The Return of the Freedom Thief

by Mikki Sadil

  The Major laughed. “Mister McKenna, the Thoroughbred horse was bred for speed, as you well know, and that’s what these horses will be used for. They are not going to be war horses, as generally defined. They will be used in the Confederate Message Service, as they will be able to outrun even the trains, since most of the tracking will no doubt be damaged or even destroyed before this is all over.”

  He paused for a moment, then continued. “Besides, sir, this is actually not a request. I am authorized to confiscate both the hemp fields and your breeding and training stables if I have to. As far as the horses are concerned, my men who are good with horses will be the ones to be stationed here, and will oversee everything that goes on with your training schedule.”

  He smiled at Pa. “So you see, Mister McKenna, it is a far better deal for you to cooperate, than not.”

  Before Pa could respond, the Major stood and gestured to his men. “We shall take our leave, now, and return within three days for your answer. Thank you for the morning refreshments, and I bid you good day, sir.”

  With that, and a farewell bow to Pa by the three other officers, they turned about briskly, strode out of the parlor and out of the house.

  Ben waited until he heard Pa leave the parlor and head back to the kitchen before he left his hiding place and returned to his room. The secret place under the stairs appeared to be secure, and what he had just heard had given him something else to think about.

  * * *

  A few days later, Ben went up to his grandmother’s room, just before supper. Grammy looked up from her delicate crocheting, and smiled. “Ben! How did you know I was just thinking about you? Come in, and sit a spell with me.”

  He kissed her on the cheek, and sat down in the chair next to her. “Grammy, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few days. I’ve decided what to do in this war.”

  “Oh? And what might that be?” Grammy put her crocheting down carefully, and studied her grandson.

  “I’m going to be a spy for the Union Army.”

  “What? Ben, you can’t be serious about this.” Grammy frowned. “Listen to me, Ben. Spying is not something to be entered in casually or lightly. You can’t just decide one day, ‘I’m going to be a spy.’ There is certainly much more to do with it than that. Besides, how in the world would you accomplish this?” She shook her head, worry lines forming in her face. “No, I cannot stand behind you on this, my dear. It is foolish, and foolhardy. I can’t imagine where you even got this idea.”

  Ben stood and began to pace restlessly. “Grammy, look. I’ve been overhearing a lot of what’s been going on with Pa, and I…”

  “Really? And how did you do that, when you were supposed to be out in the fields?” Grammy interrupted him. “Anyway, what do you mean by ‘what’s been going on with Pa?’ Just what has been going on with Tom?”

  Ben sat back down and told her about the secret place under the stairs, where he could see and hear but not been seen himself. He described the meeting with both the Union Colonel and the Confederate Major.

  “The Major said Pa had a high name for himself, so that probably means more Confederates will be coming to talk to him. When that happens, I can hear what is said, write it down, and then give it to a Union officer. I’ll be perfectly safe, Grammy, I can see and hear into the parlor, but Pa will never know I’m anywhere around.”

  Grammy was silent. She studied her grandson for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “I can see you are very serious about this. However, it seems to me you have not given enough thought to this just yet. The Union Army is not just down the road apiece, Ben. How are you going to get this information you think you will learn to them? Who will you give it to, and why should they believe you, a mere boy? And a Confederate boy, at that. How…”

  Ben interrupted. “Grammy, why are you saying all this? You know I’m not a ‘mere boy,’ and you certainly know I have no alliance with the Confederacy. If I was smart enough at thirteen to get my friends out of slavery and to the Ohio River, surely I’m smart enough at fifteen to get Confederate information to the Union Army. I have to do something in this war, and it’s not going to be with the Confederacy. I think you’d know that, Grammy.” He frowned, and his voice had a harsh note in it that he had never used with his grandmother before.

