All the World’s a Stage

 

Author: Gretchen

Email: gf3@nyu.edu

Rated G

Summary:  The story of how Adam met the actor Edwin Booth and their journey to San Francisco after Adam’s college days.

 

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November 1875

 

Adam and his family sat in the right proscenium box in the ornate, neo-classical styled Fifth Avenue Theatre to watch Edwin Booth’s sensational portrayal of Richard III.  Adam was always impressed with his friend’s transformation on stage. For Richard, Edwin held his body slumped and gnarled as a pretzel.  His ornate costume was padded at the shoulder making him appear hunchbacked. He had grown his hair to shoulder length and sneered menacingly.  His movements were panther-like, his soliloquies delivered most fearsomely in a whisper.  

 

In the last act, in the heat of battle, he called out.

 

King Richard:
A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

Catesby:
Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.

King Richard:
Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.
I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

 

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After the performance, they went backstage to Edwin’s dressing room.  The actor sat unaffected in front of the mirror in a red brocade robe with a golden sash, his face covered in cream.  A glass of champagne was on the table.

 

“It was wonderful, as always, Edwin,” Sara said, placing her hands on his shoulders.  He continued to wipe the cream and makeup from his face.  She leaned down to kiss his head.  “Richard is a terrible character but you do bring him to life so deliciously.”

 

“Thank you, my dear,” he answered.  He took her hand and kissed it.  “Now, Adam, pour some champagne for everyone.  You may have one glass and then you must leave.  I’ll see you next door at the hotel.  I’ve reserved a private dining room for us.  I’ll be there as soon as I’ve changed.”

 

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“How is it you two met?” Joe asked. 

 

“It was after this very same play,” Edwin said smiling, “in Boston in 1849.”  Adam grinned and nodded.  “I was Tressel in my father’s Richard III that afternoon. It was a rather inauspicious beginning to my career.”

 

“How is that?” Joe wondered.

 

“I had no lines, Joe.”

 

“But, as I recall, you stood out in your red stockings and long hair,” Adam teased. “You certainly caught my Cousin Alice’s eye.  And when you appeared again in the last act as a soldier, I have to admit, you died well.”

 

“Yes, but my real role that day was to keep my father in check.”

 

“That’s the where and when,” Sara said.  “But the how is still unsaid.”

 

“Ah, for that we need to introduce some more players in our cast,” Edwin said in a low voice.

 

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September 1849

 

A loud knocking at the front door disturbed the peace of Adam’s Saturday morning. His grandfather, Abel Stoddard, was at the chandlery and Mrs. MacVie was shopping. Adam sat in the parlor reading and taking notes for his advanced geology class. He rose slowly and answered the door. There stood his cousin, Jack, and Jack’s sister Alice.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop and come with us,” Jack said. “We’re off to the theater.”

“But I can’t afford….I’ve got to read,” Adam stammered.

“Alice’s friend, Bonnie, is sick and we’ve got an extra ticket. You can’t disappoint little Alice,” Jack said with his arm draped across his fifteen year old sister’s shoulders.

Alice smiled sweetly and nodded. “It’s Shakespeare, Adam. Richard III with Junius Booth. You shouldn’t miss Shakespeare.”

His resolve to study broken, Adam’s lips slowly turned up into a crooked grin. He wrote a short note and left it on his grandfather’s chair. Then he grabbed his hat and jacket and left with his cousins to go to the theater.

Junius Brutus Booth was one of the most famous actors in all of America. It was a much anticipated event when his company came to any city, but Boston and New York were favored with appearances often for the simple fact that they were so very lucrative. Richard III was a role Junius Booth wore as comfortably as an old coat. He’d made his name in his native England with the role and now thirty years later he was touring again as Richard. His middle son, Edwin, at sixteen, was touring with his father. He was his father’s aide and dresser and, at his mother’s insistence, his father’s minder.

The cousins settled into their orchestra seats and were transported to the War of the Roses and Bosworth Battlefield for the afternoon. At the final curtain call Junius Booth brought a young man with him to the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, this afternoon I have the pleasure of introducing my son, Edwin, on this the occasion of his first stage debut. I hope that you join with me in welcoming him to the acting profession.” The boy blushed and Junius Booth tousled his son’s long curls and then threw his arm around the boy’s slim shoulders.

They exited the theater and Jack led them to a tavern near by for a quick meal. Sitting alone at a table sat a thin, young man with dark black curls spilling over his forehead. Jack made his way to the table.

“Mind if we join you? There aren’t three seats together anywhere else.”

The young man wiped his mouth with his napkin. He smiled shyly. He held his hand out to shake Jack’s, “Edwin Booth, please join me.” Jack shook his hand and introduced himself and Adam and Alice.

Alice blushed as she met Edwin Booth’s dark, hooded eyes. Adam helped her with her cape and pulled the chair out for her. “You were on the stage, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Did the greasepaint on my collar give me away? I was on stage, but my role is of no consequence, how….” It was Edwin’s turn to blush. “The curtain call…what an embarrassment.” Jack winked at Adam and turned his attention to the menu.

“May I buy you a celebratory drink, Mr. Booth?”

“Thank you, a ginger beer.”

Jack raised his eyebrow at the order but when the waitress came he asked for two ginger beers and two ales. “I wouldn’t have taken an actor for a teetotaler.”

“I’ve got an evening performance.” Edwin’s attention was drawn to the doorway as his father entered. The elder Booth, still in costume, made his way to the bar and called out for a brandy. He downed the drink in one gulp and quickly ordered another. “I’m sorry. If you please, I should attend to my father. Thank you for the company and the drink.”

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Adam went away awestruck by what he had seen that day. He heard Junius Booth’s sonorous voice in his mind's ear for days afterwards. He had read Richard III but the play had somehow come to life that afternoon. When he walked home from his cousins’ house that night he vowed he would train his voice to deepen and resonate to sound as rich as the actor’s. He would lose his accent and be more precise in his speech.

He was not the only one moved by the performance, although it was not the elder Booth who affected Alice. Over and over she recalled the short encounter with young Edwin Booth. His shy smile, the slim face, the curls at his temples and his hands! He had taken her hand in his when Jack introduced them to each other. Alice sent a note to Adam on Wednesday. She invited him to the Saturday matinee performance. This time their seats were in the rear balcony of the Boston Museum Theater, in the last row. “It’s all I could afford. Last week’s tickets were a birthday gift from Jack. I spent the last of my allowance on these.”

Adam reassured her. “I’m certain it will still be wonderful. We’ll watch from another perspective, that’s all.” He settled back and enjoyed the afternoon. Alice sat forward in her seat and trained her borrowed opera glasses on a certain silent minor character carrying a spear in the last act. After the curtain calls, Alice tapped Adam on the arm. “Do you think Edwin will join us? I wrote to him to ask him if he might meet us at the stagedoor.”

“Is that what this is about?” Adam asked. “What would your father say? And worse, what would your mother say?”

“Whatever do you mean, Adam?” She smiled demurely. “I’ve got a proper escort, haven’t I?” He rolled his eyes and sighed. She took his arm and headed in the direction of the stagedoor.

Edwin exited the stage door and looked around for Alice and Adam. He caught sight of Adam and waved. “Adam, thank you for the invitation to supper.” Adam met Alice’s look with a momentary frown. Edwin noted Adam’s reaction and bowed slightly to Alice. “How did you enjoy the performance, Miss Stoddard?”

“Your father is just a national treasure. Why I have learned so much about Shakespeare in two performances than whole semesters at school,” Alice gushed. She opened her handbag and gave Edwin an envelope. “I saved this for you. It’s my playbill from last week. Your first performance on stage! You should keep it as a souvenir.”

“Thank you, how very thoughtful of you, I sent a copy to my mother but now I can start my own scrapbook.” He smiled warmly. “I will admit that Father was not so pleased. He didn’t know I would be on stage.”

“But his speech,” Alice said, “he made a fuss at the curtain call.”

“That was pure acting, Miss Stoddard,” Edwin said with a smile. “He was furious because the prompter gave me his costume and allowed me to go on stage in his stead. I must admit it was thrilling.”

Adam led the pair to a tearoom in a nearby hotel. Alice looked at the menu and had Adam order sandwiches and cakes for the table. Edwin grinned at the food as he filled his plate. “I don’t often eat in such genteel surroundings and with such beautiful company, Miss Stoddard. Thank you.”

Feeling every bit the third wheel, Adam sipped his tea while Edwin and Alice talked. “I have always wanted to go West. Someday, I’m bound for California,” Edwin said. “Have you been there, Adam?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, yes,” Adam answered. “I’ve been to Sacramento and San Francisco.”

“Have you mined for gold?”

“No, my family has a ranch in the Nevada territory."

“The Booths have a farm in Maryland. It is my father’s real love.”

“A farm and not the stage?” Alice asked.

“My father is a consummate actor. He gives his all to his performances, but in truth they wear him down. He suffers from his nerves. I’m sorry to say that you witnessed last week how he doses himself with brandy. He misses our family terribly. It is the simple life on the farm that rejuvenates him.”

“And you, Edwin?” Alice asked.

“It’s the actor’s life for me," he answered grinning. "I think I was born to tread the boards. At least, I hope so. Father apprenticed me to a cabinetmaker a few years ago. I hated every minute!” He looked at the clock and took a final sip of tea. “I must be back at the theater. My father will need me to prepare him for the evening performance. Perhaps you could stand just one more performance before we move on to Hartford. I can arrange for the two of you to watch it from backstage next Saturday.”

“Oh Adam, do you think you could escort me just one more time?” He nodded. “Thank you!”

 

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“Poor Alice had quite a crush on you, Edwin,” Sara said.  “Amy is the same age as Alice was when you met her.  That unsettles me.”

 

“As it would unsettle me, as well, Sara. Winna is the same age,” Edwin said.  “But I assure you that nothing untoward happened with Alice. Her school girl’s crush ended in the twinkling of an eye.  The company left Boston to continue our tour and absence did not make her heart grow fonder.”

 

“Alice was sick with a cold the next weekend,” Adam explained. “I went to the theater alone and watched the performance from backstage.  Edwin showed me the stagecraft, how they created the scenery, make up, it was fascinating.  He even dressed me as a soldier for the battle. I made my stage debut that day,” Adam chuckled. “Uncredited, of course.”

 

“Does Pa know about that?” Joe asked.

 

“Not at all,” Adam said.  “As far as he knows I was a sober Harvard undergraduate, with my nose in my books when I wasn’t in class.” Adam tugged at his ear. 

 

“We were fast friends from that day to this,” Edwin said.  “Whenever the Booth Acting Company came to Boston, we got together.”

 

“And Alice?” Sara asked.

 

“By the next season, she had a real beau,” Adam said.

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September 1851

In the intervening two years Edwin had grown to his full height of five feet, eight inches. His slight, dark looks, thin face, and flowing locks gave him a romantic air, contrasting his father Junius’ taller, muscular build. After his debut two years earlier, his father began to allow him to act in small roles, first as courtiers, then graduating to Rosencrantz and finally to supporting roles like Banquo to his father’s Macbeth and Cassio to his father’s Iago in Othello. The elder Booth played his characters larger than life, in a bold, confident voice. His demeanor was big and bold on stage and off. The youthful Edwin was athletic and romantic. He could fence and flirt with equal talent. Even at eighteen he was beginning to have a following, to his father’s dismay.

Edwin's role as his father’s minder was less successful. Junius Booth was still the country’s leading tragedian when he performed, but he was increasingly unreliable. He drank to excess, as most actors in the troupe did. Long periods away from home provoked bouts of melancholia. More and more his moods would swing erratically. He drank while manic and entertained his fellow drinkers for hours with wild tales of his career, “the last act”, he called it. At other times, when he was low, he would lock himself in his room, refusing even Edwin’s pleas to enter. It was one such night the previous spring, in April, that Edwin made his debut as Richard III in New York.

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“Father, please, we must leave for the theater,” Edwin pleaded.

“I will not,” Junius roared from behind the locked door. “My nerves have the better of me.”

“Father, there is no one else to take the role. You must come with me. I beg you. The play can not go on without you.”

“Is that so? You know the lines. You’ve run them with me scores of times. Go act it yourself.”

“Father, please. Don’t be ridiculous.” Edwin placed his palm against the door and sighed. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Please, Father, it’s you they want to see.”

“Go!” Junius snarled. “Go on then, you cursed little whelp. You want to be an actor. Be an actor!”

And so it was that an anxious young Edwin Booth, with little preparation, draped in his father’s costume, several sizes too large, stepped on to the stage with the curtain down. He adjusted the costume and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then he twisted his body into a hunchback posture and nodded for the curtain to rise.

“Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York”

At the end of that most famous soliloquy, he relaxed slightly. His greatest fear, that he would be chased from the stage, had not occurred. He gained confidence as the play proceeded. He lacked his father’s deep, sonorous voice and his fully realized character of Richard, but he somehow had survived this baptism by fire.

The audience applauded at the curtain call and the National Theater’s manager stepped forward to reveal the unidentified actor’s name. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce the son of our indisposed leading actor, Junius Booth. This is Edwin Booth, a worthy scion of that most noble of acting stock.”

