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A Love Such as Heaven Intended

By Amanda Lauer

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Chapter I
Friday, May 20, 1864
Washington, D.C.



Josephine tugged at her starched white collar. If I have to listen to one more speech, I think I shall scream. She surreptitiously glanced around to see if the other young ladies seated near her were as uncomfortable as she was. They sat straight backed, hands folded demurely in their laps with only a drop of sweat rolling down a temple here or there testifying to the stifling late-afternoon heat in the auditorium.
How they appeared so nonplussed was a wonder. All the graduates wore similar white muslin day dresses which, in and of themselves, were not overly warm, but the hoops and layers of undergarments made them unbearable.
Miss Amelia White, the director of Georgetown Academy for Young Ladies, walked onto the stage, picked up a sheet of paper from the podium and began her introduction of the ceremony’s keynote speaker.
“It is my pleasure to introduce to you Miss Louisa May Alcott,” said Miss White, looking first at the young ladies in the front rows and then at their parents seated behind them. An uncharacteristic smile came to her lips. She extended the paper to arm’s length to read her notes. “Miss Alcott is a distinguished novelist, raised in New England, who took up writing at an early age to help support her family when they suffered financial distress.”
Miss Alcott had made a prudent choice, Josephine observed. The woman, who was standing on the far side of the stage, was dressed to the nines from the top of her feathered bonnet to the tip of her black satin and leather lace-up Balmoral boots. Layers of matching ruffles adorned her exquisitely tailored peach silk dress and day bodice. The gossamer sleeves capped the ensemble nicely and were undoubtedly cooler than what the girls wore.
“Miss Alcott is an avowed abolitionist and considers herself a” — Miss White scrunched her eyes — “feminist.”
Josephine’s ears perked up. She and her classmates knew of the abolitionist movement. It was quite trendy in the city to show concern about the plight of the Negro. The word feminist was unfamiliar but sounded intriguing to Josephine. The warmth of the room faded as she focused more closely on Miss White’s words.
The older woman’s brows furrowed briefly before she continued. “In 1860, Miss Alcott began writing for the Atlantic Monthly. Two years later, she served as a nurse in the Union Hospital here in Georgetown for six weeks. Her letters home were published in Commonwealth, Boston’s anti-slavery newspaper. In 1863, the letters were compiled into a book titled Hospital Sketches. In the tome, Miss Alcott describes the mismanagement of hospitals and the indifference and callousness of some of the surgeons she encountered. She received critical acclaim for her observations and humor. Currently, Miss Alcott is writing a book, with the working title Moods, about a ‘true-hearted abolitionist spinster.’” Miss White’s eyebrows raised. She glanced out and concluded. “May I introduce to you, Miss Louisa May Alcott.”
The crowd politely clapped as the writer stepped to the podium. After thanking Miss White and Georgetown Academy for Young Ladies for their gracious invitation to address the class of 1864, she paused and scanned the group of young ladies before her and then articulated her first statement. “We all have our own life to pursue, our own kind of dream to be weaving, and we all have the power to make wishes come true, as long as we keep believing.” She allowed a moment to pass for her words to sink in.
Josephine’s breath caught in her throat. She gripped the wooden seat of her chair and leaned slightly forward. Do women have dreams other than marriage and children?
The writer left that to be considered and began the tale of her childhood and early years, including her education at the feet of naturalist Henry David Thoreau and instruction from educators and writers Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Margaret Fuller and Julia Ward Howe.
The eloquent and engaging presentation kept Josephine spellbound. She listened as Miss Alcott described how, in 1847, she and her family served as station masters on the Underground Railroad, housing a fugitive slave. Through that she met Frederick Douglass, the escaped slave who was now one of the leaders of the abolitionist movement and the author of Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave.
“He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak,” said Miss Alcott with authority. “Strong convictions precede great actions.”
Josephine sucked in her breath and clasped her hands in front of her in excitement. She turned to scan the faces of the three dozen girls in her class to see their reactions. Some gave a slight nod in agreement but most seemed ambivalent. Aren’t they listening?
