813 HU314S V.l SUSAN OLMOIS HISTORICAL SURVEf SUSAN jf~^\ \thW *4* 1 « J It «. ^^^^^^ |\\ ^^^^^^vc^^ K ^w Wm#\\ jp*^ SUSAN AND WILLIAM SUSAN by HENRIETTA R. HERNDON Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/susan01hern INTRODUCTION In this book I have tried to preserve the story of my great-grand- mother, Susan Dade Canady Langdon, and make it real and readable to young people. Her Journals and letters have been my source material. Unlike many books, most of my characters are real people. My apolo- gies to their descendants if I have put words into their ancestors' mouths that offend them. I have tried to stick close to the truth, and still tell a good story. Since the material is voluminous and the story long, I have divided it into three books : Book 1 . Susan's trip west — 1 847 Book 2. Her pre-war years — 1847 to 1861 Book 3. The War and Post-war years — 1861 to 1869 I am indebted to Elinor G. Robinson for the frontispiece and Hen- rietta Herndon Tweedie for the sketches throughout the book. Many in my family have encouraged and helped me. In particular, I would like to thank my daughter, Henrietta H. Tweedie, and my niece, Alice Robinson Stevenson, for their practical suggestions and criticism. Henrietta R. Herndon Summer 1962 Pentwater, Michigan CHAPTER ONE BEAUFORT, NORTH CAROLINA, 1847 It was a beautiful fall day, and though the leaves were changing color, very few had fallen. The breeze from the sea not only carried a salty tang, but there was a chill in it, a warning that even in this southern town, winter could be cold and uncomfortable. However, it was pleasantly warm here in the kitchen where the re- mains of a fire burned in the old fireplace that took off the early morn- ing chill. The copper kettle hanging from the spit was used only for beauty nowadays. A big stove that burned wood made cooking easier. When the stove was installed, the man wanted to seal up the fireplace and use the flue for the stove. Mrs. Canady would not hear of it. Many enjoyable hours had been spent around that flagstone hearth, and she expected to have many more. The stove and a new chimney could be built on the other wall be- tween the two windows. And so it was done. Most of the chairs in the room were around the breakfast table, but there was one rocker with a worn cushion (to soften the hard wood seat) by the fireplace. Near it stood a youth's cane-seated chair surrounded by wooden toys. The floor was bare, and made of wide boards almost white from much scrubbing. It was quiet in the room after the turmoil of the family breakfast. The banjo clock on the wall ticking loudly, showed the time to be nine-thirty. Brother Isaac had taken Frances to her school on the way to his own. The private school where he taught was for boys only. Baby Julia had wanted to play with the Barry children, so the colored boy, Jim, had taken her over there, and would stay and see that the children didn't go down to the River. The colored cook, Aunt Josie, had taken the breakfast dishes and pots and pans to the wash house. Only Mrs. Canady and her daughter remained. They were seated at the breakfast table before the window, through which the morning sun shone. A discussion between mother and daughter begun the night before had been renewed over coffee. The girl, Susan Dade Canady, was a pretty, slim dark-haired young thing, and she had an eager, starry-eyed expression as she leaned across the table pleading her cause. "Mama, did you sleep on it? Won't you let me marry William?" "Oh, Susan, I'm not sure it is the right thing for you/' answered her mother. "If dear Papa were here, he'd say f Yes'." "Perhaps you are right. Your dear Papa, God rest his soul, was al- ways seeking adventure. That is why he found such pleasure in going to sea. He claimed the sea was never the same. As a sea captain he enjoyed his struggle with the elements as well as the strange ports he visited. You get your adventurous spirit from him." "Mama, you never told him to stay at home. You always bid him a farewell with a smile. Why won't you let me go, too?" Susan continued to plead. "That was Asa's life. He loved the sea. I know he loved his wife and children, too. I'm not sure which came first. I never wanted to make him choose." Rather shocked, Susan asked, "Were you actually jealous of the sea?" "I suppose I was," answered her mother. "It was a force that pulled him away from me. Sometimes it was very hard to let him go. Of course, I knew when I married him what our life would be. I had other callers, too. I was slender like you, and my hair was black when I was your age." Susan interrupted, "I know that you were pretty, too. I'm sure you had lots of beaux. Why did you pick Papa? How was he different from the others?" Mrs. Canady thought a minute. "I loved him. He was the only man for me. But why? It's hard to say. Of course, I admired him greatly, his strength of character as well as his physical strength. Some prob- lems puzzled me. He would come home and immediately they were solved. He knew instinctively the right answers, so I guess his judg- ment was good." She paused. "I shall miss that as well as his love. Love is a strange emotion. It changes with the years. If you truly love Wil- liam, your love will change, too." "Never," insisted Susan. "It could never change!" "I didn't say lessen or grow dim. Quite the contrary. A good mar- riage must be nurtured and cultivated constantly. There will be quar- rels, but from each quarrel you must learn something to make your love stronger. If you truly work at it, your love becomes dearer each year. Some people say that husbands and wives get to look alike. I don't believe that, but they do have an inner understanding. This can't be achieved in a year. Truly, I think I cried more the first year of married life than all the years since." ff Why? Were you sorry you married Papa?" "Oh, no, naturally I cried when he left me the first time, but most of my tears were shed over little things, inconsequential things, slight hurts of which he was not even aware. He was a man. He didn't want to be bothered with petty household details. I learned that this was my responsibility. Now big important decisions like c Who was going to marry his favorite daughter?' he would make in a minute." "But, Mama, you have met many of these crises by yourself. He was not here when the Baby was born." "Nor Frances, either, for that matter," said Mrs. Canady. "And when Jonathan was drowned, you carried on by yourself," Susan continued. "Yes, that is true. But I knew he was returning and when he did, I could lay my burdens at his feet and my strength would be restored." Susan got up and walked up and down the kitchen. Then she stopped by her mother with a deeply worried expression. Her mother noticed this, and said, "Don't worry, child. I will adjust to this new situation. Life is like a house with three rooms. You are born and grow up in the first room, and when you marry you pass into the second room. It is brand new and you must