After lifting the arm, she straightened it, then prepared to pull. “Okay, one, two, three…” She set the bone, stealing peeks at the boy’s face for any undue distress. He bore down well.

“Good job. The worst is over. Now I’ll wrap your arm in the bandage and smooth the plaster over it. Once it dries, I’ll call on your ma.”

An excellent patient, Joey nodded.

By the time she’d applied the plaster and allowed the cast to fully dry, the sound of the front door opening alerted her someone had arrived home. The office door creaked inward to reveal Cassidy’s mother.

Arlene Stuart brushed a hand over her honey-colored bun to smooth it as she strode into the office. “I see we have an unexpected patient.”

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Stuart,” Joey replied.

“He fell from the oak tree outside the kitchen,” Cassidy explained.

“Oh, I see.” She inspected the cast.

“I’m finished up in here,” Cassidy said, “so now that you’re home, I’ll fetch his ma.”

“I’d be more than happy to look after Joey.” Her mother walked her to the office door. “I saw that fancy city doctor in town…Madison.” She grimaced. “Folks don’t have anything but praise for him. Think he’s God’s gift to the town now your father’s gone.”

“Doctor Madison,” Cassidy spat. “He believes he can steal all our patients out from under us.” She fisted her hands. “I just hope once Quinn finishes his internship in Harrisburg, we can rebuild the practice.”

Arlene sucked on her lower lip. ‘What about the women you’ve been seeing as a midwife. They aren’t abandoning you, are they?”

“I’m not sure. Mrs. Tasker mentioned Doctor Madison the other day. Wondered if he might be able to give her those newfangled pain relievers like ether or chloroform. And I’m not qualified to administer those.”

“Oh, Cassie. I hope Quinn can help once he’s back. Without payment from patients, we only have Matt’s pay from the bank to keep us going.” She glanced back at Joey who played with a tongue depressor. “Why don’t you let his ma know he’s here so she can fetch him? I’ll keep him entertained in the meantime.”

Cassidy nodded and left the office. She pinned her black felt hat on and threw a shawl over her shoulders, then sprinted to the Thompson home at the far end of town. Cassidy knocked on the door, but when no one answered, she discovered Mrs. Thompson behind the house hanging laundry. She stepped away from the clothesline at Cassidy’s approach.

“Joey fell out of our tree and broke his arm. I’ve set it and put a cast on. My mother’s with him now, if you’d like to come fetch him.”

“I wondered where that boy had run off to. He’s supposed to be cleaning out the chicken coop with his brother.” With an exasperated sigh, the woman set the laundry basket aside and hurried after Cassidy.

Once Joey and his mother left, Cassidy decided to stroll through town. She pinned her reticule to the waistband of her skirt and tucked a small basket under her arm.

Across the street from the mercantile, she stopped. Bessie Mae Wilson and two other young women surrounded a tall, well-dressed man. Cassidy pursed her lips as Bessie Mae twirled her lace parasol and wiggled her bustle.

Was it Dr. Madison preening in front of more patients he aimed to steal? She’d only caught a few glimpses of the man since he’d arrived in town. He sported a thin mustache but was otherwise clean-shaven with chestnut hair on a handsome, though arrogant face, and appeared to be an outrageous flirt. She made it a point to steer clear of him whenever she could. Cassidy lifted her chin and straightened her hat. She’d seen enough of that charlatan.
She had stepped in the opposite direction when a familiar male laugh caused her to glance back. That voice had caused butterflies in her stomach many times. Bessie Mae giggled and turned in Cassidy’s direction. Peering beyond the woman, Cassidy glimpsed the man she’d thought to be Madison. No, not the doctor.  Getting a clear view, she gasped. The tall dark-haired man in gentleman’s clothing was none other than her former fiancé, George Masters.

Her urge was to turn and run as far as she could, but she froze in place. She hadn’t seen George for five years, since he’d told her he couldn’t marry her because she deserved much better than him. After that, he’d left for lord knows where, leaving his ailing, alcoholic father behind. Not that she could blame him. Amos Masters had never been a father to his sons, and George’s three older brothers had run off as soon as they were old enough. Amos had passed on several months ago, but no one could locate George, so the man was buried behind his shack without ceremony.

