For the rest of the early morning hours, forsaking my Bible reading, I wrote in my journal about what I had witnessed and how I would always loathe Eugenia for hurting my Mammy, and how I could never forgive Daddy for loving such a hateful, evil woman. As evil as I may have been in their eyes and even in my own, I could never manipulate and destroy another person as Eugenia had done to my father. Daddy was no longer the man I used to worship, the man I once adored. He no longer had my heart, unconditionally, forever. My daddy was dead to me, and God forgive me once again, I wished him gone forever, that I would never lay eyes on him again.
~ ~ ~
~ Eleven ~
It was only months later that Abraham Lincoln was elected president, South Carolina seceded from the Union, and Daddy enlisted with the Confederate Army. He served as a major, and he set off only weeks before the war between North and South officially began.
It was my wish never to see Daddy again, and on the day he left Sutton Hall, I chose not to say even a hasty goodbye.
“Amelia, your father is waiting to say goodbye. He is downstairs with Perry. The least you could do is bid them farewell,” Eugenia said, and she roughly pulled me up out of the chair. “What is wrong with you, girl? You may never see him again.”
Over the months that had passed, Eugenia and Daddy had become close, like a real husband and wife, and I could do nothing but stay locked away and pretend none of the world existed outside of my bedroom.
I thrived on my Bible, the school lessons given by my private tutor, church on Sundays with Eugenia, and of course my beloved piano lessons. As many times as I could have been with Daddy, Eugenia, Hattie, or Mammy, I chose not to. Even at Christmas, I spent my holiday away from everyone. Daddy attempted to come see me once or twice, but the third time I sent him away, and he never tried again.
Eugenia was so preoccupied with the secession and impending war and fretting over Beatrice and Violet being unable to leave England anytime in the near future that she rarely checked on me. Hattie and the other slaves were more than busy tending to the plantation under the watchful eyes of Curtis P. Boyd, and no one had even a moment to try and see me. Occasionally I would wander the about the mansion late in the evening, eavesdropping on Cordelia, Abraham, and Helen and easing any slight curiosity I may have felt about recent comings and goings. My life seemed content that way. Easy and self-preserving. Staying numb to my surroundings, I missed no one in particular. The only true joy I still claimed was writing in my journal and talking to my doll, Lillian. The doll was the one who listened to my lonely words and somehow understood how lonely I truly was. When I looked into the blue glass of her eyes, I could see a part of myself in her. I may have appeared lifeless, but I believed that someday I would have a grand life of my own, far from Savannah and the isolated walls of Sutton Hall. There, perhaps, I would live on an island far away, with my true love, of course. I still had fantasies, though they were of the purest sort, never to be indulged with a man who would lead me down a sinful path. This I swore to myself.
Eugenia noticed that I was off daydreaming and shook me out of my thoughts.
“Get downstairs this instant and say good bye. Perry is leaving too. Do you think his daughters refused to say goodbye to their own father?”
When I wouldn’t budge, she proceeded to push me along until Cordelia announced that Daddy and Mr. Montgomery were needing to leave right away.
Eugenia looked at me again, seeming almost desperate for me to see my father before he went off to the pending war. I wondered why it mattered to her.
Eugenia left without another word, and I sighed with relief, telling myself it was for the best, convinced that Daddy didn’t want to see me anyway. He only had love for Eugenia now. And certainly it was for the best that I didn’t bid farewell to Perry Montgomery. After his grief subsided, I had heard that he asked about me often and wondered when I would come down to join him and the family for holiday celebrations. Still frightened by him, I managed to stay far away and was grateful that he never came up to my room.
The days following Daddy’s departure all seemed fairly quiet. I think Eugenia was expecting a big revolt, but things went on as usual. It wasn’t until April of 1861 that everything as we knew it in the entire South would change, after the attack on Fort Sumter.
“We are officially at war,” Eugenia announced to me at the supper table. I had begun to make my way downstairs for suppers regularly, as it was now quiet and somewhat peaceful, even in the company of Eugenia. Most often we discussed the Bible, and she occasionally agreed to sit and listen to me play hymns on the piano.
With Daddy gone, we strangely found ourselves looking to one another for company. Eugenia would never converse with the slaves, and Curtis P. Boyd was too busy patrolling the plantation night and day, looking to catch any slaves attempting to run away.
We had only lost two as of April, and the plantation carried on, unlike the Montgomery plantation. Most of his slaves had run away, leaving his in-laws with very little help and a plantation slowly falling apart.
The only obvious change to our place was that Eugenia had Hamilton replace Abraham.
“That man does what he’s told and says nothing,” she said one evening. “More men should be like him.”
Hamilton waited on her like Abraham waited on Daddy as his personal slave. Eugenia seemed to enjoy taking on Daddy’s duties. She held her head high and dignified, and spat out orders that had everyone jumping. Then, as time passed and we rolled into another long, hot Savannah summer, Eugenia brought Mammy into the mansion. I was initially delighted to see Mammy every day, although within a few days I realized the reasoning behind her being allowed to serve in the mansion again.
