by Janet Dailey
"Yes." She worried he might think she was belaboring the issue, but she couldn't turn away now. Conscious of his intimidating height and breadth, Eliza tried to remember all the things she should have said to him before. "Have you—" She stopped, the fact suddenly registering that his path led to the slaves' quarters. "Where are you going?"
"To speak to Ike and Black Cassie about this business with their children and the school."
Unwilling to make a positive interpretation of his ambiguous reply, Eliza hurriedly asserted, "I want you to understand the proposal to educate young Shadrach and Phoebe was solely my idea. The children never so much as hinted that it might be possible."
"I surmised that."
"Then . .. what have you decided?" She hadn't intended to demand an answer, but she sensed that he was deliberately withholding it and that irritated her. "If I am to be teaching them, I need to know."
"I question how much you will be able to teach them. They are Negroes."
"How can you say such a thing? They are human beings," Eliza protested, immediately inflamed by such a biased attitude. "They have feelings and desires that go beyond mere creature needs of food and water and a dry place to sleep. Like all of us, they need affection and the stimulus of challenge in order to grow and achieve their potential. Such expressions of ignorance I would expect to hear from a white Southerner, but for it to come from the lips of a Cherokee is beyond my comprehension. I—"
"Miss Hall." He spoke sharply, halting her tirade. "I was about to say that my wife feels it will do no harm for you to try to teach them—providing"—he added forcefully at her murmur of delight—"they continue to do the work expected of them."
Eliza was too relieved and elated by his favorable decision to regard that as a problem. "You are going now to tell them. May I come with you?" She wanted to see their faces when they learned they would be attending school instead of listening outside its windows.
He hesitated a moment, then agreed. "Very well."
"Thank you," Eliza declared fervently, again filled with the strong sense of mission that had brought her to Gordon Glen.
Phoebe sat on the cabin's stoop, her arms tightly wrapped around her legs and her chin buried in the crevice between her knees. She was miserable. She'd been miserable scared all day, certain each time she saw Miss Victoria that she would be punished for listening outside the school window.
Shadrach wandered over and scuffed his bare feet in the dirt. He flung himself onto the bottom step, then lay back and stared up at the night sky with its glitter of stars. When he clasped his hands together on his rib-thin stomach, Phoebe thought he was fixing to pray.
"Where you reckon them animals be?"
"What animals?" Phoebe frowned.
"I heard Miz Eliza say they be animals in them stars. I been lookin' an' lookin', but I ain't seen none." He frowned in puzzlement.
"You bes' not be lettin' Mama hear you say that name," Phoebe warned and hugged herself into a tighter ball, rocking slightly in an effort to ease her misery. Inside the cabin, she could hear their mama talking worriedly to their pa.
"Bad's gwine t' come from this, Ike. I knows it. I feels it in my bones." Black Cassie shook her head.
She had been shaking her head ever since Ike had walked in the door and she had told him what happened. "You don't know that for certain sure," Ike said again.
"They's gwine to think we's bad blacks. No tellin' what Master Will gwine t' do when she tell him. An' that teacher gwine to tell him."
Ike nodded. Black Cassie worked in the big house. She knew more about what went on there than he did, working all day like he did in the smithy. "Master Will, he be a good man."
"He ain't gwine t' keep no bad blacks," she insisted. "What we gwine to do if'n he send Phoebe and Shadrach to the fields? Li'l Shad, he ain't gots the strength fo' that."
"I knows." Ike looked at his forearms bulging with hard muscles, just like the rest of him. He had never understood how a seed from his loins could have made such a spindly boy. But Shadrach was smart. Curious about everything. It didn't surprise Ike one bit that he had been sneaking around that school.
"Ike." Black Cassie turned to face him, her eyes big and wet with fear. "What we gwine t' do if'n Master Will sells them babies of ours down the river t' work on one o' them sugar plantations?"
All along he had known that was the fear behind all this fretting of hers. It had been years since she had talked about the other children she had borne. Her previous master had sold them, same as he had sold her to Master Will. She had been grieving for them when Ike met her. And he had wanted to give her more babies so she would stop crying about the ones she'd lost. Now here she was, fixing to cry about theirs.
