Chapter Twenty-Two
Carrie walked slowly by Aunt Abby’s side, savoring the smells and sights of the marketplace. Just like so many things in Philadelphia, this was a new experience for her. Fruits and vegetables were all grown on Cromwell Plantation, and she had always taken the abundance for granted. It was a new experience to see the myriad varieties spread out under the tin roofs of the market, vendors hawking their wares as zealously as Southerners sold tobacco. Elegantly dressed women, along with more commonly dressed house servants, poked and examined the produce until they found what met their discriminating tastes. Huge baskets hung heavily on their arms as the fresh food threatened to overflow. The sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. The throng of people crowding the aisles had come early, before the searing July heat made staying in the house with a cold glass of lemonade much more appealing than strolling among the market stands.
“I’m glad you came with me, Carrie.”
“Oh, so am I, Aunt Abby. This is absolutely fascinating. I’ve had such a wonderful time. It’s going to be so hard to go home tomorrow.” She knew the hardest thing was going to be leaving Aunt Abby. She had grown to love her deeply. “I can hardly believe it’s already been a month.”
“I’m going to miss you, Carrie.”
Carrie brushed at the tears welling up in her eyes as she turned to the older woman. “I’m going to miss you, too.” She paused. “You’ve become like a mother to me. I love my mother, but...” She shook her head. “She has no idea what to do with a daughter like me, so her goal in life has become to change me so I will fit the mold she has made for me.”
“That seems like a plan destined for failure,” Aunt Abby observed.
Carrie managed a laugh. “I’m afraid I’m quite a disappointment to her.”
Abby looked directly into her eyes. “I’m sure your mother loves you very much. At some point in time, she will become comfortable enough with herself to accept you just the way you are. In the meantime, you can be nothing but the woman God created you to be. Some people will be comfortable with it, others will not. The important thing is that you be comfortable with yourself.”
Carrie nodded, knowing she spoke from experience. “Thank you, Aunt Abby. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m all done here, Carrie, but let’s go home a different way. Since it’s your last day here, you might as well squeeze in everything you can.”
Heat was already beginning to radiate off the pavement as the two women strolled down the road.
“Did you get what you came to Philadelphia for?” Abby asked.
Carrie glanced quickly at her. She would not even consider dodging the question. She trusted Aunt Abby. “I think so,” she said. “Matthew was wonderful to show me around the school. I know college and medical school are what I want...”
“But...?”
Carrie shook her head firmly. “No buts. I’m just not sure of the timing. I was disappointed when we found no one to talk to at the college—especially another female. Matthew encouraged me but also warned me it would be difficult.” She paused and thought back to the intense longing she had experienced when she was walking the tree-covered sidewalks of the university. Her desire to learn had been fueled by the spirit of those who had gone before. Even though she hadn’t seen any other women, she could feel them urging her to join their ranks in breaking the status quo. It had both scared and exhilarated her. “I will talk with my father about it when we get home. I know he will support me and, in the end, he will have Mother make a show of supporting me, too.”
“Your father sounds like a very special man,” Abby said thoughtfully. “He is obviously a very wise man—and also a brave one. It is hard to go against tradition. Especially for a man. Especially when it is his daughter going against the tradition.”
“My father is wonderful.”
“But...?”
Carrie laughed. “Does there have to be a ‘but’ with everything I say?”
Aunt Abby shrugged. “No, but when I hear one, I’m going to ask.”
Carrie looked at her and smiled. She knew she would never have to worry about Aunt Abby saying what was on her mind. They rounded the corner and started down a long street of brick row houses. The small, tidy yards still fascinated her, but they held no drawing power. She loved city life, but the freedom of her childhood would always demand more space for her restless spirit. She would feel caged in one of these yards.
“Aunt Abby, do you believe slavery is right?” Carrie asked suddenly. She had wanted to ask the question for an entire month. Dances, the theater, museums and luncheons had occupied her time, but the thought had never been far from her mind. She had talked to her new friend about endless topics but had always managed to avoid the one most troubling her.
