other way now, pretending you're not--
Well, you understand. If you start a school, they won't be so tolerant."
Madeline's face was white. She had expected someone, someday, to threaten her about her parentage, but she'd never expected it would be her brother-in-law.
"Here's the tea."
Curls bobbing, Judith brought a tray of chipped cups and saucers down the stairs. On the last iron step she halted, aware of the storm on her husband's face.
"I'm afraid Madeline is leaving," he said. "She only stopped by to tell me something about Mont Royal. Thank you for your courtesy, Madeline. For your own sake, I urge you to change your mind. Good day."
He turned his back and hunted under the azalea for the crushed drawings. Judith remained on the step, stunned by the rudeness. Madeline,
concealing her hurt, patted Judith's arm, hurried up the noisy iron stairs, and ran from the house.
. . . There it rests for the moment. I fear I' we made him my enemy. If so, my sweet Orry, then at least I have lost his friend11 ship in a worthy cause.
i
I*
Lost Causes 63
A message came! And only two weeks after my visit to Col.
Munro. The Freedmen's Aid Society of the Methodist Episcopal church, Cincinnati, will send us a teacher. Her name is Prudence Chaffee.
Cooper silent. No sign of retaliation yet.
The U.S. Army trained cavalry recruits at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri
. The camp of instruction was located on the west bank of the Page 70
Mississippi, a few miles south of St. Louis.
When Charles arrived there, a contract surgeon examined him for false teeth, visible tumors, and signs of venereal disease and alcoholism.
Pronounced fit, he was marched away, along with a former corset salesman from Hartford who said he craved adventure, a New York City roughneck who said little and probably was running away from a lot, an Indiana carpenter who said he'd awakened one morning to discover he hated his wife, a chatterbox boy who said he'd lied about his age, and a handsome man who said nothing. When the recruits reached a ramshackle barracks, the white-haired corporal pointed to the silent man.
"French Foreign Legion. Can't hardly speak no English. Jesus an'
Mary, don't we get 'em all? And for a rotten thirteen dollars a month."
He studied Charles. "I seen your papers. Reb, wasn't you?"
Charles was edgy about that. He'd already drawn some sharp looks because of his accent, and had heard "Goddamn traitor" behind his back once. He wanted to snap at the corporal, but he remembered Jack Duncan's caution and just said, "Yes."
"Well, it don't matter to me. My first cousin Fielding, he was a Reb, too. If you're as good a soldier as him, you'll be more use to Uncle Sam than the rest of this flotsam. Good luck." He stepped back and yelled, "All right, you people. Through that door and find a bunk.
Hurry it up! This ain't a goddamn hotel you're checkin' into."
Charles took the oath to support and defend the Constitution. He had no problem with that; he'd already taken it once, at West Point.
64
Lost Causes 65
And when the war ended, he'd made up his mind to raise his son as an American, not a Southerner.
It did seem strange to be issued so much blue again. The light blue kersey trousers with the yellow stripes and the dull gray fatigue shirts reminded him of the Second Cavalry. So did the barracks, with its poor ventilation, smoky lamps, narrow slot windows at each end, and sounds of scurrying rodents at night. So did his Army cot, an iron-framed torture device with wood slats and stringers and a mattress shell filled with smelly straw. So did the Army food, especially the hardtack and the beef served up in tough slices at noon mess, then submerged in a sludgy Page 71
gravy for supper; the meat tasted better with the gravy, which masked the faint odor of spoilage.
Jefferson Barracks proved to be not so much a training center as a holding pen. Recruits were sent out as soon as a regiment's required number of replacements could be
M. J. Arlidge
J.W. McKenna
Unknown
J. R. Roberts
Jacqueline Wulf
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M. G. Morgan
Raffaella Barker
E.R. Baine
Stacia Stone