by Lisa Prysock
“I happen to know your father is needed in D.C. soon over some important business matter. Maybe he could be persuaded to drop you at your cousin’s home on the return trip.” Uncle Justus bit into a slice of bacon.
“You are a dear friend and caring soul, Uncle. Another exciting journey is exactly what I need. ‘Tis a very good idea you propose. I shall consider it.”
Her mind darted back to Ned. Clearly, her love was unrequited, and Celia had stolen Ned Bradley from her. It wasn’t the first time her rival had intruded upon one of her love interests. It seemed anything Governor Ramsey’s daughter did somehow attracted Celia’s attention. This was the third beau Miss Johnson had stolen from her. Personally, she could not understand why or for what reason.
Ida had said she thought Celia Johnson was the perfect combination of neediness, wealth, and beauty. Her father was a lawyer like Melody’s father before he became Governor, but Ida said she was too strong and that she should try to allow gentlemen to feel far more needed and powerful.
“In the future, my dearest friend, try not to appear more than adequately self-sufficient,” Ida had warned. Being a needy, weakling of a female simply wasn’t her, but perhaps she could improve her tactics a bit and let Ned, Arthur, and Marcus be a lesson to her.
Those few lines of romantic, mushy scribbles from Ned had meant nothing. Now she understood why he hadn’t been around to call on her since she returned from Europe except for two brief, strained visits. All those excuses about him being busy with his studies to become a doctor and his father’s general store had been excuses.
She turned her attention back to Lavinia’s fine handwriting and nibbled at the leisurely breakfast, attempting to savor a few small bites of the meal along with each word from her Pennsylvania cousin. If she didn’t eat something, the maid and her uncle would lecture her. Thankfully, Uncle Justus said no more about the matter and Kitty was still busy polishing the silver in the kitchen, leaving Melody in peace.
As she read the letter a second time, she realized Lavinia, of her Jenkins maternal relations, had extended the invitation to visit their Pennsylvania home near Philadelphia for as long as she desired. Since her grand tour of Europe with Mama was complete, and they’d unpacked and settled nicely into the mansion, she figured Father might say yes. It was Mama she could never predict.
Yes, as her uncle had suggested, a change of environment might do her some good. Perhaps she’d even meet with some adventure or a new beau. She certainly wasn’t going to sit around a moment longer in St. Paul and pine away for Ned Bradbury. She’d graduated from private school in Philadelphia with her cousin and had plenty of friends and even a few admirers from the area.
Melody decided she’d tackle a reply at the writing desk in her freshly wallpapered bedroom, and then perhaps an excursion to purchase a new hat and another crinoline. The peach and pink flowers on the soft creamy white background of the wallpaper cheered her soul on the inside. She considered the kind of hat she desired as she made her way up the staircase, her hands trailing along the banister. Perhaps a lavender hat for spring and summer to go with her new lavender afternoon dress; something with lots and lots of lavender tulle, a bit of veil, and wide silk ribbon. Maybe a few silk flowers, too.
Reaching her bedroom, she closed herself in, wondering what was wrong with her. Was she as Ida had said in kind words as only a best friend could—too outgoing, vivacious, self-sufficient, independent, and intelligent—maybe? Was she pretty enough? A glance in the oval mirror in the corner beside her bureau revealed strikingly blond hair and big blue eyes staring back at her. She had plump lips, long eyelashes, nice cheekbones, and when she smiled, her eyes sparkled and lit up her whole face. Her reflection confirmed there was nothing wrong, except perhaps as Ida had said. She needed to learn how to let a man be her hero. Ned didn’t know what he was missing!
What kind of business had Father mentioned about making a journey by train to Washington, D.C.? She bit her lip as she tried to remember what he’d said at dinner last night. Wasn’t it something to do with his real estate and the sale of another townhouse? Perhaps Mama would be up to taking in some shopping in the Capital.
Sitting down at her writing desk, she swiped away a stray tear and pushed the stack of postcards and letters from Ned away from view. She’d tied them with a blue silk ribbon to keep them together, only now she wished she could tie her heart back together with that ribbon. He’d sent them to her hotel while she was touring London, and then a few more when they’d been in Paris.
“No more tears,” she whispered to herself, turning her thoughts toward the idea of visiting Washington and then her cousins in Pennsylvania.
She must find a way to convince Mother to allow her to accompany them. Most of the time, she was happy to indulge her only daughter. How could Mama refuse her a few new gowns and hats, and most of all, a chance to meet Lincoln? Honest Abe fascinated her, and especially all this talk of an impending war. While she knew her father’s main ambition would be to manage his real estate interests, politics was always included on his agenda.
Then it occurred to her she could mention a mutual mother and daughter friend or two from a previous trip to Washington some years ago. They’d met Mrs. Sibley and Mrs. Parker, both with daughters they regularly corresponded with from the area. Surely Mama would want to call upon them with Melody, if possible. She’d pen a letter to Jane Sibley and another to Lillian Parker, the daughters of some of Father’s political allies in Washington. Jane’s father was formerly a Whig and now also a member of the newly formed Republican party, like her father, Alexander Ramsey, and President Lincoln. Mama often mentioned how fond she was of Mrs. Sibley’s friendship. She wondered if Jane still hoped to become a teacher like herself as she’d written in her last correspondence some months ago.
