Chapter Twenty-One
Carrie hugged herself excitedly as the train pulled into the Philadelphia station. She could hardly believe she was actually here! Her neck was sore from craning to see everything she could on the way up. She had been determined not to miss a thing. Now that she was actually here in Philadelphia, her excitement, if it was even possible, had increased even more. She grabbed her small overnight bag and stepped off the train, instantly mesmerized by the clamor assailing her.
“There’s Aunt Abby,” Natalie cried.
Carrie spun around and watched the middle-aged woman approaching them. She immediately liked the strong lines of her face and the erect way she carried herself. Taller than many of the men surrounding her, Aunt Abby made no effort to make herself seem smaller. Her confident bearing said she had nothing to feel awkward about. Soft brown hair pulled back into a bun framed a pair of startling, bright gray eyes. Her clothing spoke of her wealth.
“Hello, girls. Welcome to Philadelphia.” The voice greeting them was low and melodious, with a hint of humor lurking behind the even tones.
Carrie felt herself drawn to this woman, a complete stranger to her.
Natalie threw herself into her aunt’s arms. “Aunt Abby, it’s so wonderful to see you. I can hardly believe I’m here at last!”
Abby laughed as she gave the excited girl a huge hug. “It’s wonderful to have you here, Natalie.” Then she looked over her head. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked in an amused voice.
Natalie pulled back with a laugh. “That would be the proper thing to do, wouldn’t it?” She reached out and pulled Sally forward. “This is my best friend, Sally Hampton. And this is Carrie Cromwell.” She reached her other hand out and pulled Carrie into the circle. “She reminds me of you, Aunt Abby.”
Abby reached out a hand to both the girls, holding Carrie’s for a few moments after she had released Sally’s. “Why does she remind you of me, Natalie?”
Carrie looked into the woman’s eyes and knew she had found a friend. She didn’t know how to explain it. It was just a knowing that settled in her heart with surety. The older woman’s warm gray eyes sparkled with life and compassion, and Carrie knew instantly that great wisdom lurked behind the humor.
Natalie laughed. “Because she has crazy ideas like you do. She’s not at all like me and Sally. She’s always asking questions and always doing things none of the rest of us would even consider.”
“Is that true? Well then, Carrie Cromwell, you are most definitely welcome in Philadelphia.”
Carrie laughed along with the rest of them. She wasn’t offended by Natalie’s analysis. She knew it was true. The idea of being like Aunt Abby intrigued her. Suddenly, the most important thing on her mind was to get to know this woman better.
Carrie’s chance came two days later.
“Carrie, there’s a new art exhibit in town. We’re leaving in about thirty minutes.”
Carrie groaned and shook her head. “Not another art exhibit, Sally. We haven’t stopped for one minute since we’ve been here.”
“Well, of course not, silly. We may never be in Philadelphia again. I intend to make the most of it.”
“You and Natalie go ahead. I’m going to stay here and enjoy the Philadelphia skyline from my chair.” To emphasize her statement, Carrie walked over and sat down in the elegant rose-colored chair stationed by the tall window looking out on the street. She gazed for a moment at the clog of carriages before turning back to her friends. “I can think of nothing I would rather do than sit right here in this chair.”
Sally shrugged. “Help yourself. We’ll fill you in on all the handsome men you miss.”
Carrie had just opened a book she had chosen from the extensive library when Aunt Abby arrived home. She had insisted on all of them calling her Aunt Abby. She would have no formality in her home, she said.
“Carrie, did they abandon you?” Aunt Abby had been out to a meeting and probably anticipated the house being empty when she returned. She stood by the open window and seemed to enjoy the breeze blowing gently through the room. Summer had settled on the city with a vengeance.
“I was abandoned by choice, Aunt Abby. I hate cramming every second with activity. It gives you no time to savor what has already happened.”
Abby eyed her closely. “I believe Natalie was right. You and I are much alike.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Would you like some lemonade?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
In the kitchen, Aunt Abby poured two large glasses of cold lemonade.
“You don’t have servants?”
