These Tangled Threads

by Tracie Peterson

  Daughtie turned and glared at Dr. Ketter. The one night when Liam Donohue materialized, asking to escort her home, Ivan Ketter had to emerge on the scene. She wanted to thrash the good doctor. Instead, she hiked off toward home without so much as a word, Ivan Ketter following close on her heels.

  CHAPTER 14

  Boston

  Tracy Jackson moved behind the large desk and bellowed into the conversation-filled room, “Gentlemen! If I could have your attention, we really must begin. Otherwise, I fear we’ll still be discussing matters at midnight.”

  Josiah Baines emitted a sigh. “The sky was threatening snow when I arrived. I certainly want to get home before we have a major storm.”

  “I don’t think there’s any need to worry, Josiah. It’s looked like snow for the past two weeks, and we haven’t seen so much as a flurry,” Henry Thorne replied. “You’d best get comfortable. I’m certain there’s going to be a great deal of discussion once I’ve completed my report.”

  “Then why don’t we begin with Henry’s report?” Josiah questioned.

  Matthew Cheever observed Tracy as he closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head in obvious frustration. “If everyone will take a seat, we’ll begin the meeting.We’ll get to Henry’s report in due time, Josiah. I believe Nathan would prefer to conduct the meeting in the same orderly fashion he’s utilized in the past. Nathan, would you like to begin?”

  Boott leaned toward Matthew. “I’m thankful Nathan agreed to take charge this evening. I’m guessing tonight’s agenda will make for heated discussion,” he said in a hushed voice.

  Matthew nodded his agreement but remained silent. He wasn’t quite so convinced the meeting would be lengthy. He doubted the agents were going to argue at length for the mill girls, but he kept his opinion to himself, anxious to observe the unfolding drama.

  Nathan Appleton moved to Tracy’s side and picked up a sheaf of papers. “Gentlemen, as we discussed at our last meeting, the profits have dropped considerably, and urgent steps are needed if we’re to protect our investment. With all of the directors in attendance earlier this month, we voted to decrease the mill girls’ wages by twenty-five percent. This proposal was discussed with the supervisors at the mills. They asked to meet with us in order to expound upon their ideas and concerns.”

  “Excuse me, Nathan, but wouldn’t it expedite matters if Kirk spoke on behalf of the supervisors? After all, he attended their meeting as well as our previous meeting. And he’s here tonight,” Josiah said with a flourish while giving Kirk a broad smile.

  Nathan turned toward Kirk Boott. “Would you like to respond to Josiah’s question?”

  “You’re in charge of the meeting, Nathan,” Kirk replied. He settled into his chair and glanced around the room from under hooded eyelids. Either he was attempting to avoid the smoke from his cigar or he didn’t want any supposition regarding his thoughts. Matthew surmised it was the latter.

  Turning his attention back toward Josiah, Nathan said, “As I believe you all know, Kirk is a director of the Boston Associates and owns an interest in the Corporation. While he has his finger on the pulse of Lowell, the supervisors and agents are in an entirely different position. Although they have a vested interest in our success due to their employment, they don’t own any shares in the Corporation. If Kirk were to speak for them, it could be said his suggestions and ideas were tainted by his monetary investment. You see—”

  “Oh, all right, Nathan. I’m not a complete dolt. You don’t need to go into further detail. I understand,” Josiah interrupted. “Let’s just get on with the meeting, shall we?”

  “I would be delighted,” Nathan replied with sarcasm dripping from each word. “Mr. Meanor, I believe the agents and supervisors have delegated you as spokesman for their group. Please step up here so that we may all hear what you have to say.”

  Matthew glanced toward Robert Meanor. He knew the man well. He was a good agent who capably managed the Tremont Mill and was respected by both workers and the other supervisors and agents. Both groups generally accepted his opinions with favor, and Matthew suspected that was why he had been chosen. The other agents hoped Robert could influence the Associates.

