by J. F. Collen
Obadiah said, “This is not acceptable behavior to Yankees, you cad. I would not hazard an hypothesis on acceptable conduct of ‘gentlemen’ in the South, but in the North, we do not tolerate this untoward behavior. I said, on your feet!” He tugged the tie hard enough to pull Hannibal, grunting in pain, to his feet.
“Now forward—March!” commanded Obadiah. “Nathaniel, I trust you can steer these ladies safely back to civilization? It is high time they were reunited with civilized behavior.”
“It will be my distinct pleasure,” said Nathaniel, offering a hand to Augusta who nimbly jumped to her feet, and his other arm to Nellie, who gratefully put her hand on top. Their small parade out of the pines did not travel far before they met a group of three men who called to them.
“Hannibal Rufus Calhoun the Third,” one big man drawled. “Alleluia! We have had a devil of a time searching the Campwoods for y’all.”
“Well I’ll be a cotton-pickin’.... How is it possible you appear here in this camp?” asked Hannibal, attempting to divert their attention from his captivity. “I saw our caravan leave with my very eyes. By my calculations you should be well south of New Jersey by this time of day.”
“Those calculations failed, apparently, to take into account the tenacity of your mother. While she might smell like a magnolia, she is as tough as a pine knot. When she cottoned on to your disappearance, she refused to continue our journey. Like a mule fightin’ over a turnip, there’s just no reckoning with a Southern belle, once she settles her mind....”
The man interrupted himself as he saw Hannibal wince in pain. Only then did he realize his son’s hands were bound. Obadiah pulled on the tie to compel his prisoner forward.
“Young sir, what is the meaning of this? Unhand my son!” said the man.
“Your son’s comportment makes me leery of providing you the respect you may be due, sir. Therefore, I will not ‘unhand’ him until I have reached the proper authorities,” Obadiah said, looking the older man directly in the eyes.
Nellie and Augusta grasped each other’s hands as Nathaniel moved forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Obadiah. Nathaniel clamped his hand on Hannibal Rufus’s shoulder, and planted his feet.
“Son, I will repeat myself just one time, in case there is something awry with your ability to hear. Unhand this gentleman.”
Neither Obadiah nor Nathaniel moved.
The Southern gentleman tried a different tack, and turned to Hannibal Rufus. “What is the meaning of this here discomfiting condition?” The older gentleman smoothed his mustache with the exact motion Hannibal had employed just a moment earlier in the woods. Any doubt as to the relationship of the two men dissolved with this motion.
With a short laugh Hannibal Rufus tried to dismiss the situation. “These Yanks are under the misconception....” But Obadiah’s jerk on the cravat holding Hannibal’s hands caused Hannibal to interrupt his own narration with another grunt of pain.
“Perchance you can remember the actual facts as they occurred, and save the fictitious version for your triumphal return to your motherland?” prompted Obadiah.
Hannibal Rufus began again. “An innocent encounter...uuuggg!” Obadiah tightened the tie again.
“Perhaps I might enlighten you gentlemen, as this fellow does not seem to be in complete control of his faculties,” said Obadiah. “I am taking this chap to the sheriff. He has compromised the welfare of these two fine women. We do not tolerate behavior like this in the North.”
Hannibal Rufus’ father stepped forward. “I assure you, as the Louisiana Gentleman that I am, your trip to the sheriff is not necessary. I will take him into my own custody, personally ensure the well-being of these fine young ladies, and vouch for the safety of your Northern society, by delivering this here criminal against civility right to the most fearsome judge a man would ever face—his waitin’ mother! Would you fine gentlemen be able to honor that request?”
“Sir, your son has tarnished the word of Southern Gentlemen irrevocably in my eyes. However, I do acknowledge the highest authority to which you refer, and I do believe that a solution might be at hand to easily verify your gentleman’s oath, while putting my prejudice at ease.”
“That being?”
“Summon this fine lady here, and we will release this cad to her custody.”
“It might be downright impossible to convince Madam Calhoun to disembark her carriage,” drawled one of the accompanying men.
Obadiah pulled at the tie holding Hannibal Rufus’s hands and propelled him forward.
