1863 Saratoga Summer Page 9

  “How could they be in jail?” Sinead’s eyes narrowed. “They just got here to America. They don’t know anything or anybody. What have you done, da?” a horrified Sinead asked, her words bubbling together in what seemed like one sentence.

  “Well, I didn’t do much at all.” Bowes hung his head. “The fact is I didn’t do enough. I did get all of their material goods though.”

  “Da, why don’t you just tell me what happened. Stop the play-acting. At the beginning, please,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

  Bowes’ words slurred together in his attempt to justify what he did. “Well, daughter, ye weren’t feeling well and I had to be getting you and that Adelaide woman home in one piece. What with her carrying on something fierce and distracting me mind from me tasks, I told the lads to meet me at any one of the several dockside saloons I frequent. I was thinking I’d be back with them in a short time, for sure.”

  Sinead glared at him. “Obviously, you weren’t, or you would be in jail with them. And that’s probably where you belong tonight.”

  “Sinead lass, don’t be so harsh on me. The day was so warm and the humidity high…” Bowes frowned, the creases on his forehead etched deep into his hairline, emphasizing hair that was slowly graying.

  Sinead grabbed at his sleeve and gave it a yank. “And?”

  “And I stopped off for a wee pint of the lager on my way back to the docks. Just to freshen me…”

  “And you met some friends…” Her mouth pursed in displeasure.

  “Nae, not really friends, ye might say.”

  “What then, da?”

  “I met a woman I hadn’t seen in many years. At one time, long, long ago, shortly after I came to America with ye and yer sister, may God bless her child’s soul in Heaven,” he said crossing himself with a quick motion. “I had a soft feeling for this woman, but she married another. I only stopped for a wee chat…”

  “But it turned into more is what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “Aye that it did, lass. We had a lot of catching up to do. She’s single again, widowed, ye know.” Bowes puffed up his chest, his pride in himself evident.

  Sinead began clasping and unclasping her hands. She rubbed them on her skirt as if they were damp. She murmured in an accusatory tone. “Did you totally forget about the lads, Da? Did you leave them to their own devices? In a place neither of them knew enough about?”

  Bowes shook his head in response. “Nae. I didn’t forget them. Aye, I did think about them. I thought about them the whole time I was talking to the lady. I just didn’t do anything about it.”

  Sinead stood and walked to the window behind the desk. She looked out into the blackness of the night, staring at nothing. “How long were you with the lady, whose name you’re not giving to me?”

  Bowes stood and joined her at the window. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Och Sinead, were only an hour or two, darlin’. I knew those boyos would be needing to get their gear off the steamer, but not until midnight.” He paced to one side of her “I didn’t figure they’d come off there so soon. I assumed on such a hot day, they’d be wanting a touch of the lager to clear the taste of the sea waters from off their palates then go back to the steamer to wait fer me.”

  “And you basically left them on their own, on the docks? Knowing what you know about the area? What did you think would happen to them in a place like that?” Sinead turned to stare at her father. “I can’t believe you just left them.”

  She walked away from the window, her distress apparent to both in the way she held her shoulders and the rigidity of her neck. She leaned against the desk and absently rubbed the shiny surface with her fingers.

  “Being greenhorns, I never thought they’d be starting any trouble. But I guess they did.” Bowes gulped and moved, trying to face Sinead again. “Must be they’re a bit more feisty than I knew them to be.” He put his hands up to take her in his arms.

  Sinead returned to the chair next to the desk and didn’t look at her da.

  Bowes came around the desk and went to the seat he sat in earlier. He looked at her as if asking for her forgiveness. “Lassie?”

  “You knew they wouldn’t have to start the trouble. In that area, the trouble finds you when you’re not even aware it’s looking for you. How could you leave those two greenies, straight from the old sod, to the likes of those who frequent the dockside saloons?” She turned away from his gaze.

  “I told the lads to be mentioning me name wherever they went. Everyone knows me down there.” Bowes’ arms raised, palms outward, as if the palms were searching for the right words to say.

