Chapter 86
A Fight between Friends
When would the deceptions end? Mary had kept her affair from Gideon, her most trusted business confidante. James had lied to Gideon and said his mother died of consumption at her brother’s home in Brownington, Vermont. The ripple effects of his mother’s forbidden love continued to linger after her death. When James stopped by the barbershop, he had to continue the charade. It was his first visit since returning home from college.
“James, come in. We were just finishing up,” said Gideon. James looked around at the barbershop. He noticed peeling paint on the walls, threadbare aprons, and just two barbers – Gideon and Gaffney. In his youth, the barbershop had seemed magical with sparkling equipment and a line of wealthy white customers waiting to be serviced by his father and his barbers.
“How is our colored lawyer this afternoon?” asked Gaffney.
“Our colored lawyer needs a law office,” James said with blunt honesty.
“Well, don’t you fret about it. You’ve come too far to turn back now,” reassured Gaffney.
“I miss your mother so much,” Gideon said. “I remember going to your house to review business matters. She was always cheerful and never too busy for tea. She was a good woman, a gracious host,” said Gideon. “Sometimes the news would be unhappy but she always took bad news with a smile on her face. I never knew such a Christian woman.”
“I miss her very much too, Gideon. She had so much faith and trust in you. Thank you for helping my mother through the difficult times,” James said.
“I’m not sure she ever got over your father. Sometimes, I would come over the house after closing up shop and she would be cooking a meal for two or three. I guess out of habit,” mused Gideon.
James bit his tongue.
James flopped down in a chair and asked Gideon about business. Gideon was only too happy to give James a dry, sterile overview of the ledger. James listened and had to fight to concentrate on what Gideon was saying. The details of accounting escaped James as they had his mother. It occurred to James the only benefit of Little Alex growing up with Mrs. Nell was Little Alex would have an appreciation for dollars and cents. Gideon droned on about accounts receivables. After five minutes, James regretted asking Gideon about business.
“Gideon, I have to go. You understand,” James said with one foot out the door.
“Don’t be shy about the business. Its your anchor in life,” Gideon said.
When James got home to Third and Wood, he poured himself a glass of apple cider and gathered a quill and parchment. It was time to write out a plan. James wrote out the names of white radical lawyers – Marvin Fells, Shelby Adams, Lawrence Walker, Elias Gray Loring. He felt confident they would be eager to mentor him as the first colored lawyer.
James first approached Marvin Fells. Known as a staunch friend of the Negro, Fells never shied away from the antislavery cause. If the cause needed a financial donation, he was the first to contribute. If the movement needed a guest speaker on short notice, Fells was your man. He took genuine joy in fighting for his colored brothers down South.
James wrote Fells a letter of inquiry. James explained his background and qualifications. He reminded Fells he was a good friend of James’ father. James had met Fells on numerous occasions awhile accompanying his father at Anti-Slavery Society conventions.
Within a few days, James received a respectful “no” from Fells.
James then wrote attorney Shelby Adams. Adams, a scion of the Presidential Adams family, held progressive racial views because he could afford to. He was not about to be uninvited to a Christmas Party because he employed a colored clerk. Not only was he an abolitionist but he believed the colored man should have the right to marry whomever he wanted to, that women should have the right to vote, and that colored judges one day were only a matter of time. Again, James explained his background and qualifications for the duties of a law clerk.
A week later, Adams wrote James a perceptive letter that zeroed in on the bedrock issue of citizenship. He could not employ James until the issue of black citizenship had been resolved.
And then there was James’ letter of inquiry to Lawrence Walker. The descendant of a French-Canadian fur trader, Walker practiced with his nephew near Boston City Hall. Walker was a dependable foot solider in the Anti-Slavery movement. He had worked shoulder to shoulder with Ted Scott. James sent Walker a letter of inquiry with the expectations of a clerkship. How could Walker say no?
Well, he did.
James burned inside as he read Walker’s rejection letter. What arrogance! What right did Walker have to decide what was unwise for James? Wasn’t it more unwise for a vowed friend of the Negro to not employ a colored law clerk? James sat down to write a scathing letter to Walker but, the more James thought about it, the more he grew suspicious of the invisible hand of William C. In fact, Walker’s letter could have been dictated by William C. James grew angry. Had William C. interfered with James’ struggle and fed arguments to radical white attorneys? The more James thought about the possibility, the more he seethed.
It was as if James were at war with the gods, friendly and unfriendly.
James flung open his front door and marched several blocks over to The Liberator. William C. was at the office pitching a new essay to Garrison. James pushed open the door to the office. “William C.! Where are you!” James screamed at the top of his lungs. William C. came from a back room with a draft essay in his hand.
“Did you talk to Lawrence Walker?” James demanded to know.
“Oh, is this about Walker?” tossed out William C.
“Did you or did you not feed arguments about the Constitution as a pro-slavery document to Walker?” James yelled.
“I spoke with a number of radical lawyers, including Walker. I’m entitled to my opinion,” replied William C. with no concern at all.
“You bastard! You know I have to find a clerkship? Bastard!” James exclaimed.
“Take that back,” said William C. “Neither of us should throw the word ‘bastard’ around.”
James shoved William C. into the wall. William C. pushed James in the chest. James stared William C. down before the two started exchanging blows with their fists. William C. grabbed James’ hair and James grabbed William C.’s arm. William C. pulled James’ hair and prepared to wallop James with a round house swing.