by Jerri Hines
The door opened. A tall, handsome officer stepped into the cabin, followed by a cabin boy dragging a trunk. A Navy man. Jo recognized the uniform. Moreover, the man seemed familiar. His blue eyes held a warmth; his smile, kindness.
Glancing over his shoulder, the officer saw Percival kick his chair out from under him. Immediately, he walked over and grasped hold of the little boy, who clung precariously to the porthole with his fingers as his feet dangled in the air. Percival squealed in delight as he was flung over the officer’s head, touched the ceiling and then placed safely back on the floor.
Percival looked up at the man and asked, “Did you bring me more men to play with?”
“More men?” Jo asked in a failing voice. “Oh, no…you were there…”
“Yes, Mrs. Montgomery,” the officer answered, taking his hat off and tucking it under his arm. “Lieutenant Hugh McFadden. You may not remember but we have met before in Philadelphia.”
“Cullen.” She stared at him, remembering.
“Yes, Cullen has been a trusted friend for many years,” Hugh said. “I want to apologize for the inconvenience of withdrawing you from your home, but let me assure you, it was a necessity.”
Grabbing Percival by his hand, Jo took a step back. “That is what I’ve been told.”
He gave her a faint smile and opened the trunk’s lid. “In here are some articles I thought you might have use for...women’s and children’s clothes. I know you weren’t allowed time to pack.”
With Madeline balanced on her hip, Jo quickly glanced over the contents. A pretty blue organdie, a pink taffeta, slippers, petticoats…from the look of them, everything was new. She looked up at him. “Where did you get these?”
“I didn’t steal them from any defenseless Southern lady, if that is your inference,” Hugh answered. “You will have need of them. I have another trunk with warm clothing for you and the children as well. Boots, gloves, mittens. I won’t go into all the details, but I’m to escort you to Washington.”
Jo shot him a suspicious glare. Abruptly, she questioned, “What is going to happen to us?”
“I’m to escort you to my commander in Washington. From there, they will be able to tell you exactly what is planned, but I would not worry. Your family in Philadelphia has been notified. I would expect that Mr. Jonathan Smythe will be in Washington to greet you.”
Her eyes widened. “No…no! He will take Percival from me!”
Immediately, Percival ran in front of her and held out his hands, as if protecting her from the lieutenant. “Don’t make my momma cry. I haf to protect her…”
Lieutenant McFadden knelt down on one knee. “No one is going to harm any of you. I give you my word.”
“But you’re a Yankee!” Percival spat the word at him as if it was the most dreadful thing in the world to be.
“Yes, I am, but I am a man of my word. I’ll tell you what I will do. After I talk to your momma, I will take you on a tour of the ship. Would you like that?”
Percival looked pleadingly at his mother. Exasperated, Jo agreed, “If you are good. Now, let me talk. Sit on the bed and play with Madeline.”
Hugh waited until the children were settled. “No one will separate you.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Jo made an effort to keep her voice low. “What else am I supposed to think? I’m dragged from my home…taken against my will. Do you not know I have realized that Cullen has wanted to take Percival from me for a long time? That is his intention.”
“I’m certain it will be an adjustment, Mrs. Montgomery, but no one wants to pull a child away from his mother,” Hugh repeated. Lowering his gaze, and then looking back up at her, he went on. “I do have to emphasize that you can’t say a word about the scheme you uncovered. It has been a secret known only to a few. There will be serious consequences for the ones left behind if it is revealed. Harm could befall your family. Magnolia Bluff burned. I would advise you not to say a word to anyone unless I tell you it’s safe. Not even the commander of this ship knows the real purpose of our mission.”
“Your mission?” Anger resurfaced…rage at Andrew’s betrayal burned. “Your mission be damned.”
“I don’t expect you to understand—”
“I don’t want excuses. I want to go home, Lieutenant McFadden. I want to take my children—”
“That’s impossible,” he stated firmly. “It will be better for you to accept things as they are. You and your children are safe and will be well looked after. Cullen will—”
Jo laughed, almost hysterically. “Cullen?” she cried. “He will take my child and where will I be? Tell me, Lieutenant McFadden. What is to become of Madeline and myself?”
