Her Rebel Heart
He had refused to take it back.
Look at me, Julia.
Seconds passed. He knew she could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, she spoke.
“If you will excuse me, Samuel. I have work to tend to.”
He drew in a shallow breath, knowing he had a decision to make. He could argue. He could refuse to leave. He could force her to turn around.
But when a lady makes a request, a gentleman will oblige her.
Walking out of the kitchen was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He wanted to take her in his arms, to set things right. He wanted to convince her that her anger toward him was pointless. He loved her. She loved him. He could see it in her eyes.
But Julia Marie Stanton was a stubborn woman. No amount of convincing could change her mind. She would have to do that for herself.
He was determined to wait until she did.
And in that time spent waiting, he’d pray that she would one day see things from his perspective.
He walked back to the lean-to. He placed the ax on the shelf then gathered up his outer clothing. Rather than return to the house by way of the kitchen, he entered through the garden door.
Dr. Stanton was still in the study. His spectacles were perched upon his nose, medical book still in his hands. He looked up.
“Thank you, son. Will you stay for supper?”
The offer was tempting. Goodness knows he wanted to. Even apart from his longing to stay with Julia, there was also the comfort to be found in time spent with Dr. and Mrs. Stanton. The prospect of returning to his lonely, cheerless home held little appeal in comparison.
But he had caused enough tension in the house already.
“Thank you, sir,” he said. “But I have some errands to run this evening.”
“Ah, I see. Be careful. I was out this morning and I noticed several boys in blue.”
Sam nodded. “What do you think the next few weeks will bring?”
Julia’s father shrugged. “Hard to say but I hope it is little more than an intimidating presence.”
It reminded Sam of the answer he had given his students.
“After all,” Dr. Stanton added, “the state legislature voted on their own accord to remain loyal to the Union. Let us hope and pray that that is the end of it.”
Sam shook his hand and headed out to the street, praying silently but most fervently that Dr. Stanton’s words would prove true. But the sinking feeling in his heart warned him that there was far more trouble awaiting them still.
From a crack in the kitchen door Julia had seen Samuel’s broad back as he talked to her father. She had not been able to hear what they said. She wondered if he had told her father of their broken engagement. She wondered if Samuel had taken that moment to seek his advice on how to win her back.
Well, he won’t win me back. He has proven his intentions. I will stand on my convictions whether he comes to chop wood or not.
From her vantage point she watched him shake hands with her father. Then as Samuel turned, Julia let the door close. She returned quickly to the stove. As she stood stirring the chicken soup, she heard the front door shut.
She peeked out the window. Samuel was walking down the street in the direction of the harbor. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets. His topper was set low on his forehead but she could tell he was deep in thought. Was he thinking of Edward? Was he thinking of her?
Her father came into the kitchen. Julia immediately left the window.
“He has gone to have a look about the city,” he said, knowing exactly whom she was staring after. “Now, do you want to tell me what is going on?”
Julia turned from the stove to look at her father. She could tell that he had also endured a long, sleepless night. Tired lines were prevalent on his face. His left leg, which had been injured in a carriage accident years before, must have been bothering him. He was favoring it.
“I am making soup for Mother,” she explained.
“I’m not talking about soup, Julia.”
Her father’s tone was firm, almost scolding.
Samuel has talked to him, she thought. I knew he would. “He told you, didn’t he?”
“He?” Her father repeated, eyebrows arched. “I assume you mean Sam. And no, he didn’t tell me anything. It was your indifference toward him when you came asking about the wood that caught my attention. Now what is going on?”
Julia could feel her cheeks reddening. She knew her father liked Samuel. He always had. Would he understand her position? Would he support her decision?
She stirred the soup once more, stalling, searching for words.
Her father was drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. She knew he would not leave until she had given him an answer.
I will have to make it known sooner or later. It might as well be now, she thought. “I have decided not to marry him.”
The drumming stopped. “Does he know this?” her father asked.
Julia kept her eyes on the soup. Little bits of carrots and chicken were floating in the broth. “Yes. He knows.”
