Anything But Civil (9 page)

“And who was foolhardy, young man, aiming a cannon in the direction of the peaceful folk on Park Avenue?” Mrs. Kaplan said.

Several snickers followed Mrs. Kaplan’s declaration. I wasn’t shocked by her outspokenness; in my experience elderly ladies often spoke their minds, and this one in particular seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. But I was surprised how quickly Captain Starrett’s politics had infiltrated a Christmas dinner party. I had envisioned a lively but joyous occasion. Politics had always seemed malapropos for mixed company, especially at this time of the year. I should’ve known better when Captain Starrett was involved.

“And before you start spouting words like
copperhead
and
traitor—,
” the old woman said.

“He
is
a copperhead and a traitor,” Henry said. “And he deserved more than he got. Should’ve burned the house down.”

“What about Mrs. Jamison?” Sir Arthur said. Henry glared at him.

“Yes, what about Mary?” Mrs. Kaplan said. “Did she deserve to suffer from the ruckus you brutes made? Would you burn the house down with her in it?”

“Now, now, Ettie,” General Starrett said, patting the old woman’s hand. “No one’s burning anyone’s house down.” She bobbed her head once and folded her arms across her sagging bosom, allowing herself to be mollified.

“Father,” Adella said quickly, trying to avoid any further discord, “may I introduce our guests, Mrs. Triggs and Mrs. Baines?” Still glaring at Sir Arthur, Henry Starrett disregarded the nods the women gave.

“What a pleasure to meet you,” Rachel Baines said, almost giggling. The admiring tone in her voice caused the object of her pleasure to regard her for the first time. He hesitated for a moment, then smiled and deliberately took the lady’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful lady,” he said. Rachel Baines blushed with pleasure while her husband stood brooding by the fireplace, his eye twitching.

Sir Arthur, during this interlude, had clenched his teeth, trying to maintain his dignity. He could restrain his tongue no longer. “You owe me and Miss Davish an apology, sir.”

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you anything,” Captain Starrett said, smiling down at Mrs. Baines.

“I’ll have you know, Captain, that the girl you described as foolhardy is the antithesis of my Miss Davish. And despite your claim, you have insulted me, sir.”

“Take it as you like. But you’re in my house and I’ll say what I’m so inclined to say,” Captain Starrett said, retaining Rachel Baines’s hand but spitting the words at Sir Arthur. “Sir!”

“So you are disinclined to answer this lady’s question?” Sir Arthur said, indicating Mrs. Kaplan, who gripped her cane and stuck out her chin as if expecting an answer.

“What question? Whether I thought Jamison’s mother deserved to have her peace disrupted or whether I’d burn down the house with the traitors inside?”

Gasps followed, then silence. Henry’s callousness was stunning.

“Father!” Adella chided.

The dinner party was on the brink of disaster, before we had even sat down at the table, when, by sheer providence, Ambrose came in.

“Dinner is served,” he announced.

“Let’s eat then!” Captain Starrett said with mock bravado, clapping and rubbing his hands together.

Adella quickly took her father’s arm and had him escort her in. It was a breach in protocol but an obvious attempt to speak to her father and salvage her party. Sir Arthur, who should’ve gone in on our hostess’s arm, gallantly offered his arm to the elderly Mrs. Kaplan as Frederick escorted a delighted Rachel Baines. Mrs. Holbrook with General Starrett, Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook and Mrs. Powers, and Priscilla Triggs with John Baines followed. Lieutenant Triggs offered me his arm. I took it reluctantly, the sting of his jest still smarting.

“Don’t listen to that man, Miss Davish,” he said with unexpected vehemence. “We all know how invaluable you are to Sir Arthur.”

“Thank you,” I said, rattled by the entire exchange. How had I become the catalyst of such discord? “Maybe Mrs. Baines was right, though. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

T
he dining room was festive and welcoming. The roaring fire accentuated the gold rosettes stenciled on the crimson walls, and the frosted windows were decorated with wreaths of holly. The table set under the chandelier’s glow sparkled off the small bands of gold encircling the plates, the painting of a cardinal perched on a sprig of holly painted on the flat rims of the plates and dishes, the etched glasses, and of course the plethora of silverware. Each place setting had a row of spoons for the fruit, soup, dessert, and coffee, a dinner knife and a salad knife, and forks, to be used in order, for oysters, fish, roast, salad, game, and dessert.

