by S A Ison
“I carried supplies, like a pack horse. All the men did. The bigger you was, the more supplies they packed on. There weren’t many horses, I think they ate them beasts. Any food them boys found at homesteads was eaten, there on the spot by the soldiers.” Henry yawned. Mary got up and led her husband to their bed. She knew he was bone tired; it was time for sleep.
Mary prayed that the end was near, that soon, this war would be at an end. For now, she was thankful that her husband was home and that night she lay awake, her hand caressing her husband’s back. Her hand mapped out the familiar lash marks Clark had given him years ago. She had memorized them long ago and was relieved that there were no new ones. She fell asleep, her hand still touching the familiar back of her husband.
TEN
Spring came as it always did, with enthusiastic bursts of color and birth. Only six of the original twenty men ever made it back to the Anderson farm. Henry and one other married man made it home along with four single men. It was never known whether the others had gone north or had perished in the trying. All hoped it was the latter.
John’s health continued to decline and through the long winter, he had become bedridden. Victor and Drake fought for his attention, but Ida and Rachel won out. Rachel was a happy child and Ida strived daily to encourage Rachel’s tinkling laughter. Victor and Drake wanted nothing to do with the girls and played as the foot of the bed with the small iron soldiers, that had been Theo’s toys when he had been a small boy.
Throughout the day, Patina and Mary checked in on their charge and the children. While Patina fed her children, she coaxed John to eat as well. The old man had lost his appetite, but would try when the children ate. They too encouraged him to eat, their food encrusted smiles entreating. John was moved out to the porch with the help of Tall Tom and Gabe. There he basked in the warm sunshine and seemed to a little better.
It was early May, when word reached the Anderson farm of General Lee’s surrender at Appomattox court house. It was also coupled with the devastating news that President Lincoln had been assassinated at Ford’s Theater, by an actor, John W. Booth. Theo’s world was spinning out of control. The surrender meant that the war was over, but what now, with the Union President dead as well? What in the hell was going to happen? What did it mean to him? The war was over, the north had won and the slaves were now free. Theo stood on the porch, reading the notice over and over. It’s over, it is finally over and the president is dead, his brain chanted. At the cost of so many men, brothers, fathers, husbands and sons, it was over. At the cost of a President, it was over. His arm ached dully at the thought of war. Unconsciously, he went to rub the arm and shrugged sheepishly to himself when his hand rubbed air.
Theo went to the bell and rang it, calling in all the slaves. It was time to tell them the news, that the war was over and they were free. He didn’t know if they even knew who President Lincoln was, but they would need to know that the war was finally over and they were free. Slowly, the whole of the slave population made their way to the main house, their faces tense, because it was mid day. The last time they had been called in, twenty men were taken away to fight the war. Only six of their own had returned. Mary and Patina came out to the porch and stood silently, waiting for the young master to make his wishes clear.
The sun seemed especially bright today and the scent of the flowers, sweet. Theo stood before his people, unsure on how to proceed. He had known these people all his life, and had come to know some of them more intimately over the last few years. He didn’t begrudge them their freedom, but he was unsure how he was to run the farm without their help. He had thought long and hard during the winter about what he would do should the war end, but he didn’t know how the slaves would react once they knew they were free to go.
“I have some news that will change your lives.” Theo started solemnly. Holding up the notice, he continued, “This is a notice and it says that the war is over. The Union army and the North have triumphed over the Confederacy. As per the Emancipation proclamation, that President Lincoln signed, you are now free men and women.” Looking out into their faces, he saw shock at first, then understanding.
“Suh, do that mean we kin leave here? We don’t need no permission or pass, suh?” Tall Tom asked, the unofficial spokesman for the now ex-slaves.
“Yes Tom, this means you may go where you want. You are free to go and do as you wish. You are no longer my property.” Theo said softly, a soft smile on his lips.