He grunted. Then there were several seconds of silence. “When did you decide this?” he asked.
Julia put down her spoon. It was obvious that her business in the kitchen was not going to deter her father’s questioning. “Last night.”
“Last night?”
“I told him so when Edward—” Fresh grief over her brother’s enlistment choked her voice. She looked at her father, hoping her eyes could convey the rest. Surely you must feel the same.
Her father drew in a deep breath. “I see. Is this about you and Sam or is it about Edward?”
“It is both,” she admitted. “You have seen what has happened here. That day at the train station… Father, the soldiers fired upon us! Our fellow citizens were killed!”
“I know, Julia. I treated the wounded.”
“Yes, and Edward has decided to do something! He’s gone to Virginia to fight. But Samuel, he won’t go! He won’t defend what he says he cares about!”
“Because he won’t go to Virginia?” Her father sighed. “Perhaps I set a poor example. Perhaps I remained neutral on this issue for too long. The issue of States’ Rights, slavery included, never affected us.”
“They affect you now,” she said, “or they soon will. Northern soldiers have guns turned on this very neighborhood. If we don’t stand against them, how can we ever be safe again?”
“And you think Samuel joining the Confederacy will change all of that?”
She blinked, not knowing how to answer.
Her father continued. “Sam has traveled. He has experienced life and drawn from others’ life experiences. As a result, he carries a wider perspective of the world. He has spoken to me a few times about a man named Frederick Douglass.”
“Yes, I know. The man from Boston. He mentioned him once.”
The subject of slavery may have been a contentious topic in the nation for years but not so in the Stanton household. Julia’s family did not own any slaves and none of their closest friends did either. Julia had never truly formed an opinion on the subject—and saw no need to now. The plight of a man living in Boston mattered very little to her compared to the safety of her family and friends right here in Maryland.
“Did he tell you he is a former slave?” her father asked. “A former Maryland slave?”
“No.”
“Well, perhaps he wished to spare you the indelicate details. The things he spoke of have given me cause to think.” He paused. “Rights are all fine and good until they infringe on the rights of others.”
Julia shook her head. She still didn’t see what that had to do with anything here in Mount Vernon. “But what about the soldiers?”
“I don’t like their presence any more than you. Sam doesn’t either, for that matter. But, given the scope, the turmoil that this nation is now facing, I understand why they thought it necessary to occupy Baltimore.”
Julia let out a disgusted sigh. Her father had always encouraged her and Edward to express their own opinions. She did so now. “How can you even say that? What if their occupation leads to more trouble on the streets? It won’t be safe for Mother or me to venture outside.”
“Soldiers follow the orders of their commanding officers, of the president. The Bible tells us to pray for those in authority over us. If the military leaders remain honorable then we have nothing to fear.” Then he added, “As for your honor, should the worst come, I have no doubt that Samuel Ward would give his life to protect you.”
She felt her chin begin to quiver. Samuel had promised her such but she didn’t believe him. He had professed loyalty to her family as well; yet he had abandoned her brother when he needed him most.
“Edward and Sam are two very different men,” Dr. Stanton said. “They always have been. You know that better than anyone. Their friendship worked because they complemented each other’s strengths, each other’s weaknesses. They accepted one another’s differences.”
Scenes of years past flashed through her mind. Edward and Samuel had been schoolmates and best friends for as long as she could remember. Tears filled her eyes when she thought about what their relationship had become.
“And now?” she asked.
“Disagreements come to every relationship, some large, some small. It is how those disagreements are navigated that determines the future course of the relationship.”
Silence hung heavily. Like the steam from the stove pot, it permeated the kitchen. Finally, her father asked, “Is that soup ready?”
Julia had nearly forgotten it. She removed it from the heat. “It’s ready.”
“Then I will take a bowl up to your mother.”
She filled a dish and placed it on a tray. Then she sliced up a loaf of bread, buttered it and laid it with the soup. She handed it to her father.