make it comfortable and pleasant. The door to your first room is ajar. You can look back, but it is a mistake to try to go back. Then you lose your mate, it hap- pens to be a husband in my case; and you open the door to the third room and go in. That is where I am. I must close the door to this sec- ond lovely room, the temptation to return is so great, and do what I can with the new one. Perhaps some day I can open the door a little way and look back." Susan had stopped again by her mother, and placed her hand lov- ingly on her shoulder, saying, "I do feel sorry for you." "But you want to leave me." There was no joy in her mother's voice. Susan walked over to the fireplace. Standing with her back to the fire, she said, "Yes, Mama dear. I want to help William as he carries the Gospel to these faraway places." Her eyes sparkled and her voice trembled as she anticipated this glorious future. "You are sure that it is William you love, not that you wish to go to those faraway places," teased her mother with a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe you just want to get away from here." Susan shook her head. "Mama, I love Beaufort. I love my family and I shall hate to leave you all, especially you and little Fanny." Her mother said, "Yes, it will be hard for Frances. Because the baby came so soon, you have had all the care of raising Frances. You have done a good job." "She is in school now and is making many new friends," said Susan. "I expect I shall miss her more than she misses me. It will be hard for me to leave. This room! So comfortable! So full of memories! When I am in the Western wilds, there will be many times I shall long to be back here with you. But I love William and want to go wherever he goes. Hie minute he came to visit Brother, I knew I loved him." "And his silver-tongued descriptions of Kentucky had nothing to do with it?" queried her mother. "He does speak beautifully, doesn't he? But, no, I am sure that even if he wished to spend the rest of his life right here in Beaufort, I would want to marry him. Please give us your blessing, Mama!" she pleaded. Her mother sighed, "I don't know. Perhaps it is because I lost your Papa such a short time ago. I hate to see my family break up. You are going so far away. You are so small, so frail — not the kind of woman for pioneer life." "But, Mama, we are not going to be pioneers. That is, not early settlers. People have already cut the timber and made farms. The In- dians are gone, William says. It is as civilized as Beaufort . . . well, almost as civilized. Now they need guidance toward a spiritual life. William has been called to show them the Way. He is such a good man, and I know that he can help them." "Yes, I am sure he can, too. But the life of a circuit preacher is hard and money is scarce. You will have to depend mostly upon charity. I wish I could do more for you, but I can do very little." "I know, Mama," answered Susan. ff You must keep what Papa left you to take care of yourself and the children. We are young and can get along. I am not afraid." "I wish you were stronger physically. I know your spirit is willing, but the flesh . . . Ever since that dreadful time when we lost Jonathan and you tried to save him . . . When they pulled you out of the water, I thought you were lost to me, too," her mother sighed deeply. "Yes, I know, Mama." Her mother continued, "The doctor said he didn't think you would live, either. He said you would never be a strong woman. Your lungs had been damaged by so much water, and your heart weakened by the pressure." "But Mama, I am all right now," insisted Susan. "Yes, you seem well again. I just wish you could have an easier life. I hoped you would marry Claude. I know he loves you, he lives nearby, your future would be assured." "He is an old fuddy-duddy," sneered Susan. "Susan, he is a gentleman," said her mother rather indignantly. "He would take good care of you." "Mama, I simply don't love him. I just love William. If I can't have William, I don't want anybody. I'll be an old maid!" Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. ff At eighteen ! Hardly an old maid ! I just thought Claude had money whereas William . . ." Her voice trailed off. "I hate Claude, I tell you. I hate him and his money. I never want to hear of him again." "All right, all right! We won't mention him again. But why don't you wait? There will be another fine young man come along." With eyes snapping, Susan stated, "Never, never will I find another William. I know he is the man, and the only man for me." Her mother continued, "It is hard for a mother to cast her daughter out into the world with so little worldly goods now and a very bleak future. It is such a grave responsibility." Her head bowed, her hand shaded her eyes as she tried to reach a decision. Susan came over again and stood patiently by her mother's side. Finally her mother looked up and said, "I am trying so hard not to be selfish about this. As my eldest daughter, I have depended upon you. I shall miss you so desperately." Her voice shook a little and again she shaded her eyes with her hand. "It will be hard for me, too, to leave you, but Mama, I love William, and want to go with him. Please, please!" Susan pleaded. "Sometimes I regret that Isaac asked William to visit us," added her mother. "Why, Mama, how can you say such a thing! You want to see your daughter happy, don't you?" "Yes, dear," said her mother, weakening, "if you are absolutely sure that he is the right man." "I am sure, Mama! It is f Yes', isn't it?" Susan jumped up and down before her mother. "I suppose parents always feel unsure." Mrs. Canady took Susan's hand as Susan knelt in front of her. "You are a smart, intelligent girl. You have never been foolish or silly like many young girls. You should know what you want. Yes, I guess you have my blessing." She leaned forward and kissed Susan. "Oh, thank you, Mama. You are so wonderful! And you will talk to William right away? He must leave so soon and if I am going with him . . r "Go with him?" interrupted her mother. "That would be a very hurried up affair. I do want my eldest daughter to have a proper wed- ding. He can come back for you next spring." "Oh, Mama, wait that long? I want to go with him now. Then think how expensive it is to travel." "We will discuss it with William. Where is he?" "He is in the garden. I told him to stay there while I talked to you." Susan went to the window. "What are you doing?" asked her mother. "I am hanging his white scarf in the window. That is our signal for victory." "And if I had refused?" "Then the scarf would have been blue and he would have found me dissolved in tears. Instead you have made me the happiest girl in the world." She knelt beside her mother as they embraced. A strange foreboding ran through Mrs. Canady as if to warn her of the perilous journey facing her child but she shut her eyes tightly and whispered, "Bless you, my child." Susan rose quickly as a young man entered the room and