Laura groaned. “That seems just plain diabolical. Whoever is behind all this probably knew what the effect of the hazing had been on Julia Beck, knew that eventually she’d had to leave school, go back home to Watsonville. A year later they wanted the same thing to happen to Grace, send her home…all the way to Nebraska. So the petty attacks, the escalating threats, and the public humiliation.”
“And it worked,” Caro said sadly. “But Grace died. And I showed up and made it known to Willie that I would not rest until I knew exactly what happened.”
Laura leaned forward. “Are you sure you want to continue to pursue this? I am with you all the way, if you do. But it seems that whomever is behind all this is ruthless.”
“I do appreciate your concern, Laura,” Caro replied. Then she gave Laura a rather wolfish grin and said, “Whoever is involved will find that I am an entirely different adversary than either Julia Beck or my cousin Grace, and I won’t rest until I am sure that they can’t hound anyone else, ever again.”
Chapter 31
Wednesday morning, March 23, 1881
Berkeley
“Charter Day: Thirteenth Anniversary of the Establishment of the University of California. Oration, Iago, Seth Mann,” 1881 Blue and Gold Yearbook
It was Charter Day, celebrating the founding of the University of California in 1868, and as a result, there were no classes. Instead, the grounds of the Berkeley campus appeared filled with well-dressed outsiders who were slowly making their way up the path to the Harmon Gymnasium for the festivities.
Caro found herself impressed by the sheer number of people who had decided to attend the formal ceremony, and for the first time she appreciated the forward-thinking Mr. Harmon, who had donated money to build a facility that combined both a gymnasium and auditorium and could supposedly seat twelve hundred people for events like Charter Day and graduation.
Chad, the young sophomore from her boarding house, had asked if he could accompany her, and she welcomed his presence amidst the crush of people. While her statement to Laura that she wasn’t going to be deterred by any harassment wasn’t just bravado, she wasn’t foolish. She recognized the sense in Laura’s admonition that she not walk places unaccompanied, even if her choice in her knight gallant today was a thin, stoop-shouldered young man who looked like a sharp wind would cut him in two.
When they finally entered the gymnasium, Caro couldn’t help but think about Grace and her experience at Junior Exhibition Day. Today, the gymnasium was hung with evergreens and acacia, with its small yellow blooms, and the decorations on the stage itself were more banks of evergreens and bunches of lilies. She was about to ask Chad if he’d worked on the decorating committee this time when he said, “Do you see those two ladies who seem to be waving at us? Do you know them?”
Looking around, she saw Laura’s two friends, Kitty Blaine and Celia Beale, who were standing in the aisle about to enter one of the only rows of benches with a few spaces left for sitting. As they beckoned to Caro, she drew Chad with her through the crowd. Miss Blaine scooted over, saying, “Miss Sutton, would you and your friend care to join us? I believe we can squeeze in two more people.”
After Caro introduced Chad, and everyone got seated, Kitty whispered to her, “Laura asked that we be on the look-out for you. She wanted us to tell you she decided not to attend. Mrs. Dawson asked her to do some shopping with her this morning. Given her sister-in-law’s delicate condition, Laura didn’t feel she could refuse.”
“I quite understand, and I really appreciate your saving us a seat, Miss Blaine. I had no idea so many people would show up.”
“Oh, do call me Kitty. I think that the people of Oakland feel sort of proprietary about the university, since the school spent its earliest years there. At the same time, the city leaders of San Francisco, where most of the Board of Regents live, don’t want Oakland or Berkeley to claim all the glory. It’s also my impression that people of every rank like an excuse for an excursion across the bay when the weather is this fine. I heard that the university sent out invitations to everyone of any consequence. My father even received one, although he said he was too busy to come.”
