Chapter 8 #2
Mrs. Turner stood. “Most of you know my son, Dr. Turner.” The women nodded, and Judith perked up at this.
“He asked me to mention to our group that there has been a growing number of children spending time down by the river. He fears many are living there or nearby without the supervision of adults. The police are aware of them. The children seem to be between the ages of twelve and sixteen or so and scatter rapidly when approached. He thought perhaps we could coordinate to meet nearby and offer refreshment, then encourage them to come for meals at the friendless refuge. We can make ourselves a sort of mothering brigade.”
The women chuckled at this, and Mrs. Turner continued, “We could arrange for police to keep watch in case of problems, but since we have done this kind of thing before, I think we’ll be all right.
The children apparently have no fear of begging.
We might be able to set up a station with food and other necessities. ”
“Are these children orphans?” one of the ladies asked.
“He isn’t certain,” Mrs. Turner replied. “He’s tried several times to approach them, but they run away. Roman did think, however, that he’d seen one of them before. He thought the young man might be a member of one of the families he’d been treating.”
Roman Turner, the same doctor she’d met in Philadelphia! And this was his mother and sister. How wonderful! She could easily explain her interest in him to them and perhaps have a chance to meet.
Mrs. Van Cleve again took charge and seemed so at ease. There was nothing shy or withdrawn about this woman. “With those matters settled, we’ll have our tea and conversation.”
“She grew up in the army,” Mrs. Knickerbacker said, as if reading Judith’s thoughts.
“Excuse me?” Judith asked.
The reverend’s wife laughed. She nodded her head toward Charlotte Van Cleve, who was instructing a young maid with the service of tea and refreshments.
“She grew up as the daughter of a soldier. In fact she was the first white child born in the area that is now Wisconsin. Her middle name is Ouisconsin, the French spelling of the state.”
“How fascinating.” Judith continued to watch the woman with great interest.
“She met her husband in the army and married at sixteen. They moved around a great deal and had a dozen children.”
“A dozen! Oh my.”
“Well, with those they adopted along the way, there are even more. The Van Cleves have always followed their words with actions. And you see her white hair?”
Judith nodded. It was quite lovely.
“She’s only fifty-one, but her hair went white after the stress of the war.
The governor insisted her husband take charge of the Second Minnesota Regiment.
I think it was all just too much for her.
Her eyesight and hearing have suffered too.
But she is stronger than anyone gives her credit for.
I believe she will accomplish amazing things for our cause. ”
Judith held even more admiration for the woman. She was quite the lady, and her compassion for those less fortunate was impressive.
The talk became less formal, and the women mingled with one another, sharing bits and pieces of information regarding their lives. Judith was of great interest to most, and they didn’t seem to have any problem in expressing opinions about her grandfather.
“James Ashton has always kept to himself,” one woman shared. “My husband has done business with him, but . . . well, I shouldn’t speak ill of anyone, but the results were disappointing.”
Judith saw her glance at the other women and felt rather self-conscious. She didn’t know if it was best to explain her situation or not, but telling them of her father’s plight seemed important.
“My father was disowned by him when he decided to marry my mother. They were young, and my grandfather did not approve. He had nothing more to do with my father.”
“How terrible,” Mrs. Turner murmured.
“How is it that you have come to stay with him?” Mrs. Van Cleve asked.
“It’s a rather complicated story. I will say that I have agreed to remain here for the summer. I hope to know him considerably better.”
“Perhaps you can persuade him to stop cheating men of their life savings,” an older, tired-looking woman said. The anger in her voice was most evident.
“Hazel, that was uncalled for,” another chided.
“Hardly. There’s not a one of you here who hasn’t suffered at James Ashton’s hands.” Hazel fixed Judith with a hard look. “Your grandfather has a way of dealing in business that keeps him just barely adhering to the laws of the land. He has no heart and has been the ruin of many a family.”
Judith frowned and shook her head. “I’m so very sorry to hear this. I really know nothing of the man.”
“Well, it’s time you did. Your grandfather persuaded my husband to put up property as a guarantee for one of their dealings.
I have no understanding of how it all worked together, but in the end, your grandfather was the one who held the purse strings and somehow managed to steal away our holdings.
If you don’t believe me, just ask him. Better yet, ask Mrs. Turner how he treated their family. It killed her poor husband.”
“Hazel Clemmons, you will cease this talk immediately. Judith is hardly to blame for anything her grandfather has done.” Mrs. Van Cleve stepped forward, waggling her finger. “Now, let us discuss something that is less volatile in nature.”
The women looked embarrassed, though Hazel Clemmons appeared as if she had more rage pent up inside. What had her grandfather done to these families? She had known him to be ruthless with his own people, but now it seemed he was less than honorable among his business partners as well.
“I’ll take my leave, lest I say more that I will regret.” Hazel moved toward the hall door, and Mrs. Van Cleve followed her.
Judith glanced around. “I don’t know what to say, except that I am sorry for whatever my grandfather has done to cause each of you grief.”
Mrs. Knickerbacker came to her side. “You aren’t to blame.
Especially knowing that he had nothing to do with your family.
You couldn’t know what he was doing.” She put her arm around Judith.
“Don’t let this dissuade you from continuing to participate with us.
Hazel will recover her dignity, and I’m sure she’ll apologize once she realizes just how she sounded. ”
“I don’t believe she owes me an apology.
The woman was obviously hurt. Is she correct in saying that most of you here have suffered because of my grandfather?
” Judith looked around the room. The other women had stopped talking and were obviously far more interested in what Sarah Knickerbacker had to say.
“Please. Be honest with me,” Judith begged. “I want to know the truth. Is that truly the kind of man my grandfather is?”
They slowly began to nod. One of the women Judith hadn’t yet met motioned to the Turners. “Your grandfather did Mr. Turner so wrong that he despaired of life and died.”
Judith looked to Mrs. Turner and her daughter for confirmation. Mrs. Turner moved closer and smiled. “It’s all in the past. What happened was tragic, but it is behind us. I’ve forgiven your grandfather.”
Judith thought of the angry man in church. “Who was the man who sat beside you in Sunday services?”
Her smile broadened. “That is my son, Dr. Roman Turner. If you offer your services in charitable work, you’re bound to run into him outside of church.”
“I have already met him, in Philadelphia. It was a pleasurable meeting, although our circumstances were much different. When I saw him at church, I thought he looked familiar, but when I met him, he wore a beard and mustache.”
Roman’s mother nodded. “He has changed over the years. He works tirelessly with the poor. Given your reputation for working with them as well, it seems only natural that the two of you should have encountered one another.”
“But now I fear it will be unpleasant for him to see me again,” Judith said, feeling a strange sense of sadness. “He did not know then that I was an Ashton.”
She understood now why he had scowled in such a hateful manner. His mother might well have learned to forgive James Ashton Sr., but it was clear that Dr. Turner had not.