Abby looked up. “I have someone who comes in occasionally to cook and clean. I find I am perfectly capable of taking care of most of my work. All of it actually, if I weren’t so lazy at times,” she said with a chuckle. “Let’s move out to the porch to get some air.”
Carrie settled herself into one of the lounge chairs on the porch and took a moment to savor the breeze. “Is it very scary being on your own?” she asked.
Abby eyed her with amusement. “Planning on trying it yourself?”
Carrie flushed. “No. Yes. I mean... I don’t know.” Suddenly embarrassed, she stared at the floor, unsure of what to say next.
Abby leaned forward and put her hand on Carrie’s leg. “Tell me about yourself, Carrie. Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice was caring and compassionate.
Carrie looked up and managed a short laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’t know!” She gazed into Aunt Abby’s warm eyes and tried to pull her thoughts together. She very much wanted this woman to know her. “All I know is that I don’t fit where I am supposed to belong.” She paused and looked up again. Somehow she knew Aunt Abby wasn’t going to respond. Not yet. She would just listen for a while.
Carrie took a deep breath and told Aunt Abby of her increasing restlessness on the plantation and how she could not imagine spending her life there. “I feel I’ll burst if I have to live that life.”
“What is it you want, Carrie?” Abby asked.
“I want to be a doctor,” Carrie said. She leaned forward, suddenly nervous. “Do you think I’m quite crazy?”
“Do you?”
Carrie laughed loudly.
“Did I say something funny?”
Carrie shook her head, smiling. “You remind me of one of our slaves. Her name is Sarah. She’s always been like another mother to me. She likes to ask questions, too.”
“Do you mind questions?”
“Sometimes,” Carrie admitted. “But only when I’m afraid of what the answer may be. Then is the best time for questions, though, I suppose.”
Aunt Abby smiled. “It takes great courage to be honest when the honesty is pointed at yourself. I admire that.”
Carrie flushed again, this time with pleasure. “You asked me if I believe it’s crazy to want to be a doctor. The answer is no. I fear sometimes that it is impossible, but I believe I would be a good doctor. That’s one reason I’m here.”
“Oh?”
“My friend Robert has made arrangements for an old college friend of his to show me around the University of Pennsylvania campus, including the medical school.
Abby sat back and studied Carrie for a long moment. “You will face many disappointments and heartaches.”
“You sound as if you speak from experience.”
Abby shrugged. “Anyone who goes against the conventions of their time will experience heartache. People fear change, Carrie, and they fight the things they are afraid of. You are going against the age-old tradition of the South. Add to that the fear people have of women having dreams and ambitions of their own...” She spread her hands and smiled gently. “That is a recipe for disappointment and heartache.”
“I have to do it. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me—no matter how hard it is.”
Abby reached forward to take one of her hands. “I know, Carrie. And that is exactly why you’re going to do it. We only truly fight to make changes when we believe in those changes with all our heart. You have to want your dream badly enough to hold on through the rough times.” Abby looked off into the distance. “When my husband, Charles, died several years ago, it was expected I would return south to my family. I decided otherwise. Philadelphia is my home. My family implored me to return in order to maintain my respectability. The business world here was aghast when I decided to continue with my husband’s business. I was quite capable of running it, you know. It’s just that it wasn’t done. Many people worked against me to make the business fail—men who had been our friends before Charles died. I refused to go away, however, and finally they accepted me. It is still hard at times, but it’s worth it.” The last quiet words were spoken with a triumphant note.
Carrie looked at her with even greater admiration. “Thank you for telling me that.”
Abby laughed suddenly. “My goodness, dear, if we women fighting the tide don’t stand with each other, there is surely no hope.” She leaned forward and stared intensely into Carrie’s eyes. “Tell you what. There are many times you are going to find it difficult to believe in yourself. When you run into those times, try and believe in those who believe in you. I believe in you, Carrie. I believe you can make your dreams come true.”
Carrie stared into Aunt Abby’s eyes, her own filling with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned forward impulsively and gave the older woman a hug. “I knew you were going to be a friend.”
“Aren’t you girls ready yet?” Abby called up the stairs. “The dance is going to be over by the time we get there,” she teased.
