When Ellen returned to Ridley she resumed spinning, knitting, sewing, and soap-making. But there was a look from people that said she had been made a mule and was brought low. Ellen appeared to them a much different girl from the one who had left. People thought she’d been done to badly by the Warren overseer, Kelly. They blamed her lack of milk on hexing or some unspeakable horror. And people knew the regrettable involuntary of it, but nevertheless they thought differently of Ellen.
The news had gone all around the barn and back and had come to Annie and Gabriel in Georgetown from the lips of Dice, a bowlegged girl who traveled a circuit with a horse doctor. This horse doctor treated animals far and wide and Dice was the doctor’s cook, bedmate, and assistant with the animals. She took considerable satisfaction in her abilities at carrying talk about the circuit. She was good at remembering and was well respected. She would tell a tale without getting partial.
What Dice told them was that Ellen had been brought back to Ridley Plantation with her head down, carrying a girl babe and pulling a nanny goat whose tits were more swollen than Ellen’s own. She had slipped into her mother’s former duties and was clinging to the child and the goat for dear life.
Ten
IN THE FIRST days after Ellen’s arrival, the occupants of the house moved around each other warily. Gabriel had never been uneasy with his sister, but she brought a baby and altered the balance of his workroom and hearth. Having Ellen in Georgetown completed a circle, but the child confused things. Nanny had embarrassed him with the facts that were known and he felt a change in his relation to Ellen. The girl sister had gone and a woman whose heart was claimed by a strange child had taken her place.
Gabriel changed his sleeping place to the back room on the second floor as his mother requested. He gave her and Ellen and the baby the attic room. Considering the propriety of one sleeping arrangement over another embarrassed him and he let his mother make the decisions in this regard.
Ellen’s arrival in Georgetown left little time for rumination. She arrived and had to get settled quickly. There was work for her to do. She began at once to cut into the backlog of knitted work caused by Annie helping with the uniforms at night.
During daylight hours, Ellen kept up the work on the knitted goods that were so highly sought at the store. As many pair of socks as could be knitted were sold to the government figures and vagabonds who now came in great numbers to the capital.
The young woman brought an inclination toward fancy patterns to the socks, scarves, and shawls. Gabriel cautioned her to maintain a plainer pattern for most. “Plain and simple, Sister. The plain and useful socks are the ones needed. There is much call for them.” Ellen preferred to embellish with intricate decoration, but she held back at Gabriel’s direction. “Produce volume rather than frippery and finery, Sister,” he said teasingly. Ellen’s skills had not diminished with doing fieldwork, but she was not as fast as she had once been. Her fingers were distracted by the demands of her babe.
Annie mused on her children and then upon Delia and the thought that this babe would follow them. They would soon press her to a baby’s tasks—holding a spool of thread or knitting. Did she belong with them? Or would some claimant come after her? Annie’s eyes dropped on the child’s head below her on the floor and she bent to shove two ringlets under the babe’s head rag.
A girl babe is yours if and until he wants her. The tough words sounded in Annie’s ears again. “You will gauge her fortune and your own by how long he keeps her and how well or ill he treats her. When the master’s done with your girl, her troubles and what’s left of your girl are yours to keep,” the Ridley midwife had said flatly. She was only telling Sewing Annie what she already knew. This was a well-worn path at Ridley Plantation.
The quartermaster drew a magnifying eyepiece from his pocket and ceremoniously examined the seams of the uniforms. He looked them over carefully—pulling an odd uniform here and there from the stacks of garments. On one coat he pulled on a loose button. Gabriel took the coat from him quickly and repaired it so swiftly that it was tight again before he’d finished saying it was loose. After his examination, Sergeant Miller looked pleased with his purchase. Gabriel was told where to deliver the uniforms and the sergeant gave him a signed paper with instructions to the paymaster for his fee. A nervous moment came between them as Gabriel’s eyes grazed the paper. He was eager to read the words, but did not want for the quartermaster to know he could decipher letters. Gabriel had a prick of nervousness about his fee. He would not be fooled or robbed! But he should be cautious. The quartermaster and the tailor exchanged glances over their deal. Gabriel thought the sergeant’s eyes were even and clear and that the man could be trusted. Sergeant Miller trusted in what he saw as well.
