“Now step aside and let us in so we can look for ourselves.”
Eugenia followed his orders and allowed the men in. I stayed in the foyer with Mammy, hoping they would expedite their search and leave.
“Corporal, you take the upstairs. I’ll look down here. Sergeant Barrows, stay on the gallery. Make certain no one leaves.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eugenia was practically hyperventilating. “Get me a cup of tea, Abigail,” she commanded.
Mammy went off to the kitchen with the colonel on her trail.
“Can it be true what they’re saying?” Eugenia asked me.
“I believe so.” I replied.
She looked down at me in disbelief. “You mean to tell me you knew all along he was a deserter?”
“Not exactly. Before he left, his memory had returned.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“Tell you about what?” Colonel Smith asked as he came back from the kitchen with Mammy.
His eyes darted from mine to Eugenia’s, and he called for his soldiers.
“Well, is he here?”
“No, sir. No sign of him,” Corporal Byron answered.
“I see. Hummm,” he said while scratching his chin with the tips of his fingers. “I believe we have reason to call you all liars. And in that case, we ain’t leaving this plantation until he returns.”
“You can’t do this!” Eugenia cried.
“Oh, can’t I?” He sneered and moved in to lock eyes with her. “Rumor has it that that pretty little thing is his bride-to-be, that she is carrying his child. So the way I see it, Mrs. Arrington, is that Colonel Stone will be coming back to claim her, and when he does, we will be here to take him in.”
The colonel turned to me. “You must be Amelia. Sure are a pretty thing. Can’t believe he’s stayed away so long.”
“She is not carrying his child. Yes, they had planned to marry, but since she tragically miscarried the baby, he ran off,” Eugenia quickly divulged, certainly not mentioning that it was my half-brother’s child she believed I miscarried and not Warren‘s.
“Oh…I see,” he said, closely looking me over. I felt my face flush, and I tried to suck in my belly so it would not to be any too obvious.
“She lost the baby, did she?”
“Months ago. That’s when Warren took off. She was no good to him since she couldn’t carry his child. No woman would be!”
Without warning, the man took hold of me and pressed his hands on my stomach. I gasped and flew back into the corporal’s arms. I fought him and screamed as he forcefully ripped off the buttons from my dress.
Eugenia demanded that they stop. “Take your hands off her this instant!” she ordered and pushed the colonel aside to get to me. Then she stopped and sucked in her breath.
“She ain’t carrying Warren’s baby?” he hissed pointing to my exposed, very pregnant abdomen. “No one leaves Sutton Hall until Colonel Warren Stone returns,” Colonel Smith hollered for all to hear. “He will come for her, and we will be here waiting. No matter how long it takes!”
~ ~ ~
~ Thirty-three ~
As expected, Eugenia blamed me for all the suffering we all had to endure. Though she could no longer lash out at me as she was forced to control her rage in the presence of the three uninvited soldiers, she did manage to throw me icy stares when we were in the same room together. Her face was stone cold and covered with a hate for me that would never fade.
I believed everyone in the mansion hated me. I was responsible for death and destruction, for invasion and loss, which could only be explained by the evil I carried. Eugenia never failed to remind me during the holdout for Warren Stone’s return.
“You are the devil in disguise,” she would mumble when she passed me in the halls.
We carried on our affairs as normally as possible, yet it was difficult to ignore the men’s presence. Their eyes followed us everywhere, and they knew where any one of us was at any given time.
Colonel Smith gave them strict orders not to allow us to leave the plantation for any reason, and if we did need to venture outside, we were to be followed. The soldiers especially didn’t trust Hamilton and the other workers. His eyes narrowed onto them and he held his musket close when they were near.
“Ain’t no slave driver to keep their Negroes in control,” I heard him tell the younger soldier named Phineas Barrows.
Phineas was the quietest of the three men; he only spoke when spoken to. Sergeant Byron didn’t like Phineas at all and bullied and taunted him when the colonel was elsewhere in the mansion.
“I see you eyeing that pretty thing, Phineas. Too bad you’ll never be good enough for the likes of her,” I heard him say. “That kind only goes after men with class. And you ain’t got none of that.”
The sergeant laughed to himself and leaned against the front door. I was cleaning up after breakfast, trying not to pay them any mind. They frightened me. It was all I could do to sleep at night, thinking one would come in and have his way with me. Sometimes I would hear the floorboards creaking from footsteps outside my room, and then they would suddenly stop before my door. I trembled while praying that they would leave me alone. I had suffered enough, I explained to God. I prayed not to be violated again.
Fortunately, none of the men found it necessary to prey on me, but to my dismay, they taunted and harassed Hattie, forcing her to become their personal slave.
“Come here girl and polish my shoes,” Sergeant Byron ordered.
“Fetch me some fresh milk, girl,” Colonel Smith barked.
Hattie was flustered, and it pained me to see them abusing her so. When I finally found the courage to stand up to them, I was immediately struck across the face and told to shut up and mind my own business. I fell to the ground and clutched my battered face as Hattie ran to help me up.
