Beyond All Price

by Carolyn Poling Schriber

  “What saved Belle and me both for the moment was being able to share our anger. We assured each other we would be better off without our respective men. We did pretty well, for a time. But at the end of the performance season, my work was cut, and it was obvious Belle would not be rehired. She fell into a great despondence. She was too fragile to do heavy work, too pretty to be trusted, too weak to stand up for herself. One horrible greasy man offered her a position as his mistress, but the prospect actually made her gag.

  “One day I came home from work to find Belle unconscious, lying dressed all in white on her bed. I detected a heartbeat and shallow breaths and ran for help. I was finally able to summon a local doctor, who spotted the evidence Belle had taken an overdose of opium. He shrugged her off, suggesting I put her feet in some hot water to revive her.

  “Another boarder in the house, a more practical Irishman, sprang to the rescue by forcing her to drink something that caused vomiting. When she recovered, Belle decided she might as well become what everyone thought she was. With the last bit of her savings she bought passage to New York City, hoping to pass herself off as an actress, but willing to become a prostitute if that was what it took. And, as I said, I never heard from her again.”

  “It’s a tragic story, no doubt,” Reverend Browne commented. “And it soundly condemns our society, which has no means of protecting such a young girl. I sincerely regret what happened to Miss Morgan. But what has all this to do with you?”

  “We saved her life, but for me, her near-death was a life-changing experience.”

  “What do you mean?” Colonel Leasure asked. This was a part of the story he had not heard.

  “Well, for a moment, when I saw Belle all laid out on the bed, I envied her. I even wished I could lie down beside her and join her in death. That shocks you, I suppose.”

  “No, actually it doesn’t. I’ve seen your willingness to die before, both on board the Ocean Queen and when you were ill in Hilton Head.”

  “My willingness to die? Yes, I suppose that’s where it began. My life was hard back then, and, living where we did in Pittsburgh, the possibility of death was never far removed. We were surrounded by poverty, disease, and a culture of drug use. Our neighbors were rats, starving children, and villainous thugs. Even the air we breathed was poisonous with coal smoke and the stench of garbage. Belle’s white dress was a symbol of a better life to come, and its promise was enticing.”

  “So, what stopped you?” Reverend Browne asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the whole episode.

  “Her death would have been pointless.” Nellie stopped, turning her eyes to look far away at something neither man could see. “I don’t expect to live a long life, nor do I fear death. But I do fear leaving nothing behind to show I was here—or that my life mattered.”

  “A pretty sentiment. But you have glossed over the rest of your own story, haven’t you? What have you done about your own marriage?”

  “If it ever was a marriage,” Nellie said. “I immediately wrote to Otis, reminding him I came from a genteel and highly-respected family. I was raised to have high standards and even higher morals. But ever since I met Otis, I had been sinking deeper and deeper into his own shady underworld, and I hated it. I told him plainly I no longer considered myself married to him, and he should never try to contact me again. I even kept a copy of the letter to protect myself. I’ll show it to you, if you wish.”

  “And you haven’t heard from him again?”

  “Only once. He wrote to tell me he had joined the Second Ohio Cavalry as a musician in the regimental band. Whether he is still with them or not, I could not say. I really doubt he will last long as a soldier. You can check if you like, as long as you don’t let him know where I am. He has a long memory when it comes to revenge.”

  “And you?” Colonel Leasure asked. “Have you been able to put your experiences behind you?”

  “That’s why I joined the Twelfth Regiment and then the Roundheads, Sir. I saw what had happened to Belle, and I feared for my own end. When she finally gave in to the temptation to use her . . . uh, her assets . . . to support herself, I realized I could easily do the same thing. But I did not want to continue down that dangerous path. Coming to work for the regiment was not only safe. It offered a way to make myself into the kind of person I wanted to become. I’m helping people, I’m supporting a cause I believe in strongly, and I’m taking an active role in determining my own fate. If I die as an army nurse, it will mean I gave my life in service to my country. I would like to leave that small mark on history, and I don’t want to give up that possibility.”

  “No one will ever ask you to, Nellie. Not under my watch.” The colonel stood, indicating the end of the discussion. Reverend Browne had nothing further to add.

  ggg

  19

  Family Visits

  Nellie had little time in February to contemplate what had transpired during her interview with Colonel Leasure and Reverend Browne. Slightly warmer weather seemed to bring out the travel lust in the northern troops stationed in and around Hilton Head. Beaufort was a prime destination, thanks at least in part to members of the Roundheads Regiment, who were not above bragging about the comfortable situation in which they found themselves. Their letters described luxurious plantation houses used as their quarters and a bounty of foodstuffs that far surpassed the usual Army fare. Even the Camp Kettle bragged about their surroundings:

  We are sitting before our open windows, in one of the deserted palaces, surrounded by shrubbery green as the leaves of June and the air filled with the perfume of roses that bloom in beauty all around us. As we write, two vases filled with flowers of every color, gorgeous as the dreams of fairy land, stand before us, and their graceful and brilliant hues seduce our eyes. Ah! ‘land of the sunny South,’ where summer lingers in the lap of winter, and impatient spring, with hurrying steps resumes her reign of roses. Eden was scarce more fair.

