Authors: Shannon Farrington
"What?"
Sally's hands moved to her narrow, drawn-in waist. "What would you really do if Samuel enlisted? You don't know what it is like to have the man you love more than life itself serving on some unknown battlefield. To know not whether he will live or die."
Julia's jaw dropped. Sally had never talked this way before.
The man you love more than life itself? She can't mean Stephen.
Then it hit her.
Edward.
Sally Hastings had never gotten over her brother.
Shame and sympathy flooded Julia's veins. How foolish she had been ranting on about Samuel when Sally felt this way. "Oh, Sally, I am so sorry. I didn't realize. I thought that ended long ago."
Tears squeezed past her friend's golden eyelashes. Her cheeks were flushed. "Edward never showed any interest in me when he was home. I have tried to forget him but I'¦" Her voice cracked.
"You can't."
Sally shook her head then offered a pitiful smile. "Forgetfulness it seems is in short supply these days."
Julia handed her a clean handkerchief.
"Please forgive me," she said, "for everything. I am so sorry. If I had known how you felt, I never would have complained so."
Sally wiped her eyes. She chuckled softly. "Of course I forgive you. You are my dearest friend."
"And you are mine," Julia said as they hugged each other. "Listen, when Edward writes, I want you to open the letter first."
"No. That would not be right."
"Then I will give you the letter as soon as I read it."
Sally stepped back. Her countenance had lifted. "You had better."
They both laughed then Julia turned serious.
"Reverend Perry asked if we would continue sharing our bread."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him yes."
Sally's left eyebrow arched.
"I promise you," Julia said, "I won't let my anger get the best of me again."
"I believe you but what will you do about Sam? He told me that so far he is the only man willing to help."
Julia sighed heavily. Like it or not, she knew what she was going to have to do. She would have to make peace with him. A greater purpose depended on it.
"I will apologize for my behavior today."
Sally gave her hand a squeeze. "God bless you, Julia."
"No. God bless you. You are always my example. You are the lady I want to be."
Sally waved her off with a smile. Her face then darkened with worry. "You won't tell your mother or Edward, will you?"
"Of course not. But I will spend a little extra time in prayer tonight."
Sally giggled slightly. Julia considered it a victory.
"I would appreciate your prayers," she said. "But consider what I said about Sam. He does love you. When it comes down to it, that is really all that matters in this life, to love and be loved in return."
"I didn't know you were such a philosopher," Julia quipped.
"Perhaps I read too much poetry," Sally mused, "but in times like these'¦ Well, consider what I said. Will you?"
Her words carried weight. Part of Julia wanted to find Samuel at that moment. The other part had no idea what to say to him.
"I will consider it well," Julia promised, "and perhaps you could spend a little time in prayer for me."
Sally smiled. "You have my promise."
"
Sam put away the water barrels and washed the tin cups. Then he promptly left the building. He tried not to think about what had happened between him and Julia. He just wanted to keep moving.
He walked up Charles Street deciding to pay a visit to his old employer, Collin O'Hara, a local blacksmith. Sam had no idea how long it would be before classes would resume. He could not sit home and wait. Neither his wallet nor his mind would allow it.
Mr. O'Hara was delighted to see him. His bushy, red mustache rose with a smile. Though when Sam asked about possible work, the man's face fell.
"I thought you would be teaching by now."
"I am. Or at least, I was." Sam explained what had happened with the school. "I thought that perhaps with all of the soldiers in town, you may need a little extra help."
"Sorry, boy. Business isn't that good. Many of my regular customers left for the war and as for the soldiers, well, they have their own smiths."
"I see."
Mr. O'Hara must have sensed his discouragement. "Tell you what," he said, "if business does pick up I will be sure to take you on. You were always a hard worker, trustworthy, as well."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."
They shook hands and Sam turned to go, mentally going through his list of where else he might find temporary work.
Maybe tutoring, though it's unlikely anyone would want to hire me on a short-term basis. I suppose I could always chop firewood.
A sad smile moved across his face.
What would she do if I just showed up?
The thought was tempting but his honor kept him from doing so.
