by Lane, Cheryl
Finally, I read a letter from Ethan, dated early 1865:
“My darling Maddie: Things don’t look too good for us right now. I don’t know if the South will win this thing or not. We’re giving it our best. If I ever make it out of here alive, I want to marry you as soon as possible. I wish now that I had married you when I came to see you last summer. I miss you so much, it’s painful – more painful than these battered shoes with holes that allow rocks to jostle around inside. Will you continue to wait for me? I love you forever. Yours, Ethan.”
“Ethan, this helps me so much! I remember reading that last one. I actually do!” I had tears rolling down my cheeks, remembering the things that happened in these letters. He gently wiped the tears away and kissed both my cheeks and then my mouth. I sighed with pleasure.
“What do you remember?” he asked quietly, his arm lingering on my back.
“Everything,” I said. I closed my eyes again, and memories came in like a flood. I described to him that during the war, I used to get a big bunch of letters all at one time, and then nothing for six months or more. I read some of those letters down by the river at my home, Magnolia Grove. I read the last letter while staying at Edgewood House, where Clarissa and I had moved towards the end of the war. Ethan had snuck onto my plantation while he was on furlough, and convinced us to go over there to get away from the Yankees. Edgewood was a Gothic style house on the outside, but Southern design on the inside with the most beautiful open staircase that wound up to the third floor. We fed both Yankees and Confederates corn cakes and coffee over there, staying with the caretaker, Mr. Rowland and his daughter, Lizzie, a shy young lady who waited for her beau to return from the war, like we all did. I just remembered…hers didn’t come back. We also had church services there during the war since Westover Church was used as stables by the troops.
I frowned, remembering those hard times of war. Father had gone off to war and came back in a pine box. Mother died of pneumonia after months and months of lying in bed, pale and lifeless, coughing up blood, while soldiers from both sides came and went from our home. They’d come in and taken a lot of our furniture for firewood and lamp oil since it was scarce. One particular Yankee slit my wrist when I refused to have relations with him. He left me alone when I poked him in the eye with a fireplace poker. Clarissa and Fanny came over as soon as they heard my mother had passed, so that I wouldn’t be alone with the Yankees.
Dozens and dozens of wounded Yankee soldiers were brought on the lawn of my home, and Doc Parsons came to help in their care, awaiting Union ships to take them away to a real hospital. Clarissa had already taken good care of Union soldiers and Confederate prisoners while at Wellington, and General McClellan was thankful and agreed to give her a Safeguard to travel over to Magnolia Grove, so that both plantations would not be harmed. It was put in writing, and also two Union soldiers were posted at the gates of Magnolia Grove when she arrived, stating that we wouldn’t be harmed. However, they didn’t stop us when we escaped to Edgewood with Ethan.
Finally, I remembered Fanny. She and I became good friends during the war, cleaning bloody wounds, watching soldiers die. Blood and stench. Running out of bandages for the wounded, having to tear up our dresses and even our underwear to use. That’s why I had no underwear. She, however, would not help me bury my mother. I was advised to bury her at night because Union ships patrolling the James River would fire on any suspicious activity at the plantation. Fanny was too superstitious to venture into the graveyard after dark, so Clarissa and I carried her all the way to the family graveyard, which was a quarter of a mile from the manor, close to the woods. We even had to dig her grave by ourselves. Jake and Zeke wouldn’t help either. It was hard, dirty work, and took most of the night.
Tears poured down my face again. I felt Ethan’s arms go around mine then, and I cried softly into his chest, telling him my memories of death and pain and war, and burying my mother. I cried so much, like I’d never really cried over the war at all.
After a few moments, I dried my eyes, and Ethan released me. I looked into his sweet face, and then I had more memories of us while courting. Swimming in the river in our underwear in the summer till our skin pruned. Dancing with him at Hannah’s home at a big party when we’d turned 16. Our first kiss at Magnolia. Ethan sneaking up to my plantation by rowboat at twilight, stealing more kisses by the river in the moonlight. Trying to find a girl for Jonas so he would let us be alone. Getting one of mother’s slaves to bring me by carriage to Ethan’s home so I could milk his cows and brush his horses, just to be close to him.
