Angelina- Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO





The next several months were both trying and a period of somewhat calm adjustment. For us it was a calm that preceded our own coming personal storm.

  After Father and Colin left, Mother and I tried very hard to fill the gap made by their absence with projects to help our neighbors and friends in the growing need created by so many of our young men going off to war. My mother had never been a great joiner or organizer in the community, choosing to devote her self to her family and her garden, but she did her duty as she saw it, and encouraged me to lend my services as best I could. We traveled into Richmond on several occasions during the first few months, after Colin left to return to his ship and his nights of moonless trips across the Atlantic and Father joined a regiment attached to General Lee’s Army. I found these trips disturbed Mother far more than they did me. I saw the bustle and energy generated by a city that had become a seat of a new government, and a hub of military action, and though I was distressed by the reason for it, it was rather exciting to see. Mother saw it as an unwelcome intrusion and an affront to her fond remembrances of a more genteel, settled time.



  We were accompanied on these visits by my mother’s maid and companion, a woman who I had grown up around, named Jewel Dupree. Jewel was fascinating to me as a child, and an enigma as I grew older. According to the law and society of the day, she was considered a ‘free woman of color’. In fact, she was as light skinned as any one of us. She had come to work for us before I was born.  A girl, not even as old as I was at the beginning of the war, she was working in the kitchen of a despotic old harridan that my father had business dealings with in Richmond. My mother had gone into the kitchen to compliment Jewel on the meal and to offer her a job. Jewel had countered that while she was an excellent cook; she hated it, and would just as soon do something she hated for a woman she disliked.



My mother was amused by her wit and impressed by her independence and spunk, so she offered her a counter offer, which Jewel gladly accepted on the spot.

I knew little of her past other than she was born in New Orleans , spoke with a particular cadence that was associated with the Creoles of the region of her birth, and that she claimed to ‘see’ things. My mother pretended not to believe Jewel’s predictions but there was always something in her eyes that said she did give them due weight. I asked Jewel once what had brought her so far from her home, and she replied that, “One must go where peace and safety can be found, even if the journey is never-ending.” As I said, she was an enigma. As close as she was to my mother, and for all her care and devotion to our family, there was always a barrier that she never let anyone cross.



  As time went on, we would receive letters form Colin and Father. They were sporadic at best, but each one was a bright moment in an otherwise dismal existence. Colin wrote of life as a ship’s captain. He painted colorful stories of his crew and life in Nassau, where he had established a second home. His letters were light-hearted, belying the danger of what he did and how closely he courted death -or at the very least, imprisonment- every time he ran the blockade out of Wilmington to Nassau.



I knew from reports in the papers that Lincoln had instituted a blockade of all ports from Virginia to Texas. The shipyard in Norfolk had long been destroyed and while it had no Federal troops guarding it, it was far too dangerous for any southern captain, much less one that had his ship registered as a Confederate privateer. I knew that if Colin’s ship was captured, it would become a prize of war and his crew would be imprisoned and he with them, if he wasn’t hung or shot on the spot. I also knew that the incentives were quite good for the crew of a Federal blockade ship, for anyone from a lowly seaman to the Captain if a prize was captured, in one piece - or in many. These were facts Colin carefully avoided addressing, and while he was aware I was knew these things; I refrained from dwelling on them. I did my best to concentrate on the joy of what small bit of him I could enjoy through his letters, and prayed for the day he could come home- even for a short visit.

  Father’s letters were a mixture of life in camp and inquiries into how we were fairing. I know he wrote more personal, intimate missives to Mother, because she would tuck those away for her private moments, and I could always tell when she finished reading one, because she fairly glowed from the effect of them.



  We received other news as well. We heard from Mother’s family, her sister, brother-in-law and their family who lived in northern Virginia not far from Alexandria in Aquia. Because of the concentration of military activity in that area, my Aunt Eulalie and Uncle Henry had made the decision to leave their home in Aquia and migrate to their summer home on the Eastern Shore, near Chincoteague. Oddly, that particular region of Virginia had absented itself from secession, not wanting its oyster trade to be impeded by the northern blockade. Because of that, and its remote location, my Aunt and Uncle considered it the safest of all locations to wait out the war. They had a son with General Longstreet’s division and knew that removing themselves from easy contact with him would be hard, but they also knew it would comfort him to know his family was out of harm’s way. An invitation was extended to us as well, for they feared for our continued safety. For now we had declined. For my mother, I knew no other decision was possible. To her, Roselawn and my father were one- to leave it would be like abandoning him.



  The year ended with a very brief visit from my father on Christmas Eve, and one, just after Christmas from Colin. It seemed my father barely had time to warm himself in front of the fire, and have a holiday meal with us before he was gone again early the next morning. We consoled ourselves with the fact that it was more than many families could enjoy that year.



Colin’s visit was a bit longer due to the nature of his business. His travels were dictated by the moon and the tides. He was in fine spirits and said that while he had not had reason to pay the debt incurred by our bargain, he and Jason- his partner- had seen fit to pay up anyway.