I promised her that I would respect her wishes. Perhaps I should speak to Reverend Perry and ask him to find someone else to look after the bread table.
The thought of not seeing Julia filled his heart with a pain he could not bear and the thought of her in danger by Federal soldiers made his stomach roll.
Oh, Lord, why can't there be peace? Why can't life be as it was before?
His mind drifted back to a day last summer on Chesapeake Bay. He and Edward had taken a few days to go fishing.
"Why do you want to marry my sister?" Edward had asked.
At first Sam hadn't been certain if the question was one of curiosity or brotherly inquisition. Knowing Edward, it was probably a little of both. He'd answered honestly, "Because I love her."
The corner of Edward's mouth lifted with a smile. "I knew you would say that. I just hope you realize what you are getting yourself into."
Sam chuckled and tugged at his line. Neither of them had caught anything yet. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Edward looked at him incredulously. "Have you ever seen her get angry?"
"A time or two," Sam said. "It is usually directed at you."
The boat rocked slightly as Edward let out a hearty laugh.
The water rippled beneath them. The fish hadn't been biting but neither of them seemed to care.
"Jesting aside," Edward had then said. "My sister is a good woman. Stubborn but faithful. She will do anything to care for those she loves."
"I know that." It was one of the qualities that had drawn Sam to her in the first place.
Edward pulled his eyes from the blue-gray water. "I am glad it is you," he said. "I don't think I could let my sister marry anybody else."
Remembering, Sam sighed. The sincerity in Edward's voice that day was a far cry from the night of the Pratt Street riot.
When the city leaders learned that additional Northern troops were en route to Washington via Baltimore, they had sent a telegram to President Lincoln. They'd told of the attack and had advised him to send no more troops through Baltimore.
When Washington failed to comply, Mayor Brown and the police commissioners took matters into their own hands. They'd decided to burn the railroad bridges north of the city. Local militia had been pouring into
Baltimore all day. Everyone feared further confrontation with Federal soldiers.
Sam had followed Edward to the armory that night. Members of the Maryland Guard, police officers and volunteers had gathered. The air was charged. A frenzied excitement filled men's faces.
Instructions were given. The group would be divided into two forces. One would burn bridges on the Philadelphia rail line, the other on the North Central Railroad.
"No Yankee will step foot in Baltimore under our watch," one of the police officials had shouted.
Cheers radiated from the volunteers and many of the Guard. Slurs on the Northern troops spilled out. Listening, Sam had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The impulsive, protective spirit that had caused him to follow Edward to this place was waning. Reason was taking its place.
The argument for burning the bridges was a matter of safety. "We have seen what the Massachusetts troops have done," voices cried. "If we don't protect this city it will be on our heads!"
But the air was just as hot with talk of secession. "They trample our rights! Let us follow Virginia and South Carolina!"
Sam had begun to seriously wonder if the men swarming around him had Baltimore's best interest at heart, or if they were simply championing their own banner. He was no military strategist but he had enough sense to know that secession would not fare well for Maryland. The Union would not suffer its capital in Confederate hands. A bloodbath would ensue.
The planning had continued. The longer he'd stood there, the more certain he'd become that burning the
railroad bridges would be one step closer to secession, one step closer to the Federal Government's retaliation.
He tugged at Edward's sleeve. "This is wrong."
Edward nodded. "Yes. Yes," he'd said with enthusiasm, hearing nothing but the cheering crowd.
Sam caught him by the shoulder. Edward turned, a questioning look on his face.
"This is a mistake," Sam had said. "We should let the soldiers pass through."
Edward's eyes widened. "Pass through?"
"Yes, to Washington. Let them go on their way."
A hush had fallen over the tumultuous crowd. Those around him fixed their attention solely on Sam. Speaking to Edward yet knowing others were listening, he'd drawn in a quick breath and plunged forward.
"Burning the bridges will only invite trouble. We should let the soldiers continue to Washington."
"So they can raise arms against one of our sister states?" Someone shouted.
Sam shook his head. "So they can put an end to this matter before any more are killed."
The comment had brought a fury of disagreement. Faces twisted in disgust. Anger permeated the building.
