His One Woman (10 page)

‘Take care, Miss Marietta. If you were a man I would say, Watch your back. I regret to say that I believe that there is a strain of viciousness in her such that she would stop at nothing if she thought that she could injure you. You may dismiss what I have to say as moon madness, but I beg that you will not. I shall not speak of this again, nor shall I mention it to Jack. I have only spoken to you of it on this, my last night in Washington, and that with the greatest reluctance.'

Marietta hardly knew what to say to him. ‘I think, perhaps,' she ventured hesitantly, ‘that her bark is worse than her bite. Oh, she is rude to me, I know, but I cannot believe that she would do anything actually wicked—which is what you are suggesting.'

He bowed to her. ‘Your goodness does you credit, Marietta. I can only pray that you are right.' He
leaned forward and took her hand which, unconsciously, she was twisting in her lap.

‘You will allow,' he said softly, and kissed the back of it before relinquishing it. ‘I wish you well, and Jack, too, and trust that I am wrong. Honour demands that I leave you once I have returned you to Miss Percival. I may not speak more with you.'

Marietta watched him go, straight-backed and tall, and wondered whether she would ever meet him again. He had hardly left her before Sophie rounded on her.

‘That was Charles Stanton with you, wasn't it?' she exclaimed. ‘Thank goodness he's off to the South. I shall be spared his frozen face and his boring conversation.'

She could scarcely have said anything more calculated to make Marietta wonder whether Charles's doom-laden warnings about her should be given any credence. The arrival of Jack, ready to claim his dance with her, drove Charles and Sophie out of her head. Long afterwards she was to ask herself whether her introduction to passion had made her unwary, had given her the illusion that happy endings, particularly for herself and Jack, were easy, and that Charles was exaggerating what he thought that he had seen.

Held lightly in Jack's arms, enjoying the dance and its music, Marietta surrendered to life's pleasures—something which she had rarely ever done before, and had never thought that she would.

Sophie's moanings about the war were reinforced when Washington became even more a city under siege. After the Southern sympathisers had flocked out of it, profiteers and entrepreneurs flocked in. Behind them came a large train of women, there to serve the needs of the vast body of unattached men who filled the city and found themselves idle before the fighting began.

Expensive and stately, poor and cringing, their advertisements in the daily papers made their presence known to the virtuous women of Washington. For her part Marietta found it difficult to pretend that they did not exist, nor that they were not necessary—opinions which, of course, she could not voice.

Jack privately commented to the Senator one day that only in the United States would such services be openly acknowledged, to be met with the Senator's wry answer, ‘At least, sir, we do not pretend that these women have no existence, which I believe is the attitude taken in Britain and its colonies.'

The coonskin-hatted gentleman, Brutus M. Clay, of Kaintuck, or Kentucky, whom Alan had imitated on that famous night at Willard's, went so far as to set up a Strangers' Guard, a group of vigilantes led by himself, all handsomely equipped with Bowie knives as well as hats like his. They were dedicated to maintaining law and order, as well as being ready to save Washington from subversive attack.

‘An attack from what?' joked Jack when he heard the news. ‘One might rather think that Washington might need a guard to protect it from
him
!'

‘Oh, but,' said Senator Hope quietly, ‘little though I like the man, there are many here who privately sympathise with the South, and who knows what might happen if the South suddenly seemed to be winning the war? If Clay discourages them, all to the good.'

Not for the first time Jack was compelled to face the difference between Transatlantic and European manners. There was an initiative, a sense of doing what one had to do without overmuch deference to normal forms. The frontier was never far away. Behaviour in New South Wales, he felt, lay somewhere between the two extremes.

He said so to Marietta one morning. He had driven her, the Senator and Sophie to Pennsylvania Avenue, there to cheer the entry into the capital of the 7th New York Regiment.

‘They look like the Praetorian guard of ancient Rome come to life again,' said the Senator when watching them march past. Like many of America's rulers, he was fond of a classic turn of phrase and not afraid to use it in private as well as in public.