“You don’t want us going out looking less than our best, do you Aunt Abby?” Natalie challenged as she floated down the stairs in her light-blue gown.
“I hardly think that is going to happen,” Aunt Abby said dryly. “I grew up in the South, remember? I know what a premium is placed on proper appearance.” Aunt Abby looked beautiful in a soft-gray gown that swept the floor and matched her eyes. She smiled. “All three of you look lovely. I believe these poor Northern gentlemen are going to be taken off guard.”
“I hope so,” Sally exclaimed.
All of them laughed. “Do you ever think of anything besides men, Sally Hampton?” Carrie demanded.
“Why, is there anything else to think about?” Sally asked in a bewildered voice. Then she grinned. “I also think about food and clothes.”
Groans filled the hallway as the four women walked out onto the porch. A well-appointed carriage waited for them at the bottom of the steps. “Are we really going to be late for the dance, Aunt Abby?” Natalie asked.
Abby shook her head. “I remember what it was like when I was a young lady. I gave you plenty of time to get ready.”
They had traveled down the road not more than ten minutes when all traffic came to a halt. Abby craned her neck to identify the problem. “Driver?”
The driver shrugged his broad shoulders. “I should have gone another way, ma’am. I’m sorry. Some other drivers told me the Wide Awakes were in town for a parade. I thought we would be past their route before it began. I’m afraid we’re not going anywhere for a while.”
“Oh, bother!” Abby exclaimed in an exasperated voice.
“What is it?” Carrie asked. She leaned out to see the parade they were discussing, but a sea of carriages blocked her view.
“It’s another one of those Republican parades. I’m all for party enthusiasm, but I’m afraid we’re going to be horribly late for the dance.” Abby turned around and looked back at the carriages stacked up behind them. “I’m afraid there’s no way to get out of this mess.”
Carrie still didn’t understand what was happening. “Who are the Wide Awakes?”
Abby rose suddenly, without answering. “If we’re not going to make it to the dance on time, the least we can do is see the parade,” she stated. “Driver, we’ll be back when the parade is over.”
The driver nodded complacently, settling back against his seat. “I don’t reckon I’ll be going anywhere before then, ma’am.” He reached under his seat and pulled out a bucket. “I’ll just eat the dinner my missus fixed for me. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Within minutes Carrie found herself pressed into the massive crowd lining the street. She wondered uneasily if they were all going to be trampled. She stretched herself as tall as she could but could see nothing but a mass of heads blocking her vision. It didn’t matter if the parade came—she wouldn’t see it anyway.
“Let’s go up there.” Aunt Abby pointed to the high landing of an office building.
“Do you think it’s all right?” Natalie asked with a troubled expression. Carrie knew the crowd was frightening her. She, too, wanted nothing more than to remove herself from the milling bedlam, but she didn’t want to get in trouble.
Abby grinned. “It should be. I own the building.” With a laugh she led the way up the stairs, pulled out the key that would let them in, and swung open the solid door. All four entered with a sigh of relief. Carrie glanced around the immaculate offices and then followed Abby up the stairs. This wonderful lady was a constant source of surprises.
Just as they stepped out onto the landing above the second floor, Carrie heard a sound in the distance. It seemed to have a life of its own as it steadily increased and swallowed the noise of the crowd. Carrie had never heard anything like it. She leaned against the railing and peered down the street. As the sound, still undecipherable, drew closer, a strange glow lit the distance. Breathless, Carrie kept her eyes fixed on the street.
Finally, the sound took a shape and identified itself. Moving toward them were thousands of men dressed in dark oilcloth capes, tramping in military fashion, and holding aloft smoky torches that cast their flickering light on the teeming crowds assembled to meet them. Carrie had seen military parades performed by the Virginia militias, but never anything to equal this. What was going on?
Aunt Abby seemed to be reading her mind, for she leaned forward and shouted, “The Wide Awakes are young Republican enthusiasts who march to generate political enthusiasm. They are determined to see Lincoln elected.”
