No Refuge

Charity pushed her way into Mr. Francis’s law office that morning in late August 1712, with a determination she hoped the lawyer would match. Though it was early in the day, the Virginia summer had been a long, hot one. Charity was dripping sweat from her forehead to her neck and everywhere else the sun didn’t shine. She had walked another five miles after her husband Mingo had dropped her off at the outskirts of Surry County. It was as far as he could take her without being late to Mr. Thomas Hux’s place. He had already committed to a job for Mr. Hux and his brother William later that afternoon. Mingo assured Charity that, otherwise, he would’ve accompanied her to the lawyer’s office to press charges against Mr. George Jordan, Jr. himself. Mingo considered himself lucky he hadn’t run into Mr. Jordan since the incident in the Spring. Or maybe it was Mr. Jordan who was lucky. Or maybe it was Mingo’s friends and family that kept Mr. Jordan out of Mingo’s way and vice versa. The unspeakable acts he had committed against Mingo’s daughter, Jane, made Mingo seethe inside. Her mother, Charity, may have even been angrier.

“Well, good mornin’,” the skinny pale lawyer said turning to the door and greeting the flustered but smartly dressed woman in his office. She looked like she had walked all the way from Charles City and crossed the river to be here. She was a pretty, bright skinned black girl. Looked to be a freewoman by her outfit. “How may I help you, ma’am?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

Charity straightened her posture and pressed her clothes with her hands under Mr. Francis’s gaze, more self-conscious now than during her commute here. “Mr. Francis”, Charity gathered her strength. She promised to be brave for her daughter. “I would like to charge my neighbor, Mr. Jordan, for atrocities committed against my daughter, Jane Mingo.”

“Arthur Jordan?” Mr. Francis asked. He knew Mr. Jordan and couldn’t imagine the kind farmer committing such an act.

“No, his brother, George, Jr.” Charity replied. “My name is Charity. I’m married to Mingo.”

“Oh, I see,” Mr. Francis said. “Come on in and have a seat in my office. Robert! Robert!”

A tall, young man who looked like he had been plucked right off the farm and put into a suit that day by Mr. Francis came into the front office carrying a stack of papers.

“Yes, Mr. Francis,” the young man asked with a deep, husky voice.

“This is Mrs. Charity, Mingo’s wife.” Mr. Francis said, “and this is Robert, my secretary.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Robert said kindly to Charity. Charity nodded.

“Could you get a glass of water for Mrs. Charity? We’ll be in the office,” Mr. Francis said.

Mr. Francis had heard about Charity and her family. She was a freewoman married to Randolph Mingo, the freeman. He worked as a farmhand around Surry County and Charles City. He knew they had a daughter too. He was unsure of her age but didn’t think she was any older than his Suzanne who had just turned eleven that July. He pulled a seat up for his client and gestured for her to sit. There was some speculation as to whom Mrs. Charity’s father was and if he lived in the community. Her mother, Judith, another free woman, lived next door to Charity and Mingo. Judith and Charity were not born free as Mr. Francis understood it. Judith had been granted her freedom in the will of a Mr. George Jordan, Sr. in the 1680s and Charity had been freed by Mr. Arthur Jordan ten years later. Arthur was George’s younger son, and George Jr., the eldest. Giving the understanding of the entanglement of their families and the seeming goodwill between the two, Mr. Francis was surprised by the allegations of Mrs. Charity and her intentions.

“Ok, Mrs. Charity,” Mr. Francis said,” tell me everything I need to know about what transpired between your daughter and Mr. George Jordan, the junior. As best to your recollection.”

Robert returned with a glass of water at the perfect moment. He handed it to Charity, who took a couple of big gulps before launching into her tale for Mr. Francis.

“Well, I guess, it started a couple of weeks ago,” Charity started, “My lil girl went missin’. Right around supper time. Not like her at all. She always comes home and don’t leave our farm without tellin’ me or her daddy. We looked everywhere. Me, Mingo, and even Mama after we tol’ her what’s goin’ on.”

“Did she return that night or the next morning?” Mr. Francis asked.