So, why was George here now?

Cassidy’s War available from The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_135&products_id=4729

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Cassidys-War-ebook/dp/B006VX48FS/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&qid=1326644295&sr=1-1

Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cassidys-war-susan-macatee/1108210226?ean=2940013754980&itm=1&usri=cassidy%27s+war

and All Romance Ebooks http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cassidy039swar-672840-158.html

Read opening chapters at my website http://susanmacatee.com

Stop by and say ‘hi’.

George glanced out the window, catching sight of Quinn strolling toward the hotel. Although he had to tell the man something, he’d avoid revealing his true identity. At least for now. He waited for the rap at the door, then opened it to Cassie’s brother.

“C’mon in.” George motioned him into the room, then closed the door.

Quinn settled on the one chair in the room. George sat across from him on the bed.

“So, George, what do you know about Madison?”

“Reckon I should start at the beginning.” George leaned forward. “I was living in New York City with no money but gambling earnings, when who did I meet but Colonel Wellingham. Remember him?”

“Do I!” Quinn grinned. “How’s the old man doing?”

“Well…” George spread his hands. “It seems he had a run in with Doc Madison in Philadelphia. His daughter had catarrh, and the doc examined her.”

Quinn leaned over on his elbows. “And?”

“Let’s say, the doc got a bit personal with the young lady. He took liberties and she slapped him, then ran out of the office half naked. When she told her father, he confronted Madison, but he denied the whole thing, blaming Wellingham’s daughter. Accused her of being a strumpet who accosted him.”

Quinn whistled. “What did Wellingham do?”

“He believed his daughter’s story, of course, and threatened to call in the authorities.”

Quinn nodded.

“But Madison’s father, Dr. Horace Madison, is a very wealthy and prestigious physician in Philadelphia. He apparently has a lot of politicians in his pocket, so the colonel wasn’t able to press charges against Scott Madison. He later learned the doc had left his father’s practice and disappeared. Wellingham wondered if he’d gone somewhere else until the gossip about the incident cooled down.”

“What happened to his daughter?” Quinn asked.

“She was disgraced. She quietly married a man who’d served under the colonel. They moved out west to avoid ostracism. But Wellingham heard a rumor about Scott setting up practice in a small town in Pennsylvania. He investigated and found out he was in Burkeville. Knowing I was from here, he asked for my help.”

“So, you’re here to investigate and get some new dirt on Madison.”

“I surely hope so.” George rose from the bed and paced. “I respect the colonel and want to make things right for him and his daughter, as well as getting a dangerous man out of this town, so he can’t prey on any more young women.”

Quinn grimaced. “I’ like to see him out of here, too. Cassie’s had a hard time keeping up the practice with him in town and now the Tasker deaths have added to the fire. He’s accused her of being incompetent.”

Find more info and read opening chapters at my website http://www.susanmacatee.com

Cassidy’s War available from The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_135&products_id=4729

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Cassidys-War-ebook/dp/B006VX48FS/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&qid=1326644295&sr=1-1

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and All Romance Ebooks http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cassidy039swar-672840-158.html  

In this final post on travel in the mid-nineteenth century, the subject is hotels and inns. In Cassidy’s War, the hero, George Masters, arrives in town after a long absence and stays in the local hotel. Cassidy and her brother, Quinn, travel to Philadelphia to visit medical schools and stay at a hotel on Chestnut Street near Female Medical College.

Here is quote from The American Guide-Book, “The largest hotels are always supplied with polite and efficient waiters, excellent cooks, and almost every convenience. The beds and furniture are perfect, the means of ablution are clean and neat, many of the houses now having warm and cold bathes, the tables are supplied with all the delicacies of the season and the choicest wines, and generally if the traveler sojourns any length of time he can be as comfortable as at home.”

Charges for average hotel rooms were between $1 and $2.50 per day.