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The Booth Acting Company was booked for a month’s stay in Boston and Adam and his friend, Edwin Booth, were catching up.  They stood in the window of the upstairs office of Captain Stoddard’s chandlery.   The view of the busy harbor was one Adam loved, jammed with ships, loading and off-loading, coming in from faraway places and headed out to open waters.  So many possibilities!

 

Edwin was just finishing the story of his debut in the role of Richard III. “I tell you, Adam, I was quaking through much of it. And dressed in tights! I was afraid the audience could see my knees shaking.”

Adam put his hand on Edwin’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“And when I returned to the hotel, he was lying on the divan, his hand on his forehead, his eyes closed. He sighed with indifference when he asked how it had gone as if I’d gone on an errand to buy him brandy. He was furious when the newspapers noted my performance the next day."

 

“Fathers,” Adam said under his breath.  “I can never please mine.”

 

“How can you say that, Adam?”  Edwin asked. “You’re here at Harvard.  Your father is thousands of miles from here.  You’re far removed from any disapproval.”

 

“The power of a father’s authority knows no boundaries, my friend,” Adam said shaking his head.  “Even in the few letters that have reached here I can feel his influence.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well, there is no question that he is expecting me to return to the Ponderosa, despite how I feel.”

 

“And how is that?”

 

“I don’t know, Edwin,” Adam said, shrugging his shoulders.  “Some days I miss home so badly, I just ache to the bottom of my soul.” He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. “But then I look at that scene and I yearn to explore the world. Last year I read Emerson in philosophy class. He advises his readers to dream large and ‘Hitch your wagon to a star’.  I wrote to Pa about the inspiration I got from the advice.  I shared with him the dreams and ambitions I have.   Months later I got a letter from him that I would spend my time in college more productively if I kept my nose to the grindstone.”

 

Edwin nodded in sympathy. 

 

“Am I not giving myself a chance to know the world?  When I look out over the harbor, I try to imagine what lies beyond it.  I want to travel to the ends of the earth, to have big adventures, to do great things.  Am I failing my father or myself when I think like that?  Will I wake up one day and realize I’ve missed my chance to explore?  I don’t want to be in my thirties and feel this restless.”

 

“I don’t want to live in my father’s shadow,” Edwin said softly.  “I don’t want to be the great Junius Booth’s replica.  I want to earn my own reputation as an actor.  Not my father’s, nor my brother’s.”

 

“I understand,” Adam said.

 

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Sara took Edwin’s hand in hers as he continued the story.  “I’m glad that you and Adam have remained friends.”

 

“Indeed, so am I.  Adam has always been a good and true friend, especially when I traveled west to California for that last tour with my father.” Edwin paused a moment to gather his thoughts.  “It was a very low time for me. Adam was very gracious. Poor Father, he tried his best but his nerves finally undid him. Great minds to madness closely are allied.”   Left unsaid was a mention of the fame that Edwin had earned as the country’s most admired tragedian in the intervening years and the infamy his younger brother John Wilkes had rained down on the family.

 

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June 1852

Among the graduates of Harvard University in June of 1852 was Adam Cartwright. He marched between Elisha Canfield and Joseph Choate. The world would later know his classmates, Horatio Alger, the author of rags-to-riches morality tales for young readers, the legal scholar and Harvard law professor, James B. Thayer, and William Robert Ware, engineer and the first professor of architecture at MIT. Among the rest of the graduates were future lawyers, doctors, businessmen, and officers who fought on both sides of the War, destined to die on battlefields in Pennsylvania and Virginia.

Even if Adam had the money to travel by train to Chicago or St. Louis to shorten the length of his journey home, it was getting too late in the season to leave for Nevada by land. It had taken five months to travel to Boston for college. Surely the mountains would be socked in with snow by the time he reached the ranch. Adam’s grandfather, Abel Stoddard, used his connections to arrange for him to work for his passage aboard a paddle steamship to Panama. He would cross the isthmus by canoe and mule and board another ship to San Francisco. He would get to California in an unimaginable forty-seven days! Working long days, doing whatever was needed – shoveling coal, peeling potatoes, swabbing decks – would save him the $250 passage fee and get him home by mid-August.

The ship’s journey began in Boston, following a broken voyage route, with stops in New York, Charleston, and down the coast to take on passengers and supplies. The final stop in the United States was New Orleans. From there they would head to Havana and finally to the Chagres River in Panama.

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The Senator docked at Pier 3 in New York on June 21, 1852. Adam was stunned to see the ships so chockablock in the harbor. Captain Davis assigned him to assist the passengers with their luggage. He and his shipmate were struggling with an enormous trunk when he heard a familiar voice bellowing to get their attention.

“Mind that you boys are careful with our luggage,” Junius Booth shouted. “It’s irreplaceable.”

Adam stood and saw the famous actor and his son approaching.

“My word, Adam Cartwright, is that you?” Edwin asked. “You’re on this voyage?”

“Mister Booth,” Adam said holding his hand out to greet Edwin’s father. “Do you want your trunk stored or in your cabin?”

“Well, Adam, my boy, this is how you are using your Harvard education?” Junius Booth teased.

“I’m working my way back home, sir.”

“If I’d known that, I would have spared myself Edwin’s fare and put him to work with you,” the famous actor continued. Edwin stood beside his father and rolled his eyes. “We are engaged to appear on tour of California with my eldest, Junius, Junior. He assures us it will be advantageous.”

“I hope so, sir,” Adam said tipping his hat.

“Cabin, Adam. Put the trunk in our cabin. We may just take the opportunity to entertain our fellow passengers some evening.” With that the elder Booth turned to climb the ramp to the ship, Edwin shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

 

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The life at sea that Adam had always imagined was aboard a schooner, with sails unfurled on the open water, heading for adventure.  The crew was ever present on deck.   They breathed the salt water and the wind was in their hair.  But life for Adam, a temporary crew member aboard the steamship Senator, was in direct contrast.  He spent much of his time below deck tending to whatever tasks the captain deemed necessary.

 

The task that Adam dreaded most was stoking the boilers with coal to power the paddlewheels.  It was brutal work. A team of men worked together in the ghostly stokehole shoveling coal into the furnace in a macabre rhythm.  They bent and fed the furnace in one long action. The furnace door clanged as it slammed shut.  The roar of the fire filled their ears.  Shirtless, his body blackened with the coal dust, his nose and eyes filled with the same, Adam’s muscles strained and rivulets of dirty sweat streamed down his back.  It was the hardest work he had ever done.  He reckoned that mucking out stalls would be a pleasure after stoking a steam engine.

 

After midnight, when his shift was over, Adam washed away as much of the coal dust as he could and changed his clothes.  He slowly climbed the stairs and stepped onto the deck.  The ship was off the coast of Georgia and the evening air was warm.  He looked around to see if anyone was watching.  Satisfied that he was alone, he sat in a deck chair and sighed.  Leaning back he gazed at the stars when someone approached him.

 

“Too pretty out tonight to sleep,” Edwin said.  “Mind if I join you?”  In the moonlight, Edwin saw Adam nod.  “I haven’t seen you since New York.”

 

“I’ve been below the deck earning my keep.  I’ll be helping with the luggage in Savannah tomorrow.”  He tugged at his right ear.  “The captain likes my way with the women passengers.   Makes ‘em feel better about traveling, he thinks.” 

 

A voice came from the shadows.  “You boys want some company?”  It was Caroline Chapman, an actress traveling with the Booths. 

 

“Miss Chapman,” Adam said as he began to stand.  “Please, sit here.” 

 

“No, you sit.  You’re Edwin’s friend.  He told me about you.  Adam…..Adam, something.”

 

“Adam Cartwright, ma’am,” he answered. 

 

“Yes, well, Edwin said that you are working your way home.  You’re the one who has earned a rest this evening.”  She waved her fan.  “I’m only out to get some air.  It’s warm in my cabin.”

 

“I could get you a drink of water,” Edwin offered. 

 

She shook her head.  Then she took Edwin’s hand in hers.  “What a beautiful hand, such long fingers.  It shows that you are creative and sensitive. And moody sometimes, yes?”  She examined the palm in the moonlight.  “Ahh, you’ll have a long life Edwin.”

 

“You think so, Caroline.  We might meet up with a gang of desperados in California.”

 

“No, my sweet boy,” she traced a line in his hand.  “Now, this is your life line. It is long.  But this is your heart line, and it is broken in several spots.  I’m afraid you’re in for some trouble there,” she laughed softly.  “Oh, you have a fate line, not everyone does.  See where it breaks and changes direction.  Other people and external forces will affect in your life strongly. Still, it is a good hand for an actor.”  She let go of Edwin’s hand.  “Let me see yours, Adam.”

 

He smiled shyly as she took his hand.  “Oh dear, you have a blister on the heel of your hand.”  She reached in her pocket and pulled out a key.  “Edwin, please go and get some balm from the table in my room and fetch a handkerchief as well.”  He took the key and left for her errand.  “I think that you are not as receptive to this, Adam.”

 

He shrugged.  “I’m more down-to-earth, I guess.”

 

“Oh I think not, I think that you can be quite romantic at times,” she said shaking her head. “Let me see.  You have a long life line as well.”  Edwin soon returned as she continued. “See here, Adam, you have a deep and long head line, meaning that you are focused and serious. Your heart line is wavy before it straightens. I am afraid that you will fall in love and be disappointed several times before you find a lasting love.” He winced as she squeezed his hand in sympathy.  “Now let me treat that blister.”

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The next morning the Senator sailed into Savannah’s harbor to take on more passengers. Caroline Chapman had a word with Captain Davis and Adam soon appeared on deck in a clean white shirt, crisp navy trousers and a navy cap ready to assist the new passengers. Adam caught her eye as she watched him from the top deck railing. He doffed his cap at her and smiled. He helped the first class passengers settle into their cabins and directed the second class and steerage passengers to their accommodations. The decks were strewn with trunks and crates, rifle cases, camp stools and rugs, too much to store in the hull. Piles of belongings were covered with a tarp and strapped to the deck. The admonitions to travel light were ignored by all but the steerage passengers. A couple of days later the process was repeated in New Orleans. Adam had been aboard the ship for seven days and it was finally headed to open waters.

 

In all there were over five hundred passengers bound for California. Forty women had joined the voyage by the time the ship headed south toward Panama. Most of them were wives traveling with their husbands, doctors, tradesmen, bankers, a minister and the rest were gold seekers bound for a new life in California. They were filled with hope that a fortune lay before them.

 

Adam was now assigned to the public areas of the steamship. The captain was convinced that a handsome young man with genteel manners would impress the women in first class very favorably. He was more valuable as a steward. He still worked long hours, fetching iced drinks and adjusting umbrellas to keep the fierce sunlight from the passengers on the first class deck, serving meals in the dining rooms and attending to the needs of the men at the gambling tables. Adam smiled as he served two cattlemen discussing the price they had gotten at the livestock auctions in San Francisco. Demand had grown in proportion to the population since he had left for college four years earlier. Thirty dollars a head seemed a fantastic price to Adam, but that was what the men had received the previous year autumn.

 

At the end of his sixteen hour day, he met his friends Edwin and Caroline on the upper deck before he settled in his hammock below deck.

 

“With all the talk about panning for gold, I might just have to stake a claim for myself,” Edwin said one evening. “They say that millionaires are made every day. How ‘bout you, Adam? Do you have gold fever?”

 

“Pa wrote that some gold was found off the Carson Trail a few years back. There’s nothing on our ranch, though. And I think he’d have my head if I didn’t go back to the Ponderosa right away. From what I’ve heard from the cattlemen on board, there’s money to be made in ranching. Everybody’s got to eat, not everybody finds gold.”

 

“And we,” Caroline said as she took Edwin’s hand in hers, “will feed their souls with Shakespeare.” She winked. "And, fingers crossed, get rich while we do it."

 

The three friends laughed and said good night.

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Junius Booth was never one to idle away his days. Finding that his physical activity was limited to strolling the length of the deck and back made him feel a bit like a caged lion. He had a mind for business and with a captive audience of hundreds of passengers he easily talked Captain Davis into an evening’s performance of excerpts from Shakespeare. He would begin the program with Iago’s monologues, followed by selections from Romeo and Juliet featuring Edwin and Caroline, and finally, he would reappear as Richard III. The troupe would perform on the upper deck one evening and for the second class passengers the next. As for the “floating sardine tin” deck, as Junius referred to steerage, Edwin and Caroline would perform a dress rehearsal for pennies. By the voyage’s end they would recoup their fares and then some. If all went well they would perform during the layover before traveling up the coast of California on their way to San Francisco.

 

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Word that one of America’s leading actors, Junius Booth, was aboard and performing a program of scenes from his Shakespearean roles spread quickly through the Senator. Many had seen him act to great acclaim in Boston, New York, Washington and New Orleans, and were delighted to hear that he was willing to entertain them. Those who had never seen him, but knew of his reputation, were thrilled to finally watch him. He did not disappoint. Years on stage had taught him how to modulate his voice and draw his audience to him.