ran over to him. William had a moustache and a small pointed beard which made him look older than his thirty years. He had a quick, decisive manner, and under his black brows his piercing blue eyes could look stern and austere, but now they were smiling lovingly at Susan. He took both her hands in his as he exclaimed, "The answer is f Yes' and you will be mine." Her emotion was so great that all Susan could do was nod her head. In a blissful state they stood for a moment in a world of their own. William was the first to come back to the present. Still holding Susan's hand, he turned to Mrs. Canady. "How can I thank you," he said. "I will always treasure your pre- cious daughter. I will guard her life with my own." "Yes, I am sure you will, William," answered Mrs. Canady. "I think you are a good man. It is your uncertain future that worries me." "But I have been appointed circuit preacher for the Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Central Kentucky/' "Yes, I know. But can you support a wife? Go now to your mission. By next spring or summer you will have made a place for yourself and will be much more able to care for a wife/' "Wait until next spring?" asked a surprised William. "Mama, we want to be married now/' insisted Susan. "Oh, Mrs. Canady, I can't return next spring. By then I hope to have built up a number of congregations. If I leave them then to return here, they will fall apart and I would have to begin all over. Besides, Susan will be such a help to me now at the very beginning. We can start our life work together." "But her wedding, a trousseau takes time," cried Mrs. Canady. "A trousseau is unnecessary. She doesn't need a trousseau in the West Country," answered William. "Mama, I have been working on my trousseau for years," said Susan. "Your unmentionables, yes. But your dress, Susan. You must have a proper wedding dress," pleaded Mrs. Canady. "My Christmas Church dress will do very nicely. It is just finished and since it is dark red, it will be more serviceable in which to travel. I have plenty of every-day dresses and linens to start housekeeping. Oh, please, Mama, please." Sadly, Mrs. Canady shook her head. "Just when do you have to leave, William?" William answered, "I have made reservations on the boat, India Frances, for next Saturday." "So soon? Oh dear, can't you put it off a little longer" begged Mrs. Canady. "Well, you know, the boat for New York sails only once a fortnight. We would like a few days in New York as a honeymoon. Then we can go by cars to Philadelphia, Baltimore, and on to Cumberland. That is as far as they go. There we take a stage to Uniontown and Browns- ville. From there we can get a boat to Pittsburgh. It will be a little one. But at Pittsburgh, we can get a large boat to go down the Ohio to Louisville, Kentucky. It is a long trip and takes about a month. We must start right away so that we will get there before bad weather sets 8 in. In fact, even now we may have a hard time crossing the mountains." "Yes, I know it is a long and hard trip. You are taking my girl far, far away." Mrs. Canady gave a deep sigh. "But a wonderful, beautiful trip, Mama," said Susan. "Think of seeing New York and Philadelphia and the mountains and everything! Please, Mama! Oh please, Mama." "All right, have it your own way," said Mrs. Canady reluctantly. "If it is to be so soon, I have work to do. Go away now and let me get myself organized." Thinking only of their own great happiness, the young people gaily left the room. Mrs. Canady sat on, hand clasped at the table, head slightly bowed. Her concern was not so much on the present as on the future. She could see that William had courage and was forceful. Only such a man would have gone to the West and secured this position. The church must have considered him dependable, too. He had been in their service a year and he had proved himself. It was Susan she worried about. She knew that Susan had a great capacity for love and tenderness, and she was sure that she didn't lack courage, either. But all of her life she had been delicate. She had tried to protect her from too much strain. Would William watch over her and see that she didn't overtax her strength, give her physical care as well as love and inspira- tion? She sincerely hoped so. CHAPTER TWO Susan turned over, opened her eyes, and her beloved was sitting beside her. "Are you going to live?" he asked, smiling. "Oh, dear, how miserable I have been. Is the storm over? Has the ship stopped rolling?" "I expect it will storm for days and days." Susan looked up at him with alarm, and he added, "Don't you think you should just jump overboard?" She realized that he was teasing her. "Silly, I almost believed you. Can't I sit up?" William helped her, placing pillows at her back. He gave her a quick kiss. Blushing modestly, she covered her ruffled nightgown with a white wool shawl. "Isn't this fun? I do feel better. I didn't think I ever would. That nasty old sea! How could my Papa have loved it so much! Do you think the Lord is punishing us for leaving my Mama?" "No, I don't think the Lord had anything to do with your illness. You were worn out emotionally. Your wedding and then your parting from your family. It was hard for you to bid farewell to your Mother and family even once. But to have to repeat the farewells not once but three times — that was torture for your poor soul. It was not Captain Murphy's fault. He did his best to cross the sandbar. We went out with the high tide but the storm drove the ship back. The ship's chan- nel is so narrow that every circumstance must be right to get through." "Yes, I realize how dangerous it was. Papa told me how many ships have been grounded and beaten to pieces on that reef. It extends east of Beaufort for miles in both directions, actually all along the Carolina coast. At first I thought it would be fun to go back and see the dear family. But each time it got harder to leave." There had been a severe storm the night of their wedding. As Mr. Langdon said, Captain Murphy had tried to take the India Frances 10 through the small channel between the reefs. The waves were high, to take accurate soundings with the lead proved difficult, and so he took his ship back into the harbor and tied up at the dock from which they had departed a few hours before. Everyone left the ship and went to their homes or to a friend's. Although it was Sunday, they returned the next morning for another effort to get to sea. Again they were unsuc- cessful, and were back in Beaufort for the evening church service. By the third day the storm had abated and they were able to sail through the narrow opening. The waves were still high and Susan had gone immediately to bed. "You have had a good sleep/' said William. "A little bite to eat, a little more rest, and you will be able to get out on deck. You must be strong so we can do the sights in New York." "Yes," said Susan, "I am longing to see that wonderful city with its big buildings and its bridges and the many