“No!” Charity said, starting to cry,” No! They had to go get her! Mingo, Mr. Arthur, and the Huxes. They had to go and get her from him. He stole her! Grabbed her up and took her to his farm!”

“Who?” Mr. Francis asked.

“Junior! Mr. George, Jr.,” Charity cried.

Mr. Francis couldn’t understand what George Jr’s motivation would be in taking a young girl from her mother. Especially from a family that had been so closely entwined with the Jordans. “I’m sorry, ma’am. What happened when they confronted Mr. Jordan? Did he let her go?”

“Only after they went up there,” she cried,” He had her for a week! And the things she suffered through! She won’t even tell me everything! She’s only ten, Mr. Francis!”

Mr. Francis politely waited for Charity to gather herself before he asked another question. “How’d you all find out she was in Mr. Jordan’s custody?”

“Mr. Hux,” Charity said,” Thomas. And Arthur Jordan saw her too. He said his brother had no intention of bringing her back to me.”

Mr. Francis furrowed his brow. On one hand, Mr. Jordan had returned the girl when confronted by his neighbors, on the other hand, he didn’t want Surry County turning into a lawless land where men can take the daughters of freeman without any accountability to the community no matter what color skin that freeman had. He was proud of the community and the way they treated their freemen. They were forming a strong community in Surry and Charles City based in law. Maybe that is what men like George, Jr were afraid of.

“Do you think the Huxes and Mr. Arthur Jordan would be willing to talk with me about what transpired?” He asked.

“Yes, and Mingo,” Charity replied.” They can all tell you what happened.”

The word of the Huxes would have more weight than Mingo. Even though he was a freeman, the jury would give more credence to the Huxes. And George Jr’s brother, Arthur, of course. If he were really willing to testify against his own brother.

“Well, Mrs. Charity,” Mr. Francis said,” I’ll speak with the Huxes and Mr. Arthur Jordan. If I feel I can charge Mr. Jordan with their testimony, I’ll take you on as a client. I’ll also have to speak with your daughter. Will that be alright with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine with me,” Charity replied. She would speak with Jane about what she needed to do.

Mr. Francis helped Charity up and escorted her to the front of the office. He hoped to talk with some of the witnesses today and the next to see if he could bring charges against Mr. Jordan. He could bring them to the courthouse by tomorrow if the witnesses cooperate.

“Please, help us, Mr. Francis,” Charity asked with tears in her eyes. “We just want to live here in peace. We don’t bother nobody.”

It was true. Mr. Francis had been practicing in Surry for years and never heard of many issues with the freemen of the area. Maybe a couple of drunken fights every now and again, but nothing compared to the Englishmen. Especially Charity’s family. Despite Charity having Jane out of wedlock, they had been model citizens.

“I’ll do my best Mrs. Charity,” Mr. Francis replied. “Robert, could you have the young man Charles from next door take Mrs. Charity?”

“Oh no, Mr. Francis, you don’t have to do all that,” Charity protested, “I can walk. I’m going over to my Mama’s now anyway.

“I don’t want you walking down the road in this state,” Mr. Francis said.” Charles, the delivery boy usually has a morning route to the farms anyway.”

Robert nodded in agreement. “I’ll go see when he if he can take you to your mama’s.” He left to go to Mr. Sawyer’s Store and came back a few minutes later. He waved for Charity to follow him.

Charles was only about fourteen years old and looked like he had already been working for about three hours that day. His carriage was almost fully loaded with products to take out to the farms.

“I got a big load, but you can sit up front with me,” Charles said. He grabbed Charity’s hand and helped her onto the carriage.

Charles went to discuss something with Mr. Francis, then went to finish loading and secure his delivery.

“I’ll let you know this week what I can help you with, Mrs. Charity,” Mr. Francis said, “Keep safe and try to avoid any interaction with Mr. Jordan from here on.”

Charity nodded, “Thank you, sir.”

