Oh, Lord, what have I done?
December 21, 1885
Jack stayed gone so long last evening, that I finally got into my nightdress, and feeling full of dread and loathing, got into bed to await my fate and pray with all my might for the earth to open up right in the middle of Congress Street as he walked up to this hotel. It would be in the paper tomorrow, Man Swallowed Alive by Act of God on Congress Street, All Rescue Efforts Failed, Grieving Widow Mourns on Wedding Day. I heard the key in the lock and the door hinges squeal, and closed my eyes tight, pretending to be asleep.
I heard him set something down, and his voice said, You look like you are waiting your execution! I opened my eyes and he was standing over me with his hands on his hips, and I couldn’t say any words at all. Get up, he said, and come sit down. We have some things to discuss.
I was feeling embarrassed sitting down with him in my nighty. He opened the little brown sack and took out two glasses. Then he brought out a little bottle. What is that? I asked.
Whiskey, he said. He poured some into both glasses, just a sip, and then filled them with water from a canteen. Here, he said, handing me a glass and taking the other one. He had a strange look on his face that scared me even more. I sniffed the glass and didn’t like the smell, and all I could think of was, what kind of shame was he leading me to now? Then he sort of pointed his glass at me and said, This is the last drink I will ever have, and I want to have it with you. Sip it slow. It will help your nerves. And mine, too.
I’m not nervous, I said to him, but he just smirked at me.
He said, If I said boo to you, you’d jump out that window and run barefoot to California. Don’t tell me you’re not nervous, it’s time for some honesty. Now try it, please.
So I took a little sip. It is surely the devil’s own brew, burning and hot and nasty tasting, and it made my eyes water and I shuddered real hard like when I was little and Mama dosed me with castor oil.
Amazing isn’t it? he said, why people will go out of their way and lose everything that’s important to them for something that tastes like it would cut grease. Just take a sip, and listen to what I have to say. You don’t have to drink it all. With that, he took half of his and gulped it down, and cleared his throat. These are married things, all right, between a husband and wife? Secret, even from your Mama.
I nodded at him, getting really scared, and I prepared myself to hear a horrible tale of wicked women and loathsome deeds.
Well, he said, I was married before. But not with a preacher, not in a church. She was an Indian and no preacher would marry us, or her people either, so we just married each other. He looked like he was trying to cut a hole into his glass with his eyes.
I took another sip of the whiskey. Where is she now? I said.
I don’t know, he said, and gulped down the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Her brothers and some men from her tribe found us and beat the hell out of me and dragged her away and disappeared. I hunted for her for a year, but they left no trail at all. Maybe I was just young and stupid and couldn’t find it. She was pregnant though, and I know how they felt about half breed babies, just like most white people do. When I told you I had a friend that died and wouldn’t tell you the name, well, it was on Christmas day six years ago now, that I decided she was dead, and I quit looking for her.
I said, I imagine that broke your heart. Then I got to thinking again about how Jimmy never did love me, only Ruthanne, and because of that, I never meant much to him. So I felt real heavy in my heart, and I said, And so, you’re telling me you still love her?
No, he said with a twisted sound in his voice, looking frustrated. That’s not what I’m saying at all. It isn’t the kind of thing a man wants known all around, but you deserve to know something like that. Neither of us are the same as we were six years ago are we? I did love her. And I’ll always remember her, but I love you now, and for different reasons. More grown up reasons. I was young and irresponsible, and I wish I had been more thoughtful of what would happen to her instead of selfish. I caused her more grief than a woman should know, and maybe caused her death. I don’t ever want to do anything that could cause you bad times ahead, but I’m just a man. And sometimes kind of selfish. And I don’t want you to think because that preacher made you say honor and obey that I expect that. I don’t want you to turn into a good little wife, I want to be married to you just like you are, spitfire and all.
Well, I said, that’s a real fine compliment, Captain Elliot.
He smiled at me and then he laughed softly to himself. I think you are getting relaxed, he said. He took the glass from me and set it aside, and held my hands in his. And he stared at me until I had to turn my eyes away. I have a wedding gift for you, he said. My sister sent it to me, it used to be my mother’s, and I hope you’d wear it now and then. He handed me a little envelope of paper, and inside it was a beautiful little brooch with a tiny clock hanging from it. All around the little clock was a sparkly little cut glass ring.
Here, he said, the diamonds were loose but I had them fixed. That’s what took me so long, the jewelsmith was closed and I had to go to his house and make him open the store to get it for you. The watch keeps pretty good time, he said, and you just turn this here if it is slow, to make the hands catch up.
These here are diamonds? I asked. What is this white thing? There was a round ball of creamy white from which the little diamond watch hung.
It’s a pearl, he said. A pretty good one, I reckon, the jewelsmith tried to buy it off the watch and replace it with some other stone he had, but I wanted it to look like I remembered it.
Oh, I gasped out, oh my, this is beautiful! Oh, Jack, thank you so much. All my life I have wanted a pearl to wear. I would be proud to wear it always.
Well, he said, not when you are wrangling cattle, it wouldn’t be socially proper to wear diamonds to a roundup.
