Somewhere in the World

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Williamsburg, Virginia

1858

Margaret waited until after the evening meal to broach the subject of their removal to Massachusetts to her mother. Dinner had been a quiet affair; it being Friday, Mrs. Hale had assumed her husband would attend the church council meeting held the second Friday of each month. Therefore, she had ordered an early dinner of fried chicken and Virginia cured ham, her husband being partial to the ham from this region, roasted potatoes and yams, collard greens seasoned with bacon, the last of the string beans from the small vegetable garden behind their house, and spoon bread, along with the regular relishes that accompanied such meals—watermelon pickle, chow-chow, and pickled beets put up by their servant, Dixon.

Not much was said during supper—Mr. Hale was preoccupied with his thoughts of the impending change in his family’s circumstances, and was struck dumb as a consequence.

Mrs. Hale’s mind was focused on the menus for the coming weekend—should they have the Perrys and Wythes to dinner on Sunday? She also was turning in her head schemes for broaching the subject of a visit to her sister. Mr. Hale was always concerned with the expense involved in a visit to her family in Charleston, but she so longed to see her sister and participate in the family’s activities in South Carolina and Georgia. To visit her childhood home, to attend a cotillion or visit with old friends and acquaintances would be a balm to her soul. It was one of her few true pleasures in life, now that her children were older and did not occupy her time and attention as they once had.

For her part, Margaret was terrified of the task that awaited her after the evening meal. She picked at her food, finding her stomach too roiled by the news she had so lately learned and so soon would have to impart. The chicken which she loved was ashes in her mouth, and she tasted nothing in her sickening anticipation of the impending discussion with her mother.

When the main meal had been removed, and Dixon has scolded Margaret roundly for her peckish appetite, when the coffee had been served and the dessert dishes cleared away, Mr. Hale rose swiftly from the table. Clearing his throat, he quietly announced, “I believe I shall take a walk in the evening twilight—this may be one of the last fine days of autumn, for all we know.” A weak smile crossed his features and was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Mrs. Hale stared up at him in surprise. “A walk? But I thought you had a meeting of the synod this evening?”

Mr. Hale opened his mouth, cast an agonized glance at Margaret, and hastened from the room. A moment later, they heard the door slam behind him.

Mrs. Hale gaped in astonishment, and turned wide eyes toward her daughter. “Margaret, what has gotten into your father?”

Margaret’s lips parted, but no sound emerged. Mrs. Hale’s astonishment quickly transmuted to alarm. “Margaret, you know something—I can tell from your face. You have the same guilty expression you were wont to wear when you had done something wrong.”

Her daughter hung her head and took a deep breath. She could no longer avoid the inevitable. “Mamma, when you sent me to the church this afternoon to find Papa, I found him in great distress.”

“Distress—why was should he be distressed?” Mrs. Hale plucked at the sleeve of her gown, her tone peckish. She was dressed in a soft gown the color of the yellow roses that bloomed on the bush beside the front entrance. Margaret thought she looked wan this evening; perhaps the heat of the day had been too much for one of her delicate constitution.

“He—he has come to a very difficult decision, Mamma.” Margaret reached across the table and covered her mother’s hand with her own. “He believes he must leave the church.”