Day and night, Mammy worked. Eugenia had orders for her to strip every drape in the mansion, even in the unused rooms, and wash and iron them. After that chore was completed days later, she ordered Mammy to strip all the bedding and repair all rips, if any, then wash and iron all the bedding. And when she was finished, Eugenia ordered her to redo the bedding from Eugenia and Daddy’s, bed, not once, not twice, but three times.
“Mrs. Arrington, I done it three times; ain’t it clean enough by now?” Mammy signed, wiping her sweating brow with the back of her frail hand and falling into the nearest chair.
“You get up this instant!” Eugenia barked. “If I say they are not clean, then they are not clean! Don’t you talk back to me, girl. Your master may no longer be on these premises, and though he allowed you to back-talk him on a frequent basis, the other rules have not changed! And I suppose I must lecture you on what those rules are, since Thomas perhaps didn’t divulge all of them to you.
“You have obviously got by on simple unspeakable favors; however, they do not apply any longer. Do you understand me!” Eugenia gritted her teeth.
Mammy winced with every word, but she nodded in understanding. “Yes, Mrs. Arrington.”
“You stand and listen to me, girl.”
Mammy stood at full attention.
“You will speak only when spoken to; you will stand only when I say stand; you will sit only when I say sit. You will not eat, drink, sleep, walk, talk, or breathe without my permission. You will not leave without my say-so; you may not speak to or look at the other slaves unless I agree; you will not converse with Amelia. You will not allow your child, legitimate or otherwise, to step foot in this mansion and… if I see you touch anything without permission, break anything, or take even so much as a piece of yarn from this plantation, I will have you whipped and beaten beyond recognition!”
True to Mammy’s promise, she did everything Eugenia asked. The torment was relentless. Mammy cleaned every inch of Eugenia and Daddy’s bedroom, scrubbing the floors until her hands bled and her small knees were swollen to twice their size. Then she spent the weeks ahead scrubbing the entire mansion from top to bottom, without a word of complaint.
It was so difficult to watch, I cried myself to sleep most every night. It was unfair to have Mammy humilia
ted and tortured, just so Eugenia could have her revenge. Though Mammy took the abuse, I couldn’t bear to stand by and not say anything.
Eugenia was sitting reading a novel in the library when I came in.
“Are you going to study with me this evening?” she asked, without lifting her eyes from the page.
I took a quick gulp and spoke. My words came flooding out, without thought of any repercussions.
“Why do you need to torture Mammy so? She has done nothing to hurt you. Daddy loved her, and it’s not her fault. You don’t need to be jealous of her. Daddy is gone, and…”
Eugenia stood and slammed the book onto the side table, shaking the oil lamp to where it nearly fell.
“How dare you speak to me that way! You get to your room and stay there until I say you can come out!”
“I will not,” I said, folding my hands over my chest in defiance.
“Fine then, stand there all night. And for every minute you stand there and defy me, I will have one whip laid onto your beloved mammy’s back,” she said with a smug, self-satisfied smile.
I gasped in horror, and Eugenia smiled even wider.
“Now I suppose you will be getting to your rooms and staying there until I tell you to come out?”
I nodded and hurried upstairs while she yelled for me to get my Bible out, get on my knees, and beg to be forgiven for being such a disobedient, wicked child.
Mammy was in the hall before my doors scrubbing the floor when I came running up.
She rose and extended her arms for me to fall into.
“It’s gonna be all right, Miss Amelia. You just do as you told, and no trouble will come,” she whispered and kissed my forehead.
“Oh, Mammy, why did Daddy allow all this to happen?”
“Your daddy made some mistakes. Been blinded by the devil. Ain’t his fault. Remember that, sweet Amelia. You never stop loving him, no matter what.”
“I have stopped loving him. He has done so many wrongs.”
“Now you stop talking that way. Things will be fine, wait and see.” She opened the door for me to hurry inside.
It was just like Mammy to say and do anything to make me feel better, even lie to protect me from more sorrow.
“Will you come tuck me in?” I asked, hopeful that I could have a tender moment with her, like I used to.
“Miss Amelia, you getting too old for such things. Go on now, get in,” she said and motioned for me to go. “You sleep tight. Mammy will always love you, and your daddy loves you too.”
When I was let out, I searched for Hattie, keeping a close watch for Curtis P. Boyd, making sure I went undetected as I stole out to the slave quarters.
The day was winding down, and the slaves were preparing for their short night of rest. Little puffs of smoke came from the chimneys of the cabins; the air was redolent with the smell of food cooking. Voices were carried along with the hot, sticky breeze coming off the river. Hattie was outside on the small porch bringing in the dried sheets off the line when I approached from the side of the cabin.
“Amelia! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to see you and Jacob Thomas,” I said, hurrying inside. Cordelia, Abraham, and Helen were in the cabin. Jacob Thomas was sitting in a tin tub, getting his bath before bed. He had grown so much I almost didn’t recognize him. He had turned two already and was standing, walking, and laughing. His hair was thick and curly, the same color as Hattie’s, though his skin was much lighter, almost my color.
