“If they did know, the spiritual torment would be greater than any fire. So theymustbe ignorant of Heaven.”
“But they cannot be ignorant only of Heaven, only of their separation from God!” Tessa cried. “If Bridget and Conlaed knew how muchIlove them, that I think about them and miss them every day, they would grieve as much as I do; they would be suffering! That means—” She could scarcely breathe through her tears. “Do they even know they are sister and brother?”
He had meant to comfort her. Joseph clasped her gloved hand, and she stilled, waiting desperately for his response. “Just as truth is hidden from them, it is hidden from us as well, while we are on Earth. We know only in part; ‘we see through a glass, darkly.’ Our mortal minds cannot fathom the miracles of God. I am certain that in some way we cannot yet understand, Bridget and Conlaed know they belong together, and they know how much you love them, without yearning for more.”
Less than a fortnightafter Tessa’s second miscarriage, Hell came to Charleston. The clanging of fire bells interrupted Joseph’s evening prayers. Soon the streets of their beautiful city teemed with chaos: the shrieking of families in flight; the bellowing of fire masters through their speaking-trumpets; the creak and crash of collapsing buildings; the boom of explosions as the firemenprostrated structures purposefully to create fire-breaks; the crackle and roar of the ravenous flames.
Joseph was called to the very edge of the disaster, to hear the last Confession of a horribly mangled fireman. The stench of scorched flesh clung to Joseph’s clothes. In the unnaturally lit darkness, as more companies of slaves and volunteers tramped past him with their gleaming engines, Joseph imagined Liam amongst them, straining to save his adopted city.
Before dawn, the firemen had not only exhausted their gunpowder but also drained the wells and cisterns dry. A fierce wind carried great black clouds over their heads and threw down ember after ember, setting new houses and shops ablaze. The fires raged down King Street, Meeting, Anson, Wentworth, and Market. They devoured St. Mary’s, the Synagogue, and two Protestant churches. They laid waste to more than a thousand buildings, almost a third of Charleston.
While Joseph’s father aided the injured, his sister, mother, and grandmother watched in terror as the conflagration swallowed their neighbors’ houses. Liam, his fellow firemen, and God’s mercy prevented the flames from crossing Archdale Street. But before the fires burned themselves out, Liam’s own dwelling became a smoking ruin.
Joseph witnessed the Irishman’s reunion with Hélène, who wept with relief and kissed her intended repeatedly in spite of the soot on his face. “Oh Liam, I was so worried! We can tell Mama and Grandmama about us now, don’t you think? You saved our house!”
Liam smiled. “After last night, I can face anything—even your mother and grandmother.”
While they were not enthusiastic, Joseph detected relief that Hélène finally had a sweetheart.
‘You’ll have grandchildren who aren’t a thousand miles away, Mama!’ his sister pointed out.
The older women were impressed by how many signs Liam had learned, and they were placated by the knowledge that the marriage would be deferred at least until he completed his law apprenticeship.
Most of Charleston had nothing to celebrate. Throughout those long days following the fire, Joseph offered blessings and prayers for the thousands rendered homeless. The seminary became a temporary shelter and hospital. In the room where most of the desks were stacked, he found Tessa scraping lint for wound dressings.
Before she looked up, she asked: “Were you able to see him?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, good evening, Father,” Tessa smiled. “I thought you were Hannah.” She explained: “Whenever I go out, Edward insists I take Hannah with me, so I let her see her son—ifhismaster allows it.”
Joseph had thought he’d sensed a loyalty in the negress that went beyond mere duty. Though Hannah was a staunch Baptist, she seemed to have no other faults.
“Were you looking for Hélène, Father?”
“I’ve just come from her. She said there was a basket of cloths that could be torn into bandages?”
Tessa nodded and motioned under one of the desks.
Joseph retrieved the basket and sat down across from her, glad to be off his feet. “How is Liam settling in?”
“’Tis good to have him under the same roof again. I have missed his company. But—” Tessa broke off.
“But…?” Joseph prompted.
“I know Edward resents the arrangement. The fact that I didn’t ask his permission first. The time I spend with my brother when both of them are home.” Her voice was a murmur, a reluctant admission. “Whenever Liam and I converse, Edward will sit nearby and pretend to read, but I know he’s listening.”
Joseph frowned. For a minute, he only tore bandages without speaking. Then he rose to turn up the lamp wick. At last, he voiced a suspicion that had haunted him for months: “Tessa, has Edward ever…struck you?”
“Of course not.” But even as Joseph resumed his seat, she kept her gaze averted and added in a whisper: “He has other ways.” Before Joseph could ask for more, she continued: “Have you heardthey’re planning a benefit concert for victims of the fire? They need people for the program, and Liam and Ellie thought I should sing.”
Joseph smiled. “You will be the favorite of the evening.”
“Edward has forbidden it,” Tessa muttered. “He says only fallen women sing in public or for profit. ButIwouldn’t be profiting!” She gestured to the half-open door.
Beyond this little room, family after family huddled with nothing but the clothes on their backs, exhausted by the ordeal that had only just begun.
Tessa bent her head again, pulling away more lint. Her words came slowly at first, then more forcefully, like a flood finally breaking through a dam. “He’s never said those words to me before: ‘Iforbidit.’But I always know when he’s displeased; he never conceals it. Edward will scowl and say things like: ‘I’d rather you didn’t, Tessie.’ If I do the thing anyway, he’ll sulk for days, until I beg his forgiveness. I know very well what I’ll face tonight. When he returns home, he expects me to greet him. But I cannot sit around painting flowers while my fellow creatures are suffering! He’d keep me from Mass if he could. He thinks I overtax myself merely by leaving the house, that ’tis my carelessness which…” Her eyes dropped to her flat bodice, and her hands stilled.
