Authors: Shannon Farrington
Her Rebel Heart (17 page)
He studied her.
"The house could use a cleaning," she said.
Half a smile emerged beneath his mustache. "Lock the door behind me. I will come back to get you when we are finished at the fort."
"What about the seminary? Should we notify them? Samuel said they had hoped to relocate."
"I will speak with Dr. Carter at the first opportunity."
He tucked the parcel under his arm. She followed him to the door.
"Do you think the soldiers will let him come home today?"
"I don't know, child. We can only pray and then do our best."
"Mr. Davis is a good lawyer."
"Yes. God has gifted him with words." He reached for the doorknob. Before opening it, he turned back to look at her. "You know, last night as I was leaving, Sam asked me to give you a message."
"What did he say?"
"He said to tell you that he loved you."
Her eyes clouded. Her lip began to quiver and for the life of her, Julia could not formulate an appropriate reply.
"I will be back soon."
"Yes," was all she could manage.
He turned for the carriage. Julia bolted the door behind him.
"
Sam passed the first night, awaking to the sound of a bugle and the stirring of military men. His close-quarters comrades yawned and stretched as they, too, prepared to begin another day in captivity.
Having no clothes but the ones he had slept in, Sam did the best he could to tidy up. He tucked in his shirt. He put on his vest. It at least covered up some of the wrinkles.
After a breakfast of slightly undercooked beans, he was delighted to discover that prisoners of his kind were allowed some measure of freedom. They did not have to remain locked in their second-floor room. The window was opened and the door unlocked. Sam and his fellow prisoners were allowed out on the portico for sun and exercise.
His back was stiff and his muscles were sore from the mattress. He stretched his arms over his head and then walked to the railing. He gazed not over the fort but out beyond its walls, toward Baltimore. The air was humid. Gray clouds were forming to the west.
"Looks like rain," he said as John came to join him.
"That it does."
Sam turned to face him. "So what does the day hold for us?"
John huffed. "You have experienced everything there is to tell already, my friend. The real test of torture here is boredom." He leaned his back against the rail, rubbed his unshaven chin. "Get your family to send books, cards, anything to pass the time."
"How long have you been here?"
"Round about the time of the occupation. I'm a lieutenant with the Maryland Guard."
Sam's stomach dropped. He wondered if John had
been at the armory the night he was tossed out on his ear. He also wondered how well he knew Edward. He did not ask, though. There were Federal guards within earshot. The less they heard about his family, the better.
"You chose not to go south?" Sam asked.
"No. I'd planned to but I didn't leave when a good many of the others did. I foolishly waited. So here I am."
For the first time, Sam felt thankful for Edward's swift departure.
If he had stayed, he would be here, as well.
John stretched, then rubbed out a knot in his own back. "The bunks here aren't much but I suppose they are better than the ones in the confinement cells." Sam nodded.
"Reckon I'll get some exercise."
He watched as John walked the length of the portico then turned and retraced his route. Doing so, he had to step over two other men in their company'Richard, also a member of the Maryland Guard, and William. Sam did not yet know William's occupation. Both men were sharing sections of last week's copy of
The Sun.
A guard climbed the stairs. His eyes quickly swept the other prisoners then stopped on Sam. "Samuel Ward?"
"Yes, sir."
"You have a visitor."
Julia,
he thought for a hopeful split second, only to remember it was most likely her father's lawyer friend, William Davis. Grateful for any news, Samuel started in the guard's direction.
John called after him. "Hope they brought you somethin' good to eat."
The guard marched Sam to a room on the first floor.
To his surprise not only was William Davis waiting at the table but Dr. Stanton was, as well.
Sam smiled. "Sir, I did not expect to see you."
"I gave my oath to the Union," he said. "They aren't worried about me anymore."
Sam shook hands with both men then took a seat across from them. The guard took his place by the doorway.
"I thank you both for coming," he said.
Dr. Stanton chuckled. "You look a mess, son."
Sam smoothed back his hair and offered a sheepish grin. "Please pardon my appearance. This hotel does not provide shaving accessories and the tailor shop is closed." They laughed.
"I see they haven't captured your sense of humor," Dr. Stanton said.
A brown paper parcel had been lying on the table. He pushed it forward.
"I gathered up a few necessities for you, along with your Bible and one of your history books."