  A look of disbelief crossed Sinead’s face. “And were you thinking the name Bowes Brennan would be enough? Just your name? How often do you frequent those establishments? How well are you known by the newer places that have sprung up along the thoroughfare across from the pier?” She looked straight at her da.

  “Not very often since the announcement of the Conscription. Too many hot heads there now.” Bowes shook his head and pounded a fist on the desk.

  Sinead gasped, leaned her elbow on the desk and lowered her temple into her hand. She rubbed each side of her forehead, in some terrible dream state. She formed words but none came from her mouth. A brief image of her husband’s handsome face interfered and she gasped anew, surprised his features were so clear to her. “But how did you expect those lads from Ireland to know about the draft, or the hot-beds of those saloons or…”

  Bowes jumped quickly to his explanation. “I pointed out Mulligan’s to the big one. It seems they went elsewhere.”

  Sinead closed her eyes, hoping to drown out the hazy picture her da’s words conjured up, a picture of a lad she knew long ago. She shook her head in dismay then opened her eyes wide, concentrating on the matter at hand. “Not to Clancy’s? Da, tell me they didn’t go to Clancy’s.”

  Bowes lowered his eyes and stared at his knees. When he lifted his head again to look about, a single tear of frustration slid down Sinead’s face, making him feel guilty of forcing this marriage on her.

  “They did, lass. They must have wandered into Clancy’s and got embroiled somehow in one of the strong arguments, the very kind usually going on in that place.”

  “What was the argument about?” she whispered, resigned to her father’s messes.

  Bowes shook his head. He hadn’t even asked Mulligan about that. “Lass, I don’t know. By the time I got back to the docks, the police had already taken four men away. Connor and Egan were two of the four.”

  “Did you go to the police station to see them?” Sinead stood in a flash and looked down at her da.

  Bowes stood and she shoved him back in his chair. His hands raised in protest. “I only found out about it an hour ago. I went into Mulligan’s to find out if they put in a show there, or if he knew anything about them. They didn’t go in there at all.” Bowes gestured and said, in all seriousness, “I know Mulligan would tell me the truth. Connor would be hard to miss with him being so big, and young Egan, with that red hair, and almost as big, would be a remembrance in a barkeep’s mind, for sure.”

  Sinead sat down, looked up toward the window, before looking at her da. There was hope in her eyes. “Did you talk to Mulligan?”

  “It was Mulligan himself who informed me of the gossip on the street there. He must have watched it all. When I described the lads, he told me they were definitely two of the ones taken.”

  Sinead leaped to her feet, distraught. “Why didn’t you go right to the police station and have them freed? Och, my God, what will the Dewitts think? Now, they’ll never let me keep Robbie, without a court fight.”

  Bowes stood. He tried to take Sinead in his arms to comfort her. “Daughter, ‘tis sorry I am for…”

  Her anger surfaced and her breath was hot on his face. Her voice rose to a louder pitch. “How’s your being sorry going to help? We have to do something.” Her body shook with disgust. “We can’t be leaving them there to rot. You best be
thinking up one of your fine schemes, Da. And it better be a right good one.”

  Bowes patted her back. “Easy, lass. Nothing can happen until morning. Just pretend we had a social conversation if anyone in this house asks ye. Tell them I came to find out about yer health after yer faint this afternoon.”

  “What good will that do, I’m asking? No one will believe me.”

  “Sinead, think, lass, think. Ye have all the marriage papers in that envelope I gave ye for safekeeping?” Bowes took one of her hands in his. “I couldn’t do anything earlier anyway. The police will only release them boyos to someone who can give proof of their right to be here.”

  “And how am I supposed to get out of here tomorrow morning without giving the Dewitts a reason?” She wrung her sweat-dampened hands together then wiped them on her skirt.

  “Ye, have a reason, girl. Ye have to go to church with yer da. Ye’re a Catholic and must pay yer respects to yer priest and to yer God.” Bowes watched her reaction out of the corner of his eye. He began to pace, thinking up a scheme as he moved along.