  Grammy shook her head. “I’m just trying to get you to listen to reason. You have to think this through, Ben, and not act impulsively. First you have to figure out how you are going to keep Samson from coming after you, if you’re in your hiding space and not out in the fields working. But that’s the least of your worries. I reckon you’d better study on this some more, and then come up with a plan before you decide anything. And in the meanwhile, you best not rile up your pa in any way. Right now, that means we go down to the supper table, and you are on your best behavior.”

  Ben hesitated. He was not ready to give in to Grammy so abruptly. “Okay, Grammy. Just recollect that I’m not a kid any more, I can make up my own mind as to what I’m going to do with my life. I know enough to understand I have to have a plan, and I will have. I’m serious about this, and nothing you say will talk me out of it.”

  He opened the door for her, and as she didn’t reply to him, followed her quietly down to the kitchen.

  * * *

  Days passed into weeks, and the Commonwealth of Kentucky managed to maintain its neutrality at the beginning of the War. There was strong talk on both sides of the Kentucky Congress, those wishing and fighting to maintain the state’s neutrality, and those arguing for the declaration of commitment to the Union. Then, in a Congressional election held on June 20, 1861, Unionist candidates won nine of ten congressional seats, and Governor Beriah Magoffin resigned. Shortly thereafter, William “Bull” Nelson established Camp Dick Robinson, a Union recruiting camp, in Garrard County. Magoffin appealed to President Lincoln to close the camp, but he refused. A few days later, Confederate soldiers covertly crossed the Tennessee border just south of Guthrie, Tennessee, and from that moment on, Kentucky’s fragile neutrality was coming to an end.

  * * *

  Ben continued to work in the fields, but Samson was so busy pushing the slaves to work harder and longer at the back edges of the plantation, he seldom knew where Ben was, or even if he was working. Consequently, Ben was able to get closer to the house. From a vantage point just south of the main gate, he could see and hear horses coming to the house. As often as he could, he went to the space under the staircase, and wrote notes on what he heard coming from the parlor. His father had agreed to the terms Major Scott had laid out, and now Pa’s horse training staff were working long hours getting the Thoroughbreds ready to become war horses.

  The summer was long and hot, the work brutal as both Ben’s father and Samson wanted more and more hemp to be planted. Since planting could only occur in the spring, Pa opened up new acreage directly behind the house, closing out the beautiful lawn of crisp green grass that separated the main house from the dirt that lay in front of the slave quarters. He also set up more acres at the very back of the plantation: the quarter mile or so that separated the plantation property from the edges of the huge forest behind it. But that only lead to more problems.

  In early July Samson approached Ben.

  “Boy, you got to come with me. I goes to talk to your Pa, and you best be on my side, you hear? You be sorrier than a witch widout her broom if you don’t. Come on, now, I not be late.”

  Ben swiped his arm across his forehead. “Samson, you’re the slave master around here. Why do you want me to come with you? You know what my father thinks of me.”

  Samson nodded, his face crinkled into worry lines. “I knows that. But you knows whats happenin’ in the fields, wid the slaves. The Master, he might takes your word afore he takes mine. You just be still ‘til I asks you to talk, or ‘til the Master say somethin’ to you.”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t see what you’re thinking, but okay, I’ll come with you.”

  In the kitchen, Samson sp
oke loudly to Maya. “Hey, Maya, you go get the bossman now, you hear? I gots to talk to him straightaway.”

  A few minutes later, Pa walked in. He stopped abruptly when he saw Ben. “What do you want, Ben? Why aren’t you working?”

  Samson took off his hat, twirling it nervously in his hands. “Um, Mister McKenna sir, I’se the one needs to talk to you. I brung Ben along, but he gots nothin’ to say.”

  “Well, out with it, Samson. I don’t have all day.”

  “All that new land you got for us to get ready for plantin’, we don’t gots enough slaves to do that, Mister McKenna sir. We needs us some more slaves to do the work.”

  “What are you talking about? We had more than eighty slaves at last count. That should be more than enough. What’s going on here, anyway?”

