That Quixotic Lady: The Story of a Remarkable Lady That History Failed to Remember!

By Shirley Butler LaRocca

When Jane McManus was a little girl, her father told her she would make an outstanding lawyerif only she were a boy. Jane decided then to learn everything a boy couldonly better. The Quixotic Lady is the fictional story of the life of Jane McManus, a rare female figure in the 1800s.

After her failed marriage to Allan Storm, Jane became associated with some of the most powerful men of the time; in the nineteenth century it was rare to find a woman who so influenced the politics of the day. From her writings in the New York newspapers, the politicians gauged public reaction. Jane rallied from one cause to another such as the Texas annexation, the Mexican War, the political sentiment over whether Americans should help the Cubans obtain freedom from Spain, and the annexation of the Dominican Republic. However, these daring undertakings met more failure than success.

Jane McManus Storm Cazneau, a beautiful young woman, whose spirit was not broken by failures, never ceased to gamble along lines far removed from staid conformity in her quest for an elusive fortune. Her story, That Quixotic Lady, is one of a remarkable woman, whom history failed to remember.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 1, 2008
• ISBN: 9781440103575

Shirley Butler LaRocca

Shirley Butler LaRocca grew up in Georgia, where she also attended college. She now lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, Joseph. This is her debut novel.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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A cool breeze blew the curtains, and the late afternoon sun sent rays of light through the bedroom windows. Although it was already past seven, the daylight gave no hint of fading. Even for early spring, the New York evenings were arriving unfashionably late.

Looking at the two gowns on the armoire door, Jane could not decide which one to wear. She liked both, but one had to be careful about wearing satin in the daylight; it just seemed in such bad taste. She did so want to look just right for this evening maybe wear the blue silk she had recently purchased and not had a chance to wear. The stand-up collar with the raglan sleeves made it look so elegant. Yes, she thought, this would be quite right for this evening.

Jane wandered downstairs, going from room to room, strolling into the nursery to watch the nursemaid play with little William. She walked into the parlor and sat on the new Chippendale sofa, the most extravagant thing she and Allan had purchased in their marriage. She looked at the clock on the mantle; realizing what the time was, she now began to worry. Where was Allan? Shaking her head to get rid of unpleasant thoughts, she went up to their bedroom to start dressing.

They were expected at her parents for a supper party in less than an hour, and Allan was supposed to have been home hours ago. Punctuality was an essential part of her personality, but not his. Daylight was now beginning to vanish, and shadows were appearing as Jane waited.

The evening’s guest of honor was former Vice President Colonel Aaron Burr, referred to as Colonel since the American Revolution. However, if not for fate and political intrigue, he would have been president.

Jane smiled and remembered what her father told her about the election. After a much-heated election and with the electoral vote tied, the Federalist House of Representatives had to make the final decision on whether it was Thomas Jefferson or Aaron Burr. The House spent days in debates, arguments, and secret deals. Then thirty-eight counts later, Jefferson became president by one vote and Burr the vice president.

Since those days, Burr had lived nine lives in one lifetime. Jane’s father told her about Colonel Burr’s involvement in his many adventures and difficulties. These stories really fascinated Jane, as she admired his tenacity; and in her youthful eyes, he was still an impressive figure. Now she knew him as he was past his adventuring and at the time in life when a person is casting an uneasy eye toward the hereafter. Of course, Burr would never admit such.

The judge told Jane, when people mentioned the name Aaron Burr, that it was always as the man who killed Alexander Hamilton in the country’s famous duel. It seemed that many years ago, dueling was an accepted way to solve insults between gentlemen.

Jane wondered how many men would have died if the States had not passed a law against dueling. She sat at her dressing table and just shook her head, thinking; men could not even settle an argument without guns or some kind of fight.

Looking at the clock again, she was now more irritated than worried. She despised being late, and especially tonight of all nights. She sighed again. Why tonight? Her father was always so prompt and precise in everything he did. Tonight was a special night, and she did not want to be late.

Jane began arranging her dark brown hair in an attractive way, with blue ribbons woven throughout. She did not think herself beautiful; most people thought otherwise. But she did think herself attractive. What made her face so fascinating were her bold features: the high cheekbones; full, sensuous lips; and smooth olive skin. Her violet eyes, set beneath thickly arched dark brows, and her well-boned nose were characteristic of her father’s side of the family, the proud old established McManus family. She knew she inherited her fiery, passionate nature from her ancestors, and this upbringing played a big part in forming her character.

