The Rough Rider (10 page)

Later that night when Lewis and Esther were on their way home, Esther said suddenly, “If I were you, I wouldn’t go to visit Alice.”

Lewis stared at her in surprise. “Why, you don’t believe that about her devouring young men, I hope!”

Esther shook her head and her lips tightened. “There’s something about her that draws men to her. I’d hate to see you be one of those who gets hurt.”

Lewis laughed. “I’m not likely to get hurt. She wouldn’t be interested in a man like me. I’ve no money and no prospects that would interest her. Don’t worry—I won’t be seeing her more than once anyway.”

****

After spending the next afternoon with Alice, Lewis Winslow, to his surprise, found himself plunged into a whirlwind of activities in the following days. For some reason that even he couldn’t understand, Alice Cates had chosen him to be her
escort, and night after night he entered into the social whirl of New York City. The vitality of the nineties was reflected in the vigorous vaudeville that filled the stages, the blatant burlesque, and the heartrending melodramas . . . and Alice loved it all!

The two attended
Dangers of a Great City
and
The Girl I Left Behind Me
on Broadway, and laughed themselves silly at Weber and Fields’ music hall routine. They also were thrilled by Buffalo Bill Cody’s appearance on the stage. Cody was accompanied by Wild Bill Hickok, and after the play, Alice Cates led Lewis back to meet the famous scout and gunman.

Lewis told Alice about his cousin Laurie and her husband, Cody, who had traveled for a time with Bill Cody’s show as star performers.

After they left the theater, Lewis said doubtfully, “I think they’re more actors than Wild West heroes.”

“I know, but it was so exhilarating!” Alice said, hanging on to his arm as she led him to a restaurant.

****

Two weeks after Lewis’s first meeting with Alice, his social whirlwind was interrupted by a social gathering of a different sort. His aunt took him to a meeting at the Water Street Mission. After having seen some of the finest homes and restaurants as Alice’s escort, Lewis was shocked at the bare appearance of the hall they now sat in. As he listened to the service, he was rather dumbfounded by what he saw. This was not a conventional church, nor a conventional revival with fiery exhortations or loud declarations of fate. Awful Gardner, the preacher, had placed a large sign over the front of the auditorium that read, “Speakers are limited to one minute.”

Lola leaned over and whispered to Lewis, “There were some long-winded testimonies at first, but Brother Gardner put a quick stop to that.” After the service, Lola led Lewis
to the front of the hall to meet Awful Gardner, who grinned broadly and shook his hand firmly.

“Let me show you around,” he said. “Or better still, let this young lady show you what we do here.” He turned and put his hand on a young lady’s arm who was standing close by. “Allow me to introduce Miss Deborah Laurent. Miss Laurent—this is a visitor to our grand city, Mr. Lewis Winslow.”

Lewis exchanged polite greetings with the young woman, and then she showed him around the simple facility. Lewis was curious and possessed a keen sense of perception. Most of the women, as well as the men at the mission, showed signs of a rough upbringing. But there was a delicacy and grace to Deborah Laurent that did not quite fit the setting. Tentatively he asked, “Are you from New York, Miss Laurent?”

“No, I’m not,” she said simply.

Expecting her to go on, Lewis felt awkward when she said no more. Her answer seemed to shut a door in his face. He tried again, saying, “Have you been with the Water Street Mission for a long time?”

“A little over a year now.” Again, there was a calm smile on the girl’s face, but it was very plain that she didn’t want to discuss anything concerning herself. “What about you, Mr. Winslow?”

“Oh, please—call me Lewis,” he said. “Actually I don’t know what I’m doing here—in New York, I mean.” He explained how he’d come to visit his uncle and aunt and was looking for a profession. As they stood talking, Lewis noted that she was a sensitive young woman who could listen well, though she did not speak much herself.

She showed him the few rooms they used to help those who came in off the street. One was a small dining room sparsely furnished with some rough benches and a few tables donated by a merchant. The kitchen in the back was tiny, with a Windsor stove to prepare the meals. She explained that the upper floors had a few rooms where Awful Gardner and some of the volunteers stayed, and some for those who
had made a commitment of faith in Jesus and wanted help to change their lives.

Lewis was impressed at the dedication he sensed in Deborah Laurent and thanked her for showing him around. Right then his aunt approached and said it was time to go.