I have a gift for you, too, I said. I was ashamed of myself for plotting how I’d get my money back when the earth swallowed Jack Elliot down. I stood up and hurried to the bureau, but I hadn’t even unpacked, and I noticed that he made a face when he saw me go instead to my bags.
Weren’t you planning to stay? he said.
I told him, We won’t be here long enough to get all that out and then re-pack tomorrow, but here it is, I had your name put on it, but if you don’t like it, well, here. I handed him the watch and chain that was engraved now with his name.
Oh, look at that! he said, and popped open the cover. Why this is just fine! And it’s already running. Seems, Mrs. Elliot, that we both have time on our minds. Isn’t that something? he said, opening the cover and reading it and closing it, and opening it again. It’s real fine. Thank you kindly. He put the watch in his hand and made the chain into a little coil around it. Take one more sip, he said. There’s one last thing we have to discuss.
My head was starting to spin when my eyes moved around. It doesn’t taste so bad, now, I said.
He nodded and gave me that half a smile. I reckon not, he said, good thing this is the last drink for both of us. He was eyeing me again. Now, he said, I want to talk about children. I want you to know that I love April like she was mine, and that’s no problem. And I want to have all the children you want, but not so many that you wear yourself into the ground like some women.
I nodded, but I didn’t understand. Jack, I said, I had a real bad time having April. Real bad. I want to have other children too, but you should know that it wasn’t easy for me. Savannah has a much easier time, I said. Oh, I shouldn’t have said that! Oh, I’m sorry! Please don’t tell her I said that to you!
Sh-sh, he said. It’s okay. The liquor makes you talk, that’s all. It’s another good reason to stay away from it. I’m sorry you had a tough time. I’d hate to think of you going through that again.
I nodded at him and said, If you’d stay close by, Jack, I’ll be okay. I’m not afraid.
He squinted a bit of a smile. I know, he said. At least you don’t look like you are
marching to a gallows any more. Then he held out his hand towards me and said, Come here, my love, and tell me you love me true.
Well, I am sort of used to having you around, I said. Once again, just for a second, I saw that look on his face like I’d poked a nerve.
I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to you, too, he said. You’re cold, you’re shaking all over, he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. Why don’t you get back under the covers and stay warm?
I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded it would feel so good to put my freezing feet back under the blankets.
He stood by the bed and began to undress slowly, and I climbed up on the feather mattress, embarrassed to watch, but I listened to the boots, the belt, the clothes as they hit the wood chair, then I felt the bed sway down.
Just a minute, I said, aren’t you going to wear anything to bed?
He just grinned even bigger, showing his teeth, and said Mustache! and pulled up the blankets.
No one should write down, even in her private journal, the things that happen on her wedding night, but I never want to forget the first time I knew John Edward Harrison Elliot. He told me he loved me more than life itself, telling me he had longed for this moment forever and forever, and he asked me did I like this or that, which I couldn’t even choose because the answer was always yes.
Jack kissed me until my lips were swollen and my throat was dry as cotton, and kissed the scar on my breast, whispering A little sugar, to make the owey all better. Then he kissed again, And one for the heart, where the wounds are deepest. He whispered to me, a hundred little soft loving words I could hardly hear in between a constant raining of kisses, and then he took my breath away; it was never like this before. The feather bed felt like it was a cloud up in the sky, and we slept a while and then woke and loved again, and slept, and loved again with the sun fully up.
He made it seem like the most important thing in the world to him, and before last night I never knew why some women would actually desire to do those things with a man, but now I truly do. Always with Jimmy it was just a matter to be finished and hope it took, like breeding a mare.
The sun was touching my eyes and I woke knowing it had to be nearly noon. The lamp had burned out in the night. Jack, I whispered, turning to see his sleeping face on the pillow beside me. Jack, I don’t want the earth to open up and swallow you down any more.
He opened his eyes then and looked at me real strange and wrinkled up his brow. I reckon that’s good, he said. Was that a possibility in your mind?
Well, I said, I was really scared last night when you were gone so long.
Thought I wouldn’t come back? he said, gleefully wrapping me up in his arms and scooping up blankets with me in a bundle. Or, did you think I would? He gave me that piercing look and I know he is right inside my head looking at my thoughts, then he nodded and stuck out his lips and said, Well, are you sorry I came back?
I suppose not, I said.
You suppose? Suppose! What does it take to convince you?
I just grinned at him.
Sarah! how shameless! he said, acting like he was shocked, but I know he wasn’t at all. Well, he said, Wife, you’ll have to be convinced later. I’m worn out and hungry. Even the Army feeds its prisoners.
Well, Husband, I said, then we should get dressed and eat.
And so we began our wedding trip, and we will stay one more night in this hotel and leave tomorrow at 7:15 on the train for Texas.
December 23, 1885
The huge train jerked and puffed and the whistle blew. They would all be there without me for Christmas. Ernest will be gone before I get back. Goodbye, I said into the glass.
Mama waved and her mouth was saying Merry Christmas. Savannah was just a flash in the conductor’s red lamplight. Suddenly I knew how she must have felt to say goodbye to her family in Texas to come here with us. I hung onto the window, feeling the frozen metal edges around the sliding glass, staring into the cold past the vapor and sparks, back toward the light from the depot. Hot, salty tears seeped from my eyes and dripped from my chin.