“I remember more our courtship, Ethan. Dashing young Ethan, always trying to get my attention. You used to come over to my house on those wild bucks and show off how good you could ride them. Do you remember that?”
“Yes. I also remember you coming over here and cleaning up the horse stalls, milking the cows, anything you could think of, just to see me. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, I do,” I said excitedly.
I picked up his hands and held them tightly, remembering the joy I had when he came home from the war on furlough to propose to me, how grown-up he looked, seeing him with a full beard for the first time. Then remembering him coming home when the war was over and we could finally have our wedding. I remembered our life as a newly married couple, all the happiness and joy we shared. It filled my heart with love; the love I had remembered, and the new love I had begun to feel for him since coming back.
I looked out the window at the trees swaying in the wind, and then I remembered our honeymoon. We’d spent our wedding night here in this, our new bedchamber, and then traveled to Williamsburg for two nights at the King’s Arms Tavern – I remembered it then. Edward had arranged us to stay there and paid for it, and also gave us some frivolous money. Ethan had purchased a beautiful satiny green dress for me with a plunging bodice that he said made my green eyes sparkle. We’d had a wonderful time wandering through the gardens, enjoying cuisine in the tavern, and consummating our marriage in the upstairs bedchambers. I remembered coming back to Wellington to these rooms and how long it took for Ethan to finish them, how long we had to live with sawdust, adding a piece of furniture at a time until all the rooms were completed.
Finally, I remembered being with child. For the first time, I remembered what it felt like to carry a baby inside me. The joy when she first moved, and Ethan and I watched as an arm or leg moved across my belly, just under the skin. I remembered having her in this bed, surrounded by Clarissa, Fanny, and a mid-wife named Ruth Parsons, Doc Parsons’ wife. Ethan had been pacing the hallway just outside the door; I could hear his footsteps. I remembered the pains of childbirth and the joy of seeing her sweet face for the first time.
“Oh, Ethan. I remember having Lillie. Right here in this very room. I remember seeing her for the first time, and seeing you hold her for the first time. I remember that she was named after our mothers – Lillie was my mother’s middle name, and Rose was your mother’s middle name. I remember everything. I remember courting, our wedding, our honeymoon, building these rooms together, all of it. I don’t feel lost or incomplete anymore. I know who I am and what my name is. I am Madeline Chambers Wellington, wife to a wonderful man and mother to a beautiful daughter. Thank you, Ethan, for bringing me up here. Thank you for making me whole again.”
I hugged him tightly and then jumped up, pulling him by the hands, much to his surprise, and began dancing around the room in a fast waltz. I was giddy and so very happy. Ethan danced and laughed with me. I realized that it should come as no surprise that the rooms in this house that meant the most to me – the ones I shared with Ethan, my husband, my love – would be the place where the bulk of my memory was restored.
We slowed the dance down and kissed and kissed, holding each other in a tender embrace. “Oh, Maddie. I’m so glad to have you back,” Ethan said softly, and I could see he was holding back tears of happiness. “It was well worth the wait, to see this look on your face now that you remember
me fully. I’m so happy.” He kissed me again deeply.
We danced around ever so slowly, enveloped in each other. “Oh, Ethan…I’ve missed you so. I’m so sorry that I didn’t remember sooner. We’ve missed so much time together.” My eyes got watery again, thinking of the wasted year apart.
“My darling, it’s all right. We have each other now, and that’s all that matters.”
We kissed again and then continued dancing and talking. I searched my memories for anything I had forgotten, and talked about them quietly with Ethan. We laughed about the funny things and felt sad at the bad things. As I struggled to remember my accident, I realized that I still didn’t know what happened.
“I still can’t remember my accident. I have no idea how I ended up in Chester or what happened to Fanny,” I murmured. And, thinking to myself, I couldn’t remember what it was about Edward that I felt uneasy about. Perhaps it was nothing other than the fact that he had changed after the war.
