Redfield Farm

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Redfield Farm Page 18

by Judith Redline Coopey


  “Well, to begin with, I wouldn’t tell my brother Cooper anything I knew about you Redfields. He’s helpin’ a slave catcher from Maryland ever’ chance he gits. Makes him a little money at it. I could close my eyes, is what I mean.”

  “You must think we’re into this pretty deep.”

  “I reckon.”

  I eyed her warily. I couldn’t tell how much of what she said came from knowledge and how much was speculation. Given the Hartley family history, I couldn’t help but note that none of them ever got out of bed early enough to keep track of much of anything. Still, suspicious as they were, Jesse and I needed to be more than careful.

  “What would it take to keep you from talking to Cooper?”

  “A new coat would help for this winter. Like that green one I seen you wearin’ a week or so ago. That’d do.”

  My coat wasn’t new. It was a hand-me-down from Aunt Alice Grainger. Uncle Sammy had given it to me after she died. I liked that it had been hers. Liked the way it fit. Liked how warm it was. Suddenly I realized where this would lead. “No. I’m not giving you my coat. You’re reading far more into this idea of the Underground Railroad than is real. I’ll see if I can get you a coat from the poor committee.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I can’t help it if Cooper and his friends come callin’.”

  “Let them come,” I said wearily. “They’ve been here before.”

  Ï

  I told Jesse about Pru’s thinly veiled threats when he came in from the barn. “Nothing new there,” he replied. “Cooper Hartley’s just like his old man. Take a nickel any way he can get one.”

  “Yes, but it seems to me this business is getting meaner every day,” I complained.

  “Traffic increases, and so does the anger in the South. They mean to make the North enforce the law. Gives people like Cooper reason to hope they can get rich.”

  “I’d hate to be a constable. Even if they’re sympathetic to the runaways, they have to help the slave catchers.”

  “Yeah. I’ve often wondered about old Ackroyd. Whether he’s really as hateful as he acts. For all we know, he might be helping fugitives, too.” Jesse grinned at the thought of the constable running his own delivery system.

  “You know, though, Jesse, I’m always surprised at the number of Bedford County folk who side with us. They aren’t all dough-faces like the Hartleys.”

  Jesse picked up his hat and set it on his head. “We can be glad of that!” he said. “Now I’ve gotta go talk to Ben. Come along?”

  I looked around at the mound of washing I had to do and declined. “Tell Rebecca I’ll try to visit toward the end of the week.”

  Abby and Elias returned on Second Day of the first week in November. According to Abby, Elias seemed completely befuddled by Melissa’s condition, left all interaction with her to her family, and made his own exit as quickly as possible. Abby voiced her anger.

  “He doesn’t care a whit for her or the baby in hard times,” she grumbled. “All he wanted was a pretty wife, but he doesn’t want any of it if there’s trouble attached.” She clucked her tongue in disgust.

  I must admit, at first I felt a certain ‘serves you right’ satisfaction in Elias’ troubles, though I felt more compassion for Melissa than I expected. Elias deserved some comeuppance for the way he’d treated me. He’d turned to me in his time of trouble. That gave me satisfaction, but I kept it to myself. Chastised myself for my pride.

  Melissa was gone the whole winter. Elias went to Chambersburg for short visits, but time wasn’t kind to the couple. Melissa, though seemingly well enough when with her family, showed no inclination to return to Bedford County as Elias’ wife. Her fears of pregnancy, childbirth, being saddled with many children, submitting to her husband’s needs—in short, the common lot of women everywhere, made her hide when Elias came to see her. So she stayed in Franklin County, and Elias didn’t push for her return. He wasn’t happy, but he was learning that there are some things a man can’t control.

  Watching the sad relationship play out, I thought myself lucky to have lost Elias Finley. He seemed less and less like husband material. I laughed at such thoughts. What did I know of husbands?