While looking in the mirror, she reminisced how, when she was a little girl, her father would take her on his knee and tell her about his different legal and political situations; and later, she became such a good student, he even told her, You would make an outstanding lawyer, if only you were a boy. After that comment, she decided to learn everything a boy could, only better.

She laughed aloud, thinking how her mother would scold her for listening at the library door. Nevertheless, she would still stand there, overhearing conversations between her father and prominent men. She would make mental notes about things to ask her father. He was delighted that Jane was taking an interest, because her brothers wanted nothing to do with politics or with law.

Now it seemed she was always waiting for Allan; she propped her chin on her hand and looked around the charming bedroom. It had been such a happy home at first. She gazed out at the late shadows cast by the large, spreading trees making different kinds of figures. She and Allan often made a game of deciding what each looked like. She smiled at that thought.

So why must she have these terrible feelings, especially when she was looking forward to a wonderful evening? She did not want to have to worry about her marriage, not now. She only wanted how it had been. She tried to put her finger on when things started going wrong. Why all this now? Why was she remembering the past?

She remembered when she first met Allan, so handsome and high-spirited, and had written her Aunt Britannia immediately: I have met the world’s most wonderful and fascinating man.

Allan sat at the small table, reluctant to go home. He knew there was the supper party tonight, but he just did not feel right about being there; he never seemed to be able to talk to those men and their wives. They were the prominent families of the community and nation. Why the problem? All he had to do was simply talk with them. It was always as if Jane was ready to go anywhere so he could meet with different people. He knew she was trying to help. Why must her father be such an intimidating figure?

His mug was empty, and he nodded to the barmaid to refill it. Another would not hurt, just give him more courage.

His mind wandered. He had everything he had always wanted. It just did not feel right. He could not do it. It seemed his past would always come up. There was a time he was close to his father, a good, decent man with his own mercantile store; then the problems started. This was when his father could not face the fact he had lost his business and their home; he completely gave up.

Allan’s family life did not present the image he so wanted. His father had known how he felt and told him, Allan, you have too much learning to be beaten down. Leave and find your place in the world. Now he was beginning to be just like his father, who would retreat from any responsibility. Ale was the only thing that could build his confidence. Therefore, the tavern had been home away from home for his father, and now for him.

When he met Judge McManus and Jane, he wanted their kind of life. Now, presented with an opportunity to succeed, he could not. When the judge had retired, he left the office to Allan. Problems began building with all the stress. The pressure was becoming too much!

He finished his mug, put on his coat, and slowly walked out the door.

Jane frowned. Had Allan been ready to take on such a responsibility? She knew her father’s older clients were not willing to deal with such a new young man and had taken their business to others.

She was tired of contending with Allan’s strange sudden shifts of temperament and emotional moods, often erupting into violent outbursts. She could tell when things were going wrong; the laugh lines around his eyes disappeared, and he became morosely silent. He was jealous of any man, even her father, who paid attention to her.

Jane was so close to her father, which Allan could not understand. It seemed now Allan was beginning to resemble what he said his father was like. Only recently, Jane had learned this was the real reason Allan had come to Troy.

Jane closed her eyes to try to remove the thoughts; she was tired of even thinking about it, so she would put it out of her mind. Now it had become so late; she would just go without Allan, not wanting her family to have to wait for supper.

As she straightened her dress and twisted around to see the back of the gown in the mirror, she heard steps in the hall. She turned her head and listened and then hurried down the stairs to the front hallway to greet him. Allan, did you forget we have plans for this evening?

He just stood staring at her. I know what you are thinking, but I did not forget. I just stopped at the tavern for an ale or maybe two, to help with the evening.

What do you mean, help with this evening? We are only going to father’s.

Yes, my dutiful wife, always father’s; now with the big man Burr being there, I will be like a foot stool. I know they are all talking about me, he growled.

Allan, do not be ridiculous. They all want you there. You are part of the family, Jane said, trying to calm and pacify him.

Well, you go on. I am not going. I have had enough trying to be Judge William McManus’s replacement; even my own son bears his name. It just is too much ... it just will not work anymore, and not another word! he said as he headed to their bedroom, taking his coat and tie off, dropping them as he went.

