Corespondentia

A chance meeting on a train creates a special correspondence between two very different people in the 1800s.

    Though it was but one brief evening, I shall never forget it.  The year was 1849 and I was on my way to the Seneca Falls Convention.  Zachary Taylor was president and America was heading toward a Civil War.  I, Josephine Montgomery, wanted women to win their suffrage. Women’s rights had long been a passion of mine, but I had not had much opportunity to address my concerns publicly. When I read about the convention, I just had to attend.

    My husband, Douglas Montgomery, was kind enough not to put up much of a fuss when I announced that I wanted to go to the convention.  He was progressive in many ways, but still a bit possessive.  Mostly he didn’t like the idea of me traveling alone all the way from Boston, Massachusetts, to Seneca Falls, New York, so I agreed to take my friend Louise Shaw.  Louise, unfortunately, suffered from motion sickness shortly after we boarded our train.  I was left to entertain myself on the two day journey. 

    After tending to Louis’s needs, I wandered to the dinning car to amuse myself with some tea and good book.  The waiter poured some English Gray Tea for me and I settled to read my friend Thoreau’s book On Walden Pond.  I had read but a few pages when a handsome young gentleman interrupted me.

     “Excuse me,” he said.

     I looked up and saw a man in uniform standing before me.  He had kind, brown eyes.

     “Do you mind if I sit here? The dinning car is filled and you are alone. You aren’t waiting for anyone are you?”

     “No sir,” I smiled. Then I remembered poor Louise.  “My friend is too ill to join me this evening. You may sit if you like.”

     “What are you reading?” he asked pointing toward the book.

     “On Walden Pond. It is quite good thus far, but I haven’t managed to read much this evening.  I’m afraid my thoughts are elsewhere.”

     “No doubt fretting about your ill friend.  What is her name?”

     “Louise.  And I am Jo.”

     “Pleased to meet you Jo.  My name is Eli Smith and I am sorry to hear about your friend.”

      “Me too.”  I set my book down, open to where I’d left off. I knew that I would not get to finish the chapter I was on, but that didn’t bother me. A good bit of company is always worth distraction.  The book would be waiting for me when the gentleman returned to his car later that night. 

      “Where are you heading Miss Jo?”

      “It’s Mrs. Montgomery,” I corrected, not wanting him to get any improper ideas.

      “Mrs. Montgomery,” he smiled.  I dare say that he was getting improper ideas despite my discouragement, but he never acted upon any ideas he might have entertained that night. 

       “We are heading to Seneca Falls for the Women’s Suffrage Convention.  What is your business kind sir?”

        “On my way back home to Missouri.  I was in Boston for Military School.  I just graduated and am finally able to return to my family.”

       “That must be wonderful for you.”

       “Yes,” he smiled.  The waiter came by and he caught his attention long enough to order a tea for himself and a bit of food.  He asked if I cared for anything more and I politely declined.  When the waiter scurried off, Eli continued, “It has been several years since I have seen my father, mother, brother and three sisters.”

       “I couldn’t imagine being away from my family for so long,” I replied taking a sip of my now tepid tea.

       “Yes, it was difficult. But I might be away longer if the rumors are true.”

       “What rumors?” I asked setting my tea cup down gently and looking up at him inquisitively.

        “In school we heard rumors about the south wanting to withdrawal from the union over the issues of abolition.  My own state is slave state, but many of the citizens are divided on the issue. A Civil War seems not just likely, but unavoidable I think.”

       “How awful!” I cried. 

       Eli sat back, “Yes, but America is going to need young men like myself to lead soldiers into battle.”

      “Well, I do hope that you will be able to lead your men to victory and end the war as quickly as possible�"should their be one anyway.”

       “Being from Boston and for Women’s Rights, I imagine you feel the slaves should be freed as well.”

       “Of course! Are they not human beings such as you and I?”

       “Many people feel that Negroes do not possess souls as you and I have. They feel they are less than human.”

       “Many men feel that women are less than human as well, yet if we prick us do we not bleed?  We have thoughts and emotions just as you men do.  It is wrong for men to oppress women as it wrong for men to oppress other men�"no matter what color their skin may be.”

