Authors: Shannon Farrington
Sally gave her a measured look. "No more lace?"
Julia shook her head. "I'll tell them what happened."
She nodded without question. "Julia has suggested that we return to Trudy's idea and make socks for our soldiers," she said.
The girls all looked at Julia.
"Are you sure?" Emily asked.
"Yes." A lump was growing in the back of her throat. She tried to swallow it back. "Our men need our support. It is the least we can do."
Trudy nodded gravely. "Our brother George left last night for Virginia. I want him to know that we are thinking of him." Her eyes teared up.
Everyone in the room felt the emotion.
Elizabeth shook her head in agreement. "And today is a good day to do so. Rebekah isn't here and we don't have to hear her complain."
"Do you think she will come back?" Emily asked.
Sally shrugged. "I don't know. Time will tell."
"But Julia," Trudy said. "What about your lace?"
Julia drew in a deep breath and pressed forward.
"There isn't a need for it now because there isn't going to be a wedding."
A gasp went up around the room.
She hastened to explain. Though disappointed, the others offered their sympathy and support.
"I would never have guessed Samuel would side with the Federal Army, not after you were attacked on Pratt Street," Emily said.
"You are a good sister," Trudy said, "standing by your brother. I would be honored to knit socks for his regiment."
"Thank you."
The subject closed and the ladies went to work. Knitting needles clicked all afternoon long. Julia counted every stitch as a prayer for Edward's victory and for Stephen and George, as well.
Watch over them, Lord and please bring them home soon.
S
am stared at the address in his hand then at the small, unimpressive building across the street. It was red brick with crooked black shutters, not much different than the rest of the buildings on the street. Fell's Point was a working class district, full of shipyards and factories. Frederick Douglass himself had once worked in this part of town. Sam thought about how the man had compared his city enslavement with his experiences on the eastern shore plantations. He had said that a slave's life in Baltimore was much improved. That they were almost freemen.
Almost,
Sam thought.
And yet, still slaves for life.
Though he had read of the horrors of field life, he still could not fully grasp the hardship of why someone would say city enslavement was the better of the two. The workers who passed Sam on the street, both white and Negro looked weary and worn out from their labors.
Sam crossed the street, not knowing what or whom he would find in the dilapidated structure before him. He knocked on the front door. After a moment it opened partially.
An old woman, dressed fully in black, stared shrewdly
at him. The doorway offered her a measure of protection from the stranger who had knocked upon it.
Sam hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome but neither had he expected such suspicion.
"I am a friend of Dr. Carter," he hastened to say.
A smile broke on her lined face and immediately her tone changed. "The young man from the seminary!"
He tipped his hat. "Yes, ma'am."
She pulled back the door, wide. "Come. Thee are welcome inside."
He knew immediately by her words that she was a Quaker.
Once inside the parlor she introduced herself as Mrs. Eli Jordan and said that her husband was a minister.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Sam said.
"It is a pleasure to meet thee."
Sam followed Mrs. Jordan through the house to the kitchen. It was there that Dr. Carter and a handful of others were gathered. Excluding Mrs. Jordan there was one woman and three men. Sam stared at the grim-faced lot. They brightened only when Dr. Carter assured them he had invited Sam to join them.
Dr. Carter turned back to Sam. "I am so pleased that you have decided to join us. You must forgive our rather cold reception. We must be careful of strangers."
"I understand," Sam said, though he was still wondering what he had gotten himself into.
"Please," said Dr. Carter. "Have a seat." He turned to the white-haired gentleman at the head of the table. "Eli, will you give dear Samuel an idea of what our purpose is?"
Eli was none other than the minister husband of Mrs. Jordan. Sam took a seat next to the man.
"Our purpose here," the minister said, "is to bring glory to God."
Sam was taken aback slightly. He had expected, "abolish slavery, educate others on its evil' but the answer the preacher had given was unexpectedly simple.
"God created all men in His image," Eli said. "It is our duty as His servants to declare His message of love."
Sam liked what he was hearing and his fear of associating with harsh temperaments like Warren Meade or radicals such as John Brown was quickly fading.
"If I may ask, sir," he said. "How do you go about spreading this message of love?"