  Elias lived alone, worked steadily with Ben and kept to himself except to attend Meeting. Rebecca did his laundry and sent Deborah over once a week to keep the house in order. Elias took his meals at Ben’s, slowly slipping into a solitary life. By spring, it was apparent to all, except perhaps Elias, that Melissa would never return. His life was suspended—a married man without a wife. He didn’t speak of her unless someone asked, in which case he turned away questions with as little explanation as possible. Embarrassed by his situation, he tried to avoid it by ignoring it.

  As I watched the unraveling of my former suitor’s life, a surprising sympathy began to form. My anger faded, and I was left with only sadness for both Elias and Melissa and their little daughter, Lucy. I could blame neither for their failure, for I understood such tragedy played out in peoples’ lives more often than anyone could guess.

  Though distracted by Elias’ troubles, I was still in the depths over Sam’s loss. I thought about him constantly—how old he would be, what he would be doing. Walking. Talking. Josiah wrote about once a month, letters full of Sam’s accomplishments. I was grateful to be included, even remotely, in his life. I knit him mittens, a cap, and a tiny muffler to keep him warm in cold Ontario. For Christmas, I made him a warm coat out of a length of blue wool I’d been saving. Little by little, I pulled out of my grief. The knowledge that he was well, happy, cared for, and loved took some—but not all—of the sting out of losing him.

  It was mid-winter before I could talk to Jesse about sending Sam away. I knew he understood why I’d done it. Still I needed to talk to him. One January night as we walked home from Ben’s, I broached the subject.

  “I want to talk to you about Sam.”

  “No need, Ann. I know.”

  “It matters to me what you think.”

  “I think you did what you had to do.”

  “Yes. But my heart went with him. I never wanted to be anything but a good mother. I couldn’t have loved him more.”

  Jesse stopped, looking at me in the snowy moonlight. “You’ve no need to explain to me, Ann. I knew when you took him that you’d come home alone. I knew why. I wanted to help you get through it if I could. Now I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you to lean on. It took a while to control my own grief. But I knew we’d talk when the time was right.”

  “Thank you for knowing I was beyond talking for a long time.” I stopped in the path and turned to look at him.

  “Sure.”

  “Jesse?”

  “Uh huh?”

  “Where does my life go from here? We both know marriage isn’t in my future. What now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe someday someone’ll come along for you. Time changes people’s perceptions. But I know this. You’re the one we all rely on in times of trouble. No matter who’s in need. No matter what the need. Look how Elias turned to you when his life came apart. And me. What would I do without you now that my arm’s crippled? Somehow that’s got to come back to you.”

  We walked along the snow covered path in silence. Then, without warning, Jesse broke into a run, slowing a second to scoop up a handful of snow. He turned and pelted me with a snowball, then another. Protecting my face with my arms, I scooped up my own snowball, heaving it directly at his face. Now he was running at me, throwing an armload of snowballs one after the other. I ducked behind a tree quick, to make him miss. Then I let loose a torrent from the shelter of the tree, pelting him with a series of well-placed globs of mushy snow. Jesse came through the onslaught, head down, determined to roust me from my fortress. He grabbed me from the side, wrestled me down one handed and washed my face in the snow.

  I screamed, then laughed as the cold, wet snow went down my neck. “You, Jesse. Drat you, Brother. That’s not fair!” I complained. “You’re stronger than I.”

/>   “Sure it’s fair, Annie. We all have our weaknesses.”

  Chapter 23

  1858 – Summer

  One evening as I sat alone in the kitchen, reading, I heard a quiet tap at the window, almost like a scratch. Someone was outside. I rose, turned out the lamp, and walked out on the back porch. Fugitives often came under cover of darkness, so, though cautious, I thought I knew what to expect. I stepped off the porch and around the side of the house. There was no moon, another reason to expect fugitives. All was dark and strangely silent. I felt a presence. Peering into the darkness, I asked, “Who’s there?”

  “A friend.” There was no mistaking that voice. Josiah! In a moment I was in his arms, enfolded like a baby, rocked slowly back and forth.

  “Josiah! What are you doing here?” I asked, through sudden tears. “What about Sam? And Lettie?”