  Robert took his place at the desk, the sheet of paper he held visibly shaking as he began to speak. “Thank you for giving us this opportunity to present our views,” he began. “You asked that the agents meet and discuss your proposal for a twenty-five percent reduction in wages and respond to you. All agents are in agreement that a twenty-five percent reduction would be disastrous. We believe you would suffer irreparable damage by such a large reduction. If you move forward with this idea, the climate will be unfavorable for the procurement of good help in the future, and we believe there will be a mass migration homeward of many employees. Such an exodus will only lead to a further downward spiral. We need dependable, hardworking, trained employees if we are to keep production at the present output and maintain the current marginal profit.”

  “What do you suggest, Mr. Meanor?” Tracy Jackson inquired.

  “The agents have proposed you consider nothing greater than ten percent.”

  “Oh, but that is preposterous. At that rate, we’ll continue our losses without any hope of recovery. We need a change that will make a difference,” James Babcock replied.

  “What we need is for John Farnsworth to return home with additional new and exciting patterns for the print shop. Something that will send the women scurrying to buy our cloth and make it desired in every country around the world. And we need Taylor to return so he can begin production on the new prints we’ve already approved,” Josiah replied. “We haven’t been able to gain a large enough foothold in the foreign market.”

  “Those statements may be true, but we need relief right now. The only way I see that happening is a reduction in wages,” Tracy replied.

  “A wage reduction is an easy answer as we sit here tonight, gentlemen, but I do believe there will be repercussions if you continue down this road. I doubt whether the operatives will remain silent,” Robert countered.

  Nathan adjusted his collar and looked about the room. “There may be a few that quit and go home, but the majority have grown accustomed to earning a wage. Given time and thought, they’ll adjust to the idea. After all, if we don’t turn a profit, the mills will close and they’ll have no jobs at all.”

  “The entire country is in total disruption with that scoundrel Andrew Jackson at the helm. As president he is surely causing more damage than good,” Tracy began. “His ideas regarding the Bank of America and its dissolution are enough to create mass panic in the streets. Surely other businesses across the nation will find it necessary to cut expenses.”

  “Yes, but their cuts might well have less of a national effect than those of the textile industry,” Babcock threw out. “It’s just a collection of women, after all. They have no head for business or knowledge of the way our banking system is teetering on the edge of disaster.”

  Mr. Meanor cupped his chin in one hand and cast his gaze downward. “Forgive me for being so bold, sir, but most of you men have distanced yourselves from Lowell. I believe you may get more of a fight than you’ve bargained for. That collection of women you refer to has gone out of their way to educate themselves. Just last week a banking expert from Philadelphia came to lecture them. You might be surprised at what they have a head for. But either way, I’ll follow your instructions.”

  “Perhaps we should test the waters. Why don’t we have broadsides posted that explain there will be a decrease in wages beginning the first day of March? We can suggest that the amount may be as high as twenty-five percent. If we see the need, we can always rescind the proposal,” Kirk suggested.

  “Excellent idea, Kirk. It’s no wonder we hired you to manage the city,” Nathan replied. “What do you think, gentlemen?”

  Agreement came quickly, and Mr. Meanor and the other agents who had accompanied him were soon dismissed with orders to post broadsides at each of the mills as soon a
s they could be printed. Any reactions were to be reported to Matthew, who was charged with investigating the seriousness of any agitation.

  “Kirk, you can decide if we need to reconvene. If a meeting is necessary, send word to me,” Nathan instructed. “Let’s move on to Henry’s report, and after that, I think we can adjourn. I’m certain Josiah will want to hurry home, but for any of you who care to remain, there’s a fine bottle of port awaiting us in the drawing room.”

  London

  William Thurston walked up the stairs to his small room and removed his woolen greatcoat before seating himself at the small desk. He had decided on his way home he would pen a letter to Thaddeus Arnold. He longed to feel the surge of delight caused by sharing his schemes with another. Writing a letter to Thaddeus would not give him the same heightened pleasure, but it would have to suffice. He dared not trust anyone else in England.