“Thank you, child.” Then he turned for the door.
Julia was left alone to think about what he had said.
Chapter Two
Sam kept walking until he ended up at the wharf. Sunset was approaching and the local fishermen were making their way back to port. Their vessels were loaded with rockfish and blue crabs, a bountiful harvest from the Chesapeake Bay. He had often come to watch the ships roll in. It was a satisfying sight, a long hard day of work ended, the harbor tranquil and deep.
Tonight the local vessels had to steer and maneuver more than usual for the Baltimore harbor was also full of military ships. Their masts stood stall and black against the orange and purple sky. Sam tried to focus on the crabbing vessels. If he stared at them alone, life appeared to be peaceful.
But life isn’t peaceful nor will it be for quite some time.
Sighing, he turned toward Federal Hill. An American flag flapped in the evening breeze while men in blue stood as sentinels over the city. Sam sadly thought how appropriate the hill’s identity now was. Named nearly one hundred years before, it was on that very spot that Marylanders had celebrated the ratification of the Federal Constitution. No one then ever dreamed the site would be prime high ground for an occupying army with guns turned on its own citizens.
When I stepped off that train I walked onto a battlefield, he thought.
His fists clenched and his blood raced just thinking of that April day. Sam had returned home having completed his studies and graduation exercises in Philadelphia. As they had planned through their letters, Julia and Edward had met his train.
The President Street station was filled with citizens and Massachusetts soldiers. Sam had assumed the regiment was on their way to Washington, but had paid little attention to them. Though the business in South Carolina and Virginia was tantamount to insurrection, it had not concerned him. His only thoughts were of Julia, their long-awaited reunion and the July wedding they had planned.
She had been waiting for him beneath the clock, a red and black bonnet on her head and the smile on her face that he found so irresistible. Samuel had barely spared a glance in Edward’s direction as he’d drawn her in, at least as close as her hoop and ruffled skirts would allow.
“I have missed you,” he’d said.
Her eyes had been full of love. “I have missed you as well.”
As they’d exchanged words of devotion and promise, neither one noticed that the Massachusetts soldiers had formed a column, that they had begun to march toward the southbound train lines on Bolton Street. None of them had realized how angry the citizens around them had become until someone bumped Julia from behind. She’d crashed into Sam’s chest. The crowd was fast becoming a mob.
“We should leave,” he’d said to Edward.
“Indeed. This way! Double quick!”
They’d turned for the street. Edward ducked as a stone whizzed past his head. Rocks and bottles were flying. Sam did his best to shelter Julia from the debris while her brother led them through the crowd. The citizens were shouting insults at the soldiers. Some of the soldiers were beginning to answer back. Sam feared they would soon use more than ugly words.
“Where is the carriage?” he’d asked Edward.
“Over here!”
They’d done their best to cross the street. Pressing hard against the angry flow, they had been like salmon swimming upstream. By the time they’d reached Pratt Street, paving stones were being ripped from the roadbed. Carts and wagons were overturned. Julia tripped twice on her skirts.
Tears had silvered her lashes. “What is happening? Why is everyone acting this way?”
“Hurry. We must hurry.”
Screams erupted as a volley of gunfire sent the masses scurrying. “They are shooting at us!” Julia cried. “The soldiers are shooting at us!”
Instinctively, Sam shoved Julia into a narrow alley, knocking loose her bonnet. He and Edward then fell in behind.
He’d thought that would be the end of it, that cooler heads would prevail and peace would return. He was wrong. War had come. His best friend had left to fight and the woman he loved now wanted no part of the life they had planned together.
Sam’s shoulders fell with another long, labored sigh. He knew the conflict between him and Julia stemmed from that day on Pratt Street. She had recently confessed to having nightmares about the incident and was wary of walking anywhere in public. She loathed and feared the Federal soldiers who had brought such chaos and destruction to her city.
Nearly a dozen Baltimoreans had died and countless others were wounded. Edward sought his solace in taking a stand against troops who would open fire in the presence of innocent civilians. Sam understood such a response but he could not bring himself to join Edward’s cause.