  He held me close for a long time, breathing into my hair. “They fine. They send they love.”

  “But why? Why are you here?”

  He held me at arm’s length. “Got some business down in Virginny. Won’t take long.”

  “Business in Virginia? What business?”

  “My mamma. Goin’ to bring her out.”

  “Oh, Josiah, no! What if you get caught? What if something happens to you? What will Sam and Lettie do?”

  “Sam and Lettie and Ann,” he added.

  “Ann?”

  “Two months old,” he grinned. “Named after her guardian angel.”

  The tears came again. “Are you and Lettie all right? About Sam, I mean.”

  “Yes, Ann.” He looked levelly at me. “We all right. Lettie a good woman. I told you that. She love Sam like her own.”

  I looked up at him, my emotions on edge. “Now what is this about your mother? I thought you didn’t know where she was.”

  “Didn’t. Early spring a man come to Dresden from Shenandoah County, Virginny. Place called Mt. Jackson. He from the same place my mamma on. We talk long about where it is and how he come up from there to Cumberland and the rest of the way.”

  I led him into the kitchen. “How do you know it’s really your mother?”

  “Her name Mandy. She a house slave, personal servant to the mistress. Like Lettie. My mamma brought up in that. She the right age, about fifty. Man say she always talkin’ ’bout her little boy Josiah, that she got sold away from.”

  I smiled at that. “She’ll be surprised to see how her ‘little boy’ has grown.”

  I re-lit the lamp, pulled the curtains so we couldn’t be seen from the road, and set a cup of coffee on the table for him.

  “You recall Jesse’s accident.”

  Josiah nodded. “Sorry to hear it. Good man, Jesse. Helped a lot of folk.”

  “He’s not the same man he was. His left arm isn’t entirely useless, but it’s pretty weak. He doesn’t do much of the heavy work anymore.”

  “Where he now?”

  “Over in Osterburg, visiting Mary and Noah Poole.”

  “Can’t linger here. Gotta get down into Virginny soon as I can, grab my mamma and get back.”

  “Does she know you’re coming?”

  “No. Couldn’t risk tryin’ to get word to her. The less people who know, the better. Gonna find the plantation, camp out as close as I can and try to contact her.”

  “I’ll be worried sick about you. This is such a dangerous business, and Sam needs you, Josiah.”

  He nodded. “I know, but I couldn’t let my mamma die a slave, and me knowin’ where she is.”

  I sighed. I understood that deep sense of responsibility only too well. “All right. I can move you down to Cumberland maybe tomorrow or the next day. I know someone who trades there. He brings people back with him when the need arises, but I doubt if he’s ever taken anyone down.”

  “Thank you, Ann. I knew you’d help. If I’m lucky this shouldn’t take but a week or so. Hope to move right back north through the same stations I come on.”

  “I hope you’re lucky. Otherwise, I’ll be sick with worry. You can sleep in Jesse’s room tonight. He’ll be back in the morning.” I went upstairs to find him some linen, struggling with the desire to fall asleep in his arms. When I returned to the kitchen I found Papa and Abby, back from a visit to Ben’s.

  “Josiah’s here,” I told them.

  “Josiah? You mean him, Josiah?” Abby blurted. “What’s he doin’ here?”

  “He’s headed back south to bring his mother out.”

  “How long’s he gonna be here?”

  “Not long. I’m going over to see Tyler Pell in the morning—see if he’s going to Cumberland anytime soon.”

  Abby looked hard at me for any sign of intimacy between Josiah and me, but I kept that well concealed in my heart.

  “What’s he say of Sam?” she wanted to know.

  “That he’s well and happy and that he has a baby sister.”

  “That’s good!” Abby cried, as though that made any further attraction between Josiah and me impossible.

  I went to bed with plans for Josiah’s trip in my head, but sleep eluded me. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I longed to share my bed with him, to be held as only he had held me. Morning was slow in coming, as was relief from the yearning.