“However,” the gentleman said, stepping into Obadiah’s path. “She did advise she would not return home without her son. Perhaps if we head toward the main carriage entrance?” The man pointed in the opposite direction.
Before the situation escalated to fisticuffs again, a self-assured woman, with a parasol twirling over her head, walked sedately toward the group of three men and tapped Hannibal Rufus’ father on the arm.
“Daaarling, whatever is the de-lay? I see our son right here, standin’ nonchalant, with hands behind his back, a position no true gentleman should ever find his-self in, yet there is no detectable forward motion in the direction of our carriage. I do declare, I find this disconcerting entirely,” drawled the woman, in a quiet, icy tone.
The Southern men all stood meekly listening to this scolding. They looked at each other like chastised schoolboys. The woman stood, awaiting a reply, both hands on her parasol, glaring at them.
One of the gentlemen finally said, “Why ma’am, I—I confess, we had a small bit of difficulty locating this here boy. Close on its heels, I say immediately following, we experienced a confrontation with an unexpected situation.”
“Pray, do give me the particulars!” she drawled, twirling her parasol. “I am sure I could find no pleasure greater than standin’ here, listening to an amusing, long tale when at any moment, I am expected in the fair city of Philadelphia for my dear sister’s finest roast pheasant dinner. Do not concern yourself, son, with all of the people you have inconvenienced with your little charade.”
Madam Calhoun looked each man individually in the eyes as she said, “I could not even imagine what further calamity, whatever misfortune, could be more imperative than disruptin’ and disregardin’ the scheduled hospitality of so many of our kinfolk in the City of Brotherly Love.”
The three southern gentlemen looked extremely uncomfortable. They turned, as one unified body to Hannibal Rufus, clearly implying that he was the root of this whole situation, therefore the burden of explanation belonged to him.
He stepped forward, and grimaced, as neither Obadiah nor Nathaniel advanced with him, and his bound hands stayed behind with them. In spite of his predicament, his ears red with embarrassment, he stayed true to form and attempted to smooth talk his way around the situation.
His patience long gone, Obadiah gave Hannibal Rufus’s hands another twist, bringing his fanciful explanation to a halt.
Obadiah bowed to the lady with the parasol. “If you please, Madam, may I provide the service to you of an expedited summation of the circumstances?” He paused, waiting for her approval.
She raised an eyebrow at him, but remained silent. Hannibal Rufus’s father cleared his throat. “Boy, Madam Calhoun can hardly entertain your proposal without a proper introduction. Please do us the honor of introducing yourself.”
“If this don’t beat all,” Obadiah muttered to Nathaniel. “So refined they can’t talk to me without an introduction, yet a son who does not know how to treat a lady.”
“Ma’am.” Obadiah breathed out audibly. “If you will, I am Obadiah Wright—”
“Son of the Senator?” the lady interrupted.
“Yes, Ma’am as a matter of fact I am. Now about your son....” Obadiah determined to continue.
She held up a dainty gloved hand. “Regard one moment, sir! I have no interest in hearing anything from an offspring of that good-for-nothing Yankee politician. Attacking our way of life, as if he had
any proper knowledge of the opportunity we provide to those darkies to be useful, to be taken out of the barbaric life they lead in that most primitive of dark continents, Africa.”
Obadiah looked at the father of Hannibal Rufus. “Are these so-called gentlemen all impotent?” he muttered to Nathaniel.
Perhaps Hannibal Rufus heard him, or perhaps he grew weary of further extension of his disadvantaged situation.
“Now Mother, surely I have no love for this fellow....”
Hannibal Rufus’ father roused himself to take control of the situation. “Madam Calhoun, I declare you are the finest voice the South has ever had in defending our way of life. Howsoever, I do believe these discussions best be confined to the drawing room, for a friendly conversation aided and abetted with some fine southern brandy.
“We are rudely inconveniencing our northern relations who expect us in Philadelphia. Each moment we delay further removes us from fashionably late to catastrophically overdue. May I suggest we hear this fine gentleman’s say and then be on our way?”