And yet to do nothing…
He snatched his topper from his head and raked his fingers through his hair. Standing on the dock, he gazed at the might of the Federal forces. Would scenes like the one at the train station be repeated? Were worse things to come?
Where are You God? Have You turned Your back on us, on this city? What are we supposed to do now?
Though Sam waited, God did not answer. A cool breeze blew over the harbor. The smell of fish drifted past his nose. By now it was almost dark. Replacing his hat and thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, he turned back toward Mount Vernon. The shops along Pratt Street were closing up for the evening. The lamplighter was making his rounds. Sam walked past him. The man nodded pleasantly, then moved on to his next lamppost. Sam couldn’t help but wonder which side the man and his family had chosen.
Are they pro-Union or pro-secession? Are they united or divided?
By the time Sam reached Monument Square he met up with a small contingent of Federal soldiers. Even in the semidarkness he could see that their uniforms were new and blue. They had brass buckles on their belts, polished muskets on their shoulders. He wondered if they had ever seen conflict before.
A corporal in the group eyed him suspiciously. Assuming he was just another renegade in a neighborhood full of Southern sympathizers, the man fell out of step long enough to glare at Sam. He nodded politely to the soldier, then kept walking. He had no quarrel with the corporal and he wanted to keep it that way.
The neighborhood doors were shut tight and the curtains drawn. The Stanton home was no exception. As Sam passed by he wondered what Julia was doing at that very moment. Had she baked another loaf of bread? Was the kindling box empty? Resisting the urge to knock on the door and find out, he kept walking.
He lived a few blocks north of Mount Vernon. His was a quieter street and his brick home more modest than those in Julia’s neighborhood. Sam’s home was furnished sparsely, little more than the necessities. He had never minded the bare solitude before. It was conducive to study. Tonight, however, the house just seemed empty and cold.
I will start the stove, he thought, warm up something to eat.
He checked the kindling box. It was running low. He immediately thought of Julia and the look on her face when she saw him in her father’s study. Pain squeezed his heart.
She did not wish to see me.
Sam lit a lantern. Once more he took off his frock coat and went outside. He picked up his own ax and set to the task of splitting wood. That which had earlier been done as a labor of love was now an act of drudgery.
Sunday morning dawned warm and humid, a foretaste of the oppressive summer to come. Julia dressed for church but found that her mind was far from worship. She was concerned about what the atmosphere of the morning service would be like. Many of her fellow parishioners already knew of Edward’s enlistment and those that didn’t would soon find out. She wondered what some would say. There had been tension in the congregation before the occupation of the city. Many families supported States’ Rights. Just as many others professed loyalty to the Union.
Oh, Lord, please don’t let there be a scene.
She climbed into the back of her father’s carriage. The seat seemed so empty without Edward beside her. She wondered where her brother was that morning. Had he and the rest of the Guard crossed safely into Virginia? What, if anything, had he had to eat?
After whispering a prayer for his safety her thoughts returned to church. She wondered if Samuel would be waiting on the front steps when they arrived. He always walked to the building early, saying he enjoyed the serenity of the Lord’s Day morning. He would wait for her carriage to come to a stop then help her out. He’d give her hand a squeeze. She would smile.
I won’t smile this morning, she thought, even if he is there.
Her father rolled the carriage to a stop in front of the church. Fellow worshippers clustered about the yard but Samuel wasn’t there. Julia felt an odd mixture of disappointment and relief. She climbed slowly from her father’s carriage then followed her parents into the building.
The windows were open, yet the room was stuffy. Creatures of habit, most parishioners sat in their usual pews each Sunday. Today, the people were scattered about. Longtime friends were now on separate sides of the aisle. Even some families were divided. A tension filled the air. No one seemed to be breathing.
Julia knew exactly what had happened. A chill ran through her. They have chosen sides, she thought. And now they will watch to see what we do.
