by Ginny Dye
Carrie sat down in the rocking chair after a late lunch, glad to have the porch to herself. So much had happened in such a short period that she was suddenly desperate to have time alone to process it all. She thought briefly about riding Granite to her special place on the river, but her tired body resisted. Pulling her coat closely around her, she rested her head on the back of the chair and gazed up at the brilliant yellow leaves of the oak tree that shaded the house. She thought of all the times she had climbed the tree as a girl. She had seen it grow from a large tree into a truly giant guardian that would forever hold the secret of how many times she had climbed down its sheltering limbs from her window to escape her mother’s attempts to turn her into a proper plantation mistress.
“I’m back home, Mama,” she whispered, and then chuckled as she imagined the look on her mother’s face if she could see her clothed in breeches, boots and her father’s heavy coat. Mama probably would have fainted away with horror. Just being late for meals seemed to have triggered anxiety attacks in her fragile parent. Yet, in the end, she had encouraged Carrie to follow her dream of being a doctor. She would always treasure the last conversation they had shared.
Carrie relished the cool, crisp air. All signs pointed to a snowy, cold winter, but she didn’t mind. They would most assuredly have less snow than Philadelphia, and it would not be covered with black soot before it turned into a foul, gray slush on the streets. It would simply drape the plantation with a luxuriant blanket of white. A surge of peace spread through her body so strongly it elicited a quiet laugh.
“You sound happy.”
Carrie bit back her disappointment at being interrupted. “Hello, Father.”
“Do you need some time alone?”
Carrie loved him for asking because it revealed how well he knew her, but she shook her head. “Never from you.”
Thomas smiled and settled down in the chair next to her. “I would say there were certainly some times when you were frustrated with your old father and would have relished time away from me.”
“Certainly no more than you were frustrated by me through the years,” Carrie said playfully. “I happen to know just how many times you protected me from Mother’s displeasure.”
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t know them all,” Thomas responded. He sobered then. “I’m glad we have reached the stage of our relationship where we are now friends.”
“Me too,” Carrie agreed as she reached out to take his hand. She felt the peace encompass her again as her father’s strong fingers enveloped hers.
They sat that way for several minutes before Thomas cleared his throat. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Carrie straightened in her chair as she heard the seriousness in her father’s voice. “Is anything wrong?”
“No…” her father said. “I’ve merely been trying to come to grips with something. I believe I’m ready to talk about it now.”
Carrie suddenly knew where the conversation was headed, but she waited for him to say what he needed to.
“Your revelation the night before we left to come here was rather disturbing.”
Carrie nodded. “I felt the same way,” she replied. Another long silence fell on the porch, but it was one Carrie was comfortable with. She was content to let her father discuss Lord Oliver Cromwell in the way that worked best for him.
“Did you feel as responsible as I do?” Thomas finally asked.
“I did.”
“You don’t anymore?”
Carrie considered the question. “Not in the way you might be thinking.”
“Could you illuminate me? I have spent hours in the past few days studying the history of England and Ireland during Lord Cromwell’s time. I find it sickening.” He paused, his eyes deeply troubled.
Carrie watched him closely. She knew she had seen little of her father since they arrived, and now she understood why. She was happy to answer his question, but she sensed he had more to say first.
“Since we were here, I decided to go through the records from the beginning of the plantation,” Thomas revealed.
“And…?” Carrie prompted after another long silence.
Thomas sighed. “The first Cromwells had many indentured servants.”
Carrie remained silent. She was not hearing anything she had not already learned and come to grips with.
“You’re not going to remind me they were actually slaves?” Thomas asked ruefully.
“Would you like me to?” Carrie was unsure how to proceed. She was relieved when her father laughed.
“You have turned into a diplomat as you have matured,” he murmured, his voice filled with both surprise and pride.
“I couldn’t stay a child forever,” Carrie reminded him.
“No, but you also didn’t have to become such a magnificent woman. I am very proud of you.”
Carrie glowed with delight as she squeezed his hand tightly. “Thank you, Father. That means the world to me.”
Thomas nodded absently, buried in his thoughts again. “I found the records about the indentured servants,” he continued after a long silence. He took a deep breath. “They were nothing more than slaves.”
“I know,” Carrie replied.
“I knew some of them when I was very young. My grandfather had at least ten white indentured servants, as well as black slaves.”
Carrie didn’t see the need to repeat that all of them were slaves. Her father had accepted the truth. How he communicated it was his business.
“As I said, I was quite young, so I don’t remember what happened to them. I do remember, though, that by the time I was eight or nine, there were only black slaves working Cromwell.” His voice was reminiscent.
Carrie nodded and continued to rock when another long silence filled the porch.
“You’re very much like Abby,” Thomas said suddenly, his voice laced with humor. “She lets me sit with my own thoughts for as long as I need to figure out how to communicate them.”