“At the risk of being uncouth, I have dallied long enough! It is time to bring this scoundrel to the proper authorities!” Obadiah said firmly, and he and Nathaniel propelled Hannibal Rufus forward.
All the Southerners began talking at once. Hannibal swore so thoroughly, as Nathaniel remarked later, there was not a single known curse word omitted. The gentlemen began to argue with each other, and the lady made proclamations to anyone who would listen.
Past his limit for patience, Obadiah hesitated for only thirty seconds more before striding forward again and jerking Hannibal Rufus along.
The lady hurried over to him, and changed her mode of persuasion to angry insistence. She bombarded the men with a flurry of commands while scurrying to keep up with Obadiah’s long strides, and Hannibal Rufus’ sideways stumbling. Nathaniel strode behind, constantly righting Hannibal and prodding him to keep up with Obadiah.
Abruptly Obadiah interrupted the verbal barrage. “What of the honor of the fine young women he was accosting? I am sorry Madam—behavior such as your son’s is not tolerated up North, in genteel society.”
“The honor of a lady?” Mrs. Calhoun twisted her parasol in horror and pulled Hannibal Rufus by the collar, turning him around to face her, all the while keeping pace with the angry Obadiah. “I demand an explanation. I will not have my family name dishonored without a thorough elucidation of all the pertinent details of this allegation.”
“This Yankee’s active imagination has fabricated slanderous conclusions based on his interference with a private encounter I was having with my lady friend,” said Hannibal Rufus, with undaunted audacity.
Obadiah stopped and roughly turned Hannibal to face him. “You still posture and pose in denial of your culpability? These ladies have suffered far too much damage to their sanguinity to be subjected to any more of your preposterous lies! Nathaniel, take these ladies out of this scoundrel’s company. I will personally deliver this scallywag to justice and stay to see the bounder horse whipped and run out of town.”
“Enough!” commanded Mrs. Calhoun. “I have heard enough to run him out of your fine town myself.” Obadiah looked at her in surprise.
Nellie and Augusta looked at each other with amazement.
“You had the audacity to meet a young lady without her chaperone? You have trespassed against your upbringing. Who are your people? What kind of ruffian have we raised? You have brought disgrace to our name, and tarnished the reputation of our genteel civilization of the South,” she said in her icy tone.
Hannibal Rufus’ father finally spoke up. “Now Ma’am, no reason to arrive at a hasty conclusion.”
But she elbowed him aside and began her tirade again. She pulled Hannibal’s ear and began to move him forward as she berated his arrogance and inappropriate behavior.
Obadiah took a few steps along with them, and then quietly released the tie, freeing Hannibal Rufus’ hands and allowing the whole Southern entourage to continue to move forward. Hannibal Rufus stumbled along as quickly as the Southern matron’s tongue continued its lashing. Obadiah, Nathaniel, Nellie, and Augusta watched the former aggressor scurry alongside his mother; so miserably excoriated and so wretched he failed to realize his hands were free, and Obadiah and Nathaniel no longer accompanied him.
The three Southern gentlemen had quickly fallen into step behind the still chastising woman, mutely supporting her rough justice with their silent escort.
The quartet watched them go in amazement. They all burst out laughing as the ridiculous parade passed through crowd after crowd, leaving gawking people in its wake.
“Ladies,” said both gentlemen at the same time, each offering an elbow. Nellie and Augusta took them gratefully.
“Luncheon is now being served,” said Obadiah, with an affable smile. “Shall we?”
The ladies nodded their assent and were escorted to the dining hall.
Chapter 10 – Some Enchanted Evening
Sing Sing, January 1849
The snow on the hill that rolled from the Entwhistle house to the river glistened under the full moon’s silvery beams. Icicles hung sparkling from the eves, framing the window, as Cornelia Rose leaned out into the enchanted night, gazing at the spectacular view of her town perched on the water.
“It’s simply magical!” whispered Nellie. The rush of hot breath accompanying her words made a visible puff in the cold air. The whole village of Sing Sing was softly twinkling. She drew in a breath through her nose. The smell of the frosty air cast a spell of wonderment over her. What further enchantment will such an evening weave for me? she wondered. Mayhap a magical Winter Wonderland Ball!