  Ben and Samson exchanged a look. Ben said, “Pa, you have no idea of what is going on here. You don’t have over eighty slaves any more. At least fifteen have left, maybe more.”

  “Left? What the hell do you mean, left?” Pa’s voice thundered through the house, bringing Ma running down the kitchen stairs.

  Ben shrugged. “By ‘left,’ I mean, they have left the plantation. You would call it escaping, but with what’s going on in this war, they feel they are going to be free soon, so they just…left.”

  Pa clenched his fists. His face turned red, with a mean look. “And you just stood by and let this happen, Ben? You let these slaves escape, and didn’t see fit to tell me about it? Or…” he grabbed Ben harshly by the arm, squeezing it painfully. “Or did you help them escape, like you did once before? Up to your old tricks, are you? Well, a jail cell is waiting for you, Benjamin, just as soon as I can get the Marshal here.”

  Ben pulled away from him. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you, Pa? Sending your son to jail, just like you tried to do once before. I had nothing to do with them escaping this time. I don’t sleep out there any more, remember? They left at night, just up and walked off. As to telling you…I have no allegiance to you any more, Pa. I don’t have to report to you.”

  His father reached out to grab him again. “We’ll see about that. I’m still going to send for the Marshal.”

  Ben twisted away, and raised his fists. “Don’t touch me, Pa. Send for the Marshal if you want. I will be gone long before he gets here. You don’t treat me as your son, I won’t act as your son.”

  Ma rushed between them. She caught Pa’s hand. “Tom, stop this at once. I won’t have this scene in my house again. I’ve always given in to you, because you are my husband and master of this household. But this has gone on long enough. Ben is our son, your son, and you will not send him off to jail.” Her face was flushed, her voice hoarse with anger.

  She dropped Pa’s hand, and walked over to Ben. She reached up and gently touched his face. “Ben, I’m so sorry that all of this has happened. Yes, I was very angry when you helped Josiah and his parents escape, and I did allow your father to treat you this way. But no more. This is going to stop, now.”

  Ben stepped away from his mother, so that her hand dropped from his face. He stared at her, wishing with all his heart she had stood up for him from the beginning. Now, it was too late.

  Ma stared back at him, tears gathering in her eyes. She seemed to realize for the first time how she had broken his trust in her as his mother, a mother who was supposed to protect her children at all costs. She had not.

  She turned to her husband, her small hands clenched into fists. “I am serious, Tom. Ben is our son, and from now on, he will be in this house as our son. Best you get down off your high horse, and realize we are in a war, we have two sons gone that way, and only our youngest is left here at home. And here at home, in our home, is where he will stay.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned, flicked her long shirts aside, and stormed out of the kitchen, wisps of dark red hair escaping from the heavy bun at the nape of her neck.

  The room was silent. Pa looked after her as she left. In a society dominated by men, women never had their voices heard because they seldom voiced an opinion, especially if it differed from their husbands.

  He sighed heavily, and turned back to Ben and Samson. “Samson, do the best you can. Divide the slaves up, work them from before sunup to dark. Fifteen minutes for lunch break, that’s all. I’ll see if I can find more workers, but with this damn war, it’s put a damper on slave auctions.”

  He left the kitchen, and Ben heard his father calling to his mother. He hoped there wouldn’t be trouble between them. There had only been a few squabbles when he was a kid, and he didn’t want to be the cause of a serious disagreement between his parents. He sighed, knowing that he had already caused his family more anguish than he had ever intended. At the same time, his mother coming to his rescue now, after so many months of allowing his father to mistreat him, was of no importance to him.

  Samson was watching him. When Ben turned to speak, Samson said, “I sorry, Mister Ben. I onliest doing what the Master tell me to do, wid you. I got boys, too, them that works in the fields just like you do. I not make them slaves if I have choices, but I don’t. I…”

  Ben interrupted. “Samson, I don’t blame you, exactly. I know what Pa ordered. But now, you do have a choice. This war is all about setting slaves free, so you and your family can run, just like the others. Don’t you realize that?”