 

Still it was Edwin as a romantic Romeo who made the biggest impression. Young, slim, and very handsome, he attracted the ladies’ attention. He was near in age to the character and his intensity matched the love-struck teen’s ill-fated demeanor. Caroline, though a dozen years his senior, was petite, doe-eyed and very pretty. They paired well and had the steerage passengers sobbing into their kerchiefs as they performed the final scene. They threw coins and cheered as Edwin and Caroline took their bows. Junius watched from the sidelines and noted that someday he might pass his mantle as the country’s leading tragedian to his talented middle son.

 

Their subsequent performances were equally enjoyed in the upper decks. Junius added an encore in which he played Prospero to Caroline’s Miranda and Edwin’s Ferdinand. The audience cheered at Caroline’s reading of the line, “O brave new world, That has such people in't!”.

 

As the applause died, Junius took a final solo bow and then called Edwin to his side. He introduced his son and announced their upcoming engagement at the Jenny Lind Theatre in San Francisco. Caroline and Edwin would perform Romeo and Juliet but he would make his debut in the role of Hamlet in Sacramento later in the summer. Later, as he removed his makeup, Junius wondered if he would leave Edwin to learn his trade in California and return home by Christmas.

 

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Twelve days into the voyage, Edwin woke early. The sun was streaming in through the port hole in his cabin. He washed and quickly dressed to find a good place at the railing. The steamship slowed and grunted as it entered shallow waters in the Limon Bay on the coast of Panama. The winds and water were still and the heat radiated off the deck. Edwin gazed east at the thickly wooded shore and watched a harpy eagle soaring high above the rainforest. There on a nearby island was the village of Aspinwall founded by the Americans now at work on a railroad to cross the isthmus to the Pacific Ocean. A hundred white washed buildings stood in contrast to the lush greenery surrounding them. The sleepy village would soon wake with the sound of the steamboat engine and become a beehive of activity as the passengers arrived.

 

Adam was on deck, securing the luggage for the off loading. He caught Edwin’s glance and tipped his hat. Edwin pointed to the shore and mouthed the words, “El Dorado!” Adam nodded. “O brave new world!” he answered. The harbor was not large enough to accommodate a steamship as large as the Senator. Captain Davis laid anchor in the amber colored waters. The passengers and their belongings would be ferried to land where they would travel across Panama by canoe and then on mules to reach the Pacific and resume their sea journey to California.

 

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Late in the afternoon Adam sat in the Captain’s sweltering cabin.

 

“Son, you’ve earned your keep on this journey,” Captain Davis said. “I'll bet you got some good tips today.”

 

A crooked grin slowly crept across Adam’s face. He patted the front pocket of his trousers. “I did, sir. It’s enough for the passage across the isthmus and the fare for a steerage berth on the other side.”

 

“By the time you reach Panama City, you might have a full fare. Just keep paying attention to the ladies from first class. In my experience, they’re very generous to helpful and handsome young men.”

 

Adam raised his eyebrow and smiled in response.

 

“If you ever tire of ranch life, you’ve always got a job with me.”

 

“Thank you, sir. But, begging your pardon, if I would go to sea, I’d want to go far out to the open waters on a schooner or maybe a whaler.”

 

“Like that Melville hack,” the captain said under his breath.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Like that damnable writer Melville, you know, Typee and Omoo.”

 

Adam shrugged his shoulders. “Grandfather gave them to me.”

 

Captain Davis opened his desk drawer. “Then you’ll want this one.” He pulled out Moby Dick, or, The Whale. “It’s fiction but it’s the truest of his books. Take it and learn from it, son. This is better than the other two. You’ll know everything about whaling, its dangers and its hardships after you read this.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” He stood and shook the captain’s hand.

 

“Adam, I nearly forgot. Mister Edwin Booth asked me to tell you that they’ve settled in the Americas Hotel. You’re to join them there.”

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In Panama, in the rainy season, as Adam learned very quickly, the heat and humidity builds as the day progresses, until it results in a sudden, short downpour. The air cleared and was followed by sunshine and the whole process began again. In assisting the passengers off the steamboat and then seeing that their luggage was delivered to their hotels, he had been drenched twice. By the time he made his way to the Americas Hotel, the skies had opened again.

 

Adam negotiated the muddied streets and stepped on to the shaded veranda of the Americas Hotel. He shook himself like a wet puppy. Edwin escaped his notice until he heard laughter from the shadows. Edwin was seated on the veranda sipping a fermented pineapple drink called, chicha.

 

“You might as well ask for a bar of soap at the desk and finish the job. You’re soaked through already.”

 

Adam turned and smiled at his friend. “I’m glad to see that you are settled.”

 

“I am,” Edwin lifted his glass to toast Adam. He sipped his drink and then pulled a key from his pocket. “Here, go bathe and change. Dinner is in an hour.”

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The next day the travelers took advantage of a short delay before their journey across the isthmus. They had their clothes laundered and outfitted themselves for the heat and jungle. They were advised that the river portion of the trip would take four days or more and then the trip over the mountains would take an additional two days. They all bought finely woven straw hats to protect their eyes and heads from the sun. To the dismay of some of the other women travelers, Caroline bought several loose “native” blouses and skirts in addition to her bright ribbon-trimmed hat. She delighted in the snobbish looks she garnered as she ate lunch. She heard the word “Indian” whispered behind the hands of the ladies at the next table.

 

“Let ‘em stare,” she said. “It’s too hot to care what they think.”

 

“We’ll use it in the Tempest on the way home,” Junius assured her. “In fact, we may launch an entire Caribbean production.”

 

“Oh good,” Edwin teased. “I’ll go shirtless and bare-footed.”

 

“The society ladies in Boston may not be ready for that, my son.”

 

“But their daughters wouldn’t mind, I’ll wager.”

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The next morning was hot, misty and muggy. Junius Booth found it hard to catch his breath and stayed in bed enervated by the heat. He wondered if this tour was worth leaving his dear wife and home. He resolved that he would make sure that Junior and Edwin were well settled in California and return home as soon as he could. There was a soft knock at the door and Edwin entered, carrying a tray.

 

“Good morning, Father, I’ve brought you some breakfast.” Junius sat up and accepted the tray. “Those are hojaldras.” Junius frowned in disapproval. “They’re like mother’s doughnuts. And the fruit is delicious,” Edwin assured him.

 

“Is there coffee?”

 

“I’ll go get us some,” Edwin said as he opened the door. He returned with another tray holding a coffee pot, cups and sugar. He poured the hot black liquid and added three teaspoons of sugar. “There’s no milk,” he said as he handed the cup to his father. “I’ve got good news. Adam and I have arranged for us to leave tomorrow morning.”

 

“I thought we had to stay a week,” Junius replied.

 

“There were some ‘openings’ when Mrs. Irene Carlisle was wearied by the voyage and suffering from the heat here. The Carlisles and the Raeburns will cross next week.”

 

“It’s not going to get any cooler,” Junius noted. “But the better for us, I say. I’m anxious to get started.”

 

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Adam woke by dawn the next day and made an early start to the river to load the luggage in the hired bungo boats. The dugouts reminded him of boats he and his father rode when they made their way west. These were larger, holding up to ten people, in a tight, two-by-two formation. A canopy shaded them from the harsh sunlight and somewhat shielded them from the rain showers. A crew of four men per bungo used poles to propel it through the shallow water. They also served as guides, cooks, and porters. Separate bungos held the luggage, food and supplies. With a blend of English, Spanish and hand signals Adam managed to ‘converse’ with the crew.

 

Junius, Edwin and Caroline arrived by eight o’clock. They were joined by two couples, Edith and Frank Graham and Marian and Gerald Duncan, and Sam Baxter, a recent Yale graduate striking out on his own. Adam was amused that Graham and Duncan insisted on carrying pistols and knives on their belts. Their wives, who looked askance at Caroline’s more comfortable attire, were horrified by crew’s shirtless torsos, skimpy trousers and wide brimmed straw hats.

 

“They must cover themselves, Gerald,” Marian Duncan insisted. “I will not have it. They are heathens.”

 

“I assure you, Mrs. Duncan, they are not heathens,” Adam said. “They are wearing Christian crosses around their necks.”

 

“Apparently they do not look to the Bible for modesty,” Junius added with a sly grin. “It seems that they are 'not inconveniently burdened with clothing', as it were. But, madam, I would have them as naked as God made them if it would get us to Gorgana in record time.”

 

“You and Edith may sit in the middle, dear. Your view will be obstructed,” Gerald Duncan said, scowling at Junius.

 

“And what about her?” Marian said inclining her head toward Caroline.

 

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Caroline said. “I’m very interested in the view…of the wildlife, that is.”

 

When they shoved off a few minutes later, Adam, Edwin and Caroline were seated comfortably on top of the carpetbags in the luggage bungo. The morning sun had not risen above the mountain yet and they were eager to see everything. The river was lined with coconut, palm and banana trees whose roots stretched down into the water. The leaves of colossal trees were as long as a man and several feet wide. There were splashes of bright colors from the tropical flowers that clung to the trunks of the trees. And the noise! Parrots and monkeys chattered continuously. The three friends spent the morning enthralled by their surroundings.

 

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By late morning the sun had risen above the mountain and shone brightly on the travelers. In the heat of the day even the cacophony of bird calls and monkey cries died down. The boats moved slowly upriver. The rocking of the dugout lulled the threesome to drowsiness. Adam stretched out, placed his hat over his face and was soon snoring softly. Edwin rigged Caroline’s parasol to stand open among the bags to protect her.

 

At one o’clock the boats stopped at a village, just a couple of rough huts really, left by the men building the railway across the isthmus. The boatmen disembarked and anchored the bungos to trees on the shore. They laid their poles down in a pile and were warmly greeted by women cooking rice in a pot over a fire.

 

“They don’t expect us to eat that do they?” Mrs. Duncan asked. “We’ve got our own food in our trunk.”

 

Adam and Sam looked over to the luggage bungo. It would take time and not a little effort to retrieve the trunk. They rolled their eyes. “This can’t be good,” Adam said under his breath.

 

“The food is quite safe, Mrs. Duncan. I promise you. It’s just rice cooked in coconut milk with some fish or game,” Sam Baxter said. He answered Adam’s puzzled look with a smile.

 

“Our steamboat captain on the Savannah warned us not to eat anything 'native',” Frank Graham insisted.

 

“And did he sell you the provisions in your trunk?” Sam asked. “Highway robbery, if you ask me,” he muttered under his breath.

 

“Why should we trust you?” Mrs. Graham asked.

 

“I have it on good authority,” Sam began to explain.

 

“Captain Wilson is a friend of our steamship’s owner, Cornelius Vanderbilt, himself!”

 

“The captain shares his cut-throat business acumen with his ruthless employer, madam.”

 

Before things deteriorated further, Junius stepped in. “You were saying, Sam, that you know the food is safe….”

 

“Yes. My uncle assures me it is edible,” Sam continued. “No harm will come to you.” Seeing the doubtful expressions of his fellow travelers he added, “He is Byron Scott. He captains the S.S. California from Panama City to San Francisco.”

 

The village women brought out trays of fruit. There were oranges, bananas, mangoes and guava. “I guess that we can manage with fruit for now,” Mrs. Graham sighed. With a compromise struck, Sam joined Adam, Caroline and the Booths for lunch.

 

“I love the rice and coconut. I can’t exactly place the meat,” Caroline said. “It’s tasty….”

 

“But a little chewy,” Edwin said.

 

“This is alligator, I’ll wager. I’ve had it in New Orleans,” Junius said.

 

“You’re right, sir,” Sam grinned.

 

“Those fearsome creatures along the shore?” Caroline asked.

 

“One and the same,” Sam grinned. He bent his head toward the others. “Don’t know what they’re missing.” He took another bite and grinned. “When in Rome…”

 

The crew napped in the shade for a couple of hours, much to the consternation of the anxious Duncans and Grahams, who eventually settled in the shade and dozed themselves. Sam led Adam and his friends into the tropical forest to show them the monkeys and birds and lush foliage.

 

“We’re lucky, you know,” Sam said pointing at a pair of bottle-green parrots with yellow spotted heads. “Soon the railroad will come through here and passengers will cross this country in a day. They’ll miss all of this.” He spread his arms wide.

 

“The ladies would not mind missing this at all,” Caroline said. “I must say, I’d love some feathers for a hat!”

 

“With your red hair, it would be spectacular,” Sam said flirtatiously. “They’re very loyal birds, you know. They mate for life.” Caroline smiled sweetly and took his arm as they headed back to the boats.

 

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In the late afternoon they were back on the river. The crew was negotiating faster waters as they moved upstream. At places the riverbed was littered with boulders. Several times the passengers had to abandon their dugouts and walk along the shore while the crew guided the boats between the boulders and over rapids. Monkeys followed the passengers as they made their way through the dense rainforest. The monkeys chattered and jumped from tree to tree.

 

“Watch this,” Sam said. He picked up a small coconut and threw it at the monkeys in a nearby tree. They responded by tossing coconuts down on the travelers. Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Graham screamed and rushed up the path with their husbands. “Help me collect these,” Sam said leaning down and gathering his spoils. “We’ll tap them and have a fine drink.”