Charles got into the driver’s seat as Mr. Francis stood back and watched the carriage leave. The ride back to the farm was long, but better than walking. The sun got angrier as it traveled higher into the sky. Charles had a couple of deliveries to make on the way to Miss Judith’s place. Charity waited patiently in the passenger seat while he caught up with the families. They waved politely to Charity when he explained why there was a free woman with him on his delivery route. Charity used the time to pray that the witnesses to the atrocities committed against her daughter would cooperate with Mr. Francis. If there was any justice in Surry County, she thought he could still use some divine help. They got to her mama’s house around noon, the sun burning his brightest and hottest.

Miss Judith was sitting outside on the porch, taking a break after her morning chores. She looked up surprised to see her daughter, Charity, getting out of Mr. Sawyer’s delivery carriage. She watched as the delivery boy, Charlie, helped her down in front of Judith’s house. Charity walked up the road waving goodbye and thanking him. Judith tried to study her daughter’s face to see what news she would bring of her meeting with Mr. Francis and the charges against George, Jr. Judith had known the boy since he was born. He even drank her milk when his mom refused to do it anymore one week after he was born. The duty of breastfeeding is not for the weak.

Of course, that was long ago. Before Judith had been freed by George’s father in his will. Judith raised both of the Jordan boys, George Jr. and Arthur. She always warned their mother of George Jr’s cruel tendencies, but it was explained away as his temperament. Arthur was the cerebral one, George, the physically gifted, tough one. Like his father. Their mother always liked to categorize everything. The kitchen was arranged just so, as was the, and her children. This made life easier, she explained to Judith many times. She wondered what she would make of what George had done to Judith’s granddaughter. Would that be explained away as just part of his temperament? His cruelty knew no bounds as far as Judith was concerned and she would be ok if he never walked God’s Earth again.

Charity made her way up the dirt road to her mama’s house. She was tired physically and emotionally by the time she made it to the porch. She plopped down in the chair next to her mother and let the weight of the morning slide down her body into the ground. Judith gave her some time to sit in her emotions. “Where’s Jane?” Charity asked.

“Inside, preparing the biscuits,” Judith answered, giving her the hint that now was a good time to let her know what happened with Mr. Francis.

“Mama, do you remember that time George Jr, stole that newborn foal and said I had done it?” Charity asked.

Judith had forgotten amongst the stories of George Jr’s antics as a boy, the story of the foal. He thought it would be funny to see if it could find its way back to the barn from the backwoods. It had only been alive some twelve hours. Mingo, the farmhand then, found it in the field next to the backwoods. He brought him back and he and Mr. George, Sr. nursed him back to health. When his father confronted him, George, Jr. said that Charity had taken the foal, thinking it a unicorn. George, Sr did not believe him and gave him ten lashings something good with the belt. George, Jr., from then on, always accused his father of favoring Charity over his own sons and his mother was apt to agree. This made Charity’s teenage years tougher than most in the house serving Mrs. Jordan. Judith felt somewhat better when, in Charity’s eighteenth year, George, Sr. gave Charity to Arthur and his new bride as a wedding gift. Though she would not be under Judith’s eye, she at least was away from Mrs. Jordan and George, Jr. Arthur and his wife were always kind to Charity. Arthur viewed Charity as more of a sister than George, Jr. They had all grown up together, so it did not surprise Judith when Arthur decided to allow Charity her freedom after his father had freed herself.

Judith remembered going up to Arthur’s farm that day Charity left for good. She helped Charity pack so she could move into Judith’s house. Just the two of them, together and free. It was just a small one-bedroom house, but it was on ten acres of land, and she had her chickens and one old cow. They would be comfortable, and Charity could help her with the chores. The land had been the worst of Mr. George, Sr.’s larger lot, but that did not stop George, Jr. from contesting the gift at the reading of the will. He could not understand why his father would grant Judith her freedom and give her land. Even if he had no plans for that land but to let it grow wild. Charity and Mingo were the ones who helped Miss Judith clear the land and build her house. Arthur had quelled his brother and Miss Judith lived on the land in peace for near thirty years. Arthur had even recently given Charity and Mingo five acres of land of their own attached to Miss Judith’s land.

“Mrs. Jordan always did say God gave her an angel in Arthur because Jr had nothing but the devil in him.” Judith said, answering Charity’s question.