by Ginny Dye
Biddy looked at Abby. “The child is gaining wisdom. I believe there is hope for her yet.”
“There just might be,” Abby responded playfully.
Carrie opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut and looked at Faith meaningfully.
Faith smiled and continued. “Back to the slave ship. It turns out that when they arrived in New Spain, they were short about fifty slaves. History tells us that English privateers attacked and plundered the boats. The boat’s captain, John Colyn Jope, had a letter of marque that gave him permission from the Dutch government to attack and plunder Spanish ships.”
Carrie’s eyes widened as she envisioned the battle at sea and the terror the slaves must have felt as they were helplessly shackled in the hold. Her heart felt heavy as she was reminded of how many humans were seen as nothing more than property. She had so many questions, but she was determined to keep her promise to just listen.
“One of the English ships was called the White Lion. They carried about twenty of the slaves they had stolen. They immediately set sail for Virginia, landing at Point Comfort. We know it now as Fort Monroe. The crew aboard the White Lion was low on supplies, so they sold the slaves for enough food to continue their journey.” Faith paused, remembering. “One of the men sold as a servant was called Antonio. He was my great-great-great-grandfather.”
Carrie gaped at her but remembered to stay silent.
“Antonio was sent to work for a very devout Puritan named Edward Bennett, who was also a very wealthy ship owner,” Faith continued. “Antonio worked the tobacco fields, but in February of 1622 he and fifty other servants were sent to clear the woods for a plantation that was to be called Bennett’s Welcome. One month later, before a palisade could be built, the Powhatan Confederacy launched what we now know as the Good Friday massacre. Antonio was one of only twelve who survived the attack by the Opechancanough Indians. Twelve years later he was given his freedom. He married a woman named Mary, and they began calling themselves Anthony and Mary Johnson. They moved to Northampton County on the Eastern Shore, where they raised four children and accumulated two hundred fifty acres of land. By the time their boys were grown, and had bought land of their own, they had over a thousand acres.”
So far, Carrie had heard nothing that should give Faith anything but intense pride in her heritage. Anthony Johnson had survived against incredible odds and had managed to create a life of freedom for himself and his family. She leaned forward, certain there was more to the story.
Faith rewarded her with a warm smile before she went on. “My grandfather Anthony became successful enough to start buying servants of his own,” she said sadly. “He bought several slaves—both black and white.”
Carrie was shocked, but she remembered that Sam had told her if he had the opportunity, he would probably own slaves himself. Sam had insisted owning slaves had nothing to do with color. It was about power.
Faith nodded. “Grandfather Anthony completely adopted the ways of Virginia planters. Perhaps the only thing that made him stand out was that his holdings were eventually given the name Angola—a tribute to his true heritage. Anyway, the story doesn’t end there. Up to that point, in spite of the reality of the situation, it was at least stated that all indentured servants would have the opportunity for freedom at some point in their lives. My grandfather helped change that.”
Carrie and Abby caught their breath at the same time.
“About thirty years after Grandfather Anthony was brought to America as a slave, he got into a dispute with one of his servants. The servant was a fellow African named John Castor who was demanding his freedom after many years of labor. He claimed his time of servitude had run out years before. I imagine it had. John ran away and took refuge with a sympathetic neighboring plantation owner who was white. Grandfather Anthony went to court to get his property back. I’ve learned the court case went on for almost two years.” Faith paused again, her eyes heavy with regret.
Carrie struggled to envision the bewildering sight of a white planter fighting a black planter to save a black servant from perpetual slavery. She desperately wanted this story to end well, but she was already certain she was going to be disappointed.
“My grandfather resolved it by persuading the courts to enslave John Castor for life. It was one of the first cases of lifetime slavery being imposed in America,” Faith revealed in a soft voice. “And certainly the first time the sentence of lifetime slavery was imposed on a black man by another black man. My grandfather helped change the face of slavery for over two hundred years.”
Carrie stared at Faith, stunned into silence. “No wonder you understand how I feel about Lord Oliver Cromwell,” she finally said.
Faith laughed. “Yes. I am just as appalled by my ancestry as you are.”
“I can only imagine how you feel,” Abby murmured. “Were your people always free?”
“Yes,” Faith answered. “Things began to change in America even before the court case. Massachusetts had already legalized slavery. The other colonies followed rather quickly. The new laws mandated that people like Grandfather Anthony and his children would remain free, but they were no longer treated the same. They could still buy black servants, but they could no longer buy white servants because they were considered too low-class to buy whites. Grandfather Anthony’s children lived in a different America, but it continued to change rapidly. For a long time, there were more white slaves than black. The numbers began to even out by the end of the 1600s, until eventually all the slaves were black.”
“Because of money?” Carrie asked, knowing the answer already.