Slowly, Carrie turned back to stare at the scene before her. Never had she felt so out of place. As the tramping filled the night and seemed to take on a life of its own, she was thankful for their place high above the masses. Instinct told her a large number of the people assembled below would not be friendly toward three plantation girls from the South. The very thought frightened her. Never had she thought she would need to be afraid in her own country. Her hands trembled on the railing as the clamor of the crowd grew.
“Lincoln! Lincoln! Lincoln!”
Once again, she felt the same strange sensation she had experienced in Richmond standing beneath Washington’s Monument. Even though dusk had claimed the city, she felt dark clouds lowering to engulf them. She stared down, somehow aware of the blind emotion swirling through the masses—their allegiance seemingly given to whomever made the most noise. It both frightened and fascinated her.
Carrie stood alone at the balcony with Abby. Natalie and Sally, alarmed by the spectacle, had retreated inside. Finally, she turned to the older woman. “They believe in him, don’t they?”
Abby shrugged. “They believe in him tonight while the bands are playing and the night is full of the tramping of feet pounding out their message. Will they believe in him tomorrow?” She smiled ruefully. “People believe easily when it doesn’t cause them any discomfort. It’s when it hurts to believe that believing means something.”
Carrie stared at her. Never had she heard a woman talk this way.
Abby interpreted her look. “Natalie was right, Carrie. We are alike in one major way. We question everything that goes on around us. I happen to think it’s one of my better traits.” She grinned. “If more people had asked questions, I don’t think our country would be in the mess it’s in right now.” She grew more serious. “I think our country is in desperate need of more balance, Carrie. Men need women to help keep the perspective straight and to see an issue from all sides. Women need to be able to vote.”
Carrie could think of nothing to say. She had never even considered women having the vote. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Abby laughed at her expression. “I’m sorry, dear,” she chuckled. “I get carried away sometimes.” Her expression changed suddenly. “Not that I don’t mean it with all my heart, but I sense you have plenty to deal with already. I don’t need to add anything to your load. Do me a favor,” she added with a sudden smile. “Don’t tell Natalie of my wild ideas. She’ll feel compelled to share them back home, and my dear family will be convinced they need to come lock me away. There will be a time to let them know how I feel, but it’s not now.”
Carrie nodded. “Of course,” she replied instantly, honored Aunt Abby had entrusted her with a secret. She would never betray her new friend.
Just then the bands stopped playing and the tramping of feet abruptly came to a halt. Carrie returned her attention to the street just in time to see a man climb onto a platform that had been hurriedly put in place.
“Seward,” Abby said in response to the question in her eyes. “It took him a while to adjust to the fact he was not going to be the next president, but now he’s campaigning like crazy for Lincoln. Whatever else people might say, he is a man committed to his party.”
The crowd quieted down enough for Seward’s voice to be heard clearly. Carrie listened intently as he went on at great length about Lincoln and why he should be the next president.
When he seemed to be winding down, a question was shouted from the crowd. “What is going to happen if the Southern states secede as they are threatening?”
Seward’s smile never dimmed. He waved his hands for renewed attention and delivered his statement with great confidence. “For ten, aye twenty years, these threats have been renewed in the same language and in the same form, about the first day of November every four years, when it happened to come before the day of the presidential election. I do not doubt but that these Southern statesmen and politicians think they are going to dissolve the Union, but I think they are going to do no such thing!”
The crowd roared its approval and once again started its chant. “Lincoln! Lincoln! Lincoln!”
“Carrie?”
Carrie turned to see Aunt Abby staring at her. Only then did she become aware of the tears streaming down her face. “He’s wrong you know,” Carrie said softly, wiping away her tears, and turning to stare at the crowd below. “The South isn’t just threatening this time. If Lincoln is elected, they will secede.”
Abby opened her mouth as if to argue and then merely nodded, her eyes suddenly very fatigued.
“My father says the passions of men have destroyed any possibility of reason. He says there is no chance Lincoln will not win, and that when he wins, the South will secede.” Carrie’s voice trembled. “And then there will be war.”
Both Carrie and Aunt Abby turned back to stare as the band broke out in victorious music and the hordes of Wide Awakes resumed their relentless tramping. Abby reached out and took the younger girl’s hand. “I wish I could refute what you are saying. I would like to insist reason will save us.” She sighed instead. “I’m afraid your father might be right. Passion is now ruling our country.”
