eleven
By eight thirty I was in my room, my head swimming with the events of this very full day. It had begun with Charity’s apparent miscarriage, and ended with meeting Frederick’s new love as well as hearing news of Faith’s impending marriage. The middle of the day was the confounding part. Charity’s mysterious message about the money, and her final inaudible words after her mention of Orpha. Bertie’s tidbit about Ransom acting unpleasantly. The way Ransom had reacted to the news of his wife’s death. Virtue’s animosity toward him. John Douglass’s displeasure with me at the hospital. Not being able to talk with Orpha. And being banned from the station by Kevin’s new boss.
I resolved to visit Orpha first thing the next morning. At least that part I should be able to clear up, whom Orpha had cautioned Charity not to see. Or where not to go. If it had been an abortionist Orpha had warned against, who was it? I’d heard a name or two in town but never encountered any of them. Since the highly restrictive federal Comstock law was passed more than fifteen years ago, sharing information about abortion or contraceptive methods was now illegal, even though it hadn’t been earlier in the century.
A self-appointed vice hunter, Anthony Comstock had sponsored a bill in the forty-second Congress effectively making dissemination of information about contraception and abortion illegal. I had read the wording, which prohibited “any article whatever for the prevention of conception, or for causing unlawful abortion.”
Prior to that law, and several passed in states prior, inducing an abortion before the fetus quickened wasn’t a crime at all. After the fetus began to move, terminating a pregnancy had been considered a misdemeanor, not a felony. Now advertising, mailing, or even talking about contraception or abortion could land one in jail. A number of states had also passed what people called “little Comstock laws,” as well, many of which went even further than the original law. Massachusetts was one of them. My state’s law sought to make even private conversations about contraception or abortion illegal by prohibiting verbal transmission of information. As a result, those offering services for preventing or ending pregnancy had been driven underground and forced to act out of the public eye.
Abortion by mechanical means, rather than from ingesting an abortifacient, was a very risky procedure. In the hands of a skilled and patient practitioner, a curettage of the uterus using one of the available metal tools could be successful. The tools included a slender rod with a bend near the rounded, flattened end that would be gently inserted into the pregnant uterus and manipulated. Inserting the rod was extremely painful for the woman, and the wielder had to exercise great caution not to perforate the uterine walls. There was a certain root that practitioners sometimes inserted into the mouth of the uterus, the cervix. Left there for a time, the root absorbed the body’s fluids and expanded gradually, opening the cervix and making the tool’s insertion less of an ordeal for the patient.
But impatient, less-skilled abortionists with primitive tools like knitting needles or long crochet hooks were dangerous in the extreme and often resulted in deaths like Charity’s.
And if Orpha had not warned Charity against attempting to terminate her pregnancy by mechanical means, what had she cautioned her not to do? There were also herbal and chemical methods to induce miscarriages, of course. But if not used correctly, women could become severely ill or even die from taking them. I’d heard of a death when a woman ingested an extract of foxglove, a toxic poison, and another when too much nightshade was taken.
I drew out paper and pen and began a letter to David. After greeting him, I started with Faith and Zeb’s happy news.
I hope thee will accompany me to the Meeting for Marriage this First Day afternoon. My parents will be arriving on Seventh Day to join in the celebration, and the young couple is so joyful I could not help but feel the same.
I also mentioned Frederick’s introduction of Winnie to the family, saying I was glad that he seemed to have found someone with whom to be happy. I rested my pen and sat back for a moment. At the dinner table I hadn’t broached the subject of where the newlyweds would live, but I doubted it would be here. I didn’t know if Zeb had saved enough money from his employment at the carriage factory to buy a modest home for the two of them. His father was of more means than Frederick, as he was a judge, so perhaps he would help them purchase a residence. Which would leave me as sole housekeeper here, a prospect I did not relish.
On the other hand, if the bond between Frederick and Winnie strengthened, they might well wed too, and she move in here. In that case, would she want me to stay occupying the front room? She seemed a sweet woman, but she could easily wish for the use of the parlor. Where would I go in that case? I had lived in a boardinghouse while I apprenticed with Orpha and in the first year of taking over her practice, but I’d had to do all my antenatal examinations in the pregnant woman’s home, which greatly increased my travel and meant I had to cart client records all over town, too. I wouldn’t like to return to that way of conducting my business if I didn’t have to.
I knew at some point David and I would work through the obstacles thrown in the way of our own wedding vows and then I would be leaving the Bailey household, regardless. But when? It was really only David’s mother Clarinda standing in our way now. Amesbury Meeting would neither let us marry there nor even let me remain a member of the congregation for a time after I wed my intended.
I wrinkled my nose. Would Amesbury Friends even allow David to attend Faith’s Marriage Meeting for Worship? They had to. Non-Quakers always were welcomed to occasions such as weddings and Memorial Meetings for Worship.
I heaved a heavy sigh and returned to my scribing, turning to Charity’s death. After I described the facts of it, I wrote,
I long to talk through the situation with thee. I cannot decide if she in fact suffered a miscarriage, or if a person did harm to her. Her last words were
I was so absorbed in my writing that I started at a knock at my door. “Come in,” I called.
