by Michael Ross
Sara looked at him compassionately. “Oh, Will! I’m so sorry. I know she means so much to you. You have to make your own decisions, just like your Pa said. But think, Will! Think! Isn’t there some truth in what she says? There’s still time. Go to Dr. Simpson. Talk with him. I believe even yet he would relent.”
Will became stubborn. “No. I know you’re trying to help, Ma. You know I don’t stand for slavery. Why, even this Abraham Lincoln said just a while that he is not for equality of the white and black races, that he favors white superiority. Most folks, North and South, think that way. Even an Irishman thinks he’s better than a Negro, not to mention an Indian. I am neither for slavery nor against it. It simply has nothing to do with me. Why will no one understand that? All I want is a peaceful life, to study law, and raise a family. Is that so wrong?”
“No, Will, it isn’t,” said Sara gently. “But in these times, people will assign you a side if you don’t choose one. There is guilt by association. The Bible says bad company corrupts good morals. People assume your views are the same as Morgan’s, because you are in the Rifles. Are your convictions worth losing Jenny? She loves you, Will. Your sister’s husband, Hiram, is right on one thing: the time is coming when you’ll have to take sides. I don’t like your Pa being in the Guard. I don’t like you being in the Rifles. Even worse, I can’t stand the thought that you might face one another on opposite sides of a battlefield. What then, Will? What will your convictions mean then? Think on that.” She turned away and went back to his father.
✳ ✳ ✳
Julia felt lost and overwhelmed. She stood outside the Lutheran church in Cincinnati waiting for the processional for her wedding. The sky threatened rain. Had it not been for Albinia with her, she might have run to find the nearest train. Albinia said her sister was not going to get married with no one from the family present, if she had to spend six months wages to get there. For almost three months, Julia endured the prodding of her mother-in-law. Hiram was sweet and attentive when he was around. So often, he was enmeshed in the business or drilling with the blasted Guard. They did have some fun times. They rode in the sleigh. He took her to plays and the opera. They talked, and he actually listened to her, not treating her as a child.
It was March now. She’d heard the news about Will and Jenny. Why wouldn’t this war leave them alone? It hadn’t even started yet, and already was causing misery. Lincoln’s recent speech at Cooper Union in New York had only deepened stubbornness on both sides. She hadn’t slept last night, not a wink. Tossing and turning, she was afraid and excited about what the next day would bring. Her stomach felt nauseous, but she knew she had to eat the cake and delicacies at the reception. Mama Kirsten had been very specific about what she expected of her. There would be an interpreter present, to give the English translation of the ceremony for her. Everything would be in Latin and Swedish. She felt scatterbrained. How was she supposed to behave like a polished grand dame, when she felt like a frightened little girl? How she wished her own mother could be here! Even without training, her mother always seemed to know what to do, what to say, in any situation. Julia looked over gratefully at Albinia. She was ashamed for having snapped while Albinia helped her dress.
“Any time now,” Albinia whispered, giving her arm a squeeze. Albinia had offered to sew her dress, but Hiram wouldn’t hear of it, ordering from a designer in New York. Julia managed a weak smile.
“Promise you’ll write to me. I … I know I’ve often been a bossy sister, not the best confidant. But I can’t tell you how I’ve missed you these last months. It’s like another world here. Mama Kirsten is always after me, and not the sweet little reminders like our mother. Oh, I’ve learned a lot. So often, though, I wish I were back home watching the chickens or Lydia. Then I see Hiram, and he reminds me that I’ve learned to love him. I really do! But I’m so glad you came!”
“Don’t cry and make your eyes red. It’s almost time. I will write whenever I can. I’ve missed you too, even your bossiness. Come to Lexington when you can.”