Natalie and Sally eased out the door and joined them on the balcony. Both girls were frightened but determined to ignore the obvious. “Aunt Abby? The crowd is breaking up. Do you think we can make it to the dance now?” Sally asked.
Aunt Abby turned slowly to look at them, seeming almost surprised to see them there. “The dance?” she asked vaguely. “Oh, yes, the dance!” She shook her head and focused on Natalie and Sally’s faces. “Goodness me, we don’t want to lose our carriage.” Glancing over the balcony, she exclaimed, “Let’s go, girls. We must hurry.”
The dance, held in the ballroom of a huge mansion set high on a hill overlooking the city skyline, seemed a different world from the smoky torches and the endless tramping of feet. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the glowing beauty of the home. Music swirled around her, drowning out the earlier noise that seemed etched into her mind and heart. It was not long before the three beautiful girls were surrounding by admiring men.
“Good evening, ma’am.”
Carrie looked up into the sparkling eyes of the tall red-haired gentleman in front of her. He didn’t have the same elegant bearing of many of the men around him, but she liked the sparkle and warmth of his eyes, and the confident way he held his angular frame. “Good evening, sir.” She smiled as his eyebrows raised slightly. “Virginia,” she said in response to his unspoken question. “Richmond, to be exact.”
“Welcome to Philadelphia, Miss....?”
“Cromwell. Carrie Cromwell.”
The tall redhead suddenly threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “I would have to approach the only girl who is already spoken for!”
Carrie stared at him, wondering vaguely if he was a little mad. Her look only made the man laugh harder. She watched as he forced himself to calm. He was merely chuckling when he extended a hand. “Welcome to Philadelphia, once again, Miss Carrie Cromwell. My name is Matthew Justin.”
“Robert’s friend!” Carrie gasped. She reddened when she recalled his earlier comment. The only girl who is already spoken for… What had Robert told this stranger?
Matthew, aware of her embarrassment, bowed deeply. “May I have this dance, Miss Cromwell?”
Carrie stared up at him and nodded. She knew she should say something, but all she could do was move toward him, her thoughts still stuck on his surprising pronouncement. He took her lightly in his arms, and they waltzed off to the music. The music and the dancing helped Carrie regain her composure. Finally, she was able to look up and say in a natural voice, “You must think me quite an idiot.”
Matthew looked down with a laugh. “Hardly that. You were caught by surprise, and I have the distinct feeling I spoke out of turn when I said you were already spoken for.”
Carrie flushed again but didn’t break eye contact. “As far as I know, I am still a free woman, Mr. Justin,” she said. “Robert has told me about you. You are a journalist, I believe?”
Matthew nodded. “That I am. It is probably the only reason I am at this dance. People in high places like to court the press in hopes that anything we may write about them will be more favorable. Country boys from the western hills of Virginia would not likely make it to this grand event otherwise.”
Carrie laughed at the dryness of his tone, suddenly aware Philadelphia was full of people she knew she could be friends with. She liked the direct way they spoke, unconcerned about the social protocol and expectations that governed Southern society. Then her expression sobered.
“Did I say something to offend you?”
“No, of course not.” Carrie forced herself to smile. They continued to dance, but she knew Matthew was hoping for an explanation. She shrugged and tried to speak lightly. “I find it difficult to believe I may soon be at war with people I have discovered I like so much.”
Matthew regarded her with serious eyes. “You believe there will be war?”
“I’m afraid so, Mr. Justin.”
“Please call me Matthew,” he insisted. He waited for her nod before he continued. “Robert told me you were different. He said you see things most women—especially Southern women—prefer to ignore. I believe he was right.”
Carrie met his eyes squarely. “Ignoring something will not make it go away. I would rather prepare myself than wake up one day realizing all my delusions have been shattered by reality.”
“I quite agree, but I made myself a promise tonight,” he said. “Just for this one night, I have decided to pretend my world will always remain the same.” He smiled down at her. “Will you play my game with me?”