  “You bought another ship? Even though yours is well and intact?” I asked, still somewhat suspicious. I was well acquainted with Colin’s ability to rearrange the facts for a more pleasing presentation.



“We did, indeed.” He replied with a smug little smile.



“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”



Colin sat back, took a sip of his brandy and smiled again, enjoying my confusion while he kept me waiting for his answer.



“Colin! Don’t be hateful. Explain!”



“Well, it’s really quite simple. We were a partnership of two captains with one ship. That was becoming bothersome. Like two master chefs in one kitchen.”



“And you and your partner...Captain Benedict are the master chef’s in this scenario?” I asked with a air of sarcasm.



“Yes. You know you’re usually much quicker on the uptake, little sister.”

  Colin quipped in retort.



“My apologies. I’ll try to keep up. So, who gets the new ship?”



“Well, that’s sort of interesting. Even though Jason swears that the Moonrunner is his by right of a bet that.... well, I won’t go into that. Nevertheless, he said that since I was claiming right to name the new ship, that he was laying claim to it.”



  “And you let him get away with that reasoning?” I asked, amused by the fine points of a friendship my brother had with a man I had never met. In southern society that was a rarity, especially given how close Colin and I were and the length of his friendship with Jason.



“Well, Jason’s kind of ugly, and he’s not a very good sailor, so I figured he could use all the help he could get.” Colin replied with a smirk.



“How gracious of you.” I retorted, rolling my eyes at him, giving into laughter.



This was what I missed. The easy conversation, the friendship we had always shared. I was already dreading him leaving again, though I knew it was still a few days away.



“So, did you really name the new ship for me?”



“I told you I would. Did you doubt me?”



  “No. Your partner, Jason... he was really fine with that? Perhaps there was some lady he wanted to pay homage to.”



  “Jason insisted. To tell you the truth, I think it’s one of the reasons he wanted the ship so badly.” Colin answered, his expression growing thoughtful.



  “Now you’re just being silly. He doesn’t even know me.”



  “True, but he certainly does seem to be smitten with you none the less. I swear, he’s plied me with questions about you ever since he saw your picture.”



“What picture?” I asked, unable to believe his words, but just as unable to keep myself from questioning him further.



“This one,” he said, opening his watchcase and revealing the picture that was enclosed. It was one of the whole family taken at a portrait studio in Richmond four years earlier on the occasion of my sixteenth birthday.



  “Colin, you’re a horrid brother to tease me like that. I was a child when that was taken. “

  “A child in your opinion, but obviously not in Jason’s. Of course, I informed him that since then you’ve grown quite plump, have a rather large wart on the tip of your nose, and have become cross-eyed.”



  “Cross-eyed!” I exclaimed, oddly choosing that one point to take exception to.



  “Yes, from staring at the wart.” He replied, trying to keep a straight face though he was losing the battle to impending laughter.



  I swatted his arm, and though I tried couldn’t help but give into laughter myself. “Colin, Father’s right- you are a brat.”



“But you love me all the same,” he rejoined, with a smile.



“Yes I do- in spite of the fact that you’re awful and mean, not because of it. Besides, you’ll need me someday.”



  “I’m sure you’re right, but why do you say so,” he asked, ignoring my good natured insults.



“Because... with a disposition like yours, no woman would ever put up with you. Who else will take care of you when you’re old and dotty?”



  “My sainted, cross-eyed, wart-nosed, spinster sister?”  He queried with a look of wide-eyed innocence.



  “Precisely.”  I retorted in perfect deadpan.



  “Not likely. You’ll marry some country dandy with big eyes and a sentimental heart, have a dozen children and I’ll be left to fend for myself.”



  “I somehow doubt that. There doesn’t seem anyone with whom I’d want to share my life- or anyone who would want me as I am- especially not now.” I replied, the humor of the moment gone. It was hard to come of age and think of the future in times such as these. I knew I wasn’t alone, but that didn’t lessen my sorrow at the fact.



Colin smiled and laid his hand on mine.

“Don’t be like that, Angel. You never know. Perhaps fate will intervene.”



“I don’t hold much faith in fate, brother dear. Fate is more like some misbegotten cupid without a cause, impaling unsuspecting souls with its capricious notions of what should and shouldn’t be.”



“You are far too young to be so jaded, Angelina.” Colin commented as he lit one of father’s cigars, and cast a sidelong glance at me.



“I am what life dictates me to be, brother, as are you.”  I replied.

“Now, I’m going to go to bed, and I suggest you do the same if you intend to get as early a start tomorrow as you mentioned.”  I replied as I rose and made my way toward the stairs.



“I’ll be along shortly... and Angel?”



“Yes?” I asked stopping at the doorway.



“A man would be crazy not to want you as you are.”



I smiled in return, but kept my opinions to myself.

“Good night, Colin. Sleep well.”



I felt his concerned gaze follow me out of the room. I knew he meant well, but love and a life beyond what the war allowed us seemed such a far off notion that it was hardly worth mentioning , much less thinking about. Maybe when it was all over I could think of such things. Little was I to know that the thing which I held little faith in- fate- would be about to play such a large role in managing my future.