Her Rebel Heart (4 page)
Authors: Shannon Farrington
Edward had been called to the armory during a dreadful thunderstorm. Little did Sam know Federal troops were in the process of occupying the city. When Edward returned home that night he announced the terrible news.
"The armory has been stripped," he'd said, his face a mixture of wild emotions. "Any man who would take a gun and hide it was given one."
I was angry that he had brought the muskets to the house. I know he only hoped to protect his family with them but I didn't see it that way then. All I could think of was Federal soldiers tearing the house apart to find them. All I could think of was what they might do to her.
"Edward," Sam had said, "the Northern troops will realize what has happened. They will search the houses. They will find the guns. If you hide them here you are putting your mother and sister at risk."
"Then I'll take the muskets with me. I'll take them south, tonight."
Everyone in the room realized what he had just said, though shock stole the words of objection from their lips. Only Julia had been able to find her voice.
"No, Edward! No! You can't do such a thing!"
Her mother then also began to plead. "Son, please. Think about this. You don't want to do this."
"Yes, I do. I am going to personally see that the Federal Army is thrown out of Baltimore!"
He'd looked to Dr. Stanton. "It is our duty to protect our city, our state. Father, I know you can't fight. Your leg would never allow it, so the duty is left to those who can."
He then looked at Samuel. He'd held out a musket. "Come with me."
Tossing the invading army out of the city for the sake of Julia's safety so strongly appealed to Sam that he nearly reached for the gun, until he realized, defending States' Rights meant defending them
all.
"No," Sam had said.
Edward lowered the musket with a look of shock on his face. "What did you say?"
The thoughts fired through his head.
Protect her and freedom! Fight!
It took everything Sam had within him to stand firm.
"I said no."
A scowl crossed Edward's face. "Not even now? You won't fight, even now? You won't defend the rights of your state?"
"By defending rights are you including slavery?"
"I'm not fighting for slaves one way or the other! Look man, a Federal battery has taken aim at our front door! If we don't stand against such tyranny, who will?"
"I won't go with you."
"Then you are a coward." Edward then turned to Julia. "You should give serious consideration to the kind of man you are marrying."
Sam stared now at Julia's ringless hand in his. Hers was so delicate, so fragile compared to his gnarled fingers.
Lord, forgive me, I thought Edward was acting like
a fool. We both just wanted to protect her. I understand why he felt the way he did.
He stroked her fingers, praying for reconciliation. After what had happened on Pratt Street every fiber, every nerve in Sam's body pleaded for him to fight. It was not cowardice that kept him from doing so. It was the belief that God had chosen another path for him.
I cannot condone slavery. If only Julia could realize that.
Sam had tried to explain it to her. When Edward had thumped up the staircase, muddy boots, muskets and all, Julia had turned her eyes to him. He saw the doubt in them, the fear. He knew Edward's words carried great weight.
"Julia," he said as he moved to embrace her, "You know I would give my life for you but this isn't the way'"
"Go with him, Samuel. Please."
Her request had shocked him. "Do you really want me to leave? Do you really know what war is?"
"No, of course not! I don't want you to go! I don't want any of you to go! I don't want any of this to be happening!"
"Then think about what you are saying. We must stay together! We must convince Edward not to go south."
"He won't listen! He would rather die than dishonor his state! Samuel, please! Go with him. Only you can take care of him."
"Julia, I can't willingly support the position the South is taking. I can't condone slavery."
Pure confusion filled her eyes. "But we don't even own slaves!"
"I can't support a government which allows others to do so."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized how ridiculous they sounded. He had sealed his fate.
"You have supported one thus far!" she said, tears hardening into anger. "How many Maryland plantations on the eastern shore rely on slaves? You are using that as an excuse! I have never known you to march with the abolitionists! Edward is right! You are a coward!"
She ripped the engagement ring from her finger. "I will not marry you!"
Sitting beside her now, he continued to hold her hand as Reverend Perry prayed. Sam knew Julia had begged him to join Edward not because she wished for war but because she feared for her brother's safety'and for their own. He had no quarrel with her brother. He would give anything to see their relationship restored, their family reunited.