Jane watched him as he strode down the hallway and up the stairs. She was so angry. She grabbed her cape and evening bag from a chair near the front door and rushed out. I will not beg; I am tired of begging, she said aloud to herself as she slammed the door.

It was a short distance; in fact, the family’s home was in view of theirs. As she approached, Amos, her father’s man, was just shutting the front door when he saw her. Why, Miss Jane, you should not be out by yourself at night.

Oh, it is all right, Amos. I thought I would just walk over to get a little air, she said, handing him her cape just as her father walked into the hallway.

Ah, at last, Jane, my dear, he said, taking her arm and looking around. Where is Allan?

Oh, Father, you know he did not feel well. Leaving the subject at that, she walked into the parlor to greet Aaron Burr and the other guests.

Mrs. Jane Storm, every time I see you, you are more beautiful. It is so good to see you, Colonel Burr said, kissing her hand. Jane lowered her eyes and gently smiled. She knew of his flattering of the ladies. He looked around. Hell’s to be, I hope I am not going to miss seeing Mr. Storm.

He will not be joining us tonight; he sends his regrets, Jane spoke, removing her hand, and turned to greet her mother and the other guests. They had all gathered in the drawing room to see and talk with the famous Aaron Burr.

Just as Amos announced supper, Jane was talking with a group of ladies, and Mrs. Ross touched her arm. Is that not Mr. Storm coming in? Jane glanced over to the entrance of the drawing room, certain Mrs. Ross was mistaken. To her astonishment, Allan, his step purposeful, headed straight for her. Thank God, he is dressed properly, she thought and moved quickly toward him, taking his arm in what she hoped appeared to be an affectionate gesture.

Speaking loud enough for those nearby to hear, she said, Allan, I am so glad you felt well enough to come. We were just before going into supper; you are just in time.

When Judge McManus noticed Allan coming in, he moved over to greet him as if nothing was wrong. Allan, my boy, do come and have a word with Colonel Burr, he said as he guided Allan away from Jane and over to the other side of the room.

The evening passed smoothly, with talk of various topics, with the elegant Colonel Burr telling some rather funny stories of his time in Congress and his relationship with President Jefferson. Of course, everyone wanted to know about that election. Why did it have to come down to so many vote counts, and how did he really feel about it?

Burr was more than happy to tell his admiring audience about all that had taken place. You will not believe how it was, just waiting to see how those fools would vote. One time it would be for me, then the next for Jefferson. After a while, I just wanted it to be over so I could get on with my life.

Colonel, how was it being vice president to Jefferson? Was he easy to get along with? Judge McManus asked as he sipped his after-supper brandy.

I strenuously did not want to be vice president, having come so close to the top job. Jefferson was a fair enough gent, but we had our differences. If you knew anything about him, you would know he was shy and very quiet, and when he spoke in front of groups, he frequently got terrible headaches and eventually did not do it at all. That is one of the reasons Jefferson admired Patrick Henry so much; as you know, Henry was a great orator. Burr stopped to refill his glass from the brandy carafe and then continued.

Jefferson sent his State of the Union address over to Congress just as it was written out, because he did not want to come and deliver it. After that, other presidents did the same. Some did not want to be in front of their critics, and others just did not want to take the time. They felt once written, someone else could read it. You know Jefferson was a great writer, but usually great writers are not very dramatic.

The group was enthralled with Burr and held on to every word he spoke. No one would dare interrupt, and they wanted him to keep telling different stories. However, it was getting late and he was rather tired after the day’s long carriage ride

Allan remained quiet; he only spoke when someone would ask him a question. He would laugh a little too loud at the most inopportune times. The others tried to bring him into the conversation, but it was to no avail. During supper, Jane had tried to cover the small mishaps Allan made without attracting any attention. However, with Allan partaking of the wine instead of eating, on top of the afternoon spent in the tavern, and now with the brandy, he was practically intoxicated, and this only added to the tension already between them.

Would this be the end? Jane knew they could not continue to live like this. As she observed Allan the rest of the evening, he just sat with the same uninterested expression.

With goodnights extended to each other, there were handshakes and small talk all around. Colonel Burr lingered with his good night to Jane and Allan.

Burr had complimented Jane during the evening, telling her how knowledgeable she was of the different topics discussed. He was very impressed with her intelligence and ability to carry on conversations in which ladies normally did not participate. He even compared her to his beloved daughter Theodosia, whom he had lost in a horrendous ship accident.