Josephine faced forward again. A seed was planted in her brain. I, Josephine Katherine Bigelow, will make an impact on this world! She would not fade away into anonymity, living the life of a lowly homemaker and socialite.
The term “women’s suffrage” penetrated her thoughts. Josephine brought her attention back to Miss Alcott.
“When it becomes legal for women to vote, I intend to be the first female in my province to register,” she said. “Let my name stand among those who are willing to bear ridicule and reproach for the truth’s sake, and so earn some right to rejoice when the victory is won.” Gasps were heard throughout the auditorium.
As the speech went on, Josephine’s excitement grew. Miss Alcott delivered her concluding line with gusto. “Far away, there in the sunshine, are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.”
Josephine was first on her feet when the ovation began. She had never felt so inspired in her life. Miss Alcott ascribed to the philosophy of political, economic and social equality between the sexes. Having the boldness to campaign for equal rights for women, of any race, was simply scandalous — but utterly intriguing.
I shall henceforth be known as a feminist! It was quite outrageous and she knew that her stodgy father, Brigadier General Matthias Bigelow, would disapprove. If he’d said it once, he’d said it a hundred times: “Just as they say about children in the company of adults, women should be seen and not heard when it comes to matters of the state.”
As for her mother, Jacqueline Johnson Bigelow, she, likely had no clue what a feminist was but, regardless, would support her only daughter in her endeavors, as she always did. Josephine could do no wrong in her eyes.
After acknowledging the applause, Miss Alcott took her leave and Miss White stepped back to the podium and welcomed Archbishop Martin John Spalding to the stage. Dispensing the diplomas to the graduates of Georgetown Academy for Ladies was one of his first duties as archbishop, having been promoted from coadjutor bishop of Louisville to the seventh Archbishop of Baltimore just three weeks earlier.
Eventually the ceremony came to a conclusion. The girls congratulated one another, hugged, grabbed their friends’ hands and shed a few tears as the realization hit them that, after four years, this was the last time they would be together as a group.
Gradually, the graduates and their families filed from the building toward the tables set up under the shade of the massive oak trees on the lawn. Plates of ham and chicken, bowls of beans, carrots and potato salad, mounds of biscuits, and pitchers of lemonade awaited their arrival.
Josephine was assigned to sit with her father, mother and older brother, Hubert, for the meal. Before they took their seats, her mother gathered the four of them together and pulled a wrapped gift from her reticule. “Josephine, your father and I have something for you. Congratulations on your graduation, dear.” She handed the box to her daughter.
Delight overwhelmed Josephine. For weeks she had dropped hints about a particular item that she hoped to own one day. The box seemed to be the appropriate size to hold such a gift.
“Congratulations, Josephine,” echoed her father and brother as she carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the paper from the box. She lifted the lid and spotted a cameo brooch. Carved from copper-colored agate, it depicted the profile of a Greek goddess. The woman wore a miniature necklace with a tiny diamond set into the center of the pendant. It was so beautiful, it rivaled the brooch that Miss Alcott wore.
“Oh, Mother, Father. It’s stunning! Thank you so much!” Josephine scooped the trinket from the silk lining of the wooden box and inspected it closer. “I will always treasure this.”
“As we will you, my love,” said her mother. Josephine hugged each member of her family and then pinned the brooch onto the linen bodice of her dress. She beamed while she chatted and laughed with her friends and their families as they enjoyed their repast.
When everyone had their fill, the servants stepped forward to clear the tables and the families started to take their leave. Another round of weeping ensued as the girls made their final goodbyes.
In actuality, their separation would be brief as friends were already making plans to get together over the weekend. Josephine was the organizer in her group and invited her five dearest friends to a picnic lunch Saturday at the Georgetown waterfront park situated on the Potomac River.
Even with all the commotion going on and the plans running through her head for the next day, Josephine’s mind kept returning to Miss Alcott’s speech. She intended to give the writer’s words more serious consideration later, when she could finally hear herself think.

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