Lora hurried down to the kitchen and prepared a tray, as she had that night when she had waited for him so late. When she carried it upstairs she saw that the door of the new sitting room was open and a lamp had been lit within.
Wade sat in an old but comfortable chair which Peter had brought down from the attic and he was looking about the room with the air of a stranger who had come into a foreign country and found everything about him unfamiliar. Lora drew up a small table and set the tray upon it.
“Of course the room isn’t right yet,” she said cheerfully as she filled his cup. “So far I’ve furnished it with odds and ends, but if it proves a useful place, perhaps we can add some new pieces and make it really comfortable.”
He said nothing and she could not tell what he was thinking or feeling.
“Tell me more about your trip,” she said. “What is the war news in Washington?”
He stirred his tea thoughtfully. “Since the middle of the month Lee’s armies have been on the march. They’ve crossed the Potomac and moved into Pennsylvania. An attack on Harrisburg is feared, but I gather that Meade’s army is being brought in to stop him. All possible men are being sent from this area to Union support.”
“Of course we’ll stop him,” Lora said.
Wade looked grave. “It’s terrible to be helpless. Seeing matters as I do now, I know how badly every man is needed. I ought to be in there with my company.”
She sat very still in her place by the window, finishing her own cup of tea. The breeze had died out and the heat was growing oppressive. The hot brew made her warmer still and she fanned herself with a handkerchief, wishing she could find words of comfort for Wade. They both knew he could never go back.
“Edgar Lord was home for two days,” she told him. “He left to join his men in Pennsylvania yesterday. Serena is terribly afraid he’ll be caught in some big battle. But she keeps up wonderfully. She’s always planning something to keep us all busy.”
“She has cause to be worried,” Wade said. But Lora knew that he was regretting his own inability to make a contribution like Edgar’s.
A little while later he said good night and went off to bed. When he had gone Lora replaced the tea things on the tray and then stood for a moment looking about the room. All trace of those other days was gone. She had even had a paper hanger in to put up something new in a pleasant yellow-green pattern. There was no longer the faintest scent of rose leaves, and all the mustiness had given way to the fresh odor of the outdoors. But perhaps the memory of Virginia must always haunt this room. There was no way of knowing how Wade felt about it. Where he had once revealed his feelings so easily, he now concealed them and she never knew what he was thinking.
She lay awake for a long time that night, turning restlessly in the humid heat, unable to sleep.
XXVIII
A hush seemed to lie upon New York those first days of July. 1863 had seen continuous Union defeat, and now somewhere in Pennsylvania a great battle might be raging. Lee had taken Chambersburg and York, and it seemed that Harrisburg might be next in his line of attack. The North held its breath uneasily while rumors and counterrumors alternately afrighted and encouraged.
Soon after daylight on July 4 church bells began to ring. There was the firing of cannon and the explosion of fire crackers announcing a victory for the North. By July 5 fragmentary news began to seep through. The battle had not, after all, reached Harrisburg. Pickett’s men had charged the Union line along Cemetery Ridge near a little place called Gettysburg, and it appeared that one of the great, decisive battles of the war had been fought. The victory had been complete and crushing. Lee’s army of Northern Virginia was shattered, disorganized, routed.
The crescendo of excitement in the North mounted to delirium. The North’s diet had been the bitter bread of defeat for too long. Now people threw restraint aside and gave way to wild rejoicing. Men and women cried and embraced each other in the streets. Surely this ended the rebellion! The South could not fight on! The war would be over in a few weeks! There were wiser heads who were less sure, less hopeful, but who listened to them?
So excited was New York over the battle of Gettysburg that it hardly noticed the surrender of Vicksburg which opened the Mississippi to the North. New York’s concern with the fighting in Pennsylvania was understandable, since almost to a man army and militia had been dispatched to stop Lee’s army. Only a handful of police remained to protect New York. A sober few of New York’s citizens feared the possibility of attack in this undefended moment, but for the most part everyone was too busy shooting off firecrackers and otherwise indulging in emotional release over victory to trouble about such forebodings.