Abby took a deep breath, stopped walking, and turned to Carrie. “’What do you think?”
Carrie shook her head. “Not this time,” she said. “I know I have to make my own decision about this, but I really want to know what you think and believe.”
Abby took Carrie’s arm and led her to a bench underneath a spreading maple tree. Once they were seated, she gazed, deep in thought, at a large brick building across from where they were sitting. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. “I am a member of the Philadelphia Abolitionist Society.”
Carrie was speechless. She could do nothing more than stare at the woman across from her. Aunt Abby was an abolitionist? Abby waited patiently. Finally Carrie spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have mattered?”
Carrie pondered the question. Would it have mattered? Would it have changed the fact that their hearts had bonded so closely? Would it have kept her from loving this woman who had become like another mother to her? “I don’t know,” she said. She caught the flash of hurt on Abby’s face, reached out a hand, and took the other woman’s in it. “It wouldn’t have changed how much I’ve grown to love, admire and respect you even one iota.”
“But...?” Aunt Abby made no attempt to hide the laughter in her eyes when she asked the question that seemed to have become a kind of code between them.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” She couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice.
Abby paused. “You are struggling with the slavery issue yourself, aren’t you?” When Carrie nodded, she continued softly. “How could I expect you to confront how I feel about the issue, when you are running from how you feel about it?”
Carrie was slightly stunned by Aunt Abby’s words. “How did you know?”
“It’s an old trick I once used quite often, so I recognize it easily. I seemed to always have this absurd hope that if I ignored an unpleasant situation long enough, it would go away. I found it usually only became more difficult.”
“That’s true,” Carrie agreed, looking down at the ground. “How long have you been an abolitionist?”
“For ten years.”
“You don’t talk like Alex Morning.”
“Heaven forbid!” Abby exclaimed. “I should certainly hope not.”
“But do you feel the way he does?”
Abby paused for a long moment. “Carrie, I hate slavery. I hate what it does to people—both blacks and whites. I believe it means misery and suffering for the black people who are slaves. I believe it means a lowering of the selves God made us to be for the white people. Both are a tragedy. But I don’t hate slave owners.”
“Why not?”
Abby seemed to struggle for words. “I believe slavery has become a trap for everyone involved in it. A terrible process, with terrible consequences, was put into motion when the very first slave set foot on American soil. We were a people dedicated to the equality and freedom of everyone, yet we chose to deny an entire race of people that on which we founded this country. We have sought to ignore our conscience ever since. The only way white people can continue slavery is by convincing themselves that black people are a lesser people than they are. By doing so, I believe they make themselves the lesser people. Black people are in bondage by no choice of their own. White people are in bondage because they choose to follow their own sin and deception.”
Carrie fought to make herself listen. Part of her knew Abby was speaking truth, while another part wanted to throw the words back in her face.
Abby smiled sadly. “Carrie, only God can show you the truth about slavery.”
“But God says slavery is right!” She couldn’t identify why she was supporting something she had grown to abhor.
“Does he?””
“Of course he does. I’ve heard preachers give sermons on it many times. They say the Bible supports owning slaves.”
“My church preaches that slavery is a sin and that the Bible clearly teaches against it.” She continued. “Carrie, have you read the Bible for yourself? Do you know what it says?”
“My father says that’s what ministers are for. To tell us what the Bible says and then to interpret it.” Carrie’s voice rose in stubborn defiance. She could not explain why she was close to tears.
Abby edged closer. “Carrie, listen to what I am about to say.” Her voice, though low, was more intense than Carrie had ever heard it. “This has nothing to do with our differing beliefs about slavery. It has everything to do with how you’ll make decisions for the rest of your life.” Abby waited several moments for Carrie to regain control. “Carrie, the church is made up of people. The ministers who stand and preach the word of God are nothing but people. Yes, many of them have been called by God to serve in that way, but they are still just people. And people make mistakes. People, even ministers, form opinions and beliefs based on their own experiences and their own interpretations. How else can you explain two men—both ministers of God—standing in their pulpits delivering vastly different messages about the same issue?”
