Glory Over Everything (47 page)

“Robert,” I said, “forgive me. I was wrong. You were right. Whatever comes, we will take the children. All three of them. They are my responsibility. But I will need your help. Can I count on you for that?”

He stood. “Mr. Burton, I did not give you my resignation. I am still at your service as long as you require my help.”

Though it clearly made him uncomfortable, I grasped his hand in both of mine. “Thank you, Robert! For . . . for everything you have done for me,” I said, and this time it was my voice that quavered.

M
Y DECISION TO
leave as quickly as possible was motivated not only by my need to escape Mrs. Madden's company but also my desire to return home. I had Robert locate and hire two drivers for our carriage that same day. When I went for supper with the women, Robert made the necessary preparations for our small party to leave in the morning.

As we enjoyed our evening meal, I told the two women of my donation to the school and of how they could count on my continued support. Naturally, they expressed deep gratitude, but then I took a deep breath. “I will not go into unnecessary detail, but I am pleased to say that there has been a change in circumstance and I am now free to return to my home in Philadelphia.”

Miss Elly gasped aloud when I announced my decision to take my daughter with me. Unable to contain her tears, she left the room at a run.

“She will see the wisdom in time. After all, you are Caroline's father,” Miss Meg said. Though her eyes had filled, too, she retained her composure.

“I am so grateful for everything you have done,” I said, “but might I ask one more favor of you?”

“Certainly,” she said.

“I have a package that I need delivered to Belle, and I do not trust it to the post,” I said. “When you travel down for the wedding, would you give it to her?”

She graciously agreed, and I went quickly to my room and returned with the parcel.

“This has great monetary as well as sentimental value,” I said.

“Then it will not leave my side until it is in Belle's hands,” she promised. I didn't explain that the package contained a boy's jacket with jewelry sewn into the seams. Neither did I tell Miss Meg that the contents included a letter I had written that afternoon.

Dear Belle,

I have only recently discovered the circumstances of my conception. To know that you cared for me in spite of the cruelty you suffered argues that the goodness in humanity can survive through the most difficult challenges.

Only recently have I come to acknowledge that I have been living a life of fear. I was driven by hatred for those of the colored race, instilled in me from a grandmother I loved and a society that supports her beliefs.

I once considered the Negro unfeeling and mindless, closer to an animal than a human being. I have since come to know the true Negro; I have seen the bravery and superior intelligence that it takes for one of color to survive under the cruelest of conditions. Though I still puzzle at my place in all of this, I hope that I have inherited the kindness and strength of your good spirit.

I do not know for certain what my future holds, but I believe that I will continue to live as a white man. Certainly it is the easiest path, though I now have two Negro children in my charge. I plan to raise and care for them as I would my own. How that will play out remains to be seen.

There is a third child, my biological daughter and your granddaughter. She is blond and blue-eyed, and though she has been known as Caroline, from today forward, she will be called Belle.

We both know why I will not travel to see you, but if you would consider a visit, or if you wish to come for a permanent stay, you have but to tell me and I will arrange the accommodations.

Lastly, I am enclosing the jacket with the jewels that you gave me on my departure. Two of the items are missing, but the use of each was invaluable to me. Thank you for this generous gift. Be assured that I no longer have need of it.

I do not look at the jacket without remembering the moment you handed it to me. You stood back and waited for some expression of my caring. I apologize for my inability to thank you as you should have been thanked. You gave me life, Mother, and there is no greater gift. I thank you now.

Your son,

James

I
AWOKE JUST
as the sun was rising and went to the window to look out on what promised to be a clear day. Below my window, a young boy was seated on the front mounting stone; from his jutting ears, I recognized Pan. Beside him was a small brown bundle that must have included his few possessions, and next to him was a birdcage that was almost the size of the boy. With a jolt of joy, I realized that Robert had somehow kept Malcolm with us.