I sat across from Jack on the strange, upright seats, and he gave me a look that was for once not a smirk but one of real sympathy, and he handed me his handkerchief. They’ll be here when we get back, he said.
Not Ernest. Right away, my thoughts turned to my brother and the long talks we had had just before my wedding. While he made quick work of checking and repairing all the horses’ hooves, he said he was proud to have me married to Captain Elliot. He said his job as blacksmith was pleasing to him, and it put him to doing something valuable that didn’t take such a keen eye for distance. I tried to get him to tell me things about Jack, but he just went on and on with stories about their army life. I suppose men don’t look on the same things in a person that a woman wants to know. Ernest seemed to have no suspicion at all that a man could be a bad husband even if he didn’t cheat at cards, or could be cruel or thoughtless to his wife even if he was a straight shooter about his business affairs. He acted like I was being peevish for no reason.
Just before we all drove to town for the wedding, Ernest gave me a gift for my wedding. He must have saved up a long, long time, for he gave us a solid silver bowl, and six real silver spoons and knives and forks for the table. He told me to polish them with potash, and said it will taste better than eating off tin forks. Then he gave Jack a real stiff salute and handed him a package, and inside it was a fine, smooth, pair of tall black cavalry boots for dress. He said he had the bootmaker take a pattern from Jack’s old ones while he was gone one time. Then, it seemed like Ernest had done what he came for, and he quit talking so much to me, and made himself part of the rest of the group as if he slipped away in the crowd. I asked Mama to keep my silver things safe until we get back, but Jack is wearing his boots now. When Ernest said goodbye to me, he hugged me long and hard, and there came a cold, faraway look in his eyes, and it was like I could see into yonder in that look, like I knew it was the last time I would see him.
The train was stuffy and cold, and even though the car had a little hot box at one end, it made me long for fresh air and warmth all at once. Jack had brought April a little slate and chalks and an eraser to amuse herself while we rode, and he left me alone for a while, talking to her and watching her draw scribbled rings, and exclaiming proudly at each picture when she announced what it was.
We ate breakfast later in a dining car, and there was pretty linen tablecloths and a colored man in a handsome white uniform that asked us what we wanted. April was good as could be, and talked a blue streak about the scenery out the window, and the napkin under her chin, and anything else that popped into her head. And when we stood to leave, she held up her hands to Jack instead of to me.
Well, I said, she’s a big girl, she should walk.
He looked at me and then said to her, Walk next time, ride now, and picked her up anyway. She’s my girl, aren’t you? And April put her arms around his neck while we returned to our seats.
It is so strange to have this happy feeling inside and be pleased that she likes him, and still so uncomfortable, like I am riding in a dream with a strange man. When he is gone, I feel more normal, but when he is nearby, I feel captured by him, and overcome with curiosity about him and everything in his whole life. But he is not the kind to sit and expound on himself, and I realized it took a glass of whiskey for him to tell me just one important fact from his past. Maybe it is not so good that he has given up all drinking, just to be married to me. There is too much I want to know.
A man in a train uniform came to us and gave me a note, saying it was from two ladies in the car on the other side of the diner. It said they had seen me at breakfast, and wanted to make my acquaintance, and would I come to tea in an hour?
Go ahead, Jack said, it will make the time pass quicker.
So I told the man Fine, if Jack would stay with April and watch her, and if she doesn’t throw a fit over me leaving, I will come.
Very good, said
the man, real formal like, I shall tell Mrs. Faulkner and Mrs. Blankenship that you will join them presently. And may I present your name, Ma’am?
Yes, I told him, Mrs. Sarah, and then I caught myself and I know I blushed, and Jack stared at me hard, Mrs. Jack Elliot, I said. The porter left us, and Jack left his seat and sat by my side. He took my hand then, and seemed to be admiring the wedding ring in the sunlight coming in the window, but he didn’t say anything, and when I looked at his face he looked out the window fast, as if I had caught him at something.
April climbed in my lap, and I suppose because she had been up early, she drowsed and fell asleep, so it was no trouble to set her on his lap when the porter returned. And taking the man’s stiffly bent elbow, I went to meet the ladies. They seemed like very fine, high class women, and they were both dressed so elegant, and sat gracefully in their seats and ordered the porter to bring tea and cakes, just like they were used to ordering people around.
We had all said hello very politely, and they asked me if I’d rather have tea or coffee. Well, I said I preferred coffee, but if tea was more convenient, that would be fine.
They kind of sniffed, and one of them said, Coffee! Must be fresh from the Territories.
Well, yes, Ma’am, I said, I lived there all my life.
Then they asked me about my husband, and what he does, and I told them he was an officer in the Army and an Indian fighter, and they exclaimed and raised their hands to their mouths and were so interested and asked dozens of questions. They asked wasn’t I worried about him all the time, and I said, well, we only just married, and if there was Indian trouble around I would be much less worried knowing he was close by.
These Is My Words: The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine, 1881-1901 Page 23