  I cooked breakfast for Amos and Nathaniel, and more for Josiah when he came downstairs. Abby watched us with a vigilance that would have impressed a hawk. I assigned her to the spinning, took the horse Nathaniel saddled for me and rode away to the Pell farm near Fishertown.

  Tyler Pell was in his field when I arrived; I walked between the corn rows to talk to him. Tyler had a truck farm, and Cumberland, Maryland, was his best market. Yes, he was going to Cumberland later that day to get a head start for tomorrow’s early market. Yes, he could conceal a man and deliver him into safe hands, if there was anyone fool enough to want to go back. Yes, he could be counted on to provide transport back on market day a week, under cover of darkness. He was known on the road between Cumberland and Bedford, so it shouldn’t be a problem. I thanked him, promising to deliver the ‘package’ early that afternoon.

  At home, I went to the barn to unsaddle the horse and found Jesse and Josiah, sitting on a couple of upturned logs, talking like conspirators. Jesse had drawn a crude map on the barn floor with a horseshoe nail and was apprising Josiah of safe houses on the way south.

  “Once you’re in Cumberland, Pell can settle you with Jeremiah Hobbs. He’s been a conductor for years and will know the safe houses down probably as far as Romney, at least. You’ll be in the mountains, mostly on seldom traveled roads. That’s good in some ways and not so good in others,” Jesse counseled him.

  I joined them, nodding to Jesse. “Mary’s well, I hope.”

  “Well—and looking forward to a visit from you.”

  “I see you two have laid out a plan.”

  Josiah smiled. “Ann ain’t happy about me goin’ south again. She worried about Sam.”

  “With good reason,” Jesse replied. “I wouldn’t try what you’re doing, but I wish you success and Godspeed.”

  “Josiah, do you need anything for the journey?” I asked.

  “No, thank you. Knowin’ where to go and who to count on all I need. The rest take care of itself.”

  I remembered my errand. “Tyler Pell’s leaving this afternoon for Cumberland. Jesse can take you over to his house in the wagon, and he’ll hide you among his vegetables for the trip.”

  “That be fine. Thank you, Ann. I should get to Mt. Jackson in two or three days. Then contact my mama. If she willin’, it take a day or so to set up a plan. Her bein’ house help, we run at night, soon as she’s off, to give us a start before they know she gone. I’m still hopin’ to be back here in a week.”

  Jesse listened intently to Josiah’s plan. It had to be loose. There was no other way, but loose bothered Jesse.

  “Wish I could take you down, like Ann traveled with Lettie. Like a Southern gentleman and his slave,” he told Josiah.

  The conversation stoppe
d. Josiah looked at Jesse with hope in his eyes. I looked at both of them with fear.

  “I know the road to Cumberland,” Jesse continued. “I could get you that far as well as Tyler Pell. From then on, we’d just let ourselves be passed from one safe house to the next. What do you say, Josiah? Should we try it?”

  Josiah’s face broke into a huge grin. He shook Jesse’s good hand. “You ’n me, together, we can do it just fine.”

  I kept silent, sure that expressing my fears wouldn’t change any minds. I excused myself and went back to the house already planning for their needs. Jesse would need some fancy clothes. Maybe Betsy’s brother-in-law would have something. It meant a day or two delay until we could fit the two of them up for the masquerade. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I prepared the noon meal. Why did men insist on courting danger?

  Two days later, two days and nights filled with worry and longing, we saw them off on the road to Cumberland. Then I settled down to the hardest waiting I’ve ever done.

  Jesse looked so fine, dressed in gentlemen’s clothes. Josiah chafed at donning slave’s overalls again. They took Ben’s buggy and a good team. Not the best, so as not to attract too much attention, but a good, solid, reliable team. The plan was to travel in daylight. No one would question a white gentleman with a Negro headed south. When they got to Mt. Jackson, Jesse would approach the owner of the plantation—actually it was little more than a farm, according to Josiah’s source—saying he was returning south with a runaway, and ask for hospitality. Josiah would be chained up in the barn while Jesse was wined and dined, but it would be his chance to contact his mother.

 

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