by Vicky Saari
Jessie took the ice and placed it in the basin of water that she had been using to sponge the prostrate woman. “We need to get her fever down, and then we need to clear away some of the milk that has settled in her chest. That’s why it is so painful when the baby tries to suckle. The ice will relieve some of the pain,” Jessie explained for her own benefit as well as her daughter’s. “Why don’t you bring the baby in, and we can see if we can get it to help?”
Young Jessie had heard the older women talk about “milk fever,” but this was the first time she had ever seen it. “While I was down by the springhouse, I brought along a jug of fresh milk and cream for the kids,” she told her ma.
Outside, Martha was scurrying back to the store. Hans Hamburg had just arrived and was asking the children if they would like to go to the creek with him. Greta had armed him with squares of cloth and a cake of her freshly made lye soap. Considering this was something new for them all, it did sound like fun, but they weren’t sure if they should leave their ma. Hans responded by telling them their ma was being cared for by all the ladies, and that when they got back, his wife was going to have a dinner ready for them and their mother. When viewed in this light, the children, including two-year-old Tolbert, gleefully followed him to the stream, where he proceeded to demonstrate how to use the new cake of soap. Jerusha and Abigail were enthralled with the bubbles they made. The boys, however, weren’t very excited by the soap. But they did enjoy playing in the water and getting wet all over. As each ablution was completed, Hans handed them a cloth to help them sop up the water and let them dry off in the air as they walked back to the Hamburgs’ house. Matilda was nearly ready for them as they began to settle on the grass around the modest house. There was not enough room for all of them inside, and she wondered to herself how so many people could live in just two small rooms.
Maddox had clamped onto his mother’s breast the moment they lay him beside her. As he suckled, Jessie stroked the mother’s breast in a downward motion with a cloth dampened in the ice water to hasten the flow of the milk. “I think it’s beginning to work,” Jessie and Martha both spoke at the same time. For the first time since she had arrived, the older Jessie was able to relax. She sat on the stoop in the doorway to the house. She knew that the most important thing was to get the milk flowing again. She also remembered when her own daughter was born and how she was unable to suckle her own child. This reminded her of the young mother, who was now her daughter-in-law, and how she had taken Little Jessie to her own breast and had suckled her side by side with her son, Brad.
As she sat and listened to Martha and Little Jessie while they rustled about inside the cabin, cleaning and clearing things away, she saw Seth in the distance pulling his wagon to the front of the store. She realized then that he had no way of knowing where his wife was and softly called Martha to the door. “Oh dear!” she exclaimed. “I bet he and Luke are starved. I haven’t even made us dinner.”
“Why don’t you go on ahead home, and I’ll stay here with Mrs. Maynard,” Jessie suggested to Martha. She then turned to her daughter and made the same offer. “I think I should stay for the night, and by morning we will know how things are going to go,” she told Little Jessie.
Across the grassy street, she saw the Maynard children congregating in front of the Hamburg house. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, she thought. Then another thought struck her. These people had been here for two years, and she knew little about them. She watched Jessie and Rosie riding away and saw them stopping at Zeke’s house. “I guess she’s gotta spread the word,” she smirked to herself. Moments later, both Zeke and Lucy came strolling down the street. When she satisfied their curiosity and interest in the situation, they wandered over to the Hamburg house to see if there was some way they could help.
Agnes Turner had also been watching all of this activity and could not contain herself any longer. She strolled over to the Hamburgs’. By sundown, the neighbors had divvied up the children amongst themselves and arranged to keep them in their homes for a few days. At least until the mother was up and able to care for them. Hopefully, the father would be home by that time. Neither Todd nor Mattie was willing to stay away from home, not even for the night. Instead, they returned to their own home and spent the rest of the night helping Jessie with their mother. Soon after sundown, both were out cold, lying on pallets on the far side of the room. Meanwhile, Jessie occupied the only chair in the house as she sat beside the mother’s bed. For the time being, the baby was satisfied, the mother was sleeping, and all was well.
Hans and Greta watched the chubby two-year-old, Tolbert, sleeping soundly on the quilt they had spread on the floor for a pallet. “How goes it with you, Greta?” Hans inquired with worry in his eyes. He hoped she hadn’t done too much. He knew in his heart that his wife could not bear to lose another child. She needed all the rest she could get. He wondered if he might talk to the Hogarth lady and see if she could help his wife.
At the Turner house, four-year-old Abigail and six-year-old Joe Jr. were winding down and preparing to go to sleep. Jasper and Jerusha, the twins, went home with the schoolteacher and blacksmith.
Lucy and Zeke spent most of the evening talking with the older children and trying to answer their myriad questions as best they could. Lucy was worried about sleeping arrangements, as they had no extra blankets for bedding. While Zeke kept the children busy, she excused herself and went across to the inn, where she asked her sister, Lucinda, for help. When Lucinda learned of the children’s plight, she suggested that since they had no lodgers for the night, that they should stay at the inn. Considering how nervous the children were at the prospect of spending the night with their schoolteacher, the idea of staying the night in an inn became a thrilling adventure. Neither of them had ever spent the night in an inn. Shortly after sundown, all of the Maynard children were bathed, fed, and bedded down, leaving the mother free to concentrate on her recovery.
