by Ginny Dye
Janie nodded. “I suppose I would do the same thing,” she admitted, but there was still a stubborn expression on her face. “Have the two of you talked about your differences?”
“No. There hasn’t been time, and quite honestly, I don’t feel the need. It doesn’t reflect on what we are trying to do for Alice.”
“But can’t they get in trouble for colluding with the enemy?” Janie quipped, her eyes bright with indignation.
Carrie chuckled. “I suppose it’s possible, but that’s hardly my problem. They are the ones who came to me for help.” She finished buttoning her coat, put on her hat and gloves, and then opened the door. “Stay as long as you like. I should be home soon. Right now, all I want to do is deliver this message and then meet Mrs. Packard. I’m intrigued to see what she has to say.”
Janie nodded. “So am I. Is it okay if I’m here, too?”
Carrie grinned. “You’re willing to collude with the enemy?”
“Oh, I’m fine with it,” Janie retorted. “I believe it’s what Shakespeare was referring to when he said ‘kill them with kindness’.” She smiled. “I have nothing to feel guilty for, so I have no problem making Elizabeth feel guiltier for ending our friendship.”
Carrie laughed. “I have felt the same way,” she agreed. She waved her hand, and started toward the door. “Mrs. Packard should be here at five o’clock.” She fixed Janie with a stern look. “You are not to walk by yourself on these snowy sidewalks in the dark. I don’t care that it’s only a few houses. It’s not safe.”
Marietta’s voice sounded from the stairs. “Jeremy will be home by then. I’ll send him to get her.”
Carrie smiled with satisfaction. “Perfect! I’ll be back soon.”
*****
Carrie was privately hoping no one would be home when she arrived at Elizabeth’s house and knocked. She had prepared a note to leave on the door. Her heart sank when she heard footsteps, but she straightened her shoulders and held her head high. She was dismayed when it was Florence Robinson who opened the door, but she kept her expression neutral. “Hello, Florence.”
Florence’s blue eyes widened beneath her red curls that were as unruly as always. Her tall, angular body was rigid with surprise. “Hello, Carrie,” she murmured.
Carrie held out the note. “I came to deliver this to Elizabeth. My stepmother has arranged a meeting with a woman by the name of Elizabeth Packard tonight. She believes she will be able to assist us in helping Alice. I thought perhaps Elizabeth would like to be there.” She knew her voice was formal, but she quite simply didn’t know how to act after all that had transpired between the one-time friends.
Florence reached for the note. “Thank you.” She hesitated. “Won’t you please come in?”
Carrie shook her head. “Thank you, but I really must be going.” The forced politeness was wearing. She could still remember Florence’s blazing eyes when she attacked Carrie and Janie about their decision to attend the Homeopathic College. She turned to leave, but Florence’s next words stopped her.
“Please come in, Carrie. I really would like to speak with you.”
Carrie turned back and met her eyes evenly. “Why?”
Florence flushed, but did not look away. “Because I want to tell you how sorry I am for being such an idiot.”
Carrie continued to gaze at her as she repeated Janie’s earlier words. “Wouldn’t my coming in be considered colluding with the enemy?” She tried to keep the anger from her voice, but she knew she had failed by the way Florence flinched.
“Possibly.” Florence, in spite of her flustered face, managed to keep her voice calm. “Still, I would appreciate a chance to speak with you.”
Carrie hesitated, but finally decided she would have to face it at some point. It might as well be now. She doubted Florence, who had never been known for her tact, would do anything but heap coals on top of a still simmering fire, but Carrie would at least listen. “All right,” she said quietly.
Florence smiled with relief and held the door open wider. “I just finished preparing some tea. Will you please join me?”
Carrie nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
Florence poured the tea, sat down, and got straight to what she wanted to say. “Carrie, I was an idiot,” she said bluntly. “I wanted to come talk to you before, but I was too embarrassed.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “Why the change of heart?”
“My mother almost died last year,” Florence began. “My father and I did everything we knew to do for her, but she continued to get worse.”
Carrie remained quiet. She knew some of the remedies they would have tried, and also knew just how pointless they were.
“We were quite sure she was going to die,” Florence continued. “I love my mother deeply, so it was breaking my heart.”
Carrie felt her own heart soften with compassion. Regardless of what had transpired between them, she knew the pain of losing a loved one.
“Anyway, a close friend of Father’s told him he was being a fool to not at least try a homeopathic remedy. He ridiculed him for being too stubborn to give his wife a chance to live.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. In the past, Florence had told her enough about her physician father to know exactly how he would have reacted.
“Father was furious, of course, but he also truly loves my mother. He allowed a homeopathic physician to visit the house and treat her. Within a week, she was out of bed. She now has more energy than ever,” Florence reported.
“I’m glad,” Carrie said. “I’m sure you were greatly relieved to get your mother back.”
Florence nodded. “I was,” she agreed. “But, I also realized how my pride and arrogance had cost me two good friends.”
Carrie’s mind was on something else. “What did your father do after your mother was healed?”
“Father?” Florence smiled widely. “He is now a homeopathic physician. He completely changed his practice when he realized how much it had helped my mother.”