Kitty then laughed shyly, fingering one of her velvet cuffs. Caro wondered why the young woman beside her appeared so nervous. Caro didn’t usually pay any attention to what other women were wearing, but even she could see how very fashionable Kitty’s ensemble was, with the touches of dark green velvet that set off the pale green silk. Then she remembered that Laura had told her that Kitty Blaine’s father, although an extremely wealthy and politically well-connected businessman, was also Irish, uneducated, and had made his start as a saloon-keeper. Caro suspected Kitty was used to the kind of veiled snubs that people whose ancestors arrived at Jamestown or Plymouth Rock routinely gave out, hence her nervousness when she mentioned her father’s invitation.
She also remembered Laura saying that her friend was probably one of the smartest young women she’d ever known, which would be a second strike against Kitty in the eyes of many of the young men at the university, men who didn’t like being bested by a woman.
Thinking of the studious young man to her left, who probably faced his own share of snubs on campus, she said, “Mr. McCarthy, I would imagine another reason for the crowd today is students’ families coming to see the place their sons and daughters spend their days. Do you have family in San Francisco?”
“My aunt and uncle, who raised me, live in the city. My uncle is an ironmonger, and I can’t imagine him taking a day off to come listen to some speeches. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mystery to him. He doesn’t understand why I would want to study classics when the university has a perfectly good mechanical arts department.” Chad then stopped speaking and blushed.
Kitty leaned forward so she could see Chad and said, “Mr. McCarthy, your uncle and my father would get along splendidly. My father said he understood why I initially wanted to get a teaching certificate, because in his mind that would prepare me for motherhood. He’s even happy to pay for my French lessons with Professor Proctor, since he sees that will be useful when I travel through Europe this summer, so I don’t get short-changed by anyone. But once he discovered that the Latin and Greek I am learning are the so-called dead languages and won’t help me order room service or get directions to the nearest museum, he threw up his hands in despair.”
Caro envied Chad and Kitty. Their relatives may not have understood their scholarly goals, but they clearly hadn’t tried to keep them from pursuing them. Not like her own father, who would no doubt be pleased to learn that his daughter was being harassed by men who believed, as he did, that a university campus was no place for a woman.
The noise of the crowd suddenly quieted, and Caro saw that the ceremonies were about to commence. Chad whispered to her that the young man who made his way to the podium was William Storey. Caro recognized his name because he was also one of the seniors who was a member of the Zeta Psi fraternity, and therefore on her list of suspects. He was a very busy man about campus. According to last year’s Blue and Gold, he was on the rifle team, played with the Zetas’ cribbage club, sang in the class of ’81 glee club, and was a member of the class of ’81’s football team. What she couldn’t help but wonder was if he’d been one of the creators of the Stinger, the infamous Bogus Program, or one of the students who had harassed Julia Beck and Grace.
Storey introduced the speaker for the day, Professor Frank Soule, mentioning Soule’s southern heritage, his attendance at West Point Military Academy, and his role organizing the College of Civil Engineering. In Soule’s talk, he argued that the university needed to build something he called a Student Union, a place where all students could meet together as one big happy family.
Caro speculated to herself whether this was Soule’s feeble attempt to find a solution to the divisions that had wracked the student body over the past four years—divisions that had probably been made worse with the recent construction of the Zeta Psi and Chi Phi fraternity houses tha
t amplified the differences between those students, like Chad, who lived in inferior Berkeley boarding houses or had to commute the long distance from the city in order to live at home, and those students, like Ned Goodwin, who could afford to live in the new fraternity houses, with their first rate chefs, billiard rooms, and other amenities.
Perhaps Soule is right; the university needs some neutral place for male and female students to gather that isn’t the steps of North Hall.
Next up were the three students who had been chosen to give short speeches. First came Carrie Swyney, one of the junior women, who read her essay on Queen Elizabeth. Caro thought she did an excellent job of defending the queen’s decision to remain unmarried. Then came a rather pedestrian speech on Norse mythology by C. E. Sanford, a sophomore. The final essay, however, was the one that really caught Caro’s attention. Seth Mann, another senior of the infamous class of ’81, and a member of the Chi Phi fraternity, had written an essay about the duplicitous actions of the character, Iago, in Shakespeare’s Othello. He described how Iago pretended to be Othello’s friend, manipulated those around him for his own purposes, and disparaged a good woman’s name, ultimately causing her death.