There, on that bright morning, in the first fever of the war, when few had seen action and scarcely any lives had been lost, the soldiers were received hysterically. Even Marietta forgot that she was a lady and cheered them, there in the street, forgetting all etiquette. Only Jack, not so emotionally committed to the war, was left to wonder how many of the smil
ing boys, received with such ecstatic delight, would survive the months of fighting to come.

For the moment, however, no one was fighting and dying near Washington. Not only were the soldiers' uniforms bright and unspotted, but their presence had the charm of novelty—a novelty which would be lost when the war became bloody and brutal and dragged on and on.

For the present, though, all was new and exciting, and even when President Lincoln took on the powers of a dictator no one complained: it was the necessities of war which had compelled him, after all. Normal democratic procedures took too long, and when Lincoln realised that iron-clad warships would never be built if their orderly but slow democratic procession through various committees was adhered to, he promptly side-tracked everyone and everything by setting up a final committee and telling them to get on with the business at once.

‘Instanter,' Jack said, laughing, when he told Senator Hope the news on his return from the Capitol. He and Butler had been summoned there to give expert advice. ‘That was the word the President used to urge the legislators on. Several senior Civil Servants nearly dropped dead on the spot from shock. It appears that he thinks that it would be a good thing if they did. Once dead, they couldn't thwart him. After it was over he gave immediate orders for the building of an iron-clad to go ahead once a special panel has decided which submitted design to use.
Ezra and I think that the order is sure to go to John Ericsson and the New York yards because only they have the ability to build something so innovatory.'

‘You will be leaving us, then,' said the Senator.

Jack nodded. ‘Not immediately. The Secretary of State has asked me to be the only civilian member of the largely Naval special panel. After that I shall leave to work with whoever wins the order. I hope that it will be Ericsson. I also have to gain permission from Ezra to go to New York. He's a bit of a traditionalist, wedded to wooden ships, but even he can see where the future lies, so I'm sure he'll give it.'

Sophie, who was present, yawned her boredom while the others talked enthusiastically about the war and its ramifications. Jack's enthusiasm particularly made her want to scream. What made everything worse was that she had patently lost him—to Marietta of all people; there could be no doubt of that. All that he wanted to do these days was talk to her about the most boring things under the sun.

How could someone as attractive as Jack
want
to talk for hours on end to that plain stick? He hardly knew that Sophie existed any more. He had eyes, ears and tongue only for her—and the war, the dratted war, of course.

Marietta, on the other hand, was delighted for him. The only fly in her ointment was that he would shortly be leaving Washington.

Ezra Butler made no bones about Jack leaving him to work with Ericsson in New York. ‘All the better
for the peace when it comes,' he said. ‘We shall be up to date, our know-how will equal anyone's.'

‘True,' replied Jack. ‘It wouldn't do for Butler and Rutherfurd's to be left behind when the world turns and iron ships rule the seas. I am quite determined to work with you when that happens. I am applying for American citizenship.'

Ezra looked at him and thought of Jack's father, and thought, too, of how much he resembled him, although he would never be quite as cunning: Jack was too good-natured.

‘I'm willing to offer you a full partnership,' he said, thinking of Jack's wealth as well as his know-how. ‘If you've half your pa's savvy you'll be a real acquisition—and God help our rivals.'

‘Oh, I'm not the Patriarch,' said Jack gaily. ‘There'll never be another like him.'

It was a judgement which he was to remember years later, in very different circumstances, when he was compelled to acknowledge ruefully that foretelling the future is a tricky business—particularly when the Patriarch's unlikely re-incarnation had not even been born!

‘We are, of course,' he added, ‘assuming that the North will win the war.'

‘Not a doubt of it,' asserted Ezra robustly. ‘It will take some time, though. There are fools who think that one big battle will end it soon. Besides, we're not as ready as they are. I heard today that General Beauregard and his Secessionist army are only thirty miles away, and our troops are even greener and
more raw than his are, and that is saying something! I fear that there will be a battle soon and that the North will not win it. On the other hand, the longer the war lasts the more certain we are to win it, and the less the South's chances are.'

Jack nodded agreement. He, too, had been listening to the generals and politicians talking.