As they walked home, Allan reached for Jane’s arm, and she pulled away, gathering her cape around closer, walking on without responding to him. This disturbed Allan, and he became more infuriated just thinking of Burr’s attention to Jane all evening.

Well, it seems you enjoyed your high-and-mighty friend, he said in an ugly tone. He thinks himself so important with all his stories. I think he sometimes just wants the rest of us to feel small. He is always using ‘colonel.’ He was not even a true colonel, and it has been years! I think it is about time he be just a plain mister.

I try to enjoy my friends, more than I can say you do, Jane retorted. I do not intend to listen to how you feel so inferior to my friends and my father. Yes, he was a colonel. Why should you care? He was at least in the war. Why not just grow up and be a man!

She could not have said anything worse. He suddenly stopped and grabbed her, looking at her with ferocious eyes. Do not ever say that to me again … ever! Allan slapped her as hard as he could, causing Jane to fall to the ground. He did not even turn but hurried on ahead, not caring about Jane’s condition. Jane pulled herself up, straightened her cape, and looked around to see if anyone saw what happened, especially anyone coming from the party. She cared what they thought; she still had her pride. Thankfully, no one was around. Jane’s eyes were full of tears, and she tasted blood on her lips. She brushed off the grass and dirt and, with her head held high and with dignity, walked up the steps to a wide-open front door.

If he ever raises a hand to me again, there’s no telling what I will do, she thought, then said aloud, No, I am Judge McManus’s daughter, and I am better than that!

Jane felt an anger rising. She wanted to shout at him, to wound him as he had wounded her. She wanted to scream. Why do I have to love such a faithless man? Why she could not escape from her emotions as easily as he could from his? She tried to pray for calm and courage, cling to her pride, and let Allan know he could not treat her in such a way. She had raged against him in the past and hoped it would shock him into normal behavior; she had even called him a drunk. He took this as if he knew it was true and was helpless to do anything about it.

Several weeks later, it was over. Jane took little William to her parents’ home to stay. The marriage had become a failure. Jane was now a mother alone with a young son to take care of; however, she felt like a child herself.

Allan had left, and no one knew where he had gone. He just disappeared from the family. Judge McManus tried everything he knew to locate him, but it was just no use. When someone wants to disappear, it is as if the earth opens up and swallows him. It was impossible to know where Allan had gone.

After the initial shock of the failure had set in, Jane knew this was the time to make some very difficult decisions and decided to go back to her maiden name of McManus. This was not what she wanted, but she needed to restore her pride. She was embarrassed. It had been her decision to marry hurriedly, and she had been so sure. As always, she had not listened to anyone. She knew everything … so she thought!

Foolishly, Jane had prepared to be a loving wife and mother, but it did not happen that way. Now was the time to accept the reality of the situation. She could not put all the blame on Allan and knew she had to take some of the blame. Maybe she had not been ready, as her aunt had tried to tell her. Now was the time to be a mature woman and be wise enough to understand and never forget that nothing in life is for sure!

Experience makes one wiser; if Jane could choose again, she would chose someone like her father or his friends, whom she had known so well and had treated her as an intelligent person.

Jane and little William settled down with her parents. All the items from her house were stored away. The new life had a calming effect on the two of them. William did not cry as much and loved playing at his grandparents’ home. It was reassuring to be home around people who loved them without conditions.

One evening, as Jane sat with William, looking at a picture book, she heard, Jane, Jane, please come to the library. Judge McManus called his daughter. His voice sounded so strange and troubled. Jane rushed to the library, passing her mother, who had a bewildered look on her face. Please, Mother, go back to your needlework and watch little William. Everything is fine. She knew her mother would only make things worse if there was a problem.

Jane hated talking to her mother in such a manner, but there had been strained relations between the two for years. This in no way lessened the love that she bore for her mother. On the contrary, there had been a great bond between mother and daughter until Jane was about ten. Her mother changed and would spend much of her time in her bedroom, and sometimes Jane would not see her for days. At those times, her father became father and mother to the three children. The boys did not seem to care or even notice, because they were always so busy with their interests; but Jane cared.

As she ran into the library, Judge McManus sat with his head in his hands. Father, what is wrong? Jane said, kneeling beside his chair taking his hand in hers. The look on his face told her there was something terribly wrong; never had he been so distressed.

