Fire by Night Page 8

  Arthur was quiet as they settled inside his enclosed carriage and began to ride. Then he leaned close. “I gave Reverend Greene one hundred dollars tonight for his Christian Commission. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

  “A reward? What do you mean?”

  “How about a little kiss? Right here.” He pointed to his cheek.

  Julia knew that Arthur had only attended the bazaar for her sake. It had been very kind of him to support her cause. She decided to oblige and moved closer to kiss his cheek. But as soon as her lips touched his face, he quickly turned his mouth to hers, kissing her fully on the lips. When she tried to pull away, he held the back of her head so she couldn’t escape until he was finished.

  “How dare you!” she said when she finally squirmed away. She was afraid she was going to cry. Julia had never been kissed before, although she had long imagined what it would be like, practicing with her pillow in bed at night, pretending it was the man she loved. She had never imagined her first kiss to be stolen from her this way, against her will. She wiped her mouth to rid it of Arthur’s touch, feeling as if she’d been robbed. He saw her reaction and frowned.

  “I asked nicely, Julia. Besides, one little kiss is the very least you owe me for being patient tonight. Not to mention generous.”

  “A kiss isn’t given in payment for something,” she said, her voice shaking. “It’s a sign of affection between two people who care for each other.”

  “I do care for you,” he said, taking her hand in both of his. “And I assumed that you cared for me, too, or you wouldn’t have allowed me to court you all these weeks.”

  She pulled her hand away. “Take me home, Arthur.”

  “Oh, don’t be childish! It was just a kiss. Besides, did you think I’d wait forever? I’m hardly a monk like your sainted friend Reverend Greene.”

  The tears she’d been holding back filled her eyes at the mention of Nathaniel’s name. “I’d like to go home,” she repeated.

  “Fine!” He rapped on the window to give the coachman the order, then slouched against the seat with his arms crossed. Arthur didn’t look handsome at all when he was angry. “I was warned that courting you would be a challenge, Julia—like Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew. I usually enjoy a challenge, but tonight I find your attitude ridiculous.”

  Her tears quickly turned to fury at his words. “Since you consider me such a shrew, I suggest you find someone else to take to the Christmas ball. I no longer care to go with you.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, twisting around to face her. “That ball is next week, and I’m not changing my plans now. I’ve invested a great deal of my time courting you, and I don’t intend to see it all wasted just because I stole a silly kiss. There are plenty of other women who would have been grateful for my company all these weeks—and not nearly as stingy with their affection.”

  “Then you can just take one of them to the ball.”

  Arthur looked furious. “You’d better think twice before you cancel a date with me,” he said, wagging his finger in her face. “I’ll spread the truth about your coldness all over Philadelphia, and you’ll be lucky to find yourself with any suitors at all.”

  Julia knew Arthur could make good on his threat, and probably would, but she didn’t care. She grabbed his waving finger and pushed it aside. “Do you really think you can win a woman’s heart with threats?”

  “I wonder if you even have a heart, Julia. If you do, it’s as cold as stone. I respect your father a great deal, which is why I agreed to court you. But I may have to speak with him about your behavior.”

  Julia closed her eyes, and the tears she’d been holding back began to flow at the thought of disappointing her father. Was it really true that she had a cold heart? Was that the reason she had turned her back on those wounded soldiers?

  Neither she nor Arthur spoke again until the carriage came to a halt at last in front of her house. Julia might have relented and given him one more chance if she hadn’t opened her eyes in time to see the look of smug satisfaction on his face.

  “I’ll accept those tears as your apology,” he said, taking her chin in his hand, “and I’ll pick you up for the ball as planned.”

  Julia’s entire body began to tremble with rage. She pushed his hand away a second time. “I don’t care what you tell my father,” she said. “I don’t care if you’re the last bachelor in Philadelphia. I’d sooner die an old maid than spend my life with a man who thinks he can buy a woman’s affections—not to mention a man who bullies and bribes and threatens her to get his own way. Good-bye, Arthur. Please don’t ever call on me again.” She jumped down from the carriage and ran up the walk to the front door, praying he wouldn’t follow her.

  Julia’s father met her in the foyer as she stepped inside. The smile on his face turned to a look of bewilderment as she slammed the door behind her. “Where’s Arthur? We were supposed to have a drink together.”

  “I know you think highly of him…” she began, trying to control her tears.

  “What’s the matter? Did you two have a tiff?”

  “I can’t stand him, Father! He’s arrogant and overbearing, and …and he acts as if he owns me!” She could no longer hold back her tears. They seemed to unnerve her father more than her words.

  “Oh, good heavens. Where’s your mother? Martha…”

  “No, don’t call Mother. I’m all right. I’ll stop.” Julia quickly pulled herself together. She had tried to make her mother understand how she felt and had gotten nowhere. Her father was her last hope. “I don’t want to talk to Mother, I want to talk to you.”

  “To me?” he said in alarm. “What about?”

  Julia felt so desperate to explain her unhappiness to her father that her words came out in a rush. “I can’t live this way anymore. I don’t want to stay here and court Arthur—or anyone else. I want to go back to Washington or wherever the war is and become a nurse.