Faith poked her head in. “May I?”
“Of course. Come and sit for a bit. I was just writing to David.”
“To tell him our news?” She smiled shyly and perched on the chaise with a tentative air.
“Of course, dear Faith. I am so happy for thee and Zeb, and I want to be sure David is free for the service.” I turned my chair to face her. “I had a few other things I wanted to share with him, but it can wait.”
“I wanted to apologize for arranging our clearness and the wedding date without consulting thee.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I … I was so worried thee would feel hurt that Zeb and I were marrying before thee and David.”
“It’s all right.” I reached out and patted her hand.
“Is thee sure?”
I nodded. “Thee has far fewer obstacles in thy path than we do, for which I am glad. We’ll arrive at our ceremony as Way opens.”
“And I eagerly anticipate thy union, as well. I have told Annie about our ceremony. She will be with us on First Day and said to tell thee she will do anything to help, it is only to ask.”
Annie Beaumont, Faith’s friend from the mill, had also left that grueling job and was my apprentice in midwifery. She had an excellent manner and was a fast learner. Right now she was attending a week-long training in Boston, but blessedly would return at week’s end.
“I am glad of it. Shall I invite John Whittier back to town, as well?”
“Would thee? It would mean so much to me. After he introduced me to Lucy Larcom in the fall, my purpose to also become a writer became ever more clear.”
“I’m not sure he’ll be able to come, but I’ll send him a quick note. Now tell me about thy new dress.” Which must have been what Alma had been about to tell me earlier in the day before deciding it wasn’t her news to share.
Faith’s face glowed. “As thee knows, Friends are not to indulge in fancy wedding dresses. None o
f this virginal white for us, although of course I have never … thee knows what I mean.” Her color rose.
“Of course. Go on.” What a sweet innocent thing. And what a gift that her betrothed was as kind and sweet as she was. They would explore their sexuality together and learn from each other over time.
“I found a fine wool in the most beautiful blue. Alma is adding delicate shirring on the bodice, and it is in a simple version of the latest style. It’s plain enough for the Women’s Business Meeting to approve of, and nice enough for a wedding.”
“And then thee shall have a new frock for special occasions thereafter,” I said.
“Exactly.”
I rose and extracted a flat package wrapped in tissue from my armoire. “Here. Wear this with thy new garment. Don’t they say the bride is to wear, ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’?”
She unfolded it and squealed, clasping the lace collar with both hands. “It’s beautiful, Rose.”
“Mother tatted it and sent it after we’d made our visit to Clarinda Dodge during her last visit. I think Mother hoped my marriage to David would transpire sooner rather than later. But thee shall have it now.”
“I thank thee.” Her face grew serious as she stared at the collar. “But I have a request of thee that gives me some trepidation.”
“Better to come out with it, then, and we’ll examine the issue together.”
“All right. Both Zeb and I are eager to become fully intimate after we are wed. And we want to have children, create a family, by and by. But not right away. Are there methods to delay becoming with child?” She gazed at me with the most earnest face I’d ever seen on her and I almost laughed. “The girls at the mill would talk about such matters, but nobody really knew anything.”
“Of course I can help thee, darling. There are pessaries thee can insert inside thy passageway.” I couldn’t help noting the irony that I knew how to help clients both prevent pregnancy and terminate an unwanted pregnancy, as well as how to birth a healthy baby. I continued. “Or a sponge treated with a spermicidal solution. French letters are an excellent solution for preventing the impregnating fluid to pass through. They’re also known as rubbers.” I ticked the methods off on my fingers. “And then there’s the man withdrawing his member before—” I glanced up. Faith’s earnest eagerness had turned to complete confusion. Now I did laugh. My niece didn’t have a clue as to what I was talking about.
“What does thee know about the actual sexual act?” I asked gently.
She simply shook her head, her cheeks aflame.
“Then we’ll start with the basic lesson. Orpha made it clear at the start of my training that if I was to help women with the consequences of having sexual intercourse, I’d better know how it all worked.” I’d had one disastrous experience with intercourse when I was nearly Faith’s age. But it was during a terrible assault—not exactly a lesson in love and intimacy—and I wasn’t going to share that with my happy young niece. I turned to my desk, pushed aside David’s letter, drew out a blank sheet of paper, and beckoned her to share my chair.
“Here’s what happens,” I began. My niece had asked me to stand in for her mother, and stand in I would.
twelve
By the time Faith and I had finished talking last night, I’d been too tired to complete my letter to my beau. The delay was worth it, though. I was able to help her ready herself for her wedding night, and we’d grown even closer in the process. She was truly an adult now, no longer the little girl I’d watch grow up into this caring, thoughtful, intelligent young woman.
Faith had told me she and her husband-to-be were planning to move in with Zeb’s parents. Sadly, the family had had an extra room available ever since Zeb’s younger brother’s death in the Great Fire last year. The couple would have two rooms in the large house as their own while they built a new cottage at the end of Orchard Street. At least they’d be close by. Orchard was only a few blocks from here.
The next morning after breakfast I wrote the rest of what I wanted to and readied David’s letter for the morning post, glad he’d given me the name of his hotel. He wasn’t due home until Sixth Day, so the letter should reach him in plenty of time.
