“It’s in California.”
“California! Why, Bronwyn? What put that in your head?”
“It’s Mills College. They have a very good dance program. I’m a little old to start, but I want to try.”
“Your father . . .”
“It’s a women’s college. He should approve.”
“Oh, Bronwyn. California is so far away!”
“Just a train trip, Mother. You take the train directly from Seattle to San Francisco.”
“But how did you find this college?”
“I looked it up in the library. I’ve already applied.”
“But you could go here, couldn’t you? The Cornish School accepted you.”
“The Cornish School is only a few blocks from Benedict Hall. I would always be tempted to go there, to see the—to see Charlie. That’s not a good idea.” Bronwyn sighed, and turned back to the window. “I think it’s fair to ask you for this, you and Daddy. To ask you to help me. But if you say no, I’ll find my own way. I’ve waited too long as it is.”
Below her in the street, the traffic was thinning. A single horse, pulling an empty wagon that had probably held vegetables or perhaps barrels of fish, clopped wearily by. The sun had gone down, and only the very tops of the highest buildings now glimmered with its waning light. From this angle, Bronwyn couldn’t look up the hill toward Millionaire’s Row, but she didn’t need to. She would never, as long as she lived, forget Benedict Hall, or the surprising people who lived there.
Behind her, Iris matched her sigh. “You’re right, of course, dear.”
Bronwyn, startled, spun to face her mother. “I am?”
Iris rose from the bed, and went to the mirror to take up a comb. She began to smooth her finger-waved hair. “I don’t know what Chesley will say. We’ll just have to convince him.”
Bronwyn went to stand beside her mother, and their eyes, so much the same, met in the mirror. “He might shout, and stomp around,” Bronwyn said.
“Then I’ll probably cry,” Iris said. She shrugged, and smiled into the mirror. “But that won’t change anything.”
Bronwyn hugged her mother’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’ll go to Mills with you. See you’re settled. You won’t mind that, will you?”
Bronwyn dropped a kiss on her mother’s temple. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
The mood in Benedict Hall was more relieved than jubilant. Ramona and Edith took Charlie upstairs, and Margot could hear them in the guest bedroom, planning what changes were needed to turn it into a second nursery. Blake returned, having dropped off the Morgans at their hotel and then picked up Dick and Dickson from their office. He had to make a second trip for Frank, who was delayed by a meeting with Bill Boeing. By the time Blake and Frank pulled into the driveway, the whole family was gathered in the small parlor for a celebratory drink. Louisa was in her mother’s lap, and Charlie was standing at his grandmother’s knee, sucking on a forefinger, his small face intent as he watched and listened.
Dickson said in his gruff voice, “Is that boy ever going to talk?”
Edith said, “Dickson, shush. Give the child time.”
“How much?” he said, gesturing with his whisky glass. “Louisa has been talking a blue streak for months already.”
They all heard the front door open and close, and a moment later, Frank’s tall figure appeared in the doorway. Louisa squealed, “Fa!” and threw herself from her mother’s lap to barrel across the room and grip Frank’s legs. Laughing, he bent to pick her up.
“Uncle Fa, Louisa,” he said, nuzzling her curly hair. “Uncle Fa.”
“Fa!” she crowed again.
“See what I mean?” Dickson said.
Charlie watched as Frank crossed to the divan and settled onto it with Louisa on his lap. Frank smiled down at the boy’s solemn little face. “Good evening to you, Charlie,” he said.
Charlie stared up at him. After a moment, with something like ceremony, he removed his finger from his mouth. His forehead furrowed, and his lips worked, forming and re-forming, until he finally pronounced, “Fa?”
Margot was startled into laughter, quickly suppressed. Edith smiled with fond pride, and Dick and Ramona exchanged a glance.
Frank said, “That’s right, Charlie. I’m Uncle Fa.”
“Fa!” Louisa repeated, kicking her heels against Frank’s thigh.
Charlie glanced at his cousin, then back to Frank. He blinked once, then pronounced with great care, “Un-co Fa.”
“Good man,” Frank said with a nod. “Well done.”
