A Simple Singing

by Leslie Gould

  Soon the southern states seceded, one by one, and the war began. Some Plain folk had fled to Canada to protect their sons while others, such as Richert and Cecil, joined the Union Army. And then, a few months ago, Congress had passed the Federal Conscription Act for those twenty and older. However, thanks to their own representative, Thaddeus Stevens, nonresistant folks were allowed to pay three hundred dollars for someone to fight for them.

  That’s what others in their community planned to do, even though it was nearly an impossible amount of money for most. She guessed her father would come up with it for Josiah, who, at eighteen, would be of the age to serve in a couple of years. But surely the dreaded war would be over by then. Most thought it would only last three months at the beginning, and no one guessed it would go on the two years that it had, with no end in sight. She knew it would be difficult for her parents to come up with the money, but it would be impossible for Josiah to go against his beliefs and kill another human being.

  She passed the woods and stepped back onto the dusty lane, striking up a tune as she walked. She sang “Abide with Me,” a hymn Sophia had taught her when they used to sing as they did their chores. As Annie marched along, a wagon came over the crest of the hill. She shaded her eyes against the morning sun. Her heart raced. It was Samuel Yoder, the young man who had been courting her for the last few months. His family lived closer to Lancaster City, and his father was a cheese maker. Most likely Samuel was making a delivery. Annie had met him at an auction the summer before, when she’d accompanied Dat and Josiah.

  Annie waved, and after a moment Samuel realized it was her and waved back. She increased her pace, and when they met, Samuel stopped the wagon in the middle of the road.

  He would turn twenty in a few months, so he would soon need to pay the three hundred dollars too, should the country still be at war then.

  They greeted each other warmly, and then Samuel took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. Annie asked where he was headed.

  “I have a delivery at the inn out on the highway, but I had a message to deliver to Hiram Fisher first,” he answered.

  “Oh? What about?” she asked, wishing he could stop by the house and sit for a while.

  “Business.” He wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

  She couldn’t imagine what business he had with Hiram Fisher. She doubted it had anything to do with cheese. Sometimes he made deliveries for other businessmen though, so perhaps it had something to do with one of them.

  “What do you know about the Rebels coming? Josiah said Hiram told him they’re at the border.”

  Samuel nodded. “That’s right. They’ve been tearing through Maryland and are heading this way.”

  “To Lancaster?”

  He placed his hat back on his head. “No one knows for sure. Well, no one save Robert E. Lee.”

  “What do you think is going on?” she asked.

  He rubbed the side of his face and grinned. “The only thing I know for sure is that I need to be going. I’m stopping by your place—I have a newspaper for your Dat that I said I’d drop off when I was out this way. I hoped you’d have a few minutes to see me.” He tipped his hat. “Where are you headed?”

  “Over to the Fishers to see about an herb for Sophia.” Annie smiled up at him and stepped closer. Samuel was a good man, a hard worker, and a leader among the Amish community in the area. He’d never run off to war, thrusting her into the turmoil Richert had put Sophia through. Jah, Samuel Yoder was a man Annie could trust, the one she hoped to marry someday.

  He reached down and took her hand for a brief moment. Then he let go of it and tipped his hat, saying, “I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

  She smiled again at Samuel, the sun behind his head. “I look forward to that time.”

  He nodded again, a grin on his face, and then snapped the reins. She stepped back and watched as the wagon rolled down the lane. Then she hurried on toward the Fishers’ farm.

  There were so many things she appreciated about Samuel, besides his trustworthiness. Because he lived much closer to Lancaster and made deliveries to taverns, shops, and homes, he was always a wealth of information. He even delivered to Thaddeus Stevens’s tavern and sometimes ran errands for the representative. Jah, Samuel knew as much as anyone as far as what was going on in Lancaster County.

  She doubted the Fishers could tell her anything more than Samuel could. In fact, they’d probably gotten their information from him.