Even Dogwood Lane decided to celebrate in its own modest way. A supper party and beach bonfire was decided upon and Serena Lord was almost feverishly active in working out the plans. Since Edgar had gone off to Pennsylvania, Serena had not heard from him. Lora knew that she was more worried than ever before and that these plans for a celebration party were an effort to keep herself busy and occupied.
Rain spoiled the first date set for the party and it was moved ahead to Monday, the 13th of July. It had been a week since the battle of Gettysburg, a week since Vicksburg, but feeling in the North still ran high. Now, however, most families were beginning to look with dread and anxiety to the return of the soldiers. Who would come, who would be left? By now it was known that the slaughter on both sides had been terrible. If one meant to celebrate victory, perhaps it was well to do so quickly and not wait for the next weekend.
On Saturday, in a surprise move, the Provost Marshal of New York gave the order which put the draft into effect. Crowds turned out about the draft offices that day, but there was no violence and the tone of the newspapers was optimistic. All would be done in an orderly, lawful fashion, they promised, and on Sunday the good citizens of the town relaxed.
Monday morning Adam Hume stopped by at the Tylers’ to see if Wade wanted to go over to New York to witness this historic event and get an idea of how people were taking it. Wade was eager to go. Lora knew he had worried on Saturday when the draft started and that he feared trouble. He and Adam promised to be home in plenty of time for the supper party at the beach.
The party was to consist of a small gathering of those who lived on or near the lane and the children were coming too. That afternoon Ellie packed a hamper with a good lunch and Peter drove Lora, Jemmy and Hamlin out to Serena’s favorite stretch of beach on the South Shore. The Lord carriage led the way carrying Serena, Hester Wylie and Serena’s two boys. Morgan rode in her own carriage, attended by Rebecca, who was to help prepare and serve the food that evening.
Jemmy had not forgotten that the next day was Lora’s birthday and during the drive to the beach he brought the matter up again.
“I reminded Papa last week,” he told her, “and he said we could have a special dinner party for just us tomorrow night. You don’t think he’ll forget, do you?”
Lora smiled. “Thank you, Jemmy, but I don’t think this is the time to worry your father about such matters. Grownups don’t have to have birthday celebrations.”
“You do,” Jemmy said. “This is your very first birthday at our house and I’ve already made you a present.”
She squeezed his hand and said they would talk about it later.
They all reached the beach by late afternoon of the gray and muggy day. The place of Serena’s choice was a quiet spot, with no bathhouses to mar the stretch of sand sloping down from the beach grass of a high bank, and no other bathers to disturb their privacy. Clean water creamed over the lower reaches of sand and there was driftwood aplenty for the building of a fire.
The three boys undressed in the bushes and got into their striped bathing suits at once. Then, admonished by their elders not to go into deep water, they went splashing in and out of the surf.
“Come with us, Lorie,” Jemmy pleaded, so Lora removed her shoes and stockings and ran down to the water’s edge to cool her feet in the cl
ear green ripples. Whiskers and Hamlin tore up and down, barking and making wild forays into this interesting wetness. The sun was obscured by a thin haze and the air hung heavy and still with the oppressive heat.
Up on the beach the others had found a sheltered spot beside a grassy hummock where they spread out blankets and hampers, set up camp. Serena, Hester and Lora had worn old dresses without hoops, so they might be comfortable and careless of their clothes. But Morgan, as usual, had gowned herself more stylishly. She too had dispensed with hoops, but she wore flounced white muslin over crinolines and carried a ruffled parasol to shield her complexion from the glare. With the contrast of her dark hair and eyes, white seemed as dramatic on her as black. Lora noted a nervous tension about her today, as if she were keyed to a high pitch.
As Lora stood watching the gulls which soared above the water, Hamlin ran suddenly toward her, shaking himself vigorously, so that water sprayed in every direction. Laughing, Lora dashed for safety, almost bumping into Rebecca, who was coming toward her across the sand.
