by Mark J Rose
**********
After a couple of hours, the young men had exhausted almost every topic and eventually started getting up from the table. Will had been deep in the conversation from start to finish. When he finally checked the grandfather clock in the corner, he said, “The time!” Almost immediately, he and Matt were saying their goodbyes, rushing out of the inn, and hopping into the buggy. “We must collect my clothes, and then we’re off!” Will exclaimed.
They sped down the road to a small house. Will jumped from the buggy and raced inside with Matt one step behind. The bag on Will’s bed was partially packed, and he pulled more items from the dresser and a brand-new hat from the wardrobe. “Try this,” he said. “It was a gift. It’s too small.” Matt set the tri-cornered hat on his head and found that it was quite comfortable. In the pictures, these hats always looked awkward and bulky, but now that he had one on his head, he saw the attraction. Will looked up from his bag and said, “A fine Richmond gentleman. It’s yours.”
“Who wears these?” Matt asked, looking at his reflection in the window.
“Tricorns?” Will asked as he looked into his bag. “Everyone I know,” he murmured, distracted. “Do they not wear them in Philadelphia?”
“Yes,” Matt replied hesitantly. Every picture of Ben Franklin he had ever seen had him in one of these hats. “I just don’t wear them.”
“That one’s too nice for the fields,” Will said.
Matt stepped back in front of the windowpane to stare at his reflection. He did look the part of a colonial gentleman. Will finished packing and they ran back out to the buggy and sped toward the farm, trying to make up for lost time.
“How long will we bring in hay?” Matt asked.
“A fortnight or so,” Will replied. “’Tis not only hay. There’s corn and oats, and Uncle also has tobacco.”
“You grow tobacco?” Matt asked, surprised.
“Uncle has some conceit we should make money for purchasing stock.”
“Is there money in tobacco?”
“Depends on supply. Much gets exported to England. As of late it seems every farm is growing leaf.”
“How long will you work in the fields?” Matt asked.
“Until the hay’s done.”
“What about your apprenticeship?”
“It’s agreed that I’d be gone for planting and harvest. I desire some respite from Samuel Smith. He works me like a slave.”
11
Damn Dog
It took them about thirty minutes to get to the Taylors’ farm. It was much busier than when they had left in the morning. Matt counted ten workers between the road and the farmhouse. David had come alive and was barking orders to the men. He waved to Matt and Will as they arrived and called out, “You’re late.”
“Your humble servant,” Will called back.
Thomas waved and then motioned to Jeb on the other side of the barn. “Finish up and get your brother and sister. It’s supper soon.”
Will tossed his bag in front of the house and they continued around to park alongside the back of the barn. He unhooked the horse, pulled him to the corral next to the barn, grabbed a bucket of feed mix from a bin, and put it in the horse’s trough.
Grace was in the barn, drying a horse with a cloth. Will called to her. “Hoy there, sister. It’s almost supper. What’s the delay?”
“You’re late,” she called back. “I must finish with Joshua.” There was humor in her voice.
“I’ll let Mother know,” Will replied. “Try to be prompt,” he added, obviously pleased with his ability to torment her.
Scout came bounding up to greet Will, who ran his hands up and down the dog’s fur, saying, “Good boy!” But when Matt reached down, Scout refused him with a low growl. Scout bounced along next to Will as they headed to the house and followed them up to the porch, where he waited while the men went inside. Will returned from the kitchen with a big bone for Scout and the dog trotted away happily.
“I’m his favorite,” Will said, winking.
Mary was inside cooking. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
“We’ve not eaten since church,” Will replied. “I’m starved.”
“We need two chairs from the porch,” she said.
“I can get them,” Matt replied. He made his way out to the rear porch, where extra chairs were stacked under an overhang. The grounds on this end of the house were dense with trees, but Matt could see through a clearing to another white farmhouse that joined a group of grey shacks. Smoke streamed from an open fire. Matt looked for signs of activity, but no one seemed to be around even to tend the fire. He looked again at the shacks and it occurred to him that this was probably where they housed the temporary workers. He stood enjoying the silence for a moment, then turned around, grabbed the chairs, and walked back into the house.