The police commissioner on the platform had said, "It is not open for debate, young man. The decision has already been made. If you don't agree with it, you should leave."
Sam looked at Edward. "Surely you see what I am talking about."
Edward's eyes narrowed to dark slits. His jaw was clenched. "I asked you here because I thought you were with us."
"Edward, I am with you. With all of you. Think of Julia."
"I am thinking of her!"
"Don't you see? This will bring war!"
"We are already at war!"
The crowd pressed in around him and a dozen hands seized him. The next thing Sam had known, he was face down in the spring mud. The armory door shut behind him.
And from that moment on we were at odds.
When Julia learned that Sam had not participated in the defense of the city she had been greatly distressed.
"You left Edward and the others?"
That was the beginning of her doubts. That is when her opinion of me began to change.
Sam tugged at his topper then thrust his hands deep into his pockets and kept walking. He believed in freedom, justice and good for all mankind. He was no coward.
But how was he going to prove that to Julia?
How could he make Edward understand? Now
was
the time for action, the time to stand up for liberty. But obtaining freedom for some meant limiting the rights of others. If Sam fully embraced the abolitionist cause, would Julia and Edward ever be able to forgive him?
J
ulia swallowed back the lump in her throat as she approached the table. Samuel was already there. Sally was nowhere to be found. Julia wondered if her best friend would purposefully arrive late today so that Julia would be forced to interact privately with Samuel. Knowing Sally, she probably would.
Samuel was dressed in a black cutaway coat and was wearing the red-and-gold-silk vest she had sewn for him last Christmas. As was his custom, his gold watch chain was looped through one of the button holes. Julia couldn't help but wonder if her picture was still tucked safely inside the heirloom timepiece.
"Good day, Julia." Samuel's smile reached all the way to his eyes.
She tried to ignore the effect it had on her. "Good day, Samuel."
She had considered what Sally had said earlier concerning him. He did care for her. That was still obvious. His contrary political convictions may mean she could not marry him but it did not give her the right to remain angry with him.
She realized although their engagement had been
broken, that did not mean Samuel was going to disappear from her life. They lived in the same city, shopped at the same market and worshipped in the same church. She was going to have to set her disappointment aside in order to interact with him. She must be civil. He was still her Christian brother and God's word commanded that they bear one another.
She set her tray on the table and removed the cloth covering the bread. She thought her parents would stop by the table to talk with Samuel but they simply waved and walked up the church steps.
"I am pleased to see that your mother and father are well," he said. His tone was pleasant and even, the same way he always spoke to her. "I was worried about them."
"I appreciate your concern." She was putting off the inevitable and she knew it. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.
"Samuel, I must apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have spoken in such a way, especially with visitors nearby'¦"
She made the mistake of looking into his face. His brown eyes cut her to the core, not with condemnation but with love. Julia promptly lost her voice and all coherent thought.
"Think no more of it," he said. "I understand that Edward'"
That snapped her back into reality. She held up her hand. "Please." If there was one thing she could not discuss, it was her brother. Too many emotions churned. "We are here to serve our fellow citizens. Let's just leave our conversation to that."
He studied her, face full of concern. Silent seconds passed. Julia could feel her chin begin to quiver.
"If that is what you wish," he said.
It wasn't what she wished for but it would have to do. She wanted to step into his arms and feel the warmth of his embrace. She wanted him to comfort her, to tell her everything would be all right.
But it isn't all right and it won't be, at least not until this war is over and Edward returns safely home.
"
Her eyes were watering. It was all Sam could do to resist pulling her into his arms. She was close enough to smell her rose water perfume, close enough to kiss; but he held back, for the sake of honor.
"What kind of bread did you bring today?" he asked.
She drew in a quick breath and for an instant he thought he saw a hint of a smile. She turned for the table and adjusted the tray.
"I brought boiled milk rolls and cornbread with jam."
He smiled at her then asked about Sally.
"I am not certain she will join us today," she said.
He started to ask why but figured Julia would have told him so if she wanted him to know. "Well, then," he said. "I suppose we will have to manage without her."
"Indeed."