“How are you, Rebecca?” Lora asked. She had hardly seen the colored girl since she had returned to work for Morgan Channing, though she had inquired about her several times through Ambrose.
For once Rebecca did not quickly veil her dark eyes, but returned Lora’s look almost shyly, accepting her friendship.
“I’m fine, Miss Lora,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to say thank you for helping me like you did.”
“I helped very little,” Lora told her. “But I’m glad everything is turning out well.”
Rebecca threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the preoccupied women up the beach, then turned back hurriedly.
“There’s a thing I’ve been wanting to tell you, Miss Lora. I’m hoping to marry Jeb soon as we can work things out.”
“That’s wonderful!” Lora cried. “I’m very happy for you, Rebecca.”
The colored girl threw another quick look in Morgan’s direction. “Mrs. Lord sent me down to tell the boys they’d better scoot around now and get driftwood for the fire.” Then she added under her breath, “Mrs. Channing—she doesn’t know yet. I—I don’t rightly know how to tell her, or what she’lll likely do when she hears.”
“You’re free to do as you please,” Lora assured her. “The way things look now, the war should be over soon. And then your mother and sister will be able to come North if they like. And you needn’t work for Mrs. Channing one minute more than you want to.”
She paused to deliver Serena’s message to the boys and they went scampering in three directions, picking up bits of wood as they ran, the dogs leaping after them. Rebecca reached for a stick of wood too, apparently anxious to avoid the appearance of any confidential talk with Lora.
“She’ll make trouble for me if I try to leave,” she said softly. “I don’t know why, but it seems like she wants to keep me working for her no matter what.”
Again Lora found herself puzzling over that. Of course it was Morgan’s temperament to fight for anything of which she was balked. But there had seemed something more here, something which Rebecca too had sensed.
A sudden neighing came from the road near which the carriages had been left and the horses tethered. There was a sound of jangling harness and the “Whoa!” of a cabby.
“That must be Herbert,” Hester Wylie said, getting up to brush sand from the lap of her dress and tidy her windblown hair. “He said he’d leave the office early and come out in a cab.”
Herbert, Lora knew, worked for the gas company on the island.
“Or it could be Murray,” Morgan said, and Lora sensed the uneasiness in her voice. She did not sound as if she were too eager to see Murray Norwood.
The shrubbery which overhung the little-used path to the beach parted and Herbert came through, followed by Adam Hume. When she saw Adam, Lora ran barefooted up the beach in his direction. His appearance was alarming. He wore a shabby, workman’s jacket and one sleeve was partly torn from the armhole. Both men looked grave and concerned.
Lora reached Adam out of breath. “Wade? Where is he?”
Adam glanced toward the little camp. “Then he’s not here? I thought he might have arrived before I did. No matter—hell undoubtedly be along later, unless he has gone straight home.”
“What has happened?” Lora cried. “Has there been an accident?”
He shook his head and looked at Herbert as if for help. Hester’s husband dropped onto the blanket beside his wife.
“The expected trouble over the draft has started,” he said.
Morgan leaned toward Herbert, her frivolous parasol shadowing her face. “They’re going to stop it, aren’t they?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Herbert told her. “But there are rumors of trouble here on the island. However, Adam’s been over in the city—he can tell us much more. There’s no use trying to keep this from the ladies, Adam.”
Alarm shivered through Lora. “Adam, tell us what has happened!”
“Sit over here, Lora,” he said, “and make yourself comfortable. It’s a long story, but you needn’t look so frightened. Wade and I got separated in the crowd and I couldn’t find him again. We went over together this morning, as you know, and took a car uptown until we had to leave it because of the crowds. Rioting had begun around the draft office at Forty-sixth and Third. I heard threats to the effect that the mob meant to burn every draft office in New York. Wade and I hung around on the outskirts for a time without being molested, but tempers were getting ugly and anyone who was decently dressed seemed to be marked for attention.”
“Who made up the crowd?” Herbert asked.
“I think it started with the criminal element, which doesn’t want to be caught by the draft. But this sort of thing is contagious and it is spreading like wildfire.” He glanced at Morgan. “If there was any leadership to start with, it’s been lost sight of by now.”