 

“You should apologize to the ladies, Sam,” Caroline said.

 

“I will when I offer them a drink,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t think they could move that fast, did you?”

 

Later it began to rain very hard. Those who had outfitted themselves for the wet season donned their oilcloth hats and coats and “stewed in their own juices” under the canopy. The younger foursome tented the tarp to protect themselves on the luggage bungo and amused each other by singing. They collapsed in laughter when the crew joined in during ‘Oh Susannah’. “It’s the railroad workers. They’ve taught the locals some American songs,” Sam explained. The crew continued to pole the boats through the tropical showers and finally tied up at Gatun for the night.

 

With the stop the boatmen could not deny the Duncans and Grahams their trunk of food stuffs and luggage. Everyone settled into the rough bamboo huts, the ladies in the improbably named “Astor House” and the men in “Delmonico’s”. The couples had their dinner of tinned meat and biscuits while the others were invited to eat in the home of one of the railroad engineers. Amelia Walker had recognized Junius Booth when the bungos had landed. She saw him play Julius Caesar back home in New Orleans. She sent a young boy with a note to invite him to dinner. She was thrilled with such exalted company.

 

Mrs. Walker began by pouring a “cocktail” of quinine and brandy. She insisted that they all drink it up. “I know that it can be quite vile, but you must drink it. It will keep the isthmus fever away. Doctor Flint doses the railroad workers every day.” They drank the awful concoction, not without making faces, and happily moved on to the fermented pineapple chicha that Edwin had enjoyed in Aspinwall. Peter Walker brought out a bottle of rum and laced their drinks with it. They enjoyed a fine meal of fried plantains, rice and wild duck steamed in banana leaves, and fruit. The Walkers were generous hosts.

 

“When will the railroad be finished?” Adam asked.

 

“Well, son, if we had good solid ground to build on, it would be done in a season, two at most. But here we have swamps and a damnable twisty, snaky, meandrous river. To say nothing of the weather! Two years, probably three.”

 

“Let’s hope the gold mining holds up in California,” Sam said.

 

Though Sam was the only member of their party interested in gold, all nodded their heads in agreement. Lucky, but homesick, miners would buy beef from the Ponderosa and attend the theater. As Junius Booth and the rest of his party left Amelia handed him a packet of quinine. “Every day, Mr. Booth. Mix it in brandy or some juice.”

 

He kissed her hand. “I shall look forward to meeting you again on my return trip, dear lady.”

 

By the time they fell asleep the rain returned and it stormed well into the night. Near dawn Adam woke to see the moon. The stillness of the night was broken by the birds and monkeys waking. He rose and walked to the river to wash. The Chagres was swollen from the storm and the current was swift.

 

“Café, senor?”

 

He smiled at the young boy. He recognized the boy from the Walker home. He nodded and the boy led him to the kitchen door. Soon Adam sat sipping his coffee, his mind on his family in much different surroundings. He vowed to sketch a bit to show his brothers the wonders he had seen.

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The river was swollen from the storms. Adam and the rest of the passengers were forced to walk in the rain-drenched forest for a good part of the day. The trails were slippery with mud and the "gentlemen" were diligent in their efforts to keep the women from falling. Diligent but not successful. Much of the time they were under the scrutiny of the monkeys who trailed them, leaping from tree to tree, chattering. “No doubt we are more puzzling to them than they are to us,” Adam chuckled.

 

Muddied, mosquito-bitten and sunburned, they arrived at Rancho No. 1, a deserted camp for the railroad construction workers, late in the afternoon. There were dozens of fellow travelers, all in a race toward the Pacific coast and the steamships to San Francisco. Here the men found lodging in the “Commodore Hotel”, a ramshackle bunkhouse with beds stacked in six tiers. The women were accommodated in the ranch house under slightly more genteel conditions.

 

That night, exhausted and still hungry after a meager meal of fish and cornmeal, they made their way to their beds. All, that is, except for Adam. The close quarters were too claustrophobic. He watched the bungo crewmen tie hammocks in the trees and bargained for one in a series of gestures and broken Spanish. He happily climbed into the hammock, sliding his hat over his face to protect himself from the mosquitoes. The monkeys barking reminded him of coyotes. He shifted position and allowed the hammock to gently rock him to sleep.

 

He woke to the sounds of the birds. There were parrots, toucans and, he squinted to make sure he had really seen them, tropical pheasants. He “borrowed” one of Mr. Duncan’s rifles and headed into the forest to hunt. He returned with six pheasants and handed them to the crew, indicating they could take three and the rest were for the passengers. The boatmen paid some women to cook the birds with rice and plantains for breakfast.

 

Duly fortified by breakfast they headed out, hoping to reach Gorgona by the day’s end. The river was shallow and with frequent rapids. It required more walking for the women and assistance from the men in towing the heavily laden bungoes. Gorgona was just six miles away as the crow flies but it took nearly all day to traverse the meandering trail.

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Gorgona was a steep walk up the hill from the river. The travelers left their trunks at the pier and carried their small valises up to the village. Gorgona had little to offer. It was a stepping off point from the Chagres River to the mountainous trail that led to Panama. The railway construction had not reached this far yet, so there were a few small “hotels”. Adam and his companions would be lucky to get anything more than rough beds for their ten dollars that night. The grass and mud homes belonged to the boatmen and muleteers. Their wives supplemented family incomes by cooking and doing laundry for travelers. The wearying travelers were anxious to start early the next day. Dumping their valises at the first “hotel”, Adam and Sam set out to hire the muleteers. They were armed with a letter from Sam’s uncle and a healthy bribe from Junius Booth.

 

“You know anything about mules, Adam?”

 

“A bit,” he answered casually. He thought back on the Army mule-trains he and his pa encountered on his way west. Less expensive than horses and stronger, the army pack mules could withstand 200 pounds on their backs and still make twenty miles a day. He wondered what kind of stock he would encounter here in tropical Panama.

 

“That’s more than I know. I know something of thoroughbreds and mother has a lovely pair of donkeys for a cart. But of mules, I confess, I know nothing. I leave it to you.”

 

Sam negotiated with the guide and his team while Adam chose a string of twelve riding mules and four pack mules. Sam paid the men extra to leave shortly after dawn, allowing the travelers to avoid the mid-day heat. Their luggage would travel separately.

 

“Adam, this is Miguel. He says it is but an eight hours’ ride to Panama in the dry season.”

 

As the skies darkened in the late afternoon, Adam shrugged. Another tropical storm was coming. “And in the rainy season, Sam?”

 

“Two days of slogging through mud is my guess,” Sam said, patting Adam on the back.

 

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Sam’s trust in the guide was rewarded the next morning when the muleteers arrived early at the hotel. The luggage was strapped on to the pack mules’ backs. Adam examined the mules and the saddles. He separated the tamest for the ladies. He chose the orneriest for himself. It had been years since he’d ridden for more than a couple of hours but he trusted his abilities.

 

Adam and Edwin grinned broadly the next morning as Caroline stomped out of the hotel.

 

“Stupid cows,” she grumbled as she neared the men. “Let ‘em fall off a cliff. See if I care.”

 

“Caroline, my dear, what is it that you’re wearing?” Junius Booth asked gazing at her knee length skirt and scarlet pantaloons.

 

“A riding costume, Junius.”

 

“But,” he whispered. “You’ve forgotten your skirt.”

 

“They are ‘bloomers’,” she corrected him. “They make much more sense than crinolines and side-saddles for riding rough.”

 

“I think you look very fetching, Miss Chapman,” Sam said admiring her ankles. “I must recommend 'bloomers' to my sisters.”

 

Edwin and Adam rolled their eyes.

 

“Not you two as well,” she sighed. “I’m not riding like a 'lady' on a rough mountain trail.”

 

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Adam said, suppressing his laughter.

 

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Adam and Sam stepped into the dining room for one last cup of coffee before beginning the ride toward Panama City. Edith Graham sat frowning at the plate of scrambled eggs and hojaldras in front of her. She counted breakfast as the most important meal of the day and the plate she was served did not please her. She preferred soft-boiled eggs, two strips of lean bacon, lightly buttered toast, and coffee with real cream. She had not tasted anything like real cream since leaving New Orleans. Adam noted her pouting look and wondered how she would adjust to San Francisco. She sighed and sipped the bitter black coffee. He caught her glance and smiled meekly.

 

They left by seven and crossed several miles of flatlands leading to the mountain trail. The grassy plains put Adam in mind of home. He breathed in the familiar aroma of a field of oats drying in the sun and dared to daydream about the reunion with his family. He hoped that he would recognize Joe, and that Joe would cotton to a brother who had gone absent for years. He was not worried about Hoss, who opened his heart to friends and family. They had shared too much to be estranged too long. But as he watched the Booths riding together and leaning toward each other in easy companionship, he was anxious about his father. Adam had left as a boy and was returning as a man. An accomplished man with hopes and dreams of his own.

 

Adam’s hopeful mood was infectious. For once the Duncans and Grahams seemed happy during the early morning ride. Edwin’s tenor voice could be heard leading the muleteers in singing “Camptown Races” and the mules trotted across the plains. As they neared the tropical forest the trail forked. Miguel explained that the luggage would go by one route and they would take the other. He instructed them to dismount and take with them only what was absolutely necessary for a one night’s stay on the trail.

 

“But it’s so clear and beautiful this morning,” Edith Graham said.

 

“And I show you the clouds that hide the mountains,” Miguel answered pointing west to cloud-covered peaks. “It will rain, Senora, and there will be mud.”

 

Adam dismounted and stretched to relieve a kink in his back. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The humidity was rising and with the bright sun beating down he felt a headache coming on. He untied his flask from the saddle took a long drink.

 

“Is there a chance we’ll make it to Panama City today?” Caroline asked.

 

“I’m not counting on it,” Adam answered. He rubbed his shoulder absent-mindedly.

 

“Be sure to bring your oilskins,” Sam advised.

 

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Miguel led the travelers along a trail that first headed into the tropical forest. The rich foliage blocked the harshest sun and enveloped the trail. The trail was slick but the mules rarely lost their footing. As they climbed up the trail the foliage thinned and gave way to a rough, rocky and perilously narrow path.

 

“Close your eyes, Edith, and hold on to the saddle horn,” Frank Graham said as one of the muleteers guided her mule. The steep trail was a series of switchbacks down the mountain. Riding side-saddle made her feel unsteady and the rocking action of the mule’s walk terrified her. It did not take much effort to imagine falling over the cliff to a certain death. Edith bravely gritted her teeth and prayed. She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached a valley between the mountains.

 

Unfortunately that is when the skies darkened and huge drops of rain splattered down. They barely had time to don their oilskins when the rain began to fall in torrents. The lightning was still far enough away when the mules raced toward a ranch in the distance. They reached it as lightning was crashing around them.

 

“Senora Wilson!” Miguel shouted as everyone dismounted and ran to the covered veranda.

 

A small woman dressed in a bright loose blouse and striped skirt opened the door. “Oh, Miguel, it is you. I will go fetch Senora Wilson.”

 

Regina Wilson had followed her husband, Stanley, to Panama on their way to California several years earlier. In this valley their trek to the gold fields of California ended abruptly. The Wilsons contracted “isthmus fever”. It was Miguel’s sister, Maria, who nursed them back to health. They were touched by the generous nature of the people in the valley. When they were fully recovered they looked around at the green fields and the azure skies and decided to stay. They spent the last of their savings on land and cattle. They were making a go of it, eking out a living, which Miguel helped to supplement by bringing travelers to feed and board when necessary.

 

“Oh you poor dears, leave your oilskins on the porch and come in,” Regina said. “Maria, get some towels. These folks are soaked right through.”

 

The storm lasted for hours while everyone relaxed and enjoyed the Wilsons’ hospitality. Dinner was served at a table with a lace tablecloth. The beef was tender. And to Edith Graham’s delight, there was cream for her coffee. That night Adam and Sam shared a room. The next morning Adam sat quietly at breakfast. He sipped his coffee and picked at his food.

 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Caroline noted.

 

“He wasn’t last night,” Sam said.

 

“Did you two stay up late and tell stories?” Edwin asked.

 

“No,” Sam chuckled. “He talked in his sleep, calling out for Marie. Is she the girl you left behind in Boston?”

 

Adam quietly cleared his throat. “She was my stepmother.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood.

 

“You’ve hardly touched your breakfast,” Edwin noted. “Are you feeling sick?”

 

“I’m fine. Anxious to get started, I guess.”

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Miguel watched as Adam dragged his saddle to his mule. He winced as he hoisted it on to the mule’s back and cinched it. Adam noticed the unwanted attention and with a thin-lipped smile he mounted stiffly. Miguel nodded. There was a three hour ride to Panama City if all went well. He recognized that the tall, lanky American’s stiffness and dull attitude meant that he was sickening for a fever - probably break-bone fever. Adam was restless as he struggled to find a comfortable seat. Miguel hoped they would get to Panama City before Adam was too sick to ride.

 

The trail was much the same as the previous day, prairie land to tropical forest to cliff path. The skies were clear and the sun was bright. Adam pulled his hat down low but still his eyes burned in the sun’s glare. He stopped for more water breaks than the others and fell behind the pack. Sam rode back and was stunned by Adam’s appearance. His shirt was soaked through and his shoulders were hunched.