Lord, I believe that slavery is wrong but my own state supports it! And what of Dr. Carter and his abolitionist friends? What if they are radicals? What if they advocate the methods of John Brown?
The newspapers had been full of stories just a few months ago concerning the raid on Harper's Ferry. The town was held hostage. People were killed.
I don't know which position is right or which side to be on. All I know is that I love her. Show me Your will'¦
If Reverend Perry had meant for his prayer to be a comfort, it had just the opposite effect. When the congregation was dismissed many of the women were in tears and the men were grumbling.
Julia was pale, pensive, lost in her own private world. Sam led her from the pew, her arm through his. The air inside the church was stifling and he worried that she might faint. He steered her to the door and down the
front steps. A slight breeze wafted across the churchyard. Julia seemed glad for it. Her face pinkened.
The fact that she was allowing him to lead her was a good sign.
Perhaps today we can iron out our differences. We can commit to navigating the unknown together.
Once outside, parishioners began conversing. Reverend Perry's prayer was the subject of much of the discussion. Sam caught snatches of it as he walked Julia to the carriage.
"That man is riding the fence! Waiting to see which side prevails!"
"Praying for Lincoln! He should be praying for the souls of those on Federal Hill!"
Sam ignored their words. He waited as Dr. Stanton helped his wife inside the carriage. He studied Julia. She was still silent but her color was definitely improving with the fresh air. While they were waiting, Warren Meade, one of Dr. Stanton's patients, approached them. Julia's father had recently set his broken arm.
Sam nodded to the man and Dr. Stanton smiled when he saw him. "Warren, how's your arm today?"
"Fine," the man said gruffly.
"The pain is diminishing?"
"Yes, but I am not here to talk about that."
"Oh?" said Dr. Stanton.
"I am here to tell you that I have found a new physician."
Julia's father blinked. "Is something wrong?"
The man was obviously angry and whatever the disagreement between patient and doctor, Sam thought it best to give them privacy. He helped Julia into the carriage. His back was to the ongoing discussion. Julia had
just taken a seat when all of a sudden, Warren Meade said loud enough for everyone to hear,
"Slavery is a sin! God won't protect men who fight for it!"
Sam cringed. He knew the reference was in regard to Edward. Julia knew as well. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw stiffened.
"Don't pay any attention to that," he said to her. "He doesn't realize what he is saying." He reached for her hand.
She pulled it back. Her eyes held the same look that Edward's had the night he left for Virginia.
"Samuel," she said slowly, mouth set tight. "I must ask you not to visit my house or sit in my family pew again."
He was stunned.
Warren Meade must have stormed off after making his point, for Dr. Stanton climbed into the carriage.
"It is time to go," he said. He sounded as though there was a lot more that he wanted to say but was holding his tongue. He glanced at his wife, his daughter, then at Sam. "Son, will you be joining us for dinner?"
Sam could not get past the look of contempt in Julia's eyes. She had apparently classified him in the same category as Warren Meade. He wanted to tell her that he thought nothing of the kind about her or her father. He wanted her to know that he prayed for Edward daily, just as she.
But he could not find the words.
Dr. Stanton was waiting for an answer. Sam looked at him.
"No," he said. "Thank you, but I must tend to some things at home."
Dr. Stanton nodded. He gave his horse a click. "Then soon," he said and the carriage rolled away.
"
The carriage rocked back and forth as the wheels rolled over the cobblestone. No one said a word. They traveled in silence toward Monument Square. Federal soldiers were stationed periodically throughout the public gardens. Hands shaking, Julia closed her eyes. She did not want to see them. The sight of the men was nauseating.
She tried to think of happier times as she wobbled in her seat. She remembered how, as a child, she and Edward would ride to church. Julia would be dressed in her finest laces. Edward would purposefully tug at her skirts, trying to wrinkle them. He would knock into her as they turned corners, overexaggerating the carriage's motion.
"Edward!" she would whine.
"Julia!" he would answer back.
They would fuss. They would argue. Their mother would scold them into silent submission but they could never remain quiet or still for very long.
