Hogarth II

by Vicky Saari

  Sarah’s smile was a fleeting one when a final pain seized her. “Here it comes,” Jessie smiled proudly as she guided her newest grandchild onto the towel that she was holding. “It’s another girl,” she announced as she took the strips of sheet and held her special knife over a candle to burn away any impurities. It was a trick she had learned from her grandmother, though most doctors didn’t bother. She wrapped the baby in the towel and laid it beside her mother while she tended to the rest of the cleanup. “You know, Sarah, this would have been a heck of a lot easier on both of us if you had gotten to the bed first. I’m too old to be sittin’ down and workin’ on the floor.”

  Sarah looked up from her baby and smiled at her mother-in-law. “It kind of reminded me of the time when Little Brad was born.”

  Jessie laughed, and Sarah wanted to but wasn’t quite up to it yet. “That was some event, delivering your firstborn in a lean-to hut on a pine bough bed. So what are you going to name her?”

  “I think we’ll call her Mary, after my own mother, if you don’t mind,” whispered Sarah.

  Jessie had just finished tying up the bundle of refuse for burying when the men walked in the door. Jed was startled to see his wife lying on the floor with their new baby beside her and his mother with a pigskin bundle. “I’ll get a shovel and take care of that for you, ma.” He took the bundle from her and turned toward the barn to get a shovel.

  Brad was the first to reach his ma and take his new sister in his arms. “Get some water ready, Grandma. I’ll get her cleaned up before Pa comes back.”

  Old Abner stayed outside and played with the two youngsters, who had been watching their ma’s ordeal through the door. “Grandma says we got a new sister. Is that true, Uncle Abner?”

  “You sure do, boy,” the elderly man crooned to the five-year-old. He picked Catherine up and began playing pat-a-cake with her. For a man who had spent most of his life as a woodsman on the frontier, Abner had settled into domestic life quite comfortably. He’d never had children of his own, never even had a wife, for that matter. But ever since he stopped to visit the widow of Brad Parson and her son and found himself in the middle of planning a wedding, he’d found a place to call home. Sarah had come to be the daughter he’d never had. Jed was just as much a son-in-law as a man could want. He loved them all, especially his new grandchildren. It was a shame that Sarah’s pa and Brad’s ma couldn’t find it in their hearts to forgive Sarah for first running away to marry Brad and then remarrying another man almost ten years later. He watched young Brad caring for his new sister and had no doubt that he was going to be a fine man.

  George had watched nervously as Caleb and the girl walked up the path carrying the pot of stew and pan of cornbread. The realization that he was completely alone again struck him with a frightful feeling. He studied his surroundings, and the truth was he’d never really been on his own before. The idea both excited him and frightened him. He tried to get up and walk about, but his injuries were still too fresh. He soon gave up and turned to the dish of stew Caleb had carried to him. Suddenly, he was starved and made quick work of the cornbread and jar of buttermilk they had brought him.

  Caleb had asked him what his plans were. Truth was all he had known to do was to run north as far as he could go. He really hadn’t thought much beyond that point. What would he have done had he gotten to Canada? Were darkies really free up there, or was that just a rumor? For the time being, he contented himself to sit quietly, listening to the forest, and promised himself he’d begin to make plans tomorrow. Absentmindedly, he reached for a stalk of grass to chew on it. The warm breeze and chirping of birds was interrupted by the sound of wagon wheels cutting through the gravel on the drive up to the house. It sounded like the driver was in a hurry. He caught his breath and hobbled toward the cabin. He had no idea who could be coming and wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. The forest had become so quiet; the only thing he could hear was his own breath.

  Martha was surprised to find the Hogarths’ house empty. “What if those men got away from the sheriff?” she fretted and immediately turned her attention to the old cabin. “I hope George is still here,” she muttered under her breath as she reboarded her buggy and pulled up near the cabin door.

  “Miss Martha!” exclaimed George. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath as he opened the door and hobbled into the opening. She saw him almost at the same moment that he had seen her. She drove her rig closer to the cabin, tied the reins to a tree, and ran to greet her old friend with a hug.