  No one was in the garden or the barnyard as Annie stepped onto their property.

  She slipped up the back steps and toward the closed door. Instead of knocking, she opened it as she called out, “Eva! Hallo!”

  Eva wasn’t in the kitchen, but a man was. A man she’d never seen before. A man with dark skin and wild eyes.

  She froze in the doorway and then finally found her manners. “Forgive me for barging in.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “I’m Annie Bachman.”

  The man nodded at her but didn’t say a word. He wore a raggedy shirt and torn pants, and a jagged scar ran across his face.

  “I’m a neighbor,” she explained. She’d seen freed blacks at the market in town a time or two.

  Then, just as she was about to ask where Eva was, she heard footsteps on the staircase behind her, coming from their second floor. “Annie?”

  She turned.

  Eva stood at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hello,” she said. “I just met . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Archer.” Eva’s voice sounded odd. “He’s helping Hiram, since we’re shorthanded with Richert gone.”

  Annie knew it was hard to find farmhands with so many men having left for the war.

  “How is Sophia today?” Eva quickly asked.

  “About the same, but she hasn’t been sleeping well—that’s why I’m here. Mamm hopes you have some valerian.”

  “I do,” she said. “Out in the herb garden. I’ll go out with you.”

  Eva told Archer that Hiram would be back shortly and then led the way toward the garden, stopping by the little shed for a spade.

  As they walked, Annie asked what Eva knew about the Rebels coming.

  “Oh, I don’t know much,” Eva said. “Hiram heard they were in northern Maryland, near the border.”

  Annie guessed Samuel had told him that.

  Eva stopped at her herbs and dug up a valerian plant by the root. “You can use the root today and dry the leaves for later.”

  Annie took the plant from her and asked if there were any other remedies that might help Sophia.

  “St. John’s wort,” she said. “I have some drying in the shed.”

  Annie waited as Eva returned with the herb. “Brew it into a tea, and have her drink it before bed.”

  “Any other advice?”

  Eva’s eyes watered, and she swiped at them. “Keep her comfortable. I’ll come over and check on her in a day or two.” The woman was known as a healer in their community, attending to women in labor and to the ill and injured. A doctor had seen Sophia too, but he confirmed that there was nothing to be done that would cure her.

  “Tell your Mamm and Sophia hello—and that I’ll see them soon.” Eva was usually chattier, but it seemed she wanted Annie to be on her way.

  Annie thanked Eva and headed toward the road as Hiram stuck his head out of the barn. Annie waved, and he tipped his hat. That’s when she noticed his horses harnessed and hitched to his wagon. Had he just arrived home? Or was he planning to leave?

  Three years ago, the Bachmanns feared Sophia would marry Richert and join the Mennonites. Now Richert was off fighting and Sophia was dying. Life could take all sorts of unexpected turns. None of them knew what the future held.

  As Annie hurried home, swinging the valerian in one hand and holding the St. John’s wort carefully in the other, she thought of Eva’s knowledge. If Sophia hadn’t fallen ill, Annie was sure she would have trained under Eva to become the next healer in their community. Soph
ia had always been the one to nurse whoever was ill in the family.

  When Annie arrived, Samuel had already gone on his way with his deliveries. She hurried up the back steps onto the enclosed porch. Sophia reclined on her bed, but when she heard Annie she sat up and mentioned the newspaper Samuel had left. “Would you get it and read it to me?”

  Sophia had grown paler in the last half hour, which made her eyes appear even larger than they were. Annie knew her sister worried about Richert and hoped for some news of his unit. Last they knew, he was fighting in Virginia.

  “Samuel also brought a letter,” Sophia said. “For Mamm.”

  Mamm often received letters from her mother and sister, who lived together in Chester County. Annie guessed this latest was one from them, although every once in a while George’s wife, Harriet, wrote with their news.

