protection from the stranger who had knocked upon it.
Sam hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome but neither had he expected such suspicion.
"I am a friend of Dr. Carter," he hastened to say.
A smile broke on her lined face and immediately her tone changed. "The young man from the seminary!"
He tipped his hat. "Yes, ma'am."
She pulled back the door, wide. "Come. Thee are welcome inside."
He knew immediately by her words that she was a Quaker.
Once inside the parlor she introduced herself as Mrs. Eli Jordan and said that her husband was a minister.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Sam said.
"It is a pleasure to meet thee."
Sam followed Mrs. Jordan through the house to the kitchen. It was there that Dr. Carter and a handful of others were gathered. Excluding Mrs. Jordan there was one woman and three men. Sam stared at the grim-faced lot. They brightened only when Dr. Carter assured them he had invited Sam to join them.
Dr. Carter turned back to Sam. "I am so pleased that you have decided to join us. You must forgive our rather cold reception. We must be careful of strangers."
"I understand," Sam said, though he was still wondering what he had gotten himself into.
"Please," said Dr. Carter. "Have a seat." He turned to the white-haired gentleman at the head of the table. "Eli, will you give dear Samuel an idea of what our purpose is?"
Eli was none other than the minister husband of Mrs. Jordan. Sam took a seat next to the man.
"Our purpose here," the minister said, "is to bring glory to God."
Sam was taken aback slightly. He had expected, "abolish slavery, educate others on its evil' but the answer the preacher had given was unexpectedly simple.
"God created all men in His image," Eli said. "It is our duty as His servants to declare His message of love."
Sam liked what he was hearing and his fear of associating with harsh temperaments like Warren Meade or radicals such as John Brown was quickly fading.
"If I may ask, sir," he said. "How do you go about spreading this message of love?"
The old preacher smiled kindly, his face a roadmap of miles and years of service for his Lord. "Perhaps I should defer to Mr. Phillips here." He motioned to the man on his right. Sam learned that this man was a city lawyer.
"There are many ways to spread God's message," Mr. Phillips said, "and many avenues of service to choose. We are not all represented here today. There are many of us."
"There are?" Sam said, wondering just how large this group was.
The lady beside him smiled. She was dressed a bit more colorfully than Mrs. Jordan. Her name was Grace Wilkerson.
"We are, as you may wish to call us, a confederation of servants," she said.
"All with the same goal," Phillips said. "There are those who pray. Those who write articles, who speak out publicly against the injustices of slavery. There are those who petition our government for change."
The old preacher leaned forward in his chair. "And then there are those who answer but to God's authority."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
Dr. Carter explained. "He means that there are many legal ways in which one can assist in the dismantling of slavery and then there are ways that are not legal according to the law of the land."
Sam was familiar with the Underground Railroad. He had met those in Philadelphia who had assisted in the escape of slaves.
"You mean conductors and station masters?"
Dr. Carter smiled. "You are familiar with the terms."
"Somewhat," Sam said.
"Then you know what difficulties those assisting runaways may face."
"Difficulties now made even more so by the presence of so many soldiers in our city," Grace added.
"You understand," Mr. Phillips said, "that these soldiers
Sam hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome but neither had he expected such suspicion.
"I am a friend of Dr. Carter," he hastened to say.
A smile broke on her lined face and immediately her tone changed. "The young man from the seminary!"
He tipped his hat. "Yes, ma'am."
She pulled back the door, wide. "Come. Thee are welcome inside."
He knew immediately by her words that she was a Quaker.
Once inside the parlor she introduced herself as Mrs. Eli Jordan and said that her husband was a minister.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Sam said.
"It is a pleasure to meet thee."
Sam followed Mrs. Jordan through the house to the kitchen. It was there that Dr. Carter and a handful of others were gathered. Excluding Mrs. Jordan there was one woman and three men. Sam stared at the grim-faced lot. They brightened only when Dr. Carter assured them he had invited Sam to join them.
Dr. Carter turned back to Sam. "I am so pleased that you have decided to join us. You must forgive our rather cold reception. We must be careful of strangers."
"I understand," Sam said, though he was still wondering what he had gotten himself into.
"Please," said Dr. Carter. "Have a seat." He turned to the white-haired gentleman at the head of the table. "Eli, will you give dear Samuel an idea of what our purpose is?"
Eli was none other than the minister husband of Mrs. Jordan. Sam took a seat next to the man.
"Our purpose here," the minister said, "is to bring glory to God."
Sam was taken aback slightly. He had expected, "abolish slavery, educate others on its evil' but the answer the preacher had given was unexpectedly simple.
"God created all men in His image," Eli said. "It is our duty as His servants to declare His message of love."
Sam liked what he was hearing and his fear of associating with harsh temperaments like Warren Meade or radicals such as John Brown was quickly fading.
"If I may ask, sir," he said. "How do you go about spreading this message of love?"
The old preacher smiled kindly, his face a roadmap of miles and years of service for his Lord. "Perhaps I should defer to Mr. Phillips here." He motioned to the man on his right. Sam learned that this man was a city lawyer.
"There are many ways to spread God's message," Mr. Phillips said, "and many avenues of service to choose. We are not all represented here today. There are many of us."
"There are?" Sam said, wondering just how large this group was.
The lady beside him smiled. She was dressed a bit more colorfully than Mrs. Jordan. Her name was Grace Wilkerson.
"We are, as you may wish to call us, a confederation of servants," she said.
"All with the same goal," Phillips said. "There are those who pray. Those who write articles, who speak out publicly against the injustices of slavery. There are those who petition our government for change."
The old preacher leaned forward in his chair. "And then there are those who answer but to God's authority."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
Dr. Carter explained. "He means that there are many legal ways in which one can assist in the dismantling of slavery and then there are ways that are not legal according to the law of the land."
Sam was familiar with the Underground Railroad. He had met those in Philadelphia who had assisted in the escape of slaves.
"You mean conductors and station masters?"
Dr. Carter smiled. "You are familiar with the terms."
"Somewhat," Sam said.
"Then you know what difficulties those assisting runaways may face."
"Difficulties now made even more so by the presence of so many soldiers in our city," Grace added.
"You understand," Mr. Phillips said, "that these soldiers
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