"That ain't gwine t' happen." Reaching out, he caught her hand and slowly drew her around the table to stand beside him. He wrapped a powerfully muscled arm around her broad hips and pulled her to him. "That ain't gwine t' happen," he repeated, but he knew deep down inside that for all his strength, he would be powerless to stop it.
Farther up the row of cabins, a dog started barking. Phoebe paid no mind to its racket until the bark changed to a sharp yelp of pain. She peered down the row, suddenly conscious of the stillness that had fallen over the quarters. There wasn't even the tin clatter of dishes being cleaned after the evening meal. All along the stoops, other blacks stood silently, looking up the path to the big house.
"Someone be comin', I think," she said. Then, through the dull glow from the cookfires, Phoebe spied the master of the plantation coming toward their cabin. Sick with fear, she scrambled to her feet and ran to the door. "It's Master Will an' he be comin' here."
"I tole you." Black Cassie hurried to the doorway. "I tole you, Ike," she said again when he joined her. She stepped outside and caught Phoebe by the shoulders, pulling her close. "You's gwine t' git the whip taken after you fo' sure." Her mother spoke in a scolding fashion, but Phoebe felt the trembling of fear in her mama's hands and knew she was scared for them, as scared as Phoebe was.
"It be okay." Shadrach turned a beaming look at them. "Miz Eliza be wid him."
Eliza walked with Will Gordon down the row of slave cabins, smiling and nodding to the families of blacks gathered outside their crude hovels. Except for a rare "Evenin', Master Will," most were silent, responding with wary stares and closed-up expressions. She felt like an intruder, unwelcome and unwanted in their midst. Instinctively, she edged closer to Will Gordon.
The air was scented with the wood smoke from their cook-fires. Most were banked for the evening, but the dying glow was reflected in the watchful eyes of the blacks.
As they approached the last cabin, Eliza saw young Shadrach obey the gesturing admonitions of his mother and climb the steps to stand beside his sister. He showed no fear.
"Evenin', Master Will." The deep-voiced greeting came from Ike, standing next to Cassie. Eliza was somewhat shocked to see he was without a shirt. One suspender diagonally crossed a gleaming black chest, a chest with the muscles of Samson. Eliza quickly averted her gaze, embarrassed by his nakedness.
"Ike, Black Cassie." Will Gordon stopped well short of the steps. "I have come about your children, Phoebe and young Shadrach. They were outside of school this morning, listening to the lessons. I understand this is not the first time."
"Ain't never gwine t' happen again, Master Will," Black Cassie declared. "I swears they won't go near that school again. Me an' Ike, we talked to them good and tole 'em they be bad. They be sorry fo' it. They truly be. Me an' Ike's told them if they ever catched near that school again, we's gwine t' whip 'em ourself."
"Miss Hall wants them to come to school and learn to read and write and do their numbers. She believes she can teach them." Will Gordon slid a brief, skeptical glance in Eliza's direction. Eliza was too busy watching the faces of her new pupils to notice. Shadrach opened his mouth in wonder, his dark eyes fairly dancing with excitement, but Phoebe just stared, as if unwilling to believe him.
"Hear that
?" Shadrach turned excitedly to his sister, but Black Cassie quickly shushed him.
"Tomorrow morning Phoebe and Shadrach are to report to Miss Hall at the school to begin their lessons."
"They be there, Master Will," Ike promised solemnly, earning a sharp glare from his wife.
"I want it understood, however," Will Gordon warned, "Miss Victoria will expect them to do their work the same as before."
Heads bobbed in assent to his condition, all except Black Cassie's. She alone showed no liking for the turn of events. Eliza wondered at that. As a mother, she should have been pleased that her children were to be educated. Shadrach and Phoebe were certainly happy about it, and that was all that mattered to Eliza as she left the cabin with Will Gordon.
"We gwine t' learn 'bout readin' an' writin', Shad." Phoebe was still afraid to believe it. At the same time, she could hardly wait to tell Deuteronomy Jones. Why, in no time at all she'd be smart just like him.