“Suh, where we go? We ain’t know nothin’ about nothin’. What we do, suh? How we gonna live?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know Tom, whatever you want to do and wherever you wish to go. I would ask that if any of you want to stay here and keep working my farm, I can pay you a little. At the end of harvest, I can pay you a percentage of the crops we sell at market. I can’t guarantee you a lot of money, but you’ll have your homes, some money and whatever food you grow in your gardens. For those of you who wish to leave, I can give you a small amount of money to help you on your way. I can’t run this farm without your help, but I can’t keep you here any longer if you don’t wish to stay. Tall Tom, if you want to talk with these people, find out who wants to stay and who wishes to go, you and I can then sit down and hash out the details.” Theo said, hope in his bright blue eyes.
Theo went up on the porch to talk with his father, the ex-slaves milled about the main house and talked with Tall Tom. Gabe and Dark Henry came up to Theo and his father on the porch some time later. Mary went to her husband and took his hand, a question in her eyes. Smiling gently at his lovely wife, Henry kissed her on her forehead. He whispered something in her ear, causing her to smile in return. She turned and went back into the house, pulling Patina with her.
Patina looked at her questioningly, her brow knotted in concern.
“Henry says we’re gonna stay and work for Theo.” She smiled, she and Henry had talked for long hours at night, in each other’s arms. They spoke about the incredible possibility of freedom, so close at hand. Mary had also thought long and hard about what would happen should the war end. Mary didn’t want to leave the farm; this had been her home all her life. She wasn’t ready to leave it. She wanted to stay on and perhaps keep working as housekeeper. This was her home, it was familiar and for her, it was safe.
The memories of her visit to Savannah still haunted her to this day. She shivered at the remembrance.
“I want to stay too.” Patina said softly, a smile on her pretty face.
“I don’t think Theo would let you or the children go.” Mary smiled.
“I love him and he loves me.” Patina said simply, her hazel eyes aglow.
As it turned out, Gabe wanted to take his family and go north and work there. Dark Henry agreed to stay on and be the farm’s blacksmith. Twelve families wanted to leave and try their luck elsewhere, hoping to find their loved ones, who were spread far and wide. Most of the single men wanted to stay put, especially the six who had returned from their stint in the confederate army. It would be tough, but it could be done, with, everyone pitching in to help, they could make the farm prosper and provide for the families that remained.
Theo paid each of the families that had decided to leave ten dollars, giving them several chickens as well. To Gabe, he gave a horse and chickens, along with twenty dollars. It was generous and Theo wished them all well. Liza wanted to stay on the farm, telling Gabe she was too old to go traipsing about the country side. She asked him not to go so far north and told him to bring her grandbabies back when they could.
Within a week, almost half of the ex-slave population had departed to find their fortunes. There were tearful goodbyes, laughter and high hopes. The farm seemed a bit quieter once they had gone, a lonesome and sad kind of emptiness. Dark Henry helped Tall Tom take down several of the empty cabins, they took that wood and did repairs on the remaining homes. Wood floors were put in the cabins and the smaller gardens expanded. It would take a lot of hard work to keep the farm up and running, but eve
ryone was willing to work hard.
Patina went back out into the field, she wanted to work near Theo, who was out there every day. She felt cooped up within the walls of the main house and wanted to be out in the sunshine. Drake and Rachel, along with Ida and Victor, stayed at the house with Mary, who kept the house running smoothly. Mary also started teaching the children to read and write, and some of the adults who wanted to learn. There came a new rhythm to their lives and as the months went on, they saw more and more of what the war had cost.
Carpetbaggers were a constant nuisance and John sat on the porch with an ancient musket. Men coming home from war passed through, their pale and gaunt faces seemed haunted with all they had witnessed. They looked starved and weak, many having some kind of wound or bandage. Mary watched them from the window, because many looked at her with venomous hate. She wondered how her friends fared out there, with no place to go. How would they be treated?
Mary and Dark Henry helped with harvest; every hand was needed. John kept the children while the adults and older children worked in the fields. It had been a good year, despite the loss of so many field hands. Each night Mary and Henry returned to their home tire and hungry. Mary made dinner, which was supplemented by Cookie, who sent down cornbread and soup beans. Mary took care of the garden by their cabin, Ida and Victor were also tasked with the chore of cleaning the cabin and minding the garden. Mary had Henry dig a small root cellar, she wanted to keep her vegetables as fresh as possible and with her growing family, she wanted plenty on hand. With the increase of garden size, Mary had plenty to store. She grew potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions, snap beans, corn, peanuts and squash. With the money that she and Henry earned, she bought canning jars, so she could put up food stuffs for winter.