       “Well put my dear, well put. Couldn’t agree more.”  The waiter returned with his tea and biscuits, so he took a drink and nibbled at his food while I watched.  “But many land holders don’t wish to lose their property.  They view the men and women who work the tobacco and cotton fields as part of their land and their plantations.  They fear that they would lose money with out their slaves.”

       I took another sip of my tea thoughtfully and then replied, “Money may be lost, but it is far less than the cost we pay for owning slaves. On earth or in heaven, the men who own slaves will suffer for their sins.”

     “Didn’t take you for a religious minded woman.”

     “Oh, I do believe in God Sir, but I am more of transcendentalist than anything.  My friends in Boston hold weekly Salons to discuss our beliefs and the world around us.  We feel that God is not just in heaven, but in the grass and the trees and the flowers.  He is inside us well.  Therefore, women are no longer second to men, but their equal. For God is not just in men or just white men. He is in you and me and everyone.” 

     Eli smiled.  “Perhaps.  You speak eloquently.  I do hope you get to speak at the convention.”

     “Thank you. I hope that I get a chance to speak as well. But there will be women from all over the country there and I am not sure we will all get a chance to speak.”

     “What does your husband have to say about your speaking skills?”

     “Often he wishes I would speak much less,” I smiled. 

   “I imagine many men would feel that way, but I am thrilled you have engaged me in conversation this fine evening. I was feeling a bit melancholy until I saw you sitting with your book.  I knew then that we might get along.”

    “Do you like to read as well?”

    “Yes, I’ve read many books.  Mostly about history and war and things of that nature, but I also enjoy Shakespeare and novels such as Treasure Island as well.”

     “Have you read Herodotus?”
     “Of course.”

     “Plato?”

     “Who hasn’t?” he laughed.

     “Unfortunately there are many men and women who remain ignorant of the classics,” I sighed and took another sip of tea.  I frowned and decided to ask for another cup since that one had gone too cold for my tastes.  I called the waiter over and he took away my old cup and gave me a fresh cup of steaming hot tea.  “My husband has taken an interest in transcendentalism, but I fear it is for the charming ladies in the Salon and not for the reading material.”

      “Ah, yes, women can create an interest in things for men where there was none before.” He chuckled.

      “Yes, they can,” I smiled. 

      “So how long have you been married?”

      “Nearly five years now,” I said. 

      “Any children?”

      “Sadly, no. God has not blessed us with any yet.”
      “Perhaps he will bless you with some soon. I am sure you would be a very wise and kind mother to them.”

      “Thank you. Are you married?”

      “No, but I do have a fiancé that I am returning home to. We are to be married shortly after I arrive home. Her name is Margaret McDonald�"a fine Scottish Lass with fiery red hair.” 

      “And you hope to have children then?”

      “Yes, many children.”

       “I think you will be a good father as well.”

       “I certainly hope so. My father broke his back making sure we had food on our table and a roof over our heads. I hope that I can do at least that much for my family, if not more.”

       “I am sure you will do just fine.”

       “Soldiers aren’t paid as well as you might think, but I am also a jack of all trades, so I am sure I will get buy.  I plan on buying a piece of land and farming it.  Perhaps I won’t even have to purchase it. They say that out west they are giving land away.”
       “Yes, I read something about that.”

       “If you stake your claim and squat on your claim for more than a year, it’s yours.  I can build a cabin and work the land wherever I am, be it Missouri or out in the wild western territories.”

       I shook my head, “Oh, I’m not sure I’d want to venture out there.  They say it is endlessly flat and boring.  I love the lush green forests and farm lands around Boston. Besides, I am not sure I could go without so many things for so long.  And death is practically lurking around every corner with the natives and the savage weather!”

       Eli laughed. “It isn’t that dangerous if you know what you’re doing. And it’s not like you’d be completely isolated from civilization all together. The train brings supplies all the way from one ocean to the next.” 

      “I suppose so.”

      “That is what Walden Pond is all about isn’t it?”

      “What?”

      “Your book On Walden Pond.  Didn’t Henry David Thoreau go to live in the wild to show that it was possible to leave all of society behind?”

       “Why, yes, he did.  He lived all by himself for a long time to show that we need not be dependent on things like trains, ships and governments.”

        “Living out west would be the same thing.”