The old preacher smiled kindly, his face a roadmap of miles and years of service for his Lord. "Perhaps I should defer to Mr. Phillips here." He motioned to the man on his right. Sam learned that this man was a city lawyer.
"There are many ways to spread God's message," Mr. Phillips said, "and many avenues of service to choose. We are not all represented here today. There are many of us."
"There are?" Sam said, wondering just how large this group was.
The lady beside him smiled. She was dressed a bit more colorfully than Mrs. Jordan. Her name was Grace Wilkerson.
"We are, as you may wish to call us, a confederation of servants," she said.
"All with the same goal," Phillips said. "There are those who pray. Those who write articles, who speak out publicly against the injustices of slavery. There are those who petition our government for change."
The old preacher leaned forward in his chair. "And then there are those who answer but to God's authority."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
Dr. Carter explained. "He means that there are many legal ways in which one can assist in the dismantling of slavery and then there are ways that are not legal according to the law of the land."
Sam was familiar with the Underground Railroad. He had met those in Philadelphia who had assisted in the escape of slaves.
"You mean conductors and station masters?"
Dr. Carter smiled. "You are familiar with the terms."
"Somewhat," Sam said.
"Then you know what difficulties those assisting runaways may face."
"Difficulties now made even more so by the presence of so many soldiers in our city," Grace added.
"You understand," Mr. Phillips said, "that these soldiers
must
enforce the state and local laws."
Sam knew what he was getting at. Slavery was legal in Maryland. Until that law was changed, the Federal soldiers were obligated to protect slaveholders' rights.
Anyone violating such would face the army's wrath.
"I understand, sir."
Julia's face, pale and frightened when the soldiers approached the table, flashed through his mind. Sam pushed the thought away. God's path had led him thus far to this meeting. He would give these people his undivided attention.
"There are other needs, as well," Phillips pointed out, just in case the prospect of sneaking slaves into Pennsylvania was too much for Sam to consider. "Many that we meet are dreadfully malnourished, sick, beaten. They need the attention of a caring physician. One who could be trusted. They need food to sustain them."
"Our station masters share what they have, of course," Eli said, "but extra food would go a long way."
"Yes," Mrs. Wilkerson said. "We can do more
with
more."
Sam thought of Julia again, of her need to bake. Shared bread could mean the difference between life and death for a runaway.
"You have certainly given me much to consider," he said to those gathered around the table.
Eli nodded. "Consider well thy service for the Lord. Follow the path that He has chosen only for thee."
The path God has chosen.
Sam inwardly sighed. He appreciated the fact that those around the table did not try to persuade him into taking actions that the present law deemed illegal.
He couldn't help but wonder how many in this room had actual contact with runaways. Had they personally stared into the dark eyes of a trembling slave and offered God's comfort and love? Did he have the courage to do the same?
"Come then," Eli said. "Let us pray for this young man and for countless others like him."
They clasped hands. The old man looked at Sam.
"Fear not," he said. "The Lord Almighty will guide your footsteps."
Sam left the meeting that day without clear direction for his course but he had the faith that God would soon reveal his part in all of it.
And as for Julia and her part, he would continue to pray.
"
I should be happy,
she told herself yet Julia walked home from the sewing circle that day with a great
heaviness in her heart.
I am doing what I wished. I am serving my city and my brother at the same time.
Yet the bread for the prayer meeting and the knitting for Edward's regiment weren't enough. She didn't understand why. She told herself it was because she missed her brother and that was all.
I will write him tonight and tell him about the prayer meeting, of the news from the sewing circle.
She told her parents, as well, when they sat down to supper that evening.
"We are making socks for Edward's regiment," Julia explained.
They both smiled.
"You girls are performing a wonderful service," her mother said.
"Yes." Her father then added, "Useful, too. It is important that soldiers keep their feet dry."
"Keeping busy will help pass the time until he returns," her mother said.
Julia was determined to do just that. When they had finished the meal she cleared away the dishes. When all the evening tasks were complete, Julia went to the study. She sat down at the desk and took out several sheets of paper from the drawer. She dipped her pen in ink and began to write.
Dear Edward'¦
She wrote of how she missed him but also told him how proud she was of his enlistment.