Carrie smiled and dipped into a low curtsy. “I would be honored to play your game, kind sir. I will do my best to abide by your rules.”
When the music stopped, he led her over to a small window seat overlooking the city. “Where are you staying, Carrie?”
“With a most wonderful woman. Her name is Abby Livingston.”
Matthew nodded with a smile. “I know her well. She is indeed a wonderful woman.”
“You know Aunt Abby?”
“I’m afraid he does,” an amused voice broke in. Abby stepped up and laid a hand affectionately on Matthew’s arm. “This one is special, Matthew. Treat her well.”
“Have no fear, Abby. I would have met her tomorrow even if I hadn’t had the privilege tonight.”
Carrie laughed at her puzzled expression. “This is Robert’s old friend that I was telling you about.”
“I hardly think I’m old yet,” Matthew protested.
Carrie and Abby laughed, and Abby linked her arm through Matthew’s. “What brings you to the top of the hill, Matthew?”
“Instead of down in the streets and gutters where I usually work?” Matthew smiled and bowed deeply. “You are now looking at the new leading political reporter for our fair newspaper.”
“Matthew Justin! That’s wonderful,” Abby exclaimed, giving him a hug. “Congratulations.”
Carrie watched the exchange, wondering what it was all about. Abby turned to explain.
“Matthew and I met three years ago when I was fighting the men who tried to destroy my business. I’m afraid they used some rather unscrupulous ways to try to promote their agenda.”
“Rather unscrupulous?” Matthew picked up the story. “Those men were sending thugs after her, trying to scare her out of the business district. I happened upon Abby one night when she was being held at knifepoint in an alley. I was able to persuade the gentleman he was in the wrong place.”
The look in his eyes told Carrie his persuasion had been a little rough.
“After that, Matthew helped me fight my opponents with the paper,” Abby continued. “He wrote articles about the attacks being made on me. Not long after, they mysteriously ended. Men who had turned their noses up at me before were suddenly willing to do business with me. I don’t know what I would have done if Matthew hadn’t come along.”
Matthew grinned self-consciously as he regarded Abby with obvious affection. “Carrie, you couldn’t find a better friend. If she thinks you’re special, your estimation has risen even higher in my already admiring eyes.” He smiled. “I see another man heading this direction to claim you for the next dance. Shall I pick you up tomorrow morning around ten for our tour of the university?”
Carrie nodded. “That would be wonderful, Matthew. I shall look forward to it.”
Matthew then turned to Abby. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Livingston?”
Carrie was quickly claimed and drawn into another waltz. She released herself to the magic of the evening, allowing all negative thoughts to flee her mind. This was an evening made for dance and laughter.
Then, as the night was drawing to a close, reality reared its ugly head once more.
“My I have this dance, Miss Cromwell?”
Carrie looked up into the icy blue eyes staring down at her. “Well, I—”
Without waiting for an answer, the stranger took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Carrie swallowed her misgivings and followed without protest. She noticed Matthew watching from across the ballroom.
“I hear you are from Richmond, Virginia, Miss Cromwell.”
“Yes.” Why did Carrie suddenly feel she was being interrogated? “And you are from Philadelphia, Mr.…?” Coolly, she inspected the young man standing before her. His classic blond good looks were marred by the icy intensity of his eyes and the arrogance of his bearing.
“My apologies, Miss Cromwell. My name is Alex Morning. And yes, I am a Philadelphian.” The mocking tone of his voice sharpened suddenly. “I take it you are a plantation owner’s daughter.”
“And what would make you think that?” Something told Carrie she must tread lightly. All of her mother’s fears about what could happen to her in the North suddenly reared their heads to taunt her.
“Come, Miss Cromwell. Surely it is not something you are ashamed of.”
Carrie pulled away and came to a standstill. Morning matched her actions, staring down at her with undisguised hostility. “If there is something you want to say to me then say it, Mr. Morning. I am not interested in games.”
A faint light of appreciation lit his features at her directness, but he was not to be deterred. “I simply find it difficult to believe that someone with your obvious intelligence could be a slave owner.” The contempt in his voice was obvious. “Of course, intelligence is of no importance