        “Perhaps. I do so admire my friend Henry, but I am not sure I would be able to do everything that he can do. As a woman, I have not been shown how to chop wood and build things.  I do enjoy the outdoors, but I have not learned how take care of myself.  It is my hope that when women get the vote, and they will get it, that we will be able to learn how to do these things that have been in the domain of men for so long.”

       Eli scratched his head and nodded. “It would be mighty nice to have women folk do some of the hard work we do. I know it is not considered proper for women to help with the tough things, but, I do believe some women already know how to chop wood and all of that.  Women from the country aren’t discouraged as much as you city folk from learning all that.  Sometimes they need to know how to do those things because there is no one else around to do it for them.”

      “Yes, I suppose they do have to learn to do certain things for themselves when away from cities and towns, where there are capable men to help them.”

      “It only makes sense. What happens when all the men go off to war? Who is going to take care of the chores that the soldiers used to do at home?  Young boys have to step up, but so do the women.”

     “Women are necessary, not just for taking care of the house and the children. That is my point exactly.  However, many men refuse to respect us and treat us like we deserve to be treated.  We pull our weight and we work hard. Why shouldn’t we be recognized for the important roles we play in our society?  Why should men look down upon us and think of us merely as wives and mothers and not the women we can be!”

      “And I ask; why is it that people think one thing and say another? Why do they expect women to work hard and then not acknowledge their contributions?”

      “Same reason why we expect Negroes to support our society and not acknowledge them as integral part of it.  Without them we wouldn’t be as near a wealthy country as we are now.  Yet, I do not see the politicians thanking them for helping us build this great nation.  Nor do the politicians thank women for helping them build America either. It is such a shame that no one gets the proper credit.”

       Eli drew in a deep breath and nodded as I finished my passionate speech.  I could see a flare of passion in his eyes as well.  Suddenly self-conscious and modest, I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. I dared not name the reason for his smile, but I knew it.  I knew that he wanted to embrace me.  And to tell the truth, I would not have minded had I not been a married woman. 

      “Do not be ashamed of your opinions my dear,” he said tilting my chin up with his hand so our eyes met.  “The world needs more women like you.”

      “I...I just didn’t mean to be so foreword. You must think me rude.”

      He laughed.  “You are merely speaking your mind. If a man spoke as such no one would think he was rude.  Many women simply speak of the weather or fashion or gossip, but not you. Your honesty and intelligence is refreshing.”

     “You make me blush sir,” I replied wishing I could hide my flushed face.

     “And that is all I’ll do my lady. I am a gentleman after all.  But I do not think it would do anyone harm to compliment you. You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside and I am very happy to have met you.”

     “As I am happy to have met you Eli.”

     “I’d like to think fate had something to do with it. Perhaps I could have your address and we could correspond? Or would that be improper?  Do you think your husband would be too upset by it?”

     “He will not care. He never reads my correspondences or even pays any the slightest bit of attention to them” I pulled a piece of paper from my bag and a fountain pen.  I wrote down my address in Boston and handed the paper to him.  Eli wrote down his address in Missouri at the bottom, tore it off and handed it to me.

     “Thank you Mrs. Jo Montgomery.  I look forward to hearing all about the convention and your trip home,” Eli said stuffing my address in his pocket.

      “As I look forward to hearing about how you build your new home and if you go to war.  I would love to know what it is like on the front lines.”

      “I will write when I can,” Eli said drinking the rest of tea.  “But I am exhausted and ready to turn in for the night.  Perhaps we can talk tomorrow before you arrive at your destination.  Maybe I could meet your friend as well, if she is feeling better.”

       “Perhaps,” I smiled. 

       Eli excused himself from the table and I returned to reading my book. It was only about fifteen minutes later that I decided to retire to bed.  I left my tea cup and took my book back with me.  Louise was snoring in her bed as I climbed in above her.  I sighed and thought of the conversation I’d had with Eli Smith. It had been stimulating indeed.  I wasn’t sure what to make out of it though. Would he truly write me as he said?  I wanted to hear from him, but I wasn’t sure he’d remember to write. Once he got off the train he’d be sure to forget me. I was just another pretty face wasn’t I? No, I knew that our conversation was more than polite pleasantries, but I didn’t know if meant anything. I didn’t feel as if he’d been improper, yet I felt guilty as if he had been.  I fell asleep as perplexed as I’d been before I’d tried to make sense of it all.

