CHAPTER III
We blundering humans are much given to looking back over our lives and saying, “There we made a mistake. If it were to do over again we would do thus and so, and then things would turn out much better and happier.”
But if we could go back and live our lives over again, at how many of the turning points would we have the courage, or the desire, to take the other direction? How often would we care to risk any different combination of events than that which we had formerly dared? For experience has taught us, at least, how endless and how momentous is the line of events, not only for ourselves but also for a growing multitude of others, that we set in motion with each choice of the forking road. Moved by our own desires and the compelling force of outward circumstances we travel over the course the first time, choosing our route with little thought for the intricate coils of consequence that hang upon our steps. But if we were to journey over it again would not our feet drag at the turnings and waver back to the path we already knew, rather than venture blindly upon some new chain of events, leading none could tell whither and ending only with the end of time?
Thus did it happen that Dr. Amos M. Ware in after years sometimes debated with himself as to whether he made a mistake in not speaking sooner to his daughter Rhoda about the work, of deep concern to him, in which he hoped to enlist her sympathy and help. Often did he ask himself if perhaps it would not have been better for her had he laid his plan before her at once, on the very day of Hardaker’s visit, when her mind and heart were so deeply impressed that there would have been little doubt of her acquiescence. But he wanted to talk with her more, to give her more things to read, and so to lead her deeper into the heart of the fires with which North and South were burning. And in the meantime came Jefferson Delavan.
Afterwards he was wont to say to himself that if he had spoken, and everything had been arranged and the work started before that event happened, the young man’s coming would have made little difference to Rhoda, that then he would simply have gone away again and that would have been the end of it. But he was wont also to reassure himself with the thought that perhaps Delavan would have come again anyway, and that, even if he had not returned, perhaps it would have been no better for Rhoda. But the “ifs” and “perhapses” so tangled up his reflections that he always ended by thinking he would not quite liketo risk acting differently if it were to do over again.
Of course, there would have been a story anyway, no matter what Dr. Ware might have done at that particular juncture, nor what the consequences of his action might have been. It would not have been the story I am about to relate, and perhaps Jefferson Delavan would not have been in it. But given Rhoda Ware and given her environment, it would have been bound to be a story somewhat out of the ordinary. As to that, however, in every human life there is a story that needs only adequate telling to make it seem more interesting than life does to the most of us.
Rhoda Ware’s father did not know what she thought, nor, indeed, whether or not she had any conviction, upon the right or wrong of the system of helping and hasting fugitive slaves through the northern states to Canada and freedom which in that day was known, and has passed into history, as the Underground Railroad. He did feel sure, and his pride in her increased with the thought, that if she were not convinced of its righteousness, although it was in defiance of the law, she would not engage in it. But he also felt sure that if she saw the matter as did he and his co-workers, as a question of the right of the individual conscience above the general law, she would come to his assistance with courage and enthusiasm. And therefore before broaching the subject he wishedto make sure of her convictions upon all the points that led up to this practical climax.
Like thousands upon thousands of others, her first keen feeling upon the subject of slavery was aroused by the reading of Mrs. Stowe’s fateful book. She was only one of the unnumbered host for whom its emotional appeal was the first incentive to active opposition. The influence of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” upon the course of events preceding the Civil War is proof of how much more ready we Americans are to be moved by our emotions than by argument, of how much more willing we are to think with our hearts than with our heads.
Dr. Ware put into her hands Senator Sumner’s speech on “The Crime against Kansas,” the cause of the assault upon him, which was being read all through the north by the hundred thousand copies, and he brought her reports of the huge meetings of indignation held in Boston, New York, and other cities, and presided over and addressed by men of national fame. From Kansas the news of the sacking of Lawrence added fuel to the flame of anger that was sweeping over the North, and to the feeling of horror and reprobation in which Rhoda joined there was added in her mind the note of personal resentment. For a letter from her friend Julia Hammerton, Horace Hardaker’s sister, gave an intimate account of the attack and told of the indignities and loss herself and herhusband had suffered at the hands of the border ruffians.
Rhoda was deeply moved by these events and day by day became more keenly interested, while her father, watching her closely, decided that soon he would speak to her upon the project he had so much at heart. He purposed to lay before her the whole question, tell her of the part which it was his desire to take in the work of the Underground Railroad, and ask for her coöperation.
Underneath the apparent peace in which the Ohio river town of Hillside basked in the sweet May sunshine of that day when Rhoda and her father drove up the hill on their return from Cincinnati, feeling on the slavery question ran deep and bitter. And the events which had happened since that day had intensified the heat and the bitterness until, just as all over the country, men felt that they were dwelling over a volcano which might break out at any moment, none could tell with what violence and destruction. The pro-slavery element of the town, quick to seize every opportunity of expressing its friendliness for the South, held a meeting at which resolutions were passed lauding Representative Brooks for his chivalry in coming to the defense of his kinsman and his state, and declaring that he deserved the admiration of all who believed in honor and manliness for the justly deserved punishment he had meted out to a notorious abolitionist. And thenmoney was donated with enthusiasm for the purchase of a cane to be presented to him which should bear the inscription, “Use knock-down arguments” and the device of a broken human head.
The anti-slavery element planned to hold a meeting two nights later at which they proposed to express their feelings in denunciation of Brooks and in praise of Sumner and his speech, to voice their indignation over the course of events in Kansas, and to ask for money for the relief of the free-state settlers and for the sending of more colonists with whom to swell their numbers. It was Dr. Ware’s intention to take Rhoda to this meeting, at which he was to make the principal speech, and immediately afterward to have with her the conversation which he believed would secure her help.
But in the afternoon of that day Jefferson Delavan appeared at the door of his office and hoped he might present his respects to Mrs. Ware and Miss Rhoda.