"Oh, thank you. I appreciate that." He would find the comb and toothbrush as soon as he got back to the room. "I am not in a confinement cell," he told them. "They have us in a room on the second floor. There are bunks with mattresses and a window."
"That is a relief to know," Dr. Stanton said. "Still, if there is anything else you would like to have just let me know."
He was dying to ask him about Julia, but didn't. He looked to Mr. Davis instead. "Were you able to speak with the lieutenant colonel?"
"Yes. I demanded your release since no specific charges have been presented. He cited a great deal of
military and political drivel but basically would not comply."
Sam's shoulders slumped. "How long will I be here?"
Davis shrugged. "It is hard to say. Evidently, in wartime the government has decided it can forgo legality. But I won't let you sit here. I will investigate other avenues. I will find a way."
Sam believed he would. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate all your efforts."
"And I will speak with Dr. Carter and the seminary," Dr. Stanton said. "I will let them know what has happened and ask them to hold your position until you return."
"Thank you. I appreciate that, as well. When I spoke last with Dr. Carter he said they were close to resuming studies."
The guard at the door pulled a watch from his pocket. "You have five minutes," he told them.
Davis glanced at Dr. Stanton. "I will wait outside for you." He rose from his seat then looked back at Sam. "I will leave no stone unturned," he promised.
Sam shook his hand. "I know you will."
"I'll return as soon as I have news," he said and then turned for the door.
"Four minutes," the guard called out.
Sam looked back at Dr. Stanton. Julia's father now had another package. It must have been sitting on his lap because Sam hadn't noticed it before. His spirit lifted immediately. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in a dishcloth, tied up with twine.
"Julia sent this."
The mere mention of her name brought a smile to his face. Sam quickly unwrapped the cloth. It was a loaf of bread and a jar of strawberry jam. He thought of what
John upstairs had just said about visitors bearing food. He laughed.
"She thought you might like it," her father said.
"I do."
It was a hopeful sign. At best she had forgiven him for implicating her family with abolitionists. Or at worst, she felt sorry for him. Whatever the motive behind the bread, at least she was thinking of him.
"How is she?" he asked.
"She is worried about you. She is at your house, cleaning."
"Cleaning?"
Dr. Stanton shrugged and smiled. "She said it needed doing."
Sam laughed. The thought of Julia in his home, in
their
home at this moment, then made his voice thick with emotion. "Tell her that I thank her."
"I will."
"Time is up," the guard announced.
Not wanting to leave the Federal Army's good graces, Dr. Stanton and Sam both immediately stood. They shook hands. Sam's throat was still tight.
"Thank you for coming," he managed.
"You are welcome, son. Don't worry. We will get you out of here soon. I promise."
"
Julia had scrubbed the kitchen and foyer floors and was working her way through the parlor when her arms and knees gave out. Sighing, she put aside her scrub brush and wiped her hands on her apron. Her eyes roamed the room. The curtains in the parlor entryway were now free of dust. The clock on the mantel held correct time. It ticked softly.
How often she had imagined housekeeping in this
home. How often she had thought of days filled with children and nights beside the one she had promised to love for all time.
But everything is different now. Everything has changed.
An empty ache filled her heart. The man she had promised to marry was now a prisoner at Fort McHenry, a captive of the Federal Army.
Sitting there in the empty house, all Julia could do was cry.
"
Sam carried his packages back to his room. His new friends were all waiting.
"What did they bring you?" Richard asked.
Sam grinned and laid the clothing on his bunk. He held out Julia's bread and jam.
John practically licked his lips. "From the lady of the house?"
"Yes." He offered him a slice.
John did not have to be asked twice. Neither did the others. Smacking lips and nods of approval soon filled the room.
"Good bread," John said. "What's her name?"
Sam felt pride and thankfulness both at the same time. "Her name is Julia."
John dipped his last bite in the jam. "I hope she sends more."
"So do I," Sam said.
The food was gone within a matter of minutes but the men had enjoyed every bite. Belly full and heart lightened for the first time in days, Sam spent the rest of the morning on the portico. Legs outstretched, he read the Scriptures. What a blessing it was to have his Bible with him.
The sound of the soldiers' cadence and the flapping flag faded from his ears. Rain was now drizzling but he did not mind.