     The next day Louise felt a little bit better.  We walked to the dinning car, but she was still too nauseated to eat.  I walked her back to our sleeping car and then returned to eat alone once again.  I looked for Eli, but did not see him at breakfast.  I waited for a long time in the dinning car. Most of the passengers had left by the time I finally got out of my seat and left to check on Louise.  When I returned for dinner, my hopes were high.  I knew that we were scheduled to arrive at our destination by 9pm that night, so that would be my last chance to see him. 

     My heart beat rapidly as I saw him approach. This time he was dressed not in his uniform, but in more formal wear.  Eli sat down in front of me without asking this time, some how knowing I longed to see him there.  He smiled and I asked, “Where were you this morning?” Oh, how I sounded like a jealous wife and how I loathed myself for it.

     “I had difficulty sleeping last night. It was nearly daylight by the time I drifted off, so I let myself sleep the day away.  I awoke refreshed and ready to meet the day promptly at 4pm.” He gave a little laugh. “I am sorry if my absence distressed you.”
     “Of course not,” I said trying to sound unaffected.

     “Forgive me for being so presumptuous as to imagine you perhaps being concerned when I did not appear.  I thought you might have missed me.”

     “I did, but I was sure that you must have had more pressing business than to speak with me.”

     “Sleep was a most pressing business indeed,” he smiled.

     “You are not like anyone I’ve ever met before Mr. Smith.”

     “Eli. And I do hope that is a good thing.”

     “Yes. I find it most intriguing that you speak proper like most gentlemen I know and yet there are times you slip into speaking more…”

      “Crudely like country folk?” he finished for her.

      “I suppose that comes from being raised in the country and then sent off to proper school.  I was taught how to speak well, among other things. Even still, sometimes I fall back to speaking how I did as a child.”

      “I don’t mind either way. I just thought it was peculiar to hear you speak eloquently and then less formally I suppose.”

      “Well, I suppose that is just who I am�"a bit of city and a bit of country all together. Folks don’t seem to take me as seriously when I speak less formally.  Women are more impressed when I speak like a gentleman.” He winked.

     “I see that you are as charming as you are intelligent Mr. Smith.”

     There was a long pause before Eli spoke again, “So where is your friend? Is she still ill?”

    “Yes, I do hope she recovers before the convention.”

     We spoke awhile longer about the convention and the conventions leaders before ordering their food and eating.  The waiter assumed that we were far more familiar with each other than they were, but neither Eli nor I corrected him.  It was 7:30pm when I finally excused myself, saying that I had to gather my things and prepare Louise for our arrival at the station. 

     When I stood up Eli took my hand in his, raised it to his lips and kissed it. A warmth flooded my chest as his lips brushed my skin. His hand lingered in mind, not wishing to let go.  Our eyes met and his longing to kiss my lips was plain.  Though I loved my dear Douglas with all my heart, I must admit that it was tempting to let him kiss me.  Instead, I sighed and gently pulled away. He bowed as I brushed past him to exit the dinning car.  I smiled thinking of how he must have watched me leave. 

      That was the last time I ever saw Eli Smith, but it was not the last I heard from him. I attended the convention and was caught up in the excitement of it all. It wasn’t until the lonely return trip back to Boston that I thought of Eli.  With nothing else to occupy my time, I sat down to write him a letter telling him of my experiences at the convention.  I told him how I admired Elizabeth Cady Stanton and how we women had declared ourselves equal to men. Stanton thought getting the right to vote and being able to own property were the two most important rights we needed to obtain. I’d written several pages before I closed and signed my name. 

      I addressed the envelope and mailed it to him the moment I arrived back in Boston. My husband met me at the train station and asked how my journey had been. I told him of everything except meeting Eli. I am not sure why, but I could not find the words to explain what had transpired on the train. 

      A couple of weeks after my arrival in Boston, I received a reply from Eli. He’d made it to Missouri safe and sound and had married Margaret.  Despite the joy he found in his new marriage, he said I’d always hold a special place in his heart.  I clutched his letter to my heart wondering what would have happened if we’d met years earlier, before I’d met Douglas.  That, of course did not happen.  So I wondered if perhaps he and I would meet in marry in another time and place in the future. Rather we do or not, all I have now is Eli’s continued letters.  I look forward to them every month. They are my secret joy, my secret Corespondentia.