Then too, there was the possibility Mama would want to have tea with Mary Todd Lincoln. Once in Washington, after a shopping excursion to revive her clothing, and possibly meeting President Abraham Lincoln himself, she could spend a few months with Cousin Lavinia while her heart healed. Then she’d be good as new, or so she hoped.
Chapter 2
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9, NIV
Washington, D.C., Monday morning, April 15th, 1861
* * *
Governor Ramsey sank into the comfort of his favorite chair by the warmth of the fireplace in the privacy of his library and office located on the first floor of the townhome he’d rented for the duration of their time in the nation’s busy Capital. He was anxious to read his copy of the National Republican in relative relaxation with a second cup of strong, black coffee.
Breakfast was over and he knew his wife, Anne, and daughter, Melody, would be finishing their toilette to be ready to receive morning callers. This was his chance to take in the news before the day’s business itinerary pulled him away. At the top of the list, a meeting later that afternoon with the real estate attorney he’d hired to handle the sale of a prime piece of property he was delighted to part with—and for such a fine sum, too.
He opened the newspaper and shook it out, smiling in contentment at the prospect of signing any necessary legal papers. Ordinarily, he despised signing papers and the stacks of paperwork which swamped his desk. Though an attorney himself, he was not a licensed real estate attorney in the District of Columbia. He would follow the directions of the lawyer he’d hired, who this very moment was likely arranging his schedule to accommodate his arrival.
A little paperwork to sign was merely a prelude to adding the sum to his bank account to help pay for the hefty cost of the new furniture from that fancy Manhattan furniture store his wife so dearly enjoyed. He had to admit, he approved of her taste, and he very much liked the way in which she’d filled the mansion with the very best New York had to offer in both the latest styles and comfort.
In any case, he’d been hearing and readi
ng things for the past few days since their arrival in Washington about Fort Sumter. He was anxious to see how the situation would play out since Lincoln had sent a non-hostile fleet with supplies to aid the fort. The fort, located on an island off the coast of South Carolina near the Charleston Harbor, had been enduring an assault. Then he saw the news that Sumter’s garrison commander, Major Robert Anderson, had surrendered after the bombardment rendered, courtesy of the South Carolina militia.
Then he nearly spat out his coffee as he read the headline in bold letters, Official, By the President of the United States. A colon followed this, and in all capital letters, the words, A PROCLAMATION. The article went on. “Whereas the laws of the United States have been for some time past, and now are, opposed, and the execution thereof obstructed, in the States of South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas, by combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, or by the powers vested in the marshals by law: Now, therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, in virtues of the power...”
He rapidly scanned down a few lines. Ah, here we go. War! “...and do hereby call forth, the militia of the several States of the United States of the Union, to the aggregate number of seventy-five thousand, in order to suppress said combinations, and to cause the laws to be duly executed. The details for this object...” He scanned a few more words. “...through the War Department.”
The next sentence grabbed him the most, right in his heart. “I appeal to all loyal citizens to favor, facilitate, and aid, this effort to maintain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of our national Union, and the perpetuity of popular government, and to redress wrongs already long enough endured.”
He quickly scanned the rest of the news, and satisfied with the knowledge of all that he read so that he could converse intelligently on the subject at hand, he rose from his comfortable seat. He folded the paper and set it aside with his coffee for the moment, pacing the length of the hearth as he considered what his response would be.
Not a minute later, but perhaps thirty seconds, he exited the library, throwing open the double doors, and stepped into the hall. Then he bellowed up the staircase to Anne and Melody, causing two of the maids they’d brought from Minnesota to come running out into the hall. “Anne! Melody! War has broken out! I’m headed to the White House this instant. If you want to meet Lincoln, this is the very moment.”
One maid leaned over the bannister from upstairs, having emerged from the master suite where she’d been arranging Anne’s hair, while the one downstairs came running out of the kitchen at the far end of the hall. Both maids they’d brought on the long journey from home peered at him with mouths agape.
“War?” Kitty repeated from downstairs.
Her sister, Alice, nodded as she continued to lean over the bannister, raising her voice enough for Kitty to hear below. “That’s what I thought I heard, too!”
“Alice, can you send Anne and Melody downstairs directly?” Governor Ramsey inquired as he reached for his hat and cane.
“Yes, Governor!” Alice replied as Melody emerged from her bedroom, and then Anne behind her daughter. “Ah, here they are, Sir. They’ll be right down.”
“Father, did I hear you say war has broken out?” Melody leaned over the banister in one of her finest purple day dresses, appearing ready to receive callers.
“War?” Anne breathed, clutching a handkerchief to her chest. “Mrs. Lincoln will need my support.”
“Did you want me to hail a cab down or have the carriage brought around from the livery, Sir?” The butler, Mr. Stiles, asked.
