The Return of the Freedom Thief

by Mikki Sadil

  “Grammy, this talk of war coming…is it serious? I mean, people from the North are going to be fighting people from the South? Maybe that’s just high talk going around.”

  She shook her head. “No, Ben, I don’t think that’s just “high talk”. Ever since some of the states seceded from the Union, war talk has grown. Lincoln seems determined that the Southern states’ sovereignty is in conflict with Federal law and authority, and he’s refusing to put up with it. So far, we’ve have seven states secede from the Union, and I’m sure more will do so before it all comes to a head. It’s bad, and I don’t see the end coming before we have a war.”

  “What does all this have to do with Pa? And how he’s treating me? I don’t see the sense of it at all.”

  “Your Pa is a dyed-in-the-wool Southerner. He’s not thinking straight, all he thinks about is higher and more and better production of our hemp crops, and he’s working these slaves harder than he ever has. They are working from daybreak to dark, and with only a very short break for lunch. He talks about the war all the time, and how he’s going to help win it. I don’t understand him anymore, Ben, nor, I think, does your ma. Laura just goes along with Tom like any good wife without a brain of her own. I wish I had put more of myself into that child when she was born, but I guess I didn’t. She doesn’t act like she has any thoughts of her own.”

  Grammy laughed, but without much humor. “She definitely isn’t like me in that respect. I have plenty of thoughts, and they sure as shootin’ don’t go along with the menfolk’s very often.”

  She shook her head, and was quiet for a moment. Finally, she sighed. “Right now, you are serving a sentence put on you by a judge, and until your Pa rescinds that, which the judge gave him the right to do, nothing between you and your parents is going to change.”

  She stood and smiled at Ben. “I’ll put some of your ma’s supper fixings on a plate, then you go on out to your room. No more fighting tonight with your pa. Tomorrow’s another day, and maybe things will be better.”

  But “tomorrow” was April 12, 1861.

  Prelude to the Civil War:

  When Abraham Lincoln took office as President of the United States on March 4th, 1861, seven Southern states, South Carolina, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas, had already seceded and had formed the Confederate States of America. These states had seized Federal property, including all forts within their borders. On April 12th, General P.G.T. Beauregard led Confederate forces against Union held Fort Sumter, which surrendered to Beauregard on April 13th. President Lincoln was determined to not only hold on to the remaining forts under Federal control, but was also determined to take back control of those held within the Confederate States. On April 15th, 1861, President Lincoln demanded all the Federal states send troops to recapture Fort Sumter and all forts held within Confederate territories, to put down any rebellion from the Southern states, and to preserve the Union intact. A total of thirteen states seceded from the Union to become part of the Confederate States of America, and the Civil War began in earnest. It became a war not only between the states but one which threw father against son, and brother against brother.

  Chapter Three:

  The Hiding Place

  After Ben left the kitchen with his supper plate, Grammy went in search of her son-in-law. She found him on the front porch with her daughter, Laura.

  She drew herself up to her full height of five feet, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her hazel eyes, so much like Ben’s, darkened as she glared at Pa.

  “All right, Tom McKenna, I have had enough of this nonsense with you and Ben. Ben is your son, he is my grandson, and this is my house, my home, my plantation. For the last nine years, you have had total control, and I’ve not said a word. But I don’t cotton to the way you’re treating Ben, law or no law. As long as I still have all my buttons, now I am saying how things are going to be around here. Ben will still work the fields, as the judge said. But he will not be subject to Samson, or anyone else among the slaves. He will have all his meals here in the house with us, and he will have his own bed, in his own room upstairs to sleep in. Is that understood?”

  “Elizabeth, you cannot do that. I have the law on my side, and Ben will do as I say. There is nothing you can do about it.” Pa shook his head at her, his face flushed with anger once again. He stood, towering over her. “You are not going to interfere with this. Ben is a thief and should be in jail. The only reason he isn’t is because he is MY son. That’s a lot of high talk coming from you, but I don’t recollect the judge saying any such thing. Just go about your knitting, and leave my business to me.”

  Grammy was not one to back down. She stared at him for a long moment, pushing a stray strand of pure white hair back into her day bonnet. Her voice was calm, but deadly quiet as she said, “Tom, I reckon you better think on what you just said. All I have to do is call the Marshal out here. This is my home, remember? You have no claim on it, not even in my will. If I want you to leave, you will leave. That’s the law, and this time, it’s on my side. Now you either ease up on Ben, or you will leave this plantation. And that’s my business.”

  She turned to her daughter. “Laura, Ben is your son, too. You had better think on this, and talk some straight talk to your husband. Otherwise, you may both be in a heap of trouble.”

  She started to leave, but looked back at Laura. “I recollect the days when you and Ben were close as two peas in a pod. He’s a boy who tried to live up to what his daddy taught him, and that was to always do what he thought was right. He did, and now he’s being punished for it. I mean what I say, Daughter. Allow that boy back into this family, or there’s going to be some serious changes made. Tomorrow’s another day, and it had better be a better day.”