Carrie leaned forward now, intent on every word coming out of Aunt Abby’s mouth. Somehow she knew this was critically important.
Abby continued. “Both men obviously believe what they are saying enough to preach it to whomever will listen, but,” she said earnestly, “those men are not God. Only God holds the real truth. And I believe he will give it to anyone who honestly seeks and asks questions. The Bible says ‘all who seek me will find me.’ It is good to listen to what people have to say. Listen, and then examine it. Read the Bible yourself and then ask God to show you the truth. That’s the only truth you can stand on—the only truth that will not falter when attacked by others around you.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
“Yes,” Abby said flatly, her eyes kind, “and that is exactly why most people are merely sheep being led by the person who steps forward claiming to be their shepherd. It’s much easier to be blindly led along. They echo sentiments put forth by someone else without knowing God’s mind, and certainly without knowing His heart.”
“Alex Morning said slavery is of the Devil,” Carrie stammered, dismayed by the increased chaos in her heart.
Abby looked into Carrie’s eyes. “If something is not of God, then who is it of?” she asked. She didn’t give Carrie time to answer. “Alex Morning was very wrong that night. I may think some of the things he said were true, but his method did more harm than good. He was every bit as wrong as the thing he was attacking. When people fight something with hate and anger, they close the doors to actual change because they close the doors of the person’s heart they are trying to change. Carrie, I believe slavery is wrong, but I also believe many of the methods used to end it are also wrong because they employ hatred.”
“Like John Brown?”
Abby nodded. “Like John Brown. I sympathize with his heart and his desire to see people set free, but hatred and murder are not the ways to accomplish it. In the end, he walked away from the love of God and chose his own ways.” She paused again, obviously deep in thought. “I wish there were a painless way to end slavery—a painless way for both blacks and whites. I have come to the conclusion that it is not possible. The minute man decided to do away with another man’s freedom, the wheels were set in motion that would ensure a painful ending for the one who began such a system. The South has grown to depend on slavery. That doesn’t change the fact, however, that people’s freedom has been stolen from them. Which is more important?”
Carrie felt as if her head were going to burst. Why, oh why, did this issue have to constantly haunt her?
Abby drew closer and leaned over to look into Carrie’s downcast eyes. “You say you want to be different. You say you want to go places most women never think of. There is a responsibility that goes with being different—with being a leader. Women—people everywhere—will look up to you for daring to be different. What will they see, Carrie?” she challenged lovingly, yet firmly. “Will they see someone with the courage to stand for truth? Will they see someone who moves beyond what is comfortable in order to do what is right?” Abby stopped and leaned back against the bench. She had said all she was going to say.
Carrie struggled to bring her thoughts under control. “I wish I could stay with you longer, Aunt Abby.” Her words trailed off into the glimmering heat waves bouncing off the street. She was completely unaware of the sweat beginning to trickle down her face. Carrie had no idea how to put into words what she was feeling, she just knew she didn’t want to leave. She both despised and welcomed the challenges Aunt Abby was throwing at her. Slowly, a fire ignited in her heart. It was a fire to live up to Aunt Abby’s standards, but most importantly, a fire to know her own mind and her own heart. She suddenly understood that she was the only one who held the answer to all her questions about slavery.
“I would love for you to come back, Carrie,” Abby said earnestly. “You could live with me for a few months if you would like.” She reached out and took her hand. “I have grown to love you deeply.”
Carrie stared at her, unable to believe her own ears, until her attention was drawn to a steady stream of people pouring into the building across the street. Carrie noted the oddity of the group. She saw as many blacks as she saw whites. What was going on?
Abby answered her unspoken question. “That is the meeting hall of the Philadelphia Abolitionists. They meet every Thursday morning.”
“Is that why you brought me this way?”
“Heavens, no!” Abby laughed. “I thought we would be home by now.”
Carrie stared across the street thoughtfully. “Can we go?”
“Go home?”
“No. Go to the meeting.”