  The huge man before him lowered his eyes, and twisted his straw hat in his fingers. “Nawsir, Mister Ben. I knows we can run, but to what? Dem other slaves, some got catched and they’s been hung. Here we be safe. We gots a roof over our heads, and food to eat. We work hard, even my wife, but we be safe. Naw, we not gonna run, we gonna stay and be safe.”

  Before Ben could answer, Samson nodded to him, slammed his hat back on his head, and left.

  Chapter Five:

  Spies Among Us

  A few days later, Ben rested his arms on the hoe he had been working with, and looked around. Other than the slave quarters, from where he was standing, there was nothing to be seen but field upon field being tended by black figures. Even though the harvesting of the present fields of hemp would not take place until October, new areas of rich, black dirt were being turned over and cleaned out of weeds, so more planting could begin in April and May.

  He was bored and restless. He didn’t object to the work, but it was mindless, devastatingly dull, and physically hard. Hoof beats pounded up the road to the plantation. Ben threw down the hoe and raced to the well at the back of the kitchen. He threw cold, fresh water on his face, quickly rinsed off his arms and hands, and hurried into the back porch to find a towel to dry off with.

  Knowing that Ma and Grammy were off to town to shop at the Farmers Market, he slipped into the kitchen and quietly headed for his hiding place under the curving staircase. His father had already opened to the front door, and was greeting several Confederate soldiers.

  “Gentlemen, come in. Follow me into the parlor, and I’ll have some refreshments for you.”

  Ben could see that all of the soldiers were junior officers, except for one, a major. When Pa greeted them by name, Ben realized his father was doing more for the Confederate Army than just supplying them with hemp and horses.

  What in tarnation…Ben edged closer to the love seat blocking his hiding place.

  “Well, McKenna, it looks like we’re gonna have us a righteous battle here real soon.”

  “Oh?” Pa struck a match to light up his pipe. He took a couple of small puffs, and let out enough smoke to find its way across the entry hall to tickle Ben’s nose. He put his hand across his nose and mouth to prevent a sneeze.

  “And how is that, Major? How can you have a battle on Kentucky soil, when we are in neutrality here? Even the Federals know better than to attack us on our home ground.”

  The Major laughed, a loud and raucous sound. “No, McKenna, it’s not going to be here. We’re making plans for an attack on Manassas, over in Virginia. We’re…”

  “Virginia? Are you crazy, totally
lost your mind? Richmond is the Confederate capital, you numbskull! Why would you do something so completely stupid as to attack your own people?” Pa’s voice was more exasperated than angry.

  The junior officers laughed, but were quickly silenced by something the Major said that Ben couldn’t hear. The Major spoke again, more loudly than before. “McKenna, I suggest you not call me stupid. We have some information, on good authority, that some Union general by name of McDowell is going to march on Richmond within a week or so. So, we’re going to be there to greet him, just like the friendly folk we Southerners are. Only this time, instead of a mint Julep, we’ll be offering him a face full of bullets. It will be our little surprise.”

  “Hmm,” said Pa. “If you can keep this attack secret, it just might work. But don’t be surprised if you fail. You, and all of you commanders, need to be mindful of the fact that the Union has had an army longer than the Confederacy has. And many of their officers come from West Point. These men have skills and backgrounds that most in our army don’t have. They…”

  “Don’t matter, McKenna, it just don’t matter. We’re going in with reinforcements for a surprise attack, and that’s all there is to it. Now, let’s just put this war talk down for a while, and enjoy some of that good coffee you have. Uh, with the Jim Beam, of course!” The Major laughed coarsely.

  Pa rang the bell for Maya, and as soon as she went into the parlor, Ben shimmied out of his hiding place, and ran quietly upstairs to his room. He shut the door, sat down at his desk and began writing.

  Confederate Army reinforcements

  General McDowell plans attack

  July, in a week or so

  March on Richmond, or maybe Manassas Junction?