ships from all over the world. Where is Jim?" "He was sick at first, too. So I put him on a pallet on deck. Fresh air quickly cures seasickness. It wasn't long before he began to take an interest in the sights and sounds around him. He watches the sailors at their many tasks. He has sailed a single masted boat with your brother Isaac. But he is mighty impressed with our three masts and with all the sail we carry. He even asked Captain Murphy if he could fish. Catching fish at sea is very different from the river. After pulling in a few quid, he gave up. Now he helps the sailors when they let him." "Jim is a nice boy," said Susan. ff He should be a good servant when he grows up. Mama was sweet to give him to me for a wedding present." "I will call him now to get you some toast and tea." William left the cabin and went on deck to find the little colored boy. Soon he returned and the conversation was resumed. "You know," he said, f we must be careful of our treatment of Jim in New York and Philadelphia." "I am always kind. I have never struck a Negro, and I never will. Sometimes they must be disciplined, and Jim is often slow and aggra- vating. When he dilly-dallies at a job, I get exasperated. I don't beat 11 him. I just take away his sugar. That is a real punishment because he does love his sweets." "There are many abolitionists in these northern cities and they do not understand the Negroes/' explained William. rf As I have told you, I do not believe in slavery, either, but your Mother's slaves need her help and guidance as much as she needs their services. Education and training will solve the problem someday." "Yes, Mama is teaching her slaves. Jim can read simple books now, and I must go on with his lessons. But some people are mean to their help. Mama believes in the Brotherhood of Man, and has taught us to respect all human beings." "It will be safer if we leave Jim in our hotel room when we go sight- seeing," said William. "Then we will avoid any unpleasantness." There was a tap at the door. William called, "Come in !" and a Negro boy of about seven years entered with a tray covered with a cloth. "This y'ere's yor lunch, Missie Susan." "It is Mistress Susan now, Jim." % "Lor' yes, I keeps fo'gettin'." He placed the tray on the table beside the bunk and removed the cloth. "Ya feels bettah now?" "Yes, Jim, and I understand you are all right, too." "Yes, Ma'am, Fse helpin' the sailormens. Is they enything I kin do ferya?" "I think not just now. You can go on deck and I'll call you if I need you." "Now drink some tea!" ordered William. "We have three more days at sea and you must enjoy them." "Tell me about the passengers on board. Isn't there a lady?" "Yes, a Mrs. Bell. The two men on board, Mr. Ramsay and Mr. Eden, seem very friendly. But this Mrs. Bell — well, I'm not so sure of her. She's a great big, bossy kind of woman, red-haired and quick tempered. Mr. Ramsay said that she was an Abolitionist. The fact that we have a young slave may account for her coolness. It was Mr. Ramsay that warned me to guard Jim. He says that while the aboli- tionists are disagreeable to slave owners, there is no real danger from them. But the free Negroes up there might make an effort to kidnap n him. As soon as we land, we will go directly to the United States Hotel and we will lock Jim in our bedroom." Soon Susan was able to go on deck. As Mrs. Bell was the only other woman on board, Susan was thrown much in her company. It would be hard to find two more different women. Besides being large, red- haired, and woman of years, Mrs. Bell had a big voice and bossy man- ner. In contrast, Susan's sweet, gentle way made her seem very young and innocent. This fooled the older woman into thinking she could win a convert to Abolitionism. This was Mrs. Bell's first trip south, and instead of seeing the eco- nomic necessity that had brought about slavery and perpetrated it, and the difficulty involved in an immediate change, she saw only the miser- able Negro race. "All slave-owners are wicked," stated Mrs. Bell to Susan. "You and your family will go to Hell. How can you pretend to be a Christian and marry a minister?" "I am not wicked, and neither is my mother. Aunt Josie, our cook, has lived with us always. She is getting old now, and Mama won't let her do very much. When her husband, Uncle Doc, died, Mama gave him a beautiful funeral." "But you buy and sell human beings." "No, we don't," contradicted Susan. "I tell you they have always been a part of our family. We take care of them, and they help us." "What about that boy you have with you? Where did you get him?" "He is Aunt Josie's grandson, Pearl's boy." "Where is Pearl?" demanded Mrs. Bell. "She died when Jim was born." "What about his father?" the inquisition continued. "I don't think he had a father. Pearl was a bad girl and used to sneak out with some of the farm hands that lived nearby. Mama and Aunt Josie did their best, but Aunt Josie said Pearl was 'triflin.' She had two other girls and they behaved themselves. When Esther fell in love with Amos, Mama let her marry and go to the James farm where he lived. Toddie, the other daughter, lives with us and helps with the children." In a strong voice Mrs. Bell, stated, as from a lecture platform, "I. tell 13 you it is wicked. The Good Book says that Man was born to be free." Turning again to Susan, she said, "You are taking this boy away from his family." "I am his family, and he wanted to go." There was a pause, then Susan admitted, "I know that slavery is morally wrong." "Then why don't you give him his freedom when you get to New York?" "He is young and inexperienced. He would starve. I will teach him and train him and care for him. Can't you understand?" "No, I can't, and I think you are an ignorant as well as a stubborn young woman." This was only one of a number of arguments the two women had. Once Mrs. Bell lost her temper and stomped off indignantly. Susan remain polite but firm. She could not understand Mrs. Bell's violent opinions. Neither side weakened. When Mr. Langdon found Susan depressed by this situation, he was unsympathetic. He said Mrs. Bell was an extremist, did more harm than good, and suggested Susan leave her alone. Susan and William spent many uninterrupted hours getting to know each other: walking on deck, standing at the rail to watch the ever- changing sea, and resting in their tiny little cabin. The three days passed only too quickly. They encountered rough weather as they rounded Sandy Hook. This did not make Susan seasick but she did slip and fall. "My dear, are you hurt?" asked an anxious William. "I don't think so. Oh, look at my lovely new red slipper," wailed Susan. "The slipper is not important. Let me see your ankle," and William felt the ankle. "Really, I am all right. I can get up." "Slowly, slowly !" William helper her up. "The heel is broken from my new slippers. Do you think it can be fixed?" asked Susan. "We shall see." He examined the slipper with one hand and sup- ported Susan with the other. "They are silly little things. Your sturdy black shoes are much better for walking on deck." 14 'Those black shoes are ugly. I just wanted to look pretty for you/' "You always look pretty to me. Come. Ill help you to our cabin and I think you had better let Vanity rest while the ship is rolling, and wear the ugly footgear. Don't look so sad. We will visit a cobbler in New York. If your shoe can be repaired anywhere, it can be done there." Cheered by this promise, Susan was helped to her cabin and put on the practical black shoes. 