Every few hours, Jessie rose from the doorway and swabbed the woman with ice and began to brew a broth from some of the leftover ham that Greta Hamburg had brought over. She had also brought with her a few root vegetables that she had left over in the cellar Hans had dug for her the summer before. As the late spring morning began to dawn, the mother broke out into a sweat, and her delirium seemed to be easing. It was a good thing because her chunk of ice was quickly dissolving. Three times during the night, Jessie had swabbed Sylvia’s breasts with icy cloths and put the wee babe against its mother, where it began to suckle.
About daybreak, Sylvia awoke and began muttering about her children. Her muttering stirred Jessie awake just in time to hear her ask: “Are my kids okay?”
Jessie smiled and carried a cup of the thick broth she had made from the ham and roots. Sylvia was still too weak to drink it on her own, so Jessie carefully spooned it to her a few sips at a time and tried to reassure her that they were being cared for. “I hope you ain’t lettin’ that squaw get around my kids or that half-breed of hers at the inn,” she snipped. “I don’t want them gettin’ scalped or massacred like my grandma did,” she said bitterly.
Her words struck Jessie like a slap in the face. She hoped it was the delirium speaking, but she feared it wasn’t. Of course, she had heard stories of massacres along the frontier when she was young, but that had been more than twenty years ago. Though she had to admit that there was a time that living on the frontier in Indiana had made her nervous. “They took my grandma up into the Ohio country, and they said her unborn baby had been cut out of her and boiled.” She began to rise up in her bed and was attempting to get her feet to the floor. She did so without realizing her baby was lying beside her and Jessie jumped to grab the child before it fell to the floor. For the first time in her life, Jessie wasn’t sure what to say or do. She had not heard so much bile since she left Virginia, sixteen years before.
“I know who you’re talking about, and I can tell you that I owe that w
oman my life. I’d have been dead long ago if it wasn’t for her.” Jessie spoke in a firm voice that she had never used before. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here to help you now.”
Sylvia attempted to stand but was too weak to do anything more than flop back onto her bed. By this time, Todd and Mattie were awake and had taken the baby from Jessie. “Go on home, Mrs. Hogarth. We’ll take care of momma from here,” they said. Not knowing what else to do, Jessie gathered up her bags and left instructions for the children to finish giving their mother the stew she had made. She would go ’round and tell the neighbors to bring the children home later in the day. “If you think she is going to be strong enough to look after them,” she said. With that, she turned and began walking toward home.
*****
For the next several days, Hogarth was content to live in the past and leave his workmen alone. He cherished the time he’d spent with Jessie and looked forward to returning to her time. Exhausted from her vigil at the Maynards, Jessie had dropped onto the stoop of her own doorway and leaned her head against the doorjamb, just to rest for a few minutes, and had poured her heart out to no one in particular. But Hogarth had heard it all.
Chapter 10
“Pa, do ya think George is well enough to come to the house for breakfast, or should I take it to him?” young Jessie inquired. “We’re just havin’ squirrel gravy and biscuits.”
Caleb thought for a minute and offered to go and invite the man in. “I’ll go. I need to talk to him anyway,” he replied.
George sat on the stoop in the doorway to the cabin, studying the land about him. The truth was he’d kind of gotten to daydreaming about what kind of place he’d like to have when he got to Canada. He also thought about the Hogarths and how they had taken him in and cared for him just when he’d almost given up hope. He didn’t like feeling obligated to people, least of all white folks. It was at that moment that his thoughts were interrupted by Caleb as he approached from the house. “How’s the leg today, George?” Caleb asked. “Mittens asked me to see if you felt like coming to the house for breakfast.”
George was somewhat surprised by the invite; he’d never set down to dinner with white folks. If he was honest with himself, he really wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Still, he had no reason to distrust these people. Miss Martha had said he could, and he had seen how they’d treated that Injun woman when she came to visit. He hobbled to his feet and studied the intense look on Caleb’s face. “Don’t need to carry food all the way out here,” he thought aloud. “I guess I could come to the house.” He was surprised when Caleb handed him a forked tree branch to use for a walking stick to the house. He’d whittled it the night before while Jessie was at the Maynards’ place.
“What happened last night?” George asked, unable to control his curiosity. Caleb and Little Jessie both began talking at once, and it took George a few minutes to figure out what they were talking about. From that point on, their conversation meandered around a variety of subjects as the three became better acquainted.
“I’m the one who found you,” young Jessie beamed with pride. “I’m sure glad we got there when we did,” she added. Then she laughed. “I ain’t never seen a real darkie afore.”
“I’s glad ye were there too,” George responded, somewhat embarrassed. “I ’uz never so glad to see a wild hog in my life as I was when I saw that one come charging at those dogs and those slave hunters. I ran as far as I could up the creek, hopin’ they’d lose my scent.” He then turned to Caleb and said, “I appreciate what you all did to get rid of those men. I’m mighty grateful.”