Thomas was there when he entered. “I’m very pleased my son convinced you to help us,” he proclaimed.
“I have time,” Matt explained. “It would be good to get in a day or two of honest work.”
“You’ll get that,” Thomas said. “We pay three shillings per day, plus boarding.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Matt replied. “I do have one request, though. I want to continue to sleep in the barn if that’s okay.”
“Guess you city boys aren’t used to sleeping in camps,” Thomas replied. “You can use the barn as long as there’s space. We may fill it.”
“The dog and I will find another place if we have to,” Matt replied.
Will was walking down the steps in more casual clothing. He had Matt’s pack in his hand. “I imagine this is yours,” he said, hefting it to him. “Do you carry bricks in there?”
“I like to be prepared,” Matt replied.
“The label says ’twas made in China,” Will said. “I’m amazed that such workmanship comes from the Orient. Seems to be neither wool nor cotton.”
“Not sure what it is,” Matt said. “Maybe a special type of heavy silk?” He really didn’t know. The cloth was some kind of high-tech nylon, thick like burlap, but light and waterproof.
Grace was coming into the house. The front of her dress was wet and she looked troubled. “Joshua is worse than yesterday,” she said. “The medicine isn’t working.”
“I have seen this corruption before,” her father replied. “It may spread to other horses. Keep him in his pen.”
“His coat is falling out in large patches. It will be a long time before he can take a saddle.”
“Give it time,” Thomas said.
“You’ve said this for weeks,” she said, her voice cracking. “It’s not getting better, but worse.”
“’Twill clear,” her father said sternly. “We’ll speak of this no further.”
Matt could see the scorn grow in the young woman’s face. Her voice quaked with rage. “I’ll not mention it, Father, but this too will not be solved by not speaking of it.”
“Enough!”
She glared at him and then walked upstairs to her room, shaking her head. Her older brother looked at Matt as if to say, “I told you so.”
Mary was beginning to set dinner out on the table. Matt arranged the chairs to match the plate settings. There were now only seven.
“Will David and Faith not join us?” Matt asked Mary.
“They’re cooking for the men. There’ll be a feast tonight to celebrate the harvest.”
“A feast?” Matt asked.
“We’re known for using our workers well,” she explained. “Men from the nearby towns seek David out during harvest time. God has blessed us this year with many who have been to past harvests.”
Grace was coming down the steps in a simple blue and white country dress with a ribbon tied around the waist and tan leather slippers. Matt was talking with Will about the next day when he look up and saw her. He had to force himself to turn back to Will, realizing that he had stopped midsentence. There was a giant grin on Will’s face. “You were asking where all the corn would be held,�
� Will reminded him.
The elder Thomas called out, “Dinnertime.” The younger boys immediately sat at the table, followed by the rest of the family. Mary put a bowl of cut carrots on the table and joined them. “Let’s pray,” she said. She glanced at Matt, thought better of it, and looked at Will. “Son, would you say the prayer?”
“Certainly, Mother.” Will began to pray, looking out over the table.
May the peace and blessing of God descend upon us
As we receive of His bounty,
And may our hearts be filled with love
For one another.
He paused for a moment as if he’d end, but then continued,
Bless, O Lord, Almighty God, this farm;
May health and purity, goodness and meekness, and every virtue reign here,
May all those who dwell here be filled with faithfulness
To Thy law, and with thanksgiving to God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
May this blessing remain on this farm and all who dwell here,
Through Christ our Lord,
Amen.
“That was beautiful,” Mary said, beaming with pride.
“Suggested by the reverend,” Will explained. “To enter the fields and plant so soon after Kathryn’s death; ’tis a testament to God’s healing power.” The table went quiet. “A time for joy!” Will exclaimed in response to their solemn stares. “I know that Kathryn is looking down upon us from heaven to aid us in our health and prosperity.”