They heard the organ playing the processional. The ushers swung the doors open wide. Julia felt Albinia following her, attending to her train. How she wished little Lydia could have been in front, scattering flower petals! Then she looked out through the veil and saw Hiram waiting at the altar, beaming. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
LOST AND FOUND
March 1860
Albinia felt nothing was the same. Her world was changing around her, unbidden. Spring beckoned, and should have been a time of joy. This year, it seemed as though in her world, things died before they bloomed. Julia was gone. David was gone. Her father and Will were seldom home, and increasingly distant from one another. She noticed Will morosely and mechanically going about his tasks, without his usual energy and drive. His break with Jenny seemed to make him a pale shadow. For the people in her life, it seemed like a spring where the plants did not come up and decided to remain in the ground. All the month of March, and into April, she felt as though an impending storm was about to break. It would come lashing and drowning all she held dear. The apprehension was wearing. Her secrets and constant dissembling erected unseen walls between her and her family, but she didn’t know how to stop it. There had been no Underground Railroad activity for a few weeks now.
She walked out along the paths to the fields with Lydia running ahead. Only little Lydia, growing up but still blissfully unaware of tensions, provided a bright spot in each day. Albinia made a morning walk part of their routine, enjoying her sister’s childish delight in a flower, or a bird, to relieve the void in her own heart. She pondered her situation, her reverie interrupted occasionally by some exclamation from Lydia or a tug at her hand.
During the early part of the year, she spent more time with Joe, but now, as spring came, she felt a choice pressing in upon her. She’d avoided the Valentine’s box social. The previous social she’d attended with him felt awkward. Yet he persisted, showing up at the shop, leaving tokens and gifts, even inviting her to Sunday dinner at the parson’s house. She wanted to be loyal to David, yet, in some ways, Joe did attract her. He was sweet, attentive, and handsome. His family was prominent. He was a Union sympathizer, staunchly against slavery. Her father approved of him. Many girls would love to have his attentions. Moreover, he was present, right here, not hundreds of miles away. So what was it that held her to David? Joe was … safe. And maybe … maybe that was the problem. All her girlhood, she had been the good little girl who followed the rules, worked for the family, tried to be proper, never stepping outside the boundaries. With David, a new exciting world opened. She was helping people, making a difference. It would be easy to settle down with Joe, follow convention and raise a family, rest in economic security. Yet Joe’s father was a slave owner, and his brother drilled with the Rifles. She supposed she shouldn’t hold that against him—after all, her own brother Will was in the Rifles, despite attempts from almost everyone to dissuade him. So was it David or the exciting life he represented that pulled her heart?
She and Lydia were nearing the cabin on their return walk, when they heard the rattle of buggy wheels approaching. Neither Will nor her father were at home. Sara emerged from the cabin with Will’s rifle in her hands. Rustler barked loudly, dancing around the buggy as it came to a halt in front of the cabin in a cloud of dust. Her mother put the gun down and beckoned her.
“Come on, Lyddie. Looks like we’re wanted. Better hurry!” In answer, Lydia began skipping along toward the cabin. Albinia picked up her skirts and walked faster. The Clay crest was on the buggy, and a familiar Negro slave talked to her mother. She recognized Jackson, from Ashland.
“Yes’m, Miz Crump. Miss Lucy she say bring Miss Albinia right away, if she can come. I’m to wait for her answer.”
Albinia came up from behind. “What is it, Jackson? Is Lucy ill?”
“No’m. Not exakly. She fell, tryin’ to come down de stairs by hersef. You know how she can be.” Albinia laughed, then sobered.
&nb
sp; “Is she badly hurt?”
“Jes a sprained ankle, I think. Makes it harder for her to walk, and she’s more ornery. She upset that she ripped her dress, too. Auntie May, she offer to fix it. But Miss Lucy, she say only you can do it so it don’t show.”
“All right, Jackson. Mama, I’m sorry to leave you with Lyddie again. Let me get my things.” She moved toward the cabin.
Lydia hopped from one foot to the other and said, “Could I come? I’ve never seen Ashland. Lucy likes me at church, maybe I could cheer her up.”
“Well, I don’t know…,” said Albinia.
“Mebbe you could, at that,” said Jackson, grinning.
Sara smiled. Albinia still wasn’t sure. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. It’s a longer drive than just to church. What if I have to stay overnight?”
“Oh, goody!” said Lydia. “I’ve never stayed with anyone! Please, Mama?”