Miss Leslie advises ladies traveling alone “On arriving at the hotel, ask immediately to see the proprietor; give him your name and address, tell how long you propose staying, and request him to see that you are provided with a good room. Request him also to conduct you to the dining-room at dinner-time and allot you a seat near his own.”

Many hotels had a formal parlour and lady’s drawing room. This was where guests could go to read, receive visitors or converse. Breakfast and tea were generally taken at leisure, up until 9 o’clock. After breakfast, guests were urged to retire to the drawing room so the maids could clean the rooms. Room keys could be left with the clerk or barkeeper when the patrons went out.

Dinner was always served at a set time with arranged seating. Dress for dinner shouldn’t be “…more showy than you would wear when dining at a private house.”

According to the guidebook concerning gratuities, “When you give a gratuity to a servant…give it at no regular time, but whenever you think proper, or find it convenient. It is injudicious to allow them to suppose that they are to do you no particular service without being immediately paid for it…All persons who go to hotels are not able to lavish large and frequent gratuities on the servants. But all, for the price they pay to the proprietor, are entitled to an ample share of attention from the domestics.”

Source: Anna Worden, Travel in the mid-19th century, The Citizens’ Companion, June 2009.

For more info on 19th century Philadelphia hotels with lots of great photos, visit this site: http://www.brynmawr.edu/cities/courses/05-306/proj2/jmw2b/home.html

My post is on the Battle of Elizabeth City. Hope you can join me there.

Cassidy shifted in her seat as the train chugged across the countryside. Beside her, Quinn sat reading the newspaper oblivious of the changing landscape, but she couldn’t take her gaze from the scenery passing by. She hadn’t traveled beyond town since the war. After she’d come down with quinsy throat, Pa had sent her home to recover. Since then, she hadn’t been outside of Burkeville.

When they arrived at the station, Quinn collected their bags and led her through city streets. Six years ago, in Washington, many of the streets had been unfinished, and the city resembled a vast military camp. She marveled at the tall buildings in the central part of Philadelphia, packed so close together.

Quinn dropped their baggage to the ground and hailed a coach. After hoisting Cassidy to her seat, he settled beside her. “Not like our little town.”

“No. It’s rather exciting being in a big city. I envy you attending medical school here.”

“We’ll get a hotel room near the Female Medical College. It’s on Arch Street.” He leaned over to ask the driver where he could find a room.

“I know just the place, sir,” the man assured him.

Leaning back, Quinn squeezed Cassidy’s hand. “If you’d like, we’ll arrange for a tour of the college after we settle in.”

She nodded. Glancing out the window, she focused on the trolleys, carriages, and pedestrians. The narrow streets and attached rows of brick and stone houses seemed to caress her. She wouldn’t mind living in a big city like this. And if she liked the college, perhaps she could apply.

Friday afternoon, Cassidy stood beside Quinn in the hall of the Female Medical College. A dark-haired woman escort, who introduced herself as Mrs. Simmons, motioned them to follow.

“Well, Sis, what do you think so far?”

“This is marvelous! I’d love to be a student here.”

She grasped her brother’s arm as the escort led them through classrooms and patient rooms where students learned to care for the sick and injured.

She swiveled her head left and right, trying to take in all the activity. Female physicians directed female students. No condescending male doctors in sight. The few men, who taught here, treated the women as equals.

The tour complete, Mrs. Simmons turned to them and smiled. “If you’re interested, Miss Stuart, I’ll take you to the dean’s office where you can fill out your application.”

“Oh, yes.” Cassidy’s breath caught. She’d not leave without turning in her application.

Cassidy’s War available from The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_135&products_id=4729

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Cassidys-War-ebook/dp/B006VX48FS/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&qid=1326644295&sr=1-1

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and now at All Romance Ebooks http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cassidy039swar-672840-158.html

In my new post-Civil War romance release Cassidy’s War, characters travel by train, carriage and on horseback.

Transportation advanced in the 19th century through the invention of the railroad for land travel. Also the stream engine made voyages over the sea quicker, but in the century preceding the automobile, aside from rail travel, people were still stuck with horse drawn vehicles.

