Storm Clouds Rolling In (31 page)

“What is it?”

“Natalie has invited me to go with Philadelphia with her. I would dearly love to go.”

Her father leaned back in his chair and regarded her with surprise. “Philadelphia? That’s quite an invitation.
How long would you be gone? Who else is going along, and where would you be staying?”

“We would be gone a month.”
She filled him in on as many details as she knew.

Thomas fell silent.
Long moments passed, but Carrie was content to wait. “This is a wonderful opportunity,” he finally said. Then his voice deepened with concern. “We are not living in normal times, however. I fear you will not find a warm welcome in the North.”

Carrie held her breath.
Surely he was not about to say no.

Thomas stared at her and then smiled.
“If I were you…It’s fine with me if you go,” he finally agreed. “I simply cannot bring myself to say no.”

“Thank you!”
Carrie jumped up from the table and wrapped her arms around her father.

FIFTEEN

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. Carrie’s spirits matched the weather. The country might be falling apart, but she was in Richmond and soon she would be headed to Philadelphia. She had a whole day free to explore the city, and she intended to make the most of it.

Miles was waiting for her when she walked out of the Spotswood after breakfast with her father.
“Good morning, Miss Carrie.”

“Good morning, Miles.
Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

“That it is, Miss.
Where you be wantin’ to go today?”

“Everywhere!”

Miles smiled indulgently and chuckled. “Where you want to go first?”

Carrie laughed along with him.
“Let’s go this way.” She glanced around at the hordes of people already clogging the sidewalks and turned east on Eighth Street. She walked briskly, talking steadily while she forged ahead. “I received quite an education last night. I simply asked several of my fellow hoteliers where I should go. They not only gave me suggestions— they told me great stories as well.”

The streets were already busy with carts and carriages.
They had only covered two blocks when they reached Grace Street. “Did you know Richmond has forty churches, Miles? A lot of them are right here on this road. That’s why they named it Grace Street.” Carrie laughed. “It seems rather appropriate.”

Miles listened intently.

They continued on another block until they reached Broad Street.
The hum of activity increased and the noise level deepened with the roar and clamor of trains entering and leaving the Broad Street depot. Carrie was fascinated by the hectic pace of the station. She loved the slow, easy pace of the plantation, but there was something about this that drew her as well. She longed to be a part of all that was going on. She carefully scanned the sea of people milling around the station and then caught herself. Who was she looking for? She blushed when she realized she was searching for Robert. She hoped to find him returning from Charleston. How silly of her to think they might meet in Richmond.

Carrie turned deliberately away from the station and strode briskly in the direction of the river.
She tried to control her thoughts about Robert, oblivious of all they passed, until they reached Monumental Episcopalian Church. “Oh, Miles,” she cried, fully aware of her surroundings again. “This is a story
you
should know. This church stands where once the Richmond Theatre stood. In 1811, on the night after Christmas, the theater was packed with many prominent Richmonders. During the performance, one of the chandeliers being used as a prop was the cause of a horrible fire.” Carrie shuddered as she envisioned it. “I can just imagine the panic as everyone tried to escape. Seventy-two people, including the governor, died in the fire.” She paused, staring up at the church. “There were a lot of heroes who helped save people who were trapped that night. One of those heroes was a black man named Gilbert Hunt. When Gilbert got to the fire, there were people jumping out the windows. He heard a man called Dr. McCaw cry out for help. Gilbert ran over and caught the women as McCaw handed them down from the window where he was standing. Together, they saved about a dozen women who would have otherwise died. When Dr. McCaw had to jump for his life, it was Gilbert who rushed forward and saved him from almost certain death because a wall of the theater was about to collapse on him. Isn’t that the most thrilling story?”

“I know Gilbert Hunt, Miss Carrie,” Miles stated quietly.

Carrie stared at him in amazement. “You know him? You mean, he’s still alive?”

“Yessum.
He be a blacksmith here in town.”

Carrie was eager to know more.
“What happened after the fire?”

Miles shrugged.
“Some folks wanted him set free for what he done, but nothin’ ever happened with dat. Finally he bought hisself his freedom. Paid eight hunerd dollars for it, I hear.”

Carrie stared at Miles.
She was sure she heard longing in his voice. Was Miles unhappy at Cromwell Plantation? She looked and maybe saw him for the very first time. A man past the prime of his years but still strong and fit. And undoubtedly the best horseman in the area. Did he have dreams? Carrie had no idea where her thoughts were coming from. She had never had these questions until recently. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. “Can I meet him?”

Miles stared at her.
“Meet him?”

“Yes,” she stated impatiently.
“I’d like to meet Gilbert Hunt. How old is he now?”

Miles looked thoughtful.
“I reckon he be somewhere’s between sixty and seventy. He still be working his smithin’ shop.”