You are standing up for what you believe. Your actions give the rest of us courage.
She told him that their parents were well and that the weather had been warm. She told him about the prayer meeting.
Each day someone is praying for you.
Samuel's words drifted through her mind.
I pray daily for his safety.
She pushed the thought away. She did not tell her brother about that conversation. In fact, she had not written anything about Samuel at all. She did not know how to express all she was feeling in just a few lines.
When Edward writes, if he asks about him, then I will try and explain.
She closed her letter with a prayer then sealed the envelope. She placed it in the desk drawer along with the others she had written. Even if Edward was unable to write for several days, Julia could send hers. She would take her letters to Sally's house in the morning.
"
Saturday was Julia's favorite day of the week. The family rose later than usual and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. All but the necessary housework was saved for Monday. Unless there was an emergency, her father was home. He often took the family on an outing. Since there was no prayer meeting scheduled for today, they would have the entire day.
Over a plate of eggs and ham, Dr. Stanton decided to take Julia and her mother shopping.
"I was thinking we would go down to Madam Fontine's and see about a new ball gown."
Julia was excited. She could tell her mother was, as well; but did not wish to be as free with the finances as her husband.
"Oh, I don't really need a new dress, Thomas, but thank you. My plum-colored gown is just fine." She smiled. "I am sure Julia would like to have one though."
He looked at his daughter. "Would you now?"
"Oh, yes! Thank you!"
He winked at her and his gray-streaked mustache
lifted with a smile. "Perhaps we can talk your mother into picking out a new bonnet."
"Yes," Julia added. "You can wear it to the train station when Edward returns home."
"That's a wonderful idea," he said. "Don't you think so, Esther?"
With a fond smile she took away her husband's empty plate. "I pray that day will come soon."
"Speaking of Edward," said Julia. "I have some letters for him. May we stop at Sally's house on our way shopping?"
"Of course."
She hurried to dress and twist up her hair. Then they started off.
Overcast skies covered the city but it did not spoil Julia's mood. Her parents waited in the carriage as she opened the front gate to the Hastings's home. A warm breeze caused the garden flowers to nod, so much so that it appeared the irises were bowing as she passed by.
You are the Belle of Mount Vernon,
she remembered Samuel saying once,
and the queen of my heart.
She brushed the memory aside as a housewife would a pesky fly then walked toward the front porch. The imminent shopping trip and the letters she carried in her dress pocket put a spring in her step. One letter in particular quickened her walk.
She had promised Sally that she would not mention a word of her true feelings for Edward but that wouldn't keep Julia from writing about her. She had written about the latest news of hearth and home but then took great care in describing the new dress that Sally was working on.
She told Edward how beautiful her friend was going to
look in it and how all of the eligible beaux of Baltimore would be clamoring to dance with her at the next ball.
If I can provoke a jealous thought or two in Edward's brain then perhaps it will encourage a little romance when he returns.
Sally would be mortified if she knew she was the main subject of the letter but if Julia's ploy worked, she would thank her in the end. The result would be worth the risk.
Absorbed in her plot, she bounced up the front steps. Before Julia could knock on the door, however, it swung open wide. There stood Sally, an uncomfortable expression on her face. For a split second, Julia couldn't help but wonder if her friend knew the extent of her secret mission.
"Good afternoon," Julia said slowly.
"Good afternoon." Sally craned her neck, glancing up the street as though she were searching for someone.
"Is something wrong?" Julia asked.
"No. You just missed him, that's all."
She didn't need to ask who, she already knew. Samuel had been here. Julia heaved a sigh. For a split second, she felt a small measure of disappointment.
Sally motioned her inside then shut the door behind them. "He brought a letter for Edward."
Her disappointment immediately dispersed and the lightheartedness she felt carrying Edward's letters grew into a fierce protectiveness. What had Samuel written? How would Edward respond when he received it?
Julia scolded herself, her anger building.
I should have explained to Edward about our broken engagement. I don't want to give him any reason for questioning my loyalty. I must write and explain fully at the first opportunity.
"He also brought your bread tray," Sally said, breaking into her thoughts. "He said you left it at church."