Sara seemed to debate, and then said, “All right. If your sister doesn’t mind. But you have to be on your best manners, and don’t touch anything without permission. The Clays have many fine, breakable things.”
Albinia knew when to give up. “You can come then. I don’t want to hear you complain about the long ride. You mustn’t pester Lucy with too many questions. If she seems too tired, you’ll need to go find Sukie or her brothers to play with. Can you do that?”
“Oh, yes! And I’ll bring my doll to show Sukie.”
Albinia suppressed a grin, thinking of the fine china dolls and toys the Clay children had. “Sukie likes to draw, so maybe you can do that with her.”
In a few minutes, they gathered Albinia’s sewing things and overnight items, in case of need, and departed, Sara waving after them.
The ride was anything but boring, with Jackson entertaining Lydia with jokes, stories, and songs. Lydia fairly bounced in time to the bumps. Albinia marveled at how easily Jackson entertained her sister, kept the horses moving, and eyed their surroundings all at the same time. As they arrived at Ashland, Jackson stiffened and assumed a more formal attitude toward the ladies.
“You must settle down now, Lyddie. Put your lady manners on. Don’t get Jackson into trouble,” said Albinia.
“Why would he get in trouble?”
“No time to explain now. Just do as I say.” They got down and went inside, going up the spiral stairs to a bedroom on the left, where Lucy lay in bed waiting for them.
“Good afternoon, Albinia! I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you! You brought Lydia! How are you?”
“More to the point, how are you? Does your ankle hurt much?”
“Yes, like blazes! I’m trying to ignore it. Phoebe here has been keeping ice on it,” referring to her maid who hovered near the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure which is worse: the pain or the annoyance of not being able to move!”
“Good afternoon, Miss Lucy!” said Lydia, remembering her “lady” manners for a moment. “I wanted to come and cheer you up! See?” She displayed a few straggly flowers she picked from the front of the house when Albinia wasn’t looking.
“Lyddie! Those aren’t ours—you shouldn’t have picked them.”
“Nonsense,” said Lucy, smiling. “Our gardener may be vexed, but I am not. You cheer me up already, dear.”
Encouraged, Lydia said, “But Miss Lucy, where’s your mama? Why isn’t she taking care of you? That’s what my mama does when I’m sick.”
Albinia was mortified. “Lyddie!”
“No, it’s all right, Albinia. Lydia, my mother is a great lady. She has many servants and a whole household to manage. Especially with my father traveling so much. Phoebe is my maid, and taking care of me is her job.”
Turning to Phoebe, Lydia said, “Do you like your job? Do you like being a slave for Miss Lucy? I like Jackson. And I like that other man, Luther.”
Appalled, Albinia sternly reprimanded her, “Lydia Dorsey Crump! Didn’t I tell you not to bother Miss Lucy with a lot of fool questions?”
Chastened, Lydia looked doleful. “I’m sorry, Miss Lucy.”
“I do apologize, Lucy. She isn’t used to….”
Just then, Lucy’s mother, Susan Clay, came in. She took in the situation and turned to Phoebe. “That will be all, Phoebe. Take Miss Lydia to the nursery. I believe Sukie is playing there. I will call if you are needed.”
Phoebe and Lydia left, Phoebe never raising her eyes or uttering a word.
“I was just saying I apologize for my sister. We did think she might cheer Lucy up. She doesn’t really understand about slaves, especially Luther.”
Susan looked angry. “I’ll thank you not to mention his name in this house. Ungrateful wretch! We took him in, treated him well, gave him privileges. We trusted him with our daughter and you. And how did he reward us? Running away! Stealing slaves from Mr. Jameson! My husband gave him every consideration. We’ll see what happens when he is caught!”
“You gave him everything … except his freedom, his mother and sisters. Every consideration but that,” said Albinia. Lucy looked shocked.
Susan’s face turned scarlet. “If you’re quite finished, Miss Crump, I intend to secure the services of Mr. George Alberti, a renowned slave catcher from Philadelphia. If anyone can find my property, it would be him. When you’ve completed the repairs to my daughter’s gown, my butler will see you are paid and Jackson will drive you home. I trust the repairs will not take long.”