"I knows. Ain't it the mos' wonderful thing." Happiness fairly burst from him.
Mindless of their joy, Cassie turned on Ike. "Why'd you say they could go? Ain't no good gwine t' come from it. All that larnin' jus' gwine t' fill their heads wid foolish thoughts about bein' free. They be slaves. Ain't no place in this world fo' a black wid book-larnin'."
"Mebbe the world'll change, Cassie."
"Nothin' never gwine t' be no different. I wishes that Eliza woman never come here. She jus' bring misery on us and we gots enough o' that."
When Ike tried to put his arm around her, Cassie pulled away and stalked into the cabin. Ike stared after her, understanding the fear that gripped her but not agreeing with her. Master Will was a smart man, a good man, and Ike had heard him say more than once that the Cherokees needed to know the white man's books and laws if they were to stay free. Ike didn't know much beyond sharpening a plowshare, fixing a wheel, and shoeing a horse, but it made sense to him that if a white man's learning was good for the Cherokees, it would be good for blacks. Rising up against the master never got any slave his freedom. Maybe the Cherokee way was the right one.
When Eliza arrived at the schoolhouse the next morning, her two new pupils were outside waiting for her. Shy yet eager, they followed her inside and wandered about the single room, looking at everything while touching nothing. She let them explore on their own until she saw Shadrach intently studying the globe atop its pedestal in the corner.
"That is a globe of the world, Shadrach," she explained. "And this is approximately where Gordon Glen is located." She pointed it out to him, then gave the globe a half turn. "And this is Africa, where you came from."
A bewildered frown creased his forehead. "How could that be? I be born right here on this plantation. I wasn't borned in no Africa."
"Perhaps not, but your parents or grandparents were brought here as slaves from Africa."
"How does you know that?"
"Because all the black people originally came here from Africa. In Africa, all the aborigines have black skin, like you."
"What's a aborigeez?"
"A native. Someone who lived in a land before the white men came ... Like the Cherokees are natives of these mountains."
Kipp burst into the school and came to an abrupt stop when he saw Phoebe and Shadrach. "What are they doing here?" He scowled.
"Phoebe and Shadrach are my new pupils. They will be attending school with you from now on," Eliza explained, smiling at her new charges.
"Slaves don't belong here." He glared at them, haughty in his disdain. "They are too stupid to learn anything."
"That is how the Georgia Guard feels about the Cherokees," Eliza replied.
Saying nothing, Kipp included her in his baleful look. Eliza hadn't anticipated hostility from her other pupils. But there was little time to dwell on it as the rest of her students filed in to begin the morning session.
Thankfully as far as Eliza was concerned, none openly expressed Kipp's animus toward the two black children. In fact, the younger children, nine-year-old Joe Murphy and seven-year-old Xandra, seemed unconcerned by them. The rest, including Temple, were reserved and silent, but the opposition was there.
Eliza began the morning session with a prayer, reminding her students of the Golden Rule and hoping that God would bring harmony back to her school. But no such miracle occurred. Later, when she divided her class according to the Lancastrian method and began assigning monitors, Kipp stood up.
"I will not be a monitor to those servants," he stated.
The silence in the room was crushing. Eliza sensed that all were waiting to see how she dealt with this challenge to her authority. "I have no intention of assigning you to be their monitor, Kipp. For that I will require someone who is intelligent. Perhaps someday that will be you, but not at the present."
An embarrassed rage mottled his face, and Eliza knew she had stung his vanity. Kipp believed he was the smartest. In truth, Eliza suspected that he was, but he already had too high an opinion of himself and deserved to be taken down a peg or two.
"That is not true."
"Do not embarrass yourself further by displaying your ignorance before everyone, Kipp. Please sit down." She carefully hid a smile when someone snickered.
Kipp scoured the room with a glowering look, seeking the child who had dared to laugh at him, but too many faces held suppressed smiles. Sullenly, he took his seat.
The following Sunday, the family attended the religious service held at the nearby Moravian church. Although a Presbyterian, Eliza had made it a practice to accompany the Gordons to their church.
