Ella Wood (Ella Wood, 1)
Page 31
Emily wished she’d been able to fill it with more items they would need, but only so much fit inside with the little boy. “Shhhh,” she warned with a finger to her lips. “From now on, let me do all the talking.”
She led them through darkened streets, jerking each time the rising gusts sent debris skittering across their path. More refugees watched them pass from alleys and doorways. She felt entirely too conspicuous. What ladies would walk to the waterfront after dark in the company of a field hand and without the presence of a gentlemen? At the very least, they would have sent their luggage on ahead, but a carriage would have alerted the household to their escape.
The wharf proved equally intimidating. Emily found the ship, but it was dark. No movement apart from the whipping of the wind, no light except the thin glow of a candle in a rear cabin. Emily adjusted Lizzie’s veil, covered Larkin, and instructed Ketch to leave the trunk and carry Lizzie and the baby. Then she marched them all up the gangplank, past the guard that indicated the ship had already been searched for stowaway slaves, and rapped on the door.
A middle-aged man in a captain’s uniform scowled out at them with his lantern held high. “What do you want?”
Emily threw up her chin. “My sister is booked on this ship. I am here to deliver her.”
“It’s after nine o’clock,” he said with annoyance. “She couldn’t have come sooner?”
“We had to come after dark. My sister has been suffering a serious malady since the birth of her son. She cannot tolerate any amount of sunlight. Even your lantern is enough to cause her excruciating pain. She is on her way to a specialist in Philadelphia, and I would thank you to see us to her cabin.”
The captain peered more closely at the black veil Lizzie held tight against the gale. “All right, all right. This way,” he grumbled, snatching a key off a shelf.
He led them through a door and down a hallway to a tiny cubicle where Ketch laid Lizzie carefully on the cabin’s single bunk.
“Thank you, Hector,” Emily said to him. “Please retrieve Mrs. Theodore’s trunk from the dock.” She turned to the captain. “When he returns, I expect you will show him to his quarters, as well. You will find that both of their tickets are in order,” Emily said, handing them over.
The captain took them, watching Ketch’s backside suspiciously as it faded into the darkness of the hallway.
“Our butler has taken ill,” she explained, “and I do not trust the rest of our house staff not to run away in the North. Hector has proven reliable on many occasions. I will entrust the care of my sister to no one else.”
The man sucked his teeth and shrugged. “It makes no difference to me.”
“Very well.” She handed over a few bills left from her bank note. “My uncle is to meet my sister in Philadelphia, but his memory has become less than reliable of late. She has his address in the event that he does not show. In that case, I would greatly appreciate your assistance in this matter. Please accept this as payment for any inconvenience you may suffer.”
He took the money without comment.
“Ah, Hector,” she said upon Ketch’s return. “Place it there in the corner.”
When the men left, Emily caught Lizzie up in an embrace. “I am going to miss you so much,” she whispered.
“Hector?” Lizzie breathed in response.
“Hush.” Emily laughed. “It was the first name that came to me.” She planted a kiss on Larkin’s blanketed head. Then, filled with a bittersweet ache, she voiced her final good-byes. “Please write to me through my friend Malachi and let me know you’re safe. I wrote his address in the cover of the book.”
“I promise,” Lizzie whispered. Then she pressed an envelope into Emily’s hand. “It’s important you read this soon.”
Her fingers tightened around it. “Larkin’s father?”
Lizzie nodded.
“I’ll read it tonight.” Emily threw her arms around her friend in one final embrace. Then she was closing the cabin door and stepping out of the hallway and back into the violent wind. Tears burned her eyes as she left the darkened ship. She paused at the end of the dock to look back at the vessel that would carry Lizzie away and sent a prayer skyward for her safety. The tempest blasted strands of hair into her face, but it failed to blow away the melancholy that followed her as she strode down the lonely street.
What a twist her life had taken since Julia Watson thrust her bleeding finger beneath Emily’s nose. What a change had been wrought since Malachi dragged her to Detroit’s Second Baptist Church to hear Frederick Douglass’s fiery oration. In the space of three years, while the nation spiraled toward disaster, the spoiled Southern belle had blossomed into a young woman of conviction. But the foundation for such a transition had been laid long before, she realized, in the fervent friendship of two young girls—one black, one white. It was a friendship she had nearly abandoned. Emily blinked back the moisture that blurred her vision. How dearly she missed Lizzie already!