Susan turned and swept out of the room.
“Whatever possessed you to speak to my mother so?” Lucy demanded. “She’s never been anything but kind to you and your family.”
“I … I … I don’t know. I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t mean to anger her. It’s just … well, I’ve learned to see slaves differently. As people.”
“What do you mean, people? Of course, they’re people. You’ve seen them for years—here, in town, everywhere. Why, a fifth of the population of Lexington are slaves!”
“I mean as individuals—people with feelings, hopes, and dreams. Take Phoebe, for example. What do you really know about her? What she thinks, what she feels, what she wants?”
“Why should I bother? She’s a good maid, she does what she’s told. I treat her fairly. My father provides for her. She’s a great deal better off here than at Jameson’s, from what I’ve heard.”
Albinia turned away. There was truth in what Lucy said. She took the torn gown and her sewing bag, and began to work.
After a few minutes, she spoke again. “But you act like those are the only options. Being here or at Jameson’s. What if she wanted to be somewhere else, be someone else?”
“She can’t. I own her. Besides, you’ve seen her. Sometimes she can barely get my hair ribbons right. How could she manage at something else? She’s lucky to be a house slave.”
“That’s just it. You own her. She has no choices. What if you had been born a slave?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I thought we were friends.”
Albinia finished the stitching and tied it off. She came to the bed, took Lucy’s hands, and looked her in the eye. “You are my dear friend, Lucy. I so enjoy the times we have together. Don’t let’s quarrel. I would be ever so sad. I just want to share the joy I’ve found with you, to open your eyes. Mr. Lincoln, he’s from Kentucky, like us. He says, ‘No man is good enough to govern another without his consent.’ Not even you. We all mistreat each other at times. If someone is mean to me I can protest, or I can get away from him or her. I could even retaliate, though that’s not right. Phoebe dares not say a word. Jesus wants us to treat everyone as we would like to be treated. How would you want to be treated if you were Phoebe? For our friendship, think on it. Now I’ll fetch Lydia, and we can do something fun before I go home if you like.” She hurried away to get Lydia from across the hall.
✳ ✳ ✳
Luther’s days passed swiftly. For the first time in his life, he knew contentment. He learned from Ned, and was well on his way to becoming a competent blacksmith. He learned to make tools, shoe ho
rses, and sharpen knives. The work and good food built his muscles. He was at an age where he grew rapidly. When he made mistakes at the forge, there was no threat of whipping or days without food. Ned gently corrected and showed him how to do the task, again. Olivia blossomed, pitching in to help around the livery and the cabin. Clara ran and played, enjoying all the childish things denied her before. All three of the ladies were learning their letters. He heard Jemima exclaim, “Oh, to read de word of the Lawd!! Mah blessin’ just done overflowed!”
He also studied at night, learning to read and write. Ned said that often orders came in on paper, and there were too many to remember anyway. Reading and writing were necessary skills for business. Luther could see the sense of needing these skills to stay free. The community here was friendly and accepting. No one asked about where he came from. They welcomed him as a new member of their community. From time to time, John Parker, who had sheltered them, came by. Occasionally he wondered what had become of Albinia, to whom he was now very grateful. He supposed he might never see her again.
He stretched, and thought he’d take a break from the forge. It was nearing noon, anyway. Most likely Katy would have lunch for all of them. As he emerged from the barn, Ruth came from behind the cabin, taking clothes down off the line. He walked over just as she was finishing, admiring her as she stooped and rose. She bent to pick up the basket of clothes.
“Here, let me,” said Luther.
She smiled. “All right, Mr. Strong Man. But you watch out! Soon I’ll be getting you to hang ‘em on the line, too!”
Luther took her teasing in stride. “And I’ll be getting you to shoe de horses!” He thought Ruth was one of the prettiest and smartest girls he’d ever met. She was another reason he was working on reading. It embarrassed him that she could read newspapers and books, while he struggled with simple sentences. He was determined to fix that. They walked toward the cabin, laughing and chatting. Luther concentrated on Ruth, not noticing Sam come up behind him, or that he stuck a foot out in front of him, under the laundry basket.