trunk where Ma’am kept the deceased Mr. Pickersgill’s things. No mention had been made of this pistol and Grace was sure Ma’am had forgotten it was there. If a time came to run, she would take it, along with the bag of shot stored with it. Grace might strike out on her own. These women were too trusting. Grace would not make that mistake a third time. It hurt to think of leaving this life she knew, but if the time came, she would. While Grace’s thoughts were busy making plans for the future, her body too was busy working and had another plan altogether in mind.

  *

  ***

  *

  Chapter 4 - September 1813

  Her curse didn’t come in August and now it wasn’t here again. Grace had been regular. It didn’t come. She felt the panic rise that night in bed when she was alone. She prayed to God, not to be with child. Especially not that evil man’s child.

  “Oh Lord, please no.”

  How could she care for a child and herself? She imagined with horror a little girl, like she’d been. How could she keep her safe when she couldn’t even keep herself?