 

“Adam,” Sam greeted his fellow traveler. “Adam!”

 

Adam straightened up with difficulty.

 

“Do you need to stop?”

 

“I’m afraid if I get down off this mule, I won’t be able to get back up.”

 

“Miguel says Panama City is just another hour’s ride. Can you make it?”

 

Adam gritted his teeth against the sharp pain in his hips and shoulders. “I’ll have to.”

 

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Sam rode to meet Miguel in the lead. He told the muleteer about Adam’s condition. Together they peered down the rocky trail leading to Panama City. Sam looked back at Adam, now completely slumped in his saddle, and very pale. “Miguel,” he said softly, “I want to send a message to my uncle in the city.” He took several coins from his pocket and showed Miguel a piece of paper with his uncle’s name and address.

 

“I know that house, Senor. It is high on the hill on the road into the city.”

 

“Here is five dollars for you and whoever you send. Tell my uncle that there will be five of us coming. And tell my aunt to prepare a sick room.

 

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Miguel led the travelers to Captain Scott’s elegant house overlooking Panama City, where the air was slightly cooler and fresh. There were soft green lawns and lush flower gardens. The house itself looked like it had been plucked from Charleston, two stories high with a wide covered veranda facing the sea. Sam and his companions headed toward the house while Miguel took the Grahams and the Duncans into the city.

 

“Aunt Tessa!” Sam shouted. He dismounted quickly and ran to embrace his aunt.

 

“Oh, Sam, look at you!” She returned the hug. “All grown up now. You could use a shave, dear." She teased him as she held his face in her hands. He grinned and rubbed his chin. He looked over her shoulder to the veranda. “Where’s Uncle Byron?”

 

“He’s due back in a few days.”

 

“But I thought he was sailing to San Francisco at the end this week.”

 

Sam’s aunt shook her head. “The sea does not always co-operate with our plans, Sam. He’ll be home soon. He'll stay for ten days and then sail back to San Francisco. Don’t worry, dear, you’ll get to California soon enough. In the meantime we’ll have a nice long visit. These are your friends then,” she said turning to the rest of the party.

 

Sam introduced Junius and Edwin Booth first. Tessa Scott blushed when Junius kissed her hand. She welcomed them all to the spacious house on the hill. Edwin turned to see Adam still slumped in his saddle. Adam took a deep breath and girded himself against the pain in his back and hips. As he dismounted, the world spun in circles. He grabbed the saddle and closed his eyes, resting his head against the fender. Edwin quickly came to his side and placed an arm at Adam’s waist. “Dammit, Adam, your shirt is soaked through. You’re burning up. Let me help you inside.” Even with Edwin’s steadying arm, Adam stumbled up the stairs to the veranda.

 

“Oh dear,” Tessa Scott said. She turned to the tall man on the lawn. “Mateo, please help take this young man to the small bedroom in the back. Then go find Carmen.”

 

“I’m sorry, Aunt Tessa,” Sam said. “I tried to warn you.”

 

“Not to worry. I expect that your friend has a touch of isthmus fever. I have seen it many times.”

 

“Is it contagious?” Caroline asked.

 

Tessa shook her head. “Not really, but if another of you is getting sick, we’ll know quickly.” The group exchanged worried looks. “Oh, don’t worry, y’all, no one dies of isthmus fever.”

 

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Junius pulled down the bedsheets in the dark, cool room. The windows were shaded against the noonday sun. Adam groaned as Mateo and Edwin sat him on the bed. “This is the sickroom. I will go and fetch Carmen. She will make your friend well.” Edwin yanked at Adam’s boots as Adam unbuttoned his shirt. He winced as he removed the shirt. He stood as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. They pooled at this feet and he collapsed on the bed. Edwin pulled the trousers away from him while Junius settled him against the pillows. He rested his hand on Adam’s damp forehead and shook his head in response to the heat he felt there.

 

Tessa Scott and a small, wiry, and motherly woman, carrying a basin and towels, entered the room. Adam grabbed at the sheets and to cover his bare torso. “Oh, don’t be shy, son. Carmen and I have seen many a bare chest.” Tessa smiled warmly. She stirred a cloudy liquid for a moment before offering it to Adam. “Now, this tastes something awful but it’ll help that headache you’ve got and cool you down a bit.” He looked at her fearfully. She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his forehead lightly with a cool hand. “This came on you all of a sudden, didn’t it?” He nodded. “Your back hurts?” He nodded again. “And your hips and shoulders? And light hurts your eyes?” He nodded once more. “Need me to help you drink this?” He rose painfully on one elbow and held his breath as he gulped the bitter mixture of quinine and crushed coca leaves. He sighed as he fell back against the pillows. Tessa rose and Edwin moved a chair to the bedside. Carmen sat and dipped a flannel in a basin of cool water. She placed it on his fevered brow.

 

“Close your eyes, Senor, this will make you feel better.” She looked at Adam’s worried friends. “You leave now. He will be fine. See the rash? It is break-bone fever not malaria. He will be well soon enough.”

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After they bathed and changed their clothes, the party met for lunch. Tessa Scott was a generous hostess and had a light lunch prepared. She knew from experience that the weary travelers would nap away most of the day.

 

“Mrs. Scott,” Junius stood holding a glass of white wine. “I propose a toast to our wonderful benefactress. I can think of no better retreat after our journey.” The others stood and toasted a blushing Tessa Scott. “Here, here,” they all joined in.

 

“Mr. Booth, you are very kind. It is an honor to have you stay with us,” Tessa answered. “I will admit that I am a bit stage struck, having seen you in Cincinnati at the old Columbia Street Theatre on my honeymoon.”

 

“The Queen City has been very kind to me,” he said as he settled back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking of stopping there on our return trip.”

 

“So you are not planning on remaining in California?” Sam asked.

 

“I cannot speak for Edwin and Caroline, but no, Sam, I am staying for only one season. I would miss my dear wife and family too much to emigrate.” Edwin smiled at his father.

 

“Well, I for one, am keeping my options open,” Caroline said. “I had my fortune told in New Orleans and great adventures lie ahead for me. I hope that great fortunes follow.” She squeezed Sam’s hand under the table.

 

Sam stood and held his glass high. “I propose a toast to great fortunes then.” They clinked their glasses and laughed in good cheer.

 

“And what of your plans, Sam?” Junius asked.

 

“I am a better businessman than gold seeker, I’m afraid. Don’t like to get my hands so dirty,” he chuckled. “I intend to be a financier, Mr. Booth.”

 

Mateo quietly entered the dining room and whispered to Tessa. She nodded and rose. “Please continue your meal. The doctor has arrived and examined our patient. I should speak with him.”

 

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The doctor confirmed what Tessa had expected, Adam had dengue fever. By late afternoon he was in the throes of it. As his fever worsened, he grew delirious, shivering and sweating, restless and calling for his family. Carmen continued to nurse him. She bathed him with cool water and tried to get him to drink the quinine laced water. The doctor left laudamun to lessen the pain in his joints.

 

The hour before dinner Tessa spelled Carmen. Edwin walked into the room. “He looks awful,” he said alarmed at Adam’s condition. “Are you sure he will be well soon?”

 

“Dengue fever is terrible, but the blessing is that it is short and he is a strong young man. When did he start to sicken?”

 

“I don’t really know when it started. He’s not one to complain but I know he had a headache all of yesterday. He kept adjusting his hat and pinching the bridge of his nose. For a fine rider, he was very uncomfortable in the saddle.”

 

Tessa nodded. “It’s what the doctor and I surmised. If he’s lucky the fever will break sometime tomorrow or tomorrow night, ‘til then we’ll try to keep him quiet. Help me give him some water?”

 

Edwin lifted Adam’s shoulders and Tessa spooned water into his mouth, pausing to let him swallow. Adam groaned in pain as Edwin settled him back against the pillows.

 

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Tessa agreed to take her nephew Sam and his friends into the city.  Not since Aspinwall had they seen so many people. Aspinwall was a boomtown, spawned by the discovery of gold in California and the desire to reach the Pacific coast quickly. In contrast, the picaresque Panama City had its roots over three hundred years before, when Spanish conquistadors landed there on their way to Peru. It was sacked by the English pirate, Henry Morgan, a century later and rebuilt eight kilometers southwest from the original city. Mindful of pirates, Panama City was protected by fortified walls with canons perched in the ramparts. It was a city that forced its visitors to slow their pace after they had hurried to cross the isthmus and wait for the steamships headed north.

 

Tessa led them to the main plaza in the center of town. In the shadow of the great cathedral they rested and sipped coffee. The market was swarming with people and activity. The farmers sold fruit and vegetables unfamiliar to the visitors. Fishmongers lazily waved fans over their catch as cooks from the great houses inspected the fish. Young women with inky-colored hair, oiled and pulled tight in buns adorned with bright flowers, sold cloth and lacework. And everywhere there were gold seekers bound for California, spending money that they were sure they would make soon.  They were busy gambling, drinking and dancing.

 

Edwin, Sam and Caroline watched as society women, veiled in lace mantillas, led fidgety children to church.  The cathedral bells rang the angelus prayers at noon.

 

“Can I go in for a moment?” Caroline asked.

 

“Of course, but you must cover your head,” Tessa answered. “You’ll need a veil.”

 

Caroline purchased a mantilla and a vial of holy water in the vestibule and entered the cathedral. There she lit a candle at the statue of Saint Teresa of Avila, a patron saint of healing, and knelt to say a prayer for Adam. She would bathe his face with the holy water when she visited him later. Edwin gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Caroline,” he whispered in her ear. She nodded slightly and rose to walk out with him.

 

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“Senor,” Carmen shouted. “Help me!”

 

Junius ran from the veranda to the sickroom to find Adam delirious and fighting with Carmen. He was lost in a fever dream in which his father was drowning at sea. He struggled against the small wiry woman. He needed to help his father. Adam called out piteously for him.

 

“Adam!” Junius roared as he grabbed Adam’s shoulders. “Son! It’s all right. I’m here!” Adam woke and opened his eyes. He was confused by the unfamiliar surroundings and did not recognize Junius Booth. Junius sat on the bed and softly comforted Adam. “It’s all right, son. We’re all right. Everyone is fine.” He placed a reassuring hand on Adam’s damp, hot cheek. Adam leaned his face into it and his breathing slowed as he fell back to sleep.

 

“The fever will break now,” Carmen advised Junius. “You will see.”

 

Junius sighed. “I’ll stay with him.”

 

Carmen nodded and quietly left the room.

 

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“Tessa!” Byron Scott bellowed as he rode into the yard. “Tessa, my love!” Captain Scott was a handsome, big, barrel-chested man. A salt and pepper grey beard gave him a measure of gravitas, but the easy smile and the twinkle in his eye betrayed his good nature. He was a man of large appetites and after a three week absence he missed his wife. “Tessa! Dammit woman where are you!”

 

“Senor,” Teresa said as she walked out on to the veranda. “Senora Tessa is not here. She is in town with…,” she hesitated trying to find the English term and failed. “With ti sobrino, Sam.”

 

“My nephew,” Captain Scott said. “Sam’s here already?”

 

“He arrived yesterday.”

 

Junius stepped onto the porch. “Captain Scott, I am Junius Booth. I’m pleased to meet you.” He shook Scott’s hand firmly. “Your wife has graciously invited us to stay with you.”

 

“Junius Booth, the actor?” Captain Scott asked. “Why my wife and I saw you on our honeymoon.”

 

“So she told me,” Junius said smiling.

 

“You gonna bring culture to the gold fields in California, Mr. Booth?”

 

“Something like that, sir.”

 

“Teresa, do we have something cold to drink? I’m parched,” Byron Scott asked as he wiped his sweaty brow with his handkerchief. He looked at the young woman and winked. “Some beer?”

 

“Very cold beer, Senor. And you, Senor Booth, some beer?”

 

Junius nodded and the two men sat on the shaded veranda getting acquainted.

 

“You said ‘us’. Is your wife with you, Mr. Booth?”

 

“Call me Junius, Captain. No, my small troupe includes the actress Caroline Chapman and my son Edwin. We’ll meet my eldest, Junius Junior, in San Francisco. Our little party is complete with Edwin’s friend, Adam Cartwright, who is traveling home to the Nevada territory. I’m afraid young Adam is rather indisposed with dengue fever. He’s in your sickroom.”

 

“Poor lad, it’s a nasty illness. Tessa nursed me through it when we first came here. I cried like a baby with the pain. Thank heavens it doesn’t usually last long.”

 

“Will he be able to travel with us?”

 

“Are you intending to sail with me and Sam?” Junius nodded in reply. “Most likely he’ll be able to come with us. I’m not headed back to sea for another ten days, maybe more.”

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Tessa and her guests returned for a late lunch. The captain entertained everyone with his stories of California. Carmen’s prediction had been right. Adam’s fever broke and he fell into a deep, healing, and uninterrupted sleep until Caroline visited him in the late afternoon. She smiled at Carmen as she entered the sickroom and offered to sit with Adam.