“What else?” Faith asked ruefully. “Too many of the decisions that shape any society are mandated by finances. The shift from the supposed time-limited servitude of whites to the lifetime slavery of Africans was prompted by economics as much as racism. The Caribbean plantations showed that larger profits could be made from an openly enslaved workforce. American planters took notice. They decided black slavery was a much better long-term investment, especially when the death rates continued to fall. For most of the 1600s, at least half of the workforce died within five years because of the brutal conditions. It just wasn’t good business to purchase men for a life term at twice the price of a time-limited white servant. When the blacks began to live longer, and when Virginia passed the first law that the children of slaves were also slaves for life, it began to make financial sense.”
Another long silence fell on the room. Faith served more tea while she allowed everyone time to process what they had heard.
“None of it makes any sense,” Carrie muttered. “How can people live with themselves?”
“Slavery never makes sense,” Abby said, “but societies throughout all of written time have done it. People with power find it remarkably easy to bury any inherent moral objection to slavery when it means they can use it to line their pockets.”
“And now slavery has been abolished in America,” Biddy reminded them. “It took time, but when enough good people find the courage to raise their voice time and time again about a wrong, it can be changed.”
Carrie was glad for the reminder. “You’re right.” She cocked her head. “Faith, were you involved in the Abolition Movement?”
Faith smiled. “My mama and daddy took me to a revival meeting led by Reverend Charles Finney when I was a teenager back in 1825. I had heard them talking about how bad slavery was, but it didn’t impact me, so I didn’t think about it very much. I was astounded when I found close to one thousand people crowded into a big white tent to hear Reverend Finney preach. The things he said that night changed me and my family forever. Reverend Finney believed your faith should be lived out in your daily life. He helped launch the Abolitionist Movement and the Women’s Rights Movement.” She smiled as she remembered. “Reverend Finney was a teacher at Oberlin College where I went to school. I made sure to take every class he taught.”
Carrie gasped. “You went to college?” She so wanted Rose to meet
this remarkable woman.
“Yes,” Faith assured her. “Oberlin was the first college to accept both genders and all races. My parents made many sacrifices to make sure I could attend. It was while I was there that I learned the truth about my heritage. I went to school to become a teacher, but I was far too busy after I finished school to teach. My time there did nothing but fire my commitment to bring about change.”
Abby nodded. “So how did you and Biddy meet?”
Faith smiled again, exchanging a long look with her old friend. “Biddy provided the answer I needed for a problem.”
Biddy chuckled. “Faith was one of the first people in Philadelphia to provide assistance to blacks escaping through the Underground Railroad. She started helping people back around 1840.”
“More than twenty-five years ago?” Abby asked with deep admiration.
“That’s why you were too busy to teach,” Carrie added. “That’s remarkable!”
Faith shrugged. “It was an honor to do what I could.”
Biddy snorted. “Do what you could?” She looked at Carrie and Abby. “Faith is too modest to reveal that she helped more than one thousand slaves escape.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “One thousand…?”
Faith shrugged. “I found a way to help.”
“And it’s how you met Biddy?” Carrie murmured, stunned by what she was learning. She couldn’t believe she might have missed knowing exactly how extraordinary Faith was if she hadn’t returned and asked to hear her story.
“Yes. It was becoming quite a challenge to find enough houses to hide all the escaping slaves on their way north. The logistics were becoming something of a nightmare. I went looking for an unused building large enough to hide them until they were ready to head on.” She glanced at Biddy.
“Faith found one of my buildings,” Biddy continued. “When she came to talk to me—my husband was already dead—we became instant friends.”
“I moved in just a few weeks later,” Faith revealed. “We’ve been together ever since.”
“Faith had the same passion to help her people as I did to help the Irish,” Biddy said. “That huge empty building wasn’t doing anything but sitting there. I was thrilled for it to be put to good use. They never caught even one slave who stayed there. Not even after the Fugitive Slave Act passed in 1850.” She chuckled with satisfaction. “Folks never thought about coming down here to Moyamensing to look for runaway slaves.”
Carrie sat in silent amazement. For the first time, she had a clear picture of just how extraordinary these two women were. To sit in the same room with Biddy, Faith and Abby reminded her of how much impact a woman could have if she was determined to do so. “What a story…” she finally said.
Faith smiled. “Every person is a story, Carrie. You just have to care enough to ask questions and hear it. You are surrounded every day by extraordinary people. Most of us miss that fact entirely.”
“What’s happening with the building now?” Abby asked after another long silence.
Biddy shrugged. “It’s sitting there. It was used almost to the end of the war, though certainly there were far fewer runaway slaves once the war started. It wasn’t too far into the war before they all knew they could just head for a contraband camp. That was much easier than long trips north.”
“Where is it?” Abby asked.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“The building is down on Carlton Avenue,” Biddy replied, her eyes revealing she knew Abby was asking more than a casual question.
“At the intersection of Jamison Street?” Abby asked, her voice sparkling with excitement.
Biddy cocked her head. “Now why would you be knowing that, Abby Cromwell? What’s going on inside that head of yours? Why do I get the feeling we’re about to get to what you didn’t want to talk about earlier?”
Abby smiled. “You’ve always been a smart woman, Biddy.”