Carrie smiled. Nothing could make her happier than being compared to the woman who was equal parts mother and mentor to her.
“You’re really just going to let me squirm until I say something about Lord Oliver Cromwell?” her father asked, his voice almost petulant.
Carrie couldn’t contain her chuckle. “You seem to just done that.”
Thomas grimaced. “I suppose I have,” he said. “Our ancestor was quite a barbaric fellow,” he growled.
Carrie nodded, so glad to know they were in agreement. “I wish I could dispute that, but history is quite clear.”
“And you don’t feel responsible?” Thomas pressed.
“Do you?” Carrie turned the question back to him.
This time her father groaned and pressed his face into his hands. “My God. You truly are just like Abby. Did she teach you to never answer a question with anything but a question?”
Carrie was flooded with memories. “Actually, it was Sarah. I used to go to her with questions all the time. I can’t remember a time when she just answered one straight out. She always told me I would appreciate my own answers the most. She just asked questions until I figured out what I really felt or believed.”
“Did you resent her?”
Carrie couldn’t control her grin. “Are you resenting me?”
Thomas laughed loudly and began to pace the porch. “I have felt so many emotions since I learned all this that I hardly know where to start. I’ve felt angry because I have been lied to all my life. I’ve felt intense shame because I can’t believe I’m related to someone who would do what that man did, and then the shame has been multiplied by the fact that I owned slaves until you set them all free. And I’ve felt like a complete fraud because I always believed I was someone special because of the family I came from. I never dreamed that knowledge would end up being something I wished I could pretend had never happened.”
Carrie listened quietly, empathizing as he uttered all the things she had felt. “I understand,” she
said. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she wanted her father to have all the time he needed to sort through his own feelings.
Thomas stopped and looked down at her. “Yes, I’m sure you do. Yet somehow you’ve managed to take all this knowledge and figure out a way to deal with it.”
“It took me some time,” Carrie replied.
Thomas sat down and took both her hands. “Please tell me how you did that,” he pleaded.
Carrie looked into his eyes and knew it was time for a straight answer. “I felt all the things you did, until Biddy helped me understand I could consider it a weighty responsibility, or…” her voice softened even more as she remembered Biddy’s compassionate eyes staring into hers. Her heart caught at the idea she might not see the elderly woman again, but she pushed it away. Biddy might be ninety-seven, but she was strong and healthy. “She helped me realize I could view it simply as a privilege.”
“How?” Thomas asked. “I’m not feeling privileged.”
“Neither did I,” Carrie admitted. She thought about all she had done down in Moyamensing. “I couldn’t go back and change anything that had happened,” she said, “but I could do something about now, and I could help create a different future with my actions. When cholera struck Moyamensing, I knew it was my opportunity to begin to do that.” She gazed out over the plantation, watching the horses playing in the field. “I don’t know if I would have felt the same compulsion to help if I hadn’t also felt the weight of the responsibility. I truly believe I was granted the privilege of making a difference for the people who have suffered so much because of our ancestor.”
Thomas gazed into her eyes for a long moment before he nodded. “You said something like that the other night, but I didn’t have a point of reference to understand it.”
“You reacted exactly like I did when I first heard it,” Carrie answered. “I would suspect no one would be thrilled to learn what we have.”
Her father looked thoughtful. “So the question becomes, how can I redeem some of what Lord Cromwell has done.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Carrie asked.
Thomas stared at her. “I’m not even going to say anything about you answering a question with a question,” he teased before he grew serious again. He peered at her closely. “Why do I get the feeling you have a suggestion for me?”
Carrie blushed. “Am I that transparent?”
“Only to me,” Thomas answered. “And perhaps Robert… And then, I imagine Rose would see right through you.” He cocked his head. “And probably Abby…”
Carrie laughed and held up her hands. “All right! I’m transparent. Is that terrible?”
“Not as long as you tell me what it is you are trying so unsuccessfully to hide,” Thomas replied.
Carrie couldn’t believe she was having the opportunity to share her idea so soon. She had thought it would take months for her father to process what she had told him. There were so many moments in her life that she had been proud of him, but perhaps never more so than she was right at that moment. “The Irish find it very difficult to get good jobs because of the image people hold of them,” she began.
“Isn’t a lot of that justified?” Thomas asked with a frown. “I remember that it was primarily the Irish police who led the riots in Memphis and New Orleans.”
“That’s true,” Carrie acknowledged, “but is it really fair to paint an entire group of people as all being the same? That’s like saying everyone who originated in England is the same.”
“I suppose it’s not fair,” Thomas agreed. “You are a wonderful judge of character, daughter, and I can tell you care deeply for the Irish in Moyamensing. I am open to having my perception changed.” He sat forward. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
Abby stepped out onto the porch then, hesitating when she saw them in intense conversation. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Carrie said, thrilled to see her. “I was just getting ready to share an idea with Father that you need to hear. It will take both of you to make the decision.”