“I agree,” his father declared. “Let us take a joyous meal in her honor!”
Plates of roasted pork with strong vinegar sauce and bowls of boiled potatoes and carrots were passed around with a comfortable enthusiasm. “What time will we rise tomorrow?” Jonathan asked as he spooned out carrots.
“Uncle will wake us at sunrise,” Thomas replied. “We’ll eat a hearty meal and then we must labor until dark.”
Jeb groaned. “Sunrise?”
“Sunrise!” his father repeated. “The Lord doesn’t provide us with these gifts that we should leave them in the field.”
Jeb groaned again.
“Tough work for a city boy,” Grace said to Matt.
“Not exactly,” Matt replied. “I had lots of manual jobs before I became an apothecary.” It was the truth. Matt’s parents were rarely around when he was a teenager, so he had occupied his time at anything that paid a wage.
“You’ll do fine, Mr. Miller,” Thomas said reassuringly. He turned to his son. “You’ll want to keep your gloves on. I can’t imagine the quill has prepared you for harvest.”
“That reminds me,” Will said. “Nathan wished you well.”
“It’s been a long time,” Thomas said. “I regret not being able to visit him more often.”
“They could make an effort to come to us,” Mary said. “I’ve invited Sara often to Sunday dinner and they’ve always had other engagements.”
“I’m in no hurry to see them,” Grace mumbled.
“I know as well as you,” Will said in response to his sister, “but Nathan’s greetings to Father were heartfelt.”
“Naught justifies the tolerance he shows for his son,” Grace said coldly.
Will turned to Matt to explain. “Grace has little admiration for Levi.” He gave a subtle wink to Matt.
“Levi is cruel to his animals and his slaves,” Grace said. “There’s no excuse for the things I have seen.”
“He cares for his property as he sees fit,” her father replied.
“A wretched man!” Grace said firmly.
“Grace!” her mother said. “’Tis not Christian to judge him so harshly.”
“Enough! ’Tis harvest time and we should celebrate,” Thomas said. “God willing, there’s much labor ahead of us.”
“Has it been a good season?” Matt asked.
“We’ll not know until we’re finished, and there’ll be much time in the Lord’s service before then,” Thomas said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the corn so tall.”
“Father loves the corn,” Jonathan proclaimed. “Sometimes he walks forever in the fields.”
“I’ve been with Father often in the corn,” Jeb added. “I have never seen him so happy as when he looks out over the cornfield. It’s his favorite thing.”
“It’s not my favorite thing,” Thomas said, “but I do enjoy watching it grow.” Matt saw his eyes grow misty. “Many people look for proof of God, but the corn reminds me of his presence, every day.”
“How?” Matt asked.
“As you sow, so shall you reap,” the father explained. “I see the enterprises of men in the corn.”
“Enterprises?” Matt asked.
“Men must all plant seeds in their lives,” Thomas said. “They are required to care for the seeds as they grow in the spring and summer months.” He smiled and exclaimed, “Ha! Even then, as the plants are grown, they aren’t finished. They must harvest in autumn or everything will be lost. Men must trust in Him that the seeds will sprout, that there’ll be enough rain, and that a hailstorm won’t smash all the plants to the ground.”
“So growing corn is like the things that men try to accomplish,” Matt said.
“Think of your experience,” Thomas continued. “Do you know men who expect riches despite the fact that they have not planted seeds?” Thomas paused, measuring his words. “I have encountered many godly men who stand above the untilled ground praying, but without the investment in the seed and the labor for planting, the corn doesn’t grow. There’s still the risk that the plants are destroyed, but you shall never learn if the seeds have not been planted.”
Thomas stopped, embarrassed. “But sometimes it’s as my son said. I enjoy watching the corn grow.”
They finished dinner and got up to clear the table. Thomas motioned to his eldest son and Matt. “Let’s bring the horses in.”