15 CHAPTER THREE The Captain announced that he expected to enter the New York Harbor early Friday morning. Susan's anticipation was so great that she had difficulty sleeping the night before. Dawn was just breaking when Susan and William went on deck. Low land stretched on either side, Jersey Coast on the left and an island on the right. ff New York is on an island, too, you know/' explained William. "Yes, I know it was bought from the Indians by the Dutch. See how many ships we are passing. Some going one way and some another." "If you can see their flags, you can guess where they are from/' said William. 'That big schooner is English. Do you suppose it came over from England?" ff Since it is moving so sluggishly," answered William, "I'd guess it was heavily laden with sugar and that it is from the West Indies." Ships of every description could be seen on every side. If you didn't take this as proof that you were approaching a great harbor, the num- ber of gulls that followed each boat, large and small, would at least tell you that you were close to land. While they watched the sun got brighter and soon burned off the low clouds that seemed to hang here and there over the water. "William" Susan spoke up, "I am reluctant to speak of this, but I thought you were very rude to Mrs. Bell last night." "Well, I didn't like her asking so many personal questions," said William. "She was just trying to be friendly," explained Susan. "Anyway, I apologized to her for you when you went on deck. She just wanted to know where we were stopping in the City." "You did not tell her, did you?" William seemed alarmed. "Of course, I did." "Mrs. Langdon, that was very foolish. Didn't I tell you that she could make trouble for us? I would change our hotel if I could. The United 16 States Hotel is accustomed to Southerners and doesn't mind our bring- ing a slave. Many hotels are not so understanding/' "Dear me, I am sorry. I didn't know it would upset you." Susan shrugged her shoulders. "I am sure that it will be all right. You are worrying needlessly. Mrs. Bell may be an Abolitionist, but she is a lady." "In the future you must pay greater attention to my wishes. It is too late now," said William. "We will just have to be doubly careful. See, we have rounded the end of the island and there is the skyline." "Isn't it wonderful! It is just as I had dreamed it would be, but larger. The buildings are so high." "They are beginning to take in sail." "How can we get in without hitting some of those ships?" "It does take skill. We will reef all but a small piece of canvas. Some- times the wind is too strong and that is bad, or sometimes it is gusty. It will be easier today with this light wind off our starboard." They stood and watched the sailors in the shrouds reef the big sails. Sailors on deck pulled in and coiled the ropes. Captain Murphy stood behind the man at the wheel, giving orders. Shouting and apparent confusion was everywhere. The India Frances passed many smaller craft and soon the ship glided gently to the dock where men were wait- ing to catch the lines to make her fast. "Come, Mrs. Langdon! Come, Jim! We must go below to get our things." "It is so wonderful. I hate to miss even a moment of it." Susan turned reluctantly from the rail and followed her husband below. New York was a thrilling experience for Susan. Not only was it a joy to be a bride with an adoring husband, but this largest city in her country offered many new sights. She tried to tell of some of these in her letter to her mother. Letter to Mrs. Canady from her daughter: Dear Mama : Captain Murphy has been kind enough to take mail back to you. The other day I gave him a note on our arrival, telling of our 17 safe journey. Now I would like to send you this picture. It is a daguerreotype — not a tintype. It is much better than a tintype, as you can see. The machine was invented by a Frenchman named Daguerre and a strange contraption it is, too. I peeked under the black curtain into the box, and Mr. Langdon was standing on his head. But it does turn out all right, doesn't it? Saturday we went to Mr. P. T. Barnum's Museum. It cost twenty-five cents to get in, but it was worth every penny because we saw General Tom Thumb. He is just as tiny as they claim, and I was surprised to find that he is very smart. He is a dwarf, you know, not even as big as the Baby, but he is a grown man. He can sing and dance, and has performed for the Queen of England. There are all kinds of marvelous things in that Museum. The crowd was enormous. We followed some arrows, thinking they led to something exciting, and found ourselves out on the street. That was a clever way of thinning out the crowd. We were tired, so we took the cars back to the hotel. On Sunday we were privileged to attend two services. In the morning we went to the big church on 5th Avenue. It is very grand and awe-inspiring. I wore my dark red bombazine dress with the matching bonnet. In the evening, we went to a smaller one on Wall Street. I am sure both ministers were very fine, though my dear husband accused me of paying more attention to the ladies' hats and the music than to the minister. The accusa- tion was made because I couldn't recall the texts from either service. I did thank God for bringing us safely this far on our way, and I asked Him to watch over my dear ones at home. I can't begin to tell you of all the wonderful things I have seen. We are shopping this afternoon. Mr. Langdon wants to buy me a dark colored shawl. He says I will need it, but I think this is really just an excuse for taking another ride on the horse cars. We leave in the morning for Philadelphia. We are well and hope you are in good health. Your loving daughter, Susan Dade Canady Langdon. 