“Cullen has well looked after his—”
“His son? Percival is not his son!” she hissed. Had she not been so scared, so nervous, she would have collapsed at the assertion, but now she did not have the luxury to worry about her reputation. “Percival is Wade’s son. Cullen lost all claim when he left me. Can you not understand that he hates me? I do. I understand it well. He will be happy only when I’m destroyed and taking my child will do so. Please, Lieutenant, I beg you...don’t let him.”
“You are exhausted. Rest. I assure you that everything will work out. No one is going to take a child from his mother…”
“Don’t lie to me. Andrew told me you were sent to take him!”
“Calm down,” he replied, annoyed at the reference. “I would have never done such a thing unless absolutely necessary.” Hugh sighed heavily. “This conversation is done. All I can tell you is, don’t be concerned. Your welfare will be seen to. At this time, you have no other option but to sit back.”
“What do you mean?” Jo countered, completely confused.
“It is with the greatest reluctance, I am to inform you that you are being held as a prisoner of war. I would surmise that an agreement will be made for your release when we get to Washington. Until then, there is nothing more to be done.”
His words silenced her. She only managed a nod when Percival took the lieutenant’s hand and walked out the door with him. Her knees buckled and she sat back on the bed. Madeline crawled to her side. Jo hugged her daughter tightly.
She whispered, “Prisoner?”
* * * *
The city of Washington frightened Jo. Not at all what she had imagined, the city reeked with a rank, foul stench. Moreover, she was once more alone with her children.
Lieutenant McFadden had departed the ship the morning they docked. She had not seen him since.
Without warning that night, she and the children had been escorted by a platoon of Union soldiers from the ship to this house…this room. A platoon…truly a platoon to escort her! What did they expect—for her to make a run for it with two children on her hip?
In the darkness, she had been taken in an old rickety carriage to this house on a crowded street. The house was in need of much repair. The paint was peeling off the building; the bottom step was broken. When she walked into the foyer, she paused in an effort to get her bearings of her new surroundings.
Her immediate thought was that the house needed a good cleaning. One of the guards pushed her from behind. Jerking her head back, Jo shot the soldier a hard look.
“Upstairs,” he uttered roughly.
Grabbing Percival’s hand, she held tight to Madeline in her other arm and climbed the stairs. A door opened and they were herded into this room. Comprehension dawned on her. She wasn’t to live in the house, only this room—it was her prison cell.
The lock clicked. Releasing Percival’s hand, she raced to the door. It was locked. Looking around, the room contained little. A bed, a small chest, and a writing desk. A couple of hours later, the trunks were delivered.
Jo had never been more thankful. The room was cold. There was no fireplace and the temperature outside was frigid. Bundling the children up in their clothing, the three of them huddled on the bed.
Days passed and the room grew smaller, especially with a rambunctious
three-year-old. Percival couldn’t understand where the life he had known before had gone: the lawn, his dog, the stables…his room. Everything he had known and loved, except his mother and baby sister, had disappeared.
For a time, he had been distracted, first with the house in Beaufort and then the ship. Now reality seeped into his world. Moreover, Jo worried about Madeline. Her darling daughter had become even quieter than normal.
She needed to talk with Lieutenant McFadden. Even being forcibly taken from her home in the manner she had been, she had not suspected she would have been treated in this manner and…the children! It broke her heart.
Food had been scarce. Adequate water had been supplied to wash, but the children needed baths…she needed a bath, but not in this freezing room. She had long forgotten how it felt to be warm. Moreover, their clothes had disappeared. Having given clothes to the guards to be washed, none had been returned.
“Momma, I’m hungry. I want to leave.”
