It was one such evening during frequent talks at Nathaniel’s hut when he looked upon a familiar sight with fresh eyes. He knew it was forbidden fruit, though desired to taste its contents even more.
Today, Fortune eyed the old Bible lying near Nathaniel’s night candle with great focus. He could only explain his heightened curiosity one way. It was based on his assumption there was a powerful reason the pale man sought to keep its meaning from slaves. And because of their actions, Fortune came to the conclusion he must learn to read his oppressors’ secrets.
“I want to know what my enemy’s words mean Nathaniel. When I can read his thoughts, I will know his actions. And if I know that, there may be a way to get back to Africa!”
Nathaniel continued to be astounded by Fortune’s brash ambitions. “Good Lord, what makes you think I can teach you son? You know a slave is not supposed to read in these parts. And even if I could, why would I risk the few years I have left to help you? Have you lost your sense as well as your freedom?”
“True, there is nothing I can do to force my will upon you. But see how fast I learned the pale man’s spoken word! My mind is strong and my will even greater.
“Nathaniel, you still speak the language of your ancestors, and I believe some pride still remains in that wise mind. So let your last moments aid a fellow captive, and not smother my desire with our oppressor’s hate!”
Nathaniel studied every contour of Fortune’s strong facial features. After deciding there was no benefit to risk one’s life for such a troublemaker, he turned away towards his beckoning sleeping mat.
Then, Nathaniel remembered a kind old servant from past days at White Rose. That elderly man Perry saw something in a young Nathaniel and taught him the cherished gift of reading at great peril. Why yes, did he not hold Fortune’s same fire in his youth?
On second thought, it seemed a hollow act indeed to deny Fortune and snuff out his flame of promise. Abruptly he turned to face a puzzled Fortune.
“Fortune Smith, your head is strong, and that will get you an early grave. Now listen to me! You have a quick mind, but it ain’t gonna be enough to stay alive at White Rose. If you get uppity with Master Smith he will beat you down for good! To him we are nothing more than animals, and he expects all his animals to be well trained.
“Any time you challenge the rules at White Rose they will give you a nasty beating. You’ve got to let go of your high mind and think before you speak! If you promise me that, I will teach you how to read the pale man’s words. But always remember, if others hear tell of this, both of us will hang. Of that you can be sure.”
Fortune was pleasantly surprised by Nathaniel’s change of heart. “Thank you for this. I will never forget the faith you showed in me today.”
Nathaniel took Fortune’s outstretched hand, delivering a firm handshake. “Don’t thank me yet Fortune. I still don’t know if I’m doing right here, and I feel you will only use learning to put yourself in harm’s way. But I reckon at my age it won’t hurt to make some atonement to get in the Lord’s good books. Hope I’m wrong, but my old mind has been right too many times to think otherwise.”
Fortune’s mind flashed back to the fetid stench of death in The Relentless’s steamy hold as it carried him across the Great Ocean. He remembered that solemn vow to seize just one opportunity to reclaim his honor. Fortune reasoned he must understand the pale man’s way of thinking to find out their weaknesses. Then, armed with that knowledge, he aimed to make good on his escape. So tonight, another step forward in his grand scheme was consummated under silent conspiracy of evening stars.
On the night of their first rendezvous, Fortune looked upon the large, faded brown book that would be his next inspiration. Nathaniel tapped the weathered bible with soft respect.
“This here is the Good Book, Fortune. Would you believe that wife of Mr. Whip gave this to me? Mr. Whip is what we call Harriston Smith when he’s not around. She never knew I could use it to my advantage and read from it. She just told me to keep it by my bed as a good luck charm to protect my soul. Damn well did more than that!
“She’s something different, all right. Sure, she likes all those fine things her husband gives her. But she attends church every Sunday, and wants no one working on the Sabbath. And Darlene Smith can barely hold herself back when the whippings happen!