Because we had an early-morning meal, I was able to escape another encounter with Mrs. Madden, although both Miss Meg and Miss Elly were present. I tried to ease Caroline's departure by telling them that I would expect, at a minimum, a yearly visit from them.

When we waved goodbye, our vehicle was again filled to capacity, and the din inside was deafening, with both babies crying and Malcolm screeching his discontent. Pan raised his hands to his ears. I had him cover Malcolm's cage, and thankfully, the upset bird, after some final squawks, was silenced. I lifted Kitty from the basket and asked that she be fed; the nurse, holding Caroline, said she must be attended to first. I immediately decided that as soon we reached Philadelphia, Kitty would have her own wet nurse.

We traveled on, and after Caroline was fed, I reached for her. Again she took one look at me and began to howl.

“Here, sir, give her to me,” Robert said, holding his arms out. “Now, now, sweet child, your Robert is here,” he soothed. On recognizing his adoring face, she settled and soon smiled, as did I to see Robert so smitten.

W
E HAD BEEN
traveling under an hour and but for the creaking of the wagon, all was finally quiet. On leaving Williamsburg, we had passed a surprising amount of incoming traffic, yet now we were quite alone. I was not surprised that Pan was dozing after I learned he had been seated at the curbside since daybreak.

I watched him sleep, his head resting against Malcolm's covered cage. What might have happened to him had Sukey not intervened? I thought again of how she had saved my life, then remembered those in the swamp who had saved us. I was thinking again of Peg and how she had sacrificed her goat, when our horses began to slow and one of the drivers shouted down, “Somethin' fast comin' up from behind!”

Robert and I exchanged a look of concern. “Pick up the pace!” I called to the driver, and we surged ahead.

I had seen to it that both drivers were armed, so we weren't as vulnerable as we had been a few days previous, but we were still in a slave state. Was it possible that I was yet being pursued?

We were traveling so quickly that when our large carriage hit a pothole, it tilted and swayed dangerously. Intending to instruct the driver to slow down, I removed my hat and stretched my head out the window. Before I called up to the driver, I glanced back to see what I could. Through the thick dust stirred up from our wheels, I saw a small open gig gaining on us. But it was the driver's black hair fanning out and the purple and green bonnet she waved that gave me recognition.

“Stop the carriage!” I called, then turned to Robert while laughing aloud in disbelief. “It's Adelaide Spencer!”

Robert's scowl did not hide his feelings.

We were rolling to a stop when I hopped out to greet Adelaide as she reined in her lathered horse. “Mr. Burton! How could you have forgotten about me?” she cried. “You didn't even come to say goodbye!”

She winced when I lifted her down from atop her gig, even as I saw another rider approaching in the distance.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked. Concerned, I lightly touched her injured arm.

“It is healed,” she said, jerking back.

“Forgive me, Miss Adelaide,” I said. “I meant to come see you before I left, but unexpected circumstances called me away. I was going to write you a letter.”

She tilted her head away, insulted. “A letter!” she exclaimed in disgust.

More drastic measures were called for. I took her hand and spoke earnestly. “Forgive me, Miss Spencer. You must know that I am forever in your debt.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Indeed?”

“Most certainly!”

“Surely, then, a final visit was in order.”

I glanced off to see the other rider fast approaching.

She noted it as well and sighed. “It is my uncle. It's a wonder he didn't kill himself on that horse. And his death would have been on you, Mr. Burton, for having forgotten me!”

“Miss Adelaide, I assure you that I did not forget you. Unfortunately, an emergency has presented itself and I am rushing back to Philadelphia. My child's grandfather is quite ill.”

“He is dying?” she asked.

“I'm afraid that might be the case.”

“But you were going to write a letter?” she asked.

“A very long one.”

“And you still intend to do so?” she asked.

“Adelaide Spencer!” the rider called out on his approach. “Your father will hear about this!”