 

“He will sleep, senorita.”

 

Caroline nodded and watched the weary woman leave. She pulled the vial of holy water from her pocket and soaked the flannel with it. Then she gently wiped Adam’s forehead and prayed softly for his recovery. Edwin stood in the doorway watching.

 

“You’re a funny one, Caroline. You listen to gypsies’ fortunes and pray to the saints.”

 

“They both have mysterious powers,” she answered. “Powers we do not understand.”

 

“Sam’s aunt assured us he would be well soon. Besides you’re the one who said he has a long lifeline,” he teased.

 

“I’m just making sure it stays long, Edwin.”

 

Adam moaned softly as he shifted position and opened his eyes. He was puzzled by the strange room. Caroline sat at the edge of the bed and took his hand as he asked where he was. “It’s okay, Adam. We’re in Panama City, at Sam’s uncle’s house. You’ve been sick.” He tried to sit up and could not. His limbs were sore and stiff and he felt weak as a new born kitten. He looked fearful. “Lie still.” She stroked his brow. “Edwin, please go get Mrs. Scott.”

 

Soon Tessa breezed into the room. She nodded to Caroline and they switched positions. Caroline stood and watched Tessa gently examine Adam. Tessa met his glance and smiled warmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Adam Cartwright,” she said. She took the sheet in her hand and began to lower it. Adam was startled and tried to take it back. “Now son, I’m just checking to see if that rash is healing.” He let go and she examined his torso. “It looks much better, not so mean today.” Adam met Caroline’s glance and he frowned. Tessa grinned in response. “Caroline, dear, perhaps you would do me a favor and ask Carmen to give you some of that brandied eggnog I made for Adam.”

 

“Are you still achy all over?” Tessa asked. He nodded. “It goes away in a couple of days.” He sighed. “Hungry?” He shook his head. “Do you feel queasy-like?”

 

“No,” he answered in a voice just above a whisper.

 

“Good,” Tessa said. Caroline returned with a bowl containing a mixture of brandy, cream and eggs. “We’ve got to build you up a bit, Adam. Caroline here will feed you. Take as much as you can.” Tessa patted his shoulder. “You’ll be just fine soon.”

 

He let Caroline feed him a couple of spoonfuls before he sighed and turned his face from her.

 

“Oh, no you don’t, Adam Cartwright. You should see yourself. You’re so gaunt and sickly-looking. Now you’re gonna eat this stuff. I insist. And you’re gonna get better ‘cause we’re headed to San Francisco just as soon as Captain Scott is ready,” she scolded him with a smile. “Open up.” He rolled his eyes and managed to swallow some more eggnog.

 

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As the sun set after dinner, Captain Scott pointed to his ship, the California, anchored in the harbor. “We’re due for some repairs. It’s been a rough couple of months,” he said reaching his hand out to his wife. He pulled her close and rested his arm at her waist. “I’ve not been home more than a month since the New Year. Boats are full, even in the rainy season. Seems like everybody and his brother’s got gold fever.”

 

“Except maybe Adam,” Caroline chimed in. “He’s headed home to his family’s ranch. I’m relieved that he’s on the mend.”

 

“He’s got to stay still and rest,” Tessa said.

 

“Something tells me that we’ll have a rough time trying to keep him in bed. He’s not one to sit still very long,” Junius added.

 

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Sam walked into Adam’s room carrying a tray with a bowl of rice pudding on it. Adam woke and struggled to sit up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and smiled. “Where’s my pretty nurse?”

 

“Carmen? The fever’s affected your eyesight. She’s as old as the hills.”

 

“I meant Caroline,” he chuckled. Sam placed the tray in Adam’s lap and walked over to open the drapes. Adam squinted against the bright morning sunlight. Sam quickly apologized and closed the drapes. “That’s okay, you didn’t know.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just that the ants’ nest behind my eyes is not quite calmed down.” He smiled at the chastened Sam and teased him. “Caroline would have known.”

 

Sam plopped down on the chair next to the bed. “About Caroline….”

 

Adam tested the rice pudding and then ate a large spoonful. “What about Caroline?”

 

“I thought she and I were,” Sam said as he pulled at his ear. “I thought that she maybe….well, then you went and got sick and all she can think about is you and whether you’ll get better.”

 

“Caroline is just a friend, Sam. She is a sweet and wonderful friend. I’m headed back to the Nevada territory when we get to San Francisco. I don’t think that Caroline is cut out to be a rancher’s wife. Besides, as you said, she seems attracted to you.”

 

Sam beamed. He stood and walked toward the door. “Now eat that up. Mr. Booth promised to come to read to you later.”

 

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Adam fell asleep after breakfast and despite Tessa Scott’s assurances that he would sleep all morning, Junius Booth eschewed the trip to the ruins of the old city with the others. He was touched by Adam’s fevered calling out for his father the day before. It had made him miss his family at the farm in Maryland. There were four small graves for the children who died so young. He brooded, wondering if his children, Asia and Johnny, were well.

 

Late in the morning he found Adam awake and he offered to read to him. “I went rummaging through the bookshelves and found this,” he said showing Adam the title page. “Robinson Crusoe. Just the thing after our adventures in the tropical forest, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Adam nodded.

 

Junius moved his chair near to the window and adjusted the drapes. The sun had climbed and no longer shone directly into the room. He sat and cleared his throat. He began to read.

 

“I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York; from whence he had married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very good family in that country, and from whom I was so called Robinson Krcutznacr; but, by the usual corruption of words in England, we are now called, nay, we call ourselves, and write our name, Crusoe; and so my companions always called me.”

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Junius continued to read until Carmen brought a lunch tray for Adam.  He helped Adam sit up and plumped the pillows to support his back.  “That smells good,” he said.  “Chicken and rice soup.” He nodded his approval.  “My Mary Ann makes soup when anyone is sick.”  For the first time in days Adam was interested in food.  He dipped his spoon in and tasted the soup.  It was delicious and he savored the next spoonful. 

 

Carmen smiled at her patient, pleased with his appetite.  “I will draw a bath for you, Senor Adam. You want to shave?”

 

“Is that wise, Carmen?  He shouldn’t be chilled after his fever.”

 

“It is warm, Senor Booth.  He will be fine.”

 

Adam ate in silence, amused by the fuss being made over him.  A bath and a shave would do wonders in making him feel normal again but he didn’t risk offending Junius, who had been so kind the last several days.

 

“I will bring you a robe.  He can help you to the tub,” Carmen said. 

 

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Clean and freshly shaven Adam rested in a hammock on the veranda relishing the change of scenery.   The ropes supported and hugged his sore back and limbs.  He reclined lazily and let the gentle rocking action of the hammock soothe him.  Captain Scott had cleared away the lush wild vegetation to build his house on the top of the hill with a view sweeping down to the sea.  The site offered relief from the crowded streets of the city and a sensation of coolness from the trees.  Tessa loved her adopted country and cultivated gardens of native flowers and plants.  But there was one plant from home that she could not live without.  She brought a Prairie Rose bush with her from her mother’s garden.  They complemented her lush Panama roses and flourished in the tropical climate.  They sweetened the air. Rarely had he ever given in to such languid pleasure.  He closed his eyes and dozed in the sleepy sunlight. 

 

He woke with a start at the sound of the laughter of his friends returning.  Caroline shaded her eyes with her hand and peered at the swinging hammock.  “Is that you, Adam?”  He placed his foot on the floor and struggled to sit up.  “Wait a minute.  Let me help you.”

 

Sam got to Adam quickly and steadied the hammock.  Adam closed his eyes against the spinning world before him.  “I’ve got you, Adam,” Sam said taking his friend’s arm.  “Can you stand?”  Adam breathed deeply and opened his eyes.  He nodded and Sam lifted him.

 

“I guess I moved too fast,” Adam said softly.

 

“Do you want to go back to your room?”

 

“Not yet, please, tell me about your day.” 

 

“Let’s find you a better place to sit,” Sam offered.   He led Adam to the wicker settee and sat him next to Tessa.  She touched the back of her hand against Adam’s forehead. 

 

“There’s no fever but you don’t want to tempt a relapse,” Tessa said patting Adam’s leg.     

 

Adam sighed.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

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When Adam woke early the next morning the pain in his joints was gone and there was no trace of a headache. Quietly, as not to disturb the household, he washed and shaved. The white shirt he donned had been sun-bleached and smelled faintly of the flowers near the clothesline. He buckled his belt two notches tighter. With the fever and loss of appetite he’d lost weight in the last week. He sat on the back stairs leading to the garden enjoying the sunrise. The sound of bird songs filled the air. He watched the hummingbirds hovering around a shrub with bright yellow flowers and left to fetch his sketchbook. As he sharpened his pencil he heard soft footsteps behind him.

 

“Coffee, senor?” It was Carmen. She greeted him with a warm smile as she reached to touch his forehead. “No fever, good!”

 

“I feel like myself this morning,” he said returning the smile. “I’ll take some coffee only if you join me.”

 

She nodded and went to get the coffee pot and two cups. She returned quickly and he took the tray from her as she sat next to him.

 

“Sugar?” He shook his head and took his cup from her. She stirred three spoonfuls into her cup and grinned at him over the rim. “I like it sweet.”

 

“This is my favorite time of the day. I get my best thinking done in the morning before anyone else is awake.”

 

“What are you thinking about this morning?”

 

“I’m thinking how good it is to be well again and just how beautiful it is here. And I think that I am fortunate to have good friends who have been so kind.”

 

She took his free hand in hers. “Do you miss your family?” she asked. He nodded. “I know that because you called for them when you were sick.” He squeezed her hand. “You hungry?” He nodded again and stood to help her up from the stairs. “I make you eggs. Come with me.”

 

Adam sat at the kitchen table and watched Carmen make breakfast for him. She heated oil and fried dough for hojaldras. While the dough bobbed in the oil, she scrambled and cooked some eggs. His stomach growled and his mouth watered. Carmen was pleased that he had regained his appetite. She grabbed a small banana from the cluster in a bowl on the counter and held it for him to take. He peeled it and relished the sweet, rich fruit. She blotted the grease from the hojaldras and dusted them with sugar as he ate. Then she placed them in a basket and handed it to Adam. Lastly, she divided the eggs on two plates and brought them to the table.

 

He took a bite of a hojaldra and thought of his stepmother Marie who made beignets as a special treat. He licked the sugar from his upper lip. “You’re trying to fatten me up.”

 

“Yes, you are too skinny.” She smiled and nodded. “Eat!”

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As the others ate breakfast Captain Scott offered to introduce the Booths to his friend, José Córdova, the manager of the Teatro El Dorado. Tessa had pointed out the theater the other day and explained that it was dark for most of the summer. Edwin and Caroline had noted the number of Americans biding their time before sailing to California. Junius saw an opportunity to perform. He had in mind a short evening of scenes, as they had performed on the steamboat.

 

“Stay with me this morning,” Tessa said taking Adam’s arm. “Carmen told me that you like to sketch. We can sketch together in the garden.” He sighed in reply. He had hoped that he could go into town with the others. “Just one more day, Adam, I promise you will be freed tomorrow.”

 

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They returned triumphant with two evenings booked for performances. Senor Córdova would post playbills as soon as he could print them.

 

After dinner Captain Scott proposed a poker game, penny ante, just for fun. Tessa and Junius declined but the rest quickly joined the game. An hour later, with piles of pennies in front of him, Adam folded with a wink to Edwin.

 

“You boys in cahoots with each other?,” the Captain teased.

 

“Obviously not, sir,” Edwin replied. “You need only look at my dwindling supply of pennies.”

 

“Give ‘em a handful, Adam,” Caroline said. “Let’s keep the game going.”

 

Adam picked up a stack and placed it in front of his friend.

 

“Where’d you learn to play, son?” Capt. Scott asked.

 

“My grandfather taught me. It came in handy in college. I earned some walking around money playing with my classmates at Harvard.”

 

“Whew, bet they hated losing to a backwoods boy,” the Captain said. Adam smiled in reply. “Served ‘em right. If you’re careful, you could earn a tidy sum on the way home.”

 

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“Are you ready for a little outing, Adam?” Captain Scott asked at breakfast the next morning.

 

“Sir?”

 

“I’m going hunting today.  Tessa suggested that you join me.”  The captain’s wife winked at Adam.  “I figure you know how to shoot.”

 

“I do, sir.  What kind of game?”

 

“Boar, deer, turkeys, whatever we find.   I smoke the meat and sell it in California. I make a pretty profit doing that.”  He stood and stretched his back for a moment. “We’ll make a day of it and be back well before supper.  Sam, you interested?”

 

Sam and Adam immediately agreed to the hunt.  They headed straight to the stables to select and  saddle the horses.  They bridled a mule for lugging the carcasses home.  Captain Scott and Mateo readied the rifles and soon joined them.  Tessa came out bearing food sacks and canteens. 

 

“I promise not to wear him out, Tessa,” Captain Scott assured his wife.  He bent down to kiss her.  “Sam’ll keep me honest, won’t you?”

 

Adam rolled his eyes, tired of being coddled.  He doffed his hat to Tessa and followed his host on to the path leading into the forest.