‘There is one point which is worth considering. If the Southern army is so near to Washington and it does win a major battle, what is to prevent Beauregard from advancing on the capital and taking it—and so ending the war in their favour before it has even begun?'

‘There is that,' said Ezra, nodding. ‘But my bones say otherwise.'

‘Mine, too. Let us hope that they are speaking the truth—even if that means that we shall have a long and difficult road to travel before peace is restored.'

Neither Jack nor Ezra shared in the foolish optimism with which the majority of Washington's citizens faced the coming war. Jack wondered how long it would be before he saw Marietta again once he had left for New York. Never before had the prospect of leaving a woman behind touched his heart.

How was it that I was once able to love 'em and leave 'em so easily? And that is not a difficult question to answer: I hadn't met Marietta Hope then!

‘R
eally, Mama, it is more than time that we had the battle which will end this war,' announced Sophie. ‘All the eligible men have left to fight it and only the dull and the crippled remain behind. Thank God Jack hasn't gone to New York yet. At least I have one healthy partner left to dance with.'

July had arrived and Jack was still in Washington. Despite the President's cutting of constitutional corners, it had taken quite a long time for designs for a new iron-clad warship to be submitted and examined. Neither had the war progressed in any material fashion. General Beauregard still sat and faced Washington, maintaining an ever-present threat. He was waiting for General Joe Johnston to bring up enough troops from the South by using the nearby railroad to make an assault on the capital possible.

Mrs Hamilton Hope said indulgently, ‘Well, count your blessings then, my dear. Your papa tells me that the committee are near to reaching a conclusion and
it may not be long before Mr Dilhorne leaves Washington.'

‘What a bore,' wailed Sophie angrily. Marietta, sitting in a corner, engaged in canvas work, was grateful that she was no longer responsible for her. Sophie's parents, Mr and Mrs Hamilton Hope, had retreated to the capital from their Maryland estate whose safety they thought was threatened by the nearness of raiding Southern troops. Senator Hope had left for Boston on business while Aunt Percival had been called upon to act as midwife for yet another Percival relation, so that she, too, was absent from Washington.

Consequently Marietta had moved in to the Hamilton Hopes' residence at their request. ‘You cannot be left on your own in that great house, child,' Mrs Hope had exclaimed, as though Marietta was no older, nor more responsible, than Sophie herself. ‘You must come and stay with us.'

It would have been impolite to refuse, little though Marietta wished to leave her own well-run, comfortable home. She also missed Aunt Percival's earthy common sense, which had little patience with Sophie's whim whams, as she called them.

Aunt Percival, indeed, would have had little truck with Sophie's latest proposal with which she was now bombarding her parents. She had been visiting Senator Eakins's daughter Charlotte and was big with news.

‘The Senator says that at last something exciting is going to happen. It is nothing less than a great
battle near Centerville which will end this horrid war. General McDowell is on the march and the Senator is going to take Charlotte and her mama to watch the battle, and he has suggested that Papa might like to take us all along with them. Do say yes, Papa, we may never get the chance again if we whip the Rebs straight away, for the Senator says that if we do—and we're sure to—the war will end immediately.'

Neither Sophie's father nor her mother ever opposed her wishes in anything, not even when it concerned such a dubious scheme as Marietta thought this to be. Like most of their friends, they had no notion of what war, or a battle, was really like, and when it became apparent that the majority of their circle was preparing to ride out to watch one they, too, decided to have a ringside seat. This was a frequent expression which Hamilton Hope used when he was talking to his friends in what he thought was a manly fashion.

Marietta's protests were in vain. She had no wish to see the battle herself, and thought that it was neither safe nor proper for the Hopes to indulge themselves in undertaking such a dangerous expedition.

‘People will be killed,' she said earnestly. ‘We might even get caught up in the battle itself. I am sure that when we have arrived there—if we arrive there safely—we shall not like what we are sure to see.'

‘Oh, you are always a spoilsport,' exclaimed Sophie crossly. ‘The first time anything interesting hap
pens you wish to put a damper on it. You really are a wet blanket, Marietta.'

Her annoyance with Marietta since Jack had defected to her could not be contained: it burst out all the time.

It was useless for Marietta to argue, to talk of blood, broken limbs and death.