The optimal way to travel long distances over land was by rail. By mid century a train could travel 20 to 30 miles per hour. When traveling by rail, rain, snow and mud were of much less concern than when traveling by carriage.

Etiquette for train travel is to, “Hold the tickets like a hand at cards, so that they may be counted…. If a train comes through, you must take seats as are vacant when it arrives, unless you have an interest with the stationmaster to secure you a carriage from the starting-place, or to have one ready to attach when the train arrives. A glove, a book, or anything left on the seat denotes that it is taken. Take yours that way.”

19th century coal fed train engines were notorious for spewing soot into the air. Miss Leslie advises a traveler to sit with their back toward the engine to avoid sparks in the eyes. Ouch!! If you do get one in your eye, her advice is: “It is possible to expel it by blowing your nose very hard, while with the other hand you wipe out the cinder with the corner of your handkerchief, pulling down the lower lid.”

Great advice, Miss Leslie! She goes on in a rather lengthy paragraph, but I think you all get the picture.

Another popular form of travel during the Victorian era was the steamboat. They were used for transatlantic trips as well as travel along lakes and rivers. The boat included social areas, dining rooms and a saloon. For sleeping, a passenger could have a shared or private stateroom, or stay in a common sleeping cabin; one for men, the other for ladies.

If using the ladies sleeping cabin, Miss Leslie suggests retiring late, so as not to spend a long night in the cabin. For optimal comfort, a stateroom if one can afford it, is the ideal. It will afford privacy for washing and dressing as well as a place to retire to.

Costs for steamship travel could range from $75 to $105 for an extra large room. Miss Leslie advises ladies traveling without a male escort to be introduced to the captain. It would then be his responsibility to see her to shore and make subsequent arrangements after her arrival.

Once a traveler has arrived on shore, arrangements for a carriage to see them the rest of the way may be necessary, unless the passengers brought their own carriage on the boat. If not, they must hire a carriage to be driven by themselves or purchase a seat in a coach.

Murrey suggests that those traveling individually should hire a carriage at every step of their visit, while groups should bring their own carriage along.

The other option is to hire a space in a coach, driven by a hired driver. But for ladies traveling alone, Miss Leslie points out that a lady could find herself traveling with “…persons of improper character and vulgar appearance.” She also suggests a lady must insist that if she hires the coach, no other passengers may be added.

For pedestrian travelers, Murrey suggests: “The shoes, or buttoned boots, ought to be double-soled, provided with hobnails, such as are worn in shooting in England, and without iron heels which are dangerous, and liable to slip in walking over rocks…”

Oh, the hazards of Victorian travel! Next ‘Monday Inspiration’ post, I’ll talk about where the Victorian traveler would lodge.

Source: Travel in the mid-19th century, Anna Worden, The Citizen’s Companion, June 2009

Links to sites on 19th century travel:

http://americanhistory.si.edu/onthemove/exhibition/exhibition_1_1.html

http://www.literary-liaisons.com/article033.html

http://www.teachushistory.org/detocqueville-visit-united-states/articles/historical-background-traveling-early-19th-century

My new post Civil War release, Cassidy’s War, is now available at All Romance Ebooks.

My Civil War Christmas romance, The Christmas Ball, will be released as an ebook from The Wild Rose Press this coming holiday season. The novella was originally part of the historical Christmas anthology, An American Rose Christmas.

Before leaving his room, George penned a hasty letter to Cassidy explaining he must leave but would be back as soon as possible. He didn’t want to divulge any more in case the letter landed in the wrong hands. He didn’t have time to hand deliver it.

He sealed the post, then splashed water on his face and shrugged into his vest and coat.

He grabbed the packed bag and thudded down the stairs, stopping at the front desk. His jaw still ached from his encounter with Madison, and he’d spent a good portion of Sunday night pacing his hotel room worrying about Cassidy.

The clerk, Mr. Stanton, glanced up as George dropped his suitcase and handed him the sealed note. “You look like you got run over by a train, Mister.”

George ran a hand over his stubble. “Reckon I feel like I have.”

The clerk leaned on the counter and eyed him. “Are you checking out, sir?”

“No. I’ll just be out of town for a few days. I hope you can hold my room until I return.”