Charles Dickson Benedict gravely returned Frank’s nod before he replaced his forefinger in his mouth.
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am indebted, as always, to my first reader, Catherine Whitehead, and to the other members of the Tahuya Writers Group: Brian Bek, Jeralee Chapman, Niven Marquis, and Dave Newton. Heartfelt thanks go to my editor, Audrey LaFehr, for helping me shape and direct the Benedict Hall novels. Thanks also to Martin Biro, her assistant and an editor in his own right, for his quick responses to my questions and worries (authors always have worries!). Peter Rubie at FinePrint Literary Agency has been faithful and helpful.
I wish I could also express my gratitude to a physician and a nurse, two people I never had the opportunity to meet, but whose personal libraries provided me with resources perfectly suited to my needs. The book
Manual of Emergencies,
published in 1918 by J. Snowman, MD, bears the beautiful copperplate signature of one A. Gerend, a physician.
Materia Medica for Nurses,
by A. S. Blumgarten, MD, published in 1924, was once the property of Kathleen M. Hayes, a nurse who, according to the handwritten inscription in the book, practiced in a hospital in Berwick, Mississippi. I’m so grateful these volumes came into my hands, and I will always treat them with the reverence they deserve.
Medical help and advice came from Dean Crosgrove, PAC, and Nancy Crosgrove, RN, ND. Help with historical details was provided by Professor James Gregory, of the University of Washington History Department, and by James Sackey, of the Northwest Railway Museum in Snoqualmie, Washington. I’m especially indebted to work done by the Seattle Civil Rights and Labor History Project for information on restrictive neighborhood covenants.
Perhaps most importantly, my thanks go to my readers. I have loved writing about the inhabitants of Benedict Hall and the people whose lives they touch. Thank you for sharing this journey with me. Without readers, writers would be talking to themselves. We might go on doing it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
THE BENEDICT BASTARD
Cate Campbell
About This Guide
The suggested questions are included
to enhance your group’s reading of
Cate Campbell’s
The Benedict Bastard.
Discussion Questions
1.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, many upper-class girls were deliberately brought up in ignorance of sexual intercourse and its consequences. In the industrialized societies of the twenty-first century, with the proliferation of television, movies, and books on every topic, is this even possible? Is there such a thing as too much information?
2.
Child labor laws were passed in the United States Congress in the first two decades of the twentieth century, but were struck down by the Supreme Court because they denied children the “freedom” to work. A quatrain by Sarah N. Cleghorn in 1916 illustrated the problem and incited an angry public response:
The golf links lie so near the mill
That almost every day
The laboring children can look out
And see the men at play.
Is there still a problem with child labor? At what age is it acceptable for children to work, and for how many hours in a day?
3.
The concept of what is or isn’t obscene varies for different eras and different cultures. The Comstock laws in the early twentieth century made it illegal to publicly discuss contraception, ruling such topics obscene. Margot Benedict, in her medical practice, struggles against the Church and the established medical community in order to supply women with information. Is there still reluctance, in the present day, to open discussions about preventing pregnancy?
4.
The Ku Klux Klan was active in the Pacific Northwest in the 1920s, and influenced the establishment of restrictive neighborhood covenants. These covenants persisted for decades, only becoming illegal after the civil rights movement and the ensuing reforms. What effects did such restrictions have on cities like Seattle in creating racially segregated neighborhoods? Have cities recovered from those effects a century later, or do echoes of them remain?
5.
The Benedicts use their money and influence to protect their family and dependents. Preston is confined in a sanitarium rather than being sent to prison, and Sarah Church’s family is allowed to stay in their home when less well-connected people are not. Do you think the Benedicts abuse their power in some instances? Do they consider themselves above the law?
6.
The word
bastard
has different meanings, in the English language and in the story of this novel. To which of them do you think the title of
The Benedict Bastard
refers?
7.