 

“You ever hunt wild boar, Sam?”

 

“No sir, I’ve hunted for pheasants and ducks.”

 

“Not the same. With boars the hunt is about the chase.  Those hogs run like the blazes and we’ve got to work as a team.  There’s nothing more dangerous to you or your horse than a wounded boar.  He just keeps charging ‘til he falls dead.  Aim at the head if you can, but if he’s charging you, just kill him anyway you can.”  Captain Scott cautioned his companions and then chuckled under his breath.  “It’s a thrilling sport, boys!  Let’s go before it gets too hot.  Mateo, here, will try and flush one out of the bush for us.”

 

They rode for an hour or so before Mateo dismounted near a cool stream and examined the steep banks for signs of trails and evidence of foraging for roots and worms with sharp tusks.  He signaled back to Captain Scott to lay back.  He saw muddy wallowing spots and hoof prints.  He began to beat the trees with a large stick.  The trees came alive with the barking of monkeys and the pounding of the stick reverberated. 

 

“Enough noise to wake the dead,” Sam said.

 

Adam spied a rustling in the bush and the flash of a dark snout.  He reached to quietly remove his rifle from its scabbard.  But before he could retrieve it the boar stood in the tall grass. He sensed danger for Mateo if he shot too soon.  The boar fled and the hunt was on.  The riders gave chase in the bush for a mile, crisscrossing the trail, ducking branches and keeping their prey in sight.  Mateo rode swiftly and joined them. He overtook the boar.  The riders blocked the fierce snorting animal and steered him nearer to the stream and a rock face to trap him.  There the captain got off the first shot, a true shot to the head.  Still the boar panted and charged Adam’s horse.  Sam shot and stopped the boar.  Mateo unsheathed a long sharp knife and slit the boar’s throat.  Captain Scott knelt and dipped his fingers in the blood.  He smeared a bit on Sam’s forehead.  Sam shied away. 

 

“It’s what the Indians do, don’t they, Adam?”

 

“Some do, yes, sir.  The English fox hunters do it as well.” Sam shot his friend a confused look.  “It’s called blooding.”

 

“Are you going to do it to him?” Sam asked.

 

“I have a feeling it wasn’t Adam’s first kill.”

 

“No, sir.  A boy learns to hunt pretty young where I’m from.  I expect my brother Joe, who is ten, has shot his first deer by now.”

 

“This old boar is a beauty, gotta be over two hundred pounds.  A fine day’s work.”  The captain removed a wineskin from his saddle and took a long drink before he passed it to Sam.  Sam took a gulp and choked, coughing as the brandy burned his throat.

 

“I thought it was water!”

 

“Sorry, Sam.  It’s another tradition.  We drink to the kill.”   

 

Sam passed the wineskin to Adam who took a modest drink and winked at his friend. 

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The travelers fell into a relaxed and languid routine for the duration of their stay in Panama.  Tessa took Adam to sketch the seaward view from the ramparts of the city walls, the snowy pelicans, and the eerie vine-covered ruins of the Jesuit Church at San Felipe. The Booth’s theatrical performances were successful and put everyone in a good temper.  Thereafter, they spent their days sightseeing and visiting the Scott’s friends.  Junius enjoyed the notoriety he attracted in town and promised a return engagement on his way home.  Dinners were casual and evenings were spent playing cards.  Edwin’s game improved.  He learned to use his acting talent and developed a poker face. 

 

Captain Scott rode to the harbor each morning after breakfast to check the progress on the repairs of his steamboat.  On the fifth day Adam rode with him.  He was anxious to continue the journey home and was relieved when the captain told him they would be sailing the day after next. 

The captain noted that Adam was still a little pale and thin.  He disapproved of Adam’s plan to work aboard ship to save the fare. 

 

“You ready to travel, son?” 

 

“Yes, sir, it’s time that I go home.”

 

“Adam, I’m hoping you can help me.  I see that you and Sam have become friends and I’m glad for that.  He’s a good man but a bit of a tenderfoot… that’s the word out west, right?” Adam nodded.  “He’s used to polite society and San Francisco isn’t polite society.  He’ll need a friend sometimes.”

 

“Of course, sir.  He’s been a real friend to me.”

 

“Good.  Now, there’s something else.  We’ll call it a present.  You’re not traveling steerage.”  Adam opened his mouth to object but the captain held his hand up to stop him. “I won’t have that on my ship. You’ll stay with Sam and keep him from spending too much time at the gambling tables.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Adam said softly.

 

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Adam packed his freshly laundered clothes and tucked in the few presents he could afford for his family.  Carmen had given him coffee beans and a new white linen shirt.  Tessa Scott insisted he take a medicine kit just in case his fever returned.  She gave him a new sketchbook to continue his drawing and slipped some of her small watercolors between the pages.  He closed the valise as Edwin appeared in the doorway.

 

“You ready for our big adventure?”

 

“I thought we were already on our big adventure, Edwin,” he replied with a crooked grin.  “I’m ready to head home.”

 

“Did the fever knock the wanderlust out of your system?”

 

“Maybe…maybe four years away from my family is enough for now.”  He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

 

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The final leg of their journey was a steamship voyage up the Pacific coast. Traveling north to San Francisco would take at least ten days. To reach Acapulco, the first of three refueling stops, would take four days. From there the California would sail to San Diego and Monterey before reaching to their destination.

After their treks across the isthmus and long layovers in Panama City, Adam and the rest of the ship's passengers were more than eager to reach California. Captain Scott’s steamship was smaller and more cramp than the vessels they had sailed in the Atlantic. The crowded conditions meant more fractious tempers among the travelers as well. Luckily the captain was able to secure cabins for his nephew Sam and his friends. The tiny cells with portholes and hammocks afforded little comfort but at least a modicum of privacy. Larger, but no grander, were the dining and gambling rooms. It seemed like every inch of space was occupied. Passengers competed for space on the deck with battened luggage under waterproof tarps and the chickens that the cook kept for the breakfast eggs.

Freed from obligations on the journey to San Francisco, Adam took advantage of his free time. He spent as much time on deck as possible. As the ship headed to the open waters, He watched porpoises and flying fish leap in the waves. He was startled by a ten foot sword-fish that charged the boat and darted away. Captain Scott invited him to the quarterdeck and pointed out the islands and sister ships by name. He felt that familiar tug at his heart, of the wish to spend time at sea like his father had done, and his father before him.

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The first night out, while the actors performed short pieces for Captain Scott’s guests after dinner, Sam and Adam headed to the gambling room.

“You know that your uncle disapproves of this, don’t you?”

“Yes, mother,” Sam teased. “Look, we’ll each take ten dollars. If we lose, we’ll lose no more than that. If we win, so much the better.”

“Ten dollars, no more.”

They entered the gambling room and watched a few games of poker before they were invited to join in. Each of them had identified the cardsharp. Adam whispered, “ten dollars” to Sam, and they sat opposite each other. An hour later they were up by ten dollars apiece. Captain Scott stood behind Adam with a jaundiced eye on the cardsharp. An honest game was the result. By night’s end, Adam had turned his ten dollars into fifty. Captain Scott laid a heavy hand on Adam’s shoulder, signaling him to leave. He stood and Sam followed.

“That cheat let you win tonight,” Captain Scott admonished them as they walked on deck. “He wants you to come back and test your luck again. I advise you to find another game.”

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The next afternoon Adam strolled the deck with Caroline on his arm. She held her parasol at an angle to protect them from the strong sun. A cry went up. “A Whale! Whale off starboard !” And another cry. “There she blows!”

They rushed to the railing and looked in the distance about a mile away to see a humpback whale leap from the sea. They were stunned to see how gigantic a creature it was. The whale landed in a tremendous belly flop, throwing the water up to a great height. As it dove the tail rose above the water and then slapped the surface. The whale rose again and water jetted from its spout. It continued to leap and dive for a few minutes before disappearing beneath the waves.

“Have you ever seen any like that?” Caroline asked in awe.

“A few times with my grandfather, off the coast of Nantucket,” he answered, “but never so close. And never such a big whale. Remarkable.” He thought back on the book Captain Davis had given him back in Panama. In Moby Dick a sperm whale destroyed a whaler and its crew.

Later that evening he asked Captain Scott about the whale and its power to destroy.

“You do know that story happened, don’t you? I don’t mean a white whale and a crazed whaling captain. I mean that, back some thirty years or more, a whale charged and rammed a ship, destroying it. The Essex, she was named. Sad, sad story. Twenty men went out, only five survived. Set adrift for weeks they were.”

“My grandfather told me. He met Owen Chase. Chase went back to sea within a year.”

“Some men have salt water in their veins, son,” Captain Scott said. “Tessa wouldn’t have let me go to sea again. I can tell you that.”

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A bright red sun rose on the third morning and Captain Scott was alert on the bridge. By nine, a storm was rising. By eleven, the wind blew the rain sideways and the waves crested over the lower deck spraying the cabins on the port side. Both paddlewheels worked hard to fight the roiling sea. Adam donned his oilcloth and made his way to the bridge.

“Morning, son,” Captain Scott greeted Adam. “Most sane people are staying in their cabins. There are a few stragglers in the gambling room.”

“Yes, well, my cabin needs some airing out,” Adam said pulling on his ear.

“Sam is sick?”

“His head is dizzy and he’s lost his breakfast several times over. I left him with a pail by his hammock and a cool flannel on his head.”

“You’re all right, though.”

“Not as rough as riding a bucking horse.”

“And you would know that for sure, son,” Captain Scott roared.

By dinner the seas were still rolling but the fierceness of the storm had passed. The service was sparsely attended. Even the gamblers stayed away. Captain Scott ate a leisurely meal, secure in the knowledge that the steamship had weathered the storm and that most of the passengers would lie low with seasickness.

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Adam stood at the rail watching the brilliant red sun slip under the waves, the skies still emblazoned in pinks and oranges. Junius Booth joined him.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Adam asked. “If I lived to be a hundred I’d never tire of that display.”

Junius quoted Shakespeare in reply.

“In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west”

“Sir?”

“You and Edwin, you’re just beginning your lives. I am afraid that I have lived my best days already.” He sighed and continued. “I dreamt of my death last night, a lonely death on water.” He looked into Adam’s worried face. “I’m fine, son. I guess that storm put me in a melancholy. I’m just missing my Mary Ann and my home.”

 

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Adam woke to the sight of the green coastal mountains of Mexico that extended down to the water. The morning was clear and a soft ocean breeze wafted through the porthole. As Adam stepped out on to the deck he admired the azure skies, the green mountains and white beaches. He longed for Tessa’s watercolors to capture the scene. Captain Scott kept the steamship within view of the shore as they neared Acapulco and its snug harbor. The city looked like it had been scooped out of the mountains surrounding it, with a high rocky island at the mouth of the bay. The city sat between the foot of the mountains and a long, thin shore. White adobe houses dotted the hills. Above the city was the ancient, star-shaped El Fuerto de San Diego, gleaming in the morning sun.

 

The water was smooth as glass as the captain anchored the ship among a dozen or so ships in the harbor and raised the flag. Heavily laden barges with coal, water and fresh provisions soon met the California to restock the ship’s hull. Large canoes, selling fresh fruit and water, followed to allow passengers ashore for a short visit.

 

“Eight hours, ladies and gentlemen. Eight hours, and no more. We will pull anchor at eight bells, four o’clock, whether you are on board or not.”

 

Adam and his friends were determined to see the town and climbed aboard a canoe. They stopped at a "fouda," or eating-house, just off the beach and under the shade of palm trees, where they enjoyed a breakfast of coffee, chocolate, eggs, and rolls. Sated, they headed into the town to the plaza and the market.

 

By ten o’clock in the morning the market was bustling with merchants and customers. The sleepy port had come alive in the last few years with the steamship traffic headed to and from the gold fields. Besides the regular commerce for food and household supplies, a tourist trade was blossoming. Market stands sold souvenir crafts and shells. Adam bought some shells for his brothers and bright kerchief for his father. Caroline bought a flowered shawl. Junius bought cigars.

 

“Do you what I want?,” Caroline asked. “I want to take off my shoes and walk on the beach.”

 

“I want to wiggle my toes in the warm sand,” Adam continued.

 

“I want to roll up my trousers and walk into the waves,” Edwin said with a grin.

 

“It might be the last chance to stretch our legs for days,” Junius said, nodding. “I want to feel the sea breeze on my face,” Junius said.

 

“I want to take your arm and stroll for miles,” Sam said as he sidled up to Caroline. “Let’s go.”

 

They spent the next hour or so walking the length of the beach and playing in the waves. At the edge of the beach they discovered a path leading to a grove of orange trees and a cold mountain stream. While Caroline and Junius picked oranges and sat in the shade drinking fresh juice, Adam, Edwin and Sam enjoyed a cool swim in the clear water. They returned to the fouda for a late lunch and made it back to the steamship before eight bells.

 

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Early that evening a call from the quarterdeck was heard as a sister steamship was sighted in the bay. “The Panama! She’s coming in from San Francisco.” A cheer went up from passengers and crew alike. “The Panama! Hurrah!” Captain Scott fired the signal gun and soon the Panama dropped anchor within shouting distance of the California. Passengers lined the decks of the two steamships anxious for news of the others' journeys. They yelled across to each other as the steamships exchanged sacks of mail.

