Robert slapped him on the back and laughed. “Alex, this woman has traveled all over the east coast with her parents and even spent some time in Europe. In fact, she is teaching school and making quite an excellent reputation for a first year teacher.”
Seeing how uncomfortable Robert’s remarks had made Alex, Lucretia leaned over and gave him light kiss on the cheek. “We’re treating you horribly, Alex. This teasing has got to stop. Robert and I only tease people we like and I do think you are a charming young man.”
Satisfied that he had been accepted and forgiven by Lucretia, Alex smiled.
“To answer your question, Alex, I have been to a lot of places but I’ve never had the pleasure of attending an opera and I’ve never been to Philadelphia during Christmas. This has all been fascinating to me. I’ve never had so much fun,” Lucretia said.
“If you stay with me, this will be only the beginning of things to come,” Robert said, taking Lucretia’s hand and giving it a gentle kiss.
For a moment the trio was silent as they watched the snow outside flutter down in large flakes. Then a solemn expression came over Alex. “I guess you heard about my father.”
“What are you talking about?” Robert asked.
Alex cleared his throat and in a low voice replied, “He was killed during the war. Somewhere down in Georgia. Somewhere called Kennesaw.”
Lucretia reached over and clasped his hand. “I’m sorry, Alex. That war was a dreadful thing. It should have never happened. Too many fathers and sons were sacrificed.”
“I had no idea, Alex,” Robert said. “How’s the family holding up?”
“We’re doing fine. My mother already knew more about the family business than Dad. But the reason I didn’t go to New York was because we couldn’t afford the expense of college.”
“What are you doing now?” Robert asked.
“I’m working in the business and maybe one day I’ll be able to go back to school.”
Robert was quiet for a moment, then exclaimed, “I wish they’d shot Davis, Lee and the whole damned Rebel army after the surrender. Those people down there with their slave holdings aren’t nothing but animals. They should have killed them all.”
An older man at the next table who was obviously intoxicated replied, “Young man, I tried my best and I killed more than I can count on my fingers and toes. Never took a prisoner after I heard that them devils killed one of my sons. Hell’s gonna be full on them gray-clad devils.”
Extending his hand toward Robert he muttered, “I’m Amos Jones. Captain Amos Jones formally of the fourth New York Infantry.”
Surprised at the remarks that had been made, Lucretia stammered, “There are good people in both the North and South. It’s the politicians that should be held responsible for the bloodshed. They start the wars and the common citizen pays the cost. It’s those politicians who ought to burn in hell. Those southern boys were no different from ours. And, most southerners don’t even hold slaves.”
Stumbling out of his chair Jones raised his glass and getting the attention of those around, he exclaimed, “Well folks, it appears we have a Southern sympathizer with us here tonight. I’d like to make a toast to the pretty Southern Belle. I guess she comes from Georgia or perhaps Alabama.”
Robert immediately rose to his feet and with clinched fist said. “Sir, this woman is no Southern sympathizer and in fact she served as a nurse to our soldiers after the battle of Gettysburg. You will apologize to her.”
With a smurk on his face the drunk replied, “You sure are a mighty scrawny twirp to be talking so big. I bet you never served in the army, did you? “
Alex got to his feet. “He might be scrawny but there are at least two of us who’ll shut your filthy mouth.”
No sooner had Alex finished, than the hotel manager and a policeman entered the room and hurried over to where they stood. Pushing the drunk away from Robert, he said, “Mister, you’ve had too much to drink and for you two young men, there won’t be any fist a cuffs in this establishment. It’s getting late and I think it’s time for all of you to retire for the evening.”
Robert took Lucretia by the arm, relieved that he did not have to tangle with the man. “We were not bothering anyone until he insulted Miss Caulder. I owe no apologies for my behavior. Lucretia, you and Alex wait here while I take care of dinner.”
Standing there at the window, watching the snow floating and swirling in all directions, Lucretia thought how proud she was of the way Robert had defended her. The man, much older and stronger, would have probably beaten both Robert and Alex. There was so much to admire in Robert. A girl would be foolish not to marry him, she reasoned. Then seeing a lone man standing outside waiting in the cold, her mind wondered back to the war years. They were boys just like ours except they were far from home, not knowing if they would ever see their love ones again, she thought. The man turned toward her and seeing her gaze, smiled and gave her a faint wave. For a moment she imagined him to be the boy she had met years before. She could see that dark curly hair, sparkling blue eyes and sheepish smile, as she told the young soldier that she was fourteen, and standing there on the tips of her toes, she received her first kiss.
Phoenix Hotel, Meridian, Mississippi, January, 1869
The men hushed their talk when they heard two taps on the door followed by a harder knock. During the evening they could hear loud talking, cursing and occasionally a gunshot from outside. This was a typical Saturday night in Meridian.
“Ralph, check the door. It sounds like one of ours.”
“Yes sir,” came the reply.
Ralph eased the door open and, recognizing the men standing in the hall, motioned them in whispering, “Anybody see you come in?”
“Not on your life, Ralph. There’s too much of a ruckus going on in the streets tonight for anyone to pay any attention to the likes of me and Frank. The troops have got their hands full with some drunks up the street. One of ‘em got shot.”
Inside the smoke-filled hotel room were eleven well-dressed men who by appearance looked to be men of means and power. Hendon began shaking hands and introducing Frank and himself.
In a few moments one of the men, Daniel McWorthan, who had earlier conducted the meeting in Hickory, asked the men to have a seat and said, “Men, I apologize for calling this meeting on Saturday night, but as you can tell from all that is going on outside, we certainly won’t be bothered. Also, we have reserved rooms for all of you for the night. If you care for a drink, we have a small bar set up for you over by the window. Hendon, we’re glad you and Mister Olliver could be with us.”
“Thank you Sir,” Hendon replied, settling himself in a chair.
“Now to get to the point, this here is Jonathan Curry from over at Birmingham,” McWorthan said, glancing over to the man sitting next to him. “Even though you’ve met him, you don’t know what he wants to share with us and at this time, I’m turning the meeting over to him. Mister Curry.”
Curry,