“Ain’t no need to hit her,” Phineas said.
“No girl is gonna speak to me that way!”
“ Ain’t no need to hit her,” he repeated.
“Mind your business, Phineas,” he said sharply.
Phineas leaned down to help me, but Sergeant Byron wasn’t going to allow him to show me any compassion. He took hold of Phineas’ arm and pushed him away. I scooted away from the fight, and then stood with Hattie’s assistance.
“Don’t you put your hands on me, Byron!” Phineas ordered.
“Don’t you back talk to me,” Sergeant Byron flared and put his fists up, “or I’ll sock you one straight in the jaw.”
“I dare you!”
“You dare me, do you? All right then, you asked for it.” He laid a punch straight into Phineas’ face. Phineas wasn’t going to back down from the fight. He immediately swung back at the sergeant but he missed, and Sergeant Byron began to laugh.
“Quit your laughing!” Phineas shouted as he dabbed the blood from the corner of his lip.
“What is all this commotion about?” Colonel Smith barked.
“That Negro girl wasn’t obeying me!” Sergeant Byron lied. “And Barrows here was sticking up for her.”
“Is that so, Corporal?”
“No, sir. It ain’t so,” he replied, standing at full attention.
The colonel turned and pointed to Hattie and asked, “Were you disrespecting my men?”
“No, sir,” she said in a quivering voice.
He stared at her for a moment, unconvinced. I reached for Hattie’s hand and squeezed it tightly, just like years before when we were in school and Mr. Giles was about to lash out at her. We both sensed the jeopardy Hattie was in.
“Byron, take her outside and show her and all these folks what will happen if they disobey an officer of the Confederate Army.”
“NO!” I screamed as they dragged Hattie away. “LEAVE HER ALONE!”
The colonel strode behind them while Phineas was ordered to hold me back.
“I’m just doing what I am told,” he said solemnly. “Just stay still, Miss Arrington. For your own good.”
Phineas allowed me to cover my ears and bury my face in his chest as the whipping went on.
“The Arrington’s will no longer refuse to comply with the rules, for if you do, each one of you will endure the same punishment!” Colonel Smith announced for all to hear, then struck another blow with the whip to Hattie’s back. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and then she went silent.
“Untie her,” Colonel Smith ordered.
Phineas released his hold on me and I ran outside. Mammy cradled Hattie, while Eugenia rushed out with a blanket to shield Hattie from more humiliation.
“Remember what I said. Any one of you will be punished. Even the pregnant girl is not safe from a whipping!”
Day after day we were prisoners in our own home, waiting for Warren to appear so we could regain our freedom, whatever was left of it. The soldiers spoke of the Union’s victories and their steadfast pace toward controlling the South.
“We will fight to the end,” Sergeant Byron stated during a meal.
In the distance we often heard the battles and scuffles between the two armies. Our soldiers stayed concealed at the windows under the drapes each night, muskets in hand, prepared to capture Warren and take him off to prison or to counter any attack. They took turns resting, sleeping only an hour at a time. After nearly two weeks of this, they began to feel the effects of sleep deprivation and became quite irritable.
Hattie recovered from her beating enough to return to waiting on them. She surrendered all of her dignity, just to appease them. She worked from sunup to sundown. The colonel refused Mammy’s repeated requests to relieve Hattie of her duties and have her tend to their needs.
“For now I want the pretty Negro to wash my clothes and polish my shoes.”
“I can help,” I chimed in.
“You need to stay good and healthy for now. Warren’s expecting to see you carrying his baby. That’s what he’s returning for. You stay seated. Hattie girl can take care of us just fine.”
The abuse and humiliation we all endured was endless.
“You’re one of our own. Why don’t you treat us with some respect?” she cried.
“Harboring a deserter don’t make you one of us!” Sergeant Byron barked.
The men went through all Eugenia’s belongings and stashed what they believed to be valuable away.
“When Thomas hears of this, heads will roll,” she sobbed as they took away her possessions.
“Tell us where Warren Stone is, and you may have your valuables back,” Colonel Smith replied.
“If I knew, believe me, I would tell you!”
“No, Mrs. Arrington. I don’t believe you. Now be quiet and keep yourself away. The pitch of your voice gives me a headache.”
That evening there was a massive storm brewing. The winds were violent, thunder clouds rolled in and bolts of lightning struck the ground all around the plantation.
“Get those shutters closed up!” Colonel Smith told Hamilton. “You two help him,” he said to his men.
“Right away, Colonel.”
The skies turned black, and I ran about lighting the lamps, with Hattie’s help.
“I will light the upstairs lamps,” I said.
The second floor windows hadn’t been closed up. The rain had already flooded the floors to the rooms. Some of the windows were swollen from the moisture and I couldn’t pull them down. Outside, Hamilton hurried with the ladder and Sergeant Byron climbed up, holding on tight, trying not to be blown off by the powerful gusts.
“I can’t get this one closed,” I shouted over the wind, as the rain struck my face.
“I will close the shutters over it.”