“Make fifty more. Drop these off and pick up more cloth and make more uniforms. Make fifty more in thirty days.”
Once again Gabriel made a pact with Daniel Joshua to transport the bolts of cloth across town. This time they felt a need to be wary. Who might know the value of the cloth? Daniel Joshua’s broad body was the sort that would discourage an opportunistic highwayman. If there were a planned attack, their wariness and craftiness might be their best defense. Thinking to discourage any kind of curious authority from uncovering the precious cargo and questioning the appropriateness of two colored men having possession of it, Annie gave up a mess of rags through which she had larded some chitterlings gone past eating and smelling high.
“Lay this upon a layer of straw and salt the cloth underneath it for to throw off the patrollers,” she said. Daniel accepted this advice as sound and followed it, layering the foul garbage above dry grass in his wagon.
“Your ma is a clever one,” he said to Gabriel. The son snorted assent and thought to himself that Daniel Joshua had yet seen little of her.
The men left the army supply office cautiously and well before dark. They regretted the wind at their back, for upon it the smelly rotten air blowing off the load went up into their noses. The odor would keep trouble back though.
Under cover of dusk, after sharing their supper, Gabriel and Daniel brought the bolts of cloth into the workroom. When all were seated around the table, Gabriel looked long at them. He pulled the bills of payment from a pouch tied under his right armpit. The money was brought forth and counted under the candlelight.
Gabriel spread the bills and offered them to his mother. She was made nervous by the gesture. She rose from her seat and fiddled at the stove for a few minutes before returning.
Gabriel gathered the money to himself and pushed several dollar bills across the table to his friend Daniel. Daniel grunted, and without looking or counting or answering, he pushed the dollars back toward Gabriel. There was no question of the outcome—that Daniel Joshua would accept the bills from Gabriel to pay for his transport. Nevertheless, the money was pushed and shoved across the table between the coffee cups and sugar bowl a few more turns until Daniel Joshua grunted again and put the bills in his pocket.
Gabriel gave the remaining money to Annie. “ ’Tis our freedom, Nanny. Keep it hid. ’Tis our freedom.”
Annie folded the money and swept it into a sack and put that inside of her bodice. As the money was off the table, the three chuckled and shook their heads from side to side. Freedom money was too serious a thing for them not to chuckle. It was all Gabriel could do not to holler. He did pound his heel on the floorboards for a number of whacks. Daniel Joshua sat quiet out of respect for his careful friends. It was all he could do not to jump up and dance a jig, for he shared their profound happiness.
Annie salted the bills next to her heart. It wasn’t yet enough to buy their freedom, but added to what was already salted the sum was well on the way toward what was needed.
Eleven
THE BRISTOLS, PROMINENT Virginia landholders, were experimenting. Rich in landholding and cash poor in the short term, they happened on the idea of raising sheep for wool on their vast acreage of languid grasses.
Through judicious
maneuvering Aaron Ridley managed to be invited to dinner on auspicious occasions at the home of the soft and lovely Violet Anne Marie Bristol. Aaron Ridley had a straightforward, healthy appearance. He had no pustules to mar his good face and his breath was fragrant, as his teeth were also good. Dressed in fashions tailored at the shop, he presented a figure of dash and charm. Though his uncle was cagey about plans for inheritance, it was generally thought that Aaron Ridley was scion of some wealth. He did warrant the consideration of Miss Bristol and family.
The elder Ridley recognized the wisdom of his nephew dining in the homes of Washington’s elite families. Jonathan Ridley’s hope was that his young nephew’s social whirl would show him to advantage and bring him to the attention of a wealthy family with a marriageable daughter. This point was a place of agreement for the two Ridley men.
Sharing brandy in his uncle’s hotel suite on a visit, Aaron ventured a bold and increasingly popular opinion expressed by his new social circle. “Sell the slaves to themselves! I advise you to take the money and get some profit from them. You run a risk that they will take a runner and you’ll end with nothing. For you will have to pay to have them recaptured. These slave catchers don’t engage cheaply. Let the slaves buy themselves and save you their trouble,” Aaron cajoled his uncle. He was energetic with his elaborate plan and he promenaded about the room making flourishes with his hands.
