Redfield Farm: A Novel of the Underground Railroad (16 page)

I was a loyal birthright Quaker, in spite of my error. I loved the order and, even though I’d deviated from its teachings, still held them dear. So I was prepared to pay for my transgression and move on.

I stayed close to home that winter, taking Sam out only to go to Meeting or to visit Rebecca. One afternoon when I was home alone, there came a knock on the door. I peeked through the window and saw Pru Hartley standing on the porch. Pru usually didn’t knock. She stood in the yard until I noticed her and went out to see what she wanted. Knocking would indicate she wanted to come in. I sighed. Might as well get it over with.

“Afternoon, Pru.”

“Afternoon. I was out this way, and thought I’d stop an’ see yer young’un.”

I knew all she wanted was to confirm the rumors, but I let her in. Pru had no position in the community, but she relished the chance to be first with any tidbit of gossip, as though it gave her a moment’s respect.

Sam was sleeping in his cradle by the window, and I nodded toward him. Pru was quick to size up the situation.

“By God, he
is
a nigger! They said he was, but I never believed it. You, Ann Redfield! You Miss Perfect Quaker Lady! Humph! I might’a knowed. You ain’t as high an’ proper as you claim.”

I stood dumbfounded. What had I ever done to deserve such venom? I struggled to find my voice. “That’s enough, Pru. You’ve no right to come into my home and berate me.”

“Oh, excuse me, Miss Perfect Quaker Lady. Did I offend you? I’m so sorry!” she whined.

“Please leave, Pru. Get on home with you. You’ve no room to talk.”

She turned and faced me squarely, her eyes bright with spite. “I’ll leave when I’m ready, and not before. You always did think you was better’n anybody. Now we’ll see what your nigger savin’ has got you.”

I reached behind me for the broom, swung it around to face her. “You will go
now
. I won’t put up with any more of this. I don’t know why you have to be so mean all the time. I’ve never done anything to you!” I moved toward her.

She stepped aside and raised her arm as though to parry a blow. I hadn’t thought of actually hitting her. I simply wanted to get rid of her. Now I moved toward her, threatening.

“Get out! Get out, or so help me, I’ll thrash the life out of you!”

She edged her way slowly to the door, eyeing me warily. “No call to get so nasty.”

“Nasty! I’ll show you nasty!” I flew at her as she slid out the door. When I was sure she was gone, I sat down in Papa’s chair in front of the fireplace, head in my hands and cried. Sam, awakened by the commotion, cried, too. I picked him up and held him close, rocked and soothed him, while my own heart pounded. This was just the beginning.

Ï

Mrs. Mills and Mrs. Baker, my committee, would counsel me about my error and interview relatives and close associates about my character. Then they would report back to the Monthly Meeting, and my punishment would be pronounced. It was public humiliation, but without malice. Friends would take no joy in it.

They arrived on Fourth Day, Mrs. Mills driving the buggy with Mrs. Baker at her side. I invited them into the parlor while Abby, on the edge of defiance on my behalf, tended Sam in the kitchen. We three sat facing each other in the parlor.

The two women were obviously perplexed. They’d expected contrition, humility, meekness. I displayed none of these. While I acknowledged my error, I refused to disavow Josiah or Sam.

“I do not, nor did I
intend
it in the first place.”

“Ann Redfield, your sin was great. You compound it now with arrogance. Pride is as great a sin as adultery,” Mrs. Mills pronounced.

“That may be,” I replied, “but my transgressions are my own. I don’t blame others nor make excuses. I acknowledge my sin. Now it is for the Society to decide my fate.”

The two women looked uncomfortable. There seemed little else to say, so they rose and I escorted them to the door.

“We have yet to question others on your character,” Mrs. Baker reminded me. “That will take a week or more. We will report our findings at the next Monthly Meeting.”

I nodded. I stood on the front porch and watched them drive out of the dooryard. It occurred to me that I might have been more accommodating, but I dismissed the possibility. Let the process continue to its natural conclusion.

Abby had been listening at the door and was now barely able to contain her anger. “Who do they think they are?” she fumed. “I’ll bet they’ve done as bad or worse. Wait till they ask
me
about your character. I’ll give them an earful!”

“Oh, Abby, calm down. They’re not malicious. They’re just doing their duty as they see it.”

“Well, I can’t wait till I get a chance to sit on a committee for one of them or their daughters. I’ll teach
them
about pride!”

“No doubt you will,” I laughed.

Abby set the table for lunch. Amos had ridden out to visit Betsy and Will in New Paris, and Nathaniel was in Bedford on business.

Jesse came in from the barn and stopped to warm his hands by the fire before picking up Sam. The baby smiled and wriggled his delight.

Looking down at the baby in my brother’s arms, I replied, “The world has a long way to go, Jesse. Even Quakers. Sam shouldn’t have to pay for my sins, either, but he will.”

“I know,” he replied. “The Friends will accept him, but there will be many who won’t.”