The noon hour approached. So did the people. Carriages clustered about the church and Sam noted that there were several in attendance today who were not members of the congregation.
Julia noticed, as well. "Word is spreading," she said. "Father told me that Reverend Perry extended an invitation to all of the ministers in the city, even churches outside our denomination."
He told her about the meetings in New York. "Reverend Perry said that one of the reasons the event was successful was that people were willing to steer clear of
politics and controversial issues. They simply came to seek God's will."
She nodded slowly. "Perhaps when all is said and done the churches here will find more common ground."
It was the cry of his heart, not only for the Christian community but for the two of them, as well.
One can serve Christ alone but so much more can be completed when two are equally yoked together.
Tensions between them relaxed somewhat as Julia settled into a productive pace. Sam doled out the cold water and she the smiles and bread.
"Would you care for a bite to eat, sir? God bless you."
The sound of her voice, the rustle of her petticoats as she moved about the table kept a smile on his face. Simply being near her made his head spin. He longed to tell her how often he thought of her, how much he missed her but he reminded himself to tread lightly.
Her manner toward him was cautiously guarded. All was not mended between them but at least they were together, interacting civilly.
A steady stream of citizens passed before their table'shoppers, police officers, laborers. One gentleman, a banker on his lunch break, inquired as to the reason for the church's hospitality.
Sam explained. "We wish to show kindness to our fellow citizens."
The banker squinted shrewdly, mistrust evident in his eyes. "Are you pro-Union or secessionist?"
Sam hesitated, unsure how to answer. In Julia's mind he was certain the response would be, "Both."
She surprised him.
"We aren't doing this for political reasons, sir. We are here to extend God's love."
She handed the man a milk roll then moved away
from the table. Sam's heart swelled so that he thought he would lose the buttons on his vest.
"
Julia had seen the two Negro children before, watching wistfully from the far side of the street. They had passed by about a half hour ago, struggling to carry a large sack of grain. They were barefoot, clothes in tatters. She could tell by their thin faces that they were hungry.
While Samuel spoke with the banker, she chose two slices of cornbread, ones loaded heavily with jam, and made her way across the street. The children's eyes widened when they saw her coming.
The older boy poked the younger on the shoulder. They quickly turned away from her.
"Wait!" she called out.
Immediately they stopped, turning to face her. Their faces were even thinner up close. Their eyes showed fear.
Julia tried to put them at ease. "You both look hungry. Would you like some bread and jam?"
Fear melted into smiles as she knelt to hand them each a slice.
"Thanky ma'am," the older one said.
The younger boy grinned, busily enjoying the jam.
"Are you brothers?"
"Yes'um. We is."
"What are your names?"
"I'm Elijah and this here's Elisha."
Julia grinned. "Well Elijah and Elisha, it is such a warm day, would you like a cup of cold water? We have plenty at the table."
"Thanky ma'am but no. We gotta be off. Our master be "spectin' us."
She stood fully erect, not wanting them to be late. "All right then, run along'but I will be in the churchyard each day at noon. Come back and see me."
They nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes'um. We'z will. Thanky."
They scampered off, jam staining their dark faces. Julia chuckled to herself and once again crossed the street. She sensed somehow, God was smiling.
"
Sam had been watching her from the corner of his eye but the moment the banker walked into the church, he gave his full attention to Julia and the children.
They were slaves. He could tell by looking at them. His heart ached at the prospect of the young lads spending the rest of their lives in backbreaking bondage. More and more, he was looking forward to the meeting he planned to attend. He prayed that he might indeed be able to do "fine work' to help boys like these. For the moment, though, he chose to focus on the smiles Julia was coaxing, the bellies she was filling.
When the two boys ran off, Julia crossed the street. On her face was that innocent, sweet expression that he found so irresistible.
"You did a very good thing, just now," he said.
She blinked, her long dark lashes fluttering. "How so?"
"They are slave children, Julia. Most people wouldn't even notice them much less go out of their way to give them something to eat."
"They were hungry," she said.
"Yes. I am certain that they were. You made a difference in their life today."
"It was nothing."