Caro suddenly realized that the task Grace had given to Caro on her death bed was to discover who had been playing the role of Iago at this young university and ensure that whoever he was, he would not get the chance to perpetrate another tragedy.
“Are you and Mr. McCarthy going to stay for the dance?” Celia Beale asked Caro as they began to leave the auditorium. “I understand Ballenberg’s Band arrives in an hour, giving the decorating committee time to remove the benches. We brought a basket of food that we left in the Ladies Lounge, and we thought, given how nice the day is, we could have a sort of picnic on the lawn.”
Kitty added, “I had my cook pack enough for Laura and Ned Goodwin, but since neither of them are coming, there will be plenty of food.”
Caro, who would normally never agree to attend a dance on purpose, didn’t want to spoil poor Chad’s fun, so she said, “That would be delightful, wouldn’t it, Chad? I am sorry to hear that Mr. Goodwin won’t make it.”
Caro would find a way to excuse herself soon after the dance started and rationalized that the last statement about Ned Goodwin wasn’t strictly false, since she would have found it interesting to see how he reacted to her presence. That might have revealed whether or not he’d heard about the “little jokes” that had been played on her the past two days.
Chad enthusiastically agreed, and the four of them made their way up the path towards South Hall. They could hear a number of the people around them comment on the almost-completed Bacon Hall, the new art and library building, which was indeed imposing. Made of red brick, the side you could see from the path was two stories, with the tall clock tower in the center. The three-story rotunda on the western side was even more striking, and Caro looked forward to when the building would be open for students to tour.
Chad went into South Hall with Kitty and Celia to fetch the lunch basket, while Caro stood in front of the building, looking west to the Golden Gate at the far side of the bay. The sun was warm enough that she was glad she hadn’t worn her coat, which was still wet from her attempts yesterday to remove the ink stain. She slowly breathed in the slightly salt-tinged air and tried to release the tension that had been building steadily over the past three days. She was sorry that Laura wasn’t here, but she did appreciate the chance to get to know Laura’s friends better.
Just this little interaction with Miss Beale explained why Celia got on Laura’s nerves. The girl was definitely mealy mouthed. She’d felt the need to apologize for Ned Goodwin’s absence, going on about how he had promised to meet his father, the Judge, before the ceremony started, so he would be sitting with him, up front with the other dignitaries, and then meeting his fraternity brothers at Bachman’s for lunch.
From what Laura had shared with her, Celia surely knew that Ned was too cowardly to introduce her, or Kitty Blaine for that matter, to his father and that Bachman’s restaurant was the nearest place to campus where a student could get beer.
“Miss Sutton? I’ve been looking for you. Where is Miss Dawson? I need to speak to her as well.”
Caro turned around and found herself being confronted by Miss Sephronia Sinclair, who was in full mourning, from the tip of the black feathers in her bonnet to the black silk parasol she leaned on.
Trying not laugh at the woman’s dramatic tone, Caro said, “Miss Sinclair, I am afraid that Miss Dawson is not on campus today. I believe when we met at the Neolaean Society meeting last January, you were in the company of Mr. Caulfield. Let me say I was sorry to hear of your friend’s death, although I was unaware there was a family connection between the two of you as well.”
Caro knew this was cruel, but it seemed somehow presumptuous of this young woman to claim full mourning state for a young man, who, by all reports, she had only recently met.
“We were engaged, Miss Sutton. And I wish to tell you and your friend, Miss Dawson, that you must stop spreading rumors about my darling boy. He did not take his own life. He had no reason to do so, and it is unforgivable for you to suggest otherwise. While he was understandably sad about your cousin’s death, he was not despondent. Not at all! He had everything to live for. We loved each other, had since last summer, and he was deliriously happy because I had agreed to marry him as soon as he obtained my father’s blessing.”