She glanced at her father. He did not hesitate. Dr. Stanton led his wife to their usual pew, five from the front on the left-hand side. They sat down. Julia adjusted her hoop. She opened her fan. The chill had passed and now she was sweating.
Within seconds after taking their seat, Charlie Johnson, a local businessman and friend of the family, slipped in behind her father. He whispered, though his words were loud enough that Julia could hear them.
“Thomas, for goodness’ sake, what are you doing? Edward has enlisted. Why are you sitting on this side of the church?”
Julia blanched. She realized to what Mr. Johnson was referring. They were sitting with those members who had expressed their support for the Federal occupation. Families with sons fighting for the Confederacy were seated on the right side of the congregation. Julia wanted to shrink from view.
Her father did not flinch. “We are sitting where we always have, Charlie,” he said calmly. “This is our family pew. It always has been. It always will be.”
Mr. Johnson let out a huff but moved back to his seat without further argument. A murmur swept over the congregation. Julia sat frozen, eyes staring straight ahead. She was glad that her bonnet limited her view to what was directly in front of her. She did not want to see what was happening around her. She knew the whispers were about her family.
The pew creaked and Julia realized someone else was approaching. She held her breath, fearing another confrontation about their seating arrangements. She cocked her head ever so slightly, just enough to see who was coming.
It was Samuel.
He was dressed in his finest brown frock coat, Bible in his hand. His face was calm, undisturbed. He looked like he was the only person in the building who had come to worship.
He nodded to Julia’s parents. Then he sat down beside her, just as he had every Sunday for years. He gave her a long measured look. The weight of his gaze caused her to tremble. She wanted to ask him what he was doing joining them as if nothing had changed. But given what had just taken place with Charlie Johnson, the last thing she wanted was to cause more contention over the seating arrangements.
He smiled at her. Though she tried to ignore it, her heart was fluttering.
Reverend Perry then took to the pulpit and the service began. Julia could not say what songs they sang or what Scriptures they read. She was distracted by Samuel’s presence. Part of her welcomed it, the other couldn’t fathom it.
How can he sit beside me as though nothing has happened? I have told him that I do not wish to marry him. Why can’t he take no for an answer?
She stole glances at him. There he sat with his Bible on his lap, lost in reading. It was as though, in his mind, there were no guns, no war, as though all the world was right. Julia was even more puzzled. How can he act this way? Doesn’t he care? Doesn’t he worry for Edward’s sake? For the sake of this city?
It was only when Samuel bowed his head did she realize that Reverend Perry was closing the service in prayer. Julia also closed her eyes. She tried to focus, to be respectful.
“Lord, we humbly ask Thee to grant President Lincoln wisdom.”
A murmur rippled through the right side of the room. Julia was as surprised by his words as the rest of the group was. All thoughts of conversing with the Almighty dissipated and her focus shifted to Reverend Perry’s words alone. She held her breath. The Reverend did not stop with his petition for Lincoln. He also prayed for the officers and soldiers occupying the city.
He is making his position known, she thought. He is obviously siding with the Union.
“And we ask Thee to guard our young men who have chosen to fight…”
In shock, her head went up. Just when she thought she had him pegged as a supporter of the Federal Army, the Reverend prayed for the safety of eight men who had enlisted for the Confederacy. All eight were sons of the congregation. When Edward’s name was mentioned, tears squeezed past her eyelids and a cry escaped her lips. Julia had to fight hard to keep from breaking down completely.
Just when she felt her composure crumbling, she felt the warmth of a hand slide over and around her trembling fingers. Samuel had taken her hand in his. His touch conveyed the love, the strength, the same comfort as it always had. In spite of herself, Julia clasped it tightly while whispering her own prayer on Edward’s behalf.
GODCOMFORTHER, Sam thought. He stole a glance at Julia’s face. Her head was bowed and she was clutching a lace handkerchief to her mouth. He could understand the pain she was feeling. Edward’s departure was bad enough but coupled with the way he had parted, the tension in the family that night, it only made things worse. Sam regretted every minute of their conversation.