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Tom McKenna pulled his horse to a halt in front of a small frame building. Its wooden walls were greyed and peeling with age and weather. The sign depicting whose office this was hung haphazardly over the far end of the porch railing. He dismounted, flipped the reins over the hitching rail, and stormed into the Marshal’s office.

  “Kendrick, I want to talk to you. Laura’s mother is creating a heap of trouble over to my place, and I want to know what you can do to stop it.”

  “Sit down, Tom. Take a load off. Take a deep breath and tell me what you are talking about. What kind of trouble could Elizabeth possibly be creating?”

  Tom refused to sit, and began pacing as he told the Marshal what his mother-in-law had said about Ben, and about having him removed from the plantation.

  “I don’t care about Ben, or what happens to him. But I want something done about the plantation. That place belongs to Laura and me, and Elizabeth is not going to throw us out.” He leaned against the front of the desk and glowered at the Marshal.

  “Tom, you’d better sit down like I said. First off, Ben is your son, and for almost a year you’ve worked him like a slave. Granted, that was the judge’s ruling, but it was also left in your hands. He is your son, for God’s sake, man! Get over that whole situation, dammit! So you lost three slaves, so what? You taught those boys of yours to do the right thing, and that’s what Ben did, at least, according to how he felt. How can you say you don’t care about him, when all he was doing was carrying out your own teachings?”

  Tom plopped down into a chair. “I don’t know. I just know when he left and took those slaves with him, something inside died.” He shook his head wearily, and scrubbed at his face with his hands.

  “But that’s not important, now. What I want to know is what you can do about Elizabeth?”

  The Marshal got up, came around the corner of the desk, and sat on the edge. “Tom, listen to me. First off, Elizabeth is right about Ben, so stop with that bear of a grudge you’ve got against him, and start treating him like the son he is. Second off, Elizabeth is right about the plantation. You’ve got no hold on the place, Tom, and you’d better recognize that straightaway. It’s her house, her fiel
ds, her slaves, and her plantation. Nowhere in any legal document does your name, or Laura’s, appear. If she wants you and Laura off, and she sends for me, I’ll come and escort you off. That’s the law. You want the law on your side about Ben, and to an extent, you got it. Well, the law in this case in completely on Elizabeth’s side, and there nothing you can do about it.”

  “Elizabeth won’t live forever. What becomes of the plantation then?”

  “I did her will, Tom, along with a lawyer friend of mine. The plantation, the house, everything Elizabeth owns goes to Ben. It’s as legal as can be.”

  Tom stared at him in disgust. “That can’t be. Ben is only fifteen.”

  Kendrick slid off the desk and went to sit behind it again. “Doesn’t matter. By law, at fourteen he was old enough to inherit. Look, Elizabeth is in charge, and you can’t change that, so you best start rethinking what you are going to do about Ben, or you’ll cook your own goose. Go on home, Tom. I got business to do. Get Ben back into the family where he belongs, and try to stay on Elizabeth’s good side.”

  He looked up, as Tom stood and knocked the chair over. “If I was you, I’d not do something like that in front of the Marshal. Now set the damn chair up right, and get out of my office. I’ve wasted enough time with you. You can’t buck the law, Tom, so get off your high horse and start treating your family right.”

  Tom glared at him, and started for the door. He stopped with one hand on the door knob. He looked back over his shoulder, and said, “Well, if I was you, I’d be looking out for the best interests of the important citizens of this town, instead of those that don’t count. After all, you got elections coming up before long. You best be thinking on that, Marshal.”

  The Marshal didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Good day, Mr. McKenna.”

  * * *

  Ben was hard at work when he heard shouts coming from the house. He threw down his hoe, and ran towards the sounds. As he drew near, Andrew and James burst out of the kitchen door, yelling and clapping each other on the back. Andrew held a newspaper in one hand, and was waving it over his head. They ran up to him, and James slapped him on the shoulder, unmindful of the whip cuts still painfully there.

  “Hey, little brother, we got us a war! Fort Sumter got shot up this morning, and them Union birds had to surrender! Isn’t that something? You gotta stay in the fields with the other slaves, but Andrew and me, we’re going to war!”

  Still yelling and crow-hopping around, the two brothers went off down the road, leaving Ben to stare after them in dismay.

  After a moment, when the sounds of their shouting had diminished, Ben went into the house, looking for his grandmother. He found her on the front porch sitting in her rocking chair, staring out over the fields.

  “Grammy, what’s going on, do you know? The boys came out whooping and hollering about them going to war. Is that true?’

  She looked up and smiled faintly. “Come and sit down, Ben. I guess it’s going to happen after all.” She picked up the paper from a table, and pointed to the headline: FORT SUMTER ATTACKED! CONFEDERATES WIN! UNION SOLDIERS SURRENDER!

  Ben shook his head. “But Kentucky isn’t going to be in any war. Aren’t we going to secede like the other Southern States have?”

  When his grandmother looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “I remember what you told me about some of the states seceding, and I read the newspapers, too. I get them from the trash after Ma throws them away. Besides, there’s a lot of grumbling going around with the slaves that even Samson doesn’t know about. They aren’t dumb, Grammy. They know there’s talk about a war coming. A war that will free them. Between that talk, and Samson using the whip on them so much, they’re going to run. I don’t know when, or how, but they want to get away from Samson, too.”