“What in the world are you two talking about?” Faith demanded. She cast a suspicious look at Carrie. “If you’re not popping in with questions, it’s only because you already know the answer.”
Carrie laughed. “Perhaps some of the answer, though I will admit I think I’ve been left out of something.” She couldn’t help the twinge of hurt she felt, but she pushed it aside.
Abby reached out and touched her leg. “I just got the information I needed this morning right before Michael picked us up, Carrie. I didn’t want to talk about it in front of anyone else because I didn’t want to risk any of this getting out before I talked to Biddy.”
“Well, I’m sitting here,” Biddy said bluntly, “and I’m getting just as impatient as Carrie gets. Talk!”
Abby grinned. “I know about your building because I had one of my factory managers go down to check it out yesterday.” She leaned forward. “Thomas and I would like to start a clothing factory in that building. Now that I know the history of the building, I can’t think of a more perfect place.”
Biddy gazed at her. Her face was calm, but her eyes were avidly curious. “And why would you be wanting to start a factory there? Surely there are better locations.”
“Probably,” Abby agreed. “But it seems the best location for the people of Moyamensing to get to work easily.”
Carrie watched Biddy and Faith as they both froze. Abby’s words hung in the air for several long moments.
“What are you saying?” Biddy finally asked. Her expression was both cautious and hopeful.
“Carrie is not the only one who had to come to grips with her heritage,” Abby answered. “Thomas was also horrified by what he discovered. He understood Carrie had dealt with the discovery by making a commitment to help the people down here. He wanted to do the same thing, but he wasn’t sure what to do.” She smiled proudly at Carrie. “My wonderful daughter suggested we start a clothing factory down here to employ as many people as we can.” She held up a hand before either woman could say anything. “We’ll be able to start out with about seventy-five employees, but within a year, I believe we could expand it to several hundred. Both men and women will have an opportunity for work.” She paused. “If we are successful in proving the people here are good workers, I believe other factory owners will follow. I saw at least three other buildings that could be converted for industry.” She stopped and waited for their reaction.
Biddy and Faith stared at each other again, and then Faith leapt up from her chair laughing, and did a little jig around the parlor.
Biddy joined her in the laughter. “I’d get up and dance with her, but I’m afraid I’d collapse.” She reached over and grabbed Abby and Carrie’s hands. “Carrie, thank you from the bottom of my heart. The people of Moyamensing will be forever in your debt.”
Carrie shook her head. “It’s not enough to make up for what has been done, but at least it’s something.”
“It’s more than something,” Biddy said. “Changing the financial situation for a family will echo down through countless generations to come.” She squeezed Abby’s hand tightly. “I know you realize what this means,” she said softly. “It will change everything down here.”
Abby nodded. “I know. I wanted to make sure the building could be made profitable before I made the offer. Of course,” she added, “it will depend some upon the asking price for the building.”
Biddy threw back her head with a laugh. “And so the negotiating begins,” she chortled before she became serious again, her eyes fired with certainty. “I don’t need the money. The title will be transferred to you and your husband this week. That building is sitting there empty. It served a vitally important role for the last twenty-five years, and it will serve just as important a role now. Nothing could make me happier.”
Abby grinned. “It’s such a pleasure doing business with you, Biddy.”
The afternoon wore away as they made plans..
Biddy finally turned to Carrie. “Enough factory talk. I believe you are starting school tomorrow?”
Carrie shook her head. “No.”
Biddy cocked her head at the same time Faith did. “Tell me,” she ordered.
“I’m going back to the plantation,” Carrie said. She explained the situation as best as she could while Biddy and Faith listened. For the first time they heard about the split with their other three housemates, and Janie’s decision to attend the Homeopathic College, as well. She saw both sadness and acceptance creep into Biddy’s eyes as she told her story. Carrie’s stomach clenched as she talked. Biddy had become like a grandmother to her. She couldn’t bear the thought she might not see her again. But Biddy was healthy, and certainly she wouldn’t allow herself to die before the factory was up and running. She would want to see the results of so many in Moyamensing having a steady income.
When Carrie finished there was a long silence.
“I know you’re doing what you believe is the right thing,” Biddy finally murmured, “but I won’t pretend it doesn’t make me sad.”
“And me,” Faith said. “We’ll miss you.” She peered at Carrie. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
Carrie was grateful to be confident in her decision, but no matter what she did, someone was going to be sad. Her heart ached as she saw the disappointment in her friend’s eyes, but the ache was tempered by the memory of the unrestrained joy on Robert’s and Rose’s faces when she had told them. “I’m sure,” she said firmly.
“When do you figure you’ll be coming back to school?” Biddy pressed.
Carrie shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know I’m making the right choice, but I don’t have any idea when the next thing is supposed to happen. I am one hundred percent sure I will be a doctor, so I know I’ll return, but I don’t know when.”
“You’ll write?” Biddy asked.
“Every week,” Carrie promised. “You’ll take care of yourself?”
Biddy blinked. “I’ll be here when you get back,” she replied.