Chapter 13
Red
That evening after supper, there was an unexpected knock on the river-front door. Cora came into the dining room as we were finishing up with the meal and announced that a man named Red had come by to see about working in the fields.
“I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Cora,” Ethan said. He reached for my hand and asked me to join him.
“Me?” I asked, getting out of the chair.
He escorted me down the entry hall. “I’d like you to help me interview him. Please forgive me for not discussing it with you before now, but I want you to know that I value your opinion, and I thought perhaps this would be something you could help me do, take care of the field workers and servants’ needs. Is that something that would interest you?”
He wished to include me in plans for the future and wanted me to help him with important household duties. I was ecstatic. I had not really done anything like that while we were married before. I felt honored. “It would be my pleasure,” I said, smiling.
We reached the river-front door, which Ethan opened and bade the black man to come inside. Ethan directed us into the parlor, and I sat down on the sofa next to him, as Red sat down across from us in a chair. Red was a tall burly man with scars on his arms and dark oily skin. He looked to be middle-aged and spoke slow and deliberate.
“Why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Ethan said.
The man explained that he had been a slave to the Chatham family down in Georgia before the war. “My real name is Cyrus,” he explained, “but Mas’er Chatham started calling me Red after I was accused of stealin’. It happened during the war. The fella who done it was a deserter from up in Mar’land who left his battalion and stumbled ‘cross the house one day when no one else was there ‘cept for me. He stole’ some copper pots out of the kitchen house and was about to storm the main house, when I stopped ‘im. Mas’er Chatham came up the drive then, and the thief ran off, leaving me with the copper pots standing out there ‘side the kitchen. Mas’er Chatham thought I was trying to steal ‘em and take ‘em back to my cabin. So he had my left hand cut off.”
I flinched. It was only then that I noticed he had a missing hand. How cruel!
He continued, “That’s why he started calling me Red, saying he caught me ‘red-handed’. Mas’er Chatham didn’t believe me when I told him I took the pots from the real thief. I wanted to be honest with you from the start, ‘case you heard anythan’ different.”
“I thank you for your honesty,” Ethan said.
The man breathed a sigh and continued, “After Emancipation, I escaped the family at the first opportunity, as I had no respect for him after that. He didn’t want me to go, threatened to kill me. I joined a group of local militia and ended up in Virginia by the time the war was over. After the war, I’ve had a hard time finding decent people to work for, people who didn’t, excuse me, ma’am, beat on me. Seems some people forget that Lincoln freed the slaves. I just escaped a house over near Blackstone and came east till I hit the river, crossed the bridge, and then I saw your house and wondered if you needed help.”
Ethan looked over at me and took my hand in his. I smiled at him and nodded. I thought this man was being honest, that he really needed a new start in life, and that we could take care of him here. I tried to convey my approval to Ethan.
“Can you work out in the fields?” Ethan asked him. “Does it hinder you, not having your left hand?”
“Sir, I don’t have a left hand to hold on to things, but my arm strength well enough makes up for that. I’ve got plenty of brawn, and I can lift heavy things all right. I’ve learned how to use this stump, and I’m a hard worker, too.”
“Very well, then. We’ll get the paper-work done up, and you can start tomorrow. I can hire you as a tenant farmer, and you can have a small piece of land to build on eventually. For the time-being you can live in the Great Quarters. Do you have any family?”
“No, sir. Jus’ me. My family was taken away from me when I’s hired by Mas’er Chatham. I’ve never been able to make it back down to Georgia to see what happened to them – my wife and baby girl.”
I spoke for the first time. “I’m sorry. That must be really hard for you.” I looked over at Ethan, who seemed to agree with what I said. He and I both understood how deeply it hurt to be taken away from someone you loved.
“Come into the study with me for that paper-work, and then I’ll take you over to the Great Quarters.”
I followed them into the study as Ethan sat at his father’s desk. He pulled out papers, explained what they said, and had Red make his mark, as he didn’t know how to read or write. I signed the papers also, as a witness.
“Sir,” I said, touching him on the shoulder, which startled him, and he flinched. I wondered if he’d had a sore back from a recent beating, and felt sorry for him once again. “Would you prefer to be called Red or Cyrus?”
