The argument for burning the bridges was a matter of safety. "We have seen what the Massachusetts troops have done," voices cried. "If we don't protect this city it will be on our heads!"
But the air was just as hot with talk of secession. "They trample our rights! Let us follow Virginia and South Carolina!"
Sam had begun to seriously wonder if the men swarming around him had Baltimore's best interest at heart, or if they were simply championing their own banner. He was no military strategist but he had enough sense to know that secession would not fare well for Maryland. The Union would not suffer its capital in Confederate hands. A bloodbath would ensue.
The planning had continued. The longer he'd stood there, the more certain he'd become that burning the railroad bridges would be one step closer to secession, one step closer to the Federal Government's retaliation.
He tugged at Edward's sleeve. "This is wrong."
Edward nodded. "Yes. Yes," he'd said with enthusiasm, hearing nothing but the cheering crowd.
Sam caught him by the shoulder. Edward turned, a questioning look on his face.
"This is a mistake," Sam had said. "We should let the soldiers pass through."
Edward's eyes widened. "Pass through?"
"Yes, to Washington. Let them go on their way."
A hush had fallen over the tumultuous crowd. Those around him fixed their attention solely on Sam. Speaking to Edward yet knowing others were listening, he'd drawn in a quick breath and plunged forward.
"Burning the bridges will only invite trouble. We should let the soldiers continue to Washington."
"So they can raise arms against one of our sister states?" Someone shouted.
Sam shook his head. "So they can put an end to this matter before any more are killed."
The comment had brought a fury of disagreement. Faces twisted in disgust. Anger permeated the building.
The police commissioner on the platform had said, "It is not open for debate, young man. The decision has already been made. If you don't agree with it, you should leave."
Sam looked at Edward. "Surely you see what I am talking about."
Edward's eyes narrowed to dark slits. His jaw was clenched. "I asked you here because I thought you were with us."
"Edward, I am with you. With all of you. Think of Julia."
"I am thinking of her!"
"Don't you see? This will bring war!"
"We are already at war!"
The crowd pressed in around him and a dozen hands seized him. The next thing Sam had known, he was face down in the spring mud. The armory door shut behind him.
And from that moment on we were at odds.
When Julia learned that Sam had not participated in the defense of the city she had been greatly distressed.
"You left Edward and the others?"
That was the beginning of her doubts. That is when her opinion of me began to change.
Sam tugged at his topper then thrust his hands deep into his pockets and kept walking. He believed in freedom, justice and good for all mankind. He was no coward.
But how was he going to prove that to Julia?
How could he make Edward understand? Now was the time for action, the time to stand up for liberty. But obtaining freedom for some meant limiting the rights of others. If Sam fully embraced the abolitionist cause, would Julia and Edward ever be able to forgive him?
Chapter Six
Julia swallowed back the lump in her throat as she approached the table. Samuel was already there. Sally was nowhere to be found. Julia wondered if her best friend would purposefully arrive late today so that Julia would be forced to interact privately with Samuel. Knowing Sally, she probably would.
Samuel was dressed in a black cutaway coat and was wearing the red-and-gold-silk vest she had sewn for him last Christmas. As was his custom, his gold watch chain was looped through one of the button holes. Julia couldn't help but wonder if her picture was still tucked safely inside the heirloom timepiece.
"Good day, Julia." Samuel's smile reached all the way to his eyes.
She tried to ignore the effect it had on her. "Good day, Samuel."
She had considered what Sally had said earlier concerning him. He did care for her. That was still obvious. His contrary political convictions may mean she could not marry him but it did not give her the right to remain angry with him.
She realized although their engagement had been broken, that did not mean Samuel was going to disappear from her life. They lived in the same city, shopped at the same market and worshipped in the same church. She was going to have to set her disappointment aside in order to interact with him. She must be civil. He was still her Christian brother and God's word commanded that they bear one another.
She set her tray on the table and removed the cloth covering the bread. She thought her parents would stop by the table to talk with Samuel but they simply waved and walked up the church steps.
"I am pleased to see that your mother and father are well," he said. His tone was pleasant and even, the same way he always spoke to her. "I was worried about them."
"I appreciate your concern." She was putting off the inevitable and she knew it. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.
"Samuel, I must apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have spoken in such a way, especially with visitors nearby'¦"
She made the mistake of looking into his face. His brown eyes cut her to the core, not with condemnation but with love. Julia promptly lost her voice and all coherent thought.
"Think no more of it," he said. "I understand that Edward'"
That snapped her back into reality. She held up her hand. "Please." If there was one thing she could not discuss, it was her brother. Too many emotions churned. "We are here to serve our fellow citizens. Let's just leave our conversation to that."