  The last letter he’d received from Thaddeus was tucked into a small drawer. William withdrew the missive and reread the letter before carefully folding and returning it to the drawer. Thaddeus would be pleased to know the information he had supplied regarding John Farnsworth had proved correct.

  Picking up his pen, William dipped the nib into a small bottle of ink and began to write. Thaddeus would be delighted to hear of his success this evening. The meeting with Barlow Kent and Chauncy Fuller, although brief, had exceeded William’s expectations. Chauncy had completed some investigating on his own and was quick to tell William he and Barlow agreed that Farnsworth was likely in England to pilfer additional information for the Americans. Much to Thurston’s pleasure, they had agreed the authorities should not be involved. Little did they realize that their announcement had eliminated William’s greatest fear. Surprisingly, Barlow Kent had made the statement and Chauncy had quickly voiced his agreement that they should be able to handle the Farnsworth matter on their own. In fact, the two men said they’d nearly completed a plan to ensure John Farnsworth would never return to America, and once the arrangements were in place, they would contact Thurston. Although he preferred the role of leader to that of follower, he knew his power was limited. If these men wanted to take charge, he’d adhere to their pronouncements—as long as their decisions concurred with his own.

  With his lips curved in a self-satisfied smile, William continued with his letter.

  CHAPTER1 5

  February

  Lowell

  Daughtie slumped into the thick-cushioned chair and folded her arms. “I wish you hadn’t invited a whole group of girls,” she complained. “Did you ask Dr. Ketter’s permission to use his waiting room?”

  “Yes,” Ruth replied, her irritation obvious. “And even though I specially requested his permission, you may recall that Dr. Ketter told us we could use this room as a parlor on Sundays.”

  “Strange you can remember what Dr. Ketter said about the parlor, yet you can’t seem to recall I wanted to have a private discussion about the turnout.”

  “Why does everything have to be on your terms, Daughtie? I’d rather have the opinions and ideas of several people. That way we’ll have a well-balanced viewpoint. Besides, nobody’s forcing you to sit in that chair. You can go upstairs if you don’t want to be involved.”

  “I’ll stay and listen, but I doubt whether I’ll add much to the conversation. I barely know these girls, and they could be some of the very ones who have been reporting information back to the supervisors.”

  Ruth gave her a look of disdain. “You’re overreacting. There is nothing preventing you from merely sitting there like a bump on a log and listening to what the others have to say. You can weigh the information and still have plenty of time to decide if you want to support a strike before the first of March arrives,” Ruth replied before hurrying off to answer a knock at the door.

  With Dr. Ketter having granted permission to use the parlor and Mrs. Arnold and Theona gone visiting for the afternoon, there was little doubt Ruth was planning on several hours of lively discussion. When Ruth returned with ten girls in tow, Daughtie knew there would be no shortage of opinions.

  The introductions were brief. Two of the girls were employed at the Appleton; the remainder worked at the Lawrence, Tremont, and Suffolk mills. Daughtie recognized the girls from the Appleton, for they both worked on the spinning floor. However, she had never seen the others and carefully scrutinized each one as introductions were made. “I’m Daughtie Winfield. I work at the Appleton. I recognize you girls from the Appleton, but I don’t believe I’ve seen any of you other girls before, even at the library,” she remarked. There was an edge to her voice.

  “I don’t have time for reading,” one of the girls replied. “And I’ve never seen you, either,” another remarked, returning Daughtie’s condescending gaze.

  “You should make time to expand your mind,” Daughtie rebutted.

  Ruth sighed. “We’re not here to discuss library usage and mind expansion. We’re here to discuss the merits of a turnout the first of March. If you want to discuss these other matters, I suggest we schedule another get-together for that purpose. Now, why don’t we begin? Who would like to make a statement against turning out?”