I received an answer to my letter to Aaron. He is someone I can always turn to in times like this. He started to go on and then stopped, looking up at the ceiling. Seeming to gather courage, he said, The bank has gone into default. He paused and took a deep breath. I have lost all the family investments—all our money is lost.

Jane looked at him in horror; she could not understand what he was saying. It was all a blur. The judge started speaking again in a low voice, I tried to do what I could, with my law practice gone, and I cannot turn to my mother anymore. She is so aged and ill, she just would not understand.

Jane knew that after Judge McManus turned his law practice over to Allan, he had become a stockholder in the local Farmer’s State Bank and invested his entire estate in the bank, but that was all she knew. He was still talking in a low voice. The bank, as you probably know, is part of the Bank of United States. Well, President Jackson, under political pressure, has vetoed the charter for the bank. This, of course, has greatly affected the local Troy bank.

Jane closed her eyes; she knew what her father meant about her grandmother’s financial help. Mary McManus had long shown a trait of the Mohican Indian women by becoming involved in the business of buying and selling land. By doing so, she became quite wealthy. Mary gave the family money numerous times, but there had been no new money for a long while because of her illness.

Only certain people in Troy knew her grandmother Mary McManus was of Indian descent, and the family never openly discussed this fact. When Jane’s grandfather Hugh married Mary, she was a member of the local Mohican Indian tribe. The tribe had fought with the colonist in upper New York state, and he met her while on one of the French and Indian War campaigns.

Father, how could this happen?

It was my foolish idea to make money fast. Nothing comes without hard work and certainly not for free. I have kept this to myself, because of your situation with Allan. I knew you did not need any more stress.

Father, you know you can always depend on me. You have raised me to be strong. You should have told the family. There has to be something I can do. All this time, I have only been thinking of myself, and you have had this terrible problem. You should have told me.

I wrote Colonel Burr for help. I asked if he knew of a place I could take the family and settle. I need to get away and start again, maybe even go to a new country. Jane was shocked; what did he mean, a new country? They belonged in Troy.

He continued, still with his head down, Aaron has recommended the Austin Colony in the new territory of Mexican Texas, where the land is very cheap. There are immigrants trying to settle there. He paused and then said, A company in New York City that the colonel invested in is selling land scripts for purchase of the Mexican Texas land. He suggests you go to New York, and he would see to getting you a job with this company, just until we can work out the arrangement to buy some land.

Jane did not say a word. It was very silent in the room. Then, in a low sob of grief, the judge said, Of course, you cannot go alone. I do not want you to go! I just cannot go at this time, and Phillip has the farm and Robert has started a new job as a surveyor, so he cannot go. However, he will be able to go with you to Mexican Texas, if need be. By the sound of the letter, I believe the colonel thinks you are the perfect one for the job. Again, the room became very quiet and there was another long pause. I guess your mother will have to travel with you as your companion.

Jane was stunned; this was so sudden. She was not ready to go live in New York. It was such a big city, and she was used to Troy. She was only starting to feel normal again—now this. If her father said to go, she certainly would go. It seemed to Jane her father had already thought about what they needed to do and had planned it all.

Of course, Father, I most definitely will go and do what must be done. I am just so surprised about this whole situation. It is rather strange I had not heard you mention anything before.

The judge put his arms around Jane and sobbed. She had never seen her father this emotional—this proud man who everyone looked up to, now broken. Seeing him this way broke her heart. Jane got up off her knees, started to walk out, and turned to look at her distraught father. Yes, she thought, I will do anything for you.

Chapter 2

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As Jane and her mother prepared to leave Troy, the town was in the throes of expectation of cholera. Cholera had never appeared in this country until recently; now it had started in Canada and moved south.