  “I’m surprised to see you up and about,” she exclaimed. “I guess I shouldn‘t be. Jessie is well known for her healing skills. By the way, where is everyone?”

  “I’m not sure. Mr. Hogarth brought me some stew and said he and his daughter were going to meet the misses at their son’s house. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on. A little one ran over this afternoon crying for his grandma. Said his ma needed help, and she took off runnin’.”

  “Sarah must have had her baby,” thought Martha aloud. “You’ll like Sarah and Jed. Jed is the one who used his pigs to capture those bounty hunters who were after you. I guess they were wanted in a lot of places that had nothin’ to do with you.”

  George listened to his old friend and shook his head. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but how do I know I can trust these people?” he asked pointedly. “Your husband’s brother was the one who was gonna sell me in St. Louis.”

  Martha thought for a minute about what her old friend was saying. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be able to trust many people, especially white people. Suddenly, she felt ashamed for all that had happened to her childhood friend, much of which had started years before when they were children, and she had impulsively given him a hug just as she had done today. She looked away as she began to speak. “Well, George, there are a lot of people—white people, that is, who don’t believe in slavery. I’d never really thought about how scary this was for you. But I will say this. If you can’t trust the Hogarths, you can’t trust anybody. Besides, my daughter is married to their other son, Zeke.”

  She straightened and turned toward the darkie and looked him square in the eye. “My husband is one of those men you can trust too. In fact, he’s making a trip to Madison this week himself to find out more about this business of going north. He’s hoping you don’t do nothin’ foolish like runnin’ away again before he learns more about what is goin’ on.”

  George smiled then hung his head for a few moments before he responded. “This Mr. Hogarth, he said to call him Caleb. He said we’d work out somethin’. I wasn’t sure what he was meanin’. I tole him I’d be glad to help him a bit to repay him and his missus for takin’ me in.”

  Martha then told George how the Hogarths had taken in just about every family in the area at one time or another. They had a good laugh when she told him about the day Caleb had brought Jessie and Sarah to her house, and they were wearing dresses made from the same fabric. “It’s the same material you’re wearin’ and see hangin’ on that window in your cabin.” She talked about her friendship with the Indian woman, Minnie. “I think in some ways her dark skin kind of reminded me of your ma. I guess that’s why we became such good friends.”

  George listened thoughtfully and was heartened by the look of peace in Miss Martha’s eyes, which made him wonder, “Miss Martha, I jes cain’t get over the change that’s come over you. Not jes about bein’ a grandma, but I never in my wildest ideas could ever have imagined you bein’ a frontier housewife, let alone a storekeeper.”

  The former southern belle laughed at the changes that she had undergone since leaving Kentucky. “To be truthful, I never knew I had it in me either. The honest truth is that I wouldn’t go back to the old ways for nothin’ in the world.” She then turned to the runaway slave and asked, “Would you like to go with me and meet the rest of the Hogarths? It’s kind of a tradition we’ve started here.�
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  For a moment, George didn’t know how to answer, but as he started to get up to walk, he decided against such an outing. “I don’t think Missus Hogarth, I mean Jessie, would be too pleased with me. She made it real clear that I need to stay off this leg for another day or so. If you want to go see the new babe, I’ll be all right alone here.” He paused then added, “I ain’t used to bein’ alone much. I guess I’d better start gettin’ used to it. I’ll meet them all a little later.”

  Martha hesitated for a while, and then she realized George was still feeling pretty poorly. “I’ll tell Jessie then that you are doin’ all right. Maybe you should go lie down and give that leg more time to heal.”

  Gratefully, George waved good-bye and promised to come see her as soon as he was well enough. Slowly, he hobbled to the corn-husk bed that Jessie had prepared in the corner and eased his way onto it.

  A short while later Martha pulled up in front of Sarah and Jed’s house, and the Hogarths were getting ready to head back home. “Did you come to give us a ride back?” asked Jessie. “I sure could use one,” she smiled as she strode to the wagon and was already preparing to mount the box beside Martha.