 

“Show us your gold!”

 

There were cheers as newly minted fortune holders lifted heavy burlap sacks to show the California-bound passengers their riches.

 

“Probably just potatoes,” Sam chuckled.

 

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Captain Scott kept the north bound steamship within sight of the Lower California rugged, craggy coast as they headed to San Francisco. In the late afternoon sun, the distant hills were a golden color. “Like they are ‘gold-plated’,” Sam remarked to Adam and Edwin. “Makes sense to me,” Sam grinned. “It’s the land of gold, they say.”

 

“Milk and honey, I heard,” Edwin joined in.

 

“More like fields of wild oats ripening,” Adam said.

 

“A fella can dream, Adam,” Sam teased. “You don’t have to be so literal.”

 

“I guess I’m getting anxious to get home and do something useful.”

 

“There’s plenty of time for that, my friend, a lifetime for that,” Sam said with a devilish grin. “Let’s fritter away some time at the card tables. There’s a twenty dollar coin burning a hole in my pocket. C’mon with us, Edwin. You’ll be our good luck charm.”

 

They entered the smoky stateroom and observed a few games, looking for a couple of openings at a table. As it neared dinner time Adam and Sam joined a game. Edwin was content to watch. He stood opposite his friends, leaning on a pole, studying the other players.

 

“You boys old enough to play?,” the grizzled dealer teased. “Wouldn’t want ya to go cryin’ to yer mamas if ya lose yer spendin’ money."

 

"We're good, sir," Sam said.

 

"You boys wanna drink," the dealer asked as he held up a bottle of whiskey. "It’s a friendly game. Dollar ante.”

 

“Just deal me a hand,” Sam said shaking his head. He watched the swift hands of the dealer shuffle the cards. The other players watched Sam take up his cards and frown. “I pass.”

 

Adam looked at his hand and tossed a coin into the pot.

 

The pot doubled and tripled as cards were discarded and dealt again. Players raised and dropped out and the last bet was five dollars. It was now a thirty dollar pot as Adam and the dealer faced each other. Edwin was amused at his friend’s performance. Calm, stoic poker face, easy, even breathing. He caught Adam’s glance and still he did not reveal his luck. The dealer watched Edwin’s reaction. He was as enigmatic as Adam.

 

“I fold, kid. Whatta ya got?”

 

“Two pairs,” Adam said as he showed his hand. “Sevens and jacks.”

 

“Dammit!” The dealer slammed his hand on the table. He had three tens. He poured a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp.

 

The next game another player had the better hand. In the third game the pot rose to sixty dollars. Adam watched the mood grow quiet at the table as he carefully played his cards. His hand was excellent but he hesitated as he matched the last bet and raised it another three dollars.

 

“Make it ten, son,” the dealer said as he pushed his money to the center of the table.

 

Adam nodded. “And ten more.”

 

Sam folded, as did the others. It was a two man rematch. The pot was now a hundred dollars. He could buy a horse and saddle and lots of supplies for the ranch with that amount. The dinner bell rang and broke the tension.

 

“I raise you twenty,” the dealer said, glaring at Adam. He tossed his money in.

 

Adam pulled a coin from the stack in front of him. He looked at his cards a final time and put them face down on the table. He slowly added the coin to the pot. "I call. Previous engagement, I’m afraid,” Adam explained. He turned his cards face up to reveal a full house, three queens and a pair of nines.

 

“I thought I had ya this round," the dealer said as he wiped his brow. "Must be comin’ down with a bout of fever to let a punk kid like you best me.”

 

Adam stood and gathered his winnings. He tipped his hat to the table.

 

“I'll be here after dinner. Let me win my money back from ya,” the dealer said with a sneer.

 

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"You should have seen him, father," Edwin said. "He's a real actor."

 

“How much did you win, Adam?” Junius asked at dinner.

 

“With the game from the other night, I have about two hundred dollars.”

 

Junius met the captain’s disapproving gaze. Back in Panama, Captain Scott had asked Adam to steer Sam away from the gambling tables and was disappointed in Adam's interest in cards.

 

“They’re setting you up for a loss, son,” Captain Scott cautioned. “They’ve let you play and win enough to think you’ve got a lucky streak going. They’re counting on you three coming back tonight.”

 

“And your luck will turn,” Junius frowned. “Best play it safe tonight, boys.”

 

“Let’s all retire to the quarterdeck,” Captain Scott said directing his words to Adam. Adam cringed at the captain's scowl so like his father's. “We’ll have dessert served there as we pass Santa Catalina Island. There are thousands of wild goats you can see on the cliffs. There are just enough clouds to make a pretty sunset.”

 

Caroline smiled sweetly to encourage Sam, Edwin and Adam to join her. The trio acquiesced and headed with the others to the quarterdeck.

 

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The steamship stopped in Monterey late the next morning.   It was to be a quick refueling stop.  Everyone on deck was anxious to see the former capital.  A round of cheers went up when they spied the American flag on top of the customs house.   San Francisco was only two days away. 

 

Boats were loaded with freight to deliver to the city.  Adam and Sam were stunned to see a piano off loaded, no doubt for some new millionaire.  The boats returned with coal, water, food and freight for San Francisco.   More boats carried passengers to shore. They were ending their journey here. 

 

Adam and Sam noted the unlucky dealer as one of those leaving.   They grinned and headed to the gambling tables.   The captain would be busy for hours and they could escape his scrutiny while they played cards on last time.  The previous evening they talked while they lay in their hammocks.  They would pool their money and would split their winnings or losses.    Lady luck smiled on them one last time.  They walked away from the tables as the steamship pulled anchor and sailed from Monterey. 

 

“A thousand dollars,” Sam whistled as they emptied their pockets.  He counted five hundred dollars and gave it to Adam.  “On my honor, I will never gamble again.”  Adam’s eyebrows rose in skepticism.  “Well, at least, not with my money and not at poker.”

 

Adam considered his windfall.  He had over seven hundred dollars in his hands. It was nearly a year’s profit for the ranch.   He could buy a breeding mare or a bull and still have funds to improve the ranch. 

 

Sam waved his hand in front of Adam’s face.  “Wake up, my friend, I have a proposition for you.”

 

“We can’t go back to the tables, Sam.  You just swore you wouldn’t gamble.”

 

“I did swear and it’s not card games that I have in mind.  Sit down.”

 

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like what you say,” Adam sighed.

 

“Adam, I don’t think I ever told you exactly why I’m going to San Francisco.”

 

“I assumed you mean to make your fortune like almost everyone on this ship.”

 

“Well, there’s seeking your fortune by mining for gold, and the odds are against you,” Sam said.  “And then there’s stacking the deck in your favor.”

 

“So, you won’t gamble but you want me to gamble.”

 

“No, use your head, or at least your Harvard education, you cynic.    I was offered a job with the Wells Fargo Company in San Francisco.   It’s a new company, a bank that buys and sells gold and trades stock in New York.  I’m going to California as a banker.”

 

“A banker?”

 

“Yes, I’m a banker.  I know how to calculate financial risk.  I’m good at it.  And I aim to be a partner in the Wells Fargo Company one day soon.”

 

“You want me to hand you my money.”

 

“Indeed, I do.   I want you to trust me and I’ll make you money for your investment.”

 

Adam pulled at his ear.  “My pa could use that money.  I could pay him back for my education.”

 

“You could split it.  Give me three hundred fifty dollars to invest.   I guarantee you that in three years you will have a thousand dollars.”

 

“Guaranteed?”

 

“If you don’t at least double your money, you can withdraw it and take any profit you make.  If you lose money, I will refund it.”

 

“Sam, I don’t know.  I could add to the herd, maybe improve the stock with a bull.”

 

“Dream big, Adam.  This country is changing at a furious pace.   Millionaires are made in the mines of California every day.  They’re gonna need banks and they’ll want to earn money without working hard.  They’ll want to invest in stock markets.  They’ll need freight services for bringing fancy things, like pianos, from faraway places to their mansions.”

 

“Guaranteed,” Adam repeated.

 

“Guaranteed,” Sam said and they shook hands on it.

 

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They lingered at the dinner table the last night of the voyage.  It would likely be the last time they would gather together.  Junius Booth rose to toast his companions. “To the success of my sons and my near sons,” he raised his glass in the direction of Adam and Sam, “and to Caroline, as close as a daughter to me.”  She beamed.

 

“Aye,” Captain Scott seconded.  “Now tell me where you all will be in ten years.”

 

“I will be retired with my beloved Mary Ann at our farm in Maryland,” Junius said.  “I will be fat and happy and the sire of America’s acting dynasty.”  He winked at Edwin. 

 

“I will be my father’s successor to the title of America’s finest Shakespearean,” Edwin boasted.  “And the toast of London as well as New York!  Caroline, will you be my Ophelia?”

 

“For a time, Edwin, but I mean to marry rich and have my own theater in California.  You can come and act there when you are famous,” Caroline said.

 

“Well, I will be a wealthy businessman with a house high on the hill.  I’ll have a seat on the stock exchange, and a pretty wife and a passel of children,” Sam said confidently.  “Adam will be one of my most successful clients.”

 

“Adam, your turn,” Caroline said squeezing his hand.

 

“I’ll start for him. The Ponderosa will be the biggest ranch east of the Rockies,” Edwin began.

 

Adam nodded in reply. 

 

“But his efforts will not be confined to the ranch, he’ll use his talents in political influence and aid in the development of the Nevada Territory.  Maybe he’ll be governor of a new state,” Sam predicted.

 

Adam tugged at his ear and shook his head. 

 

“He’ll use that education that he worked so hard to earn, I know that,” Junius said to him.  “I ask that you remain a friend to my Edwin.”

 

“Of course,” Adam said softly.

 

Caroline took his hand in hers and frowned.  “This pesky wavering heart line still bothers me.  You’ll find true love one day, my dear Adam, but not until your heart’s been broken several times.”

 

“If it is true that ‘A man is known by the company he keeps’, then I have fame and fortune enough for a lifetime this evening.”  He stood and raised his glass to his companions.  “To my friends, may your hopes and dreams come true.”

 

“Here, here!” Sam and Edwin cheered.  Caroline kissed his hand.

 

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November 1875

 

“Was it the last time you saw each other as a group?” Joe asked.

 

Edwin stretched and paused a moment before he replied.  “There was one last evening, the first performance at the Jenny Lind Theatre.  Father was livid that my brother had inserted us in a revue of dancing girls and ham actors.  Caroline and I did our Romeo and Juliet excerpt and father did his Iago.”

 

Adam continued. “Sam and I stood off stage watching. At the curtain call, there rose a cheer throughout the theater.  Junius introduced Edwin and Caroline and then, as an encore, he began to recite,

 

            All the world’s a stage

            And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages

 

It was the last I ever saw of him.” 

 

“You kept your promise to remain my friend,” Edwin said.  Adam raised his glass to Edwin and nodded.   “Over twenty five years.”

 

Sara stood and kissed Edwin’s cheek.  “Good night, sweet prince.”

 

The waiter stifled a yawn and began to clear the table as the friends headed home.

 

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Postscript for the characters based on historical persons:

 

A disappointed Junius Booth sailed for home in October 1852.  The troupe had performed at the Jenny Lind Theater in San Francisco for four sold out weeks.   They met with less success in Sacramento and returned in September to San Francisco, at the Adelphi Theater, where they performed Richard III, Othello and Hamlet.   Theirs was the last engagement before the theater was converted into city hall.  Junius could find no suitable theaters to tempt him to continue his stay.  He encouraged Edwin to remain to learn the art of acting free of his father’s coattails.  He had grown weary of performing.  He gave his Richard III crown to Junius Junior, saying he would no longer need it.

 

Junius traveled back across Panama and took a ship to New Orleans, where he appeared on stage for six performances before he boarded a Mississippi headed to Cincinnati.  Sadly he caught cold which rapidly worsened.  With no doctor on board, his illness was left untreated and he died before reaching Cincinnati.  It was a death that haunted Edwin the rest of his life.

 

Edwin followed his father’s advice and stayed in California and honed his craft.  He was hired first by D. W. Waller, a contemporary of his father, to act as Iago on a tour of Nevada (I smell a sequel!). He joined several troupes including his brother’s touring company.  He remained in California until 1854 when he toured Hawaii, Tahiti and Australia with Laura Keene (who’s company was performing Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theatre the night that Lincoln was assassinated).  He returned to California and stayed until 1856, when he finally sailed back to the east coast.  Edwin Booth rose through the ranks of the acting profession and was considered America’s leading Shakespearean tragedian by 1861. 

 

Caroline Chapman played opposite both Junius and Edwin Booth.  She was a versatile actress who appeared in both tragedies and comedies.  She sang and danced in burlesques in a skit called, the Spy-Dear dance.  She even engaged in a feud with a rival burlesque performer.  Time was not kind to the real Caroline Chapman.  She died in 1876, old before her time, and forgotten.  For the sake of fan fiction, let’s say she married the wholly fictional Sam and they lived happily ever after.

 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

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