On Agate Hill (29 page)

Sincerely Yours,
Agnes

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November 9, 1876

This entire Academy has revolved around Molly Petree for days, absolutely Nothing can be accomplished. All one hears is “Molly this” & “Molly that” as one walks down the halls. In truth I did not know the extent of this obsession until it had already gotten truly out of hand, when I was finally forced to rise from my own Bed of Pain by the goodness of my heart, & Attend to her.

I made my way to Agnes’s little house where I found an astonishing scene. There lay Molly upon the bed like a carving upon a catafalque, surrounded by her worshippers who come tiptoeing in & out endlessly weeping and bearing little gifts: a poem, a bracelet, a pretty picture, a bit of holly from the woods, a piece of old lace, an owl feather. I have never seen anything like it. And Agnes was clearly in charge of it all, of course, finally in her true element at last, grim yet rosy-cheeked, on fire with Helpfulness & Sacrifice. But whoever thought that my own Sister would be sleeping on a pallet on the floor while a student of low degree lay in her bed? Education is all but suspended as everyone must come, students & faculty alike, to worship at this unlikely Shrine. The girls in particular have taken a terrible Fancy to it.

I asked Dr. Snow right out, I said, “What is the good of forbidding them to read terrible penny dreadful Novels when one has such a Novel going on
under one’s very roof? I told you this girl would be Trouble,” I said as I stood there observing her so pale and still. “It would be just like her to die on us.”

In reply he grabbed my elbow sharply. “Woman, if you value this Academy & your position in this world,” he hissed at me, “you had better exert all your skills & cure her.”

Which I did, beginning with my famous cure for Ague which was quite difficult to administer, for she dribbled it out the corner of her slack mouth upon the bolster, to my Frustration.

“Here, Mrs. Snow,” said that sweet Emma Page, “let me hold her mouth like this, like so, & then you may try again . . . ,” forming up Molly’s thick red lips into a little cup, & then our Mission was accomplished, morning & night for two days, yet still she sleeps on.

Dr. Snow had already sent for the famous Dr. Grossbeck from Danville, our own Drs. Barney & Greene being not good enough for Molly Petree, though we can ill afford the expense. “But I shall not communicate with Simon Black yet,” he said to me, frowning. “For therein disaster lies. Woman, do your work.”

Thus I have also tried Catnip Tea & Tansy, forcing her to take a bit of broth and water as well. Nothing. No result. The girls have formed a Prayer Chain, so there is someone praying for Molly Petree constantly, round the clock, as if God has time for this.

Mariah Rutherford Snow
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia

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November 11, 1876

The famous Dr. Grossbeck arrived by coach this morning. I must say he did not make a favorable initial Impression upon me, nor indeed any Impression
upon me, being quite thin, small, & poorly dressed, with stains upon his shirt front & very rheumy, weak appearing Eyes. He looked like he would blow away in a good stiff Wind. He performed his Examination with myself, Agnes, Dr. Snow, & Frances Tuttle present. I had sent all the girls to their own rooms though they wept annoyingly.

Dr. Grossbeck lifted her eyelids, first one then the other, & peered into her sightless blue eyes with a glass like a little telescope, muttering under his breath all the while. Then asking for Agnes’s aid, he pulled Molly around on the bed so that her white knobby knees hung over the edge, & to our surprise, rapped them both smartly with a little hammer which he produced from his bag. “Oh!” cried poor silly Agnes as Molly’s thin white legs flew up into the air. Dr. Snow frowned mightily, then helped the doctor place her aright again. Dr. Grossbeck said something inaudible.

And though Molly Petree has tried me sorely, I must say that I felt a wave of shock & pity when he motioned for Agnes to take down her shift, & placed his ear with its little horn against her sunken chest where all her ribs and clavicle stood out sharply. Agnes burst into tears.

“This girl has suffered Shock,” the little doctor almost whispered, so that we all had to bunch up & strain to hear him, “which has produced a sort of Nervous Catatonia, a reaction which though frightening to us, may be actually beneficial to her, as it allows a deep rest which will either repair and refresh her—“

“Oh, thank goodness,” murmured Agnes.

“Or kill her,” Dr. Grossbeck continued.

Dr. Snow swore under his breath.

