The Abolitionist’s Secret (2 page)

Charlotte and George rushed to her side, and spied a young, pretty Negro woman passed out and lying in the alley. A baby crawled through the nearby filth. Charlotte picked up the dirty child with ease and rocked it back and forth in her arms. Its whimpers became more hushed as she continued to soothe the child.

“What in heaven’s name happened to this poor woman?” Heather exclaimed while she investigated the young lady. Charlotte walked around the woman while the baby rode on her hip. “Do you think she’s a runaway slave?” Heather whispered.

Charlotte nodded in agreement. “You remember what they told us to watch for at our last anti-slavery meeting. Look at her feet and how they are so cut up. She must have walked quite some distance, and with a baby on her hip, too!”

George took stock of the situation. “I’m going to guess she is the slave those men inside the restaurant are looking for. She almost got to Downing’s before she passed out.”

Heather glanced at her parents. “Whatever shall we do?”

George replied, “Well, we can’t leave her and the babe here in the alley for those men to find. And we can’t take her to Downing’s. Not tonight at least. It seems we have no option. We’ll have to take her home with us for the night. Heather, you take the child. Mother, stand guard at the end of the alley while Robert and I put this woman into the carriage.”

The servant jumped down from the seat of the carriage as his name was called.

Heather took the child, who began to fuss again. Although she didn’t yet possess her mother’s touch with children, she knew what would make a baby stop crying. The child was probably starving, and most definitely needed a clean diaper. She wrinkled her nose at the odor emanating from the baby’s backside. There was nothing that could be done about the diaper now, but she did have a piece of candy. Heather pulled a piece of soft peppermint from her reticule and chewed it until it was a paste. Then, she removed it from her mouth and placed it on her finger, allowing the child to suck on it.

“It’s probably not the best thing for you, but it’s all I have. And, you’ll smell better.” The child calmed down as the sucking motion lulled it into quiet. Heather grazed her littlest finger down the baby’s smooth, dark cheek. Really, black children were no different from white ones. They all appreciated a full belly and soothing behavior from their caregivers. Heather kept out of sight of the end of the alley while her father and Robert loaded the runaway into their carriage. When the slave was safely inside, Heather and the baby followed. George motioned for Charlotte to hurry into the carriage, and he closed the door behind them as they sped away from the restaurant.

Heather glanced up at the second-story window on the backside of the brownstone and saw only darkness. She breathed out a small sigh of relief when she didn’t see Jasmine peering down at them. After all, Jasmine was not the boldly impassioned abolitionist that Heather and her parents were, even though they tried, at various times, to sway her opinion. The horses and the buggy slid quietly into the carriage house behind the home.

Heather alighted from the vehicle, still holding the babe. The young woman was slowly coming to consciousness as George and Robert helped her from the carriage and into the small bunkroom that was Robert’s domain. She tried to scramble to her feet, but fell to her knees. Charlotte went to her side and helped her into the bed.

“Please, miss, hand me my child,” the young woman implored of Heather. She looked fearful as she held out her hands for her baby.

“You’re weak and exhausted. Please, lie down and I’ll give you your baby. Mother, we must get some food from the kitchen without having Jasmine wonder what we’re doing.”

Robert went over to a dresser in the room and pulled out a dinner roll and an apple. He handed them to Heather before leaving the room to tend to the horses.

“This will do for a start,” Heather replied.

“I’ll run into the house and put some things together. I never could bring myself to give any of the baby clothes away, even though we don’t need them anymore,” Charlotte said as she scurried away.

The woman watched Heather and George with fear in her eyes, but took the roll and apple. “Where am I?”

George replied, “As you might have guessed from the horses and the scent of fresh manure, you’re in the carriage house of our home. You’re safe with my family. We’re abolitionists, and we found you passed out in an alley just outside Downing’s Restaurant. Since there were slave mongers inhabiting the place, we thought it best to bring you here for the night.”

The woman’s eyes became even more frightened. “It be me they’ze after. Me and my baby Titus.” She curled her arms around her son, who had fallen asleep.