The town feared that some boats in the river, loaded with immigrants, had cholera victims aboard. This made the town’s citizens outraged, and they were becoming scared. Michel Hogan, writer for the Troy Press, the local newspaper, wrote:

Some of the activities at this time were laughable, and to the extreme. Especially the action of the Troy militia commander, dressed in his full uniform and with different colored rooster feathers in his hat sitting cocked on his head, sauntering down the First Methodist church aisle and with great fanfare. He broke in on the preacher’s sermon and, in a loud, rigorous tone, ordered all the militia members to appear armed and equipped, as the law directed, to the city square. Some of our finest ladies fainted and others laughed at his performance, but nevertheless, it did break up the morning service. Of course, later it was found there was not one case of the sickness on the boats and only immigrants from Sweden headed west. However, one of the most unusual deaths at this time was the local blacksmith, Albert Brown, whose shop stands at northwest corner of Elm and Third Streets. He was a big man with great strength. He was talking loudly to the street crowd in the morning of how he would beat this disease should he get it. He was taken ill about three o’clock in the afternoon and died at eight o’clock that night. He was buried the same night.

This fear of the cholera on the river had necessitated Jane’s trip to New York by stagecoach rather than by boat. With death all around, Jane was glad to be leaving and sent little William to stay with her aunt.

Judge McManus took Jane and her mother to the station and, in a most solemn voice, said, Now you know what to do, looking down, with hands in his pockets, seeming to look for something. Go to Colonel Burr’s office; you have the address. No … first go to the hotel he suggested. The judge frowned as if trying to think if he had forgotten anything. You do have your money?

Father, we have gone over all this many times; I have it all memorized, Jane laughed. I love you very much and will make you proud. You are not to worry. It will work out, she said, leaning out the coach’s door to give him another kiss on the cheek. Tears ran down her face though she had tried so hard to remain collected.

I know you will, because you always have, he said, turning so she could not see his tears. The horses pawing at the ground were ready, pulling on the reins to start; the coach took off immediately, pushing Jane back in the seat. She then stuck her head out of the little window, holding her bonnet, and again waved good-bye to her father.

He never thinks we can do anything without a paper of instructions, Catherine complained bitterly, but Jane did not want to hear any of this. Her father was always right.

Jane and her mother got as comfortable as possible; the coach was full, with four other passengers. It seemed like it took a while before everyone got comfortable. There was constant moving of legs and arms and then a bag put in a different place.

The upper half of the coach’s body had an open framework, covered by thin leather curtains that buttoned down to the solid panels below. This allowed for ventilation and gave passengers an excellent, if dusty, view of the passing landscape in fair weather. As the coach rocked back and forth on its leather braces, the passengers felt tossed as if in a blanket. On steep hills, the passengers frequently got out and walked, lightening the load for the horses.

With the coach travelers thrown together in such great intimacy, they would pass the time discussing everyone’s life story, where they were going and why. To Jane’s good luck, no one in the coach smoked, so no smoke lingered in the close confinement. After a while, the main conversation turned to the cholera scare. It had reached some areas of New York City, and everyone seemed worried whether it would be in their location.

Jane knew of the scare in Troy but had not realized they were traveling into it again. A couple of the passengers from New York City had been visiting in Troy and knew all about the epidemic. They told everyone they were very uncomfortable about going back to New York.

The discussion, which seemed to Jane to go on forever, was about how the disease had come from Europe to Canada and eventually down through New York State to the poorer sections of New York City.

One older man, who had been listening to the conversation, spoke up. I believe this cholera afflicts ones who are least in God’s grace. It is the judgment of a divine God. Cholera is a punishment for sinners, not good people. Everyone just stared at this old man, who seemed so certain in what he was saying. Look at the sections in New York it hit; these are bad areas with lots of sin there and the fewest number of Christians. That red light district called Five Corners has been hit the worst. Those evildoers had it coming, and many of the town’s fanciest are happy to see them go.

One of the passengers, a Mr. Collins, turned to the older man. I think that is enough talk about death and who deserves it. I feel that is your opinion, not others’. after Mr. Collins spoke up, the old man said not another word.

Looking out the window, Mr. Collins said, New York is probably the most inflicted of all the states. Each town along the Erie Canal suffers despite quarantines and last minute attempts to try to purify. Even small villages and isolated farms are stricken. This is where the disease is most terrible, because they have to face it often, without preachers or doctors. When the cholera comes to the smallest towns, some of the citizens will pack up and leave. They spread the disease throughout the whole countryside.

After that was said, the talk stopped and everyone was in his or her own thoughts.

Jane turned her head and closed her eyes, thinking about what the older man had said. Surely this is not what the people of New York think. She felt a little sorry for him and even forgot his name. However, to have such feelings for the ill-fated ones was sad. The citizens who did get the disease deserved some pity. God is a just God.