Adelaide pushed back her tangled hair and tied on her hat as the obese man tried to gain control of his frothing horse. I went to him and held the reins so he might dismount.

Panting heavily, he slid from his horse. Adelaide ran a few steps toward him to scoop his hand up in hers. “Uncle, dear, I am so sorry! I didn't mean for you to follow. Yet how fortunate! You now have the opportunity to meet the famous artist Mr. James Burton.”

“Young lady!” he began.

“Don't be angry,” she stated. She touched her pink cheek to his gloved hand. “I had some final words for Mr. Burton, and you know what I am like. When my mind is made up, there is no turning back. It can't be helped, Uncle! Surely you understand? I am so like you. It is our nature.”

As was wont to happen in Adelaide's presence, the man was left speechless, and she turned back to me. “We will meet again, Mr. Burton? Promise me!”

I gave her a quick bow and smiled. “We will meet again, Miss Spencer. I am sure of it.”

Cries were beginning to seep from the carriage, and with that as my excuse, I said my goodbyes before I vaulted back into the fray.

Our ride lurched forward, and as I settled back and studied our small group, I realized that I was surrounded by those who most mattered to me. Was caring for them, then, to be my purpose?

With Robert and the nurse each tending a baby, I looked to Pan staring quietly out the window. He was far removed from the effervescent boy I once knew and his silence troubled me. “Pan?” I said. “Aren't you happy to be returning home?”

Tears filled his eyes before he turned and leaned his forehead against Malcolm's cage.

“What is it?” I asked as I touched the boy's thin shoulder.

“I keep thinking about my daddy,” he cried.

“Of course you do,” I said, patting his shoulder. He straightened up to dry his face with his jacket sleeve, then sniffed so thoroughly that Robert handed him a handkerchief. Pan blew noisily, then passed the cloth back to Robert.

“You may keep that one,” Robert said, not unkindly. “Tuck it in your pants, and when we get home, we will get you set up with some of your own.” Pan did as he was told before he rested his head back against the seat. Still he looked pensive.

“Is something else troubling you?” I asked.

His large dark eyes met mine, but they were afraid. His chin wobbled as he held back tears. “What if they come looking for me? What if they take me again?” he whispered, as though afraid the words might give substance to his fear.

I was jolted by his words. Over the years he had won me over with his open and loving nature, but until this moment I had felt our lives had little in common. Now I recognized his terror and thought of how mine had wrongly affected so many of my choices. I would not let that happen to Pan. He would know security and love, regardless of the opinions of society.

I took some time to think it through before I spoke. “Pan,” I said, “I have a question for you.”

He took a deep quivering breath before he looked at me. “What, Mr. Burton?”

“I know that your father was unable to give you a last name because he did not have one of his own,” I said.

“That's 'cause he was a slave,” he said defensively.

“I know, Pan. But I was wondering, if I were to adopt you, would you consider taking mine?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“When you were stolen, I had no legal rights to you, but if I adopt you, no one can ever take you again. Your name would be Pan Burton.”

Pan was silent for a long while before he responded. “You mean you would take me for your own boy?”

“Yes, that is what I mean.”

“But I have a daddy.”

“And Henry will always be your father. He was a brave and good man, and my hope would be that one day you will be just like him.”

“But you are living white. How can you have a black chil'?”

I looked over to Robert for help. “I don't know yet, but we'll manage,” I said.

“How you gonna do that?” Pan asked.

“By overcoming one obstacle at a time,” Robert offered.

“What is a obstacle?” Pan asked.

“A difficulty—like a rock on a path that one must step around or over,” Robert interpreted.

“How about lifting it out of the way?” Pan asked.

Robert smiled when he nodded in agreement. “That, too, Pan. That, too.”

Pan glanced at Kitty resting peacefully in the arms of the nurse. “What about Kitty? Can she have your name, too, so they can never take her away?”

“What do you think, Robert?” I asked. “Can we do it? It will be quite a task to manage a household with three children.”