Three blocks passed under her feet before her thoughts returned to the envelope in her hand, the final gift from Lizzie. She held it up, searching for any clue to its contents, but she could make out nothing in the blackness. She hurried her steps, impatient now to reach home.
“FIRE!”
The cry jerked Emily to a halt. The warning came again and was soon taken up by others up and down the waterfront. She turned, gaping, in the center of the street. Before her, a deadly orange glow gained strength at the edge of the harbor, whipped into a frenzy by the angry wind.
People began to stream past her, some fleeing, some panicking, others going door to door, coolly alerting residents to the danger. Emily could only stare, frozen by the memory of the mill fire. The structure had been consumed so quickly, so thoroughly, the firefighters had been powerless to stop it. Far out on the river, that blaze had caused little damage. But this one prowled the edge of the city with a stiff wind urging it toward miles of wooden buildings. Even as she watched, tongues of flames shot outward, licking at their nearest neighbor.
A rider pounded down East Bay Street shouting, “The dockside at Hasell Street is beyond saving. Lend aid! The fire’s crossing over East Bay.”
The tide shifted on the street. As his warning spread, people began running toward the fire. Men poured from their homes. Ships disgorged their crews. Refugees, already having escaped one danger, left their temporary shelters to fight another. All volunteered to assist the firefighting efforts, but deep in her gut Emily knew their number would be insufficient. So many men were away with the army. And no human could hope to subdue the combined fury of wind and flame.
As she gawked, the brilliance in the north grew until Emily could clearly see her own terror reflected on the faces of those around her. She stood rooted in the center of the chaos until a horrible thought broke through the paralysis of her brain. A glance toward the Hornbill assured her that the ship floated beyond the threat of danger. But the fire was advancing swiftly into the city’s interior.
Thad and Jovie’s boardinghouse lay directly in its path.
END OF ELLA WOOD
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Blood Moon
Michelle Isenhoff
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Historical Notes
I’d like to take a few pages to sort out fact from fiction and include some of the fascinating details I’ve encountered in my research. Many of the historical people, places, and images featured in the book can be viewed on my Pinterest page. I did my best to portray an accurate glimpse of this time period. If inaccuracies are found, I accept full responsibility.
Angelina and Sarah Grimké were perhaps the most important real life characters in Ella Wood. Born in Charleston to a prominent family, they became vocal opponents of slavery. They were banished from Charleston, and their literature, which caused widespread conflict in Southern post offices, was also outlawed. The quote in chapter twenty-one is taken from Angelina’s “Appeal to the Christian Women of the South”. The sisters were not the inspiration for Emily’s character, but they proved the plausibility of her break with traditional Southern ideas regarding slavery. Incidentally, the sisters were also forerunners in the women’s rights movement, particularly in regards to suffrage and education, lending credence to Emily’s strong desire for schooling.
The history of the Maryland Institute (then officially called the Maryland Institute for the Promotion of Mechanic Arts, and today called the Maryland Institute College of Art) has been accurately portrayed. The institution was among the first to offer women equal learning opportunities. They really did host Exhibitions as described each year.
To my knowledge, the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts did not offer correspondence courses at this time. Perhaps they never have. But it is plausible. The institution was in existence at this time period, and correspondence had already become a legitimate form of education with the expansion of the post office.
Lizzie’s description of the traveling ministers’ sermons in chapter four is taken word for word from the book Slave Religion: The ‘Invisible Institution' in the Antebellum South, by Dr. Albert J. Raboteau (Oxford, 1978). Dr. Raboteau is quoting slave Lucretia Alexander.
History has preserved well the gang system of slavery used for growing cotton in America’s collective memory. The task system of slavery that was common on rice producing plantations is not generally as well remembered. Growing rice along the tidal rivers of South Carolina and Georgia was a hazardous undertaking. Standing in fetid water for hours and battling snakes, alligators, and mosquitos carrying disease in the tropical swamps took a severe toll on the health of slaves. The freer task system evolved as a balance was reached between the demands of slaves and masters. Under the system, slaves were assigned a task each day (i.e., a well-defined section of the rice field). When that task was accomplished, whatever remained of the day could be spent however a slave desired. Under the task system, slaves were often able to hunt, tend a garden, raise livestock, produce goods for sale, or hire themselves out for wages. This is the system under which the slaves at Ella Wood operate.