‘We shall not really be very near,' said Hamilton Hope comfortably, ‘and if it looks as though it may be growing dangerous we shall leave instanter, you may be sure of that.'

‘But it is not an entertainment,' said Marietta desperately. ‘Young men will be dying, real young men shedding real blood. It will not be a play.'

‘Pooh, then,' said Sophie rudely. ‘You need not come. I would never have thought that you would be a coward, Marietta, but then, you have never done anything exciting in your whole life, have you? Life, in fact, has passed you by.' The look which she then gave Marietta was both patronising and scornful.

This stung. ‘I am not a coward,' said Marietta stiffly. ‘But I find the whole thing unseemly and immoral.'

‘Immoral!' said Sophie, raising her eyes to heaven. ‘We are fighting a war to end slavery and Marietta finds it immoral!'

The urge to slap Sophie had never been so strong, and only the presence of Sophie's doting parents restrained Marietta.

‘I am sure,' said Hamilton Hope, ‘that you will wish to accompany us, Marietta. It will be something
for you to tell your grandchildren.' Privately, though, he thought that his ramrod-straight niece was highly unlikely to have any. What man would want such a cold piece?

It was useless, thought Marietta wearily, quite useless to continue to protest. The Hamilton Hopes were plainly going to consider it an insult to Sophie and themselves if she did not accompany them.

‘Very well,' she said at last. ‘I will go with you, but under protest, mind. I think that the whole expedition is quite mistaken.'

‘Whoever would have thought that my brother Jacobus would have such a self-righteous and plain old maid for a daughter,' said Hamilton Hope to his wife later. ‘Really, the woman is impossible. She is so sure of herself that she will be prating about Womens' Rights next!'

‘I must own that I, too, am a little worried about going on such an expedition. It could be dangerous,' said his wife hesitantly, but she was not allowed to continue: Mr Hope was not to be deprived of his pleasure.

‘Nonsense,' he returned robustly. ‘Sophie has more spirit than both of you put together. I don't wonder that Marietta has never married. Who would want such a rigid opinionated stick? Sophie is right. And when I think of her lovely mother!' He sighed and shook his head.

Marietta wished that she could have had Jack's advice, but he had been out of Washington on busi
ness with Ezra and so had not visited the Hamilton Hopes in the week since she had been their guest. She was not to know that Jack, on his return that day, had decided to make the journey to watch the battle, not as an entertainment but because he wished to see artillery in action.

He had asked Ezra to accompany him, but Ezra had drily replied that it was enough for him to make weapons of war without wishing to watch them in action, but if Jack thought it useful to go then he wished him well.

‘You are not worried about being caught up in the battle?' he asked.

‘Do you think that there's much chance of that?' said Jack, who possessed a cheerful optimism which his father and older brothers had sometimes deplored.

‘Depends,' said Ezra. ‘Battles aren't chess games, you know. They're not orderly things. They stray about, I'm told, and are liable to start in one place and finish in another.'

‘I'll take my chances,' said Jack. ‘I shan't be fighting myself, and I would like to see how what we make is used. It may give me ideas for further developments.'

Later in the war he was to look back at his foolish self in some wonder: he had learned to take as few risks as possible. He would, however, have been horrified to learn that the Hamilton Hopes were going and intended to take Sophie and Marietta with them.

Fortunately for his peace of mind he remained un
aware of their plans. He packed a meal of sandwiches and fruit in a canvas bag, together with a sketch book, pencils and coloured chalks. When he made his way to the livery stables to hire a carriage, he discovered that half Washington, or so it appeared, was determined to see the battle, and consequently the price of hire had risen to great heights.

Russell of
The Times
was there, trying to make his way to the battle. He was arguing vigorously with the keeper of the stables, and finally had to settle for a sum far higher than he had originally hoped for.

The keeper, however, knew Jack, and let him have something more reasonable, whispering behind his hand after Russell had gone that ‘damned insolent Britishers who write unpleasant stories about our great and free nation deserve to pay over the odds for anything they want'.

Jack counted himself fortunate to end up with a buggy, a coloured boy for a driver, and a frayed-looking animal which proved to be more reliable than it looked at first sight.