  A worried look came over Grammy’s face. “Ben, do you know if the slaves will try to escape as a group? I mean, all of them at one time? That would only mean disaster, for them and for us. Who would work the fields if that happens? Is there anything I can do to prevent that?”

  “No, Grammy, you can’t do anything. Pa has complete control over the fields, and Samson over the slaves. I don’t see as how you could do anything about that. But I don’t think there’s any kind of plan in place. They’re not all going to take off at once. But especially if this war really starts, they’re going to start leaving, one or two at a time. The slaves want to be free, it’s their right.”

  She sighed. “Governor Magoffin wants Kentucky to remain neutral, if a real war starts. But I reckon he is going to be hard put for that to happen. Being a border state, we’ll be right in the midst of all that caterwauling. There’s so much discord in the state now, with half of the people wanting to stay with our own Confederate Constitution, and the other half wanting to stay in the Federal Union. Take our family, with you and I dead set against slavery, and your pa and brothers determined to keep that institution going.”

  Ben got up and walked to the porch railing. He looked out over the plantation and at the dim outline of the forests beyond. He drew in a deep breath, catching the faint fragrance coming from the woods and the wildflowers within. He rubbed his hands up and down the white rail, feeling a warmth coming from the smooth pine wood. Absently, he wondered how much work it took the house slaves to keep this porch railing so smooth and clean when the house was so old.

  He turned back to Grammy. “What do you think Pa and Andrew and James will do, if war really breaks out?”

  “Your pa already has his head buried in the sands of slavery. He’ll work those poor people until they drop, so he can supply the troops with hemp. Your brothers probably will join up in the Army. As for your ma…well, Ben, Laura grew up in a divided house. Your grandfather was as closely involved in the institution of slavery as any man could be. I was an Abolitionist, and he knew it, but it was something never discussed between us, or with your mother. I was never able to do much for the slaves while your grandfather lived, so I’ve tried to make up for that ever since…”

  “But Grammy, all those secret trips we took when I was a kid, taking food and stuff to the slaves—didn’t you do any of those before Grandfather died?”

  “No, I didn’t. I had a group of lady friends who believed as I do, and sometimes when we met, we could all bring together food, blankets, and even some old clothes to our meetings. Then one of the slaves would come in, gather everything up, and somehow manage to get it all to the most recent runaways. Neither your grandfather nor any of the other husbands knew about this. As wives, we must follow the directions of our husbands. It’s what women today do, Ben. So as for your mother, I’m sure she will go along with whatever Tom says. Where the state of Kentucky is concerned, we’ll have to wait and see. No one seems to know just what is going to happen.”

  * * *

  Ben was marking the tracks where the new hemp plants would be put into the ground. Planting the hemp was done through the spring months of March, April, and May, and the harvesting took place in October. The harvesting was the hardest work, and took the strongest slaves, but Samson had seen to it that Ben always had to be involved.

  Now, Ben looked up from the recently tilled ground, and saw his father coming towards him. He laid down his hoe, but kept it in arm’s reach. He had no idea why his father was here, but at least he didn’t have a whip in his hand.

  Pa approached him with a frown on his face. He stood silently in front of Ben for a long moment. Ben didn’t speak.

  At last, Pa spoke. He had a look of complete distaste on his face, “Ben, your grandmother has issued an ultimatum. I have spoken to the Marshall, and for some unbelievable reason, he has agreed with her. So I am here to tell you to clean up, then come into the house for supper. I will have more to say at that time.” He turned, and stomped through the recently cut rows of hemp without giving Ben a chance to speak.

  * * *

  When Ben came into the kitchen, the rest of the family was already seated. No one spoke to him, although Grammy smiled
at him. He pulled out his chair, and sat down. The air was full of the aroma of the fried ham, mashed potatoes, and boiled onions and carrots that Ma was passing around. By the time all the plates were filled, still not one word had been spoken. At last, Ben put down his fork, and looked directly at his father.

  “All right, why am I here?”

  Pa let out a very heavy sigh. “It seems your grandmother has issued an edict, and that is you are now supposed to be treated as a member of this family. You threw that privilege away when you became a thief, but I guess that doesn’t count any more. So, Benjamin, from tonight on, you will have your room back, and you will take all your meals with the family. But during the day, you will still work in the fields along with the other slaves. You will work as hard as they do, and you will work the same hours. The only exception is meal time. Do you understand?”

  Ben shrugged. “Sure, I understand, Pa. Nothing much has changed, has it? Now I get to eat here in the house with four people who won’t speak to me, and sleep in my own room. But you all still hate me, is that right?”

  Pa picked up his fork and put a piece of ham in his mouth. Still chewing, he said, “You made the bed, now you lie in it.”

  * * *

  A week later, Ben was upstairs in his room washing up for supper, when he heard heavy hoof beats coming up the front road. They stopped at the hitching rail in front of the house, and a loud voice began calling for his father. Ben stepped away from his wash basin and went to his open window.

  “McKenna! Hey, McKenna, you in there?” The voice was rough and loud, but seemed cultured.