Carrie bit back a gasp of astonishment. “And you?” she asked.
Florence met her eyes evenly. “I am finishing at the Women’s Medical College, but only because my father and I believe there is a place for both disciplines. I think you and I would agree there are times when surgery is necessary. I want to know how to help people in that way. When I am done, my father and I are going into practice together. I am studying homeopathy on my own while I finish school.”
Carrie stared at her with surprise, and then smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Florence leaned forward. “Carrie, can you ever forgive me?”
Carrie searched for words. She knew she should offer open-hearted forgiveness, but something was holding her back. “How does Elizabeth feel about what you’ve done?”
Florence shrugged, and sat back with a disappointed expression. “Elizabeth and I have agreed to disagree,” she replied. “She had much the same reaction to me that she had to you in the beginning, but we finally decided we had already lost too much by our stubbornness. We didn’t want to lose anymore. We decided that, as women, we didn’t have to follow the dictates of men. We will never agree with everyone in life, but that doesn’t mean we need to destroy relationships because of our differences.”
“I see,” Carrie murmured, moved by the words despite herself.
“I am so very sorry,” Florence murmured. “So very… very sorry.”
There was something in Florence’s voice that melted the last reserve in Carrie’s heart. Her face broke into a genuine smile. “And you promise to never be so stupid again?”
“I do!” Florence breathed, hope blazing in her eyes. “Will you forgive me?”
“I will,” Carrie said softly. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
“Not as much as I’ve missed you!” Florence cried.
The two friends stood and embraced.
When they stepped back, tears shining in both their eyes, Florence pointed toward the seat. “Will you please sit bac
k down and tell me what has been going on in your life? How is Janie? And Robert?”
Carrie looked away a moment. “Robert is dead.”
Florence gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “What? Robert is dead? How is that possible?”
Carrie stared down at her cup of tea. “He was killed by vigilantes on our plantation, almost twenty months ago.”
Florence was shaking her head slowly. “Carrie, I’m so very sorry. I didn’t know.”
Carrie didn’t feel the need to point out that she couldn’t have known since she had ended their friendship. She decided to reveal it all since it would come out at some point. “I was seven months pregnant,” she continued. “My daughter was stillborn a few minutes after Robert died.” She managed to keep her voice calm, but she couldn’t help the tears filling her eyes.
Florence reached forward to grab her hands. “Carrie…”
Carrie suddenly realized how much she had missed her fiery, red-headed friend. “I had a rough year,” she stated, “but I have somehow found a way to move forward with my life.” There was so much to talk about, but it would come out in stages.
Florence seemed to understand what she was feeling as she changed the subject. “And how is Biddy? I think of her often. Both Elizabeth and I do.”
Carrie smiled sadly. “Biddy is gone, too. She was ninety-eight when she died last January.” Her voice softened. “Faith and I were with her when she took her last breath. She was at peace.”
“No,” Florence whispered, deep regret filling her eyes. “So, because I destroyed my friendship with you, I missed spending more time with a fabulous woman before she died.”
Carrie remained silent, but she squeezed Florence’s hands. She understood the regret of decisions made too late. “I’m actually here doing something for Biddy.”
“Oh?” Florence’s voice was thick with pain.
Carrie explained Biddy’s last request. “I am starting the clinic in Moyamensing. A fellow student at the Homeopathic College will take it over when it is up and running smoothly.”
“You’re done with school already?” Florence asked. “How is that possible?”
Carrie flushed and explained Dr. Strikener’s decision. “I spent most of last year on the Santa Fe Trail, and at an internment camp for the Navajo Indians called Bosque Redondo. It fulfilled the requirement for my degree.”
Florence stared at her with astonishment. “My heavens!” she stated in an awed voice. “So much has happened to you…” She frowned. “My life has been quite boring by comparison.”
“Hardly,” Carrie assured her. “You almost lost your mother, and you’re getting ready to take a stand against the entire medical establishment by going into business with a homeopathic physician. You’ll be glad life has been a little boring once you jump into the middle of that maelstrom!”
Florence laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Carrie, I’ve missed you so much.” Her eyes darkened. “My heart breaks for you about Robert and your daughter.”
“Thank you,” Carrie whispered. “There is not a day that goes by when I don’t miss them, and wonder what life would have been like if they were still alive, but I’ll never know. I wanted to die for a long time, but I finally chose to live. I’m trying to make the best of it, and there are increasing moments when I feel genuine joy.” She shook her head and changed the subject. “I really do have to get back. There is some paperwork I need to do for the clinic, and then Mrs. Packard will be arriving at five o’clock. Will I see you then?”
“You will,” Florence agreed. “It will almost be like old times.” She frowned. “Without Alice, of course.”
Carrie sighed. “We’ll be able to thank her for bringing us back together when we get her out of that horrid place.”
Florence fixed her eyes on Carrie. “You really believe we can?”
“Of course,” Carrie said firmly. “It’s not possible for her husband to lock her up there without cause. Dorothea Dix will get us in, and then we’ll bring her home.”
*****
Carrie and Janie finished final preparations for the meeting while Marietta and Jeremy put the twins down for the night.