The man nodded. “Either that room or another. We don’t see much business.”

George grinned. “Thanks. I will be back.”

“You the one had the run in with Doc Madison?” Stanton narrowed his gaze.

George scowled. “Word does get around.”

“Over Miss Stuart, wasn’t it?” The man’s salt and pepper brow arched. “Fighting over the little lady, you were.”

George detected admiration in the man’s gaze. “Maybe I didn’t like the way he touched her.”

Stanton grinned. “Well, sir, I wish you luck.” He squinted. “Folks here tell me you used to live in Burkeville.”

“A long time ago, but I left just after the war.” George handed Stanton the letter. “Could you please be sure Miss Stuart gets this?”

The man smiled. “I’ll take it to her myself.” He nodded. “Yes, sir, I’ll get this right out for you today.”

“Thank you.” George reached into his pocket extracting a few coins, thankful the clerk didn’t ask any questions.

As he turned to leave, Stanton warned, “You’d best get some rest, sir. Maybe you should get Miss Stuart to give you a look over before you leave.” He winked.

“Don’t have time. Have to catch the next train out.” George turned away.

He strode to the train station, wishing he’d had more time to explain to Cassidy. As he neared the platform, he caught sight of a well-dressed woman with chestnut hair standing by the ticket office, suitcases beside her.

Mrs. Claymore.

He stepped to her side. “Don’t tell me you’re going to Philadelphia too?”

She smirked, then her face colored. “No, Mr. Masters, I’m headed for New York. But I will be joining you in Philadelphia in a few days so I can relay your findings back to the agency…” She sighed. “You know we can’t risk—”

“I know,” he said. “Can’t risk telegraphs or the mail.” He lifted his suitcase as well as one of hers. A porter grasped the other one.

“After you, ma’am,” George said.

She nodded and preceded him into the train. He hoped to hell this wouldn’t get back to Cassidy, but knowing this town as well as he did, was sure as hell it would.

You can find more info and read opening chapters at my website http://www.susanmacatee.com

Cassidy’s War available from The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_135&products_id=4729

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Cassidys-War-ebook/dp/B006VX48FS/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&qid=1326644295&sr=1-1

and Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cassidys-war-susan-macatee/1108210226?ean=2940013754980&itm=1&usri=cassidy%27s+war

In Cassidy’s War, Cassidy and her brother, Quinn, take a train to visit Philadelphia. Of course, traveling a long distance by train required luggage.

These helpful luggage hints are from handbooks written by John Murray, who wrote A Handbook for Travellers on the Continent (1853) and Hints to Railway Travellers.

Murray writes, “On all occasions it is desirable to have as little baggage as possible.”

“Ladies should be cautioned not to encumber themselves with supernumerary cap and band boxes; even if they travel post in their own carriage, it will be less trouble and expense to buy such articles in the great towns, than to have to take an extra horse in consideration of the number of packages.”

He also suggests luggage should be clearly marked so a lady’s gentleman escort can easily retrieve it and any essential overnight articles should be kept separate. Instead of taking one heavy trunk, travelers are urged to distribute articles into small packages like portmanteaus or carpetbags.

Since carpetbags can get easily wet and one doesn’t want wet garments, handbook writer, Miss Leslie, urges ladies: “Let the bag be about half a quarter of a yard longer at the back than at the front; so as to leave a flap to turn over, and tie down, when all of the articles are in.”

Contrary to what other travel handbook writers urge about keeping luggage to a minimum a guide advising American travelers going to Europe or the East writes: “As regards to baggage, the author would say in opposition to most writers, who advise against it, don’t cramp yourself for lack of baggage; the few dollars charged for extra luggage will be more than compensated for by having every thing that you may want; and when your wardrobe has been pulled to pieces by custom-house officers, it will not require hours to repack before you can close your trunks.”

Hmmm. Sounds like those mid-19th century travelers had to deal with a lot of issues we still do today. In part two, I’ll talk about modes of 19th century travel.

From an article by Anna Worden: Travel in the mid-19th century: The Citizen’s Companion: June 2009.