“Yes, yes,” the Governor replied to Melody. “War! We must go to the President at once.” Turning to Stiles, “Two greenbacks for you if you can have the carriage brought ‘round in less than five minutes. Anne, are you coming to meet Lincoln? Perhaps Mary will forgive the intrusion and have tea with you today.”
“Come in Governor Ramsey, come in,” the President said as his private secretary held the door to his office open.
They’d waited upstairs in the reception room with a long line of other people waiting to see the man who held the highest office in the land, but none appeared as official as Melody’s father did when she looked around. Now too, she understood why Washington’s traffic seemed worse than when she’d previously visited, and it had been bad then. Today however, was far worse.
Perhaps she was more alert to the presence of fine looking soldiers in uniform after losing Ned to Celia. But after father’s announcement, she could safely put her doubts to rest. She wasn’t imagining it. The capital indeed had an increase of soldiers pouring in with the objective of protecting the city. It had been a gallant trek worthy of remembering for their driver to navigate the carriages and fortresses springing up along the route. It also explained why restaurants and hotels were brimming with additional patrons and everywhere seemed to have such a long wait.
After the harrowing drive and the delay in the reception room, Melody found herself thankful to finally be seated beside father before the President in a pleasant room they called Lincoln’s Sitting Room. Since it was a bit chilly outside and dreary with sporadic rain showers, gray clouds casting a certain gloom on everything, she was glad to see the fireplace crackling with a warm fire. The heavy drapes around the long windows chased drafts away, and even the gas lights gave off a certain amount of warmth.
Tall and somber, the President had stood as they entered the room. He’d greeted them warmly and then sat across from them on one of the two horsehair sofas near the fireplace, setting them at ease at once.
There were several chairs about the room. These were the only items except for two desks, a bookcase, a large, round Walnut table, and a few other chairs against the wall which could be pulled up to the grouping. Lincoln seemed focused, calm, and likeable. She was surprised at how tall he was, being much taller than she’d expected.
Mama had taken the opportunity to call upon Mary Todd Lincoln, saying that if it was to be a short visit, she would take her chances. She meant to keep her promise to receive Mrs. Sibley for tea later that morning. If nothing else, she could leave a card that she’d called upon the First Lady. After all, she’d sent a letter in advance, informing her of their arrival from Minnesota.
Having yet to receive a reply, she remained hopeful Mrs. Lincoln would find her visit a welcome one under the circumstances. In the carriage, Father had handed the morning edition of the National Republican to Melody, insisting she read the appropriate articles relative to the situation as the two bay horses carried them closer to the White House. He would not have her remain ignorant of the political climate when they came face-to-face with Lincoln.
Now that she sat directly across from him, she was glad of father’s work to prepare her. Mama had been whisked away to see Mrs. Lincoln with a relieved smile at not being kept waiting too long. Melody was sure her mother’s graciousness and kindness would be a comfort and encouragement to the First Lady.
“My private secretary said you were responding to my proclamation,” Lincoln began as she looked around the sitting area and then at his desk, wondering if the President always worked in the comfortable second floor room. She could see why, if so. It was a most cozy room indeed. His desk was piled with a mountain of papers in various stacks and of all colors.
“I came as soon as I read it in the National Republican to respond to your call personally, and if you will forgive the presence of my daughter. She is acting as my secretary during our travels from Minnesota, in addition to having a strong desire to meet you. I’d not hear the end of it if I’d left her to suffice over a cup of tea with the ladies.” Governor Ramsey kept his arms and large hands resting calmly on his knees.
Lincoln gave her another warm smile as he appeared to be taking in her features. “Something about your daughter reminds me of my angel mother.” His comment made Melody smile. He was such a gentleman!
“It is an honor to me
et you, Mr. President.” Melody extended her hand and Lincoln shook it, leaving her feeling welcome rather than intrusive.
He continued to speak with a warm smile and kind eyes aimed in her direction before turning back to the Governor, father’s explanation going over well with him. “I wish I had a daughter as efficient and willing. Usually I just have Tad in here asleep on the floor, but today he is with his mother.” Turning to her again, he chuckled and added with a sly grin, “Nor would I wish to have tea with the women when we have such important matters before us.”
“Precisely,” Melody agreed, a light laugh escaping her lips as she sat up straighter on the edge of her chair. She clutched the leather portmanteau father had given her with the letter inside bearing the official Minnesota state seal, a letter he’d prepared in haste.
“How long are you in Washington, Governor Ramsey?” the President asked.
“Only another week as we are here on a business matter. Then my wife and I will be escorting our daughter to Pennsylvania to enjoy some time with family. Anne and I are both from there as you may recall. Our Melody graduated from a private school in Philadelphia. She has plans to become a teacher, and a plethora of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents waiting anxiously for a visit.”
Lincoln nodded, looking at her again. “Family is important, and Philadelphia has some of the best schools in the country. One never knows how long the Lord loans our family members to each of us.” Turning back to Governor Ramsey, Lincoln added, “I want to add, you are the first to respond to the call for militia.”
“Bully good, Sir, bully good,” her father replied enthusiastically with a nod of gratification. “The state of Minnesota will be happy to be the first then to offer a militia of one-thousand men to help put down the rebellion, Mr. President.”