“That’s what we figured,” George shook his head as he responded. “We’ll keep you here tonight, at least. Maybe they’ll be gone by morning and we can get you back to Downing’s so you can continue on your way.”

The woman’s eyes grew huge, and she tried again to rise from the bed. Heather took hold of her hands. “Please lie down. My family doesn’t believe in slavery. We certainly won’t be sending you back to the south.”

“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe no one.”

Heather sat on the bed next to the woman. “I can understand your hesitation. Your life cannot have been easy, and finding that there are people in this world willing to help you get away from that existence must be an odd feeling. But, forgive me, I’m completely forgetting my manners.” She held out her hand. “My name is Heather Fitzpatrick.” She nodded to her father. “This man is my father, George Fitzpatrick.”

The woman’s mouth fell open as she looked at Heather’s outstretched hand. She slowly extended her hand and clasped Heather’s. “I, uh, I’ze called Sally. My boy is Titus, named for his father.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sally. Where is Titus’s father?”

Sally’s eyes filled with tears. “My husband done got sold to another plantation. He ain’t never even seen our boy.”

Tears formed at the back of Heather’s eyes, too. She placed a hand on Sally’s arm. “Trust me that no harm will come to you or baby Titus while you’re with us.”

They sat in silence for another several minutes. Then, Charlotte came bustling back into the room.

“I checked on Jasmine and the other children, and everyone is asleep, so we will not be noticed out here. I pulled together some diapers and some baby clothes.” She turned to the young woman. “I don’t know if your child is a boy or a girl, so I brought some of each type of clothing, figuring that maybe dressing the baby in clothing opposite from the true gender might help you not be so quickly detected.”

She leaned over the young Negro woman. “What is your name, child?”

“I’m Sally, ma’am.”

“Well, Sally. I’m Charlotte Fitzpatrick, and we’re going to help you.”

Sally looked at the Fitzpatricks. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Heather grabbed the woman in a hug. “Just travel safe for the rest of your trip, and have faith that your husband will join you someday.” She rose to her feet.

George put an arm around Charlotte and Heather. “If you’ll promise us you won’t run off until we can take you back to Downing’s in the morning, we’ll leave you to take care of Titus and let the two of you get some sleep. Robert, bring a bucket of warm water and some soap for the lady. Then, join us in the house. You’ll sleep there tonight.”

Tears filled Heather’s eyes as she stepped back from the slave. She vowed Sally would never return to her life in the south. She would not be caught and be sent back. Heather would make certain of it.

Heather and Charlotte embraced as they walked from the carriage house to the brownstone. Charlotte cautioned her daughter. “I guess you and I truly are part of the anti-slavery movement now, and not just with talk. You mustn’t ever tell anyone about this little episode.”

“Not even Jasmine?”

Charlotte took a step away from Heather. “Dear Lord, especially not Jasmine! That girl couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. I know you and Jasmine have never kept things from each other since the day you were born, but in this case, it’s essential. You did a good deed tonight, to help that young lady on her way to a better future.”

“And little Titus.”

“Yes, the baby tugged at my heartstrings, too. Hopefully, he’ll never know slavery. We must get them back to Downing’s and on the Underground Railroad before either Jasmine or those nasty slave mongers find out about them.”

Heather was too wound up to even consider sleep and followed her mother into the parlor. “Mother, did you know the lieutenant was a southerner when you invited him here for the Cotillion?”

“We had only a couple of minutes to talk when I met him last fall. I detected a bit of an accent then, but I was as surprised as you to discover he was from Savannah. I’m certain his father is a slave owner. That’s why he was with those two bounty hunters tonight. But he’s here now, at my invitation, so we must go through with our plans to have him dance with you and Jasmine at the ball. Did you like him?”

“Well, yes, of course. He does cut a handsome figure. But, I’ve read the newspaper articles about what happens to abolitionists in the south. Being imprisoned for their beliefs is the least of the punishments meted out to folks who take a stand against slavery. More often than not, they’re strung up to twist in the wind as they die. I think perhaps we should leave him to Jasmine.”