Thank You, Lord, for what You are doing,
he prayed.
Thank You that she has not forgotten me.
"
Julia had returned to her housecleaning with a determined strength, as though she was personally at war with the dirt and dust that had dared invade Samuel's floors. By the time her father came back she had cleaned the staircases and all three floors.
"Did you see Sam?" she asked immediately.
"Yes. For a few minutes. He said to thank you for the bread and jam."
She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She turned and quickly wiped it away so her father would not see. She moved toward the kitchen. He followed her.
"I am grateful his conditions are not as bad as I expected," he said. "He isn't in a cell. He is in a room with bunks and other political prisoners."
"It is still jail," she said. She took off the apron she was wearing, one she had found in a drawer belonging to Samuel's mother. She hung it on a peg behind the kitchen door. "When will they release him?"
"I don't know but William says he will keep at it."
"Do they know about the runaway slave?"
"No."
She sighed heavily. "Then there is no reason to hold him."
"The army will realize that in time."
But with how much time?
She thought.
What if in the meantime they find out about his abolitionist activities? What if they keep him months or even years?
The thought of Samuel being held at the fort for an
extended amount of time caused her hands to shake. Tears multiplied in her eyes. Soon she could no longer hide them.
"There now, child," her father said as he wrapped his arms around her. "Don't lose faith. God watches over him. The Almighty won't allow anything in our lives that isn't part of His ultimate plan."
"Even Federal soldiers?"
"Yes. Even Federal soldiers."
They stood there for several minutes. Julia clung to him like she had often done when she was small.
"It will be all right," he promised her.
Oh, Lord,
she prayed.
Please, let it be so. Please let Samuel come home.
"You have had a long day," her father said, finally. "We should go home."
W
hen Julia arrived home, her mother encouraged her to go upstairs and rest.
"You were up all night," she said, "and you have worked hard all morning."
"But what about the prayer meeting and the things which need tending to here?"
"Leave that to me. Go on now. I won't take no for an answer."
With a smile, her mother pushed her from the kitchen. Julia climbed the staircase, feeling the ache of every tired muscle with each ascending step. She went to her room and shut the door behind her.
She didn't even bother changing her dress. She simply unhooked her collar, loosened her cuffs and sat down on the bed. From her pocket, she took out Samuel's gold watch. It had run down and needed winding. After doing so, Julia tucked up her knees and laid her head on her pillow. She clutched his watch close to her heart and closed her eyes. She waited for sleep to come.
It did not.
Her mind was filled with images of Fort McHenry, of marching men in blue and musty old buildings where
plans for war were made. Her father had told her that Samuel wasn't in a cell. For that she was thankful. Still, she wondered just what the conditions were like. She could not imagine they were very comfortable.
What is he doing at this moment? Is he lonely? Is he thinking of me?
She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She had baked his bread and had scrubbed his floors all because she knew she must do something. Her acts of service, though, weren't enough. They did not fill the emptiness in her heart nor wash away the guilt she felt.
He is there because he defended my family. He was defending me. He said he would do so and I didn't believe him.
She winced, remembering that day in the churchyard.
"I would give my life for you, for your family, if necessary."
Samuel's eyes had been fixed on hers. She'd seen the hurt in them when she told him he was all talk. Julia now felt sick to her stomach, sick of heart.
Oh, God, forgive me for how I have treated him. He has done everything he said he would and yet I have done nothing but insult him. Sally said she believed I was making a mistake, that Samuel truly loved me.
She thought about the first time he had declared his love for her. It was April, only one year ago. War between the states was unthinkable. Spring was in full bloom and Samuel had just returned home on a semester break.
They had enjoyed a quiet family supper. While Edward was still in the dining room, finishing his dessert, Julia and Samuel had moved to the garden.
The sinking sun cast a soft glow over the daffodils.
Cherry blossoms swayed in a subtle breeze. Julia had reached up to touch their silky, soft petals.
"Aren't they wonderful?" she'd said. "So pretty."
He had watched her sniff a branchful.
"Not as pretty as you," he'd said.
She'd frozen, her cheeks matching the color of the flowers. She never knew how to respond when Samuel said things like that but she liked to hear them.
"Tell me, what news is there of Philadelphia?" she'd asked. "Have you visited all the historical places?"