“I’m just grateful that you’re okay,” Caleb responded solemnly. “Now what was it you was tellin’ us about getting to Canada?”
George told them about the rumor that was going through the slave quarters in the South about how England had outlawed slavery and how any slave who could get to Canada was going to be a free man. He also told about the rumors that some white folks in the North were actually willing to help them out. Then he told them about the North Star and how the runaway slaves should follow the star to freedom.
None of this was new to Caleb and his daughter; they had heard it from George when he was talking to Martha Hodges. “Seth Hodges said he’s goin’ to Madison to see if he can learn more about this here North Star business. We told him we’d look after ya until he got back,” Caleb reassured. His thoughts turned serious, but before he could speak what was on his mind, Jessie stormed down the stairs, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the look on her face.
“Morn’n.” She huffed into the room, paying no mind to the darkie sitting at her table.
“Can I fix you a place, Ma? There’s still some squirrel and gravy left,” young Jessie offered. “We figured you’d be sleep’n in.”
“Come to think of it, I am hungry, but I’m not sure if I could taste anything right now,” her mother grumbled. She dropped heavily into one of the chairs Caleb had built for her soon after they had moved into their new house. Instead of calming her down, her short nap seemed to have charged her. “You would never believe what that woman said to me after I worked with her all night to help her and her baby.”
She watched as her daughter fixed her a plate and set it in front of her. She picked up her wooden spoon and began to stir the gravy around in her plate as she told of the proceedings of the night before. “There I was feelin’ bad ’cause I’d never really got to know the woman. Now I wish I hadn’t!”
Three pair of eyes sat in stunned silence as they listened to her account. For a moment, no one spoke; then George, sadly, without thinking, said, “I heard that kinda talk all my life. That’s why I wants to get someplace else.”
Young Jessie choked back a tear as she spoke. “George, I think you better stay away from the town. No tellin’ what people might do. Also, I’m thinkin’ we ought to find you a new name, at least until it’s safe for you to be on your own. Do we know somebody who could make you a set of free papers?”
Caleb, Jessie, and George stared in wonderment at the young girl, who reacted defensively. “Well, I’m the one who found him. I’m kinda responsible for him!”
George’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion while father’s and mother’s eyes met across the table. They grinned slyly. Both were proud of their daughter’s thinking.
“Well, George, who do you want to be?” Caleb said with a grin as everyone began talking at once. Each had their own ideas, and the conversation barreled on for several minutes until George raised his hand to gain their attention.
“I know. Since the princess here found me in the weeds along the creek, why not call me Moses?” he offered solemnly. “I know I ain’t no babe, but I was as weak as one when she found me.”
It took a few moments for the idea to sink in, and soon they were all laughing and calling him by his new name. “Ma, why don’t you go rest a spell while I clean up and get our noon meal started? Dad and Moses can do whatever it is they plan to do,” young Jessie suggested as she began clearing the table.
“Before you go, I need to check your leg, Moses,” Jessie interrupted. “You shouldn’t really do too much on it yet.”
“Your man fixed me up this morning,” Moses bragged as he held up his one crutch. “But you can take a look at it outside.”
Jessie carried her bag outside and waited while Moses balanced himself against a fence post and pulled up his pant leg. “Looks like that poultice did its job,” she spoke. “I don’t see any sign of infection. But I’ll put a clean dressing on it before you two get started.”
Ten minutes later, Jessie was on her way back to her bed. Young Jessie was filling the dishpan, and the men were sauntering toward the field where Caleb had been planting corn for the past two weeks. “How long is it since you had rain?” Moses inquired.
“Too long,” said Caleb thoughtfully. “The ground is getti
n’ so hard I can hardly stir it around.”
Moses shook his head. “I ain’t surprised. There weren’t much water in that creek I come up, and I picked a blade of grass yesterday, and it was plumb brittle when I tried to chew it. How’s about yer spring?” he asked.
Before Caleb could answer, he was interrupted by Jed as he came down the hill from his place. “How’s Ma?” he inquired. “She left the house so fast last night that we didn’t have time to talk. I took Sarah up the stairs, and when I came back down, Ma was gone. Abner said a woman in the village was sick.”
“Yea, it seems like that Maynard woman with all those little kids has milk fever. Your ma was there all night tendin’ to her.” Caleb went on to tell about all that had transpired. “Your ma wasn’t very happy when she came home. I guess four of the kids spent the night at the inn with John and Cindy. The rest spent the night with the Turners and the Hamburgs. God only knows what will happen if the mother finds out.”
Jed listened in surprised disbelief to the story his pa told him. “I better go talk to Zeke and find out what’s goin’ on.”
Before Jed could leave, Caleb stopped him and told him about George’s new name, Moses, and reminded him to be careful about what he might say in the village. “By the way, how’s Sarah and the baby?” he said almost as an afterthought.
“I left Abner and Brad in charge of breakfast. Sarah says she’ll be back in action tomorrow. She’s had all the bed rest she can handle. As for the baby, she has healthy lungs and an even healthier appetite,” Jed joked as he started toward Sethsburg. “By the way, Abner sent me over because he wanted to talk to you.”