“Missus Smith wants order, but has seen too many of us die from beatings by Mister Whip. I’ve heard servants up in the Big House say she fears not going to heaven if one more slave dies from a whipping at White Rose.”
Fortune countered with a question which suddenly came to mind. “Do you believe that book will protect you after reading what it contains?”
Nathaniel gave the Bible an intense look, as if to divine its true meaning. “They may be able to hold our bodies in bondage, but the Lord gave us a mind. I reckon the Bible gives us a way to live better, and I feel learning can’t hurt your soul.”
Over the course of many candlelight sessions which went well past midnight, both men huddled over musty browning pages to whisper words and phrases. True to his nature, Fortune proved a quick learner.
As days became weeks, this knowledge gave him a solid basis for understanding the pale man’s beliefs. For instance, they worshiped one deity, just like the Ehra. But fundamental contradictions between what his oppressor wrote and how they acted troubled him greatly.
“This makes no sense to me,” he finally told Nathaniel during one particular vigil. “The pale man writes such grand words in his Bible. But every day they live a life opposite to what is written here. Can they ever be trusted if they do not carry out these words of their God?”
Nathaniel shook his head quickly. “That is not for us to decide in our master’s world. He has power over us, and we best worry about surviving within it.”
Fortune felt unsettled deep inside his stomach. He began to wonder if there was any value in reading the Bible if what was printed proved so many falsehoods.
“So the pale man worships a deity they do not heed, and they are supposed to be my master? They have no bond to their own God’s words, yet you say we have to believe in them? You sound defeated Nathaniel; they’ve really won the battle for your soul.”
Nathaniel was dumbstruck by Fortune’s harsh assessment. “What gives you the right to say such things about me? You ungrateful ass! You talk so boldly about things you hardly grasp!”
Fortune realized he had stepped out of line. It would do him no good to anger one of the only allies he had.
“Forgive me Nathaniel. I have so much to learn in this land, though my blood still boils at how I was tricked into captivity. You are a good man, and your teachings will help me become better too.”
Nathaniel’s stiffened back relaxed after hearing this complement. “I keep telling you, Fortune, to watch your place here. If you let that anger slip at the wrong time they will make you pay dearly. And there is nothing in God’s graces I could do to stop them. Understand me son?”
Fortune nodded his head in acknowledgement.
“Now let’s finish off for the night. Tomorrow’s a heavy day for both of us.”
The next morning found Harriston Smith in good spirits. Two months prior he and Darlene had received invitations to one of the biggest events in Georgia’s social calendar, happening this very evening.
But with just hours to spare before departure, Harriston was becoming irritated. He had no idea of his wife’s whereabouts. Finding an overseer outside, he determined to get an answer. But as he prepared to speak, Harriston’s pride overtook his mind.
“Tommy, look around here. There ain’t no way my slaves would have it better anywhere else! Just look at those rows of cotton bursting from rich Georgian soil. And this grass is so springy it cushions the soles of any man’s feet. So what is wrong within my little paradise?
“I’ll tell you what! Where in the hell is Darlen
e Smith? Sometimes I think she takes pleasure in putting my mind at ill ease! I’ve searched high and low for her. We have a formal ball to attend at Springwater Plantation and I don’t want to be late! What the hell can she be up to?”
His hired man bore a blank expression. “Don’t know Mr. Smith. I thought she was upstairs in the Big House.”
“Well, that’s obviously not the case, since I’m asking your fool head! The main carriages are still on the drive, and that means she is somewhere on the grounds. Now I want you to take…”
At that moment Darlene Smith sauntered into view with a servant carrying several fashionable boxes.
“Darlene, where in the blazes were you at? You know we have to get ready for the Christmas Season Ball tonight?”
“Hush now Harriston, you’re cackling like an old crow!” she replied dismissively. “Oh yes, do you remember the wheel on that formal black carriage our old blacksmith could never fix? Fortune looked after it yesterday; his overseer said it’s now running smoothly. And you know how I always said it was my favorite carriage. So I had one of the drivers take me to town. Even he said it was gliding along the roads.” Darlene continued into the main house with a frustrated Harriston marching in behind her.