  Annie took the bundle of valerian and St. John’s wort into the house and left them on the table next to the newspaper and a plate of food, obviously for her. Annie ate quickly as Mamm and Dat’s voices drifted through the house. It took Annie a moment to realize they were on the front porch. Perhaps they’d gone out to speak in private when she’d come in through the back door.

  When she’d finished eating, Annie stepped to the front door. “Dat,” she said. “Sophia’s hoping that I’ll read her the newspaper. Would that be all right?”

  “Jah,” he said. “That’s fine.”

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “Go on,” Mamm said. She held a piece of paper in her hand. Most likely the letter Sophia had mentioned.

  Annie grabbed the newspaper and headed to the porch. The day was heating up, but a breeze still blew through the screened windows. The porch had, in 1752, been the original Bachmann cabin. The river rock fireplace still remained on the far side, and the walls, up to the screened windows, were logs, stacked on top of one another and chinked with mortar. They were now all whitewashed. Dat, and all the Bachmann men before him, cared for the old section of the house, preserving it, along with the land too. None of them took their home or land for granted. God had provided—and they were grateful.

  Sophia, propped up by pillows now, smiled at the sight of the paper. Annie doubted there was much news about the Union Army—if there had been, Dat probably wouldn’t have let Annie read it to Sophia.

  Annie brushed the dust from her apron and climbed up onto the end of the bed. She scooted up against the wall until her back was against it and opened up the newspaper.

  “Where shall I start?” she asked.

  “At the beginning,” Sophia answered.

  “And read the entire thing?”

  “Of course,” she answered.

  Annie dropped the newspaper in her lap. “First, tell me what you overheard Samuel say to Dat.”

  “They were only in the kitchen for a minute. And their voices were so low I couldn’t make out a thing.”

  Disappointed, Annie began reading the newspaper, starting with the first article on the front page. Union General U. S. Grant defeated Confederate General J. E. Johnston in Jackson, Mississippi.

  “That’s good,” Sophia said.

  Annie didn’t agree or disagree with her. It was good if it meant the war might end sooner rather than later, but she didn’t want to think of the lives lost because of the battle. War made no sense to her.

  She read the next article, this one about a new millinery shop that was opening in Lancaster. “All the ladies of Lancaster County will soon be visiting for a new hat that will usher them into the summer season.”

  Sophia laughed. “Did you make that up?”

  “No.” Annie pointed to the article and then teased, “Want to go?”

  “And trade in my Kapp?” Sophia patted her head. “Never.”

  Annie started the next article about the 54th Massachusetts, a regiment of black men from Boston that would soon be leaving to join the fighting. It was the first such regiment ever, and some of the men, at one time, had been slaves.

  “Oh my,” Sophia said. “Isn’t that something?”

  Annie thought of the man she’d met at the Fishers’. Had he been enslaved?

  She continued on to the next article. This one was about the 1st Pennsylvania Regiment marching northwest from Virginia.

  “Do you think Richert is still with them?” Sophia asked.

  “Most likely,” Annie answered. It had been months since Sophia or the Fishers had heard from him. And last Annie knew, Harriet’s parents hadn’t heard from Cecil either.

  Fighting, for all Plain people, went against their faith. They were all shocked when Richert and Cecil joined the Union Army, but none of them more than Sophia. Richert hadn’t uttered a word of his plan. He’d sent a letter to Sophia once he’d joined, asking her forgiveness, but she’d never fully shared it with anyone in her family, not even Annie. By then she was ill, and Sophia was certainly fighting her own battle, in a way, although she had no hope of winning without a miracle from the Lord.

  Sophia began to cough. Annie folded the newspaper and scooted off the bed. “I’ll get you more water.” She grabbed the pitcher and headed toward the springhouse. They had clean water, clean air, and good food, thankfully.

  Some families sent those with consumption off to a dryer climate. Mamm and Dat had proposed the idea to Sophia, but she refused. “What good would it do me to be away from all of you?” she asked. “I want to spend every day I have left in my home, on this farm.”

