by Lyn Cote
He closed his eyes and asked God for strength, courage. “Honor,” he said slowly, hoping the word had been audible, understandable. “I’m sorry.”
Her expression showed her shock. She signed, “Thee can speak like Caleb. Why doesn’t thee speak to me?”
“My voice sounds odd,” he said, hanging his head. Speaking words exhausted him as always.
She nodded slowly, putting a hand on his arm. “It sounds wonderful to me,” she signed.
“No matter what you say, it sounds strange.” Samuel lapsed into sign. “That’s why I don’t speak. I don’t know why, but a person has to be able to hear his voice to sound like himself.” Rampant emotion roiled through him with every word he conveyed. He felt each nick and cut to his knuckles. He was clumsy and inadequate. But his wife had resisted her cousin’s husband—even though he was handsome and whole.
Honor waited, her expression soft.
“I’m sorry about my jealousy,” he went on. He’d plainly seen her revulsion as Alec had pressed his attentions on her. In that moment, all traces of his jealousy had vanished, burned up. His only regret was that it had taken so long—Honor had proved her faithfulness time and again. Samuel leaned back into the chair, spent. “I’m sorry you had to suffer … seeing him, having to witness a fight.”
Honor shuddered. “I finally saw Alec as he really was. I realize now that both Darah and I were too young, too innocent to understand his true nature, what kind of man he actually was.”
A profound gratitude filled Honor. She rested her palm on Samuel’s cheek. “I felt betrayed by Darah, but I see now God was protecting me. He would have protected my cousin, too, but she did what she knew she shouldn’t. Yet in the end, he gave her a way out.” She bowed her head, letting all the old hurt drain out only to be replaced with relief. The Lord saved me.
Samuel exulted in her gentle touch. “I’m sorry,” he signed.
Being done once and for all with the past, she even felt lighter. God had brought her a good and kind man to be her husband, and the Lord had made so many other provisions through their marriage as well. Their union had eased Miriam’s passing for Samuel, provided care for Eli and Caleb, brought security for herself and Royale, and connected Samuel with the hearing world and brought about his dream of his own glassworks.
She stroked his face and leaned forward, placing another kiss on his mouth. She remembered not his jealousy but his kindness to the runaways they hid, his exceptional benevolence to Darah and her maid. “I am glad thee is my husband.”
“I am grateful you are my wife,” he signed. Then he did something he had wanted to do but had not allowed himself. The jealousy and resentment had kept him from touching her so intimately, touching what connected them so deeply.
Samuel laid his hand upon his wife’s abdomen, fully aware, perhaps for the first time, of the new life within. The wonder of it brought his face up to hers. She too looked amazed. She laid her hand on top of his and kissed him again, then rested her forehead against his.
Suddenly the courage he needed rose in him. “I love you, Honor,” he said aloud. “I love you.”
She moved her head so their eyes met. Her gaze delved deeply into him as if reading his very soul. “I love thee.” She spoke the words so plainly it was as if he could hear them. She said the words again in sign.
Tears rose in his eyes, joy overflowing. “I love you, Honor,” he repeated.
Once again her lips dipped to his. Her kiss was slow and thorough and thrilled him to his marrow. Then she rose and latched the door. When she turned, he saw a light in her eyes he’d never witnessed before.
He stood and opened his arms.
She took her time reaching him, all the while smiling at him, promising him her love. Then she was in his arms, so soft, so yielding, a miracle.
He savored what he hoped would be the first of many moments like this—he would remember it all his life. Thank God. Thank God.
HONOR LAID HER TINY napping daughter into the cradle by the crackling fire, warming them both against the December chill. She had just finished her two weeks of lying-in and was so happy to be free of the bed. Now she had a letter to write. Micah would be driving into Cincinnati tomorrow and could mail it for her.
Over the past few months, her life with Samuel had changed. A week after Alec had come here, his badly beaten body had been found dead near the Cincinnati wharf. The night watch had found Alec’s ornate calling card on the body, and the sheriff had traced him back to the inn where he’d been staying. The innkeeper had recalled that the dead man had asked about the way to the deaf glassblower in Sharpesburg.
So the sheriff had sent a deputy to them. Samuel had identified the body and paid to have Alec buried in Cincinnati. Samuel’s theory was that Alec went back to the city boiling for a fight and started one with someone he shouldn’t have. Honor had written Darah and enclosed a clipping from the newspaper about Alec’s murder. Unfortunately, through correspondence with the lawyer Bradenton, Honor had been informed that Alec had left his whole estate, including High Oaks, to his nearest cousin. So Darah was disinherited but free. And prospering in Canada.
