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Authors: Judith Pella

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“Even if it isn’t the first time James has found me in the middle of a brawl,” Carolina said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll have to tell you sometime about the fight that broke out at my coming-out party.”

“Comin’ out of what?” Kiernan questioned and everyone laughed.

“I can see,” Carolina said, “that there is a great deal I shall have to explain. Suffice it to say, I tend to find myself in situations that would better be avoided.”

“But she’s stubborn and insistent,” James added, “and when she bats those darks lashes at you and gets that pouting little-girl expression on her face, you’d might as well give up.”

Kiernan threw a quick glance at Victoria, who Carolina noted was blushing. “I’ve had some experience with pouts,” Kiernan said, returning his attention to James and Carolina.

“No doubt,” Carolina replied, seeing clearly that the future was already mapping itself out before her.

Kiernan seemed instantly aware of Carolina’s understanding, and instead of dealing further with the matter, he squatted down to meet Brenton face-to-face. “So are we still friends?”

“Sure,” Brenton answered. “I’m sorry for saying those bad things.”

“Apology accepted,” Kiernan replied and hugged Brenton once again.

Carolina watched the scene, all the while her mind dealing with the idea that this man might one day be her son-in-law. It was hard to imagine Victoria growing up and one day getting married, but at least with her increasing awareness of the character of Kiernan O’Connor, Carolina no longer felt quite so fretful toward that day.

“Well, now I hope you will answer a question for me,” Carolina said, turning to her husband. “When do we leave for home?”

James shook his head as if still uncertain that he should allow his wife to travel back to the isolated town. “Tomorrow, if you’re up to it.”

“I assure you, Mr. Baldwin, I will be up and ready. I long to be in my own home, and with the holidays nearly upon us, I want to celebrate in grand style.”

James laughed. “Ever looking toward the future, eh, Mrs. Baldwin?”

Carolina glanced at Kiernan and then to Victoria. She gave a slow nod and met her husband’s warm gaze. “I suppose it’s best that way.”

PART IV
September 1851–January 1853

I have been commended for the success of the grades,
for the tunnels and the bridges of this road;
but there is a source of pride more grateful to me just now,
in that I have been enabled to complete the line at the
precise time I had promised.

—B
ENJAMIN
H. L
ATROBE,
J
R
.

39
Cholera

The winter of 1850 passed with ease into the new year. It had been a mild winter with little in the way of snow and storms to slow the progress on the Kingwood Tunnel. This made the work and living conditions much improved over the previous winter, and the laborers and citizens of Greigsville found much to celebrate and feel joyous about.

Spring had been equally mild, and the workers reveled in the fact that with the light rainfall, landslides and cave-ins had been minimal. But by summer it was clear that the lack of snow in the winter and rain in the spring had led them straight into a drought. Without water by which to supply the steam-powered engines on the winches and locomotives, there was no steam. And without steam, the engines could not work. Progress slowed, much to everyone’s dismay, and tempers flared, creating the first real tensions of the year. As water levels continued to drop and the creeks dried up even more, people became genuinely afraid and began seeking ways to hoard the precious commodity.

Meanwhile, the Baldwins welcomed a new member to their family on the twelfth day of June. Nicholas Baldwin was a plump, ruddy infant, with a wailing cry and a voracious appetite. Carolina found it nearly impossible to satisfy him by nursing alone and took up Miriam’s suggestion that the child be supplemented with sugar water. This seemed to agree with the child, and since the Baldwin well seemed sufficiently supplied, there wasn’t the same fear in their household of running out of water that haunted many others in the town.

The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad celebrated its July arrival at Piedmont, Maryland, some twenty-eight miles southwest of Cumberland. Then by fall, even this great accomplishment had been surpassed as the line reached Oakland, Maryland, not far from the Virginia border. Tunnels and bridges were being constructed at record paces, and everything seemed to be going well, with exception to the drought-plagued areas. Thomas Swann and his board of directors were very pleased with the anticipated completion of the line. This came in spite of the fact that the previous May had seen the celebrated achievement of the Erie Railroad in New York. The 467-mile, six-foot-gage railroad ran from the Hudson River, at a point just twenty-five miles north of New York City, and concluded in Dunkirk on Lake Erie.