18 Mr. Langdon was out while Susan was writing. He now returned with a package. Susan greeted him as though he had been gone for weeks, and immediately noticed the bundle. "It's a surprise for me, isn't it?" she asked. "Maybe this is for Jim/' teased William, holding the package in back of him. So obvious was Susan's disappointment that William laughed, and handed the package over to her. "Will you promise to wear them only when it is safe?" "Oh, they are my slippers. You had my slippers repaired!" She busily unwrapped and examined them. "They are as good as new! I am so happy. When did you take them? You are a darling!" She threw her arms about William. "I had to sneak out with them. I walked and walked to find a cob- bler who felt he could put the heel back on so it would stay. To see you so happy, I feel well repaid." William smiled down at Susan. "I am a lucky girl to have such a wonderful husband." "I saw many shawls and could have bought one for you, but I thought you would enjoy picking it out yourself." "Oh, I would! I would!" "Are you ready to go now?" asked William. "Except for my bonnet," answered Susan. "I must speak to the hotel manager. It will take but a minute. Jim is in the kitchen. HI send him up and you come down to the lobby as soon as you are ready." William left the room, and Susan went to her bedroom to prepare for her outing. As Susan explained in her letter, one of the pleasures of shopping was the ride on the horse car. Riding along, William told her what some of the buildings were. It was the people on the streets that fas- cinated her. She noticed they were mostly men. Ladies rode in car- riages. The few women walking were shabbily dressed, and often had children with them. Perhaps they were foreign born. When they reached the store they saw many beautiful things to buy, but contented themselves with the purchase of the shawl. There 19 were a great number of these. Susan used care and deliberation in making her choice, and William was consulted. Finally the selection was made. Returning from their shopping expedition, Mr. and Mrs. Langdon gaily entered the Hotel and climbed the red carpeted stairs to their room. Their first shock was to find their sitting-room door standing open. Alarmed at once, they entered and called for Jim. "Jim! Jim r they called. There was no answer. ff Jim! Jim!" they called again. Susan ran frantically into the bed- room, searching for Jim. He was not there. Jim was gone! 70 CHAPTER FOUR Shocked at finding an empty room, the lovely new shawl that had just been purchased with such joy was tossed aside. Susan dashed back and forth in her anxiety. "How do you suppose he got out?" queried William. 'The door was locked, wasn't it?" He turned accusingly to Susan. "It was my fault, it is all my fault," sobbed Susan. "I was careless. I didn't lock the door." "Mrs. Langdon! I told you . . ." Susan interrupted, "Yes, I know you did. But I didn't think it was so important. We were in a hurry. God forgive me for disobeying my good husband. William, do not be cross with me." "How can I help but be cross? I explained the situation. You chose to disobey." William was really annoyed. Susan sobbed harder. This was their first quarrel. Susan knew she was at fault, but there was nothing she could do. She cried even harder. William made no effort to comfort her. In his fury he strode into the bedroom and slammed the door. A few moments later he reentered the room and said, "I had better report this to the police, though I don't think it will do a bit of good. They would rather help the slaves to escape than try to catch them." Leaving Susan, he descended the stairs and crossed to the manager's desk. No one was there, so he rang the little bell placed there for that purpose. The manager came out of a side door and when he saw Mr. Langdon, his face burst into a smile. "I am trouble," said Mr. Langdon. "Where is a police station?" "Put your mind at rest, Mr. Langdon. It is about the little colored boy, isn't it?" asked the manager. "Yes, do you know where he is?" "Yes, I have him locked in my sitting room. You are very lucky that I happened to see them and could scare them into leaving without the boy. I did not see them enter — I must have been in the dining room. 21 As I returned to the lobby, I saw Ann Bill, a free Negro woman who has been a trouble maker for years. I knew when I saw her that she was up to mischief. Then I saw your boy and realized they were abducting him. The other woman was white, big and red-haired." "Mrs. Bell!" uttered Mr. Langdon. "You know her?" "She was on the ship with us, and Mrs. Langdon told her where we were stopping. How did you get them to leave?" "I told them you were related to the Mayor, and could get them arrested for stealing. It wasn't the truth, of course, but they let go of Jim for a minute and he was so frightened, he turned and dashed up- stairs to your rooms. After they had gone, I brought him down here because I couldn't lock your room." "Mrs. Langdon has the key which she didn't use. I don't know how to thank you. We are leaving tomorrow morning on the cars for Philadelphia, and I thought we would surely have to go without Jim. I do appreciate what you have done." "That is all right. I will go and get the boy." So saying, the manager turned and went back to his quarters. Soon he appeared with Jim. Mr. Langdon grabbed Jim by the arm roughly. "Jim, why did you let those women in? Why did you go with them?" "Mastah William, they sed we was gwin to a big candy strah and I'se could 'ave all I'se could eat." "I told you not to leave on any condition, didn't I? You disobeyed me." "Ya sah," shamefaced Jim hung his head. "Temptation was too much for you. Next time you must resist Satan. In punishment you will have no sugar or sweets for a week. Now let us go to your mistress. She disobeyed me, too, but we had better go and put her out of her misery." With a nod to the manager and further expressions of thanks, Mr. Langdon turned and again climbed the broad red carpeted stairs, this time followed by a sad little colored boy. 71 23 CHAPTER FIVE The little party of three started off the next morning on the horse cars which were to take them to the Jersey Ferry. Their trunks and boxes had been sent directly from the ship to the train station in Newark, so they were only burdened with their satchels and valise that could be carried easily by Mr. Langdon and Jim. It was a very subdued Mrs. Langdon and an even quieter little colored boy that bid goodby to the manager of the hotel. But by the time they had got themselves and their luggage aboard the ferry and started across the river, the view of that wonderful big city and her interest in the big paddle that drove the ferry, raised Susan's spirits to such a degree that she was soon exclaiming about everything. Susan had packed away her good red dress and bonnet. For traveling she had a dark wool skirt with many flounces around the bottom so that it flared as though she wore hoops. Actually her hoops were in her trunk. A number of petticoats would have to serve on this long, hard journey west. Her blouse, button down the front, was black silk and fitted very snugly around her small waist, and had tight sleeves. It was relieved at neck and wrists with white collar and cuffs. Her bonnet, too, was black, but it was trimmed with two tiny powder blue ostrich feathers which bobbed about as she tossed her head. Stray black curls kept peeping out below the bonnet. Her new black shawl protected her from the cold. Though a somber costume, her bright young face with sparkling eyes and vivacious manner kept it from appearing too severe. When they reached the Jersey shore, they made another change to a