  When Annie returned with the water, Sophia had stopped coughing and had her eyes closed.

  As she looked down over her sister, she said a prayer for Sophia’s healing. Annie couldn’t bear to think of life without her sister.

  Annie headed out to the garden to weed, starting down the row of corn seedlings first. When a wagon would go by, she’d stand and shield her eyes, hoping it was Samuel returning for some reason or another. Of course it wasn’t. He’d probably reached Lancaster by now. Around midmorning, Hiram passed by in his wagon, headed toward town. The bed of the wagon was filled with hay, and no one rode with him.

  Annie weeded until dinnertime. Sophia came into the house to eat, along with Josiah. Dat told Josiah the news from the paper.

  “Of course, it’s over a week old by now,” Sophia said. “Anything could have happened.”

  “We would have heard if there had been a battle,” Dat said. “Samuel delivered cheese to Thaddeus Stevens’s tavern yesterday. He said there was no more news than in the paper.”

  “Is Stevens home?” Josiah asked.

  Dat shook his head. “No, Congress is still in session.”

  Stevens had proven, over and over, to be a good friend to the Plain folk in Lancaster County, along with the freed blacks and the slaves in the South too. The Amish and Mennonites would never forget how their ancestors were persecuted in Switzerland and Germany, and how they were welcomed in America. They felt empathy toward the enslaved and oppressed. In Leviticus, God commanded, “If a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not vex him. But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself.”

  Annie had heard those verses her whole childhood.

  “Mamm,” Sophia said. “What news did Mammi and Aenti send?”

  “The letter was from George.”

  “Oh?”

  “Jah,” Mamm said. “He asked for prayer. Harriet has been ill.”

  “Goodness,” Sophia said. “Who is caring for her?”

  Mamm pursed her lips together and then said, after hesitating, “George is doing his best.”

  Sophia let out a gasp. Annie knew if Sophia wasn’t ill, she would go to Peach Bottom and nurse Harriet.

  After Dat led the family in a closing prayer, he and Josiah headed out to the field, Sophia returned to her bed, and Annie and Mamm cleaned the dishes.

  After they finished, Annie headed out to the spring to fill the buckets to refill the stove reservoir.

  As she carried the water ba
ck to the house, Hiram Fisher turned his wagon into the Bachmanns’ driveway. Oddly, he still had his load of hay.

  “Weren’t you able to make your delivery?” Annie asked as he set the brake.

  He gave her a bewildered look.

  “The hay,” she said. “I saw you leave with it this morning.”

  “Ach,” he said. “I’m afraid there was a miscommunication. But I stopped by the tavern on the highway to check our mail, hoping for a letter from Richert.” He sighed and Annie wondered if he checked often. “We didn’t have anything, but your mother did. From her sister, I’m guessing.”

  Annie put one of the buckets down and took the letter from him, slipping it into her apron pocket. Two letters in one day was unusual.

  “Tell your parents hello.” Hiram released the brake and continued on his way.

  Annie picked up the buckets and headed through the back porch into the kitchen. The breeze had stopped and the day had grown even warmer, but it appeared that Sophia slept soundly. Once she put the buckets down in the kitchen, Annie took the letter out of her apron pocket and handed it to Mamm. “This one is from Aenti Elizabeth.”

  Mamm quickly wiped her hands on her apron and took the letter and read it while Annie refilled the reservoir.

  Mamm’s hand went to her throat.

  “What is it?” Annie asked, fearing bad news.

  “They’re finally going to move down here, to live with us.”

  Annie smiled. Mamm had been hoping for that for years. They had plenty of room in their big old house for more.

  “And soon. We can expect them by next week.” Mamm seemed filled with relief. “They’ll help me care for Sophia and run the house.” She met Annie’s eyes. “Which means you can go to Peach Bottom and nurse Harriet.”

  Annie didn’t respond. She didn’t want to leave Sophia, but it wasn’t as if Mamm could go.