Swann scoffed at the twenty-seven-million-dollar price tag on the Erie, and boasted that the Baltimore and Ohio would be completed for no more than sixteen million dollars. But even this boast required solid reserves and the cooperation of the investors. Swann felt that an injection of new money into the line was exactly what was needed to press the project forward to completion. What was not needed was the fierce cholera epidemic that hit the unsuspecting railroad workers.

Nothing rang fear in the heart of a mother more than to hear the announcement of yet another epidemic. Measles, mumps, and chicken pox were always to be endured, but epidemics of yellow fever and cholera were sporadic and unexpected. No one knew for sure how or why cholera struck. Medical reports suggested everything from poison airs secreted from the earth to the generally accepted idea that tainted water was somehow to blame. But even if doctors could agree on a cause, they seldom agreed on a cure.

Carolina watched the disease gradually take hold of the creek-side shantytown. Hundreds had fallen victim to the epidemic, and the mounting daily death tolls made it necessary to increase the size of the cemetery and eventually create another one altogether. Children were more susceptible than adults, and the Irish seemed destined to acquire the disease more often than anyone else.

Considering what little she knew of cholera, and wishing desperately that she could have access to some of the studies regarding the disease, Carolina had noted that the illness preyed especially upon those with poor standards of cleanliness. The shanties were hard to keep clean, and garbage and debris cluttered the streets and grounds surrounding the slapped-together houses. Because of this, Carolina and Miriam spent most of their waking hours cleaning their own home. This, coupled with the fact that during the outbreak Carolina refused to let the children attend the public school, seemed to work well for keeping the family healthy.

Brenton hated being cooped up in the house, but he busied himself as best he could. His activities often included tremendous battles fought with lead soldiers, which his father had purchased for him during a trip to Baltimore. Jordana, now five, also managed to keep her brother occupied. She demanded he read to her on a daily basis, and although she’d heard each of the books in Brenton’s repertoire at least a dozen times, Jordana seemed not to care.

Victoria helped with the baby, and when little Nicholas demanded his mother’s attention, Victoria assisted Miriam with the cleaning. Because the weather was fair, Carolina insisted that the windows be kept open to allow the breezes to blow through. She had read somewhere that fresh air was helpful in keeping down the growth of disease, and she meant to give it a chance.

“Mmm,” Carolina said, dusting off the flour that clung to her apron. “Those pies smell wonderful, Miriam.”

The black woman beamed a smile. “They be Mr. James’ favorites.”

“Mr. James would eat any kind of pie and call it his favorite,” Carolina said, laughing. She turned her attention back to the bread she’d just kneaded down. “I think it would be impossible for you to displease him when it comes to your cooking.”

“Yo’ cookin’ is plenty good, too,” Miriam answered. “Don’t know that I ever ’spected you to learn to cook, but yo’ mama would be right proud.”

“Yes, I think she would,” Carolina admitted. “Papa said that when the railroad runs all the way to Greigsville, he and Mama will come and stay with us for a time.”

“That will shorely be a grand day,” agreed Miriam.

“Mama,” Victoria called, coming into the kitchen, “couldn’t I just go and tidy Kiernan’s cabin a tiny bit?”

Carolina shook her head. “You know very well that I find that totally inappropriate. Miriam will see to it.”

“But, Mama,” Victoria began.

“No, Victoria. Your father may have arranged for Kiernan to live on our property, but he did not arrange for you to take over the housekeeping of that cabin.”

“But I’m going to marry him someday. I might as well take care of his things now.”

Carolina shook her head. “Victoria, nothing is settled in this matter. Your father and I have not given Kiernan permission to even court you, much less marry you.”

“I think you’re being mean,” she said, plopping down on one of the straight-backed chairs. “You just don’t care about my happiness.”

“I’d say we’ve greatly considered your happiness. Your father hired Kiernan on as an assistant so that he wouldn’t have to remain as a laborer with men who obviously hold great malice toward him. He could have sent Kiernan to Ben Latrobe, and who knows where he would have ended up on the line.”

“Papa understands,” Victoria pouted.

“No young missy has any reason to be tendin’ a man’s house. It ain’t proper,” Miriam offered in Carolina’s defense.

“But Mama did it. Mama moved in with my father and took care of me. You weren’t much older than I am now.”