carriage and thence to the train that would take them almost to Philadelphia. Neither Susan nor Jim had ever been on a train. In fact, Susan had only seen one once before while on a visit to Charleston, South Carolina. Consequently, they were a little frightened by the prospects of a ride on this horseless carriage. Mr. Langdon explained 24 the wood-fired engine to them as soon as he had them seated in one of the double seats facing each other. Across the aisle sat a bright-eyed boy of about Jim's age. He was with a fine looking gentleman who was apparently his father. The boy listened attentively to Mr. Langdon's history of the steam engine. All at once a whistle blew, there was a shout, a clatter and bang, and with a jerk the car began to move. Quickly the train gained momentum and to Susan and Jim, they seemed to be flying through the town, passing houses and barns, and soon there was just the flat New Jersey country- side unfolding on either side of the train. Susan gasped as the train started, and clutched Mr. Langdon's hand. "You are sure it won't run off the rails?" she asked anxiously. "I don't believe it will," William tried to assure her. "It goes so fast. I've never gone so fast." "Yes, it does go fast, but not any faster than you have sailed in Isaac's boat in a good wind. I like it. Compared to the stage coach, it is so smooth. How do you like it, Jim?" The little colored boy had turned a little grey with fright when the train started. His color had returned, but he sat very still, his lips mov- ing soundlessly. Only now and then his eyes glanced up and out of the window. Most of the time they looked down at his hands clenched tightly in his lap. Mr. Langdon had to repeat his question to get the boy's attention. "Yas, suh." Apparently the boy still hadn't heard Mr. Langdon's question. "What's the matter with you?" "I'se jest prayin' to the Dere Lord to git us out of dis yere contrap- shun," answered Jim. "I think He will, Jim. This train has made many trips safely. See, your mistress is enjoying herself, aren't you, dear?" "Well . . ." Susan wasn't sure. "You aren't frightened any more?" "Just excited, I guess," answered Susan. "The trees and bushes go by so fast it hurts your eyes." Jim had been looking out, and now said, "Oh, my, look at dat horse run! He's scart, too." 15 "What if a horse or cow gets in our way? What would happen?" "We have a cow catcher on the front of our engine/' explained William. "It picks the animals up and shoves them out of our way so we can't run over them. Ill show you when we stop at one of the stations." The little boy across the aisle spoke up, "We ran into a cow going to New York." "Did it hurt the cow?" asked Susan. "Don't think so, did it, Papa?" "I don't believe so," answered the gentleman, and introduced him- self. "I am Mr. Crawford of Cincinnati, and this is my son, Arthur. We are going to Philadelphia." Mr. Langdon introduced himself and his wife, and said they were going to Philadelphia, too. "I would like to have a cigar. Will you join me, Mr. Langdon? We can smoke on the rear platform." "I do not smoke, but I would be glad to stretch my legs." William rose and Susan started to get up, too. "Shouldn't I come?" asked Susan. "No, dear, I won't leave you if you are anxious." "I am all right. Jim will protect me." "Perhaps you will be kind enough to keep an eye on Arthur for me?" asked Mr. Crawford. Mrs. Langdon assured him that she would be glad to. The two men retired to the rear of the coach, and going through the door, they found themselves on a small platform surrounded by an iron railing. It was partly protected from inclement weather by a projection of the roof of the coach. There was plenty of fresh air, though it was some- times mixed with smoke and dust. Here they could talk men's talk and the cigar smoke wouldn't bother the ladies in the coach. "Arthur, wouldn't you like to sit with us?" asked Susan. "I'm not afraid," boasted Arthur. "I know all about the trains. We came all the way to New York from Cincinnati for my operation." "Is that so? What kind of an operation did you have?" "I had a pain in my belly and they cut me open and took out some rocks. They call it lithotomy." 26 "I've heard of that. I didn't know that children had it. You look very healthy for a boy who had such a malady/' remarked Susan. "I am now. I grew three inches in bed, and Papa had to buy me new clothes/' Arthur told her with great pride. "Dir ya say they cut ya up?" Jim's eyes opened wide, "and ya is still hyar?" c They sewed me up again, silly. I guess it was a very successful operation. Would you like to see my scar?" "Yasahllshowould!" "Well," said Arthur, "next time we go to the men's room, I'll show it to you. What are you doing?" Arthur had been watching Jim, whose hands were busy over a small piece of wood. "I'se cuttin', too, but no young men's bellies. I'se makin' a bare." "Let's see. It sure is going to be a bear. Can you make a horse?" "Sho nouf !" answered Jim. "Will you make one for me? If I can persuade Papa to get me a knife, will you show me how to carve? Oh dear, there won't be time. We can't stay in Philadelphia — we must go on to Baltimore tomorrow." Mrs. Langdon spoke up, "We are going on tomorrow, too. I must get some more wood for Jim in Philadelphia and I will get enough for you, too. You persuade your Papa to get you a knife and tomorrow Jim can give you a lesson. You must be very careful with the knife." "Oh, I will," promised Arthur. "And I will make horses and soldiers and Indians." "Not so fast, young man," smiled Susan. "Carving is a long, slow work and requires much practice and not every one has a knack for it. Jim seems to have a natural talent with a knife. He has whittled since he was a little boy." "I'd like to try, anyway. It sure looks easy and more fun than practicing on the piano." Conversation lagged while Arthur watched Jim gradually creating the little bear. Susan was happy now, just looking at the changing landscape out of the window. Stops were frequent, sometimes at a station to let passengers get off or on, sometimes for no apparent rea- son at all. Once they loaded the car behind the engine with wood. One 17 stop was for water. The men returned occasionally to check on their respective families, but soon retired again to the back platform where they could enjoy masculine conversation. Trenton was the only city they passed through. While the train was in the station, the men got off to purchase food for lunch : buns, cold meat and a cake. Susan saw the men descend to the platform and decided she wanted to go, too. Her legs were stiff from sitting so long. She told the boys to stay where they were, and went to the end of the coach. There was no one to help her (everyone had entered the sta- tion) but she got safely down the few steps. "My, but it felt good to get some fresh air and exercise. Just a little quick walk is what I need/' she thought, as she walked down the platform. The conductor appeared and shouted, "All