The boy was a cheerful young chap who remained optimistic throughout the ups and downs of the rest of the day. He assured Jack that ‘our side' would whip the Rebels so thoroughly that the war would be over before it had started, and that he wanted to be there to see this famous victory.

Jack was a little troubled by all the careless optimism flowing so freely around Washington. He thought of what Russell had privately told him and would publicly write: that the North still had no real
idea of how harsh and bitter the war would inevitably be.

He was astonished by the number of carts, carriages, buggies and wagons, both privately owned and hired, which set out from Washington in the early morning sun in the wake of McDowell's troops.

He had taken the opportunity to have a private word with Russell before
The Times
man left. Russell had told him of his reservations about the civilians who were setting out so cheerfully to enjoy what they thought was going to be a day's fun.

‘They should have been in the Crimea,' he said morosely, ‘and have seen what happened there to civilians silly enough to want to watch a battle. War's not a picnic or a spectacle to be enjoyed, whatever ignorant fools who have never experienced it may think.'

He had already said something similar to his Washington acquaintances who had arranged to go, and they had jeered at him for being an over-cautious Brit. After that he had held his tongue. Time would show them who was right, he thought.

Riding in the middle of the concourse which was setting out so gaily were Hamilton Hope, his wife, his daughter and his niece. It was pleasant in the clear early-morning air before the day grew hot. They had had to make a prompt start to ensure that their long journey would be safely completed, leaving time for both horses and passengers to rest before returning home.

Marietta had decided that, if she were compelled to join what she thought of as an ill-advised expedition, she would at least try to savour the experience even if she thought it regrettable. Sophie had dressed herself impressively for the trip, as though she were going to a ball. She was wearing an elaborate white dress over a crinoline cage so large that she took up most of the carriage. Her shoes were of light kid, almost slippers.

She jeered openly at Marietta who was wearing a plain dark dress with few skirts and no crinoline cage, as well as sturdy, sensible walking shoes. Marietta said quietly in reply to her cousin's criticisms that it was possible that she might need to be able to walk unhampered.

‘We are riding in a carriage,' said Sophie severely. ‘I do not intend to walk.'

‘Who knows what we might need to do before the day is over?' countered Marietta.

The Hopes had taken an enormous amount of food with them, enough for a banquet, and Marietta privately thought that the whole thing was most improper, never mind the fact that many others, including Senators and Congressmen as well as their wives and children, had come along on the outing similarly laden.

The day grew hotter as they rolled along the dusty roads, and she tried not to think of all the vibrant young men who would be dead by nightfall. They were still some distance from the supposed site of the battle when they first heard the distant thunder
of cannon. Although low and muted, it was insistent and non-stop.

Nothing deterred the sensation-seekers from Washington. They pressed on towards Centerville, finding when at last they reached it that it was a small sleepy hamlet, barely a town, which had been elevated into history by the chance of the main Confederate attack being near it.

Like many of the small towns in the district it had been looted by the very Union troops supposedly sent to protect it, but this didn't stop its inhabitants from cheering everyone and everything which passed through, including the many civilians who had been arriving since early morning.

Sophie looked around her. Her face, which had been one smile when they set out, had grown increasingly worried when the noise of the cannon grew louder and louder. She was relieved to discover that beyond Centerville was a hill, the only high ground in the area, and it was here that the Hope party found that the spectators' carriages were already drawn up. Below the hill the battle was already raging, and a mob of men stood around the carriages trying to make out exactly what was happening through the trees, the scrub and the several miles which stood between them and the armies of the North and the South.

‘Time to get out and stretch our legs,' said Hamilton Hope cheerfully, ‘and have a bite to eat.'

‘Oh, need I get down, Papa?' wailed Sophie. ‘I would much prefer to stay where I am. They are
saying that there is little to see as yet. I do so hope that we've not come all this way for nothing.'

Marietta, despite her reservations, was curious enough to be helped down to walk to the point where most of the spectators were gathered, talking, eating and drinking as though they were at a ball or a reception. She had expected to see blood and destruction everywhere, but Sophie was right: little was visible from where they stood.