Slowly she nodded her head. “If you want to.”
Carrie’s answer was to stand up and make her way across the road. Heads nodded pleasantly toward Abby as they entered a large room filled with chairs and a podium in the front. The looks directed toward Carrie were curious but not unkind. Carrie had never been to a meeting like this. There were equal parts black and white. There were also equal parts women and men. She wondered if everyone had an equal say.
Carrie was too busy looking around during the opening portion of the meeting to hear much of what was said. Her attention was drawn to the front, however, when a small, plainly dressed woman with a head-covering took her place behind the podium. “I have a special guest I would like to introduce,” the woman began. “Many of you remember me telling you about Harriet Masters. For those of you who don’t, you’re in for a real treat. But I’m not going to say anything else. I prefer to let her speak for herself.”
Carrie gasped and pulled her hat a little closer around her face when Harriet took her place behind the podium. She was glad Aunt Abby had selected chairs toward the back of the large room.
Harriet gripped the podium and spoke slowly. “My name be Harriet Masters. I don’t speak too good, but I got me somethin’ to say. First off, I want to say thank you to all you fine folks who helped me get free. I know I ain’t all the ways free yet. I stills got to get myself to Canada. I know I only be here in this city of Philadelphia for a while, den I’ll be on my way again. Only, I know I won’t be alone. I got fine folks helping me break away from the misery I was in.”
Carrie leaned forward, soaking in every word. Her eyes never left the familiar face.
“I ain’t always been a slave. I was born a free girl somewheres up north. I can’t rightly recollect where. I was only a little gal—maybe seven or so—when some slave hunters kidnapped me from my mama and daddy’s front yard. I screamed for my mama, but it didn’t do no good. I never did see them again.” Harriet paused to take a deep breath. “I done been livin’ as a slave for twenty years now. Some of it was not so bad. Some of it was real bad. I worked out in the fields for my owner. The first overseer weren’t so bad. He yelled and hollered a lot, but he didn’t use the lash too much. But then the new one come. He be a real bad man. He didn’t have no problem using the lash. We done worked in the fields sometimes till it be way past dark. The old overseer let us have garden patches and we could even keep some animals for eating. The new one, he made us get rid of our gardens. Then he killed our animals and put the meat in the marse’s meat house. As long as the work got done, the marse didn’t care nothin’ about what be going on with us.” Harriet’s voice was a mixture of bitterness and sorrow.
Carrie looked quickly around the room. Faces were set in anger. Many women wiped tears from their eyes as they listened to the woeful tale. Carrie battled the sickness rising in her stomach like bile. She wanted to jump up and run from the room. Instead, she turned and leaned further forward to listen.
Harriet continued after a long moment. “Being a slave can be either real bad or just bad. Even when I got treated good, all I wanted was to be free. It be hard on the mind and the heart when everythin’ around you be telling you that you ain’t no more use than an animal. Sooner or later you start wonderin’ if it be true. Your spirit be tellin’ you that you be somebody. Everythin’ else be telling you that you’re nothin’.” Her voice grew more intense. “The South be full of people like me just wantin’ to be free. Most of us have heard somethin’ bout the Underground Railroad, but we think it be a dream. We can’t believe it be for real—dat people really care ‘bout what be happenin’ to us.” She stopped to wipe a tear running down her cheek. “Why, I thought it be too good to be true when one of yo conductors came and took us away from our plantation. It took us near two months to make it this far. I can’t tell you how many mounds of hay I been hid under, nor how many barns I been sleepin’ in. The slave hunters done ‘most caught us a bunch of times, but the good Lord done been watchin’ out for us. We done got this far. I think we be movin’ on soon.” The tears were flowing in earnest now. “I be a free woman now. I aim to find my mama and daddy somehow. I know somewhere they’re still out ‘dere wonderin’ where their little girl be.” She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Pride and determination shined from her strong features. “And one day I be goin’ back to find my own chilun. I have three of dem. Fine chilun... They be taken from me when they was little and sent off to be house chilun for people in the city. They told me we could visit sometime, but I ain’t seen nothin’ of them since they be gone. But someday,” she vowed in a strong voice, “my chilun and I will be together again. Someday...” Body erect, Harriet turned and made her way back to her seat.