I sighed. “A man is a man. None better than the next. What is it in him that needs to create hierarchies?”

“I don’t know. There’s always a pecking order, though, and man isn’t the only animal that does it. They all pick on the weak or the different.”

“Yes, but man is supposed to be guided by reason. Yet he gives in to the folly of thinking himself better than others.”

“Makes you wonder what God had in mind when he planted that seed.”

Abby listened to our conversation, a frown furrowing her brow. “Well, Sam shouldn’t have to start out that way. He’s as good as any other baby. Wouldn’t it be awful if some of those slave catchers kidnapped him and sold him to be a slave?”

I hushed her. She gave voice to what we all feared, but saying it made it more terrible.

Jesse laid the baby in his cradle and sat down at the table. “It won’t ever come to that, Abby. Sam will be safe. We’ll keep him safe.” Listening to Jesse’s words, I wondered how.

The committee’s work was done by the next Monthly Meeting, and the charge was read to the whole congregation. “Ann Redfield found guilty of fornication by having a child in an unmarried state, and is therefore disowned.”

Even though I knew it was coming, I was stunned by the pronouncement. I ached in sorrow for my father, brothers and sisters, embarrassed by my public humiliation. Bringing shame on my family was my greatest regret.

We rode home from Meeting in silence. Amos, Jesse, Nathaniel, and I. Abby snuggled down in back under heavy quilts with Sam. No one spoke, not even Amos, for whom the hurt was greatest. But it was heavy on our minds.

“A
nn,” Jesse offered when we were home in our kitchen,
“would you like to go away until this blows over? Spend a week or so with Mary and maybe some time with Rachel?”

I considered the idea. It
would
be good to get away for a while, and I’d enjoy visiting my sisters.

“Do you think you could get on without me?”

Jesse nodded, and Abby piped up, “Of course! I could keep house while you’re gone. It’d be fun!”

So Sam and I went visiting. Jesse took us in the sleigh to Mary’s new, large farmhouse in Osterburg. Full of children and noise, the house was the center of a prospering farm. Mary and Noah Poole had five children, twenty cows, seven hogs, four horses, numerous chickens, and seventy acres of land. Their lives were full, but not too full to welcome Baby Sam and me.

Kind hearted Mary took to Sam with the same generous love she lavished on her own.

“Oh, Ann, he’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, taking Sam from my arms. “I’m so glad you came. We’ve had so little time together in the past nine years.”

“We’ve a lot to catch up on! What a houseful you have, Mary! How do you keep up with it all?”

“One day at a time, so Noah tells me,” she said with a smile. Then, looking at Sam, “This little one. Bright as a new penny. He’ll keep you hopping, Sister.”

Noah Poole, round faced and ruddy, teased and joked with me and his children at every turn. “Do you know, Ann, I love your sister still? But she’s never still!” He laughed as though his joke were new. It was a delight to see Mary so happy with such a good-humored man.

After a few days in Osterburg, I wrote to Rachel, asking if we could visit her in Altoona. Her response came quickly:

Dear Ann,

Jacob and I would love to have you and Sam come for a visit. We miss our dear family. Please try to get Mary and Noah to come along. They could use some time away, and it would such a treat to see them.

Love, Rachel

Mary and Noah, delighted by the invitation, arranged for Noah’s brothers to do the chores, and two of his sisters volunteered to care for the children.

“You see, my dear,” Noah told Mary, “how easy it is to get away? We should do it more often!”

We arrived in Altoona late on Third Day, grateful for Rachel’s iron stoves in both the kitchen and parlor. Grates in the ceiling opened to let the heat rise into the upstairs rooms. Rachel, expecting her first baby in May, was still radiant. As she matured, her beauty reminded me more and more of Mother’s. Maybe that was why Rachel had such a special place in Amos’s heart. She was so happy to see us. Except for Abby’s and my quick overnight last summer, she’d seen no family since leaving Bedford County.

Sam was sleeping when we arrived, and I couldn’t help but notice Rachel’s eyes fall when she first looked at him. Nothing was said, but my stomach felt cold. Could my own sister be hateful? When Jacob arrived home from work and saw Sam, he was clearly disturbed.

“I had no idea you had a Nigger baby,” he said, making no effort to hide his disapproval. “Bad enough he’s a bastard, but a black bastard to boot!”

“Jacob!” Rachel moved to silence him, her eyes pleading. He backed away from Sam as though the child carried something contagious.

Noah Poole stepped forward. “No need to be coarse about it,” he told Jacob.

“I told Rachel that slave saving operation would come to no good. Now you’ve got yourself in a mess! What are you going to do with that one?” Jacob continued, with a quick jerk of his head toward Sam.

After he left, we sat in silence for a while. What could I say? Finally I found the strength to voice my decision. “Rachel, I can’t stay. I’ll go back to Osterburg with Mary and Noah tomorrow.”