Later, in the carriage on the way home, he mentioned the girl to his aunt.

“Yes, she seems to come from different stock, doesn’t she! She and the other young lady, Gail Summers, have just finished medical training at Baxter Hospital.” Lola gave him a sideways look. He was wearing a new suit that Mark had insisted on buying for him as a birthday present. It was made of gray wool, and the tailor they’d gone to had made it to fit him excellently. Lewis was not as striking in appearance as some of the other Winslow men, but he had a vitality and earnestness about him. “Are you interested in Miss Laurent?” she asked.

“Oh no,” Lewis denied quickly. “I was just curious about her. She seems of finer upbringing than most people we saw there.”

Lewis visited the mission twice more the following week on the nights he was not out with Alice Cates attending another party. One night early in the service, at Awful’s insistence, Lewis gave his own testimony. He always enjoyed speaking of his relationship with the Lord.

After his brief talk, Deborah Laurent came up to him, smiled, and said, “That was a fine testimony.”

“Well,” Lewis flushed, “it wasn’t much—not after some of the dramatic conversions I’ve heard about happening around here. Some of these men and women have gone through some hard times.” His words seemed to make an impression on Deborah. She lowered her eyes suddenly and, it seemed, was struck silent. Lewis wondered if he had offended her, but he was not sure how. Deborah’s silence puzzled him.

Finally, she lifted her eyes and said, “I think it’s wonderful—someone saved when they’re very young.” Again, she
hesitated, and there was a vulnerability in her soft lips as she whispered, “It would save so much grief and heartache.”

Lewis waited for her to continue, but she did not. Instead, she told him how much Awful had done to help so many people. Then someone came looking for her and she excused herself. Later he asked Gail directly about the young woman, but Gail merely said, “She’s a very private person, Lewis. I suspect she’s suffered some type of tragedy, but she’s got it all locked up inside her. That’s too bad—we ought not to hide those things, but she won’t speak of it even to me.”

****

During Lewis’s visit to New York, he heard much about the trouble that was stirring in Cuba. At many of the social galas he had attended with Alice, it seemed to be the foremost topic of discussion among many of the prominent businessmen. According to what the papers said, the Cuban Revolution had been a thoroughly unpleasant affair—ruthless, in fact, with men and women killed indiscriminately. As the reports came back, many in the States were horrified at the stories of searches, tortures, and executions.

Thirty-two-year-old William Randolph Hearst was using his
New York Journal
as a powerful weapon to stir up feeling against the war. His competitor, Joseph Pulitzer, had entered into a newspaper war, and the two incited not only the people of the United States, but Congress and President McKinley as well.

With the heightened interest in what was occurring in Cuba, the battleship
Maine,
the newest commissioned warship in the American Navy, was ordered to make a courtesy call in the Port of Havana. Actually, the voyage was the first step in international activities for the United States of America. The
Maine
arrived in the harbor on January 25, 1898, and set anchor. On the night of February 15, at 9:40
P.M
., a tremendous explosion rocked the harbor. The blast ripped into the hull of the USS
Maine,
and of the three hundred fifty
officers and men aboard, two hundred sixty of them perished in the explosion. The proud vessel was demolished completely, sinking into the harbor, leaving only the tip of the twisted wreckage as a memorial of the disaster. An American court of inquiry was immediately convened, but their findings were inconclusive. It could not be decided if a mine had sunk the
Maine,
or if an internal explosion had ripped the hull apart.

But no such doubts troubled the press, and bold headlines appeared in the
Journal:
“The Warship
Maine
Split In Two By An Enemy’s Secret Infernal Machine.” Soon the words, “Remember the
Maine
. . .” were heard chanted in front of government offices all over the country. Antagonistic feelings toward Spain reached a boiling point, and the nation surged toward war. No one seemed able to stop it.

****

“If I were a man, I’d go at once.” Alice Cates had gathered a doting audience of young men and women from the upper ranks of New York around her at an afternoon party. Alice was not particularly known for her political opinions, but since the sinking of the
Maine,
she had agitated loudly—vehemently and constantly—for the country to avenge the “foul and unnatural deed” as she deemed it.

One of the young men, a tall, langood fellow named Derek Hansen, said, “Why, Alice, we’re not even sure the
Maine
was destroyed by a mine!”