“What do you think it’s like in an insane asylum?” Janie asked in a troubled voice.
Carrie shuddered. “I can’t imagine it’s anything but horrifying, especially when you aren’t insane.” She shook her head. “I know virtually nothing about it, but I’m quite certain Alice doesn’t belong there.”
Carrie was putting out the last tea cup when a knock sounded at the door. A wagon, having just discharged its passenger, was pulling away from the curb as she ushered Florence and Elizabeth inside. Carrie had time to register the sympathetic look on Elizabeth’s face before she turned to welcome Mrs. Packard.
“Welcome, Mrs. Packard,” she said warmly.
“Hello, Mrs. Borden.”
Carrie was immediately drawn to the woman standing in front of her. She was dressed rather severely, but ringlets of brown hair framed a kind face dominated by caring and compassionate eyes. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Packard replied. “I have devoted my entire life to women who find themselves in a situation like your friend Alice Humphries.”
Carrie had so many questions, but she remembered her manners enough to usher Mrs. Packard into the parlor, introduce her to the rest, and get her settled with a hot cup of tea. Marietta and Jeremy came downstairs just as they had all sat down, so she made fresh introductions.
“I made an apple pie,” Marietta murmured. “It’s the last apples of the season. May I entice anyone?”
Carrie squirmed with impatience as Marietta and Janie served the pie. Politeness was a wonderful thing, but with Alice confined in an insane asylum somewhere, Carrie wanted to get down to business. She turned to Mrs. Packard as soon as etiquette allowed.
“Mrs. Packard, at the risk of being rude, I’m afraid I know nothing about you. There was not room in the telegram for anything but an announcement you would be here tonight. You mentioned at the door that you have devoted your entire life to women who find themselves in situations like our friend Alice. May I ask why?”
Mrs. Packard took a sip of tea before she began. “My answer is quite simple. I used to be your friend Alice. My husband declared me insane and had me locked away in an asylum in Illinois for three years, from 1860 to 1863.”
Carrie, as well as everyone else in the room, gasped and leaned forward.
“But why?” Elizabeth stammered.
Carrie waited for her answer. It was obvious to everyone in the room that Mrs. Packard was sane. Her eyes shone with clear, calm intelligence.
“Because he could,” Mrs. Packard said flatly. “We don’t have much time this evening, so I won’t bore you with the whole sordid tale.” She reached into the bag resting by her side and pulled out a thick book. “This book was released last year. It will answer most of the questions I will not have time to address tonight.”
Carrie reached for the book eagerly, looking up with surprise when she read the cover. “You wrote this!”
Mrs. Packard nodded. “I did, indeed,” she agreed. “I have several. The first was published in ‘64, the year after my freedom was finally obtained. The book you are holding, The Prisoner’s Hidden Life, or, Insane Asylums Unveiled, is my latest.”
“I don’t understand,” Janie murmured. “How could your husband possibly have had you committed to an insane asylum?”
Mrs. Packard took another sip of tea. “The most important thing I can help all of you understand tonight is why he was able to do it. You see, my husband is a minister in the Presbyterian Church. He is quite staunch in his beliefs. When I dared to question those beliefs, and began to ask questions for further understanding, he took offense. He was at first understanding, but when some of the members of his church became alarmed by the influence I was having with my questions, he forbade me to continue and demanded I apologize for my wrong thinking.
”
“Which of course you didn’t do,” Florence said indignantly.
Mrs. Packard gazed at Florence for a moment. “You are correct. I was quite certain of the rights I had in regard to religious freedom as a citizen of the United States.” She held up a hand to stop further questions, and continued. “As Florence surmised, I was not willing to relinquish my religious freedoms. A friend, who is also an attorney, assured me I had the freedoms I believed I had.”
Carrie could feel a sickness beginning to churn in the pit of her stomach.
Mrs. Packard smiled slightly. “I continued to believe that, up until the day Mr. Packard spirited away my six children and had me locked in an insane asylum.”
“Six children?” Marietta hissed. “He took you away from six children?”
“Yes. My oldest was almost eighteen. The youngest, was only two years old.” Sadness filled her eyes.
“That’s horrible!” Elizabeth cried. “All because you had differing religious beliefs? How could he deny your rights that way?”
Mrs. Packard sighed. “Because I had none.”
Carrie shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I,” Mrs. Packard responded. “I had a conversation with Mr. Packard on the way to the asylum. I asked if I did not have a right to my opinions. He assured me that I did, as long as my opinion was right. That, of course, meant as long as my opinion was the same as his.”
Carrie felt her anger building.
“I then asked him,” Mrs. Packard continued, “if the Constitution does not defend the right of religious tolerance to all American citizens.”
“It certainly does!” Carrie exclaimed.
Mrs. Packard turned sad, but knowing eyes, on Carrie. “His response was that I was correct that the right extends to all American citizens, but that I am not a citizen. He assured me that while I am a married woman I am a legal nonentity, with absolutely no say in the law.” Her lips twisted. “He told me I was dead as to any legal existence while a married woman, and that I therefore had no legal protection.” She sighed. “That was my first lesson in the very true reality that a married woman has no legal right to her own identity or individuality.”