Aaron’s circuit brought him to his true aim in walking about his uncle’s rooms. It was Bella Strong. Aaron came primarily to look at his uncle’s mistress, the most compelling sexual being he had encountered. Jonathan Ridley was recently enamored of the dark-haired soprano and wooed her with prodigious expense and attention. The elder was happily exhibiting her to his nephew. She was beautiful, very ghostly white skinned with small touches of red-orange accent upon her lips, a thin line ringing her eyelids, and a small mole at a place high on her shoulder just beneath the base of her neck. Aaron imagined the tips of her nipples to be thusly tinted, and mused on her. Her eyes were a changeable color and went from light to dark as light reflected from her chestnut hair and was influenced by lamps about the room.
When Aaron tore his eyes off Bella Strong and spoke, his plan was simple. He declared that he had no love of the Negroes, but was thinking of the practical aspects of a manumission deal. There was cash to be had and the Negroes were nearly free in the District of Columbia as far as he could see.
“Uncle, the niggers come and go freely—as freely as birds, I tell you!” Aaron exclaimed. He continued on his point. He explained further that the infusion of cash from the sale would make a creditable investment in the scheme of the Bristols. Thus the cash would advance Aaron toward his goal of the Bristol girl.
“Uncle, the thing to fear is this: as Gabriel has risen in his own value, you must take pains he does not slip out from under his price. If he takes himself off . . .”
“If you watch that he does not, young sir!” the older man chided.
“Sir, they are not easily watched. He has a specialized skill that takes him about the town. And the women cluck about hither and yon.”
“And these hens do bother you some, sir?” Jonathan Ridley said laughingly, showing off for his lady friend at the blushing boy’s expense.
“He himself will pay you for his freedom. Let the slaves pay a top dollar for their freedom, for you’d not get top dollar for them on the market. They’re not field hands. That Gabriel is weak and worthless at a market sale.”
“Be quiet, boy!” Jonathan Ridley snapped. “I know Gabriel’s worth. You go too far to convince.”
“Field hands are most of what is wanted further south, Uncle—wanted by the traders. And the traders are taking a profit. Cut out the middleman!” Aaron spoke insistently, attempting to turn himself to the best advantage in Bella Strong’s eyes. He had practiced to persuade his uncle, for he was eager to contribute a “scheme” of some value.
“Further, sir, with the abolitionist sentiment gaining strength, there is no guarantee that the District of Columbia will remain safe or profitable for slave-owning. Yankees continue to harangue about the appropriateness of slave-owning in the nation’s capital. As if that matters! It’s getting ever easier for the Negroes to steal away. There’s a ring of white people mixing with roaming Blacks to aid runaways in this town.” Aaron finished his point with passion and a snap of his fingers. “I tell you again, sir, this tailor will slip from under his price if you do not take care.”
“Has Gabriel collected enough cash for his purchase? Where does this money come from, boy?” Ridley questioned, trying to bring Aaron down to earth.
Jonathan Ridley was indeed interested lately in securing an infusion of cash. As he was beginning to feel a sense of rising achievement, he was outgrowing the confines of his rural home. Ridley now preferred living as a town gentleman. He’d watched the popinjay cavort about the room with his ideas trying to beguile Bella. Yes, now may be the time Jonathan Ridley would liquidate assets to build his pleasures in town.
“They are calculators—all of them—they spend much time in figuring and toting up. Aye, they are limited by their race, but these are clever and cunning beasts,” Aaron told his uncle knowingly.
“Aye,” the uncle said. “Aye, and you are helpless to thwart them.” This was a constant theme running between the two.
