Jewel of Promise

by Marian Wells

  “But that’s the end of the gamble,” Alex said shortly. “From here on out we have to play it very safe. We can’t risk problems; the lives of the slaves depend on our caution and good judgment.”

  Alex sloshed the coffee around in his cup while Olivia controlled her urge to remind him of the cooling porridge.

  Finally Mike spoke up. “Alex, you and Olivia have been talking about visiting your folks in South Carolina. How would it be if you go now?”

  “What would you do?”

  “Spend the winter here. Get the repairs made, and be ready to take the Awl home around the first of April.”

  “We could meet you back here. The Lord willing, we could continue on with our plans. Jake, what do you and Tim want to do? You’re both freedmen.”

  “I want to stick close to Mike here. The South’s kinda upset right now, and I don’t wanna be sent down the river.” He paused. “Maybe we all could find jobs for the spell we’ll be here.”

  Alex looked at Olivia. “How about it? Ready to go meet my parents?”

  She nodded. “We’re close to Natchez. Perhaps when we come back we can visit my mother and father.”

  Alex got to his feet. “Come on, crew. We’re going to have to get this boat into port as soon as possible.”

  ****

  The next morning Olivia began to pack while Mike and Alex headed for the nearest shipping office.

  The old gray-haired seaman confirmed Alex’s guess. He listened as Alex described the problem; shaking his head, he said, “I can get you a boiler, but it’ll take a month or so.”

  When Mike and Alex returned to the boat, Olivia was standing on deck, waiting beside her packed trunk. Alex looked from the trunk to his wife’s face. “Olivia, you must have guessed correctly. I have the train tickets in my pocket.”

  At the train station in Vicksburg, Alex pulled out their tickets and said, “It’s unfortunate we didn’t discover our problem in Memphis. We’re going to have to backtrack to Corinth, Mississippi and then turn east. We’ll cross Alabama and Georgia before we reach the coast and Charleston.”

  The shriek of the train whistle pierced the morning air. The platform where they stood began to tremble. They turned to watch the dark cloud of smoke above the trees. Alex pulled Olivia’s arm through his and smiled down at her. “I trust you know about trains in the southeast. Before this trip is over, you will have grown very weary of changing trains and mopping soot from your face.”

  As she wrinkled her nose, he added, “But you’ll have the desire of your heart—my constant and undivided attention.”

  As the train shuddered and steamed into silence, she watched the men back wagons of wood and coal toward the locomotive. Turning to Alex, she murmured, “Well, I do appreciate your total attention, but I’m beginning to wish that I had learned to knit. Will it take forever to get to Charleston?”

  “At least. When the trip becomes too monotonous, we’ll stop and do some sightseeing.”

  ****

  When they reached Atlanta, Alex decided they needed a sightseeing break. That first morning they awakened refreshed by a gentle, rose-perfumed breeze lifting lace curtains to invade their hotel room. Olivia sat up and breathed deeply. “Oh, this is wonderful! I’d forgotten such air existed.”

  “Coal and wood smoke does that,” Alex murmured. “But don’t you want to sleep longer? We can smell the roses later. I promise you, if there’s anything worth seeing in Atlanta you will have seen it before we get back on the train.”

  She turned from the window. “You can sleep; I intend to enjoy every minute of this. Shall I bring you a rose and a croissant when I return?”

  “You win.” His grin disappeared as he sat up.

  “What is it, Alex?”

  “I’ve been awake for an hour, thinking about the talk we’ve been hearing on the train. I had the distinct impression every statement began with ‘They say in Charleston….’ Most certainly they didn’t seem too concerned about having Lincoln as President, neither did they seem to think Buchanan was doing such a poor job.”

  “What about the old gentleman who said the South will never allow the humiliation and degradation of having Lincoln inaugurated as president? The people around him scarcely looked his direction.”

  “I had the feeling they’ve heard that statement before.”

  “But not one of them seemed to have considered the implications of war. The gentleman was shocked when I suggested war carries a terrible price.” She paused.