I spent the following hour reviewing my files and my schedule of client visits and due dates. I didn’t want to pay my visit to Orpha too early, but I also had an antenatal visit scheduled at eleven. While I worked, though, the back of my mind still labored on the conundrum of Charity’s death. Would I hear from Kevin about the autopsy? If he’d ordered it done, I longed to hurry the process. And if he hadn’t, I wished I could go see him and try again to convince him it was necessary.
Finally the clock reached a decent visiting hour and I decided to walk. Orpha didn’t live far and it was a sunny, albeit cold, morning, because the snow had ceased falling during the night. The clean fresh inch of white on the ground squeaked when I trod on it. Faith’s happy news should have made me glad and given a spring to my step. Instead my feet were leaden. The sadness of losing Charity had made my body heavy, dragged down into sorrow. It felt more acute than yesterday, as if the truth had finally invaded my very bones.
Fifteen minutes later I sat opposite Orpha in her small sitting room. We’d chatted for a few minutes about our respective families and I’d filled her in on David.
“But you’re not here to ask me how my great-granddaughters are.” Orpha was old and her eyes rheumy, but her gaze missed nothing, even my thoughts. “I heard poor Charity Skells crossed the dark river yesterday. Were you with her?”
“Yes, I was. She sent for me in the morning, saying she was ill. When I reached her house she was bleeding copiously, Orpha, so I took her to the Methodist Hospital.”
“Did you try extract of ergot to stop the bleeding first?”
“I didn’t think I had time. They administered some to her there, but it was too late and she expired from a grave loss of blood. In my calculation, she must have barely been pregnant, and I don’t understand how such an early miscarriage could even hold that much blood. In any case, none of us was able to save her and I confess to feeling a heavy sadness.”
“That’s to be expected.” Orpha nodded, rocking slowly. “She came to me.”
“I know.”
She cocked her head topped with grizzled hair. “Oh?” The lines in her face depicted canyons of experience and the wisdom she’d gained from it.
“Yes. Her last words were that she was sorry. That thee warned her not to do something or see someone. But her voice trailed off and that was it. I couldn’t make out what she said.” I clasped my hands in my lap and leaned forward, intent on her answer.
The old midwife nodded again. “She visited me last week. She said she had never gotten back her monthly, despite not having a baby to suckle, and that she was certain she was with child. Rose, she was desperate to end the pregnancy.”
“As so many women are.”
“Yes.” Orpha strung out the word as if it fueled her rocking. “As so many are. She’d already tried the safe herbal measures by mouth to no avail.”
“Did she say where she’d obtained them?” Virtue had mentioned giving Charity funds for such herbs. Had Virtue gone the extra step and obtained them herself?
“No, she refused. She insisted she needed to terminate her condition by aborting the fetus through mechanical means. You are correct, it was early days yet, which should have made it easier.”
“Except as we both know there are no safe mechanical means.”
“Which is what I told her.” Orpha rocked back and forth, back and forth, then paused. “Would that it were safe, though. Women would be saved much grief. It would greatly help those who are not ready to become mothers. Those who have a husband unwilling to help them avoid carrying a too closely spaced child. Those who are victims of assault.” She focused her rheumy but keen eyes on me.
&nbs
p; I had told her I myself had been a victim of a terrible assault, but my resulting pregnancy had blessedly ended itself in an early miscarriage. Having gone through that ordeal was one way I knew Charity’s bleeding had been excessive.
I nodded slowly. “Thee speaks truth. But why didn’t Charity come to me?” I sat back, frustrated. “I would have helped her.”
“In your heart of hearts you know why, Rose. I’m the old lady, her first midwife, and she knew I would not judge her. You are young yet, and wise beyond your years. But—and do not take offense at what I say—even you have things still to learn about how to go gently with our women.” She peered at me over the top of her spectacles. Her gaze, one which I knew almost as well as my own visage in a looking glass from the number of times I’d seen it, was kind and firm at the same time.
I did not take offense, yet the criticism was the jab of a small but sharp needle. “Does thee think I am too quick to judge?” Had I perhaps judged Charity too quickly for staying with Ransom, for not being successful in spacing her pregnancies? I hoped I hadn’t.
“We are given long lives so that we may continue to learn throughout them. Just keep doing the best you can, my dear.”
It was my turn to nod. “In the end, thee gave her a name of an abortionist?”
“No, I refused to,” Orpha said. “But I suspect she had already obtained one or more contacts. They are available if you know who to ask. She might have had a friend, an acquaintance, even a sister who’d undergone an abortion and survived with her health and her fertility.”
“If, as I fear, Charity’s death is the result of an improperly executed curettage, the person must be prosecuted,” I said. “I need to discover the name and pass it along to Kevin Donovan. I knew it was too much blood,” I added, murmuring.
Orpha raised a bony cautioning finger. “Rose, I want you to consider your path carefully. Many who study the best termination methods and offer them to women also provide contraceptive information and do our clients—your clients now—a great service in spacing their pregnancies to conserve the women’s health. Let us not jump to prosecute with too much haste.”
Charity's Burden Page 5