I’m glad I paid attention in “dinner table etiquette” class,
I thought.

An elaborate display of white gardenias and Christmas tulips in a three-tiered, two-foot vase made of spun sugar, surrounded at the base by red amaryllis flowers, was the centerpiece. I’d seen Mrs. Brendel’s inventory and wondered where Mrs. Reynard had obtained the tulips. They were fresh, beautiful, and would have been extremely difficult to find in any shop.

As we entered, Adella was setting down a place card, as if she had changed her seating arrangements. When her father helped Adella into her chair and then sat down next to her, I knew my hunch had been right. But who did she displace at her side? Lieutenant Triggs escorted me to the table and we discovered that we were sitting beside each other. I was especially grateful that Captain Starrett was at the far end of the table and that Rachel Baines sat on Lieutenant Triggs’s right. She could not speak to me without impolitely leaning over the table or speaking behind the lieutenant’s back. When General Starrett sat down to my left, I knew it was his place that had been swapped with that of his son. I was infinitely grateful to our hostess for sparing me the embarrassment of sitting next to the man who had called my judgment into question.

Despite the strain of earlier, everyone was quickly engaged in polite banter, and the first course was served.

“Your favorite, Father,” Adella cooed when the bluepoint oysters appeared.

“Issac loves them too, don’t you, dear,” Mrs. Holbrook said to her husband, who was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Henry Starrett took several from the platter, then directed Ambrose to go against protocol and serve Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook next.

“Help yourself, Holbrook. Enjoy!” Henry Starrett said as he popped the first oyster in his mouth. Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook was more than happy to oblige.

Lieutenant Triggs was an attentive dining companion, cajoling me into trying the slimy creatures when they made their way to our plates, but was often distracted by Mrs. Baines, who, not satisfied with monopolizing our host, would ask the lieutenant’s opinion on this or that. At these times, I would either engage the general, if he wasn’t engaged with Mrs. Holbrook, or, most often, listen to the conversation of the others. The men were reminiscing about the war.

It was one of these times when I heard Captain Starrett say, “. . . the sausage had fur growing on it, but we were so desperate for meat, Private Blair shaved it off, and we ate it anyway!” He laughed and pounded his fist on the table.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner talk, Father,” Adella said.

“That reminds me of an amusing story,” Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook said. “One time we got a ration wagon of salt horse and rice. Having eaten nothing but hardtack and weevils for two days, we were excited until we slit open the bags. The beef has gone rancid and the worms had eaten half of the meat before we could!”

“Issac!” his wife remonstrated. “We’re eating dinner!” The veterans all laughed.

“That’s the point, dear,” Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook said. “Henry’s furry sausage would’ve been wonderful. That night we dined on rice, hardtack, and worms.” Henry Starrett burst with laughter, spittle forming on his lips. He wrapped his arms around his middle as his whole body convulsed.

“Good one, Holbrook. Good one,” Henry said as he brought himself under control.

“But not very appetizing, I’m afraid,” Rachel Baines said, pushing her plate away.

“Oh, Father,” Adella said, desperate to change the dinner topic of conversation. “Tell us the Farris’ Camp story.” She turned to Mrs. Powers to her right. “Father told such wonderful stories when I was a little girl.”

“My heart was in my throat, but I kept on,” Captain Starrett said, launching into a tale of terrifying anticipation at approaching an enemy camp. It quickly became apparent to Sir Arthur and me, both of whom had read Grant’s autobiography, that the tale Captain Starrett told was an embellishment of one of Grant’s own recollections. Did any of the others know Henry Starrett was misrepresenting himself? Would they think less of him if they did?

“We approached the hilltop and looked down. The enemy’s camp was visible, but Farris and his men were gone. They’d been more afraid of me than I of them!” Captain Starrett said. “From that moment on, I never felt alarm at facing an enemy again.”

I knew without looking at him, Sir Arthur was livid. What Henry Starrett had done was kin to blasphemy to Sir Arthur. But he held his tongue and when Henry finished, Sir Arthur refrained from joining in the applause that followed. Mrs. Baines, who seemed slightly out of sorts, also kept her hands on her lap.

“Did you know that I served in the war too,
Captain
Starrett?” Rachel Baines said, stressing Henry Starrett’s rank. All eyes shifted to her and she beamed.

“Astonishing, Mrs. Baines,” Frederick Reynard said. “How extraordinary!”