  “Well, the truth is that I came to get you. It seems the wife of one of our drivers is sick. Remember the Maynards who live in the village? You delivered their baby a few weeks back. The kids came into the store a while ago and said their ma was awful sick, and their pa is on the road for Seth. He’s not supposed to be home until the end of the week.”

  Suddenly, Jessie’s fatigue faded, and she asked, “Can we go by the house so I can get my satchel?” She turned to her daughter, who was now climbing into the back of the wagon alongside her pa. “Jessie, you want to come with me to check on the Maynards?”

  “Why don’t you drop me off, and I can saddle up Rosie, then we can both ride her home?” the young woman suggested. At sixteen, Little Jessie was considered a full-fledged woman. Indeed, girls on the frontier who weren’t married before the age twenty were considered old maids. The truth was, it was kind of hard to find a fellow in such isolated regions.

  *****

  As work on the restoration of Hogarth progressed, the fog in his thoughts was starting to lift. He was pleased to see Charlie and George again, but he was unsure of the man working on his tower. The man was new, but Hogarth watched him intently while one by one Dave removed each of the stones from his tower, and then he brushed and scoured away the old mortar before starting to replace them to their rightful places. He systematically studied the handwrought frame of the old window and could tell that each of its glass panes had been hand poured by someone. Dave had a strong affinity for old houses. In fact, he lived in one himself that was not much newer than this one. He wondered about the Jacob who had built the original tower. He also wondered what had prompted the original owner to even want to add such a tower to the side of his house.

  Unaware that he was murmuring his thoughts aloud, Hogarth was listening curiously. It warmed his hearth to hear Dave speak. Slowly, he was becoming aware that much work was being done to restore him. He turned his attention to Charlie and George on his roof and was tempted to harass them as he once had. However, while studying the new man at work at the base of his tower, a wicked idea came to his mind. He watched the man for a moment, and just as he stepped away from the pile of rocks and began stirring his mortar, Hogarth shrugged a stone loose and let it fall to the ground.

  Overhead, Charlie and George were both hanging onto the roof and struggling to keep their footing. The two men stared at each other and then broke into laughter. For days they had been worrying because the house had shown no signs of life. Indeed, it had been disappointing to have nothing out of the norm happen to them as they worked. They looked over the side just in time to see another stone fall from the tower and roll toward Dave. It stopped at his feet, and both men snickered when they saw the look of surprise on the man’s face.

  Dave looked at the rock and then up at the two carpenters and remembered their remarks about the house being haunted. He looked back at the rock, then at the tower, and realized the truth about Hogarth. “Hey, hey, old fellow,” he chided and patted the tower with his trowel, and then he reset the fallen rock into its place.

  Hogarth chuckled. “I like Dave.”

  Chapter 9

  As Martha and Jessie neared the Maynards’ cabin, the children huddled around their mother’s bed. Unable to help, Sylvia Maynard slowly rose from her bed and told her oldest to fix his brothers and sisters something to eat. “What about the baby, Mama?” Todd asked worriedly. “I tried to give it some cow’s milk, but it wouldn’t take it. I asked Mrs. Hodges to bring the medicine woman. They’ll be here any minute,” he reassured as he turned and began shooing children out into the yard.

  Tears rose in her eyes. She was too weak to respond and dropped back onto her flattened pillow. She wasn’t sure if she should even allow the children to be around her in this condition. At first, she thought she just had a cold or some kind of spring fever, but the ague and chills set in, and her fever went up. Her breast hurt so bad that she could barely lift her arms, let alone let the child suckle. Her fears were the kind that swept all mothers with newborns on the frontier. Maddox was only six weeks old, and it had been over a day since she had had the strength to feed him. Milk fever had killed her own mother, and now she feared she would be next. She worried what her husband would do when he returned from New Albany, where he had taken a load of freight for Seth Hodges. He should be home in a few days, but what would she do until then?