  “Think about this pleasant place being fired upon,” he mused.

  “Fired upon? Oh, Alex, how horrible!”

  Olivia went to the window, pulled aside the lace and leaned against the window frame. Deep crimson roses covered the trellis just below their window. Beyond the garden hedge she could see the street lined with stately houses, shielded by their secluded gardens. Brick, gleaming white paint, or old stone stamped them with character. Olivia reacted with a familiar pang of homesickness. It could have been a street borrowed from Natchez.

  “It is beautiful,” she murmured, “but a beauty existing within bounds. I cannot imagine a calf eating petunias like they do in Pennsylvania, nor can I imagine a crinoline in a corn patch.” She turned to look at Alex. “At home in Mississippi, there is this same lovely order. Alex, what would happen to these people if there were war? It would be shattering. Given their gentle life, could they survive?”

  Alex came to stand beside her. His eyes were troubled as he looked at the scene. “I hope and pray it doesn’t happen. If it does, I pray the people—all of us—survive to be stronger than ever before.” He turned, put his arms around her, and pulled her close. “Have we changed this much—enough to make comparisons and worry about the differences?”

  She leaned back and ran her hands across his bare shoulders. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I am certain of one thing—the longer we are married, the more I realize how impossible it would be to live without you.”

  Chapter 5

  When the train finally reached Charleston, Olivia and Alex stepped off to find that the last hint of sunshine and roses had disappeared. Olivia looked at the sodden gardens, the gray skies and drizzle. “Finished,” she whispered as she looked around. “All the glory of autumn has ended.”

  Alex looked down at her. “My dear, I’ve just changed our plans.”

  “Why is that?” She looked up into his troubled frown.

  “I’ve been thinking about all the months that lie ahead. As I’ve told you, Father and I didn’t leave each other with good feelings.” Alex spoke hesitantly. “He knows we’re coming if he has received my letter, but I have no idea how he will receive us.” He clasped her hand.

  “It’s less than a week until Christmas,” he continued. “We could hire a hack to take us out to the plantation immediately if necessary, but I’d rather have this time with you before we go. Do you mind if we just stay here for several days? We’ll rest and shop for Christmas gifts.”

  “Are you thinking Lincoln’s election will complicate matters between you and your father?”

  “I anticipate it will.”

  “Then let’s stay. I am tired, and this storm is miserable.”

  Alex beckoned to the hack waiting just beyond the garden. Olivia drew her cloak tighter. “It is fortunate that Pennsylvania’s weather forced us to come with heavy clothing.”

  As the cabbie loaded their baggage, he listened to their conversation regarding things back in Pennsylvania. Looking at Olivia, he said, “You from the North? Y’all, with your Southern accent! Surprising they didn’t run y’all out of black Republican country. Aye, and I think it must be very good to be at home again. Now, will y’all be staying at the Wayfarer Inn? I’ll carry you and the missus right there.

  “Y’all gotta good view of the bay and the forts, not that there’s any action right now. They say Major Anderson will be dining Christmas Day with some of Charleston’s best. Good of them to befriend the chap. But, you know, he’s So
uthern. I suppose they’re hoping he’ll choose the right side.”

  He hesitated and eyed Alex, who replied, “I haven’t heard any South Carolina news for the past month. Since we have been traveling I haven’t had opportunity to scout out good newspapers.”

  The cabbie leaned forward. In a whisper, his eyes sparkling in delight, he advised, “Y’all just sit tight. We may have some very good news for you in a day or so. Now, let’s get you settled at the Inn.”

  As the cabbie deposited them at the front door of the Inn, he whispered to Alex, “I’ll give y’all a hint of things to come. On December 8th a guard was placed over the United States Arsenal right here in Charleston. They were preventing the transfer of ammunition to Fort Moultrie.”

  “They?”

  “I supposed you’d seen the soldiers marching around Charleston. Been here since the eleventh of the month. South Carolinian, of course. ’Nough said for now. Hey, buddy, if ya need a ride, call on old Mac.”