He studied her, face full of concern. Silent seconds passed. Julia could feel her chin begin to quiver.
"If that is what you wish," he said.
It wasn't what she wished for but it would have to do. She wanted to step into his arms and feel the warmth of his embrace. She wanted him to comfort her, to tell her everything would be all right.
But it isn't all right and it won't be, at least not until this war is over and Edward returns safely home.
"
Her eyes were watering. It was all Sam could do to resist pulling her into his arms. She was close enough to smell her rose water perfume, close enough to kiss; but he held back, for the sake of honor.
"What kind of bread did you bring today?" he asked.
She drew in a quick breath and for an instant he thought he saw a hint of a smile. She turned for the table and adjusted the tray.
"I brought boiled milk rolls and cornbread with jam."
He smiled at her then asked about Sally.
"I am not certain she will join us today," she said.
He started to ask why but figured Julia would have told him so if she wanted him to know. "Well, then," he said. "I suppose we will have to manage without her."
"Indeed."
The noon hour approached. So did the people. Carriages clustered about the church and Sam noted that there were several in attendance today who were not members of the congregation.
Julia noticed, as well. "Word is spreading," she said. "Father told me that Reverend Perry extended an invitation to all of the ministers in the city, even churches outside our denomination."
He told her about the meetings in New York. "Reverend Perry said that one of the reasons the event was successful was that people were willing to steer clear of politics and controversial issues. They simply came
to seek God's will."
She nodded slowly. "Perhaps when all is said and done the churches here will find more common ground."
It was the cry of his heart, not only for the Christian community but for the two of them, as well. One can serve Christ alone but so much more can be completed when two are equally yoked together.
Tensions between them relaxed somewhat as Julia settled into a productive pace. Sam doled out the cold water and she the smiles and bread.
"Would you care for a bite to eat, sir? God bless you."
The sound of her voice, the rustle of her petticoats as she moved about the table kept a smile on his face. Simply being near her made his head spin. He longed to tell her how often he thought of her, how much he missed her but he reminded himself to tread lightly.
Her manner toward him was cautiously guarded. All was not mended between them but at least they were together, interacting civilly.
A steady stream of citizens passed before their table'shoppers, police officers, laborers. One gentleman, a banker on his lunch break, inquired as to the reason for the church's hospitality.
Sam explained. "We wish to show kindness to our fellow citizens."
The banker squinted shrewdly, mistrust evident in his eyes. "Are you pro-Union or secessionist?"
Sam hesitated, unsure how to answer. In Julia's mind he was certain the response would be, "Both."
She surprised him.
"We aren't doing this for political reasons, sir. We are here to extend God's love."
She handed the man a milk roll then moved away from the table. Sam's heart swelled so that he thought he would lose the buttons on his vest.
"
Julia had seen the two Negro children before, watching wistfully from the far side of the street. They had passed by about a half hour ago, struggling to carry a large sack of grain. They were barefoot, clothes in tatters. She could tell by their thin faces that they were hungry.
While Samuel spoke with the banker, she chose two slices of cornbread, ones loaded heavily with jam, and made her way across the street. The children's eyes widened when they saw her coming.
The older boy poked the younger on the shoulder. They quickly turned away from her.
"Wait!" she called out.
Immediately they stopped, turning to face her. Their faces were even thinner up close. Their eyes showed fear.
Julia tried to put them at ease. "You both look hungry. Would you like some bread and jam?"
Fear melted into smiles as she knelt to hand them each a slice.
"Thanky ma'am," the older one said.
The younger boy grinned, busily enjoying the jam.
"Are you brothers?"
"Yes'um. We is."
"What are your names?"
"I'm Elijah and this here's Elisha."
Julia grinned. "Well Elijah and Elisha, it is such a warm day, would you like a cup of cold water? We have plenty at the table."
"Thanky ma'am but no. We gotta be off. Our master be "spectin' us."
She stood fully erect, not wanting them to be late. "All right then, run along'but I will be in the churchyard each day at noon. Come back and see me."
They nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes'um. We'z will. Thanky."
They scampered off, jam staining their dark faces. Julia chuckled to herself and once again crossed the street. She sensed somehow, God was smiling.
"
Sam had been watching her from the corner of his eye but the moment the banker walked into the church, he gave his full attention to Julia and the children.
They were slaves. He could tell by looking at them. His heart ached at the prospect of the young lads spending the rest of their lives in backbreaking bondage. More and more, he was looking forward to the meeting he planned to attend. He prayed that he might indeed be able to do "fine work' to help boys like these. For the moment, though, he chose to focus on the smiles Julia was coaxing, the bellies she was filling.
