Antebellum BK 1 (23 page)

“
Can we do that? Just buy rifles on the open market and do the same thing that Beecher does?”

“
Why not? Any fool can stencil a crate with the word ‘Bibles’ on it. What’s so difficult about that?”

June 1, 1852

West Point, New York

W
ith a boisterous and prolonged cheer, the Class of ’52 threw their hats into the air. Quincy Van Buskirk caught a hat that wasn’t his, read the name, found the owner and returned it. As the graduates began to thin, his cousins Paul and Johnny hurried toward him. Paul was wearing his Plebe uniform and Johnny, in civilian clothes, had Quincy’s hat in his hand. “Congratulations, Pug.” Johnny gave Quincy the hat and shook his hand.

“
Thanks.” Quincy set the hat squarely on his head. “I didn’t see any of the family. Did you?”

Paul shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“
Your mother must be very busy,” Johnny said.

Paul nodded agreement. “I’m sure she wanted to come, but with everything that’s happening, she must have been too busy.”

“
I sort of thought Aunt Nancy might come,” Quincy said.

“
Maybe she didn’t know,” Paul suggested.

“
I sent her an invitation,” Quincy said.

“
Did you look at the RSVP list?” Paul asked.

Quincy nodded. “They weren’t on it, but I thought that maybe...” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He led the boys through the celebrating families toward the River.

“
Did you get your orders yet?” Johnny asked.

“
Not officially, but the Supe told me that I’d be ordered to one of the forts at Charleston when he gave me this.” He looked down proudly at the medal on his chest. “Did you know that this is an official Department of War decoration? I can wear it on my uniform forever.”

“
It’s a unique honor,” Paul agreed. “We’re very proud of you.”

“
Thank you,” Quincy said. “I’m glad to have received it from Superintendent Brewerton. You’ll have a new Supe next year. Robert E. Lee, class of twenty-nine. Never received a demerit. He’s bound to be a tougher taskmaster than Superintendent Brewerton.”

“
Too bad you screwed up your plebe year so badly,” Johnny said. “Otherwise you’d have been first in your class.”

Paul punched Johnny on the shoulder. “But then he wouldn’t have gotten the Supe’s special award of merit.”

Johnny moved out of punching range. “Third in your class isn’t bad, Pug. I just meant…”

“
I know what you meant and you’re right, Johnny,” Quincy said. “I wish I could do it over, but I can’t. Just don’t make the same mistake I did. Your plebe year sets up the rest of your time here.”

“
Johnny may not accept his appointment,” Paul said.

Quincy looked at Johnny in surprise. “Is that true?”

“
When will you be leaving for South Carolina?” Johnny asked.

Quincy realized that Johnny was derailing him, but decided to allow it. “Sometime after the commissioning ceremony tomorrow.”

“
Tomorrow?” Johnny repeated. “That soon?”

Quincy nodded. “Are you two planning to spend the summer here?”

“
Not here in West Point,” Paul said. “But here in the East. At Van Buskirk Point or Liberty Hall, most likely.”

“
I meant that you’re still not going home to Texas,” Quincy clarified.

“
The trip takes so long that we just get a few days at home and have to start back,” Johnny said.

“
Back?” Paul grinned. “So you
are
going to accept the appointment?”

“
I was going to tell you later.” Johnny looked embarrassed. “I enrolled yesterday and already have my room assignment.”

Quincy slapped him on the back. “That’s good news. I was afraid I’d have to beat the hell out of you.”

“
Oh, that reminds me,” Johnny said. “Wait until I tell you what happened at Van Buskirk Point.”

“
Later,” Paul said.

Johnny nodded disappointedly.

“
Was anyone there at the Home Place in New Jersey?” Quincy asked casually.

“
Your mother’s in Washington,” Paul offered, answering Quincy’s unspoken question. “I think.”

“
Or she may be in the Nebraska territory,” Johnny suggested. “Uncle Robert mentioned her coming there in a recent letter.”

“
Sometimes she stays with Aunt Nancy in New York,” Paul added. “She never writes to me. But Aunt Nancy does – sometimes.”

“
I haven’t heard from either of them recently,” Quincy replied. “You might pass the word that I’m in South Carolina, if anyone asks.”

“
How will you get there?” Johnny asked. “By train?”

Quincy shook his head. “Steamboat from here to New York, then a clipper to Charleston. It should be quite an adventure.”

“
I wish we were going with you,” Johnny said.

Quincy put his arm around the smaller boy. “Me too. But you’ll be surprised at how fast the next four years pass.”

Johnny waved to another boy in civilian clothes. “Hello, Fitz,” he shouted. “Come here and meet my famous cousin.” He looked from Quincy to Paul. “He’s going to be my roommate. Don’t give him any trouble. His uncle is the new Superintendent.”

“
Another Lee,” Quincy said with a grin. “They’ll soon be catching up to us.”

“
Fitzhugh Lee,” Johnny said proudly as the other boy joined them, “Please allow me to present Second Lieutenant Pug Van Buskirk and Cadet Major Paul Van Buskirk. My cousin and my brother, of both of whom I’m very proud.”