Honor now had a happier letter to write. She brought out her box of stationery, the wax and seal, a writing pen, and ink. She trimmed the quill and began writing.
December 15, 1820
Dearest Cousin,
I am happy to announce the birth of Blessing Miriam Cathwell two weeks ago on November thirtieth. She is plump and healthy, and my neighbor Charity agrees she is a most content and beautiful little girl.
I was glad to receive thy letter. I think thy decision to remain in Canada is wise. Though I grieve over the plight of our people, we are helpless except to pray for their safety and future freedom. Let the Martin land go to Alec’s cousin. I agree thee is better off to make a new life far from unhappy memories. Both Samuel and I were encouraged to hear that thy lace business is thriving. And that thy maid had found a good husband.
Samuel and I will visit whenever he has a delivery to make north of Dayton. He is learning how to drive the wagon and is speaking commands to the horses. He still speaks very little with his voice otherwise, but I see this as a good sign. So we are doing well, and I hope to see thee in the spring.
As always, thy loving cousin,
Honor Cathwell
She folded and sealed the letter with hot wax, marveling at how God had brought her, Royale, and even Darah through the past year. Honor had not been able to free her people, but she was helping others to freedom. And the letters they had written in Deborah’s parlor perhaps had some influence. The law penalizing anyone who kidnapped a free person of color in Ohio and tried to sell them back into slavery had come up for a vote in the state assembly and had passed. This had excited the members of the Female AntiSlavery Society and proved that women could do something to oppose slavery. It was a start, at least.
Samuel entered, shutting the door against the cold behind him. He took off his hat and mittens and warmed himself by the fire before he bent over the cradle. He couldn’t look at his little daughter enough.
His wife moved to stand beside him.
He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “She is beautiful. You are beautiful.”
The baby began to fuss. Honor lifted their tiny daughter from her cradle and set her to nurse. He loved watching her hold the little one that belonged to both of them, linking them forever.
They had come through so much. And now they had little Blessing. He had chosen this name for their daughter, hoping that Honor would realize it was a tribute to their love and how he felt about their marriage.
He tickled the baby’s chin, and the child sent him an angry look for interrupting her nursing. He watched a smile crinkle Honor’s face as she laughed at him. Then he leaned closer and savored a kiss. He had more than he ever thought possible: a home, a thriving business, and a loving wife and family.
Eli and Caleb burst inside, rosy from the cold, playfully punching each
other.
Honor turned to scold them, but Samuel couldn’t help himself. He let the laughter rumble up from deep inside him. Life was good. God was near.
HISTORICAL NOTE
TO THOSE WHO have read my previous historical series, it will come as no surprise that when considering a new series, I looked for an area where great social and political upheaval and conflict had taken place. In my earlier Texas: Star of Destiny series, I chose Texas, which changed from Spanish colony to Mexican territory to the Republic of Texas and finally to the state of Texas, all between the years of 1820 and 1847. The period also included the Texas Revolution (“Remember the Alamo!”) and the Mexican-American War.
That done, I next turned my attention, of course, to Ohio. Ohio?
Yes, during the same years, Ohio simmered and at times boiled as a hotbed of conflict and activism over the issue of abolition.
While in Texas, the winds of change and social upheaval were acted out in open conflicts, in Ohio, the revolution took place behind doors and within secret rooms, only rarely breaking forth into race riots. The Underground Railroad started spontaneously, many say, with John Rankin, a Presbyterian minister who moved to Ripley, Ohio, in 1822. When Harriet Beecher Stowe was asked after the Civil War, “Who abolished slavery?” she answered, “Reverend John Rankin and his sons did.”
But actually, the Underground Railroad was not any one man or woman’s idea. It was a spontaneous, uncoordinated response to the plight of runaway slaves. It began with free blacks in Ohio, such as Judah and Royale. There were several black settlements in Ohio; some groups of them were made up of slaves freed and resettled by their former owners. These settlements consciously saw themselves as havens for runaways. John Parker, Henry Bibb, Charles Langston (the inspiration for Brother Ezekiel and Judah’s surname), and many more free blacks in Ohio sheltered and then moved escaped slaves toward Canada.