Jack and Jovie serve in the Second South Carolina Infantry. The company mustered in before the Battle of Fort Sumter and served in the battle, but because of the reorganization of regiments as authority transferred from the state to the newly formed Confederacy, there was movement and varying dates of entry among the individual companies. Sources disagree on the dates for the formation of Jack and Jovie’s Company K. Two sources, particularly South Carolina Troops in Confederate Service, by A. S. Salley (1913), gave a post-Sumter date, which worked out very well for Jack and Jovie’s school year. I opted to use it, though its reliability may be suspect. The rest of the regiment’s history is accurately portrayed.
Prisoners from First Manassas (First Bull Run) were brought to the Charleston Jail and transferred to Castle Pinkney on the dates specified. It was a small, temporary holding area. Food, health, and treatment early in the war was exceptional. The prison would be remembered as one of the few which were not death camps. The measles epidemic among the prisoners at this time and location is fictional.
Charleston’s West Point Mill really did burn on the night of November 14, 1860.
The Great Fire of Charleston occurred on the windy night of December 11, 1861 and destroyed 145 acres of the peninsula in a line one mile long and 1/7 of a mile wide. The damage was impossible to fix during the war. Many of the pictures showing Charleston after the Civil War attribute the damage to the bombardment of the city, when the majority of damage was actually caused by the fire a year and a half before.
Sam Fuller was a noted abolitionist in North Carolina. A skull and crossbones were left in his front yard. He disappeared shortly thereafter and was never heard from again. Aaron Ridgepool and James Hitchins were also both factual accounts I came across in my research. So were the Texas fires.
The books Emily and Lizzie read together are time period children’s titles.
Finally, we now know summer sickness (fever and ague) as malaria. Like yellow fever, which has similar symptoms, it is spread by mosquitoes. But that wouldn’t be discovered for another twenty years.
Ella Wood novellas
(Accompaniments to the original Ella Wood trilogy.)
Lizzie, Jack, Jovie...you've come to love them in the Ella Wood trilogy. Now get to know these important characters better. This series of novellas will fill in some gaps in Ella Wood's main story line. Experience Lizzie and Ketch's escape north. Follow Jack and Jeremiah into the Confederate army camp. And find out exactly what happened to Jovie after Gettysburg.
Lizzie | Jack | Jovie
Or purchase the boxed set.
Also by Michelle Isenhoff
Three young girls.
Three stories of tragedy and triumph.
Connected by the same Civil War.
Available on Amazon
(Candle Star is the prequel to the Ella Wood trilogy.)
Born into Capernica’s lowest social tier and not permitted to leave the poverty of Settlement 56, Jaclyn Holloway gambles on the one chance available to her to advance—testing into Military caste. But if she fails and Will succeeds, she won’t see him again until his tour of duty is complete. In twenty years.
Available on Amazon
Orphaned at a young age, Song has grown up scoffing at his grandfather’s legends. When an heirloom links him to an ancient prophecy, he learns his destiny lies within the old tales he has scorned. He must follow the path that killed his father.
Available on Amazon
If you owned a pen that wrote the future, would you use it? What if the consequences spread like ripples in a pond? What if they raged out of control? What if the pen demanded tribute...in blood?
Available on Amazon
I was chosen from among all others to complete a task I did not want. I was told I'd have help. I was told I'd be in capable hands. Then I met my guardian angel. I am so doomed.
Available on Amazon
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About Michelle
Michelle Isenhoff writes for children and adults. She loves roller coasters, big dogs, high school football games, cycling, swimming in big waves, old graveyards, and wearing flip-flops all winter. Her dream vacation would include lots of castle ruins, but so far she’s had to settle for pictures on Pinterest. Once an elementary teacher, Michelle homeschooled combinations of her three kids for twelve years. Now that the last of them has graduated to public school, she writes full time and feels like she’s on a perpetual summer vacation.
MichelleIsenhoff.com
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