Carrie was trembling all over.
“We need to go, Carrie.”
Carrie started when she felt Aunt Abby’s hand on her arm. Nodding wordlessly, she rose to follow her from the room. The searing heat hit them full in the face when they exited the building, but Carrie barely felt it.
“Want to talk about it?” Aunt Abby’s voice was deep with concern. “You went white as a sheet the minute Harriet took the podium. Was it too much for you? Was I wrong to take you to the meeting?”
Carrie shook her head, too full of emotion to talk just then. They were several blocks from the building before she regained control of herself. She turned to Aunt Abby. “It was Harriet. She—” Just then her eyes widened in horror, and she broke away from Aunt Abby to stride across the street, barely missing several carriages.
“Mr. Manson! What a surprise to see you in Philadelphia.” Carrie’s voice gushed with enthusiasm.
The burly man who was the target of her pursuit pulled up short as Carrie appeared in front of him. The two men accompanying him stopped but didn’t bother to hide the impatient looks on their faces. “Hello, Miss Cromwell.” He made no attempt to hide his surprise.
Carrie bit her lip. She knew it wasn’t proper for a plantation owner’s daughter to be familiar with an overseer, but now was no time to worry about protocol. “Why, what a delight to see you here. What brings you? Do tell me how you like Philadelphia!” Carrie maintained her position in the middle of the sidewalk.
Manson looked at her sharply. “It’s nice to see you, Miss Cromwell, but I am rather in a hurry right now.” The two men beside him shifted uneasily.
“Why, Mr. Manson, what could be more important than talking to little ole’ me?” Carrie almost laughed aloud at the sound of her own petulant voice. “I have so missed everyone from home. You’re like a breath of fresh air! Do tell me how things are back in Virginia. The Blackwells? Louisa?” Carrie fought to control her panic. She had to stall him. She was counting on the close friendship between her father and Alfred Blackwell to keep Manson there.
The two men stared at Manson as he pushed his hat back on his head and sighed. “Miss Cromwell, the truth is that I am not here in Philadelphia on pleasure. It’s business. I really must be going.” He moved as if to walk around Carrie.
Carrie, fighting a desire to laugh, moved forward suddenly and put her hand on his arm. His tanned face blushed crimson. Why, it was rather fun to use her feminine wiles! “Oh, business,” she gushed, stretching out the word as long as she could. “I am so fascinated by business, Mr. Manson. Man’s ability to handle business is something I so admire. Do tell me what kind of business you’re here on.”
Manson ignored the two men at his side and settled into a relaxed posture on the sidewalk. “Well, Miss Cromwell. It’s quite a long story.”
“Oh, I love long stories,” Carrie cried, feeling quite triumphant. The men behind Manson ground their teeth in frustration.
Thus encouraged, Manson embarked on his long tale of frustrations and thwarted opportunities as he had sought for weeks to hunt down the Blackwell slaves who had escaped. “There were ten of them, Miss Cromwell. They be mighty valuable to Blackwell. I’ve had to come and go in the hunt because I still have my responsibilities at the plantation, but we’ve been told they’re here in Philadelphia. Close, as a matter of fact.” Suddenly he was all business again. “Good day, Miss Cromwell.” He tipped his hat, stepped around her, and disappeared into the crowd.
Carrie looked after him, biting her lip. Had she given Harriet enough time?
“What in the world was that little show of Southern seduction all about?”
Carrie started as Aunt Abby’s amused voice sounded at her side. “Oh, Aunt Abby,” she cried. “I hope I gave her enough time.” The despair in her voice was obvious.
“What in the world are you talking about, Carrie?”
Carrie looked around the crowded sidewalks, now aware of people having to sidestep around her. “Can we sit down on this bench for a moment? I know you said we had to be going, but—”
Abby was already seating herself. “Tell me what is going on,” she demanded.