Percival pulled at her skirt. Jo wanted nothing more than to cry, but she couldn’t succumb to the desperation of their situation. She leaned down to her son to give him the only comfort she could. He smelled. Oh, Lord, he had soiled his clothes again. Once more, Jo changed her son.
He screamed, being exposed to the cold and the freezing water. “Momma, don’t! I can’t button ’em. They’re too small!”
“Please, Percival, you don’t have a choice. There is nothing else.”
Frustration overwhelmed her. The pants and shirt had been supplied by one of the guards. They were the last clean clothes Percival had. Madeline wasn’t in much better shape.
Crying Madeline climbed down from the bed and clung to Jo’s leg. Then Percival started to cry. Jo’s stomach growled in response to the stress. Food had been aplenty at Magnolia Bluff compared to the rations she had received over the last five days. She had given most to Percival and Madeline.
Percival had readily displayed his temper numerous times. Jo had given up on the thought of controlling his temper as he fell on the floor, kicking and screaming and wanting to know why he couldn’t eat, run, and where was everyone.
Truth be told, Jo wanted to do the same.
As she picked up Madeline, fear swept through her. Her daughter felt warm. Oh, Lord above, no! Madeline had a fever! Laying her daughter on the bed, Jo rushed to the door and pounded on the door, over and over again until her fist swelled. Abruptly, it opened and Lieutenant McFadden walked into the room.
“Lieutenant,” Jo began. “Have you come to take us away? The children…they need attention. I fear Madeline…” Then suddenly tears ran down her cheeks. “Madeline has a fever. We haven’t eaten…and are ever so cold.”
McFadden shut the door and frowned. He went into his coat pocket and pulled out treats for Percival and Madeline. Percival screamed with delight and for the moment was content. Madeline held it in her little hand.
Shaking his head, he had the look of wanting to say something.
“This isn’t what you envisioned? Surely, Cullen could not want this. Percival…” Jo choked back her tears. “You are going to take us away from this dreadful place…please, for the sake of the children…”
His eyes said otherwise before she heard his words. “Josephine, I’m so sorry...this has been a horrible fiasco. The war department is quite disorganized. I fear you have gotten lost in the paperwork. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.” Glancing around the room, he went on, “These are totally unacceptable conditions.”
Madeline began to cry once more. Jo picked her up, but even her mother’s arms wouldn’t comfort her. Jo turned to him with pleading eyes. “There must be something you can do. Madeline is sick…sick! They aren’t feeding us. You...” Her voice rose higher to a fevered pitch. “You sent us here to die.”
“No, no. This was never supposed to happen,” he insisted. Pressing his lips together, he hesitated. “I need you to give me the children. They are coming for you. You are being taken to a military court to be charged formally.”
A wave of despair swept through Jo. She felt as if her voice was paralyzed, but she managed to utter, “But I have done nothing.”
“It is not what you have done, but what you know. I’m not deserting you, Josephine...” He dispensed with formalities. “We don’t have much time.”
She gave him a wrathful look, disbelieving the words she heard. Suddenly, her legs weakened and with Madeline in her arms, Jo collapsed to the floor. Immediately, Madeline screamed; Percival ran and hugged her. His small hands pushed back her disheveled, dirty hair, trying desperately to get hold of his distressed mother’s attention.
“They are taking you to Old Capitol Prison. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to prevent them. They are in all probability coming at this moment. But Cullen’s father is downstairs, waiting in a carriage with Cullen’s sister, Elizabeth. They came as soon as they heard. Mr. Smythe came for Percival, but insisted on Madeline as well. Prison is no place for children. I’m sorry. I can’t begin...”
For a moment, she digested it all in silence. She held her hand up. “Stop, please. I don’t want to hear it. Cullen...where is he?”
“At the moment, he is on assignment in the Gulf of Mexico.”
Jo nodded. She was given no more time as the door flung open. Her gaze focused on Jonathan Smythe. He had changed little, dressed immaculately. Hat in hand, his eyes met hers.
He said nothing, for he caught sight of Percival. Immediately, his face softened. He had no need to say the words out loud; she saw it in his eyes.