He smiled at me for the first time, showing a wide space between his two front teeth. “Cyrus, ma’am.” He looked at Ethan for his approval.
Ethan nodded. “Cyrus, it is, then.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said. He turned and looked at me. “Thank you, missus...”
“Mrs. Wellington.” I smiled at Ethan, liking the sound of that again.
“Missus Wellington,” he nodded.
Since Cyrus was going to live in the Great Quarters where Jake and Zeke lived, one of his first tasks would be to make a room livable. They all had the option of building their own cabins in the future, when the plantation became more prosperous and were able to give them wages. At least Cyrus had a safe place to live. I felt bad for the misfortunes he’s had to endure and hoped he would be happy here. If he was to become my responsibility, as well as Cora and the girls, I would do my best to make sure they are all well taken care of. I wondered if sometime in the future, we might be able to find the rest of Cyrus’ family.
Ethan found me in the sitting room after showing Cyrus around outside. I had been playing Mozart’s piano concerto No. 23 at the piano. We had no sheet music, as it had all been burned up during the war, so I had to play from memory. This piece was very quiet and romantic. I stopped when Ethan came into the room.
“Good evening, Mrs. Wellington,” he said, looking intently into my eyes. I loved hearing that. Mrs. Wellington. I just wished I was the only Mrs. Wellington that was married to Ethan. “Please, continue playing,” he said. “I love to hear you play. I’ve missed it.”
I smiled and continued playing. I remembered that I learned to play the piano here on this very piano, since our family didn’t own one. Ethan had had a younger brother, Godfrey, who was self-taught at the young age of 5, before he died of scarlet fever at age 6. No one else in the family knew how to play, but I liked to play around on it. Clarissa found out that Mrs. O’Loughlin, the parishioner’s wife, who lived on a nearby farmhouse, could play the piano, and she came over with sheets of music and taught me how to play. I smiled again, at remembering all those things. I had forgotten about little Godf
rey.
Ethan sat down and watched my hands move across the keys. Then I felt his hands pull pins out of my hair, releasing it freely down my back, undoing my braids. My arms got cold chills, even though the room was very warm. I continued to play as Ethan smoothed out my hair, but found it very hard to concentrate.
“Ethan,” I said, quietly. “I cannot continue to play when you’re doing that. Do you want to hear me play or not?” I asked, teasingly, my eyebrow arched.
He pushed my hair away from my neck and placed a kiss there on my exposed skin. More cold chills. “If you cannot do both at the same time…” Then he kissed my ear. Even more cold chills. “Then I’d rather do this.” He kissed my cheek, and I stopped playing. His arms went around me, and I placed mine around his neck, and we kissed on the lips, on the cheeks, on our chins, all over each other’s faces. I ached inside for him. I wanted him to carry me back upstairs to our bedchamber and have relations with me. We had struggled all afternoon up there to try and ignore the bed that beckoned us. How I wished we were up there now.
But he was still technically married to Elizabeth, the other Mrs. Wellington, and so we made ourselves stop. For now.
Chapter 14
Plans
The next morning was a busy one. Cyrus hammered away in his room of the Great Quarters while Jake and Zeke finished repairing the chicken coop and were presently working on repairing the carriage house. Cora and the girls were able to get more eggs and were busy cooking up some for breakfast. Ethan had gone out on Blackfoot somewhere early in the morning.
While waiting for breakfast, Clarissa and I enjoyed biscuits and coffee, and Lillie crawled around on the floor of the sitting room. I told Clarissa that I had remembered almost everything about my past, and she was so happy for me that she hugged me. I told her I remembered how much I had looked up to her in the past, especially during the war and how she handled things. How she would sneak food down to the cellar to Confederate prisoners being held here when the Yanks weren’t looking. How brave she was and how she helped me hold it together over at Magnolia Grove. How she’d helped me bury my mother in the dead of night and let me mourn. I told her that I admired how she treated others and was respected in the community. She had tears in her eyes and hugged me again.