Carolina covered the bread dough and wiped her hands on a towel. “Victoria Baldwin, you know perfectly well that I had no love interest in your father. I fell in love with you. Besides, there were two other women there to oversee me. Cook and Mrs. Graves kept an eye out to make certain that everything remained on the up and up.”

Victoria frowned, seeming to realize that bringing up the past wasn’t going to help her case at all. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t get sick. I care about him, even if you don’t.”

“Victoria, you are being unreasonable. Miriam and I have tended to Kiernan’s needs. We clean his place the same as ours. He eats every meal with us, with exception to lunch, and that he eats with your father. I don’t know how you can even pretend that we don’t care about his well-being.”

Carolina moved to where her daughter sat. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up. You’ll have plenty of time to clean cabins and see to the needs of a husband. Try being a child first. You may regret having thrown away these carefree days.”

“I hate being this age,” Victoria said, getting up in a huff. “I hate being young and I hate that nobody listens to me or takes me seriously.” She stomped off in the direction of the front room, and in the meantime Nicholas awoke from his nap and began to cry.

“Well, I suppose one unhappy child is much the same as the next,” Carolina said, untying her apron.

She could hear Miriam chuckling behind her, but Carolina didn’t feel much like laughing. She was truly worried about Victoria. It seemed the child was ever in search of a way to grow up faster. She was so very discontent with her lot in life that at times Carolina wondered if she would simply wake up one morning to find that Victoria and Kiernan had run off together. Her comfort came in that Kiernan seemed, at least up to this point, to be a very reliable and responsible young man. She and James had already discussed Victoria’s love interest, and James found it a satisfactory match. But, like Carolina, he agreed that time was needed to give them a better understanding of each other. He had also decided that when Christmas rolled around, he would give Kiernan permission to court Victoria.

“I’m not ready for that,” Carolina murmured as she entered the nursery.

Nicholas had worked up to a full-blown rage by the time Carolina seated herself in the rocking chair and arranged him at her breast. He was so mad, in fact, that he hardly noticed that he was finally getting his own way. He continued to scream and cry, all without benefit of tears, until Carolina finally drew his attention to the offered meal.

Having silenced his cries, Carolina couldn’t help but jump when Nicholas clamped down and began to suck. She laughed at his eagerness and cooed to him softly while he fed. “You are such a funny boy, my little Nicholas,” she whispered and touched the downy softness of his sandy brown hair. She thought he favored James’ mother, Edith. He seemed more fair than her other children, and his hair was lighter. Edith’s hair had been a sandy brown, and where hers had been streaked with gray, Nicholas’s appeared highlighted with honey tones. His plump baby fingers grasped at her offered index finger and his grip proved to be strong. Carolina knew without a doubt that should she pull upward, he would continue holding on.

As he fed, Nicholas watched her with his dark eyes. Carolina couldn’t quite decide what color they were. At times they appeared navy blue, and other times they seemed black. This was in keeping with the way Brenton’s and Jordana’s had appeared, but both of them now sported dark brown eyes. What was different about Nicholas was the intensity with which he seemed to observe everything around him.

“You are a wonder, my little son,” Carolina told the feeding baby. “I can’t help but wonder what you will do with your life. Will you follow your father’s steps and grow a desire for engineering and locomotives? Maybe you’ll be like your grandfather and become a planter.” At this, Nicholas seemed to choke a bit, and milk oozed down his chin before he resumed his meal.

Carolina laughed. “I suppose not,” she said, wiping his face as best she could.

She loved times like these best of all. Here in the nursery, she could forget about the labor unrest and cholera epidemic. Here, alone with Nicholas, she could be at complete peace.

Gently easing the baby to her shoulder, Carolina thought of the infant her sister had lost the previous year. Virginia had been terrified of having another child and swore to have no interest whatsoever in her own flesh and blood. Carolina couldn’t understand her sister’s feelings. But then, there was nothing new in this. She and Virginia had never seen eye to eye. Thinking of Virginia brought to mind a letter she’d received only yesterday. Her mother was very faithful to write and tell Carolina the news of Oakbridge. It seemed Virginia had spent the last year in various stages of recuperation. At one point, Margaret had written, she had even visited her infant daughter’s grave. Carolina wished there might be something she could say or do to help Virginia, but she knew that short of praying and maintaining a correspondence, there was little else to be done. Virginia would have to find her own way.

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