  I want to help soldiers—” “Absolutely not!”

  “Please, Daddy. If I could just—”

  “That sort of work is beneath you. You’re a young woman of the highest social standing, not a common working girl or servant. Besides, it’s highly improper for an unmarried woman to live and work in those army camps amongst such huge masses of men. Do you want to be branded ‘immoral’? No one will ever marry you.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want to get married, especially to a man like Arthur, who thinks he owns me.”

  “Now, Julia—”

  “I’m terrified at the thought of being trapped with a man I don’t love, the way Rosalie is. And I don’t think I could stand living a life like Mother’s with nothing to look forward to day after day, year after year but endless teas and boring charity events. I want my life to matter!”

  He gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “How dare you insult your mother! Her life isn’t worthless—”

  “It is compared to Florence Nightingale’s life.”

  “Where are these foolish ideas coming from? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten mixed up in the suffrage movement?”

  “I don’t want to vote, Daddy,” she said in exasperation, “I want to be a nurse. Reverend Greene spoke tonight about the need for volunteers to join the Christian Commission. That’s what I want to do. I want to join the Commission and go into the field.”

  “One sermon, Julia, and you’re ready to throw away the life you’ve always known?” His grip tightened, as if he could squeeze such foolish ideas out of her like wringing water from a cloth. “You’d better think this through carefully, because you can’t have it both ways. Do you want respectability and a position in society, a decent husband and a civilized life—or do you want to flit around, ‘mattering’ like some radical suffragette? Those are two opposing things. Now, I won’t hear any more of this foolishness,” he said, finally releasing her. “And I’m certainly not allowing you to run away just because you’ve had a spat with your beau.”

  “You’re not listeni
ng to me! You’re a judge, Daddy. You’re supposed to listen to people and be fair and impartial.”

  “It’s impossible to be impartial when I’m responsible for you.”

  “But you’re not responsible for me anymore. I’m an adult now. I can do what I want with my life.”

  “Don’t be absurd. You’re a woman, and women need to be protected and shielded all their lives. That’s a father’s job until a woman finds a husband, then the job becomes his. That’s the way civilized societies function.”

  On some level, Julia had always known that she would go from being under her father’s protection and authority to being under her husband’s. But hearing the truth put so bluntly made her feel trapped and more desperate than ever to escape. She wanted to scream in frustration, but she knew she’d never change her father’s mind by becoming hysterical. The way to win him over was through calm reason and logic—and by letting a man argue her case.

  “I’ll only ask you for one thing, Daddy,” she said, fighting to control her tears. “Come with me and talk to Reverend Greene yourself. Let him explain what the Christian Commission does and tell you about the need for volunteers. Then you can decide whether or not it’s proper for me to go with him.”

  Three days later, Julia and her father sat in the Christian Commission’s tiny downtown office with Reverend Greene. The minister spent several minutes enthusiastically explaining the group’s goals and principles, probably expecting a sizable donation from Judge Hoffman, who listened in stern silence.

  “Any monetary contributions are being spent to purchase Bibles,” Greene finished. “We’re staffed by volunteers, as you know, who donate a few weeks or months of their time to go into the field with our soldiers. I’ll be going as a volunteer myself this spring to distribute the items we collected at the bazaar. By the way, Miss Hoffman,” he said, turning to Julia, “I want to thank you again for all your hard work. The event was an enormous success.”

  “I’m glad.” She saw respect in his gray-blue eyes and summoned the courage to plunge ahead, not waiting for her father. “The reason we’ve come, Reverend, is because I was quite moved by your words on the night of the bazaar. I would like to volunteer my time to work for the Commission.”

  “Wonderful! We certainly could use your help in organizing more events like the last one. Any funds you raise will be greatly appreciated by—”

  “That’s not what I mean. I want to go out in the field as a volunteer.”

  His warm smile faded. He looked from Julia to her father, then back to Julia with an expression of concern. “I’m very sorry if my words were misleading the other night. While it’s true that we do need volunteers, I’m afraid that it would be out of the question to accept an unmarried woman as a delegate.”

  “But …but why?” Julia’s disappointment was so great the words sprang from her mouth before she could stop them. “That’s not fair!”

  “I’m sorry …but surely you understand, Judge Hoffman. Our volunteers live in tents alongside thousands of soldiers. There are a few female volunteers, but they are all married women.”

  “Yes, I do understand,” Julia’s father replied. “I tried to explain this to my daughter, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I thought she might accept it better if it came directly from you. Thank you for your time.” He stood to go. Julia was unable to move from her chair.

  “Please, you said you needed nurses,” she begged. “That’s what I want to be. Isn’t there any way?”

  “Women from your station in life simply don’t do that sort of work,” her father insisted. “Come now. We don’t want to take any more of Reverend Greene’s time.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Greene said, “but that’s not quite true. Dorothea Dix has been appointed the Director of Nurses inWashington, and I assure you that the women she’s training to become nurses have come from the finest of backgrounds, just like your daughter.”

  “Is that so? Does she accept unmarried women?”