She then thought of her first carriage ride with Samuel, their first outing as a courting couple. Edward was chosen as the chaperone. Planted squarely in the front bench seat, he purposefully sped through the streets of Baltimore. He'd taken corners with lightning speed and had managed to find every bump in the road.
Samuel had only laughed, and slapped Edward on the shoulder. "Drive faster!" He'd slid his arm around her. Shocked, Julia looked at him.
He'd grinned innocently. "I am just making certain that you don't fall out of the carriage."
She couldn't help but laugh. Samuel had done the same.
Friends and coconspirators,
she thought.
Now they are on opposite sides.
A family must stick together. A church should stick together.
She had seen the flash in Samuel's eyes when Warren Meade made his vehement declaration. She knew it had angered him. He knew it had angered her.
But he did nothing. He didn't even turn around and face the man. He just stood there! He let the man condemn my brother, my family!
Her anger swelled.
Samuel isn't the least bit interested in defending Edward's name, or any of the rest of my family. For all I know, he agrees with Warren Meade.
She crossed her arms in front of her, mind certain.
I have made the right decision.
O
n Monday morning, Julia and her mother set about their regular routine. They prepared breakfast then moved on to the tasks of laundry and housekeeping.
The foyer floor still showed signs of mud from the night of Edward's departure, so Julia readied the linseed oil and hot water to give it a good scrubbing. While she worked, she prayed for her brother and all the other men who had traveled south.
Bless them, Lord, and keep them safe. May they all return home soon.
As heartsick as she was, Julia moved about the house at a productive pace. Everywhere were signs of Edward; a book in the parlor, his work boots at the back door. She returned all the items to their proper places. Then she aired his linens and beat his rugs. She wanted his room fresh and ready for his return.
When it was time to begin midday meal preparations, she noticed the kindling box was once again running low. She went to the lean-to and gathered up as much wood as she could carry. She was painfully aware of who had split the logs but she did her best to ignore the fact.
I now know what kind of man Samuel is. Edward's enlistment, as awful as it is, in a small way is a blessing. At least the relationship was severed while it still could be. If I had married Samuel Ward, goodness knows how my life would have turned out.
She carried the wood across the yard and then into the kitchen.
"Thank you, dear," her mother said as she laid it in the box. "You should hurry now and change."
Julia wiped the front of her dress. Wood was wood, yes, but her yellow day dress wasn't that dirty. "Why?" She asked.
"For the prayer meeting, of course."
Julia had no idea what her mother was talking about. "What prayer meeting?"
Esther gave her a quizzical expression. "Reverend Perry called for a prayer meeting today at noon. He announced it yesterday at the end of the service." She paused, the corner of her mouth revealing just the hint of a smile. "Weren't you listening?"
Julia could tell by the look on her mother's face that she did not need to answer that question. Her embarrassment for not giving her full attention to the Lord was only surpassed by the humiliation that her mother knew exactly why she hadn't been listening.
Samuel had been distracting her.
All that she could fully remember of the worship service was that Reverend Perry's prayers were not well received.
"The congregation is so divided," Julia said. "After yesterday it is a wonder that he would even call such a meeting."
"That is exactly why he is doing so. Hurry now. Change your dress. Your father will be home shortly."
Julia went upstairs to make herself ready. She wondered what this meeting today would involve. One thing she was certain of, she would not be distracted by Samuel Ward this time.
By scheduling the event during the noon hour the Reverend surely hoped to draw folks on their lunch break. Samuel would never be able to make it from the seminary in Rolland Park all the way to the church on Charles Street and back in one hour.
I will be free to pray for my brother's safety and for the concerns of my city without his disapproving eye.
Her father returned from his morning rounds and the family started off. Julia rode mostly in silence, eyes drifting from one house to the next. There were no visible markers but she knew many of these homes had a son or brother who had chosen to fight.
Bless them, Lord. Bring them home soon.
When the carriage rolled past one of the local taverns, several Federal soldiers were standing outside. Julia made the mistake of looking at them. One man had the audacity to wink at her. Clutching her Bible tightly, she focused her eyes on her father's stovepipe hat.