Carrie nodded. “It was Harriet. I’ve known her all my life.” She paused and took in Aunt Abby’s startled look. “She ran away from Blackwell Plantation. Alfred Blackwell is one of my father’s closest friends.” She paused as she remembered the tears streaming down Harriet’s face. “That man I was talking to is Abe Manson, Blackwell’s overseer. As soon as I saw him, I knew what he was here for.” Her voice caught. “Do you think I gave them enough time?”
Abby nodded. “You did fine, Carrie. There was just enough time.”
“How do you—”
Abby squeezed the girl’s hand. “When you looked so frightened, and then darted across the street, I knew something was wrong. I got a close look at those men and recognized one of them as a slave hunter. I also remembered your reaction when Harriet rose to speak. I couldn’t figure out the whole story, but I put two and two together enough to send a passing friend back to the meeting.” She smiled warmly. “Harriet and her friends are being taken to a safe place even as we speak.”
Carrie fell back with a deep sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” she said fervently, her voice choked with tears. She looked deeply into Carrie’s eyes. “Why did you do it, Carrie?”
Carrie shrugged. She hadn’t really stopped to think through any of her actions. There had been no time. “Harriet was so happy to be free, and she’s gone through so much already...” Her voice trailed off. “I could never have lived with myself if I hadn’t done something to stop them.” Silence fell between them for a moment and then Carrie laughed merrily. Her laughter continued as she saw Aunt Abby staring at her with concern. Finally, she sobered enough to speak. “None of my friends would have recognized me today. I hardly recognized myself! I’ve never been one to utilize feminine wiles.” Mirth overcame her again as she gasped. “I’m really quite good at it, you know. It was rather fun.”
Abby’s laughter rang out with her own, attracting the stares of many passersby. Carrie didn’t care. It felt good to laugh after the tension and heavy feelings that had permeated her entire day.
When both women had regained control, Abby leaned over. “I meant what I said earlier, Carrie. I would love for you to return and stay with me for as long as you would like.”
Carrie nodded. “I am going to talk to my father when I get home. I’m sure he will allow it.” Suddenly the most important thing in the world was to come back to Philadelphia and continue to explore the feelings and thoughts exploding through her mind and heart. And she wanted to be with Aunt Abby—an honest woman who would challenge her and allow her to be herself.
Carrie took deep breaths of fresh air as Miles skillfully guided the carriage around new potholes that had sprung up since she’d been gone. “It’s so good to be home, Miles.” Carrie meant it. Aunt Abby expected her back within a month, but Carrie would never lose her love of the Virginia countryside. This was where a part of her heart would always be. No matter where she went, or what she did, Virginia would always be home.
“It’s good to have you home, Miss Carrie.” Miles said sincerely.
“How is everything at home, Miles?”
“Everything be fine, miss.” He raised the reins and clucked to make the horses go faster.
Carrie nodded and relaxed back against the seat. She was surprised when her father had not been there to greet her but had been satisfied with Miles’ explanation that he was too busy on the plantation. Summer was the busiest time of the year, and it could be hard to get away. She watched the countryside slip by as she carefully planned just how she was going to convince her father that her returning to Philadelphia was the best thing. She and Aunt Abby had already made so many plans. Her head spun with the thoughts of all that would be waiting for her when she returned. Her fear that Natalie would be upset had been completely unfounded. “Oh, poo,” Natalie had said. “I’m happy for you. But me? All I want to do is get back to the South where I belong.”
Carrie was ready for a long bath and a good night’s sleep by the time the carriage rolled up the driveway. A long talk with Rose, and then a good night’s sleep. That was all she wanted.
“Welcome home, Carrie.”
“Father!” Carrie jumped from the carriage and ran up the stairs to embrace him. The lines around on his face were deeper than ever, and his eyes were deeply troubled—almost afraid. “Father, what’s wrong?”
Thomas hesitated. “Your mother—” He paused and struggled to control his voice. “Your mother is very ill.”
Without another word, Carrie turned and ran up the stairs.