Mary had Ida helping her with the canning and watching Victor. She was pregnant with her third child and knew that as the pregnancy went along, it would become more difficult to juggle the house, the cabin, the children, cooking and laundry. She was due in late February and Dark Henry was as proud as any peacock, strutting about her.
Liza spent many evenings with Mary’s family, she felt lonely and missed her grandchildren. She held and cuddled Victor when he would let her. Bethy was no company at all, she had become eerily quiet and it bothered Liza to be around her. As the weather grew colder, Liza spent more time at Mary’s cabin with the children. Mary’s duties increased up at the main house. John was feeling mighty poorly and he wanted Mary near him, as had his wife. Liza stayed at the cabin to watch over Mary’s children during those long days.
Dark Henry had chinked up the cabin once again for winter and with the fire in the hearth, the small cabin was warm. Liza cooked the evening meal for the family, knowing Mary would be exhausted when she returned at the end of the day. Henry had a ravenous appetite and went hunting in the evenings. He had shot several deer and had butchered them and set them to cure in the smokehouse. Tonight, Liza was making rabbit stew, Henry had brought in a brace of rabbits earlier.
It was well after dusk when Mary walked into the cozy cabin, she inhaled deeply, appreciating the delicious aroma of rabbit stew. She had a dishtowel filled with warm biscuits and a small jar of honey. She was tired from sitting with John. His health was heading straight to hell in a hand basket. He had gone blind and would cry out for her if she strayed too far. She cleaned house furiously while he napped, trying to keep the house in some semblance of clean. It was a daunting task to say the least.
Victor saw his mother enter the cabin and hopped down from his father’s lap. His toothy smile tugged at Mary’s heart; sometimes he looked a great deal like her mother, then other times, he was the spit of Henry. She squatted down and hugged Victor, but didn’t pick him up, he was getting so big, he was nearly five. Ida came to her mother and hugged her; her small mouth sullen. Mary looked up at Liza questioningly. Liza rolled her eyes,
“Ida wanted to help cook. She dropped one of the roasting rabbits into the fire.”
She had been relieved of her cooking duties and sent to watch Victor. This had not set well with Ida and she had gone to her pallet to sulk. The rabbit in question had been retrieved and set back to roasting on its spit. The rabbit stew continued to bubble and filled the cabin with delicious smells. Henry had been reading the bible to Victor when Mary had come in. Mary had taught Dark Henry to read some time ago. At night after dinner, they would take turns reading from the bible, Henry’s deep voice resonating quietly in the small home.
The children drowsed as they listened to their parents talk, Liza held Victor in her strong arms until he fell asleep. Mary invited Liza to sleep with the children, knowing that the older woman was lonely. Most times, Liza went home, but when she was especially lonely, Liza stayed the night. Mary knew the old woman slept best on those nights, holding the small warm bodies to her, listening to their soft snores. Mary eyes opened, she heard Liza’s soft weeping and knew that Liza missed her grandchildren and Nan.
Liza shifted in the dark of night; the children sound asleep beside her. She heard Henry’s soft snores, a comfort. She had missed the young man and she knew that Mary had grieved for him. Where it not for Mary and her family, Liza thought she might be lost. Now more than ever, she missed her old friends. Many were dead or sold off long ago. Bethy had become so bitter and twisted inside, that there were times when she frightened Liza.
Liza was afraid to let Victor go near Bethy, because the woman had become jealous of Mary, for her son. Bethy had begun to call Victor, Ellis and would attempt to take the boy to her cabin. Victor would howl with fear, clinging to Liza’s skirts. Liza knew Mary also watched Bethy closely. It was a good thing. The week before, Mary had caught Bethy dragging Victor across the yard, the child screaming. Mary had confronted Bethy. The tiny hairs on Liza’s arm rose at the memory. Bethy’s eyes were wild and filled with pain.