Her hands were trembling. All she could think of was that day at the train station, when Federal gunfire nearly led to her being trampled and sent eleven of her fellow citizens off into eternity.
The bell chimed the hour as Dr. Stanton brought their carriage to rest in front of the church.
"Come now," he said as he helped Julia and her mother to the street. "We mustn't be late."
As eager as she was to be safely inside, Julia was not ready to endure divided seating arrangements and political barricades. When she stepped into the sanctuary, however, only Reverend Perry was present.
"Thomas!" the man said, immediately coming up the aisle to greet her father. "And ladies'¦how good of you to come."
"I had several visits to make this morning," Dr. Stanton said. "I feared we would be the last to arrive."
"On the contrary," Reverend Perry said. "You are the first."
Julia glanced around. Though grateful there were no icy glares or judgmental remarks, her heart still sank.
Will we be the only ones? Isn't there anyone else who will pray for this city? For our brave men?
She brushed away the discouraging thoughts and lifted her chin with determination.
I will do so. I will pray for Edward and for Baltimore.
If Reverend Perry was disheartened by the lack of attendance, he did not reveal it. He quickly led Julia's family to the front pew and started the service.
"Let's begin with a hymn."
Without the benefit of pipe organ or additional singers, the four of them joined in singing, "How Firm a Foundation."
The meager voices barely filled the space between the walls but Julia reminded herself that where two or three were gathered, God himself was in attendance.
They finished the hymn and sat down.
Reverend Perry then prayed. He did exactly as he had done before, praying for the safety of the city and for the protection of all soldiers involved in the war. When he fell silent, Julia's father carried on. With heartfelt sincerity he prayed for the congregation. He asked that they would be able to put their political differences aside in order to present the gospel of Christ.
Though he did not mention the man by name, Julia wondered if he was not thinking of Warren Meade. Her
nerves bristled as she remembered his words. She stiffened even further when she thought of Samuel's clear unwillingness to defend her brother's good name.
Edward seeks to protect us from danger, from the tyranny of those Federal soldiers. Samuel would simply let them have their way.
Julia did not lift her voice in public but she did pray silently for Edward's swift return. She then remembered the citizens who had been injured on Pratt Street.
And for them and their families, Lord'¦please comfort them. Please don't let such a thing happen again!
She heard her mother's voice. Somewhere near the end of the prayer, the back door opened. Footsteps quietly, rhythmically came down the aisle. They stopped midway. A pew then creaked.
Someone else has joined us! Oh thank You, Lord!
Her faith stirred and hope soared until she recognized the petitioner's voice.
"Lord, Almighty, thank You for hearing our prayers'¦"
Samuel!
She clenched the lace handkerchief in her lap.
How dare he come!
Any spiritual comfort she had previously felt evaporated. All she could think of was the man sitting just a few rows back; the one who had promised to love and protect her, yet, hadn't the courage to do so.
He is probably here to wish for Edward's destruction, to condemn all those who support States' Rights!
She was so busy imagining what he was praying for that she failed to hear what he was actually saying.
"
"My sins, Lord'¦ Forgive me for my sins."
Though Sam had intended on coming to this meeting to pray for Edward, he could not get past the need
to confess his own faults to God. For too long he had simply gone about his life with his plans for the future, Julia, his teaching position, an honest but comfortable life here in Baltimore.
He had never once considered God may have other things in mind.
Frederick Douglass's experiences flooded his thoughts.
The man in his autobiography had shown owners whipping and cursing their slaves while simultaneously quoting Scripture to them. He also told of plantation owners who bowed their heads each night at supper to thank God for their food only to then turn around and starve the very hands that had farmed it.
The former slave explained that he loved the Christianity that Christ had preached, the message of love, peace and purity. Yet, in America, Christ's message had become polluted. Those who called themselves followers yet whipped women and stole babies from their mothers' arms were corrupt and hypocritical.
Where am I in all of this?
Sam wondered.
What form of Christianity do I cling to?