The sun had finished its daily course, followed by a clear, cold night, when the coach arrived at the door of a country tavern, near the foot of a mountain range. It started to snow, but the travelers were soon comfortable in front of a warm hickory wood fire. The bright blaze, together with the neatness of everything in the room, showed the weary travelers that the tavern they had stopped at was far beyond the normal taverns. The proprietor and his wife served a plain but palatable supper, and everyone ate ravenously.

Your tavern is delightful, and the supper was most delicious, Jane complimented the proprietor.

You are kind, madam, and it is our wish our home will be your home and your stay will be an agreeable one and everyone will come back in the future.

The fire felt good after being in the coach for so long. After their supper and a few pleasantries with the proprietor, his wife, and the other guests, Jane and her mother went to a small room with two cots. Jane looked out the window and could not see anything, only the limbs on the trees bending down from the heavy snow. She hoped it would not delay their journey. It did feel good to lie down and not be tossed and bumped as they had been on the road. The driver said they would possibly arrive in New York City the next afternoon, if the weather held up.

Jane was glad for her mother’s companionship and decided to make this a pleasant a time for her mother and try to heal the many years of conflict between them. She looked out the small window again. The curtains had been pulled back to allow a better view of the outside. It was still the same. She worried what would happen if the coach could not travel and then remembered what her grandmother had told her: Do not worry. Things will happen as they are supposed to. You have only one life, so live it wisely, not with worry.

The next morning was the complete opposite of the night before; the sun was out, shining very brightly, and the snow seemed to be melting rapidly. On leaving the tavern, one man departed and two young girls boarded the coach, making the rest of the trip a little crowded. The two girls were rather unusual in their dress and manners, and much freer in their conversation and less reserved than girls Jane had known. Around mid-afternoon, the carriage—with mud covering the wheels after such a trip over melting, snow-soaked dirt roads—drove down one of the largest streets in New York City. It stopped at a small inn, and the girls left the coach with a laughing good-bye and a joyful Hope to see you soon.

Mr. Collins, more curious than the others, said, I feel our fellow travelers were not of good reputation. Tapping on the side of the coach, he asked the driver to wait. He stepped into the inn after the girls, to make inquiries. Jane could not understand what he was trying to find out.

He soon returned with the information he wanted. He smirked. Just as I expected, this part of the city has similar characters. The other men in the coach laughed and nodded their heads in agreement. Catherine sighed in disgust.

Jane and her mother were amazed by all the hustle and bustle of every street they passed. The coach soon pulled in front of a three-story hotel, on the corner of Madison Street, with a large sign reading The Madison Hotel. This was a residence hotel for families, which the colonel had arranged for them.

The coach came to a stop. A heavyset man opened the door. Welcome, ladies, to New York City, he said in a heavy foreign accent with a big smile. He began to gather their trunk and bags. Jane turned and wished everyone in the coach a pleasant day and thanked them for an enjoyable trip. She and her mother, picking up smaller items, walked through the double door leading into a parlor with heavy, overstuffed chairs and large green plants all about.

Jane walked up to a small receiving desk. They stood for a few moments until a young man said, Welcome. May I be of service? The young man spoke before looking up from the newspaper, acting bored and not paying any attention to what was going on.

Yes you may. Colonel Burr has arranged our stay, and McManus is the name,

With the mention of the name Burr, he became more attentive. Ah, it is all arranged on the second floor up front. You will enjoy the view of the city; I hope this will be satisfactory?

Yes, that sounds nice, thank you. Please show us to our room, as the trip has been tiring.

Once in the room, Jane busied herself putting the clothes in the armoire, which helped her hide just how nervous she was. She had to let her mother know she could handle things and that the situation was under control. If not, her mother would probably fall apart. Jane did not need that, not now.

She sat at the small desk to write a note to Colonel Burr and her father to let them know they had arrived safely. I will have the man downstairs see that both letters get taken care of, Jane said to her mother, who was moving from one window to the other, looking out at the street scenes.

After supper in the small hotel dining parlor, they were back in their room for the evening and looking out the window at the city street. Black smoke was billowing up in the distance, and after a few minutes, it began to reach the hotel. Jane decided she had better see what this was. She rushed down the stairs to ask what the problem was.