  Todd and his sister, ten-year-old Mattie, herded the rest of the children out into the yard, where she gave each of them a small wooden bowl of cornmeal mush. Mattie had made it using water and the last of her mama’s cornmeal. She took the baby under a tree and was trying unsuccessfully to spoon some mush into the baby’s mouth when Martha’s rig pulled up in front, and Jessie jumped down and hurried into the house. She found the frail woman lying in a squalid makeshift bed and in a delirium. Todd and Mattie left the baby with the other children and followed the women into the house. “It looks like her fever might be breaking,” Jessie whispered to Martha as she carefully examined her patient. She then turned to the oldest boy and asked him to do her a favor. “My daughter is on her way over with a horse. Can you try to catch her, and ask her to bring me some ice from the icehouse?” she asked.

  Todd listened wide-eyed and turned immediately to run out the door. “Where is the baby?” Jessie asked the girl standing beside her mother’s bed.

  “He’s outside wi’ Jasper and Jerusha,” she responded. “They are the twins. Both are eight.”

  As Jessie examined the mother, Martha had been looking about the one-room house noting what kind of work needed to be done. At the back of their minds, both women were worrying and wondering about their own families—Sarah, who had just given birth, and Cindy, who would someday soon give birth. Milk fever on the frontier was a deadly matter for many new mothers. Indeed, Jessie herself had nearly been lost when Little Jessie was born.

  “The poor dear has been desperately in need of help, and none of us even knew she was having hardships,” Martha thought guiltily as she looked about the rude cabin her husband had built for his workers. “It looks like your ma has been plannin’ a garden,” she said, turning to the ten-year-old girl who was trying to be mother of the house.

  “Yeah, Ma was waitin’ for Pa to get home so he could dig up a garden spot,” Mattie said proudly. “But ever since the baby was born, Ma’s just not been able to do much.”

  “How is the baby? Has it been eatin’?” Jessie asked.

  “Ma’s been try’n to feed it but says it hurts so bad, she can’t hardly stand it,” the little girl replied. “I been trying to feed it, but we ain’t got much to do it with. Not since the milk cow died last winter. Dad butchered it, but it’s about all gone.”

  Martha lis
tened to the girl talk and was starting to feel ashamed for knowing so little about the people around her. She passed by them on her way to the store and church, but most of the time she worked in her weaving room. She knew the girl’s father was one of Seth’s drivers, and since taking over the grocery store for Priscilla and Jacob, she had spent a little time going over the store’s accounts. She found that the family had a small bill with them, but there was no sign that the bill had never been paid. As far as she knew, the father was a hardworking man, and she had never heard Seth complain about his work. Indeed, he had always seemed quite responsible with his team and wagon. If something broke, he fixed it, and when he did Seth always had paid him a little extra.

  “Can you go fetch me a bucket of water?” Jessie interrupted her musings and handed the girl a small wooden pail. With that, Martha promptly hiked toward the town well by the stable, surprised at how far it was from the houses in the village. Along the way, she was intercepted by Agnes Turner, who called out to tell her that she had completed her spinning and was ready for more wool. On her return trip, she was stopped by Greta Hamburg, who asked about the Maynards. “I been so vorried about der mudder and those chi’lun. Ist d’ere anyway I cud hep?” she offered in her faltering English.

  Martha was about to turn the woman down until she saw the children congregating in front of the small hut they called home. “Yes, there is!” she beamed. “Do you think you could fix those children a real meal? I’ll bring some ham and some flour from the store. Perhaps some ham with gravy and biscuits?”

  Greta was surprised at first, then she smiled and asked, “Do you t’ink those chil’un would like a bat in der creek before they eat? I get my Hans to lead them down with a cake of new soap. It might do dem tykes some gut to have a little fun and get clean at the same time.”

  Martha heartily agreed and arranged to run to the store as soon as she returned the water to Jessie. As she neared the house, she saw Little Jessie riding up on Rosie with young Todd clinging to her back with a grin that ran from ear to ear. As soon as Rosie was tied to the tree in front, Jessie hurried in with the ice to help her ma. “I didn’t know how big of a chunk of ice you needed, so I brought this one.” She held out a chunk that was the size of a large bowl.