Soon Harriston was upstairs tidying himself for the evening event. Standing proudly in front of the floor length decorated mirror, he reflected on how good life now appeared. Though try as he may, he could not forget those latest compliments lauded upon Fortune.
“Why should it bother you?” he asked aloud to himself. “You have supremacy and superior intellect. You can whip that nigra into his place at any time. Hell, they all fear your power. You know they call you Mister Whip. If any of them try to talk you down, just bring them back down to their level with your thick braided rope. Strike the damn demons from their minds! Make them peaceful savages again. Fortune is no greater than the rest. In the end, he’s the slave, and you’re the gentleman. And if Fortune does not know it now, he will soon enough.”
Leaving the mirror after regaining some confidence, Harriston rejoined Darlene. “Oh my, is this the most beautiful belle in Georgia, or am I still in a dream? We’re gonna light up that grand ballroom at Springwater like nobody’s business! Yes sir, Harriston and Darlene Smith will show why we’re the pride of Georgia, head and shoulders above the rest. I can’t wait to see them whisper their envious prattle when we walk in!”
Darlene gave Harriston a warm peck on his cheek. “You’re right dear. You and I are a team, in every true sense of the word. Let us never forget that, lest it comes back to test us.”
Darlene went away to the powder room, continuing personal preparations with her servant. Meanwhile, Harriston pondered the true meaning of her words in silence. Somehow, he could not escape the nagging feeling of a subtle challenge to his manliness.
*****
Nathaniel beheld his pupil with utmost pride. “We are in a New Year, the Year of Our Lord 1840. You have done so well under these learnings that you could probably read better than any of them!
“But hold back your knowledge for your own safety. Show the master and his like none of your brains and even less of your pride. Mister Whip is just itching for a reason to send you to your grave, and will not miss any opportunity to justify it to Missus Smith. He’d kill you just as sure as you’d be Swamp Man’s Scout. And they would all like to string him up!”
Fortune’s brow crinkled in puzzlement. “What is a Swamp Man’s Scout?”
Nathaniel pressed a firm finger to his lips. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have gone on like a fool head! That’s a name you don’t want to say out loud around here. There ain’t a need for you to know more. It would be dangerous for you to repeat his name; understand me son?”
Fortune’s curiosity was heightened by Nathaniel’s emotional response, though he agreed. “Yes Nathaniel, I will not say that name to anyone.”
A satisfied Nathaniel carried on. “I’ve noticed you’ve come off your high horse since first coming to White Rose. It was best you lost that uppity head and left it back in Africa. To survive around here you have to be smart enough to play dumb. They don’t want to be threatened in any way, for a smart Colored man is the pale man’s worst nightmare down here.”
Fortune grasped what Nathaniel was implying. “I told you already that these teachings are between us. I owe you a great deal for it. Don’t worry about word getting out.”
“That’s good to hear. Now let’s catch some rest before they crack a whip on us tomorrow.” As Fortune departed into the cool slap of winter air, he soon felt watchful eyes upon him. Turning in twilight darkness, he noticed an older lady entering a door to her crude abode. Making a mental note to inquire about her nature, he headed off to his quarters.
After enduring another round of strenuous smithing and forging, Fortune dragged himself back to his wooden shack. While eating his bare ration of pork and sticky rice, he recalled catching sight of an elderly lady the previous evening. Fortune would make sure to alert Nathaniel of this possible interloper. Later, in the confines of Nathaniel’s cabin, he relayed his concern.
“Last night when I left your cabin I saw an old lady watching me. I can’t be sure how long her eyes were on me, but could that put us in a bad way?”
The elderly teacher’s ears pricked up. “You’re telling me somebody was watching you? Damn it boy, I told you to be careful! Tell me where you saw her.”