When the services were over, the congregation gathered outside to socialize and exchange news. As usual, most conversations centered on recent harassments by the Georgia militia and rumors of proposed action to be taken. As a member of the National Council, Will Gordon was always at the center of these discussions. Everyone looked to him for answers.
Temple listened as her father explained to others that the Baltimore lawyer William Wirt had offered his services to Chief John Ross to represent the Cherokee Nation before the Supreme Court of the United States.
When the congregation broke up to return to their respective homes, Temple walked with her father to their carriage. "What do you know of this William Wirt?" she inquired. "Is he the caliber of a Philadelphia lawyer?"
"Jeremiah Evarts of the American Board of Foreign Missions recommended him highly. Mr. Wirt held the post of attorney general of the United States for twelve years. Payton Fletcher has advised me that Wirt is considered to be a strict constitutionalist and Jackson has no use for that sort."
"I see." But Temple wasn't altogether sure she understood the significance of that. "When will Mr. Wirt go before the Supreme Court on behalf of the Cherokees?"
"When he finds a test case to bring before them. That shouldn't be difficult. Georgia has arrested many Cherokees for digging gold in our mountains. If any are jailed by the Georgia courts, Mr. Wirt can bring a claim of false imprisonment before the Supreme Court bench on the grounds that Georgia has no jurisdiction over our lands."
"But what does that solve?" Temple frowned.
"The issue of ownership. Georgia claims the land belongs to them. We say it is ours. If the Court rules against the State of Georgia, they are verifying the land belongs to us."
"And if Georgia doesn't own it, they cannot force us to leave."
"No."
She paused by the carriage's raised step and tilted her head back to view him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. "Then we have nothing to worry about, do we? This land was given to us by treaty, and the Supreme Court will have to rule in our favor."
"That is what we believe," Will said, then turned as Victoria approached, carrying their youngest.
Temple was relieved. The Blade was not as confident as her father that the Cherokees would be fairly treated, and his doubts frightened her. She watched as her father helped her mother and then Miss Hall into the carriage. She took a seat opposite Victoria, who, after settling the
baby on her lap, directed a wan smile at Eliza.
"How are the children progressing in school, Miss Hall?"
"Quite well, Mrs. Gordon."
"And your new pupils, Shadrach and Phoebe?"
"Extremely well," Eliza asserted, feeling defensive. "Shadrach has shown a particular aptitude for learning."
"Then you have had no difficulties with them?" Victoria said with mild surprise.
"None." But Temple saw Eliza glance toward Kipp.
Although her brother hadn't repeated his objection to the presence of Phoebe and Shadrach in the classroom, he had expressed his hostility toward them in other ways, taking malicious delight in any mistake they made and seeking every opportunity to torment them unmercifully outside of school. At times his abuse had bordered on cruelty. Yet Eliza did not bring his behavior to her employer's attention. The tutor's discretion pleased Temple. She hoped the Supreme Court judges would hold as wise a counsel as Miss Elizabeth Hall.
8
"You are a poor correspondent." Eliza turned a look of mild reproval on her unexpected visitor, the gangly minister Nathan Cole, who had accompanied her on her journey to this mountain frontier. "It has been weeks since your last letter."
In truth, Eliza had received one brief letter from him in answer to her rather lengthy epistle describing her new home at Gordon Glen. When her second letter met with no reply, she had refrained from writing a third.
"I apologize for that. I was away preaching in the mountains. When I learned I would soon be traveling this way..." He paused self-consciously. "I confess, I am a poor man with a pen. When I read your letters, it is as though you are in the room talking to me. Mine, I fear, are cold and stilted."
Eliza couldn't agree with him more, but she was too happy to see him to criticize. "Whatever your reason, I forgive you. You are here now and that is enough."
"I couldn't pass this way without calling to see how you were faring." He walked beside her, looking gawky and awkward, all arms and legs. Everything about him was exactly as Eliza remembered, from his thin face and straw-colored hair to his soulfully kind eyes. She found it difficult to believe that nearly three months had passed since last she had seen the young minister. Yet September was upon them, bringing milder days to Gordon Glen and ending summer's reign of heat. Eliza was grateful for that, and for the chance to have someone with whom she could talk freely.