  Such descriptions were irresistible to men who had been in Army camps too long. A steady stream of visitors turned up in Beaufort, knocking on doors at mealtimes in hopes of being invited to share in the bounty. One such group from the Forty-Eighth New York Regiment arrived at the Leverett House one day at the beginning of the month. There were six of them, two nurses, two lieutenants, and two captains, one of whom happened to be the son of Chaplain Strickland, who served the Hilton Head troops. They brought with them a letter of introduction from the chaplain and arrived around 9:00 a.m., all of them starved because they had come up on the morning mail packet without having had breakfast.

  Nellie invited them in and set the slave women to preparing breakfast for them. She also invited them to return for dinner. That impromptu meal caused her to be late making her usual rounds of the hospital next door, and set Reverend Browne off into another fit of temper. He wrote to his wife:

  I don’t enjoy what some people call social life. If that means to have your time invaded, the sacred quiet of all you have for a home turned into the din and bustle of a caravanserai, and your table surrounded and your provisions eaten by uninvited and unwelcome, because intensely selfish, intruders, who don the hallowed name of guests, then do I hate social life with a most hearty hatred.”

  If that visit had upset Reverend Browne, however, he had a more interesting one to look forward to. Colonel Leasure announced on February 3rd that the Roundheads were expecting some important Northern visitors. General Stevens’ wife, Margaret, had organized a party of family members who were on their way to cheer up their menfolk. In the traveling party were Isabel Leasure and her three younger children, two wives of company commanders in the Hundredth Pennsylvania, and Willie Browne, Robert’s eleven-year-old son.

  “Is that kind of travel safe?” Nellie asked.

  “General Stevens assures us there will be no military actions in the Sea Islands until we are ready to attack Fort Pulaski and Savannah, Georgia, sometime in late April or May. Weather at sea is good this time of year, so there should be no hind
rance to their passage. Nellie, we’ll need to talk about arrangements this afternoon.”

  “Of course, Sir. I’ll be eager to get started.”

  Reverend Browne cocked a doubtful eyebrow at her statement, but he made no comment.

  Later that day, Nellie and the colonel met in his office. “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “You don’t need to do anything special for my family. They’ll be so overjoyed to be here they won’t notice if the walls fall in.”

  “But sleeping arrangements?”

  “That, yes. I’m asking Reverend Browne to move back in here permanently. Having him camped out at the hospital is an unnecessary demonstration of his disapproval, and it should have ended weeks ago. He and Willie will share the west bedroom upstairs. We’ll move a couple of trundle beds into my room for my two youngest children. Jimmy is old enough that he and Geordy can move out onto the sleeping porch. We’ll sling a couple more hammocks for them out there. Jimmy adores his older brother, and he’ll be delighted with the arrangement. And that should about do it for here. The other travelers will be staying with their own family members.”

  “Should we plan a bit of a welcoming party for everyone? I’m sure the staff will want to meet Mrs. Leasure, and it might be easier for her to get that sort of thing over all at once. Then you and she can have some private time without other folks barging in.”

  “As usual, you have good ideas, Nellie. They are scheduled to arrive next Saturday, so perhaps we could have Open House on Sunday afternoon—even invite the Stevens’ party and the other women who traveled with her. Or am I letting this get out of hand?”

  “No, Sir. It’s no trouble. We’ll serve a genteel fruit punch rather than that lethal syllabub that brewed itself during the Christmas party.”

  Colonel Leasure laughed. “You seem in good spirits, Nellie. How are you, really? Here, sit down for a moment. Have you fully recovered from that grilling we gave you over your past?”

  “You know? I think it may have been the best thing you could have done. I’d been hiding my past for a long time, and the more I tried to hide it, the more guilty it made me feel. Once I said all those things out loud, I discovered the ground was not going to open up and swallow me after all. It’s been a tremendous relief.”

  “I’m glad. Once he was confronted by the facts, even Robert quit being suspicious of you. We all have done things we’re not proud of. The trick, I think, is to get over feeling ashamed of the past so we can move forward.”

  “And I’m trying to do exactly that. You may not have realized it, but right after the Christmas disaster, I was ready to pack my bag and run as far away from here as I could. Bessie the cook and Mary Pollack talked me out of headlong flight, but it took a while to completely suppress the urge to run away. Your belief in me gave me a reason to stay.” Nellie stopped to take a deep breath and straighten her shoulders. “I have a job to do here. I’d better get to it.”