I stepped back and watched as he managed one side, then slammed the other closed. The room became pitch black and I waited for my eyes to adjust. It was then that I was grabbed from behind. I screamed, but the thunder muffled my sound.
“Calm down, Amelia. It’s only me.”
“Warren!”
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, pressing his finger against my lips to keep me quiet.
I quickly became enraged. “Do you realize what you’ve put us through?”
“Please be quiet. Come with me,” he insisted, and he took hold of my hand.
I snatched it away. “I won’t go anywhere with you! They are here to take you to prison!”
“I know,” he replied flatly. “Is that what you want? Do you want to see me hanged? You loathe me that much?”
I sighed heavily and blinked my eyes to get a better look at him.
“No, Warren. I don’t loathe you enough to see you hanged.”
“Then come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? You and I can get away. I have connections. I can get us up north. I came back for you. In fact, I never left.”
“What!”
“Please keep your voice down. I stayed hidden at the Montgomery plantation all these months.”
“It was you there the night Hattie and I went to the mansion. The night Jacob Thomas drowned.”
“I’m sorry for his dying. So many terrible things have happened here at Sutton Hall, with the exception of my falling in love with you and creating a child with you. I love you so much, Amelia. I couldn’t find a way to leave you.” He began to kiss me. I pushed him away, sickened by his affection.
“You’re carrying my child. Do you expect me to ignore that? That baby is just as much a piece of me as it is you.”
“Stop it, Warren. I want nothing to do with you. You are a monster,” I cried and ran for the door, screaming for help.
“Amelia, no!”
“Colonel Smith, Sergeant Byron. Warren is here!”
Warren bolted past me and down the hall to the flight of stairs and out the door.
Colonel Smith came bursting into the room.
“He just ran out.”
“Who?”
“Warren Stone, for God’s sake!”
The colonel took off after Warren, out into the storm, calling for his men. “After him!”
I began to shake in fear. A part of me was relieved that Warren had come forth and would be captured. For everything he had done to me, I wanted justice. Nevertheless, it wasn’t easy watching him being dragged by the back of his collar, covered in mud mixed with his own blood. His eyes were already beginning to turn black and blue, his lip was bleeding and the sides of his face were swollen. He was so beaten he didn’t even resemble his former self.
Sergeant Byron tossed Warren on the floor of the foyer and kicked him repeatedly in the stomach, until Phineas restrained the sergeant from beating him to death.
“Let him face the judge. It’s his right.”
“He don’t deserve no rights. Deserters shouldn’t have no rights,” Sergeant Byron huffed and spat on Warren.
The men looked up at me and Sergeant Byron said, “Have Hattie girl clean him up. We will be leaving first light of day to take him to prison. No less than a week, I’m sure, he’ll be tried, convicted, and hanged.”
~ ~ ~
~ Thirty-four ~
It was all I could do not to be ridden with guilt as I watched Hattie all night tending to Warren. He moaned in pain and winced every time Hattie dabbed the soaked cloth against his face to clean the dried blood away. Mammy came and checked in on him, declaring he most likely had least a few broken ribs.
“Wrap him up as best you can,” she said to Hattie. “Hamilton will cut up some bed sheets and bring them up.”
Through the narrow slits of his eyes, Warren continuously stared at me. Hattie gave me a look indicating that I should come and help tend to him - because he wanted me to. As
soon as she handed me the cloth, I burst into tears.
“I’m sorry, Warren,” I sobbed and began working on his wounds. “I should have just run off with you. I don’t want to see you hanged.”
The cheery laughter and cigar smoke from downstairs traveled to the second floor. The soldiers were celebrating their capture, while Warren’s limp hand lay in mine as he silently cried himself to sleep.
I stayed with him all through the long, stormy night, only dozing for a moment or two in the chair as I sat beside him. By the light of the new morning the rains were heavy, and Colonel Smith announced that they would have to wait to travel into Savannah with their prisoner. “The roads are flooded and impassable. We will have to wait until tomorrow.”
In the light of day, Warren looked worse. Eugenia had come in before dawn to give him some sleeping powders - the kind Warren used to rape me, just so he could sleep comfortably. My hands trembled as I lifted the drink laced with the medication to his lips. Memories of confused nights being ravaged by Warren came rushing back to me. He saw the anguish that remained with me and mumbled, “I’m sorry,” just before he dozed off. Warren was constantly apologizing to me, yet I couldn’t accept his excuses, his reasons for taking me the way he did.
“I don’t know what came over me. You believe me don’t, you? I am only a man, a simple man who gave into incredible temptation. But if I had to do it all over again, I swear I wouldn’t take advantage of you the way I did. I would be an honorable man, one you would admire and want to be with. The kind of man Patrick Arrington is.”
The hours crept by ever so slowly. Minutes went by like days. The rain was relentless and added inches more water to the already saturated ground. The men were becoming restless as one day dragged into another and the rain would not end.
During the days they stared out the windows in disbelief that they couldn’t carry out their quest, and at night, they drank their frustration away with Daddy’s fine wine collection and high-priced cigars. They managed to make their way to the cellar and clear out most of the bottles.
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 27