aboard!" The men dashed out of the station with their bundles, and climbed back on to the train. Susan heard the shout, and turned. Oh dear! She had walked further than she should. She must hurry. It was hard to walk fast with her long skirts. The train was going to pull out without her! Where was her dear husband? She reached down, picked up her skirts and ran towards the train. It was something no lady should do, but in her brief fright, Susan didn't care. Just as she reached the steps the giant wheels began to revolve. She tried to put her foot up on the step but couldn't reach it. Quickly she grabbed with both hands at the hand railings and pulled herself up by her arms. She reached the entrance to the car with tears in her eyes and had to swallow many times before her body calmed. Suddenly she was aware of the other passengers. Had anyone seen her foolish performance? Fortunately only the conductor saw her narrow escape. In the confusion, Mr. Langdon had not missed her. Ashamed of her irresponsibility, and promising herself to be more careful in the future, Susan joined some of the other passengers at the front end of the coach. They were heating water on a little stove to make tea. With the purchases from the station, all fell to with a hearty appetite. Jim was permitted to share everything but the cake. Though he looked at the sweet ruefully, he took his punishment well. The time passed so pleasantly that they could hardly believe it when 28 the man came and told them they were approaching Camden, and the end of the line. To get to Philadelphia, they must cross the Delaware River on a ferry. As Susan said, they were learning a lot of geography. Susan thoroughly enjoyed their stay in Philadelphia, "The City of Brotherly Love/' as she called it. It seemed cleaner and not so noisy as New York. The row after row of red brick houses that lined the streets, each with its well-swept stoop, appealed to her more than the brown- stone buildings in New York. Many of the houses had white trim and white front doors with lovely fan-shaped glass transoms. Some were set back far enough to have a bit of lawn and a few trees in front. These were the exception, as gardens were generally in the rear for greater privacy. There were no objections this time when Mr. Langdon locked Jim in the hotel room when he and Susan went out. Susan had inquired for a lumber yard. Fortunately there was one close by, and they could stop on their way to supper. The man at the yard was very sympa- thetic when he learned the reason for the request for small pieces of wood, and he filled her string bag with scrap lumber at no charge. Susan felt she had to visit Independence Hall and see the Liberty Bell. They were just closing the Hall when they arrived, but they could admire its architecture and exclaim over the big crack in the Bell. She learned that the original bell had been cast in England in 1752 by order of the Assembly of Pennsylvania. The first time it rang, it broke, so another was made, this one. It was this very one that rang on the 8th of July, 1776, to call the citizens together to proclaim the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. Then it was rung every anniversary thereafter, until in 1835. It cracked then while tolling the funeral of Chief Justice John Marshall. Susan read the inscription on the Bell, "Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof." Her heart glowed with natural pride in her country as she recalled its history and the fine men who fought to make this country free. After their supper they did not linger long on the street, for they had to rise early the next morning to take the train to Baltimore. While Jim ate the food they had brought back for him, Susan told him about 29 the big bell that had rung to declare freedom in the land. Jim was not very attentive. Susan scolded him, "Jim, pay attention! You didn't hear a word I said, I do declare!" "Yessu, I'se listinin'," but still he sat brooding, hardly touching his supper. "What is the matter?" asked Susan. "That thar salt, ma'am. Spillin' salt is shore gwine to bring us bad luck." They had brought a small packet of salt along with supper for him, and in opening the package, most of it had fallen on the floor. Though Mr. Langdon laughed at them, both Susan and Jim had tried to pick up some of it — not to eat, but to throw over their left shoulders. "Don't worry, Jim, I think we broke the spell," said Susan. "That is ridiculous," scorned Mr. Langdon. "Eat your food, Jim. We must get to bed." Jim fished into his pocket, found his trusty rabbit's foot, and clutch- ing it tightly in one hand, he glumly ate his supper. He knew something dreadful awaited them in the near future. He had been scared when he got on the train the first time. That was nervous fear. No bad omens had caused it. But the next morning when he mounted the steps, he had reason to be scared. Much salt had been spilt. That was an omen that never failed. He had no confidence in the iron carriage. Would the engine blow up or run off the track? Would a trestle give way and let them plunge into a canyon. He wasn't sure, but the future looked black. 30 CHAPTER SIX Susan reflected some of Jim's nervousness, though it is doubtful that she remembered and worried over the salt. It is true that she be- lieved in many superstitions. She had been raised by a colored mammy who lived by omens, good and bad. Though her mind told her they were foolish, she could not completely ignore them. Why walk under a ladder if you didn't have to? Why let a black cat cross your path? That was as silly as planting potatoes in the light of the moon. Not even the arrival of Mr. Crawford and Arthur cheered the two. Mr. Langdon was pleased to leave them with Arthur and retire to the rear plateform with Mr. Crawford. Arthur had gotten his knife and was eager to start a lesson. Susan hunted out a piece of red cedar from her bag of blocks. 'This is easier to carve than white pine," said Susan as she held out the small square block. " Maybe you should have a lesson in identi- fying the kinds of wood first." "No, please!" begged Arthur. "I want to use my knife. I want to make a horse." "That will be too hard," Susan told him. "Why don't you try to make a ball?" When Arthur showed reluctance, she explained that if he began with something too difficult, he would get discouraged and quit. "But I like horses," insisted Arthur, and began to whittle away at the block of wood. Soon Jim reached over, fished out a block for him- self. As he carved, his gloom gradually lifted. In a very short time Arthur held up a strange shaped object. "See my horse," he said proudly. "Yes, you did make a horse," agreed Susan. Jim gave a little chuckle. "Jim, behave yourself," scolded Susan. "Don't look lak no horse to me," insisted Jim. "You have never seen a Western horse, Jim. Maybe they are dif- ferent." said Susan diplomatically. 31 "Well," Arthur said, examining it earnestly, "perhaps it is not as good as your horses." Suddenly,