  As they followed the bellhop into the Inn, Olivia whispered, “Alex, tell me, what are those blue things everyone is wearing? It appears to be a feather emblem.”

  Alex looked and his jaw tightened. “I’m not certain. But let’s discuss it later. I wish I could find some newspapers!”

  After the door closed behind the bellhop, Olivia turned to Alex. “I feel completely in the dark! Alex, we’ve no idea what has been going on here. And I want to know why, even on the train, every question you asked was answered with blank looks and yawns. Is it possible the people are unaware too?”

  “Did you notice the absence of national newspapers as we traveled? The small town tabloids carried only local gossip. And the blue feathers are called cockades. I understand they were the symbol of nullification in the thirties. Back then the North gave in to South Carolina’s demands.”

  “Is it possible South Carolina is having these ideas again?” Olivia sighed and moved around the room. “Well if nothing else is accomplished, we’ll go back to Pennsylvania knowing much more about the feelings of the people in the South.”

  ****

  In the morning, a key turning in the lock awakened Olivia. Blinking in the pallid light of another rainy day, she watched Alex come into the room, drop his coat in the corner and spread several damp newspapers to dry. She sat up, pulled both pillows behind her back and snuggled the comforter beneath her chin.

  “Newspapers! I didn’t even know you had gone.”

  “You were asleep,” he murmured, not looking up from the newspapers.

  “What did you find out?”

  “Senator Wigfall of Texas made a speech in the Senate, announcing that the Union would be dissolved; the eight cotton states would secede followed by Virginia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Maryland; and that Washington would become the capital of this Southern confederacy. In addition he proclaimed he owed allegiance not to the United States, but to his own state.”

  “That is unbelievable!” Olivia gasped. “Oh, Alex, how could a United States senator say such things?” She stopped laughing when she saw his face. “Alex, are you thinking the South is seriously considering secession? Do you suppose that cabbie last night was right?”

  “Possibly. Olivia, I think it would be a good idea to have breakfast downstairs. Perhaps we can find interesting table companions and get a better idea of what’s going on.”

  “I’ll hurry.”

  The dining room was empty. The waiter took them to a table close to the windows. With a smile, he said, “You will have an interesting scene to watch. May you enjoy your breakfast. I appreciate the opportunity to serve honeymooners.”

  After eating, Olivia smiled at Alex and said, “We may get our honeymoon yet. At least the waiter thinks we are newlyweds.”

  Alex lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Does that help the image?”

  “Alex, the rain has stopped; look at the people on the streets…. Do you hear church bells?”

  “Church bells midweek? We have to see what the excitement is all about.”

  When Olivia and Alex left the Inn, the church bells were still tolling at intervals. The rush of people past the dining room window had slowed, but the sound of excited voices continued. They joined the crowd moving toward the center of the city.

  A group of young men passed, calling back. “If you’re going to the convention hall, you’d better hurry, or you’ll miss it!”

  A white-haired gentleman drew even with them and Alex turned. “Sir, we are visitors to the city. What is the excitement?”

  The man stopped and looked at them. Olivia could see the flash of fire in his eyes as he spoke to Alex. “The South Carolina Convention has this day settled the affair once and for all, the durn fools. They signed secession papers. South Carolina is no longer a part of the United States of America. They stand on their own—proud and cocky.” He shook his head.

  “Why the bunch in control of the state offices couldn’t back down and give a bit, I don’t know. Won’t be celebrating when the cold facts hit them. It’s one thing to be a spoiled young’un, but it’s quite another to be a cocky punk trying to whip the biggest kid on the block.”

  “You don’t support the cause?”

  “I own slaves whom I intend to free when I die. Don’t support the cause when it’s apt to rip the Union apart.” His piercing eyes were calm now, nearly thoughtful as he said, “Don’t claim to have all the answers to life, even to knowing the Lord’s will. Seems we’d come closer to pleasing Him if we’d have a little give and take.”