“Yes, I was a nurse.” She batted her eyelashes and looked away, feigning false modesty. “I was not yet twenty when I served on my first hospital ship.” The questions for Mrs. Baines spilled across the table to the delight of the woman.

“Where did you serve?”

“Did you see any of the fighting?”

“Were you ever in danger?”

“Did you ever faint from seeing so much blood?”

“I thought Dorothea Dix only allowed old and plain nurses? How did such a beautiful, young lady get by Miss Dix?” Rachel Baines especially relished this last one.

“My father piloted a hospital ship for a while, didn’t you, Father?” Adella said. The comment made Rachel Baines frown. She looked at Henry Starrett, who was staring intensely at her.

“Mostly served as a transport out of St. Louis, but yes, I did pilot a hospital ship, for a short while,” he said. “Maybe our paths even crossed once, Mrs. Baines. I do remember a pretty little nurse in Cairo.” He smiled and winked at Mrs. Baines, whose face reddened, but a slight smile tugged at her lips.

“Oh, you’d remember, Captain Starrett,” John Baines said. “My wife is unforgettable, especially on a battlefield!” He smiled broadly at her and raised his glass slightly in a personal toast. Her eyes sparkled as she nodded to her husband’s compliment. She quickly engaged Frederick in conversation.

A few minutes elapsed and I was chatting with General Starrett about Sir Arthur’s book when I heard Mrs. Kaplan say, “Mr. Reynard, you never did tell me the story of that young girl.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her indicate me with a nod. I held my breath until Captain Starrett was distracted and regaling his daughter and Priscilla Triggs with a story about one of his steamboat adventures.

“Miss Davish saved our daughter, Gertrude,” Frederick Reynard said, “who had fallen through the ice on the river.”

“How did a slip of a girl like that,” Mrs. Kaplan said, pointing to me with a shaking hand, “save your daughter?”

“She crawled across the ice and used her cloak to pull Gertie to safety.”

“Remarkable,” the old woman said.

“Captain Starrett does have a point, though,” Mrs. Baines interjected. “It was foolish of her not to wait for the men.”

“Actually, the men wouldn’t have been able to do it,” Sir Arthur said, stabbing his fillet of beef with a fork. “Too heavy.”

“So it was the very fact that she’s made like a twig made her your daughter’s perfect rescuer!” Mrs. Holbrook declared.

“Yes,” Frederick said, “you could say that.”

I looked down at myself
. I’m not that thin,
I thought.

“Then she should’ve waited and let Mrs. Reynard do it,” Mrs. Baines said before she realized how inane she sounded.

“Certainly not,” Frederick said. “I wouldn’t have my wife endangering herself like that.”

“But it’s okay that Sir Arthur’s secretary did?” Mrs. Kaplan said. Sir Arthur glared at Frederick Reynard, anticipating his answer.

“Well, um.” I was too far down the table to deflect the conversation away from me but was grateful for once that Mrs. Baines was determined to do so.

“It’s not important who saved Mr. Reynard’s sweet little girl, is it? But the fact that she’s safe now. I’m sure any one of us would’ve done all we could to see her well.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Frederick said, relieved to see Sir Arthur’s ire mollified by Mrs. Baines’s comment. “Though we’ll all feel better when—”

Crash!
The sound of a tray dropping stopped all conversation. Ambrose, who had been serving at the table, appeared with a salver in his hand.

“Is everything all right, Ambrose?” Frederick asked.

“Yes, sir, nothing for you to worry about, sir. But a gentleman is here to see Captain Starrett.”

“Well, tell him I’m having dinner with guests, man,” the captain said, his face flush.

“Yes, sir, but he refuses to leave, at least until I deliver his card, sir.”

“Give it to me then.” Ambrose offered him the salver, and Henry snatched up the card. The captain’s face blanched.

“Is everything all right, Father?” Adella said, placing a hand on his arm. “Do you need to see this man?”

Henry Starrett stood up and tossed his napkin on his chair. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He staggered slightly. When he opened the door, I could see the reflection of Mott in a mirror that hung in the hall. He smiled when he saw Captain Starrett. Then the door closed behind them.

“That boy never did abide proper manners. Does everything his own way,” General Starrett said, shaking his head but chuckling. “But never a dull moment, I grant you.” He seemed to be the only one who found the interruption amusing.

“Papa, our guests,” Adella said under her breath. “I’m sure Father will be back momentarily. Ambrose, will you please bring in the next course?”