  “Wait. One more thing. I’ve been thinking about your situation. Have you considered starting to use your maiden name again?”

  “Oh! No, I hadn’t. What makes you suggest it?”

  “Well, every time somebody calls you ‘Mrs. Leath’, you are reminded of the past you are trying to escape. Besides that, both Reverend Browne and I have, as you know, been trying to follow up on the details of the story you’ve told us. I can assure you, now, no record exists of a marriage between you and Otis Leath in the state of Maine. And because you moved frequently from state to state, it would be impossible to make a case for a common law marriage. You are free, Nellie. You always have been.”

  “But how can I do that? A woman can’t just go around changing her name when it suits her, can she?”

  “You did when you eloped with Otis, even though you had no proof of a marriage that would have made the change legal.”

  “But everyone knows me as Mrs. Leath.”

  “Stop ‘but-ing,’ Miss Chase. We’ll announce your name change to the people with whom you come in contact every day. We’ll tell them your marriage has ended, and you are re-taking your maiden name. That’s all they need to know. Others will pick up on the change as they hear it. It won’t take long, I promise.”

  After a long pause, Nellie took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s do it. Now.”

  The family reunions that took place in the middle of February were a great success, as was the little reception Nellie planned for them. Old friends stopped by for a few minutes to welcome the visitors, but no one stayed long. Everyone seemed to realize the importance of giving their commander some free time to enjoy his family. The only unfortunate incident involved General Stevens, who arrived already well on his way to falling-down drunk. He came barreling into the Leverett House shouting, “Where’s my favorite regimental commander?” Behind him, his wife tugged ineffectually at his coat sleeve. “I want Colonel Leasure!”

  The colonel hurried to the front hall, well aware of how difficult the general could be after a few drinks. “General Stevens!” he greeted him. “Is this the lovely Margaret, whose brilliant idea has brought us all together?” He reached out to take her proffered hand, but the general interrupted him by draping an arm around his shoulder.

  “This is Daniel, Margaret. He’s the finest, most capala . . . capable . . . of all my regimental officers. I love him like a brother. And his is the finest regiment under my command. You should have seen his men at the battle we had at Coo-Coo Landing—cool, brave, ready to give no quarter.”

  “Coo-Coo Landing? Oh, you mean Coosaw Ferry. Thank you, Sir, but we were just doing our duty.”

  “Nonsense, Daniel. You were extra . . . extra-ordinan . . . uh. . . .”

  “You’re trying to say extraordinary, dear,” Mrs. Stevens whispered to him. She looked to Colonel Leasure in a silent apology, but he was busy trying to extricate himself from the general’s bear hug.

  “General, please come down to the dining room. Nellie is serving tea, and she also has some fine finger sandwiches.”

  “Tea? Finger san’iches? Can’t a man get a decent drink around here?”

  “Not right now, General. It’s a bit early for most of us. Oh, careful. Watch your step. We can’t have you tripping over a rug.”

  Despite his bluster, the general’s knees were beginning to turn to rubber, and he fell heavily over one of the dining chairs as he attempted to enter the room. There was nothing to do but to summon his aides and have them help the general home. Mrs. Stevens, following the stumbling procession, stopped to clasp Mrs. Leasure’s hand. “I’m sorry to have disrupted your party, my dear. Isaac can usually hold his liquor better than this. Unfortunately he drinks most heavily when he is happy, so our happiest celebrations often end this way.”

  “It was not a problem, Margaret. Please don’t worry about it. I hope he’ll be feeling better soon.”

  “Oh, he’ll sleep this off and wake up with a horrendous head on his shoulders. Then I’ll nurse him and pamper him, and he’ll soon be happy as a clam and ready for another round.” With a smile and a wave, Margaret hurried after her husband.

  Nellie had been watching the scene from the hall. “Poor woman,” she murmured.

  “Don’t you believe it.” Mrs. Leasure laughed, taking Nellie’s arm in her own. “Daniel has told me something of your experience with a hard-drinking man, and I can understand how you might misconstrue what you have just seen. I’m not making light of a drunken and abusive husband. But this is not one of those situations. The Stevenses have lived their entire married life this way. He drinks, she gets a chance to take care of him for a while, and they are both happy. Not every marriage founders on a husband’s weakness. Sometimes it is only a husband’s weakness that allows a woman to develop her own strengths.”

  For the rest of the visit, husbands and wives, parents and children, all reveled in their reunion, and their joy was so palpable that it spread to those around them. Daniel and Isabel were so obviously a couple that Nellie could only watch them in w
onder. In ordinary conversation, they finished each other’s sentences and sometimes chimed in with exactly the same word. They were never demonstrative in their affection, but it showed in their gestures—the way they sat facing each other, even when side by side—the silent messages that passed between their eyes without need for verbal communication.