“I know you miss your Ellis, but you stay away from Victor. You’re scaring him and I won’t have it. He is Victor, not Ellis. Ellis is a grown man now. He’s in New York.” Mary warned. Finally, Bethy understood, Liza could see it in her pain filled eyes and the woman turned and into her cabin. Liza knew that it had upset Mary, bring up Ellis’s name. It brought back bad memories and sorrow.
Mary had told Henry about the incident and Henry had gone to talk to the woman. He came home sometime later, shaking his head.
“Bethy cried and begged to let her have Victor. She just doesn’t understand. We’ll need to watch her.” His deep voice held sorrow and a little fear. Liza agreed, Bethy needed to be watched. She turned over and pulled Victor to her and let her body relax and finally found her sleep.
Things came to a head with Bethy and her obsession with Victor. It was Christmas day, drizzling and cold. Ida and Victor were out in the yard playing with their Christmas gifts their father had made. Victor had received a hand carved wagon and horse and Ida had received a ragdoll; Mary had stitched it with scraps of material and indigo yarn for hair. Mary had made several frocks to dress the doll and Ida was in ecstasy, running about the yard with her toy.
In early afternoon, Mary came down from the main house with her arms full of goodies that Cookie had bestowed upon her. Liza had cooked Christmas dinner for the family, roasted yams in the fire, black eyed peas with several chunks of ham, and roasted chicken with fried potatoes and onions. Mary’s mouth watered at the wonderful aroma of different dishes. Mary knew Henry would enjoy it the most, he was out hunting today. He had left before day break, when Mary rose. He would be home soon, she was sure.
The cabin door slammed open, Ida came running in wild eyed and crying. Alarmed, Mary pulled Ida to her, looking for a wound, but saw nothing. She shook the hysterical child, trying to comprehend her babbling. Bethy had taken Victor and run for the woods. Fear shot through Mary; she had hoped that Henry’s warning had worked to keep Bethy in check. It had, but not for long. Liza pulled the food from the fire and told Ida to head up to the main house to get Mr. Theo. Both women grabbed their coats and ran from the cabin. S
tanding in the yard, Mary looked around. The ground was damp from an earlier downpour. Looking around for tracks, she headed for a stand of oaks, Liza behind her. Heads popped out of cabins with curiosity at the uproar.
Liza was puffing hard and Mary turned to Liza.
“Go back to the house and stay with Ida, I know she’s upset and frightened.” She puffed. Liza baulked and shook her head.
“I’m damn well goin with you, gal. There’s no tellin’ where Bethy has taken the boy.” Liza grunted, catching up to Mary. Mary gave up and picked up the pace, going into the forest. They heard hoof beats on the soggy ground and both women turned, seeing Theo riding toward them. He had Ida up before him, guiding him to her mother. Pulling up, he handed Ida to Liza.
“Mount up, Mary.” He said and held a hand down to help Mary up behind him. Mary grabbed his hand and he pulled her up behind him, her large belly pressing into his back.
“Go back to the house Liza, take Ida with you. When Henry gets back, send him out to look.” He turned his mount and Mary tightened her arms around Theo. She felt the horse move beneath her. Mary felt a thrill of fear spear through her as she felt the strength of the horse beneath her. The fear for her son over ruled the fear of the powerful beast. She held on to Theo, her eyes scanning the ground. They had to slow their pace because the forest became dense. Mary called for Victor from time to time, hearing nothing but the breeze blowing through the bare branches.
After two hours, Mary’s fear had escalated, there was no sign of Bethy or her son. They had lost the trail and were circling around, weaving in and out of the trees. Theo lent his voice to Mary’s. Fear lacing his tone as well. This did not bode well for Victor; it was growing cooler and the sky was laden with more gathering clouds, more rain was on the way.
In the distance they heard the baying of a hound and Theo pulled up on the reins, waiting for the newcomer. It was Dark Henry, he was astride Tall Tom’s horse and he had borrowed the hound from one of their nearest neighbors, Ethan Kilgour. Henry had one of Victor’s small shirt in hand, the dog was on the trail of their son. Henry dismounted and walked to his wife. He pulled Mary from behind Theo and placed her up on his horse. Squatting down before the hound, he once again let the animal sniff the boy’s shirt. The dog became excited, wanting to be off. Pulling himself up in front of his wife, the three set off after the baying hound.