My Husband Forced Me Out When His Father Struck Me at His 1864 Banquet — He Didn't Know I Secretly Owned Their Iron Dynasty
The next morning, armed with Tobias’s findings and a renewed sense of purpose, I made my way to the War Department building. The halls buzzed with uniformed officers and hurried clerks, the air thick with the scent of wool and urgency. My target was Major Montgomery Drake.
He was a man cut from stone, known for his rigid adherence to protocol and his unwavering duty to the Union Army. He knew nothing of Eleanor Endicott, the socialite who had disgraced her powerful family. He only knew Major Drake, the logistics officer responsible for ensuring artillery deliveries to the front lines.
I presented myself at his office, a plain civilian requesting an urgent review of current war materiel allocations. His aide looked skeptical, but my quiet insistence, coupled with a perfectly drafted summary of concerns provided by Tobias, got me through the door.
Major Drake sat behind a large, uncluttered desk, his uniform pressed, his gaze sharp and unyielding. He listened without interruption as I, carefully coached by Tobias, explained discrepancies in Endicott Ironworks’ reported stock.
“Major,” I said, pointing to a column in my copy of the foundry’s shipping manifest, “this particular railcar, loaded with heavy artillery casings, is authorized for shipment to Petersburg, Virginia.”
He nodded, reviewing his own copy. “Correct. Due to depart tomorrow morning.”
“However,” I continued, “the internal stock authorizations for this specific batch of iron,” I tapped a different line, “they seem to be missing. Under federal wartime laws, specifically General Order No. 127 of 1863, any materiel not fully authorized by the War Department is subject to immediate impoundment.”
He stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he re-read the relevant section of the regulations I had highlighted. “Impoundment for audit,” he murmured, his brow furrowed. “To ensure against diversion or unauthorized sales.”
“Precisely,” I confirmed. “Given the urgency of Petersburg, any delay in proper paperwork could indicate a serious security breach, or even an attempt to divert crucial supplies.”
Major Drake slammed his fist softly on the desk, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet office. “Unacceptable!”
He rose, moving with swift, military precision. “I will not tolerate any impediment to our soldiers. Endicott Ironworks is a primary supplier. These anomalies must be investigated immediately.”
He barked orders to his aide, a flurry of activity erupting. “Dispatch a company of military police to the Baltimore rail yards. Impound all railcars marked with Endicott Foundry manifests due for Petersburg. Hold them for full audit.”
The aide saluted crisply and dashed out.
I watched, a tremor running through me. Major Drake, completely unaware of the domestic drama or the marital dispute, had just acted instantly on a perceived breach of duty. He had cut off Silas Endicott’s primary supply line to the northern shipyards, using the full, unthinking force of the Union Army.
Silas would be furious. And for the first time in years, I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile.
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