“About seven huts down from here on the other side. She looked older than most around White Rose, and was just shutting her door so I couldn’t see much more.”
Immediately Nathaniel’s deep scowl turned to a faint grin of recognition. “It’s okay son, thank goodness! She’s an old soul, known as Ginger round here. And let me tell you, her brain has a wisdom that’s born of no one’s words here. Her hands can heal a horses’ knock or a baby’s bottom. Even Mister Whip does not know what to make of Ginger. Trust me when I say no one wants to be on the wrong side of her!”
Fortune was relieved. “So she’s not a spy for Mister Whip and the Big House?”
“No mistaking Fortune; she knows most of what goes on around here. But she’s on our side, and always will be. Thank the Lord for that small mercy! I think our business is finished here tonight. In another two weeks you will have exhausted me of all my learning. Good night Fortune.”
“You rest well tonight Nathaniel.” As Fortune closed the door, there was not a hint of another person outside. Calmly he made his way back for a few hours rest. Tomorrow at dawn his daily sentence of servitude would begin anew.
*****
Fresh blooms of tangy fragrances perfumed the toil spilling forth from every busy patch of White Rose’s grounds. Yes, spring had come a little earlier than usual, which quite agreed with the plantation’s owner.
Surveying all from under the main house portico, Harriston Smith felt proud of his latest accomplishments. Profits from their expanding cotton trade were growing at a favorable pace. His slaves were working harder; even though he kept their ration level steady these past few years. And most important, every person upon these grounds knew his unquestioned authority was stronger than ever.
Letting these positive thoughts preen his ego, he sauntered inside to have a light breakfast. Upon entering the dining room, his jovial temperament turned to some concern. He sensed trouble was afoot, which he never liked to entertain as a first order of the day. So he steeled his senses for the pending bother.
Darlene Smith was visibly upset when Harriston sat down at their expansive carved oak table. Immediately he drew near her and placed his hands on top of hers.
“What seems to have your mind dearest? We’ve had such a good season at White Rose. There isn’t anything that could make you look so upset now, is there?”
Darlene did not waste a minute, responding in a cross tone. “Sometimes I wonder why your men cannot show more humanity in their ways wit
h the servants! Just because they are under us, they still deserve our protection. After all, they’re too simple to know better!
“For instance, did you know what happened at the stables this morning? That coward Tommy didn’t say a peep to you! The fool was out in the stables with apparently nothing better to do. So to satisfy his imbecile brain, Tommy started teasing our old grey mare Hattie again. Well, Hattie was in no mood for his taunting this time around! She struck out at him, cornering Tommy in one of the stalls.
“When he realized what a spot he was in, Tommy started crying out like a young child. But then Fortune heard his wailing and came to his rescue. Fortune calmed Hattie down straight away, saving Tommy’s sorry behind. Would you believe he didn’t even thank Fortune? Tommy just scowled at him before ordering Fortune back to work. That my dear is the definition of White trash!”
“How dare you talk about a good White man that way!” hissed back an incensed Harriston. “Do you think it’s right to respect a savage over a gentleman? You can’t be speaking like this outside of these walls Darlene! White Rose can’t be seen housing nigra lovers.”
Smith’s wife furnished a withering look, turning Harriston’s blood into a cold rush. “I say as I please, whenever and however I like! May I add that some of these people I endure in proper society act like the very beasts they claim to contain!
“Always remember Harriston it was my family’s holdings which made White Rose Plantation the envy of this state! So whatever aspirations you have in continuing the life of a Southern gentleman are rooted in their status. And that power still goes a very long way in Georgia. Are we clear now?”
Harriston’s legs acquired a faint tremble. There was no way on this earth he would compromise his current situation! On the other hand, who was she to challenge his male authority? White Rose would not possess its current prosperous glow if it was still under her father’s hands. Though on reflection he decided this was not a battle worth waging. He would give her this petty triumph.
The Watchman's Grace Page 4