“They are on their way upstairs. We don’t have any more time.” Jonathan’s voice faded, as if apologetic for what he was about to do.
Jo drew in a deep breath and did as she always had and always would.
* * * *
Josephine straightened her gown the best she could before the soldiers arrived. The moment they entered with their weapons drawn, she was glad her children were no longer with her. She ignored the soldiers as long as she could. Through the dirty windowpane, she watched the carriage fade down the street. Her heart withered.
Voices carried around her. Someone jerked her to face the man barking the orders. She said nothing but stared blankly out in space. One of the soldiers reached down and grabbed her arm roughly. She jerked it back and slapped him.
He caught her hand. His eyes widened. “Looky, looky! Whatca’ got here!”
Her wedding ring…the emeralds…glittered in the light.
He reached for it. The ring slid off her shrunken finger.
Jo grabbed for it.
He expounded a god-awful laugh.
Struggling to regain her ring back against his brute strength, Jo reached up to his face and dug her nails into it, clawing down across his eyes.
The Yankee slapped her hard across her face.
She fell down and hit the corner of the dresser.
He kicked her with his heavy boots. He jerked her up by her hair. The taunts began. “Southern whore. Hussy.”
Defiantly, Josephine Montgomery raised her chin and held her head high. She would not cry and give them the satisfaction. Never! The Yankee scum! She wanted nothing more than to claw all their eyes out, but she hadn’t the strength. She hurt so badly…her babies were gone.
****
Cloaked in darkness, Josephine was transported to the Old Capitol Prison. Originally a tavern had stood upon the ground, along with a hotel. The prime location on First and A Street led Congress to build a temporary brick capitol after the British had burned down the old one during the War of 1812. Before the outbreak of the present conflict, the building had been converted into a private school, and then a boarding house.
The huge rectangular, three-story building sat intimidating to all who walked by, but inflicted fear into Jo’s heart. Her legs swayed upon her entrance into a long corridor.
“Take the wench back to the side, Louie. Ya know where the prostitutes go,” the guard at the door yelled.
“Calm down, Sammy.
Ever seen the lot of us escort a whore? Commander Graham sent us. Got ourselves a Southern bitch!”
The voice faded as the door opened at the end of the corridor. An older officer emerged and gestured for the guards to bring her to him.
“Mrs. Montgomery, I’m Superintendent Wood. I have been instructed to place you within a cell and I must apologize…” His voice trailed off. He reached over and moved her face from one side to the other. His cheeks reddened and shook his head. Snapping his fingers at one of the sentries behind him, he ordered, “Miller, get her some decent clothes, water, and food. She looks as though the wind would blow her away. She is supposed to be in court in the morning. Who did this?”
Not privy to the heated exchange, Jo fell in step behind the sentry. Two others followed her. The cell was on the second floor. No sooner than the prisoners perceived her, than she heard obnoxious calls from men with Southern drawls coming from the cells she passed.
Their words were no better than the Yankees’, using the same coarse, vulgar expressions. She didn’t even know the meanings of some of the words, but there was no denying the implication they held, the vilest slang as if she was within a brothel.
At the end of the hall, Jo was placed in solitary confinement. She would learn later that her room lay in a unit with three other rooms that housed Confederate officers. The prison was filled to capacity.
The young sentry gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry none, Mrs. Montgomery. I can’t imagine they would hold you long. Don’t have many women here. Ya haven’t done nothing bad, have ya? From the look of you, can’t imagine you have. I’ll be back shortly.”
He closed the door and everything became black, blacker than night.
Her life had become a never-ending nightmare.
****
The morning came. Then two more days passed without word of what was transpiring. Jo had been able to wash and change her clothes, but she had no mirror to check on her appearance. Though, she could feel the huge bump on her cheek had lessened.
Superintendent Wood informed her that her hearing would be this afternoon. No matter what happens, I will be strong and face this challenge as Wade did.