She pulled her head back into the cozy warmth of her room and again, inhaled deeply. The smells inside were as intoxicating as the crisp night air had been. The aroma of cinnamon was wafting up the stairs from the kitchen. Dressed and ready for what felt like hours, Cornelia turned her attention to the sounds of many hands arranging food on tables, and many feet scurrying from kitchen to drawing room to dining room.
Curious to get a glimpse of the activity, Nellie crept down the back stairs. Stepping into the kitchen she was instantly amidst the main floor’s commotion. She dodged servants scurrying here and there, bustling about making the final preparations. Candle lighters walked gingerly about, carefully adding new candles to every freshly polished sterling silver holder, all the large chandeliers, and the many-mirrored sconces that outlined the perimeter of the ballroom. The sterling shone, the chandeliers sparkled, and the mirrors reflected and refracted the light, spreading throughout the beautiful formal rooms. At last, the grand house glowed with hundreds of lit candelabras. The effect was spellbinding.
Her reverie at the magical transformation of the house into an enchanted castle broke, as she inadvertently stepped into the path of one of the men hired to serve at the party. He reeled on his heels, tray in his hand swaying precariously. With a quick show of dexterity, the man caught the tray with his other hand, emitting a quiet oath as the glasses slid together. Her face pink with fear as she waited for the glasses to tumble from the tray’s edge and shatter, Nellie gasped, “I am sorry!”
The man righted the tray of rattling glasses, and sounded a soft whistle of relief.
Nellie squeaked, “Thank the Lord!”
The young man’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked at Nellie. “I think I had a bit o’ hand in averting disaster too.”
She looked up into his vaguely familiar blue eyes. She turned a bit redder. “Mercy, most indubitably... I did not mean to imply....”
The man threw back his head and laughed, glasses once again taking a little slide along the tray. “No harm done, Miss Nellie,” he said.
Surprised that he knew her name, Nellie grinned shyly and ducked away.
She flew up the stairs for her final toilette, mortification increasing her speed.
The glow from the activity downstairs and her embarrassment was only a dim ember compared to the sparks flyin
g in the girl’s bedchamber.
“Sakes alive! What is my ruffle doing on your sash?” demanded Agnes.
“You said I could have it,” retorted Anastasia.
“Since it looks far superior on me, I surely would not have uttered those words,” argued the oldest sister.
Agnes’ gave an indignant snort as Anastasia tied the sash more firmly.
They turned away from each other to style their hair, an unspoken cease-fire temporarily ensuing.
Nellie watched her two sisters preen in front of the mirror, making final adjustments to their hair and sashes.
I am delighted to see my sisters look so lovely, Nellie thought with satisfaction. Anastasia, a dark-haired beauty with an exquisite sense of fashion and a newly acquired flair for dressing, was stunning in her taffeta ball gown. Its shimmering dark blue transformed Anastasia’s hair to onyx. Cut daringly low, and accentuating all of her features, Anastasia was sure to turn heads.
Even Nellie had to concede Agnes looked equally attractive in her own right. Favoring their fair-haired father, Agnes’s powder blue gown highlighted her beautiful golden locks.
But truth-be-told, neither of them held a candle to Cornelia Rose. Her honey blonde hair, piled high in lustrous waves upon her head, fell becomingly down one shoulder and framed her lovely face. Nell was aglow in anticipation. Her silk taffeta dress was a deep crimson red that set her eyes sparkling and highlighted her rosy cheeks. While not cut as daringly as Anastasia’s, Cornelia’s gown did justice to her well-proportioned figure. Around her small waist was a beautiful white sash that ended in a bow. The ruffles at the neckline drew the admirer’s attention to the soft creamy skin of her small shoulders.
“Take that ruffle off immediately!” Agnes stamped her foot, reigniting the controversy.
“Agnes, you are an insufferable bully,” declared Anastasia.
“Mutter, come help Agnes and Anastasia resolve their little dispute.” Matthias ran into the room, red-faced, his finger stuck in his already uncomfortable formal dress collar, tugging on it. The darling youngest, Matthias was the only one brave enough to call on the highest authority in the house to resolve the difficulty.