  One of the girls from the Suffolk raised her hand. “I’m afraid to go on strike. I need my job, and what if they find replacements to take our place? They could blackball us and never let us return to work at any of the mills. They do things like that, you know!”

  “If we sit back and let them decrease our wages, they’ll take it as our approval to do the same thing the next time they claim that their profits are going down. We can’t idly sit by and let them get away with this,” Marjorie, a girl from the Lawrence mill, replied.

  Several girls nodded in agreement.

  Jane Rinemore from the Suffolk shifted in her chair. “Perhaps we could circulate a petition setting forth our opposition to the lowering of wages. If we gathered enough signatures, the owners would see that we disapprove of their actions, yet we could continue working.”

  “A page full of signatures won’t stop them from lowering the wages. Are you willing to do nothing but sign a protest and then smile and accept your wages being decreased?” Marjorie inquired.

  Jane shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t believe I have a choice. My family depends upon the money I send them.”

  “Well, your family will have less to count on come the first of March unless we do something,” Marjorie countered.

  “The Bible tells us that we honor Christ by submitting to each other. Wouldn’t it then be a mark of faith if we acted in love and obedience to Christ’s teachings and merely accepted the Corporation’s offer?” Jane asked while surveying the room.

  Marjorie’s lips tightened into a knot. “Well, if you’re referring to Ephesians 5:21, you’ve completely misinterpreted the passage. That passage means Christians shouldn’t create disturbances within the church with their stubborn behavior.”

  “But what is the church if it’s not the believers? The mills are owned by Christian men, aren’t they? I certainly don’t think that verse is speaking of a church building,” Jane replied with authority. “And if you disagree with that Scripture, Ephesians also says that Christians should submit to their employers.”

  Ruth patted Marjorie’s arm. “I don’t think we need to discuss this matter based upon biblical truths, Jane. Our decision is purely related to right and wrong within our workplace. Don’t the rest of you agree?”

  There were nods of agreement around the room, except for Jane and Daughtie.

  “Your remark makes absolutely no sense, Ruth. We may disagree over interpretation of the Scripture, but the Bible is exactly where we should look for our answers. If you’re saying our behavior at work shouldn’t reflect Biblical principles, I heartily disagree. I concur with Jane; I think a turnout is improper behavior,” Daughtie said, having regained her composure.

  “I should have known,” Ruth murmured before squaring her shoulders and leveling a look of disdain at her roommate. “Your Shaker upb
ringing is surfacing.”

  Several of the girls giggled.

  Daughtie observed the group for a moment and then stood. “I thought this was to be an exchange of thoughts and beliefs—an open discussion. However, it appears I misunderstood the intent of the meeting. Please excuse me. I’m going upstairs, since it appears those opposing the majority opinion will gain only hurt feelings.”

  “Daughtie! Wait for me,” Ruth called.

  Daughtie hesitated and then stopped. She wanted to continue on her way without a confrontation with Ruth. They hadn’t spoken since the meeting yesterday, but there wasn’t time to resolve their differences now.

  Ruth hastened toward her. “Could we clear the air? I don’t want us to quarrel.”

  “We can talk later if you like. I’m not going back to the boardinghouse right now. I’ve already told Mrs. Arnold not to expect me for supper.”

  “Would you like some company? I’d be happy to accompany you—or help with whatever is needing your attention.”

  “No, thank you. I don’t need any help, and I prefer to be alone.”

  “How long are you going to continue pouting? I’m trying to apologize, but you’re determined to make me suffer even longer, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not pouting, and my prior arrangements have nothing to do with you or yesterday’s meeting. I’m sorry if you’re offended, but I really must be on my way,” Daughtie replied before turning and hurrying out the mill yard gate. She could feel Ruth staring after her, but she continued onward without glancing back until she reached Whidden’s Mercantile on Gorham Street.

  The bell over the door jingled, announcing her presence as she walked into the store. “Good evening, Mrs. Whidden,” she greeted. “I came back to pick up the fabric swatches.”