My Husband Forced Me Out When His Father Struck Me at His 1864 Banquet — He Didn't Know I Secretly Owned Their Iron Dynasty
A week later, deep in Washington, the chill of late October clung to the air. My days were spent moving between Clara’s quiet boarding house and the discreet offices of various lawyers, gathering information. I knew I needed more than just money and a ledger. I needed a crack in Silas’s iron-clad façade.
That crack came in the form of Tobias Wright.
I found him at the Society of Friends meeting house, a small, unassuming man with clear, unblinking eyes. He was a Quaker auditor in the War Procurement Office, known for his unyielding integrity, a quality that made him both respected and feared by those who profited from the war.
Our meeting was arranged by one of my newly retained, discreet attorneys, in a quiet study where sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The scent of old books and beeswax filled the room.
“Mr. Wright,” I began, my voice steady, “I believe General Endicott has been defrauding the Union Army.”
He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. He had already found discrepancies, small irregularities in the ledgers of Endicott Ironworks. He had seen the numbers for iron shipments that didn’t quite match the figures for artillery casings produced.
“The numbers for the January ’64 steel deliveries,” he said, his voice calm, “they’re short by over seven hundred tons for the Petersburg contract. Yet the government was billed for full delivery.”
My stomach clenched. “He under-delivered steel while overcharging the Union Army,” I finished, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
Tobias reached for a heavy leather-bound book, his fingers tracing a line of figures. “And the prices listed,” he continued, “nearly twenty percent higher than market rate.”
I then laid out the original 1858 land deeds, the ones from my reticule. The documents proved my family had provided 80% of the founding capital for Endicott Ironworks. I explained how Silas had systematically bled my father’s shipping firm dry before claiming the ironworks for himself.
Tobias listened, his expression unwavering, absorbing every word. His Quaker faith, a creed of pacifism, seemed at odds with his current role, yet his commitment to truth and honesty transcended all.
“The truth must be brought to light, Mrs. Endicott,” he said, his gaze meeting mine. “Regardless of where it leads.”
He agreed to review my land deeds in secret, to compare them against the official War Department records for Endicott Ironworks. His involvement was a crucial step, a direct line into the heart of Silas’s fraudulent operations.
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