When the two boys ran off, Julia crossed the street. On her face was that innocent, sweet expression that he found so irresistible.
"You did a very good thing, just now," he said.
She blinked, her long dark lashes fluttering. "How so?"
"They are slave children, Julia. Most people wouldn't even notice them much less go out of their way to give them something to eat."
"They were hungry," she said.
"Yes. I am certain that they were. You made a difference in their life today."
"It was nothing."
"Yes, it was. Most people don't realize how hard life is for them. If they did, things would be a lot different."
Her eyes shrank suspiciously. "You mean the war?"
"I mean life."
He realized he was treading on dangerous ground. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument. The day had been so pleasant. He wanted to keep it that way.
She studied him for a moment, her dark curls framed by that butternut bonnet. "Samuel," she suddenly asked him, "what exactly are your intentions concerning the abolitionist viewpoint? Do you advocate the methods of men like John Brown?"
He was caught off guard by her directness. He wondered for a moment if she somehow knew of Dr. Carter's friends. Did she know something of their history? Were they indeed radicals?
Deciding that couldn't possibly be so, he answered honestly, "I don't know what my intentions are at this moment, Julia, but I do know that holding people hostage, slave or free, is wrong."
She nodded slowly, contemplatively.
He was encouraged by the silence.
"Is that what has been bothering you?" he dared to ask. "Do you think I am going to run off with radicals and start my own war? That I would be willing to shoot other men to make my own point?"
"No," she said. "I know you would not do such. You don't want to fight."
His shoulders slumped. She knew him better than anyone yet when it came to this issue, she simply did not understand.
"Julia, it isn't that. I'"
Something over his shoulder captured her attention. Her face blanched and her eyes immediately widened in fear. Sam turned to see what she was looking at.
Two Federal soldiers were approaching.
"
Julia's knees were wobbly beneath her petticoats and her hands were shaking. She tried to breathe normally but the best she could do was grab small snatches of air. The soldiers approached the table. Their muskets glinted in the afternoon sun.
"What's in your barrel?" one of them asked.
"Cold water," Samuel replied. "Would you gentlemen care for a drink?"
They nodded gruffly.
Julia watched as he ladled out a cupful for them both. One drank readily. The other surveyed the table.
She wondered if the man somehow knew who was pro-Union and who was not. She was thankful Sally was not there. She feared what might happen if Stephen's letter was still in her pocket.
"We have bread, as well," Samuel said, "if you are hungry."
They helped themselves, dirty hands and all. One of the men grinned at her. Samuel either did not notice or did not care. He started conversing.
"Where are you gentlemen from?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Is that so? I went to school in Philadelphia."
Samuel may feel comfortable speaking with such men but she certainly did not. Their language was coarse. She did not like the way their eyes kept scouring the table, the way they kept looking at her.
Lord, help me.
One of the water barrels, the smaller of the two, was empty. As discreetl
y as she could, Julia picked it up and started for the church side door. She rounded the building, then stole a quick glance back.
The blue uniforms were still there.
The hour was almost through and the prayer meeting would dismiss at any moment. Julia decided to put away the one barrel then wait safely in the foyer for her parents.
She realized she had left her serving tray at the table but did not return to fetch it. When her father's carriage rolled from the churchyard, Samuel was still conversing with the soldiers.
What can he possibly be talking about? Her suspicions grew. She feared somehow he was revealing details from Stephen's letter and that the soldiers would soon descend upon an unsuspecting Confederate Army.
Returning home, Julia was in a fretful state. She took care of her afternoon chores then hurried to Sally's for the sewing circle.
Her friend was waiting for her at the front door.
"And how was the prayer meeting?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose, but where were you?"
"Father had a council meeting and I though it best to remain at home." She grinned slyly. "Did you speak with Sam?"
"I did and I apologized."
Her grin widened.
"Don't get your hopes up," Julia said. "I will not change my mind. Not when he is so friendly with the Federal Army."
"What do you mean?"
Julia told her about the soldiers. "Watch what you say around him, Sally."
"Sam would never betray our confidences."
"Perhaps not intentionally but what if the soldiers press him for information?"
Sally bit her lip, considering the thought. She then tugged at Julia's sleeve.
"Come help me serve the cold tea."
They stepped into the parlor. The girls were all in attendance except for Rebekah. Julia wondered if she'd had enough of rebel traitors and decided not to come back. Sally made no mention of her. As she filled up the glasses with the sweet liquid Julia whispered, "Why don't we work on socks today, like Trudy suggested before."
Her Rebel Heart Page 8