“Oh?” Abby asked, an intrigued look in her eyes. She walked over and settled down in the chair next to them. “What is this about?”
“It’s about me coming to grips with our scandalous relative,” Thomas answered.
“And your idea is about that, Carrie?”
Carrie nodded. “You already know what motivated me to help the cholera patients in Moyamensing.” She took a deep breath as she tried to choose her words carefully. Abby had a heart bigger than anyone she knew, but she was also a very successful businesswoman. She had not become that way by making careless decisions. “I believe there is a way to help them even more.”
Abby regarded her steadily for a long moment. “You want us to build a factory down there.”
Carrie gaped at her. “How did you know?” she finally gasped.
“I didn’t,” Abby admitted. “I’ve just thought so much about what you told us back in Richmond. I thought about Biddy giving her whole life to make things better for her people. I knew that your wonderful father, once he had come to grips with his heritage, would want to do something about it.” She paused. “I’m assuming the reason poverty is so rampant in Moyamensing is because there are very few jobs.”
“That’s true,” Carrie agreed. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. “I love you!” she cried.
Abby laughed and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I love you, too. Now let’s see if there is a way to do this that makes financial sense. It won’t do any good to build a factory if we can’t make it profitable. If we can’t make money, we’ll have to shut it down, and that will hurt everyone.”
Carrie nodded earnestly. “I’ve thought a lot about it,” she said.
“Have you?” her father asked with surprise. “I didn’t realize you knew much about clothing factories.”
Carrie smiled. “I may not care to be involved in the factory, but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen carefully,” she said.
Abby laughed. “That’s my girl! Tell us what you have in mind.”
“Real estate in Moyamensing is very inexpensive. Most of the area is covered with shabby tenement houses, but while I was making my rounds helping patients, I saw a few large buildings that I believe could be transformed into a factory. They must have been left over from the days when Biddy’s husband was attempting to build industry down there. He failed back then because he didn’t have enough money to use as capital, but I think at least two of the buildings could be perfect. One of them is almost the same size as your factory in Richmond,” Carrie said. “I don’t know this for sure, but I suspect Biddy owns the buildings. I believe the price would be quite reasonable if she knew you were doing it to provide employment for her people.”
“And what do you consider reasonable?” Thomas pressed.
Carrie shrugged. “It’s not my job to know that,” she replied. “I’m trusting your business negotiating skills will enable you to acquire it at a price that would produce a profit.”
Abby laughed. “Well played, Carrie!”
Thomas smiled, but his eyes were serious. “And you really believe the Irish in Moyamensing would make capable employees?”
Carrie realized he was trying to hide his skepticism, but it came through in both his voice and his eyes. It was up to her to convince him her idea would work. “I do,” she said firmly. It was important she help both of them believe what she was saying. “My time caring for the people down there taught me so much. The government may have outlawed indentured servants and slaves, but that doesn’t mean many of the Irish are not still being forced to live in slavery conditions. They have been treated horribly in this country, just as the blacks have, but they dream of being given a chance to show what they are capable of.” She took a deep breath. “Biddy is paying for every single child in Moyamensing to go to school,” she revealed.
“Every one of them?” Thomas echoed with disbelief. “That must cost a small fortune.”
>
“Evidently she has a small fortune to spend,” Carrie replied. She could tell the moment her father’s eyes shifted from automatic resistance to cautious interest. “The children are going home and teaching their parents. Every household I was in had books, and everyone was reading at some level. I realize reading is not critical to factory work, but I believe it is a clear indicator of how committed they are to changing their lives.”
“I would have to agree with you,” Abby said, “but we wouldn’t be able to do anything before next spring if we determine it is feasible,” she cautioned.
“Of course not,” Carrie agreed. “It would be impossible to move forward in the middle of a Philadelphia winter, but the need is not going away. There will be plenty of people eager to work for you next spring or summer. Just the knowledge of the opportunity will give them the hope they need to make it through another harsh winter.”
She watched as Abby and Thomas exchanged a long look. She was thrilled when she saw nothing but thoughtful consideration. She knew they would talk it through. She also knew Abby would send a letter to her plant manager in Philadelphia. “I’m sure Biddy will be happy to show the property to your manager at any time.”
Abby chuckled. “You know you have us interested.”
Carrie smiled demurely. “I do know both of you fairly well.” She then threw all pretenses aside as she jumped up and did a little jig around the porch before settling back down in her chair. “I realize nothing has been decided, but I’m confident that once you examine the situation you will agree with me!”
Abby eyed her for a long moment. “Confident enough to travel back up to Philadelphia to tell Dr. Strikener of your plans in person, and then take me to visit Biddy and Faith?”