Charlotte ran her hand over Heather’s hair. “Perhaps you’re right. Jasmine has no feelings one way or the other regarding the slavery issue.” She gazed into her daughter’s eyes. “But, I consider myself a pretty good judge in matters of the heart, and unless I miss my guess entirely, he fancies you.”

Heather’s breath caught in her throat. Her mother did have an uncanny knack of being able to gauge a man’s interest in one of her girls. Was she right this time? Could David really be interested in her?

She jumped up and began to pace the room. Her stomach was doing flip-flops and she didn’t know how to calm herself down.

“Do you really think he’s interested in me?” She glanced over at Charlotte with a hopeful expression on her face. “I felt some attraction when we were introduced, but if I even set foot in the south, anyone who finds out about my involvement with Sally can have me arrested.” She pulled the gloves off her hands in rapid movements, and wrung her bare hands together.

“Collect yourself, my dear. No one will find out about your involvement with Sally if you can keep it a secret from Jasmine. We now must figure out how to get her back to Downing’s in the morning.”

“It’s not just Sally. I want to do more to help the runaways, now that I know they exist here in New York. I mean, I’ve known they exist here. I listen to what’s being said at our abolitionist meetings. But seeing one face to face has changed my perspective. It’s no longer a concept but a harsh reality. Could we take some clothing and shoes to Mr. Downing tomorrow when we go ask him about Sally? You saw the threadbare dress she had on. And she definitely needs some shoes.”

Charlotte looked up at her daughter. “How is it that my quiet daughter is now so impassioned?”

“Because Sally is my age, Mother. But for the grace of God, that could easily have been me. I identified with her, and her plight, and now I want to help in any way I can. I know I have some clothing that I don’t wear anymore.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Heather. But tonight, you need to put all thoughts of slavery and abolition from your mind. You need to get your sleep. After all, you and Jasmine are being introduced to society in a few short days.”

Looking over her shoulder before ducking into the dark alley, Heather followed her mother to the back of Downing’s Restaurant. They both carried bundles in their arms. Charlotte knocked on a door that led from the alley into the restaurant. Mounds of oyster shells were stacked nearby. Heather wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell of rotting seafood as they waited for admittance.

The door finally opened quietly and they hurried into the bright, noisy kitchen. Without a word, they were led to the downstairs rooms, which housed the offices of the restaurant staff. When Charlotte cleared her throat, Thomas Downing looked up from his desk. His face registered surprise as he smiled at them.

“Ah, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, Miss Fitzpatrick, how nice to see you again.”

“We wanted to bring you some clothes we no longer need. Perhaps you can find someone who might make use of them?”

They opened their bundles to show the array of housedresses, children’s clothing and underthings. Thomas looked at them appreciatively.

“Let me get my son, George. He will have more use for this than I will. I merely operate a restaurant. He runs the depot stop.”

Thomas hurried out of the office and down the hall. Quickly, he returned with George Downing, who glanced at the mound of clothing on the desk. “Thank you both. I do have someone in need of new clothing, so this will definitely help.”

Thomas moved his gaze from the clothing to the women. “May I extend another apology to you both for having your dinner cut short last night? Those slave mongers don’t seem to mind destroying my restaurant’s reputation by interrupting business to find their missing persons.”

“Oh, Thomas, that’s quite all right,” Charlotte responded. “We know it was out of your control. However, we did happen to find something as we left that I think would be of interest to you and George.”

“What?”

Heather stood on her tiptoes and held on to George’s arm as she whispered to the men. “We found who the slave mongers were looking for, in the alley near your back door.”

George shut the door to the office before he turned to the women. Despite the relative privacy of his office, he still spoke in a whisper as he asked, “What did you do with her? And the babe?”

Charlotte replied, “We did the only logical thing we could think of, and took her home with us. She and the baby are staying in our carriage house until we can deliver them back to you.”

“You mustn’t bring her back here. The bounty hunters have gone on upstate, which is where she will head next, so she must stay put for a week or so, until her trail goes cold. And one person has stayed behind to watch for her here.”