  Sinead paced alongside of him, resistant, pulling on his arm. “You know I can’t leave Robbie all alone, with no one to care for him. His governess is gone from here every Saturday night and most of Sunday. She moved away from her da. “Adelaide would never allow it. Mister Dewitt would vote in her favor, and…” She swung around to face him, her brow furrowed with lines.

  With a snap of his fingers, indicating a new idea, Bowes blurted, “We’ll take Robbie with us. The lad is Catholic, too, ye know. His own mother, the Dewitt’s daughter, signed the conversion papers and agreed to have the lad brought up in the Catholic Church. That has to stand for something.” Bowes stood straighter and gave his daughter a huge smile, positive he solved the problem and pleased with himself.

  “They only let me take him to church last Christmas and haven’t since. They keep saying it isn’t good for him to get confused, specially since they intend to bring him up in their church, now that Cavanaugh’s dead and can’t do anything about it. They claim they never signed any paper.”

  “Ye’ve got the paper. We’ll read it over another time. Tell them ye have to visit the church with yer new husband.”

  Another thought crept into Sinead’s mind. “What if they ask where my new husband’s been this whole day?”

  Bowes paced the confines of the room until an idea occurred to him. “Tell them he and his brother took a room in an inn in order to clean up and they were so tired they decided to stay the night. Aye, that’s a good one. Tell them yer da came to tell ye that…”

  “Och, to me, this sounds like another of your schemes. That always makes me fearful.” Sinead began to pace alongside her da.

  “Don’t worry this time, lass.” Bowes stopped in his tracks. He took Sinead’s hand and patted it. He looked deep into her eyes and nodded to her.

  “Ye can pull it off, lass. I’ll be arriving during the morning in me carriage to take ye and the youngster to church, where ye’re supposed to be each and every Sunday. We’ll say it’s to meet with yer husband. Tell the Dewitts, he wants to meet with ye on neutral ground to discuss things pertinent to the marriage and for the first how-do-you-do.”

  Sinead trembled in fear. She was afraid to take a chance on another of her da’s schemes. “Och, Da, this will never work. The Dewitts are suspicious of me as it is. I overheard them talking about it.”

  Bowes grabbed her by the arms. He shook her a bit. “Listen to me, Sinead, this is not the time to get weepy or scared. Ye’ve got to be a brave Irish lass and fight for what ye think is right. Ye have the papers that say Cavanaugh married ye, fair and square, and appointed ye as mother of his only son. Use that. Threaten if ye have to, but ye’ve got to get out of this house in the morning.”

  Sinead drew in a deep breath and let it out. She took control of herself. “Alright, Da, I’ll do it. I’ll insist upon taking Robbie to church to meet his new da.” Sinead chuckled low in the back of her throat and grinned at her da. She shook her head in glee, becoming a co-conspirator.

  “Good girl. I’m proud of ye. Proud to be yer da…” He grinned back and then stared at her for another moment. He coughed a bit, not sure of what he needed to say. “And Sinead, bring some old clothes with ye.”

  She frowned then smiled. “Whatever for? I don’t dress that way to go to church.”

  “Ye’ll need old clothes at the jail. Trust me. I know the best way for ye to get them boyos released without anything terrible happening.”

  “Och, you have another scheme. I can feel it.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “That I do, but I won’t divulge it until morning. I have to think more on it. So, bring yer oldest garments and all yer papers with ye.” He paused. “And ye’ll have to do some pretending once we visit the police.”

  “Yet again, without my full consent, I’m involved in one of your plans. Will it never stop?” Even as she spoke, she rolled her twinkling eyes.

  Bowes grinned broadly. “Probably not. Probably not ever.”

  “May the saints help and forgive us…”

  Chapter Six

  July 12, 1863—New York City

  A cloudless sky promised another sun-kissed day with far too much heat and no wind. Every shop and office was closed until Monday morning. Bowes worried about the smothering atmosphere in the city. People started drifting out of the stifling tenements and into the taverns. They’d seen the list of unlucky draftees published in the Sunday papers.

  He noticed the working-class families in his boarding house pore over the names and exclaim each time they recognized someone they knew. All around the city, men discussed the situation over glasses of whiskey. Their wives and mothers would shriek wild denunciations against the Conscription Law. A variety of protests, a goodly number promoted by Irishmen he knew, would be launched.