A fire has broken out in several tenements a few blocks away. These tenements are really firetraps. This is where most of the new immigrants live. Several families settle in one apartment, so it is very crowded, the young hotel man told Jane with a worried look on his face. But please do not be distressed. It will turn out all right.

They could hear the church and fire bells; this was the custom upon an outbreak of a fire, to warn the people of the fire and call for all fire stations’ help. If the fire is at night, the watchman in his tower will ring the alarm and hang out of his window a pole with a lantern on the end, pointing in the direction of the fire. He would then call out the street where the fire is located. The young man seemed to be trying to calm several of the other guests, who was milling around in the small lobby.

The streets were filling up with on-lookers and children, getting in the way of the fire engines. Some of the locals on the street were helping with the hoses and trying to help get people out of the streets. Jane rushed back to their room to tell her mother what she had learned, as she knew her mother would be most concerned.

Jane was perplexed at the sight of a fire engine pulled by one horse; men pulled the other fire engines and apparatuses. Looking again at the horse, Jane could not believe her eyes. The horse’s mane and tail were shaved and painted with a skunk-like stripe down the horse’s back.

Look, Mother, only one horse. I wonder why not more, and why in the world would they paint that poor horse that way?

At the same time Jane spoke, a housemaid entered with a water basin and fresh towels. Putting down the basin, she turned. I am sorry but could not help but hear what you said about that one horse. A rival neighborhood fire crew broke into the stable and did it. Most firefighters do not like horses; they take jobs away from men. Now, there is only one horse. The fire station has to use the horse, because they lost so many men to the cholera. She stopped and looked down.

Thank you. We just arrived and don’t know much about the city. The way you said that—do you have someone at the fire house?

The housemaid nodded her head. My brother, he was one who … She turned and left the room quickly. Jane watched her leave and noted the sadness in her voice.

She and her mother watched. The red flames jumped high in the air and the smell of smoke was heavy now, and they could see the buildings crashing down. I knew we should not have come to this place. We will meet our end, lamented Catherine.

Oh, Mother, just look at all the people and firefighters. We certainly are in good hands, Jane answered with a look of excitement on her face.

After long hours, things settled down and the fire grew smaller and away from the hotel. After watching the fire and the commotion and having such an exhausting day, they readied themselves for bed. Jane had finally convinced her mother that they would not die that night. They fell right to sleep.

The sun was bright, and most of the smoke from the previous evening had vanished. Jane and her mother decided to see what they could. They walked up and down small, dim, cluttered streets. They became interested in watching the people going about their daily business. The people seemed to be of all different ethnic backgrounds. They came to cobblestone streets lined with little houses that extended from Thirteenth Street to the dry docks, on the east to the riverside, and then on the west to Broadway. Then the bigger streets became straight and wide; they were formerly very narrow lanes.

Jane looked up in amazement at Broadway Street, the principal thoroughfare, where the crowds were flocking to the mercantile establishments. The businesses included a wide variety of shops, with goods to tempt the passerby. There were stores of clothing, haberdashery, hosiery, gloves, and other articles of apparel, all with signs emblazoned on their storefronts for all to see. Things were so well displayed, Jane and her mother could not decide on what to purchase, so they walked on without purchasing anything.

They continued on to the financial district on Wall Street, where buildings seemed taller. Oh look, Mother, there is the Astor House. It is so beautiful. I read this is one of the first great New York hotels and a meeting place for famous people and politicians. Maybe we will see someone we know. Jane was so excited; she seemed like a young, carefree girl.

Further down Broadway were several churches with services extending for hours. You know, Jane, the way a family observes Sunday is up to each family. It does seem women respect the Sabbath more so than men do, probably because a woman’s social life is centered on her religion. The tavern for men is what church is for women; it is their center of social life, making for some, a home away from home.

As her mother talked, Jane realized this was what had happened to Allan. Her mood changed and tears came to her eyes. After regaining her composure, not wanting her mother to see her tears, they continued walking among the people rushing from one place to another. It was difficult to tell it was the Sabbath; everything seemed to be busy as any other day.

They came upon the areas where the fire had devastated the buildings, ashes still smoldering on the walkways and the tired firefighters sitting in the streets with blacked faces from the smoke and soot. It had taken them all night to extinguish the fire. The streets were littered with house wares and families sitting hunched together, Jane could tell of their desperation. She did not know what to do, so with her head down, she and her mother walked on.

Jane and Catherine