Know all men by these presents that in consideration of the love and affection I have for my people and the payment of the sums as listed
Gabriel, the tailor = $1,000.00
Annie, the knitter and laundress = $800.00
Ellen, seamstress and knitter = $700.00
The above-mentioned were slaves belonging to Jonathan Ridley of Scottsboro, Maryland, a gentleman and landowner, and are henceforth free. The three above mentioned further agree to continue to work and operate the tailoring concern of Ridley & Ridley with 75 percent of all profits after operational expenses from commissions of said concern to be payable to Jonathan Ridley as repayment of the investment in this business. Failure to operate the business, Ridley & Ridley, shall nullify this agreement and result in the swift imprisonment of said parties.
Whereof I do affix my signature,
Jonathan Ridley
September 18, 1854
The breeze that sneaked in the window stirred the curtains and dried the bit of perspiration on Gabriel’s upper lip. It lifted the manumission paper from Jonathan Ridley’s hands. He allowed it to float to the floor as if it were the most worthless piece of parchment he’d ever put pen to. Gabriel knew it gave Ridley a satisfaction to do this, for it shone on his face. Gabriel swooped to the floor to retrieve the paper and the movement was mostly a genuflection in honor of the long struggle they’d come through—all three. He, Sis Ellen, and Nanny were free!
Jonathan Ridley brought Gabriel back to it with his reminder that the child, Delia, was still considered a Ridley slave and her freedom would have to be purchased. Gabriel assured Ridley that Sis Ellen intended to purchase the child’s freedom through her own industry at the earliest opportunity.
As Gabriel faced him with the paper dangling from his hand, Ridley walked toward his former slave. He approached close and Gabriel drew up straighter to meet him. Ridley commanded him—drilled into him with his eyes. These eyes of Ridley’s engaged Gabriel’s eyes and the pair of dark blue jewels had a hold. The former master reached suddenly and grabbed the young man’s scrotum and held the entire basket hard in his hand. The shock of it stiffened Gabriel’s whole body, but he prayed to keep his cock soft. He made himself amused like a toddling child and the moment of urgency passed.
“You’re a man, Gabriel, and hung well,” Ridley said after a moment that he held Gabriel. He released his grip but continued to keep his hand upon the frozen-still young man. “I should have kept you on the homestead to give me more pickaninnies. Instead you’ve come to the town and been spoiled. Had I planned better I could have had another sewing pickaninny—one like Sewing Annie or your Ellen.” Smiling at his
former slave, Ridley relinquished his hold and turned away.
Gabriel left the sitting room of Ridley’s apartment at the Whilton Hotel by bowing and backing away from Jonathan Ridley. He took leave in a formal, final way. Though his circumstance had changed radically, the terms of the manumission agreement also bound him to service to Ridley. He knew it plainly—soberly. But, still, it was not bondage! The three were free to plan—to look forward and to say how things could be. He and his mother and his sister had attained their freedom! It was a stumbling block pushed out of their way!
Gabriel placed the paper in his breast pocket. He walked out of the hotel and proceeded down High Street over cobblestones whose chill he felt upon the bottoms of his feet. Gabriel’s shoes were thinly soled and they allowed his feet to feel all that was beneath them. Today he relished the contact. An aroma of horse manure hung in the air. But the air was also crisp and offered some relief from the city’s myriad other stinking smells. Gabriel wanted to take off running and call out loudly. He yearned to celebrate his joy. He wanted to call out his mother’s name and Ellen’s name and his own—wanted to shout them out as loudly as possible. He wanted to toll the bells in the church tower. Think of that!
Eager to reach his home at the back of the shop, Gabriel moved as swiftly through the streets as was prudent.
Master—no, no longer. Now it was Mr. Ridley. He was just a man who had once owned Gabriel and his talents and labors and Gabriel’s mother and Sis Ellen and now they were all free of him—or nearly.
Gabriel did still feel the grip of Ridley’s hand on his meat and potatoes and knew the bond with this man was not severed. But he had wrested something—paid for and gotten something more than they’d had.
Gabriel brought a mood of alarm into the workroom when he entered. He did not speak at first, only nodded to his mother and then to Ellen. He sat and placed the parchment—the freedom papers—on the table. Annie put down a cup of coffee in front of him but did not interrupt his thoughts. She looked at his temple and noted that it throbbed. She waited to hear him speak—wanted to hear her son speak out as a free man.
Stand the Storm Page 9