"I have. I have even visited Independence Hall."
"Oh, how wonderful! What else?"
He'd led her to the bench. Julia's heart pounded at being so near him.
Samuel told of the Delaware River and Valley Forge, of George Washington and his brave yet humble men.
"What was Valley Forge actually like?" she'd asked.
"Primitive. I can't imagine how harsh it was for our soldiers wintering there. They had so little. I think it was only by the grace of God that they survived to keep on fighting."
"Imagine what the world would have been like if they didn't."
She'd fostered polite, intelligent conversation but the sleeve of his coat had been touching her arm. Her skin tingled and her ears were thudding.
Samuel went on to tell more and Julia hung on every word. She loved to hear him talk of history. His voice practically danced with excitement over the smallest details.
"I would love to see the places you have visited," she'd said.
He had smiled. "Then we will do so, one day."
The invitation surprised her yet she did not have much
time to ponder it. Samuel had then said, "You know, by this time next April, I will have completed my studies. I will have found permanent work."
He'd searched her face. Julia felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Her heart had beaten even faster as his words raced though her mind.
Then we will do so one day? I will have completed my studies? Could this be leading to'¦?
She'd held her breath, waiting, hoping.
Samuel glanced in the direction of the house, presumably making certain Edward wasn't approaching.
Don't let him come,
she'd prayed selfishly.
Oh, please Lord, don't let him come. Make him stay inside.
Samuel reached for her hand, running his thumb gently across her skin. She'd dared to meet his gaze.
He'd looked as nervous as she felt. His words then tumbled out.
"Julia, I love you. I have loved you forever it seems. When my studies are finished, when I secure a teaching post, will you consider, well, will you marry me?"
He'd stared at her, eyes wide.
She had not moved. She did not breathe. She could scarcely believe what she had just heard.
"Did you just ask me to marry you?" she'd asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Yes. Well, I must ask your father and I must find work'"
There was no telling how much longer he would have rambled on had she not laid her free hand on top of his. He'd stopped midsentence.
"Yes," she'd said.
At that, he'd looked as though he scarcely believed her. "You will wait for me?"
A surety unlike anything she had ever known before
settled over her. She wanted to be with Samuel. It seemed God had planned so from the beginning.
"I will wait for you," she'd promised.
Robins had chirped their approval as a smile moved over his face. Julia felt the warmth of his gaze, seen the hunger in his eyes.
No man had ever kissed her before. She bit her lip then realized that was completely the wrong thing to do in this situation.
Samuel leaned closer. Fear and yet anticipation made her hands tremble. He must have felt it. He squeezed them gently just before his mouth found hers.
Julia had never forgotten the sweetness nor the excitement of that first kiss. When Samuel held her in his arms he had the power to make everything else around them disappear.
But reality soon returned, harder and uglier with each dose.
Lying in the stillness, the safety of her own room, she sighed.
Did I just not realize then what I was promising? I didn't know how complicated things would become. Neither of us imagined war, let alone our family divided over it.
She rolled back to her side, her eyes falling upon the Frederick Douglass book lying on the nightstand. Her father had asked her to read the small volume; but as of yet she had not. Julia sucked in her breath. By Samuel's own admission it was this man's words that had shaped his convictions and fixed his position concerning this conflict.
What was it this man said that convinced him he could not support Edward's cause? And if it is so important to him then why didn't he simply ask me to read it in the first place?
Her curiosity sparked, she swapped his watch for the narrative.
Propping up on her pillows, she turned to the first page. She was about to find out more information than she had ever imagined.
She just didn't know it.
"
John had been right. The real test of political imprisonment here at the fort was boredom. Sam had often wondered what it would be like to have unlimited hours to read. He had found out it was not as glorious as he had once imagined. Eyes grew weak, necks stiff. Julius Caesar and his Roman legions were not nearly as intriguing as they had once been. He soon found himself longing for the most mundane of physical labor, chopping wood or pulling weeds from the garden.
John passed him the latest copy of
The Baltimore Sun.
Sam glanced at the headlines and sketches. Short, bald General Butler had been replaced by Major General George Cadwalader and three regiments from Philadelphia. Sam scanned the article, learning it was partially this man's role which had led to his arrest.