“But the police—?” Serena asked.
Adam shrugged. “What can a handful of police do against the thousands who are rioting? Remember, even the militia is still in Pennsylvania. The mob has begun to feel its own power and that’s a dangerous thing.”
“When I left, shops had begun to close here on the island,” Herbert said. “Though I’ve heard of no real outbreaks as yet.”
Serena glanced nervously toward the place where the boys, with the help of Rebecca, Peter, and her own coachman, were piling up wood for the bonfire that was to celebrate Union victory.
“Perhaps we should go home at once,” she suggested.
“No need for that,” Adam said. “The island is quiet enough, and no mobs are likely to storm Dogwood Lane. If there is any trouble, we’ll be better off traveling after dark.”
“But you haven’t told us how you lost Wade,” Lora pleaded.
“That was this afternoon. By that time fire bells were clanging constantly, though I’m afraid the firemen weren’t doing too much toward putting out the fires. In some cases their sympathies are with the rioters. They aren’t willing to fight when they are interfered with. We couldn’t get a cab or car to head for home, though we saw several horsecars abandoned in their tracks, while the drivers joined the mob that was pulling passengers off and robbing them. There’s no law to protect anyone now.”
Adam glanced toward Rebecca, who was heaping wood on the rising pile, and lowered his voice.
“Part of the mob’s destructive temper is being directed at the unfortunate colored people. The minds of the ignorant have been inflamed against the Negro because of the fear that the cheap labor of freedom will take away their jobs. I’m afraid there may be lynchings before this thing is put down. In fact, that’s how Wade and I got involved with the crowd. And that’s when we saw Norwood too.”
Morgan had been listening intently. Now she put her parasol down with a sharp little click and tossed it aside. But she said nothing.
“There was plenty of drink in the crowd by afternoon and its blood lust was up. Burning buildi
ngs wasn’t so much fun as finding human quarry. When Wade and I came on this howling pack it was on the heels of a Negro who was running for his life. He’d been caught and beaten, but he’d twisted away and was running straight into our hands. Wade thinks fast and he saw the one spot we could dive for before the crowd was on us—the side door of a warehouse, opening on an alley. We got through it with the colored man between us and shot the bolt before the crowd could decide where we’d disappeared to. By the time they found that door we’d made it to the other side of the building and slipped onto a cross street. A woman saw us from a window and beckoned, so we popped into her house and let the mob howl by.”
Adam grimaced wryly and ran a finger around his shabby collar.
“That’s when we shed our gentleman’s clothes and got ourselves into something less conspicuous. The woman who gave us shelter had worked on the Underground in the old days and she was indignant over what was happening. We left our colored friend hiding in her attic and slipped out through the back door onto another alley. The crowd was out on the street, but it had found a new interest. Luckily I’d found a cap to cover my red hair. We managed to melt into the ranks and allow ourselves to be swept along, waiting for a chance to break away.”
“You said you saw Murray,” Morgan reminded him.
“That’s right. And he did us no good. He was up on a balcony trying to make some sort of speech, and when he saw Wade he began to shout and point. I suppose he was trying to incite the crowd in our direction. However, it looks like this Circle business has backfired on its instigators. Certainly they’re not in the lead as they expected to be. There were some boys with pickaxes breaking up a section of pavement so they’d have more ammunition to throw and when they spotted Murray they chucked a few rocks at him and he ducked inside. I expect New York will be too hot for him now and he’ll go back to Albany where he came from.
“It was right after this that Wade and I got separated. He couldn’t move as fast as I could when Norwood pointed us out. I saw him stumble and fall, but when I tried to get back to him I was carried along without a chance of reaching him. Later I climbed up on a wall where I could see better. He was up again, but he went away from me around a corner, and after that I lost him for good. I hunted for a while, but there was nothing to do but get downtown again where it was quieter and take the ferry home, hoping he’d be here ahead of me.”
The Quicksilver Pool Page 34