Sam had never owned another human being. He had never beaten or cursed any man. He attended church each week, read his Bible daily. He prayed faithfully yet he couldn't help but sense there was more to it.
Does Jesus expect more from His followers? Does His sacrificial love demand it?
Sam had always sought to live a life of peace, to show others the love of Christ.
"¦As ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me'¦
The Savior's words pricked his heart.
One of the least of these'¦
who were the very least? Who did society, the law and government itself claim as the least?
Sam knew full well the answer to his own question.
Simply refusing to join those who supported slavery, or at the very least allowed it, was no longer enough. He knew that now. He would attend Dr. Carter's meeting. He did not know what else may be involved but he sensed the Lord was urging him to find out.
"I will do Your will, Lord."
And following God's will, Sam realized, meant placing Julia in His hands. Sam could not continue to spend his strength worrying and planning how to win her back.
He had to focus on being obedient. He had to trust.
"
What was happening, Julia could not fully explain. The Reverend and even her own father were now in tears. A shiver ran through her for she could sense the Almighty's presence in the place.
Oh, Lord, thank You for hearing our prayers. Thank You for what You will do here in this city.
After a few moments, eyes opened, heads raised. Reverend Perry concluded the meeting by extending an invitation.
"I ask you to join me tomorrow and each day thereafter at noon."
Her father quickly said they would. When the Reverend looked to Samuel, Julia bristled.
He explained it was impossible to reach the church at noon but, "I will gladly give what time I can."
Wonderful,
Julia thought sarcastically.
I suppose I will have to get used to him.
When the service was over her mother and father continued to speak with Reverend Perry. Julia waited a step away, discreetly eyeing Samuel from the safety of her lace trimmed bonnet.
He approached her slowly.
"I wanted to offer my apologies," he said before she could speak first.
She was taken aback. "For?"
"For pressing you. For not honoring your wishes."
His brown eyes were fixed on hers. Julia couldn't help but think of the love that had filled them the night he'd asked for her hand, of the ardor with which he had kissed her.
Heat flooded her face. Her skin was tingling and her mind churning.
"It was wrong of me to visit the house and to sit in your family pew," he said. "It will not happen again."
She opened her fan, hoping her voice was smooth and calm. "Thank you, Samuel."
"You are welcome. Good day, Julia."
He turned and walked up the aisle, through the doors and out into the warm May sunshine.
After he had gone, her parents were ready to depart as well. Julia followed them to the carriage. A chill had now settled over her.
"Did you bring your sewing basket, dear?" her mother asked. "We can drop by Sally's on the way home."
"Oh," Julia said absentmindedly. "No. I did not. I completely forgot about the sewing circle."
She was still mulling over what Samuel had said. Part of her felt relieved, the other struggled with the finality of it all. Why did she suddenly feel so guilty?
This is what I wanted. I will not marry a man like him.
"Well, then," she heard her mother say. "We will just drive home. You can walk back to Sally's after you gather your things."
"Perhaps I will stay home this week," Julia said.
"Why is that?"
"I don't feel much like visiting."
Every week, she and her neighborhood friends met together for conversation and needlework. The real reason she did not wish to attend today was that the girls were scheduled to begin the lace for her wedding gown. The white dress had already been sewn. All that was needed to complete it was the finishing trim. Julia had not yet told any of them about the broken engagement.
She dreaded doing so.
Some of them, like her closest friend Sally Hastings, would understand. Her brother Stephen had left for Virginia the same time Edward did. Sally had even at one time had eyes for Edward. The woman could sympathize with Julia's pain.
Prissy, opinionated, Rebekah Van der Geld would not. Rebekah had recently expressed disdain for the growing secessionist movement.
"It is treason," she'd said flatly, "and anyone who fights for the Confederacy deserves to be hanged."
Julia sighed. She had once considered Rebekah a friend but did not any longer. She wondered how the girl continued to come to their group when she clearly held such an opposing view.
Why must politics invade every aspect of life? Why can't we just go on living?
Her mother spoke. "I talked with Sally briefly yesterday at church. She told me she was hoping you would come today. I think she misses Stephen terribly."