“But I see some positive signs. Look at the eyelids.”

We all bent forward to do so, & sure enough, there was a fluttery movement beneath the shadowy lids. “You may continue the excellent care you have given her thus far—” here he nodded at Agnes, ignoring me altogether— “and let the Body do its Work. She has a young healthy body; she should come round directly.”

For this he charged us eight dollars, the equivalent of a hog! While here am I, wearing last year’s Blouse, walking around in last year’s Shoes.

“I shall return on Wednesday,” he said, which is two days time.

It was all I could do to contain my anger at that moment, but nevertheless it slipped out later this evening when I was sitting with Molly myself, having cleared the room & sent even Agnes over to Supper. God alone knows where Dr. Snow had disappeared to. It was only Molly & myself in that little chamber with its green ivy wallpaper & low eaves, the wintry gray afternoon fading beyond the little diamond-shaped panes of the window. Her breath came & went, her chest rose & fell shallowly in the oil lamp’s flickering light. Her eyelids moved again & she murmured something.

My heart leapt up, in the words of the poet. Immediately I crossed over to her. “What?” I asked sharply, so that she could hear me. “Molly, what is it?”

But she refused to answer, Sullen Girl.

Before I knew it, I had slapped her. The sound cracked out in the room.

No One could have been more surprised than I.

“Oh!” It was Agnes, prematurely returned from Supper, bearing a dish of Corn Pudding which she spilled all over the floor. “Mariah, how could you?” she wailed, rushing to Molly’s bedside where she knelt to kiss her cheek & smooth her brow.

But Lo! At that instant Molly opened her eyes, thus vindicating me entirely, as if anyone cared.

And as of today she remains well though somewhat Listless & Lackluster, thus making sure that she will remain the Center of Attention after all, as always, Forever & Ever, Amen.

Mariah Rutherford Snow
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia

•  •  •

T
HE
R
USKIN
H
OSPITAL
10 Mimosa Street
Montgomery, Alabama

November 17, 1876

Dear Molly,

This will be short for I am sick now. First I am so sorry that Spencer died and that you have been sick too but you do not sound like yourself and as for what you write about giving up and going to join your ghost family, Molly, I say this. Do you not remember how we wandered the woods at Agate Hill, how the river ran so cold on our feet and the sun gave us freckles out in the fields where we picked all those berries? Do you not remember how the clouds came in from the west and the thunder rolled and the lightning came down like a fork and hit the sycamore tree on the hill and we fell down and rolled over and over in the wet grass laughing? Or how we ran through the woods to Mama Marie and Aunt Mitty’s and drank from the spring and how the fairies came? I think about Agate Hill every day. So live for me, Molly. Get up from there and live for me. You are my best friend joined in blood and you have to do what I say.

Mary White Worthington

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December 23, 1876

So now thanks entirely to myself Molly Petree is recovered with a vengeance, she has resumed all school activities & is again the World’s Darling. She does not seem to realize her pitiable situation in the least—& why should she—as for instance she is the guest of Eliza Valiant this Christmas time riding off in
a coach with a Servant and two of Eliza’s brothers down from their Virginia schools & no chaperone. I argued but had to let them go as per the Valiants’ instructions. They disappeared through the gate with laughter floating back on the chilly air & bells jingling, while here we have positively no money to buy candy or toys for our own boys, according to Dr. Snow. Of course Dr. Snow is like an errant wind blowing first hot then cold, I never know what to think or expect from him, nor do the boys, who have gone skating on the pond just now, at least there is that, & hunting deer, & shooting down mistletoe. Perhaps they will shoot their father by mistake. Oh I am vile, vile, I do not deserve them, any of them, I shall put gravel in my boots as a constant reminder of my Blessings this Christmas O Lord, my Strength & my Redeemer, Amen.

Mariah Rutherford Snow
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia

Molly Petree
Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia

January 8, 1877

Oh Mary White,

Why don’t you write me back? I will hold on to this letter until I hear from you. When I think of you, I feel like a flame is running through my body like a fire across a field and I wonder if this is what it is like to be purified by suffering? And do you feel this way all the time, Mary White? But now I have been to the Valiants’ house in Charleston with Eliza for Christmas, a very long journey, I will tell you all about it.