“
I’m
certain—and so is everyone with any sense, Derek!” she said, casting a glance around the room that would tolerate no challenge. Once her mind was made up, there was no more chance of turning her than one could turn a powerful locomotive. At every gathering now, she continued to harangue those who were not ready to jump into a full-scale war.

She looked beautiful, Lewis had to admit, as she stood there surrounded by her admirers. She had on a pale green dress with an emerald necklace and a tiara of flashing diamonds crowning her blond hair. He himself had been caught up by
her rhetoric and now said, “I think Alice is right. We can’t let this incident go by. If Spain pushes us around, what’s to stop any foreign power from doing it?”

Alice beamed at him and came and took his arm. “That’s exactly right! Lewis has the spirit of a true American!” She looked scornfully around at the other young men, saying, “I’m ashamed of all of you. If I were a man, I’d do something right away!”

“Do what?” Derek protested. “Even President McKinley is telling us to go at this with caution. He’s not rushing into war.”

“He will, though,” Lewis said quickly. He’d been studying the headlines carefully and talking to his Uncle Mark, who knew a great deal about foreign policy. “You wait—we’ll be at war with Spain in thirty days.”

Alice hugged him, and he felt a surge of attraction at her closeness. Knowing she wanted to hear it, he said recklessly, “And I’ll be the first one to sign up!”

Alice stepped back, pleased at his words, then took up Lewis’s announcement at once. She spoke of it as a foregone deed as she turned to those around her, saying, “When Lewis’s unit arrives in Cuba he’ll be a real hero!”

When word of Lewis’s intention to enlist reached Mark Winslow, he was very disturbed. That night in the parlor Mark said to Lola, “That girl’s getting Lewis all stirred up. He’s liable to go out and do something foolish!”

“He’s not the only one,” Lola said. “The whole country’s ready to go to war against Spain.” She shook her head sadly. “I never saw anything like it. They talk about it as if they were going on a picnic, and it’s not going to pass either. Did you see the paper this morning?”

“No,” said Mark as he stood up and began to pace around the room.

“Teddy Roosevelt, Secretary of the Navy, has volunteered himself as a commander and offered to raise a company of cavalry to fight in the war. Even Buffalo Bill Cody has done
the same thing. He says he’ll raise a bunch of cowboys and they’ll finish the Spaniards off in a month. It’s like a fever, Mark—I don’t understand it!”

Mark shook his head. “I’ve been talking to a group of the young men in the office and they’re all talking like this.” He hesitated, then said, “Some of them talk about the Civil War. It was long before their time, and in a way, I think they’ve romanticized it and now want their own war—to put on a uniform and march out with flags waving and bugles blowing . . .” He shook his head in disgust. “It just wasn’t like that, Lola. War’s a nasty, dirty business! There’s no glory in it—men dying, and women, too. Families are torn apart by it all.”

“Mark,” she said, “we’ll have to write Davis and Belle. I’m sure they don’t have any idea of all that’s going on with Lewis.”

“I think that’s a good idea. It’d break their hearts if any-thing ever happened to Lewis. They’ve placed all their confidence in him. Aaron just doesn’t seem to be going the way of the Lord, although I’m praying for him.” The two talked for a while, both of them burdened by the pressures that lay over the country underneath the shrill cries of “Remember the
Maine!
”

****

Gail stopped by the apartment with a small parcel of food for her mother and to look for Jeb. When she went in, she found her mother sitting at the table. “Hello, Mother. Where’s Jeb?”

“He’s not here,” she said. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were drawn tightly together. “I’m worried about him, Gail. He’s starting to run with a rough crowd. They’re older boys and they use him, I’m afraid.”

“Why does he do it, Mother?”

“He’s flattered, of course, to be taken in as young as he is. I want you to talk to him, Gail.”

“He used to listen to me,” Gail said sadly, “but not now. How’s Pa?”

“He’s gotten better and gone back to work some. He’s quieter now, though.” She did not say so, but the sickness of Harry Lawson had made her life immensely better. Lawson still tipped the bottle from time to time, but nothing like the old days, and he had practically stopped abusing her. She came over and put her arm around Gail, saying, “I’m really worried about Jeb. I wish he could go somewhere else. The streets are no place for a boy.”