He giggled as Helen doused his dark curly hair with the pitcher of water.
“Say water,” she instructed the toddler.
Jacob just laughed and splashed the water, and we all laughed along with him.
“Jacob, say hello to Amelia,” Hattie said, as she knelt down next to the tub. I came beside her, took the wash cloth, and helped wash him.
Jacob looked up at me, gave a wide grin, and splashed me with water, then laughed and laughed. That baby didn’t have a care in the world. He wasn’t aware that he was the illegitimate child of a plantation master, born a slave, destined to be an outcast for the rest of his life. It was difficult enough being a slave, I knew. Being born half white was worse. He would never fit in. I sighed and tried to smile along with him, so he wouldn’t sense my fretting.
“You know Jacob Thomas unites us, don’t you?” I asked quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.
She nodded and smiled. “Makes us real family.”
“That it does,” I added. “Come walk with me.”
No one minded us heading off deep into the woods, finding our way to our favorite spot not far from the failing Montgomery plantation, sitting down on the cool forest ground to talk.
“You and Mammy won’t run away, will you?”
“Haven’t heard any talk of it from Momma. I know some are planning to run off,” Hattie confessed. “Abraham, Helen, they are all talking about it.
“And why hasn’t Mammy wanted to flee?”
Hattie didn’t answer me right away. Instead I had to prod her, insisting she tell me.
Finally, she gave me the answer. “She and Hamilton are married. Got married a few months back.”
“What!”
“And Hamilton won’t leave. He is mute, has no chance anywhere else.”
“Mammy married Hamilton?”
“At first it was because Eugenia ordered them to, believe it or not. Said Momma would be sold if she didn’t marry him. At first Momma cried and cried over it, but now, I think she has learned to love him. Says he reminds her of my real daddy a little.”
Eugenia always found a way to punish Mammy and no doubt hurt Daddy as well, when he came back and learned of the news.
“Anyway, things will be all right. Sure, the war will end soon, Master Arrington will return, and life here at Sutton Hall will go on.”
“Well, when this war is over and Daddy returns, since I am almost a fully-grown adult, I won’t be staying here. I will find a husband, run away with him, and never return. I will live happily ever after just like in the fairy tales,” I insisted.
“Now that Mr. Montgomery is gone, who will you marry?”
“I would never marry Perry Montgomery. I will marry someone just as handsome and distinguished, as wealthy and smart. However, my husband will be sent to me through the eyes of God. We will be meant for one another; it will be moral and right, and I will not die the same way my own mother did . . . as a punishment for sleeping with a married man.
“From my mouth to Gods ears,” I said always knowing he would soon send me my husband to save me - to whisk me away from the horrible plantation and make me the happiest woman to ever live.
~ ~ ~
~ Twelve ~
In the summer months, the battles of the war began. Blockades were formed and the South slowly began to feel the true extent of the war. Letters from Daddy arrived occasionally, only declaring he was well enough and hoped the war would end sometime soon so he could return to his family. Eugenia became more and more distraught as we lost slaves, just as Hattie predicted.
After church services the wives all gathered, usually at our plantation, to discuss the hardships, fears, and hopes for a speedy return of their husbands - on their own accord, of course, not stuffed in a pine box. With troubled economic times, we all prayed together, and huddled together as the news came that our men in uniform, fighting for the South, were dying. Eugenia spent little time worrying about me, and I made myself scarce by calling Hattie to come spend time with me. With the plantation being neglected after so many slaves ran, Hattie had time to swim in the river with me. We always brought Jacob Thomas along to play, too.
For a brief time, I was able to free myself of the chains that had once bound me: the worries of having Perry Montgomery chasing after me, of Eugenia accusing me of being a sinful and vile girl just like my mummy, and of Daddy scowling at me for growing up before his eyes. All of that had changed in my favor, and I sought to enjoy my newfound freedom.
We carried on for some time before Hattie became ill and had to stay back at the cabins, along with Jacob.
For the remainder of the summer, I found myself swimming alone. I would take leisurely walks through the woods to the swimming hole, hoping of course, not to be bothered again by John Mason. His father, too, had gone off to war, and John was now left to care for the plantation, along with the meager number of slaves they still owned. So I didn’t expect to see him anywhere near the swimming hole to bother me.
So self-assured was I that I skipped through the forest each afternoon, singing to myself, never once expecting to stumble upon another person; so I was stunned to find one day a Confederate soldier lying half dead in the woods.
I gasped when I saw the man there, lying face down, covered in blood. He was missing a shoe, his shirt was torn, and his grey, ill-fitting trousers were caked with mud.
I stood frozen, uncertain what to do. I didn’t know if he was dead. I didn’t want to touch him. I stayed yards away and stared, trying to see if there was any life in him, without getting too close. My heart beat like mad as I tried to decide what to do. I saw him weakly lift his head and turn to look my way. “Help me,” he groaned, straining to lift his hand. “Please!”
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 11