“I’d like to meet him.”

Miles continued to stare at her, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t knows as that is such a good idea, Miss Carrie.”

“Why ever not?” she demanded.
She could tell he was uncomfortable, but he almost always did as she wished.

Slowly, he said, “There ain’t many white people go down to that part of town much.
Specially not white women. I don’t know’s how Marse Cromwell would feel ‘bout me takin’ you down there.”

Carrie wanted to push the issue but hesitated.
She didn’t even know why it was important to her. “Do many black people own businesses here in Richmond, Miles?” she asked instead.

“I guess dere be pretty many.”

“How many?”

Miles shrugged, his face nonplussed.
“I don’t rightly know the number, Miss Carrie.” He screwed his forehead tightly as he forced himself to think. “I know there are six or seven that own grocery stores. A couple more got themselves a fruit shop. There be right many who got themselves a barber shop. And I hear about a fella who’s got himself a right nice livery stable. I guess there be right many.”

“How did these people get free, Miles?”

Miles stared at her harder but answered. “Differnt ways I guess. Some people got their freedom when their masters died and done give it to ’em. Some masters give it to ‘em while they still be living. Others done bought dere freedom.”

“Don’t some slaves just run away?”

“I wouldn’t be knowing much ‘bout dat, Miss Carrie.” His voice was casual as he shrugged his big shoulders.

Carrie stared at Miles as sweat broke out on his forehead. Why was there fear in his eyes?
She couldn’t help but notice he was choosing every word carefully. Had a white person never asked him questions like this before? She wanted to ask him if he wanted to be free, yet, she didn’t really want to know. There was nothing she could do about it. Why was she even thinking this way?

The restless stirring in her heart began to irritate her.
These were questions she had never considered before. Why was her belief system being challenged? She wanted to run away from the questions and simply accept what she had always believed to be true. If she just closed her ears to the questions, perhaps she could refuse to deal with it. Reluctantly, she accepted the fact that ignoring them wouldn’t make them go away, but that didn’t help her know what to do with her questions.

Thomas was oblivious to the beautiful spring morning.
He took no notice of the bright blooms vying for his attention as he strode through Capitol Square on his way to the Capitol building. He would be early, but he had been too restless to stay in the hotel longer.

“Mr. Cromwell!”

An eager voice broke into Thomas’s thoughts. Startled, he looked up. “Robert Borden! What are you doing here, son?”

“I’ve just returned on the morning train from Charleston, sir.”

Thomas was glad to see the younger man but couldn’t shake the heaviness of his heart. “Ah, yes, Charleston...Tell me about the convention, Robert. I’d like to hear your perspective.”

Robert shook his head.
“I’m afraid it will offer you no consolation, sir.”

Thomas managed a weak smile.
“I still need to know all the truth I can. Whether I like it or not, the truth is always the best thing to deal with.”

Robert nodded and asked
, “What are you doing here in Richmond, sir?”

“I’m on my way now to a meeting with Governor Letcher.
I’m early, though, so I have some time to talk.”

“Why don’t we sit here, sir?
I’ll tell you everything I can.”

Thomas glanced up at George Washington’s statue as they settled on the bench.
Surely it was his imagination that the venerable general was wincing as he stared out at the calamity about to befall his beloved country. Thomas sighed. Was there any way to stop the onslaught of black clouds descending on the country this American hero had helped build?

Robert talked at length and then finished his recital of the events in Charleston.
“There is still hope for things to turn around in Baltimore.” Thomas nodded wearily, though both of them knew there was little hope. The passion ruling the country showed no signs of abating.

Thomas looked at his watch.
“I only have a few more minutes, Robert. Are you staying in the city tonight?”

“Yes, sir.
Two or three more days at least. I have some business to conduct.”

“In that case, we would be honored to have y
ou join us for dinner tonight. Would you be free to come to the Spotswood?”
Robert had latched onto one word. “We?” he asked hopefully.

Thomas smiled.
“Carrie is with me.” He almost laughed aloud at the look of delight illuminating the younger man’s face. It was nice to have something to divert his dark thoughts.

“I see,” Robert murmured, obviously struggling to control the broad smile spreading across his face.
“I would love to join you for dinner, sir. What time would you like me to be there?”

“Let’s make it six o’clock.
That will give you and Carrie some time alone later.”

“That’s
…very kind of you, sir,” Robert stammered.

Thomas made no attempt to hide his laughter now.
He clapped Robert on the back and rose from the bench. “It’s time for my appointment. I’ll see you later this afternoon.” He was still amused when he reached the Capitol building minutes later. The laughter died from his eyes, though, as he entered the impressive, columned bastion of democracy. Was everything this building stood for soon to collapse? Deep worry once more etched lines around his eyes. He had to wait only a few minutes before his audience with Governor Letcher was granted.