However, because of the Black Laws of Ohio (1807), people of color had no legal status and could not testify in court or vote. White abolitionists came forward to stand up for and assist their black cohorts in these situations, often providing funds. Keith Griffler states in his landmark study, Front Line of Freedom: African Americans and the Forging of the Underground Railroad in the Ohio Valley (Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2004, 60):
The movement that came to be called the Underground Railroad would never have gotten off the ground without the dedicated group of whites who hailed from the South, providing the African Americans engaged in the life-and-death struggle with American slavery indispensable allies in their frontline struggle. If the South had bequeathed to the Ohio Valley much of its proslavery animus, it also ironically supplied it with some of its most ardent and militant antislavery white activists—willing to risk their reputations, their fortunes, their freedom, and even their lives. It might not be too much to say that the Underground Railroad in the region would have taken much longer to initiate without the zeal they brought to the cause they espoused. Their fervor was equal to that … which the love of slavery inspired in leaders of the South. Having witnessed—and learned to hate—slavery at close quarters, they brought not only a passion but also the willingness and desire to work closely with the African American communities whose existence on the northern bank of the Ohio defied both Northern and Southern public opinion.
Honor is not a heroine who truly lived in history, but many with her passion took an active part in the antislavery movement. The poem I let Honor take credit for—“What Is a Slave, Mother?”—really belongs to Elizabeth Margaret Chandler, who wrote many antislavery poems and who started a Female AntiSlavery Society in Michigan about a decade after the fictional one in Deborah Coxswain’s parlor. The full poem can easily be found online. Chandler participated in national discussions and debates through her articles and poems about abolitionism. She also edited Benjamin Lundy’s abolitionist journal, The Genius of Universal Emancipation (which actually began in 1821).
Also, the inequity of property laws pertaining to widows at this time might have been a surprise to some readers. This was, of course, demonstrated by the fact that Alec could leave his whole estate—even the part that Darah brought into the marriage—to whomever he wished.
Usually a third of the estate was saved for the widow’s portion or dower (even in the United States). However, this had to be specified either in the prenuptial marriage agreement or in the husband’s will. I think Alec’s decision not to provide for Darah in his will, along with her lack of a male relative to protect her interests in a prenuptial marriage settlement, fits both Alec’s character (or lack thereof) and the story.
The next story in this series will be about Blessing Cathwell, Honor and Samuel’s daughter. You’ll see how the conflict over abolition and the advent of the women’s rights movement will affect her life. What challenges will she face? And what man will find her too fascinating to ignore?
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
What if doing what is right cost you everything—fortune, friends, and family? This is the concept that is central to the novel Honor. At the beginning of the story, Honor tries to do what is right, but she has no way of foreseeing the repercussions to come. Have you ever experienced or seen a decision like this in your own life or in the life of someone close to you? What was the outcome?
Some characters in the novel misunderstand, avoid, or scorn Samuel because of his deafness. How is today’s society different from Samuel’s in its treatment of people with disabilities? In what ways is it the same?
Soon after marrying Honor, Samuel becomes irrationally jealous whenever she interacts with other men. Why does he feel this way? How does his character develop throughout the story, and what causes this development? If you could give Samuel one piece of advice, what would it be?
Were you surprised at how few choices women could make to support themselves in 1819? Why do you think this was true?
Why does Honor chose to marry Samuel? Did she make the right decision? What would you have done in her place?
Throughout the novel, Honor struggles to control her angry impulses. What does she do to contain her anger? Read James 1:19-21. What steps can we take to strive for the righteousness of God without giving in to angry actions?
Looking back, it is easy to think that if we had lived in Honor’s time period, we would have helped runaway slaves and worked for abolition. Abolition became popular in the decade before the Civil War broke out, but in the 1820s, abolitionists were considered odd and subversive to society. Would you break a federal law to seek justice for others? What would be the hardest part of doing so?
Though many Quakers opposed slavery, most meetings insisted that members of color sit in a separate section of the meetinghouse. Why did they do this? Can you think of a parallel in today’s church?
The Quakers are a distinctive sect of Christians. What did you learn about them from this novel? What is most appealing to you about the Quaker lifestyle? What would be most difficult?
Honor works passionately to bring light into the lives of people marginalized and mistreated by her society. What can you do personally to add light to this world rather than darkness?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LYN COTE, known for her “Strong Women, Brave Stories,” is the award-winning, critically acclaimed author of more than thirty-five novels. Her books have been RITA Award finalists and Holt Medallion and Carol Award winners. Lyn received her bachelor’s degree in education and her master’s degree in American history from Western Illinois University. She and her husband have two grown children and live on a small but beautiful lake in northern Wisconsin. Visit her online at www.LynCote.com.
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