Chapter 3

Letter from Ms. Mare Adams to Mrs. Elizabeth Johnson

February 12, 1862

Dear Sister,

I hope this letter finds you and your beloved Herbert well. I miss all of you tremendously!

I had hoped that I could come visit as we had discussed several months ago, but all this talk of war has shattered the idea. War? Who could ever think that we would be at war since the Revolution? I am no lover of the Slave Trade of course, but fighting a war over it? I do not understand. I know you do not like me to discuss my “business” with you, but who else do I have to talk to other than my girls? They work for me, so they will not understand the complexities of business, finance, taxation, or other things, as you my sweet sister.

It is truly a blessing that you were able to marry into the family you did, and then pursue studies at the university. Herbert is a Godsend!

Even as war rages, I attempt to keep to a regular routine, and make the girls do the same. I wake early, first as usual, make breakfast (I will send you a recipe for a new pie I found from one of the Free People on Pratt Street!), then cook for the girls. Once Sarah and Olga are awake, we continue making breakfast for the others. I step away to tend to my bookkeeping, write letters, look at dress patterns for the evening, and then sit outside for a smoke while watching the ships in the harbour. I often send Sarah to the dressmaker here in Fells Point. The woman makes the most beautiful designs in all of Baltimore. I have calculated that if business continues on the same path, by this time next year I will be able to buy a small property I have my eye on in one of the upscale neighborhoods West of here.

With two properties (even paying off the police) I can leave this life in a few years. Maybe even come to Washington to live with you, Herbert, and the girls! I will have enough money to build a small house on your property if Herbert is amenable to the idea. It is this thought which keeps me going even when I want to give in to my darkest thoughts.

I love you, sweet Elizabeth! More than you will ever truly know! Please write back and tell me all the wonderful things that are happening in your life, and how Herbert fares in his new political career. God Bless and keep you safe!

Your Loving Sister,

Mare

THE BALTIMORE MESSENGER Newspaper

Issue #13, The Twenty-third of February, 1862

Byline written by Darcy Kilpatrick

******** Missing Boy last seen at Docks! ********

A young lad by name of Isiah Capston was reported missing near the dock. His mother, one Sarah Capston, twenty-four years of age, stated she had last seen her son half an hour before sunset when she sent him on errand to the market. Witnesses at the fish market remember the boy buying from several carts, but not what time this was, or which direction the boy was traveling. “It was before nightfall.” one witness recalls. Another witness claimed that he heard a “screaming sound” come from the docks at night. Like that of a “great owl, or other night creature”. This was referenced to have occurred at the same time as the fire on Pier 17.

No further information or witnesses came forward to give details.

The Union has placed a commander in charge of homicides by the title, Captain Alfred Tenny of the Second Maryland Infantry, under Colonel John Sommer. Capt. Tenny is tasked with investigating the killings of Secessionists which occurred last Winter, and reports of violent attacks against Pro-Union business owners. If reports of the Second Maryland Infantry redirecting to North Carolina for the War effort are true, Capt. Tenny will remain behind in Baltimore until the end of War, or further notice, to keep peace and quell activities deemed “rebellious”.

******

Mare Adams Diary

February 23, 1862

Oh, the worst has happened! Poor Sarah! Her child, Isiah kidnapped! I fear the child is dead, though I do not dare breathe that to the poor wretch. I have instructed the girls to tend to her needs as they can, love on her, and do small things to ease her suffering mind. I understand the loss of a child all too well…I plan to walk to the Union station to discern what these fellows are going to do about finding Sarah’s missing child! Some of my older girls laughed at me as I began to stride out the doorway, dressed in my Sunday best.

One remarked, “Oh they’re in for it now! Once they get a tongue lashing from Ms. Mare, they’ll beg to search the streets for the lad!!”

The rest laughed along with her. I was inclined to laugh as well until we noticed Sarah standing on the landing of the stairs. Her face with a ghostly parlor, and skin sallow. She came down the rest of the way, between all of us, and stood in front of me. Sarah lifted her doe eyes and stared straight through my soul.

“Make ‘em find my Isiah. Please Ms. Adams! Make ‘em find him!” She tried to continue, but collapsed into a sobbing heap, support by the arms of the women surrounding her.

“I will.” And, I meant those very words. I left before the others could see

the tears forming in the edges of my eyes.

******

After entering the Union building on Pratt Street I was greeted by all manner of noise. Men about their daily business, Confederate sympathizers locked in cells screaming about injustice, business people and shop owners filing claims and reports, and even Free Blacks sitting in small groups waiting their turn to ask about something. All this activity flowing around me like an angry beehive. I did not know where to begin until a nice young man in a Union uniform waved me over to a small desk. I smiled and stepped his way.

As I recollect, his name was Private Denny.

“How can I help you ma’am?” Private Denny asked with a smile. I glanced around. His was the only smile I could see inside this dreary building. I remembered that this had been a meat storage warehouse or something before the Union took possession of it after declaring Martial Law last year.

“Hello…Private Denny…My name is Ms. Mare Adams, and I run a business a few blocks from here. I was wondering; could I speak to the person in charge?”

“What business is that ma’am?” He asked as he began filling out some kind of paperwork.

“It is…ah…a proprietary business where I employ several women.”

It sounded strange coming from my mouth and describing it to a stranger.

He did not look up from his writing. “Boarding house?”

“Well, yes. A boarding house. Could you tell me who I would need to speak to?”

“What kind of crime are you reporting ma’am?”

“A missing child.”

I waited for some kind of horrified reaction from Private Denny, but received none.

“Can you provide a description of your child? What is his or her age? Hair color? How tall is the child? Does the child have any marks? When did you last see your child?”

Too many questions. It occurred to me that I should have brought poor Sarah with me, but she was in no condition to answer these questions. The poor dear could barely stand up.

“Well Private, I am not the child’s mother. I am here on behalf of the poor girl I employ…” Private Denny glanced up finally.

“Where is the child’s mother? I can’t continue my report without her information ma’am. Rules says so right here.” Private Denny held up a thick manual of some kind for my inspection from the other side of the desk. I did not understand what the Manual of Union Military Procedures for Domestic Applications meant and did not care. All I wanted was to find someone in charge who could help me.

I bent over the desk, allowing for just a hint of cleavage to display for the Private’s eyes. As I anticipated, his eyes opened wide and a blush caught his cheeks. After glancing a bit too long, he lowered his eyes and coughed into his hand.

“I think…ahhh…Let me check ifin the Captain is back ma’am!” He mumbled.

Private Denny rose from his chair, almost tripped over it, and walked to the back of the building and into a secluded office. He came back scarce minutes later, still blushing, and stood next to me, making a very pointed show of not looking at me.

“I ah…Let me escort you to his office ma’am. The Captain’s I mean. Please, ah,

follow me, would you?”

I smiled like the genteel Southern lady I was not, and nodded my head.

“Lead the way Private.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 4