"Yes, it was. Most people don't realize how hard life is for them. If they did, things would be a lot different."
Her eyes shrank suspiciously. "You mean the war?"
"I mean life."
He realized he was treading on dangerous ground. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument. The day had been so pleasant. He wanted to keep it that way.
She studied him for a moment, her dark curls framed by that butternut bonnet. "Samuel," she suddenly asked him, "what exactly are your intentions concerning the abolitionist viewpoint? Do you advocate the methods of men like John Brown?"
He was caught off guard by her directness. He wondered for a moment if she somehow knew of Dr. Carter's friends. Did she know something of their history? Were they indeed radicals?
Deciding that couldn't possibly be so, he answered honestly, "I don't know what my intentions are at this moment, Julia, but I do know that holding people hostage, slave or free, is wrong."
She nodded slowly, contemplatively.
He was encouraged by the silence.
"Is that what has been bothering you?" he dared to ask. "Do you think I am going to run off with radicals and start my own war? That I would be willing to shoot other men to make my own point?"
"No," she said. "I know you would not do such. You don't want to fight."
His shoulders slumped. She knew him better than anyone yet when it came to this issue, she simply did not understand.
"Julia, it isn't that. I'"
Something over his shoulder captured her attention.
Her face blanched and her eyes immediately widened in fear. Sam turned to see what she was looking at.
Two Federal soldiers were approaching.
"
Julia's knees were wobbly beneath her petticoats and her hands were shaking. She tried to breathe normally but the best she could do was grab small snatches of air. The soldiers approached the table. Their muskets glinted in the afternoon sun.
"What's in your barrel?" one of them asked.
"Cold water," Samuel replied. "Would you gentlemen care for a drink?"
They nodded gruffly.
Julia watched as he ladled out a cupful for them both. One drank readily. The other surveyed the table.
She wondered if the man somehow knew who was pro-Union and who was not. She was thankful Sally was not there. She feared what might happen if Stephen's letter was still in her pocket.
"We have bread, as well," Samuel said, "if you are hungry."
They helped themselves, dirty hands and all. One of the men grinned at her. Samuel either did not notice or did not care. He started conversing.
"Where are you gentlemen from?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Is that so? I went to school in Philadelphia."
Samuel may feel comfortable speaking with such men but she certainly did not. Their language was coarse. She did not like the way their eyes kept scouring the table, the way they kept looking at her.
Lord, help me.
One of the water barrels, the smaller of the two, was empty. As discreetly as she could, Julia picked it up and
started for the church side door. She rounded the building, then stole a quick glance back.
The blue uniforms were still there.
The hour was almost through and the prayer meeting would dismiss at any moment. Julia decided to put away the one barrel then wait safely in the foyer for her parents.
She realized she had left her serving tray at the table but did not return to fetch it. When her father's carriage rolled from the churchyard, Samuel was still conversing with the soldiers.
What can he possibly be talking about?
Her suspicions grew. She feared somehow he was revealing details from Stephen's letter and that the soldiers would soon descend upon an unsuspecting Confederate Army.
Returning home, Julia was in a fretful state. She took care of her afternoon chores then hurried to Sally's for the sewing circle.
Her friend was waiting for her at the front door.
"And how was the prayer meeting?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose, but where were you?"
"Father had a council meeting and I though it best to remain at home." She grinned slyly. "Did you speak with Sam?"
"I did and I apologized."
Her grin widened.
"Don't get your hopes up," Julia said. "I will not change my mind. Not when he is so friendly with the Federal Army."
"What do you mean?"
Julia told her about the soldiers. "Watch what you say around him, Sally."
"Sam would never betray our confidences."
"Perhaps not intentionally but what if the soldiers press him for information?"
Sally bit her lip, considering the thought. She then tugged at Julia's sleeve.
"Come help me serve the cold tea."
They stepped into the parlor. The girls were all in attendance except for Rebekah. Julia wondered if she'd had enough of rebel traitors and decided not to come back. Sally made no mention of her. As she filled up the glasses with the sweet liquid Julia whispered, "Why don't we work on socks today, like Trudy suggested before."