In the book
Send Us a Lady Physician,
Regina Morantz-Sanchez writes, “More than one historian has portrayed the years between 1900 and 1965 as dark ones for the progress of women in medicine. . . .” Margot Benedict makes reference to the problem, and on her brief visit to Montana, learns that herbalists often stand in for physicians, particularly in treating women. Why do you think the progress women in medicine were making in the late nineteenth century halted, and even reversed? Is there still a male bias in medical practice?
8.
Vaccinations were quite common by 1923, though many people didn’t trust them. In what ways does that distrust mirror the controversy surrounding vaccines in the early twenty-first century?
9.
From the mid-nineteenth century until the last one crossed the country in 1928, the Orphan Trains are estimated to have carried more than a quarter of a million homeless or abandoned children, including infants, from New York to rural communities in the Midwest and West of the United States. The results were, as you might expect, mixed. Was such a disposition of children the best idea for its time?
10.
In what ways do you think the position of children in society has changed since the 1920s? Are all of the changes positive?
11.
Margot Benedict finds value in the herbal treatments Jenny Parrish administers, and is interested in their application to her own medical practice. In the present day, this is sometimes called “integrated medicine,” a relatively new term. What fresh ideas that Margot is willing to consider—ideas outside traditional medical practice—have been put into regular use today? Do herbalists still have a place in health care in the twenty-first century?
Photo by Shelly Rae Clift
Cate Campbell is a writer living in the Pacific Northwest. She has worked in more jobs than she can count—as a teacher, an office nurse, a waitress, a nanny, a secretary, a saleswoman, and a singer. The great mansions of Seattle, many built around the turn of the twentieth century, along with her lifelong fascination with medicine, history, Seattle, and the stunning cultural and social changes that marked the decade of the 1920s are her inspirations for the Benedict Hall series. The career of her father, a dedicated physician and a war veteran, served as a model for both Margot Benedict and Frank Parrish. Visit her on the Web at catecampbell. net.
B
ENEDICT
H
ALL
In this richly layered debut novel, Cate Campbell introduces the wealthy Benedict family and takes us behind the grand doors of their mansion, Benedict Hall. There, family and servants alike must face the challenges wrought by World War I—and the dawn of a new age brimming with scandal, intrigue, and social change.
Seattle in 1920 is a city in flux. Horse-drawn carriages share the cobblestone streets with newfangled motorcars. Modern girls bob their hair and show their ankles, cafés defy Prohibition by serving dainty teacups of whisky to returning vets—and the wartime boom is giving way to a depression. Even within the Benedicts’ majestic Queen Anne–style home, life is changing—above and below stairs.
Margot, the Benedicts’ free-spirited daughter, struggles to succeed as a physician despite gender bias—and personal turmoil. The household staff, especially longtime butler Abraham Blake, has always tried to protect Margot from her brother Preston’s cruel streak. Yet war has altered Preston, too—not for the better. And when a chance encounter brings a fellow army officer into the Benedict fold, Preston’s ruthlessness is triggered to new heights.
An engineer at the fledgling Boeing Company, Frank Parrish has been wounded body and soul, and in Margot, he senses a kindred spirit. But their burgeoning friendship and Preston’s growing wickedness will have explosive repercussions for everyone at Benedict Hall—rich and poor, black and white—as Margot dares to follow her own path, no matter the consequences.
H
ALL
OF
S
ECRETS
In Cate Campbell’s sumptuously detailed, page-turning series set in 1920s Seattle, the once-secure lifestyle of the wealthy Benedict family—and their household staff—must contend with the radical, roaring Jazz Age....
For generations, the Benedicts have been one of Seattle’s most distinguished families, residing in the splendid Queen Anne–style mansion known as Benedict Hall amid a host of loyal servants. But the dawn of the 1920s and the aftermath of the Great War have brought dramatic social conflict. Never has this been more apparent than when daughter Margot’s thoroughly modern young cousin, Allison, comes to stay.
But Margot is also shocking many of Seattle’s genteel citizens, and her engineer beau, by advocating birth control in her medical practice. For amid a tangle of blackmail, manipulation, and old enmities, the Benedicts stand to lose more than money—they may forfeit the very position and reputation that is their only tether to a rapidly changing world.