— Bishop John England, 1834 letter
As Christmas approached, Joseph imagined the Conleys trying to celebrate in their shabby little room, separated forever from their parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, and homeland. How he wished he could invite the brother and sister to spend the holiday with his family. But Joseph could not justify such an offer, especially since he himself no longer resided with his parents.
Hélène saved him. During her visits with the Sisters of Mercy, she discovered where the Conleys lived. Since her home was much closer to the cathedral than their lodging, Hélène offered them a place to rest between the vigil Mass Christmas Eve and the three Masses on Christmas Day: Joseph’s old chamber, with a trundle-bed for Mr. Conley. Joseph was relieved and delighted to know the brother and sister experienced those hours of comfort and happiness.
The Conleys were two among many. Why their fate shouldmatter so much to him, Joseph did not understand. Brother and sister were devout and warm-hearted, but most of their countrymen were the same.
They were a schoolmaster’s children; they were bright; they were readers. Poor as they were, they cared about the world beyond their own quotidian concerns. Perhaps this was what elevated them above the rest of the immigrants in Charleston. And simply because you could not help everyone, it did not mean you should help no one.
Before, between, and after his duties at the cathedral, Joseph joined his family and the Conleys to play parlor games, dine, and exchange French and Irish carols. Young David heard Miss Conley sing for the first time, and he looked almost as mesmerized as Joseph. Mr. Conley had a fine voice as well, although Joseph thought Hélène’s praise of it rather effusive.
Miss Conley proved herself one of the few people who could keep little Sophie entertained.She is going to be a wonderful mother, Joseph thought. But what kind of life could she give her children? What bleak future awaited them—awaited her? Surely Miss Conley would marry another Irish immigrant, and they would always be poor.
It was useless to dream about another life in which he was white, in which he was some respected botanist, in whichhecould rescue her.
Shortly before they parted, while Joseph’s mother taught Miss Conley a new stitch, the young Irishman explained why his parents’ precious, only daughter had joined him in exile. Joseph was learning that these sorts of confidences were the privilege and burden of his Priesthood.
“Our brother Daniel works as a gardener at our landlord’s manor,” Mr. Conley told Joseph in a low voice. “Even as a child, Tessa shared Daniel’s way with plants, so sometimes she would assist him. It was a chance for Tessa to be around beautiful things, flowers we could not afford to grow ourselves. Our landlord wasn’t even there to admire his gardens most of the year—he spent months onend in England. Neither he nor his agent cared if Daniel had an assistant; they didn’t pay her.
“But one day our landlord…noticedTessa. Daniel did not need to forbid her to visit him after that; she understood what the old man’s leer meant, and she was terrified. When Tessa did not return to the manor, our landlord sought her out. We tried to keep her hidden from him, but he would demand to see her.
“Our landlord would make foul jokes, like: If we ever came up short on rent, he would gladly accept Tessa as payment. My sister would stand there trembling, and he’d be molesting her with his eyes and his suggestions, dragging the tip of his riding crop down her body. My father, my five brothers, and myself—we were utterly powerless against one old lecher. If he raised our rent, if he evicted us, we had no recourse, Father—nowhere to go.”
Joseph nearly snapped the handle from his teacup. He’d heard Irish tenants compared to slaves.
“Even Daniel couldn’t secure work elsewhere without a reference. At the manor, he’d heard terrible stories—that our landlord had forced himself on maids. And of course those women were powerless to prosecute him. What if the old man took the next step? What if he ordered Tessa to the manor? If she refused, how would he retaliate?” Mr. Conley stared down into his brandy. “Worst of all, Father, we feared she might accept.”
“Pardon?” Joseph was sure he’d misunderstood.
“We feared Tessa might sacrifice herself for the rest of us. The only way we could save her was to help her escape. Every Conley—and many of our friends—saved for months to pay for our passage.”
“Didyour landlord retaliate, when he learned you and your sister had fled?”
“We knew he might,” Mr. Conley acknowledged. Then, he chuckled. “But apparently the old man was so angry, he died of an apoplexy. Divine justice at last.”
“You could return to Ireland,” Joseph observed.
“I suppose Tessa could,” Mr. Conley mused. “I prefer America. Here, even a poor man without a college education can become a lawyer. Here, I can speak my mind without fear. Until Ireland is freeof landlords likethat—until she is free of their sons and their grandsons—I cannot remain silent.”
Miss Conley could hardly travel such a distance alone. Besides, how would she pay for another passage across the Atlantic? Once again, she was trapped.
This knowledge of Miss Conley’s sufferings accomplished in Joseph what the admonitions of his confessor had not. It shamed him into celibacy at last. He imagined Miss Conley’s terror at that old lecher’s approach, and admitted that his own attraction to her was every bit as vile. Joseph was not of her race; he was not even of her species—he was a Priest now, not a man. Miss Conley must understand that he cared for her; he’d hardly concealed it. But she could not suspect there was anything carnal in his affection, or she would not have been so receptive.
Miss Conley remained unsuccessfulin finding a position as a governess. Charleston’s parents wanted teachers with a formal education and letters of recommendation. But Miss Conley’s lack of credentials did not prevent her catechism students from adoring her.
The catechetical school shared the seminary’s building, so Joseph was able to see her more often than glimpses during Mass. When the weather was fair, Miss Conley brought her sewing to the garden. Sometimes as she worked, she would hum. Even this was exquisite, but if Joseph was very lucky, she would sing quietly to herself. He would listen as he tended the plants. He could read the prayers in his breviary only after she departed.
As spring approached and the Biblical garden began to show signs of life, other parishioners visited more and more. There were only three benches, so Joseph learned to leave his tools on Miss Conley’s favorite one till she appeared.
One morning when the garden was nearly empty, Joseph brought over his class of students from the minor seminary to explain about pomegranates being the forbidden fruit. The boys spotted Miss Conley sitting alone on her bench.
One of them pointed. “It’s Eve!”
“No it isn’t,” another boy argued. “Were you even listening to Father Lazare? Eve wasnaked!”
Which set off an outbreak of sniggers that infected even Miss Conley and Joseph, before he composed himself and scolded his students.
A month-long illnesshad prevented Bishop England from embarking on the second Haitian mission. Instead, he sent his coadjutor, Bishop Clancy, who made little progress on the island. That spring of 1836, Bishop England would return to Haiti himself.