  They watched him swing his cane and hurry down the street. Alex said, “It’s possible Father is in town. I’ll send a note around to his club.” He pulled Olivia’s hand through his arm and they quickened their steps as someone handed Alex a leaflet. The people ahead of them were turning toward the city park.

  “I hear a band playing,” Olivia murmured. “And look at the crowd. All of Charleston must be here.”

  Alex glanced at her. “According to this circular, the speaker is an editor from New Orleans.” They moved closer to a man in a frock coat who was waving his arms.

  “That black Republican Lincoln didn’t win fairly and honestly, he was a pawn of the abolitionists. And I tell you, my brother Southerners, one vote cast for Lincoln is a deliberate, cold-blooded insult and outrage. In this election, we have been slapped in the face over and over. We shall not stand for it. I assure you that my state, as well as all the other cotton states, will join you in withdrawal from a Union which has shackled our necks.”

  It was afternoon by the time Olivia and Alex left the park. Olivia’s mind was reeling with the statements she had been hearing: “We South Carolinians relish the life before us. We are free forever of the black Republicans, the dominion of suppression. We are free people at last!”

  Alex spoke softly. “Olivia, this building just ahead is the club to which Father belongs. I want to leave a note; maybe he will be here sometime during the week—if he isn’t here now.”

  As they continued down the street, Olivia asked, “Is your father a member of the state convention?”

  “Only if it’s happened since I’ve been away from South Carolina. But that wouldn’t surprise me. Father owns a great deal of land hereabout. Further south he owns rice plantations, in addition to the home acres just out of Charleston. He calls Shadylane home.” He gave her a quick grin. “In the summer it isn’t shady enough. But the rice plantation is fever country. The whites stay out of the area during the summer.”

  He read the question in her eyes. “Yes, he loses several slaves every summer, and that doesn’t include the slaves nearly ruined by the heat and fever.”

  “It makes my father’s cotton plantation seem like a toy.” She glanced at him. “But bad things happen there, too.” She took a deep breath, smiled, and added, “Let’s walk along the shore road. I need to clear my mind.”

  The late afternoon mists were moving inland with the gentle wind. “How about going out to this point?” Alex nodded his he
ad toward the embankment. Beyond the railing, the land sloped sharply. Tucking Olivia’s hand under his arm, he pulled her close. “That distant spot must be Fort Sumter. And this little fort with the island behind it is Fort Moultrie. Sounds as if there’s a chance of confrontation. According to the newspaper, South Carolina has made it clear that she thinks the Union will be happy to turn these forts over to her. There’s also a fortification off Florida. But if South Carolina has much influence, I suppose she’ll pull Florida out of the Union.”

  “The speaker this afternoon indicated that all of the South has been waiting only to see the direction the election would go. We’ve heard some very strong statements against Lincoln, but surely he can’t be as bad as Buchanan.”

  “Buchanan is very pro-South; that doesn’t make him bad in the eyes of the Southerners.”

  Olivia tucked her hand in Alex’s and they walked back to the Inn. There was a note from Alex’s father. “He will escort us to dinner at the club. He’ll be here at seven. Come along, sweetheart; you’ll want to rest before meeting my father.”

  Chapter 6

  “I’m glad I included this dress at the last minute,” Olivia chattered as she turned in front of the mirror. “Though why I had the impulse, I’ll never know. Probably because it was too pretty to leave home. Certainly one doesn’t wear a dress like this when one is cooking for the—” Olivia hesitated and added, “People.” She turned to Alex with a swift bow, spreading the dark green velvet skirt.

  “It makes your skin even more beautiful,” Alex murmured as he bent to kiss her cheek. “And it makes me regret not having you all to myself this evening.” He watched her pin the brooch to the low neckline of her dress.

  “You know I’m very nervous about meeting your parents.”

  “Fortunately Father roars only at me. He’ll be a perfect gentleman. In addition, he’s a pushover for a beautiful woman.” He touched the brooch and she watched his smile fade.

  “Alex, what is it?”

  “The gold against the onyx. The dark onyx makes the gold seem even more delicate. Will the gold endure?”