“
And I’m proud to make their acquaintances,” Lee said with an engaging smile. “Congratulations, sir.” He shook Quincy’s hand. “An honor to meet you, Major.” He shook Paul’s hand.

June 7
, 1852

Concord, Massachusetts

H
illside House, home of Amos Bronson Alcott and his family, was a big, lopsided frame structure built over a stone foundation around a central chimney. Peeling paint made it look dilapidated in spite of the gay flowerboxes beneath the ground floor windows. When Anna knocked, the door was opened almost immediately by a balding man with long white forelocks. “Good afternoon,” Anna said with a broad smile. “I am Anna Lagrange. This is my friend Nancy Vreeland. We have an appointment with Louisa Alcott.”

“
Louisa is my daughter,” the man said. “And you are not welcome here Mrs. Van-Buskirk-Lagrange. But Miss Vreeland may come in if she wishes.”

Anna was stunned and took a moment to gather herself. “Very well, sir. May I ask the basis for your animosity?”

“
With pleasure,” he replied, drawing his shoulders back and raising his chin haughtily. “You once described me in your newspaper as either insane or half-witted and an ignorant and presuming charlatan.”

It took Anna a moment, then she shook her head. “No, sir. That was Joseph T. Buckingham in the
Boston Courier
who said that.”

“
You quoted him in your paper and your paper is much more widely read.” He took a breath.

“
The paper may have quoted him, but I write straight news, not literary criticism.”

“
If that was not enough,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “your family’s involvement in the shameful rape of Mexico would be enough to bar you from my door. I was happy to see that your father died from his participation, but disappointed that his Excellency President Santa Anna did not execute your mother as the spy that she was.

Anna stammered a moment, then turned to Nancy. “I’ll wait for you in the carriage.” She walked back down the path to the road, doing her best to appear calm.

~

It was after dark when Nancy, accompanied by a young woman of about nineteen or twenty, who was carrying a lantern, walked from the house to the carriage. “I don’t suppose I can say anything by way of apology,” the young woman said as Anna opened the carriage door.

“
I presume that you are Louisa Alcott?” Anna said.

“
No. I’m Anna Alcott. My father wouldn’t let my sister come out.”

“
Then I thank you for your thoughts and wish you good evening.” Anna looked at Nancy. “I’m anxious to go.”

“
Yes, of course.” Nancy smiled at Anna Alcott, then climbed into the carriage.

Anna reached across her and slammed the carriage door. “Drive on, please,” she called loudly.

Nancy sat back in the seat and closed her eyes. “Don’t punish me for that man’s boorish behavior.”

“
I won’t. How was it?”

“
Gruesome, but I decided that you’d want me to stay, so I did.”

“
Tell me about it. Who were all those people that kept coming and going?”

Nancy shrugged. “I only knew a few and the names I caught meant nothing. Before dinner, I was shown the girls’ rooms, then Mr. Alcott lectured me on how to raise children until dinner was served. They’re vegetarians and they make a huge production of the meal with specified topics of conversation. Tonight it was Plato. After dinner, the family staged a theatrical play. It wasn’t bad, actually.”

“
What about the Underground Railroad?”

“
The Alcotts provide a safe house for runaways, but they have no idea where the slaves come from, who brings the slaves to them, who takes them away or where they’re taken.”

“
In other words we wasted our time coming here.”

“
Yes. I’m sorry Mr. Alcott was such a bastard.”

“
Joseph Buckingham was right. He
is
either insane or half-witted. Before today I thought he was just a terrible writer.”

“
There was a black man at dinner who suggested that the best way we can help is to become stockholders in the Underground Railroad.”

“
Meaning: We’ll take your money but please stay away.”

“
I think that sums it up pretty accurately.”

“
What did you say?”

“
Nothing. I just wrote him a bank draft.”

“
I still want to be more active.”

“
Then we’ll keep looking for a connection until we find one.”

Anna was quiet for some time. “Or we could just forget the whole thing. I’ve been pushing you into this – if you want to forget it… Well, you know what I mean.”

Nancy took Anna’s hand and squeezed it gently. “This is the turning point in world history when slavery will be abolished. We should take part in it, if we can.”

June 14, 1852

Oswego, New York

A
braham Van Buskirk was seated across the desk from a man who had refused to offer his name. The man was dressed in an expensive suit and his skin was so black that it seemed to glow, making Abe feel pale by comparison. “After speaking to some railroaders in Concord, Massachusetts,” the man was saying, “Mrs. Lagrange and Miss Vreeland decided to become Stockholders.”

“
Stockholders - I don’t understand,” Abe said.

“
We use railroad metaphors. A
Stockholder
is a financial contributor, escaping slaves are
Passengers
who’ve obtained a
Railroad Ticket
, hiding places are
Stations
, and guides are
Conductors
. People like me are
Stationmasters
.”

“
Why did Mrs. Lagrange and Miss Vreeland change their minds about actively participating?”

“
We thought that they could best serve the Railroad as Stockholders.”

“
You thought?”

“
There must be executives to make decisions in any organization, Mr. Van Buskirk.” He smiled. “Mrs. Lagrange said that you wanted to help.”