  Yet on this seemingly quiet Sunday, church bells rang throughout the city of New York. They filled the soft, warm air with a steady rhythm and called the religious of many denominations to services.

  Bowes, Sinead and Robbie joined the Sunday parade of churchgoers, traveling through the streets at a subdued pace, unlike yesterday’s mad dash to the piers. People around them traversed the streets with unusual dignity and decorum. The world seemed to be in a slowed motion.

  Sinead’s black thoughts of doubt, over her original decision to marry the man from Ireland, made the trip to the jail quiet for her, thoughtful. Her mind traveled over every mistake she ever made in her life.

  Robbie’s continual questioning over the sights and sounds of the city interrupted Sinead’s train of though. Each one of his questions grew more excited than the previous one and demanded some answer. He laughed and chattered. Without knowing it, he single-handedly kept the ride light-hearted and filled with tender humor.

  Time seemed to stop. Sinead’s frustrations began to seep away. She was unable to berate her da this morning, something she would not do in front of her son. But now, she thought some of her da’s ideas should be discussed if she wanted to get her husband out of jail.

  Her mouth held in a straight, grim line, she mumbled, “I have my oldest clothes with me. I stuffed them into my handbag. They’re probably wrinkled beyond repair.”

  “All the better. Aye,” he said, shaking his head up and down. “I’m thinking ‘tis much better if ye seem to be a work-worn and frazzled lass.”

  The subtle rise and fall of her breathing altered. “Whatever for?”

  “Ye’re supposed to be getting a drunken Irish husband and his foolish brother out of jail, after them drinking up all the money to feed the little ones,” Bowes answered, twisting his head slightly around toward the back of the carriage, a frown on his face as if he thought his daughter stupid. “Ye have to make those men in blue think ye’re a poor, suffering Irish woman, trying to bring up yer large family of lads and lasses to be decent folk, and mixed up with a sot, ye are.”

  Sinead looked at her da, who was smirking then at R
obbie. She wondered how much of her da’s words Robbie understood. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them, his curiosity over the different sights on the streets overwhelming him. At four, he seemed quite alert and intelligent, but still only a little boy.

  Her thoughts veered off in another direction, her reluctance to send the child off to school. She clasped the boy close to her for a swift hug. He wriggled out of her grasp, with a giggle. He wasn’t ready for a military school where the Dewitts wanted to send him. Sinead had no intention of letting him go.

  She shook her head, and her notions drifted back to the subject at hand, her husband and her da. At times, her da’s smug, self-confidence infuriated her, but she needed his advice now. “Tell me, Da, what would you have me do with the clothing I brought with me. It’s just an old shirt and skirt I had years ago, when I worked for the Cavanaughs as the upstairs maid.”

  “Good. Perfect, in fact.” Bowes rubbed his hands together with glee. “Sinead, do ye think ye can struggle into those clothes here in the carriage? While we’re moving, that is?”

  She looked at her da as if he were crazy. “Probably. For heaven’s sake, why, though?”

  Keeping one hand on the reins, Bowes opened one arm wide and nodded to Robbie. “Young fellow, come up here. Sit with Grandda Bee.”

  “Nae,” Sinead shouted, reaching out to grab her son, who was trying to climb over the front carriage seat. “He’ll not be sitting up there, near those horses. Absolutely not.”

  Bowes pointed his finger at her and shook it. “Daughter, ye’re doing the wrong thing to the boy, a great disservice. He has to experiment, learn about new things in life.” He shrugged his shoulders in distress and annoyance. “Och! Until man invents some other way of getting around this big old world, horses will be the very animals young Robbie needs to know about.”

  Sinead’s own innate fear of anything having to do with horses gripped her. Her face grew warm with anger over her da’s disagreeing with her upbringing of the boy. She needed to gain control of the situation, of herself. And she figured she’d better be nice to her da if he was going to help her in today’s endeavor. “Perhaps, another time. I’m too flustered this morning to think of anything but getting those lads out of jail before the family I’m living with finds out where they’ve been.”