Cadwalader had received orders from President Lincoln "to arrest persons under certain circumstances and to hold them prisoner though they should be demanded by writs of habeas corpus."
Sam had read enough of the article. He passed the paper back to John.
"I'm telling you," John said, "it is only a matter of time before we see more good citizens of Baltimore here in our company."
By the way the article had read, Sam was inclined to agree with him. He prayed the soldiers would continue to honor Dr. Stanton's oath of loyalty and that Dr. Carter
and his friends in Fell's Point would be careful concerning their activities.
One of William's relatives had sent a checkerboard. The men took turns passing the time with the game. John, who by now had abandoned the paper, asked questions about Julia and her baking. It seemed he had an appetite as large as the Federal Army itself.
"Will she send more soon?"
Sam had not told anyone of what had happened between him and Julia. He did not want anyone to think ill of her. "I am sure she will when she is able," he said.
"Does she make cornbread?"
"Yes."
"Blueberry muffins?"
Sam smiled. "When the berries are in season."
John nodded. "We're coming into blueberry season here soon," he said.
"I will mention that next time I speak with her."
Sam didn't know when that might be but he did not let on so. He had thought about writing her but there wasn't much news to tell. The only things he did want to say to her, he had promised he wouldn't.
I said I would respect her wishes. I must do so.
He picked up his Bible and walked out to the portico. A summer storm was pelting the fort. Sam sat down on the buckling porch floorboards and stretched out his legs. He wondered when Dr. Stanton would visit again. He wondered if Julia would ever come with him.
He sighed, knowing deep down inside that she wouldn't.
Even if it was her desire to set things right between us, she is too afraid of the soldiers. The best I can hope for at this point is more bread.
He watched as below, a squad of men ran double-quick across the grassy interior. Their uniforms were
soggy. The men were slowed by the heavy, wet wool. A fellow at the end of the line tripped in the mud. He scrambled to his feet, hurrying to catch up with the others before anyone noticed.
They were once just ordinary men with ordinary lives. Now they are here and our entire nation is divided.
He thought again of Julia. He had purposely spared her the details of slavery. Many were too gruesome, too appalling to discuss. But he wondered what she would say if she knew the whole truth.
Would it change her opinions, her focus in this conflict?
He sighed once more.
Even if it did, Edward would still be part of the Confederate Army. The family would still be divided. And slavery would still be legal here in Maryland.
"
Julia continued to read, though she had been ghastly underprepared for the story the book told. In the first chapter alone, Frederick Douglass told how he was separated from his mother as a baby, which was the common practice in Maryland. Mothers were sold off to other plantations and the children given to old women who were too feeble to work in the fields.
Did such a thing happen to Elijah and Elisha?
she wondered.
Do they even know who their mother is?
Douglass went on to tell how men and women were whipped repeatedly by cruel overseers. Much of the time, the whip masters were drunk and swearing profanely.
Two chapters of the man's life were all she could take. Julia was now in tears; her eyes opened to a new world, a cruel and despicable one.
No wonder Samuel cannot support States' Rights, not if slavery is a right insisted upon. No wonder he felt he
must aid the young runaway. Oh, Lord, please forgive me. I had no idea. Edward has no idea.
She wiped her eyes, shivering as she imagined the gruesome scenes she had read about.
How many slaves are suffering such a fate here in Maryland? How many right here in Baltimore? I thought Samuel had been a coward. I even told him so.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She began to sob.
Oh, Lord, forgive me. I had no idea.
"
Sam felt it as certainly as though John or William had nudged him on the shoulder. He laid his Bible aside.
I need to pray for her.
Bowing his head while the business of war circled about him, Sam once more prayed for Julia.
Whatever is happening to her at this moment, Lord, be with her. Give her wisdom. Give her courage to follow the path You have chosen for her.
"
She had told herself she would not read another word. It was too disturbing, too heartbreaking, but she felt compelled to continue. Julia cringed at stories of slaves who had been murdered by their masters. Neither the justice system nor society treated the acts as a crime.
And then those poor girls'¦
A knock sounded on the door. Julia jumped. Quickly laying the book aside, she scrambled to her feet. "Come in."
Sally peeked her head inside.
Julia wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "Oh, Sally, thank goodness you are here!"
Sally shut the door behind her. "Your mother told me what happened. I am so sorry."