As they walked to the pasture, Will said, “We can’t forget that Old Man Hancock will be out to buy the twins tomorrow. I hope Grace can get them brushed before he arrives. I know he’ll want to show his friends.”
“Your sister never lets the horses off the farm until they shine,” Thomas said, smiling proudly.
Closer to the pasture, Will called out for Scout, who strode around the corner of the barn. Matt waved Will quiet to see if the dog might listen to him. “Scout,” he said as he pointed to the corral. “In!” To Matt’s satisfaction, the dog rushed into action, sprinting to the edge of the fence to begin moving the animals into the corral. This time they only needed to stay out of the way and watch. Scout hugged the fence, keeping the horses out of the corners, and soon had them all rounded up and in the corral. When the gate was shut, they headed back to the house.
“David will welcome the men with a prayer,” Thomas said. “We made him pledge not to serve the ale until we returned.”
“You let them drink?” Matt asked. It seemed surprising after hearing the disgust in Grace’s voice when she said the word drunkard.
“It’s not what I would choose,” Thomas confessed, “but Uncle insists that we provide the men with drink for the evening. We’ve debated this many years, but the reality is that some won’t come to stay the week without drink. Others would bring their own bottles.” He shrugged. “If we provide, they are less likely to get so drunk that they can’t wake up.”
By the time they reached the common, the sun was starting to go down and the trees threw long shadows along the path. There was a crackling fire burning in a pit next to where the food had been cooking. The night was comfortably warm, so most of the men weren’t sitting near the fire, but were eating, talking, and laughing at tables scattered here and there around the common. Matt counted sixteen men as David and Faith moved among them filling and refilling plates and cups. David saw them and called out, “Men, please welcome Mr. Thomas Taylor.”
Thomas stepped onto a crate in the center of the common. It was now dark enough that the firelight shone on his face. The workers quieted. “Men,” he
said. “Many thanks for joining us. As you know, we have a reputation for producing the finest horses in Virginia, and this would not be possible without your contributions. We’ll be paying you a fair day’s wage and feeding you like kings. Since I don’t want any of you to become fat from all these good victuals”—he grabbed his belly and the men laughed—“we’ll be working you very hard.”
Thomas smiled at the good-natured jeers this got. “There’s much ahead of us, but ’tis not all bad. We’ll divide into teams tomorrow. There’ll be a prize to any group that exceeds their standard.”
A cheer went up.
“We’ll have a prayer first and then we’ll break out the ale,” Thomas said. “Drink up, but sleep well. The prizes await.”
A cheer went up again.
David took Thomas’s place on the crate with a Bible in his hand. “Men!” he said. “You’re working for the finest Christian family in Virginia, and they expect you to act accordingly. Let us pray!”
Almighty Lord God,
You keep on giving abundance to men in the dew of heaven,
And food out of the richness of the soil.
We give thanks to Your most gracious majesty,
For the fruits of the field which we have gathered.
We beg of You, in Your mercy, to bless our harvest,
Which we have received from Your generosity.
Preserve it, and keep it from all harm.
Amen.
Thomas waved. “Drink up tonight! We begin tomorrow at sunrise.” He reached down and lifted a barrel of ale onto the table with a thump. Thomas nodded to his son and Matt. “Stay and drink. Get to know them.” He led the rest of his family back to the house as David filled tin cups with ale.
Three cups later, it was almost ten o’clock and David was breaking up the party. Matt grabbed his pack from the house and headed to the barn with a lantern. The bench he was using as a bed was set up from the previous night and his jacket was hanging from a nail on a pole next to the bed. He pulled his phone from his jacket, checked that the door was shut, and turned music on while he spread out his blankets.
As he arranged his bed, he heard Scout at the door and slid it open. The dog trotted in and jumped up, taking most of the covers. Matt reached down to grab the blanket, but Scout growled and he yanked his hand away. He pulled what remained of the blanket around his body and tried to sleep as best he could, thinking, “Damn dog.”