  “Well, I’m not sure, but Miss Dix herself is single. And I know that the need for nurses is very great. If Julia is serious about becoming a nurse—”

  “I am,” she said. “I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and it’s what I want to do.”

  “Then I suggest you write to Miss Dix for a list of her qualifications,” Nathaniel said. “In the meantime, you could gather a few letters of recommendation to accompany your application.”

  Buoyed by hope, Julia wrote to the Director of Nurses inWashington that same day. The stiff reply she received from Miss Dix’s office, outlining the qualifications for army nurses, didn’t discourage her in the least:

  No young ladies should be sent at all; only mature women who are sober, earnest, self-sacrificing, and self-sustained; who can bear the presence of suffering and exercise entire self-control of speech and manner; who can be calm, gentle, quiet, active, and steadfast in duty. All nurses are required to be plain-looking women. Their dresses must be brown or black, with no bows, no curls, no jewelry, and no hoop skirts.

  Julia paid a visit to their family doctor, explaining that she wanted to become an army nurse and asking him for a letter of reference.

  “It’s no use going to Miss Dix,” Dr. Lowe told her. “She will send you right back. You’re much too young.”

  “Will you write the letter anyway?” she pleaded. “I need you to testify to my good character, my upbringing and sincerity. Please, just give me a chance.”

  When Congressman Rhodes returned to Philadelphia for the holiday break, she asked him the same thing. He stared at her in disbelief.

  “Bull Run was a terrible experience for all of us. Why on earth would you want to be exposed to such sights again?”

  “I have to go back. I’m so ashamed of my actions that day, and I know that I could do better this time. Please, I want to help.”

  “The scenes you witnessed on that battlefield won’t look any different the second time around,” he said.

  “The bombs frightened me, falling as close as they did. If I worked in a hospital, I know I could keep my wits about me. I could help those poor wounded men.”

  “Do you have your father’s permission, Julia?” he asked quietly.

  “Well, to be honest, he’s not at all happy about my decision. But he’s allowing me to pursue it. He says that if Miss Dix accepts me, he’ll support me. All I need from you, Congressman, is a letter of recommendation.”

  He sighed and gave her what she’d asked for.

  Armed with letters from him, Dr. Lowe, and the retired pastor of her church, Julia went into her father’s study one night and begged him to allow her to go to Washington after the first of the year and apply in person to Miss Dix. He looked at her with such distaste, she might just as well have been requesting permission to rob a bank.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time, Julia—forget this foolishness and settle down to a respectable life.” He sat stiffly behind his desk, appealing to her as a judge might appeal to a criminal to forsake a life of crime. “Why would you want to sacrifice what you have always known, a life that is safe and comfortable and predictable, to venture into the unknown? Don’t you realize that if you take such a risk, you might never get this life back again?”

  “I don’t want this life,” she said. But she spoke the words very softly, not sure she believed them. She told herself that it wasn’t just a boring, vain existence she was casting aside but the person she feared she would become if she stayed home, the woman Nathaniel had called shallow and spoiled and unbearably self-absorbed.

  “In many ways you’ve been sheltered from the world,” her father continued. “And now, for some strange reason, you’ve analyzed the way you live, the life your mother and I have worked hard to give you, and you’ve seen only its faults. What I fear is that you will finally come to appreciate what you’ve been given only after you’ve seen the ugliness in the world—and by then it might be too late. You might have lost your chances for a decent husband and a respecta
ble life.”

  Julia couldn’t reply. Deep inside she feared the same thing, feared that she was about to make an irreparable mistake. Should she take the risk?

  “Surely there is one young man in all of Philadelphia,” he said, “who might appeal to you if you gave him a chance?”

  She was surprised to find herself thinking of Nathaniel. Even though she knew his low opinion of her, she still dreamed that he would see her in a different light once she became a nurse, that he’d discover she had changed and would fall in love with her at last.

  “I’m not ready to settle down,” she told her father. “If you force me to marry, I’ll be miserable.”

  “Then why not take a trip abroad—visit London, perhaps, or France?”

  “I don’t like the ocean. Please, Daddy, let me try my hand at being a nurse for a few months. If you let me go to Washington, I promise I’ll take courting seriously when I come home.”

  He leaned toward her, his eyes soft, as if he’d suddenly stripped off his judge’s robes and allowed himself to be her father. “Do I have your word on that, Julia? You will truly settle down if I let you try this?”

  She felt a shiver of excitement. He was really going to let her go. “Yes, I promise.”

  “You do realize that you cannot go without a chaperone.” He leaned back in his chair, the analytical judge once again. The tender moment had passed. “And it may be as late as next summer before your mother is free to accompany you.”

  Julia saw this excuse for what it was—a delaying tactic. Her father hoped she would change her mind before next summer. She knew that she wouldn’t. In fact, the delay would only make her more restlessly unhappy than she already was.

  “Maybe Aunt Eunice could take me,” she said, thinking quickly.

  Her father’s spinster sister adored Julia. She could sweet talk Aunt Eunice into anything.

  “You may ask her,” he said reluctantly, “but she has social obligations, too. If she agrees to accompany you, I’ll agree to let you go. If not…”