Caro simply stared for a moment, unable to think of what to say. The physical resemblance between Elliot Sinclair and his sister, both fair-haired with light-blue eyes and long lashes, was striking. However, if Elliot Sinclair was half the imbecile his sister seemed to be, then she had to quickly revise her opinion that he might have been the brains behind the harassment of Grace last fall.
Apparently taking her silence as somehow dissent, Miss Sinclair started to restate her arguments as to why Willie Caulfield could not have committed suicide, until Caro interrupted, saying, “Miss Sinclair, I’m confused. Last summer, my cousin was engaged to Mr. Caulfield. In fact, he proposed to her right before she left to go home at the end of spring term. Are you saying that at the same time Mr. Caulfield had started a relationship with you, unbeknownst to his fiancée or your parents?”
The young woman’s cheeks flushed, and she stammered out, “No…yes…you must understand. When my brother brought him home for dinner at the beginning of the summer, it was love at first sight…for both of us. However, Willie didn’t know that I felt the same way about him as he did for me. When he did discover our mutual love, he didn’t know how to tell your cousin. He was afraid that she was too fragile to handle the knowledge that their love was no more. It turns out he was right to worry because when she found out, she was so upset she had to leave school. Willie felt just terrible about this, but he couldn’t hide his love for me any longer.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sinclair, but you were very much mis-informed if you were told that it was Mr. Caulfield who ended the engagement. It was my cousin who did so, and she did not leave school because she was broken-hearted over the end of a relationship with a man she could no longer respect.” Caro stopped before she said anything else, upset at having let this ninny make her so angry.
“Well, I can assure you that Willie wasn’t broken-hearted, either. In fact, he was blissfully happy as we planned our future together.”
Caro replied, trying hard to achieve a more moderate tone, “Again, Miss Sinclair, let me say how sorry I am for your loss. I also want to assure you I would be relieved to learn that Mr. Caulfield did not deliberately take his own life. You were, I believe, on the camping trip with him.”
“Yes, I was on that ill-fated trip. Willie was so excited that we were going to be able to spend that time together…although I hadn’t quite understood how difficult it would be to keep up on the trail. And of course Willie went on ahead with Elliot and his other friends.”
“But he was in good spirits? Not worried about anyt
hing? For example, not concerned about how your parents were going to react to the discovery that you had contracted a secret engagement.”
Again the tell-tale blush as the young woman fiddled with the black ribbons on her bonnet. “Why should he be worried? Elliot promised he would bring father around if there were any objections. Has someone said something to the contrary? That Helen Gompertz can be such a gossip. She had the impertinence to say that Willie was unkind when I asked him to walk behind with me. But he apologized right away, said he was out of sorts because of a conversation that had happened right before he left campus. Said he had a problem to solve, but that I shouldn’t be concerned.”
“Oh dear, did he say what happened to upset him?”
“No, he did not. And I don’t know what you are suggesting. I told you. He wasn’t unhappy. In fact, Saturday he appeared quite carefree. Said he’d figured out what he needed to do. He was quite jolly that evening. That is why it is so unfair for anyone to say otherwise. He loved me, and he had everything to live for!”
And with that Miss Sinclair burst into tears.
Chapter 32
Wednesday mid-day, March 23, 1881
San Francisco
“Infants’ Outfit: 1 piece Linen Diaper-$1.75…1 Rubber Diaper-$.25.” Bloomingdale’s Illustrated 1886 Catalog
“It’s very simple, Annie; I will tell Celia that she needs to find somewhere else to room, as soon as the term is over. She already knows the original plan—that she and I would move up to the attic to take over Miss Minnie and Miss Millie’s rooms—is not going to work.” Laura walked over to the table by the bay window and made a place for the large package she’d carried upstairs.
Scholarly Pursuits Page 22